#the beast has a name but im not saying it. if i ever write this down its a plot point

[bi-writes]

so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.

notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.

mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)

the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.

DEPOSITED.

when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.

it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.

the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.

he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.

he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.

there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.

he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.

he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.

he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.

there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.

the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.

he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.

the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.

he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.

"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.

"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."

the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.

ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.

he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.

his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.

the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.

you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.

"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"

your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.

"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.

"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."

you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.

"what did he do?"

"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.

"y'try to put your hands on'er?"

"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"

"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.

when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.

he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.

"let me look at ya, little rabbit."

you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.

so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.

his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.

you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.

then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.

filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.

but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.

"you olright, luv?"

you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.

he is a dog, and he is fond of you.

you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.

but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.

the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.

your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.

it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?

it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.

johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.

the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.

but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.

he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.

fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--

he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.

you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.

there is something wrong with you.

[pparadiselost]

could you write sae x reader x shidou? if not, then shidou x reader would be fine

and im absolutely inlove with dacryphilia.. so if you could include that too thanks ^^

deux et trois.

shidou ryusei x fem reader x itoshi sae your wild boyfriend has always been a handful, but him tagteaming you with a rather trusted teammate might be more than you can chew. warning(s): nsfw, dacryphilia, dubcon, exhibitionism, cucking, degradation (from sae) minors do not interact.

dating someone like shidou ryusei feels a lot like a dream come true in the conceptual sense. you could easily imagine a whole plethora of young women who would give up everything they ever knew to date a handsome, successful soccer player like him and to essentially live a guaranteed life of glamor and luxury. and this much was your reality, and it was a fact that you accepted with as much humility and gratitude you could. 

you were never someone who enjoyed letting such superficial things get to your head and pump your ego up; you falling in love with him and him falling in love with you was nothing more than chance, and nothing on the objective level separated you from any other girl in the world. 

and shidou treats you sweetly, a surprising contrast to his maniacal behavior on the playing field. he’s still energetic and gets a kick out of teasing you playfully whenever he gets the chance to, but everything he does shows that he cares for you. perhaps in that way you two are really meant for each other; he would never purposefully do anything to upset you, and everything he involved you with was because he genuinely thought it would be good for you.

his coworkers, be they opponents or teammates, also all treated you with a degree of respect. they were intimidating and constantly raring to go, as if each of them were starved beasts, but they knew that you were simply shidou’s lover but not him himself. you grew accustomed with some of them. isagi sometimes gave you a shy smile and a greeting, igaguri would beg you to tone down your boyfriend to no success, and even the icy rin would peer at you with his cold teal eyes and nod curtly in your direction.

but exceptions were always to be expected.

“hm…,” a callous voice hums to no one in particular from above you. “...i can’t say i knew what to expect from you, but this certainly wasn’t it, little demon. well, i suppose that is my fault for letting you have too much free rein.”

your core burns, and every part of your bare body prickles with heat and shame. you don’t know how this happened or what pieces fell into place to bring you here, but you were here nonetheless. shidou’s dick is stuffed into you, your boyfriend bucking his hips wildly into you while you’re perched helplessly on his lap, and your thighs are spread apart nice and wide to give the other man in the room a perfect view to how shidou’s cock stretches your pussy apart.

you recognize him vaguely. unlike shidou, this man’s face is unreadable and frosty. his jaw is set as if it were carved out of stone, beautiful but unapproachable, and long under eyelashes escort you mockingly upwards to his unimpressed eyes. his irises are the same shade of breathtaking teal that are rin’s, and your stomach flips.

“whaaaaaat, i thought i’d offer you the best!” shidou sings from behind you. you whimper as he leans forward, trapping you in between his arms and his toned chest. “c’mon, why are you acting so shy all of the sudden, sae-chan? if i brought you anything less than acceptable to your impossible standards, you’d call me all sorts of ugly names and kick me out!”

this whole thing is embarrassing. you’re already so shy about having sex with your boyfriend, let alone have sex with him while someone that might as well be a total stranger watch you bouncing on top of shidou’s dick like tomorrow doesn't exist. and you weren’t given much space to hide any of it either. the very instant you’d make an attempt to even close your legs, shidou would be spreading them right apart and bullying his throbbing length into you even deeper, as if to offer your stuffed cunt up to itoshi sae and brag about it to him.

sae frowns, and his pretty lips twist into something that almost looks like a scowl. the temperature in the room feels as if it’s mounting into a dizzying heat but also plunging into an arctic chill between the two men. “but to think you’d bring me your girlfriend… i’d be impressed, if it weren’t for the fact that you brought me such a perverted girl.”

your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he points an insult at you. you’d believe that sae hated you with an unspoken passion if it weren’t for the fact that he was also naked and you could see how his cock was hardening, his dick twitching slightly whenever you glance towards the midfielder with watering eyes and short-lived gasps escaping your mouth. still, his words hurt, and you can feel tears invade the corner of your eyes. you rapidly try to blink them away; you’re already ashamed of the fact that he’s watching you getting railed by shidou, let alone cry like a baby in front of him. 

“‘m not- ‘m not a pervert-,” you somehow manage to choke out, and your chest immediately tightens. you sound more like an out-of-breath porn star than you do the normally sweet and assertive girl that you are, and your gut spasms with shame. fuck, fuck, fuck! this shouldn’t feel good, you really shouldn’t be getting off to something as wicked and shameful as this. but the throbbing in your core tells you otherwise; you’re enjoying being watched as shidou dicks you down mercilessly.

as if on cue, shidou laughs heartily. you grip at his arm when he snakes a hand down to pinch at your clit. heat jolts straight up your pussy, and you let out a strangled cry.

“but isn’t she beautiful, sae-chan? looks like you hit a nerve with what you said to her. she looooooves to act all shy and cute, but i’ll have you know that she’s really fun to play with.” he fucks his cock up harshly into you as if he’s making a point, and you’re practically drooling from the way he forces you to take it, your pliant walls molding to the rough lovemaking he’s showing you, all of the pleasure making you feel lightheaded.

you’re not sure what to do. you feel so good, you love having shidou’s cock inside of you. and the new angle of having him fucking upwards into you makes your pussy drool with anticipating, desperate to cum. you want him all over you: touching your bouncing tits, torturing your clit, making sure your pussy only feels good from having his length inside of you. but as much as you want to lose yourself to this world-shattering pleasure, you can’t really succumb to it because of how hyperaware you are of the little voyeur in front of you. 

sae makes it clear that he’s observing every detail. his eyes glaze all over the curves of your body, and you shudder when he stares right in between your legs, where shidou’s fucking into you. it feels like he’s judging you, like he’s telling you that he clearly has the upper hand in the situation, and that you having sex with your boyfriend only exists for his amusement.

you try your hardest to bite back how much your eyes are watering. but everything feels too good, and you’re quickly crumbling in shidou’s arms. shidou’s doing his best to get you to cum. his mouth sucks all over your neck and leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, and you whimper loudly when he bites and sucks on your earlobe.

“n-not there…! please- ryu, i can’t take it! be nice to me… no- gonna cum-,” you moan out. you’re shaking your hips lewdly, and your inner thighs burn. but fuck, you’d be damned if you said shidou wasn’t making you feel good. like the dedicated boyfriend he was, he knew exactly what he needed to do to get you to fall apart. you’re crying out, and there’s a ring of frothy white forming at the base of his cock. his balls twitch under you, and your pussy clenches and tightens up ruthlessly around his girth when you start thinking about having him creampie you.

“gonna cum already? we just got started though! i promised sae-chan such a good show too…” shidou makes an exaggerated kissing noise, and one of his big hands squeezes encouragingly at your hips. sae lets out a quiet huff as if in disagreement, but there’s a few drops of prominent pre-cum that bead at his tip. you’re not sure if sae is a masochist or just downright prideful. probably both, but despite how red and angry his cock looks, he refuses to touch himself to the sight of you.

your vision is hazing over with tears. you really don’t want to cry, don't want to look weak in front of a stranger, don’t want to look like you’re falling apart this quickly. but trying to regain control of your body when so much is happening to you feels impossible, and everything is going to your head. your core is tightening up dangerously, and the pleasure is overwhelming every part of your mind. you whine and whimper, mewling like a wounded animal, and a few scalding hot tears slip past your lashline.

it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“are you… crying?” sae spits out the words as if they’re toxic and bitter in his mouth. you shake your head feebly and try to turn your face away from the redhead, but your body seems to answer instead of your mouth. your pussy clamps down on shidou with renewed vigor, and the boy lets out a gruff “fuck!” through his gritted teeth before laughing loudly and speeding his pace up. 

you hiccup. “no- ‘m not crying- not so fast, ryu, please…! you’ll mess me up, you’ll mess up my pussy if you fuck me like that-!! ah- feels so good- you’ll kill me- i’ll die from having sex with you!”

more tears are streaming down your cheeks, leaving hot trails as they fall. sae’s eyes are blown open wide, and something akin to fear settles deep in your body when you notice how entranced he looks. it’s like he wants to gobble you whole, like a man possessed by something unholy, and you cower against shidou’s chest as if he’s able to provide any protection.

shidou giggles delightedly against your ears. “you’re saying such lewd things… you’re making me really happy, did you know that? yeah? is your boyfriend’s cock making you feel that good? gosh, you’re so naughty… i didn’t know you liked my dick that much.”

you sniffle, suddenly feeling as if all the strength was being sapped from your body. you can barely see as the tears fall freely from your eyes, staining your face. you’re aware of how awful you must look, turning into goo in shidou’s arms as every part of your body shakes. it’s horrible and vulnerable, but at the same time, it turns you on so badly with a high so unexpected that you’re scared you’ll get hooked on it. it’s the kind of pleasure that runs so deep, you know it’s going to ruin you the moment you let it fully take root inside of you.

“gonna cum- please- please, slow down- not so deep, ryu, not so deep! i can’t take it-,” you squeak out. your head lolls back weakly against shidou’s shoulders, and you moan when shidou captures your mouth into a deep kiss. his tongue swirls all around your defenseless mouth, and you sob and cry all throughout the kiss. your pussy won’t quit squeezing and hugging his cock, and being kissed through it only makes you tighten up that much more. 

the friction is just so, so addictive. you want more. you need more. you don’t want anyone else to see you falling apart in such an unglamorous way, fucked dumb and reduced to tears over a man’s dick, but your boyfriend is determined to show you off to his friend and to rip an orgasm out of you one way or the other. 

a strand of saliva clings to shidou’s mouth when he pries his lips off of you, and he glances over at sae with a smug grin. “uh-uh, none of that, babe. i know you can take it, know you can handle my cock. look at you! you’re doing so good… it’s like your pussy wants my cock more than you say you do- don’t lie to me. bet you want me to cum inside you too, fill that pretty hole of yours up with aaaaaaaaaaall of my semen. what do you think, sae-chan?”

“do you think a girl like that deserves it? look at her, crying over something as trivial as this. does the thought of being watched make you want to cry?” sae’s voice is as sharp and cold as ever, and the edge to his words make you sniffle. “what a dirty girl… it makes me almost pity her. almost.”

shidou pretends to pout, and he sticks his tongue out. you moan, your cheeks feeling sticky and hot from all of the dried tears smoothing over your skin. everything feels heavy and good, your pussy being pounded into a senseless mess from how rigorously shidou’s fucking his cock into you. it’s like he’s trying to force more and more of his cock up into your tight hole, attempting to spear himself all the way in until your hips hit the base of his cock, like he wants his tip to pry open your womb and flood you with all of his cum.

“i don’t know what else i expected out of the big meanie sae-chan… well, too bad that i’m the one that’s actually fucking her. you can be mean and awful all you want, but i think i want to cum inside of my girlfriend.” shidou laughs against the shell of your ear. a cold shudder runs down your spine when he nips at your skin again, your neck and face vulnerable to his teeth. “ooh, you’re tightening up against me again…! fuck- so fucking tight- so eager for cock, huh? yeah, i like this side of you sooooo much… you’re just sooooo cute when you can’t resist me!”

you sob openly, not sure who to turn to for help. sae won’t lift a finger, not when his tip is leaking angry pearly white beads of pre-cum and not when he’s more fixated on the fat tears welling at your eyes than anything else. you’re no better than a prey animal when shidou’s like this, determined to creampie you and imprint himself even further onto your pussy. no matter how much you writhe and try to catch a moment to breathe, he pulls you down even further on his cock and sends a jerk of hot pleasure straight up your crotch.

“cumming-,” you choke out, your words slurred out. if you were any more coherent, you’d be embarrassed with yourself for letting another man watch you orgasm this shamelessly on shidou’s cock, thighs pried and held open so that sae doesn’t miss a single detail of your pussy being spread apart and stretched out mercilessly on your boyfriend’s length. “ah- ryu- i can’t hold it in any more… your cock feels- feels too good…! ‘m cumming- ‘m cumming, i’m cumming- fuck- oh- ‘m gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum so- sooooo fucking hard…!”

your pussy clamps down like there’s no tomorrow around shidou’s dick when he angles his hips just right and yanks you down as far as he can down onto his lap. you let out a loud cry as heat rips through your body as if you’re made out of nothing. your brain is thrown into overdrive, your nerves and synapses working overtime to flood every inch of your body with pleasure and heat, your stomach furling in on itself almost painfully, pussy gushing lewdly as your juices soak shidou’s cock and your hole spurts and drools out your orgasm.

it’s like something inside of you breaks. sex with shidou always felt good, but something about this felt as if you had crossed a point of no return. you shudder and shake, reeling in the newfound pleasure. it’s like the pulsing nestled deep in your stomach pushes and pulls, like a second heartbeat tugging you downwards. it feels good, it feels so good, and you feel like a broken shell of something that was before, unable to push past the fog in your brain or the haziness in your eyes. 

you can vaguely make out the sound of shidou’s adoring laugh, and you cry out once more when he grinds up against you, rocking his hips into your ass and keeping you stuck down and trapped on his entire length. you’re squeezing him so nicely, your pretty pussy all fluttering and desperate around him, clenching him and milking him despite how shy and insistent you are that you’re above all of this. but you aren’t, and everything in this room knows that.

“hah- ahhh, you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” shidou breathes, his voice suddenly high-pitched and tinged with a crazed lust he reserves solely for you. your breath hitches in your throat when he leans towards your face and buries his head into the crook of your neck, and he inhales deep, greedy breaths of your scent. his cock is about to burst, all swollen and thick and wanting nothing more than to stuff every inch of your cunt with his semen. “that’s my girl… take it all! it isn’t meant for anyone else!”

you nearly go limp in his arms when his cum gushes into you. you can feel it shoot straight into your stomach, quite literally flooding what feels like every part of your insides. it’s hot, and it burns. and yet some part of you inwardly croons at how good it feels, like your pussy was made to catch all of shidou’s cum and to store it deep inside, to feel it swirl around you and leak out of your pulsing entrance, dripping down shidou’s engorged length and joining with the rest of the ivory ring built up at the base of his cock from all of your lovejuices mixing with his as he fucked you like an animal gone wild. 

shidou smiles to himself as he lets you sit there, with no choice but to be impaled on his dick, and he makes sure most of his cum is safely lodged deep into your insides before he maneuvers you expertly off of his length. 

you feel weak, and your limbs dangle limply as you slump over onto the mattress. shidou presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and wipes at your eyelids carefully, and you bite back a shudder when you see him lick your salty tears from his thumb. he looks down at you with a look laced with both love and desire, and you’re brought back to reality.

“i think i’ve given you a good show, sae-chan,” he coos, glancing towards the stoic redhead. “she’s all yours now! don’t have too much fun though, you hear? even though i like you quite a bit, it’ll make me sad to see my girl feeling too good from another guy’s cock.”

“your mind knows no limits,” sae breathes as if he’s annoyed with shidou, but he still steps towards you without any hesitation. you choke back a teary-eyed hiccup as he looms over you, and you let him grab onto your thighs and spread your legs apart. your cunt still feels spent and sticky, and globs of shidou’s pearly white cum drips from your fluttering hole. 

sae’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. you can’t tell if he likes the sight or not. he slots himself in between your spread legs, and he watches you with his pointed eyes. silently, carefully, like a snake laying in wait in the tall grass waiting for the moment you come down back fully to earth and understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.

your belly coils with the familiar thrums of arousal when his tip prods at your swollen clit. you let out a small gasp as sparks climb up your insides, settling somewhere deep in your stomach. you just had your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, your cunt spread apart by his thick cock, but you want dick inside of you again.

you wiggle your hips, and you think you see the edges of sae’s mouth twitch. he stares at you and the way shidou’s cum leaks out from your pussy and onto the tip of his cock.

“do you want it?” he asks plainly. you nod, knowing he’s going to be mean to you. he seems to get off on it, hurling insults at you and seeing your face stricken with tears. he seems like he’s just about to sneer at you, like he’s disgusted at the fact that he’s even in the same room as you, despite the fact that he’s literally grinding his slick cock against your sensitive folds.

“how awful. begging for another man’s cock right after having sex with your boyfriend… is this a part of some weird perverted fantasy you have? you two are perfect for each other, did you know that?” he clicks his tongue. you shudder uncontrollably. the edge to his words are sharp, and despite bracing yourself for it, you can feel hot tears kissing the corners of your eyes again. it hurts, it laces against your heart, but fuck, you’d be damned if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit.

your tears hang heavy off of your lashes, threatening to drip over your waterline, and for the first time since you’ve bared yourself to the two men, sae’s expression actually softens. you sniff pathetically, unable to form proper words, but he grabs at your hips. he leans in, and you stiffen, unsure whether to avoid him or to let him continue to come closer. you’re mesmerized by how unrealistically beautiful the redhead is: the fiery red strands of his hair are nothing like the icy turquoise of his eyes, and if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with the sensation of having an orgasm ripped from you and another man on top of you, you might have been starstruck truly.

his lips part slightly, and his tongue sneaks out from between. you clench your eyes shut, and something warm laps at your eyes, stealing your tears from your face. 

pressure taps at your cunt, and you let your head go limp as the stretch of penetration slowly grips you all over. you should be tired, should be worn out, but as the dull pleasure flickers inside you again, you find a moan bubbling up in the back of your throat. god, taking dick feels too good for you to ever not want it this badly. whereas shidou is always quick and skilled at drawing out an orgasm from you in record speeds, sae takes his time in penetrating you. it’s like he wants you to feel the stretch, wants you to feel the presence of his cock as he slides himself into you, and while your walls envelop his girth fully, he laps greedily at your heady tears.

“ah- sae…! ah- please- fuck me…,” you choke out. he bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel his balls pressed up against your hole. one hand reaches down, and you clench up around him when two fingers start to slowly rub circles into your puffy clit. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough at once, feeling him play with your clit while not moving his cock. the tender wetness of his tongue gliding over your face makes your head spin, and your pussy won’t stop gripping onto his length.

he breathes over your cheeks, the hot breath leaving you shivering. “dirty girl… who said you can demand things from me like that? shidou might let you get away with things like that because he likes it, but i’m not an easy man like that.”

“please-,” your voice sounds strained and needy, unlike your normally sweet but still firm cadence. “having your cock inside of me feels good- wanna feel more of you, please… please fuck me! i wanna feel you thrusting into me- wanna feel it, wanna have more of your cock inside- please, sae, please…”

“you don’t get to tell me how to move,” he hisses. he throbs and twitches inside you, and you can feel his balls tense up against your ass. but he draws his hips back slowly, giving one slow stroke, and that’s almost enough to make you fall apart. you throw your head back and let out a drawn out whine, your cunt fluttering violently against his swollen cock. he’s being mean to you, he’s being so, so mean to you, but your pussy feels full and good when his dick’s kissing your deepest parts.

if shidou had been pounding into you, sae keeps you begging for more. he treats his dick as if it’s something for you to earn, despite how he grinds upwards into you, the leaking head of his cock pressing straight into what feels like the entrance of your cervix. he keeps degrading you, muttering words that swim straight through your ears, and you keep crying those beautiful pearly tears that mar your vision and stain your cheeks. it drives him crazy, to break down such an innocent, beautiful girl into the worst, senseless version of herself, and he makes sure you know it, feel every second of it.

his pace is a bit faster now, but far from the animalistic sex you need to feed this uncontrollable side of yourself. the sound of your bodies connecting is nothing short of obscene, and sae drinks it all up as if you’ve mixed it personally just for him. you might as well have; you were meant to be offered up to him like some kind of sacrifice on a silver platter from the start, before you were even aware of the predicament you would be in.

“harder- harder- want more- please, fuck me harder…!” you sob pathetically. it’s humiliating, having to beg for a man’s cock in such a demeaning manner. you know words alone can’t convince sae, so you press your aching thighs apart further, using your hands to press them closer to your chest. the change in your position has his cock hitting deeper and more roughly into you, and your moans go from desperate cries to throaty chokes. you feel like you’re suffocating over your own breath, but the way you buck your hips against sae’s proves that there are far more pressing things in your mind than self-preservation. 

sae grits his teeth, and he slams his hips into you. his cock pumps in and out of your greedy hole, and your cunt grips onto him like it doesn’t want to let go. fuck—it almost makes sae mad over how good your body feels, especially after getting what feels like shidou’s sloppy seconds. his abs tense up as he sucks in a deep breath, the focus in his teal eyes starting to shake around the edges.

“thank you- thank you, thank you, thank you-,” you pant out helplessly when the full strokes are finally, finally where you wanted them to be at the start. you shake your head back and forth, entire body trembling and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes you. “feels so good- cock feels so good inside of me, sae- want to cum on it… want your cock to make me cum- make me pussy cum…!”

“you really are the worst,” sae laughs. his hair is sticking to his forehead, and despite how awful he is to you, he looks beautiful. “begging for another man’s cock in front of your boyfriend? don’t you have any sense of shame?”

“feels good-,” you weakly choke out, as if that was an excuse. you know shidou doesn’t mind. he was the one to drag you into this mess in the first place. sae really enjoys this farce, this holier-than-thou act, when everyone in the room knows that he’s just as twisted and depraved as you are. it takes two to have sex like this, and you sure as hell aren’t alone. “make me cum- please, i wanna cum…! i’ve been so good for you.”

sae hums to himself. his cock pulses inside of you. your pussy’s just as shameless as your mouth is, milking him every second he stays buried into your hole, and it feels like your inner walls are begging him for his cum too. you must really like being treated like this, your pussy filled up over and over again with cum, not caring if it was your boyfriend or a man that your boyfriend happened to feel comfortable handing you over to. what a greedy girl you were.

“you wanna cum?” he sneers. “do you think you deserve it? all you’ve done is lay there and cry and take my dick. so demanding…”

you shudder, seeing stars. you can feel your orgasm building up and laying in wait deep in your belly, just begging for a few more harsh thrusts to topple you over the edge. shidou had fucked you out so good before, and you needed a taste of that pleasure again. you already felt so good stretched out and humiliated like this on sae’s cock that you could only imagine how much better finally getting your release would feel.

“you’re so mean to me… just wanna cum-,” you sniffle out. your voice wobbles, and sae grunts when a fresh wave of tears threaten to overtake you. it’s embarrassing how a crying girl might be the thing that gets him to snap, so he grits his teeth and bucks his hips harshly into you. 

it’s your fault. all of this is your fault. he can’t admit to himself that this turns him on, that seeing you sob and wail and writhe has him wanting to blow his fat load inside of you. that would be too much for him, to cum inside of you and then have you cry just from the sheer pleasure of it. to take dick so good that it makes you fall apart and bawl senselessly as if you’re his girl, not shidou’s.

“yeah, that’s right-,” he grunts under his breath. “go ahead and cum then. if you really want to end up as a mess on my cock, then i’m not stopping you. make a show for your boyfriend then, huh? let him see you crying and screaming from how good you feel on my dick. you have him to thank for landing you in this position to begin with.”

you swallow back a shaky inhale. your vision had been blurred over a long time ago, but right now, with your entire body weighed down with nonstop arousal, you feel like you’re seeing stars. it feels so good and it hurts, but it hurts in a way that has you moving your hips lewdly and wanting him to stuff your already cumdrenched pussy with his load. 

he thrusts sharply in you. again and again and again, until his entire length is stretching you and bullying your cunt open, his cockhead slamming into your g-spot over and over until the pangs inside of your pussy start pounding against the inside of your skull. your moans are melting away into incoherent slurred noises, barely gasping out his name.

“sae- sae…! ohhhhh, fuck- fuck, so deep- so hard…” your body shakes, and your voice sounds unrecognizable. sae likes this too much, likes seeing how broken you are because of his own machinations. he grits his teeth, the bed shaking and his pace nearly falling apart, his thrusts messy and awful and everything you need.

you cum with a silent cry. your back arches, and your hands scramble to try to grip onto anything to steady yourself. your fingernails dig into your own flesh, your thighs aching and screaming in pain despite the numbing pleasure that crashes entirely over you. fuck, everything feels so fucking good, and your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears as your orgasm grips every one of your synapses. tears glide down your face without any restraint, and your sobs echo throughout your ears as you turn into a truly fucked out mess.

sae grunts, his own voice low and muffled, when he feels your cunt clamping down on him and a sudden warmth engulfing his whole cock. his self control wavers when he feels you creaming around him, your pussy milking his cock. it’s like your walls are clinging to every inch, every ridge of his length and refusing to let go, pulsing all around him like you want him to unload inside of you and paint your insides completely white again. of course you do, you’ve been begging for it this entire time. being creampied once by your boyfriend isn’t simply enough for you anymore, sae knows, you need him to do it again and to overwhelm you with his twisted desire.

you gasp when he fucks you roughly through your orgasm. it’s almost too much, your stunned cunt keening with overstimulation when the faint sparks start flying again. sae mutters something you can’t quite pick up, and he slams into you hard, enough to have you recoiling backwards.

his cum explodes inside of you as he hangs his head, his breathing unsteady as he stays buried deep inside of you. it’s as if he wants to drown out shidou’s cum with his own, scalding lines of white cum. it’s blasphemous, how good it feels, and if sae wasn’t feeling so out of body right now, he would be mad at the fact that a mere girl—shidou’s girlfriend, no less—could knock him off of his high throne like this.

you don’t get any reprieve from the whole thing. sae yanks himself out of you the moment his grounded rationale seeps back into his brain, and you whimper in protest. your spent hole feels so empty without a cock to stretch you out, but you feel dazed and heavy and warm. their cum mixing together fills you up, and some of it leaks out of you in a lewd rivulet, dripping in such a tantalizing manner down the flesh of your ass.

sae leans over to grip your face harshly, tilting your face so that you meet his eyes. his hold on you tightens to an almost painful extent when he sees the final remnants of your tears swimming in a clear layer over your puffy eyes, the evaporated marks on your damp cheeks, your lashes wet from everything that you had faced. 

you’re pretty, pretty when you’re stained with cum and tears and all of the filth that sae’s dumped onto you.

shidou slinks up behind him with his usual strange smile, and he snakes his arms over sae’s neck from behind. “what a good show, sae-chan! my girl’s amazing, isn’t she? look at her now… ooh, it makes me want to fuck her all over again.”

sae sucks in a deep breath as he watches shidou prance over to you to press a sickly kiss to your forehead, and his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. shidou peers up at sae as if to mock him when he kisses your eyes, the taste of your salty tears spreading across the inside of his mouth.

it’s irritating. it’s annoying. his cock stirs again, and his lower stomach flares with warmth again.

was this the game shidou had planned from the start? sae didn’t care; the result wouldn’t have changed. the only certain thing now is the way these two men circle you like a pair of vultures descending upon their next meal, the hunger in their eyes primal and filled with an unspoken anticipation. you should be cowering away from the intensity, but you’re right there with them.

shidou giggles as a large hand caresses your bare knee. “that’s a good girl… now that you’ve taken each of us individually and sae-chan’s gotten all nice and warmed up, it’s time to get to the main event, don’t you think?”

“...the way you talk about it like it’s some game makes my skin crawl,” sae’s cold voice sighs. something sticky and hard brushes against your calves when two hands coax your legs open again, and your cunt clenches weakly with arousal, heat licking around your insides shakily. your cunt, still leaking with cum, is bared fully for the two men to enjoy in their own respective ways.

you close your eyes momentarily, your tear-filled vision finally turning to black. 

“ready to take both of us at once?”

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to these vetted gofundmes to help families!

[itsss4t4n]

How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that. 

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle. 

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had 

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!" 

"What?" 

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds). 

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon." 

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of. 

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit" 

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say. 

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay. 

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible.  You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you. 

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug * 

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care. 

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.

[eldrith]

˗ˏˋ On Sunny Days I Go Out Walking ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x reader words: 3k synopsis: Jacaerys is learning that the world moves on. contents: angst. mourning, grief, major character death. mentions of depression, anxiety. sad jace notes: i was listening to the song francis forever by mitski and this somehow showed up fully written in 20 mins. also some inspo from mind over matter.... im so happy idk what else to say. super happy fic im happy and fine. this does not follow canon, jace aged up, no spoilers rly but like... iykyk. ps im sorry @softspiderling for what ive done. the gun is at my temple feedback is appreciated <3 requests open. masterlist

THE DARK IS NO FRIEND OF JACAERYS VELARYON.

A flicker, the single room illuminated in the obsidian of the castle at such an hour; the dark crawls upon him, slow as shadows, stealthy as the beast that lingers empty within his stomach. 

The dark has begun to infect him. 

Seeping slowly into skin, carving through into the sponginess of his bones - some shadowed poison, twisting and lingering in the blood that dawdles slowly through his veins. The quiet is deafening, in the way it had been up in the North those months ago; when snow tumbled from the chasmous skies in the dead of night, a blanket of reticence chilling him to his heart. 

Breaths tumble scarce from his lips. The darkness crawls, it whispers; fingers, blotched and stained, though he has scarcely written one word upon the parchment in the hour since he’s crawled from the refuge of bed. 

Perhaps, if things were different, there would be hands; hands, sleek and gentle, sliding over the slope of his shoulder, wrapping to embrace him from behind. A sweet whisper in his ear, encouraging. A ward to the shadows; though darkness swallows up any memory of that touch, the memory of which becomes more and more scarce with each breath he takes. 

Waves crash in the distance, twisting the dagger further into his gut. The word stares up at him - and he, avoiding the swimming vision, stares out into the pain of a world so large, so cold.

Dearest, 

He cannot bring himself to write what comes next. Your name, so sweet - your name, the world. His limbs frozen in fear - to pour his self into this letter, to release the pressure that has built and built and festered and rolled its beastly body upon itself to reveal a soft underbelly; a sharp pain below his ribs, one trembling hand pressing against the lids of his eyes, vision swimming in soft patterns. His lips wobble with poorly concealed anguish.

Jacaerys is no stranger to the feeling of loss - a swallowing, consuming dissolution, the eclipse of any warmth with the cold strike of grief. His father, fathers - and then when he lost his brother, he lost himself; anger, mistrust, pain. Your hands, the sweet embrace of your warm breast, heart beating strong enough for both of you when he thought his own might stop. You had been the one to suggest it, back then. 

The irony of it makes a vicious wave of bile begin to rise in his throat, fingers trembling as he holds a quill, shaking his head to rid himself of the barrage of sorrow that tears at his chest. 

You were there. In the middle of the night, when he could not find rest; in the peak of day, when the sun served nothing but a reminder of the laugh he would not ever hear again, you’d been there. Write a letter to him, you’d suggested. 

Jacaerys did not heed your suggestion for many days; a young man, festered with anger, revenge, grief; your insistence, despite his vicious sorrow, breaking through and softening the blow of life without Lucerys. With shaky hands he wrote the letter, one day. Brother, he’d addressed it to - and then, after sealing it in a bottle, had sent it into the tides in the early hours of the morning, turning to relieve his grief upon your shoulder. You’d held him in the wet sand until the sun rose in the sky. 

You would want him to do this, he knows - you, always pushing him to be better, to speak and be understood, to listen and understand, to feel, to love. To prepare, because when the time comes, when the crown is heavy upon his head, he will rule well - and you… to rule aside him. 

And that’s what it was for, in the end. You were what it was all for. 

But nothing of that remains; the quill hovers above the parchment, suspended in time. Jacaerys’ hand trembles with the weight of what he knows he could never convey. How can you express the loss of the entire world, your entire being, everything you are, into one piece of parchment? How can he confess that when you were consumed by those depths, he too was lost within them?

Jacaerys swallows the lump that rises; the parchment before him is warbled, dipping and swimming in his vision. His grasp shakes - with a soft whimper of desolation he realizes his foolish hand has marred your name, that sweet word, upon the parchment. Tainted, smudged now with darkness.

Your name, so sweet from the curl of your lips - lips now so cold to the touch, blue and purple with the unrelent of the ocean. That haunting thought - did you realize, in those last moments? 

Did you understand when you were going down, aflame and prepared to meet the Stranger? Was it Luke, who welcomed you with pale lips pulled into that ceaseless grin wherever your soul went after your body was dragged under the currents? 

A choked gasp, tears splattering upon the parchment.

Jacaerys used to grow exasperated with how Luke seemed to follow you and him around - blathering ceaselessly about anything he could think of; a menace, snickering when Jace threw glares at him yet beaming when you sent him a sly wink. You told Jace you didn’t mind Luke’s company, so Jace grew to enjoy it, too. 

After all, you’d always wanted a younger brother. 

Gods, why not me? The salinity mixes with the ink, tainting the curve of the first letter of your name as it begins to bleed through. He cannot stop the tears, his gasping sobs swallowed by the dark of eve. 

The letter is shoved away from him expeditiously, a heavy cloak falling upon him as he tries to suck in breaths; letting loose an involuntary groan of sorrow, his fingers tug at the laces of his tunic, much too tight against the heart beating into his chest.  The parchment flutters to the floor.

The cusp of adulthood was tread only by the hand within his own, the smiles in dark, the terse furrow of strategizing brows in the light of the council room. Jacaerys is a man, now - grasping, unsteady in the ground that has been ripped and overturned, the stench of fresh earth suffocating. The pillow that lies in the empty space of his mattress, illuminated by the second of two lit candles; dragged with detached hands that night when the raven came home, but you did not. 

It is beginning to smell less and less like you - like the dahlia blossoms you’d clipped in the gardens and refined into oils and pressed between the pages of Jace's old journals, the sweets you’d sneak into his chambers after a visit to the kitchens. Perhaps worse - with a violent twist of his gut, a panic; what will he do when the pillow is absorbed, the last of your scent snuffed by his own? Where will you have gone? 

He cannot bring himself to lay aside that pillow; with a shaky breath, he discards his tunic, running a shaky hand over a clammy chest, wishing it felt more like your own palm.

In only a few hours, the sun will wake. 

The darkness over the island will dissipate, the fog creeping along the coast in a slow crawl; and Jacaerys will rise, bleary and red-eyed, throat hoarse. He will break fast alone, as he does these days. He will rip apart pastries just to discard them upon the plate uneaten, take a sip of tea and force it down his throat; he will recall how you used to dunk little cookies into your own, how you often preferred to take yours with his mother when time allowed it, because you both enjoyed a later tea. 

He will walk to the hall, see to his duties - the Prince of Dragonstone; he will stare at the seat you used to occupy, recall the day he’d lifted you upon the table in isolation, how you’d sighed with a frilly laugh into his neck as he’d kissed the expanse of your face. He will walk to Aegon’s Garden, but he won’t go all the way towards the end where the freshly turned soil of the memorial grounds bears a new member.

The darkness will dissipate; the sun will rise.

The sun will come, and he will remember the way your hair shined in the early mornings, slumped upon the pillow, tickling his nose as he woke. 

The sun will rise every morning, but you will not. 

JACAERYS USED TO LOVE WATER.

He is kin of salt and sea; in one way or another - and the ocean, a soft presence, some secret rebirth. In youth, it held him like he was its own - wading, throwing stones, floating on lazy afternoons. Sailing with his father, slipping on the quarterdeck, diving into the captain’s quarters under rough seas. 

Jacaerys stares down at the water that surrounds him: Things are no longer what they used to be.

The bathwater is warm - his skin, pinked by the heat as tendrils of steam rise, a handmaid lifting his arm to scrub underneath his nails. The bath is full; he stares helplessly upon the ripples that undulate over the surface, eyes harrowed by his own reflection. A man he does not recognize. 

And a blink, then the face that stares back is so similar to his own; carved of the same bedrock stone, birthed of the same love, kissed by the same gods. Not himself, but one who knows him just as well, as close as one… a brother. Panic, a flash of jaws larger than the moon - pain, the wail of a lifelong companion, swallowed by a beast. A freefall, wind in ears. The cold, tumultuous sea, swallowing yelps, gasps, struggling to stay upright amidst screams for mother, for brother. Then, hair; not his own, nor his brother’s, but a reflection upon the refracted waves, a scream warbled as water fills sweet, kind lungs. The reflection of the one who knew him more than he knew himself - a smile, a gasp of pain. Legs, thrashing against currents, littered with arrows and tangled by a thick riding dress; skirts heavy, riding armor dragging to depths as hands grasp fruitlessly at a splintered castaway of shipwreck. 

This life; merely borrowed time from the Stranger. 

His hands tremble under the soft grasp of the houseworker; he ignores the looks of concern, sliding back until he is nearly submerged, letting the water flood his senses. This life - bright skies that leak through the curtains he continuously draws closed - soaked and numb, deafening silence as water trickles into his ear canals, an urge to breathe though he is submerged nearly to the line of lashes that weep from below his eyes. A voice asks meekly if he’ll be breaking his fast in his chambers this morning. He does not hear himself respond.

A rippled noise as his hand slides back into the water, the handmaids rising with worried looks before bowing, exiting to give the prince his privacy. He is left alone, isolated, small. Tired.

Is this what it was like? 

The cold, empty silence that followed your fall, bones splitting at the surface, water swallowing you, meeting with the same cruel depths that somewhere still tether Luke’s body to a watery grave.

Do wait up for me, my love… Your voice suffocates him. His throat tightens, head thumping against the back of the tub, tilting his head back to suck in a watery, ragged gasp, eyes screwing shut. Hot tears upon his cheeks. I heard they’re preparing lamb roast this evening, you’d told him as you’d straightened the clasp of his cloak. Such a sweet observation - his favorite of the meals the cooks oft prepared. Your bravery - a promise, a resolute promise. 

You’re ill, Jacaerys, you’d reminded him when he suggested once more he should come with you. You must rest. His worry was not easily concealed; yet you, with a smile so graceful it lit up the dragonmont; you, knowing him as familiar as your own reflection; you, brushing his hair away from his cheeks, poking his nose. -But do wait up for me, my love, and we can share dinner. I heard they’re preparing lamb roast this evening. 

He’d sighed then, worry lacing his heart as he roved his hands over your hips - for the last time. Your voice was so sweet, playful. I'll be fine, Jace. Don’t you trust me? 

A question asked rhetorically; yet he’d nodded, pressing a kiss to your hairline, straightening the riding armor over your dress, murmuring into your skin. I trust you with my entire being - with my life, and every life after. 

Your breath, shuttering as you tilted your head up, brushing your lips against his, whispering: And you, with mine. 

But the lamb roast went cold in the kitchen that evening. You did not return. A raven, broken whispers, his mother with unshed tears, choking as she grasped his shoulders, cradled his head - whispering: I’m so sorry, my sweet boy. 

The tears ripple into the bathwater. 

Jacaerys drifts, heart numb; harsh waves, sharp laughter, whispered kisses.

LIGHT IS DILUTED.

These days, the sun beats upon the castle; scarce clouds that begin to grow and cluster upon the shoreline, rumbling as they begin the slow descent upon the island. 

The scent of pine lingers in his nose; a sharp break from the salty air of coast, Aegon’s Garden is cloistered with tall trees, swaying in the breeze. The light that filters through the needles high above flickers in his vision; dappled shadows spreading across the path, crawling in a slow lumber towards the end of the garden.

He can feel you here, more than most places. 

The soft breeze in the wind, a fleeting touch of your nose against his neck. The trickling water of a stream nearby, crawling its way towards the sea - the bubble of your laughter between sheets, his fingers tickling your side gently, your hands pushing him away and then pulling him close. 

Those perfumed oils. gentle, sweet dahlia petals - lingering upon his clothing, upon his face after you'd pressed a kiss to his cheek. The call of gulls in the distance, the ones that'd flee when you and Jace, wild and yelling in joy upon Vermax's back, gave chase across the glassy refraction of the sea. Quiet afternoons under the pines, his head in your lap - he'd read you the history of house targaryen; you'd thread your fingers through his hair, and hum his favorite song.

Here, near the Dragon's Tail - where he taught you to weave wild grassroots and flowers together, and make a crown. You'd worn yours to supper proudly one evening, coaxing a grin from his mother and uncle alike when you'd placed the crown, wilting and too large, unto Joffrey's little head.

His steps are heavy; boots crunch softly on gravel as the pines sway, their needles whistling in the breeze. A sparse raindrop upon his shoulder.  

Silence passes until he's carried himself much too far - a tightness in his chest, breath coming in quicker as he nears the corner of the garden.

The intention was to turn around; though lost in the emptiness of his mind, watching a fat bumbling bee struggle to float its way past him, recalling when you'd helped Luke mend his split knee after tumbling from the low-lumbering branch of the tree near the Sept - Jacaerys’ steps slow, then stop altogether as the path bends and returns from whence it began. 

He told Baela he would not venture this far; though she told him it would be good - even offered to accompany him. The taste of his lip between his teeth has grown metallic as he stares ahead, eyes burning, heart stopped. 

Beauty is never consolatory, you’d told him once. He stares, heart pinched - a plethora of flowers - and there, carved in stone, fresh. 

His vision swims, taking a staggering step forward. The bush of forget-me-nots - vibrant, full of life - a soft, wistful blue, so matching the very shade that his brother oft favored. The flowers have grown in the months, spreading delicate beauty - indeed, not consolatory - and curling around the name: Lucerys Velaryon. 

And there, just beside them, white blossoms of dahlia. Your name.

His knees buckle. 

The ground welcomes the brunt of his weight upon his knees, trembling as he gasps - buds have just begun to open - white, bleeding with a deep red, leaking through and bursting sharply against the forget-me-nots. A new memorial grave. 

The buds flourish under the broken sunlight, even as light rain begins to kiss over the stones, sending heavenly tears over your name, over Luke’s. 

A glance upwards; some self-comfort, a seek for the dragons which circle the sky - the sunlight is gapped between the trees, swaying as rain falls from invisible clouds. Rainshine, you used to call it: Rainshine, Jace - You’d laugh, tugging him outside onto the ramparts, twisting the two of you in some lazy waltz through rain, smiling up at him, sunshine in your eyes, in your hair, in his heart. 

Tears fall from his aching eyes, though he is unsure if they’d begun when he entered the garden or just now, as he’s crumpled to his knees. A leaf falls, fluttering to land on the path beside him, orange and yellowed from the liquidation of summer. 

He stares in disbelief at the forgotten frond, settling itself onto the pavement, so ready to be trampled, discarded, destroyed. Some sick cycle; a long season through, fruit rotting unpicked, sunshine and days of warmth melting fresh and revealing upturned decomposition of below. Summer is ending.  

The smell of earth, of ocean; the sweet sick of flowers, once so lovely, now nauseating. It hits him within the chest: this summer cannot end - you are still here. His heart, suffocated as he stares, hands beginning to shake. 

Fingernails cake with dirt, grasping at the soft earth that lies before him; the heavy smell has begun to take over, a thick, lingering sweetness that has turned bitter in his mouth, rotting dahlias festering in the late heat of summer, soon to freeze and wilt in the cold of winter coming. 

“No,” His voice is hoarse. His head shakes, palms to the ground, reaching for whatever part of you remains in this cold earth. The sound of the ocean, mocking; The rattle of a hoarse whimper, tears hot and lethal against the apple of his cheeks, “Don’t go.” 

His words remain empty, heard only by the flowers blooming in the sorrow of the garden, forgotten by ears long since gone. “Don’t make me, please,” He sobs, now - eyes squeeze, tears fertilizing the deep roots of your flowers, “Please, don’t make me leave you.” He whispers, voice cracked and trembling with emotion. Don't make me leave you in the decay of summer. 

He remains, miserably curled between your memorial and his brother’s, pillowed by his hands as though he is once again a boy; head bowed, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Pine, earth, flowers - it is overwhelming, so thick he might choke on it. A blurry glimpse against the rain, against the hues of white, of red, of blue - the light which filters down upon him, a mockery - bright, much too alive in the garden of death. 

Jacaerys’ head tilts back as he sucks in a gasp, tears leaking hot over his red cheeks, a dizzying wave of vertigo spinning the world around him - stumbling backwards down an endless staircase, reaching for the cold, lifeless hands which once held him so lovingly.

The leaf finds itself in his hands - a blurry hole through it, tiny, from the jaws of some insect; eaten through, a skeleton of summer. 

There is something etched into it by the hands of nature; though he swears it almost spells your name. It is crushed with the weight of his fingers, disintegrating into the stream that trickles just beyond the flowerbeds, pulled along, towards the deep blue of endless sea to watch over you and Lucerys' forgotten graves.

Jacaerys curls in on himself, wracked with quiet sobs that dwindle into a tranquil stare at the blotches of sunlight through the trees; he should have let Baela come, or perhaps sought the company of his mother - the garden is awfully empty, the world awfully empty - in such a large absence. 

His fingers trail shakily over the curved letters of your name, carved into the stone as he stares, tears ceaselessly leaking, chest hiccuping. “P-please,” He whispers again against the straining pain in his chest, lips brushing the earth, trying to recall the sound of your voice, the feeling of your lips. The twisting days, shortening with the fall of each eve; soon, he will have to face winter, and you will be left in summer. His tears are salted; they sting over his lips as he whispers against the stone of your name. “Please, I don't want to. Don’t let me leave you.” 

Whispers in the wind that almost sound like you, calling his name. But there is no answer.

Leaves rustle in the breeze, the sunlight dapples across his body, the birds sing, the flowers bloom.

The world continues to move on without you.

taglist: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne @uhnanix and also to @cregan-starks ily. @dipperscavern pls do not revoke my writing skills. also i need that shotgun pls and thx

[turnstileskyline]

fall river massachusetts late 1892-1893 dash simulator

🥃 remember1794 Follow

lmaoo of course l*zz*e was a member of the temperance movement….. broads like that are always the worst

📿 godbeliever Follow

and??? are you saying that being against the overconsumption of alcohol is somehow akin to being a brutal murderer?????

🥃 remember1794 Follow

yes

🪓 bordenupdates

dont bother engaging with remember1794 his entire blog is posts about the whisky rebellion of 1794 or about how much he hates women

#notborden

7,394 notes

👒 gibsons-a-girl Follow

look all im saying is that miss lizzie is unmarried and hasn’t had ANY suitors… and maggie is unwed too. im just saying!

👞 shoeshiningisawomansduty Follow

im so tired of you sapphists projecting your filthy disease onto everyone. no one cares.

👒 gibsons-a-girl Follow

thats not what your mother said to me last night

👒 gibsons-a-girl Follow

wait why is your blog just photographs of mens footwear

#wild ass site

1,808 notes

❄️ alaskafan Follow

i think the uncle did it bc what the fuck kind of middle name is vinnicum

❄️ alaskafan Follow

AND hes a butcher ? might as well write murderer on his head lmaoooooooo

❄️ alaskafan Follow

bordenupdates just vagueposted about me

#hope this is ok to rb op bc LMAO

9 notes

🐋 righttowhale Follow

ever since the 1850s big petroleum has been working to destroy the whaling industry, backed by the naturalists who find a problem with the hunting of whales, despite there being an abundance of the beasts in the sea! do not reject whaling – trust when whale experts say that these creatures will never be at a serious risk, don't fall for the propaganda of big petroleum

⚓️ sunkenmen

what the fuck are you talking about. did a whale kill your parents or something.

🐋 righttowhale Follow

yes, actually.

⚓️ sunkenmen

. sorry

#sorry for your loss but your politics suck

94,726 notes

📿 godbeliever Follow

i don't believe that women are capable of a crime so brutal. even when judith slayed holofernes, she did so by the guiding of God. her actions were virtuous in nature. women, being of the fairer sex, who serve God as lizzie does are not capable of a murder so foul. jezebel was able to do as she did because she spurned Him.

👒 gibsons-a-girl Follow

stop lumping sapphist lizzie defenders with these freaks.

#this discourse has been incredible #anyway block godbeliever

3,552 notes

🕯 literate-lover-19

the adventures of sherlock holmes my beloved

2 notes

🧺 thepoppypamphleteer Follow

theres nothing wrong an opium reliance.

🧺 thepoppypamphleteer Follow

i always wanted to fuck her

437 notes

🧵 spindlecity

does anyone wanna take me to the columbia exposition :( i know its in illinois but still

0 notes

[cielwritings]

Sebastian x fem ciel pregnancy headcanons?

! Sebastian x Fem!Pregnant!Ciel !

this will sound odd but i absolutely love writing pregnancy related things!! i always wanted to be a mom :,3 it's fun projecting that want onto characters as well.

note: i didn't change ciel's name, because apparently it's a girls french name! yet, i see some people say it's a masculine word?

the website i was told female name, had listed some characters/people with ciel as their name. it was mainly girls, so im keeping it

enjoy!

All of Sebastian's sternness would go straight to zero once Ciel came to him saying she was pregnant.

No more corsets, no more excessive exercise, and definitely no more work. If Ciel has meetings, she'll attend, but if it's murder cases, Sebastian will deal with it while the other servants take care of her.

It's crucial to keep it a secret from everyone, though. So, he'll say she fell ill (which helps the morning sickness issue) and he needs to take care of her business.

All the servants are on their best behavior due to it.

Demons are beasts. Beasts have their own cycles. They have a natural breeding instinct like the rest. Though, Ciel wasn't expecting just how clingy the man would be with her.

He typically doesn't go to bed, or even lays down. But seeing her curled up with a pillow supporting her belly is one of the most gorgeous sights he's ever seen. He'll crawl in bed behind her, chin on her shoulder, rubbing her belly slowly.

Whenever she gets changed in the morning, he scoops her belly up and lifts the weight off her for a moment. She always lets out a sweet sigh of relief, melting into his arms. He could stand there for hours doing it, it weighing absolutely nothing to him. However, she had business.

Her cravings had gotten gradually more odd. She'd sometimes request something normal, then the next minute she'd gag and ask for something vile. Specifically, strawberry ice cream with curry and paprika on top.

Her absolute favorite thing to eat while pregnant, though? Sebastian's pasta. His pasta, which would be absolutely drenched in some sort of cheese, which was mixed with a few drops of frosting for a slight sweet flavor. She'd scarf it down, and Sebastian would have to wipe her mouth with a napkin.

She loved baby name consideration. She'd pick out 4 names for both sexes at the LEAST in case a miracle (in her eyes) happened. Though, regardless of the wide array of names, they were for sure naming their baby either Samuel or Nellie.

In the end, they had two twin girls. It reminded Ciel about something... but she shooed her thoughts away.

The birth was a home one, done in a soundproof room. Sebastian helped deliver the baby, and after, Ciel would frequently apologize (albeit not verbally) about the 'disgusting' sight he had to see.

"There's no need to do all of this. I've seen much worse in my time, my lady.."

"I told you, just call me Ciel. You just delivered our twin girls..."

"Very well then, Ciel."

..Oh, they named the girls Nellie and Stella, by the way!

[idensgarden]

you guys seemed to like my last au ranting post so. here we go

some more takes on classic gravity falls aus because i like reimagining things. Here's my 2 cents on reverse falls, which. i havent seen the visual novel if thats considered canon or anything to the au. i think uts like batman now where everything you apply to it is canon if it vaguely follows the premise

from what i've seen, it's more of a situation swap than a personality swap, so most parts of the au will follow that. but pacifica didn't come to gravity falls for the summer- she had to move here because her stupid dad got involved in a scandal or something and had to lay low. the northwests have inherited enough money to last them a good while, but apparently they can't go spending it on "trivial things", like pacifica's very important designer clothes. so she has to get... a... a... god, i can't say it without gagging, a JOB!!! at a worn down car sales shack!!! hold on. let me add a cut here.

okay im back. alright. at her job, pacifica meets gideon gleeful, who's basically gideon but less entitled, and surprisingly a bit like mabel. he's immediately the most annoying person pacifica has ever met. but he's the only company she has, besides mr. gleeful, who is way too cheerful to be pleasant and gives off major discomforting vibes, and mrs. gleeful, who makes her reflect on the lack of affection she receives from her actual mother and creates a deep pit of sorrow in her heart. just girly things.

(since gideon is much more pleasant in this au, his mother is much more stable, and takes the role of the primary caretaker since bud is too normal for me to write about)

the other employees are bad, but could be worse. the sleepy cashier with eyebags for eons and ROBERT written uncaringly on his nametag, and the overachieving pink-haired errand-girl who seemed to have a different name each time you asked her and a cartoonishly large bow on her head.

the longer pacifica works at her new summer job, the more fond she grows of it. when she's not hearing about gideon's annoying ramblings about wanting to be on broadway and the melancholy of settling for a mascot gig, she's actually feeling this gross sense of pride after actually working for something in her life, and getting sandwiches made for her by ms. gleeful (eventually nicknamed aunt agnes). pacifica hates to admit it and it keeps her up at night, but she's happier here than she's ever been. which is why she doesn't leave when she notices strange things happening around gravity falls.

ms. gleeful denies it, but gideon totally agrees with her- something weird is going on in this town. pacifica, going through an old car with an undefinable model much too damaged to repair, finds a journal in the glovebox, embedded with an X over an eye, and from here, the show plays out a bit like normal gravity falls. give it that unnerving, darker touch that the northwest manor episode had. some early episode ideas:

a full episode based on the what's-his-face comic, obviously without the mystery twins. pacifica gets a pimple, and thinks that since she's starting to get older, she's losing her adolescent beauty, and thus becoming less of a 'valuable asset' to her family. what choice does a girl have but demon magic? i hope this one doesn't backfire!!!

after the last episode, the effects of pacifica's fear of not meeting the beauty standard linger. after catching pacifica staring at multi level marketing get-pretty schemes, ms. gleeful decides to revoke her phone and take the kids camping, saying that technology is evil. it turns out she's right, as pacifica's phone has grown restless after it's abandonment and transformer'd into a beast, which is hunting them down in the forest slenderman-style.

pacifica doesn't believe in the tooth fairy- she's almost 13! it takes her a terribly long time to be appropriately afraid when it gets one tooth from her (gideon convinces her to just TRY putting one under her pillow) and becoming obsessed with harvesting her perfect teeth. inspired by ckret2's goldilocks au!! :)

and then comes episode four...

on her break (thank god!), pacifica sits down to watch some trashy tv, but can't stop seeing ads for this flashy tourist attraction called the mystery shack. at first she rolls her eyes, but the lights and the colors and all the cool effects just look to awesome to pass up. this town must be getting to her, because she'd never indulge herself with something like that before, but now she just has to go. she works overtime for money to see the shack, and gideon uses his allowance to go, too. (pacifica is surprised. why is he spending money on this? he said he doesn't even want to go!!! (gideon just wants to get closer with his first friend)).

the shack is run by a professional conman, who collects and shuffles the money dramatically at a fancy desk, called stanford pines (not actually, this is pre-ford). his employees were vigilant, and yet always exhausted- a goth girl with a sharp tongue and a bodyguard who always seemed uncomfortable in his suit.

but customers really came for the twins; mason and mabel, psychic slash drama slash comedy duo. the townspeople practically (sometimes literally) threw money at them. they were the same age as pacifica and gideon, but had this air of disconnect to them. in all their posters they had the same matching yellow earrings, contrasting their bedazzled blue outfits. their hair also seemed to be greying, even at such an early age.

pacifica was not happy to have spent her 45 dollars on watching two kids read fortunes more vaguely than a cookie and tell dumb jokes and do stupid dances, but gideon seemed jazzed.

the next day, there's a knock at the office door. the twins came to visit! pacifica is pissed. mabel asks to chat with gideon, and pacifica tells her to screw off, but gideon rushes out of the door with mabel, 0 hesitation. he probably has a crush on her for a bit like in canon, but it doesn't go anywhere.

dipper invites himself in, offers that pacifica could offer him some tea free of charge, and pacifica almost thanks him. she lashes out at him, and quickly learns that he is all bark and no bite, curling up like a scared kitten in the recliner. she picks on him a bit, barely noticing the glow of his earring, before mabel comes back out with gideon.

"alright, that'll be all! hey, can gideon take work off today?" she says. "we want to go get makeovers! you know, since we're best friends now and all."

for some reason, pacifica feels a strong pang of rage. but she doesn't act on it, just standing there dumbfounded as mabel doesn't wait for an answer, and gideon skips out of the shop with his new best friend.

it keeps pacifica up at night. she should be important to him!!! wasn't she his first friend?

wasn't he hers?

when gideon finally comes back, pacifica is still angry, but she's relieved. at least that wacko girl is gone- nevermind, she's back, and she's taking gideon out for tacos and pedicures.

it goes on and on and on. pizza night this, karaoke night that, arts and crafts here, a cool party there... pacifica knew that she should be mad. she should be frustrated- she was pacifica northwest! she should be the center of everything, she should be invited to these stupid get togethers, she deserved it!

but she wasn't angry about that. she was angry about gideon. and above all else, she was lonely.

so she did the responsible thing and communicated with gideon about how she felt and I'm lying I'm lying to you right now. she actually hunts down mason, demands that he spill the ulterior motives of mabel pines, and yanks him up by his shirt collar like a cartoon bully. at first, mason won't talk, but pacifica drops him on the ground and gets a good look at his stupid dumb constellation birthmark. she asks him about it.

"it's... not actually a birthmark. it's,, like a tattoo." mason confesses. "it's a long story. with a really gloomy sleep paralysis demon at the center of it. please don't tell anyone."

pacifica has no idea why it's that important, but utilizes her leverage, and blackmails mason into telling the truth because shes kind of a dick. he tells her that the whole mystery shack is a con made up of conmen and conwomen and conpeople, and mabel is trying to make gideon another cog in the cog-powered con machine and swindling him into giving up his family's business in order to expand the shack, showering him with attention and taking advantage of how gideon has never had any friends.

pacifica is outraged. yes he has, she decides.

she barges into mabel's backstage room in the mystery shack just in time to dramatically yell DROP. THAT. PEN!!! before gideon signs a waiver.

gideon is disgruntled, confused, and angry. "you're just upset that mabel is treating me like a real friend, something you never did for me!"

"i didn't know how to do that for you, i never... i'd never done it before!"

gideon squints and softens at pacifica's confession. oh. so she's not actually that mean, she's just repressed and lonely. she's just like me for real!

the two make up and hug, before the sentimental scene is destroyed by a loud "ENOUGH!!!" from mabel. mason dashes into the room to come to her aid, a bit sorry for leaking her plan, and the two use their cool crystal earrings to beat the shit out of pacifica and gideon.

"YOU WANNA HAND OVER YOUR PROPERTY TO ME SO BAD, IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUUUPID!!!" (cool psychic fight)

eventually, gideon manages to snatch the amulet from mabel, asking her what the diddly darn she's doing. mabel sighs.

"come on, gideon! i have braces! those mess with girls' emotions and hormones and stuff!"

"d-... do they really?"

"no, but you wouldn't know, you never had friends!" she towers over him. the whites of her eyes become a ghastly blue, her pupils shifting to a shape akin to a goat's. "come on, gideon! what's it hurt? your dignity? your family? your life's work? we both know you need approval. need to feel normal. like you're not a freak." her words are venom. "i can give you that. there's no reason for you to miss this opportunity. there's no reason for you to miss me."

pacifica is restrained by mason, reaching out for gideon. "don't believe them," she sputters. gideon looks up at mabel.

"you're right. it's just nonsensical. to miss this. miss you..." he takes her hand, as he speaks again.

"not when my aim is just getting better."

he takes his free hand and SOCKS mabel in the face and unclips her earring because i decided theyre clip ons and ripping it out is a little extreme!!! he throws it on the ground and stomps on it, and mabel is FURIOUS. she turns to mason.

"come on, bro bro!" she huffs. "do something!"

mason is still for a second. and then he shakes his head. "mabel, we need to talk."

"NOW!?"

as the twins begin to argue, gideon and pacifica take the opportunity to flee the shack and run back to the car shop. before ms. gleeful makes dinner, gideon asks if he can actually stay at pacifica's tonight.

ms. gleeful is okay with it, but pacifica quickly dismisses the topic. it's the thought that counts, but she didn't want to see her parents at the moment.

"you don't mind if i stay here tonight, though, do you, ms. gleeful?" pacifica asks.

"please, sweetheart, call me aunt agnes. i have a sleeping bag 'round here somewhere!"

she and gideon smiled at each other.

[dopscratch]

i kid you not when i say i looked up these two at 4 am hoping for some crumbs but jere you are writing a whole fanfic ( thank you so much🤩).

I personally haven't read the httyd books only the series and movies. If you don't mind could u give a mini summary as u plan to write after book 8? If not i hope you have a wonderful day/ night!

(If uave tons of other questions but don't want to spam so ill just leave this here)

AUDHJSHDHD thank you so much for sending an ask i literally have none ever HAHA

im glad you enjoy the concept :)

the books are very different fron the movies in a large number of ways! in the books, vikings stat out with dragons, and hiccup's main problem is training his own, which he can't do by the normal strategy of yelling- a) because he's not the best yeller and b) because his little green hunting dragon, toothless, is as disobedient as it gets (and smaller than everyone else's to boot!)

in the books, vikings typically have hunting dragon(s) which are smaller and usually dog-sized, as well as a riding dragon, which is larger and obviously ridable. hiccup's riding dragon is a scraggly feathery dragon called the Windwalker who was rescued from slavery :)

one of the biggest differences as well, is that dragons can speak. most are just as intelligent as humans, some even more so, and they're generally cruel by nature. their culture encourages them to act selfishly and it's worked out pretty well for them, hence why most vikings train theirs by fear or exerting power. hiccup, who is nerdy enough to have sat out where the wild dragons are and literally learned their language has been attempting to train HIS by speaking to them, which has some mixed results. windwalker is actually quite mellow and loyal, since hiccup's probably the first person to show him kindness. toothless is just a little brat with a stammer, but he does have softness in his heart deep deep down.

characterization-wise, everyone's a lot different as well.

hiccup, as stated before is a nerd who'll rattle off dragon facts in dangerous situations while fishlegs is more of the sarcastic romantic, basically think of it like the movies swapped their personalities. he also has bright red Heroic Hair that stands straight up and they robbed that from him in the movies and i will never forgive them. hes also an excellent swordfighter and its just about the only traditionally viking thing he's good at :). also, his mother is never kidnapped by dragons- but she IS gone often, out questing. her name is valhallarama and she is an absolute beast of a woman they definitley nerfed her when they turned her to valka

fishlegs is a skinny little loser (affectionate) who's allergic to dragons, has a plethora of other medical conditions too, and is acrually an orphan and was raised by a long-eared caretaker dragon. he's also hiccup's best and only friend at the start of the series. he's arguably worse at being a viking as hiccup is and they both bond over how they wish society would allow them to not be brainless fighters. his dragon is a lazy common-or-garden-or-basic-brown named horrorcow, she's both a pacifist and a vegetarian. when he was catching his dragon, he actually wanted to grab a nadder, which is long and serpentine because nadder is a pun on adder and i have no idea why the movies didn't see that

snotlout is hiccup's cousin and hates him more than anything in the world, and not in a ha-ha funny way either. he legitamately wishes hiccup were dead or never born because he hates to see this "runt" next in line for chief instead of him. he is constantly literally trying to make hiccup's life miserable or literally murder him and once again this is not played for laughs. his dragon's a mean monstrous nightmare- a hunting dragon only the chief and descendanrs of should have- named fireworm, and she is very full of herself. hookfang is actually one of stoick's monstrous nightmares!

another main character is camicazi, who appears in book 3 onward and she was so powerful they had to split her into three characters in the movies (she's sorta like if you took the thorston twins and astrid and mashed them all together, then added another sprinkle of chaos). she's a short little kid from another tribe of all-female warriors called the bog-burgalars and an excellent escape artist. she has a mood dragon- a serpentine, color-changing dragon named stormfly who can actually speak the human language too. she's not very helpful though since shes a pathological liar.

the main villain is named alvin the treacherous and he's a ridicuoulsly resiliant guy who reaaaally wants hiccup dead for a multitide of reasons we don't need to get into now since hw won't really appear in my work haha

i think ive gotten a lot of basics down, but obviously there's a ton more! in regards to knowledge for my crossover though thats essentially some of the main points you need to know. by the 8th book, hiccup has been on a multitide of adventures (and has nearly died or gotten eaten on all of them) but the world hasn't changed irreparably yet :). i plan on writing it in a way that can accomodate people with no knowledge of httyd, since most of it will be from the touden party's pov exploring the world! you'll be getting plenty of detailed descriptions of some of the dragon species as laios's nerdiness will help show

i would absolutely reccomend checking out the books, though! you can usually find them at your local library, and there's also the entire series of audiobooks on youtube! there's a very dedicated group of people on here who love the httyd books including me who would love to help you get into them as well, if that's what you'd like!

i'll round this off with a few of my renditions of some of the characters i've drawn :)

i hope this was helpful, and if you have any more questions, feel free to ask me! i love getting asks but never do lol

[shukakumoodboard]

Hi bestie, popping in to say I love your writing and TGoD and if you're ever in the mood for an excuse to infodump about it and your language hcs I'm listening intently (no pressure tho ly bye)

bands! im feral about your artwork. /points imperiously draw more horny stuff!

pleas im beggign yuo

ok screaming crying frowing up listen i'll yammer about tgod all day because it means im not trying to write it what who said that

some fun facts about tgod:

it was like the second fic idea i ever came up with! i actually thought of it even before fight club but fight club started flowing first so i shelved it, and i'm glad i did because i feel like my fight scenes are so much better now. it was just too intimidating of an idea for me at first since back in 2022 i hadn't really written much fanfic ever

something i'm trying to do with both gaalees in characterisation with this fic is make them both sooooo gd awkward. like true cringefail at all hours. lets be so real do we all really think a former beast vessel turned president and a dude in a spandex suit and legwarmers are anything but so weird?

in particular i really REALLY wanted there to be two things: 1) the dichotomy of violent/inexplicably suave/hron hron baguette drunk lee versus nervous/awkward/insecure sober lee, and 2) sabaku no bloody social skills gaara. i hope that's coming across ok!

ok the language headcanons! i fully and unapologetically plagiarised all my headcanons from luna_lee on ao3 [@sagemoderocklee] who has so many incredible fics jfc but to expound on tgod specific ones

nishitsuchigo as a name breaks down into nishi 西 which according to google means west, tsuchi 土 which means soil, and suffix -go which i yoinked again from luna_lee lol

i originally designed this to be 6 chapters and thought it would be 60k? but my life is a joke and i'll probably crack 80k because i have to make an entire chapter of sexfucking and then an epilogue for Resolution sparkle sparkle

totally unrelated: the next chapter is porn god fucking Bless

don't expect it soon though i have no free time until like december

as a thank you for this question, behold! some fuckign stupit and some foreshadowing to gaara's next social blunder

[starlightshadowsworld]

Im watching Animeirl’s guess the week video where they ask a bunch of anime related questions to figure out who in this group isn’t an anime fan.

And I thought it’d be fun to write my answers to the questions.

What anime/manga power would you like to have?

Finral’s spacial magic from Black Clover. Make myself little portals here and there to travel through. It’d be pretty useful especially considering I may have fucked up my knee.

If you had to daily wear one characters costumes what would it be?

Probably the hardest one because man do I not want to wear a school uniform for the rest of my life.

I’d say Elizabeth Midford from Black Butler. Specifically her outfit from Book of Atlantic I love that dress and shows. And she kicks ass in it so it’s a win.

If you had to pick one character to bring to a deserted island for a year, who would it be?

Kunikida from Bungou stray dogs. That man is prepared for anything and probably has a plan for this in his notebook.

And most of the supplies we’d need I think he’d be able to make in his notebook. I think he’d be good company and end can both trade stories.

Name a favourite anime fight scene.

Mereoleona Vermillion vs Rhaya from Black Clover. One of the hypest fights I’ve ever witnessed. He thinks he can win automatically because he has copy magic and Mereoleona just smirks and says bet.

Name a side character who deserves their own spin off show.

Mitsuya Takahashi from Tokyo Revengers. Specifically set after Toman broke up.

Mitsuya went from captain of a gang division to successful fashion designer. All the while carrying the broken dreams of the friends he lost. Not to mention he’s one of the few founding members of Toman left and I’d absolutely watch a show about him.

What is your favourite character nickname?

The moniker given to Bsd Beast’s Atsushi Nakajima, The White Reaper.

Do you have any anime complaints?

I’m only saying one and keeping it brief. I hate when I’m watching a show and there’s incredible and compelling female characters. And they lose that strength to chase after the main character.

So capable and strong but oh they’ve joined the good guys or became the love interest so now they can’t do shit. I’m aware it’s not just an anime thing but it definitely happens.

Looking at you, various Yugioh spin offs.

If you had to fight an anime character and go all out, who are you fighting?

Fyodor Dostoyevsky from Bungou Stray Dogs. I’d probably lose because he’d have some plan but until that kicks in, ima kick his ass. I don’t need to survive this or kill him I just wanna ruin his day.

Sub vs Dub?

I usually watch stuff in sub because of how much dubs can leave out, especially if I’m watching something where the details are important.

But I’m not really bothered, I’ve watched shows in dub and others in sub. I’ll just pick whichever I feel like. If I’ve seen a clip of it I’ll usually just pick if that clips in sub or dub.

And depending on how…obsessed I am I might watch it in both.

Do you have a favourite anime weapon?

Admittedly I don’t know of many weapons in anime and while it does piss me off, it’s objectively cool.

And that’s the divine blade ‘in the presence of the rain’ aka Amenogozen from Bungou stray dogs. It’s a literal space time sword and I have to respect that.

[kholnt]

I just wanted to say how much I looooooovvveeee your Lost Link fic! I love the idea of what would happen if Wild remembered his past. I wanted to know how you think his knight training went? I definitely think that it was a terrible experience that gave him a whole wagon full of horrible coping mechanisms and bad habits(and from where the fic is going, I'm guessing you think similarly), but I wanted to know how you thought his training went. Anyway, just wanted to say how much I appreciate and love your work, Thank You!

WAAAH THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!!! (but give all of the writing credit to @/eponatheestallion <33 cannot emphasize that enough) BUT! you basically got it in one! his knight training was NOT kind to him in the slightest. i mean, even with the canon material we HAVE it still doesn't particularly spell a good time. (staring at mipha, zelda and purah's diaries respectively. and creating a champion. and possibly aoc but thats a different timeline + i barely know anything abt it so its there In Spirit) i will warn you that this ones gonna be long bc botw diaries TEND TO BE YAP SESSIONS! AND im a yapper so i'll just give you the tldr:

lost's knight training was abhorrent for his mental health and plays into a LOT of his mannerisms and why he is the way he is

ANYWAY! i'll just talk abt things that have been established either in the au or in botw canon :) any blanks you can fill on your own

as for canon things heres some things that stood out to me (formatted to be paragraphs for my sanity):

"A youth named Link was brought to me a hundred years ago, covered in wounds and on death's doorstep. Link… So young, yet so courageous. He was the youngest knight to have ever been appointed to the Imperial Guard at Hyrule Castle. He was also a gifted swordsman who was selected as captain of Princess Zelda's personal guard. I thought his skills would be enough to defeat Ganon in glorious fashion…

It was the best we could do…" -Purah's Diary

~~~~~

"When I finally got around to asking why he's so quiet all the time, I could tell it was difficult for him to say. But he did. With so much at stake, and so many eyes upon him, he feels it necessary to stay strong and to silently bear any burden.

A feeling I know all too well… For him, it has caused him to stop outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings. I always believed him to be simply a gifted person who had never faced a day of hardship. How wrong I was… Everyone has struggles that go unseen by the world… I was so absorbed with my own problems, I failed to see his." -Zelda's Diary ~~~~~

"At the request of Hyrule's king, a group of outsiders came to greet us at the domain. One of them was a Hylian child of only about four years of age. His name was Link. He made quite a first impression. He was curious and full of energy, with a ready smile. Are all Hylian children that way?

One thing that surely sets him apart is his swordsmanship, which I hear is exceptional. He has even bested adults. He must be somewhat reckless, however, as he was covered in bruises. Wishing to be helpful, I healed his wounds for him." ~~~~~

"Link came to visit the domain. It feels like forever since he was here last. He no longer resembles the child I first met. He is now an accomplished knight and keeper of the sword that seals the darkness. I am so proud. However… He hardly speaks anymore, and smiles even more rarely. He is still the kind soul I knew, but something has changed.

I asked him if something had happened, if something was wrong. He merely shook his head. Perhaps it is his newly acquired height, but I feel he is ever looking past me, into the distance beyond…" -Mipha's Diary

~~~~~ "The details of how Link obtained the sword a hundred years ago have been lost to the mists of time, but since he was in possession of it for a number of years prior to becoming a Champion, he was likely around twelve or thirteen years old when it happened."

~~~~~

"After the Champions for the Divine Beasts were chosen, there was an incident at Hyrule Castle. A Guardian went berserk during a test run. Link deftly defeated it, earning himself a great deal of recognition. Impressed, King Rhoam made him Princess Zelda's appointed knight. With no regard for his own personal safety, he loyally fulfilled his duty to guard Princess Zelda with his life." -Creating a Champion

(there will be another thing later but its separated for a Reason.) ANYWAY! these are like. BIG things in canonical material that I feel like are important, especially if they're highlighted. i'm not really going to elaborate much since its kind of spelled out already but i'll say a few things nonetheless (also for consistencies sake i'm going to say lost but do know this ALSO applies to wild) he was the youngest knight appointed in history. like even that alone is FUCKED??? i don't remember if it was something in canon, fanon or something kay n i made up (but it doesnt rlly matter since its canon to the lost hero au ANYWAY!) but he became a knight at TWELVE soon after pulling the sword. then proceeded to become a royal guard at 17. this is a kid surrounded by adults in a generally Unsafe Environment, that alone is enough for some level of fucked. ill explain the "hes been training since he was four" later since i have Thoughts about that, but on a unrelated note do notice that mipha makes the assumption that lost is reckless and not through actually seeing him being clumsy. hyrulean guard when i get you now, to me the vow of silence was something that stemmed from before the calamity and started up in his training. because thats a twelve year old being forced to be a hero when he never got the choice to. OBVIOUSLY hes going to shut down. again, this will be expanded upon later also. lost is canonically self sacrificial. VERY self sacrificial. no further comments, just saying OKAY. NOW ITS LATER BC ITS TIME TO YAP ABT THE "inspired by canon but like. its canon plus." canon is bent in specific ways bc the way link is characterized (in cac specifically) makes him very uh,,,, inhuman i suppose. i love looking at scenarios where decisions have consequences, and it's that specific reason why i enjoy "what if" aus so much.

yes, lost was still trained when he was four. no it was not formally. to me, lost had an interest in swordsmanship because his dads a knight! hes going to be exposed to at least a little bit at an early age. he was insistent on wanting to learn, so with the power of sticks, pot lids, and a lot of positive reinforcement, he learned how to do the movements of swordfighting. he'd never been given a proper sword until the guard brought him to zora's domain. lost's dad never wanted to force the position of hero onto him, so he never gave him a sword. everyone knows that he's the hero except him, and lost's dad would rather keep it that way until he's old enough to climb mount lanayru (it happens much earlier than that) now abt the fucking "According to tales told by the long-lived Zora, Link visited Zora's Domain when he was younger and formed a bond with them, defeating a Lynel and teaching various skills to Zora children. This story sheds light on both his physical abilities and his strength of character." from creating a champion just like. isn't canon in this. the only other recorded time lost fought a lynel in zoras domain was when he was already zelda's guard and he was not younger. so by proxy it must've been when he was four WHICH ISN'T HAPPENING SORRY GUYS!!!! i'm not having a four year old fight a lynel hero or not!!!! it's referenced in lost hero canon (the soldiers accompanied made jokes and tried to egg lost on but it got shut down real quick since a. his dad was there and b. literally anyone who have thinking caps would go "yeah um... no actually!") and now its fanon time :))) when lost was in the army, he was usually trained separately from the other knights, mostly because of skill difference. as a CHILD he was able to clear soldiers, he needed different training period. as for the actual formal training, it was extremely strict. terrible conditions stemmed from an awful reward "system" (that usually led to lost being extremely fatigued and starting an endless loop of punishment. there is a reason why lost can push through awful conditions: hes used to it) all blanketed with the justification of "he's the hero of hyrule." they trained him to be a weapon, not a person. he doesn't have a sense of self nor an identity outside of "hero" "champion" or "weapon." things like "brother" got stripped from him when he joined the academy. they didn't bother with setting up a future for him. he eventually figures his shit out but thats YEARS down the line, and even then he's still suffering from this,,,, self objectification? idk how else to describe it when he wasn't getting grilled for "not swinging his sword hard enough" or having his foot a centimeter off even though he hasnt had the privilege of Basic Necessities To Survive in (insert timeframe) he was usually doing something in the coliseum. as it turns out, having the hero show off in front of an audience by fighting a lynel (or multiple) is a GREAT money maker! shame he wasnt usually told beforehand!

being forced into heroism is a big reason as to why hes the silent knight. he never wanted this. being separated from his family (whom of which i have Many thoughts about. same for his childhood honestly) and surrounded by strangers who have no care for who he is but rather what he stands for was absolutely awful, and only made worse by his age. being silent and just dealing with it is how he coped, and its eventually going to boil over (just give it a few years) his knight training was one of THE worst things to happen to him, right under failing to save his kingdom and inadvertently being the cause of hyrule's demise. it's the reason why he acts the way he does. he wasn't allowed to forget, so instead it influences almost everything he does, says and thinks. SO YEAH IT WASNT A GOOD TIME

[underscar]

SHAMELESS

Pairing: Himeno/Male Reader

Summary: Public safety devil hunters are walking hypocrites with morals all over the place like a messy puzzle. That's what they live up to as clichés and stereotypes. In spite of this, Himeno has only come across a few who stand out from this stereotype. You are one. You were the ideal man: married, sickly faithful, and ambition. And Himeno wanted a piece of that, and she typically gets what she wants. It was difficult to keep things on the down low when Himeno openly flirted at work, despite your efforts. You were ashamed of your actions at first, but as time went on, you began to realize and accept how crucial it was to have this affair while you still had the chance.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: I was really nervous writing this as i’m im not overall confident in my portrayal of a male reader so it shows a bit in the writing, not my best, but never my worst.

WORD COUNT // 2561 words

WARNINGS: Infidelity/Unfaithfulness

CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche

Devil hunters lack morals.

They are individuals who, as their name implies, fight against Devils whenever a threat associated with them arises in the world. In this profession, contracts are made with thus Devils. Morals and even self-respect are exchanged for diabolical leverage for the chance to thwart the next beast. The last straw, in the eyes of the public, is these devil hunters buddy up with bloodstained fiends. Unlike police officers, firefighters, or soldiers—public safety devil hunters are not viewed as noble or selfless; despite public safety in the title. Ironic, isn’t it?

The foremost duty of devil hunters, private or public, is to vanquish and kill the never-ending spawn of Devils and fiends. Not explicitly to protect the general public.

Therefore they’re seen as kooks and replaceable beings. Otherwise no good for society other than to fall for the Devil's playtime. Just there to capitalise on the job’s benefits or the ultra-violence of it all. No matter how many of these workers die or many are employed, nothing ever changes in the eyes of the masses.

They have no sympathy for these devil hunters when there’s continually another Devil or another killing spree from some wild fiend, and ultimately,  another sum of dead folk.

Due to these viewpoints, devil hunters are quite shameless and venomous in their thoughts and actions. Hemeno was no exception to this; however, she felt that you were one of the exceptions.

You were around three years older than her and close to thirty. Younger in devil-hunting expirence though.

You two were more so acquaintances than buddies to anything else. Himeno has always seen you around, saying brief hellos and asking how the weather is doing over the past few years. Mindless chatter that mostly went in and out. You had often hung around your partner, Nikola, an older Russian man, on smoke breaks. She recalls that anytime the divisions went out drinking, he would force you to tag along.

Himeno would make flirtatious advances, frequently while drunk, but your response were unwavering:

You’d chuckle. “I’m married. Thank you.”

And she would smirk at that. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

Again, the job you all possessed was to kill devils; not protect the public.

However, you didn’t view it as cynically. You rejected the stigma that surrounded devil hunters and found your profession to be just as respectable as law enforcement or the army; the army being a part of your family's legacy for generations and you, yourself, formerly being enlisted, if Himeno’s memory was doing her any good.

You were not a rookie with lofty aspirations and notions that vanished within days on the job. No, you were righteous. Almost like someone she knew. You wanted to protect people and end the Devil’s reign.

And Himeno was charmed by that.

Nowadays, Himeno frequently saw you lingering near the coffee maker when you were taking brief breaks; typically typing away on your phone. After the death of your long-time partner, you lingered at the workplace longer than you did before and took fewer smoking breaks. Since Nikola isn't there to be with you, she assumed it was too nostalgic for you. She felt compelled to approach you since you were now always alone.

Today you were currently lounging once again close to the pot and occasionally sipping from your thermos that steamed even from a distance. And today was the day that she was going to approach you.

“Hey! Any extra Joe in that pot?” she asked.

Lowering your phone, you looked up and noticed Himeno approaching you, alone. She was typically beside that Hayakawa guy so you kind of just expected him to be at her side.

You removed your right ear bud since you didn't fully understand all she said; however, her fixation on the coffee maker allowed you to put two and two together.

Your shoulders slouched. “Oh. My bad, Himeno. I only made two servings for my cup.”

Himeno leaned her upper body onto the counter. She childishly pouted. "Aww, man,” she uttered.

She laid her chin into her folded arms that almost acted like a pillow. Her lip protruded and briefly attracted your attention before you spoke up, simultaneously lifting yourself up from against the counter.

You sighed before pocketing your phone and earbuds. “I’ll cook you up a pot real quick,” you offered; you moved yourself to begin cooking up the coffee.

Himeno winked up at you, a lazy, smug smirk on her face. “Thank you~” she sung.

She was motionless as she leaned her weight across the countertop, in front of the coffee maker, may you add, and also in your way. So while cooking up the coffee, you had to get a bit too up close and personal to her; however, she didn't appear to notice or have a problem with it. She just giggled like a school girl. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought she was intoxicated.

Her hip every now and then would bump yours whenever you reached over her, one of those subtle but imposing touches that made you jolt.

Your concentration was strained as you cooked the coffee, trying to distract yourself from Himeno. You refused to look at her curving form underneath you, but you could still hear her nonetheless. She hummed some song, sounding familiar, a nursery rhyme you heard as a kid perhaps, when you offhandly listened to her. Though you were too ambivalent to ask her or to even make a conversation.

You shook the thoughts away as you focused on pouring the beans into the filter. You then poured all of the water into the corner of the machine and reached to close the lid. In the next moment, after securing the lid closed, you span out to press the start button. However, the sound of Himeno's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, ______. What was your wife’s name again?”

All of the Himeno-induced disorientation disappears when your wife is brought up, slapping you back to reality. Himeno's form was still beside and below you, and you shifted your head to look at her, for the first time in this encounter. Instead of returning your gaze, she fixed her attention on the counter as her elbow rested on it and her cheek rested in her hand.

After a brief moment of almost startled silence, you realized you hadn't spoken a thing, which just made you continue to look. She didn't appear uptight or uneasy at all during the awkward pause that followed her awkward inquiry. Simply put, you questioned why she would even bring up your wife.

You cleared your throat. “…It’s Emiko. I don’t…think I ever mentioned it before anyway.” You went over for your cup from beside you and took a sip to distract yourself. For some strange reason, the coffee burned your throat almost as much as the words you said did

Himeno didn’t respond; she just nodded.

That's the first and only time she ever outwardly mentioned your wife.

“Hehe, _____. You got a smoke?” Himeno asked.

It was a stupid question. You had a cigarette in your mouth and were outdoors in the smoking area at the back. You sure would be out of place if you didn’t.

Himeno kept popping up in your life after the awkward incident at the coffee maker a month earlier. Because of Himeno’s first appearance, you had began moving your breaks from the coffee machine back to the outside smoking area. It was your safe haven for two days before Himeno found you there and has been there ever since.

Though now, Himeno begun joining you for smoke breaks, replacing Nikola, and timing her breaks with yours. At first, it was nice. It was nice to get back into the habit of smoking, well, at least it felt nice.

It made everything feel like it went away for a moment as smoke punctured your lungs in a embrace.

And each time she showed, if it wasn't already difficult to maintain professionalism due to the way Himeno is naturally, you began to feel as though she was seducing you. Considering how naturally flirtatious she is, you really couldn't tell if this was done on design or by accident. Perhaps you were the issue because of your deteriorating level of loyalty to Emiko, your wife. Yes, your wife. You kept reminding yourself of Emiko.

Though you hate to admit it, the thought of her nowadays brought you dread.

“None to share,” you said. “Sorry.”

Himeno leaned against the wall beside you. “How about I win it from you, huh? In a good ole game of p.o.k.e.r!”

After she made you download poker to your phone, you two had made it your thing. She became irritated when you idly browsed on your phone and didn't talk to her, therefore the game was meant to get your attention on her. You shared an interest in smoking and playing poker. You would both often place bets to keep things exciting. Small bills were the initial phase, followed by promises, then other things.

Nikola was never as nagging. Though he wasn’t as attractive as your new smoking partner was either.

You sighed. “Sure.”

Himeno beamed and whipped out her phone. You unconsciously followed behind her, removing the dwarfing cigarette from between your lips.

She giggled as she set up the match on her phone.“Arencha gonna ask what you’ll get if you win?”

As you had drank with Himeno before, you heard this a lot and had a idea of what she would offer. While a portion of you was irritated, another aspect of you—one that was as powerful as your dominant hand—was interested.

Himeno grinned as she grabbed your arm, and dragged you down to her height in response to your silence, her phone down at her hip in the other. She whispered, and you could feel her smiling on your neck.

“If you win, you’ll get a kiss~”

This you responded quickly to. “…I’d rather just win.”

Himeno saw that despite your words, you did not push her away. “I’d rather just kiss you.”

You had actively avoided Himeno since and haven't seen her for a few days now.

During breaks, you stayed away from the coffee maker in the office and instead headed outside for the nearby cafe. Even though your wife disliked it when you smoked in the car, you would just flee to it when you wanted a puff of smoke. You didn't care what she thought at the time; rather, you just wanted Himeno off your mind because she had crossed the line of separation once again.

These days, you didn't generally wasn't sent out on devil-hunter assignments; waiting for your new partner's assignment. Given that Nikola had been your partner for such a long time, you weren't sure if the length of time you had been waiting was customary.

“God, Nikola,” you whispered to no one but yourself.

With the exception of you and a few vacant desks, the office was empty. Everyone else was sent off to catch some wild fiend, or something. So you were left here to file some paperwork for Makima; though you got distracted with everything conquering your mind at the moment.

Although each of you was given a cubicle, nobody really used them. More so since people were changed out so frequently and it was too much trouble to add and remove names every day or so. If someone passed away, nobody even bothered to clean them out unless the family wanted to do so themselves.

It was beneficial for you that Nikola had left his cubicle uncleaned and untouched, and had no family, as you found comfort within the four thin walls. Everything was precisely as he had left it, from the battle metals on the walls to the lighter in the corner. This cubicle had been him home away from home. Wherever that was.

“You missing Nikola?”

Himeno was standing behind your old partner's desk as you turned around. She had a skirt on; smaller and tighter than appropriate. She was playing a trick on you and luring you once more. The skirt was both figuratively and literally, inappropriate. She was supposed to be out tracking down a devil with Hayakawa and the rest of the division, but judging by the skirt, there was little chance of that. In that type of pencil skirt, you couldn't defeat no Devil.

You turned back to Nikola’s metal on the wall. “What do you want, Himeno?” you grumbled.

“I want you to talk to me.”

You huffed; laughing without the humour. “Yeah. As if that’s all you want from me. Bullshit.”

Himeno was silent for a moment, and you simply waited for her to depart before you took any action rashly. Himeno, though, was unwilling to give in. She walked up to the desk, sat down on it, and crossed her legs. You maintained your gaze on the wall of metals but in the corner of your eyes, you could see her thinking. She looked up at the ceiling in thought as the words escaped her lips.

“I don’t deny…that I want more, _____.” Her lip quirked a bit at the clicheness of it all, but she restrained it.

She adds. “But I’m a little shy, you know?”

She was bullshitting you and you knew this. Himeno was the least reserved of the group, so you knew you should have let her know you didn't buy her bullshit. You knew she wasn’t being genuine but, nonetheless, when you were with Himeno, you forgot about all the stress in your life.

The death of your partner,

the arguments with family,

and your pregnant wife at home.

When Himeno was nearby and willing to satisfy your desire, none of it mattered. Your life was made more exciting by her. Work ceased to be challenging and started to serve as an outlet for you. Even if it was just for a little moment, life wasn't all that difficult. She took to the nicotine you allow inside. And your poor wife, whom you love so dearly, was hardly visible through the blissful stupor.

“…Bullshit.”

And you decided you had wanted her too. And you were no longer a little shy in this affair.

You glanced at her figure.

You didn't understand why you two continued to play this game when everyone in the division was aware of your illicit relationships. You knew they knew that Himeno had got you stuck in her trap. That this relationship got beyond professionalism months ago. None, however, gave a damn enough to inform your wife; due to the fact that devil hunters are vile individuals. Nevertheless, the world did not end as a result. The world won't end if you cheat on your wife if the option is there.

You already dropped the package. The least you could do now is preserve this blunt.

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© UNDERSCAR 2023 - All rights are reserved to underscar. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarize, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.

[horrorscoupes]

im supposed to be writing a term paper rn but instead im gonna explain why regulus’ listener does not need a dedicated name because ive been pondering it for like. a year

cw: the usual dehumanizing/demeaning/manipulative/etc regulus shit 👍

the biggest and most overarching theme of regulus’ storyline is and always has been a comparison of love and obsession/possessiveness, especially now that we’ve gotten some extra info on the guy they were seeing before regulus came back from the slammer. obviously there is something so incredibly wrong with him- both because he’s Like That but also because in a patreon stream erik said smth to the effect of “oh just wait until you see how he ended up like that” which to me means that something either deeply traumatizing or catastrophic led to regulus being the mangy beast he is today. <- this is supported (in my opinion) by how rampantly insecure he is shown throughout all of his videos, most noticeably in the beginning when he’s vulnerable about how he’s been lonely too (“I don’t want you to be nervous when you’re with me. I want you to feel safe. At home. Because that’s how you make me feel. You make me feel so warm inside. It’s been a very long time since I felt that way.” [Yandere Invisible Man Makes You His Forever (11:10)]). that quote among many others lends to the theory and idea that something happened to him/one of his charges/etc that irreparably affected his ability to maintain healthy boundaries. all of that is obvious tho.

i think that regulus choosing his listener as his charge (as opposed to being assigned to them as ive seen some people on here say)(“I believe they were not his official charge, but he has now kind of taken them on as an unofficial one… …They were not his-- they were never an official charge of his, but, y’know they are… He would now consider them a charge. I don’t know that they would agree.” Working on the Train Model and Hanging Out (2:34:00)) was very deliberate, since it’s very clear that for as long as he was in their house the first time, no one was overwhelmingly worried about their absence from the outside world. that isn’t to say that no one was worried at all, we still don't know how he got caught, but it’s obvious that his preying on them had to do with their predisposed social isolation. this is clear to me because he watched them for a great deal of time before he ever intervened. 

before i get to the main point i also want to chime in on the ever present discourse of how he managed not to starve to death. in my opinion, there are two equally likely scenarios for his first stint with them, with one being far more likely for the second stint. his listener had close to no mental strength before him, and certainly did have much during his stay with them, so there’s no particular evidence that could prove he Never Ever put them to sleep (or just left them magically paralyzed) and left to filter feed out in the real world for a bit. i don’t know how likely that is after he got out of prison, but i don’t think it’s entirely out of the question. the second, probably more likely, possibility is that after days/weeks/months of nonstop love-bombing, physical affection, and manipulating regulus’ listener Did enjoy being with him. not in a conscious or happy sort of way, but by way of their body and brain reacting positively to his presence. when you don’t have anyone else, even an abuser can be a point of relief.

FINALLY onto the topic that i started word-vomiting over in the first place. i think that the most articulate and correct way to refer to them is as “regulus’ listener” for one very specific reason. i think that they are purposefully nameless. he doesnt call them by petnames or by their actual name because they don’t need it. they are not a person to him, they are a possession. he wrote over their memories of their boyfriend, wiping away the way him calling them “sweetie” made them feel, because he will never call them that in any kind way. 

his most recent video gave A LOT of context to their living arrangement and the way that he controls them on a day-to-day basis (as all of my friends have suffered through hearing about lol). and i think that the context we learned is really important when set against all of the other manipulatorcore characters we get to see on there. it seems very vital that his listener has no name and no identity, but he still requests their permission to “help” them (“I can rework these memories. I can make them feel better than you could ever imagine. Mine. I can help. I can fix this. Can I help? Will you let me help? Please let me help.” Possessive Yandere Demon Rewrites Your Memories (4:03)). in doing this he offers them autonomy that he has no obligation to give, but he still won’t give them a name. because, as he calls them 52 times in that one video, the only thing they will ever be to him is “Mine.” 

[furbygoblinxiv]

So I made a quick oneshot (and accompanying sketch) to get back into the swing of Writing Things, which I've called The Quest For Monster Energy. Featuring three peak lords (tired doctor Mu Qingfang, eccentric brew master Zhang Qingyan, and definitely-not-suspicious logistician Shang Qinghua) coming together to make an energy drink concoction akin to Monster Energy in order to stay awake and complete their tasks.

(I definitely lifted the brewing peak lord name and the beast keeping peak name from this @/tossawary post: https://tossawary.tumblr.com/post/649140398750580736/im-sorry-this-feels-real-weird-but-i-love because Convenience and they've said it's fine before)

Nothing with shipping, nothing explicit or mature, just 4k words of "what if a Victorian child got a hold of monster energy" vibes:

Mu Qingfang had a quest, and once a month, there was a meeting to try to fulfill it.

Shang Qinghua, punctual as ever, was the first to arrive at Mu Qingfang's leisure house right at dusk. With as much time as he spent in the clinic or his personal lab, it was the least used – and thus least cluttered – of the small group's houses. The disciples who cleaned it twice a day were there more than he was, some weeks.

"Shang-shixiong, it is a pleasure as always," Mu Qingfang greeted as the other man sat down and began to unload various small pouches onto the table, next to where Mu Qingfang had already set an assortment of jars. One package had blood splatter on it, which Mu Qingfang ignored. "Has that pain reliever this one sent over worked well for you?"

Shang Qinghua flexed his wrist as he set the last package down, showing off his mobility. "Worked like a charm! No more stiffness or carpal tunnel here!" He grinned, which in the dim lighting, gave an almost menacing appearance when paired with his eye bags and mustache. "How late do you wanna bet Zhang-shimei gets here?"

Zhang Qingyan, lord of the Zui Xian peak of brewing and alchemists, had an unfortunate tendency to lose track of time. She wasn't often intentionally late (ignoring occasions where she was being petty, at least), Mu Qingfang just knew first hand that her laboratory had many small timers yet no overall time keeper. She once claimed that it was just a distraction, whatever that meant.

"I suppose it depends on if she had another chemical explosion," Mu Qingfang responded. "And if she decides to stick around afterwards and clean it, or if she just delegated it onto-"

"HELLOOOO!" Came a cry as the door slammed open, cutting the doctor off.

Zhang Qingyan, one for less propriety than even Shang Qinghua at times, made her grand appearance as if the entire front half of her body was not covered in soot and her hair was not burnt at the ends. Mu Qingfang was only a little shocked she wasn't fully covered, and also wasn't showing up even later. He’d almost call this early for her.

"Sorry I'm a bit late, there was an explosion in the lab again and I had to assign disciples to sort out the mess before I could arrive," she explained as she dropped into her spot at the table and began removing bottles from her bag. "It was necessary to work until the last moment to ensure I was fully prepared for this meeting." With a grin, she removed the last, and largest bottle from her bag. It had a glowing orange liquid in it.

"How are your disciples?" Mu Qingfang inquired politely, though he couldn't tear his eyes away from the strange glow of the bottles that she was sorting on the table.

"The same as always, I suppose! The younger ones have broken a record this year on glass vial breaks, and I caught one of my inner disciples in the middle of a challenge to lick acid yesterday, so they're coming along nicely." She had an eccentric yet caring attitude towards her disciples. If asked, Mu Qingfang knew she'd say she's proud of their tenacity and willingness to test new things. It's part of why she tended to try out new experimental potions on herself as opposed to them the way her predecessor had.

Mu Qingfang wished his lack of student experiments were for the same reason, but his was less out of compassion and more because he couldn’t seem to keep the same group of inner disciples for a long enough period of time to even try to experiment on them. It would be a valuable learning experience for them! They loved being the experimenter, but an important part of being a medic was fully understanding the effects of things! Unfortunately, the moment he thought to ask who would like to test out experimental medicines or new qi blocking techniques, half of them would leave the mountains for personal study or to become an assistant to a specialized peak elder instead. His head disciple refused to even potentially be taken out of commission after lasting this long, and the outer disciples had learned to avoid him when he spent too long on his research.

It was fine, he was okay with going through official channels for human experiments, the slower ones that disciples could opt into for experience. And when that wasn’t an option, well, then he turned to personal experimentation.

"Are they still making a game of sneaking into the alcohol storage cellar?" Shang Qinghua asked, as if he had never done that as a disciple with only Mu Qingfang as an accidental witness. He would have gotten away unseen had Mu Qingfang not been sent there on a dare by his shixiongs for the same purpose.

"With those talismans and arrays that Shang-shixiong helped me with, the new challenge is just finding the cellar in the first place." With a dramatic eye roll, she finally finished sorting the bottles the way she liked. "And you'd be surprised how much that's deterred them."

Shang Qinghua shook his head. "Kids these days know nothing of sleuthing and sneaking," he declared, Zhang Qingyan nodding along.

Mu Qingfang just wished that disciples would stop getting black out drunk and falling off their swords before they even had fully developed brains.

"Enough about the children though!" Zhang Qingyan said. "They're cleaning up the results of my latest and greatest creation! This should act as the perfect base for our concoction," she said, dramatically gesturing to the literal glowing bottle in front of her. "These other bottles are other chemicals and potions that may complement the mixture well. What have you all brought to the table?"

Mu Qingfang gestured to the jars of herbs and small monster parts in front of him. "Since last month, my experiments have shown that Leeching Three Eyed Serpent eyeballs have positive effects on energy and awareness. As well as that, some variants of the herbs I have been cultivating in my gardens have shown enhanced energy signatures when paired with the selectively bred tea leaves this one has been growing."

The other two nodded, both unphased by the strange contents of the jars for entirely separate reasons, so he continued. "This one, however, is still unsure as to whether the presence of the serpent eyes will have an averse or negating effect on the tea like the Sleepless Rhino Explosive Boar horns did last month."

All three of them shuddered at just the thought of that meeting.

Shang Qinghua was up next, and he unloaded an assortment of small items from his pouches as he explained them. "After some talks with a merchant contact, he willingly parted with a stack of talismans designed to keep the victim awake long enough to be tortured." He paused, waiting for any outcry at the torture mention, before he went on and clarified, "I definitely didn't blackmail him for them."

Mu Qingfang, well aware of Shang Qinghua's questionable habits and tendencies by now, simply nodded and stroked his mustache in thought. His shixiong may be shady in his business dealings, but he brought great financial benefits to the sect, and didn't seem to have it in him to betray them. He was a good man, Mu Qingfang wasn't worried. Zhang Qingyan, meanwhile, didn't even seem to pick up on there being anything wrong with what the other man said, instead inspecting the markings on a talisman she took from him.

Moving onto the next pouch, the logistician pulled out a strange trinket, a small blue object with sharp edges. "This, from what I understand from my, uh, readings, is an Everwaking Star Fragment. If this is the object from legend, then it's said that it can dissolve in any liquid, and whoever drinks it is cursed to never sleep again. The last bearer of it, however, was asleep when I found it, next to them and not on their clothing of course, because I would never pickpocket someone who fell asleep poisoned or drunk at a bar. I’m not sure if they had used any of it before then."

Zhang Qingyan's eyes lit up at that, and she snatched it from his hands before he could even protest. "So if the entire thing dissolves in liquid, then what about one small portion of it? Could taking off just the corner of one spike cause eternal wakefulness for just a few days?!" She brought the object up to her eye level as she excitedly murmured to herself about the possibilities.

Of course she was too distracted to pick up on the implication of their shixiong pick-pocketing a drunk person, but again, he was a good guy, and that was none of Mu Qingfang's business.

Shang Qinghua wrapped up his presentation with his usual offerings of vitality enhancing incense sticks (which Mu Qingfang suspected he got from succubi) and what Shang Qinghua called "ground up coffee beans" that he got from trade in the south, but insisted were lackluster alone.

"Should we use Mu-shidi's strongly brewed tea as the base, or Zhang-shimei's great creation?"

Zhang Qingyan thought for a second, staring at the orange glowing bottle in front of her. "The tea. This stuff is pretty strong on its own, and will need to be diluted so that it doesn't automatically stop our hearts or melt our golden cores!"

Mu Qingfang poured the specially brewed tea into a container in the center of the table, and their experiments began.

Once a month, the peak lords from three of the most overworked peaks got together for a late night meeting. Their goal? Create a concoction that gives the drinker both wakefulness and energy to keep going and complete their mountain long list of duties and obligations.

Shang Qinghua called it a quest for the "Monster Energy Drink", which seemed like a fitting name in Mu Qingfang's opinion.

It had started a few years ago, with the doctor approaching the alchemist for something to enhance the tea he already took to keep himself awake for days on end. Things had snowballed when he had accidentally served it to the logistician after helping repair a broken leg. From there, an alliance was born.

Mu Qingfang was a doctor. He knew that it was important to maintain one's body, and that rest and rejuvenation were vital to keeping one's mind sharp. He said as such to Liu Qingge every time the man crashed into the clinic. But Mu Qingfang was also the head doctor of a peak of learning medics, peak lord on a mountain of reckless disciples (and peak lords), in a region of land where people were constantly getting infected or sick.

As much as he knew rest was important, he knew that sometimes, working and saving lives was even more important.

And thus: monstrous energy drink.

Adding the glowing orange liquid into the tea, even just a few drops of it, made the tea go from a dull brown to a glowing dark green. As Zhang Qingyan used her spare potions to work out the right consistency, Mu Qingfang removed some of the monster eyes from a jar and ground it up in his mortar and pestle, and Shang Qinghua attached the energy talisman to the side of the experiment container and dropped a few ground coffee beans in. A moment later, he lit one of the incense sticks and fanned the smoke into the container for a moment before extinguishing it.

After adding the crushed eye to the mixture, it became a brighter shade of green. And when Zhang Qingyan chipped off a corner of Everwaking Star Fragment into the mix, the glow began to pulse.

Having added all they wished to add, and the liquid having not exploded on them yet, they stared at their pulsing creation in awe. Mu Qingfang felt like they had created a forbidden substance.

"That genuinely looks radioactive" Shang Qinghua muttered to himself, like that was a word that made sense. "If a disciple drank this, they'd probably never close their eyes again."

"If a disciple got their hands on this, they would either qi deviate on the spot or enter a coma with their eyes frozen open," Mu Qingfang replied to the only part he actually understood. He couldn’t even begin to fathom how he’d treat that level of…poisoning? in his clinic beyond drastic measures.

"Well, we added all we planned to this beauty and didn't stop to test it along the way, so who knows if it's safe," Zhang Qingyan said as she scooped an empty bottle into the container. Shang Qinghua’s bagged eyes went wide at the sight of the bottle in her hand having the same bright green pulsing glow as the source potion.

"Zhang-shimei, I'm not sure you should-" Mu Qingfang tried to warn, but as always at these meetings, his warnings were not enough to stop the brewmaster from closing her eyes and taking a swig from her glowing bottle.

Shang Qinghua, who usually had pretty controlled (if extreme) facial expressions, seemed to mirror Mu Qingfang's open shock and horror at the move.

A full body shudder racked through Zhang Qingyan, and her eyes flew open with a start. Her vision was unfocused, but then her expression slowly raised to an almost unhinged grin as she stared at the bottle in front of her. Her breathing had noticeably sped up, both audible and from how her shoulders heaved with the motion.

"Boys," she started, not removing her hazy eyes from what she clearly considered her magnum opus. "Prepare to never need to sleep again."

She raised a hand to wipe away at her lip, and already it was shaking so badly that she had trouble aiming for her face.

Mu Qingfang reached for the notepad he kept in his pocket, and recorded down what had been added to the mixture and the immediate side effects. He made sure to note down the violent shaking and lack of focus it had brought his fellow peak lord with three lines under it, and an arrow for good measure.

Shang Qinghua also noticed the quivering. "Oh. Hm. Well, I can't have hands that shake that badly, or I'm gonna have some trouble filing our taxes," he said, laughing as if that were a joke. He pulled some melon seeds out from a bag in his pocket and began to snack and think.

Mu Qingfang was also thinking. There must be an herb or something in this house strong enough to make an impact in this hellish drink they created, one that could stabilize hands and make the sudden onset of energy less overwhelming.

Zhang Qingyan likely was not thinking of solutions, as she was clearly too busy acclimating to the energy rush to think at the moment.

Hand paused halfway to his mouth, Shang Qinghua got an idea. "Mu-shidi, didn't you work with Lin-shimei to make a calming supplement for some raging beasts on Xi Jiao a week or so ago?" He asked, despite having organized the material transfer and thus knowing the answer.

Lin Qingpen, of the agricultural peak Min Nong, was a major help with Mu Qingfang's herb gardens. While her peak covered all kinds of vegetation as opposed to Qian Cao's medicinal focus, her affinity towards plants made it possible for Mu Qingfang to selectively breed for specific attributes of his herbs and plants in the first place.

Reaching into one of the main spacial pouches that he kept on his person, the doctor pulled out the package with Lin Qingpen's note of well wishes still attached. "Shang-shixiong is correct, and this one does in fact have some left over."

Shang Qinghua's eyes lit up at the sight of the pouch, and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he smiled. The gesture, for some reason, reminded Mu Qingfang of the over the top villains of the plays he used to watch as a child.

He has been planning on using this powder for experimenting on calming herbal remedies for troubled patients, but he can always request more from Lin Qingpen tomorrow. Mixing a pinch of it into a cup of water, he handed the cup to a still shaking Zhang Qingyan, who downed it without question and only minimal spilling.

"She's got more guts than I do," Shang Qinghua admitted, as if one's guts has anything to do with this experiment process beyond likely being damaged.

After downing the herbs strong enough to calm a rampaging Fire Tailed Dragon Horse down, the effects were almost as fast as those from the initial potion were. Her hands stopped shaking as badly, and her breathing slowed down. A few moments later, her eyes regained focus.

Eventually, she was in a normal enough state that it wouldn't be malpractice if Mu Qingfang needed to perform surgery while under this drink's effects.

"Oh yeah, it definitely needed something to act as a counterbalance, good call," she said as Mu Qingfang recorded the side effects down. "One of you should probably try it with the Restful Temperament leaves mixed in beforehand so we know if those should be taken separately or not."

There was a brief moment of uncomfortable eye contact between himself and Shang Qinghua. The doctor knew that, as suspicious as his business dealings and as often as his physical injuries, the man across from him at the table was a coward. Light glistened off of his face in a way that Mu Qingfang swore was dripping sweat, but he had no way to confirm since the light of the candles and the glowing energy drink were rather low. It was kind of pathetic to watch, in a way.

Sighing, he took an empty bottle from Zhang Qingyan's side of the table and scooped his own helping of the concoction. Dropping a hearty pinch of Restful Temperament Leaves into the bottle, he mixed it for a moment as he tried to wrap his head around what he was about to do. At least it caused no visible changes to the already strange looking drink…

Stored in a hidden pouch against his breast were a handful of incredibly rare panacea style substances that fully cured the body of any curse or poison that may be contaminating it. It didn't work on injuries, and the peak lord only used them for what he deemed catastrophic level emergencies.

He wondered if drinking a glowing liquid in the name of science and staying awake counted as an emergency.

"Oh come on Mu-shixiong, don't back out now," Zhang Qingyan crowed with an almost predatory smile, sensing his weakness. "We've definitely drank way worse drinks at this same table before, right Shang-shixiong?!" She leaned over and elbowed the logistics peak lord, who looked like one more strong elbow to the side would knock him down for good. The other man nodded with a nervous looking smile, still staring at the glowing creations before him.

Staring at the ominous elixir in front of him, he let out a sigh. He couldn't believe he was sometimes referred to as the most responsible of the peak lords.

He took a drink from the bottle.

The first thing he had to note: it tasted abhorrent. He knew it wouldn't be pleasant, given the mix of random plants and monster parts that had been added, but this was leagues worse than even his worst expectations. Despite having a strong stomach, he fought off the urge to throw up and demand to know what Zhang Qingyan had put into the base potion.

Instead, he forced it down with a grimace and mentally mapped every place in the leisure house that stored medicine to help soothe stomach issues. He could have sworn he felt it bubbling all the way down, despite its lack of bubbles, and felt his veins and bloodstream light up as if electrocuted. The fact that Zhang Qingyan had downed this with a straight face was both terrifying and impressive.

Luckily, his mind stayed as sharp as ever, and his hands had no notable shake to them. He made sure to note down these effects and mix some of the Restful Temperament Leaves into the base container of the substance.

"That seems to be as good of a balance as we are going to get," Mu Qingfang announced to both of the peak lords watching him in anticipation and dread.

Zhang Qingyan let out a cheer and took another swig from her Restful-temperament-free bottle, immediately causing her hands to start shaking again.

Shang Qinghua let out a sigh of relief as he bottled his own share of the energy granting monstrosity they had just created. With a quick sip, he muttered “tastes almost like actual monster energy” while shuddering. "Of course, we'll have to keep in touch about potential side effects," he said louder, staring at his bottle and likely calculating ways to market, mass produce, and sell it off if it didn't cause deadly effects.

Mu Qingfang knew that Zhang Qingyan had some pretty strong hangover cure potions that she had amplified, and that Shang Qinghua had poison curing artifacts from grateful trade partners. If there truly were adverse effects, they should be fine, but it'd be important to note for the next time they made an experiment or if Shang Qinghua decided to sell it.

Zhang Qingyan bottled the rest of the container and divided it up between the three of them. "Well boys, barring any unknown side effects, I think we just stumbled across the perfect energy drink." She declared.

Mu Qingfang knew better though. He knew they would find even better energy and sleep alternatives before the month was over. "Same time next month?"

The other two, stashing away their personal bottles, started to pack their things. "Oh yeah, this was just the prototype," Zhang Qingyan laughed as she stood from the table. "Improvements can always be made, we can't be falling asleep during next month’s Immortal Alliance Conference, after all!"

Shang Qinghua let out what may be a nervous laugh as he agreed, but Mu Qingfang was sure it was just the lack of sleep getting to him.

"If we don't see each other again, I'll see you all at the immortal alliance conference," he promised, with affirmations from the other two as they made their way out into the night.

With pleasant calls of farewell made and his leisure house evacuated, Mu Qingfang stared down at the concoction in front of him.

He was a doctor, he knew how important sleep was, and how vital it was to not drink random glowing potions of haphazard mixes of items. And he knew that, as an immortal, he didn't truly need to sleep. But he did need to focus, and he did have work to do.

He took a second swig from the bottle and stood, clearing everything else off of the table. He had the feeling some emergency would be calling him to the clinic any minute now, despite it being well into the night. It had been too calm for too long, which typically meant trouble on Qian Cao.

Extinguishing the lights, Mu Qingfang headed off into the night. His exit left nothing behind save the energy drink, alone and glowing on his table, a soft pulsing light beckoning to any unfortunate disciples who may see it come morning.

[dextixer]

Performative Slacktivism - Or how CRWBY and the FNDM want brownie points without putting effort into actual representation

(Also, how the FNDM keep using Montys name for petty arguments like the ghoulish fucks they are)

I know that we all are waiting for tomorrows episode and the moderation team is already gearing up for a possible shitshow depending on what the episode decides to do. But today i have noticed a bit of an old discussion rearing up again that i really wanted to adress.

I think i will not be out of line to say that RT is a shit corporation. But that alone does not bother me too much, shit corporations are common in our day and age. What always got to me is how RT kept pretending to be progressive, how they put on a show of being pro LGBT+, pro people of colour and the like, and yet their products have for the most part been devoid of actually showing that.

Sure, the creators will SAY that they are LGBT+, and then take FIVE and TEN years to confirm a single lesbian relationship (Of one which is for side-characters). And they will include a trans character after SEVEN years of production (Only to later be revealed that the person who voice acted that character experienced shitty behaviour at work in regards to their identity).

They will SAY that they are pro people of colour, only for the four main characters of the show be so white they glow in the dark and most dark-skinned characters either being relegated to background characters, antagonists/villains and/or being stereotypes until 4 years after the start of RWBY, Oscar was created? Or should i mention the piss poor writing of their racism allegory and the WF, which is very much created based on the Civil Rights era in the US? Writing so shit that it somehow manages to spread alt-right messages without intending to?

What im trying to say is that RT are and always have been fake ass progressives. They arent even rainbow capitalists, even rainbow capitalists (like Disney) do more than RT. RT does not even bother to put even THAT much effort.

RT wants brownie points for being progressive while being ANYTHING but. That would be bad enough, but the rabid Fandom that RT has cultivated seems to be intent on doing EXACTLY the same.

This is the first tweet that i saw on the topic. Yang is Chinese? Since fucking when? Shes whiter than the fucking white bread i make sandwitches with. She is whiter than the fucking snow! Instead of "using ones brains" maybe you will use your eyes?

This lead me to more brainrot than i could ever post here, so i will only post a few of the comments that i saved before i felt my brain leaking out of my fucking ears.

It seems that most of the "arguments" around Yang being Chinese center around her name (Which, by the way is written in the OPPOSITE way than it should be). Which in my opinion is quite a stupid fucking argument considering that my last name from my mothers side is part Polish and part German (Not gonna post it for obvious reasons), but im pretty fucking sure i aint Polish OR German.

The other argument is that both Yang AND Ruby have Chinese culture in their designs? Let me remind you that Ruby wears a gothic Lolita outfit, wields a Scythe and if i am not misremembering had a fucking cross around her neck. What about THAT is chinese? The ONLY argument there would be that Ruby has Japanese inspirations due to the gothic Lolita outfit. Scythe is associated with European conception of death (And as a farming implement) and the Cross is in the same category. Not to mention that Ruby is based on an European Fairy tale of the Red Riding Hood!

Yang on the other hand is based off Goldylocks (Another European fairy Tale) and has associations with Beauty and the Beast (Yet ANOTHER European fairy Tale). Nothing of what she wears has any distinguishable style. In fact Yang is so generic you can put her anywhere in the world and it would most likely fit.

Also, "Her name references a martial artists" thing really reeks of fucking whiteness. Yes? It does? How is that relevant? If i am named after a martial artist im suddenly Chinese now???

There is also another very unsubtle sinophobia, when talking about the Branwens being Japanese to prove that Yang is Chinese... I know that to Americans regions very much become blurred but holy shit, the LACK of thought that China and Japan are not the same just because they share a race is...... Its fucking insane...

The only partially valid argument i have seen is that people of White colour can also be Chinese/Japanese or come from any part of the world. Which is fair. IN THE REAL WORLD. This aint the fucking real world! This world of Remnant is created! They dont even have our countries! Mistral has a mix of Japan/China/Greek aesthetics.

JUST LOOK AT THEM! The supposedly "German" Weiss somehow has MORE colour than the "Chinese" sisters! Blake is the only one that has actual colour in her cheeks (And is STILL white). Ruby and Yang look like they would glow in the dark if i turned off the light! They would make a fucking shut-in blush with how pale they are! They are whiter than the milk in my fucking Cereal!

And you know what makes me mad? Because the show COULD have made these people actually have features of people of colour. Blakes Parents live on a TROPICAL ISLAND! Why the fuck is Blakes skin not olive or even darker? It COULD have been! But it isnt! IF Yang and Ruby are Chinese, where the hell are there ANY identifying features of them being Chinese?

The reason is simple. RT DOESNT CARE ABOUT REPRESENTATION! IT does not give a single solitary shit on a sunny summer afternoon about progressivism. The main 4 characters of the show are 4 glow in the dark white girls voiced by.... White women! (Yknow, its funny how they say that Yang is chinese and then full on not even acknowledge the good old chestnut of "Minority roles should be given to minorities")

I hate these fake progressive fuckers from the bottom of my heart. These people are more interested at licking the boots of a shitty corporation than actual representation! There is no argument, no LOW these fanatics will not sink to as long as they can worship a capitalist corporation, and im sick and tired of them pretending to be progressive. Because they fucking aint.

Also...

I hope that the fandom who weaponizes Monty. Burns to the ground. Previously, i did not care about V10 being greelit. I would not mind if it got greenlit or not. But when i see shit like this, all i wish is for V10 to never be greenlit. So that ghoulish corpsedigging necromatic fucks would fuck off.

Imagine using Monty as a cudgel for petty internet arguments. The fandom is a shithole, and they can PRETEND to be nice all they wish. But everyone can see these fuckers act like this.

[dragonsareoverrated2]

My pinned I guess?

//Ongoing Arc: Beautifly and the Beast!

//Finished Arcs: Dragon Pains, Blood of Blackthorn.

Hi, before you say anything about my name. One) DragonsAreOverrated was taken, and two) I dislike dragon types for very personal reasons that are related to my damn genetics donor of a father, so before you go on and tell me 'Dragons are great actually because-!' I dont wanna fucking hear it.

Alright, now that thats out of the way.

My name is Ichika and my pronouns are she/her, call me anything other than that and I will find you and bite you, or my Crobat will, which ever one of us gets to you first.

I'm the champ of the Naljo, don't know what that region is? Its in between Johto and Kanto, but it's a shithole here so don't come.

... I mean, I cant stop you if you want to visit me, I dont mind visitors...

I'm 23 years old, birthday April 22 (Marianne made me put this here), and am dating my girlfriend who… I think is what you guys would call a faller? She's not from here, but she's still from a place that had pokemon. She's 23 and named Marianne, she was originally from Kalos, moved to Hoenn, beat the league, and then got sucked up into another dimension which is mine.

She sometimes will pop up and write in pink, all her stuff will be tagged with #Mon Amour, which is what I asked to to put it as. I don't know that much Kalosion. She also has her own intro post here.

My team is Kage my Tyranitar (She/Her), Doku my Crobat (He/Him), Yuki my Mamoswine (She/They), Zappu my Ampharos (He/It), Noyaki my Ninetails (She/Her) and Ame my Vaporeon (He/They).

If you wanna battle, schedule it with the league, Im busy trying to fix this stupid region.

Update: I have an assortment of dragons I am taking care of for the foreseeable future.

Any care tips would be appreciated-

I call the Noibat Midori (He/it), the others finally gave me names-

Monterio (He/him), Kin (She/her), Daitan (She/Him), Hoshi (They/It), and Nagisa (She/They)

//Ask games that are open!

//A important note for Pelipper Mail and Musharna Mail

//Naljo Dex Logs Masterlist!

//Ooc info under the cut!

//How she looks!

//This is a sideblog! Unreality. Mod is an adult and goes by she/her he/him pronouns All art I use is my own! I follow from @theshadowqueenofthedistortion, more info about me on my main! Here's some of my other accounts as well!

//Semi-Serious blog, I will participate in active silliness and also write serious stuff. Will sometimes touch on death, abuse and a few other things, I will tag the serious stuff with their appropriate tw/cw tags.

//No Shipping, a lot of the stuff in here is closed off.

//I am very open to crossover stuff!

//Pokemon in this universe have human levels of sentience, though multiverses that don't are well known and won't be questioned.

//Real life animals exist along side Pokemon in her universe, like divergent evolution (not the pokemon thing, the science thing)

//A warning that this character is rather antagonistic but not evil. If you are actually able to get her to like you she will chill out a bit, but you're gonna have to work to that. Also please tell me if she's being too much at all, this is my first time writing a fully bitchy character-

//Magic anons are on! But I am picky about what I let through.

//What the tags mean. //Shadow Mod Speaks: Mod speaking. //Mod Reference: Me and/or Zorana making references for this account //Shadow Art: Art by me that isn't a ref/finished. Stony Ground: Her post/response tag. Stone Edge: Her closed and/or serious RP. I will also use this tag when responding seriously to something. What's with the dragons?: When Ichika is mainly talking to herself. Prismatic Rival (Prism): Ichika talking about her Rival who is a jerk Broken Eggshells (Hatch): Hatchling Posts and Ichika talking about her!

//Marianne related tags will be in her intro post