#my dumb snake son

[justmaghookit]

I fed my snake last night and he managed to strike and grab the frozen-thaw rat DIRECTLY by its balls, he then ate it ass first.

[hooffuloftootsierolls]

In light of the reveal of Abel's complete design, have this dumb doodle i made on magma a week ago based on an interaction my bsf @plushtoothpanic acted out while we were joking about Vivziepop's lack of diversity(the dog character is his sona).

Also, rant below involving Abel, I don't want this to become a critical blog since Hazbin has held a special place in my heart since 2021, but oh my God I am so sick of the shit that Vivzie is pulling

Making Adam white was already quite a choice, I had a pretty specific vision of a dark-skinned curly-haired man before his face was revealed. Although I had been expecting a biblically-accurate Adam, I didn't mind having him white as long as Eve wasn't made white as well.

Abel's design throws this out the window.

First let's focus on Abel being the child of Adam and Eve. This means Eve is white, and likely also blonde. Historically, the first humans were East/South African, and not white. Ok, well what about biblically? The popular depictions of biblical figures are mainly European interpretations from when Europe adapted the Bible and made all the figures pale, like them. It's more likely that the dark-skinned writers that originally complied stories into the Bible meant for the figures to look more like them. It would make more sense if one or both of them was dark.

Saint Peter is a whole nother' piss drawer that I don't wanna open, but whitewashing an actual human being that existed is just so gross.

Now, the other thing I wanna talk about that talks less about race and more about theories surrounding Abel being blonde... People were already theorizing that maybe one of the kids was Lucifer's spawn because of the implied affair with Eve. It wasn't the most popular theory but now it's making a comeback with the reveal of Abel's complete design.

I dislike this theory(besides the fact that it's just stupid) because

1. Cain is Adam and Eve's firstborn son. Abel is their second. Even if Eve and Lucifer had an affair in Eden, that would result in Cain, not Abel. Also we aren't entirely aware of Lucifer's powers involving entering the living world but I doubt he can canonically go there, or at least not after Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden, since Hell was made as a punishment for him and any mortal that sins and I don't think he would be able to waltz back to Earth that easily. I suppose maybe they could be twins and Cain could just have been the first one born, but I don't think that's usually what "firstborn" implies, or how it's generally interpreted?

2. This is gonna look really bad on Lucifer's part?? Like, this implies that Lilith left Adam for Lucifer, then Lucifer got with Eve(possibly cheating on Lilith if she wasn't aware/didn't consent to the affair) and cucked Adam for a second time???? Lucifer would straight-up be getting the Stolas treatment where they keep making him more and more shitty then try to justify it anyways. Cmon guys.. I wanna be able to cheer for Lucifer too but he doesn't seem remorseful at all for anything he's done, more like he's been playing the victim for a decamillennium despite being a possible cheater and the one who destroyed Adam and Eve's life.

3. How would this be plot-relevant at all?? My closest guess is to make a disconnect from Adam like "oh he was never my ACTUAL father anyways" and also to try and make a bond with Abel and Charlie being blood-related so he would decide to side with her or something. Also on top of that I hate the whole trope of someone suddenly not giving a fuck about the parents who raised them in favor of their biological parents who didn't raise them. It's a dumb trope and if this theory is canon and they pull something like that.... ughh.

yeah. Overall, too many Aryans, pleasepleasepleaseplease pleaseeep please don't make Eve white even though I know they will anyways, and if that stupid theory is true then Lucifer is a snake-tongued, home-wrecking, unfaithful pile of shit that is disguised as a poor depressed dad that the fandom eats up and woobifies. Not that I don't want him to have flaws, but he doesn't seem very sorry for what he did(he has his whole snake and apple motif, that's like saying you feel guilty for a murder then using the hyper-specific murder weapon as your symbol) and also Abel being his son would be such an unnecessary plotline that would make him look soooo so so so so much worse because he wouldn't have much of a wholesome excuse for that.

The only good things I'm getting out of this are that I can post about Abel without having to tag it as leaks and also people are cracking jokes about Abel being the son of Lucifer and Adam

[s-lverwing]

02. VEIL OF BETRAYAL

pairing. aegon targaryen x velaryon (targaryen)!reader x maelor targaryen (aegon’s twin).

summary. queen alicent subtly weaponizes your buried fears against your deep sense of duty. And the twin brothers only deepen your sense of sin. Forbidden desires rarely earn the favor of destiny’s eyes.

word count. 5.3k (sorry, again…. why am i yapping so much). ao3 link

warnings. angst, mommy issues, targcest (niece and uncles?), toxic relationships. heavy pinning. kind of infidelity? religious guilt. internalized misogyny. bastardphobia? no aegon here. english isn’t my first language and i haven’t read the books.

a/n. it starts right after the end of chapter 1. please if you’re enjoying this leave a comment, reblog, whatever u want 🐛. and i plan to read fire and blood because i feel so dumb searching things on google…

— previous chapter

The hallways of the Red Keep stretched endlessly before you, each step feeling more distant, as though the very ground beneath your feet was slipping away. A high-pitched ringing filled your ears, drowning out everything but the erratic thudding of your heart, which seemed to shake your entire being. Your vision was blurred, and you scarcely registered Maelor’s firm grip on your arm, steadying you as you nearly stumbled down the stone steps.

A whirlwind of thoughts raced through your mind, yet it was impossible to grasp a single one. The summons from Queen Alicent had been unexpected, unsettling, a sharp contrast to the routine of your days. Rarely did the queen seek your presence — or was in your presence, except during the formality of dinners or the fleeting moments when she entered the room in the middle of a conversation with King Viserys. There was an unspoken distance between you, one that you could never bridge despite your strange fondness for her; in a way you pitied her. But in truth, you always wanted her to be fond of you, perhaps that was why you often found solace in the Sept.

The heavy doors of the Queen’s chambers loomed before you, guarded by Ser Criston Cole. He ushered you and Maelor inside, and as the doors closed with a resounding thud, the world seemed to narrow into a single point. The unease in your stomach grew sharper, cutting through the fog of your thoughts.

“Your Grace,” you murmured, curtsying as you met Alicent’s gaze. Her eyes, cool and assessing, flickered over you, taking in your tear-stained cheeks and the redness that rimmed your eyes. Maelor, standing at your side, addressed her with the casual ease of familiarity, “Mother.”

Alicent’s expression shifted to one of mild concern, though there was an undercurrent of something sharper, as she spoke: “Were you crying? Where have you been? Has something happened?”

The questions hung in the air, and for a moment, you struggled to form a coherent response. But before you could speak, Maelor’s arm snaked around your shoulders in an uncharacteristic gesture of closeness, silencing you. His touch was not comforting.

“I found her with Helaena,” Maelor said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Alicent’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing as she studied you. There was always something disapproving in her gaze, as though your very presence was a source of irritation; even when she was the one requesting your presence. You were an unwelcome reminder of things she preferred to forget—of the king’s favoritism, of a lineage she loathed. You were a symbol of her husband’s neglect of his own children, and worse, a bastard who had inherited Valyrian’s traits, in contrast to your bastard brothers. She preferred to be dead before marrying her sons to a bastard, but then again, she had no saying in those matters, because Otto Hightower made the decision for her.

She pursed her lips, her displeasure barely concealed. “But why were you crying?” she pressed, her tone dripping with mock concern. She savored this moment, relished the opportunity to remind you of your insignificance. She enjoyed every opportunity she had to remind you of your place, and oh how lost you looked since your mother left you here.

Her voice laced with false sweetness as she continued, “What could possibly have happened to you, dear?”

Her use of the word “dear” was nothing but a mockery, a blade wrapped in silk. Your gaze hardened as you looked up at her through your lashes, the hatred simmering beneath your skin, barely contained. Alicent noticed the defiance in your eyes, and it only seemed to amuse her.

“I—I just tripped,” you lied, your voice barely audible as you cast your eyes downward.

“Oh, then we shall have the maester—” she began, but you cut her off, your voice gaining strength.

“—That won’t be necessary, Your Grace. I am fine.” You paused, forcing yourself to meet her gaze, your heart pounding as you asked, “Why am I here?”

Alicent rolled her eyes, a gesture so dismissive it stung like a slap. “We have been discussing your future with your mother,” she said, her voice clipped and filled with irritation, as though the matter of your life was an inconvenience to her. “It’s… complicated.” She sighed, but her eyes burned with barely concealed anger, as if your very existence was the complication she wished to be rid of.

“Do you mean I will be sent to Dragonstone?” you asked, a sliver of hope creeping into your voice. The thought of leaving the Red Keep, of escaping the suffocating presence of the queen, seemed like a distant dream. Even when you dreaded the idea of marrying someone like your bastard brother.

But your hope was dashed when Alicent let out a choked laugh, echoed by Maelor, who tightened his grip on you, as though claiming you as his own — because he knew what was about to come. “No,” Alicent said, her eyes flicking to Maelor’s hand on your arm, a spark of something unreadable flashing across her face before it hardened once more.

The heavy doors to the chamber swung open, and you jumped at the sound, your heart leaping into your throat. Otto Hightower entered the room, his expression one of barely contained satisfaction, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. But on his face was a ghost of a smile.

“It’s good to see you both already pleased with our decision,” Otto said, his voice smooth and calculated, a half-smile playing on his lips as he looked at you, his eyes gleaming with unspoken intent.

Though you longed for the warmth of a father’s care, Otto’s gaze offered none of that, in this moment. It was cold, calculating, and beneath his veneer of a somewhat paternal concern lay something far more dark. You could never quite see through his intentions, never quite discern the web of schemes he wove around you all. Yet, despite the unease he inspired, a part of you still craved the safety of his approval, blinding you to the danger lurking beneath.

You pushed Maelor’s arm away, taking a small step back, your mind rushing as you tried to make sense of what was happening. “What decision?” you whispered, your voice trembling as a deep frown crowned your stare. Your eyes, still red and glossy with unshed tears, darted between Otto and Alicent, searching for answers.

Otto regarded his daughter for a moment, a silent exchange passing between them before he turned his attention back to you. “It is a wise decision,” he began, his tone patronizing, “to unite our families… for you and Maelor to marry… each other.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Your breath caught in your throat, the room spinning as the weight of the announcement pressed down on you. “Maelor?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, the name tasting like sand on your tongue. Your gaze flickered to Maelor, who was grinning. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

“Go on,” The hand of the King said, his voice a smooth command, cutting off whatever protest Alicent might have offered. She looked as though she might be sick, the thought of you marrying her favored son turning her stomach. How could a bastard like you dare to consider herself more worthy than Maelor?

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you summoned the courage to speak. “I—I think it would be wiser to marry me to Aegon,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your hands trembled, slick with sweat, as you feared they might see through you, see the truth you tried so desperately to hide. But there was no outcry, no immediate suspicion. Otto raised an eyebrow, and Alicent clutched her stomach, her face a mask of disdain.

“I am in the line of succession,” you continued, your voice a bit steadier now, though your insides twisted with dread. “I am the heir to the throne. It would be wise to marry me to the King’s firstborn son.”

Alicent’s scoff sliced through the tension, her eyes hardening with resolve. “Aegon will be married to Helaena,” she declared, the decision already set in stone. “She needs to stay close to her home.” Her tone softened slightly, as if explaining something that should have been obvious; but it also held the love she has for Helaena.

It was your turn to clutch your stomach, feeling the bile rise as fresh tears threatened to spill from your already swollen, red eyes. Your entire world was spinning. Every sacrifice you had ever made now seemed in vain, and it felt as though the Gods had turned their backs on you, rejecting your prayers. It wasn’t the loss of Aegon you feared, but the storm brewing on the horizon—the political games, the power plays that had once been distant now felt inescapable, you were always a pawn. And betrothal was far more than just a political arrangement. It was a prison sentence.

You weren’t ready to be caged within the Red Keep, churning out heirs year after year to secure the bloodline. Your mind scolded you for ever listening to Aegon’s empty promises. Promises of choice—lies, all of them.

“Maelor suggested—” Alicent began, but you cut her off.

“I have a petition,” you blurted, the words tumbling from your lips before you’d even fully thought them through. The ringing in your ears grew louder. The words barely registered in your own mind.

“You’re in no position to make petitions!” Queen Alicent shot to her feet, her voice sharp.

“I am in a position! I am in a position to demand everything!” Your voice rose, cracking under the weight of your frustration. “Wasn’t I born to be queen? Am I not the heir to the Iron Throne?” The room seemed to hold its breath as you threw down your claim. It wasn’t that you lacked faith in your mother’s right to the throne, but Aegon’s claim was backed by the laws of the Andals. You knew this, and that knowledge fueled your desperation to secure your own survival—to make yourself indispensable. If you were no longer necessary, you were expendable. Or at least know that the council isn’t planning to murder you.

Alicent’s eyes flared with rage, but there was something deeper there—a flicker of recognition, maybe even regret. You saw it. For just a moment, she wasn’t the Queen but a woman who had once been in your position—trapped by duty, by the demands of others. Now, like you, she was no longer warm, no longer kind. You could see the shadow of her younger self in her expression, the version of Alicent who still had hope, who hadn’t been tainted.

No one spoke, and the silence only fueled your resolve. You pressed on, your voice stronger now, staring at Otto. “Wasn’t I obliged to learn about politics and war strategy while other highborn girls spent their days gossiping and learning how to be meek and pretty? Have I not been loyal to this crown, to the realm?” You shook your head, the injustice of it all burning in your chest. “If I’m not to marry Viserys’ firstborn son, then I deserve more than this. I won’t be handed off to a second son without something in return. I want a seat on the council.”

“You insolent—” Alicent began trying to defend his son, now long forgotten in the room. But you cut her off again.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Your voice sharp now, like the edge of a blade, as you whip your head at her. “I fear what happens when Viserys dies. I know what war can bring to women and children. I’m protecting myself.”

Otto Hightower, who had been watching the exchange with a measured expression, finally spoke. “We can find you a spot,” he said, his voice cool, knowing full well the futility of it. A woman on the council—someone to be seen but never heard.

“It’s settled, then.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you held your ground.

“Leave us,” Alicent ordered, waving you off, her face pinched with frustration. She couldn’t hide her disdain for what had just transpired, but she knew as well as Otto did that there was little choice in the matter. You obeyed, turning on your heel, but not before noticing the weariness in Alicent’s eyes. She had once fought battles like yours and lost.

When the door closed behind you, Alicent turned to her father, her voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t it be easier to marry her to Aegon?”

Otto shook his head, his expression unreadable. He understood what Alicent couldn’t bring herself to admit.

Easier, yes. But more dangerous.

There was something deep within you, a growing ache in your heart that no tale, no scripture, no ancient word of wisdom could ever soothe or shake off. The fire of guilt simmered beneath the surface of your soul, consuming you in its relentless heat. Even though you knew your suffering was nothing compared to the horrors others had faced, you feared—feared with a trembling certainty—that if war descended upon you, it would tear you apart. Not just in body, but in spirit. And where would that leave you? What would become of your heart, your mind, your soul?

Once, the future had been so clear. When you were younger, when Aegon barely noticed you, it was as if the path was already created. Everyone knew you were born to marry him, and there was a certainty in that—a weight that was lighter back then. You had been kind, proper, untouched by the cruel realities of the world around you. But now? Now, you were torn between rival claims, between lovers. It all felt so fickle, as if the life you had lived in the Red Keep was nothing but a distant dream.

You had wasted years trying to inch closer to Alicent, clinging to your faith in the Seven as though it would redeem you, as though it would make you worthy. Faith had consumed you, shaped you, made you believe that if you followed the path laid out by the gods, you would find peace. But peace eluded you now, and even the Seven-Pointed Star that hung heavy around your neck, the same one you wore as a brooch on your chest, could no longer protect you from your own self. In truth, you felt as if only pushed you down.

And whenever you looked at Alicent, it was as if you were staring at a reflection of your own turmoil. Her eyes mirrored your own fears, your own doubts. She had been shaped by duty, by faith, and by the expectations of others; by her father and by her husband’s expectations. In her, you saw what you could become, if you weren’t careful—a woman trapped in the chains of politics and piety, whose heart had been suffocated by the weight of sacrifice.

As you walked inside the Grand Sept, the echoes of your footsteps echoed through the empty space. Your dark green gown, grand and ostentatious, clung to your body, suffocating you in its fine silk and embroidery. It felt like a cage, like chains that bound you to your place in this world—a pawn in the endless game of power. The gods you had once prayed to now felt distant, indifferent to the turmoil swirling in your heart.

The Sept felt colder that day, its vastness more unwelcoming than usual. The chill seeped into your bones, making you feel as though the very grace of the gods was pushing you away, disgusted by your presence. Yet, deep down, you liked to think they had never truly been on your side. Perhaps the gods had forsaken you long before, or perhaps they had never cared for you at all. A bitter thought twisted in your heart—what if you had lived your life faithless, like your mother? Would it have spared you from this constant weight of guilt?

Your mother, so free of the shackles of this, had birthed bastards without shame. Would she regret it now, or had her love for them eclipsed any regrets she might have had? You had always known that she loved them more than she would ever love you. That’s why she had so readily accepted Viserys’ petition to leave you behind in the Red Keep. And even when she fought for you, it hadn’t been enough.

If you could strip it all away—your title, your duty, your faith—you would. You would tear it all from your skin and live as something other than this pawn. But now, it was too late. Too much had been said, too many decisions made. The gods had never offered you a choice. They had only demanded your obedience.

And Helaena—sweet, kind Helaena. How could you ever look into her face again, knowing the truth that gnawed at your soul? You were still in love with her soon-to-be husband, the father of her future children—their children. The thought made you sick with guilt, twisting inside you like a dagger. How could you stand before her, with this secret festering inside you? How could you ever offer her a kind word again, knowing that you longed for what was now hers?

Your hands felt clammy, slick with sweat as you knelt before the stone altar. It was cold, unyielding. Before you, candles flickered, their small flames struggling against the drafts in the Sept. You reached out with trembling fingers, lighting one of the candles. But your mind was blank. No prayer formed on your lips, no words rose from your heart. There was only the hollow silence of your thoughts and the suffocating weight of guilt.

“For everything that comes…” you began softly, a whisper so faint it would be lost unless someone stood right beside you. “Make Viserys’ sayings align with the Andal’s law…”

A chill crept through the Sept, a cold breeze brushing over your uncovered elbows and across your face. You shuddered, closing your eyes, grasping for the comfort of prayer. “Keep us away from our own madness… keep me on your path…”

Your whispered plea hung in the air, fragile and wavering like the flame before you.

“Does it ever help?” The somber voice shattered the silence, startling you. Maelor’s presence, unexpected and intrusive, made you jump, and the delicate flame of your candle extinguished with a soft hiss.

You didn’t turn around. The weight of his voice and the meaning behind his words made you uneasy. You could picture the expression on his face without seeing it—a hyena-like smile, sharp and calculating, masked beneath that smooth charm.

Why had he followed you here?

You reached up again, intent on lighting another candle, even though the act felt futile. The gods felt distant, absent. Rejection was all you could feel in this cold, hollow place.

Before the flame could catch, Maelor’s hand gently caught your arm, his touch soft but firm. He knelt beside you, his presence unsettling yet strangely familiar.

“You fear madness?” His voice, softer than expected, lacked the mockery you had anticipated. It was almost… tender.

You didn’t meet his gaze, eyes fixed on the unlit candle as your chest tightened with frustration. “Don’t you, Maelor?” Your words were sharper than you intended. “The stories—”

“Gods, you sound like Viserys,” he muttered, scrunching his face in mock annoyance. The sudden shift in his expression, the familiar way he said it, broke through the heaviness of the moment. Despite everything, a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“I think I spent too much time with him when I was younger…” you whispered, your eyes fixed on the flickering candles, their soft light casting shadows on your troubled thoughts. “Aren’t you afraid?”

Maelor’s smile was gentle, though his grip on your arm tightened, an attempt at grounding you. “What can truly happen to us?” His voice, warm and reassuring, echoed through the cold stillness of the Sept. “Sometimes things are bigger than us, yes, but I think we both knew what we were meant to be since we were children. We rarely get to make our own choices, or follow our own desires.”

His words mirrored the ones you’d spoken to Aegon so many times before—reminding him of the weight that came with being the king’s firstborn. When you had said it, it was always with a sharp edge, meant to cut, meant to hurt him.

From Maelor’s lips, it didn’t feel like a reprimand, but a shared burden. He wasn’t the heir, he wasn’t the one with a crown awaiting him, and yet he understood the constraints of being born into power. His words carried no bitterness, just quiet acceptance of a fate neither of you could escape.

You turned your gaze toward him, noticing how the candlelight softened his features, making him seem even more distant from the sharpness of court life.

You couldn’t bring yourself to voice the thoughts clouding your vision.

“I never wanted this for you,” Maelor said softly then, filling the silence.

“It doesn’t matter now… I don’t think it makes a difference,” you replied with a half-hearted smile, trying to mask the turbulence within.

“I know I’ve always been hiding behind Aegon’s shadow—”

You cut him off, the words spilling out before you could fully control them. “I’m sorry for what I said, Maelor. It wasn’t my intention to… offend you.” Your smile faltered into a pout, a gesture of regret that seemed to offer little solace. Maelor’s gaze was heavy with pity, his eyes reflecting a depth of sadness that made you feel even more isolated.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he whispered, his voice carrying a resignation that matched the flicker of the candles ahead. For the first time, his focus shifted away from you, absorbed by the soft, wavering light.

“But I do, of course I do, Maelor,” you insisted, your voice trembling with an urgency that bore a resemblance to his mother’s fervent pleas. “You didn’t deserve to be treated so cruelly… I wasn’t thinking—”

“I’ve always been second, in everything and to everyone. To Aegon. To the crown. To my mother… even if she seldom shows it. And now, to you,” he confessed, his tone devoid of sorrow but carrying a weight that seemed almost indifferent.

His words struck you with a force that was almost physical, like a harsh slap to the face. You had always believed that he was favored, that his place was secure, but Maelor had always lingered in his brother’s shadow, where his errors were forgiven with ease. “That’s not true…” you whispered, struggling to reconcile the depth of his pain with your own perceptions.

A smile crept upon his face as he turned to you again, his eyes glistening with a blend of melancholy and mischief. “You’ve always known where you stand, since we were children. You know where your heart and allegiance lie, and it’s with him.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, your voice trembling and barely audible against the stone walls of the Grand Sept.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said softly, his hand moving from your arm to gently cup your face. His touch was unexpectedly warm and tender, a stark contrast to the coldness of the stone around you. You felt an involuntary shiver, a deep, unspoken longing stirring within you, urging you to indulge in his embrace.

“It’s no use,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the harsh reality. “Because whatever you want doesn’t really matter now. And it doesn’t change what I want, even though I know my place.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, a surge of heat flooding your insides. Your mind raced, struggling to ground itself in the present moment, both physically and mentally. But it was futile as his thumb gently traced your cheek, a touch so light it felt like a ghost’s caress. The sensation made you want to pull away, to put space between you. Despite your lack of interest in Maelor—he was, after all, Aegon’s twin—an unbidden thought lingered: if you couldn’t have the first, perhaps you could have the second.

“Maelor,” your voice trembled, a whisper caught in the fragile space between you. Words failed you, leaving you paralyzed with uncertainty about what to say.

His face drew even closer, your eyes widening in a mix of apprehension and anticipation. “What can happen to us?” he murmured, his voice sweet and barely audible, the question hanging in the air.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Your mind was tangled in a web of guilt and desire; Maelor’s touch was achingly familiar and inexplicably comforting. His eyes searched yours, not for an answer, but for some sign—any sign—that you wanted him to leave.

His breath was warm against your heated skin, and his lips were tantalizingly close. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though the burdens of your life were lifted, leaving you both enveloped in an equally forbidden and sacred space

In the quiet of words and stares, the gods keep watching.

You closed your eyes, resting your forehead against his. Your heart raced, thudding violently in your chest. You felt as if you were suspended in time, teetering on the brink of something both exhilarating and terrifying. As Maelor’s thumb brushed softly against your lower lip, a shiver ran through you, igniting a warm, electric sensation deep within your core. The restraints of duty and guilt seemed to melt away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of longing.

Forgetting your place, you dared to lower your face, your lips brushing his own with a tentative softness, almost as if testing the waters. But the blood in your veins surged wildly, and the fragile tension between you both shattered in an instant.

He deepened the kiss, his desire unmistakable, and you allowed it, welcomed it. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him—and not only did you let him, you crumbled beneath his touch, surrendering to the warmth of his light hold. The desire that had long lain dormant within you stirred, taking form, your fingers instinctively tangling in his auburn hair. Every inch of your body responded to him as though awakened, alive with a hunger you hadn’t realized dwelled so deep.

The world around you seemed to dissolve into shadows, the sacred walls of the Sept now tainted by the weight of your shared desire. The sanctity of this hallowed place stood in stark contrast to the sinful pull between you. The air was thick, heady with a tension that felt both forbidden and intoxicating. Maelor’s hand slid down the curve of your back, his fingers tracing each delicate bone of your spine with agonizing slowness, as if testing how much you could bear before you broke. He drew you even closer, his breath hot and uneven against your skin, as though he, too, was consumed by this fire. His lips ghosted over the hollow of your throat, enough to make your breath stutter in your chest.

“Maelor…” the sound of his name slipped from your lips, nothing more than a trembling whisper, heavy with guilt and need. It sounded like a prayer, a plea. You couldn’t tell if the word was meant to halt him or urge him on, but either way, it left you exposed and vulnerable.

His hands tightened their grip on you, his lips pressing harder against your skin, teeth grazing your collarbone with a sharpness that made you shudder. You could feel yourself coming undone beneath his touch, unraveling like a thread pulled too tight. This wasn’t meant to happen—not here. Not with him.

He kissed the seven-pointed star hanging from your neck. His fingers found the edge of your dress, slowly gathering the fragile fabric, lifting it just enough for his hands to slide beneath and wrap around your naked thighs. The feel of his warm hands, soft and insistent against your bare skin, sent you spiraling. You hadn’t imagined this would ever happen, let alone now, in this place, under the watchful eyes of the gods. And yet, as his hands roamed higher, guilt momentarily dissolved into the air. A choked, breathless moan escaped your lips, betraying your deepest shame, and instinctively, your hands flew to grasp at his clothes, clutching at his waist—not to stop him, but to anchor yourself.

“Maelor…” His name slipped from your lips again, barely more than a sigh, the sound drenched in breathless need. His fingers dug into your flesh. You knew it was wrong—so deeply, impossibly wrong in every sacred sense, yet with each passing second, you found yourself yearning for more. Every touch, every stolen breath, only made you crave the sin even more fiercely, as though the very act of transgression bound you tighter to him.

His hands stilled on your thighs, as though savoring the moment, while his lips found their way back to your neck, pressing softly against your skin. He lingered there, feeling the wild, uneven beat of your pulse beneath his mouth, as though testing just how far you would let him go. Your hands trembled as they clung to him desperately, fingers twisting in his clothes like a lifeline, like you were to combust into nothingness if you let go.

“I–We shouldn’t,” you murmured, but your voice faltered, weak and thin, lacking any true conviction. You knew it, and worse, so did he. Maelor was no fool.

His head tilted slightly, just enough for his breath to tickle your ear, his voice a soft whisper. “Then tell me to stop,” he challenged, his tone thick with temptation.

But the words refused to come out.

They lingered on the edge of your tongue, trapped behind the weight of your own desire. The silence that stretched between you was louder than any confession you could have made. You couldn’t stop him, and in that moment, you realized you didn’t want to.

The moment stretched, suspended in a breathless stillness. His hands slid further beneath the fabric of your dress, inching slowly higher until they reached your waist. There, his fingers caressed your skin with a softness that both quickened your pulse and made your heart race ahead of any coherent thought. The gentle press of his hands against you was enough to make your body ache, silently begging for more. In that suspended moment, your body screamed to surrender, every nerve alight with the need to give in—but your mind, though fragile, still fought desperately to hold on.

Then, in a single heartbeat, when his grip tightened possessively around your waist, the weight of everything you had been ignoring crashed down on you with brutal force.

You pulled back sharply, your breath ragged and uneven. “We can’t… Maelor, we can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you forced the distance between you. Shame and desire swirled together in your chest, leaving your skin burning with the memory of his touch, each place his hands had been still aflame. The ache of wanting him, and the guilt that gnawed at your soul, tangled so tightly that you could hardly breathe.

His eyes searched yours, confusion flickering in their depths before he slowly released you, his hands falling to his sides. Yet, despite the distance you’d forced between you, the raw desire in his gaze lingered.

“I—” he began, his voice thick with unspoken words, but you shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish.

“Not here. Not like this.” Your voice wavered, fragile and trembling, each word tasting of heartbreak as it left your lips. The weight of what you were saying felt like it might crush you, but it had to be spoken. “It’s the only thing I have left…” The final words came out as a whisper, laced with pain, as though this last shred of control was all that tethered you to who you once were, and to the vows you had sworn.

— next chapter

a/n part 2: god how i LOVE to yap …. i’m sorry for no aegon in this. i’m thinking so many thoughts right now. i have so much to say… but i feel like nothing’s happening… anyways. and i don’t know how far i want to take this, because i was writing the blood and cheese scene and then i saw crazytom’s art of jaehaera and jaehaerys and i don’t want to kill him… so i don’t know. and also i wrote something of the reader and their dragon bonding but where the hell am i supposed to put that? so maybe i’ll add like an extra scene or something :3 because i thought it was cute.

[beenbaanbuun]

mummy issues w/ jung wooyoung

i accidentally posted this yesterday when i wasn’t meant to… whoops!!

——————————————————————————-

“here, baby,” wooyoung smiles to you as he lifts the spoon from the bowl. you stand there, awaiting with an open maw as he blows on it softly. it smells good, but then again all of his cooking does. it smells of love and care and everything else that wooyoung seems to ooze out of every pore on his body. he’s a sweetheart, as he reminds you when he gently pushes the spoon between your lips. “if that doesn’t make your mum fall in love with me, i don’t know what will.”

the comment makes you roll your eyes, but you can’t surpress the warm smile that takes over your face as you savour the flavour of his soup. it’s just as you expected; warm and perfect. you swallow it down before leaning forward to offer him a peck to the lips. his lips are just as warm as the food, as is his face when you lay a hand on it to deepen the kiss. it’s slow and passionate but it’s over way too soon. as wooyoung pulls away to go back to his cooking you can’t help but feel entirely unsatisfied.

you settle for the next best thing and snake your arms around your boyfriend’s waist. you squeeze him once before relaxing your arms and letting them sit comfortably upon his hips. he hums in appreciation, the buzz passing from his body to yours. even something so small feels so intimate with him; like every ounce of love in his heart is being passed to you through that single vibration. it’s sickeningly domestic, but you’d happily suffer any illness the world can throw at you just to keep him in your arms.

“my mum doesn’t love anyone but herself and my brother,” you purr against his shoulder. “but i appreciate you trying. you never know, babe; maybe you’ll break the curse!”

“the curse?” he tilts his head just enough to see you from his peripheral. you look so soft with your face all squished up against his shoulder. he can’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. “what’s the curse, baby?”

your lips pull into a tight smile as you try and think of the best way to word it. how do you tell your boyfriend that your mother will never like him for the sole reason being that he’s yours. she won’t like how abrasive his personality, despite him having more love in his little finger nail than her precious son has in his whole body. she won’t like the way laughs, despite it sounding like a windchime compared to your brother’s cackle. she won’t like his cooking or the way he looks or walks or talks. she just won’t like him because you do.

and you really, really do.

you sigh into his shoulder and shrug. “the curse is dumb,” is what you settle on, “dont worry about it, alright?”

you can tell your words don’t do anything to quell his curiosity; the way he keeps his eyes on you for a second or two longer than necessary reassure you of that fact. wooyoung trusts you, though, so he just sighs and nods before switching his gaze back to the soup on the stove. he stirs it for a moment or two before leaving forward to grab the salt. you watch as he twists the grinder once, almost twice before you hear it.

the doorbell.

you freeze, a rush of panic filling your body from head to toe. she’s early, like always, and while you thought you’d been prepared for this exact moment, it’s very apparent that youre not… in the slightest. it takes a moment of just standing there, completely unmoving before wooyoung decides to do something. he takes the spoon from the soup and puts it on the counter next to the hob. his hands find yours and he pulls at them, loosening your arms just enough for him to be able to turn around and look you dead in the eyes.

your anxiety is present in every part of your body. it’s in the way your eyes cant stop blinking and the way your mouth hangs open as you try and take in as much oxygen as possible. your breathing is quicker than wooyoung thinks is healthy, but he doesn’t really have the time to take you through a set of breathing exercises; he realises that when the bell rings a second time. he can’t help but scoff at your mothers impatience.

“i can answer the door if you want,” he murmurs in a voice that seems so soft that it couldn’t possibly have come from him; your loud mouthed boyfriend who up until now you’d been convinced just didn’t have a volume control. it’s sweet and just like that you fall deeper in love with him. you hadn’t thought it possible, but as he stands there with your hands in his, offering to help solve all your problems, you feel like you did on that very first date. it’s like you’re experiencing love at first sight all over again.

and maybe that’s what helps break you from the prison your worries had trapped you in. the knowledge that you finally have someone in your life that loves you just because you’re you. you don’t have to put on a show anymore, or alter everything about yourself just to please him. you smile up at him, overcome with adoration, and you shake your head.

“i need to answer it,” you mutter, “it’ll satisfy her ego to see me beg for forgiveness over all the minisculde faults she decides to point out. might put her in a better mood for when i introduce her to you.”

the doorbell rings again, forcing you to break free of the little bubble of love you always seemed to be in when with wooyoung. “tell her that patience is a virtue, when you let her in,” he jests when you let go of his hands. there’s a loud cackle of a laugh when you roll your eyes and it eases your muscles even further. wooyoung really is the best remedy for your worries.

but even with your anxiety eased and your heart full of love, the walk to the front door feels unbelievably long. the hallway seems to carry on forever, growing longer and longer with each step you take. you’re almost sure you could run to it and never reach it.

that is, of course, until you do reach it, and then it all feels too fast. you give the hallway a final once over with your eyes, and only now do you notice the wonky painting on the wall and the spot of dust in the far corner. you’d spent hours cleaning with wooyoung last night and right now it looks to you like might as well not have bothered. it’s not like your mum will see all the time and effort put into what you did do anyway. she’ll only notice the smudge on the full length mirror you keep at the end of the corridor and the tiny scratch in the paintwork that was left there by the new sofa you and wooyoung had tried to awkwardly shuffle into the living room. before now it has seemed like a fun memory, but now you can’t help but find yourself wishing that you’d accepted the help of the men who delivered it to your home; they wouldn’t have scratched your walls so carelessly.

there’s a final wrap of a fist against your door and you know you can’t stall any longer. you unlock it with shaking hands and pull it open to see her.

your mother.

she hums disapprovingly as she steps inside, not even bothering to take her shoes off at the door. you look down at your own socked feet and suddenly feel insecure. is it wrong if you to demand your mother take her shoes off in your house? your brain tells you no and yet it still feels disrespectful. wooyoung would tell you otherwise, but wooyoung doesn’t know your mother. setting a boundary is an act of disrespect, and so with a tight chest, you let it go. the shoes aren’t the end of the world, after all. there’s so much else for you to worry about.

“do you not own a hoover?” is the first thing that falls from her mouth. not a hello, or a how are you. it’s a backhanded comment about the single spot of dust you missed on your cleaning spree. you grimace, hands folding into fists by your sides. you dig your nails in as a desperate attempt to calm your self down. part of you is tempted to push her right back out the door and lock it in her face, but instead you point to the doorway at the far end of the corridor. it leads to the kitchen where wooyoung is. hopefully he can break the curse, although judging by your mothers sneer, you aren’t hopeful.

“i must have missed it,” your voice is monotonous and tired, already fed up after just a few seconds in her presence. if she noticed, though, she doesn’t care. she’ll probably just chalk it down to you being ‘unmotivated’ and ‘uninspired’ like she always does whenever you aren’t practically bouncing off the walls.

you herd her into the kitchen like a shepard, walking behind her to guide her towards where your boyfriend awaits his judgement. each time her shoes tap against your floor, you die a little inside. you wonder if wooyoung will be disappointed in you for not standing your ground like he always tells you to. like he’s so good at doing. you wipe away that thought almost instantly; it’s just the effect your mother has on you. the disappointment you’ve experienced from her since you were a child wrapping its ugly tendrils around every single aspect of your life. you could never make her proud, but wooyoung isn’t her.

wooyoung could never be her. the pride he makes you feel for the tiniest of things makes up for the shame your mother makes you feel. you could wake up in a morning and wooyoung would find something to gush over. either you get up on a day when you’d really rather not, or you spend hours at the stove making breakfast that certainly doesn’t live up to anything he could make. he’s proud of you for simply existing, and that’s so much more than you could ever ask for.

there’s a ghost of a smile as you follow your mother into the kitchen and lock eyes with your boyfriend. he raises a brow; you shake your head as your smile grows. now isn’t really the time to tell him how dear he is to you, although by the way his face softens, you believe that he already knows.

[beyourownanchor6]

you've got game

—idk this silly idea came to me after last nights ep and i just blacked out and wrote whatever this is <33

words: 1.1k | rated: g | read on ao3

They’d been lying there for about ten minutes with nothing said between them. Buck had asked Eddie about Chris and the letter, listening to Eddie work his thoughts out, offering commentary when needed.

The conversation with Chris had devastated both of them, but especially Eddie. With Chris getting older, the difficult questions kept coming. They were both finding them harder to answer.

For the time being, Eddie had settled with the fact that Buck had talked Chris through it and that Chris had eventually read the letter and put the picture of his mom back up. It was a start.

It was a serious matter, one Buck knew Chris wasn’t going to be “over” with a single letter, but it helped; for now.

Even so, Buck couldn’t help the silly little thought that kept creeping in the back of his mind. He let out a little laugh for it, quickly trying to cover it with a cough. Eddie didn’t buy it.

“Care to share?”

Buck cleared his throat as he turned to lay on his back. Eddie laid on his side next to him, facing Buck.

“Nothing. It’s uh, it’s dumb. And probably not uh, not appropriate right now.”

Buck knew if he turned toward Eddie he’d find his boyfriend directing a raised brow his direction. And so, Buck avoided it, turning back onto his side and away from Eddie. Still, Eddie wasn’t having it.

Eddie snuggled up behind him, snaking his arms around Buck as he pulled him in close, nuzzling into him.

“Inappropriate thoughts have never stopped you from sharing before.”

Buck snorted as Eddie squeezed him tighter.

Buck tapped his fingers over Eddie’s, stalling.

“Well it was just, I was kind of—proud.”

“Of what, that I didn’t have a panic attack about the whole thing?”

Buck smiled as he brought one of Eddie’s hands up to pepper kisses over. “Well yes that, but I was thinking more that ya know…our son has game.”

A groan fell out of Eddie and he was turning away and abandoning Buck in an instant. Buck rolled to face Eddie, propping his head up on his arm.

“C’mon babe, he has five different girls going after him? I’m just saying; that’s pretty impressive.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Buck pushed into Eddie’s space, nosing into him.

“I mean, I’m just saying…we know he doesn’t get that from you.”

A playful yet warning pinch came to his side, Buck yelping a little for it as he pushed further into Eddie’s space. He made the smart decision not to say anything further.

Eddie’s arm reached out, his fingers landing on Buck’s hip. His hand fit right into place, molding into Buck.

“I got you, didn’t I?”

Buck was grateful the room was dark enough to hide the flush of his cheeks. Even after all these years, Eddie still had such an effect on him. He hoped that would never change.

Buck slid his hand down to meet Eddie’s and he threaded them together.

“I’m not immune to your charm like the others.”

Eddie snorted. “You just like my ass.”

Buck quickly shifted their positions so he could get his hands on Eddie, practically pulling his boyfriend on top of him. He squeezed Edddie’s ass before kissing him a little filthily.

“Well it is a nice ass. But it’s not why I fell in love with you.”

A smile fell off Eddie’s lips, one he placed to Bucks.

“Then tell me cowboy, what did lure you in?”

Buck preened for the dorky pet name. He brushed his hands up and down Eddie’s arms a little absently as he thought over all the things that made him fall in love with one Eddie Diaz.

“Well, you’re badass under pressure, you let me into your adorable sons life, you always have my back, you’re my best friend, you’re the best dad I know, and you’re probably the most selfless person I’ve met besides my sister. You’re always there when anyone needs you, and adorably afraid of technology. You make me wanna be a better person and you just…well you love me for—me.” Buck squeezed Eddie’s arms before leaning up to kiss him and whispering into him. “And you have a nice ass.”

Eddie rolled his eyes then kissed Buck again, sweet and slow.

“Thank you Buck, for always being there for us. Chris looks up to you; trusts you.” Eddie looked down to him, those browns wide and endearing. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Buck smiled up to him while pulling Eddie closer.

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

Their lips met in the middle, soft yet passionate kisses shared between them. They eventually settled back into each other, Buck on his back with Eddie nestled in close.

“You know,” Eddie started, tapping a finger across Bucks bare chest. “I’m pretty proud of you too.”

“Why’s that?” Buck asked, settling further against Eddie.

“Well, I know how badly you wanted to congratulate our kid for being a total ladies man, but you somehow managed to refrain. I know that must’ve been hard for you.”

Buck sighed as he tossed his head back. “God Eds that was so badass of him! I wasn’t meant to be the un-fun parent.”

Buck pouted while Eddie snickered. Eddie sat up to kiss his pout away, Buck easily accepting it.

“You know, I still have pretty good game.”

Eddie raised his brows. “You think so?”

Buck puffed out his chest a bit. “Oh I know so.”

“Prove it,” Eddie challenged, Buck not backing down.

Buck pulled Eddie back against him, wrapping him up tight as he whispered in his ear, sliding his hand down the expanse of Eddie. “So are you just excited about this talk or is that a—“

“Buck—go to bed.”

Buck totally had game, for the record. Eddie was no fun sometimes.

“You didn’t even let me get to the punchline!”

“That’s because I already know it dork. You use it on me all the time.”

Well, when Buck found something good, he stuck with it. Especially at work when it tended to send a blush across Eddie’s cheeks as Eddie gave him a firm yet bothered warning.

“Fine, but I have more, that I will be wooing you with starting tomorrow.”

Eddie chuckled in his hold. “Can’t wait. But just remember, you already have me. I’m all yours Buck.”

He did love the sound of that.

Buck snuggled in closer, Eddie tilting his head up so their lips could meet.

“And I’m all yours.

Just when Buck was finally settled and on the verge of sleep, Eddie’s voice filled the silence.

“You can use your cheesy lines to pick me up any day.”

Buck smiled into him. “Yea, or you know uh, you could-you could use them on me.”

Why did they need game when they had each other?

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tagging squad below; lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

tags: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @buddierights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @eddiiediaz @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @transbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @heartshapedvows @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal l @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @murder-trio @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire

[mischievously-royalty]

Why do you even bother with a dumb snake? It's not like it can protect you or anything. It's just a joke and a dumb waste of time. Take it from me, I would've dumped that thing!

Yeah, it's a joke and a dumb waste of time, that's why we are such a perfect pair!

To Heaven, I'm the best joke their ever heard and they think that talking with me is a waste of time so we are the perfect match! Simple dimple.

Also, why would I take something from a son of a bitch? If I wasn't married, I'd take your mom and dad. But I only have eyes for my deer so don't worry!

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

I'm still saying Afton is not the Mimic

Spoilers for the Ruin DLC under the Cut. I wanted to include this in my mega post... but I know that the fandom is flooded with "the Mimic was Afton all along" theories right now actually.

There will be a lot under the cut, explaining some personal theories and the ending of the RUIN DLC so... be warned.

The Mimic, if you read the books, (but you probably haven't so I'll explain it in a few short sentences) is a character from the Tales of the Pizzaplex Books that was built by a Faz Engineer who made a robot to mimic his son to keep him company while he worked long hours while he lived in a factory. The child died in a car accident, and the Mimic kept miming his son's behavior. So in his grief, the engineer beat him to death in rage and grief. This infused rage in the machine.

So now the Mimic mimes behavior of a four year old, but it's corrupted and twisted. It will mime the action of 'scooping icecream' but will be scooping out your brains. It also has an adaptive learning AI so the violent pain it experienced, along with a four year old teaching it, it's a very dangerous thing.

It's also buried into the foundation of the Pizzaplex. And was reprogramed by some dumb lazy tech to clear the debris down there. By disassembling the robots and putting them in a pile. Which it did to all the human construction workers by disassembling them and putting them in a pile.

"This pile" I think is the Blob. Or as the game files refer to it.... "THE TANGLE."

(hard to see but take my word for it. that's him)

(cheating camera angle)

I think "The Tangle" is a infused pile of machinery, robots, and bodies that have all wound up down there.

So, we know that the blob is real. But I really think it's "The pile" that the Mimic has been stacking in the Book Epilogues. And it got out. Gregory/Mimic or Grimmick, says that something tunneled out of the building... And I believe this is 100% true. Because in Base Security Breach, we see this thing in the underground where Afton's room is.

But in RUIN.... This thing is on the top level??? HOw Did he get up here???

Easy..

He tunneled up.

So... the reason why RUIN looks like it does, and HOW it looks how it does...

Is because The Tangle got loose. And has been using the Pizzaplex as it's own series and network of tunnels like a burrowing snake or ant. Causing the entire building to fall in on itself. The Pizzaplex is it's ecosystem now. So that's why everything is falling apart how it is. He's breaking the very foundation and walls of everything.

So we do know the Blob IS real.

And let's assume that he's "the pile" that the Mimic has been building in the Tales of the Pizzaplex Epilouges. Just... sorting all the garbage, bodies, and endos into piles that he can find and stack.

So we know the Blob is real... but is Afton Burntrap real?

Forgive me I don't have the proper collectable screenshots so I'm pulling from the Wiki:

Throughout the game, you collect these real collectable comics that include all of the endings of Security Breach. And Cassie can recognize this as Gregory's art style, and has no idea when he had the time to make these or when he made them. EXCEPT Princess Quest. Which is pretty important I think. Which I think cements that Princess Quest is the definitive three star ending.

It's also worth noting that in Vanny's Room in the RUIN DLC... there is a book of "Fazbear History" by Vanny's Bed. So if Vanessa was freed and got out... we can assume she was talking to Gregory about the Fnaf lore as she knows it.

Also, it makes sense why some of these endings are a little insane now. cause it was just Gregory trying to process everything that happened to him at the Pizzaplex.

Gregory: So, I thought you had a twin sister for the longest time and-

Vanessa: Try again...

But anyway... if None of the previous endings were real.... Is Burntrap even real?

We collect this before we face the Mimic.... of Afton and the Blob. So we know The Blob/Tangle is real.... but was Afton ever real? Was Burntrap ever real? That's what we need to answer...

But if he isn't.... Why is his charging station down here in the furnace room all clouded up? ....As if it never was opened. As if he rotted inside with no more remnant to collect???

Cause here's the thing... I can accept the soft retconning of Afton. And if he was never real to begin with, and this is just Gregory's personal interpretation based on what Vanessa told them about what she was suffering through, I will take that. Or maybe Gregory saw the Mimic and interpreted it as this... I will take that as well.

However....

From what I said earlier... The Mimic... All his motivations in the game don't line up with Afton's.

He is doing exactly what he wants to do.

The Mimic is sealed in the back with Concrete... he's using Helpi and the VANNI Network to get Cassie to let him out. He just wants to get out of the basement and get Free.

Now... if Mimic is Afton the whole time...

and there is a case for it... they have almost the same idle animations as an endo, the Mimic does have Burntrap's claws on one hand. And he does have a similar pawed foot to Burntrap's design and they're practically identical height and pose.

And the Mimic is almost one-for-one linked with Hepi and the VANNI network. And I don't doubt that Vanny the person was using the VANNI network to get around the pizzaplex and become invisible to certain animatronics.

.....But...

here's a big But...

If the Mimic's goal is to kill people with his bare hands... and to get out of the concrete sealed basement, and break all the Security Nodes so he can get free???

WHY DOES THE PIZZAPLEX HAVE SO MANY MISSING PEOPLE/CHILDREN?

Why was the Human Staff all killed in the Pizzaplex?

Why are their children missing?

Why is Vanny hunting children and adults alike to kill in the first place?

This is not the Mimic's MO.

Because Vanny WAS working under influence of Glitchtrap and not the Mimic.

Because if the Mimic just wanted to get out... He would have told Vanny/Vanessa... head of Security.... To break all the Security Nodes A WHOLE LOT SOONER. Cause she literally has a VANNI Mask/suit and access to all of that.

The Mimic has no need for remnant or child killing or human killing if they aren't doing it themselves. The Mimic has always been very hands on with their kills.

But If Burntrap Afton is REAL... HE DOES have a reason for gathering this much Remenant.

He is growing in the charging station and trying to regrow his body.

And while the Mimic moves in a similar fashion to Burntrap, I think that's because he witnessed his behavior at one point and is copying it. But he never saw Afton in his prime. So he literally can't mimic the serial killer behaviors Afton is known for. Just likely his walk and how he breathes.

Because He literally can not copy Afton as a copy-cat killer, if there is NO Afton to Copy. There is no way that he could have learned who Afton was from all the way down below into the foundation. Especially with MXES keeping it hidden down there. And by "hidden" I'm sure it's hidden from Glitchtrap to even possess or check out that low.

People have to remember. The Mimic doesn't have access to illusion disc technology from the books. he can't replicate a corpse face. He's just a learning killer AI who has access to crappy mascot costumes. He can't look one-for-one like a person, even if he can sound like one.

So, there is a possibility that Burntrap Afton DID exist... He just rotted into dust once Vanny stopped collecting remnant for him.

Or there's also the possibility he was never real to begin with.

But.... Glitchtrap certainly was at one point. And Vanny was working with Glitchtrap to kill employees and children.

Not the Mimic.

Just their motivations and modus operandi don't add up if they are one in the same.

It wouldn't make sense for the Mimic to just tell Vanny to parade around in a bunny suit, kidnapping children and killing employees.

He would be telling her to disable the Security Nodes.

There is also the possibility that Vanessa sealed the Mimic in concrete after the events of Security Breach. But even then, I really don't think that she knew about it before hand until she went down to the basement to unplug Burntrap from his charging station.

Anyways... The only way I will see "Mimic is Afton" is that if Afton was using it's body. But then, it's not the Mimic anymore, it's just another Afton-clone.

And from everything from how I've seen the behavior of the Mimic in the DLC, it is operating completely divorced from Afton with it's own motivations and morals of it's own accord.

Oh, just to be clear, I'm not mad at this soft-retcon of burntrap. It's fine. Lol I actually prefer if he didn't exist.

And even if Burntrap was never real in the first place....

Then it means that Vanny was purely an agent of Glitchtrap.

Then when the Glitchtrap Virus got destroyed.... the Mimic hijacked the VANNI network and took it's place.

[atxxokirina]

'Make You Mine Again' (18+)

Lo'ak x fem Omatikayan reader

contains: SMUTTY SMUT, mention of cheating, lo'ak (somewhat) gaslighting reader, dom lo'ak, p in v, wall fuck, creampie, squirt. lmk if i missed anything!

plot: you dump lo'ak after discovering he cheated on you. he feels terrible about his fuck up, so he comes over to make it up to you.. to make you his again.

Your boyfriend, Lo'ak was one of the best hunters you knew. He'd exelled at just about everything. Aiming arrows, throwing his bola, spears, axes— and his accuracy when it came to the variety of knives he owned was truly incredible. The only thing Lo'ak continuously failed at was timing.

"Ready, aim, shoot!" Jake shouts at his warrior crew. The bunch shoot in unison, arrows flying at their targets. "Tsu'mong, Áyena, Neteyam, great forms! Chest relaxed with confident shoulders. I love to see it." He claps. Jake makes his way to Lo'ak's distressed arrow, eyeing how it landed just below everyone else's. He bends down, plucking the arrow out of the tree.

Jake stands up to look at his son. Holding intense eye contact with him. "Everyone.. dismissed." Lo'ak knew he was to stay, just by the way his father was glaring at him. You watched from above the trees, feeling a sad ache forming in your heart as you watched Lo'ak bow down his head in shame. As the group of hunters walk away from the site, you wave to Lo'ak. He holds back a grin, vaugely nodding up at you.

"You already know what I'm gonna say, boy." Jake growls as he points at Lo'ak. "Hunting retreat is in 2 days. Get your timing straight or you're not goin' with us! That understood?"

"Yes, sir.." Lo'ak replies, voice low. "Good. Now go, dismissed." Jake grunts as Lo'ak picks up his arrow and walks away. Your eyes follow him. You drop down from the tree you sat in, landing right behind him. "Hey! You okay?" He turns around. “I’m alright." He sighs.

It just feels like I’m never good enough for him..” His tone is strained, eyes casted down on the ground. “I try my absolute hardest- I think I’m doing everything right, but then he gets upset anyway. I just don’t know what to say. This stupid retreat is dumb anyway.” He shrugs, shaking his head. "And did you see the way everyone looked at me when he called me out?"

You frown, tilting your head and rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah baby, I saw.." you sighed. "Look, it's okay. You've been doing great. I watch you everyday, and you know practice makes perfect." You speak as you cling to his arm, walking alongside him. "Remember how hard it was for you to throw your bola at first? And now look at you, you're great at it."

His expression softens at the mention, earning a genuine smile. “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. Just gotta keep at it.” He walks with you, holding your hand. “Thanks, y/n." You smile, resting your head on his shoulder. "Mhm, of course. You know I got you, what kind of a girlfriend would I be if-"

"Lo'ak!" An somewhat familiar voice calls after your boyfriend, you shoot your head around to see- his.. ex? She was around the same height as you, shorter hair, braids tied back. "Áyena? Hey, what's up, what are you doing here?" Lo'ak instantly unclasped your hand as if he didn't want her to see. He walks up to the girl and gives her a handshake that soon turned into a hug. Your arms fold, tilting your head as a disgusted expression forms on your face. You scoff, watching as his manerisims completely changed.

"Hm, I hear Jake has been giving you a hard time during training," She starts. "I could give you some, pointers later on.." She flashes a shit eating grin at you, snaking her hand up to his neck. Lo'ak pushes her hand away, he mumbles "Not here" under his breath, hoping you wouldn't hear, but you still caught it.

You folded your arms in disbelief, shaking your head. "Wow.." You're at a loss for words, Lo'ak snaps out of whatever trance he was in and turns around to you. "Later, Lo.." Áyena speaks in a shallow tone, winking as she left.

“She’s just a friend..” He says after a moment, his voice quiet. He doesn’t even look at you while he speaks. "Didn't even have to ask you, huh?" He now looks at you, face screwed in guilt. "A friend, my ass. That shit she pulled speaks for itself." You huff in annoyance, walking away from him. He follows behind you “What, you don’t trust me?” Lo'ak asks, coming off overly defensive. He knows he's been found out, but of course, he won't go down without a fight. Even if he is in wrong.

You ignore him and continue strutting away, knowing that this will only agitate you more. "It was just a hug. Just listen to me, fuck!" He says from behind you, irritation growing as you give him the cold shoulder. Nothing he's saying is adding up.

Just a hug? Fuck that. You saw the way he looked at her. You knew that lust filled look, and just the thought of him going behind your back entrances your body with rage. "You know what? Fuck you, I'm leaving." He speaks huskily. It made no sense how he was getting so upset over this. He was the one who cheated on you, not the other way around.

"No, you're not!" You pull his arm and turn him around. "Tell me the fucking truth, Lo'ak! Did you fuck her? Huh?" You raise your voice at him, anger building by the minute. His face twitches, eyes stuttering to look at you. "I know that look, so just tell me. Don't fucking lie." You demand.

He yanks his arm back to escape your hold. “Áyena is my friend.” He growls, scowling. “Nothing happened.” He adds quickly. He’s so clearly lying to you, and doing a very poor job of it.

"Lo'ak. If you lie to me one more time.. you'll regret it. You, and her. I swear." You step closer, whispering a threat in his ear.

Lo’ak took you seriously this time. His expression softens in fear. He takes a breath, looking straight into your eyes, but can’t maintain the look for long, your expression is too intimidating. He looks to side, a heavy sigh falling out of his mouth as he slumps. “Fine..” You look at him, expecting the unvarnished truth this time. "Okay.. It's complicated, but-"

"It's not complicated. Did you fuck her, or not?" Your voice is stern. "Yes.. I did- fuck her." He finally admits. You sharply inhale, closing your eyes for a moment and collecting your thoughts. He looks at you with saddened eyes, worrying about what your next reaction might be.

"We're done." Just saying those words made your heart crumble. You loved Lo'ak so much, a part of you wished to forgive him. To let it all go, pretend that nothing ever happened, but you couldn't live like this, you couldn't do that to yourself.

"Y/n, I-I'm so sorry!" He sniffles, tears rolling down his face. “Tell me what you want from me,” Lo’ak please. “I’ll do whatever you want” He’s desperate to show he’s sorry. So much so that he kneels before you. “I love you, I want to be with you forever, how can I make this right?” He cries, his words broken with desperation. "Please, don’t leave. Please.."

You have to admit, he looks pathetic like this, but your heart still aches for him.

'I can't do this to myself.' you remind your consciousness.

"I'm sorry.. I can't. I'm sorry." You fight back an ocean of tears, shifting your view away from his as you back away. Ignoring the calls of your name. Your heart feels as if it's been shattered.

The walk back to your hut was silent and lonely. You tried to distract yourself from the terrible experience you've had tonight. Focusing on the rustling leaves, Fkio chirping, and bioluminescent flowers moving with the wind.

｡⁠*☆ﾟ⁠+

It's been 3 days since the breakup. You've been cooped up in your hut since then, only leaving during the dead of the night, to collect food for the next day, or bathing in the nearest cave.

You wake up in the middle of the night. Feeling groggy and exhausted. You prayed to Eywa that you'd feel even a sliver of relief, but alas, your heart is still heavy. Sitting up and throwing your blanket off your body, you sigh. After a few moments, you notice the silhouette standing in your doorway. You gasp. "What the fuck.." You whisper, standing up while your tail stays alert, flicking as the figure stays still.

The moonlight shines on the person's back, their shadow now coming into full sight. You face drops once you realize who it is, body becoming weak at the sight. "Lo'ak..?" You speak in a hushed tone. His tall form steps closer to you, pulling you close by your waist."Y/n, baby.. I'm so sorry." He's now peering down at you. Your eyes are filled with such sadness, but you avoid looking at him. No, you won't give him that satisfaction. "You need to leave.."

"Give me one more chance.." he leans his head down, giving your neck a soft kiss. You stand still, silently refusing to give in. "C'mon.." He abruptly wraps his hand around your neck, catching you off guard.

You rumble a tiny whine. But he doesn't stop his lips, infact, they only grow more intimate against your neck. Lo'ak snakes his hand to your breasts, squeezing them as he inhales a moan. "Let me make you feel good.. just.." His breath fans against your neck, you shudder. "One more chance.. I know you miss me, don't you mama?"

You felt a puddle of heat growing in your loincloth, you hated how easily wet this got you. But you couldn't lie. You did miss him. His touch, his strong arms, and the way he fucked you. "N-no.." You breathe out, fighting his eyes again. Lo'ak notices and catches your chin, forcing you to look at him.

He maintains eye contact. Undressing you with his eyes. He pulls you into a kiss. Tounge immediately slipping in your mouth, as if it's making up for lost time. Your hands wrap around his neck as you fall into the kiss, jumping onto him, legs tight around his waist.

Lo'ak grips your ass, squeezing it. He pushes you into the wall, a surprised wince comes from you. You look at him, silently pleading with your eyes.

Please, take me.

That look was all he needed. He scrambles to untie his loincloth, hard cock springing out. Veins are protruding, aching like your heart. Lo'ak moves your loincloth to the side, met with your glistening slick. "So fucking wet for me.." He huffs. Aligning his cock up to your pussy, teasing your clit while he's at it. You whimper at the friction. Without warning, he pushes himself into you.

A strained moan comes from you, he smirks with a breath. He pumps into your tight cunt, pace quick and determined. "Shit.. so tight for me," He grunts under his breath, rutting into you like no tomorrow. You squint your eyes shut, suppressing your moans. They come out as chopped breaths.

"Nah, don't hide from me baby, just- fuck.. let go for me." He tells you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You refuse, eyebrows narrow as you fight your body. "Really?" He laughs at you, now snapping his hips into you relentlessly. "Ah!" You finally moan, feeling him deeper than before. Lo'ak looks down at your pussy, watching your liquids mix with his, he notices the buldge in your stomach.

"Mnphh.. Lo'aaak!" You moan out, throwing your head back in pleasure. "Fuck, Lo'ak!" Your chest rises and falls, feeling your climax build. His head lifts at the moan of his name, hips stuttering. He's close too. You feel it. Feel his cock twitching inside.

"That's right, say my name baby.." As your back arches, your boobs bounce in his face. He rips your top off, swiftly bringing his lips to your hard nipples. Licking circles around the bud, his hand meets with your clit, rubbing up and down, angling his hips up, cock kissing your cervix.

"Haah- oh, Eywa! Right thereee, please don't stop! I'm s-so close!!" You pant and whimper. "Gonna cum!"

"M-Me too! Fuck, hold on baby. Not yet." He groans. Grinding his hips into yours, you both moan in ecstasy. Lo'ak feels your walls clench around him. "Cum at the same time. You're gonna wait for me, aren't you? Gonna be a good girl?"

"Uh huh, y-yesss!" You babble, eyes rolling back as you pant. "Tight pussy's choking me.. oh, fuck." Lo'ak tries to focus on your movements, closing him eyes.

Squeeze and release.

Squeeze and release.

Squeeze and release.

He feels the blood rushing to his cock, pupils wide as that familiar feeling builds inside of him. You feel it too, how his cock is begging for a release. You look at him. "Please, I need to cum. Please, please please pleaseee.." Your weak moans just turn him on more.

"Almost baby, almost.." He says, remaining eyes shut. You whine, not sure if you can hold back much longer. "Mmm.. ngghh, I can't, I can't-"

"Shit, now! Cum now baby, cum all over my cock!" His abrupt demand cuts you off. You obey in an instant, finally relaxing your body as your clear liquid spurts out onto him. "Fuuuck!" You cry.

His thick and warms load floods your womb, getting his last thrusts in as he moans above you. One last grunt comes from him before he pulls out.

You're completely winded. "Hey, you okay?" He asks with concern, setting you down. Your body is limp, mind empty but you respond with a low sound. "Mhmm.."

He lifts you up, placing you back on your cot, seeing how he fucked you right back to sleep made him laugh to himself.

"So glad I could make you mine again.." Lo'ak lowly whispers, softly kissing your plump lips and exiting your tent before the sun begins to rise.

[artbyace]

what pet do y’all think each marauder would have? i’ll start-

james: obvious answer is golden retriever BUT i don’t agree with this. i think james is a lil bird guy. like , cant u imagine him with a tiny little mini james chilling on his shoulder ??? just teaching him little sayings and being like OMG GOOD JOB MY SON when he says one 😭

regulus: black cat. obviously. no other option.

sirius: lizard owner. idc idc. they’re cold blooded just like him /j

remus: orange cat owner. he is 100% just like “yep this is my son he is an idiot and has no brain” energy

lily: GERMAN SHEPHERD GIRLIE. i’m so serious. like the huge black ones. she has them trained so so well they are so intelligent.

mary: A PITBULLLLL this makes so much sense to me as someone who grew up around pitbulls <3

marlene: she has a hamster. that’s it .

pandora: PANDORA IS A FERRET MUM I CANT EXPLAIN ITS JUST HER ENERGY. she has at least 2 and they’re as wild as her

pete: this man owns a frog. the silly little pac-man ones. he takes such good care of itand it bites his finger sometimes when he’s feeding it becuase it is so dumb

evan: snake owner but not like the cool, intimidating kind. he has a lil goofy corn snake named smth dumb like toe

barty: he wants to come off as tough but he saw a senior chihuahua (like marbles) in the shelter and now he dresses her up in cute lil outfits and that’s his daughter .

[savs-sims98]

The Best Surprise

Premise: Astarion comes home from hunting to hear his children expressing that their mother, Sylvannah, has been sick all morning.

Let's all be honest here. Astarion probably keeps a bun in that oven almost every year (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Astarion X OC

| 18+,fluff, new baby, smut, mentions of pregnancy, angst, breeding kink, growing family |

It was a quiet morning. The sun shone through the windows as Sylvannah stood in the kitchen cooking for their children. The sounds of cracking eggs and faint giggles could be heard coming from the living room.

As she cooked breakfast for the twins, Sylvannah did not feel completely like herself. She had woken up hours after the children had. Lilian and Aenan did not seem to mind; already making a mess of the living room for the day. As she went about her morning she noticed a familiar feeling creeping up within.

Nausea.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to feel this way. Sylvannah had always experienced stomach issues, throughout her life, but this was familiar in another sense. As she glanced back to her children as she cooked she couldn't help but be reminded of the nausea she felt when she fell pregnant with them.

Once the table was set and breakfast was laid out, the children noticed she did not sit to eat with them. Each glancing at one another suspiciously.

"Mother, are you not feeling well?" Lilian asked with a tinge of worry for her mom. She could see Sylvannah standing over the sink.

"I am fine...just the two of you do me a favor. Do not mention this to your father when he gets home."

Sylvannah walks into the living room and the children look at each other and back at their mom. Astarion and her children are not dumb; they are pretty clever. Aenan raises an eyebrow to his sister playfully starting to dig into his food.

They are definitely plotting.

_______________________

A few hours pass and Sylvannah is tidying the cottage. The children sit together on the ground reading a book. Astarion walks through the front door and the kids get up to greet him happily. He hugs each of them and then strides over to Sylvannah in the kitchen.

Astarion sees her cleaning the sink. Her hips swaying as she works, her bright red braids playing around her back. He comes up behind her and grabs hold of her hips, pulling her close, he purrs into her ear.

"Hello, my love, what are you doing?" he asks in a husky tone. Sylvannah can smell the copper scent of blood lingering on his breath.

She does not look at him. Her hands begin to work faster and more diligently. Astarion can feel the tension in her body as he holds onto her. He gently turns her body to face him grabbing her wrist to stop.

"Darling...what is wrong? he asks as the kid's heads perk up seeing what is happening in the kitchen.

"Mother threw up this morning." Aenan chirps at his father.

Astarion looks at his son and then back to his wife. Sylvannah's face is hot with blush and he can tell she's holding something back. His grip on her wrist softens as he lets go. They can both hear the children gathering some toys to head outside; giving them some alone time to chat.

It is quiet in the home before either of them speaks again. He just stands there holding onto her hips looking down at her. He is patient waiting for her to collect her thoughts. When Sylvannah finally speaks again it is almost word vomit. The words falling from her mouth without hesitation.

"Astarion...I am pregnant...at least I feel it. I woke up this morning and I did not feel all together. My body aches in familiar ways..." She looks at his face searching for his reaction.

Astarion's face softened and his ears fluttered. Blinking his eyes at her dumbfounded, but he looked thrilled. He pulls her closer to him one hand snaking around her back, the other hand placed on the small swell of her stomach. He could feel how soft she felt under his palm; yet there was a definite firmness in her womb.

"But...we didn't use your powers, we weren't even trying." He says almost above a whisper.

"I think...I did without thinking about it; I can recall a particular evening when you had me just right..." Sylvannah said as her hand ran up his chest. She looked up into his eyes with love.

_______________

Without thinking Astarion picked her up wrapping her legs around his waist. He guided her to their bedroom and shut the door. He got on the bed bringing her on top of him. Quickly his hands worked to remove her nightgown. Once she was comfortable he began to explore her naked body paying close attention to her middle.

Astarion took each hand placing them on the sides of her lower abdomen. He rubbed gently feeling her newly pregnant frame. He could see how it popped out just a bit. He could hear soft moans leave his love's lips as he used his thumbs to rub circles into her skin.

Soon, they would have another child, and he wanted to thank her. She would bring another of his babes into the world and he appreciated these gifts more than she could ever know.

"Darling...what did I do to deserve all this. To think you are ripe with my babe. Another child..." Astarion breaths out, it almost sounds like a prayer.

His hands dart down to remove his pants. Sylvannah helps guide them past his legs rubbing his thighs gently on her way back up. Once she is sat back down she can feel his need. Astarion's cock is throbbing against her and she can feel the wetness of his pre-slick on her heat. She looks at him with lidded eyes as she removes his shirt over his head. His white curls are everywhere on the pillow.

Astarion's hands move to her hips and he gently guides himself inside of her. She feels incredible. Warm against his hard cock; he can already feel how her pregnancy hormones affect her slick. His hands are all over Sylvannah's plump ass guiding her motions. Slow and gentle up and down. He wants to feel every inch of her and what he has done to his wife.

"Ahh...Astarion my gods...I love you and I am just so happy." Sylvannah exclaims through pants and whimpers.

"I love you too darling...ohh gods I can't wait to see you heavy with child again." Astarion looks up at her with all the adoration he has and one of his hands begins to rub Sylvannah's stomach. His hand moves to the very bottom cradling the new life. A moan leaves his mouth as he feels her release. She can feel his dick throb within her filling her with hot ropes.

Before lying down together on the bed Astarion takes his arm and holds onto Sylvannah exploring her swelling frame. In all his centuries he never thought he would have a family; yet here he was with his wife who would yet again give him the gift of child.

As they tumble together onto the bed Astarion holds her close, Sylvannah resting her head on his chest. She can feel the gentle rise and fall of his pleased breathing. He runs his hand down her arm and moves it under so he can reach her abdomen. He rubs it gently his eyes never leaving her.

"Sylvannah...thank you again. I really mean it when I say I am so excited and grateful to be a father three times over. You make my life feel so exciting and new every day. You are a real wonder and I am so...damn lucky I got you...ended up with all of this." Astarion pulls her up to him and kisses her hard.

He holds onto her with a new protective air over him. One that she is very used to after the other pregnancy. Astarion pulls back kisses her forehead and gently moves his body to be in eye view with her swell. He starts to plant kisses all over her stomach. Sylvannah giggled and ran her fingers through his locks. Her hand moved to rub her stomach gently feeling the kisses he was leaving. She could feel the excitement radiating off of him as he laughed into her little bump.

_____________

The rest of the day was a slow and quiet one. Once the children arrived back home they broke the news; the children were overjoyed but also not surprised. They had been begging for a sibling for a while now. Astarion and Sylvannah just sat together on the couch that day warming themselves by the fireplace. Watching Lilian and Aenan play as they talked about what their new baby might be like.

⋆｡˚🌿•✧🍼ೀ⋆｡🍞˖°🧚🏻��𖦹⋆🧸ྀི🍃✧°.

[validwarriorcatsnames]

May I request a warrior name for our scrimblo son Spencer???

He's named after the guy from Criminal Minds, but the fun part is he's actually really stupid. This dumb cat likes to lay on me and drool while he naps, despite the fact I am allergic to him. He also HATES other people, especially children, and has been known to fart at people when they make him mad (I am NOT kidding).

He also has brought multiple animals into the house [two chipmunks, a snake, three mice, a mole, a wren, the neighbor's cockatiel, several frogs, a rat, and half of a raven].

He has also been seen snuggling with the neighbor's cat (A grey tabby tomcat named Bits), and sharing his catches with him. They are gay.

Spencer will only sleep in 4 places:

1. On my chest/lap

2. On a box

3. Beside Bits (on the sidewalk/driveway)

4. The back of one specific chair

((Side note, I love my fluffy son, I slander him lovingly))

With a battle tactic like that he belongs in ThunderClan. Also, ravens are fuckin big, the only thing more impressive/horrible than bringing home a raven is what happened to tear it in half. His name is Mudface and he supports gay wrongs

[cnidocyst]

rip cohost i liked it for posting bullshit like this with no elaboration

[ID: Crude drawing of Chopper in his heavy point driving a car with Luffy in the passenger seat. Chopper, with a straight face, is saying: "Oh my god, is this your first day on Earth you dumb shit sniffer? I hope you get into a car accident so bad your loved ones don't recognize you after they recover your mangled corpse which is what you deserve for being an absolute danger to the entire road on account of your abhorrent driving skill. It's appalling, really, how easy it is for just any old ass wipe dip shit dog kissing, snake licking, dickless, hopeless son of a bitch to just get a license. Jesus fuck. Sorry about that. Luffy, can you be a dear and change the station? If I have to hear Radioactive again this week I'm going to fucking kill myself." Luffy is staring at Chopper with big surprised eyes. He's holding a cup labelled: "Biggest fucking drink ever: you will piss yourself. Luffy's sun visor is down, and it says: "If you put a baby in this chair it'll die! So don't put a baby in this chair!" on the back. Punctuation has been added to the ID for readability. /END ID]

[pboogerswbb]

Chapter 7 - DIABOLICAL EDGING

I am soooo happy you are back, it must feel SO good to have your applications out of the way. Good luck!

Wow can't believe the chapter didn't start with Kiran's funeral

I agree with Paige, the weeknd is unbearable when you are horny as fuck

"Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut." -> d'awwwwwwwww what a simp -“Can I come over to yours please?” -> see I knew immediately they were going to get interrupted because this was too good to be true!

“I’m serious. Just sex.” -> But you liiiiiiiike like her!

“Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?” -> cough cough P would marry her tonight if thats what she wanted lets be real -“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. -> NOW WERE COOKIN WITH GAS

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving. “Yes. Please.” -> wow so polite, Zari is rubbing off on her. literally.

"There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash" -> PUSSY BLOCKING BITCHES (but also awwww they came to support their girl)

“Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” -> Girl, please.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake. -> BOBBY B! THE ORIGINAL BDB

"My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her" -> Bobby is like ya, she her daddys son

"I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin." -> you write these hot moments f tension o well

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-” “Yooo…” -> KK secretly taking notes

“Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?” -> Nah her neat freak fuck buddy changed her KK

-Ok this Jasper flashback was really upsetting I don't even want to comment 😤😔

Panic Attack Paige makes me feel sad :(

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra." -> currently collecting bets on how long this 'just friends' thing will last when they are already HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE

“Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.” -> dear god woman this is so hot

“Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.” -> Zari doesn't have a problem with the nicknames when she's about to get fucked I guess

This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. -> Bitch youre the one who doesn't wanna go on a date!

"I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now." -> same girl same

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” -> OMG JUST DO IT YOU TEASE

I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her. -> wow thats all it took? she didn't even pump them yet. Zari is a down bad lesbian.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. -> this is fucking hot.

I KNEW TREY WAS TROUBLE THE SECOND WE MET HIM

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,” -> hehehehe -“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.” -> SHUT UP YOU SNAKE

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her. -> OK now you gotta be a little more discreet than this come on now

"“Is there something going on with you and Paige?” -> how about its none of your damn business buddy?

"“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”" -> Zari are you dumb why would you admit this to a coworker?

"“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”" -> Lets not make this about Linda you turd

"I had to end it." -> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO This hit like crack so happy youre back! 🦫

ILY TYSM YOU’RE MY FAVE IN THE WORLD

every comment you made about bob had me CRACKING UP not you calling him the og BDB 😭😭😭 also real bobby b <333

wanna update so it goes asap for youuuu i’m so happy to be writing 🩷🩷🩷

[onesaltybagel]

Chapter 18 is done and is at almost 11k! Which shocks me yet again because I thought it was going to be a really small chapter lmao. I don't know how I keep doing that but I'm sorry greatful for whatever god is blessing me because I really don't want to write small chapters!

Anyways, I want to place an idea out here about season 5 that I haven't seen anyone talk about yet? I dunno I'm probably just dumb and its obvious but spoilers I guess!

Ok so I know every keeps saying OH MY GOD ITS SQUIDGAME which is so funny and that's probably everyone figuring what I'm going to say which is I'm guess everyone gets trapped in the Pagoda (he is pagoda man, its in his wiki which is very sad btw like maybe dont destroy your sons grave??? He died to save you in the first place????) but I do think they'll be doing some trails in there which, oh god I'm so excited for.

If its a prison, I wonder if there's a kinda redemption thing going on in there. Their in jumpsuits, trapped in a prison forced to do trails to prove their like worthy or something? Though u doubt Li Jing is going to let them out willingly. But the potential for fics makes me rub my hands evilly.

Also one thing I keep remembering is in the lego set which is the actual pagoda it talks about whats inside. “Avoid the traps” “the 100 eyed demon is always watching” “visit Li Jing in the throne room then head up the tower and retrieve the last color stone” (is the throne room IN the pagoda or do they just have to get to the top to get out and if they fail they fall back to the bottom?)

But the thing im most interesting in is in the middle of the description it just says “Hi nüwa!” JUST THAT JSHSJSH which is very funny to me but putting that aside why is Nüwa in the pagoda?

If its a prison to trap demon and monsters, what did Nüwa do to get put in there?

And does it involve her creation of Mk?????

FREE OUR SNAKE MOTHER

[metalgearstranding]

Hi hi hope you don't mind me ranting about Ocelot a bit cause I didn't want to clog up tags of that one post and I love talking about the kitty man.

I assume they meant privileged as in. well I always assumed he is a bit of a rich boy, honestly. Like, his upbringing must have been horrible in terms of what and how he's been taught, but he obviously has a good education and training that the Philosophers (or whoever it was that trained him, with his distaste for them I'm assuming it's them) put a lot of time and money in. How harsh was said training is open to interpretation, but they definitely didn't want him harmed enough to not be able to get the job done AND think for himself. He knows many languages, is really skilled, got a position of Major and his own unit that answers only to him at a very young age too. I think there is an mgs3 call that implies part of it was because Volgin knew he's The Boss's son. So like, special treatment and all.

I don't think it in any way takes away from how miserable his childhood must have been though. I just can't shake away the idea of him looking at some regular every-day item and going well how much can it be? Hundred dollars??

Oh yeah, of course, I always assumed the same thing. So yes, you're right, in that way he'd be totally privileged. And maybe part of Ocelot's refusal to indulge in self-pity is him recognizing that he just can't because he knows he was lucky?

I guess I got tunnel vision-ed on this one, because I'm aware of this aspect of his life and the ways it must have influenced him, but to me it really doesn't weigh much in the balance? All I see when I think of his life is what was taken away from him, his freedom and his loved ones.

But also, I think that in a way, his real privilege are his genetics lawl I bet he's highly educated, but that doesn't count for shit if you're dumb as a brick, and to me it's obvious that Ocelot is just naturally gifted. He's scarily intelligent and he learns quickly, and he's eager to learn and get better too. He got lucky enough to get the basics, but I'd say that he as owes who he is primarily to being self-taught. I don't think anybody taught him his fancy gun tricks, and although the idea of his mother teaching him a few moves in Groznyj Grad is heartwarming, I think he just really learned some CQC just by watching Snake and his mom.

So yeah. But I do really love the idea of Ocelot as snobbish and having expensive tastes lmao The guy really is a creature of duality (I don't believe in astrology but he really do be a gemini XD), and the materially privileged aspect of him clashing with his far west aspirations is one of my favorite things about him.

[ardenrosegarden]

In contrast, chronicle evidence provides examples of loving or happy marriages. Orderic Vitalis tells of many affectionate couples, with wives longing for their husbands’ return. Even Abbot Suger characterized aristocratic marriage as emotionally invested. When Guy of La Roche-Guyon was assassinated at the behest of his kinsmen, his wife, "struck dumb at seeing this, . . . tore her cheeks and hair with wifely fury. She ran over to her husband and, caring nothing for death, tumbled down and covered him with her body. 'Me,' she said, 'Behead me, you vilest of butchers, I am the most miserable wretch that should die.' Having thrown herself on top of her husband, she received blows and wounds inflicted by the swordsmen. 'Dearest spouse, what wrongs did you these men? Weren’t this son-in-law and father-in-law inseparable friends? What is this madness? You people are complete maniacs.' Twisting her by the hair, they dragged her away struggling as best they could, for she was stabbed and wounded over nearly her whole body. . . . While the murderers roamed about gnashing their teeth, the woman lay on the floor and, lifting up her piteous head, looked upon the mutilated body of her husband. In an outburst of love which her weakness hardly allowed, she slid along like a snake, dragging her own completely bloody body up beside the lifeless corpse. As if he were alive, she gave him as many sweet kisses as she could." This example is even more extraordinary given the fact that Guy’s assassins were his wife’s brothers, meaning that this noblewoman stood up for her husband against her natal family.

-Amy Livingstone, Out of Love for My Kin: Aristocratic Family Life in the Lands of the Loire, 1000–1200