#the sudden thing is that my mother is dying. which she’s been dying for a year. but now she’s dying with a sudden increased rapidity

[lunar-years]

Life is so weird because you can just be having like a normal regular Wednesday and then all of a sudden something happens and it becomes the single worst day of your entire time on earth with an impending Even Worse Day in near future and you just have to deal with that and keep living and the most fucked up part is that the whole while there’s still a not small-part of your brain that’s thinking god I still want to go to eras tour on Friday I hope I can and then you just have to sit with that

[heartofmortis]

✶ Lionheart

Prologue

Robb Stark x (Baratheon/Lannister!) Reader

warnings: none!

note: so this is also an oc fic on wp, but i wanted to try out something new! in rewriting to second person, some edits have been made. there will be no y/n, and there are other ocs in this fic (since that’s what i usually write) and reader does have some physical descriptions. // there is minor canon divergence regarding hotd/f&b here, which links to my other asoiaf fics and there are a couple of ocs mentioned in the chapter (hopefully that won’t be annoying lol).

word count: 2k

tag list: @houseofamidala @madeofstaardust @tojisrealwifey @justmymindandstuff (lmk if you want to be added of removed!)

You were four when blood first touched your innocent skin. Your skin was no longer pure, neither was your heart. All children learn the fragility of life in time, you learned of it through the sacrifice of a tiny bird.

The creatures always circled King’s Landing as vultures searched for the dead. “The little birds are always looking for trouble,” came Cersei Lannister’s warning in the castle gardens with you nestled close in your mother’s arms. “Watch your step or they’ll be waiting in your shadows all your life.”

When you were set down, your feet steady on the ground, you raced on ahead. Your long skirts clung to your little legs, blonde curls bounding behind you. The air was thick with sweet pollen and fruit, signs of a happy summer. Moss grew between the bricks on the cobbled ground, pushing the stone in uneven directions — you skipped over them easily, pausing to gaze at the bumblebees nestling inside tight flowerheads and the ladybirds crawling across bright green leaves. You wished it could be only you and your mother in the gardens forever. You slipped out of your mother’s line of sight to steal berries and press as many as possible into your mouth, licking sweet juice from your fingers to keep your dainty snack a secret.

Then you came to a sudden halt, almost tripping forwards in your haste, when you found your path blocked by a tiny bird — a bundle of brown feathers dappled with grey and white and red. Its body was horribly twisted, but it was still moving. You took the bird in your hands, scarlet smeared across your fingers. You did not want the poor creature to be damaged further. The bird squeaked desperately and tried to flap its broken wings.

You brought the bird against your chest, cupped with both of your delicate hands, and ran back across the path you had come down. You took the bird to your mother, who was quick to scold you for touching a dying animal. “But can’t the maesters help?” Your eyes were wide and glassy, mouth warped into a mournful frown. (Your mother always had the right answers — she was the smartest person in King’s Landing.)

Cersei laughed. It was not a cold sound, more of a marvel at her daughter’s naivety. “The Maesters can only help us, sweet girl. They cannot help a little bird.” They always look for trouble.

You huffed, deeming your mother’s response to be an unacceptable response. “Why?”

The Queen motioned for one of their guards to come over and take the bird’s frail body from your hands, which became a struggle with your reluctance. “We’re all built very differently. A dove is not a wolf, and a stag is not a lion.”

“But it will die!”

“All things do, eventually.” Cersei ushered forth two handmaidens that walked behind the two of you. “Now you have blood all over you — go and get cleaned up. There is no use in helping the dying while the living are still here.”

You walked with heavy steps back to the Red Keep, muttering about the unfairness of the bird’s fate — it was a baby, why could it not be saved? If all things die, why is life not more precious? Any day could be the last.

“Where are you scurrying away to, little doe?” Your father’s voice was a formidable boom when he caught you in the corridors, flanked by handmaidens, wandering towards your rooms.

You showed your father the specs of blood across your dress. “Mother says I have to clean up.”

Robert Baratheon laughed. He shooed away your company and picked his daughter up with one strong arm. “A little blood never hurts anyone. You’re a Baratheon, my stormbird. You’ll get used to blood in no time”

The King took you to the throne room. You liked it here: the tall ceiling, the ivy-strewn pillars, the warm glow of sunlight, and the Iron Throne. Robert took his seat and rested you on his knee. You stared around the room, you had never seen it from this angle before. Between the tower of swords from the first Dragon King, still sharp enough to tear you in half, it felt powerful to sit here. You could imagine hundreds of people knelt before them and understood why men spent their lives chasing power. (You felt like a true Princess.)

“This would have been your’s one day if your mother had not had that damn brother of yours.”

Your father’s voice was rough with bitterness. His words pulled you out of her daydream. Only a year younger than you, your brother, Joffrey, was a terror. Your mother doted on her children equally, but you knew your father had his favourite. You were secretly happy with it — the less time you spent with Joffrey pulling heads off flowers and doing worse, vicious things, the better.

“One day,” your King father continued, “you will marry a great lord, a good lord. But you should always have a place here, my daughter.”

/✿✿✿/

Robb Stark was eight when he learned what real summer felt like. In the aftermath of a rebellion in the Iron Islands led by his father and the King, Robb and his twin sister, Alys, travelled to King’s Landing with their father to attend Robert Baratheon’s Name Day celebration. Spring had passed and the snows around Winterfell were low. Robb spent half the journey complaining about how he wanted to ride his horse next to his father while their septa told him to pay attention to their lessons. Watching the country change shape along the Kingsroad did keep Robb moderately interested — glimpsing the lands outside of the North was rather novel. Alys shared Robb’s adventurous instinct and they ran amok, hiding between trees and tents of their father’s company every time they stopped for a meal. But there were only so many games two eight year olds could play.

For all Ned Stark had told his children about King’s Landing and the Red Keep, Robb found it all rather underwhelming. There was no grand welcome for the Starks when they arrived. The city streets were too busy and the air was too hot.

Robb and Alys were brought before the Iron Throne — the hideous, towering King’s Seat made with a thousand melted swords — to be presented to King Robert Baratheon, their father’s oldest friend. Robb was aware he had been named after the King (just as his half-brother Jon had been named after Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King). Perhaps Robb’s father saw greatness in his son’s future, a boy worth naming after a king. Robert Baratheon was not the formidable giant Robb had expected to meet. Robb could imagine the warrior king that had won the throne and broke the Greyjoy Rebellion and hoped he would never fight in a war.

The Starks were escorted to their guest rooms for the duration of their stay. Alys and Robb’s rooms lay next to each other. Before Robb could finish unpacking his chest, Alys snuck into her brother’s room. She laid back on his bed, Robb made a fuss when his sister got her boots on the sheets.

“I want to explore. Will you come with me?”

Robb did not hesitate before he nodded, a grin spread across his face. Unpacking was boring anyway.

The twins barrelled through red corridors, ducking under maids and Kingsguards. The castle was theirs for the taking.

The Red Keep was bigger than any of the Northern castles the twins had visited before, full of labyrinthine corridors. A maze without a centre for Robb — but Alys seemed to know where she wanted to be.

Robb and Alys were stopped in their tracks when Robb almost tumbled into a girl. She was their age, if younger by a few moons, dressed in pink and gold with dark blonde curls. A huge black cat with a grumpy expression was clasped in her arms. Alys recognised the girl first. Robb felt a winter chill blow through him, tethering him frozen in place. The girl was pretty like a colourful bloom in the snow. She looked at the twins, wide-eyed and curious. She held the kind of warmth the North only felt during fleeting spring days. Alys punched her twin brother in the stomach and Robb mimicked her bow.

You smiled, a pink glow on her freckle-dappled cheeks. “You must be the Stark twins. Father told me about you.”

“Can you take us to see the dragons?” Alys asked quickly, eagerly rocking on the balls of her feet. “I thought I knew the way but…”

You paused, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. The cat in your arms jumped free — he rounded the twins, giving judgemental looks, and brushed against Alys’s legs before darting away. “They’re all underground now,” you explained. “We aren’t supposed to visit them, but I know the way.”

It was evening by the time you and the Stark twins entered the cellar room beneath the castle. Golden hour light faded, leaving the underground room in growing shadows. Robb had not been as enthusiastic as Alys and Jon about House Targaryen in all their lessons, but his heart thundered in his chest, mouth agape when he saw the nineteen dragon skulls.

The smallest dragon skulls were even smaller than direwolves, tiny dog-sized creatures but their teeth were still dagger-sharp. As the three children ventured down the room, the dragons grew bigger. You explained that many of them were unknown. Robb wondered how magical it must have been to live centuries ago and see dragons patrolling the sky. The largest dragon skulls were those of Meraxes, ridden by Queen Rhaenys, Vhagar, ridden by Queen Visenya, and Balerion the Black Dread, ridden by Aegon the Conqueror. Most dragons have more than one rider, but later riders paled in comparison to the conquerors.

“This one is Vermax,” you told Robb, pointing to another dragon skull halfway down the room. “Ridden by King Jacaerys, First of his Name. He married a Stark. An Arya, I think.”

Robb turned to his sister to tell her that one of their ancestors had married a dragonrider, but Alys had stepped away. She was distracted by another dragon.

“That’s Syrax,” you said quietly to Robb. “She was ridden by Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Alys touched Syrax’s skull and smiled wistfully. “She was yellow.”

You tensed. “I don’t think we’re allowed to touch them. I’m not supposed to come down here after dark.”

Robb approached his sister, whose stormy eyes still gazed wistfully at the dragons, and touched her arm. “Let’s go to the kitchens. See if they have lemon cakes.”

Finally, Alys looked away and nodded. She cracked a smile. “But don’t tell Sansa — she would be upset if we had cake without her.”

Together, the children left the cellar room. Robb stared at the dragon skulls for as long as possible as you closed the door. To see a dragon fly over Winterfell… He sighed sadly and wished there was more magic left in the world.

You showed them to the kitchens. Alys skipped on ahead, wondering out loud about how wonderful it must be to live in the Red Keep and you were happy to fuel her daydreams. The three of you scurried up a spiral staircase, for once Robb did not challenge his sister to a race. Which was probably a good thing as Alys was ahead and she did not see him trip up the stairs. Robb threw his hands out, scraping his skin against the rough stone to catch himself. You looked at him and Robb turned red, embarrassed to make a fool of himself in front of the princess.

You helped him up. Blood from a small cut on Robb’s palm smeared onto your hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s only a little blood. Here–” You sat Robb down on the step and took the hem of your dress to dab away the blood.

Robb clenched his fist and moved away. “You’ll ruin your dress.”

You took his hand back, gently uncurling his fingers. “That doesn’t matter.”

You dabbed at the thin beads of blood, holding for a few seconds. You both waited as the blood stopped spilling. “I’ll ask one of the cooks to help you.” You stood and reached out to take Robb’s other hand. He took your hand gratefully and stood. “Don’t worry,” you added, “everything will be alright.”

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.

[llamagoddessofficial]

how would the normal boyo's react to mc's death?

no murder, nothing crazy, just old age taking away the love of their lives.

and for bonus points lets say they had been happily married for decades as to add on the memories and the sudden shock of losing someone that had become such a key factor in your life.

I think I've mentioned this before, but it doesn't hurt to bring it up again. Aggre Mc is going to live a lot longer than she expected. Even with absolutely no intervention, thanks to her connection with the guys, her Soul has three major sources of magic nearby that instinctively constantly share their power with hers. It will probably expand her lifetime by a century, minimum. Her big issue isn't going to be dying; it's going to be dealing with the implications of living so much longer than she thought she would.

There's also the topic of a Soul bond. If she Soul bonds with any of the three of them, and doesn't have kids, she's pretty much going to live as a monster does (forever, unless interrupted). In Aggre, they definitely discuss the subject of her possible death eventually- and my personal canon post-Aggre is that after settling into a rhythm and spending a few decades together, when Mc decides she wants to Soul bond, the boys elect Sans to be the one she bonds with. She'd then live with them like that.

But... in a hypothetical scenario, where Mc resists everything and dies... I think this is how it would go. Obviously, angst and death under the cut.

Sans: Honestly, Sans takes her approaching death the best. Which should really worry you about how the other two would react. Does he fall apart? Absolutely, the last time he felt this kind of agony was when he lost his mother. But Sans has always been good at disguising his emotions, hiding tremendous pain under an easygoing exterior. He keeps up with the dishes, organises her end of life care, keeps contact with his friends. Papyrus would be the only one to see even a fraction of the true extent of Sans' grief. Sans is about to lose the love of his life, and has completely frozen over to avoid crumbling.

Red: He definitely takes it better than you'd expect, considering he'd have a mended relationship with his brother. But it still hits. It's cruel that the universe sent him someone who taught him how to let himself feel, then took that person away and delivered the worst pain he's ever felt.

Mc would be proud of him, though. Despite the pain, he avoids falling back into the worst of his old addictions, because he knows its not what she would want and it won't actually make the pain go away. It will just numb him to everything; including those who are trying to help. He picks up smoking again in the days leading up to her death, but he avoids the bottle.

Skull: It's hard, for him. It's really hard.

All of them knew it would be particularly difficult for Skull. They had a long time to discuss it- a long time to talk the subject over. Mc prepared stuff for him, for after she's gone... people to talk to, things of hers to hold when it hurts, exercises for him to hopefully learn to deal with it. For a while, everyone was convinced Skull was ready. Even Skull.

... But he just... he just can't do it. He can't do it. He can't let her go. It doesn't matter how many hours she spent holding his hands, how hard they all believed he'd be fine without her- it doesn't matter how much he healed by her side and how well adjusted he seems now. The moment he realises she's really genuinely dying, the journey ahead of him looks so impossibly dark, so frightening. He holds her as she's dying and he feels so small. He cries like a baby and begs her not to leave him behind.

The moment she dies, he catches her Soul. He holds it in his hands, hushing it like a scared bird and tucking it away into his chest, where he can keep her alive. Honestly, they'd have to cut him open if they wanted to let her pass on.

... But I think at that point, Red and Sans aren't exactly fighting to make him let go. In fact... something unspoken passes between the three of them. Skull just did what all of them wanted to do.

Skull gives her to Sans, who keeps her hidden away, within his own Soul. Her Soul knows his best, and will feel most comfortable there long-term.

They'll figure out something. They have all the time in the world.

[faeruy]

Agatha All Along Tarot Time! Episode 4 - If I Can't Reach You, Let My Song Teach You

Okay so we got a new one; appropriately enough the Three of Swords, triggered while they were all dealing with Teen's injury/near death. I say appropriately, because traditionally Swords is the suit associated with fire, so it makes sense that it shows up as a result of The Protection Witch/Fire's Trial on the Witch's Road. (EDIT; SO MANY LIES. Wands is fire, Swords is air. Sorry folks, don't write posts at 3am without editting)

Now onto the specifics. As with my last tarot post, I'm mostly in it as a hobby, so my interpretations may not be perfect.

Sword cards are usually pretty intense, and the Three of Swords is no exception. It centers around grief, heartbreak, sorrow, emotional pain; all things Agatha is feeling as a result of almost losing Teen, who she all but says she thinks is her son (is he? absolutely not, but I love that she thinks he could be). It tends to refer to sudden grief - and given how fast Teen went down, their sorrow would feel very unexpected and sudden indeed. Three of Swords suggests that the thing needed is a good cry (or a hug from ex-girlfriend who's the embodiment of Death), but that one shouldn't get lost in it or wallow for too long when there's more going on (like the rest of the road). First glance, it's easy to keep the association simple; Teen's dying, and they (mostly Agatha) are sad about it.

But there's a reason it's done here, and not during, say... Sharon's death. And that has to do with the Reverse meaning, which is complicating things for Agatha. Heartbreak is still a large component of Three of Swords Reversed, but instead of current, immediate pain, it talks about older hurts; the end of a relationship (like Agatha and Rio), a loss that hasn't been gotten over (like Agatha with her son). Because Agatha at this point thinks Teen is likely her lost son, seeing him dying triggered ALL the pain both old and new, and it's like the Three of Swords smacked her in the face.

The Reversed Three of Swords is ultimately hopeful though - it suggests a path of healing, forgiveness, and a release of pain tied to those old hurts. I kind of hope that that's foreshadowing for what we'll see with Agatha and the rest of the coven. The Road giving them the chance to heal, maybe.

We're already seeing that a little with Alice, who definitely has strong ties to the card because of the trauma caused by her mother's death. By the end of the episode, she's started to come to terms with what happened and the curse that haunted her family for so long. Honestly Three of Swords could just be the thesis statement of the entire episode; the only reason I focus more on how it ties to Agatha is because Teen's predicament (and Agatha's reaction to it) was the clear trigger.

That's all I got for this one, hope you enjoyed it, and If you're new to this post, I've done analysis on other Episodes, starting with the first 3, and then individually after that.

Episode 1-3 Episode 5 Episode 6 Episode 7 part 1 Episode 7 part 2

[dairy-farmer]

Jaytim where Jason gets cucked by.... *gasp* Willis Todd!?

Instead of dying he simply served a long sentence and was released shortly after his son's marriage. Of course he wants to reconnect!

One of my favourite headcanons is that Jason has a mommy kink, so it would fit well if Tim shared some traits and mannerisms with Catherine.

Anyways idk if Tim would ever willingly cheat with Willis, or if this is some dubious/non-consensual scenario, but it might end with patricide, a retraumatized Jason and Tim giving birth to at least one of Jason's siblings. Not neccessarily in that order.

yes yes yseby yes ye sye s YESRESS YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i LOVE this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

where willis was never killed he just got sentenced to serve a long sentence. when he gets out its been years, a lot of his old stomping grounds have been bulldozed, crime has been severely cracked down upon due to batman's presence. a lot of the simple "honest" work that willis used to be able to use to get by has been all but made oblique. plus he's behind. since getting locked behind bars the world has essentially left him behind. his wife who used to put money on his books had stopped, not because she'd met another man but because she'd gone and died.

when willis gets out he has nothing, no one. but the rule of his probation was that he needed a permanent address where the officer could roll by and check on him at any minute.

all of willis' old contacts, mainly women who he'd messed around with, had either changed their numbers, disappeared, or moved on from him.

willis' options are limited. he'd been born nothing into nothing but he'd still made use of what he had to crawl himself up. decent looks and enough charisma to power a steamboat had been his saving grace. it was what had landed him a nice loyal woman that always put up bail money and raised his bastard.

but willis wasn't so young anymore. that dark hair had faded to streaks of gray, his features had weathered due to age. he was still good looking but not young enough to get stupid little girls to offer him anything he wanted in exchange for a little attention.

but willis was lucky. the gotham prison system had under gone revisions in recent years and a database had been established to help recently released felons reconnect with family and friends to keep them off the streets and therefore away from re-offending.

it's how willis manages to find out his son was alive and not dead in a gutter or rotting in some prison upstate.

what a pleasant surprise!

the little shit had never deigned to visit willis and the address the secretary gives him is in one of the nicer parts of crime alley.

willis can't say he didn't resent the kid a bit. getting a baby dumped on him by a girl he fucked once or twice was a pain in the ass. moreso that when he brought the baby home to catherine she'd cried.

hurt and betrayed that willis had cheated on her.

willis would admit that beneath the hard exterior, part of him had felt a churn of something in his gut at making his cathy cry. she was different from the other women, from the girls he fucked and dumped. it was why he'd kept her around, married her.

she was genuine. sweet. she looked at willis with a look of concern his own mother had never given him. she worried about him, patched him up when he'd return bruised and cut up. she was the only one who ever believed willis would make something of himself, citing willis' head for numbers which had landed him pretty decent jobs as a number runner and accountant that had given them a comfortable life.

until the baby arrived. then all of a sudden willis' meager pay was going towards diapers and milk and all the million things babies needed.

willis would admit the kid had single-handedly ruined him and cathy by draining their finances. cathy had tried to assure him it was alright, that they'd figure things out. she'd even tried going down to the welfare office to get help paying for the kid.

but she'd been rejected. both their criminal records made it so they were on their own.

it meant willis had been made to start taking riskier jobs from shadier employers. cathy had to call up old contacts and start working as a courier again just so they could make ends meet.

so willis hated the kid.

oh he pretended he didn't. for cathy's sake. she'd grown attached and willis had lost the opportunity to suggest they dump the kid at the firehouse or an orphanage.

willis admitted he'd smacked the kid around a bit. mostly when he'd cry that cathy wasn't around.

when willis had gotten the rotten end of stick and landed himself nearly 20 years in prison on a trumped up charge it hadn't felt real.

he'd felt like he was in some sort of waking nightmare as his bumbling public defender fucked up his case.

20 years was a long time to spend behind bars. some of the guys willis got locked up with turned to religion, others tied their identities to the prison gangs and sank deeper into the tar pit of crime.

willis did what he could to maintain his sanity.

until the day of his release when he's handed back the clothes he was arrested in along with his belongings. a wallet with a wrinkled 5 dollar bill, a receipt from the bus, his old house key, and a notebook of addresses that'd landed him in lockup.

willis feels lost when the prison bus dumps him on some random street corner in gotham, a pamphlet of resources in hand, alongside about 12 other inmates.

unlike most of them, willis was literate enough to actually read what was printed and made his way to the listed office. the office which directed him to the home of his estranged son that he hadn't seen since the day he got thrown over the hood of a police car for entering the wrong damn building run by the wrong damn people.

willis may be old. he may have spent the last 20 years of his life in prison. his wife may be dead, his old apartment bulldozed to make room for some gentrified apartment building, and he may have nothing but the clothes on his back- but willis still had his mouth. and that opened a world of possibilities.

jason was taller, broader. he looked disturbingly like willis' father which meant he probably looked a lot like willis.

his hands were thick and calloused, scarred over from hard work as he stood in the doorway in a wife beater and low hanging sweatpants.

willis knew what it felt like to have no lost love for a father. so he just says what it would've taken him to open his door to his father if he'd somehow come back from the dead.

jason's home is cluttered, stacks of books and knickknacks littering shelves and low tables. it's full. but full in a way that willis can tell the home is well loved and occupied. there are paintings and posters on the wall along with pictures. little details are scattered throughout the home that tell willis his son does not live alone. and he's right when he spots the curious figure lingering at the entrance to the kitchen.

willis nearly feels his breath hitch at the sight of the other person. from a certain distance, from an angle...they almost looked like cathy. short dark hair, small figure, soft sloped hips, pretty pink lips, big wet doe-like eyes, long curled lashes...

looks like his son had gotten himself a nice little woman to keep him company in this cozy little house of his.

a clench of something warm and wanting swirled in willis' gut but he pushed it down. no. he could think more on that once he was comfortable and secured a bed.

jason was reluctant. he was recently married, had started some new job at a city planning office, and had just started settling down with his little wife that introduced himself as 'tim'.

saying the right words to squirm his way in comes natural to willis, no amount of time locked up could change that, and jason's little wife also helps.

just like cathy. having faith in a stranger's words, believing that people were better than they actually were.

jason doesn't give in too easily though. willis wouldn't have either.

but willis gets the spare bedroom in the apartment and jason warns him its temporary, just until he gets on his feet and so the parole officer doesn't get on his ass about it.

willis would admit it was nice to have the privacy of a room. a bed that wasn't more of a gym mat than mattress and running hot water whenever he wanted. jason rarely left the home those first few weeks, eyes always locked on willis when he'd come out of the room. more than once he'd dump a newspaper on willis' lap and tell him to start searching the classifieds, that plenty of people were willing to hire ex-cons.

apparently jason's little wife knew better than anyone since he worked for a charity helping underprivileged youths. it must have given him some divine need to help because he often helped willis fill out job applications after willis pretended to struggle reading the words printed on the newsprint.

the night after willis' perceived illiteracy some part of jason seemed to have lightened up. he and jason are washing up the dishes when jason quietly inquired.

"can you really not read?"

of course willis could. he wasn't some kind of fucking moron.

but it seemed to earn sympathy points from people. after all there was nothing more uncomfortable seeing a grown man struggle to read. it makes people not view someone as much of a threat.

its probably part of the reason why jason starts lightening up a little. starts making short trips out of the apartment to do errands while willis remained on his best behavior.

willis was good at maintaining the facade. he'd done it for 20 years in prison, pretending to be a browbeaten, meek, mouse of a man that stuttered so hard he nearly passed out when confronted.

it had been a different kind of humiliation to endure that for 20 long years. being used as entertainment by bigger fish who'd chortle and laugh as willis had to pretend to nearly piss in pants in fear just at being spoken to.

but he'd done it. so he could survive.

being demeaned and degraded day in and day out did something to a man''s brain.

it changed him biologically. made it so the minute he got something he wanted he did anything he could to keep it.

willis was still living under his son's roof, was still at the mercy of his benevolence. was still stuck in a little room without any real freedom.

his son might believe they were reconciling to an extent but jason was still a man in his own home and that meant he couldn't help but try to make willis prostrate.

willis listens to his son fuck his little wife from the next room with a throbbing cock in hand.

20 years was a long time to go without pussy. cathy was long gone but there had been no one who compared to her hot little cunt that had stretched so good around him.

willis pumped his cock listening to breathy moans and high pitched whines of jason rocking into his whore, imagining the stretch of little timmy's cunt over his cock, thinking of fucking him so hard that tender pussy would be bruised and red from the force of it all.

willis can feel his self control start to slip.

going in and taking his son's woman was highly risky and could land him out on the streets again.

but willis didn't know how many more nights he could take before his hand wasn't enough.

then willis reconnects with old acquaintances. ones who haven't changed at all.

no suspicion is drawn about him going out for a beer with old "friends". not that willis would ever consider any of the trash he surrounded himself with as anything more than 'associate'.

but they do have their uses. like one of the men who mainly dealt near the colleges and financial areas.

its not hard to score a few pills from him.

willis crushes them to a fine powder in his room using two heavy books until he had a baggy small enough to fit up his sleeve. from there it was a matter of waiting.

waiting for the next time jason would go out for a few hours.

the gods must be smiling down on willis because he catches a break.

a problem at one of the sites jason works at has had a problem and he'll be gone until the next morning fixing it.

willis doesn't act immediately even though every part of him wants to. he waits until it's lunch and prepares a glass of fruit juice for tim as usual, bringing it to him with every bit of forced casualness as he can.

tim is working and takes occasional sips of the juice and bites of a sandwich while willis hovers nearby, waiting.

eventually the pills kick in.

tim starts shifting. his head starts lolling side to side as tim massages the back of his neck. hands start scratching at the edges of his clothes and wiping away sudden sweat.

when tim stands up with a low call of 'bathroom' but then stumbles- that's when willis swoops in.

bootleg pollen was stupidly easy to obtain. it was untraceable in a tox screen, had a half life of 45 minutes, could be ingested orally, snorted, or absorbed through the skin, was borderline impossible to overdose on, increased body temperature, and made sex so much hotter.

willis had only heard whispers of it, mostly from men who were serving sentences for having used it and how they said it was fully worth it with wistful looks.

willis couldn't help but agree with them as he sank with ease into a dipping little pussy with a relieved gasp that ripped out of him. willis had to just sit there for a little, eyes closed and just feeling the vice of a hot cunt all around his cock. jason's woman let out a soft whine and little murmurs under him, his limbs lax and heavy as his head tilted one way and the other. his brows were furrowed and eyes closed as he softly squirmed, soft bottom inching away until willis reached down and pulled him closer, forcing more of his cock in until he was fully bottomed out. willis felt his pelvis be pressed flush to soft little baby cunt and how nice of jason's woman to keep himself so beautifully waxed.

willis started slow, grinding and grunting against the neck of jason's woman, trying to hold him back from going too fast for fear of cumming too quickly. but that thought left just as soon as it came and willis started furiously fucking the hole under him, insides desperate for release. willis had all day to take his time but for the moment he was going to make up for 20 years worth of fucking.

jason's woman was quite the champ. usually after a few rounds willis was getting pushed away by exhausted broads who'd whine about being too tired to keep going.

not cathy though. never his cathy, no she always let willis go for as long as he wanted until he was satiated. she'd wrap her arms around him and hold him to her while willis fucked her cunt full of load after load. even if she wouldn't be able to move in the morning, even if her cunt would be bruised to the heavens- she'd just press a kiss to willis's forehead and thank him.

god he fucking missed her. 20 years and he hadn't even known they'd buried her in some nameless fucking plot under a number instead of her name.

jason's woman looked so much like her. those pretty eyes, that soft hair, those full cheeks.

god his cathy hadn't aged a day.

willis snapped his hips into a whining cathy a little faster, letting her tilt her head back while he panted over her, nowhere near as young as he used to be.

willis pressed their faces together just like he used to when they'd spend all of saturday and sunday just fucking in their shoebox apartment. willis felt his breath grown heavier as he pumped his cock into cathy, her cunt letting out a wet thick noise everytime he tugged out.

"gnnn, cathy baby i missed you-" and he had, god willis had. he'd never had a good thing in his life but cathy oh fuck his cathy was the only worthwhile thing he'd ever had.

he's borderline lightheaded as his hips stutter, chest tightening and jaw clenching as he tightens his bruising grip on the hips of the hole under him until he's spilling and flooding hot cum into the welcoming womb below him.

willis isn't sure how long he lies there, fucking and cumming and filling a womb with his cum. it must be hours, maybe the whole the day. everytime jason's woman starts struggling a little harder, willis reaches under the couch for the baggy and dumps some over his face, pinching his nose so he has no choice but to swallow and then he's wet and loose all over again.

willis is so focused on it and lost in the sensations he doesn't hear the key in the front door turning. doesn't hear the boots and the steps. doesn't hear how they freeze, how they pause and then start moving rapidly in his direction faster and faster.

willis didn't know jason kept guns. he just assumed his son was too much of a pussy about them. but he was wrong. if he'd checked the closet beside the door or underneath the table by the kitchen he would've found the legally registered, fully loaded fire arm.

willis only sees it when he's ripped back and off tim, the glint of the metal the last thing he sees before jason empties the clip into his head.

willis is not present for the fallout, to see the way he has permanently re-traumatized his son.

his son who had believed his piece of shit father's words about reconciling, the piece of shit father he invited to his home, the piece of shit father he left with his wife, the piece of shit father he arrived home to find raping his wife.

jason is not alright. he's only ever been disappointed by father's his whole life- he should've known better. the moment his father refused to get revenge on his murder should've been the only sign he needed to know better. but jason was just determined to shoot himself in the foot everytime.

and now tim was paying the price for jason's stupidity as well.

jason is meticulous in cleaning the apartment. tim was already unconcious by the time jason arrived, pollen was scattered all beside his head.

so jason rests him on the couch and covers him with a sheet, careful to wipe between his legs to catch...emissions.

tim will awake from the pollen and remember nothing from it and maybe that will be a mercy. the only one to remember what happened will be jason whole cleaned his father's splattered brains off the wall. jason gathers what's left of the corpse and takes it out to an abandoned bridge overseeing one of the rivers in gotham that drains to the ocean.

he weighs each of his father's limbs down with a cinder block and pushes him off the railing. when his parole officer passes by jason will tell him he hadn't even known his father got out of prison.

jason cleans tim carefully, tenderly. he only has to hold himself over the toilet to dry heave once after he'd finished scraping his father's cum out of his wife.

in the morning tim wakes up in pain and delirious with a fever from the pollen.

jason tells him what happened and holds him while he cries but its hard to be traumatized over something you can't remember. its more the paranoia and the thoughts of wondering what happened that drive the depression.

weeks later the parole officer arrives looking for jason's father and it takes everything jason has to remain calm.

another few weeks and jason and tim decide they can't continue to live in their little apartment and they move. another few weeks and tim's period doesn't come and dread fills them both as they realize that it's unlikely that willis was able to get real pollen that it was likely bootleg pollen, the ones that had the effect of forcing people into ovulation.

they think about getting rid of it, they think about ignoring how they've been trying for a baby but have had no luck because jason was essentially a cadaver powered by kiddie pool magic.

they think of not going through with it.

but in the end they can't bring themselves to. they've wanted a baby so badly for so long. they can't do it.

its hard to come to terms with. they tell no one about willis, its easy because they'd told none of the family he'd been staying with them.

they assume jason is the father and he is. jason has been slowly training his mind to disregard the technicalities of genetics, to ignore how if bruce or anyone ever ran a scan on his and tim's baby they'd find he's closer to jason's half brother than son.

they ignore it. they celebrate tim's pregnancy and prepare with all the joy they were holding in for their baby.

and they're happy.

it takes awhile but they are.

their baby is born pink and screaming with a thick head of hair and the most gorgeous little eyes. she has the same little dimple as jason does when she smiles and dick coos over it when he comes to visit them.

"oh she looks so much like her daddy!"

the words only cause the slightest of aches but it fades when jason hears his daughter giggle.

they were good. they were happy.

at the very least willis had been good for one thing in his miserable life.

tim heard him say that and gave him a small, soft look before leaning up to kiss him.

two things, tim would whisper before bending down to give their baby another kiss.

jason pretended like the words didn't choke him up and rested his head on tim's, holding him close while they listened to their sleeping baby take soft, slow breaths.

[penny-anna]

i bought a flat this week.

was off work sick last thursday/friday with what turned out to be the beginnings of a bad cold but at the time i was just like 'oh no why am i so tired is this the return of the Mystery Fatigue'

let's backtrack for a second!! back when i had the offer accepted on my flat my solicitor suggested october 6th as a move in date and i was like sure that works (this was around the beginning of september). then i didn't hear anything from them for many days and then i started getting major dry eye problems that became all consuming so i didn't get around to chasing them.

anyway!! tuesday last week i get an email from my solicitor like 'hi are you still able to complete friday' and i did not have the headspace to deal with it so i didn't reply

Wednesday my solicitor calls like 'hi. we need to know if you want to complete friday'. i'm like 'actually i'm really not feeling well this week, could we postpone'. she calls back a few minutes later like 'they cannot postone'. at this point i'm still thinking that if i get a decent night's sleep i'll feel better so i tell her i'll deal with it in the morning.

Thursday i feel spectacularly worse. have to get up to go to an appointment with my optometrist. almost start crying in their office bcos i'm just so exhausted. (he seemed weirdly unfazed by this?? looking back i wonder if he thought my eyes were hurting or something and didn't realise that i was holding back tears gfhglj) call out sick from work.

plan is to take a nap and then look at the documents my solicitor sent over but she calls me again like 'hi. sorry to bother you i know you're sick but can we complete today' so i'm like ah shit ig we're doing this now. please walk me through exactly what you need me to do here. 'we just need you to send us the money'. yeah i can do that. i've never made a payment this big before tho.

(i'm buying w money inherited from my mother so even for a flat purchase it's an unusually large amount of money)

'oh yeah you won't be able to that online. *pause* are you well enough to go to the bank?' i am tired enough that going to the bank will suck but not so sick i cannot go to the bank.

i had gone fully back to bed. spurred on by sudden wave of adrenaline, get out of bed and dressed and get the bus into town to the bank.

my bank closes at 3pm weekdays and by the time i get that it's about 1:45. explain the situation. turns out that to make a payment this big you need a sit-down meeting with a member of staff and they are booked solid till 3. 'can you come back tomorrow at 9:30 when we open' *dying inside* yes. i can come back tomorrow at 9:30.

go home. remember that i'd told my manager that i'd call her at 9 to let her know if i'm going to be working (i will defo not be working & she knows this) which will be tricky if i have to leave at 9 to go to the bank. have a pretty interminable IM conversation via microsoft teams about this wherein i suggest i message her first thing and call a bit later and she isn't going for it. eventually agree to call at 9 just so i can end the conversation and go to sleep.

Friday morning end up calling my manager from the bus. get to bank. whole thing takes a full 30 minutes so yeah i can see why they couldn't fit me in thursday afternoon ghfdljkfhdj. i'm so so tired. they have to go over a whole fraud prevention statement with you. 'you should be aware that scammers can pretend to be your solicitor'. me, exhausted: okay what if just this one time. a scammer is pretending to be my solicitor.

make the payment. go home to sleep finally.

later in the afternoon get another call from the solicitor. 'hi we have the keys you can come get them whenever'. oh yeah i'd been so caught up in trying to get them the money i'd kinda forgotten about. actually getting the flat.

(side note at no point was i planning to move in on 'moving day', an advantage of being a first time buyer is that i don't have to & i want to redecorate the place which is easier while it's empty)

initially say i'll come in next week but then realise that ideally next week i'll be back at work (i am not but anyway) so i might as well go now. it's pushing 4pm so will need to head out ASAP.

eyes are very dry and itchy from sleeping all day but fortunately i just (on a recommendation from my optometrist) bought a thing called a facial sauna which is a very weird contraption but does work extremely quickly.

pack my eye drops and also a peanut butter sandwich to eat in my new flat (why not) and go get the keys.

arrive at the flat. on inspection realise that the envelope i've been given seems to contain the most random assortment of loose keys. eventually identify an actual set of keys.

put my key in the lock of the flat door. abruptly hear a cat meowing, somewhere very close by.

previous owner had cats (plural) (i know this bcos i saw them when i was viewing the place). have a sudden moment of panic that i've somehow wildly misunderstood the whole situation and that she and her cats are still in residence.

look down. there is a very large, very fluffy white cat standing next to me, looking up at me as if expecting to be let in.

'you can't come in. this is my house.'

make my first mistake: think that if i open the door i will be able to prevent the cat from entering.

cat goes straight on into my flat.

i'm now pursuing the cat from room to room saying 'hey! hey you can't be in here! this is my house!'. the cat doesn't give a shit for obvious reasons (it is a cat)

i might have considered just shooing the cat outside and shutting the door but have arrived at an IMO not unreasonable concern. cat seemed very determined to enter this flat in particular and is now roaming around as if looking for something. previous owner had multiple cats and moved out AFAIK today. i have heard stories about people accidentally leaving cats behind when they move.

at this point it's 4:55 on a Friday. call my solicitor and explain the situation. ask if she could pass on a message to the seller's solicitor. unfortunately they have already closed for the week so it will have to wait till Monday but she will do her best.

decide the next course of action is to see if the cat has any ID. the cat is wearing a harness & collar so might have a tag with an address. make my second mistake: pick the cat up.

the cat does not have any ID on the harness. the cat does NOT like being picked up. cat gets very squirmy and then begins scratching me. cat manages to break my skin through a hoodie.

i put the cat down. the cat hisses at me. this is very rude considering that it is in my house.

head across the landing to see if the people opposite are missing a cat or, failing that, know their neighbours well enough to recognise the cat. there's no answer.

however!! i hear a voice down in the stairwell that sounds like it could be someone calling out a cat's name. 'hi!! is someone down there looking for a cat?' no answer.

look down the stairwell. on the ground floor there is a very large fluffy brown cat wearing a harness. !!!!! that is my cat's friend!

retrieve the cat from my flat (fortunately it just follows me out) and head downstairs. am met partway up by the cat's owner.

'oh thank god is this your cat'. it is her cat. apparently she had opened her front door to let them out into the garden and it had wandered off. 'i just moved in today it came into my flat'.

she is very apologetic. cat is unrepetent.

go back inside. call my solicitor's office. 'hi was it you i spoke to just now about the cat' (I told 2 people about the cat) 'no i just answered the phone because it was ringing. what cat.' 'can you tell *solicitor's name* that i have found the cat's owner. she will know what you mean'.

problem solved!! time to eat my peanut butter sandwich. :)

[gyummigon]

watch him burn, let him die | part I

werewolf!beomgyu x hunter!reader

synopsis: in a world where werewolves and humans coexist in a fragile peace, Beomgyu, a werewolf, is drawn to you, a hunter of supernatural creatures. ୨୧ word account: 2.3k ୨୧ genre: fantasy, romance, strangers to lovers, angust, soulmate. ୨୧ warnings: suggestive thoughts, violence, weapons, threat of death. ୨୧ note: i'll probably open a taglist, if you're interested, leave me a question or comment and I'll add you.

"The way you flirt is embarrassing," you spat from inside your motorcycle helmet, the tinted visor and lack of light making it impossible to see any trace of your identity other than the petite silhouette of your body and the dangerous barrel of your gun.

Beomgyu suppressed a grimace, he had been told the same thing... how many? once? twice? three times? Now he knew that his mother was right when she told him that being so flirtatious would lead to his downfall.

Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind (not to defend himself, but to reinforce the sabotaging behavior and express his absolute approval and pleasure in badmouthing himself), but with a gun pointed at his head, he could hardly give his voice enough stability to say anything coherent. Oh... his dear mother must be turning in her grave with laughter; even he felt like laughing at himself, but he suppressed any hint of a smile that might further endanger his life and looked at you with a kind of quiet desperation. He was an unlucky guy, no doubt. Rough girls always brought out the worst in him.

"Not so talkative now, are you?" There was no mockery or sarcasm in your voice, and Beomgyu almost wet his pants when you brought the gun close enough to feel the cold of the stainless steel against his skin.

"Why so much abuse, sweetheart?" he muttered, trying to look away with a pout on his lips. "If you didn't want to come here with me, you should have just said no. You're humiliating me and making me uncomfortable for nothing. Maybe if..."

Intending to take away his chance to keep talking, you elbowed him in the ribs and Beomgyu immediately shut up, forcing his lungs to catch their breath. "Ouch... Bitch, that... hurt."

"What am I supposed to do when you talk out of turn?"

Beomgyu closed his eyes and shrugged with his most dying expression. In the dark solitude of the parking lot and the palpable tension, your figure remained unperturbed, sheltered behind the motorcycle helmet and the deadly weapon you held. He had seen you hold a gun many times, but that night was the first time you threatened his life with one. God, how he wanted you.

The encounter had not been a coincidence. It wasn't the first night he'd followed the trail of your motorcycle and the addictive sweetness of your scent. Hell, it was becoming a crazy habit. Something about you appealed to him, which was why he had dared to approach you a few minutes ago, when you had made that stop for fuel at three in the morning, alone and unprepared. The two of you alone, face to face, he would have sworn that you made other parts of his body besides his heart beat with intensity. But when he invited you to join him in a more private place, and you dragged him into a dark alley, it was not exactly the outcome he had been expecting.

"What?" Your voice broke the sudden silence and made Beomgyu sigh.

"Nothing, your razor-sharp gun intimidates me," he smiled weakly. "Could you at least uncover your face and lower the gun to my neck? With the gun at my neck and your beautiful face in my face, I can tell if you're smiling at me or if you're about to shoot."

"Are you making fun of me?" you asked, and with a mixture of fear and sincerity, Beomgyu tried to explain, "Yes, I'm sorry. It's just that you make me nervous."

"I am not here for you to make me laugh at you. Your pack is not around to save your weak hide, I have no problem shooting you" you declared. You had a tough temper, he didn't doubt you or the certainty with which your fingers curled around the grip of your pistol.

"Why did you leave your territory?"

That was the question Beomgyu had been waiting for. A novice hunter might not have even realized that he didn't naturally belong in that place, with the humans, but you weren't just any hunter, you were experienced; despite being mortal, you had an innate knowledge of the supernatural world and survival instincts that, used in an appropriate manner, reached levels similar to those of a non-human creature. He had seen some of that, your body in action, the power of your weapons and the control you had over them... But he had also seen your other side, in the periodic visits the hunters made to his village, always watching you from behind a tree as you negotiated and secured peace treaties with his pack. He saw a woman of character, reasonable and firm, a leader.

"Those were orders."

"From whom?"

"Soobin. With rumors of a clan of vampires running amok on the outskirts of town... we must be on our guard."

He heard you let out a strange laugh, but instead of laughing with you, he did his best to keep a serious expression on his face. The pain of your blow to his ribs was still fresh in his mind, and the fact that your laugh sounded so sexy didn't help.

"He sends you alone, into hunter territory? As if you could do anything if a vampire got in your way," you scoffed, a little incredulous at the situation. "God, I shouldn't even be surprised. Stupid werewolves. Tell Soobin if he ever sends one of his dogs to stick its nose in my stuff again, I'll..."

A roll of his eyes interrupted you, "Sure, I'll be glad to pass on your kind words to him. Can you..." he hesitated for a second. "Can you put your gun away now?"

You fluttered your eyelashes and looked at him wordlessly, as if you were debating whether to put a hole in his skull or just let him go. Beomgyu still couldn't see your face, but he could perfectly imagine you thinking under the helmet, with your full lips between your teeth and that hard stare that almost made his legs tremble. The image itself was enough to disorient him, barely making him aware of the choice you had made. You took two firm steps back and he, expectant and nervous, almost knelt down and kissed your boots when you finally lowered your pistol and lifted your helmet visor to reveal your eyes.

With a dramatic expression, he placed a hand on his chest and leaned back against the wall to keep his balance and catch his breath. "Wow..."

"Usually guys like gun games."

"I don't know, when I was little I just played spin the top."

He caught your eyes glancing sideways at him as you tucked your gun into your belt holster. A silly grin spread across his face at your blank expression and, to his satisfaction, lack of contempt, but it faded the moment you turned your back and began to walk away from him. "I don't want to see you here again."

Beomgyu separated his back from the wall with a jump and licked his lips in anticipation. "About the vampires..."

"Go home."

"There are hatchlings at home," Beomgyu took quick steps to catch up with you and stepped in your way to meet your gaze. "It's the end of the year, so many lycanthropes that have reached sufficient maturity have left the territory and probably won't return if they manage to mate. Most of our other lycans are still puppies and our alpha female is pregnant, so we are in a very vulnerable and dangerous position, even if we are talking about a single vampire."

Your look remained impatient and bored.

"What about your Alpha, is he as weak as you?"

A spark of embarrassment flashed in Beomgyu's eyes, but it didn't last long. "No, smartass, Soobin is skilled and influential, he's very intelligent, patient and... Well, those are the qualities that made him a leader, but..."

"But he got where he is by fighting battles he didn't win. He hides behind a wall of ass-kissing wolves." You crossed your arms with a smug expression. "He's a weakling."

If you hadn't looked so pretty in the light of the street lamps, with that ridiculously large helmet on your petite body and the outline of your breasts marked by the pressure of your arms underneath them, Beomgyu was sure he wouldn't have bothered to sound kind.

"Honey, a good Alpha is not the brute who has the physical strength to kill or win a fight," a snort came from your mouth at the nickname, making him smile, "but the one who has the ability to listen and earn the loyalty and respect of the pack."

"If your Alpha is so capable, what are you worried about?"

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment before answering. "No wolf, especially an Alpha, will hesitate to give priority to his litter."

"And you want...?"

I want to live, he thought, unable to get the words out of the back of his mind. Even if his pack meant everything to him, there was no one with whom he shared a blood bond or a bond other than that of unconditional loyalty. He couldn't shake that feeling of not belonging, that made him feel like he was no one, just a burden, condemned to serve and give his life for belonging. He wanted to be a priority.

"I want the assurance that no group of vampires will invade my home tonight or the next few nights," he replied with a firm slowness.

"It's not like vampires are interested in the lives of useless wolves like you."

"That… that wasn't very nice of you." Beomgyu grimaced and looked at you with growing frustration on his face. "I'm a hunter by nature, if there's one thing I can smell, it's approaching danger."

Your long and sudden silence confirmed Beomgyu's suspicion: something was wrong. He had noticed it during his last visits to your territory, people who exuded fear and anxiety, the smell of fresh blood and gunpowder in the air that could not pass unnoticed, lights that never went out to prevent the darkness from spreading; even at this very moment, you were alert and hunting.

"They're already here, aren't they?" The question sounded more frightened than Beomgyu would have liked to admit, but even with the neutrality of your expression, your lack of response spoke volumes. "And if it was just one, you would have taken care of it by now, how many are there? Look, we don't have weapons, we don't need them, if only..."

"I don't ally with wolves," your answer was so simple and short that he didn't know what to say or how to react.

"But..."

"And wolves don't ally with humans."

"To be more precise, I'm a lycanthrope," he muttered with an irritated expression that made you snort. 

"I'm sure your wolf pack doesn't know you're here, do they? What will happen when they find out that you're violating one of the most important rules that keep the peace between the two species? Will your Alpha be willing to pay for your treachery with your life?" 

"You're talking about your rules," Beomgyu's answer was dry. Like a scolded dog, his eyes dropped until they were fixed on the ground, but not for long. When he raised his face again, his eyes seemed more angry than concerned. "What I do is for them. There's nothing treacherous about it. Nor in being here. It's my job, my duty."

"Your duty is to die for them" A sneer crossed your face as you spoke and Beomgyu felt you looked at him as if he were an unbearable fly in the middle of the night, like an insect waking you from sleep in the middle of a perfect sleep cycle. "You know the truth of the alliance between our species, which allows us to live apart, to have peace and security. The agreement has the terms it has for a reason. It is not an agreement about power or domination, but about respect and the logic of survival. What you are doing is an act of treason and war."

"It's not treason if you say nothing...," Beomgyu said, speaking more to himself than to you.

"Leave this ground. I must not tell you why. I must have no reason. Just go." Your gaze became hard as you looked at him from head to toe. "Vampires are vampires, it takes more than a pair of claws or fangs to get rid of them. A weak body puts you at a disadvantage, but a foolish mind is guaranteed defeat."

You put your hand on his shoulder and pushed him out of the way with a firm motion. For some reason, when Beomgyu felt your cold touch, the word vampire and his intense hatred for them resonated in his mind. "Want some advice? You help more if you don't get in the way." 

Beomgyu stared at your silhouette, helpless at your refusal. Your head was already turned when you took a step out of his reach. He didn't dare to take another step towards you, as if your words still echoing in his head were an obstacle. 

He sighed in defeat as he watched you get on your motorcycle. The tension in the alley faded with each roar of the engine as you rode away. He stood for a few minutes, taking in the situation, before making his own way, thinking that if Soobin found out everything that had happened that night, he wouldn't even have the physical ability to move an inch away from your territory.

The only thing he was supposed to do that night and the nights after was to watch you from a distance. But Beomgyu never learned to take the easy way out.

© gyummigon | all rights reserved. copying or adaptation prohibited

[lurkingshan]

Goodbye Cooking Crush

Aw man, I am so sad this wonderful little show is over. It delivered everything I needed and held up all the way through its run. Everything came together in this finale for some great final payoffs, and the characters stayed true. When we were watching the finale I said to @neuroticbookworm and @twig-tea that this show is writing porn, because all of the narrative threads build and converge in such a satisfying way. I posted a couple weeks ago that this show is exactly what you want from a good romcom, and I stand by it. Great outing for OffGun and a very rewarding show that I will surely be rewatching many times.

As expected, this week delivered a solid, nuanced ending for Ten's family conflict. I loved the way Ten sat Prem down at the family table, took the chair opposite his father at the other end of the table in a clear power move, and told him in no uncertain terms that Prem was his boyfriend and he had to accept it. And his dad did not have a sudden personality transplant; he pushed back and challenged Prem to prove his integrity. It made sense to me that Prem wanted to pay that money back; the money scam from the beginning of their relationship has been weighing on him the whole time, and he doesn't want any shred of doubt lingering over his relationship with his in-laws. My favorite part of that whole sequence was Prem's grandma finally finding out about the money and getting out her switch; this was never Prem's burden to bear alone and I'm glad he learned his lesson about not asking for help.

So Ten's dad was forced to accept Prem when he came through on his promise, and he even offered a classic Asian parent version of an apology by coming to Prem's restaurant to acknowledge him, which is more than I expected from him. My favorite thing about that final scene at the restaurant is that Ten's dad hasn't really changed and he and Ten are not suddenly getting along; their conversation was still adversarial even as he finally explained a couple things, and in the end he was left to eat at the table alone. No unearned parental 180 here. They are not suddenly a big happy family, but they've settled on a detente everyone can live with. It feels right.

And in another family drama, Fire finally found the courage to tell his mother how much she has hurt him, and after an initial rejection, she realized she didn't want to lose Fire and offered him acceptance. I would have liked a bit more breathing room in this plot because her turn felt a little too easy, but it's a side story so I get that they were time constrained. It was nice to see Fire finally stand up for her, and Dynamite begrudgingly accepted into the family. I liked that Dy's family didn't magically appear; not all families will accept their queer children, and that is the reality he has to live with. But it must have felt somewhat healing to see that happen for Fire and know he was a big part of giving Fire the courage to finally come out.

Meanwhile, the Three Must-Eat-Ers lost the cooking competition but won the hearts of many with the touching story of their final dish, and built careers bolstered by their show fandom. I was so pleased to get the flash forward to show us that Prem did get to open his chef's table restaurant, with Ten's full support (and with rings of some sort on, not sure if they're engaged or married but they are definitely committed). It was the very sweet cherry on top of the ice cream sundae of their romance. Ten and Prem, Communication Kings, are going down as one of my all-time favorite bl couples.

I am agnostic on the final Samsee/Pang reveal, given my hopes for a Samsee/Metha pairing. I'm not mad at the show for not going there--it would definitely have been pairing the spares to put Samsee and Metha together, which I generally do not go in for--and am mostly happy that Samsee found love and Metha is still part of the gang. I would have also loved to see those bullies get some comeuppance, but honestly, bullies often win, and it didn't feel like a true loss for our boys so I'm good with it. This was a solid finale for a feel good show and I will miss it dearly.

[cementarybf]

The woods brothers.

" A duet never played ."

(A series of my headcanons for both the brothers except its not in order AT ALL)

• I was originally just gonna copy and paste my docs of them for this I'm ngl..

• Between the two jeff is the youngest, being three years apart from the older.

• Jeff's a bastard child within the woods family, as his mother committed infidelity making him a foreign mixed child in his home environment (his mother being Chinese, his biological father being Hispanic)

• Liu had been more than excited to be a big brother, even if his mother was less than excited. He would cuddle up with her, mostly to whisper to her belly about how excited he was to be a big brother and that he loved his little sibling already.

• jeff is actually trans his dead name being (junjíe俊傑 meaning elite,high standing) a name he actually prided himself on, but when they moved to Ohio (WHICH ACTUALLY IS CANON?? WHY IS HE IN OHIO) he wanted to be more..Americanized, mainly due to the bullying he suffered for keeping a foreign name- teachers struggling to pronounce it made him disgusted so he chose a simpler name one that they couldn't make fun of.

• jeff was never deemed as "normal", growing up he struggled to behave like other children- diagnosed at an early age with [ narcissistic personality disorder ] and [ early stage child apathy ] which stemmed from a series of neglect given from his parents along with the strict religious household.

• due to this liu had taken up the role of raising his younger brother without much issue, due to taking up the parental role his own view on his parents had easily soured over time when he had gotten into multiple arguments with them.

• liu and jeff were pratically attatched at the hip mostly due to jeff seemingly mimicking his brothers behavior as to appear more friendly to his peers which in the end worked, as he was quite liked in his schools.

• liu had originally been the only one in the family to play piano but jeff followed suit easily only for a moment before he took up learning violin instead as he found it be more suiting. A perfect duet they had made.

• they originally had lived in shenzen before moving to Ohio due to their father getting a job relocation out there (hence jeffs sudden urge to fit ih)

• jeff never actually told his parents he was transitioning due to his mother's heavy religious belief, he'd rather let her believe he was being a "tomboy" then tell her.

• jeff and liu had done multiple recitals together once jeff finally got to understand how to perfectly play the piano. However they never did get to finish their duet that they written themselves.

• liu was the only person he told, along with the one he had asked to cut his hair. He hasn't cut his hair nor let anyone else cut his hair since that night due to the fact he doesn't know how to and is more afraid he'd mess it up (we gotta go bald moment).

• liu was NOT sent to a jail when he took the blame for jeff but instead a boarding school for troubled youth where he may or may have not discovered he may have been bisexual.

• after dying and being revived by a mortician [SUSAN] who was all too curious about death, he met [BALAAM (SULLY)] who had used his jiangshi state against him and encouraged him to eat the woman so she could have her soul.

• after trading a part of his soul and entering a contract with [BALAAM(SULLY] his memory is EXTREMELY bad, similar to a goldfish he's constantly forgetting things and doesn't actually remember how he died outside of the autopsy report. He doesn't remember jeff but he knows he had a brother and that he needs to find him. Even in death he still needs to take the role of worrying for him.

• jeff cannot stand hearing classical music or anything with piano, due to it reminding him of liu and how guilty he is.

• jeff once tried to play violin again but due to his nerves being so badly damaged and the face he was missing his finger on one hand he couldn't play it perfectly, it caused him to have a melt down and he in rage he smashed it to pieces.

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (7)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: smut, fingering, religious guilt, fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_______

Aemond was waiting for the young Lady Stark, accompanied by her parents and her brother. They were shocked by his unannounced arrival. He was surprised himself, but he couldn't wait any longer.

Not being able to see her and not having any contact with her was driving him crazy. His mother didn't like the idea, but he did as he wanted anyway. He felt he had the right to travel with his betrothed on Vhagar's back.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw her enter the room. He was relieved to see her eyes light up at the sight of him, her lips pursed, a wide smile suppressed. She was happy to see him. He looked at her gently and bowed. He was standing in his long leather coat, which he wore when flying on Vhagar.

"My Lady." He said warmly, even though his face was stone, he couldn't hide the excitement and desire that was painted in his gaze, not escaping the attention of neither Y/N nor the other gathered.

"My prince." She said softly, bowing, her face shining like the sun. She stopped beside her parents, but he knew that, like him, she was dying deep down to touch him. "What brings you here?" She asked politely, though he suspected she already knew why he had come.

"I want you to fly with me on dragonback to Kings Landing tomorrow, for my brother's wedding." He spoke calmly, his voice flat and confident. "Your things can arrive later, my sister will lend you everything you need."

Y/N looked uncertainly at her parents, looking for approval or disapproval in their eyes. Lord Stark was clearly uneasy at the idea. He cleared his throat.

"Is it safe, my prince?" He asked uncertainly. Aemond looked at him with a slight grimace that could have been a smile.

"Certainly more than traveling the royal trails in carriages, where at any moment someone can attack you." He said after a moment's hesitation. Lord Stark looked at his wife, but she just shrugged. Lord Stark sighed softly.

"Let be it."

***

Aemond had great difficulty concentrating during the feast. He tried to listen to what Lord Rickon Stark was saying to him and make some meaningful sentences in response, but the presence of the young Lady Stark sitting next to him made him think only of touching her.

As soon as they sat down next to each other, they grabbed their hands under the table and clenched them tightly, as if to show each other with this gesture how much they missed each other. Aemond wouldn't let her go again, intertwining their fingers, placing their intertwined hands on her armrest. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

Even though their hands were covered by the table, everyone in the household saw what was happening. Y/N stared at her plate, embarrassed, unable to control the joy and disbelief on her face that he was sitting next to her. What's more, it seemed like he still wanted her.

As soon as she saw him, she thought with delight that she did not wonder why she wanted him so easily. In his leather coat and eye patch, he looked even more handsome and dangerous than ever. She wanted to tell him that she could fly with him even today, but she didn't want to humiliate herself in front of herself and her family.

Dinner passed pleasantly and calmly, her parents after a momentary shock accepted the slight change of plans with sympathy, somehow pleased that the prince apparently thought seriously about their daughter and his sudden proposal during the hunt was not just his whim. Aemond was assigned his chamber for one night, the same one he had occupied when he had been with his family in Winterfell a month earlier.

As everyone was saying goodbye and going to sleep, Aemond felt the young Lady Stark slip something into his pocket. He gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head and, to his despair, disappeared down the hall, heading for her chamber.

Aemond took out a piece of paper, which she only tossed him when he entered his chamber. He didn't want anyone to suspect anything. He saw that it was a kind of map, leading to some room by the crypts.

Aemond swallowed softly and felt a hardness in his pants at the thought, that she probably wanted to see him alone. He knew himself and her well enough to know that neither of them would be able to keep their hands to themselves.

Heart pounding, he stepped out into the corridor, looking around. The guards stood and talked on the opposite side of the map. Most likely, Y/N knew they were going to put someone to watch over them. He moved silently ahead, turned behind the entrance to the crypts, but instead of going down, he ran up.

He entered what he thought was a servants' room, now completely empty. He closed the door behind him and waited, he wasn't sure he'd ever been so turned on in his life. He looked darkly at the bed next to him and swallowed softly. He wondered if it would squeak a lot if he took her on it now.

He flinched as he heard the soft creaking of the door. Y/N came in quickly and closed them behind her, shaking. She was wearing the same nightgown as when he had come down to the crypts with her. Her hair was loose. He stared at her in disbelief.

For the past month, that had been all he had dreamed of. It was hard for him to pray with his mother in Sept because of the shame that almost every night, before going to bed, he would cum on his hand thinking about her, about her breasts he touched, about what she looked like when an orgasm went through her body.

He swallowed softly and took one step towards her. Y/N looked at him with big eyes, full of fear and desire. He thought she looked painfully innocent. He knew at that moment that even if he was going to cry from despair, he couldn't take her all now.

Despite the pleasure here and now, he could not allow any maester to question her virginity, and therefore her right to marry the prince. He pursed his lips at the thought, his gaze roaming over her body, which was barely visible through the thin material of her nightgowns. He took another step towards her. Her mouth parted slightly, her lower lip quivered.

He reached out to touch her cheek. It was soft and warm, just as he remembered. He exhaled softly as he saw her immediately burrow her face into his hand, pressing it closer with her own fingers. The sight made him feel his cock throbbing painfully in his pants.

He pulled her close, a moan lodged in her mouth as he threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her greedily, deeply. She kissed back with a fervor that surprised him. They kissed like crazy, their hands touching their faces, necks, hairs, pressing them against each other.

They would break apart once in a while to catch their breath, and then start kissing again, as if they knew they had little time, that they had to take as much as they could now.

Aemond undid the tie of her outer dress, and she moaned softly as he slid it from her shoulders. She was left in only a nightgown. Aemond grabbed her and laid her on the bed. They both breathed loudly, feeling that they were in a very sensual, exciting position.

Lady Stark reached into the buckle of his jacket and began to undo them quickly, one at a time. Aemond took off his jacket, but to her surprise, he also took off his shirt, revealing himself bare-chested.

She blushed at the sight, seeing how well built he was. She could see how much he practiced, how much work he put into being such a good fighter. She had never seen anyone fight her brother as easily as he did. She swallowed hard at the thought that he was soon to be her husband.

He leaned over her with a misty look, placing his hands on either side of her head. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her breathing ragged. She felt the sticky liquid drip down her thighs onto the sheets beneath her, her nipples hardened at the sight.

All that was left on his naked torso was a tiny chain with a seven-pointed star. She wondered what his Seven Gods would say about what they were doing now.

He didn't seem to think about it, though, because he leaned over her and slipped his tongue between her lips. She moaned hollowly, feeling its rough and sticky texture, letting him caress her.

She clenched her thighs, feeling the tension building up there, searching for any source of pressure. She sucked in a breath as Aemond lowered himself onto her and began to rub the bulge in his pants against the fabric between her thighs.

She ran her hands into his hair, pulling him closer. He moaned softly into her throat as he felt her hips start responding to his rhythm, rubbing against him, both panting.

Aemond shivered immensely and opened his mouth in pleasure as he felt her tongue touch his in a shameless kiss. They both caressed each other for a moment, not believing what they were doing. How bad it was made them even more excited.

Y/N, all hot with desire and lust, slid her nightgown off her shoulders, slightly exposing her breasts. Aemond froze at the sight, gasping for air. She looked at him as no other woman had ever looked at him before. She threaded her hand through his hair and pulled him to her, their tongues touching again, his necklace lying between her breasts.

"What would your Seven Gods say about how you treat their sacred mark?" She asked softly, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. They both moaned helplessly, rubbing against each other harder. Aemond broke away from her and looked at her, his gaze completely dark.

"Stop it, if you want to keep your virginity until our wedding." He blurted out through clenched teeth, wanting to enter her and fuck her for the slight smile that appeared on her face. All he wanted now was to just put his cock inside her, to feel how tight, warm and wet she was.

While in Kings Landing, he read a lot of books on how men could please women. Aemond wasn't stupid enough to think that every woman acted like a prostitute who knew all the secrets of physical love.

He knew that young Lady Stark was inexperienced and that if he tried to take her too quickly, he would cause her pain. He was embarrassed and excited to read about how men pleased their women with their mouths or even their hands, and all they had to do was find the right spot for a woman to cum before their eyes.

He saw it himself in the tent, when she came before him. That meant she'd done it before and knew what would please her. He decided to use it.

He spun around with her suddenly so that they were lying sideways, facing each other. Aemond slid her leg over his thigh, then grabbed her hair and pulled her to him, kissing her lustfully. His tongue was caressing the palate of her, his long fingers finding her bare breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. Just like then, the touch sent shivers of pleasure through her.

Aemond thought what they were doing was not behaving like a prince, loyal follower of the Seven and a Lady, but he couldn't help it. He was helpless against her. He pressed her back against him, Y/N moaned as she felt the cool locket against her hot chest.

She thought he was doing it on purpose, that the idea that the symbol of his faith was used so shamelessly turned him on as much as it did her. She thought that once she was his wife, she would give herself to him in Sept, in front of his Gods, to his and her despair.

She moaned softly as she felt his hand on her bare thigh. His fingers moved up to her buttocks and squeezed them lightly. She sighed, feeling the bulge in his pants rubbing against her, hard and throbbing.

"Lead my hand." He whispered softly into her mouth in a trembling, low tone. "Touch yourself as you did when we were on hunting."

Lady Stark looked at him wide-eyed, her cheeks blushing. She parted her lips slightly, taking his hand in hers. They both shivered as she pushed it deep into her thighs, Aemond sucking in a quick breath, feeling the moisture dripping off her. He knew what that meant, and he felt his manhood throbbing hard, demanding her attention.

They both moaned loudly as she guided his fingers to brush against her clit, catching her wet entrance. Her whole body trembled, Aemond breathing raggedly as he stared at his hand between her thighs.

"Here." She whispered, his fingers rubbing the skin around the slight lump. She moaned as he squeezed her a little tighter. "And a little lower, right here." She said, guiding his hand to the spot that was on the edge of her entrance, all damp and wet. Aemond moaned low at the sensation, massaging her exactly where she had shown him, and she moaned softly, moving her hips to the rhythm of his hand.

"Yes, just like that." She moaned softly, and Aemond kissed her, unable to resist the tension that pulsed through his lower abdomen. He shivered as he felt her hand touch the buldge on his pants.

She kissed him tenderly, massaging him, squeezing him a bit, flinching at his throaty groan. She wasn't sure she'd experienced anything more wonderful in her life.

"Can I touch you there?" She asked quietly. "Will you show me how you did it?" She asked, all red and determined, there was no trace of any shame left in her eyes. They both knew that if they didn't come, they wouldn't sleep that night. Aemond swallowed hard, looking at her confidently, pain in his eye.

"Yes." He whispered, all the while massaging her with one hand, guiding her tiny hand inside his pants with the other. They moaned into each other's mouths as she touched him, blushing as she felt how hard she made him.

"Does it hurt?" She asked uncertainly, running her fingers over his skin, feeling the veins and tension all over his manhood, surprised to find that he was wet too. The touch of her fingers sent shivers through his body.

"No. Yes. Oh, Gods” He moaned throatily, taking her hand in his and squeezing it over his cock, motioning for her to move her hand up and down. He began to pant as she began to massage him steadily, pressing down surprisingly firmly.

"What would your father say if he saw you touching me like that, my Lady?" He asked with satisfaction. She frowned, squeezing him harder, pressing her breast tighter against his necklace.

"I don't know. You can ask him, after you cum on me, my prince." She said, and he moaned loudly in surprise. He forced his tongue into her mouth to shut her up, trying to stop the unholy words from coming out of her. She had no idea what had gotten into her, but she felt wonderful.

His hand massaged her wet cunt where she needed, with each movement of his fingertips she got closer to fulfillment. She moaned into his mouth as he slipped the tip of his finger into her entrance and caressed her, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

Encouraged by the shivering of her body and her moans, aroused by the feeling of her heat, he slid his finger inside her. They both held their breath, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"Do not stop." She whispered. He began to move his finger in and out, gasping loudly into her mouth as he felt her walls tighten around him, her juices flowing out of her. He imagined himself entering her, focusing on the wonderful touch of her soft hand on his cock.

"Faster." He mumbled pleadingly and she moaned, pressing him tighter, rubbing him up and down. Her hips moved up and down and he felt her tightening on his finger. After a moment she tilted her head back, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Oh, Gods, yes" She moaned loudly, feeling the strongest orgasm she'd ever experienced in her life wash over her in several, long waves, as she fell onto his finger, moaning softly. She heard his hollow, low moan and felt the wetness between her breasts.

Only after a while did she see that he came on her, his sperm flowing from between her breasts onto the sheets. They both stared at the sight as if hypnotized, breathing heavily. His hand was still between her thighs. Lady Stark reached for his seven-pointed star necklace. She turned it between her fingers covered with his semen, her eyes cloudy.

"May the Seven watch over us."

_____

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @namoreno @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please

[love-kurdt]

The Life of Us We Can't Get Back (byler): December 21, 1990

word count: 2,103

My father’s attitude was that this was but an inevitable phase of my growing up and he affected to take it lightly. But beneath his jocular, boys-together air, he was at a loss, he was frightened. Perhaps he had supposed that my growing up would bring us closer together— whereas now that he was trying to find out something about me, I was in full flight from him. I did not want him to know me. I did not want anyone to know me. And then, again, I was undergoing with my father what the very young inevitably undergo with their elders: I was beginning to judge him. And the very harshness of this judgment, which broke my heart, revealed, though I could not have said it then, how much I had loved him, how that love, along with my innocence, was dying.

The screams of the tea kettle startled me out of my place in “Giovanni’s Room,” by James Baldwin. I hadn’t gotten very far— I was only on page sixteen— but was already beginning to relate to the tortured yet compelling musings of the protagonist, David. I had already found and ended things with my “Hella,”— multiple Hellas— and my “Giovanni,” was out, working at the local coffee shop. The coffee shop where he still worked with his ex-boyfriend, Matt Winters. According to Will, their most recent breakup was mutual, but they were still friendly with one another, which… if I was being totally honest, bothered me just a little bit. Although, I’d be a total hypocrite if I were to ask Will to distance himself from Matt, because I still considered Wyatt Bowman to be one of my best friends. In fact, he was the first person I called when Will and I got together. I was pretty sure I’d called Wyatt from the foot of the bed, being sure to whisper the news quietly while Will slept.

The tea kettle obviously wasn’t going to stop on its own, so I stuck the dilapidated post-it with Will’s phone number in Joyce’s handwriting on the page I was reading and sat up from my position on the couch. I shuffled over to the stove on the balls of my fuzzy sock-covered feet (I wasn’t actually sure if the fuzzy socks I wore belonged to me or to Will), and removed the pot from the scorching surface. I grabbed a mug and a tea bag from the cupboard that I’d grown to become quite familiar with over the past week, dunking it in a few times in hopes that the tea would steep. I got a spoon from the drawer beside me and pushed the bag against the edge of the mug.

Everything was moving at either turtle or lightning speed these days. I could blame myself for that. I made the decision to drive to Chicago in seconds, Will and I reconciled and proceeded to have sex multiple times within the span of an hour of arriving at his house, and now… I was getting unnecessarily worked up over making my tea steep faster. Why the hell was I so anxious all of a sudden?

I knew damn well where my anxiety had come from; I’d been procrastinating calling my mother for days. I’d promised to let her know about my plans for Christmas, but never gathered enough courage to pick up the phone. For all I knew, she’d been calling my apartment back in Indianapolis the whole time I’d been gone. But I knew calling her would come with a plethora of problems, the first one being having to break the news that I’d failed out of college. The second one took root in the fact that I was currently staying in a different apartment (different from the one my dad had been shelling out money towards), not to mention an entirely different state, and with Will. And the third… well, the third problem was that Will and I were dating now, so I wasn’t sure if Christmas was even on the table.

Of course, Will had been pushing me to call Mom all week, claiming that she would probably understand my multi-layered problems to an extent, but I knew (and told Will so) that our mothers were very different people, and that she wouldn’t understand. Not on the level that Joyce probably would, anyway. I checked the wall clock, reading 6:24pm. Will was due to come home around 6:30, which was when the two of us had planned to start packing our things to return to Hawkins. And that probably meant Will would bug me about calling my mom again, so… time to bite the bullet.

I headed into Will’s– our, I was still getting used to saying it– room, and sat down on the edge of the bed, glancing over at the nightstand. There it was. The Phone™. The phone that Will used when he– no. We were fine now. I was quite literally living with Will at the moment. Everything was great. So why did my heart pang with sadness every time I looked in the direction of Will’s phone? I decided I couldn’t think about this, not right now. I leaned over to pick up the phone, placing it next to me on the bed and dialing my parents’ phone number.

The line picked up within two rings. Classic.

“Wheeler residence, this is Karen!” I heard my mom say in the her usual cheerful tone, and I sucked in a breath.

“Hey, Mom,” I eventually exhaled, my shaky fingertips finding the cord on impulse and fiddling with the spirals.

“Michael? Is that you?” she sounded surprised. Shocked, even.

My heart sank with guilt. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.”

“Gosh, honey, I haven’t heard from you in so long!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I know you’re busy. How are you?” How was I? That was a simple question with a very complicated answer. I’d been doing better than I had in the past year and a half, and it was all because Will loved me. But I couldn’t tell her that. Not over the phone.

“Good, I’m good,” I kept it vague, “I just wanted to check in, let you know that I’m still alive and all.” After driving drunk across state lines and having a near-death experience involving a tractor trailer and "Should I Stay or Should I Go," by The Clash.

“Well, that's a relief! I’ve been— we’ve all been worried about you.” Meaning… she was worried about me. I wished she didn’t feel the need to give me hope that my dad might actually care about my well-being. “Are you doing alright in school?”

“That’s something I wanted to talk about over… over Christmas, if you’ll still have me,” I replied, my voice trembling a little too much for my liking. Too emotional.

“Of course!” Mom told me, and I bit my lip to prevent it from quivering. “Michael, you are always welcome back home. I thought you knew that.”

“No, I know,” I shook my head, gripping the phone tighter. “Just… it’s a long story. But I was also wondering if I could bring a guest this year?” There. I said it. Kind of.

“A guest?” I could hear the excitement creep into her voice, and I shut my eyes tightly. “Things must be going really well if you’re coming home with a girlfriend!” Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Fuck.

“… Haha, yeah, it’s going great,” I suddenly wanted this conversation to be over and done with so I could let the guilt eat me alive in peace. “Uh, so, I’ll see you on…” I trailed off.

“You can come home as early as you want and stay for as long as you need,” she told me. “Believe it or not, we actually miss you around here. It’s… quiet.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “I miss you too. So… is tomorrow okay? Me and…” Fuck, I forgot it was Will I was bringing home with me. Think fast, Wheeler– “We wanted to make the drive a little earlier before the real holiday traffic hits.”

“Whatever works best for you, hon! I’ve gotta head to book club, but please tell Mystery Girl that we can’t wait to meet her!” Right. Mystery Girl. Mystery Will. Jesus Christ, this was going to end horribly, wasn’t it?

“Okay…! See you soon, then. Love you.”

“I love you too, Michael,” Mom said softly, and I knew that she really meant it.

“Bye.”

“Was that who I think it was?” I heard from behind me, and I turned to see Will standing in the doorway with two cups of coffee in his hands. Bless him. I set the phone back on the surface of the nightstand and shifted over a bit, patting the space next to me. Will smiled, taking a few steps to cross the room and set the coffees down next to the phone. He turned to me and held my face in his hands, his thumbs running against my cheekbones. I cast my gaze off to the side as I muttered, “If you mean my mother, then… yeah.”

Will sat next to me then, a lighthearted laugh leaving his gorgeous mouth. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. His laugh. His fucking laugh. How was I supposed to function when he laughed like that? And how the hell did I go so long without it? “Really?” he teased. “You’re not messing with me? You actually took my suggestion, for once?”

I smirked, reaching up to brush a piece of overgrown hair out of my boyfriend’s eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head, Byers. I called her and told her we’re coming for Christmas.”

Will’s eyes went wide at that. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“Well, no,” I admitted. “I wanted to.” I reached out to hold Will’s hand in a feeble attempt to convince him that I wasn’t being a coward, that I was just… fucking terrified of the idea of coming out to my parents. “Believe me, love, I wanted to. But… I couldn’t. I just told her I was bringing someone home.” I looked down at the ground, unable to bring myself to look at Will.

“I totally understand, it’s a big step!” he exclaimed, bringing a hand up to my jaw and lifting my face up so our eyes met. “C’mere.”

Will wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close, and I let out a deep sigh as I leaned into his touch, bending my torso at a strange angle in order for my head to meet his shoulder; uncomfortable, but did the job. “It’s going to work out,” he reassured me. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”

“To pick up the pieces after everything goes to shit,” I said under my breath, and I felt Will’s hand begin to rub slow circles up and down my back.

“Don’t think like that, baby. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t deserve you, Will,” I sighed, and I felt the low rumble of Will’s voice in his chest as he disagreed. This had become a common occurrence throughout the past week: I’d tell him that I didn’t deserve him, and he’d remind me–

“Yes, you do.”

“God,” I rubbed my palms across my face in frustration, “What’s gonna happen when they open the door and see us together? What are they gonna think? Or what if I… I don’t know, chicken out and make up some elaborate lie like… trying to bring back our Chrismukkah tradition or some shit?”

“You wouldn’t be wrong. I’ve kinda missed Chrismukkah,” Will chuckled. I silently envied his optimism. I wished it was that easy.

“Me, too.”

Will grabbed my hand then, interlacing our fingers, and it suddenly felt like the world wasn’t going to implode. “We’ll have to make up for lost time.”

I nodded, gulping far too loudly. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence followed, and my eyes trailed up from our joined hands to his lips. His lips that were saying all the right things. The lips that were actively talking me off the ledge. The lips that I wanted to kiss right off his perfect face.

“Hey, Will?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

“Kiss me?”

And he did. He did kiss me. In an instant, all of my worries floated into the recesses of my mind to be dealt with later. I busied myself with the feeling of Will’s lips coaxing my mouth open, falling down onto the mattress, and letting my boyfriend hold me, take me apart, and put me back together, piece by piece.

-

next part

homepage

[nekodere07]

Grian being a naturally born half Watcher and Grianpop HC AU

This was my take on Shadverse’s Grianpop AU, which is basically Grian’s dad who’s the first Watcher

This is also accessible on AO3 already!

Grian has always been an awkward boy. He distances himself from the kids his age and watch them from afar, enjoying themselves while they run around the park looking dirty but the huge smiles on their faces tells him everything that they’re happy. But he’s not jealous. Not fully. One time, his mother asked how he was at school and he could only shrug casually like it didn’t concern him. School was weird, the classrooms were weird, the teachers were weird, and most of all, the kids were weird. Especially the kid that brought that stinky fish with him the whole time and the lanky one with bunny ears kept on hiding behind fish boy.

They talked to him, sure, but it didn’t mean they were friends. His mother kissed him by the forehead and leans forward to how warm and soft the touch is, listening to her gentle voice as she tells her about making friends and how they will accompany him when he’s lonely and help him grow to become a better person in the future. At first, he’s reluctant to do it but goes to follow wherever those two kids go and as time goes by, he kind of like the company.

There are times when Grian wakes up to two muffled voices yelling at each other from downstairs but drowns them with his pillow and goes back to sleep (at least try to), like it doesn’t concern him. Hopefully his two siblings aren’t awake from the room across (he knows they are but if he tries to go and comfort them, their parents will notice that he’s awake and mother might say mean things to him again—worse, she might hurt them this time). Hopefully Taurtis has a new fun story to tell him tomorrow to keep him awake and not fall asleep on class again.

The arguing gets worse as well as their mother’s attitude towards him. At least she’s still loving towards his two younger siblings. He ignores it and tries to convince himself that she’s just stressful from work. It’s nothing to be worried about. It’s not like his mother meant what she told him about being… It wasn’t true, right?

One day, his father called him to the living room and asks Grian to sit with him on the sofa. All of a sudden, his father’s heavy hand lands on his blonde hair and ruffles it gently as he smiles and tells him about meeting someone who will truly care for him and he should cherish them—be with those people and never betray them. He’s quite confused but he nods as he mirrors his father’s kind smile that for some reason, doesn’t quite reach his ears like it usually did. His father then stands and turn to walk towards the kitchen to cook for dinner.

Is it just him or father’s eyes glowed purple for a second or was it lighting messing up with him?

Grian should have said something about it. He should’ve said something about why his father’s signature cheeky grin didn’t feel quite right. He should’ve said something, anything!

That talk is the last time he would ever get to see his father again.

His mother sends him to Tokyo Soul a few weeks after his father apparently left and reunites with her boyfriend, which is his siblings’ biological father, since she’s apparently unable to support his financial needs and has to earn it himself. At least all he needs to pay was his living expenses and she still pays for his school so there wasn’t much of a problem.

Then Tokyo Soul, which is the name of the town he’s staying for the rest of his high school years, happened.

Because of his horrifying experience there, Grian learns how to survive like a soldier in the middle of enemy territory and pull the trigger without batting an eye. He’s not sure which is worse, almost dying from a car crash and getting shot by various people or being threatened with a knife multiple times by your own best friend. He’s not sure if he even wants to survive this long after that hellscape, to be honest. Does it even matter? Everything in his life is a lie. He followed every advice that his parents gave him, yet all he receives are pain and suffering.

Even after meeting new people from different worlds and co-founded one of the most famous fantasy worlds in the universe, he still feels empty inside. So, he says his goodbyes to his co-founders and friends, leaving that world behind and goes to a new one.

That’s when he meets the Evolutionists.

It’s like a big slap to the face but in a positive way.

Instead of expecting the same outcome with them, they destroyed his world and proves it to him that there is still hope in humanity. Even after isolating himself away from civilization and build his own empire, people still go out of their way to visit his base and pay their regards. They even compliment his build even though it’s not even that impressive. He’s always been told by his mother that his love of building was a waste of time and resources and should focus on something more practical.

When he accidentally told Martyn about it one time, suddenly he exploded and started an hour-long rant about how amazing Grian was. For some reason, his heart flutters and cheeks hurt, even now that he’s only reminiscing it, only to realize he’s smiling so much. Ever since then, every Evolutionist will come and compliment him. Some like Netty will bring him a present like a pot filled with a delicious meal.

At first, when he stumbled upon his siblings who are living with the rest of the Evolutionists, he was reluctant whether to interact with them since they might hate him for leaving them and not writing even a single letter, but they easily jumped to his arms and cried how much they missed him. That’s when he decided that he will hang out with them more and take care of them like a good brother this time.

Living with the Evolutionists is the happiest time he has ever been his whole life.

Until mysterious structures with bedrock and the Watchers appear, that is.

Everything crumbles right before his eyes, both literally and metaphorically, after he defeats the dragon and is taken from his friends—his real family. He can only watch in dread and cry his heart out as the world slowly deteriorates from the inside, leaving everyone to die but not him.

Why? They don’t deserve it. Everyone has been so kind of him and all he did was take, never giving the same kindness in return. He should be the one to sacrifice his life for them so they can live a happy life without him. This always happen. Whenever Grian is around, he destroys everything he touches—everything he ever cares about.

When the Watchers do their worst to him, he didn’t resist even once. It’s weird when all he did in his whole life was exactly that. They gave him wings, too many eyes for a human being, and knowledge regarding magic that he doesn’t even care about. Can he even call himself that after all the things he did? He quietly obeyed when they ordered him to watch over worlds he’s unfamiliar with, those specifically that are reeking with blood and smoke due to unending wars that they were manipulating from behind the scenes.

He quietly followed the orders of taking out any individuals or organizations that might get in their way with the help of his years of experience back in high school. He did everything like a dog awaiting its master’s orders. It feels like it doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s like the strings that keep him moving all this time have finally been cut off, leaving his husk for a body to drop lifelessly to the cold, hard ground, available for anyone to use however they please.

Just when Grian thought all hope is lost, a peculiar Watcher keeps on appearing right before him wherever he goes, casually making a one-sided conversation with his porcelain teeth expose through a cheeky grin. Even if he never responds to their obvious bait of making him talk, they still went out of their way to hang out with him everyday without fail, even if it's only a few minutes or seconds before Grian is summoned by the higher ups.

What is this guy plotting? Because he’s not buying it. Not anymore.

He does everything in his power to avoid meeting up with them at all cost, causing them to chase him all around the base the second they spotted him. Of course, he won’t let them do as they please and he hides at the places someone will least expect it, using his magic to avoid any detection even with their eyes. But for some reason, they always found him like it’s nothing. At one point to another, their weird chase has turned into a weird hide-and-seek of some sort and surprisingly, he kind of likes it. He enjoys how the breeze brushes against his cheeks and how fast his heart beats from the thrill.

Grian finally decides to give in to their peculiar Watcher and let them “find” him, sitting on the edge of one of the many floating islands as they laugh and catch their breath. It’s been a while since his face and stomach hurt from having so much fun. He thinks it’s a great thing every once in a while, for him to take a break from everything… but not too much. He doesn’t want to expect something like last time.

He turns to his side to watch how his companion is doing so far, only to exclaim as he sees a grinning face being too close for comfort. As he places a hand to his drumming heart, they burst into a fitful laughter and he doesn’t hesitate to punch them by the shoulder, stopping their laughter and whines about painful their shoulder apparently is. Grian huffs at how childish this creature acts, staring at their bright expression. Their eyes are a beautiful shade of purple, glinting like the twinkling stars all around them and his raven fringe slightly covers them, acting like a black backdrop as it highlights them more.

The Watcher’s teasing comment snaps him out his thoughts before they point out that they didn’t quite catch his name. With a whisper, he tells them he’s Xelqua, like he’s ashamed of it. He is. They shake their head and reiterate that they want to know his real name. He jolts at this, realizing that this individual approaches him like he’s one of them even after knowing about his reputation. Isn’t he disgusted of his existence for being an artificial Watcher?

With a gulp, his jaw hangs as he contemplates whether he wants to reveal his true—past name or not. After a shaky breath, he utters the name that he hasn’t used in a very long time. He pronounces it awkwardly like it’s a foreign word and not his name. He can feel a heavy hand patting his back gently, rising his head to meet this peculiar Watcher’s eyes, only to see a smile so tender that he’s afraid he might cry. No one has ever looked at him that way since… that day.

Before Grian realizes, he feels warmth wrapping around him and sees them through a blurry vision that they’re hugging him. The one thing Watchers never do in their entire existence is to show what is similar to humanity. In fact, they would rather die a million times over than show kindness and empathy towards their fellow Watchers or other creatures. But this Watcher in front of him did the impossible. Suddenly, his chest constricts as the tears won’t stop flowing and he can’t contain his sobs any longer, so he can only grasp at their robe like a lifeline as he cries his heart out.

After his embarrassing crying session, they let go of each other and stare at the black horizon beyond them in comfortable silence. Then, they introduce themself and says that their name is currently Charlie and uses he/him pronouns. Grian wonders why he never heard of their—his name despite being in the same division. Charlie replies that it’s his human name and it’s his most favorite one, muttering “she gave it to me” whilst his smile falters ever so slightly before going back into a cheeky grin. Grian is a bit confused about that whole thing but decides to shrug it off.

Since then, the two of them are hanging out more, telling stories about their lives with humans. As it turns out, Charlie really likes humans despite being a Watcher. “Like” as in not the same as the ones the Watchers use to justify their horrible actions, but “like” as in actually how Grian used to feel towards his friends. Apart from hearing him from time to time about how he missed his previous life with humans, Charlie rarely tells any stories about his personal life. Sure, he has a lot to talk about other planets, adventures, new discoveries, and more, but they were rarely about him. Even if he was, he only acted as a spectator of some sort. Wow, he really is a Watcher (compared to majority of them).

Unfortunately, Grian doesn’t miss the fact that they’ve been hanging out less and less, always being summoned by the higher ups the second they thought they finally have time for themselves. He knows and certainly Charlie knows as well that they’re purposely preventing them from seeing each other. The missions are getting harder and harder to fulfill and worse, becoming crueler. The image of an innocent crying baby’s life being snuffed so soon with his own hands keeps looping inside his mind, lurking and pouncing at every second he lets his guard down.

He can’t do it. Not anymore. He’s meant to keep this a secret from Charlie but after one of the missions, Grian slips up and starts breaking down the second he sees him, beginning to apologize profusely about how he can never make it up to that child.

And that’s when everything changes.

(Inspired from “7 Years” by Lukas Graham and Nanatsu no Taizai scene about Meliodas given a future illusion by Chaos about everyone dying except him due to immortality)

(I made this idea during early March last year, but I got bored from finishing this, so I’ll leave this idea here)

[razzmatome]

The Webs We Weave (Jude/f!OC)

A cautious witch stays alive.  Five words the Calloway sisters have lived by for as long as they can remember. They live like humans even though they’re not; a letter carrier, a dress maker, and a baker. They practice their craft in secret and never so much to draw the eyes of others. The hardest part of Bea’s day has always been playing peacemaker between her overprotective older sister and free-spirited younger. But everything changes when one of her sisters suddenly disappears. To make matters worse, the new investor in the dress maker’s shop is more than human himself and has taken too sudden an interest in her.  Caught between the urge to find her sister and the desire to stay safe, Bea must decide how fully she wants to step into the shadows and join the world she was hiding from.  A cautious witch stays alive, but a clever witch lives.

Pairing: Jude/f!OC

Word Count: 2354

CW: Swearing

Next

Note: Since we don't know what's going to happen on Jude's route, I thought I'd play with him and my oc in a different way. This story is technically set during William's route which is happening in the background and there are a couple relationships brewing in the background as well. I have ideas but we'll see if I can pull it off. I mostly just wanted to write a 'canon' setting for Jude and Bea. Borders from the lovely @/natimiles

         “Cate didn’t come home.”

         Bea looked up from the newspaper. Maggie was hovering at the edge of the table, twisting her fingers together. Worry was radiating from her, filling the room. She frowned as the words properly registered. “At all?”

         Maggie flopped into a chair, shaking her head. “Her room is exactly the same as yesterday.”

         That didn’t necessarily mean anything. Cate was particular about her things, liking everything to be in a certain place. But Maggie wouldn’t say that based on that alone. Setting the newspaper aside, Bea said, “What else?”

         A pained look crossed her face and she glanced away. “I came home late last night and I replaced your lock. It’s still mine on the door.”

         Something whispered down her spine, leaving a chill in its wake. There was no way Cate would forget to replace the lock when it was her rule in the first place.

         “Bea, something happened. There’s no way Cate wouldn’t come home. Not without telling us first.”

         No, she would have come home. She always came home. Since their mother had passed, Cate had taken her role as eldest sibling seriously. Too seriously if Bea was being honest, but they’d all processed Eleanor’s death differently.

         “We need to look for her.”

         Damn it. “No.”

         Maggie stared at her. “What do you mean no? Bea! We have to-”

         “Not yet,” she interrupted before her younger sister could start to spiral. “We can’t look without a plan. If we do, we might put her or ourselves in danger.”

         “She could already be in danger!”

         “We would know, Maggie.” Except if Cate were actually in trouble the last thing she would do was expose that trouble to her sisters. And judging by her expression, Maggie thought the same. “Tonight.”

         “What?”

         “We’ll look for her tonight. We need to prepare so that we don’t make anything worse.” Or expose themselves if Cate was fine.

         Maggie pressed her lips together, clearly displeased, and reached for her hand.

         Bea let her wind their fingers together, ignoring the tiny jolt her touch caused. She kept her mind clear, holding fast to the idea that Cate was fine. Maggie was a loose cannon on the best of days but adding a missing sister to the mix? She hadn’t dealt well with their mother dying, her emotions turning into a deep-rooted fear of the rest of her family abandoning her. Cate not coming home would have amplified that fear.

         She normally played mediator between the two of them so she understood both of her sisters’ emotions. But it was hard to keep a lid on her own concern to make sure Maggie didn’t act on her own.

         Her sister slumped after a few minutes, sighing. “You promise we’ll look?” she said in a small voice.

         Squeezing her hand, Bea murmured, “I promise. I’ll get everything ready.”

         Dark eyes searched her own before she sighed again. “Alright. I need to help open the bakery. Did you have breakfast?”

         There was no hiding her flinch this time and Maggie’s eyes narrowed.

         “You aren’t skipping meals again, are you?”

         “No. I’ll eat.”

         “You will,” Maggie said firmly. “Come to the bakery before you leave. I’ll give you something to eat on the way.”

         “You don’t have to. I’ll make something.”

         “I don’t trust you. You never eat properly if we leave you alone and you have that meeting with the investor today.”

         “Mr. Hale has a meeting, not me.”

         “You’re the only reason they’re still open to get an investor,” Maggie huffed. “They’ll want to talk to you if they want to know anything about the shop.”

         She really hoped they didn’t want to. “Get going before you’re late.”

         “Don’t forget to stop by before you leave!”

         Bea forced herself to smile as Maggie left before sagging in her chair. This wasn’t how she thought today was going to go. First, one sister missing and the other on her ass. She’d merely wanted to get through the day without incident. It was bad enough that with the investor wanting to visit, Richard and Sissy would likely be at the shop. They’d be in the way and make things harder on the ones that actually worked there.

         Twisting in her seat, she looked into the next room. What could have happened to Cate? It wasn’t like her at all to not come home. If she’d been running late, she would have sent word. Forget sending word; she couldn’t remember her sister ever spending the night out. Despite the fact that she and Maggie were grown adults, she was fairly certain Cate still checked to make sure they were in their rooms at the end of the night.

         Bea pushed out of her chair and walked into the sitting room. She approached a small side table in the far corner of the room. A flower arrangement took up most of the surface and in the center of it was a trio of candles, each a different colour.

         Taking a steadying breath, she passed her hand above the candles and watched flames flicker to life on all three. Each flame burnt the same colour as the candle. The yellow and black ones were steady, burning smoothly. But the orange one’s flame was diminished and flickering wildly in distress.

         “Why didn’t you call, Cate?” Bea muttered. She gripped the coin hanging around her neck and tried to focus. If Cate had been caught, any word or sign she sent would be traced and bring more harm than good. But there was strength in numbers and, even being cautious, there was little the three of them couldn’t overcome together.

         Closing her eyes, she let go of the coin and said, “Come to me.”

         A moment later she felt something curling around her legs and purring filled the room.

         She needed to make a choice now because she knew only one of them would leave her side. She couldn’t command both to. So did she send one to find the stable sister who had disappeared or to keep an eye on the chaotic sister who might not wait for tonight?

         “Jynx,” she said softly, “find Catherine Calloway.”

         A pleased meow before more purring.

         Looking down, she saw a single black cat at her feet, yellow eyes staring back at her. She leaned over to scoop him up and dropped a kiss between his ears. “Stay with me today, Grimm,” she whispered. “I’m going to need all the support I can get.”

         A soft paw touched her cheek, the purring growing louder.

         She took a deep breath and strode toward her bedroom. The sooner this day was over and they had answers, the better.

~

         Blowing smoke out the carriage window, Jude reviewed the contract in his hand. He knew every line, every word. He’d drafted it himself but he wasn’t above another check. He doubted the one who had signed it had done so as thoroughly as he should have. Wasn’t his problem though. Worked more in his favour that way.

         “You look happy.”

         “The fuck I do,” he growled, putting the contract away. “Shouldn’t have to check on a business ‘cause the shit who owns it doesn’t know shit about it.”

         Ellis hummed softly. “He did say it was his father’s shop.”

         “Family business and he’s family. He should know how to run the shop.” The fact that he didn’t was another point in Jude’s favour. It was highly likely that they were going to default on the contract in one way or another.

         Before drafting the contract, he’d gathered enough information on this family to know it was going to pan out for hin in the end. The dressmaker’s shop had been in the family for generations but neither the current nor former generations had picked up the trade. Despite that, they were still popular enough and seemed successful on the outside. But the family itself was a mess. A father who doted shamelessly on his daughter and a mother who preferred drink to her own family. A shameless son with a gambling addiction and a spoiled daughter who spent her every moment trying to climb the social ladder.

A single look at their personal habits had told him all he needed to know about why he’d been approached for help.

         Yet their shop remained afloat. That was the reason on paper for this visit. Even with everything he’d learned about the family, it had been nearly impossible to find any information on those that worked there. Any he’d sent had merely come away confused which wasn’t right. So now he was going to see what the hell was going on.

         His upper lip curled back. Victor had caught wind of the situation and made it something official to be investigated. It pissed him off that, on top of taking in that unlucky woman last night, the idiot was poking his nose where it didn’t belong. He had no interest in collecting more cursed; he just wanted to know what the fuck was going on in this shop and if it was going to interfere with his contract.

         It was far more likely the people he’d tasked this with were idiots and got drunk instead.

         An irritated noise left him. He had better things to do than check up on spoiled brats that were an easy mark. But here he fucking was.

         The carriage rolled to a stop and Ellis hopped out. Jude followed, finishing his cigarette. He stared up at the sign proudly proclaiming the business and exhaled a waft of smoke. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, striding toward the door.

         A little bell overly enthusiastically announced their arrival and every eye turned to them. Jude paid it no mind, heading to the counter and the official looking person standing behind it.

         For his credit, the man didn’t run but Jude didn’t miss the balk. “Welcome, sir. How can I assist you?”

         “Richard’s expectin’ me.”

         Pale eyes widened. “Ah, Mr. Jazza? Of course. Wait here and I will fetch him.”

         Watching as the man scurried away, Jude could feel the eyes still on him. It wasn’t surprising. This was a woman’s shop and he stood out like a sore thumb.

         Whispers raced around the shop as he waited and, while he didn’t outright pay attention, he heard every word they said. Drumming his fingers on the counter top, he counted the minutes he was kept waiting. They’d known he was coming at this time; what the fuck was the hold up?

         “Mr. Jazza!”

         That was not Richard. He watched with disinterest as the young woman flounced over to him. The daughter. What was she doing here? Everything he’d learned had said she rarely came to the shop. Meaning she was here because of him. “I was expectin’ your brother.”

         She stopped abruptly, a mix of emotions racing across her face. But he saw them and wasn’t about to forget them. Clearly he wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She quickly settled on the smile again but the edges were fake. “Richard’s coming. He wanted me to entertain you first while he finished his business.”

         There wasn’t anything entertaining about her. She looked like an overdone doll and didn’t sound much better. “My time’s valuable and I’ve only got so much to spend here. If your brother doesn’t value our contract, I can take my business elsewhere.”

         Something in her eyes shifted, a calculating look filling them for a moment. That he recognised. She was trying to figure out what she could get out of him. “I can show you whatever you want to see,” she said, reaching for his arm.

         He smoothly dodged her attempt. “Haven’t even told me your name.”

         She didn’t look pleased with him at all but her smile stayed put. “Oh, how rude of me. You can call me Sissy.”

         He really wasn’t going to do that. “I want to see the shop, see what I invested in.”

         Panic for a moment now, quickly stifled. “Oh, of course. Come this way.”

         She didn’t look confident at all which just further proved she didn’t know anything about the business. Had Richard thought he’d be distracted by his sister enough to forget why he was there?

         Anger coiled in his gut at that thought. If Richard thought that would work on him, he was in for a rude surprise. The contract between them was the only thing keeping his ass safe if he kept trying that shit. The moment he broke it….

         Ellis fell into step behind him as they moved toward the back and Jude took a slow breath. He’d dealt with idiots all his life. This wasn’t going to be any different. All he needed was some answers and then he could be done with this place.

         But he frowned immediately as they stepped into the workroom to find it empty. “Where are they?” he asked.

         “Oh, we sent them on break,” Sissily said breezily, waving a hand. “They don’t know anything anyways.”

         Jude took another breath. “How long does it take to finish a custom order?” he asked.

         She blinked at him. “Pardon?”

         “How much does it cost in materials to finish an order?”

         She took a small step back from him, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, well, I don’t-”

         “How many repeat clients ya have that put in regular orders?”

         He wasn’t surprised when he saw tears flood her limpid eyes at the questions. “Mr. Jazza, I-”

         “Get the head seamstress or your brother. I wanna see if this was actually worth my time.”

         She quickly fled the room, a further sign that she had no idea how to run this business. Yes, he was an investor but to leave him unsupervised among their goods?

         Jude made a sharp noise and strode toward a window. He shoved it open, wanting fresh air. They hadn’t even been here ten minutes and he already wanted out. These people were going to set his teeth on edge every time he dealt with them. But he would deal with it until they ultimately created their own doom.

[lmk-aus-galore]

Cinema Sins/Wins Rip Off of Lego Monkie Kid.

Yeah yeah I’m back folks, I just decided to take a looong break.

Inspired by @satansaidmyturnintheh3||scape

Rules:

-I won't be counting Animation Mistakes, because Idk how to do that, and I myself am a beginner animator (more like incredibly amateur, to the point I'm asking my sister for help) Unless of course the Animation is obviously and clearly having a mistake for me to watch.(Or it is said in the wiki) The other reason is because I don't want to keep repeating a scene just to check for an animation mistake.

-!This is mostly for entertainment purposes, sorry if I sound too mean!

-I also won't be counting flashbacks as 'mistakes' because most of them are based on bias.

-I'll be formatting it like this

-Neutral

-Sin

-Win

Let’s get started.

——————————————-

-Intro.

._.

-Love how you can see where Mei, Sandy and MK are in this scene.

-On the other hand why does Pigsy have a random game machine beside his shop? I know there are apartment buildings on top of said shop but in Season 2 he actively has authority to remove it.

-Secondly is MK currently on break at the moment or is he just, ‘slacking off’ judging by his clothes he should be currently working.

-Dragon Horse and Stone Monkey.

-Ah yes the underrated trio. Sandy, Mei and MK. Please tell me this group has a name.

-Bad time to call your daughter.

-The way Mei is so nervous to talk to her mother and the way she talks as if her mother doesn’t even give her enough time to explain, like I think Mei’s Mother is cutting her off at times here and it’s not really okay. It feels like Mei is talking to her boss than her Mom.

-Sandy for the win.

-The finishing move is a spin of the staff and a hit to the leg…wow MK.

-I really love how Sandy is just casually friends with these guys. Like these guys just met Sandy a few weeks ago and all of a sudden they said ‘Let’s be friends’

-Ok MK you should really get social cues…or at least let Mei get a word in-

-‘I always wanted to see Mei’s secret Dragon House full of secret Dragon stuff’ makes me wonder why no one believes in the Monkey King stories. Either that or why Mei isn’t being worshipped like a deity by now.

-Also MK, kinda creepy…but to be fair Mei put cameras on all of you…

-BRO THIS BULL CLONE HAS EVERYTHING ON HER?!

-Why does this Bull Clone pull out the same Two Pictures twice?

-Mei doesn’t smile in her photo, along with the rest of her family :(

-In fact she looks kinda restricted.

-Also Key detail, looks like Mei’s little green hair things are dyed!

-PIF confirms that Sha Wujing’s spear and Zhu Bajie’s rake are Celestial Weapons that later tie into Season 4

-We also have the Calabash, PIF’s fan, Wukong’s staff, Nezha’s spear and two of the Samadhi Fire Rings…though I think by this time of development this probably is Nezha’s little ring thingys in his shoes? Not really sure. The only one we don’t know about is the unidentified sword and the random rope.

-Also is she implying that her own fan is a powerful artifact? I guess that makes sense…?

-Why does PIF’s animation always stretch her or squish her I can’t take her seriously XD worse that it’s usually the face.

-Mei wanting to be a normal child is so sad. On the other hand why don’t we have more fanfics of Mei and her family dynamic? Come on people the angst is right there!

-When you think about it, the High-Tech security might’ve been the reason Mei became the ‘Tech Girl’ in the group. Since her family dabbles in High-Technology it’s only obvious she grew curious of that stuff.

-On the other note, what’s with Ancient families and suddenly getting a grasp at handling High-Technology? Like bro Red Son and Mei have so many parallels to each other it’s insane.

-MEI THIS IS WHY YOU DONT LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN.

-You know Red Son you might need to double down in calling Mei a peasant because uhh…wow, the place is huge.

-Mei’s room doesn’t have a door, which shows how shitty these people actually are.

-Also Mei has a lot of rock aesthetic posters, including one with a spider meaning Mei canonically had a rock phase. That or a goth phase so goth Mei is probably canon.

-Why I thought of rock is because of the two sets of guitars she has, one being an electric guitar.

-Mei also has a skateboard indicating she used to skate.

-She has an indoor TV with two game controllers (Why didn’t they just play in her bedroom?)

-And finally she has some things I think her parents would’ve given her such has the pony statue and the meditation carpet on the floor.

-Also apparently she plays the piano? Or is that even a piano?

-The legend of Mei’s sword is kinda cool actually.

-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT?! HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO GETS TO WEILD IT THEN?!

-I have a feeling I know why no one has been able to hold that sword in like…ever (They all look so mean)

-‘You two boot up the old TV!’ What TV? There is literally no TV there? Is there a TV off-screen? Even so where would you put said TV? And again, why not your room?

-MK control your strength- how the hell does that even happen?

-Bull Clone literally just yeeted his hat at him.

-Said Bull Clone took the precious Dragon Sword despite the fact that he was struggling to get it off the statue

-Mei calls her Motorcycle like a horse, get it? Dragon Horse?

-Okay now I don’t blame MK I think that pinball machine is old. BECAUSE HOW DOES THAT JUST HAPPEN?!

-Mei this house should at LEAST take up a whole acre, HOW BIG IS YOUR HOUSE?!

-Mei fixing her bike is while she is chasing the Bull Clone is badass as hell. We do not talk about her enough.

-Pro tip: Never mess with Mei.

-This is why we need to give this family some doubt, okay if literally all her ancestors are dissing her and insulting her to her face because of the way she acts then maybe you shouldn’t turn a blind eye.

-‘You know what I am part of this family! I am Mei! Descendant of the Great Dragon of the West Sea, this is mine! And this is my House!” You go girl, show these guys a what you’re made of!

-A very good take on Mei accepting who she is despite her family’s expectations on her. She’s part of the family but she knows that she needs to stand up for herself. Good bravo.

-IS IT JUST ME OR IS THAT THING BIGGER THAN NORMAL?!

-I wonder what the parents’ reaction was, Holy cow this might’ve been QUITE the sight.

-Yep that Bull Clone is straight up dead.

-MK I think that machine is really just old.

-Lol, Sandy making sure MK doesn’t lose focus.

-‘Somebody forgot our luggage’ then she stares directly at the dad and said dad doesn’t give a damn.

-The fact that Mei has to apologize first before getting praised is messed up as hell. If someone is trying to steal a really powerful relic such as that, then obviously it’s gonna be chaos, but the fact she has to apologize first before they acknowledge she did something good is messed up.

-But to be fair I think they do love Mei, really, but the way they parent just icks me.

-And Mei’s mom sounds like she pulled that whole talk out from google.

-Mei’s dad sounds…familiar hold up-

-KNEW I HEARD THAT VOICE SOMEWHERE. (Also apparently Mei’s mom is the same VA as Mei, so Stephanie Steph is just talking to herself)

-Poor MK…

[honeyfizzly]

I'm constantly flipping back and forth wether I should trust tabitha or not because Its really suspicious how protective she is of us, even if we're an complete asshole to her.

Also there's the whole ritual thing going on with the goat, it could be possible that tabitha has ulterior motives and wants us alive because ... well idk a sacrifice seems the most obvious option but whatever she needs done, it seems to hinge on the mc's health.

There's also her connection to Wayne and the death of her mother.

Wayne apparently disappeared at the estate around the same time pearlanne did and pearlanne died of sleep apnea but apparently had no autopsy. I've seen some people propose the idea that tabitha mightve smothered her mother with a pillow, and I think that could check out.

Apparently it's very hard to tell if someone was suffocated with a pillow or not, and often times investigators have to rely on checking fibers near the victims mouth and eyes to idenity what suffocated them, and handprints + finger marks.

You also have to be relatively strong to suffocate someone- which powerful build can say tabitha is surprising strong despite her size (it's if tabitha threatens you and then you push her off)- and most of the time the victims for suffocation are people who would be unable to fight back like children or elderly (I'm not sure how old pearlanne is, but her corpse looks pretty damn old. Since tabitha is in for early to mid twenties iirc, I think I would place pearlanne somewhere in her 50s-early 60s?).

Also it's very clear tabitha did not like her mother, and calls her a monster. So like I feel like it adds up that tabitha is perfectly capable of murder and able to do it again (rip reese) but also at the same time, I have a hard time thinking she's preparing to do something terrible to mc especially if you go down routes where you have a good (or good-ish) relationships with her.

Like, for example with my main mc Mckenna (yes I chose her name cause it had mc in it) I stayed the night at Stella's, hung out with her in the mines and on day 3 but didn't invite her ghost hunting, then when I got threatened in her office on day 4 and had mckenna cry I got a couple very interesting reactions.

(Sorry for not actually having a screenshot and just a picture, my computer is weird. Also one more note, this was when a strike was strong, I'll have to check what happens when the strike is weak but I have a similar relationship with Tabitha still)

This was the interaction I got when I said "im sorry, I know I haven't been the best cousin" iirc and she falt out admits she's jealous of us.

But we can also get this dialogue instead if we ask why she invited us at all if she hated us so much

(Once again sorry for bad pic 💔)

And idk maybe I'm the fool for trusting but that line about being family, and how that still means something to her feels so geninue it makes me doubt she actually intends to harm the mc.

Plus there's other interactions you can get with Tabitha, like if you have a very good relationship with her and question if she's happy in scarlet hollow or not she'll say no, but that she's happy you're here.

And idk, I just feel like somebody who had already planned to stab us in the back from the very start wouldnt be able to open up that much and be that vulnerable with their potential victim.

Also tabitha herself states she didn't want to like us (you get this by hanging out with tabby and calling her hypocritical for giving us such a hard time for living in the city), which of course could be spinned towards the idea that tabitha is planning to backstab us but also at the same time, it's not an uncommon defense mechanism for traumatized people to push away loved ones.

Tabitha has had a very hard life- from the pressure of being one of two scarlets left, having to run a dying coal mine, and the abuse from her mother to then her sudden death (and also her mother maybe possibly killing her ex).

It's very possible alot of her standoff-ness towards the player isn't because she has some malicious scheme, but rather it's her way of coping with the shitty cards she's been dealt in life (like the idea of pushing people away so you won't be hurt if they betray or leave you. It's a toxic mentality to have as it creates a self fulfilling prophecy, but it's a mentality some people have nonetheless).

I rambled alot but those are just some of my thoughts about tabitha. It's obvious she's gonna do something weird with that goat (my first idea is a sacrifice), but I'm not entirely sure wether she intended to betray the mc or not from the beginning (I lean towards not but I can still see a situation where she didn't intend to betray the mc from the start, but does so later depending on your relationship with her).