#it just means you didn't know. which is fine.

[michuga]

santa baby *•̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙*˚

summary: in which you wait all night long for santa, as you have been every year, for as long as you can remember. expecting a swollen belly and a full white beard, you're surprised to see a tall, dark, and handsome stranger staring back at you. or santa gets caught red-handed and has to play it off.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: idek. holiday skit? palette cleanser 4 you!

warnings: swearing included, lowercase intended

very silly. i laughed for a good minute when the idea came to me, hope you enjoy!

wc: 1.5k

it's finally the holidays, your favorite time of the year. at 21, your resolve to catch santa has stayed stronger than ever. it didn't matter how many people told you santa wasn't real, you were an ambitious girl. surely one of these years, you were bound to catch him, right? i mean, who else could be responsible for the gifts under your tree, every single year?

"alright everyone, gather round! it's time to pick your secret santa buddy!" you hear your coworker yell out, along with squeals of excitement.

for the first time, this year, your company decided to hold a secret santa event, as a means of reviving the workplace environment.

yawning, you make your way to where everyone from your department was gathered. how do they have so much energy? it's barely eight in the crack ass of the morning.

"like every secret santa, each one of you will pick out a paper randomly from this bowl right here. the name you get is the person you'll be buying a gift for. any questions?" your boss says, enthusiastically.

subtle chatter fills the room. "all right then. if there are no questions, go ahead and pick your draw"

waiting your turn, you take a sip of your coffee.

"are you excited?" your friend taehyung beams, joining you.

"not really, just looking forward to my bed today."

"why? you still waiting on santa to pop down your chimney?" he says with an elbow nudge, wiggling his eyebrows.

"he's REAL taehyung. i'm not doing this with you again." with a roll of your eyes, you walk closer to the bowl filled with names.

"it's probably one of your family members, be serious for five minutes. if it's not, you definitely need your locks changed. you don't find that creepy at all? have you asked them?"

"nope. because i know it's not them. and my locks are perfectly fine. he doesn't use doors, you idiot, it's the chimney."

tsking, taehyung follows close behind.

waiting for the cookies to cool down, you plopped down on your couch. your eyelids heavy, you decide to take a quick half hour nap.

THUNK

waking up from your slumber, you're startled by the loud noise. confused, you slowly rub your eyes and scan your surroundings.

well this definitely isn't what you were expecting.

wide eyed, you stare at the strange man across the room, standing right in front of your fireplace.

are you dreaming? you're not sure. you always thought santa would be old fat and ugly, the man standing in front of you is anything but. carrying a big red sack on his back, the fabric of his sleeves lays taught against his biceps. woah, santa's jacked. you can also see a slither of a tattooed sleeve under his little getup, and piercings on his face. what the hell?

after it seems like an eon of staring at eachother in silence, you finally muster the courage to speak up.

"santa?" you ask, delirious from sleep and yet hopeful as ever.

"i'm your... secret santa!" the man says reluctantly.

"oh.. yeah you don't really look like santa." dejected, you say with a sigh.

offended, the stranger scoffs, and gestures at his read coat and matching red pants. "um.. hello?"

"nah. santa's all fat and old n' shit. you could pass as his grandson, though," you think aloud, tilting your head to the side.

"i'll take that as a compliment.. i guess?"

"wait.. i've never seen you at work before, though?"

after another awkward silence, "i'm new. i was only recently hired a few weeks ago."

"oh.. okay!" you answer, delirious on sleep and perfectly satisfied with his reekingly suspicious answers.

"well since i baked cookies for santa and you're the next best thing, why don't you have some?" getting up, you casually walk towards your fridge, grabbing the half empty carton of milk, along with two cups from your cupboard.

you hear quiet footsteps behind you, taking a seat on your kitchen island.

"so.. santa? you really believe in santa?" the stranger says, taking the cup of milk you offered him.

"i swear to god if i get made fun of one more time, i'm turning into the grinch." you deadpan, serious expression adorning your face. flat lipped, you cross your arms and stare at him.

suppressing a giggle, the stranger goes on, "no, no! don't get me wrong, i think it's cute."

you squint your eyes. "but you don't believe me."

"now you're just putting words in my mouth. when did i ever say that?" amused, he takes another bite of the freshly baked cookie.

"this is damn good stuff, you know? you should definitely sell these." your secret santa remarks, mouth full of cookie, and a visible scorn on his face.

"only the best for santa." you say, plopping down on the stool across from him. face in your palm, you watch the perfect stranger eat cookies, made with all your love, that were never meant for him.

"i really thought i'd catch him this year, damn it."

"you just wait here every year, waiting to catch him?"

"pretty much."

"well if you had caught him, that would mean he's lousy as his job, wouldn't it?"

"as lousy as you were?" you playfully say, "surely he has better work ethic than you do."

snickering, the stranger nods in agreement.

"i'll let you in on a little secret." your santa says, gesturing for you to come closer.

you lean in, lending him your ear.

"i know santa personally. i could put in a good word for you, if you want."

jerking back, you're quick to remark, "stop making fun of me, i already told you! i'm serious about this!"

"i am too! i'm being for real."

"sure. well since you do know him, let him know i've been an awful good girl this year, and i demand a gift worthy of that," you say, going along with his bit.

"hmm.. i'm pretty sure he's the one who gets to decide that, but alright, i'll let him know. anything else?"

"and that i've written up a wishlist." you pick up the piece of paper you left under the plate of cookies. "here you go. make sure he gets this."

taking the piece of paper from you, the stranger quietly reads what's written.

"alright. shouldn't be too hard to accomplish," he says, matter-of-factedly.

this dude's a wacko.

yawning, the sleepiness from earlier latching onto you again.

"well, i'll be going to bed now. would you like me to show you out?"

"i'll manage. thanks for the cookies!" grabbing his gift sack from off the ground, he gets up and heads towards the chimney.

going up the stairs with your back turned to him, you wave him off.

mere seconds after plopping down onto your bed, you fall back asleep, wondering off to dreamland for sure this time.

you hear the sound of birds chirping, feel the sun shining on your face.

you peacefully turn in your sleep.

one, two minutes pass.

with a furrow of your eyebrows, you come to.

wait.

wait.

what the fuck?

startled, you spring out of bed.

as the events of last night dawn on you, your eyes gradually widen in shock.

????????????

running down your stairs, you scramble into your kitchen

to find

the plate of cookies

empty.

you weren't dreaming.

oh god. oh god. now you've finally done it. a stranger merrily breaks into your house and you made conversation with him?

from the corner of your eyes, you spot something shimmering under your christmas tree.

gifts?

"jesus, what happened to you?" taehyung asks with a sandwich in his mouth. "did the grinch visit you?"

you hadn't bothered to look at the mirror this morning, rushing to get dressed and out the door. you need real human interaction to feel sane. you were also hoping to find an answer to whatever the fuck happened last night.

"i think a stranger broke into my house last night. i think i also offered him cookies."

choking on said sandwich, taehyung coughs a few times before finally clearing his throat.

"pardon?"

"he said he was my secret santa."

"and you just.. accepted the fact?"

"well.. yeah? i was half asleep and waiting for santa," you say with a pout.

"the fuck? that's breaking and entering?? you should file a police report! oh god, he works here, doesn't he? do you remember what he looks like??"

recalling the events of last night, you find yourself lost in thought. "yeah.. quite an odd fellow."

scratching your head, you continue, "damn, he never even told me his name."

"dude, i knew you were off your rocker, but this has got to be a new low."

"um.. excuse me?" a voice calls out from behind you.

you turn around to see mingyu, one of your coworkers, holding a neatly wrapped gift box.

"i got your name.. i didn't really know what you'd like so i got you a bunch of different things.. i really hope you like them."

silence.

"or if you don't, i can always return them and get something else! really, it's no trouble!"

silence.

...

taehyung nudges you hard.

"mingyu, you're my secret santa?"

"..yes?"

"then who the fuck was that at my house last night?"

[onestepbackwards]

Hi hello hey

I really like ur writing and was wondering if you would like to write the player/player character being distraught that their partner Pokemon from wherever the player character came from didn't come with them and basically was just bummed put enough for arceus to go

"fine fine, geez, here's your dog..."

And then they're all happy with like, the biggest, scariest pokemon in the world

Being in a pokemon game should have been a dream come true.

And it was! It was so many people's dreams to be able to catch and interact with pokemon! Many people held this series near and dear to their hearts!

...Which is why you felt terrible for being so... upset.

When you ended up in the pokemon universe, one thing you always dreamed of was having your partner pokemon with you. One you always transferred between games, one you considered your good friend.

Sure, growing up, they may have been a set of pixels, but they always meant to you than that.

So to be in the pokemon world, and not have your partner pokemon?

It felt bittersweet.

Really, you felt bad for being upset. What right did you have to, when people would literally kill to be in your shoes?

So you tried to be optimistic, and you were still kind to any pokemon you came across.

But it wasn't the same.

Thankfully though, arriving here meant you caught different types of attention.

Include divine ones.

Arceus has been a surprise. You honestly had thought you were dreaming, but you suppose you shouldn't be too taken aback.

They were basically a god, and a cosmic being of sorts. Why wouldn't Arceus know of you arriving?

Though it's curiosity about you was a surprise, especially as it seemed content to observe your interactions with this world.

Arceus seemed happy though you were overjoyed to be here, though it seemed they noticed how you occasionally drew yourself back in when gazing at other pokemon.

Eventually, it grew curious enough to ask, sensing your sadness.

"Why does thou seem to lament seeing other pokemon? What bothers thou to bring such sadness?"

You jumped, not expecting such a question. After a moment, you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head.

"It's not the other pokemon that bother me, not at all! It's just..."

You were silent for a moment, a conflicted look on your face.

"I... Well... I had a partner pokemon, back in my world. Where this world is a game. A pokemon I traded across games. Or dimensions. Or whatever you want to refer to separate games as. I took them everywhere."

Looking down, you kicked a rock with your shoe.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful, of course. I don't wish to complain. I'm quite literally living a dream here! I just..."

Taking a deep breath, you sighed while avoiding Arceus' eyes.

"I miss them. I wish I could have seen them at least."

Arceus was silent, noting the far off, yet fond look in your eyes. They could tell you clearly held this pokemon in high regard.

Eventually, you looked back up to Arceus.

"Don't worry about it. I promise to stop moping-"

"Doth thou really wish to see thy friend?"

Arceus' question caught you off guard.

"Huh?"

They tilted their head at you from above.

"The pokemon for which thou hath considered a companion."

You blinked.

"Uh...?"

Arceus put a leg forward, gently tapping the ground.

That's when you felt an odd, warm feeling in your chest, before a light was pulled out from it. A small orb of light floated in front of you, and you felt the urge to hold out your hands.

Slowly, the orb levitated into your awaiting grasp, and the light slowly dimmed, revealing a pokeball.

Looking up at Arceus in surprise, your eyes darted between the god and the pokeball in front of you.

You cradled it gently, almost unbelieving at what you were looking at.

"Is... Is this really...?" you tried to ask, your voice small, yet full of wonder.

Arceus made a noise that sounded almost like a hum, nodding at you.

"Perhaps... This shall ease thy sorrow, and bring thou comfort."

With shaking hands, you hit the button on the pokeball, releasing your friend from inside.

What followed was a loud cry as the ground shook, and you could only grin as the light cleared, and your friend was completely visible.

"Giratina!" You cried out in pure glee, running up to your partner pokemon with your arms in the air.

Giratina, your Giratina, let out a trill when they saw you. They shuffled on the ground to look at you, and made such a cute smile on their terrifying face.

The legendary pokemon leaned down, happily letting you run up and hug it's face while you laughed.

Arceus watched, keeping it's distance as you reunited with the pokemon you held so dear.

Perhaps this would change your mood, though Arceus hoped the locals wouldn't freak out by your giant friend who you no doubt would be keeping out of your pokeball...

[cpvnksabm]

@ rtc fic writers

you really do have to research neuromuscular disabilities if ricky significantly appears in your fics. few to no exceptions. sorry.

ricky potts is important disability representation and, more specifically, he has a rare degenerative neuromuscular disease. this specific representation is important and therefore it's important to depict his neuromuscular disorder accurately. all disabilities are different and it's a huge problem when people, not understanding and/or not wanting to research neuromuscular disorders specifically, just give him any disability while erasing the one he canonically has, and think it's fine just because "well he's still disabled isn't he?".

i think canon (as in 2015-2018 scripts) is a good starting reference point for depicting ricky accurately because again, the specific disability he has in canon is important to represent. but canon also only seriously depicts him as disabled very briefly on-stage and spends most of the musical doing singing and dancing that he wouldn't be physically capable of if he was alive. if you're depicting ricky realistically for longer than canon does then you will have to do outside research to see how his disability would likely impact him, because you're definitely not getting a full picture from him using crutches for 2 minutes onstage.

i think sometimes people assume they don't have to worry about researching to write ricky, because they don't think he's a major enough character for his disability to become relevant - or, more upsettingly, i think sometimes people make ricky a more minor character so that his disability won't become relevant, because that way they don't have to do research.

unfortunately there's one big issue here, which is that if you haven't done the research, how can you know when his disability will be relevant?

ricky has a complex disability that would realistically affect his whole life in varying ways and what we see in canon is only a surface level view. let's say you're writing a fic where you don't need to bother researching for ricky because his only appearance is going out for lunch with the choir - did you know that neuromuscular disorders, especially ones that cause difficulty speaking or an inability to speak (which ricky has!), often cause difficulty swallowing? this would affect his diet and in fact potentially imply that he uses a feeding tube (which is also implied by one of ocean's lines in WTWN), making it very relevant when getting lunch with the choir!

of course that lunch idea is just a hypothetical example, and it's just one example. what i'm saying here is that there are many activities that seem simple, that you wouldn't even think twice about in relation to ricky, that would realistically be complicated by his disability.

of course not every fic has to tackle disability in detail, or even has time to do so, but it's noticeable when something happens where ricky's disability would impact him and it just isn't mentioned. it's something that can accidentally slide into disability erasure, which is a problem, and it also just makes it really obvious when the writer wasn't aware of something or didn't think very hard about it. heck this post is mainly directed at fic writers but i've even seen headcanon posts where it's been obvious the OP needed to do a little more research.

so basically, when i say you need to research to write ricky accurately & understand his disability, i don't just mean that if you're planning on writing a fic that significantly involves his disability you should research for that fic specifically. i think that you should do some basic research before you plan on writing anything, just to make sure you understand his disability when you're active in the fandom. and then if his disability becomes more relevant in a fic - which you will be able to recognise due to the basic research you've already done - you can do more research as needed.

besides, even if it turns out you never write anything where this is relevant, there's no harm in learning more about neuromuscular disease and disability in general! it might become useful information in real life at some point, or it might just be good to know.

[thekaratcake-blog]

I said I can't be bothere to check the others, but lets start real easily, non hebrew slaves are to be kept, owned as property and passed down to your children, it is explicit about it, to use hebrew salves to go "see look man" isn't very useful, also no it is the word of god, that part is directly after the ten commandments, this isn't going "slavery exists" this is god explaining how to do so and also mentions that women aren't to go free ever and are to be kept at property, it does not record it, it is demanding it, and the "slave's bible" was a real thing given to slaves to keep them in line, as well as christianity and places like exodus 21 being used to explicitly justify and prolong slavery, it's a nice apologetic "oh it was only a thing at the time" "oh it was only servants" no, it was instructions, that was incredibly clear, it was used so and understood to be and still is be scholars today, however now that we understand that it's wrong, people are backpedalling, but prey tell where it says that slavery is wrong?

Also yeah so the god who condemns eating shellfish and homosexuality is going to be fine with slavery in his book and at no point say to stop that? Those werne't things of the time but slavery is? Why exactly would god not condemn it if he saw it as morally evil? Again, the non hebrew slave was not treated the same, was considered property, wasn't afforded the protections, I wonder why only those of the religion the book teaches about are protected? Practices in exodus 21 didn't limit slavery, only slavery for hebrew slaves, which the african americans weren't counted as, a lot of the laws infact for slaves and the way they were treated during the american chattel period came directly from the bible

Cool and all it talks about not abusing children but god does and excuses what he wants, the whole killing all the firstborns of isreal, or commanding the slaughter of the caananites, men, women and children, to slaughter the women who have known a man, and to take the others for themselves (no age limit mention you may notice)

Also you're right, why is there no mention of pedophelia in the bible? God condemned wearing mixed fabrics, eating shellfsh, homosexuality, sewing your field with two kinds of seed, no all of that is condemnable, slavery? Nah he gives instructions, pedophilia? Nah but there's a few passages that many have taken to be explicitly condoning it, when you say interpretation, what you mean is some people like to take the bible liberally or call anything they disagree with metaphor to protect it when it objectively says evil shit

Again, what about those non hebrew slaves, those non hebrew slaves which are referred to as property in multiple passages, those non hebrew slaves which don't have protections and are to be passed down to their children, what about buying a wife? Did the woman get a say in it? The answer is no, btw, her father sells her, and she is to "please" her man, again, most scholars agree that this is generally in reference to sexual pleasure, women were usually sold as sex slaves

Yes eventually the Nazi movement fell into "positive christianity" that doesn't change it's roots it's normal christianity or the fact it was believed by the majority of it's troops, used as a rallying cry, what got hitler in power in the first place and why they targetted jews

And yes, I can absolutely say, as an african american yourself, justifying the shit used to enslave and torture your ancestors is just deeply fucked up, the slaves bible was explicitly a thing, who gives a shit if a handful of people reinterpreted the bible in a way that they thought was better and supported them, of course they did, because you god couldn't be fucked to be clear enough that people wouldn't fucking enslave and kill others, all powerful and all knowing but not powerful enough to be clear and not all knowing enough to know of the confusion it would cause, of course

Again, Bible condemns many other practices considered normal at the time, it actively doesn't condemn slavery, instead changing how it was done to make people nicer to those that follow the bible specifically, the same book that condemns insane small shit refuses to condemn slavery and instead talks about it repeatedly in what is obviously a very encouraging way

What on earth would make you think that the piece directly after the ten commandments is suddenly, without any mention of it being so, switching from god's commandments to "oh just what was going on at the time, y'knowwwww"

It's excuses, and they're shitty, and this isn't even the end of the horrible shit that book does and allows, american chattel slaves were treated just about EXACTLY as non hebrew slaves were laid out to be treated in the bible and historically it's likely that american chattel slavery comes from older biblical practices

But I'll give you another chance, give me any good reason to read exodus 20 as god's divine command and suddenly read exodus 21 as some weird recounting, I've heard this plenty and it's absurd, it's just so obviously just trying to weasal around the reailty

And again, if it's all about misinterpretations and mistranslation, man what a mighty god that he can't even write a book coherent enough to make sense to those in the future or translate it himself, maybe come down and go "oi stop it" as he supposedly did for all sorts of other things, I mean he fucking tormented Job because of a dare from satan, but nah slavery, doesn't bat an eye

[gazsluckyhat]

The Set Up

Thank you @miss-vanta-likes-to-write for encouraging me to write this idea out. This was not how I originally thought it'd go. At all.

TW: dubious consent, sex acts, the works

Kylie didn't need a alpha. She was just fine without one.

or

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

Kylie was on her fourth book of the month. She'd stayed up late to finish the third last night. She didn't sleep much anyway. She was four chapters in, her tea perched in her hand when she smelt it. Alpha. She sat up a little taller, took her hair clip out of here hair so it covered her scent gland. Focusing on the ducks swimming in the pond she listened for a sign of someone. She'd picked this spot because no one came this way. It was quiet and calm. She didn't have to worry about the alpha's trying to court her or the screaming children. Whoever it was, was getting closer, the smell of timber and musk floating it's way into her nose. There were two scents, but she didn't feel like untangling them. Alphas were Alphas and she was not in the mood today. A migraine was crawling it's way up her neck.

"Hi." Kylie didn't wanna look up, the sun was bright today. But she was not rude. Two men. One was sun kissed, the other slightly darker. They were both bulky, clearly spent a lot of time outside. They were the same height, which towered over her.

"Hello." They were grinning ear to ear, like they'd just found hidden treasure. The one with the mohawk sat to her left while the other one chose her right. Both threw their arms across the back of the bench. Men and their audacity. "Can I help you boys?" The book closed in her hand, she took a sip of the tea.

"I'm Kyle, this is Johnny. We noticed you and had to stop and say how beautiful you look." Kyle smelt of verbena and lemongrass. Johnny was timber and musk. Both intoxicating. Both strong. The scent sent her head into a spin.

"Thank you, but I am in fact not interested." She hoped they could catch the hint. Johnny lent closer and took a deep breath in. He was pressing his face agaisnt her hair and the scent gland there.

"You're not mated, can't smell anything but you Bonnie." Kylie gave a firm push. This was out of hand. Forcing herself up she shoved the book into her bag and faced them.

"That is none of your business. In fact this is on the verge of sexual harassment." Kylie wasn't some tiny little omega who'd roll over for them. "Now if you don't mind, I'm leaving." Turning she stomped away. Not knowing that instead of deterring them away she'd given them a bone to chew on.

Done. Completely done. The pond had been abandoned, Alphas had invaded her safe space. Kylie had tried a coffeeshop. Sat in the farthest corner with airpods shoved in. A hours of nice and calm with a huge tea. Until the smell hit her. She didn't even have to look up to know who had slid into the seats before her. The next day she'd chosen the library. Two huge alphaholes would never been set foot in there. Until they did. Both smiling and fucking off. So done didn't even qualify to describe how she felt. She wasn't dumb though. She knew military when she saw it. She'd done her own research and happily found who their commanding officer was.

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" Candance was the omega everyone wanted. All pretty smiles and soft curves. "What about the police?"

"I'll be fine Candy. I'd rather not talk to the cops." The parking lot was slammed. Meaning everyone was on base. "I have to hop off. I'll let you know how it goes okay?" With a sigh Candy hangs up, Kylie shut the car off and puts her phone into her pocket. Getting in was gonna be the hard part. There were two soldiers stationed at the guard house. Forcing her face into a stern look she stopped in front of them men.

"Can we help you?" Kylie nodded.

"I need to speak with Captain John Price. It's about two of his sergeants." Kylie straitened her back. Men assumed she'd roll over and play dumb, but not her.

"Yeah? You another one of their little playthings?"

"Hah! Did they dump you and now you're all upset? Gonna cry to their daddy?" Red colored her face. A whore? They assumed she was a simple whore?

"I would never-" Their faces dropped as a shadow was thrown over her from behind.

"Don't think daddy would like to hear you talkin' 'bout the girl like that." Turning around Kylie was met with a black hoodie, she had to tilt her head all the way back before making eye contact. Brown eyes surrounded by a black mask. Her stomach dropped. Fear enveloping her bones.

"Sir! I'm so-" The man just nodded his head.

"C'mon, dove." He started to walk in front, before stopping and turning to see if she was following. "Don't stand there. Daddy wants a word."

Everyone watched as they walked across base. The tiny little thing following behind the big hulking soldier. Kylie was terrified. She'd had a whole plan but at the sight of, whoever, she'd forgotten it. Her hands were clammy and she couldn't think stright. He'd smelt like salt and orange. Her omega was going crazy. Three Alpha's who seemed to know her already so close? She was basically dripping. Coming across a door the man stopped to open it for her. As she went to walk through he stopped her, ducking his head to scent her.

"Boys were right." Coulda swore he said but he was already moving to allow her in. It was a housing area. Barracks, she assumed. The man was right behind her, he'd set a hand on her shoulder to guide her. She needed to get out. Couldn't help but feel like a trap. "Here we are." The door was cracked, a low light shining from inside.

"Captain, girl's here." Kylie was gonna throw up. Her nerves were rattled. Stepping in she smelt cigar smoke, and pine. At this point her omega was clawing it's way to the forefront of her mind. Basic needs begging to be fulfilled. Sat behind the desk was a middle aged man. He had a cigar balanced between two pink lips. Facial hair dotted his jaw to his ears. He was smiling at her. She couldn't help but feeling like a naughty child being brought to the principal.

"You must be the pretty little omega my boys have been telling me about?" Her cheeks darkened again, fear crawling up her spine. "What's your name, darling?" She was frozen in place, couldn't move let alone remember her name. He stood up and walked around the desk to tower over her.

"The guards were giving her a rough time. Scared the poor thing." A hand was rubbing her hair. Like a mother to a scared child. The Captain used two fingers to tilt her head even further back.

"Poor thing. Did they scare you Lovie?" He knelt down to her level. They were mocking her. Shame filled her head. Anger following right behind it. Shoving his hand away and stepping from the other man Kylie puffed her chest up.

"Get off of me. Neither one of you have permission to touch me. I've come here to file a complaint about your two sergeants, but maybe I should go higher up." Before she could step out she was pressed agaisnt the wall, two noses tucked right into her neck.

"Told ya' cap. She so pretty." Johnny.

"Smells like honey." Kyle. I'm were a goner. Her brain was melting from the heat on her skin. 

"You boys did good. Getting us a pretty little omega to play with." She could see the captain watching from beside the tall one. They watched as Kyle and Johnny kissed and sucked on her neck.

"Please. I want to go ho-mmm" Pressure was forming along her pelvis, leading down between her legs. Her omega was whining.

"That's a good girl. Sound so pretty." Kylie couldn't think stright. Not with the continuing pressure and the added kisses to her neck.

"Now boy's, let Simon have a turn." With horror, Kylie watched as the boys parted to allow the giant of a man between her legs. Everything about him was large. Hands took up the width of her back, his hips pressed down into her to keep her still. He pulled her hair back into a fist to get a big whiff of her scent. The growl from the back of his throat sent heat to her core. Her omega wanted this, whatever this was. Kylie tried to pry him off her, tried to grasp the last of her coherent thoughts that told her to leave but it was no use. She was fully pressed agaisnt the way, Simon's hand latched to her flesh as his hot and wet tongue made a track across her cheek. What she thought was a whimper turned out to be a loud moan. It was like her senses had been turned up to ten. She was burning up. Simon was a thousand degrees and it was stifling. His mask was ripped off leaving behind a scarily handsome face marked by scars. He nipped at her jaw, forcing two fingers into her mouth.

"Neem 'em nice and wet dove, think you can do that?" Kylie moaned around them. Just like the rest of him they were huge and thick. She didn't need him to tell her what he planned on doing. With a wet noise he pulled them out, replacing them with his own mouth. His kiss was messy. All gnashing teeth and little nips. Kylie didn't have time to argue, he quickly shoved them inside of her, watching as she sobbed into his mouth. He could feel her jump a little, trying to get away from the intrusion.

"We need her nice and soft Simon." The captain was watching, sat behind his desk. She was fully wrapped up in Simon, his fingers working her open. Kylie tried to push him away, it was all too much. But someone was pinning her hands above her head. The Captain. "Now, be a good girl and hold still. We're gonna make you feel good, doll." He was pressing his lips into her neck. Simon was fully sucking her lips into his mouth.

"She's so fuckin' tight Price." The captain grunted in reply. The pain was turning into pleasure. Fast and hot and straight to her core. Her fingers were speeding up, she was close to breaking apart. Mumbling to try and get him off was failing. "She's close. Can feel 'er squeezing my fingers."

"Good girl. Just like that. Cum on Simon's hand." Price was whispering in her ear, licking the shell of it. "Need a bit more? Need daddy to play with your clit?" It was degrading, how he was talking to her. But it made the lava that much hotter. He slipped his hand between her and Simon's bodies. He found her dripping around Simon's hand, her clit engorged begging him to touch her.

"Fuck. She liked that." It was too much. The pressure inside her felt like it was gonna blow, she was gonna pass out. She could feel it. Price kept twisting and stroking and rubbing. Something was tightening inside her, like a string. Kylie was sobbing now. Sobbing from the intense pleasure.

"Look boys. Look at our good little omega. Gonna cum for us already." It snapped. White light seemed to wrap around her as she tightened every muscle she had. Simon continued to finger her, drawling out her orgasm to the last second. "That's enough Si. We still need her conscious." Kylie couldn’t feel a thing, she could hear voices and feel herself being manhandled then something hard agaisnt her back.

"Gentle Johnny, don't break her on the first go." She could feel something nudging between her lips, the ones between her legs. They brushed agaisnt her clit and she whined. It was still too sensitive. Something warm and wet wrapped around one of her nipples and she tried to pull away. "Now, now. C'mon doll. Don't run away."

"Too--much." A hand wrapped around her throat. The thing between her legs began to push into her, stretching her wide. The thing on her breast moved to the other one.

"You're gonna take it Bonnie. Every. Single. Inch." Each word was punctuated by the slam of his hips. The hand pressing harder on her throat causing her to go dizzy.

"Mmm. She so soft." Kyle whined as he bucked into her thigh. "Gonna blow my load watching you fuck her." Johnny laughed, he was repeatedly slamming into her, her head now hanging over the edge.

"Mouth open?" A pause then a grunt before Kyle was placing himself over her head and filling her mouth up. Kylie was completely gone. Her omega purring happily as the guys continued to fuck her stupid. She'd forgotten her reason for coming here in the first place. The intense pleasure was beginning again, but harder. It was happening quicker too. She tried placing her feet on the desk, was choking on Kyle's dick down her throat.

"Don't you dare knot her McTavish." The captain was grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. Kylie moaned around Kyle. Price met her eyes. "That's my job." Kylie's omega was mewling at the sound of that. Stright up begging to be knotted.

"Yes, yes captain." His hips were stuttering. He was gonna finish. With a muffled noise Kylie came, her lips tightened around Kyle, him finishing in her mouth. Johnny quickly pulled out and finished across her stomach. She was wore out. So tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. But they weren't done with her. Hand made their way up her sweaty and redden skin.

"Mmm. Can't." She couldn't properly make words out.

"Simon, hold her up for me." Then she was being lifted and held agaisnt a chest. Lips pressed agaisnt her ear. Simon was breathing loudly, it was hot and heavy on her skin. Her legs were lifted up and bent so her knees touched her shoulders, Simon looped his arms under her knees and locked his fingers. She was trapped agaisnt him. He had her pried open for Price to feast on.

"Look so pretty like this 'mega. Like a dinner, all laid out." His fingers strolled through her folds, her muscles spasming in Simon's hold. John pressed two into her, loving the sound of her whimpers. "I think you have two more in you, Yeah, Simon?" His lips moving agaisnt her ear.

"At least, Capin'." His fingers tightened. John's were removed and instead replaced with his cock. Leaking and thick as he pressed it into her. Loving the way she sucked him in. "Hmm. So hot taking the Captains cock, dove. Gonna fill you up, get you on his knot so you can't run." In the depths of her mind Kylie knew this was wrong. Knew that knotting her without her consent was the bad thing. But her omega was controlling things now. And she wanted nothing more than his knot.

"God doll, you're so fucking tight. Want you to cum arounds me. Want to feel it gushing." Kylie couldn't control the blinding pleasure that was licking it's way across her skin. Crying she shook her head. "Yes, be a good girl and cum for your daddy." Kylie screamed, loud and clear with a sob on the end. Her body went limp in Simon's arms, John continuing to pound into her, his knot catching. With one final and big slam he was locked in. Her body convulsing in their arms, one last orgasm pulled from her. Her eyes falling shut as her body finally shut down.

tags: @miss-vanta-likes-to-write

[angeisherexoxo]

Manifestation cheatcode:

BE NONCHALANT!!!!!!

When I say be nonchalant I mean say you want it done? And move on with your life, just move on.. its simple! And when ppl say its simple ik you're like "how??? How its simple because I've been working so hard to get what i want my entire life and now you're suddenly telling me it is simple.. how is it simple????" I will tell you how just read the post. (Long post ahead)

As i was saying, decide your desir, affirm for it and move on, what do I mean by moving on? I mean:

1. NOT OVERTHINKING IT

2. NOT STRESSING IT!!!

Because if you're someone who gets whatever tf they want, whenever tf you want.. why do you even think twice about it right?

♡: Examples from My own life lately:

1. As some of you might noticed I disappeared here, because I have midterms and I'm a medical student so I've got to study more yeah? Since i didn't study ever since the term started (I was focusing on manifesting as you see in my latest posts)

But as I started focusing on studying and nothing but studying my manifesting process POURED ON ME!!!!!!! bitch I was complaining about how I don't get money as a college student (we have financial issues) , now as I focused on studying and dropped thinking about manifesting (because my brain is so busy inhaling study sheets) suddenly mom gave me 20$ bucks to buy medical sheets for my studies, then she gave me another 10$ to buy something else if i wanted, later at the same day dad gave me another 20$ JUST BECAUSE (Which never happened) , that was at 24 of December right? Yesterday suddenly a relative of ours got sick, and I have an exam, we had to go pick up my grandma so she visits the relative yeah??? She saw me and decided to give me 20$, and I'M NOT EVEN FOCUSING ON MONEY or manifesting I'm literally busy studying..

Q: So ange what happened there? What does this all mean?

A: I HAD no time to even think against what I want!! That's what fkn happened, before studying I was inhaling affirmations and repeating, now as I've let it go (by inhaling my studies and not having time to think about my manifesting process) it all just worked out, who would know that I will suddenly see my grandma and she'll give me money? I DIDNT SEE HER IN MONTHS!!! that's what they mean when they say everything will move for you to have your desires, for me it was that relative who got sick that caused me to see my grandma (pray for the relative btw thanks<3)

And this here was being nonchalant but I did it by studying, YOU can just say you want this to happen and fkn forget about it, Yk when we complain always about buying this book we DESPERATELY want, or that guitar or that phone or that car or laptop and then when we BOUGHT IT and it's in our room we just- ignore it, literally live as if we never desperately begged for it and that's the fkn key, i never understood what bloggers mean when they say “Embody the person you want to be, dont wish you are, YOU ARE, assume you have it and you will” that's what they fkn mean, weeks ago I was hoping for a 10$ now I've got like 30$ per day!

2. My studies!!!

As a medical student it's fine hard to study medicine, especially when you're lazy like my own dumbass, I only study the days before the exam, for example yesterday I had a midterm for 4 sheets that I studied in 2 days, each sheet have 14 pages that's FILLED with informations, and as a girl who has ADHD and a messy mind it was hard to focus and honestly I'm princess coded I just want shit done without being tired I'm sure you all understand since you're reading this, we want it done in the most simple fast way yeah? Fuck yes we do, so! Whenever I stressed and complained to ANYONE (I'm a complainer) I started reflecting the complaining, if I noticed I was about to complain to my friends or My parents about my studies I just immediately start bragging to them, I be like oh it's so easy to me and I'm even smarter than the professors there and LORD how it's easy to predict their exam questions, and istg as I focused on this technique (if I thought against what I want, I immediately start correcting myself and think as if I'm so smart *I am btw* and it's all so easy to me) that's what fkn happened, yes I got tired and I've got so many back pain while studying but I suddenly started making questions out of the sheet instead of just studying the information as the professor has stated it, for example if he said components of immune system are : innate immune system and acquired immune system, I be like oh that's easy he's gonna ask me : Q: What are the components of immune system?

This made it so much easier to study and the next day in the midterm I saw 6 questions of the ones I fkn made in the sheet!!! It's like I hacked his mind???

3. My last and third example of My life is also about my studies, as I said I'm so princess coded and sensitive af guys, and I hate college as a girl who wants no stress and just success, so the last weeks I skipped college, I was sick and stressed and just had so many issues going on so I didn't go, and that's where they announced my name because I crossed the limit of absence (strict medical bitches) and if you cross this limit they won't let you attend the midterms and therfore you won't pass the final because there is a gap due to the lack of the midterm grades, even if you wanted to pass the final you'd have to get a full mark no matter what so you avoid the damage of not attending the midterm, SINCE my cute ass crossed the limit of absence it means I can't attend the midterm, LOGICALLY it means I failed the midterm already isn't it?

But I just decided that it won't hurt me in anyway, why? Because manifesting isn't about logic, if you tell me you can't fly I'll say I can fly and one day I will!! And guess what? That's what happened

The boss of our major came yesterday (first midterm exame as i said) and called my name, and she gave me a paper saying that I only didn't attend one subject- which is so untrue bitch I skipped them all!!! How tf there's only one subject????? I didn't want to correct her I just signed the paper (signing it is like a promise that I won't do it again) and just like that I survived the whole danger of failing- was it logical?? Did it make sense? NOOOOO but it happened omgmgmfmiquwuwu2!!!!

START BELIEVING THAT IT ISN'T LOGICAL, ITS LIKE SUPERHEROES MOVIES, THEY BELIEVE THEY HAVE THE POWER TO DEFEAT THE VILLAIN AND THIS IS HOW THEY DEFEAT IT, THE VILLAIN HERE IS YOURRRR MINDSET, START DOING WHAT I SAID AND SEE HOW SHIT SHIFTS!!!!

I've got more to say for the examples but I've got to go study (wish me luck btw), I hope I helped I really tried my best to <3!

Ps: another side example is yesterday was hella cold in my country so I wanted a vacation (to study more because as I told yall it was 4 sheets and I stressed myself out so I wanted more time to get my shit together) no one said ANYTHINNNG at all about any vacation, but I just thought "idc they're gonna give us a vacation for the bad weather and that's just it) right next hours the whole country started talking about the vacation due to bad weather, all the fkn cities, but for some reason my stupid town decided that there will be no vacation for us because our town's weather is better than the other towns yk? I'm still mad about it because I was soooo close to manifest it, I guess it was because I kept stressing saying "oh god I want a vacation *crying and complaining*

I don't consider it as a success story because I had no vacation I had to go solve that stupid midterm -_- but bitch I got above 10+ towns to have vacations due to BAD WEATHER, THE WEATHER WAS FINE UNTIL I DECIDED ITS BAD. WTFFFFFF, exactly, no logic, logic doesn't fkn exist I'm about to cry oh my godness!!

Another side success story is that i suddenly started thinking void is so easy (it fkn is) out of nowhere, since i was inhaling attempting to tap into it i sat so many alarms to go try to induce it, now whenever i see the alarms i be like- its so easy why tf im complicating it- just bcs i stopped focusing on it!

cheers to all of us dreamers, I'm sure whoever is reading my post is someone who was one a wattpad person who loves Y/N stories, a Harry potter fan, marvel fan, my hero academy fan, fantasy fan, miraculous ladybug fan, in general ppl who just dont want to be here surrounded with logic boring stuff (in my case a girl who wrote fanfiction novels about one directio) , because I know you and I are here because we are dreamers!! we knew there MUST be a magical key to get out of this logical bullshitful and stupid cruel world, you already have the key you FOUND IT YOU CUTE IDIOT!!! you just need to know how to flick it and get that golden door opened (your pretty subconscious mind), me and you? We are gonna do it, just easy on yourself!!! Xoxo

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Christmas Special

(5.6k words, wrote this in 24h <3 Merry bloody Christmas, guys! TW murder, I guess. Nothing too detailed, tho)

I woke up with a headache. Not a hangover, mind you. I am above getting such things, and in any case it's unfitting for a man such as I to get drunk. No, I had one of those classical headaches, the likes of which are received after a fine blow to the head.

That naturally implied another assassination attempt. How coarse. I opened my eyes and tested my bonds. There were none. Either my captors were convinced I would not run, or they were remarkably incompetent fools indeed.

The room I was held in was… strange, for lack of a better word. There were bright lights that danced across the ceiling, a roaring fireplace, and a table chock full of meats, vegetables, and grains. Yet, that was not the greatest surprise of all.

There was, for unfathomable reasons, a massive tree. Just— sitting, in the center of the room, dominating the festivities. It was gaudy with glowing lights, glittering twine, and baubles infesting its surface. 

Oh, and there were people. Lots of them, in fact, all looking equally confused. We were draped on sofas, sprawled out on armchairs, resting against walls. I was, perhaps, the first of us to wake up, and I swept a watchful eye across the room.

A surprising number of familiar faces caught my eye. Hash, my darling, was there, along with her lowborn friend the vampire. And, would you believe it? There was my old nemesis, the Godhuntress herself, lying blissfully unconscious, just waiting for me to kill her.

By instinct, my hand found its way to my dagger. Some of the bloodlust must have shown on my face, for I caught a mortal boy flinch and hide behind his companion. 

I was halfway to her exposed throat when said companion grabbed my wrist. “You don't want to do that,” she murmured, and her tone gave me pause. It was far too weighty to belong to a mortal, the regality in it far more reminiscent of one of us ancients.

I turned to her and showed off my best smile, the one with all my teeth. She didn't so much as blink at it. “Oh, believe me, miss. I really do. Nothing, and I mean nothing, in this world would grant me more pleasure than snuffing out the life of this vile monster. Now, how about you let me go about my business, hmm?”

She remained imperturbed. “Not happening, kid. Now, how about you tell me what's going on? I don't like this one bit.”

I shrugged and withdrew my blade. Under that strangely cold grip of hers, I sensed a power I did not want to mess with. “Damned if I know. Last I remember, I was in bed, sleeping.” 

“Your kind sleep?” She sounded skeptical. “Actually, what the hell are you?”

“I could say the same of you, miss,” I replied. “But I suppose I'll go first, shall I? I'm a forest spirit, and you may call me Hans.” I left the last portion of my name unspoken, for no one as versed in inhuman dealings as I would ever give my name freely. A damned shame that mine was so short, however. Two syllables was not a great deal of room to make aliases with.

“Katherine, and I suppose you could quantify me as a demon.” She paused. “You don't look like a spirit to me. How old are you?”

I crinkled my nose at her. “Old enough to handle my own, Miss Katherine. And you're one to talk, wearing the face of a little girl. Don't the humans call that pedophilia?”

“No, you're pedo-bait. I'm jailbait. There's a difference, pipsqueak.” The smile was slipping off her face. “Or maybe your little-boy brain is just too underdeveloped to understand that?”

I didn't take the bait. “Fortunately for us, that's not the case. And if you'll excuse me, I'll go find someone more cordial to chat with.” The Godhuntress was stirring, and much as I wanted her dead, a fair fight with her was not one I would win. 

The demoness Katherine let me go, turning back to her mortal boy-toy. I beelined to Hash, the one soul in that room I trusted wholeheartedly. “Wake up, my dear. We've got trouble.”

At that last word, he bolted awake. “Trouble?” He surveyed the room. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Trouble.”

The two of us watched as more and more people got up. The vast majority of them were humans, gangly and pock-marked and over-solid, though I did catch glimpses of spirits and others of our ilk here and there. Katherine was attempting to interrogate the Godhuntress, something I wished her the best of luck with. If I was fortunate enough, perhaps they would get into a fight, and at least one of my problems would be solved.

“We should try to investigate,” Hash whispered. “Someone must know something, yea?”

“If you are so inclined, do it yourself.” I pursed my lips. “I think I shall wait for them to come to me. And sample the food, while I'm at it.”

“Are you crazy? We don't know where it's from. We don't know what it's made of. We don't know jack shit, and you want to play it cool? Have you finally lost your marbles? The only kind of person who would act so casually in this scenario is-” He stopped in his tracks. “Oh. So that's your game. I like it. Dangerous as fuck, but that's life, isn't it?”

“Yes, that is life. Now hop to it, my love. Between the two of us, I think we can get a grip over this crowd in no time.”

Hash gave me a final nod, and strolled off. The first thing I did was grab a glass of wine. Everyone looked more suave like that, and it gave me an excuse to put myself in the center of the room. Several curious eyes followed me as I picked up a plate of venison on the way back, and it was not long before the first of my visitors followed.

She was a young woman, something I sensed would be a common theme in the hours to come, with a spear in hand and an unquenchable rage about her. I swirled my drink in its cup and waited for her to speak.

“Hey! Creepy little boy.” In my own name, was I going to have to be called little boy all evening? “Tell us what's going on, or I'm gonna shish-kebab you with my spear.” 

“I have no idea what you mean,” I replied, pretending to be preoccupied with the vortex within my flute of wine. That glorified stick of hers was hardly sharp enough to pierce a slice of bread, let alone me. “Why would you think I know anything at all, dear?”

“Because you're the only person who looks even slightly at home here? Everyone else is freaking out, and you're just sipping a drink. What are you, one of Santa's elves? Krampus' stolen children? Why are we stuck in a Christmas celebration?” She waved her spear around threateningly.

That was interesting. I did not know what Santa or Krampus were, but I did know the elves, and I knew I could not hope to pass for one in my life. “Maybe,” I said, winking. “Or maybe not.” With luck, she would elaborate.

The girl seemed to only grow angrier at my words, leveling her spear at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hash watch me with alarm. I shook my head slightly, warning her not to rescue me. It would be for the best if we did not show our hand yet. 

“Come on then. Aren't you going to stab me already?” I spread my arms, offering her a clear view of my chest. She narrowed her eyes, and for a moment I felt a genuine flash of fear. Beneath that gaze was something that writhed and fed on rot, something old as time itself and hardly less conquerable.

And then it was gone, as an old man grabbed her weapon and pulled it from her grasp. “Athena! What the hell are you doing?” He was followed by another human boy and… a summoner? 

Yes, a summoner, or something akin to it. I had not seen one of her kind in a very long time. The plot thickened. I have the newcomers a lazy smile, and they responded by tensing up.

“What on earth are you?” That was the summoner, pushing angry little Athena behind her. “You're not human, that's for sure.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Athena snapped, wrestling her spear back. “That thing knows something. I'm sure of it.”

The summoner met my gaze, piercing me right through. “No he doesn't,” she said, before I could recover. “He's bluffing.”

“Excuse me?” I pushed myself out of my chair, going nose to nose (or nose to collar, as the case was) with her in not-so-faux rage. “I know plenty, little mortal. For starters-” Pulling her down by the scruff of her tattered shirt, I whispered in her ear. “I know your little girl is cursed. I know that you are a witch, and a good one at that. And, I know that you really do not want to go back to where you came from, so how about you enjoy the food and leave me be, hmm?”

That last line was nothing more than an educated guess, but it paid off. They were too scruffy and thin to have been living in safe conditions, and I caught sight of more than one open sore on them. 

Gears turned in the summoner's brain, wondering if it was worth the cost to call my bluff. Eventually she stepped away from me. “My apologies, sir,” she said, nodding politely. “We'll leave you be.”

I grinned. “Thank you very much, little one. Go try the venison, if you feel peckish. I find it delightful.”

Athena opened her mouth to argue some more, but the summoner gave her a warning glance, and she left with naught more than a glare at me. Settling back in my chair, I took another sip of the wine.

“Hey, you're Hash's boyfriend, aren't you?” On the list of things I did not want to be called, that somehow ranked below ‘creepy little boy'. I turned to see Hash's vampire friend, still wearing his Smiley Mart™ shirt. What was his name: Dane? Dale? Dave?

Yeah, Dave sounded about right. “Hello, Dave,” I said, turning back around so I did not have to look at him. “Is there something you want?”

“Hash told me to come find you. She said you could use my help?” He stepped around so I was facing him once more. “I really don't know what to do, honestly.”

I sighed. “Go interrogate someone,” I told him, more to get him off my back than anything else. “Actually, go keep an eye on some people for me.” I pointed out the Godhuntress, who was flapping her wings in an attempt to get a mortal girl to stop poking them. 

“Is that who I think that is?” Dave's eyes widened. “You think this was her doing?”

“Hmm? Of course not. I want you to tell me when she looks distracted so I can go kill her.”

“You're crazy,” he said. “That's the Godhuntress. You know, the greatest deity since the Creator herself? Yeah, that Godhuntress. She'll squash you like a bug.”

“Doesn't matter. I will find a way.” I clenched my glass. “She took something very precious from me, and I will take my revenge, one way or another.”

“Alright, alright. It'll be a hell of a story to tell, in any case.” He made to leave, then turned back. “Say, is that wine any good? I'm feeling rather thirsty.”

I considered it. “It is rather dry,” I replied. “But fruity, too. Take that as you will.”

“Cool. Thanks, Hash's boyfriend,” he said, and the glint in his eye told me he was calling me names in insult. Unfortunately, by the time I had registered it, he was long gone.

People were beginning to crowd around the tables, finally encouraged to touch the food. That was when I spotted someone I had thought I would never see again: Merida Ryder. And with another forester at that! 

For once, curiosity got the better of me, and I trotted over to talk to her. She would not recognise me, of course. I had taken great pains to disguise myself that time, and I wondered how she would feel seeing my true face for once. 

“Well, well. If it isn't miss Merida, all grown up. Remember me?” I tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, and it broke my heart to see how she had changed. Her eyes were sunken, the lights gone from them. Merida looked down at me, and there was no spark of recognition. “No,” she said flatly.

The forester turned around, and he let out a little gasp. “You're-” I shushed him. 

“Can you not see I am trying to talk to someone here? It is most lovely to see a fellow Ces-ilre, but I must speak to Merida first,” I said. “Are you sure you don't remember me? I passed you that gun, all those fateful years ago.”

She blinked slowly. “Don't. I don't want to remember.” Merida shuddered. “Go away, Hans. Thank you for your help. I absolve you of the favours you owed me.”

I am not and have never been a stranger to suffering, but it hurt to see her crushed like that. “So you do recognise me,” I continued. “What happened, Merin? You used to be so happy.”

“I grew up.” 

And that was all she would say on the matter. The forester extracted my hand from her shoulder and led me back to my couch. I let him, of course, something in the hollow cavity where my heart should be aching. 

“You're the Spirit Emperor,” he whispered to me, snapping me out of my reverie. “What are you doing here, my lord? And how did you know Merida?”

“Same as you, and that is none of your business,” I whispered back, slipping into forester dialect. “What is your name and clan, sirrah?”

“Kristavla, formerly of the Ko clan. My lord.”

“So you were there when… the Incident happened.” I jerked my chin at the Godhuntress, now attempting to engage a very uncomfortable Dave in conversation. Or perhaps she was interrogating him.

“No. I was attending to my fiance, my lord. The late Kitsy Te-clan.”

“Oh. I killed her, did I not?” I vaguely remembered a foul-mouthed guard who had insulted me the moment I arrived on castle grounds.

“Yes, and I thank you for it.” Kristavla shook his head. “I will not speak ill of the dead, but she was not a good woman.” 

“I can imagine that.”

We sat there in silence for a few more moments. “Would you like to help me avenge our people?” I gestured again to the Godhuntress, who was being fawned over by a lich of some kind. “We may not get another chance.”

“I am not one for vengeance,” Kristavla said. “But you are a friend of my friend. And so I will. For you, my lord, and for our people, may their remains soak the earth.”

“Thank you. Be on your way, friend,” I told him. “Speak with the vampire in the demeaning costume—” I had to approximate a word for Dave's Smiley Mart uniform— “and see if you can isolate and weaken her. From there we shall make the kill.”

Kristavla nodded, and slipped away. Taking his place (for it seemed I would have an endless supply of supplicants today), was a lean, sly doctor. Her red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and her skin was dry enough to resemble scales.

“Hello, Spirit Emperor,” she hissed. “Fancy seeing you caught up in the Christmas web.”

There was that word again. Christmas. “Care to explain, doctoress?” I offered her a seat. She was about as human as I, with the way she moved, though I could not tell what on earth she was.

“I am an Oracle,” she rasped, as though reading my mind. “And my people arranged this felicitous meeting.”

I froze up. “I see. And why should I believe you?”

She laughed, a sound that had more in common with the death of a small furry animal than anything friendly. “Your name is Hans-el Ko-clan. You killed and ate your parents to save the Goddess of Dreams. Your lover is a shapeshifter who will not tell you its true name, and you hold a grudge against the fallen angel they call the Godhuntress.”

“All very impressive,” I agreed. “ But any old fool could have worked that out with the right background knowledge. Tell me something nobody knows.”

The Oracle grinned, revealing red and raw gums. “Careful what you wish for, little boy.” She shifted closer, and I could smell the blood on her breath. “You claimed the throne by mimicking the magic-thieving spell the Godhuntress used on your dear friend. You helped the renegade Merida start the civil war in Palioden by orchestrating a situation in which she had to kill her sister using a gun you provided. And, as the topping on this pie, your worst fear is-”

“No!” It came out louder than I expected, and more than a few heads turned our way. “I believe that you are an Oracle. Please, do not continue this.”

The Oracle leaned back, victorious. “Good boy,” she murmured, proving that there was, in fact, a nickname I could dislike more than ‘Hash’s Boyfriend'.  “Now, I suggest you stop hiding in this little corner and get to moving the plot forward, will you, dear? You ought to be an active protagonist.” She pushed me off my chair. “And be grateful we didn't send you the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present or Future.”

Before I could ask her what the ghosts, or even Christmas, were, she was gone. Not gone like a ghost walker, or like a teleporter. Gone entirely, as though she had never existed in the first place. I shook my head to ward off the strange feeling, and got up. It was unwise to disregard an Oracle's warnings.

I was about to approach a random person, when someone once again came to me. For once, she seemed perfectly normal. “You look like you know what's going on,” she said without preamble. “Care to explain?”

“Unfortunately for you? I do not,” I informed her, pausing to pick up a few jellies and put them onto my plate.

“Well that's not very polite of you, seeing as I know what Christmas is and you don't,” she replied, taking a few jellies of her own. “And I hear you killed your parents too. We've got that in common, at least.”

That gave me pause. She didn't look like a mage of any kind. “And how did you do that, little girl? With a knife? A pillow to the face at night?”

“A death ray, actually. I'm Mara. Nice to meet you, Hans,” she informed me, sticking her hand out. “You're the talk of the party, you know. They say you're an Emperor.”

“And just who might this ‘they’ be?” Blasphemous gods above, did she ever shut up? 

“Well, Visitor over there, and his buddy Aida. They're from Palioden, which a few little birds tell me is a land in your world. Which, if you can't tell already, I'm not from.”

“What?” 

Mara giggled. “You heard me, Mr Spirit Emperor. I'm not from your world. And if I eavesdropped right, they-” she pointed at Athena's crew- “aren't either. The creepy girl who stopped you from killing that goddess too.”

“The Godhuntress isn't a goddess,” I snapped. “She's nothing but a grandiose genocider. And how did you know about me and Katherine? Everyone was asleep.” 

“I happen to be really good at pretending to be asleep. Picked up the habit in kindergarten.” I tiptoed to pick a cream puff off the top of its tower, and she helped lift it down for me. 

“Thank you. So what do you want, Mara-murderer? A boon? As you have ascertained, I know naught more about this place than you.” Finally, that was a lie. The Oracle had provided me with some excellent information.

“I want to help you kill that bitch. The Godhuntress, or whatever her name was.” Mara's eyes glinted with bloodlust.

“Why?”

“She disrespected me,” Mara snarled, cracking her knuckles. “I was wondering what she was, and I poked her wings, and would you believe it? That fucking bitch slapped me. Me! No fucking warning.”

I was deeply surprised to hear that the Godhuntress had not done worse than a mere slap for the insolence of grabbing her wings. But any aid was welcome aid, especially from someone as adept at spying as Mara appeared to be. “I see. Let's team up, shall we?”

“Excellent.” She rubbed her hands together. “I know that pretty elf girl and the convenience store dude are on your side. Is the other spirit with you too?” I nodded. “Mmkay. I'll tell them everything I know, and report back.”

“Certainly,” I replied. Mara let out another disturbing giggle, and ran off. There was something deeply wrong with that girl, I decided.

I drifted down the table, plucking up more desserts as I went. The talk of the party, was I now? I could certainly see it. More than one person parted way to let me pick out my food, and I saw a distinct wariness in their eyes. Then again, it was but my dues. 

I passed by a Luxatian Crusader in full armour, and she nodded at me. “Spirit.”

“Knight.” For once, I was having a normal encounter. For once, nobody was questioning me about Christmas, or Santa, or Krampus, whatever they were. For once-

The knight unsheathed her sword.

I moved to dodge the blow, but it never came. Indeed, she was not so much as looking at me. Her eyes were trained on someone else, instead. A lich.

“You,” the knight snarled. “Iraela Foundling. The Lich-Queen. I swore an oath to defeat you. And now, I shall.” Ah. It seemed I was not the only one with a grudge to satisfy. 

The Lich-Queen blinked, and eloquently croaked out, “What?”

“I am going to watch your unlife spill out onto my blade, foul beast. You killed my family, my entire village. I watched your ghouls eat my sisters. They were six years old, Lich-queen. I had to run while they begged me to save them.” Tears sprung to the knight's eyes. “You are a monster of the foulest kind, and a fog shall lift the day you die.”

“A monster? Damn right I am a monster,” the lich announced. “I am the monster humanity made of me. Your kind declared me cursed, broken, unlovable. All I did was listen to their words. You should have known it by now: a child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. And all I ever wanted to feel was warm.” She threw her arms wide. “Go on. Slay me. Continue your precious little cycle of hatred. One day, the people I saved, the ones your family scorned, will avenge me.”

A glint in her eye told me she had no plans of going down so easily.

The Crusader spat on the ground. “Spare me your lies, Lich-Queen. Your pretty words will not sway justice.”

I sighed. I knew what kind of woman turned herself into a lich, and it was hardly the sort who a mere knight could defeat. If nobody stopped that fool knight, she was going to get herself killed.

In a flash, I was standing behind the Crusader, barely reaching her underarm. A quick knockout spell later, and she was down, keeling over like a metal doll with its strings cut.

The room had fallen silent. Everyone, even the Godhuntress herself, watched me. I resisted the urge to declare my undying hatred of her, and instead gave a cheery wave to the room. 

The Lich-Queen let her arms fall. “Say, might you be the Spirit Emperor?”

I nodded. “The one and only. And a little bird—” I prodded the unconscious knight with my foot— “told me you were the Lich-Queen. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And I yours.” She offered her forearm, and I took it. “I actually knew your predecessor: Sucsu'anane.”

That name belonged in our history books. Sucsu was old, and infamous. “But that would make you the first Lich-Queen,” I murmured. “You- It was you who started the Runic wars! It was you who caused the shifters to die out!”

I was staring a legend in the face, a woman who had caused horrors long before my time, horrors that echoes for all eternity. “By the false gods, it is good to meet you! What an honour, Lady Iraela. What an inspiration you were to me.”

I might have spread the flattery on too thick, but Iraela lapped it all up. “Why, you're too kind. Let me tell you: ruling is all in the flair. Why, for my coronation…”

I let history's greatest disaster lead me by the arm to a nice corner, where she proceeded to chatter my ear off. For once, I shall spare you the details. Suffice to say, I learnt more about the history of the Deadlands than I ever wished to know. 

“Let me tell you something, Hans,” she said, interrupting her own monologue.

“Hmm?”

“I heard you knew a shifter named Hash. Well, I met him too.”

That made me perk right up. I'd known Hash was older than I, but that old? Fascinating. What else was he hiding from me?

“Don't trust him. He betrayed us all. We would have won the war, if that little bastard hadn't run off to the elves and spilled the beans. We could have been great, Hans-el. Our peoples, the vampires and the spirits and the ghouls, could have ruled the world. But Hash was soft. Do not let that softness corrupt you,” she warned. “It will rot you from the inside, and when your enemies scoop your guts out, they will not so much as give you the gift of eating you alive.”

“I know,” I replied. “My mother was soft, and it brought her naught but suffering. Our people revile it.”

“And yet you love him,” Iraela commented wryly. “That alone tells me enough about you.”

I did not dare lie and disagree. “Yes, I do. But Hash can take care of himself, now. He's slippery as hell.”

“Yes, that much I have seen from tonight's festivities. But that is the point, is it not? He will slip your grasp and betray you, just as he did the shifters. One day, you will make a cruel choice, a choice for the greater good, and his soft little heart will push him to betray you. All because you weren't hard enough to cut him off.”

I stood up, suddenly reminded of my conversation with the Oracle. My greatest weakness indeed, I thought. “That may be so, my lady. He may betray me, and leave me dead in the gutter. But that is a risk I am willing to take.” I brushed invisible dust off my skirt. “All you are is a woman who failed to rule the world, Lady Iraela. At the end of the day, all you have is your love's blood on your hands and a heart you wrenched out of your own chest. Even if I lose it all, at least I loved, and was loved in turn. For someone who went on and on about needing to feel warm earlier, you just do not seem to understand that, do you?”

Iraela laughed. “So young,” she whispered. “So young and so foolish. They'll make mincemeat out of you, little Emperor. And I'll laugh at you from my grave.”

I strode away from her, back stiff and fists clenched. I could take insult all day, but this? This firm condemnation? It stung. It stung like my father's whippings. It stung and I wanted to never think of it again.

I was still standing about, willing emotion away from me, when Mara tapped me on the shoulder. “Come on,” she said, grinning. “Buncha tables appeared. I grabbed one for us. Your little vampire friend got dragged off to hang out with the rest of his kind, but it seems I'm free to roam.” She laughed maniacally. 

She led me to a table. Hash, my Hash, my brilliant, softhearted friend, grabbed my arms and all but pulled me by his side. “Check this out: That vampire's got a tan!” He pointed a woman in work clothes, conversing animatedly with Dave. “Apparently, she's a field researcher. Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can,” I agreed numbly. 

“Oh, and this Christmas thing! Mara told me all about it. Apparently, they eat turkey and give gifts and celebrate this saint of theirs. I don't have a gift for you, but I figured this might do!” He pointed at the Godhuntress and lowered his voice. “I cut a sleeping rune onto her piece of turkey while I was carving it. She doesn't know know to use the cutlery, so when she bites into it, the spell will activate, and it'll be your chance! Whaddya think?”

He really was sly. “Brilliant, my love,” I whispered, my mind still on the Lich-Queen. “What else did you find?”

He scrunched his nose up and thought. “Um, the God of Evil's here, and he's a pretty chill guy. The Godhuntress' daughter's here too, and she's got an axe to grind with dear old mum, too, but I convinced her not to do anything drastic. There's some poor blue fellow in the corner, and he's got some kind of curse. I didn't go too close, but he seems… different from the rest of us. When we're done, we should go investigate.”

Beside me, a man in a strange vest sat down. “Hello there, lad,” he began, only to fall silent when he met my eyes. “You're no child. You're a monster.” He stumbled back, clutching his hand to his chest. “Maya? Let's find another table.”

Hash barely hid back laughter as he all but fled the scene, the girl he called Maya giving me a wry smile and nod as she followed. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. The others. Look over there. No, not at the demon-girl. The blondie and the redhead next to her.”

“I recognise the others at that table,” I told him. “Kristavla and Merida.”

“Yeah, Kris was helping us out earlier. The redhead? Apparently an infamous mind-mage. She fuckin conquered an entire city, all on her own. And the blond girl's a spell-snapper. Ugly combo, if you ask me. They're from the same era as us, but Nyctomachian.”

“And them?” I pointed at Athena and the one-eyes summoner. “They damn near called my bluff.”

“Yeah, they bothered Dave real bad too. Something tells me they're not gonna harass us again, though.” He grinned at me. “A certain someone may have implied that he was the reason they even ended up here.”

I wanted to facepalm. “Damnit, Hash. That was exactly what I told them too.” I looked over at them, deep in discussion. The old man met my gaze, and held it with the kind of defiance that promised trouble. “Ah, what the hell. We can deal with them later. For now, let us celebrate.”

I drank more wine, this time watered down (for no man of my stature should ever get drunk), gossiped with Hash and Mara, and bided my time.

The Godhuntress took her spare time sipping drinks and eating appetisers. For a moment I suspected she knew of our devious plan, for she avoided her turkey for far too long. Then she lifted the fateful piece of poultry with more grace than it deserved, and bit down.

I was by her side before her head hit the table. My reputation preceded me, for the others at her table, a rather foolish spirit and his mortal friend, scrambled back. Gasps of shock and horror resounded as I readied my blade.

It was quite a shock to realise those noises were not for me. I glanced up from my goal for one fateful minute, perhaps compelled by the strings of Fate that the Oracles pulled, and caught sight of what could only be described as a cryptid.

He came from the chimney, white and red despite the soot. A full white beard hung limply from his chin, and his deep voice resounded throughout the room. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry bloody Christmas, fools!” He pulled out a massive sack and grinned at the room. “You're all bad apples, the lot of you! Coal for everyone!” 

Everyone except me dodged the sudden hail of coal that followed the opening of his sack. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He leered at me, icy blue eyes piercing me like the fangs of the last Oracle I met. 

I lifted my knife, aiming it at the dazed Godhuntress' throat. A glimmer of recognition dawned upon her face, but I did not let her recover fully. Down went my blade, swift, brutal and twice as just as any executioner's axe.

And what a merry, bloody Christmas it was.

[kairaloi]

I'd never expected this.

I sat at the dining table my dwarf neighbor had built for me when I first moved to the swamp. A warm ceramic mug of tea between my large clawed hands was another gift from a neighbor.

The weather was miserable; pouring rain in white sheets and cold enough to fog breath.

Inside my stone hut, it was warm, dry, and cozy.

My sister sat across from me. She'd been engulfed by the massive wool blanket I'd wrapped her in. The mug was nearly too big and heavy for her to lift, so to avoid spilling, she rested it on the table and tilted it to sip. She'd lost all dignity at this point. In fact, she'd lost everything, or so she claimed.

Water dripped from her hair.

"How about you start from the beginning?" I asked, my voice low and rumbling.

Arabella flinched. Her small, soft voice was still hoarse from her trip through the torrential rain to my soggy domicile of exile. Probably the farthest she'd ever traveled, let alone unaccompanied. I was surprised she'd made it here without more mishap than a torn and muddy dress. "Father... is a liar," she said.

I nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure you didn't come here to tell me the obvious."

Arabella flinched again, lowering her head. "I'm sorry."

That was unexpected.

I sipped my tea. I'd learned how to make a few simple brews from the witch of the forest. In exchange, I gave her some of the meat I caught and scared off hunters that got too close to our part of the woods. Her face was hideous, but she was old, and who was I to judge?

Arabella's face twisted. "He promised that if you took the curse for the family that the rest of us would be fine. But Kyle has... He's turned to stone! Mother is sprouting feathers! Father is the only one untouched--but I know he's made a bargain. Everyone else in exchange for his life!"

I leaned my elbow on the table, chin resting in my palm. "Ah... Arabella, I've learned a few things while out here, so let me fill you in."

Her eyes lifted, wide and shining.

"The curse is permanent." I lifted a finger, releasing my mug to do so. "The curse requires consent. If you don't consent, it doesn't work. So Kyle agreed to take it on. Monica--"

"Mother."

"Monica. Agreed to turn into a chicken."

"Harpy."

My lips curved. "Ah--" I barely stopped myself from laughing.

Arabella's jaw clenched. She looked down.

"So unless you agree to take his curse... nothing can be done."

"But Kyle! He's only thirteen!"

"Oh. Wow..." I mused. I hadn't realized it had been that long. "Well, sorry. But it's like sex. Once the deed is done, you can't undo it. He agreed." I briefly wondered if our parents had even told him that he had an older sister. Probably not. Not that it mattered now anyway. Kyle was as good as dead... unless.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Arabella screamed, her voice giving out at the end even though she'd slammed to her feet. It was hardly impressive since jumping out of the chair made her lose eight inches of height.

"Well... The Bog Hag said that curses are a lot like locks, and any lock can be picked. You just have to figure out the locking mechanism."

Arabella's eyes widened. "Like True Love's Kiss?" she asked.

"A fae demented enough to continue making deals with Allen in exchange for his family wouldn't pick something so cute."

"Father," Arabella corrected automatically, then looked down as she carefully climbed back into the chair. "What do you mean continue?"

"Loki, as he likes to be called, told me that I was taking on Allen's debt," I said with a shrug. "This leads me to believe that Allen has asked for more favors, which has incurred more debt."

"That..." her voice faded, expression changing to one of someone putting the pieces together.

"So I'm guessing the family has had quite a bit of fortune lately?" I asked, picking up my mug to finish my tea. I stood, careful not to knock anything with my tail as I went to the stove to refill my mug.

"Please help me..." Arabella asked.

I looked over my shoulder at her. "Why should I? I'm happy here."

"But you're..."

"A monster?" I grinned. "I feel more myself than I ever did in Allen's house. You can't tell me it was easy to get here with your ribs wrapped in steel and legs bound by cloth." I set my mug on the table and leaned over her, a hand on the back of the chair she sat in. "Tell me, Arabella. Were Madam Wretched's dancing lessons fun? Were Mister Wrathful's tutoring sessions enjoyable?"

My sister swallowed. She wanted to correct me on Wreath and Willson's names, but she didn't.

"Did you jump for joy when they assigned a knight to watch you day and night so you couldn't have a moment of silence without his resentful sighs interrupting?"

She flinched, hunching down in the wool blanket. "It wasn't all bad..."

"One thing," I challenged, lifting a claw near her face. "Name one thing."

Arabella opened her mouth, then closed it. She was struggling.

"All the food. All of it looked and smelled so delicious, but you weren't allowed a morsel," I offered.

She grit her teeth.

"The garden you weren't allowed in without a wide hat, parasol, and six men carrying a tent over you at all times."

"Stop..." she begged, hands covering her face.

"The man you were ordered to marry who looks like a slime and mud golem had a child," I finished.

She choked.

I put my hand on her back, gently rubbing. "Go ahead and laugh."

Arabella sobbed, laughing and crying at the same time. I knelt and put my arms around her. She gripped my thick neck, her tiny hands buried in my wild red mane. "You're right!" she admitted, voice muffled by my shoulder. "But how did you know about him?"

"People from town sometimes go to the Bog Hag for help with... problems."

"His personality is even worse than his face!"

"I could tell by the sneer they gave him in the newspaper."

Arabella sat back, wiping her face with her fingers.

I looked up at her with a sigh. "I'm still your sister," I said, resigned. She'd only been four when I was cursed, after all. She had been my little shadow, and... being thirteen at the time, I'd found her to be very annoying. Now, she was sixteen. If I'd looked up the definition of the word Princess, her picture would've been there; blonde, blue-eyed, petite, weak, soft-spoken...

Arabella stared down at me and swallowed as her eyes searched my face. "Please help me... get revenge."

My lips curled, revealing the sharp teeth my curse had blessed me with.

Despite being cursed into a monster and being banished by your royal parents, you were happy with your life. Your home was peaceful. You always had enough to eat. You even had friends despite your appearance, so yeah your life was great. Your non-cursed sibling's life, on the other hand

[savebatsfromscratch]

Heyyyy weird question my sister is trying to get into Minecraft YouTubers but doesn't know who to watch do you have any recckmendations (she's young)

This turned out WAY longer than I meant it too, sorry in advance! XD Also, this is all my opinion obviously, please no one get mad at me!!

Redstoners: 1. Ethoslab is one of my favorites, but his editing style can be a little bit of an acquired taste depending on the episode. (It is very very barebones.) He is completely family friendly and I find him entertaining, but he might be aimed at a somewhat older audience than the person you are talking about, just because of the stuff he does in minecraft being often more technical or specific.

2. If she likes technical stuff but wants slightly more "childish" editing style, Tangotek is a good option. He can sometimes be a little bit inappropriate, but I don't think he has been recently...?

3. Mumbojumbo isn't usually my style but he's another classic family friendly pick. Again, if she likes technical minecraft but not Etho or Tango, he might be a good option.

Builders: 1. Grian is a classic and I like a lot of his stuff, he also does a lot to make himself seem even more family friendly than a lot of even his other family friendly buddies, but not in a way that's boring or overly childish.

2. Goodtimeswithscar is also extremely entertaining and an incredible Minecraft builder if she cares about the beauty of the stuff, but he can be a little bit less family friendly than the other people I have listed. No swearing or excessive joking, just occasional... interesting word choices and stuff like that.

3. Smallishbeans probably has the flashiest editing style out of all of these people, as well as usually the shortest episodes, but they are almost always very engaging and I like them a lot.

Pvpers? 1. I don't watch PVPers besides Purpled* and he hardly uploads anymore, and I don't remember if he is family friendly enough to recommend to this person.

2. *Technoblade may also be a good pick for your sister, but as you probably/maybe know he unfortunately passed away a few years ago now. :9 His videos were always extremely entertaining and are still up to be watched, but it can be a little bit depressing knowing that he's not with us anymore and some of his jokes could be somewhat inappropriate for children at times. Despite all of that he is one of my favorites and I would recommend him to pretty much anyone in, like, the highschool and up range maybe??? I didn't know about youtube until middle school so I could be entirely off and he could be fine for younger people, but it's kinda up to you based on how old she is.

Extra notes: Out of these people, my favorites are Ethoslab, Goodtimeswithscar, and Grian, but any of the others are also really good. :) In order I probably watch them with this priority (depending on which series of course, but I mean in general): Ethoslab, Goodtimeswithscar, Grian, Tangotek, Smallishbeans, Mumbojumbo

I personally much prefer to watch builders over redstoners, but the things that some of those people can pull off (*cough* *cough* Tangotek's Decked Out 1 and 2 *cough* *cough*) is mindblowing. Idk if that's her thing but, like, if it is. Oh my God tell her to check out Decked Out 1 and 2. (Decked Out one is in Hermitcraft season 7, Decked Out two is Hermitcraft season 9.)

Another person I watch who is NOT in this group and is NOT popular is StormLordZeus, he's SO FUN THOUGH. I love him!!! (Also Huntedskelly!!) Scratchcraft!!! Completely family friendly, but very small scale. Tight knight community so maybe not, but I Love It.

As for specific Minecraft series, I recommend Grian's Hermitcraft Season 6, and 3rd and Double Life, Tangotek's Hermitcraft Seasons 7 and 9, pretty much anything from Goodtimeswithscar but maybe especially his Hermitcraft in general and Secret, 3rd, Double Life, Smallishbeans' Hermitcraft 10, Limited Life and X Life, Ethoslab's Hermitcraft 7 and 9 and Secret and Last Life, Mumbojumbo's random little videos, Hermitcraft 10, and Last Life.

For Stormlordzeus and Huntedskelly, Scratchcraft season two feels the most completed. For Technoblade his Skyblock Potato war with Squidkid is iconic. For Purpled his random storytime videos are the most fun.

Life Series order: 3rd Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Real Life (april fools episode), Wild Life

TLDR: Ethoslab might be boring to some but he's my favorite, Grian and Mumbojumbo are both very popular for the right reasons and are usually engaging, Smallishbeans might be slightly inappropriate sometimes but he is the most engaging in my opinion, Tangotek is a lot of fun and very engaging but I get very lost in his technical videos, and Goodtimeswithscar is very very funny and very very talented. (If sometimes slightly inappropriate.)

[somelonelywordmonger]

I've not even finished the first episode of season 2 of Squid Game yet, but I have to say two things:

I didn't know it was illegal to ride a motorcycle without a helmet in South Korea. It makes sense, and I honestly have no idea if it is that way over here in the United States, but you see people without helmets all the time. Though this is a drama, I doubt that law was faked. That dude just got fined $13.62 for that, but I suspect there was only one helmet, and he was kind enough to give it to his girl, who might've been shallow and ditzy for real or was trying to get her guy out of a fine. It failed and backfired. I suspect we'll be seeing him again because he seems down on his luck since 20,000 won was a lot to him, which means that poverty is something he is well-acquainted with. Plus, he'd have two helmets if he could afford it, I'm sure.

I really appreciate the people helping Jun-ho and Gi-hun as they try to find the island and the man with the briefcase, respectively. Even if they are doing it for money or other reasons that can be seen as selfish from certain standpoints, I still think it is really cool and big of these people. Especially if they don't 100% believe the story these two have and that we all witnessed. I just hope these people who have been dragged into it aren't about to get caught up in the Games or suffer other consequences because of Jun-ho and Gi-hun. Even if the people helping Gi-hun are loan sharks who will take a kidney if they don't get paid.

[ginnympotter]

I would love to see jealous Ginny! I’ve read so many jealous Harry fics and haven’t come across any jealous Ginny ones. I’m thinking Christmas ministry party or quidditch Christmas party where a few ladies who think Harry is fine are planning on how to trap him underneath the mistletoe.

"It's been sooo long since we've properly chatted, even though we both work at the Ministry!" said Romilda Vane, smiling in her scant, red Christmas robes, moving forward in a way that made Harry uneasy. "How are things? Word around the street is you might be the youngest person ever to be promoted to Head Auror, and very soon. That's quite impressive."

"Oh, it's really not..." Harry stammered, trying to think of what to say. He never really like Romilda, nor understood her interest in him- other than the obvious of being The Chosen One or The Boy Who Lived or whatever they were calling him these days.

"But it is!" she insisted, moving even closer. "You've accomplished so much... it's rather attractive."

"Is it?" asked Harry, looking around for a sign of his fiancé, pulling at his collar. "I don't really-"

"Of course it is! You're so ambitious and courageous- that always drew me to you."

"Er, thanks, I guess," Harry said, stepping back. Romilda moved forward in kind. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but I-"

"Oop!" Romilda giggled, looking up. "Mistletoe."

Harry looked up as well, seeing the little plant above their heads. When he looked back down, Romilda was closing her eyes, moving her face towards his-

"Romilda, STOP," Harry demanded, having had quite enough of that, moving back a significant three strides. "I'm NOT interested. I'm with Ginny."

Romilda didn't even look fazed. "Still? C'mon, like school romances ever actually last-"

"Well, ours has," he proclaimed defiantly.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't see a ring-"

Suddenly, a dainty, freckled hand appeared between Harry and Romilda. Ginny wriggled her fingers in Romilda's face, then held up her ring finger, her engagement ring shining brightly. "Now you see one, don't you?"

Romilda's composure dropped momentarily as her jaw hung low at the sight of the diamond. Coming back to herself a moment later, Romilda's narrowed eyes met Ginny's.

"And if that wasn't clear enough..." Ginny trailed off, smiling. She put her ring finger down and lifted her middle finger instead. "Maybe that'll do?"

Romilda let out a small gasp. Keeping her middle finger raised, Ginny used her free hand to loop her arm through Harry's.

"Now do me a favor," Ginny said sharply, despite her smile. "Stay the fuck away from my fiancé."

Romilda scoffed with disdain. "Slag," she said under her breath, turning and walking away.

"Hag," replied Ginny, loud and clear.

Finally putting her middle finger down, Ginny turned her attention towards Harry. "Sorry about that, but I had to. I saw you handling it yourself, but it wasn't scathing enough for my liking."

"Don't be sorry," said Harry, smiling at her with appreciation. "It was hot."

"Oh shut up," laughed Ginny.

"It was!"

"Is that why you took so long to tell her to fuck off yourself? So you could get some pleasure out of my jealousy?"

"Listen, I'm usually the jealous one. It's nice for there to be a switch-"

"Oh, don't be daft. Do you think I like how many witches are all over you all the time? I'm just better at hiding it," she smiled. "But just something about Romilda... she's always gotten to me. Couldn't control myself. Forgive me for my lack of decorum at your work event."

"You are forgiven," said Harry, pulling her closer.

Ginny smiled up at him. "Did you know you're standing under mistletoe?"

"I was made aware of that recently, yes," Harry laughed, and Ginny moved in for a kiss, which he happily met her for, work decorum be damned.

[maples-in-bloom]

Feel I should move this outside of tags now...

prev, it's totally fine, i didn't mean to challenge you, your opinion is okay. It just came to me as a surprise, personally 8 is a season I quite like (esp after 6 and 7) and i wanted to ask for more...

and it just occured to me that I mainly know the series in czech dub - which is great but looks and feels a lot different to the original - so my reasons to enjoy it might not be present in your version and vice versa.

the nanobot thing wasn't explored much but l really enjoyed not being stuck in a tiny ship with the tiny crew anymore.

Not sure if anyone's made a post like this before but Red dwarf really is the show of all time

It's got a genderswap episode, its got a bodyswap episode, it's got multiple clone episodes, plenty of alternate universes and a simply iconic musical number despite the fact that its not a musical show by any means

theres a trans computer, two counts of mpreg, insane levels of homosexual behavior and a robot who goes through a midlife crisis

it's got the most repressed man in existence who also happens to be dead, literally the most optimistic last human alive (seriously, how is he so positive all the time) and a dude with frankly the best wardrobe ever who also happens to be literally a cat

Theres dodgy BBC budget practical effects (which I love), copious moments which are insane in and out of context, sets that are held together with blu tac and a cult following that could probably once destroy anything

It's got that season which not many people like to talk about (cough 8, cough), one of the creators left halfway through and they've all been doing It for over 35 years and are still going somehow

God I love it so much, it really is the show of all time

[mxtantrights]

Sé que se puede, se puede amar

a/n: anddd he strikes again. when I said I was down bad for this man I really meant it. it's bad. anyways this isn't gonna be a two parter (I know I said that last time but this time I mean it!! mostly)

for the sake of this fic: Armando and Mike are still working on their relationship but they are close enough to have each other's phone numbers, Armando is out of prison, he didn't kill the chief, Armando is in some form of therapy.

also based on this song which I've had in my playlist forever.

Armando knows things about life. Like how to aim a gun to kill and how to aim a gun to send a warning. He knows the difference between a friend and an enemy. He knows that life isn't fair, that it's messy and takes no prisoners.

Of course in therapy he's learning to see the positives. He gets to wake up every day in a bed, under a roof, with food to eat and a family (of sorts) to talk to.

And all of those things do him just fine. He just feels like there should be more. Like there is something missing.

This is why, and the only reason why, he pulls out his phone and calls Mike. It takes three rings, and on the third Armando is ready to hand up and text him saying it was a butt dial. But Mike picks up.

They both greet each other. Mike asks how Armando is doing. Armando should say okay, or fine. But he doesn't really want to lie. So he tells the truth which is still a bit rare for him at this point in his life.

He tells Mike about this feeling he has in his chest. How quiet his apartment is and how boring it looks. How when he's done with work, he hangs out with the only co-worker he can stand and then shuffles home.

Mike jokes with Armando that he's missing a love life. Which Armando doesn't take seriously at all. He's a good looking man in Miami, he's not missing out on anything.

Then Mike tells him that there's a difference between whatever one-night stands he's had and the real thing. Mike goes on a tangent about his former ways and how he's glad he wrapped it up and fell in love with his now-wife.

They end the call joking around with each other, Mike tells him to stay out of trouble, and Armando tells him to not hold his breath.

But as Armando falls asleep that night, or tried to, Mike's words hit him. All the meaning less hook ups, hook-ups that he might've wanted to be more. He was searching for something and he didn't even know it.

-------

THREE WEEKS LATER

There are boxes in the hallway up to his apartment. It makes him do a double take. It made him highly suspicious but it's still something he's working on getting used to. Not exactly trusting other people out right but not thinking the worst without having evidence to do so.

Armando hears the elevator ding. He took the stairs up, because it was coming down from the forth floor. From his floor. Whoever it is could be his new neighbor.

He turns around, wanting to see who it is.

Seeing you isn't like how they describe it in the movies. It's not like he's instantly in love with you or something. This is real life, that's not how it works.

But he sees you, with a box in your hands. In a short sleeve pink shirt and a pair of jean overalls. And you come walking his way, with a smile on your face. And he doesn't smile at people. Never to be polite, never to ease tension or awkwardness.

He smiles when you stop just a foot in front of him.

"You must be my neighbor. I'm sorry for all the boxes." you say.

"Don't worry about it. Do you need help?" he asks.

He never offers to help people. But it just came tumbling out of his mouth before he could think any better. He didn't know you, he doesn't know if he can trust you, but here he is offering to move your stuff in.

You ramble about how he doesn't have to, but he just takes one of the boxes that line the hallway floor into his arms. You lead the way to the apartment across from his and key open the door.

When he puts down the box inside your apartment you offer him a bottle of water. He jokes that it was only box and there are a few more he wants to help you with before he can earn a water from you.

So as you head back down stairs to get more boxes, he moves the ones in the hallway inside your apartment. Most of them pretty heavy. He can see why you were just lining them up instead of bringing them in one by one.

The two of you talk friendly, which his also something he doesn't usually do. Armando? Friendly? Either he says nothing or he says something that would get him smacked. Or at least that's what his mother always said.

It takes about an hour and change to get all the boxes inside your apartment.

When you finally get the last one inside, you exhale in relief. Then you go over to the fridge which only has a carton of eggs, milk, a measly half opened package of bread and a case of hard seltzer. You offer him one now.

He takes it, leaning against the wall. None of your furniture is ready to sit on.

You talk casually about what you do for a living, why you moved to Miami, where home is, etc. He learns things about you then and wonders if this will be a one off.

He's the one to cut it short. Armando says he's got early hours tomorrow so he's going to go. Which isn't true per say. Yes he has work but he doesn't need to leave because of that. It's not like he's going to go to bed right at this moment.

But he also doesn't want to take up your time. You obviously have somethings to unpack. He doesn't want to keep you any longer. So the two of you say goodbye.

-

A MONTH LATER

He's starting to think he's weird. He's weird, he has to be, for noticing these things about you. Like what time you get up in the morning because he can smell your breakfast through his apartment. Or which days you happen to have off because he can smell your cleaning products.

He's weird. Definitely.

Mike said he has a crush.

Out of all the things Armando was expecting Mike to say, it wasn't that. He's a grown man! He doesn't have a crush on you! That's stupid. He likes running into you, and when you two have time to talk you do.

But he doesn't have your number. He hasn't been in your apartment since he helped you move in. And you've never stepped foot inside of his.

He doesn't have a crush on you. He doesn't really even know you.

Well he knows that you moved to Miami because of a better job opportunity and to be closer to your family. While you liked the east coast you didn't really think of staying there your whole life.

Okay he knows a little bit about you. But only what you've told him. It's not like what Mike said over the phone. There aren't little things he notices you do.

A knock comes from his door. Armando isn't expecting someone so at first he doesn't answer.

There's another knock. Then he can hear your voice calling out his name. He gets up from the couch quickly. Quicker that he likes.

He unlocks then opens the door.

There you stand, a case of coronas in your hand.

He notices right away that you look good. He always thought you were good looking but you look really good right now. You're in a little black dress, and your hair isn't in it's usual state.

Damn. He might have a crush on you.

"Had a bad date, wanted to hang out with someone that doesn't make me want to throw myself off a very tall building." you say.

He opens the door wider, and invites you in. And he feels like a dog for closing the door after you and taking in your full figure. He'll punish himself later, when you're gone.

You take a seat on his couch like you've been here before. You sit all comfortable like, against one of his pillows. You take out one of the glass bottles.

Armando thinks to himself he doesn't know where he put the bottle opener. But then he sees you take out your keys and bend the cap open. He laughs to himself.

He joints you on the couch. Taking a beer for himself and sitting across from you. He opens the bottle on the end of the coffee table. And you laugh at him.

"You know the date wasn't that bad." you speak.

Armando's eyebrows raise, "So what did it?"

"When he started talking about how he wants to get back into stocks. How he misses the rush and feeling like he's on top of the world." you answer.

Armando makes a face. He knows guys like that. Guys that wear the cleanest suits and do the 'finest' drugs. Only to be the worst men walking earth because of how they treat others as objects.

"What made you go out on the date with this loser anyways?" he asks.

You shrug your shoulders and take a swig of beer.

"Thought I would try the dating scene in Miami. I've been proven wrong." you reply honestly.

Armando takes you in for a moment. You were looking for something too. He doesn't know why that thought makes him a little bit happier than before. That you could possibly be in the same boat as him, looking for something a bit more.

You seem to notice him not answering so you wave your hand in his face. But he's not dozing off, he's looking right at you. So when your hand goes left to right his eyes follow your movements.

"I suppose you have no complaints in the dating department." you say.

Armando shrugs his shoulders this time, "I don't."

There's a silence. He watches your face scrunch in confusion. You're too smart. Armando has a way of answering sometimes that is truthful, if you read between the lines.

You're reading between the lines very quickly. Like you see through him.

"As in you don't have complaints, or you don't date?" you ask.

He chuckles and leans back into the couch.

"There are no complains because I don't date." he answers.

"Oh. Wow I just thought because you're good looking and you seem kind-"

"You think I'm good looking?" he cuts you off.

There's a smile on his face. The front row of his teeth showing. He's happy that you find him good looking. He's not saying anything is going to happen between the two of you. But the prospect of it seems, fun.

You laugh, "Of course I mean come on. That's like not even subjective, that's pure fact."

"Wow. Did you have a drink before this? You're bold tonight." he replies.

With that you take the glass bottle and raise it up to you lips. You finish off the beer and set the empty glass back down on the table to your side.

"Don't lie, you like it."

-

A WEEK LATER

He thinks you're doing this on purpose. Yes, when you showed up in that dress the other night that was an accident. A happy accident. But ever since then it's like you've been on his radar.

Just doing things that pique his interest. More than usual.

Like when you were re-painting your front door in that short sleeve and overall combo. He doesn't know what it was about that outfit but he'll never forget it.

Or that time when you asked if you could use his shower. Your was down. Which, he knew about because the landlord had said that whole line was down for the day. You came over in the cutest robe and all your shower products.

He's losing his mind. At least he thinks so.

Thats's the only reason why he's waiting up for you. He got home five minutes ago but he's leaning against his door and playing on his phone.

Because he's losing his mind over you.

He hears the elevator ding. He doesn't look up from his phone yet. Not yet.

"Armando?" you ask.

He looks up.

You've got a bit of a pout on your face. He can't help the smile on his face. You walk up to him, your feet shuffling against the hallway floor. Your bag is slung over your shoulder.

"Hey." he says.

"Are you locked out or something?" you ask him again.

He thinks, there's an idea. Should he though? It wouldn't be very honest of him. But he isn't really feeling like being honest will get his mind off you.

"Forgot my keys at work." he says.

You move over to your own door. He watches as you unlock it and open it wide, gesturing him inside. He peels himself off his door and walks into your apartment.

He feels you behind him, you close the door.

"If you want a drink you're shit outta luck. Forgot to get some this weekend." you say.

He chuckles, "That's alright. I'm just waiting for my coworker to drop my keys off."

"Oh yeah, how far out are they?"

Armando knows how to lie. He's been lying his whole life. Doing those jobs for his mother, being a part of the world he was in. Lying was like breathing. If you didn't do it, you didn't last an hour.

But remember he's losing his mind.

So he comes up with the only answer that he can think of.

He watches you take off your shoes and take a seat on the couch.

"An hour."

You tilt your head at his answer. He had said before that his job was only twenty minutes away. So of course an hour seems like an unreasonable answer.

"I thought-"

He cuts you off, "someone else closed up. so he has to come from his place, which is about twenty minutes in the other direction."

In his head that makes perfect sense. It's just confusing enough to not be pondered for too long. You nod your head, and shed the blazer off of your body.

He joins you on the couch, resting his bag on the floor. His bag which as his keys inside. He'll be sure to not kick it so you don't hear the jingle of the metal.

"How was your day?" you ask, an emphasis on your which means your day sucked.

If he couldn't already tell by the pout you had when you strolled off the elevator.

"Nothing new. But I think I wanna hear about what has you so stressed." he answers.

You sigh, "I'm just bring passed grunt work. I hate it. But I'm new so I can't really say no."

"You want me to come down there and knock some skulls?" he jokes.

You laugh.

"No, I promise. Thanks for the offer though Hercules." you tease.

You see, that right there. That right there is what gets him. You do these things, you say these things and he doesn't know if you possibly feel the same way he does.

You suddenly get up, heading for the kitchen. You do it with a smile. He watches you in pure amusement. He doesn't know why.

When you come back, you have two beers in your hand. It confuses him for a moment. You seem to be able to read his face.

"Well, I figure if I stopped lying, you would too." you say.

You put his beer on the coffee table in front of you. Then you open yours and take a sip. His eyebrows raise on his forehead.

"Okay. I have my keys." he says.

You nod, "So why were you waiting outside of your door?"

"I was waiting for you."

You sit up at that answer, "because..."

He lightly chuckles.

"Because I think I'm going crazy." he answers.

"Crazy about what?" you ask.

"Crazy about you."

You smile wildly, "You just made my day so much better."

-

THREE MONTHS LATER

Armando knows you have an affect on him. But he didn't notice quite the affect he has on you. How could he? He doesn't really put it together like that.

Yes, he knows you like him. You like teasing him. You like riling him up a bit. You also like hearing him talk. Whenever he decided to say more than four sentences you were always so ready to listen.

Which is why he didn't notice that affect he had on you when he said those words a few moments ago. You asked him to repeat it.

You're standing in between his legs as he sits on the couch. His hands are comforting you, rubbing up and down ont he back off your thighs. Your hands are around his neck.

"I said I want to go to bed with you." he repeats.

You look around the room. Which makes him laugh. Of course there is no one else around. Even if there were he would only be talking to you.

He brings you in by the waist, looking you right in the eyes.

"You heard me querida." he says softly.

You smile widely, "I know but I just can't believe you would say something like that. I mean you're making me melt."

He kisses your stomach though the button up shirt you're wearing. You run your hands through his short hair as he does.

He looks up at you.

It's been three months of dates, late night texts, and dropping by each other's places. He didn't think he'd get here. To this point in his life. Asking for something so mundane. To go to bed with you.

But right now that's all he wants.

After a long day of work, he just wants to change his clothes and have you sleeping next to him. He wants to see your nose twitch in your sleep like it usually does. During a movie night at his place you fell asleep and he saw it for the first time. Couldn't get it out of his mind for days.

"Do you have a change of clothes for me?" you ask quietly.

He nods his head, "I have everything. All you have to do is say yes."

You smile.

"Take me to bed, 'Mando."

He wastes no time. With no other words he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and carries you to his room. You latch onto him and nestle your face into the crook of his neck.

Armando wants to remember this feeling forever. It's not love. Not yet. It's the possibility of falling in love.

[nicnevans]

I can't reblog that post about MFA writing styles bc it's unrebloggable but I actually laughed out loud at the assertation that most readers don't know what pernod is. You can buy it in tesco for god's sake 😂

[violenteconomics]

for cater diamond, it starts like this:

cater diamond is made up of lies.

his hair and outfit are designed to give off an air of carefreeness, even when his heart is tearing his chest into ribbons, perfectly planned down to the tiniest wrinkle. he runs all of his words through his head over and over before he says them, navigating every interaction like he's trying to get the perfect run in a video game (and idia would probably appreciate that metaphor if he heard it, maybe cater should bring it up to him, see how it makes him tick—). even his smile has been meticulously manufactured, every little twitch and idiosyncrasy based on the influencers he sees on magicam.

not that anybody really knows about any of this, of course. he's a professional, after all.

all of that to say that cater is a good liar. a great one, even.

one day, ace walks into the kitchen with serious bed-head, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

cater is leaning against the kitchen counter (looking just ruffled enough to appear as if he's just woken up, but still put-together enough to keep up the chill senior persona he's spent the better part of two years cultivating — a look he's mastered after watching the first ten seconds of neige's "morning routine!" video on loop) when he sees the red-head shambling in.

he smirks (corner of his lips tilted 42 degrees up, eyebrows slanted approximately 12 degrees down) and leans his head against his hand. "what's up, sleeping beauty?"

"good mornin', senior," ace grumbles, sounding way too pissed off to actually mean it.

that's what cater likes the most about ace and deuce. they don't feel the need to mask as much as everybody else does in this school. if they have feelings, they'll let you know it almost immediately — ruthlessly in acey's case, and involuntarily in deucey's case. either way, it's kind of cute.

and refreshing. even cater, social butterfly extraordinare, gets tired of analyzing every little bit of somebody's mood and personality and conversational style, in attempt to weaponize them as he tries to achieve the perfect outcome everytime he talks to someone. after two whole years of trying not to trip over any of riddle's landmines (which were actually just his hundreds upon hundreds of trauma responses, as it turns out), cater would've sworn off talking to anybody for the rest of ever if he weren't more of an expert at deceit than that.

it's easy to talk to ace and deuce, comparatively. if they have an opinion, they make it known, even if it's not night raven college-approved. they don't care about what anybody else thinks. for someone who cares about what everyone thinks at all times with no limits on when, where, or who, it's certainly a novelty.

they're different — but cater likes that. they're emotional. they're understanding. they're great underclassmen, even if they don't realize that (and probably never will, because cater's definitely not gonna say anything about it).

cater scrolls through the "#diybreakfast" tag on magicam to hunt for a cute breakfast place he could snap pics of for some more views. "so how'd'ya sleep? deuce didn't try to wrap you up in his 24/7 study sesh, did he?"

ace puts a hand on the back of his neck and groans. "i slept fine. kept waking up because of deuce's loud-ass chewing, though. seriously, who is that noisy when they're eating blueberries?"

cater laughs and pretends the conversation is over.

pretends he didn't notice the way ace hesitated for the briefest of moments before answering cater's simple question.

pretends he didn't notice the way ace rubbed his neck a little too hard to be casual, as if cater didn't use to have that exact same habit whenever riddle took his collar off of him.

pretends he didn't notice the tiny stutter in ace's "i slept fine".

(pretends he didn't say the exact same words, practically verbatim, every time trey asked him if he slept well during their second year at night raven college.)

(because he's supposed to be the unbothered one. he might actually crumble into a pile of misery if he has to let go of that idea.)

(maybe it's the same for ace, too.)

(it might be fake strength, but it's something to hold onto, nevertheless.)

because nobody else would've noticed that. nobody else craves validation so much to even bother. so if he's pretending to be cool and self-assured and confident and everything else that he's not, why would cater?

"damn it, we're out of cereal." ace groans, slamming the pantry door shut with a bit too much force.

the worst thing about being a great liar?

it's incredibly sobering when you meet someone who is almost as good as you.

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

^

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again