#long first day is looooooong

[smallestapplin]

I too have been enamored with your Autobot Harem and I would like to see more please ...but I'm also picturing how fucking funny it would be if the Decepticons somehow heard about this new human friend and decide to kidnap them for Schemes(TM) So they send one of the minicons to scout things out, to see what this human is about, only to be bombarded with footage of Prowl, of all bots, holding the Autobot Darling in a mating press and fucking them stupid while they cry out his name

The 'Cons are baffled, frightened, and kinda grossed out and promptly nope the fuck outta there and spend the next few days trying to delete it from their memories

And they grow even more distressed when they realize just how *often* the Autobots have their way with you, including Optimus goddamn Prime, who seems to be the most addicted out of all of them, and everytime they try to sneak around there is at least one bot doing something lewd

The Autobots, meanwhile, haven't enjoyed this much peace and quiet for this long in a looooooong while, and they know exactly how to best enjoy it

Cackling at the same brain, but I adore the takes here >:) if you or anyone have anymore ideas don't be afraid to tell me

But I'd love to expand on this

🔞Warning : Autobot harem, Spitroasting, GN!Reader, decepticon pov so everything is referred to in Cybertronian words, non-consensual recording, non-consensual voyeurism🔞

Links to one here and chatting here

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When the autobots don't make any moves it's not unusual, after all it's only when the decepticons attack will they be seen, so why not a stealth mission to try and get some intel and break their silly camaraderie?

Oh it was a genuis plan! Get dirt on them, spread it to their friends, and watch them kill each other instead, getting them out of the way once and for all.

Laserbeak was sent first to map up routes, and see who guards at certain times.

It was normal, it was routine even.

Until laserbeak catches sight (and recording) of you, a little human, slotted between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker rutting into your tight valve, transfluid leaking from where you two connect. His hips wetly slapping into yours. Your stomach bulging from the large spike rearranging your insides.

And you struggling to take Sideswipe's spike in your intake while your digits toy with his valve. Drool and fluid leaking down your chin, tears sliding down your face as you struggle to breathe.

"Takin' our spikes like a champ, sweetspark."

"Such a greedy valve! Keeps suckin' me in like you want me to overload early-"

Soundwave is fast in disconnecting the line, shutting the video off and telling Laserbeak to get back to base prompto.

But that leaves the decepticons in silence.

What had they just seen? Cybertronians can interface with fleshies? What nonsense! That can't be right.

It starts off as disgust, but then they start talking and realizing this has been going on for ages.

"Those twins hate humans out of every autobot, so how did a fleshy manage?" Starscream speaks, venom dripping in his voice.

"Wait...wait remember when we attacked their base to get that energy switch, and we came across them, and Prowl nearly offlined Thundercracker?"

The room falls silent again.

Every instance comes flooding back to them, ones they would have never thought twice about are all starting to make sense. The autobots always became a bit more aggressive and protective when it came to defending you.

Even Optimus Prime himself nearly offlined Rumble for getting close to you, before picking you up and placing you with Bumblebee to get to safety.

"So...are all of them with one human or just those two?" Skywarp didn't even want to know, but of course if there is some weird romance thing going on, they could probably use that to their advantage.

Megatron sighs, looking to Soundwave "Tell Laserbeak to go back and pick up more evidence, as much as I hate to say that."

The larger bot sneers, loathing the idea of seeing more.

But Soundwave and Laserbeak do as told.

The minicon avoids the area he first saw you, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker, making an effort to thoroughly explore the other areas, making note that Prowl and Jazz seemingly take guard duty at night.

By the next day you and those twins seem to have went back inside the base, where Laserbeak couldn't reach.

"Sir, we might need to send someone to sneak inside their base."

Megatron glances at Soundwave, who doesn't look away from the screen. They both know getting inside that base will be dangerous, especially with how protective those bots are when you're involved.

"Let's hold off on that, since they seem to enjoy fragging outdoors, I'm certain we will get something else."

Soundwave nods, and continues watching as nothing interesting shows up on camera.

Starscream groans, rolling his optics not believing this is what they are up to anymore, just waiting to see some human all bare taking a spike much too big for them.

How patheic!

He could easily break your valve in, much better than those autobots!.....wait...NO! He shakes his helm, getting rid of any thoughts of you he's having.

Grumbling himself about your stupid attractiveness, you're just some stupid fleshy that's probably so soft compared to him, and no doubt your valve would struggle to take him.

But he keeps up a disgusted act, not wanting anyone to know what he's thinking.

However Thundercracker is silent, optics not leaving the screen, watching whatever Laserbeak catches on camera.

His expression looks bored, but he's freaking out inside.

He can't believe a human could actually handle interfacing with a Cybertronian, and you took two like a champ! You look so cute, pretty valve stretched so wide just to take Sunstreaker.

Greedy little thing.

He wants you, he wants to know what it's like, wants to leave here and live somewhere peacefully with you in some far off woods.

He's only here out of fear.

But he can't believe he's letting himself fall for a human he's barely met, but he can't stop his thoughts from trailing off to you, picturing you crying out begging him for more.

He wonders how your valve tastes, and if you'd like he bury his glossa in your heat.

Thundercracker is broken from his thoughts by Starscream screeching.

"Have they no shame!?"

Several optics look back at the screen, only to see you with Hot Rod.

The flashy bot clearly rushing off with you, giggling as you two go through the trees to get a peaceful spot away from base.

Faintly through Laserbeak's mic they can hear you.

"Oh, you don't know how much I missed you, little light!"

You giggle, finding all his kisses to be tickling you.

"I missed you too, Roddy. I hope your missions haven't been to exhausting." You kiss him in turn, smiling when he lets out a dopey chuckle.

"Nothing I can't manage, I just wanted to get back to you safe and sound."

"Something tells me that's not the only reason." You tease him, your poor lover gives you a pleading expression.

"I got all my work done? Missions were a success since the decepticons have been quiet, oh! And I got my reports done!"

He's shaking, nearly vibrating in place waiting for something.

But you let out a dramatic sigh, playfully shaking your head.

"I suppose since you've been such a good boy then."

You kick your pants off, tossing them to the side, before plopping yourself down on his servo, spreading your legs wide for him.

"A good boy deserves a reward, right?"

Hot Rod drools, muttering 'thank you's over and over again as he buries his glossa into your greedy hole.

Moaning with you, unable to help himself when you taste so good!

The decepticons all look at each other, then to Megatron, awaiting his orders but even he is baffled.

Just how many bots do you have after you? How many do you already have under your thumb? In the fights where he has gotten close to you, you reek of Optimus far too strongly.

So you're with him too.

Do you have the entire autobot base at your beck and call?

"Megatron, what are your orders."

Soundwave's voice shakes him if his thoughts.

"If we can get ahold of that human, we might have our answers, however I'm not even sure we can with how frag addicted those filthy autobots are."

"Seems the human is never alone either, which would make that even harder."

Just what have they gotten themselves into?

[simp4wom3n]

The Quiet One Pt.I

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request @perfectartisanwerewolf

Summary: Ghost face's dramatic return causes many to point the finger at 'the loner' of Woodsboro High, Y/n, a horror loving, lonesome girl who appears to have an obsession with ghost face's first victim, Tara. ~ Word Count: 5.272k ~ Warnings: descriptions of being stabbed and blood, a lot of swearing

A/N: Hi!! first Tara fic and omg I fkn LOVED writing this although it got looooooong which is why i'm making this is 2 (maybe 3) part series. Hopefully you guys enjoy the first part and want more because, maybe its just me, but writing about horror is incredibly enjoyable. I love you all and enjoy <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

"I dunno that y/n kid is weird. She seriously creeps me out." Amber spoke with a grimace, briefly glancing in your direction. Like every other day, you were sitting alone on your chosen bench, only a few metres away from the others, with nothing but the sound of your music playing softly through your headphones and the words of the book you had chosen to read accompanying you.

You used to try and be sociable, consistently putting yourself out there despite your introverted nature. You tried you really did. After many failed attempts and being met with nothing but resentment, you eventually just gave up, deciding that you were destined for solitude.

The only person who even acknowledged your existence these days was Tara Carpenter, the very girl you happened to have a massive crush on. Before you had shut yourself off from society, she was the one person who showed you any bit of kindness. You would often exchange small talk when walking between shared classes, or even on occasion try to sit with her at lunch, although that didn't last long - you learnt pretty quickly that her friends didn't enjoy your company.

Tara absolutely captivated you. It blew your mind that someone even looked at you without judgement, let alone have their eyes brighten at the sight of you. She was the one person who you felt safe around at school, the one person you knew wasn't just talking to you for a dare or some stupid prank. Perhaps that's why you fell for her as quickly as you did.

Whenever her eyes met yours, butterflies would erupt in your stomach and your heartbeat would increase tenfold. Whilst your time with her was very limited, every conversation you had, every laugh you shared, your feelings for the girl only grew.

Along with your cowardice, there was always something stopping you from telling Tara how you felt. Her 'best friend' Amber. You would have to be legally blind to not see that Amber hated you with her whole heart - you were clueless as to why though. Whenever you and Tara had been talking for 'too long', she would always swoop in and pull her away, leaving you once again alone.

It was one particular occasion that had changed you.

Pulling your headphones out of your bag on your way towards you bike, you were about to put them on before you heard a voice that instantly made your lips quirk into a smile. "Y/n hey wait up" Tara called after you, causing you to turn around and watch her run towards you. "Hi" you laughed as she finally reached you, slightly out of breath but with a warm smile nonetheless. "You seriously thought you could just go home for the holidays without saying goodbye?" she laughed in feign offence, causing you to chuckle awkwardly.

You hadn't necessarily been 'avoiding' her, you were just taking the easy route, knowing that if you kept talking to her, you were inevitably going to confess your feelings for her - something that you definitely wanted to avoid. She was the only friend you had. Sure, your heart longed for you two being more than friends, but to you, nothing was worth losing what you already had.

"Sorry..." you gave her a tight lipped smile as you fidgeted with your hands, all of a sudden feeling very awkward as your thoughts started getting the better of you. "No need to apologise" she smiled, "I just wanted to see you before you went home so... yeah... I'll see you next year I guess". She went to turn around and head back to her friends, but without realising it, before she could walk away, you had swiftly grabbed ahold of her arm.

Her questioning eyes met yours as she turned back towards you, your words caught in your throat as you try to comprehend what the fuck you were doing. "Sorry I... I just need to tell you something." 'Y/n stop it what the fuck are you doing', Your heart and your brain were at war with each other as you stared at Tara, who was patiently waiting for you to find your words.

"Ok... ok I'm just going to say it... Tara, I really, really li-" "Hey Tara! what the hell are you doing talking to this weirdo" Your face dropped as you caught a glimpse of who had interrupted you. Unsurprisingly, you watched as Amber walked past you and wrapped her arm around Tara shoulders.

You stood frozen. Your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you felt tears begin to well in your eyes. 'This cannot be fucking happening' is what was replaying in your mind as you turned away from the two girls, trying your best to hold back your cries. Tara remained silent, half annoyed at Amber for interrupting your conversation, but also confused as to what you were going to tell her.

She watched as you swiftly grabbed your things and unlocked your bike, obviously trying to get away from the situation as fast as you physically could. "Y/n wait-" she finally spoke before you cut her off, "See you next year Tara" she could hear a slight break in your voice as you hopped on your bike and quickly rode off.

You hadn't been the same since.

Ever since you returned for the new year, you had been avoiding Tara like the plague, knowing full well that if you talked to her she would ask you what you were going to say.

Your interactions diminished into short-lived glances. You were often so caught up in your own world that you wouldn't even notice Tara's presence anymore, despite her many attempts to interact with you. She was now left with only being able to watch you as you walk through the halls, and risk a quick glance to the back of the classroom where you now sat alone.

"Don't be mean, Tara seems to like her so she can't be that bad." Wes defends you, evidently having some sympathy. Amber looks back at him with eyebrows raised. "Yeah, and look where that got her." "Amber!" "Dude what the hell!". A myriad of complaints came from the group's mouthes at the comment. It had been less than a day since Tara had been attacked by the new ghost face, sending waves of fear throughout the small town and sparking the so-called blame game to erupt.

When the news of her attack broke, you felt numb. You blended further into the background as you did your best to ignore the news. You wanted to visit her, make sure she was ok, talk to her, but you knew that even if her friends weren't protecting her like hawks, you would never build up the courage to go.

"What?! Have you not seen the creepy stares she gives her? And from what I've heard, she's obsessed with horror movies... most likely including Stab" She wasn't wrong, you did love horror movies, it was even one of the things that bonded you and Tara together, but you were more into the classics, choosing to stay away from new franchises such as stab - not that they knew that because, well, why would they.

"She has a point" Chad answers after a moment of contemplation, earning him a slap on the arm from his girlfriend. "What?! I'm just saying it would make sense" he pauses as he looks around the group, everyone giving him either a neutral expression or nodding along. "She doesn't talk to anyone, instead she just watches them, she is nowhere to be found when anything happens, and I can guarantee you she doesn't have an alibi for when Tara was attacked... It make's total sense"

"Look, I just don't think we should point fingers just yet. Everyone is a suspect so we can't trust anyone" Wes argues, earning another glare from Amber who rolls her eyes and grunts, "Sure, but don't expect me to help you when she's slitting your throat", before walking off.

You lived alone, residing in a sad little trailer in a small trailer park on the outskirts of Woodsboro. Months ago, your parents had packed up all of their things and left to an undisclosed location, for an undisclosed amount of time, leaving you alone and without any income, struggling to stay afloat in an ocean of bills and debt. Despite this, you rather enjoyed your life alone and away from the busy-ish streets of the small town - not to mention that the eerie location added to your horror movie viewing experience.

The only thing that connected your little 'community' of four people to the centre of town, was your neighbour, Dewey. The oh-so famous ex-sheriff Dewey. As much as you admittedly hated the fact that people knew this place existed because of him, you truly did love the guy. He was like a father to you. To the best of his ability, he tried to fill in the massive void left in your life after your parent's disappearance.

He was basically the only person you actually talked to anymore.

Everyday after school, when you would ride your rusted bike down the secluded and winding streets that surrounded your home, your first stop was always his trailer. Most days he would be waiting expectedly on his doorstep, greeting you with a smile as you ranted to him about your day.

He even knew about Tara.

He was the only person holding you afloat, and for that, you would do absolutely anything for the man.

That being said, your bike screeched to a halt as you pulled into the trailer park, instantly noticing an unfamiliar car parked outside of his home. 'Odd' you thought to yourself as you hopped off your bike, letting it fall to the ground before taking small and almost hesitant steps towards his door.

As you reached Dewey's truck, you heard the door open as two strangers practically fell out of it. You immediately ducked behind the truck as the door slammed shut behind them, attempting to peer around the side of the vehicle to catch a glimpse of who they were.

"Jesus" the man starts, "Yeah, he's way more fun in the movies". Your brows furrowed at the statement. 'What the fuck is happening' was your immediate thought as you saw them head to their car. "Ok... So what's next?" "The friends". You stayed hidden as they hopped in their car and drove away, still incredibly confused about the whole situation.

No one ever came out here.

Waiting until the car disappeared down the road, you reappeared from behind the truck and began walking towards his door. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open and you were met with an obviously somewhat distressed Dewey. He looks at you, surprised before he sighs and moves past you, heading for his truck.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or are you just gonna leave?" you call out to him, noticing the gun holstered on his hip as his steps didn't even falter as he walked hurriedly to the driver-side door. "Hello?!". Again no response. Deciding to run after him, you quickly jump off of his small porch and bolt towards his truck, managing to grab ahold of his door handle before he could reach it.

"Really? so we are ignoring each other now" He looks far from amused as he looks at you, a hint of fear in his eyes, causing your gaze to soften. "What going on?". He stays silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell you. "It's about Tara." He starts, looking at you cautiously. "Her sister and her boyfriend came and asked for my help... with ghost face" "Ok... and your helping them? I thought you said you never wanted to go through that again" "Yeah well I don't, but I don't really have much of a choice" he finishes, pulling your hand off of the handle and opening the door.

You could see the mix of concern and fear in his eyes, whether it was for himself or for someone else you didn't know, but what you did know, was that if he was in danger, so were you - after all you basically depended on him.

"Well in that case... I'm coming with you" You stated firmly as you rounded the truck and quickly hopped into the passenger seat. "What! No you are not, get out and go back inside." "Not happening" you mumble as you fasten your seatbelt, choosing to ignore his words as you wait for him to start the car. "Y/n I swear to g-" "I said no!" You yelled, causing Dewey's eyes to widen slightly.

There was a moment of silence in the car when neither of you dared to speak. You sighed in relief when you finally heard him start the engine, fastening his own seatbelt. Just before he started backing out, he glanced at you, signalling that this was your last chance to get out.

You didn't budge.

As Dewey's truck groaned to a stop, you watched as Tara's sister and her boyfriend got out of their car and headed towards the door of a suburban home. You both stepped out of the truck before slamming the doors behind you, the noise of which caused their two heads to turn.

The sister looked at Dewey in a mix of confusion and relief as he spoke, "I have decided to temporarily assist you in your investigation". "Thank you" she replied, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face. Her eyes briefly shifted to you, stood behind Dewey as if he were a barricade, your face blank as you chewed on your lip in slight panic. She didn't question you though, she was just thankful that Dewey had offered to help, and if you were with him, she was all the more thankful.

As the four of you walked towards the door, you heard the boyfriend ask who you were, her reply being "I don't know". You understood their hesitation, I mean you were some random kid they had never met before who decided to tag along for a murder investigation so it wasn't necessarily 'normal'.

After the sister rang the door bell, you froze slightly as you watched Mindy answer the door. You suppose it was obvious that when Tara's sister said 'the friends' you should have caught on, but here you are looking like you had seen a ghost.

Sure, Mindy was always one of the nicer ones, or at least she had never openly threatened you or looked at you like you had committed some heinous crime, but that didn't make you any less terrified as to what was awaiting you inside the house you now knew belonged to the twins.

Hesitantly following the others, your head began to pound with the sound of your own heartbeat. As you entered the living room, you begged whatever was out there to let you disappear, turn into useless particles and drift away, because sat in front of you, was Tara's whole friend group.

The tension in the room sky-rocketed as all eyes landed on you. You felt like you were about to implode. Thankfully their resentful glares only lasted seconds before Tara's sister pulled their attention away from you, talking bout why she had brought everyone together.

Following Dewey, you reluctantly walked further into the room, slowly taking a seat next to him on the couch. With your hearing almost completely overcome by the sound of your own pounding heart, the words of Tara's sister, who you now know is called Sam, went in one ear and out the other.

You only blink back into reality when you hear Wes mention Dewey, "What about Deputy Dewey here? maybe he's the killer... no offence" "None taken, but what's my motive?" "You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife and crawled into a bottle. I think it's safe to say you're on the suspect list."

You don't think you had ever looked at someone so intensely, your eyes burning holes into his skull as he accused the only person you could ever trust. "That's bullshit" you couldn't help but call him out - sure his explanation made sense but it still pissed you off.

"Well what about you then". Your head whipped towards Amber's smug words, shock painting your features at her accusation. Your mouth hung open as she continued with a smirk. "I mean come on!" she laughs, "Your a horror fan right? So you love horror AND your a lonely freak who creepily stares at people for a hobby... Classic ghost face I'm telling you."

Speechless. You are absolutely speechless. Everyone's expected looks burn you as you attempt to find some kind of rebuttal, to say something. Anything. "I-I don't" "Where were you when Tara was attacked?" Amber interrupted.

You sucked in a harsh breath knowing you were home alone at the time, no one to back you up - not that anyone would've. "At home" you mumbled, Amber scoffing at you. "Alone I presume". You bit your tongue to stop yourself from cursing her out, eventually nodding hesitantly as your eyes began to burn with unshed tears.

"That's what I thought"

After the whole 'interrogation' process had left you on the verge of a breakdown, you had grown evermore attached to Dewey, following him around like a lost puppy. So, naturally, when the news of Wes' murder broke, you were right beside him as he approached the fresh crime scene.

It was safe to say that he was concerned about your insistence of sticking with him, that added pressure of keeping you safe weighing on him as he inevitably brought you into something that you should never have had to worry about.

You felt cowardly as you became Dewey's extra limb, following him around as if he was the only thing that could protect you - and the sad truth was that he was. You were his own personal fly on the wall, rather unfortunately overhearing his conversation that he had with Gale.

Your face was blank as you had remained zoned out ever since you had heard the details of Wes and his mother's murders, even the thought made you sick to your stomach. You didn't know much about ghost face and their history, but one thing was for sure.

This one was a fucking psycho.

You were broken from your gruesome thoughts when you heard rushed footsteps approach from behind you. Your eyes were quick to notice Sam's figure approaching, coming to a halt in front of Dewey and the deputy he was talking to, a panicked look covering her face.

"Who's at the hospital?"

Your heart sinks. Everyone’s eyes stare at the deputy, awaiting an answer that never came.

"Who's watching my sister?!"

Images of Tara being attacked whilst helpless and unprotected in her hospital bed flash through your mind, sending a paralysing shiver down your spine.

"I-I just heard about the sheriff" You hear Sam scoff in a mixture of disbelief and fear, turning around and running to her car. You muttered ‘Fuck’ before you quickly followed suit. For once Dewey was on your tail as you make a desperate dash towards Sam’s car, needing nothing more than to get there already.

You swing the car door open as you scramble into the back seat. Sam, still unsure as to who you are, gives you a puzzled glance before Dewey enters the passenger seat next to her. She just stares at him for a second, almost as if she’s in a daze, until Dewey snaps her out of it.

"What are you waiting for? Drive! Come on let's go!"

The drive to the hospital dragged on for what felt like hours. You had pushed Sam's call with ghost face back to a more-or-less distant thought, only tuning in when they mentioned Tara - the only thing you cared about.

The whole drive, you had been anxiously waiting on the edge of your seat, so as you finally parked outside the hospital, you rushed out the car door and ran towards the elevator.

Watching the floor levels tick by, the sound of Tara's whimpers echoing through the call filling your ears, you swallowed down your tears as you inhaled shakily, attempting to compose yourself for what you knew you were about to face.

As you approached Tara's floor, Dewey pulled his gun out of his holster and glanced back at you. "You ok kid?" he asked softly, his brows slightly creased as he noticed your seemingly panicked appearance. "I'm fine... let's just save Tara and get the hell out of here". Despite still being on the phone, Sam offered you a small, warm smile, clearly realising how much you must care for her sister.

"Or maybe I'm stalling for time, fuckhead"

The elevator dings and you watch as the doors begin to open. Through the growing crack you notice ghost face looming over Tara's helpless figure, your jaw immediately clenching at the sight. You flinch slightly as Dewey is quick to fire a shot at the masked figure. His aim clearly having deteriorated since he retired, he missed multiple shots as the figure dashed into a room for cover.

As ghost face disappeared into the room, you were quick to follow Dewey out of the elevator, immediately heading towards Tara. Just the sight of her tormented figure made you want to cry. Falling to the ground next to her, you were quick to cradle her head as you scanned her body for any new injuries.

Despite her bandaged hand having turned a bright shade of red, relief washed through you when you couldn't see any new wounds. If you thought the sound of her whimpers through a phone call was bad, this was utter torture. You attempted to compose yourself - although you would be lying if you said you weren't freaking the fuck out. Sam was quick to help Tara off the floor and towards the elevator as you comforted her the best you could.

"Tara... your ok... your ok come on" you whisper hurriedly, glancing over your shoulder to see Dewey helping Richie off the floor. You return your focus on getting Tara to the elevator, not noticing her glossy eyes looking at you dazed. "Y-Y/n... w-what are y-you d-doing here?" she brokenly asks, your eyes finally meeting hers.

You are unable to respond before you hear a large crash from behind you. The three of you quickly turn around, your face dropping in horror as you witness ghost face jumping towards Dewey. "Dewey no!" you scream as you let go of Tara and run towards him, the protests of the sisters falling on deaf ears.

Dewey's gun fires off a stray bullet as your hands grip onto ghost face's costume, successfully pulling them to the ground. You collapse next to the masked individual, only now realising you were completely unarmed and didn't really have a plan past this point.

'Oh fuck'

Your eyes widened in fear as ghost face jumps on top of you attempting to stab you in the chest as you push against them with all your strength. Dewey attempts to pull them off of you as you struggle to hold the approaching knife from impaling your chest. Not appreciating his attempts at heroics, Ghost face quickly elbowed Dewey in the face, causing him to collapse onto his back and his gun to fly out of his grip.

"No no no no" you whimper as the mask looks back at you, its rich black eyes staring through your soul. You wrestle in their grip as they wind their knife back before thrusting it into your torso. You scream as you feel your abdomen burn, the knife piercing your skin and lodging itself deep within your gut. Your shirt quickly turned a bright shade of red as the blood began to flow from your new wound.

You cry out in pain as the knife is viciously ripped out, your vision beginning to blur with tears as your body erupts in pain. You hear Tara screaming your name as the knife pierces your skin for a second time, your body simultaneously burning and freezing as you feel yourself slowly sinking into the floor.

And they keep stabbing you. Again, and again, and again.

Stab wounds litter your body as you continue to scream, each one becoming quieter as you quickly lose energy, the sound of blood gargling in the back of your throat now accompanying your helpless screams.

You could almost sense their smile from behind the mask. The anger behind each of their strokes increasing as they went to town on you, blood now beginning to slowly seep from the corner of your mouth.

Your energy was seeping from your body as fast as the blood that continued to pour from your eight stab wounds. You curl in on yourself as ghost face is finally tackled off of you, coughing violently as blood splatters into the pool of your own blood that had seeped across the floor.

You were barely conscious when you heard numerous shots ring out through the hallway, instantly waking you from your looming coma. Turning your head as far as you could in your dazed state, you saw Dewey rushing over to you with what appears to be an unconscious ghost face behind him.

"Y/n" he breathes, scanning your weak and bloodied figure. Sucking in a hesitant breath, he carefully picks you up, his hands already covered in your warm blood. You grunt in pain as you feel your wounds stretch and pull. Your head falls onto his shoulder, your entire body aching as he limps towards the elevator, passing a concerned Sam and Tara. Tara watches as your blood leaves a trail behind Dewey, already seeping through both of your clothes.

Even when on deaths door, the sound of Tara's sobs cause you to look in her direction, worry filling your glassy eyes. To your surprise she is already looking at you with a similar expression. You try your best to put a smile on your bloodied face, but at this point any kind of movement sends shocks of pain down your crippled frame.

You clench your eyes shut in pain as you feel Dewey put you down on the cold elevator floor- why was he putting you down?

"The head" he says as he stands back up. Fading in and out of consciousness, you struggle to comprehend what he is saying, looking at him through your drooping eyes. "What?", "You have to shoot'em in the head, or they always come back.". You watch as he slowly steps backwards out of the elevator. Your mouth falls open as it finally starts sinking in.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be fucking happening.

"Dewey! Who gives a fuck?!"

"I do"

"Dewey! No!" you let out a blood curdling scream, using all of your remaining energy to try and keep the door open, only for it to close in front of you. "No!" you screamed again, you voice shattering as you slam your fist continuously into the door. "No no Dewey come back! Come back please! I need you please!" you begged, knowing all eyes were on you but not caring how broken you looked.

"Please Dewey... please..." you cried, eventually collapsing of pure exhaustion, a metallic taste overtook your senses as your adrenaline finally ran out, the world around you turning black.

As the world falls in around you, you catch a glimpse of Tara's distraught expression watching you from behind Sam who attempts to keep you awake, inevitably failing.

Bright lights sting your tired eyes as you slowly blink away your exhaustion. 'What the fuck' is your first thought, your mind blank as to how you ended up in... a hospital? You try to sit up in an attempt to look around, stopped when you feel a sharp pain shoot through your torso, causing you to grimace.

You exhale shakily as you collapse back onto the bed. Hesitantly, you reach your shaking hand down to pull up your hospital gown, revealing what can only be described as 'a shit ton' of bandages. "What the..."

"No...", it hits you like a truck. "No... no no no, this can't be happening". The steady sound of your heart monitor starts to beep rapidly. You begin to panic as you breath erratically, trying to disconnect all the useless wires that were connected to you in an attempt to escape this all to realistic nightmare.

Apparently hearing your struggle, Sam walks into the room with a worried look on her face. "Hey! y/n calm down... calm down it's ok... it's ok." She rushes over to the bed and takes your hands in hers. You were a stuttering mess, your eyes unable to focus on anything in particular as you tried to wrestle out of the bed, her firm grip stopping you from going anywhere.

Eventually her gentle touch grounded you, her hands stroking yours gently as she looked at you sympathetically - a look you appreciated but knew couldn't be good. "Wheres Dewey?" Was the first thing that came out of your mouth once you had calmed down. You noticed how her posture slump slightly as her eyes fall to the ground - that can't be good.

"He's fine right? tell me he's ok... please" you brokenly begged her, tears rolling down your cheeks as you knuckles turned white from the strength in which you were gripping her hands. When she finally lifted her head back up, her eyes brimming with her own tears, a whole new wave of pain erupted through you.

"No no no no no!" you sobbed, Sam instantly pulling you into a tight embrace whilst remaining careful of your stitches. "He was all I had" you cried into her chest, her own heart breaking at your words.

She allowed you to cry into her chest as she gently stroked your hair. It had been a very long time since you had experienced such affection, not sharing a proper hug since before your parents had decided you were a lost cause. It was a feeling you missed.

Despite never wanting to leave her warm embrace, you eventually pulled back, wiping your nose as you sniffled away the remnants of your tears. You slumped back into your bed, feeling nothing but numbness overcome your body. Sam just sat there with you for a while, offering you whatever comfort she could whilst you let everything sink in.

You had nothing left. Absolutely nothing.

Just as that thought crossed your mind, you heard something approaching from the doorway, causing you to raise your head slowly, expecting a nurse or something to be coming to check on you. Instead, you watched as Richie rolled Tara in on a wheelchair, the injured girl flashing you a small smile.

If you hadn't been paralysed by your overbearing emotions you would've returned the gesture, instead your eyes looked back towards Sam whose lips similarly showed a small smile. "We're getting the fuck out of Woodsboro... wanna come?"

You looked back over towards Tara, her sweet features still offering you a warm smile. Your heart swelled as something inside you told you that it was her idea for you to accompany them. Your eyes welled with tears at the thought, finally offering her a wet smile, chuckling despite your tears as you nod enthusiastically.

"I would fucking love to"

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega

[vdazzle]

Hazbin hotel characters with a seraphim!reader

Synopsis: Reader is a Seraphim who appears to save the Hazbin cast when they are in danger.

Requested?: nope 😋

Notes: been thinking about this scenario all night leave me alone 🙏 also can be seen as platonic or romantic ‼️ might be ooc.

Angel Dust

🕸️💗 • On one faithful day, you decided Heaven was getting to be a bit boring for you, since nothing was happening.

🕸️💗 • You had recently figured out how to project yourself into different places such as earth and different places of heaven, so you began to wonder if you could project in hell.

🕸️💗 • Finally deciding to project yourself into a room of a hotel the princess of hell had been nagging Adam— or more accurately, anyone who would listen to support said hotel.

🕸️💗 • Angel had just gotten back from a looooooong day at work, and his mood was down in the dumps. Walking into his room, he was adamant to just get to bed.

🕸️💗 • Before his head could even get remotely close to his pillow, he saw you. You were playing with fat nuggets.

🕸️💗 • “What the FUCK.”

🕸️💗 • As soon as you saw him, you disappeared. He honestly thought he was going insane.

🕸️💗 • When you appear about a week later, he doesn’t trust you

🕸️💗 • First time you had to save him? Angel was in the studio, about to get fucking pummeled by Valentino for making him mad. For whatever reason, you decided to hang around in the less payed attention to areas of the studio.

🕸️💗 • You weren’t about to let Valentino beat up Angel, so you stepped in.

🕸️💗 • Go you!! You snapped one of Valentino’s arms off and shoved it down his throat.

🕸️💗 • The studio was in flames, and Angel was shocked. He thought you were just there to annoy him, not save his ass??

🕸️💗 • He only trusts you a little more than before. deal with it luv <33

“Thanks toots. M’ greatful for that, really.”

Husk

🐈‍⬛🥃 • You just showed up one day lol. He had a few suspicions of you, but overall didn’t really care that you showed up.

🐈‍⬛🥃 • As long as you don’t annoy him or try to kill the people of the hotel, he has no problem with you occasionally hanging out with him at the bar.

🐈‍⬛🥃 • You first had to save him during the scene where Alastor was threatening him.

🐈‍⬛🥃 • The only reason you saved him was because if Alastor killed the guy that kept you company, you would completely lonely and bored!

🐈‍⬛🥃 • When Husk saw Alastor get yanked back and fall on his ass, he was confused until he saw you standing there.

🐈‍⬛🥃 • After beating Alastor down a bit more, you helped Husk up to his feet. He was still a bit shocked, but otherwise he seemed fine.

“Thanks. I guess you aren’t too bad after all.”

Vaggie

🪽⚔️ • Vaggie knew you while she was a exterminator. When she was banished to hell, you decided to secretly visit her to make sure she was safe in hell.

🪽⚔️ • She really appreciates you checking in on her. Most angels wouldn’t risk their spot in paradise to check up on the fallen.

🪽⚔️ • The first time you had to save her was the first extermination she experienced after getting banished.

🪽⚔️ • An exterminator was about to kill Vaggie. She accepted her fate and got ready to die.

🪽⚔️ • That was NOT going to slide with you. Putting your hand on the exterminator’s shoulder, you told them you wanted to kill Vaggie to give justice to heaven or some stupid shit like that.

🪽⚔️ • The dumb mother fucker believed you, and backed off. Well, some part of it was believing you and the other part was fear that you would use your influence as a seraphim to get them banished.

🪽⚔️ • You asked Vaggie if she was ok, and got her somewhere safe. Somewhere no exterminator would even think of checking, the clock tower.

“I thought i was going to die. Thank you.”

—————♥—————

thank you for reading!! if you want a part two with other characters, lmk :3

[theewritingroomm]

A Friendly Favor - Part 6.1

Summary: Taking Robin's advice, you go to prom with Steve. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader (unrequited), Steve Harrington x Fem Reader WC: 3,086 Warnings: mentions of unrequited love, angst, swearing, kissing (like 1), Steve is down baaaaad A/N: *Surprise* it's long awaited and looooooong overdue but the final instalment(s) of A Friendly Favor is here. I decided to make two differnt endings because it was a hard decision on who reader would end up with. Sooooo with that being said Eddie's ending will be coming soon after edits and stuff.

18+ only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. MDNI

I do NOT consent to my work being translated or published onto third party sites - including AO3 and Wattpad. 

PREVIOUSLY ON ...

It took little convincing to get Steve to go to prom with you. Much to your surprise. Which is how you found yourself putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you waited for Steve to pick you up. You had told him that was not necessary, that you could meet him at the school. He had laughed at the suggestion, telling you that if he was going to be your date you were going to do it right. It had caused a small fluttering in your stomach to hear him refer to this arrangement as a date. It had shocked you at first but you quickly welcomed the feeling. Not remembering the last time that feeling had caused you to smile. In the recent month the fluttering in your stomach felt more like angry wasps than butterflies. 

When the doorbell rang that fluttering feeling reappeared and intensified as you exited your bedroom and walked towards the living room where you could see Steve standing with your parents. 

The soft clicking of heels alerted Steve to your presence. He abandoned the conversation he was engaged in with your father to turn and watch you walk down the stairs. The sight that graced him rocked Steve to his core. You were beautiful even on a bad day, but right now Steve was sure he had never seen anyone more gorgeous. You were dressed in a black gown that sparkled under the lights and made your skin glow. Your hair had been expertly pinned back with a few strands framing your features, the jeweled pins caught the light and Steve smiled to himself when he saw they were spiders. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, your eyes locked to Steve’s own wide brown eyes. 

Steve couldn’t remember a time when your eyes shined as bright as they did now. 

“You are gorgeous.” Steve said breathlessly, the way his eyes were raking over your form had a deep blush heating your cheeks. 

“Thank you Steve.” 

Before either of you could say anything else, your mother was ushering you into taking various photos with Steve. Who, try as he might, could not keep his eyes off of you. 

Music was already streaming out of the gym when you and Steve arrived. The beat that vibrated through the floor seemed to echo the nerves that drummed in your veins. Nearly rocketing your beating heart out of your chest. You wanted to turn around and run back to Steve’s car, wanted to tell him that you couldn’t do this. Though seeming to sense your spirling thoughts, Steve slipped his hand into yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

Steve’s hand was warm in yours. His thumb rubbing soothing circles across the back of your hand. Calming you, grounding you to the moment, to him. 

You looked from where your hands were connected to Steve’s face. Finding him already looking down at you with a soft smile and softer eyes. 

“You ready to have a blast?” the corners of his mouth ticked up with his question. 

Steve watched you square your shoulders and hold your head up high. 

“Let’s fucking do this.” you replied, a wide smile directed at the man beside you. 

He didn’t let you change your mind as he opened the door for you and followed you in. 

As you and Steve entered the gymnasium a few people looked your way and a few hurried whispers followed their gaze through the crowd. Steve tuned into the whispers that followed you through the crowd and it made him angry. To hear them speak of you in that manner, to hear the pity and sympathy directed towards him for being your date. Unbeknownst to any one, yourself included, Steve would cut off his left arm if it meant he didn’t have to leave your side; tonight … or any night for the foreseeable future.  

You could hear the whispers and feel their eyes on you. Of course you could, they were the same whispering glances that would follow you and Eddie down the halls. However, with Steve’s hand as a comforting weight in your own, the whispers did not seem sting the same way they had months ago. 

“Thank fuck,” Robin’s voice cutting through the music and slicing through the whispers following behind you like a shadow. “Thought you strangled him on the way and as much as I love ya Y/n, hiding a body would be hard in this dress.” 

Robin sent a friendly elbow into Steve’s side. Steve rolled his eyes at your mutual friend. He watched you do the same, as a wide smile stretching across your lips. 

“Came close,” you teased, giving Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But he’s not so bad.” 

Robin waved it off in faux annoyance, “yeah, yeah, Steve’s amazing. Let’s get you on the fucking dance floor!” 

Before you could protest Robin was grabbing your free hand and pulled you away from Steve. The man watched you follow your friend through the crowd until you and Robin settled into the crowd, getting lost in the music and the company of a good friend.

Steve watched you from the edge of the dancefloor, trying to convince himself it was for your benefit. That he wanted to make sure you were okay and had a quick out if you wanted it. However, the longer he watched; watched you smile at Robin, watched you get lost in the music, watched you become more carefree. The longer Steve watched you, the more his heart wished to join you, the more his fingers itched to touch you, the more he wanted to see if your lips were as soft as they looked. 

Eddie, like the rest of the gymnasium, had watched as you and Steve walked through the door. He noticed the way your hands were intertwined together, he noticed the matching cheesy grins plastered on your faces. He noticed how Steve’s eyes drank you in when you were not looking. He noticed when you did it back. That, watching you and Steve, caused something angry and hot to burrow into his stomach. 

When the emotions washed over Eddie, he did what he did best and pushed it down. He shoved and pushed those emotions down until he could shove them in a box and push them away to the deepest corners of his soul. Where he had shoved the remnants of his friendship with you.  

As the night went on Eddie could feel the chips and cracks breaking away at his defenses.

 “I’ve gotta get some air,” you informed your friends over the music. “Gonna step outside.” 

“Want me to go with you?” Steve asked, you shook your head and smiled at him. 

“Just gonna be gone a second.” 

Steve nodded in return. Watching you walk away and out the door. Only looking away when the door fell closed behind you. 

Outside the gymnasium the night air was crisp and cold. The moon cast a silvery hue over the parking lot causing long shadows to dance over the concrete. The wind carried the smell of stale cigarettes and weed through the night air. You practically fell into the metal bench a few feet from the door, allowing the chilly night air to cool your heated skin. You began to get lost in the silence of the night, thinking about the events of your life from the last few months. Though the silence was interrupted with the groan of the heavy gymnasium door opening and the echoing click of it closing. 

You remained looking out towards the parking lot as footsteps echoed on the concrete. As the person drew closer you dropped her head, looking at the long crack that stretched across the ground. A pair of beat up Reeboks stopping in your field of view as the night was plunged into silence once again. 

“Can I join you?” Trepidation wavered in Eddie’s voice, though you noticed a hard edge there as well. 

Glancing up at the man in front of you, you motioned for the empty space next to you. Eddie plopped himself down into the space but said nothing. The silence stretched between you, eating away at your resolve. Soon hundreds of thoughts were swirling around in your head, each fighting for the chance at the forefront. Though one persistent thought won out above that rest. 

“What do you want, Eddie?” voicing the one thought into the night air you finally turned your full attention to the man beside you. 

Eddie was staring back at you. His own head swirling with unsaid thoughts and unanswered questions. Eddie opened his mouth to begin to say something but quickly closed his mouth when he couldn’t get his thoughts to make sense. 

“Why Steve?” was what decided to tumble out of Eddie’s mouth. 

“What does it matter Eddie?” You rebutted. 

Because what did it matter to Eddie who took you to prom? He had his own girlfriend, one who was likely inside waiting for him. So why did he care so much about you showing up with Steve? Eddie kept telling himself that it was because you hadn’t known Steve as long. He kept telling himself that Steve was still King Steve and would inevitably hurt you. He kept telling himself he was worried about you and your feelings. Though the more Eddie tried to convince himself, he only knew he was lying to himself. 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Is what Eddie settled on telling you. 

At the sound of your dry laugh, Eddie knew it was the wrong thing to say. 

“That’s fucking rich Munson.” You bit out, standing from the bench. The sudden urge to be as far away from Eddie Munson taking over. Though you did not get far. As you began to take a few steps back towards the gym door, long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Stopping you abruptly in your tracks. 

You cut your gaze to Eddie, putting as much fire behind your eyes as you could. You ripped your arm from his grasp, a tight “don’t touch me” hissed from behind clenched teeth. In an attempt to not rip the boy's head off you closed your eyes and sucked in a lungful of air through your nose. It was a futile attempt as months of repressed emotions bubbled to the surface like a boiling kettle. 

“I just want to look out for my best friend. I miss her.” 

Anger. White hot, blinding anger filled you. Settling deep in your stomach and spreading like wildfire in your veins. 

“Your best friend,” you laughed harshly, nearly spitting the words back into his face. “It’s been weeks, Eddie. I laid it all out on the line, bore my heart to you and you ignored it. You ignored me. For weeks. A-and, fuck, Eddie! It really fucking hurt.” 

The fire in you died as you finally let the sadness and hurt seep into your bones. The man in front of you was silent, letting your words wash over him but also wanting to give you a chance to continue. Knowing that once you started it was hard to get your brain to stop moving a hundred miles an hour. 

“A-and I had almost gotten used to it. Almost come to terms with the fact that you weren’t in my life anymore. But n-now you’re standing here saying you miss me. And it’s pulling me in a million different directions and it’s breaking me Eddie. I loved you for so long, not just romantically, and to just lose that in a blink sucked.” 

A soft sob escaped your lips at the end of your confession. It broke Eddie’s heart to hear, but there was only one word that worked at his heart like a sledgehammer. Loved. Past tense. 

“Loved,” Eddie whispered, “past tense?” 

You stared wide eyed at him. Tears begin to pool at your lashes. “That’s the only fucking thing you heard? Un-fucking-believeable.” 

Eddie struggled to find the words. Sure he resembled a gasping fish as he tried to find the words. When he floundered Eddie dropped his gaze to the ground. Finally a whispered “I think I love you” fell past his pink lips. 

Weeks ago you would have killed to hear those words. Now. They turned the air around you acidic and heavy. They turned your blood hot.

“You are a piece of fucking work Munson.” Your hand came up to poke Eddie in the chest, hard. Not dissimilar to how you used to when he was stuck in that head of his. Except now, it didn’t hold the same caring weight it used to. Now it felt like a stab to the chest, digging deep into his heart and bleeding him dry. He’d gladly take on another hoard of demobats, certain it would be less painful. 

“I’m sor-” he began to apologize. 

“No, I need you to listen,” you interrupted him as the first few hot tears rolled down your cheeks. “You don’t get to do that Eddie. You don’t get to ignore me and my feelings for weeks, you don’t get to break me down and worry about how I choose to put myself back together. You don’t get to ride off into the sunset with your fucking girlfriend, leave me in the dirt and come back when I don’t follow blindly. I wanted so badly to be your first choice but I’m not going to wait around to be your second choice if you and Chrissy don’t work out.”

You wiped at the hot tears tracking down your cheeks. There was so much more you had to say. But the groaning of the gym door stopped you. Grabbing both yours and Eddie’s attention as a mop of chocolate brown hair appeared in the crack of the door. 

“Y/N, I just came to che-,” the words died on Steve’s tongue when he saw the tears streaking your face. In two long strides Steve had placed himself in between you and Eddie, big hands coming up to frame your face. Gentle fingers wiping away your tears as Steve spoke again. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Can you take me home? I’m tired.” The words whispered into the night were all it took for Steve to link his hand in yours and pull you out into the parking lot towards his car. 

The drive back to your house was silent except for the low hum of the radio and the occasional shuddering breath from you as your tears began to slow. Steve’s hand was still intertwined with yours as Steve drove through the quiet streets of Hawkins. As his car rolled to a stop at the red light on Main Street Steve raised your hand that was laced in his and placed a tender kiss to your knuckles. 

“If you want to talk about what happened I’ll listen, if you want to ignore it then we’ll do that for now. But I'm not going to let you get trapped in you head over it.” Steve said gently, when you stayed quiet Steve turned his head to look at you. 

You had your head leaned against the window, eyes trained out the window to watch the small town pass by. The only indication that you had heard him was the small squeeze you gave his hand. 

In the six months after prom there was a distinct shift in your friendship with Steve, though you were both hesitant to label it what it was. A relationship. 

For months when you would go to clock in for your shift at Family Video there would be flowers and post-it notes from Steve with sweet words scribed on the page waiting in your locker. In return you would leave various baked goods stacked in his locker with his lunch, a heart always decorating the wrapping. During your shifts there would be lingering glances passed between the two of you from across the store and soft brushes of fingertips against flesh when he walked past. Steve had become your personal chauffeur simply so he could have an excuse to lace his hand in yours across the car and listen to you sing along to the radio. Friday and Saturday nights were now spent on Steve’s couch with a stack of movies from Family Video and a pile of junk food. 

Which is where you currently sat, in Steve’s living room curled up on his couch with The Evil Dead playing on the screen. Though you were not were not paying much attention to the movie. Rather you were staring at the man who sat on the other end of the couch. Staring at his features; the way his nose crinkles when something gory happens on screen, the way the light reflects off his eyes drawing you into their whiskey gaze, the way he bites at his bottom lip during the jump scares. It had your mind reeling with the thought of what it would feel like to have those lips pressed against yours and what sounds he would make if you bit at that bottom lip of his yourself. 

“I can hear the high pitch whine of you thinking from here,” Steve’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. He turned that whiskey gaze towards you and you could see the emotions swirling around behind them and immediately wanted to hide from them. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Steve reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. Waiting with bated breath for you to answer him. 

Hesitantly you scooted closer to Steve, your knee bumping against his as you settled. Your eyes were downcast, hiding from Steve’s graze because you knew he would be able to read you in a second. It was only when gentle fingers found their way under your chin that you looked back into his amber eyes. And you went for it. 

Softly, you slotted your lips against his tasting the cherry cola that stained his lips. Gently, you worked your mouth against Steve’s, savoring the way he was gently cradling your face in his hands. The kiss only lasted a few seconds before you were pulling away. 

“I’m sorry, I um… I sh-” you stumbled over your words. 

Steve silenced your stuttering with another quick kiss to your lips and his own whispered confession. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you for years, just needed to let you catch up first sweetheart.”

Tags: @wolfstarsimpxx, @jaceblack, @gloryekaterina, @intoanothermind, @vxmpfreak, @girlsvvish, @ogoc-19, @sunflowerabyss, @athenxt, @aurumbelis, @whisperingsarah, @tlclick73, @k-1-ll-em-alll, @lokiofasgard616, @rach5ive, @sidthedollface2, @its-quinns-breadd, @tayhar811, @captainonaboat, @ajkamins, @goldstars-to-all, @harrys-tittie, @phantomxoxo, @adaydreamaway08, @angelina16torres-blog, @coryisagee, @foreveranexpatsposts, @skulzombiw, @sadbitchfangirl, @lelenikki, @mmvnsons, @sinczir, @cherrytree69, @parmawiolets, @disrespectfully-ira,

[damneddamsy]

renegade | aemond targaryen x oc (part vii)

a/n: cutest dragon claiming ever istg, toothless and hiccup dynamics. a looooooong sexy chapter because I have no self-control

When dawn broke over Dragonstone, there came a time for mourning. Princess Rhaenyra's red ire upon hearing the news from the Red Keep brought forth her premature labours, a strained one at that. She had anticipated the stillborn through her screams and struggles, grieving before the birth of her second daughter, who was to be named Visenya. As the Black Queen stood over the funeral pyre, she pledged to the flames that this larceny shall be answered for in blood.

Her only daughter, Princess Aemma's arrival proved most significant among the Blacks. Her brothers welcomed her back with open arms, indifferent to her gloom. Even Jace believed that his once insouciant sister had discovered her husband and dear friend, Prince Aemond's, vile motives through adversity. Even as the Concilliator's golden crown came to rest upon Queen Rhaenyra's head, even as her daughter bent the knee, the bereft mother was aware of the black heartbreak the princess came carrying, seceding from the traitor's nest to affiliate with her blood and kin.

After an advantageous gathering of the Black Council, Aemma harboured Rhaenyra's silent suffering, holding her mother close to her as she relieved her outcries into her shoulders. Aemma mourned with her, for the loss of her little sister, for her indefinite adventures, for whatever the inklings of a fabled future Aemond had painted for her.

When silence descended between the mother and daughter, Rhaenyra settled in bringing Aemma to her chest and stroking her arm. She glimpsed at the hushed tears that rolled down her daughter's cheeks, her chest constricting at the sight. She could tell why, she couldn't partake in any queries when the reason was unmistakable. Her lovesick daughter longed to be reunited with her other half, fiercer than when they were friends.

Rhaenyra couldn't bring herself to bear hostility toward Aemond—her son-by-law had essentially salvaged her daughter by sending her away from him. No matter her allegiance, Aemma's life would've been in constant peril by her husband's side. For that overthink from Aemond's behest, she was grateful. But, it did not overshadow his disloyalties.

The queen littered kisses around the princess' crown. "I know I can count on you. But, on what is to come—I want your standing on my council."

Aemma smiled with quite an effort. "I couldn't."

"You are shrewd, Em. I require a little novelty at my table."

"Do not treat me as your heir." She pulled away from her mother to glare at her. "I have had enough of you wheedling me into it."

"You must understand—"

"I will not. Declare Jace as your successor and honour your vow to me. He is male, your first son, more willing to rule than I ever will be. I am not him or you. I am not so flawless."

"My sweet girl," Rhaenyra sighed. "I am anything but."

"I am simply not suited for such regency."

Moreover, Aemma could never hope to rival her dear friend without the assurance that he had truly turned against her. And if that day ever came, her fragmenting mind would split into a thousand pieces. Deep down, she knew Aemond's actions were driven by his desire to protect her, so harbouring any ill feelings toward him proved futile.

"No one is ever suited," Rhaenyra said sourly. "You are born with it. The Iron Throne is your birthright."

Aemma sensed her vision blur. "Then please relieve me of it, mother. You promised me."

"Such are the circumstances, Em. Once the war is over and I have taken what is mine, I will make sure that you are free to do as you please," her mother agreed with her. "But until then, you will carry the title of my heir."

Aemma considered this, swiping at her nose. "You would pit my brother against me in doing so."

Rhaenyra recovered with a smile. "Jace would lay down his life if you asked it."

"And I am to simply take your word for it? Like the last time?"

Her mother's violet gaze narrowed. "The word of your queen, to whom you bent the knee."

Aemma would merely be an auxiliary in this castle. Just another puppet at the queen's behest. She strode out the door in a temper, slamming into a smirking Daemon before making off into her chambers.

Aching for some relief, Aemma instinctively searched the little chest by her writing table where she had stored Aemond's old letters. She sat on her bed, wistfully reading them, one by one, and realizing how oblivious she had been to the unmistakable. Each word to her was affectionate, deep-rooted in a love that never seemed to sway. It was then that she realized what a mistake it was to simply leave Aemond behind without putting up a fight.

A mere two years ago, he had written to her: My love, Aemma. Recently, I have read about the late Good Queen Alysanne, and I imagine you bear semblance to her; both in beauty and aspirations. Her command at court, the love she shared with King Jaehaerys. Her peaceful but invincible steed, Silverwing, resides on Dragonstone. I envision it every night, you and I, on our dragonbacks, side by side. I long to see you again, have you, hold you. Make it real for me. Yours, Aemond.

My beloved, Aemma, he penned in another letter. Shall I fly to you tonight?

My darling, Aemma. I wish for the day we free ourselves of these burdens and leave the world behind.

My Aemma. You are all my hope.

Aemma held the little scrolls to her chest, staring unseeingly. How had this escaped her? Had she been so blind to Aemond's budding love all these years? So focused on hearing his tales, that she had not read between the lines? It was never a spurred decision on his part or one born from jealousy. He had longed to make her his from the beginning.

Despite Aemma's growing yearnings, she sat awake in front of the mirror, brushing her trimmed hair with overt care. Long for distraction, she recalled the day she had tried to claim Vermithor, how the gulf of dragon fire from the beast's gullet had rained down from the lair, how Daemon's armoured body had shielded her from a charred death, how she swore to herself that she had had enough of dragon power.

"There is no defeat except in no longer trying," Daemon had said to her reflection in the mirror when the handmaidens sadly snipped away at her once-luminous, long hair.

Aemma's hand fisted against the brush, the words echoing in her mind. She lacked in a lot in comparison to her other Targaryen kin; crowns, power, dragons; but not a conviction. She would rather lose all her hair twice over than abandon hope. If there was one thing that would grant her sufficient power before her mother or the realm, it was dragons.

Make it real for me, Aemond had written. And that was more than flesh and blood could stand.

X

Call it harebrained or temperament of self-destruction, Aemma grappled a blazing torch from her corridor and lurked down to the Dragonmont, where she was certain that more riderless dragons were being sheltered. Seasmoke, her dear father's dragon, was among them. It was long after the hour of the wolf, nobody would be awake to stop her. Except—

"Sister?" A surprised call emerged from behind a pillar. Decked in his riding vestments, Jacaerys had come down to see his dragon, Vermax, possibly to relieve his tension.

Aemma held her nervous stutter and faced her brother down. "I'm going to claim Seasmoke. You can try and stop me."

With that, she walked past him without a second glance but came into shock when Jace caught her forearm. His jaw hardened as he took in the determination in her eyes.

"If I don't come with you, Father's ghost will haunt me for the rest of my days," he weakly jested. When she tried to deny him, he smirked and seized the torch from her.

"You can try and stop me," he quoted her.

Hence, the siblings embarked on a descent into the hellacious caverns of the Dragonmont. Jace held his sister's hand like a rock, leading her down the meagre stairways and eventually onto sturdy gravel.

Their boots crunched as they progressed through a hot, dark passage, illuminated by the embers from their torch. Jace chuckled when he noticed the rash slits on Aemma's skirts that now hung in tatters at her knees then the tight knot of hair over her head.

"'Tis not an absurd look on you. I've seen worse," Jace teased.

She shoved him playfully. "If Aemond were here, he would've appreciated the effort."

Her heart clenched a little when she spoke of him, an old pain that persisted from years ago. Jace said nothing but rolled his eyes.

"You should be on that throne after our mother, Jace," Aemma said, suddenly weary. "You are more befitted to rule than me."

"That is a lie," he reassured. "I can think of no abler ruler; so compassionate, peaceful, loved by all. Although I would row on your selection of king consort."

She managed a grin. "Perhaps Baela would make a fine queen. She's fierce."

"I do not dissent." He smiled back at her, warmed. "When you are the law, who dares question your authority?"

A nearby bellowing growl—or a snore?—alerted them. Neither Jace nor Aemma had any idea of what dragon waited for them in the lair that lay beyond. Luck was on their side, as they witnessed a dozing Seasmoke, begin to blink awake at the bright glares. The young dragon's silver-grey scales which resembled her late father's hair dazzled in the darkness. He was as handsome and fierce as his late rider.

Jace quickly informed her of the tethers on her thorax and straightforward Valyrian words of command, such painstaking instructions to his impetuous sister. So distinct from Daemon's nonchalance before facing off with Vermithor: "Power and patience, sweetling. Go and do me proud."

Aemma gritted her jaw and steeled herself. She would rather go with Daemon's command; to simply trust in her blood and approach in confidence. How much ever she tried to quell her fears, once the dragon began to sniff at her, her hands began to shake. Her mind blanked, and her perseverance dwindled. She turned aside slightly.

"Say 'lykirī', sister! 'Dohaerās', 'rȳbās', 'lykirī'!" Jace hissed to her in a reminder.

Seasmoke snapped his beady gaze to her brother, wavering on its hind legs, and then back at Aemma when she raised her palm and commanded in her strongest voice—"Lykirī, Seasmoke. Lykirī."

The distempered dragon unhinged its powerful jaws, a tongue of flame ready to breathe forth on her. Aemma willed her feet in place, brazened out the beast and began to shout, more in alarm than valour. This had to work, it had to.

"Dohaerās, Seasmoke! Rȳbās! Lykirī, please!"

It was past oversight once more when her brother leapt at her with his cloak, putting his body before hers and hauling her to the ground. A noxious heat bowered by them, the rage and sound of a firestorm, but they narrowly escaped the lick of fire while they crawled out of the recess. The disappointment deferred as Jace urged her to her feet and rushed her onward.

"Go, Aemma. Run," he ordered.

Their path had gone dark as they had abandoned their torch at Seasmoke's lair. Blind on their trail to safety, they knocked into each other, the bumpy stones, held onto dear life and sprinted ahead. Once they made it to a clearing on the far side of Dragonmont, annularly illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, the siblings tumbled to their knees to catch their breath. They were swathed in plumes of smoke and soot, and scrapes on their knees, but nothing else mattered.

Jace fell about into wild laughter. "Insanity, Em. Gods, have I missed such fun with you!"

His laughs faded when he noticed Aemma with her head in her hands and her shoulders quivering with muffled weeps. Her devastation was evident—all the grief, rejection, lovelorn—and all he could offer her was his bare solace whilst she aired her grievances.

Jace gently put his arm around her as she bawled it out, like her very nerves were tearing asunder. It was mortifying to see Aemma break like this, no one truly had bore witness to her sorrow. She rarely ever did so in front of their parents or alone.

"Mother merely sees me as a pawn. My only friend forsakes me," she sniffled before another sob ripped out. "Now father, too. What have I done to deserve this, Jace?"

When Jace attempted to affirm her, a startling rumble stilled any movements. He risked a glance over his shoulder and something stirred in the darkness. Beyond a doubt, the tapered symmetry of a nimble, enormous beast emerged from within a hollow beyond. Its growling thrummed the very rocks around them until he realized that the dragon's leathern wing was straddled on their farthest side, still half-shrouded in shadow.

"Aemma," Jace murmured to get her attention. Alas, his good sister was lost to her woes.

He read between the lines as he weaved his gaze between the calmly vigilant dragon and his sister. It was ridiculous to even entertain the thought of leaving her defenceless, but he was inclined to believe the possibility of... a dragon claiming a rider. Who was he to question the magic of Old Valyria? Jace could only take an unwilling step away, keeping his eyes steady between his sister and the sharp-eyed beast. Not just any beast.

Once under the moon's rays, the she-dragon, Silverwing, rose in her lasting glories. Formerly the docile mount of the Good Queen Alysanne, the pale silvery-blue dragon unwound her neck, rattling the ground with her faint bellows, snaking herself closer toward Aemma's balled-up figure on the ground. There was a hesitance to the dragon, never seen before, going further than her curiosity allowed. She took one sniff and let out another faint rumble.

Jace watched on, disbelieving, as Silverwing nudged her snout against Aemma's back. Her growl pealed like a peaceful purr, seeking out Aemma's affection or perhaps even showing her comfort.

Aemma hardly shifted, preoccupied with troubles of her own.

Unrelenting, Silverwing repeated this twice, more intent to win a reaction now. It was obvious that the dragon had already bowed to the likes of Aemma and her desperation.

Finally, Aemma lifted her head and glimpsed over her shoulder, her lips parting at the sight of the massive beast. When familiarity flickered into her head, she looked at her brother with tears in her eyes, disoriented.

Jace encouraged her with a nod.

Wiping her face with her dirtied sleeves, Aemma pushed to her feet and misstepped when an intense pang needled into her head. Silverwing, perceptive of her ungainly movement, offered up her snout as balance and carefully stood her rider upright.

"Sliverwing," Aemma spoke, her voice a shaky rasp. Her fingers ran across the glistening cobalt scales, feeling her heat and strength. She glimpsed at the dragon's glinting orange eyes.

The she-dragon let out another undragonlike purr.

Aemma was riveted by her unique friend, who stared at her in wonder. Silverwing's arched horns resembled her mother's mount, Syrax, fashioning an elegant crown of spikes around her great head. She inclined her windborne body to the ground as if making her obeisance to Aemma.

"Kirimvose, gevie riña," she whispered to her dragon, laughing to herself. (Thank you, beautiful girl.)

Such was the peculiarity of dragons, no one could understand their ancient minds. Jace immediately ushered Aemma toward Silverwing's timeworn saddle and she began to climb up, finally mounting her steed. When Silverwing roared and flapped her strong wings, Aemma appeared before her brother as the incarnation of the Good Queen Alysanne herself, with her wild hair and radiant grin. It was no wonder the beast was so quick to take her under its wing.

"I'll find Vermax and follow you out," Jace shouted to her, raring to go. He had dreamed of the day he would fly side-by-side with his dear sister.

That gloaming morning, all of Dragonstone awoke to the sight of Princess Aemma emerging out of the mountain as a proud dragonrider and cementing her name in history as a trueborn heir of the House Targaryen.

X

Across Blackwater Bay, the information of Princess Aemma laying claim to Silverwing had arrived in King's Landing on a sour note. This would be a dire consequence to the Greens, outnumbered in dragons against their own mere three adult dragons, even if one of them was the queen of dragons. Eight to exceed their three.

King Aegon headed the High Council meeting with the dowager queen and his grandsire, the Hand. Ser Criston ranged behind the King's seat, mum to his treasons. And Prince Aemond, most dutiful to the throne, was seated by the King's side. Absently, he stroked the marital scar on his palm, a prisoner to his wandering mind.

"The Blackwoods continue to fly Rhaenyra's banners in the Riverlands. Further aid must be assured to the Brackens who have bent the knee to our king," Ser Otto devised in utmost composure.

"The Brackens and Blackwoods have been at each other's throats for centuries," Aemond mentioned passively. "Our focus should be to withdraw all backing to the princess."

Aegon interfered with a scoff, leaning back into his chair. He glanced at his pensive brother.

"Are we to ignore this endless litany of my bitch niece's claim to one of the largest dragons in Westeros?"

Aemond bit on his cheek, amused. Between blood rights and bravery, his Aemma had chosen the most sleepy and stately dragon as her mount. If he knew her at all, she would never fly that new friend of hers to a damned war.

It was Otto who spoke instead. "The princess surely lacks the skill, Your Grace. Silverwing is meek, yet to experience battle... unlike Vhagar."

"So you would send Aemond to snuff his wife from the skies?" Aegon seemed to draw pleasure from this. "I am quite inured to savagery and this compels me to consider."

A formidable silence fell over the room. Aemond eventually looked up from his hands and met Aegon's eyes, seething. To even spare this sordid idea made Aemond's flesh crawl. He would rather lay on a bed of nails rather than meet Aemma on opposite sides of a battlefield.

At the sight of his brother's sinister ire, Aegon doubled back.

"For the good of the realm, brother. Now what of our allies in the Reach?"

The doors to the council chambers opened and in came a gold cloak, bearing a scroll in his palm. "There's been a raven from Dragonstone, addressed to the prince."

Aemond's heart pulsed an uneven rhythm. All the eyes around the table watched him toughen and receive the letter.

"Time for the prince to kiss some traitor cunny," Aegon mused, taunting.

Only the glad tidings came especially to Prince Aemond in the princess's handwriting. He did not need to speak aloud for the members of the small council to grasp what laid within that letter. The moment his drifting eye gripped the words on the page, he hailed a hurried exit from the small council, thoughtless of his mother's refusals.

"You would risk your life and that of Vhagar's?" Alicent needled, hot on his heels through the Red Keep. "If you go to her now, Rhaenyra will be forced to assume your intent to bring the battle to her and make her reprisal."

Deaf to his mother's heeds, Aemond was halfway through twisting on his riding gloves, preparing himself to ride to and ascend on Vhagar. He was already overdue, she waited for him.

"Love renders you unsighted, you fool," Alicent warned.

Aemond's smirked at his mother. "Then I have been blind since I was a boy, mother."

Thus did Prince Aemond soar into the night airglow, Vhagar roaring out into the vast sea. He couldn't help the ardent smile that almost split his face as he urged his dragon forward, faster.

My dearest Aemond, a bygone dream has finally borne fruit. Silverwing has accepted me with good graces, and she is simply magnificent. I've made it real for you now. Will you come to me? Yours, Aemma.

X

In the watchtower overlooking Blackwater Bay, no guard had sighted Vhagar's black wings under the clouded eclipse of twilight. Yet her shadow swept across the posterior end of the island, landing on the coasts of black sand where the ocean raged on. Come what may, Aemond decided. If his half-sister's wrath bore the flames of his death, he would first see his dearest wife's dream fulfilled.

As if lying in wait for his arrival, Silverwing's call pealed out in trills, like a hymn rather than a roar, making herself known to her audience, thundering the night sky. Ser Otto was asinine to think Aemma lacked the knowledge—the lithesome agility she always carried was finally being played upon her skills in dragon-riding. Aemond swelled with pride at the sight of his wife, a gifted rider, swooping and parading for him.

Silverwing circled the coast once before her huge wings battered the air, to land far away from a growling Vhagar. Aemond lurched forward, halting only to notice Moondancer, Baela Targaryen's dragon, circling nearby. Keeping watch with her rider. So, he had been permitted to slip by unseen.

Scarcely had Silverwing grazed the sand then Aemma gracefully coasted off her back. She had traded her pretty skirts for black-and-red dragon-riding attire, bearing the red three-headed dragon sigil of their house. With his one good eye, he noticed that mischievous smile was not yet lost, and so was the delicate tenderness in her doe eyes.

She remained a good distance away, her sweet dulcet voice carried in the wind. "What have you come as, my prince? A delegate of the usurper?"

Aemond bared a slight smile at her, his restless hand gripping his dagger. None of those words held any significance in her mouth. Vhagar roared again behind him, sharing his fervour.

"A husband, I hope," she continued to wonder.

"My highest honour, princess," he agreed. "Even so, you would rather make me wait to hold my wife and celebrate her."

Her joy wilted to a sullen grimace. "A small penance."

He concealed all the misery that overwhelmed him. He hummed. "Hmm. On what charges?"

"Forfeiting me to my family when you swore," she emphasized, "that you would never part us. No matter the odds."

"You expect me to sustain my only light in this bleak world, within that shitpit where you were nearly slain in your sleep, well nigh after my discretion." Shock rattled into Aemma's eyes. "I will not gainsay that which you claim. But I would do it all the more if it means to have you alive before me."

Aemma looked at the waves, her eyes turning to glass with the onset of sorrow. Once she gained control over her expression, Aemond was robbed of his breath when she glanced back at him. He ached to touch her.

Behind her, Silverwing whistled another rumble when she asked, "Have you truly renounced my hand then? Has the dowager queen declared it so?"

"I won't amuse that farce with an answer," Aemond affirmed hotly. "We are bound together by blood. Cast me far away, Aemma, and I will still resist and crawl back to you while there's still air in my lungs and a beating heart."

A heartened smile arose on her lips. She hid it in the guise of scratching the scar near her eye. "Sweet talker," he almost heard her. Or perhaps an expletive.

Aemond frantically tugged off his gloves with his teeth and pocketed them, sighing aloud. "My love, this is living death. Have I been absolved yet or do you revel in my misery?"

"Both," she teased.

Aemma laughed as she swiftly strode forward, her cape snapping and kicking up sand. When she leapt up to swallow him in a generous embrace, Aemond shut off everything else, nestled her close, and pushed his face into her neck, inhaling her deeply: smoke and leather, just a lingering hint of lavender. He spun her about once before setting her down, drawing a soft squeal from her. Her sweet laugh resounded in his ear.

He smoothed hurried kisses wherever he could; her neck, jaw, cheek; and lips, exploring the world between them softly. It was endearing how she tried to imitate him with uncertainty, cupping his face and threading his silver tendril between her fingertips. He let a smile spread on his lips whilst a soft moan slipped out, bowing her into him, noticing how each finger of his pressed into each portion of her spine. He traced the suppleness of her throat, the sweet dimple over her lips, he could map ancient seas and lands on the divots of her scarring. This was his own little coming home.

She pulled away too soon, then laid her head against his neck to find the pace of her breathing. Aemond sketched soothing circles at the small of her back with a sharp eye on Silverwing, who was intently watching their exchange. Such an incredible girl taming a queen's steed.

"Is she not the most breathtaking creature?" Aemma asked him, looking at her dragon half in wonder and half in pride. "She came to me, showed me solace. Like you did."

"Has your new friend transcended me?"

She kissed his jaw. "Never."

Aemond trailed by her side and watched as she softly stroked at the blue dragon's enormous snout, laying her forehead against her scales. He admired how she forged bonds with all her steeds this way, with Seasmoke the direwolf and that horse, as if she were giving regard to what she would receive.

Silverwing gave off another leonine purr, gently bumping her head against Aemma submissively. Aemond could tell that this was going to be another animate doll of his wife's. Perhaps she'd train this one, too, to play fetch.

"Jaelan ao naejot rhaenagon ñuha valzȳrys," she said, her Valyrian tongue irresistibly smooth, and patted her dragon once. (I would like you to meet my husband.)

Aemond beamed at this. Aemma called him forward, took his cautious hand and rested it upon the heated scales of the she-dragon. As if thoroughly understanding what her rider had said, Silverwing patiently received his touch. He braved out her auburn-eyed stare.

"Jaqiarzus hae se dāria ao iderēptan," he praised under his breath. (Glorious as the queen you chose.)

Aemond did not really care if Aemma had heard him. Turned out, she was too fascinated by the bond between her husband and her dragon. Aemma knowingly darted between them, deliberating to herself.

She palmed Aemond's cheek and whispered, "Fly with me, my friend."

He shook up with laughter, a quiet, lighthearted sound that surprised the both of them.

"Six long years have I waited to hear those words," he said.

With one more kiss, Aemond and Aemma mounted their dragons and took to the air, going against the tide. They flew together, and their dragons danced, not in a battle for ranks, but as sworn friends in their springtime of life, immersed in their own world.

X

After having been apart from each other for nigh on two days, and flying their dragons to their heart's content, Aemond refused to let go of Aemma once the night started to unwind frigid winds their way. They withdrew from Dragonstone, and she followed him to Sharp Point where a thin strip of grassy beach was left untouched by the townspeople, a space of peace of quiet amidst the brewing tempest in both their homes.

Paying no heed to the openness, there in the shroud of the tall grass, completely persuaded by desire, Aemond gently urged Aemma closer, divested his thick coat to lay it on the ground as a rug, and held out his hand. She went all too willingly.

It was vulgar, of course. She was a princess; moreover, she had pledged him her virtue, but he couldn't help his fixations. His yearning has taken root in the neediest part of him. Neither did he have the heart to vent her absence to a nameless whore in a brothel. Why bother with the horses when he had a dragon to ride?

Aemond unlaced her bodice painstakingly and caressed the silhouette of her body, her skin warm against his palm. Her woodsy eyes met his, composed.

"I don't care. I want you, too," she comforted him. Then she reached to unfasten his breeches.

The air turned electric amidst the gathering gale—with her eyes fixed on him, she stroked the length of him under her, his hardness, and a shudder falling out of his lips. At her own pace, she hitched her leg up, sitting astride him while undoing her own hosieries. He ran his knuckles down her jaw and pushed his fingers into her hair, sharing another fond glimpse. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how lonely his mornings were without her laughter, how often he had frequented her chambers just to get a whiff of her presence.

She traced the skin of his scar, gradually slipping a finger through the fastening string and tugging it off. Then she smiled at him, "This is the face I love. My love."

That could've been his ultimate undoing. On the brink of losing himself, she had offered up her everything.

"My love," he echoed, breathy.

Aemma sunk down on him, stretching herself to the limit, her face straining. Aemond grunted, unfaltering to the sweet friction, and watched her get her fill of him and begin to ride him to the floor. He was simply there to catch her as she fell, and fell, and fell... blurring the lines between him and her. Quite physically branding each other for good. The noises she made into his ear were melodies, and her name was a whispered chant from his lips.

She brought his head to her chest, cradling it there. Everything around him was her—her scent, her heartbeat, her warmth. He let his tongue taste her sweetness, skin and sweat before sinking his teeth down, covetous to claim. She laughed, as if tickled by this, laying her nose against the top of his head, her pace getting prompter.

When he felt her go rigid around him, she plunged back on him, and his fingers clawed at her hips, tipping her over until she was on the cusp of falling apart. He lifted her chin from gauging their progress, meeting his hot stare. Her dark eyes clouded with lust, so fantastic to watch, as she blew to kingdom come. That sheer sight of her was enough to let himself go, but through the heady daze, he bore in mind the liabilities. Softly, he pulled her off him and released his spend into his breeches. He shut his eyes, letting the waves of pleasure wash over him, breathing hard.

Aemma wasted no time in settling back over him, all surfeited by sex, and pouring her silent, appreciative kisses into his tousled hair. He laughed, rubbing at her bare thighs, nipping kisses at her neck.

She opened her palm for him, and his eye patch was nestled there.

"Perhaps one day, I'll wear it for you," she jested, winking.

He playfully poked her waist and she giggled. He slid the eyepatch back on, shifting it into place. "So replete with wisecracks when it comes to my eye."

They lay there together on the bed of smoothed grass, with Aemma's head slackened off his shoulder, twisting little braids into his long hair, and Aemond's arm slumped behind his head, lost to remembering the exact planes and dips of her face with his fingers. Too many long years he had gone without seeing her.

The breeze whooshed around them, unable to humble them, the blood of the dragon was running hotter than usual.

"We should've left and never looked back," Aemond breathed out.

She watched him, her cheek pressing into the grass. "It's too late now."

"No," he said, shaking his head. He brought both her braiding hands to his lips for a kiss. "The east lies at our feet and our dragons lie in wait. We have nothing to lose, dearest. Only each other. This isn't our battle."

"Yet something stops you from leaving," she remarked quietly.

Your whore mother and her clan of bastards, he wanted to say. Your bastard brother still roving about, unavenged. The Iron Throne and the unbidden power to the Targaryen who wield it. It was bizarre to even think these thoughts in her presence.

And all this time, Aemma studied the turning cogs in his mind and his evident discontent. She attempted to bring him back to her by touching his cheek and faced commotion in his lone eye.

"You have strengthened to a warrior. A terrific sword. A spirited rider," she said. "Deep inside, you desire a good fight. Your intuitions cannot be helped."

He gritted his teeth. "You kindly withhold the bare truth: I am conditioned to blood thirst."

"You have an old score to settle," she murmured, unearthing his elusive motive. "With my brother. With your brother. This is an open path to their reckoning."

Aemond stared at her. The world stilled for a beat; it was a foregone conclusion. How could she still lay her eyes on him after learning of his intentions? Where was the hatred he had pictured in his agonies?

"Aemond, my love." Her voice got along his skin like a silken caress. He dreaded to endure her next words.

"I cannot atone for Lucerys' mistakes. But I can appeal to your humanity." Having anticipated this, Aemond's jaw clenched tight. "We were reckless children, callow to the coming times. Hotter blood conquered that night."

"And he remains an unpunished child," he differed.

"Once your debt is paid, you've won Luke's eye, then what?"

"Then he is acquitted and I am much obliged."

She frowned at him, unconvinced. "What of esteem and civility? Or would you prefer to be feared by the realm?"

"Better to be feared than scorned."

"Even by me?"

He pressed his lips tightly, his face tensing. He didn't have to say anything, she understood. A calm wroth simmered behind his lonely eye.

Aemma watched him for a beat, absorbing his words, and Aemond unshiftingly persisted. She witnessed a little boy mocked all his life; for his losses, his scars, his audacity; seeking his worth. The grimness in his stiff lips, the endurance in his words—this was the face of a stewing, dauntless man, lost to his vengeance. His scathing words struck her deeper when she realized his due reward was still unclaimed.

She shivered when he stroked a thumb across her bottom lip, his lone eye softening to fondness. "I know your insight of this now will harrow what we share. I have always known, I looked the other way. If you wish to never see me again—"

This jostled her world. She shook her head in defiance, holding his cheek in place. His face had twisted to reluctance once again. He didn't want it either, such a short distance had already left them helpless.

"I have had enough of broken vows," Aemma insisted. "I intend to keep mine to you, rooted, regardless. Let's not have the chances sour our time now."

He let a gratified smile spread out, leaning forward to catch her lips in a heated kiss, rolling her over, all urgent touches and knocking teeth. She didn't fight it, merely let it happen and allowed him to vent his gall. He gushed all his affirmations into her, his love, his fears, his hopes, and the significant one being that if he were to lose her, he would lose himself.

"Stay here with me tonight, please," he whispered into her neck.

She laughed when she heard his plea, disbelieving. "Are you to stand guard through the cold night?"

He let her go for a moment to skim the coat from under him and shroud it around her shoulders. The material drowned her stunted stature and he settled her back in his impenetrable hold. She muffled another laugh into his open-shirted chest, stroking her nose against him.

"Warm enough for you, my little dragon-rider?"

"Not that I care, but such is your spousal duty," she hummed, still playful on the hour.

He clicked his tongue. "I ought to fling you to the ocean floor. That should teach you."

"I ought to employ Silverwing's fire," she threatened.

"Spare my heart," he laughed quietly. "I'd be burning for you twice over."

And so Aemond maintained a vigil, inspecting Aemma as she slumbered soundly not soon after. He oh-so-softly touched her plump lips, the aquiline slope of her nose, her eyebrows, and the scar that dashed through one. Maddening how she continued to rest, unaware of the soul she refused to return to him.

His single eye flicked to something moving amidst the leafy plains beyond Aemma's shoulder. With one hand grasping Aemma tight, he edged a guarded hand to the dagger stowed above his breeches.

A viper, as black as the night, slithered across the golden sand. It wreathed a pattern toward Aemma's spine, hissing out a rattling tongue.

In a split second, his dagger was airborne and impaled the viper to the floor, gone in a painless death.

He had offered it his mercy, affixing his aim right into its eye.

X

[hyukalyptus]

hi hp!! did you know that orgasms could help reduce the feeling of menstrual cramps? 🤓

who among txt do you think would be most likely to… support you this way when you tell them you’re cramping :(

(totally not dealing with cramps right now nope 🤡)

- 🐳

hi!! omg im sorry its been a few days since u sent this in, hopefully ur feeling ok!

but omg! i wrote something about this on my old blog before it got permanently flagged. lemme see if i can find it~

ok..it was LONG long, so i cut it down~ shout out to @peachanonie for the thought in my inbox the first place :}

cw. periods, period sex, cunnilingus on period, period blood, everything about periods, sex toys, penetration (protection not mentioned), pet names (baby), TMI about my personal preferences lmfao.

peach: BEOMGYU!! i think he’d be a bit into bloodplay…. like the idea of it at least. but poor baby wouldn’t like the idea of hurting u like that so he’d never actually indulge cus it’s scary to him :( but! when he reads online somewhere that orgasms can be really good for periods… baby boy gets so curious

keeps reading and finds out ppl get extra sensitive when on their period too and he gets so 😳

at that point it’s just a matter of brining it up to u cus he’s a little shy when it comes to this stuff. tried to gently suggest it next time ur on ur period by hinting at it a bunch “did you know orgasms have a lot of benefits while on your period?” side eyeing you to see ur reaction LMAO he’s so cute.

but ofc ur not dumb and u see exactly what he’s doing… how cute he’d look while u tease him and make him feel small under u while u press kisses to his jaw and sweetly whisper how much you’d love to be pleasured by him if he wants to

as soon as he gets the okay, he’s practically jumping on you. starting at ur boobs and showing them LOTTTTSSSSS of love cus he knows how sensitive ur nipples get on ur period 🤭 wants to hear ur pretty noises so so bad so he doesn’t let up til he can’t take the excitement of eating u out ok ur period any longer.

makes sure everything is clean and prepared for a mess lol and then he GOES TO TOWNNNN. like i think as soon as he sees ur pretty pussy dripping with a mixture of period blood and arousal, he’d be fuckin floored and would dive straight for your clit (knowing it’ll pull the loudest moan out of u). and as soon as he actually TASTES you? instantly humping the bed. i think he’d cum in his pants quite quickly too 😭 poor baby just thinks u taste too good :( it’d turn him on so much. and with how hard you clench around his tongue, mixed with the taste of u in this state, i think he’d even maybe cum twice…… cus i know he’d be going at it for a looooooong time. just wanting to make u feel good and ease ur stress during this painful week :(

and when he finally lets up, he looks up at u with pretty little doe eyes, asking if u feel better and your heart just SWELLS at the sight of him. chin covered in ur release n blood, so so pretty for u….

already has a damp towel ready on the bedside table to clean u both up. and don’t expect him to fuck u after. no no no. all he wants is for you to gently stroke his cock while you lovingly make out, laying facing each other, til he whimpers into ur mouth that he’s cumming. pls pls PLS cuddle him to sleep, he wants to fall asleep with his head in ur chest :( and don’t even think abt getting dressed LOL u can wear underwear if u want cus ur on ur period but he will NOT allow you to get too hot in the night and ruin ur much needed sleep during such a stressful week for u! (it’s totally not because he wants to have a faceful of ur soft bare breasts to fall asleep to)

waking up the next morning to see a sleepy gyu with bed head and pajama pants laying out plates of pancakes for you both is honestly the best part.

service bf beomgyu is my weakness 😔

-🍑

me: ...peach. peach. PEACH. im in shambles. literally trying to think of anything to add lmao. but...this is soooo beomgyu.

i can totally see y'all sittin on the couch together and he's just scrollin thru his phone and ur just kinda groaning and he asks u what's up. you tell him ur on ur period and cramps are esp bad that day.

and he's like "...i read orgasms can kinda help w that..." and tries being as nonchalant as he can, but u catch on lmao. AND MAYBE! bc i see beomgyu's partner being a lil cheeky—you decide to tease him urself.

"oh ya? i think i heard that somewhere too..." nd u giggle just a bit, hopping off the couch, takin out ur tampon/cup lol, and returning w a lil vibrator. u bend over, ass toward him, slippin off ur pj shorts and he's just o.O then u plop back down, legs spread, spreadin ur lips a bit nd he sees u all wet and a bit bloody...speechless. u wanna tease urself, wanting his tongue to be the first thing that touches ur clit to get that "first touch" moan you know what i mean so u just switch it on, the sound of it alone makin u wet. and u kinda just rub it around your pussy for a bit, but he can't take his eyes off u.

"awe, jealous of my vibrator, baby?" and he just swallows and stutters a bit before he takes over and does everytHING

but i definitely need to write hcs for all of them!!!!!!!!! AAAAHHHH kicking nd squealing bc—my thing (TMI ALERT!!!) with period sex is i like penetration on my period. and i love seeing the bottom of my booty just barely covered in blood afterward. it literally makes me hnnggg. so just thinkin about yj takin someone from behind on their period, booty a lil bit red AH crying ><

[downbaddetective]

Soooo... uh, this happened. The Cat King seems to have possessed me momentarily so as to wax poetics about his favorite ghost? This is also without much editing, so I'm sorry if it's kinda bad. All mistakes are my own, and so are all of my commas that you can try and pry from my cold, dead hands. (Please be nice, I haven't written anything but essays for the world to see in a looooooong time. The Howl's Moving Castle AU will probably benefit from me practicing a little before diving headfirst into it, so...) This can be read in any way you'd like, but I see this as pre-relationship Catwin.

Edwin had been at it for hours, staring into the void of... something. Something there in the middle distance that Thomas desperately wishes was him in moments only known to himself. Longing to be at the center focus of that gaze. Stupidly gorgeous, intelligent eyes that would without hesitation cut him down if the urge struck.

Thomas regrets the gift now. The stupid coin ('drachma', a familiar voice sounded in his mind. Even when in the same room, he still plagues his thoughts, unbelievable!). The coin has been worn smooth with handling, and age wasn't doing the damned thing any favors. But, oh, it was mesmerizing to watch quick fingers passing it amongst themselves. Edwin's hands were always busy, not unlike his own, so it only seemed natural to offer tribute to the force of nature that was and is Edwin Payne.

The coin itself wasn't anything of any significance; in fact, Edwin would probably be able to say more about it now with its smoothed over faces than Thomas would have had the day he obtained it. But significance has been bestowed upon the soft metal simply by making contact with just about the only deity that Thomas would pray to in this day and age, time only having made him jaded and guarded since the last time he dared.

"Thomas?" And no, he takes it back, green eyes sear through him once more, and he remembers why he shies away every time. And the name, gods that name, his name, in the possession of the first in his long, long life that he hoped would choose to keep him. The facade slips back into place quickly, but before he could respond, the ghost is already continuing, "Heads or tails?"

"Oh, talk dirty to me, kitten."

Edwin raises one unimpressed brow but merely asks once more, "Head or tails?"

The coin is still being woven between his fingers, but now the Cat King of Port Townsend has had his prayers answered, Edwin Payne's unwavering focus entirely trained on him. And he had meant it all those moons ago when he had told the detective that want and pleasure and punishment were not mutually exclusive. This right here had to be punishment, to want something, someone, so badly and yet have to look away or risk being blinded.

"Don't know what I'm playing for, sweetheart. You know I don't work like that."

Edwin's face shifted ever so slightly, just enough that Thomas could see the hellfire burning deep down within him, that thing that saved him, that got him out of hell the first time, alone. And, for a brief moment, Thomas took the time to pray again, this time to anyone listening that, for once, Thomas would be allowed to keep Edwin right back.

"Heads..." and in a movement too quick for even the cat in him to catch, the coin is flicked up in the air at an impressive height and is caught by Edwin's palm flat to the desk in front of him. "Or tails, Thomas? Or do you distrust me that much?"

It truly is pathetic how that gets his heart racing.

"You should know me by now, kitten."

"Tails then, is it?"

One slight nod of the head was sufficient enough for him, apparently, because Edwin's hand began to lift off... of nothing. He could feel his face contort in confusion before he could school his features. And looking back up to the ghost's face, he saw what he could only describe as childlike glee in place of the fire that had been there earlier.

"You think you're clever, don't you?"

" I happen to know I'm clever. I don't see how that has any relevance right now."

"Okay, so now what, hmm? Are you going to pull it out from behind my ear now?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You would know if it was behind your ear."

Would he, though? Edwin took up all of his senses when he was around so Edwin could drop a house on him, and he probably wouldn't notice (probably). But he looked at Thomas expectantly. Even through the playfulness, a challenge has been issued, a puzzle to be solved. 'Find it.' his eyes told him.

And so he closed his eyes. He had used magic that much was obvious, but Edwin was still novice on pockets and travel that didn't involve mirrors, so it couldn't have gone very far. And... no. No, that was too easy, probably a diversion to make him look foolish. But still, he could taste the faint ozone on his tongue.

Thomas stood and leaned over the desk, bracing himself with the arm that wasn't reaching for, arguably, the bigger trickster of the two. For his part, Edwin was keeping eye contact, his face not betraying him one bit. And Thomas is so very grateful to have witnessed this kitten learn that he has claws.

And the only thing Thomas, The Cat King of Port Townsend could do in this moment was once again pray to any and every deity listening that Edwin would want to keep him and that he would be able to keep him right back.

Edwin's eyes flutter closed momentarily when the heat of Thomas' hand passed close by the side of his face. He was right, though. There's a little bit of buzzing energy right behind his ear. He grabs the coin out of the pocket that Edwin had created, out from behind his ear.

He offered up the coin once more as tribute to this beautiful creature in front of him. Edwin took it carefully from his hand with a faint grin on his face.

[dayseedrawz2]

Hahaha uhmm idk what to do so here's a self-indulgent Uh I mean practice fic while I mentally prepare for chapter 4 based on that One post I made a while back.

This is all cannon to Ring-Misstress AU btw

Uhhh enjoy!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Bedtime story" - (A Ring-Misstress fanfic fanfic)

Pomni found herself walking towards her room, not just alone, but with a child holding her hand. But it was all by choice (mostly). She and Caine now had a mission to raise this small AI. She herself was surprised just how motherly she could be.

[So, I get to sleep in the big bed with you??]

♧Just untill Caine and I can design your own bed. Here, go ahead and look around!♧

The Ring-Misstress opened up the door with her face on it.

This was Voz's first time in his new mother's room. Well- his first time in the circus at all! His first day existing! The moment he stepped in to look around, something immediately caught his eye.

Up on a small desk beside the bed stood a small plushie. A chubby yellow and green alligator with a cowboy hat. Sitting on the edge of the desk with its arms and legs stretched straight out in front of him.

Voz had to jump but successfully obtained the plush from its spot. Pomni noticed him and chuckeld.

♧I see you've met my friend Gummigoo.♧

[Is that his name??]

♧Yup. Named him after an old friend of mine. I got him as a gift! My most prized possession!♧

[Really?? Woah...]

Voz looked up at Pomni and back down at the Gummigoo in his hands. Pomni pulled out a replica of Caine's WackyWatch.

♧Welp, let's get you and Gummi to bed. Caine says you gotta recharge.♧

She picked him up, still with the plush in his hands. As she tucked him in, his little artificial mind couldn't help but stay curious.

[Mama, you said he's named after an old friend. Who??]

♧Yesh, it's quite a long story... you sure??♧

Pomni teased, knowing this was most likely a lure to get him to stay up longer.

[Yes yes yes please tell me everything!!]

Voz squealed with excitement, wanting nothing more but to learn about his mother and the world around him.

♧Alright, alright, I guess a little bedtime story wouldn't hurt. Well, it all started the second day I joined the circus...♧

*Insert Pomni's POV from episode 2 (you already know what happened) ok back to the story*

[Papa did WHAT!?]

He squezzed Gummigoo as right as he could.

♧Mhmm.♧

Pomni nodded. It was a whole lot for Voz to take in. "But... if that happened the day after Pomni and Caine met, then... how are they still friends??"

[So... you weren't mad at him..?]

♧Oh no, I was really mad At him for a LOOOOOOONG time. Untill one day...♧

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Caine stood in midair, confused why the Jester was so blind by rage.

☆Pomni... I- I don't understand... he was just some old NPC of mine! Why are you so... upset-☆

♧OF COURSE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND YOU HEARTLESS PEACE OF SH-♧

The Ringmaster crossed his arms with an exaggerated expression on his face. Still oblivous to the issue at hand.

☆Hey, hey! There's no need for such language!May I remind you that The Amazing Digital Circus has a very strict family-friendly Policy-☆

♧I DON'T CARE ABOUT SOME STUPID @#! POLICY!! YOU'RE A SORRY EXCUSE FOR A RINGMASTER! YOU DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE TO SNAP HIM OUT OF EXISTENCE!! I JUST WANTED TO HELP HIM AND NOW HE'S- ...he's...♧

Pomni suddenly stopped. Small sniffles escaped her as she stormed off to who knows where.

A few hours passed, and there was no sign of Pomni. Caine had asked all the other performers for any information, but they either didn't know or didn't care to help him.

He was digitally heartbroken. He somberly floated around the circus tents interior. Pomni would probably never look him in the face ever again. He just wanted to get to know his new performer. He genuinely didn't know what he had done wrong. If he could just try to find her and talk things out...

Then, he heard what sounded like Pomni sobbing in the distance.

☆Well, that's oddly convenient.☆

He followed the sound and turned the corner to see that it was, in fact, Pomni. She sat on the floor with her knees to her chest and her head buried in her hands to cry. He called for her, but she didn't answer and stayed in the same position.

The ringmaster let out a defeated sigh as he descended to the ground to sit beside her.

☆Hey...☆

He scooted a little closer, so he was heard. This was probably the quietest Pomni had ever heard him.

☆I know I probably haven't been doing my best, but-☆

☆I just want you to know that I'm trying.☆

☆I really am.☆

☆and I'm sorry if I've screwed it all up.☆

☆I am so, very sorry, my dear...☆

He thought about the argument they had. That NPC really did make her happy. More than he ever could. But he took it away from her. He's supposed to make his members happy, and he took away the ONE thing that brought her joy. She was right... What a sorry excuse of a Ringmaster...

At this point, he, too, was on the brink of tears.

Pomni finally looked up. She saw that he really was being genuine. But still salty, she got up and faced away from him, crossing her arms.

Caine also got up. He began to speak again, trying to be a bit less quiet.

☆Oh... I see... B-but I still wanna make it up to you! I... I realized how much your NPC friend made you happy. And I really wanted to keep it that way. I was really hoping we could... start over. So... I made this!☆

He snapped his fingers, and Pomni's hands spawned a little plush replica of her gummy gator friend. She slowly turned to look at Caine again. He was looking down, fidgeting with his hands. He quickly stopped once he realized that she was looking at him.

Pomni looked back at the plush, then back up at Caine. Her eyes were watering, and her mouth began to quiver. Caine's expression of worry returned, and he began fidgeting again.

☆O-oh... oh my you- you're crying again... I wasn't sure if this would help, but it looks like I have my answer. ...I suppose I'll see myself out now-☆

Pomni leaped towards Caine and wrapped her arms around him. For a moment, Caine froze. This was the first time someone had hugged him willingly, so though unexpected, he still returned it.

♧Thank you Caine. You're still kind of an awful ringmaster, but I forgive you...♧

☆Does this mean we can start over..?☆

Pomni nodded. Even though made out of teeth, you could still make out a huge smile on Caine's face. She couldn't help but giggle at his attempts to keep his cool.

♧Heheh, let ME be the ringmaster for a day why don't ya?♧

She joked through her now happy tears. Caine caught on and laughed along with her.

☆Ha! You'd probably do a better job than me!☆

♧Pfft, no kidding!♧

The pair laughed together for the rest of the evening.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

♧And that's how me and Caine became friends! And how i git one of my favorite gifts! I thought you're father just wanted to hurt us but turns out... he's actually... really sweet. Uh- So... what do you-♧

Pomni was brought back to the present moment, smiling down at Voz who was fast asleep, hugging the Gummigoo plush.

Perhaps there was more than one prized possession Caine had given her...

[cyberphuck]

ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PART ONE My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy, but they don’t want to actually have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them (and you)! When we last left Fitzy-Fitz, it was a really fucking long time ago, sorry, I stopped going to church and learned to chainsmoke (and this book is LONG, I mean it’s LOOOOOOONG, so I kept avoiding getting started on Abridging it, lmao). You can brush up on the frankly insane amount of different characters here at the Royal Assassin Cast of Characters post, or find the links to the rest of the Farseer Trilogy Abridged series here at this link here.

- Fitz awakens one fine October morning in a bed at Jhaampe hospital, where he's been recovering from being poisoned and poisoned and bludgeoned and kicked and drowned. At first he was having eighty seizures a day, but now that it's down to only twenty-five seizures a day, he and Burrich figure it's high time for the two of them to skedaddle before they get snowed in.

  Then, exactly like that scene in Attack on Titan where Eren reaches for a spoon and accidentally turns into a Titan, Fitz drops a spoon and accidentally turns into a seizure. It's a lot less cool. He wakes up hours later back in the same damn hospital bed with Jonqui the King's Sister and now healer sitting beside him.

  "This sucks," he whines.

  "Time heals all wounds, Pull-Out Fail," Jonqui says sagely.

  "Shut the fuck up. I'm fifteen and obviously know a lot more than you about healing, and I've decided I'm never going to get better."

  Burrich strides healthily into the room with a swanky new skunk stripe in his hair where his skull was recently cracked open. "What-ho, Lil Accident, are you ready to go back to Buckkeep?"

  "No. Everybody's gonna make fun of me. You go back without me."

  "So long as you wear that collar," Burrich says solemnly, "I must follow you."

  Fitz touches the black collar with the word DADDY on it in gold letters. "The way you followed my father?"

  "Yes."

  "Was it like, a sex thing?"

  Burrich, who has enough hidden piercings to set off a metal detector at twenty paces, asks, "Are we going back to Buckkeep or what? I'm getting kind of bored sitting here watching you do the Harlem Shake."

  "Also, I heard that Molly's candle shop was foreclosed on and she had to go live with relatives in a town that's about to be raided by Vikings," The Fool says from under the bed.

  "Gosh, I wish I could talk to King Shrewd or the Fool or find out what's happening to Molly," Fitz sighs, then sits up as the room fills with the wavy lines and harp glissando of a dream sequence.

  "Wake up, King Shrewd," the Fool says. He's sitting on a chair, not under the bed or in a hay bale for once, and Fitz finds it extremely disturbing.

  "Fool? What are you doing here?"

  "Oh, King Shrewd and not Fitz, I have to be here because you're sick and old," the Fool fools. "Here, let me fluff your pillows and feed you soup."

  "This is so weird," Shrewd-Fitz says. "I feel like... oh, the Skill line is ringing. What? Vikings are viking Siltbay so late in the fall?"

  "You know, it's creepy when you talk to yourself like that," the Fool mutters.

  But Shitz (Shrewd-Fitz) is already on a Skill video call, watching the Red-Ship Raiders pulling up onto the coast. Vikings run through the town, viking everything in sight. The raiders are wading through blood up to their knees, people are running around headless and on fire, it's awful. The raiders aren't even stealing anything-- they're just wrecking stuff, which anyone who's been to a Raiders game can attest to (go Cowboys).

  "Fool," Shitz says. "You can see the future, right?"

  "This is a weird time to reveal that particular nugget of information, but sure. Let's see... ah, yes. I see a bard who can't fucking read the room trying to find a rhyme for 'dismembered child.' That is not something Jaydee made up, it's a real line from the book."

  "Thank you, Fool, that's extremely fucked up," Shitz says. "Oh wait, who's this on the video call... It's Molly! Oh SHIT, it's Molly and Vikings are going to vike her!"

  But Molly wasn't called Molly Nosebleed as a kid because she's a trembling little violet. A Viking tries to vike her and she stabs him to death, whirls around and shouts "WHO WANTS SOME, MOTHERFUCKERS?!"

  Then a house falls on her.

  "Oh god, oh fuck," Shitz says, panicking. "Fool, use your future vision and tell me if Molly's okay!"

  "A bunch of women died in a bunch of horrible ways," the Fool says. "Do you want me to list them?"

  "No," Shitz says, and so the Fool doesn't spend two pages describing the graphic sexual assault, murder, and maiming of a bunch of townsfolk. Shitz sits back in his bed. "Run off and let Verity know Siltbay is being viked."

  Ever loyal, the Fool cartwheels down the stairs. Then Shitz sighs and says, "Man, being old sucks."

  "Yes it does, so quit your fucking whining about your little seizures and come home," Shrewd says, and ends the Skill call.

  The next morning, Fitz-Fitz packs up his stuff and heads out with Burrich and Hands to make the long boring trip back to Buckkeep.

The return to Buckkeep sucks especially hard because they have to take the 99 instead of the I-5 like last time, and Fitz is getting carsick. Along the way they keep having to stay in incredibly sketch Super 8s, which wouldn't be that bad (free soap and free weird smells!) but Burrich and Hands overhear someone standing out in the hallway talking loudly on their phone about how much King Shrewd fucking sucks.

  "Yeah he keeps raising taxes to 'defend our country' or whatever but Vikings are still viking the beach towns as much as they want," had said the Buckboi in the hallway. "You know who rules, though, Prince Regal!"

  "What towns did Buckboi say were viked?" Fitz asks.

  "A town no one cares about," Hands answers solemnly, "and the one where Molly had a house fall on her."

  After that incident, Burrich decides that they're gonna make the rest of the trip using surface streets and driving through people's yards. "If Regal finds out you're out here, he'll send someone to kill you," Burrich explains. "Verity's definitely not gonna protect you."

  "Is that because he consistently sees me as a tool first and a family member and human being second?"

  "Look," Hands interrupts. "I see Buckkeep-shaped lights in the distance." They ride up to the gates, which are guarded by a kid who was born a thousand years too early to be the squeaky-voiced teen working at the drive-thru. “Halt,” he squeaks. “Who the fuck are you?“

  Burrich scoffs. ”Who the fuck are YOU?“

  ”I asked you first!“

  ”I asked you sec—“

  ”All right, all right, who's holding up the line?“ The last book had a rich and exhausting cast of random extras murmuring in the background, but this one used all of their budget on talking CGI wolves, so they had to fire most of them and give almost all of their lines to Blade, The Guard Captain. His job is to appear at important moments and say things like 'hear, hear!' and 'how big WAS she?' “Holy shit, it's Burrich! Twitter said you and Chivalry's Post Nut Regret were dead!”

  “It's called X now,” Fitz says, emerging dramatically from the shadows.

  “Oh.” Blade says, while four of the other guards die of secondhand embarrassment. “H-hi, Chivalry's Pos... I mean... Fitz. You uh. Did you have a nice trip? Hey, you... did something with your hair, it looks... it looks good!”

  “Prince Regal was going around telling everyone I was dead, wasn't he,” Fitz says flatly.

  “Sometimes I can still hear his voice,“ Regal sighs from somewhere in the castle.

  ”What? No. What?? No! What?! No!“ Blade laughs as six more guards thud to the ground. ”No, of course not! It was just, you know, like, you know. YOU know. You know. I didn't really believe you were dead, I did retweet the link Regal posted but I commented with 'big if true,' so it wasn't really...”

  Fitz smiles. “Ho ho ho, Captain, don't worry your sweet little tits about it. Everyone falls victim to misinformation from time to time, and I accept the apology I assume you were about to provide me. Do carry about your business.”

  Halfway up to the stables, Burrich pulls Fitz aside. “Listen, Lil Accident, we're not at Grandma's house anymore,” he hisses. “You can't talk to people like you matter or Regal's gonna get his panties in a knot about it.”

  “And then he'll choke me,” Fitz agrees.

  “What?”

  “With his knotted up panties.“

  ”I'm also still alive,“ Hands offers after a long silence. ”Fitz, you're too weak and pathetic to wax your own horse, let me do it.“

  ”But...“

  ”Come on, Fitz, let Hands, my new favorite child, take care of the important work.“ Burrich takes Fitz's arm. ”Now go on up to the castle, that collar is making everybody question their sexuality.“

  ”What's a sexuality?“ Fitz asks, just before he's shoved into the castle, screen door banging behind him.

  Inside, Fitz looks around and notices that the place looks cleaner than it had before he'd left on the world's worst road trip. All the beer cans and ash trays have been cleaned up, someone's taken down the band posters and put up tasteful watercolors of succulents, and the 'NICE COCK' that had been scrawled above the toilet has been replaced with 'live laugh love.'

  ”Wrow,“ muses Fitz as he passes a sign on Verity's door that reads 'IF THE WARSHIP'S A-ROCKIN', DON'T COME A-KNOCKIN'. ”I'm kinda gonna miss the crusty sock smell. Good thing my room still reeks like teenaged boy.“

[pewpewkachuuboo]

A little huskerdust drabble because I haven’t written in a looooooong time and this show makes me want to jump back in.

Only warning is language!

—

Angel Dust looked tired. His white fur was disheveled and matted in some places, the eyeliner he had worked so hard to make perfect and even that morning was smudged and runny, and his favorite pink jacket that was currently hanging on his shoulders as he walked onto the balcony of the hotel was tattered at the bottom and covered in different kinds of unidentifiable stains.

The rails of the balcony overlooking the promenade leading up to Hazbin Hotel were surprisingly and welcomingly cooling against Angel Dust’s forearms as he leaned against them. His top hands were haphazardly trying to work a bright pink zippo lighter while the other two hands and arms he had extended moved to bring his jacket more snugly against his shoulders to avoid the chill of the wind. An unlit cigarette sat between his lips as uncharacteristically as the strange chill that seemed to be lingering in the air of Pentagram City.

After a few more clicks of the lighter, Angel furrowed his eyebrows and cursed under his breath before throwing the useless item on the ground and taking the cigarette from his mouth, “Fuggin’ bullshit, man. I just need a smoke.”

He stared at the thinly rolled cigarette between his fingers for a moment before twirling it in irritation, “I can’t get one fuggin’ thing ta go my way - of fuggin’ course this motha fucka won’t light ta give me SOMETHING.”

“Does your accent get thicker when you get irritated?”

The gravely voice that Husker spoke with made Angel shiver, something he attempted to hide with a dramatic drop of his chin and an exasperated sigh, “What fuggin’ accent? I ain’t got no accent.”

Husker’s chuckle was just as deep as his speaking voice and Angel wished like hell it didn’t make his toes curl like that when he heard it - especially not right now. One of his favorite pass times was to fuck with Husk, and usually he’d try to come onto the demon to get a rise out of him, but he was too irritated and impatient to bother with him in this moment, “Ya need sumthin? Cus I’m not really in the mood ta play today, kitty cat.”

Husker’s paw lifted the discarded zippo from earlier into Angel’s peripheral vision and lit it with ease, his eyebrows raised in concern, “I figured when you didn’t stop at the bar that today was rougher than usual.”

Angel’s first instinct boiled with anger in his stomach - how dare this lighter just work out of nowhere for Husker and how dare Husker try to sound so casual in this moment - but he let the feeling simmer in favor of lighting his cigarette before taking a long drag and releasing the inhaled smoke with a deep sigh, “Ya looked busy with tall, dark, and creepy and I wasn’t going to sit down and listen to ya get bossed around after being around Valentino all fuggin’ day.”

Husker leaned against the railing beside Angel, his black fur tussling in the wind as he looked thoughtfully at the front gate to the hotel, “That bad, huh?”

Angel snorted before taking another drag from the cigarette.

“Can I help, somehow?” Angel Dust peered over to be met with those glowing, golden eyes of his that made Angel’s stomach tie itself in knots when he recognized the pure concern.

But he couldn’t let someone be nice to him because he didn’t deserve it, “Ya can fuck off.” He looked away after uttering the words coldly, trying to avoid feeling guilty for pushing someone away again.

He could feel the heat of Husk’s paw hesitating over his hand for a fleeting moment and then Husk cleared his throat, “No sexy requests? That’s not like you.”

Angel grunted in irritation, moving his hand to his head to rub his temple, “Ya not bein cute, Husk. Get lost.”

The silence hung between them heavily like a thick cloud of smoke. After a few beats, Husk held up his paws in defeat, “Alright, alright. But if you need a drink later, Alastor is gone for the night on errands and so I can keep it open a little bit later just for you if you’d like.”

Angel took another drag of his cigarette and waited in silence until he heard Husk make his way to the door, “Gimme a few hours - I need ta clean up.” He flicked the cigarette over the balcony and turned on his foot to follow Husk back inside.

Husk gave a lop sided smile, his fangs showing slightly, “I’ll have your drink ready.”

Angel waited for Husk to walk ahead of him to let a small smile creep onto his face, “Keep that energy up and I’ll tip you extra good tonight.”

Husk let out that laugh that made Angel’s limbs vibrate and walked away.

Maybe this day could end better than it started, at least.

[appallinnballin]

Saw something stupid as hell on twitter(as per usual) so I wanna ask what your favorite headcanons for Sarv and Ruv are, either separately or as a couple

this took too long to answer than i would have liked because the minute someone asks my thoughts on anything its like suddenly i don’t know these people. suddenly i don’t know words JSJJSJDJSJD !

first of all here is this one <33

Sarv to me is transfem demiromantic bisexual (lesbian sarv is also extremely dear to my heart). Ruv is the same except transmasc/butch (lesbian Ruv, again, VERY good). Ruv does not care for labels whatsoever but he is just not straight nor cis LOL

Both are autistic, Sarv additionally has ADHD

Both are fat. just becaus

Both have had similar experiences growing up in terms of loneliness and harshness (what the experiences were are notably VERY different) as a result Sarv is prone to openly express and initiate affection/want whereas Ruv’s response to being touch starved was to shy and shun it away altogether. After their decades worth of time and understanding together this has changed, Sarv is more clingy with her touches while understanding of his boundaries. Ruv doesn’t mind anymore if she goes to touch or embrace him unasked but if he is feeling especially reserved he will mostly show it than voice it, and Sarv can usually tell.

In that same vein of thought, he will embrace her if he feels she needs it and never minds if she holds on him too tight after a stressful day or she has a lot on her mind (which can be often). despite her more open demeanor, I feel Sarv is as shy from pda as Ruv is. a looooooong while of unknowingly mutual pining can do that LOL sarv was the one who confessed first

Both have EXCELLENT green thumbs. Sarv taught Ruv the basics and joys of gardening within a few days and now he’s usually in their flourishing greenhouse if hes not inside or out hunting a target.

Sarv is considered the queen of hell, however she deserted from that position long long ago as a child in desperately hoping to attain a place in Paradise one day. despite her not exhibiting all evil natures of a typical demon (at least not anymore) if she were to return she would still be regarded highly. OR there was someone who took her place, and she is considered a deserter with no place for her return (not that she would want to)

Sarv has an entire library in their hidden nook in the church. It may or may not have every copy within the Library of Alexandria

Ruv lowkey dreams to be a part of the slapping contests he watches. he knows why he shouldn’t be allowed to

Sarv gave birth to Selever who was semi-planned. Rasazy, however was birthed by Ruv and neither realized until 3-2 months before the fact. they were not perfect parents but I feel they were good considering who they were, they provide for and love their bugs dearly <3

you know this one but they both experienced menopause at the same time but they didn’t know what that was. so they individually worriedly thought they were gregnant again 🥺

[pocima]

My seasonal music highlights: spring 2024 🦋

Welcome back to my silly little songs of the season reviews, you can check out this winter’s installment here ⭐️ one fave song per artist, no particular order, there will be a mini review section and trust I loved these songs as well, just couldn’t yap as much about them, you know the drill. GIF source: Supernova by aespa.

*: Full album review guaranteed to be presented in my year-end favorite project list

☾ Adulter8 - Sega Bodega*

Father… you have raised the bar yet again. Sega Bodega’s new album Dennis was by far my most anticipated project of the year, which unquestionably delivered the excellence I was expecting and more. I was so captivated by Adulter8’s intricacies that I couldn’t help but play it at least 92 times within first week of the album’s release. What starts off with an 8-bit-like sequence escalates into one majestic pre-chorus and afterwards the best beat drop I’ve ever heard in my life. The lyrics are a result of a thesaurus browse, simply the distorted “dilute, adulterate, diminish, reduce me to nothing, seduce”, effortlessly accompanying the elaborate Arabic-influenced instrumentals. Those beat drops though… especially the first one… that build-up… calling that “top-notch” would be insulting. I felt like my soul left my body for a split second when I was first listening to it at 12AM. I cannot even attempt to comment on the greatness of that singular drop. The song is overall just incredible and addictive, and will most likely end up as my favorite song of the entire year. I don’t even feel the need to comment on more for now because come on, this is Sega Bodega, this is off of Dennis, this is Adulter8. If you get it, you get it.

☾ Mine - aespa

The looooooong anticipated release day of Armageddon the album was a national holiday for Synkcity. We’re seeing such bright times after all these hate trains, mismanagement from SM, the sabotage from rival companies coming to light and what-the-hell-not, honestly. After nearly three whole years and three EPs, aespa finally present their full-length debut. Needless to say, singles Supernova and Armageddon are top-notch, continuing aespa’s all-smash title track streak. However, there was an album delight that blew my damn mind, and it was Mine. Hearing the first chorus in the highlight medley was enough to keep in mind that the track would be one of the best b-sides of the album, but I regretfully have to admit I didn’t think it would be one of aespa’s biggest guns as a whole. My jaw fell harder with every. second. of this. song. Karina and Ningning’s breathy, sassy, forceful, majestic raps kickstart the track along with tambourines that feel like digital diamonds jingling up in front of you. Winter comes through with the earth-shattering second half of the prechorus, and Giselle kills it by spitting one of her most plate-shifting rap verses. A major reason why Mine is my personal favorite off of the album is because how much everyone shines in their own right. Winter and Ningning are back at being one of 4th gen’s iconic vocal duos (as well as their pleasing rap lines), Giselle retrieves her well-deserved main rapper position (SM you can still catch it), and Karina effortlessly wraps both the vocal and rap roles around her fingers as she always does. That bridge? That bridge is disgusting even for four of the bridge architects of K-pop. The girls absolutely outdid themselves on this. The instrumental track may be less maximalist than the title tracks’ or, say, Set The Tone’s, but oh boy are they vehement and so hypnotic. The drums, the synths, especially the ones in the last chorus… it all forms together to make the song nastier and nastier as it progresses. Everyone involved in this walked into the studio with a mission to change the trajectory of music. I’m afraid I’m in this MY lifestyle for long. aespa truly are unsteppable.

☾ Fácil - Empress Of*

For Your Consideration promoted Empress Of into my new favorite indie popstar, and Fácil is my chosen earworm off of it. Every song on the album is so sultry and charismatic, and Fácil has this distinguishing sharpness in its sound, courtesy of umru, to top it off. Empress Of’s ear for memorable melodies and catchy lyrics especially come in clutch here, with casual melodic beatboxing in the background and the looping “tócame aquí, tócame ya, ya, ya, ya”. The self-made hisses and snares go hand in hand with umru’s signature punchy splices. Multiple layers of vocals linger in the entire track, from panting and breathing to sensually delivered lines in the higher range. The bit I’m gonna point out next is more self-indulgent (and I’ve pointed it out on my page previously lol) but nevertheless, I felt like the casual bravado and the combined danceability and grit of the track was akin to candy bOmb by OnlyOneOf, and the more good music with similar vibes, the merrier. Can’t get enough of either.

☾ Hypertonic - TAN (+ my Soda origin story 😙)

TAN have proven themselves to be masters of old gen K-pop revivalism since they came out the gate with their 2022 debut Du Du Du. The group first came to my attention with Walking On The Moon and later in 2023 with the hit Fix You, which went multi-platinum on my personal devices. For some strange reason, I still didn’t fully open my eyes and get into them despite their almost unmatched title tracks. That is until they released the first-day diamond-certified Hypertonic. Hypertonic, as a song, is pretty much everything I could ask for from a new gen pop boyband: in-your-face electronic production, intriguing composition, high-powered vocals and raps, and a full song structure, despite the track duration falling slightly below 3 minutes. The gritty synth heavy instrumentals are robotic and over the top in the best way possible, giving you the feeling that they’re straight out of 2000-10s Japanese EDM archives. The verses, chorus, rap and bridge hit all the right spots, going with the instrumentals instead of being overshadowed by them or vice versa. The high notes in the bridge and outro couldn’t have topped off the track’s overflowing energy any better. Now, I wanna bring up how I was particularly taken over by the first half of the second verse. I mean it when I say “taken over” because I was so obsessed with that particular member’s flawless line delivery that I was scrambling to learn their names. The particular member turned out to be their main vocalist Jooan, and it all made sense because he was behind the perfect vibratos (earned by his musical theater education), a good amount of high notes and runs (along with brilliant lead vocalist Hyunyeop) and bits that blew me away in previous songs I’ve heard from the group. Honestly, I was starstruck by all of TAN at first Kprofiles browsing sesh. I mean, what’s there not to love about a band of superb singers (+ superb main rapper Jiseong who’s obviously included in the “singers”), dancers, songwriters, producers (the self-production makes the music even more impressive), choreographers and overall artists who are intensely passionate and excellent at everything they do? This type of multi-skill and well-roundedness is exactly what I seek and keep up with in both K-pop and outside of it. Jooan though… you will pay for being the cause of some of my most humiliating K-pop fangirl posts. Love me a mind-blowing vocalist (duh), dancer, rapper, songwriter, producer, sound engineer, overall a true all-rounder with an irresistible face card. Please give these dudes’ music a stream or two because they really have no business not getting their flowers from K-pop fans and tasteful people.

☾ Malena - Domiziana

Somebody took “after your biggest flop comes your biggest slay” a bit too literally, and I am more than satisfied with that. After the colossal washout that was Domiziana’s previous single Katholisch Erzogen, which was merely another one of the examples of cheap blasphemy for shock factor accompanied by a fake-creepy beat straight out of the Tiktok “musician” archives, Malena turned everything around. Not only was it a massive bounce back from whatever she had going on with that disaster, but also an upgrade in her whole career in every single way. The production is arguably her most minimal but most defined and well-executed to date, with the amapiano influences and siren-like background vocals doing wonders. The vocals and lyrics are her best by a landslide as well. The whispery, high head voice stays, but this time with more emotion and variety in delivery. We listen to a story about cheating, betrayal and a lack of commitment, enriched with references to the cult classic movie Malena, the namesake of the track. The music video is set in Domiziana’s mother’s hometown, Catania, with different sets, cameras and editing. Malena ends up being an incredible audiovisual experience and the current highlight of Domiziana’s work. Maybe it’s just her highs and lows, maybe it’s her taking her career more seriously than ever, hopefully the latter. May she beat the one-hit wonder allegations (mind you, Ohne Benzin doesn’t hold a candle to this masterpiece) and continue to serve like this.

☾ Lipgloss - Terror Jr

A portion of pop music fans constantly ask for the good old 00-10s to be brought back, meanwhile some others wish to move on and focus on more future-oriented, complex sounds instead. Lipgloss masterfully combines both, delivering nostalgia yet nonetheless sounding shiny and brand new. The simple repeated chorus, casual lyrics and the vibe of the production overall feel 2016, and fans have likened the song to Terror Jr’s Bop City era’s sound. Still, the natural execution of this song makes it solid and refreshing on its own rather than a pathetic attempt at reviving what pop used to do. It took me a bit too long to find out that the experimental pop duo’s producer David Singer-Vine was ½ of The Cataracs, a producer duo behind numerous 2010s pop hits such as Like a G6 by Far East Movement and In The Dark by DEV (along with the entire The Night The Sun Came Out album). As a solo artist he produced songs such as Gold by Kiiara and Stuck With Me by Tinashe. This made the Terror Jr experience make a lot more sense: listening to their music feels like taking a trip to the present in a fancy time machine, with hosts who have a nice grasp on the past and the future. Special shoutout to that music box all over the instrumentals by the way, that scratched my brain just right.

☾ Perfect - Cosha

I didn’t call the MurMurs EP the “free therapy album” when it first dropped for no reason, you know. Alternative R&B hidden treasure Cosha returns to heal us all after her 2021 re-debut album Mt. Pleasant, with more of her sublime melodies and vocals. In the EP, Cosha keeps switching from soulful, serene and down-tempo (Fire Me Up, MurMurs Interlude) to drum-heavy, danceable and inviting (Relish, Glow). Meanwhile, Perfect pinpoints that sweet middle ground. Firstly, the beat is absolutely hooking. The drums, bass and recurring plucks pull me in the most, and Cosha’s higher-range head voice is pure magic, especially in the chorus. The second verse has this slight beat switch that brings forward the bass that I’m obsessed with, and then we’re back to that divine chorus with even more adlibs, high notes and harmonies. It’s laced. I feel like the whole project, but especially this specific song, would suit many people’s tastes, so this is especially a deep cut recommendation of mine to everybody.

Mini reviews

❥ Nasty - Tinashe: I feel so bad that this is going into the mini reviews section because the song has been on rotation since it dropped, I don’t believe I need to elaborate on its earworm factor. Obviously, Tinashe has an ear for hits, and the production is relatively simple yet so effective. So glad that it’s going viral and Tinashe is getting the hype she deserves.

❥ You know what (Hey listen) - 4s4ki: I’m afraid as long as 4s4ki keeps making music, she will keep appearing on all my favorites lists. She just can’t miss no matter what genre or sound she tries out. This one’s for the people that get their head in their hands and slide down a wall at 1AM. Give us vocals, give us guitar breakdowns, give us a REAL love song, give us everything, queen.

❥ Hard dreams - Gesaffelstein feat. Yan Wagner: Real techno’s been so back since Gamma dropped. The visuals for this album still hold their title of being the best of the year, by the way.

❥ Botoxxx - Isabella Lovestory: She SLID on that bridge. Love to see the budget in the MV. We need the sophomore album.

❥ Caught Up - FLO: The guitars? The vocals? That key switch in the bridge? FLO’s discography is still flawless. We need the debut album.

Thank you for reading, feel free to give feedback on the song recommendations or review formatting ☻

[alliebirb]

Daaaamn your revo art never ceases to make me gush all over it!! I love your ideas so much?? And your tags in your latest post intrigued me a lot, so I must absolutely ask, what are your headcanons for Atem and the past incarnation of Anzu? You mention that she fell first, but he fell harder and all. More details pretty please? :>

CHOCOLAAAAAAAAAA 🥺🥺😭😭💕💕💝💝💗💗💗💗🌷🌷🌷 i know i’ve talked your ear off already ab your revo art being my absolutely favorite since my early ygo days, this made my day!!!!!! !!! Im so happy my works leave an impression (づ ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )づ

As for my long-haired anzu posts, that isn’t a past reincarnation at all! That’s our actual anzu! They’re all art for a looooooong fic ive been meaning to write for years now: INFO DUMP N ARTS BELOW THE CUT

Basically, i wanted a friends-to-lovers slowburn revo with historical elements, so I came up with a little story where I could be self-indulgent >:3

for atem - since anzu joining him in the afterlife would be a mood-killer - after the canon ending, he gets an encounter with Hathor who gives him a gift.

basically: “you killed the primordial being of all evil??? Have a resurrection on me, kid, it’s on the house”

So plop! Atem dropped right back in his life when it stopped, except Mahad and the rest of the court is still alive… and no one has any memory of zorc at all. He gets to live without any of the world-ending responsibility!!

Some years go by til Atem’s in his early twenties and then PLOP AGAIN but this time it’s anzu getting yanked around by some time nonsense (thinking it comes from the re-gifted cartouche from Atem storing pent up time energy from being in two periods at once) but yay!!!!! Modern time pal!!! Ancient times friend who is fully alive??? Somehow??? Both are confused but happy!

Then they have time together, getting to know each other better, and so on and so forth, but! Anzu had long ago compartmentalized her old crush and is content to just be friends while atem starts falling DEEP in it. Anzu’s just so kind and brave and intelligent and she understands him SO WELL and GOD was she always so pretty???!! Who knows whether he’ll confess before they find a way to bring her back to the present…. In the meantime we get pining and domestic stuff >:3

maybe i could drop a drabble or two of my many snippets if yall want cuz lord knows this project will be a post-grad school thing

[inevitably-johnlocked]

i’m so sorry this is hyper specific…. any fics where john calls sherlock ‘WILLIAM!!’ when he’s in trouble or something?? i think it would be hilarious

Hey Nonny!

AHHHHHH eeeee I don't know if I have anything specifically for that, but over the years I have been asked for William Fics, so I'm just gonna use your ask to finally collect what I have <3 If anyone has anything more specific to Nonny's request, please let us know, 'cause Nonny's right, it'd be funny LOL.

That said, here is what I have for "William" fics, which I just did a search for his name and probably don't have any of them correct :( I pulled what I had on my MFL list as well to make this list a bit longer for you. Apologies ahead of time if they're not "William" focussed.

Please let me know if y'all have more!

SHERLOCK’S CALLED “WILLIAM”

See also: Sherlock Called William (Alexx's List)

Vale Mea by JohntheBlonde (G, 622 w., 1 Ch. || Implied/Referenced Death, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Pining Sherlock, Epistolary) – 'I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes...hereby...declare this my last Will and Testament.' 

what’s in a name by flight815kitsune (NR, 1,285 w., 1 Ch. || Soulmates AU) – There were some things you just knew. The name, if you were lucky enough to get one, was one of those things.

Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 23,031 w., 64 Ch. || Post-TRF, Online Dating, Pining, Epistolary, Cybersex, Long Distance Romance) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.) Part 1 of Dear John

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

MARKED FOR LATER

A Prequel of Sorts by foxy61 (G, 6,561 w. || Kidlock / Teenlock, Time Manipulation, Big Brother Mycroft) – William Sherlock Scott Holmes was born in a little cottage in the middle of a blizzard January 6th 1977. He was delivered by an ex-army doctor, one Dr. John Hamish Watson who apparently didn’t exist or at least not yet. Part 2 of A Blizzard Started it All

I Don't Need You to Like Me by Ranowa (T, 7,146 w., 1 Ch || Different First Meeting, Autistic Sherlock, Ableism, Papa Lestrade, Big Brother Mycroft, Child Abuse, Kidlock) – Greg's introduction to child abuse cases is a small, surly child with a broken arm named John Watson... and the even smaller, nonverbal boy that won't leave his side. The smaller, nonverbal boy named William Holmes.

To Belong Series by DrFish (T, 19,400+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Victorian / Mythical AU || OctoJohn, Scientist Sherlock, Attempted Kidnapping, BAMF John, Protective / Possessive John, Developing Relationship, Being Lost, Size Difference, Capital Punishment, Happy Ending) – William Sherlock Scott Holmes failed to graduate the University of Cambridge class of 1877. Adrift in London, he accepts a post as assistant naturalist on a scientific expedition to the Western Pacific Ocean aboard Her Majesty's Sailing Ship Frontier. Events do not proceed quite as planned and Sherlock finds himself cruelly cast away by his shipmates. Perhaps he will find salvation in the company of a most unlikely sea creature.

The Corvus That Calls at Night by S_IRIS (E, 19,834+ w., 4/? Ch. || Medieval Fantasy AU || Military John, Swordsman Sherlock, True Love, Historical, Politics, Falling in Love, Sexual Tension, Fictional Religion, Angst, Pining, Infidelity) – A final chance at forging peace between the kingdom of Brevaria in the south and the newly-seceded Brevarian Republic in the north hinges on a strategic but unpopular betrothal between the youngest brother of the Duke of Langley, the heir apparent, and Harriet Lily, the daughter of the Brevarian High Consul. Expectations are that a marriage alliance between Harriet and Prince William might soothe tensions on both sides of the border regarding the alliance and end the protracted civil war. However, Sherlock is only going up to the Brevarian moors in expectation of meeting Harriet’s older brother, the most talented military commander in over six generations. But behind John Watson’s legendary prowess in battle is a dark secret.

An Aftertaste Of Memory by Raithwithwings57 (M, 39,009+ w., 20/? Ch. || Post TRF, Rosie is in this Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, Amnesia (Sherlock), Torture, Scars, PTSD, Divorced John, Divorced Lestrade, Misunderstandings) – Sherlock Holmes was believed by most to have died by jumping to his death. A few people, Mycroft Holmes included believed he died in somewhere in Serbia, tortured to death, though his body was never found. Sherlock Holmes himself doesn't believe either of the above, obviously. After being extensively tortured in Serbia, he suffered a traumatic brain injury that left him with amnesia, and deafness. But the doctors say that the deafness is psychological in nature. It doesn't matter much to him. All he knows is that his name is William, and that he was once (and it seems he always will be) in love with a man by the name of John Watson. John has suffered much in the last eight years. Losing his best friend to suicide, marrying and then later being divorced by his wife, battling for joint custody of his child, and generally trying to forge ahead and figure out what the seemingly bleak future holds in store for him. But what he could never expect is Sherlock's sudden return. Nor the man's conviction that once upon a time they were madly in love.

Proper Manners by Jade5687 (E, 40,449 w., 2 Ch. || Medieval Royalty AU || Class Differences, Religion, Post-War, Master/Servant, Identity Issues, Period-Typical Attitudes, First Time, Light Bondage) – Sherlock Holmes is a charming—if somewhat eccentric—nobleman who often spends time with John, an apothecary’s son. When John is offered employment at King William’s castle, however, he fears he will have to say goodbye to Sherlock. But in the end, they might actually become closer than before. Part 1 of the King William's Castle series

Sehnenfäden by holmesian_love and Strange_johnlock (M, 67,879 w., 22 Ch. || Violinist Sherlock AU || Idiots in Love, Alternate First Meeting, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humour, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, First Time, Nature, Music, Seclusion, Angst with Happy Ending, Non-Explicit Sex) – William Sherlock Holmes is a world-renowned violinist, uncompromising with his principles and his punishing schedule, pushed to breaking point by his manager. John Watson is a lost, retired army-doctor, returned to London with nowhere to live. Both men end up in situations which lead them to a secluded German village in the mountains, escaping from the unforgiving world around them. A chance encounter brings them together, sharing a friendship and understanding neither of them have found before. Will they be able to find a way to express their true feelings for one another, to find the path to be together, despite Sherlock’s chaotic lifestyle?

The Killing Principle by Vulpesmellifera (E, 104,593 w., 46 Ch. || American AU || Gay John, Serial Killer Mary, Bum Appreciation, Sherlock is William, Dating Difficulties, BAMF Sherlock, Slow Burn, Thriller, Confessions, Whump, Angst with Happy Ending, Minor Character Death) – John Watson served twice in AmeriCorps, married his high school sweetheart, and then entered med school. A sudden arrest and accusation of multiple murders ends his promising career, irrevocably altering his life's trajectory. Acquitted of his wife’s crimes, John spends the next ten years as the maligned ex-husband of convicted serial killer Mercy Mary. A job offer draws him out of hiding and back to Connecticut - the very state where the crimes were committed. He needs the money, and the job is a dream. Then he meets the brilliant William Vernet, and it seems like he has a second chance at life and love. But the past has a way of catching up.

Beyond Recall by elwinglyre & MrBotanyB (E, 110,201 w. || Apocalypse/Dystopia AU, Alternate First Meeting, Case Fic, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, First Time, Alternating POV) – Dropped into Cardiff on a mission he doesn’t remember, everyday he wakes to a past he doesn’t recall in a world torn apart by pandemic. William (Sherlock Holmes) finds purpose when John Watson finds him. For Watson, this man is a mysterious thief with the uncanny ability to see into people. But there’s something more to this man, and Doctor Watson helps William find the answers to his “magical” deductions. Is he a mad man? A serial killer? Or just damn clever? And what’s his connection to the epidemic that wiped out most of the world?

[kenjiyabuki]

so here are some thoughts about DMD Friendship the Reality while we are nearing the end

yeah yeah its not that deep but actually no one caring/talking about a show makes me want to write a LONG ASS POST bc i cant get gratification from going through the tags and reading opinions lmaoooooo so HERE damn okkk i will make the content i want to see in the world i guess dont mind me......😞

im not even the biggest Domundi fan but i was intrigued by the premise of this show. i mean it's a basically fake dating show (like one of their challenge rewards was getting to sleep in a suite together as if they are there to date for real) and the end prize isnt just an acting opportunity as it comes w the big decision of choosing a looooooong time acting partner. so i wanted to see how they would do it. BOC did a similar thing w The Hidden Character which i dropped halfway in bc it was too long and i found the challenges to be irrelevant to the ending goal. this show is the opposite of that and thats why ive been enjoying it.

it is edited to be concise (only 5 eps) and honestly, is quite tranquil. all the challenges were about things they will be required to do in the future as DMD actors/idols and stakes aren't even that high. You could always guess who would win before they even started (((like of course broody model guys won the photoshoot challenge and guy w two series under his belt won the acting one, DUH))) but it was still enjoyable to watch. show's goal isn't to generate tension and competitiveness. it is more of a workshop/chemistry building camp and also a way to introduce the new generation and get the fans warm up/attached to them.

as i spent time in bl fandom sphere, i've come to realize introducing a new gen is tricky. i thought everyone would be ecstatic to see new blood and a lil bit of mix and match but BL fans are reaaaaaaaaaaally attached to their faves and generally see newcomers as threats who will take opportunities from their already neglected (!) precious babies (e.g. just couple weeks ago FortPeat fans were protesting the new lesbian side couple in the upcoming show for stealing screen time from their faves, which is a joke in itself). this kind of show is genius way to get people to warm up to idea of new faces. at the end of the the day, these fans' weakness is two beautiful boys indulging in sweet moments they can be delulu over and considering how ships were already born from the first episode, DMD FTR succeeded in their goal.

LETS TALK ABOUT THE BOYS :-) *this starts playing*

I had to make this during first ep bc they are all dark haired boys w similar builds so I kept confusing them lmaoooooo (Tle not pictured as he joined later)

i will firstly talk about the fan favorite possible "couples";

KengNamping, the quiet visual couple and yes I love em!!!! they were kinda the only "conflict" in this very conflict free competition.

is Keng the CALMEST person I've ever seen? Latte is laid back too but Keng is just seems zen. sometimes (in the face of conflict) he just seemed hard to read but mostly he has such a calming presence. honestly, he should open an ASMR channel if this acting gig doesn't work out.

Namping also comes off very warm and graceful. him being "wow I'm finally in the winner suite" to Keng after finally getting chosen in ep4 made me laugh like DAMN he really was offended by what happened in ep1 and kept letting it slip. Idc, you are so right my prince and don't ever let Keng forget what he did to you...

when it comes to the possibility of them as a couple: i am kinda here for it while also not knowing if i actually believe in their "moments" in the show? Namping definitely set his sights on him from the beginning but Keng seemed nonchalant about it. Keng finally choosing Namping after his win, their sweet moment on the bed etc. seemed to me like classic reality show moment prompted by production to fit a certain narrative WHILE ThomasKong's pseudo-date-night chats seemed very real and spontaneous.

they do visually have chemistry, i'm not gonna act like i wasn't blushing when Keng trying to flirt during dinner or Namping softly touching a sleepy Keng's chin in the bed etc. Or even in ep2, when Namping tries to confront Keng about his pick but they are too timid and just unable to talk about it openly!!! arrghhh it's a hard to watch moment but still, made them more intriguing because they had such a tension between them. it would be a shame if it wasn't explored more. that tension can be channeled into an angsty series, just saying...

So, they def have a long way to go in their bond and arent comfortable like LatteFirst or ThomasKong but still, they are a strong contender and I would be glad to see them as a couple in a show. Namping already got my attention in the acting challenge and wonders can be achieved w a lil bit of workshop. they got the juice already!!!

Now, lets talk about ThomasKong.............

me watching Thomas relentlessly chatting Kong up since THE FIRST EPISODE

so I knew LatteFirst are set be a side couple in upcoming Love Upon a Time but i was confused to see why everyone on Twitter was already going cuckoo over these two random boys until i saw them interacting... Wow, like Thomas really came here w one mission: get Kong and leave.

because Thomas is such a flirt like DAMNNN😳😳😳😳he needs to be jailed for carrying lethal amounts of charm... IT MUST BE SAID: I love his fits w those thin glasses, he should've been wearing those in those office BLs he was in because he has been serving "office siren". Tiktok girlies eat your heart out.

while Kong isn't the best at acting or singing (he is the best KengNamping shipper tho and i LOVE a fudanshi BL actor), he definitely would win Mr. Congeniality if they were giving that title. he naturally and effortlessly has great on screen charisma. he is a certified cutie and the only one who can get real full belly laughs from Thomas!!!

i think what they managed in the acting challenge is the testament to their palpable chemistry. acting wise they weren't perfect (naturally, their uneven acting experience levels were apparent) but they were the only one who managed to tonal shift in their scenes. it's because they were the only ones who played into the romantic subtext of the scene. they also held eye contact for the longest (because they are comfortable w each other and not shy!!!), which elevated their chemistry and made me AND the judges giggle and roll our hair and kick our feet and shit!!!!!!!!!!!!

they are obviously the most likely to win the show and they deserve it too. no matter the result of the show, i want see them carrying a series as mains because they can and should. i also believe DMD won't fumble their bag, so i am not worried about it.

to conclude, I will quote Zee,

then we come to LatteFirst, the kinda established couple: in the ep5 preview, we see First trying to choose between Latte and the newcomer Tle, which seemed random to me and could be a production touch to create conflict in this very smooth sailing show.

i loved seeing Latte being nonchalant about the possibility of First choosing someone else, what a laid back guy. like Mio in THC, every BL reality show needs a half asleep and occasionally funny dude.

now i am thinking; what if First chose Tle, would he also replace Latte in LUAT bc DMD doesn't really fuck w mixing matching their couples. i honestly don't know where did all that come from but i feel like the result wont be too shocking, First and Latte are already really close and comfortable and got The Chemistry. need i remind of Latte punching the air a la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club when it was announced they both chose each other for the dinner date? and their sweet and comfortable banter on that said date??? let's put our pens to work and write a friends to lovers rom-com for the boys based on that material please...

i dont think they are likely to win but might be strong contender. i just want to see them as a side couple in LUAT (hopefully this year!!!!) so they can develop themselves and their bond a little bit more before getting to a main couple level. their sweet friendship shouldn't go to waste!!! (is it obvious i am more drawn to BL couples who are besties in real life?)

damn this post is about to be a novella so i will make it short about Gems, TeeTee and Tle, i hope Gems won't be too upset about getting slighted again 😥 like i said, stakes aren't high on this show and results are always obvious: these guys are going back home empty handed, we all know it. they are all charismatic and VERYYY talented but i just felt like none of them really focused on "getting a partner" part of the show, not just the main challenges. even TeeTee who was picked by Thomas and Keng seemed kinda uninterested about partnering up. but you cant really force chemistry and i am sure they will get many more opportunities in the future. they already started their fanbase!!! i cant stand to see Gems so upset, i hope he wont be too sad.

these are my opinions. maybe the ending will do a whole 180 and idk, GemsKeng or TleKong or some other random couple will win, who knows???? cant wait to watch the new overly airbrush filtered, Cheewin directed DMD show up to like 5 episodes and then get bored and drop it and follow the rest from gifs!!! good luck to the boys <3

[theamphibianmen]

Ok it's informational post/disability update time! Everything is under the cut because this gonna be looooooong

I'm officially on my second pair of forearm crutches! These are so much better than the old ones for so many reasons. My old crutches were the Orthostix foldable crutches, full cuff. My new ones are Walkeasy 480s. Both are in black.

I know I'm probably going to piss off some people with this, but if you are a full time crutch user-- which I am not, I'm somewhere between full time and part time*, and if you have the money for Walkeasy (or another brand that charges more), I do not recommend Orthostix.

This is because mine lasted me less than a year. I used them every day for 7+ hours and I just don't think they're built for that. They seem to be for people with temporary injuries who will use them for 2 months and then put them in a closet somewhere. They just couldn't handle my lifestyle.

The way they broke was me folding them to put in the car for a trip and the elastic snapped in the left crutch causing a bunch of the hardware to just. Fall out. This caused the unbroken right crutch to weigh slightly more than the left, and the already not great weight balance of the broken one to be even worse.

Speaking of weight balance, the majority of the weight of my old Orthostix was in the handles. They have this style of handle:

Which is supposedly "ergonomic." I understand what they were going for, but holding them the way they're supposed to be held put my wrists at a 90° angle, like this:

Having your wrist in this position isn't inherently uncomfortable I guess, but if it's already bent like that and you put pressure on it that can hurt. This shape also adds a lot of unnecessary weight to the handles.

My new crutches are definitely heavier, but they don't feel as heavy because the weight is evenly distributed. The handles are simple, basically cylinders with grooves for my fingers to rest in. I can hold my wrist straight with these, which is a godsend when it comes to stability and comfort.

I also had a lot of sizing issues with my first pair. Even on the shortest setting, the space between the cuff and the handles was too long for me, so they were always slightly uncomfortable to use. I terms of height I was also between sizes. I'm "5'7 and most of it is leg. Note that this is less of an issue with the crutches themselves and more another reason they weren't right for me.

The cuffs are also a lot... tighter I think is the best way to describe it? The new cuffs look like this:

Which means they stay on my skinny nerd arms a lot better. For reference here's the cuff of the old ones:

Note that this is after I shrank them with boiling water. I tried to make straps with pleather and velcro but it did not work. At all.

The new ones also have these super cool light reflectors on either end of the handles,

which is great because I'm frequently outside at night and my town doesn't have consistent sidewalks.

The main body/material of the crutches is textured as well, which will be helpful for decorating, and they make barely any noise, which is a breath of fresh air compared to the clicking of the old ones.

Overall, I'd say that my old crutches were a 6/10. Definitely the right idea, but at the end of the day didn't meet my needs, while the new ones are an easy 9/10. The only thing even approximating a complaint I have is that these don't fold, but that feature is what ultimately lead to the old ones breaking. That does come at a cost though: my Walkeasies were about $120, while Orthostix will only run you $70. If you don't have the money for Walkeasy, Orthostix gets the job done. If you do though, I highly recommend them.

*I never leave the house without a mobility aid, and 99.9% of the time it's my crutches. I only walk unaided in small spaces I'm familiar and comfortable with that I know have plenty of platforms for me to push off of and catch myself on. I've heard that full time means you can't walk unassisted at all, and I don't really use my aids around the house (but I would if there were space) so calling myself a full time user feels misleading, but calling myself a part time user feels just as misleading because very few people see me without my mobility aids. If I'm out of the house, which happens nearly every day, I will be using my crutches. So IDK where that puts me. If anyone has a term I can use without upsetting anybody please let me know.