#my little brain worm finally formed its thought into this

[feral-bunny31]

Ok ok ok ok so I’ve been reading a few fics/prompts of Danny Phantom having to declare war on the living (he’s ghost king ofc) and I’ve had an idea slowing forming in my head with each one I’ve read and it’s just how I’d envision that scene happening and I need to get it out so here goes (putting it below the cut bc idk how much I’m going to write) how it leads up to this, your choice if you see this and decide to write more/around it. Ok here goes:

They had 13 hours left of the 3 days King Phantom, High King of the Dead, Defeater of the Dark, Son of Time, The In-between, The Balance, The All Star, had given them. 13 hours. 13. The number of the dead, ironic really that that was the amount left.

He gave them 3 days to dismantle the Ghost Investigation Ward, to release their prisoners, his people. 13 hours left and they couldn’t get them to yield their ways. To give up and break up and release the dead they had tortured. King Phantom, no older than 18, gave them a warning and they were failing. War was coming and King Phantom warned them he and his infinite army of the lost souls of this plane and the in betweens were going to march.

It was his final choice to be made in his existence. His last option. His espoir perdu. He didn’t want to do this, he hated doing this but he had to and everyone saw it as his warning was broadcasted onto every possible screen in the United States.

2 hours. They had 2 hours left and they were giving up. Trying to get as many people to safety and shelter as they could. They needed to get the civilians to hide. Gods, there was only an hour left.

And as they watched the sky above Illinois- of all places- shatter and breaks like glass they saw the King emerge as the final seconds ended.

He was stone faced, no one behind him as he stood, floating in the shattered rift of the realms, the portal green. So so green. Swirling like hypnosis. Black armor draped over his body, a sword held tight, white knuckled at his side, a crown of burning ice drifting close to his head. His face was set, cold to those that see him that don’t know him. Expression hard except for the minute furrow of his brow, seen only by those that know him, that see who he is, white hair whipping softly around his face, casting shadows over his green eyes. Oh his eyes. They were the only thing able to show what was going through his mind. They held so much.

Years of experience, of pain, of loss, of suffering and sadness. Of struggling to be heard, to fight for his people and those of this earth. To keep the peace but save what he can in this destructive world. His eyes held so much words didn’t exist to tell what all they showed.

Calmly, slowly, deathly, his sword arm rose. Rose high above his head and fell. Fell until it was straight out, a signal that the war had begun.

Thousands of souls poured out of the portal, though they spared the citizens around not a single glance. They were vaguely human, some just skeletons, some races long since extinct. They only had eyes for the buildings that were beginning to scream. The voices of their prisoners rising until every single one of the Ghost Investigation Ward’s buildings rang with the rage and hurt and pain of those souls.

The army, still pouring from the crack between realms, only targeted those buildings. Flooding the United States searching for those buildings. Men in white suits poured out of the buildings. Raising weapons to the army and unloading everything they had, uncaring of the civilians they hit and the homes and jobs they destroyed, killed.

Then they noticed it, Phantom on the front lines, defending and protecting the civilians as he tore his way through the men in white, Agents they called themselves. Giant frozen Yetis came with him, tending to the wounded he had protected. They creates shelters and barriers of ice to take the wounded and heal them. Bandage them and cover the dead with soft sheets.

The army avoided and even blocked their enemies fire from hitting those shelters, from hitting the homes and jobs as best they could while still fighting. They were angry, rage filled that the Agent cared so little about civilians, all in the name of “getting rid of those ecto scum”

King Phantom and his army fought for 3 days, wiping out any Agent and their buildings that ever existed. Freed his people and made sure they returned safely to the realm of the dead, the Infinite Realms, before he and his army slowly worked on restoring the damaged buildings of the civilians. He gave the dead proper care, tending to the souls that had come back, sending them the portal after they said goodbye to their family.

And when all was said and done, he collapsed, beaten and bloody, into the arms of a god, a being that shifted ages, a clock shoved into his chest, was his chest, and sobbed. Sobbed for all the lives taken, even of the Agents. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want this death and destruction. He wanted peace, for his people and for the living. He was Balance! Why couldn’t he have brought balance peacefully? Why couldn’t he stop this from happening? He tried! Tried so hard to keep this from being a choice. He hated that he had to make this decision.

When everything was restored the best they could and wounded were healed and dead buried, King Phantom gathered his people, entered the rift between realms, and closed it. The one vision of the sky shattering like glass reversing and piecing itself back together, and the army of souls was gone.

Ok how’d I do? Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Please let me know! I love the feedback

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[starr-matterr]

♡̵♥︎♡̵̵"All you wanna do...is see me turn into...a giant woman!" ♡̵♥︎♡̵̵

This is gonna be my first ever fanfic and its for hsr😭😭

Its probably gonna be ass but I need to get this out of my head actually.

No use of y/n. reader is called "You"

Only like 2 characters r mentioned by name you'll understand that later

I know little to nothing abt hsr so alot of this might just be brain worms.

Idea credit to @eternityofend they r so silly for this idea go follow them plz

You were a unique Aeon, however, thoroughly confusing all who had studied you. You weren't callous and cruel like other Aeons, in fact You took a great pride in putting your all into caring for your followers and all around you. You were utterly perfect in their eyes.

Which Is why they were so confused when it came up to researching you. Your kindness and passion towards all you deemed good was well documented but one thing was not. Your appearance. You seemed to only appear to your followers in dream-like states. To your dear acolytes, You were a complete mystery, those few who did happen to see you only recalling how utterly loved they felt. They could only vaguely describe what they believed was You with statments varying each time.

It stayed that way for a long time as the seasons passed and sightings of You dwindled. Everything seemed so bleak without You, the greenery seemed to dull, the once colorful skies seemed to darken, and it could be felt by everyone.

Especially those blessed by you, most importantly, the Trailblazer. The Trailblazer always had a unique connection to You, often hearing your velvety voice for fleeting moments or seeing visions of You in dreams.

They had grown accustomed to your presence, even if you weren't physically there. When they had come to the realization that you were pulling away from your loyal, devoted acolytes they didn't take it well.

What had they done to forsake you? Why were You abandoning your Trailblazer?!?

They had moped around for weeks, delivering offerings to your shrines spread about the planets You had forged by hand out of love for your creations.

Without your guidance they began to spiral. Getting a little too rough with enemies, not tending to their own injuries after battles, often staring off into space, they were losing it. They needed you.

It wasn't until they had finally reached their breaking point until they heard it. A giggle, that laugh that would make all their worries wash away. Their breath hitched in desperation before they the thought of you out of their mind. You couldn't be back could you?

Then they heard it again. They didn't know why but they started running. It was if their body knew where to go but their mind didn't. They didn't know why they were running, You had never appeared in physical form yet.

They ran in the direction of your voice before hastily stumbling upon You. My were You a sight for sore eyes. The Trailblazer paused as they took in every inch of You, committing every last bit of you to memory, just incase this really was psychosis. You were sat in what seemed to be some large plains as your acolytes swarmed You like small bees.

You let out a chuckle at how adorable they all looked and how much they had grown since you last saw them. They were still so small and so needy but you loved every bit of them. Your acolytes peppered You with questions, praise, and presents as You gretted them all.

Sometimes you'd even let them crawl into the palm of your hand so you could get a better look at them. The person in question currently receiving this treatment being none other than March 7th. As she stared at You with star-struck eyes You couldn't help but giggle.

You continued to play with your acolytes before seeing the Trailblazer. You beckon them over with a smile, one the Trailblazer hadnt seen in months now.

As they approached You gently set March down, as to not hurt her before turning to the Trailblazer. Sensing how tense they were You brush a gentle finger through their hair as if anything harsher could crush them. As you pet their hair they seem to melt into your touch, making you laugh at their content smile.

You weren't expecting this. You expected your acolytes to be intimidated, scared even. You were white large and you could decimate them in seconds. That didn't seem to phase them as they chattered amongst themselves about larger temples and bigger offerings.

They just had to find a fitting celebration for your return, lest you take their hesitation as ungratefulness and devoid them of your presence again.

The trailblazer seemed to be keeping you company as the others made preparations for a mighty celebration in your name. As you patted their head their breaths were shaky as they professed their unbreakable loyalty to You.

It spooked you a bit. You didn't know your dear trailblazer could be so passionate, as You had only really been around them when they needed truly needed support or answers.

You didn't stop them however, You believed they needed to get this off their chest to sooth themselves.

You turn your gaze away from the Trailblazer for a moment, still allowing them to nuzzle into your fingers as long as they avoided your sharp nails. Now that you had a physical form you should probably file them down. You didn't want to harm your acolytes did you?

Your gaze falls upon the small crowd starting to form as they stare up at You. You flash them a charming smile, melting their hearts and making their minds feel fuzzy as you do.

That doesn't stop them from glaring daggers at the Trailblazer however. Just what was so special about them that your other acolytes couldn't do?

Their little angry faces were adorable to You. You just couldn't stop yourself from 'Aww'-ing at them!

Their heart skips a beat as hear it. Did you belive they were..cute? they feel all of those sleepless nights filled with extensive research on your disappearance was worth it. You swear You heard someone in the crowd offer You their newborn.

'This will be eventful.' You think to yourself as cou continue tending to your acolytes. Your heart swelling with unbridled joy.

UH YEAH.

My first fanfic done yippiee yippiee

Can you tell i haven't got past the tutorial of hsr because my phone is ass or naw be honest☹☹☹

Might put out a part 2 if the brain worms become too much idk

Also please tell me if I did anything wrong or something is misspelled or misused just dont throw pebbles at me for it thx!!!

YALL I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS EARLIER IM GONNA RIP MY FACE OFF AUGHHG.

[phlurrii]

I cannot sleep and I am curious about your take on this random conundrum I am faced with that I was wondering your take on because I love how you are able to depict dynamic movement and action in your art and animations.

So, I absolutely LOVE it when the typically cutesy being that is Mew is depicted as a feral godly beast and I am so utterly in love with Meau’s truly powerful design. An absolute apex predator. However, my brain is hung up on a frustrating detail. If they weren’t floating everywhere all the time how would they like… prowl? Or chase down something. They’ve got these nubby little arms and these looooong legs.

Like. I’m trying SO hard to imagine something that could anatomically work because as eery as floating can be there’s something satisfying about feeling in the weight of a creature through its gait. But all I can picture with their body shape is…hopping. Just a murderous psychic kangaroo cat god bounding towards something but like…It’s kind of silly? I’m sure irl that would probably be absolutely terrifying to see a kangaroo bouncing at you with malicious intent but… it’s hard to picture it as an intimidating movement.

The slow predatory prowl or the fast thumps of heavy clawed paws of something huge and large sharp teeth that quadrupeds have is so a satisfying in a heart racing way. I WANT a Mew or Mew-ish creature to be able to have that vibe while connected to the earth that but then I look at those LONG footers and nub paws and I…I’m left feeling like it’s not possible.

Even for Meau like…their arm to leg ratio…I don’t think it’s possible to run on all 4s. Naruto-run sure. Absolutely. All the mews and twos can Naruto run and kangaroo-hop with them leggies…but none of them move with the “tiger on the hunt in the forest” vibes. I want to make something close to that but I keep making something too permanently quadrupedal in anatomy.

Sorry for the tired brain rambling I just my brain won’t let me sleep because of it’s “How would Meau run down their prey on foot” thoughts sending me in a spiral.

You see- you see, I have the same. Exact, brain worms. Constantly.

When I made the Ancient mew, I wanted something feral, a physical threat. That happens to be psychically able to obliterate you as a side treat. In my earliest comics, I tried so hard to demonstrate she was a power house, so much so her mega evolution is entirely just… that. A massive, wall of steel. Meau tore those scientists limb from limb, literally, with her jaw. Even in mew form, she bitch slapped a nidoking with her tail and kangaroo kicked a persian. She could’ve just shadowballed them, sure, but I want that weight. That feral energy, that sense of an unstoppable force, meeting an immovable object, except it’s just one cat and they are about to flatten you.

As her design has clearly evolved, I’ve tried to make alterations that fit this feeling, that vibe of apex predator no matter the size. She’s larger then average because she’s a threat, she’s more muscular because she’s a threat, her tail is thicker, packed with said muscle because she’s a threat, her front paws are meaty and girthy because She’s. A. Threat. Her entire mega evolution is just amping up that primal energy of raw, unadulterated strength. That’s why I made it, it was my first freaking thought after I designed her XD

I was actually caught between animating a younger Meau acting like a mew or an current Meau acting like a threat. I went with younger Meau cuz we don’t see a lot of her and she’s about to come up with Noe’s arc. So if you sent me this lovely and viciously relatable brain dump 3 days ago, I probably would’ve swayed to animate feral meau XD

But, to answer your question, yes. She can absolutely hunt you down on all fours and disembowel you with her jaw, she is that untamed, wild concentration that kills with a sleek efficiency fellow gods fear. And! At the end of our current arc we’ll finally get that secondary typing reveal I’ve had planned since April XD

[floreatetona]

Have a Pirate Fairy fanfic bc I can't be fucked to clean my room. James x Zarina, suggestive.

James had always been a little too good at pretending he was happy. Par for the course, considering his history. Even now, as he ran a brush through his captain's hair, he was surely faking that same, happy grin on his face. The smile curled up so naturally, his big eyes gazed so softly, and his brow knitted, tenderly, just enough to show his... care... for his dear captain, Zarina. And it was care, technically. Although, perhaps, it is a word to be used delicately. The word felt dangerous, like a silk ribbon uncomfortably tight around his throat. No, while he admitted she was at least enchanting and beautiful, in truth, James found that he nearly hated her. This care was less a care of love and friendship, but more akin to the care of a hunter. The cautious tracing of fingers over the dirt tracks of prey, as his own fingers traced her freckles. The precise timing of breathing as to listen for movement, as he himself tried to still his own fluttering heart. The hungry, unblinking watching and waiting to strike, as he himself pondered his options. And, of course, that final pounce, that fatal sinking of teeth, the care of one eating and spilling as little as possible, as James himself finally hinted at his own hungry, deadly devotion.

"Captain? May I say... if it's not too bold..." he paused as he set down his brush, carefully forming his thoughts as he began braiding her almond hair. Zarina, frankly lost in the relaxing grooming, finally opened her eyes with a hum.

"What is it?" She yawned. Her hazel eyes fluttered as her brain shifted its focus. It proved difficult: this body ached, and his touch felt so safe and soothing and easy. As easy as drawing a blanket up to your chin in the cold. As easy as being at home. But when it did refocus, she noticed his face, his smile, had finally come back. That same sweet smile he always wore, but it carried something different lately. No doubt that was her fault; the past few days had been a lot to take in. Her discovery of the wishing dust, her sudden growth and humanity, the setbacks in the search for blue dust; this was the first real moment alone they'd had in almost a week. Only days ago, everything had been normal. She was still tiny, and they still talked every night... and she was still confused as to why he wouldn't just sleep here in the cabin as he always had before. He looked so shocked, almost angry that day. He hadn't acted sad or disappointed, but everything had been so tense. Perhaps tonight was a good time to ask... Him first, for now.

"James?" She cooed, catching herself fearing his unusual silence.

How just like her, how haughty a yawn, with that honey drowned voice she put on whenever she spoke to him in private. She treated him with such matter of fact tenderness, such infuriating distance most of the time. How he hated that. But he swallowed that hate, chasing it with a little of his pride and an actual nervous gulp, because he needed tonight to go smoothly. His plan had been the same from the beginning, ever since this prissy little pixie demanded that she be the captain of these hopeless sods. Gain her trust, let her do all the work and magic and research while he acted as the real voice of command, plant the seeds of mutiny, wait, tear her down the moment the blue dust works, and plunder the world below in an uncatchable ship. But after this week? No, after this long, long year? ....how dare she be anything but an obstacle in his way. How dare this little cunt worm her way into his head. ...Into is chest...

His brown eyes faked shyness and flicked away from hers. Only his fingers, hurrying to clasp off the braid, gave away a clue of his real agitation. Tonight, he needed to know how exactly he could alter his plans. Was all still as it was, or was it now smarter to remain at the right hand? Would the mutiny still hold water, and if not, how then would he get rid of her? He looked up again to speak, but Zarina, infuriatingly, cut him off.

"Really quick though, you're sleeping in here again tonight, right?"

"I-.... pardon?"

"You've been sleeping in a broom closet for like three days. That can't be comfortable! You always sleep in here."

No... no fucking way that she was actually asking such a thing. And so casually!

"W-well this new... body is ...much to adjust to. I'd imagine. I ... took the initiative and assessed that perhaps you needed to um..." The unseen silk ribbon tightened. "Take some time to get in touch with this... new you!" His smile grew crooked and embarrassed as his eyes lowered in secondhand shame. She always made him feel like a fool, but THIS was a new emotion altogether. Not knowing what to do with his hands, or any of himself, he clasped the back of her chair to lean slightly. A poor attempt at seeming nonchalant while panic bit him every time his knuckles brushed her speckled skin.

"You dont know the half of it. I was prepared for the crazy scale change but the dizziness? I don't think it's even really gone, haha." Zarina let herself relax again, not at all aware of the tension in the room. She picked up her cigar from the vanity and took a long drag, but her eyes caught him in the mirror. He allowed his face to rest into a more honest expression. Drops of fear, anguish, uncertainty, and irritated confusion bled from his thinned lips like an overfull bowl. What's his deal, she thought, her own fear rearing its head, does he ...does he not like that I'm human now? But Zarina was too comfortable to spiral in negative thoughts. And she trusted that, as always, hed be honest with her.

"But I can't help but notice that you act... different now. No sugar coating it, you hate this new size, dont you?" With a smile, she lifted the cigar as an offering. James blinked at it, nearly caught off guard before quietly taking the roll in his fingers. He could only stare at the lipstick stain rung around it for a moment, trying his best to ignore his tumultuous brain growling like a mad, starving stomach. Then, a sharp breath, like a tiger hearing a snap of twigs and hooves; a gnawing growing violent in his chest, an idea that had electrocuted his mind the moment he caught his fingers tracing the freckles of her shoulders. Tonight, perchance, he very well could taste the meal for which he starved. He finally let his smile fall.

"That couldn't be farther from the truth, captain." He took a drag of the Jamaican roll, lips pressed exactly along where shed left her lipstick like a first drink of precious water. Then he sighed, presenting it back to her with the respect of a waiter bringing out the wine. She took it back and gaffawed.

"Yeah? You're all depressed because you just adore the new look? Right. That makes sense." She took another drag through mocking teeth and turned around in her chair, watching him walk over to the window side of the bed. She had no idea that he'd mentally called her a bitch at the comment. She probably had no idea that his hands had started shaking.

"No it is the truth, captain." He sat down and shifted as to rest an elbow on a propped up knee. At once he played up his saccharine meekness, that gentlemanly bashfulness that would surely draw his hunt closer.

"I want things to be as they were... and I adore our friendship. But...." a nervous glance, a deep breath. "But it was easy to merely play my part when you were a fairy. I never had a chance to be yours, merely your lowly cabin boy. Even if I had a chance to be... to call you mine... our sheer difference would never had let things work." A heavy silence fell over the cabin, and he locked eyes with his now startled captain.

" But now... now there is no such difference. And what's worse, you... " he couldn't bear to look at her for such an embarrassing confession. James turned almost his whole body to the windows. "I'm only a man." He pleaded. "And you are more beautiful to me now than you ever were." He'd been taught by the best; a woman can be tricked into anything, with the trap of one's own vulnerability. But all the same, a terror gripped him. Bastard opportunist though he was, deep down, he really was quite shy. That's why he nearly jumped when he felt the mattress shift.

"Mine? Your- hum. So that's what this is all about." She'd put out the cigar and slid from the chair to the edge of the four posted queen. She nervously fiddled with the new braid in her hair and crossed her legs under her cotton shift. For a moment, the tension returned in full force before finally, the spell was broken.

"James-"

"I know, I know. I forget myself." He stood from the bed and began his duty straightening up the room. "But I can keep no secrets from my captain now, can I?" Whether this was part of his game or whether he had talked himself out of the idea was totally unclear even to him. Hungry as he was, he couldn't afford to drop his act, and he only now considered the possibility of rejection, a possibility that repulsed him.

"James -"

"As for um.. well if you want me to sleep in here I can, perhaps if I may have a pillow-"

"JAMES." A firm hand pounced and locked onto his arm, startling him more than her sudden bark. The pair locked eyes, hers fierce, his scared and hungry, and she forcefully pulled him closer. She was only as tall as his chest, and as she sat on the bed she was even shorter to him still. But in spirit, in authority, she towered over him. His anger flared again, but not as boldly or as bright as his anxiety...or his excitement. Her hand released his arm, only to slowly draw down and clasp his strong, trembling hand. No act could hide his hitching breath.

"James?"

"...y-Yes? ..Captain?"

"Why do you think of all the things I could have wished for..." her face shifted from sternness to a smug, sly smile. "I choose to wish for this?"

"...............................ah"

The statement peirced his brain like an arrow of lightning, or like a dinner bell. For a moment, he was too shocked to even act, but then, oh then, he was almost too ravenous to think. Almost. James closed his eyes and let out a deep and shaky sigh before falling gracefully to a kneel, so dizzy from her revaluation that he dared to rest his forehead on her knees. He couldn't stop the chuckles that bubbed up from within him. She wanted this (wanted HIM!!!) and he had her right where he fucking wanted her; the table was set for a feast. He hadn't let go of her hand, clasping it with both of his as to uphold what little of his coy act that he could in this state. And after he'd wrestled back control of himself, he finally looked up and swallowed, smiling ear to ear.

"Well, well..." his breath fell heavily like a lion dragging off its kill. "I suppose you don't have any... new orders for me?"

"Orders? No." Zarina smugly leaned back, a king on a throne, amused at the dinner layed before her, and those big brown eyes just begging for a taste. She giggled wryly and spread her legs apart. "But I do have a few ideas..."

And then they fuck. The end. Goodnight.

[star-going-supernova]

Got an idea and I'm interested in seeing what you do with a prompt like this.

FNAF SB is definitely future time, so the digital world implants are actually more common than just private Fazbear Tech. So Gregory already has his own chip (that he uses to play games on mostly) when he gets stuck in the Pizzaplex, and being the little gremlin he is, he hacked it to allow him access to V.A.N.N.I. network and all the shenanigans he can do with it without needing a full mask.

This is a sci-fi sort of AU where implants just exist and are pretty common, and they have a variety of uses, one of which includes using similar “short cuts” as seen through the mask in Ruin. 

The Tormenting of Moon

Moon growled and lunged for Gregory for the fifth time in as many minutes, but Gregory only laughed and, from Moon’s perspective, passed straight through a section of netting on the play structure. Safe on the other side, Gregory cried, “Too slow again!” 

He took off into the twisting halls of colorful plastic and foam, delighting in Moon’s howl of frustration. 

“How are you doing that?” Moon shouted with his raspy, glitchy voice. 

“It’s not my fault if you can’t figure it out!” 

To be fair to Moon, Gregory having an implant wouldn’t be anyone’s first thought. Legally speaking, a person had to be sixteen or older to have a permanent one surgically grafted to their brain stem. And the removable types for anyone younger or those who didn’t want an internal chip were usually in the form of glasses, masks, and visors—none of which Gregory had. 

So, to Gregory, Moon wasn’t an idiot for not catching on. But he was maybe a bit naive and unobservant. The scar on the back of Gregory’s neck wasn’t exactly subtle and neat and professionally done—rather, it was raised and jagged and far bigger than a real doctor would ever make for a chip placement. 

But hey, there was a black market for everything, even if you were only twelve years old. And implants were too handy for Gregory not to make use of.

Switching his perception back and forth between Standard and Network, Gregory wove through the play structure, always keeping well ahead of Moon’s grasping fingers. He’d always enjoyed a challenge, and this was pretty low-stakes for a chase. Like a slightly more intense game of tag. This wasn’t dangerous; it was fun. 

“Missed me, missed me!” he crowed, diving into the opening of a slide. He took the curves at high speed and shot out into the ball pit. Gregory quickly wormed his way to the bottom of the pit and did his best to slither along without making too much of a racket. With his implant, and the upgrades he helped himself to early on in the night, he tapped into the security cameras in the daycare. 

The night vision mode worked perfectly. He switched between views a few times before finding Moon. The animatronic was stalking back and forth along the edge of the ball pit, looking not unlike a cat who had lost its prey. He half expected Moon to dive headfirst into the pit like a fox into snow. 

Deeming himself far enough away from his pursuer, he carefully slinked up to the surface, only just barely poking out. The darkness provided helpful cover, and the obnoxious music masked the quiet rattling of plastic. 

He threw a ball as hard as he could, and a moment later, it clattered loudly on the other side of the pit. The shadow that was Moon ducked toward it, giving Gregory a chance to take up a more defensible position, tucked in a corner. 

And then, because he was an awful child, he carefully started tossing balls over the edge and into the rest of the daycare. They landed near silently on a padded mat and proceeded to roll down it to make quite a mess. Every now and then, he threw another decoy elsewhere in the pit to draw Moon’s attention, as he was currently swimming through the ball pit like a gangly shark. 

This went on for some time, and Gregory had to pause more and more often to smother his laughter into his shirt. 

Finally ready to reap the rewards of his troublemaking, Gregory boosted himself up onto the ledge and loudly declared, “Wow, what a mess!” 

Moon got as far as leaping to his feet in an explosion of plastic balls before he was rendered still and speechless, horrified by the disarray of his daycare. Over a hundred plastic balls lay scattered around the floor. 

His programming demanded he clean up. In his head, Sun wailed with the need to return order to their domain. Moon himself wanted nothing more than to wring the neck of the menace responsible. His head twitched and sparked. 

Cackling, Gregory climbed up a slide with little windows carved in the sides, and there he camped out to watch the animatronic have a mental break down. 

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (The Final Chapter)

Gale x Tav (OC F)

The final chapter. The defeat of the Netherbrain, the docks, the Chionthar. 2 epilogues. The first is the "canon" happy ending. The second is the one I prefer but decide for yourselves.

((I'm going to add a long blurb of thanks here. And some of my own unwanted backstory.

Nana was created for a DnD game back in 2021. A year when everything for me went to shit and I had a nervous breakdown. Her aversion to touch reflected my own insecurities with it, Thomas was the self-destructive tendencies which I clung to so desperately, her 5 years in the past was my 2021 as I lost myself to my mental health. Either way, this story was written as a reflection of all that happened and the friends that helped pull me out of it (despite all the struggles that came in that area).

But yeah, thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed the story. It's meant a lot, especially with this being the first fic I've ever written. So again, thank you, thank you, thank you.))

Ao3 Link

Nana fell onto the Netherbrain, her slight changeling form hitting the flesh beneath her. “Ooo squishy…”

“Tormentum!” Gale fired off a barrage of magic missiles at the mind flayer that loomed over her. “Nana, pull yourself together!” The battle so far had been intense, fighting their way through the High Hall, taking down cultists, ghouls and mindflayers and they’d had little time to recuperate before the final stages came. Now they bided their time as their own mindflayer ally opened the last portal giving them access to their foe. Gale ran to her, helping her from the ground where the enemy had shoved her.

“Thanks,” she said, wiping the ichor from her armour before leaning around him and firing an arrow past him into a tentacle that had suddenly emerged. “This is fun, right?” He could see how light her eyes were and the way her lips curved as she saw the arrow hit.

He looked at her in confusion but then a smile crept on his face. “Hardly the verbiage I would choose, my love.”

The portal erupted into view and the group sprinted for it ready to face the brain, the hardest part they had to overcome. Gale still thought of the orb, of that final choice he would have to make if things began to go badly for them. They continued to fight valiantly leaping between the plates that barely held in place around the brain. He could see the wear and tear of Astarion’s armour, the bruises on Shadowheart’s face, and again the choice presented itself to him. If this is what is needed, then so be it. 

“Pew pew!” Nana dived past him firing arrows at the brain, his thoughts interrupted. Does she even realise where we are right now? He felt his head throb as the Netherbrain attempted to dominate the tadpoles they carried within. “Tormentum!” Another collection fired in the direction of the brain. Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. 

It was a spell from the Shadowheart that was the final nail in the coffin, causing the Netherbrain to cry out in agony. He heard its voice within his head pleading with them to surrender or work alongside it but the mindflayer accompanying them ordered them to kill it. Gale stood with the crystals, looking at the Netherbrain in front of him, knowing only one thing; He needed to get the crown. He commanded with authority for the Netherbrain to destroy all the tadpoles and itself, immediately feeling intense pain in his skull, the worm withering away to nothingness. 

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

Nana watched as Gale made the order, her cheeks flushing a little at the sight. Oh, he is nice when he’s in charge… She bit her lip and then grimaced before crumpling to the ground in pain. She clenched her eyes shut, hoping for it to end and as it did, she looked up seeing the crown shatter into pieces before falling out of sight.

She looked down into the water. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. No Thomas, no tadpole, just the ramblings of her own mind. Jam, cushions, Gale. Going to be a fun night. And then there was a new sensation, one she had never experienced before, falling a large distance. 

She felt the wind in her hair, savouring the moment before she hit the cold water beneath. A strange feeling overtook her as struggled to stay afloat, her arms growing weaker against the current, water entering her lungs. She could see the light above the surface but her mind kept drifting away from her, willing for sleep to take her. It was only as Astarion grabbed her pulling her upwards and the air entering her lungs again that she realised what had happened. She gasped for breath as she was pulled up onto the docks, coughing up mouthfuls of water. “I need to… learn how to swim.”

Astarion stood up next to her wringing out the water from his clothes. “Darling, you need to learn so much more before swimming.” 

She felt Gale’s hand on her back, rubbing gently, and looked up to him with a smile. “We made it…”

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

Gale walked along the docks indulging in the sensation of finally having his mind to himself again. He thought over the crown and where it was within the water, how he would find it and reforge it, and whether he was still willing to hand it over to Mystra as she had ordered of him. He looked over at Nana as she removed her soaked leather armour revealing her cotton shirt underneath, her pale skin moist with droplets of water. She shook her head, spattering Astarion, and Gale watched as he chastised her for it, her laughing at his temper. Is godhood worth losing all this?   

It was as her smile faded that his attention moved to what she had seen. Karlach stood on the edge of the docks, the flames of her skin licking higher. She’d spoken little of her affliction to him throughout their travels, but he knew what was happening as Shadowheart ran towards her with concern on her face. He watched, unable to hear the words they spoke to one another as Karlach burnt hotter and brighter than any of them had seen previously, his mind racing, looking for solutions. An ice blast, the water around us. All other options except the one he knew she was against. It was Wyll who shouted past him about Avernus, the reluctance showing on her face as she heard the words, but Shadowheart managed to convince her to see sense. 

They had no time to say goodbye to the trio before they fled through the portal, the heat of Karlach’s flames becoming too much for any of them to handle. Nana stood next to him, a tearful and shocked look on her face. 

Astarion came closer towards them both with a smirk. “Well, loves, I guess it’s just our merry- ow!” He flicked his wrist as if he had been bitten by an insect. Gale saw how his skin began to smoke, the delicate fingertips of his hands cracking into a soft blue. “What the - oh gods. Oh no.” The sunlight.

Nana's panic was clear to see as she watched how Astarion fled across the docks, his abilities being altered by the absence of the tadpole. “We have to go after him!” she called to Gale, before beginning to run.

Gale reached an arm out stopping her progress. “There’s little point. There’s nothing we can do for him.”

“Maybe not, but he’s our friend. We can’t just leave him alone out there,” she pleaded with him. In mere moments she had lost over half of the people who had ever come to care for her, leaving only him alone with her. “We have to find him. Please, Gale.”  

You’re right. The crown can wait. He gave a small nod and together they ran off in the direction they had seen Astarion flee.

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

It had been over one hundred years since Astarion had felt the sun last burn his skin, a cruel torture technique that Cazador had used a few times for entertainment. But over the last few weeks, he had forgotten the feeling of it, the sting and then the pain that followed. He ran to the shadows, glad for the layer of dust in the air that blocked the sun’s direct rays from burning him up instantly. He crawled into himself, the days of those small beams prickling at his skin flashing in his mind, and he closed his eyes, willing them away, trying to work out his route to the Underdark where he would have to continue on alone.

What Astarion had not expected was to feel someone sit next to him as he sat alone behind the crates. He lifted his head and sat in confusion seeing Nana with him. After all they had been through, how he had treated her, and distrusted her so much. She still refused to abandon him like so many others had before. “He’s here, Gale,” she yelled out into the air.

Astarion didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want anyone to see him in this condition, with his face burnt by the sun, and his clothes tattered and torn. He buried his face in his knees again to shield himself from her view. As he spoke, his voice was quiet, more vulnerable than he would have liked, “Leave me alone.”

She said nothing but he didn’t feel her move. He heard Gale’s steps on the stone beside him and felt as he sat too. I don’t want their concern. He wanted to shout for them to leave again, he wanted his strength back, he wanted the sun, but they chose to never leave him. Even as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, they sat quietly with him waiting until he was ready to say goodbye on his own terms. 

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

“You’re going to be okay, right?” Nana’s lip quivered as she spoke the words on the shores of the Chionthar. 

Gale gave her a reassuring smile, placing his hands over hers. “I will be.” He spoke with confidence, despite the worries he held within. He was thankful for the tadpole’s absence making these little moments that much easier to handle. “I will find the crown and come back to you. Do not worry for me.”

“I’m going to wait right here. I’ll stay here until you’re back.” 

He could see the concern on her face, and he wished he could reassure her further. The letter he’d written lay in the journal he’d gifted her on the desk at the Elfsong Tavern, and he hoped she would never have to read it. Even if she did, he had spent hours with a quill in hand trying to provide the best words that could give her comfort if the worst were to happen. The kiss they shared felt too short, and Gale hoped it would not be their last. He boarded the boat to go out into the waters, letting his hands slip from hers. “Nana, know that I will always love you.”

He watched as she sat alone on the shore, her legs pulled up to her chest, and as she slowly disappeared from view he gave a quiet prayer to his goddess for her protection.

*****************************************

Epilogue

It was a sunny day outside of Waterdeep. A lone gravestone could be seen, purple flowers lined around the base. Not far from it sat Nana in her natural changeling form, her short white hair had grown out and the scuffed leather armour had been replaced with an elegant silk gown.  

 "So, it's been a year now since that day by the river. A lot's happened, as you know. I held a proper funeral for you here and I was able to say my goodbyes. I met up with Karlach and the gang again. They said Avernus has been good to them. They mentioned something about a refinery and that they’re hopefully sorting something permanent for Karlach’s machine. I’m hopeful for her. Astarion went back to the Underdark as well and has pretty much put himself in charge of all the vampires. He looks well, a lot more at ease with himself than he used to be.” 

She brushed her hair behind her ear. “And then there is me... Well, me and Gale are getting married. Yeah, I think he’s crazy too. I know you probably won’t be too happy about it, but then you were never really that happy about anything, were you? I wonder if you were always that way. Was there any way I could have really saved you?”

She sighed deeply looking at the tattered journal that sat beneath the stone. “I think that’s why I'm here today. I wanted to explain the choice I made a year ago. Why I didn't want to help you. I’d believed that I wasn’t enough, and when I met you, I thought that for maybe a moment you were the answer to everything. Too many times I questioned what you did and yet I allowed it, afraid of you leaving me. I was selfish and because of me, people got hurt, and people died. After meeting Gale, and everyone else, I realised that I am special in my own strange way and that being alone isn’t really what I want anymore. I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t need you anymore. I do hope though that you’re happy. You showed me a new world outside of my swamp, and maybe at some point, you did feel something for me other than the disgust you did a year ago.” She wiped away a stray tear and smiled. “Either way, I hope now that you’re gone, you’ve found some peace in death that you never had in life." 

A few feet away Gale approached, his hair still weaving around the collar of his robes, though now with a layer tied neatly back. "Nana, If I could give you longer I really would but my mother is quite the stickler for being punctual. We’ve also received a letter about a tree growing at the location we previously camped at in Rivington. They’d like for us to come and claim it before they cut it down." 

Nana looked at Gale and smiled before turning back to the gravestone. "Well, I guess this is it then…” She stood and placed a hand on the cold stone. “Goodbye, Thomas. I'll always remember our time together." She breathed deeply and approached Gale, sharing a brief kiss with him before settling her hand in his.

Together they left the resting place of Thomas, only the sound of birdsong left hanging in the air.

*************************************

Epilogue (Alternative)

The rains poured outside of Waterdeep. A lone gravestone could be seen, purple flowers lined around the base. Not far from it sat Gale his dark hair had grown out, greying more than it previously did and the scuffed purple robe had been replaced with leather armour.   

"So, it's been a year now since that day by the river. A lot's happened, as you know. I held a proper funeral for you here and I was able to say my goodbyes. I met up with Karlach and the group again. They said Avernus has been good to them. They mentioned something about a refinery and that they’re hopefully sorting something permanent for Karlach’s machine. I’m hopeful for her. Astarion went back to the Underdark as well and has pretty much put himself in charge of all the vampires. He looks well, a lot more at ease with himself than he used to be.” 

He brushed his hair back with his hand. “And then there is me... Well, I’m returning to my swamp. I stayed here for a while with Tara and your mother but they’re a bit much for me. I see the way they look at me, blaming me for what happened. I should have gone with you, I should have stopped you. I should have prayed harder to Mystra…”

Nana sat in his form holding her arms tightly around her body. She sighed deeply looking at the tattered journal that sat beneath the stone. “I think that’s why I'm here today. I wanted to say goodbye properly. I’d always believed that I wasn’t enough, and when I met you, I thought that for maybe a moment you were the answer to everything. I kept your form for comfort just like I did all those days past with Thomas and I know in some way you’re still with me but I know that I can’t keep doing this. I need to let you rest, I want to hold onto you, but I know it’s not what you want. Your letter brought me comfort and I keep it in the journal you bought for me. You never let me down, never. You were always worthy, always good enough and I just wish you knew that. I wish you were here so I could tell you every day how much I love you, how much I’ll always love you.” She wiped away a stray tear. “I’ll keep writing poetry for you." 

A few feet away Astarion approached, a large black umbrella held over him, blocking his suit from becoming soaked. "Darling, if I could give you longer I really would but they expect the rain to clear in the next few hours and I’d love to get back to the Underdark long before that happens."

Nana looked at him and waved an arm not wanting to be rushed before turning back to the gravestone. "Well, I guess this is it then…” She stood, reverting back to her natural form. “Goodbye, Gale. My moon and star." She breathed deeply and approached Astarion, giving him a small nod, thankful for the rain coming down upon them.

Together they left the resting place of Gale, only the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella left hanging in the air.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

(~700 words, pearlescentmoon, set during HC10. body horror and scoleciphobia warning as described above. not particularly serious.)

They twisted and climbed over each other, pulling themselves across the unforgiving wooden floors, their disparate minds driven by a unified will that still clung to its identity. The worms, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of worms, stretching towards a goal that none of them could understand. But the consciousness that guided them knew its intention as it struggled to pull its new, fragmentary existence up the stairs and to the mirror.

It was only after it had pulled itself up to the mirror, the squirming and quivering mass of annelidic life pulling itself into a pillar, dragging itself up to match the mirror's height, that it realized the problem with its idea.

Oh, Pearl thought. I don't have eyes.

She knew the mirror was there, because the two thick columns of worms she'd come to think of as her arms within the last few minutes could feel it when she reached out. A smooth surface, much smoother than the wooden surroundings of the home she'd built. She knew it was polished to a reflective sheen. She also knew that she couldn't see herself in it. Worms, she came to realize, did not have eyes.

Do they have brains? she wondered. How am I thinking right now?

She could feel through each worm, a dizzying amount of sensation, and she used them to feel up and down the interior of her own form, searching for her brain, the seat of her consciousness. She didn't find it, though she wasn't sure she could recognize it if she did - would the worms, their soft and squishy bodies, be able to tell the difference between each other and the squishy flesh of her own brain? She doubted it.

But she paused when they brushed against something hard. Multiple somethings, each worm that inched past giving her more of a sense of the form of the tiny nuggets of something at the center of her new shape. Twenty-eight little prongs, loose, solid as pebbles.

Are those my teeth?

She willed the worms to shift their forms again. It was hard - none of them could understand the greater form she was envisioning, and so she had to build up the blueprint little by little in her head and urge each worm into the proper place. Slowly, very, very, slowly, she shifted so she had a roughly oval mass at the top of the pillar of grubs that formed her new body. A head, she'd call it. The worms, working together, managed to push each of her teeth up into her head, and held them staunchly in place, arranged in the way they were supposed to be.

It took quite a bit of practice, but eventually she worked it out. How to open up the right cavities within herself to push air out at the right rhythms, how to use the worms to shape that air as it emerged and move her teeth to complete the final steps.

"Thith ith.. quite... ihnconvenient," she managed.

She didn't have a tongue, which made the whole process much more difficult. Still, she preferred talking to herself out loud. It helped her think.

"I mean, I wath uppothed to meet with Joel again today," she said. "Itth not like I can... canthel on him. He'th juth the thort of guy to... mmake it a big... pr.. prod... production," she got out.

She noticed something else odd about her new body - she didn't have an accent anymore. Whatever muscle memory was responsible for that appeared not to carry over to her new form, which she supposed only made sense.

She'd have to practice that too. She was fond of her accent!

"Ah'll juth... um, go oher to hith bathe," she said. "I'm thtill in fine con... condition to argue with im," she said. "I'm alwayth ready to argue with im. I can work on getting my old body back after...aft...afterwardth," she resolved.

She reached out, unsteady, to grab her mailbag. Wouldn't do to leave home without it.

[avocadoraisin]

alright goofy goobers this is, apparently, the week where i say "eeh fuck it lmao"

first of all, half of you have urls that are some variation of "slasher slut" so im looking straight at u here: once upon a time before tumblr ruined the fun, i ran a nsfw art blog. i thought id spiritually revive it in the form of a twitter, if you want to see more saucy things!

right over here!

keep in mind it wont be 100% my art. itll probably be... idk... mostly retweets. also personal thoughts. (more personal than usual, obviously) and THEN art from me, once in a while. im not sure yet!

Second,

my little possum art is doin decent numbers on twitter so i figured id finally just say i have a furry alt? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you were wondering why i was on a semi-hiatus for all of last year til the slasher brain worm got me, its just cuz i was making art over there. thats all! (since i know some ppl get Big Mad at cartoon animals, i keep it separate from my main art)

i have a tumblr, @whyscout (and twitter of the same name thats more active ^^)

thats about it! :)

[sillysadduck]

BRO. IVE BEEN WRITING A LITTLE BIT OF MY DHMIS AU IVE BEEN WORKING ON AND I WANTED TO SHARE IT WITH YOU

Chapter 1.

    While Lily was digging into the meal provided by her new "mother," she finally felt like she had a full family, it was complete.

    There no longer sat an empty space where her old mother once sat, but now a petrified, yellow..kid? Adult..? Creature?

    He got up in fear and backed to the door. But the door opened. The family, except for Lily  was to distracted by the food to realized an old, skinny, greasy man had walked in.

    He was balding, but still long strands of thin hairs hang in front of his large wrinkly forehead. He walked over, and unhinged his jaw like a snake.

     Lily grabbed Todneys shoulder and pulled, in panic she yelled "Run!" The man pounced, lunging onto the son first.

     Todney was in the living room, staring at the man as it ripped limb from limb off his brother.

     Lily threw the bucket full of chicken at the attacker.

It lunged toward her, but she moved back only for him to claw her face and leave a scratch from her nose, to her chin. It started to bleed, that was gonna scare.

      She grabbed a drum stick and hit his face. The man now, distracted by the food, grabbed it and started fiercely ripping its flesh off.

    Lily ran passed Todney and grabbed his sleeve pulling him. "Lily, I'm scared." Tears filled Todneys eyes as she pulled him into their bedroom.

     Lily shut the door and locked it "I'm sorry, Todney, I really thought I could find another parent," Lily too started to whimper.

     "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Lily started to push the bed away from the wall.

      "What are you doing?" Todney asked trying not to whimper. "There's a vent we can go through, help me push it over."

    Todney helped push until the vent was uncovered. Lily pulled onto the vent opening until it came off.

     Lily climbed in and started to crawl.      Todney felt a lump in his throat form as the pain of loss hit. He tried hard to keep quiet but couldn't help but let out a few whimpers.

    The blood from Lily's lip dripped onto the metal making a trail. "What if he follows your trail?" Todney asked. Lily looked down and thought Trail? She saw the blood drips and felt her lip. "We'll be far enough away." She hoped.

    There was a small light up a head, Lily could feel a small breeze from the end of the vent.

    They made it out.

Chaptor 2.

    Warren, our ugly worm friend. Tossed out into the streets after being pulled out of a brain. Kinda of weird being pulled out of a brain, didn't even think puppets had  brains. Anyways, Warren, ugly guy on the streets, he adjusted his backpack straps onto his shoulders properly. Does anybody like me? He thought to himself. The streets where nasty, but not as nasty as his greasy hair. The smell of something burning made it through his crusty nose. Someone had a fire going but who? He looked down the end of the street, smoke was filling the air from an alley way. "A fire?" Warren whispered to himself. Warren moved his slimy body towards the alley. There, he peeked around the corner to see two children roasting hotdogs over a tiny but mighty fire.

"Who are you?" Said the little boy? The little girl turned around. Warren was shocked to see her nose and lip swollen with an infected, yellow cut.

"Um, hi," Warren said. He awkwardly  walked over. "I'm Warren, have room for another?" The little girl looked at him. "Sure." She said. Maybe I can stay here for a bit. Warren thought. Warren sat next to the campfire as the kids roasted the hotdogs. The little boy looked at his book bag. He must have been staring at the small pin clipped to the side. "What thats?" He asked. Warren unclipped the pin and held it in his hand. "It's my badge for where I used to work." Warren explained. "What did you do?" He asked curiously. "I worked for the OK Stop company. I spread bullying awareness to others." "Oh," the boy said "that's, cool.." Warren clipped the pin back on " Yeah not most exciting job." Warren unzipped his bag and pulled out a box of band aids. "You look like you need one." Warren handed a band aid to the little girl. She look at it unsure to take it. "No thanks," she said "it'll heal soon." Warren put the band aids back in the bag. Rude. She could've taken it for later. Warren selfishly thought to himself. "Are you siblings?" He asked "twins." The girl answered. "I'm Todney," said the boy. "And that's Lily." Lily and Todney had been out there for about a week now after Roy killed their "family."

"There's a guy down the street looking for a new employee." Said Todney , being helpful or trying to get rid of him. "Oh, thanks." He said "what's the job application for?" He asked.  "Flowers, I think." Lily answered. A flower shop, Warren thought. Wasn't a cult leader working there once? There was a scrambling noise in one of the dumpsters. Raccoon with an un opened bag of marshmallows in its mouth poped open the lid. The Raccoon came over with a big smile. "Look what I found."

It said. Oh boy another teacher. He realized the... tumor? Sitting in his spot. "Who's this guy?" He asked the twins. "I'm Warren." He answered. "Your not bribing them for their food are you?" He asked sharply. That would have been smart before this guy got here. Warren thought. "Of course not, they're kids aren't they?"

The Raccoon studied Warren for a bit, Not buying it. Warren thought in a panic. "Hmpf," the Raccoon huffed. He came over on the other side of the campfire and sat. "Where did you get the hot dogs?" Asked the Raccoon. "We stole them." Todney giggled. Something I'm gonna have to do. Warren realized. "Did they catch you?" Warren asked. "Obviously not, I grabbed the bag while Todney asked a bunch of stupid questions." Answered Lily. They work together, I don't need anyone though. "That was a smart move." Said the Raccoon proudly.

I might add a few things and get rid of the Raccoon because I do plan on making him abandon lily and Todney, but that's not his personality that I gave him, so he may just not exist. I have like nobody to talk to about this so I came here lol

THIS IS SO COOL!! I died at "the tumor" lmao😭😭😭 AND WARREN BEING GREASY PFFFT STINKY ASS WORM

YOU SHOULD POST IT ON AO3 WHEN YOU'RE DONE <3

[risingsouls]

🦎 + This lil guy's a freebie. What's been burning on your mind lately, if anything?

🦎s For My Work Thoughts || Always Accepting!

[Me trying not to be political because with all the absolute garbage going on in my state and nationally and just the general bigotry and constantly getting fucked over by how our society works? I've got big angy for all that.

BUT. I'll go with some other brain rot. When I'm not sad or angry about the political climate in this turd of a country we've polished up and tried to call a diamond of the world, Nabooru has been HEAVY on the mind. Mostly because, spoiler if you're reading my fic, I'm finally sorta kinda working out how I want to at least introduce her status as a demigod. Or at least suggest shit ain't so simple with her heritage and power.

With a slight introduction out of the way (as in its written but I'm still working through the chapter so not official YET), I've had the biggest brain worm for just trying to figure out how I want to fully implement it, from deciding if it will be some kind of transformation or something else entirely like basically some other being or part of her taking control of her mind and actions and everything until SHE learns to control that if not a combo of both to how she figures out what's going on and has to contend with THAT crisis. I considered making it to where someone divine like maybe Supreme Kai or Kibito recognizing it in her when they come to Earth in a like divine recognizing divine moment, but I've also been toying with a different idea that actually reaches into the lore I made up for the Gerudo pantheon. Her dad is the sun god, who is also the god of prophecy as well. Even before I toyed with the idea of making her a demigod, I played around with ideas of her having dreams and strong intuitions about like the changes in Ganondorf and the potential consequences of his actions and plans for their people, so extending that here would actually make sense. Right now I have dream ideas and maybe learning about your heritage through a dream is cliche but EH. I'll also get to explore her mom a little more if I do it this way too so that's kind of neat.

Now what exactly will her form look like, let alone what are all the perks to having a divine papa? Not sure yet. Fire and heat and god ki (for all that's fucking worth with Super's minimal exploration of a cool concept lmao; basically rn it's just serving as a sort of "No one really knows how strong she REALLY is because you can't sense god ki the same way lol) is about all I got rn. Maybe I'll just go straight magical girl on her. Who knows!]

[thepitofjob]

Job 16: 6-14. "The Breadcrumbs."

"Proud but not arrogant" is the fruit of the actions of the student found in the Shule. Thoughts grown in the orchard of the Divine Estate produce juice that is used to produce wine. Thoughts grown on the Diabolic Estate core the fruits like worms and make them shitty.

The thought of owning a cored apple in between one's ears causing a gaunted brain should be terrifying. The Book of Job calls the cause of gaunt "a refrain of a pain".

The only way to escape a gaunted brain is through the cultivation of what is called the Bud in Hebrew, "the silent witness." The Bud is "a discourse between the eyebrows that takes place while sitting on the butt."

"Our noun may denote the back or buttocks of a man (Psalm 129:3) or of cherubim (Ezekiel 10:12). It may denote a hill (Ezekiel 16:24), or the elevation of an altar (Ezekiel 43:13). It may describe a quality of a shield, perhaps its rim or bulbous curvature (Job 15:26), something said, perhaps a build-up argumentation or boastful discourse (Job 13:12), the hairy "hills" or "rims" of the eye, which are most probably a person's eyebrows (Leviticus 14:9), and something pertaining to a wheel, probably the curved segments that form the rim of it (1 Kings 7:33)."

The following section explains from the eyebrows down to the kidneys and bladder how to witness the Words of Moses and become successful at arguing for their truth, called the piercing eye by the Rab.

Truth feeds the mind and cures it of worms. Truth shatters one's enemies, it ends the need for their pity. Jews are the most piteous race of persons in human history as they have been murdered and persecuted in very large numbers because of worms grown on the Diabolic Estate. But Ha Shem has finally been revealed and as He promised in the Torah, so now has the truth reality of the Jew. Now it should be easy to perform the Bud, the build up the hill of the enlightened Jewish Self:

6 “Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved;     and if I refrain, it does not go away. 7 Surely, God, you have worn me out;     you have devastated my entire household. 8 You have shriveled me up—and it has become a witness;     my gauntness rises up and testifies against me. 9 God assails me and tears me in his anger     and gnashes his teeth at me;k     my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes. 10 People open their mouths to jeer at me;     they strike my cheek in scorn     and unite together against me. 11 God has turned me over to the ungodly     and thrown me into the clutches of the wicked. 12 All was well with me, but he shattered me;     he seized me by the neck and crushed me. He has made me his target; 13     his archers surround me. Without pity, he pierces my kidneys     and spills my gall on the ground. 14 Again and again he bursts upon me;     he rushes at me like a warrior.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 6-7: Surely God, you have worn me out. The Number is 11602, יאס‎ב, yasev, "what are you going to create with all of your effort?"

v. 8-9: My opponent has piercing eyes. The mirror image is called one's opponent until the attainment to Ha Shem. He must be eradicated using the lessons found in the Shule. Some people think this means they can't masturbate or they have to check with God or the Bible on every last little thing but that is not correct. The opponent is the ego, the sneaky part of the mind, the one that tests the world. The world as the verses say will test us back and that is not desirable.

The Number is 9082, טאֶפֶסח‎ב, tapeshahb, "stretch out". "To test beyond the limites of one's obstinate mind, to exit confining spaces." In the same way the mind wants more space to grow into, which means one must give up on silly superstitions, so do ones persecutors cause the world to become stretched thin.

"The verb τεινω (teino) means to stretch tight (of reins, of a sheet, of a bow, of tendons), or in general, to exert a force to something so as to stretch it to its limit. It derives from the same Proto-Indo-European root "ten-" that also yielded the Latin verb teneo, to reach for, to hold, to grasp, from which English gets words like tenet, tenor and tenure.

In the classics our verb τεινω (teino) is likewise used in the sense of to strain or exert oneself (in order to reach something), to strain an issue or dispute, to run off at full speed, and so on. It may be used in the sense of to aim at (to stretch a bow and thus aim an arrows toward some target), to lay out in one's full length, to stretch or hold out, to stretch or reach for, to lengthen (of time). Our verb does not occur independently in the New Testament, only as part of the following compounds:

Together with the intensifying prefix α- (a-), meaning very much: the verb ατενιζω (atenizo) , meaning to look intently, to stare (comparable to our English word attention, from the Latin equivalents). In the classics as well as in the New Testament, this word is applied mostly to staring eyes, and on occasion to an otherwise probing (or obstinate) mind. This verb is used 14 times; see full concordance.

Together with the preposition εκ (ek), meaning out: the verb εκτεινω (ekteino), meaning to stretch out. In the New Testament this verb is nearly exclusively used to describe the stretching out of one's hand(s), but certain usages suggest that more is implied. In Acts 26:1, for instance, the stretching out of Paul's hand is equated with him speaking for himself. Note that the word χειρ (cheir), hand, also denotes one's personal power, and whatever is in one's hand(s) is in one's power. In Acts 27:30, this same verb is used to describe the casting off of a ship's anchors. This verb is used 16 times, see full concordance, and from it in turn derive:

The noun εκτενεια (ektenia), which literally describes the act (or instance) of reaching or stretching out, but which is used to describe zeal or enthusiasm (Acts 26:7 only).

The adjective εκτενης (ektenes), literally meaning stretched out, but used to describe the warm bond between friends who reach out to each other, with zeal and eagerness (Acts 12:5 and 1 Peter 4:8 only). From this adjective in turn come:

The adverbially used comparative of the previous, namely εκτενεστερον (ektenesteron), meaning more zealously (Luke 22:44 only).

The adverb εκτενως (ektenos), meaning intently, zealously (1 Peter 1:22 only).

Together with the preposition επι (epi), meaning on or upon: the verb επεκτεινω (epekteino), meaning to reach onto or toward (Philippians 3:13 only).

Together with the preposition υπερ (huper), meaning over or beyond: the verb υπερεκτεινω (uperekteino), meaning to overstretch, to overdo (2 Corinthians 10:14 only).

Together with the preposition παρα (para), meaning near or nearby: the verb παρατεινω (parateino), meaning to stretch beside, along or nearly onto (Acts 20:7 only). In the classics this verb may mean to prolong or protract, which is how it appears to be used in the New Testament.

Together with the preposition προ (pro), meaning before, in front of: the verb προτεινω (proteino), meaning to stretch out before (Acts 22:25 only). In this case, the "stretching" relates to the tight thongs, and the "before" relates to the beating that was to follow and for which Paul was bound.

The adjective στενος (stenos) means narrow (hence English words like stenosis and stenography) or confined. In the Greek classics, this word is used largely the same as "narrow" is in English, with "the narrows" describing sea straights (the straights of Gibraltar, the Hellespont), and "narrow minds" referring to folks of petty mental means. This word was also used to describe a "narrow spot", either literally or figuratively, in the sense of being driven in a corner, or being stuck in a difficult place where one can barely move or escape from.

It's formally unclear where this word comes from, but here at Abarim Publications we surmise it's one of a small list of words that were amended with a leading sigma (see our article on σειρα, seira, for a discussion of this phenomenon), and hence is the counterpart of our verb τεινω (teino), to stretch (see above). In the classics, our adjective στενος (stenos) also occurs as the variant στεινος (steinos).

Our adjective occurs in Matthew 7:13, 7:14 and Luke 13:24 only, and only to describe the narrow (i.e. difficult to get to and through), gate onto life, as opposite the broad (i.e. easy to get to and through) one that leads to destruction. In modern evangelical climates it's not always emphasized, but if the going seems easy, the chances are excellent we're not really going anywhere. Not all difficulty leads to life, of course, but life is a difficult trait to get right, and the gospel of bliss and fun might be the worst good news anyone has ever received.

From our adjective derive:

The verb στεναζω (stenazo), meaning to groan or sigh deeply, to vocally demonstrate that one is in a tight spot or trying to figure out something very difficult. This verb does not describe a state of defeat and placid sorrow, but the roar of flexed muscles, bent backs and a hell-or-high-water kind of can-do attitude. In James 5:9 the author warns to not loudly wail when carrying a brother's failings, as this would make everybody feel bad, but simply carry what we can, knowing that those who carry our failings are quiet not because our failings are light but because they are dignified about them. This mighty verb is used 6 times; see full concordance, and from it in turn come:

Together with the preposition ανα (ana), meaning on, upon or again: the verb αναστεναζω (anastenazo), meaning to groan out loud, or several loud groans in a row. This verb is an amplified version of the previous (Mark 8:12 only).

The noun στεναγμος (stenagmos), meaning a groan or groaning (Acts 7:34 and Romans 8:26 only). In Acts, the author quotes Exodus 2:24, but Paul in his letter to the Romans speaks of "un-talkable groanings", which doesn't so much emphasize the non-verbal nature of the Holy Spirit's groaning, but rather that the Holy Spirit's most arduous efforts can't be joined or spread out over a broader conversation.

Together with the preposition συν (sun), meaning together or with: the verb συστεναζω (sustenazo), meaning to groan together or jointly groan (to be engaged in a communal effort that has everybody groaning together). This important verb occurs in Romans 8:22 only, where it describes the collective groaning of creation, not out of defeat but out of the unshakable conviction that it is bringing forth something very much worth the effort. If we are correct and our parent verb indeed comes from the PIE root "ten-", then our verb συστεναζω (sustenazo) is very closely related to the English verb to sustain.

Together with the noun χωρα (chora), "region of cultural distinction": the verb στενοχωρεω (stenochoreo), to narrow one's space (2 Corinthians 4:8 and 6:12 only). From this word in turn comes:

The noun στενοχωρια (stenochoria), which is commonly translated with distress or persecution but literally describes a narrowing of breathing space (in a cultural or intellectual sense).

v. 10-11: God has thrown me into the clutches of the wicked. Clutches are not handbags without straps, they are what we long for. What one wants one will draw too one. No one longs to be ritually pure however. But the sage says it is the job of the Shule to teach us how to long for the proper experience of one's own man:

"To covet (this is the famous one, used in "you shall not covet"), אוה ('wh II), to desire, wish or covet, פער (pa'ar), to desire or lust — and since our verb כסף (kasap) occurs a mere few times, it evidently expresses a specific and rather reserved sensation. In Arabic this verb means to be colorless, obscure or even to eclipsed (of a heavenly body) or to be depressed in appearance. In Aramaic (and subsequently modern Hebrew) it means to become pale or deteriorate, and is often used in the sense of to put to shame or frighten. Its five Biblical contexts are:

You will call and I will answer you; you will long for the creature your hands have made (Job 14:15).

He is like a lion that is eager to tear (Psalm 17:12).

Now you have gone off because you longed to return to your father's house (Genesis 31:30).

My soul longed and even yearned (כלה, kaleh) for the courts of YHWH (Psalm 84:2).

Gather yourselves together, yes, gather, O nation without shame/desire (Zephaniah 2:1).

v. 12-13: But his archers targeted me. They spilled my kidneys and my gall. Gall is bitterness. It can only be cured by its antidote called merara, the Myrrh, the Balsam of God, "the oil of the wedding night."

Telling one strength and sweetness are both types of bitterness associated with the Myrrh does not even scratch the surface of the meaning of the above. Complete withdrawal of the mind from the clutches for the purposes of conserving time, money, energy, emotions, and one's visions until the right time is the reason we study the Torah in the Shule.

The Number is 11169, ט‎יאאו‎ ‎, tiao, "the Theo."

Theo is thineself. It comprises all the theories and their accomplishments that reveal Ha Shem, specifically "definitions of God that we are sure about."

The etymology suggests the God and the Torah are like instructions for putting together prefab furniture that arrives in a box:

"The primary purpose of knowing things — knowing when to sow, when to harvest, how to track prey, how to battle threats, how to respond to a complex international social market — was to create security and thus increase people's chances of survival (see our article on the word πιστις, pistis, meaning "faith" or rather "that which one is sure about", for more on this). And all details of all knowledge added up to the unified quest for the basic operating principle of the universe."

If one finds oneself unable to do this, Ha Shem has yet to be achieved.

v. 14: Again he bursts upon me like a warrior.

=The proper aim or purpose one has longed for has been achieved. It is accompanied by a report, and then the warrior goes and takes what he knows is right for him and also right for the world:

"The root רעה (ra'a III) does not occur in the Bible, but in Aramaic — רעא (ra'a') — it means to take pleasure in or desire, and yields nouns that mean thought, opinion and disposition. Some scholars propose that this root and its derivatives are in fact a specialized group of words coming from root רעה (ra'a I). Also note that two of three derivations of this root are also produced by the previous root:

The masculine noun רע (rea'), meaning aim or purpose (Psalm 139:1).

The feminine noun רעות (re'ut), meaning longing or striving (Ecclesiastes 1:14).

The masculine noun רעיון (ra'yon), meaning longing (Ecclesiastes 1:17).

The verb רוע (rua') describes the production of a sudden burst of sound brought about by humans, namely an aggressive war cry (Joshua 6:10, 1 Samuel 17:52, Isaiah 42:13), a defensive alarm cry (Judges 7:21), a cry out of distress (Isaiah 15:4, Micah 4:9), a signal to start marching (Numbers 10:7), a triumphant shout (Jeremiah 50:15), a shout in applause (1 Samuel 10:24), or religious zeal (1 Samuel 4:5), or joy (Psalm 65:13). This verb is a bit of a chameleon; it appears formed as הריעו (Judges 15:14), הרעו (1 Samuel 17:20), יריע (Isaiah 42:13), תרועה (Joshua 6:5) and תרועת (Ezra 3:13).

The derivatives of this verb are:

The noun רע (rea'), meaning a shouting (Exodus 32:17, Job 36:33, Micah 4:9 only, but each of these occurrences is dubious and may rather be due to any of the above).

The feminine noun תרועה (teru'a), meaning alarm or war cry (Joshua 6:5, Amos 1:14), marching signal (Numbers 10:5, 2 Chronicles 13:12), shout for joy (1 Samuel 4:5, Ezra 3:13, Job 8:21)."

The Number is 2988, ךטףח, "picked up pat," "a morsel of bread."

The creation of the individual Jewish Self and the Nation are a process made up of bread crumbs. This is very deluded world. It is being run by criminals and dipshitz. The human race has no idea what it is doing or why in spite of every advantage. The purposes named by the Torah and Tanakh are the ones that will save it. But they are not accepted ubiquitously and are not taught to but a few.

[aviculor]

Re-visiting the "Knowledge armor evolutions" idea because I had a brain blast about Armadimon/Digmon.

MetallifeKuwagamon is gold with purple markings, which gives it a reasonably strong visual connection to Digmon. And then RhinoKabuterimon as the ultimate works so well I'm astonished neither I nor KarnEX thought of it. It's big and bulky, it has a shell, it's down on all its legs, it's gold and purple (more of a Gamecube indigo and that becomes the dominant color, but you get the idea), and it has fin-like protrusions where ears would be. On paper, it's basically the platonic ideal of what an Armadimon evo should be. I'm actually happier with this than I am with any idea I've had for its natural evolution path.

I already discussed my line for Wormmon/Searchmon. Climbmon and Shivamon have perfect synergy with them, you could parse a narrative about searching for enlightenment, and Shivamon has a little worm buddy. I actually really love this one. In fact, this line feels completely organic as a Wormmon evolution line.

I could have given the Funbeemon evos to V-mon/Honeybeemon, but I decided Dinobeemon actually does work the best because of the whole "V-mon wearing an exoskeleton" commonality. And then GranKuwagamon is a no-brainer since it's the default evolution of Dinobeemon. When you think about it, this line is canon compliant since Dinobeemon and GranKuwagamon legitimately are V-mon evolutions...Just in the same way Paildramon and Imperialdramon are Wormmon evolutions. GrandisKuwagamon Honey Mode also exists, but that feels a little bit cheap since it's literally a digixross using Honeybeemon. It's also not in the builder.

Hawkmon/Flybeemon is where I start to moan about the lack of options again. BanchoStingmon is red and black, and you could give it some poetic meaning that Yolei's partner would evolve into the final form of Ken's partner. I could have put Jewelbeemon as the perfect level to bridge the gap, but being green is literally the opposite of being red. Vespamon does a good enough job in that slot, it's got robotic armor with black stripes. Hawkmon talks and acts like a samurai while Vespamon is an elite knight. idk

Patamon/Mothmon...we really do need more insect digimon that aren't bees or rhinoceros beetles or stag beetles. I'm defaulting to KarnEX's idea of Cannonbeemon simply because of the gun abdomen. And then TigerVespamon essentially just because it was still available.

Tailmon/Butterflamon gets Eosmon, also KarnEX's idea, because Morphomon's natural evolutions were never revealed. We could have had a full line of butterfly fairy digimon that could have been used here, but alas. Queenbeemon also works as the ultimate stage, but I like Eosmon Ultimate because it's at least butterfly-themed and its actual body is gold so there actually is a good amount of visual cohesion. It's also very goddess-like which ties it to Angewomon and Ophanimon.

[mrskurono]

Getou $75 slot fee??

A gamble....will it pay off?

$75 for the curse user and you won...curse sex with Getou!

tags: fem!Reader, brain worm!Getou, manga spoilers ish, noncon, bondage, drug mention, curse/demon/monsterfucking, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, creampie

->Check out the other slot boys and girls <-

The union of curse and human had, intrigued, the age old being.

New vessel. New tools at their disposal. And a new precious idea to test out on an unsuspecting human.

Suguru bent down in front of your tear stained face and offered the same charming smile he had before his death.

But this time it wasn’t him who was smiling back at you.

“It’s my newest idea, made possible only by the wonderful workings of Mahito.” Suguru stayed knelt in front of you, “Perhaps, this is the key to humans and curses finally being one.”

“Suguru please-” Your voice cracked in your plea, “Please I know you’re in there. Suguru you can’t do this what about-”

“Are you still trying to reason your way out of this?” Suguru tapped the stitching on his forehead, “I’d save your strength for something else love. He isn’t helping you in this little porject.”

Before another attempt to grapple with the curse in your long gone lover’s body. Suguru snapped his fingers. A low creak of a door behind you. One you couldn’t exactly see from the position you were bound in. 

Strapped over a breeding bench like a common animal. Only your head could move to show you the horror of the mutilated body coming your way. Worse than that, were the drooling cock between it’s legs as it approached. Fear deepening in your gut. Renewing your struggle to be free. As futile as that was.

Suguru stayed knelt before you with that same endearing smile on the strangers face. Even as the monster mounted you. Sloppy, uncoordinated and erratic thrusts. Missing it’s mark half a dozen times as it prodded at your cunt lips. Slipped against your clit. Even grazed your ass. All before one chance of the draw it was able to bury itself deep inside your cunt.

Prepared for the pain of being penetrated, you screamed when it’s weight came down on your back and waited for the searing burn as it ripped your cunt. Inside, that never came. Replaced with a hip shuddering reaction the second the curse drove it’s cock deep against your cervix.

“Ahh, so the manipulation did work on you too...” Suguru tapped his bottom lip, “You’re wet as can be and taking it. This might work.”

Breathing made difficult by the weight of the curse on your back. And it’s insistent pounding away at your sopping cunt right in front of him. You couldn’t fathom any words. Instead your mouth just hung loosely open with drool dripping from your lips as your half lidded eyes followed Suguru’s form up as he stood.

“Oh, looks like you’ll be receiving your first gift.” He smiled. Unaware what he meant until it suddenly happened.

The warmth in your body put to the test when the monster slammed itself deeper into you. Undoubtedly feeling it in your belly as it rutted its cock against your cervix. Feeling like you were going to be split in half on this wretched bench you were strapped to. All of that to be washed away though with the first spurt of inhumanly hot cum to be deposited inside you.

Very much unlike a human though. When the ropes of cum overfilled your cunt and left your pussy dripping and drooling the messy mixture around the monster’s cock. The thrusts didn’t stop. Carrying on with their frantic power right through it’s first orgasm. Making your mind and body fuzzier by the second as it continued fucking you right through it all.

“I’ll come back in a few.” Suguru smiled down at his work. Human and curse. Just as he had always hoped it would be even if the sight was of his host’s only lover being violated by a creature only thought up in nightmares. He was brimming with pride over his work, “Make sure to me good use of that seed. Or we’ll have as many breeding sessions as it takes to create my world.”

[cheelduh]

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1  2  3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much. 

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

[amerrierworld]

Take the Silence Away

for the request: Lou Miller helping fem!reader with her depression 

Summary: You thought you’d be home alone to deal with your feelings, so when Lou arrives, you’re worried you’ve screwed up entirely. 

Characters: Lou x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: mention of depresssssionnnnn, mental health issues, general sadness and whatnot, self-degrading talk 

Nobody ever talks about when the lowest points hit on the brightest days. But you were getting quite acquainted with the concept. 

The windows were open, you could hear car honks and children laughing. The sun was shining directly on your face. There was a smell of spring in the air and you should have felt absolutely fine. The day could not have looked more perfect if you looked outside.

But Lou was forced to cancel your lunch date, and somehow that had you crumbling where you stood. You couldn’t remember the reason; it didn’t matter. She wasn’t coming today. You knew she didn’t have a choice, and weren’t mad at her. You were mad at yourself, for reacting the way you did.

Wearing your cutest, most attractive dress, hair done up and makeup flawless. You really should go and change. But you couldn’t get up out of the bed that you had collapsed in when you had finished your phone call.

Was it really all that bad? No, seemingly not so. But your brain didn’t quite agree with that. 

Tears had smeared your mascara half an hour ago. An hour before that your hair had slipped from its stylings. You had been starving for lunch with Lou, but you hadn’t budged to eat at all since. 

Were you weak? Weak for getting so despaired when one good thing fell out of place? Was there something else you should have been paying attention to? 

It didn’t matter, you decided. Nothing mattered, right? Nothing but numbness. It was something you were accustomed to.

There were birds chirping close to your window, and it made you turn your head only slightly, but you were too late to see what birds. You caught a wing flapping before they disappeared, and sighed in exhaustion. Missed that too. 

You don’t know how long you stayed in bed like that. Did the phone ring? The front door? You didn’t notice if it did.  

Your eyelashes felt crusty from the dried tears and makeup and it irritated your skin. You aggressively rubbed your eye until it was sore and blurry, and your fingers came away with smudged makeup. Oh right, you were wearing makeup. 

The ceiling really wasn’t that entertaining. Maybe you should get out of bed, put on your pj’s and just crawl back in bed. Or sleep in the bathtub- the couch? Heck, the floor would be just fine. You deserved it, you were sure..

The sound of the front door opening caught you by surprise, but you didn’t budge. An intruder? Good. Let them take what they want, you couldn’t be bothered anyway-

“Guess who?” a voice called out.

Your head shot up. You tensed your body like you wanted to leap out of bed at the sound of Lou’s voice- oh it would be nice to see her, right? 

But no, you looked like a mess. Fuck. There were footsteps approaching, she always knew where to find you. You wouldn’t have time to fix yourself, not this time. 

You sat up and rubbed a little harder at your eyes, knowing it wouldn’t do anything to hide the puffiness and smeared eyeshadow. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You didn’t want her to see you like this-

The door creaked open and you rushed to sit, perched on the edge of the bed, forcing a smile.

“Guess who got us dinner?” Lou was grinning, holding a few plastic bags. You could smell the takeout where you were sitting, and your stomach grumbled. 

The sight of her made your heart burst. She looked impeccable- her hair swept by the wind, looking rosy-cheeked from the bike ride. Her shoes were off, and she was wearing a pair of ugly, disgustingly coloured socks. Socks you recognized that you bought her as a joke, because it never would have gone with her fashion sense, but that she wore anyways. You felt yourself choke up. 

“Hey, baby. Everything all right?” her voice was riddled with concern, and your stomach dropped with dread. You hated making others worried, hated to see them sad, hated-

“Yup. I- uh, fell asleep,” you said. “Guess it was a good idea to cancel lunch.”

You let out a huff of dry laughter, but Lou wasn’t having any of it. She put the takeout bags on the ground, and disappeared into the closet. You sat there, startled for a moment, and wondering what she was doing.

She came out in a fuzzy cow-print onesie, and had another zebra-print onesie in hand. There was a clear intention in her eyes, and you would’ve ran out the room if you had had the energy.

“You are not making me wear that,” you laughed incredulously. They were kept in the back because neither of you ever wore them, until now. Her eyebrow raised and with lightning speed, she was on top of you, making you shriek.

“Lou! Lou, oh my god, what are you-” you burst out in a fit of giggles as she tickled your sides, flailing your limbs. She managed to worm the bottom half of the onesie onto your body. You wheezed with laughter, out of breath.

“Okay, okay okay.” You finally relented, letting her take off your dress and zip up the cozy onesie all the way. She tugged the hood over your head, letting your zebra ears flop and you rolled your eyes, smiling.

Then she leapt off the bed and grabbed the take out. She precariously balanced it on the bed before sitting on it, and tugging you to sit in her lap, legs intertwined. 

Without another word, she kept you in that position as she passed you your takeout box, the familiar, amazing smell of your favourite meal making you light up. She rubbed a hand along your leg without another word as you dug in, realizing how hungry you were, and that Lou somehow had managed to order the one thing that got you eating. 

You ate in silence for a little while, sitting in Lou’s lap in your cozy outfits. Though it was quiet, there was calm, and you actually found it quite relaxing. 

“Do you wanna talk about anything?” Lou eventually asked, mouth full of food. You stilled, looking down at your plate. Your fingers began trembling a bit.

“I-” You hesitated. But then, Lou’s hand wrapped around yours and she squeezed firmly. 

So you let it all out. Your stresses, your fears, your numbness. Halfway through, Lou was blinking back tears, and so were you. When you could no longer form coherent words and were choking out sobs and half syllables, Lou wrapped her arms around you tightly and tugged you close. Eventually she slowly fell back onto the mattress, with you holding on like a small koala bear. 

“If you’re worried that now you’ve scared me off, don’t be,” she eventually said, once you sobs had subsided somewhat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your throat was hoarse and dried up, and you buried your nose in her neck. “You have every reason to leave me.”

“That’s not true.”

She nudged you until you pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I have every reason to stay. If you’ll let me. And talk to me about things, when they get bad?”

You could have saved both of you from so much turmoil right at this moment. Now that she knew, you could send her away with a good reason; that your emotions were not up to par, that she didn’t deserve this. 

But your heart ached with love. And you wanted her so desperately, in every way. Even when you were numb, Lou was a sweet, calming reminder of everything you needed to go after when things got dark. 

And you nodded, promising something you never thought you had the strength to do. To be open with someone. Lou smiled, kissed your cheek, and pulled you even tighter. Your full belly and exhausted tears easily sent you into a deep sleep, with her rubbing your back and keeping you warm. 

A/N: brb crying 

@ the anon who asked for this i hope everything is going alright in your life, i hope this helps, i hope you will find ways to help yourself and realize how worthy you are to enjoy this wonderful thing called fuckin’ LIFE <3 (and that goes for alllll of you who are reading this too okay)