#this happens at least three different times btw

[they-thespian666]

Cringetober day 24: niche interest

Old Betty boop cartoons my beloved <333

She has the fuck around and find out spirit within her

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[just-a-little-unionoid]

currently realising with horror that if I want any fanfiction of the French Zorro TV adaptation to exist I will have to write it myself...

[kimikitti]

In honor of the new Book 7 part I present to you all the right and honorable Lord Calibearn the Pretender. Briar Valley's premier overworked government employee.

Former court jester turned Royal Advisor, he's wrangled almost three generations of Draconia royalty in vastly different ways. He's twisted from the forest animals in sleeping beauty taking over the Prince's coat. Yes, he is made up of a bunch of animals in a fancy stuffed outfit. There's a lore dump below the cut

Unique magic: "Flock Together"- Allows user to control and manipulate groups of small animals. Advanced application allows conscious transfer of the soul

Background:

Calibearn came from a relatively poor background in Briar Valley. He used to sing and play the lute for some extra coin on the streets. When the Royal Court held a competition for a new jester, Calibearn decided to try out. He was successful on account for the unique harmonies he could conjure with forest animals and was appointed as a companion to a young princess Malenoar. It was through this that Calibearn met Raverne and Lilia.

War: (I'm not too set on his lore yet) During the invasion of the Silver Owl, Calibearn was taken hostage trying to evacuate civilians. He was never supposed to be near the front lines, due to his weak nature. While in captivity, Calibearn was forced to give up his original form and escape using his unique magic "Flock Together".

He never found his original body.

Upon his return, Calibearn took on a more ruthless political role under the senate. His sharp tongue and wit led to a meteoric rise in political circles (plus a shit ton of blackmail).

During the seige of Malenoar's castle, Calibearn was faced with a terrible choice. Send more troups to defend Malenoar or move the supplies to secure civilians. He made a choice he'll never forgive himself for.

Relationships:

Malenoar: On account of a shared childhood, they were quite close. Malenoar would frequently tease Cali about his shyness when they were young. Calibearn also entertained the princess with the sordid affairs that happen amongst the nobles in her court. Calibearn was also involved in a lot of the mischief Maleanoar would pull on potential suitors.

Lilia: Calibearn developed a minor crush on Lilia growing up. He holds Lilia in very high regard. After the war, Calibearn and Lilia's relationship deteriorates. Lilia, though still believing in Calibearn as a friend, cannot forgive him for abandoning Maleanoar. Calibearn doesn't believe that Lilia is wrong about that, but also refuses to explain himself. While Lilia is banished, Calibearn constantly petitions the Senate for a repeal of his punishment. He continues to support Lilia indirectly and would often send gifts for Silver through Malleus.

After nearly centuries of healing, Lilia wants to finally have an open conversation of Calibearn about the past. Calibearn runs away from this constantly. Much to the chagrin of literally everyone involved.

Malleus: Due to the fact that the Senate sucks and Lilia was not often allowed to see Malleus, Calibearn self appointed himself to be a tutor and mentor to the young prince. He would often help Malleus sneak out to see Lilia. He wanted the prince to at least have some semblance of a childhood.

Calibearn was not always the best role model at times. He taught Malleus how to curse like a sailor once and got his ass kicked by Lilia. Though he is fond of Malleus, Calibearn felt himself to be a temporary figure in prince's life. The guilt he carried made Calibearn feel that his love for the prince paled in comparison to the love Lilia could give. As such, he kept some amount of distance between him and Malleus.

Malleus on the other hand, grew to respect Calibearn as a mentor. Though that doesn't stop the prince from teasing Calibearn at every opportunity. (Btw the I love DILF mug is from Malleus, Cali has no idea what DILF means no one tell him.) Also, Malleus is constantly trying to get is divorced dads back together. Silver gets enlisted into this fight on account for him being the youngest and cutest.

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + part two

authors note: wasn't expecting so many of you to be interested in this! but, you were, and now here we are! 😅 there will definitely be a final part 3 to this, btw.

words: 3.1k

part one

gif belongs to @romanreigns

warnings: angst, argument between parent and child, things get a tad bit physical....

Nova has always enjoyed and cherished Roman being home. For a lot of reasons. Many of them obvious, like the fact that he’s her husband, the man she loves, the man she wants to be around. Or even just the relief that comes with having another adult in the home to help out with the girls while she works. 

So him having time off work the past few months really has made a difference. For her. For their marriage. And especially for his relationship with their young daughters.

If only the same could be said for his relationship with their firstborn.

Which is exactly what she plans to tackle when he walks back in the room after putting the girls down for bed.

“How many stories did they sucker out of you?”

Roman chuckles at the first question he’s hit with as soon as he returns from bedtime duties. “Only three this time.”

She smiles, watching him close the door and walk over to where she sits on her knees in the middle of the bed. “Park must have worn them out.”

He makes a sound, starting to eye her up and down. Nova knows that look. Knows it far too well. It’s the same look that most likely led to both her pregnancies with their middle and youngest. “Speaking of wearing out…..”

She rolls her eyes when he reaches for her chin, lifting her head. “We need to talk.”

“Not gonna lie, not really in the mood for talking. Not with this little piece you got on….” He gestures to the thin sleep dress that shows off her breast and hardened nipples that are stretched against the cotton. 

“Too bad.” She ignores him, patting the spot beside her. “Come on.”

The scowl on his face is comical, similar to any of the kids when they’ve just been told something they don’t want to hear. “It better be important.”

“It is,” she promises. One of the most important things in his life. 

Roman looks at her, gaze shifting into something suspicious. “You pregnant?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Roman, I’m not pregnant.” Nova taps her upper forearm. “Remember? We made sure that doesn’t happen again. At least not without being planned.” He looks both relieved and torn. Relatable. Neither of them necessarily want any more children, but they also wouldn’t be upset if it happened. “Besides, we need to focus on the ones we have. Starting with Junior.”

And instantly, she knows she’s lost his interest. “Not this again—”

“Yes, this again.” She stresses, borderline irritated that he’s irritated that she wants to discuss his abysmal relationship with their firstborn. “He’s your son, Roman. You need to fix your relationship with him.”

“Nova, we both know that boy doesn't want anything to do with me.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not true.”

He runs his hands through his hair, expressing 100% disagreement. “He acts like he hates me or something.”

Though it’s said with surface level irritation, Nova knows her husband well. Has known him since they were teenagers, so it’s relatively easy for her to see through his facade. His statement holds a lot of hurt.

A lot of pain.

“He doesn’t, baby,” she comforts, reaching to push back some of his hair. He has it down, free and wavy just how she prefers it. “He’s just—-he……he feels like he can’t talk to you.”

Roman is quick to object. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“No, he doesn’t want to talk to you if you’re not going to listen to him, and you don’t sometimes, Roman.”

Nova loves her husband as much as she’s certain he loves her, but he can be hard headed and stubborn. Borderline arrogant, especially when he believes he’s right. A hard person to deal with. At times, at least.

She watches the way Roman’s shoulders relax a bit as he lets down some of his walls, admitting, “I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did.”

Nova moves and hugs him from behind, chin on his shoulder. “I get that, babe, but he’s going to make mistakes, regardless, because he’s a kid. That’s how they learn.”

“But, why should I just sit here and watch my son go down the same road I did if I can avoid it?”

And herein lies the main issue from what Nova has been able to see. The vastly different stances the two men in her life have regarding one of their futures. RJ wants to enter the NFL draft next year, wants to get started on his career now rather than later. Believes that’s the best route for him. Roman, however, wants his son to finish school and then declare for the draft. 

To avoid having the tough experiences Roman had in not getting drafted and being added and cut from team to team, putting the family in financial difficulties because of inconsistent income. Roman couldn’t even provide for his family at that time, a devastating feeling for anyone, let alone a man.

RJ, clearly, is in a different boat. Regardless, with no college degree, Roman didn’t have much to lean back on. He doesn’t want that for his son.

If only Junior saw it that way.  

“Because you can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She sighs, sharing her own thoughts. “I don’t disagree with you, Roman. I think he should stay and finish school and then enter the draft too, but I can’t make that decision for him, and neither can you.”

“So we just let him make bad decisions? Is that what you’re saying?” She closes her eyes. Here they go. “Fuck that. I know you like to be his friend, but you’re not, Nova. You’re his mother, and you need to act like it.”

“Excuse me?” She moves away, removing her arms from around him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t like confrontation, so you avoid it by any means, even if it means upholding his bad behavior.”

Nova doesn’t really get angry or let things affect her much. Unless it comes to her family. To her kids. And Roman happens to be picking at that soft spot. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make it seem like I’m a bad mother for supporting our son.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not everything needs to be supported.”

“And not everything needs to be judged either.” She shakes her head, climbing off the bed. “This is the shit I’m talking about. It’s like I can’t even talk to you anymore.” Nova heads for their bathroom, already over this conversation. She loves Roman, but sometimes, she can’t stand him.

And this is gradually turning into one of those times. 

Roman is hot on her heels, standing in the doorway as she starts to pull out her skincare items. “See, you’re proving my point. You’re walking away.”

She turns to him, explaining boldly. “I’m walking away because I don’t want to argue with you. I’m tired of that, and you should be too, which is why I’m trying to get you to make peace with your only son.”

Of course, he continues playing the victim, going along with his swan song. “Why should I have to do it? Why should I have to apologize for looking out for him? For being his father?”

“He doesn’t see it that way, Roman. He sees it as you being controlling.”

“No, he just doesn’t want anyone telling him what to do.”

Nova scoffs, grabbing her face cream, twisting off the cap. “Wonder where he gets that from.”

She doesn’t have to be looking at him to know he’s scowling. “He’s not a little boy anymore. You need to stop fucking babying him all the time.”

At that, her head snaps in his direction. “Excuse me?” Again, poking the bear. “I don’t baby him. I make myself available for him emotionally. Lord knows, you don’t.”

“He doesn’t want me—”

Nova slams the jar down on the counter, turning to him. “What does he want, Roman? Huh?” She places one hand on the counter and the other on her hip. “When’s the last time you even asked him?”

He looks away, jaw clenched, and she knows she’s got him. Knows that he has no retort for that. Not a good one, at least. 

“You know what, I’m done asking you to do shit.” She steps toward him, all of the weight and stress of this situation evident in both her expression and voice. “I’m telling you to make things right with our son.”

Nova takes his hands in hers. “I love you, but I love our children more.” She swallows, emotion betraying her, eyes watering. “And if it ever came to it where it’s between them and you….I choose them every time.”

—--------

“We need to talk.”

Nova is barely back in the kitchen after getting the girls down for bed when the smile is easily wiped off her previously happy face. She glances over at her husband and then her son, both standing on separate sides of the kitchen island. She can tell RJ was about to head out, clearly uninterested in staying beyond his attendance for Sunday family dinner.

A part of her wants to cut in, wants to suggest that maybe they do this another time. Maybe over lunch between the two of them. Someplace where they’re less likely to have an epic blowout.

But, it’s too late.

RJ visibly tenses at Roman’s statement. An obvious reaction given the fact that rarely do good things follow those four infamous words. 

“About?” 

“You still planning to enter the draft?”

RJ shrugs. “Yeah.”

Roman is quiet for a second, stroking his beard. “You know that’s stupid, right?”

Nova closes her eyes. Such a great start. “Roman.”

RJ, however, just smiles and crosses his arms. “Of course, you think it’s stupid. Not like anyone else can have a good idea if it didn’t come from you.”

Roman ignores that, instead suggesting, “you need to finish school first. Get your degree.”

“Why?” RJ’s nose is turned up in disgust. “We all know I’m locked in to be a first round pick.”

“That’s what you think. It’s not guaranteed.” Roman objects, advising, “don’t get too cocky.”

At that, RJ looks like he wants to laugh. “You’re telling me that?” He scoffs. “You’re the last one to talk.”

“Junior.” Nova scolds, now standing almost directly next to Roman. “I think what your dad is trying to say—”

“How much longer you think I’m gonna keep putting up with your disrespectful ass mouth, huh?” Roman cuts her off, and Nova finds herself reaching over to grab his hand. His tone alone tells her his anger is spiking, and that’s never a good thing. Especially right now. “Keep it up.”

And the situation is only made worse when Junior starts to laugh. Nova closes her eyes. This is not what she meant when she told Roman to make things right.

He’s doing the exact opposite. 

Roman’s nose is flared, his voice tight as he he asks, “what’s so fucking funny?”

“You.” RJ doesn’t hesitate to answer, hands flat on the granite as he leans over the island. “How all of a sudden you wanna be my dad. How you all of a sudden wanna act like you care about me. Act like you care about my future. Act like you didn’t miss almost, if not all, of my games when I was growing up.”

Nova’s stomach is starting to twist and knot. “RJ—”

But, he only continues. Pain and anger meshing and forming into a dangerous combination. “Mama was there. Every game. You weren’t.” Nova glances over at Roman and sees the same mix of feelings from their son in him. “You weren’t there for me then, so you don’t get to be there for me now.” 

Closing her eyes, she does her best to quickly try to figure out what’s the best thing to say. To try to defuse this situation that’s clearly much deeper than she could have ever realized. 

But, Roman is faster. “You act like I was this piece of shit dad who was never around at all.” And just like with her son, she sees and hears it with the senior of the two. Anger and hurt. And pride. “I had to work to provide for you and your mother. You don’t get to throw that shit in my face when you’re older and use it to play the victim.”

Neither. Neither of them clearly know how to communicate without slinging mud. Without sharing how they feel minus the petty jabs and cheap shots. 

RJ only scoffs, seemingly unbothered. “Whatever.”

Roman leans his head back and rolls his shoulder. “RJ, I’m telling you right now, you leave school early and shit doesn’t work out, I’m cutting you off.”

Nova would have loved to have seen her son’s reaction to that, but she’s too busy looking at her husband with all the shock instead. They never discussed that. And she’s pissed off that he would even bring it up without even consulting her about it.

“Roman, you’re being—”

He ignores her, continuing to direct his warning to their son. “You wanna act grown. You can deal with whatever those consequences are.”

RJ shakes his head, Nova finally looking over at him. She can see it. So much hurt. “So what, I don’t do what you want, and I don’t get to be your son anymore?”

Roman snaps, raising his voice. “You don’t want to be my son now, so what fucking difference does it make?” 

“Roman!” She can’t believe he would say that, can’t believe he could ever fix his mouth to express such a thing to his own flesh and blood. It turns her stomach a little bit. Truly. “Don’t say—”

“It’s alright, mama. That’s who he is. It’s who he’s always been.” The betrayal is seeping through as RJ directs his comment toward her instead of Roman who only continues to look with that same combination of heavy emotions. “I don’t even know why you're still with him” Nova is already at a loss for words at how bad this has gotten, but nothing could have prepared her for what he says next. “Should have left his ass the minute you found out he cheated on you.”

Silence.

Nova’s gaze switches to Roman who seems just as taken back as she feels. How RJ is aware of this, she has no idea. Nor does she know just how much he knows about what really occurred and the complexity of the situation. But, that’s neither here nor there. Because she’s got a whole other issue to handle that’s created with Roman’s next statement. 

“Get the hell out of my house.”

Her eyes snap shut again. 

Shit.

She reaches for his arm. “Roman….”

“No!” He snaps. At her. At RJ. At the situation as a whole that’s reached a higher level of disaster than she could have ever anticipated. “He thinks he knows every fucking thing. Wants to be a man. So let him be a fucking man!”

This is not what their son needs. Far from it. “Roman!”

“Naw, he’s right, mama! I don’t need him!” Her attention switches to her son, who much like his father, is doing a damn good job hiding his hurt at this entire thing. Hiding the open, gaping emotional wound. “I can take care of myself!”

“So do it!” Roman continues, completely honed in on his emotions instead of the logic Nova is trying to desperately instill and impart on them both right now. “Get your own fucking car! Pay your own fucking tuition!” 

“I will!” He yells back. “Acting like this your house when everybody knows mama was the one taking care of your broke ass and everything else until your career kicked off!”

“RJ! That is enough.” All of this has gone too far. “I know you’re upset, but he’s still your fath—”

“He’s nothing to me!” Nova feels like she’s in some sort of simulated reality. One where every single one of her worst fears comes to life and haunts her. Or, maybe that would be more enjoyable than this. “He’s just a narcissistic ass—”

Nova has never had fast reflexes. Ever. Two left feet, poor hand eye coordination. The whole nine yards, but there’s nothing slow about the way in which she jumps in front of Roman who starts to lunge toward their son with nothing good in mind.

Nothing good at all.

“No!” She shouts, hands on his chest, knowing that it’s certainly not her strength restraining him. It’s the fact that he clearly doesn’t want to hurt her. “Roman, no! Please!”

“Let him go! Let him do it!”

“RJ! Shut up now!” Nova snaps, directing some of her own simmering anger to her son. She feels for him, sees the hurt hiding behind the anger, but enough is enough. He’s out of line. 

“Why?” He continues. And Nova is really starting to wonder if he took something, because this is not the son she knows. The child she raised. She never taught or allowed him to be this disrespectful. “You know I’m right! Even uncle Jey said it! Dad is a bit—”

Nova is barely able to process what’s happening until she’s stumbling to the side, Roman having bypassed her. She’s only able to see the moment he shoves RJ who stumbles and falls back, just not on the ground. 

No. A single, small cry pierces the air and causes all three of them to pause, even if for the briefest second.

“Mommy!” Arabella’s cry of pain is slightly muffled under RJ’s heavy body as he quickly moves to roll off his little sister whose face is turned up in pain, her arms reaching out for a source of comfort.

Roman looks devastated. RJ is mortified, and Nova can only rush over to her daughter, quickly lifting and holding her, gently cradling her head as Bella cries into her.

“Mom, I’m sor—”

“No!” Nova snaps. Enough. She’s just had enough. “Both of you get the hell out of my house!”

Roman swallows and steps forward, eyes focused on Bella’s little body as she sobs into Nova’s neck. “Bella—”

“I said I want you out!” She reaffirms, stepping toward her son whose anger has melted away into a stirring pot of guilt. “You come back when you find your goddamn brain.” Angling her body toward her husband, to the man she’s spent so much of her formative years and life with, feeling for the first time in a long time, nothing but disgust. “And you?” Nova is almost certain she feels the moment her heart breaks as she says those infamous words. “Don’t come back at all.”

[copperbadge]

how do you/have you handled Fandom Micro-Fame re: dating, especially people you meet through apps? I dither enough about whether/when to even mention fandom to new non-fannish people! and I'd imagine that letting new people know you've written some very popular fics & having thousands of tumblr followers would look different than casually mentioning your audience to your therapist, for example :P (this is purely curiosity about your position if you're open to talking about it, btw - not looking for advice!)

In all honesty, until last year no attempt I made at online dating ever got that far. I rarely got a swipe on the apps, and usually when I did it was either someone cheating on their partner or, memorably, someone wanting to play out their fetish fantasy nonconsensually (this happened at least twice that I recall). It never got to the point where you'd talk about that kind of thing. In the rare cases I met someone in brickspace and dated, which last happened in grad school, I didn't talk about it -- but partly that's because at that time I had three thousand readers, not thirty thousand.

Lucky in fanfic, unlucky in love :)

The person I'm currently seeing most often knows that I have a blog with a large readership but hasn't asked any further; I only mentioned it to them because I felt comfortable giving further details if they did ask. This is very much a friends with benefits type of situation (by mutual agreement) so I assume it's something we either won't discuss or something that will arise organically. In a way it's fortunate that they're also dealing with a certain level of micro-fame as someone who is prominent in their professional field, so they're not particularly weirded out by my situation just as I'm not weirded out by theirs; they're also familiar enough with fandom not to find it an alien landscape.

Generally speaking I keep fandom and brickspace somewhat separate, though that line has blurred more in the last five years or so. I don't really bring up fandom to family or non-fannish friends, and the friends I made beginning in fandom I now have strong connections to outside of fandom, so they're not Fandom Friends, they're friends I just met online. While fandom is obviously important to me, it's not something I really feel I need to tell people about unless I get an inkling they'd actually be interested.

It's just kind of a non-issue for me, which probably isn't very satisfying as an answer. I talk about fandom with fannish folk, and I talk about other stuff with non-fannish folk. If I feel like someone would understand the crossover I let it happen organically, but especially in dating I just haven't dated enough to develop any kind of policy about it.

[rainydrawstuff]

first meeting? the official one at least. the one to finally kickstart their friendship, for real this time

(this is a flashback from a little jayvik hogwarts professors au)

I started it with a friend, this would be the fragment of the draft corresponding to the sketch above:

Viktor walks into the library like every other day and finds it a bit more crowded than usual. Searching for a place to sit, he spots Jayce Talis. He’s facing away from him, hunched over the table, flicking his wand in one hand hitting the back of his head repeatedly, as a quill moves wildly in his other hand. Viktor approaches him quietly.

Coming to stand behind him, he looks over Jayce’s shoulder and watches as he crumples a piece of paper in his hands and throws it away. There are three more of those on the table. Intrigued, Viktor inches closer and tries to read. That’s when he realizes Jayce is mumbling to himself.

“No, this is… It has to be som… ing else. But… What? Ugh. Wha… id I write here?” He lifts the parchment and starts looking at it from different angles. “Blue… do…Dartwing?”

“Butterfly wings.” Viktor says before he can stop himself.

—

This is 3rd yeah btw! They’re both the same age in this AU.

You may be wondering what happened 1st and 2nd year… well, let me tell you about that in another post! But this is def not their first interaction. I guess it’s a bit like canon, we all see a certain scene as their first meeting, but actually they’d already met.

Note: I personally think Jayce is Hufflepuff at heart but my friend sees him as Gryffindor and it works for me, cause that savior complex gotta go there lmao

I also love when people put them in Ravenclaws, but to me Viktor is more Slytherin (resourceful and ambitious). Plus we already made timebomb Ravenclaws, we needed diversity ahaha

At the end of the day you can choose your house regardless of what the sorting hat says soooo maybe they exercised free will, who knows!

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Can you write some fluff/comfort xisuma? Been wanting some more cute and cosy fics for him but so few write them <3 love your writing btw! Long time lurker<3

Sorry it took a little while anon, but the fic is now here. Enjoy!

Business Man

Oneshot Contains: nothing but Fluff -----------------

You wander into the trophy shop, hoping to find Xisuma. You're behind on three trophies now, and it's not because you haven't sent in your diamonds.

In fact, turns out your mail was getting lost, to and from your home. Etho and Tango will be out to fix it soon, but it depends when they have the time. Thankfully Etho had dropped off all the lost mail at the Post Office, where Pearl had sorted it out and called you to pick it all up. The unfortunate thing was that the lost mail included the multiple parcels sent to Xisuma that didn't arrive.

So here you are, in his shop, hoping he is too. "X?" You call out, but there is no response. The trophies sit on their display pedestals, almost mocking you. Or at least they could be in a different world, but they're only trophies and that was a silly thought.

"X?" You call again, this time hearing a soft thud come from the wall. You take a few more steps into the room and look at some of the bigger trophies.

"This feels like a scam now that I think about it." You stare at the trophies and they stare back. It's definitely mocking. Trophies you earn diamonds to get.. and spend diamonds to get. "I can assure you it isn't." You turn quickly at the sound of Xisuma's voice, and sure enough there he stands. He's just barely in the room, coming from some hidden door.

"Oh, I didn't.. you know, mean it like that. I just meant that you're, well, a" the words are already barely pieced together but finding the end of the sentence is not easy. "I'm an entrepreneur. A business man, if you will." You see the gleam in his eyes through his visor. "Yes.. that." You reply, "a business man. A man of business. Xisuma." You're feeling even more flustered by the minute, the fact he's closing in on you only increasing that feeling.

"I heard you had some mail that got lost, did you come to deliver it personally?" His voice is so smooth and confident you find yourself completely at a loss for words. So you just nod, pulling the envelopes from your inventory. He holds out his hand, leaning just a little closer as he does. You swallow hard as you place the mail in his possession, at this point just trying to have the moment over and done with.

"Let me go sort this out for you, won't be a second." With that he's gone. You can breathe again. You look around the room, the trophies sparkling under their lights, the product of a business man. A man who has somehow taken your diamonds and apparently your heart.

Now your reaction seems silly, and you hope he didn't notice.

Soon enough he reappears, box in hand. "I've got your trophy, you'll have to be careful with this box though. Don't do anything too adventurous as this ones quite fragile." He places the box on the floor next to you. "Don't worry, I didn't make any plans because I knew it would be." Xisuma moves to lean against the pedestal opposite you, silence settling in.

Then he speaks up. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to do something? You don't have to, I just thought maybe you and I could go for a walk.. or visit the zoo or maybe something else?" Any smoothness or confidence he had earlier? Gone. Yet he remains just as charming. "Like a date?" The words just come out of your mouth before you have time to stop them.

"Yeah, well no. Unless you want it to be?" You think about it for a second. Is this actually happening? You were not expecting to be asked on a date. "I wouldn't mind a date." Is all you manage to say.

Xisuma steps forward, offering his arm to you. You take it, heart pounding in your chest. This is both exciting and terrifying. "Let's go then." You can hear his smile, the two of you leaving the shop immediately.

You walk down to the river with very little said between you, just enjoying the moment. As much as you can anyway, it's not like your nerves are in shreds or anything. Xisuma doesn't seem to mind the lack of conversation though, or at least if he does mind he says nothing.

The two of you walk for what seems like forever, even though it can't have been more than an hour. Almost a full lap of the shopping district has been done, but you both find a well needed place to sit down and rest. Conveniently for the two of you Keralis' Lake not only has seats, but a nice view and some shade.

You both settle on a bench, Xisuma leaning into you a little when you put your arm around him. "This has been nice." He mumbles. "It has. And I've not been robbed blind by your devious business tactics." You joke, earning a small laugh from Xisuma.

"Just because you kept your diamonds doesn't mean I haven't gained something of value." You can't help but smile, knowing he's speaking about the time spent with you.

The sunlight dances on the waters surface, which does remind you of your trophy. Your trophy which you left in Xisuma's shop. It's not a big deal, it gives you another excuse to see him now. Perhaps that was his plan the whole time, you'll never know. Or maybe you will if he tell you.

Regardless, Xisuma is right. The time you've spent with him has been wonderful, even if most of it has been spent in silence. All you wanted was to bring in your lost mail, but you've come out with a nice date. That's a win in your eyes.

Xisuma reaches over and takes your free hand in his, sighing softly as he gets comfortable being held. Between the cuddle, the sound of the birds and the lake, it's truly peaceful. "I'd like to do this again sometime." He says. "I'll do it again under one condition." You reply quietly, "I'll do it again if you'll be mine?"

Xisuma lets out a breath of relief, "I was worried you'd ask for a discount, but that's a much better deal in my professional opinion." The two of you giggle before settling back down, to spend some more of your day cuddled up by the lake.

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x period!reader

title: im a baby you're holding

warnings: descriptions of blood, nudity (not sexual), pain, fluff that will make your heart ache!

a/n: sorry not sorry, this is cute and I know I should've done a period comfort sooner. posted this at three am btw. as always sorry for typos, this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. enjoy babes.

-

It as rainy out, I could tell by the small window up by the ceiling of the basement, it was grey outside, the sky and the clouds gave me a feeling of home along with the smell of dirt. I was huddled against a corner of the basement, my knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around them, I was bleeding... Yes it is as it may seem. I moved to the cold uncomfy ground because God knows how Albert would respond if I had bled on the mattress.

Though the mattress is already quite dirty, I didn't want it to be blood. He could think so many things and one of them would be my self harm, he didn't believe me when I said I wanted to stay with him, at least not yet, and time again he'd show me how much he trusted me and id show how much I trusted him. But today was different, I was waiting for dinner, for him to unlock that door and see the bloody mess on the blood.

Would he get mad? Hed punish me by leaving me alone in the dark in which he knew I feared, but only time will tell how he'd react and I waited, my heart calm pounding in my chest. But then I heard that door unlock it fluttered like a moth, it wanted out. I flinched but kept my head down. He entered, he set the tray down on the hard floor and squatted down to my level, he was close I could hear his breathing through the mask.

He pet my hair, he hummed softly. "Hmh, bunny?"

I looked up my eyes teary and glossy as I did, his eye grew soft in his mask and looked down to the blood below us, I immediately felt the tension and guilt. He titled his head at this but didn't say anything about it. But he spoke once again.

"You've earned so much trust from me, I don't want you to be scared over something that is bound to happen." I couldn't help it, I started crying even more. He sighed and pulled me close. "Shh, I gotcha." He put my head on his chest, he rocked side to side gently.

"I suppose you'd want to get cleaned up?" I nodded a little, his voice became lighter like he was happy and almost amused. "Yeah?" I knew he was smiling under the mask.

He helped me up to my feet, it was clear I was sitting in the same spot for a while, my nightgown was soaked in blood. He walked to he basement door and opened it, he looked back at me. "Come on... I promise it's alright." 

I walked towards him and as we walked up the steps he kept his hands over my eyes, making sure I didn't trip over a step and made sure I walked to the bathroom without looking, I understood why he didn't want me to. There was a flick of a light switch and a closing of a door. He uncovered my eyes. I was in a bathroom, the toilet next to the sink and in front of the sink was the bath, he turned on the water. 

He put the plug in the drain, "I'll have to stay here with you while you bathe. I can't have you trying anything can I?" He patted my head.

I titled my head a little, he laughed at this. "Don't worry Bunny, I won't do anything you won't like. What's important is we get you clean." 

The water went, I was feeling a little shy, he sighed at this and spoke once again. "I'll be back. You get undressed and in the water."

He left the bathroom, I did what I was told. I got undressed and slipped into the hot water it made my body relax and I settled but I kept my knees pressed against my chest. He came back in with a new nightgown. "I suppose I can say I was prepared for this." 

He also had some new underwear for me... And a pad. I felt loved, so loved. He crouched down from the outside of the bath and grabbed a bar of soap. "Now, I can't do this unless you tell me it's alright." His voice was stern like he meant it.

"It's okay..." I said. He looked at me to double check it was really okay before he started to rub my back with the bar of soap, and brought it to the front of my chest on my collarbone. I slowly put my knees down. 

It's not like I felt uncomfortable but I was in a vulnerable state. He didn't want to make me uncomfortable nor did he have any intentions of it. He just made sure I got clean before getting my hair wet and he was trying to be very gentle, he's never done this before and it showed. I giggled a little and I saw his eyes look at me through his mask. 

He didn't say anything but I knew he smiled a little as he continued to wash my hair. He rinsed me and that's when he started speaking again. "Feel good?" His voice was light. 

I nod a little and once he got me rinces he stood up, putting his hands on his knees and he grabbed a towel... His towel from the wrack and held it open. "Let's get you dry." 

I stood up slowly, it was clear I was in some pain, he dried me gently and he me some privacy to get dressed and situated. Once I was done he sighed. "I understand... Cramps may be a problem."

I didn't say anything but he knew it was a very likely possibility and didn't need my word to take action. He held out his hand for me to take. Almost like you would a child, and I took it. He led me back to the basement and got me back on the mattress. 

He sighed, "I'll get you something for the pain." He whispered like he didn't want me to hear but at the same time he did.

When he came back he had a hot water bottle, he sat next to me again. "lay down." His voice is soft once again, I do so. He gently placed it on my lower tummy and rubbed the side of my hip. 

He didn't want to leave me alone, he felt so sad I had to stay down here in the dark, in pain. He knew periods weren't fun and he just had a spot in his heart to want to stay, so he did. He lied next to me but he didn't touch me, not wanting me to be uncomfortable but I didn't want him to think it would so I scooted closer to him.

I knew he was smiling a bit under his mask. He put his hand on my forehead and stroked me gently till I was able to relax from the pain and go to sleep.

And through the night he made sure that hot water bottle stayed warm, even if it meant him having to get up the stairs and all the way back down. 

He kissed my forehead and slept next to me, he was a light sleeper and when he heard me start to whine from the pain he immediately woke. "Oh. Shh, shh, shh." He cooed.

He stroked my cheek, he whispers gently. "Breathe, focus on my voice."

I sniffled, I was subconsciously holding onto his sleeve but he didn't mind. He smiled at how much he was able to help and he kissed and rested his lips on my forehead for about five seconds before rubbing my tummy gently. Making sure I fell asleep once again.

[palenutbasement]

(all scenes are depicted as platonic)

So every Inktober I try to do something more challenging, and this year I thought I would make a short comic/fanfic. I think I got the idea for this one a year ago but I was already wrapped up with another Inktober. Eventually I solidified the idea by making my own prompt list some time ago.

This comic is split into three parts with 10 days focusing on each of them, 30 in total, everything is compiled here. I wanted to post them after October in case I wanted to change anything.

This first part takes place in the summit.

The comic is basically all improvised, that means no planning for the composition, plot, or sketching any drawings. The most planning I did was write a few scripts ahead of time within the month to save me some time but most of them would be changed last minute anyways.

As for the plot, I won't go too deep into it because I don't want to talk too much, so you'll just find commentary on the making of the comic and stuff.

This first part is a little gimmick-y compared to the next two, with new elements appearing almost every day. It’s because I relied a lot on the prompts (dog, milk, etc.) to keep things happening, eventually I move further away from them.

What is surprising to me is how much the art changes as the days go by especially within the span of one month. I did refine a few things to keep it more consistent but this is nearly indistinguishable from the original drawings.

I should also mention that my favourite aspect of this project was adding references to the game and subtle details (if you can find it all, awesome!!) This may have been done quickly but I like to have those things and put at least a bit of effort into the dialogue.

Part 2

Eventually I figured that drawing the same setting for 30 days straight would drive me insane, hence why this comic is split like it is. I’m glad I did because it makes the story a little more interesting, seeing the characters have different attitudes in different places and whatnot.

This one takes place in the cave directly after pt 1. Admittedly I do better drawing outdoor settings, it's what I'm used to, but the cave wasn't so bad to figure out.

I remember these two days I was streaming drawing the comic to my friends, so I kinda zoned out while we were talking lol

One of the prompts was about napping, so I made Dwarf sleep. I believe I was tired that day too and it was therapeutic to draw and include that. Also they look cute, I think.

18 & 19 have some of my favourite drawings in the comic. The campfire lighting is what we'd get if I had a bit more energy each day, and I like the perspective in the first panel of 19.

I find this last section interesting, because of all the 30 days, it’s the only one in Dwarf’s POV. I felt like it was fitting to do something like that at the time.

Part 3

Since we were approaching Halloween, I wanted to have a special part for it. It’s related to the other two parts but it takes place some time after. I’m really sorry it’s out of season, if it were up to me I would have had this post out earlier (thank my midterms for the delay)

Out of all the other parts this one is my favourite. Maybe because it’s more recent I’m inclined to think that way but it has some of my fave moments that I've written here.

Other than that I don't have much commentary for this part. More thoughts at the end!

I was caught up everyday atp, but I didn’t have much spare time to prepare for the ending (I wrote it the morning of that day). I think this is a decent conclusion though.

I intend on coming back to this story, maybe next year to make a continuation but we'll see what happens. There are definitely things that I want to come back to someday.

Thank you for making it this far btw. It's been an eventful month for me beyond this (Untitled) comic, but there wasn't a single aspect of this that I didn't enjoy doing. It's a silly project and I care about it.

Also, I'm not going to neglect the 31st of October! That day will get an illustration, where I will pick my favourite panel and redraw it. I want to take my time with this one so it's not out yet, but hopefully I can finish by Christmas.

[6feathered6siren6]

Winding back the clock

Trigger warnings

Death/gore

Killing the main love interests

Being dilutional

Spoilers of the good/bad ending of love interests

Note: This was inspired by a song, "Again & Again" and reminded me of this game. Anyway enjoy, I will continue this idea with small tidbits, don't know if it would be in order yet, but this is one is at least. Btw rolled a d20 for how this story went, I rolled a nat 1. So be prepared, it's kinda angsty.

P1, P2, P3, P4, P5

𓆩☠︎︎𓆪

September 31st, 11:50 pm. Again.

You have been through this for how long now? Years? You don’t remember, but you remember when it started. 

『00:01』

You didn’t know The Devil Butcher’s name in time, and there was no way out. You had stabbed him, felt the red, hot liquid on your hands, stained them from that moment one. His laughter filled the alleyway. Forever ringing in your ears. His bloody toothy grin was his last movement before the light from his eyes vanished. 

You ran home, you felt his spirit taunting you. His laughter still rings in your ears. No matter how many times you shower, wash your hands until they bleed themselves. You can still feel his blood on them. 

You felt your phone ping, it was Angel. You felt her anger through the letters and words. Then Ronin’s account texting you, then felt like your body was light and saw black. 

-

As you came to, you saw your bedroom ceiling. Not the bathroom. You swore you were there. And you swore you were wearing different clothing, ones painted in red. Not… your cartoon pajamas. Did someone come in here? You check your phone which didn’t have that crack when you dropped it near thanksgiving. Turning it on, September 31st, 202X, 11:50 pm. 

Did.. Did you go back in time? You stared at your phone screen for a moment, you felt so much fear. You looked at your bright computer screen and saw Ronin’s invite to the server. 

This has to be a dream, like it can't be true. Right?

『00:02』

You chalked it up to some weird dream of showing you the future if you loved Ronin. You couldn’t go down the path of falling in love with him again. You couldn’t. You still hear his laughter, your hot covered hands. Instead, you went to the most chaotic member of the server, Misaki. 

You had them in your arms. Her smile was bright, and full of love. Her crossed dazed eyes stared at yours. They were gonna go assassinate someone, but you had to stay at your place while it happened. At least you can text and call, right?

-

You heard the shot through the phone. Her saying ‘I love you.’ and ‘Not your fault.’. But it was, you allowed yourself to let them call you. You knew not to, and you did it anyway. Misaki was dead. And it's your fault. You could feel weight built up on you. Another death you caused. Another soul staring you down. 

You felt your phone ping. You look at it, Ronin and a few others are spam calling you. Ronin knows you did it. There is only so much time you could get away from him, you had to leave, find some protection. The moment your hand was on your doorknob. 

You blinked.

You’re back to your computer screen. Back to September 31st, 202X, 11:50 pm. 

This had to be a dream, right? Like some weird psychic dream. This can’t be real, you can’t have two people’s blood on your hands. 

『00:03』

V, V was a sweetheart in your opinion. And you tried to not be murdered or murder anyone else. Telling him straight out, no, you are not a killer. Well, in reality? Right? And that, he should try and not put Ronin in prison, giving him the freedom from death or going there at all. Or, paying back that you weirdly killed him in a dream. 

You went through Luca and Feli’s whole drama of not dating each other. Helping them again for the third time. Your dream predicted this situation twice, three times now. 

Vince’s Christmas dinner was three times correct. Or ‘March is for murder’ again. Feli and Luca’s whole “Is Vince and Ai Hua dating or MARRIED?!” debacle. Christmas call, then Ronin either giving a shovel talk or rizzing you up himself. 

Three times true. Your dilution is tough shelled, that had to be some messed dream. That showed the future… 

V was arrested. 

It still hurts so much, he might die either in there or on some death sentence. You didn’t know. They didn’t arrest you, leaving you on a whole new warrant. You had limited time. 

That same ping. The same message of something went wrong. The same ping of ‘You fucked up.’ You were screwed.

Your hands gripping onto your skull, turning your knuckles white and feeling blood run down your head. Your eyes shut close, hurting them. And Ping! You opened your eyes.

It was your computer screen. Back to September 31st, 202X, 11:50 pm. 

Maybe… maybe it’s not a dream…

『00:04』

Maybe the Angel was the path to take on, like, you murdered two in a dream(Which you are still questioning if it was real.) and another was arrested. Like, she can’t be killed or arrested. Right?

-

You had to fucking jinxed it. YOU HAD TO.

As Ronin was going to your house, the clock hit 3:25 pm and it was back to square one. Back to the beginning, getting that same invite. 

『00:05』

What if saving them worked, what if not being manipulated and fucking everything up. To try and save them.

Would it work? 

Ronin? You made out in the alleyway and him saying your book was good, and that he loved you.

Back to square one.

Misaki, you didn’t call her, didn’t indulge their call. They came out alive and you guys were having an amazing time. 

Back to the computer and hearing that dreadful ping.

V, you didn’t get him arrested, he stayed at your place for a while, and when he said your book was great. 

Another tally to this just being a dream, right? 

Right?

And with Angel, she shot her manager. Her bloody lips kissing while you help her clean up. The moment you are in bed, you are back into your own chair, staring at the fucking blinding screen. 

It didn’t work.

『00:09』

What about them getting arrested? That had to be it. The good ending. It had to be.

The text for everyone, that they should hide, was scary to you. It felt real. No one is dying nor falling in love. This had to be it.

You shut your eyes while on your bed. March 10, 202XX. Taking a breath. This had to be it…. But it wasn’t. Your eyes saw the search engine and your socials with the red dot. 

This is a time loop. Isn’t it?

『00:10』

Seeing your computer again, and the awful ping sound. You were sick of this. You were in a time loop, now… how to get out of this? Like, there had to be. 

Joining the server again, guessing the password right, you knew what would happen, the text and the welcoming. 

You just stared at your bright, digital device as you sighed. Until… an idea popped in your head. This is a time loop. You go back in time 9 times already. What if… you go the way you wanted?

You decide to flirt with Ronin again, play his games, but be corrupted just like him. 

-

It was December, and you stood in this alleyway alone with a corpse. He was an asshole to you throughout the night. You were just walking around when he decided to try and pursue you. You sit on a crate looking at the body, in your past time lines, you looked a lot into murder, the ways people killed, how they disposed, their alibis. You could take one out of Angel’s book and eat him. You never had human meat. You knew some of the effects of eating your own kind. You twiddled your weapon in your hands, a metal rod that was nearby when you attacked him. It was rusted, but now stained with blood. 

It’s also weird to you, you thought when you killed someone with your own bare hands, in your own accord, it would be different. Not… emotionless, like now. You got off the crate and walked closer to the dead person. His head was bleeding quite a lot. Heck, you smashed his head in, to the point you could see his brains. Maybe you could pin it on someone, put the weapon in another’s hands. 

“Now that's a sight for the divine.”

You turn your head to see Ronin, his crowbar was also stained in red. His grin was widder, more sinful in your taste. The man you fell for the first timeline, the original. His combat boots were loud as he took a step forward to you. 

His chuckle pierced your heart again. His warm hand coddled your cheek, his thumb wiping the blood off of you. 

“You might steal my heart by stealing this view, Darlin’.”

You proved yourself, proved that you do kill. And this time, not him. You leaned into his hand, the warmth that radiated off of him. 

“Not some pretty little innocent writer, huh?”

You could hear his grin. His pride and ego. As much as you hated it. You loved it. 

“Let me help finish up here, then we can talk. I want to know everything.”

𓆩☠︎︎𓆪

You told Ronin everything, well, except for the whole time loop thing, and him dying in the first timeline. Why did you kill that asshole and how? You dropped the stained metal rod into garbage. One that would be thrown out in the morning, before the body gets found. 

He holds you close to him, holding your shoulder. Like he’s teaching you. He is guiding you to somewhere. But where?

“You did so well, lost, little lamb.” Lost, little lamb… you pondered on that nickname, you were never called that before. Maybe instead of being called a fallen angel, but it's now ‘little lamb’. You changed a major course and still got his love. You didn’t guess his name, and went straight to him, falling more in love with you. And it’s December, anytime before you start dating, it was February, or a major change was in March, ‘the ending’.

You decided to see how far you can take with these timelines. How far can it take you?

“Ronin…” You mumbled out softly, you looked at him. You finally see that it was snowing. “I…” Your feelings from the original time loop were burning again. You remember that any person you flirt with would date you in February, not December. So you couldn’t take it so far, right?

“I really like you, Ronin.” You blurted out. That was not what you wanted to say. You felt your face burn up. Even he was shocked that you said that before he started laughing. 

“Tell it to me proudly and with no shame, huh?” His grip was tighter, his smile had joy in it. Not like a joke, but with pride. “Can you carve out your own aorta then? Give it to me on a platter.” 

Your face burns as blood rushes through, but you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

-

It was a week after your first kill. Your first kill of your accord. Ronin seemed to act more romantically towards you. He was also acting kinder to you in his own sadistic way. He even brought you to his killings as dates. Everything seems to be going your way for months. Until March 10th. The day you return back. 

You were feeling sentimental, you didn’t know if you were going back yet. You were laying on Ronin’s bed, next to him. He was surprisingly asleep, he was busy the day before working at his job, late as well. Some rich guy needed his car fixed right away. Paying double to get it fixed right away. 

He was holding you to his chest, his hand was in your hair. Your arms were around him. You were wishing to stay there in his arms. The clock was ticking down, closer and closer… Your eyes shut, it was only Ronin’s breathing that filled the quiet. 

Then Ping!

You were back in your uncomfortable desk chair, in front of the screen.

『00:19』

You felt nothing, any sweet moments you had with anyone were gone again. No one knows, no one that can help you. You felt despair. The moments with V, him holding you, or tending to his animals with, Angel, helping her manage, or just doing her makeup for a video. Misaki, the moments planning an assassination, or having dumb, loveable dates with them. Or Ronin, learning how to fix a car and giving him tools, or playing on his Gameboy with him. 

They felt nothing to you. If this was timeloop, repeating over and over. You are gonna take control, not what ifs anymore, you want to see how far this can go. Killing Angel’s manager way too early to support her, or sending Misaki anonymous messages on their assassin request board that they are great and to keep it up. Helping V by capturing the killers he was planning to find and tie them up for him. Except for Ronin, and for Ronin. What if you carve out aortas and left them in his alleyway. You want to see how chaotic you can make these timeloops be. Because whoever put you here, you won’t be trapped with them, but they will be trapped with you. No matter how insane you get. 

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ * ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

I have more to come, wrote a few already but thought to share what I have. Sorry if it seem dramatic or confusion. It was meant to be that way. (1/?)

Words: 2,233

[rotthepoet]

Pookie pookie lemme tell u ☹️ I ughhh like Lorenzo so much (not as much as I like u ofc wink wonk w rizz 🌚) but I would neverrrrrr irl entertained the idea of being w him (bros a s-tier asshole)

SO THIS GAVE ME A REQUEST IDEA

There's Lorenzo who's...well Lorenzo. And then there's us 😻 the it-girl 😻 academic weapon, got our life together, ambitious n too smart to fall for Lorenzo's bs and won't give him the time of our day🤞😩

Essentially I'm saying I'm craving for a girl boss x pathetic Lorenzo trope n headcanons ☹️

Btw that new Mattheo fic was so intense got me fanning my face

- 🎹

ONG BABES IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO BUT IM HERE FOR YOU NOW POOKIE!!!

Because Lorenzo thinks he is ALL THAT and some, when in reality hes just a pretty face with rizz. Hes not a genius, and his personality doesnt offer any redeeming qualities, so when he sees you??? God youre so perfect. Absolutely everything he wants, everything he wants to be. You’d make him look perfect, he’d be perfect next to you

Lowkey his pining after you is a power move before it fails and he becomes unequivocally whipped.

He’s literally on his knees begging for you, offering to carry your bag or books between classes, i mean he is TRYING SO DAMN HARD

But you’re independent, pookie. You are a GIRL BOSS!! YOU DONT NEED HIS SHIT!

And so Enzo tries a different approach. Buying your love! Every single day, without fail, you have a new present. A new necklace, a new perfume, a new dress, and these things are not cheap in any way. He is trying to SPOIL YOU and when you so humbly ask him to take it back, he refuses, and says he’ll only take them back if you agree to a date with him.

At least the gifts are cute, because thats not happening.

And fuck he’s becoming so pathetic for you, going out of his way to be a gentleman for you. Holding open doors, paying for your bill at the three broomsticks.

Maybe if hes lucky, you’ll give him a little kiss on the cheek for being so sweet.

[changenameno]

Criminal Offence (One Shot)

(Complete)

Summary: Maybe you shouldn’t have been so cocky this time around? Now you’ve been caught by the two men, you had outsmarted so often, it had become laughable… No need to say they were more than a little smug about finally having you in their clutches.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Fem. Assassin Reader, Captain Syverson x Fem. Assassin Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, death, murder, cursing, she/her pronouns for reader, degradation, size kink/strength kink, spanking as punishment, teasing, pet names, blowjob, rough sex, p in v, praise kink

Wordcount: 5K

A/N: I’m so so sorry this took so long, were a few very stressful weeks with exams ahead and everything. But at the very least this is a little longer than usually.🙈😅

Btw. this was inspired by one of the mood boards of my lovely friend @livesinfantasyland !This awesome moodboard in particular… Thank you, babe🥰✨

Hope you all enjoy. As always this is not proofread, any mistake is my own. I appreciate every comment and reblog. Thanks❤️✨

!Neither the Captain nor the Detective are mine!

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

It was just too damn easy. You had a front row seat to the drama about to take place. Not that you didn’t know what would happen, but still it didn’t take the fun out of it.

The complete and utter psychopath they had in custody, did not deserve to live. He’d butchered hundreds of people with sick pleasure and all he got was a prison sentence. The government decided he was invaluable, had a lot of inside knowledge. Though it wasn’t justice, therefore making him your next target.

You’d done this job for god knows how long, it paid well enough. But only recently had you gained attention from the public eye. As you’d killed three, sick psychopaths just like him, even though they had been under the utmost protection.

It was embarrassing how easy it had been for you, just like today.

For a couple of years now, even before the public knew of you as the ‘psychopath killer’, a special force had become alive to catch you. They could call themselves special all they wanted, they still weren’t even close to catching you.

If it weren’t for two, annoyingly handsome men, they wouldn’t even know that the deaths hadn’t been a coincidence.

Namely one Detective Walter Marshall and one Captain Jaxon Syverson.

You hated them with a passion. Because it had become so much harder to do your job and trick those two.

That’s why you reveled in the show about to take place, binoculars pressed against your face.

Their ‘prisoner’ was seated on a chair, handcuffed and arms behind the backrest. Every person in the room, severely armed. Syverson and Marshall weren’t in the room, they had been posted outside, to make sure no one could enter.

Though there was no need for you to enter anyhow.

Just then the psychopath, began to visibly pale. But he made no attempt to communicate his rising panic.

The other men posted inside the room, hadn’t even noticed anything amiss just yet.

Only when the prisoner suddenly opened his mouth, presumably to groan something incomprehensible. A second later, shocked guards began shouting, as the man had doubled over, not moving any more.

Dead.

Curtesy of yours truly. Aka your favorite poison, that you had managed to administer hours ago.

When the captain and detective stormed inside, alerted by the commotion, you could practically feel their rage rolling of them in hot waves, even though you were more than a safe distance away. Their faces were priceless.

Every. Single. Time. You’d outsmarted the most skillful men in the task force.

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

Soon you grew a little bored of the cat and mouse game. That’s why today’s stunt was a bit reckless.

Normally you gleefully watched as the officers failed time and again, from a safe distance.

Today was different. Wearing an officers uniform for one, was definitely something you hadn’t done before.

You had been personally posted within the hotel room by none other than Marshall himself.

Three other officers were in the room with you, which made it a bit more difficult to inject the poison this time. But you had succeeded half an hour ago. Not even the psycho herself had noticed, still calmly sitting on the sofa.

You kept your eyes on her, watching for the first signs that the poison had worked through her system. And sure enough, her eyes widened.

Suddenly the door was ripped open, and an enraged looking Syverson entered, barking loudly, “Fuck! It’s too late. Just found the fuckin’ syringe…Not again…fuck!!”

That surprised you, because you’d thought you’d hid the syringe rather well, but you didn’t let it show on your face. Heart beating just as calmly as ever.

He stormed over to the sofa, tilting her head back but she only whimpered, breathing shallowly.

“Who did this to you? Tell me!!!”

But she was already beyond being able to answer. Syverson wasn’t having it though, shaking her limp body, continuing to yell at her, “Tell me!!!”

Strong arms pulled him back, your gaze shifted upwards, landing on Marshall, as he tried to pull the captain back from the body.

“Officer a little help here!” His stormy eyes betraying his own anger as he growled at you.

You jumped into action, quickly helping him, to pull Syverson away from the sofa.

When you felt all that raw muscle move beneath your hands, you swallowed thickly. It was time you got out of there. Syverson alone could overpower you with just one of those enormous arms of his.

Finally he stopped struggling, grunting out, “Fine. Ya can let go. I’m calm, I’m calm.”

Marshall loosed his grip and stepped back, but you had been so focused on the animalistic display of strength, your hands were still on Syverson’s biceps.

Only when his ocean blue eyes fell on your face, did you notice and let go of his arm as if burned.

He didn’t stop staring at your face though. His fiercer gaze pinning you in place. Making it impossible for you to properly breathe, thus your heart rate briefly dropped before picking up to an unhealthily fast rhythm.

Why was he still staring?!

Marshall’s rough voice broke the silence and with it the intense staring contest you had been caught in, “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

The captain finally averted his gaze and looked back at Marshall, “Fine. I’ll wait in the car. Can’t stand to witness this shit again.”

“Alright I’ll join you in a bit.”

Syverson nodded, then he turned around again, addressing you to your horror, “Are ya doin’ okay?” When you only stared at him blankly, he added,” You don’t look so good.”

Shit your sheer panic must have shown on your face, you’d have to play it cool now.

Voice a lot less cool than you’d liked you breathed,” Yeah, I’m fine…” Both men fixed you with a glare, until you realised that you’d forgotten something, “I’m fine, Sir. Thank you for asking.”

Marshall tilted his head slightly, mustering you just like his colleague had done before.

“Why don’t you stay with the Captain a while longer? He may not seem like the obvious choice to calm someone down, but he’s rather good at it, believe me.”

Fuck, oh fuck. You were so fucked!

You couldn’t very well refuse, so you simply nodded and followed Syverson out of the room, downstairs and into the waiting car.

Once you’d settled a bit, he tried to get a conversation going, though your rising terror made it hard to get your brain to cooperate.

“Haven’t seen you around before, are ya new?”

“Um, no…I’m not new just…um…new to this whole situation…”

One of his thick eyebrows shot up, “Yeah? No offence, but you don’t strike me as someone with loads of experience in these kinda situations anyway.”

God why, couldn’t your heart calm the fuck down already. You couldn’t think straight. And more importantly you really didn’t want to converse with the humongous man crammed into the car seat beside you.

“Mmh no. I just… I don’t do so well with death…is all…” That was the most outrageous lie you’d ever told anyone, to your relive though, his eyes flickered down to your shaking hands and he seemed to buy your story.

Sooner than you’d expected, the drivers door opened and Marshall sat down. Without another word he started the motor and drove off. It was quite late already, street lamps and neon signs the only light source at this hour.

The drive was uneventful. Though there had been a moment that should have stricken you as odd, but unfortunately it didn’t rouse suspicion.

The moment had been so fleeting. Marshall had stopped at a red light, blue eyes meeting with Syverson’s through the rear-view mirror but a millisecond and then the moment was gone again.

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

When you arrived at the precinct, the two men lead you inside. You didn’t know which precinct you’d been brought too, but it was weird that you didn’t see another human being as you walked deeper and deeper into the lion’s den.

Your muscles were so tense, you had to concentrate, to avoid stumbling over your own feet. The sinking feeling in your stomach didn’t help and neither did the looming presence of the grumpy detective behind you.

Syverson suddenly stopped in front of a nearby cell and turned around. His grin was mean, when he asked, “I’ve got a question for ya, officer. Care to tell me your name?”

Heart rabbiting inside your chest as you tried to swallow around the tight feeling in your throat, they knew. And worse yet, this was such a stupid reason to have been caught by. You hadn’t checked the damed name tag on your uniform.

And they knew. Fuck.

Unwilling to admit defeat, you attempted to glance down inconspicuously, but a rough hand quickly curled around your throat, lifting your chin. The detective had stepped forward, leaning in dangerously close, growling lowly against your ear, “Uh-uh. No cheating.”

Your traitorous body decided the perfect moment to be aroused, was now. Wetness forming between your thighs.

They truly revelled in their victory over you, as Syverson urged, “Go on, pet, tell us your name.”

You knew you’d lost, but you whispered the first name, that came to mind, “Al-alexa.”

Marshall’s warm breath against your neck, reminded you of a lion’s maw, playing with its prey before sinking its fangs into their flesh. Then he taunted, “Mmh, yeah Alexa. Alexa who?!”

“Alexa…Alexa Pride…”

Syverson chuckled darkly, “Maybe I need glasses then…because,” he reached out and forcefully ripped the name tag from your uniform,” because I thought this read ‘Eddy Morris’.”

There it was, the smug grin of a lion taunting its prey’s stupidity.

Marshall added sarcastically,” Well as fun as this was. I’m afraid it has to end and now.” He nodded to the cell.

The captain swiftly unlocked it, and Marshall pushed you inside, after he took the pistol out of your holster. Any chance of escape now impossible.

You stumbled into the gloomy looking room and whirled around when the metal door fell loudly shut. To your shock, you weren’t alone as you had expected, no, both men had entered the already small room with you. Blocking the door entirely.

“Do you realise how much trouble you’ve caused us?”

Carful not to provoke them even more, you nodded slowly, biting your lip for good measure.

“Ah admittin’ to it at last, huh?”

You didn’t dare react in any way, as you still had no clue as to why they were in the cell with you. Though your horny brain provided you with enough naughty ideas, it’d make the most stoic Viking blush.

Marshall stepped forward, hand gesturing behind you, “I think a little chat is overdue don’t you?”

“Why don’t ya sit your lil’ arse down, mmh?!”

A minimal tilt of Syverson’s head told you, it wasn’t a question, you had to obey or else.

Reluctantly you sat down on the hard bench, dressed up as bed.

Both men were now leaning against the wall across from you, burly arms crossed in front of their equally broad chests.

Of course that didn’t help calm your raging horniness. If anything looking up at their muscled form, made your pussy pulse with want.

You slowly let your eyes roam over them, resting on Marshall’s hand, which was still clutching ’your’ pistol. His hand dwarfed the weapon, nearly hiding it from view entirely.

He followed your line of sight, having come to the wrong conclusion, he shook his head, tutting, “No, no. You’re not getting that thing back. So quit staring.”

Feeling caught you lowered your head in embarrassment, flinching violently when a hand suddenly tilted your chin upwards once more.

Syverson’s blue eyes crinkling in mirth, as he noticed you couldn’t hold his intense stare.

“Mmh look at ya. All quiet and timid. Where’s all that fire from before, mmh?”

That snapped you out of it, angrily shoving him in the chest as hard as you could. It irked you immensely that he barely seemed to move. He only removed his hand from your face, but out of his own volition rather than your meekly shove.

Marshall squatted down in front of you, “Don’t think the fire is extinguished just yet, Sy.”

“No shit.”

If it weren’t for your miserable predicament, you’d have laughed at their interaction. Instead you scooted back on the stone-like mattress, pulling your knees in, hugging them close to your chest. Trying to understand what was happening.

“Ah no hidin’ away now, pet.”

You spat back, “I’m not your pet!”

Syverson mirrored the detective’s position, squatting down but he reached out and placed his hand on your ankle. Your brain couldn’t keep up, with the movement, unable to react in time. He aggressively pulled you closer until you nearly fell off the bed, luckily Marshall’s hand on your shoulder steadied you.

Your legs hung down, sandwiched between their thick thighs. Breath coming quicker in your startled excitement, you couldn’t help yourself, the display of strength turned you on that much more.

“So.”

Trying to keep your wits about you, you glared at them, hissing, “What was that for? What do you want?!”

Suddenly Marshall’s hand was descending from your shoulder, trailing down, down, down. Stopping dangerously close to your overheating centre. Four of his fingers squeezed the inside of your thigh, while his thumb nearly grazed the place you wanted his touch most.

He whispered, “We are asking the questions here, sweetheart.”

Syverson mirrored Marshall’s position once again, big hand now also resting on your other thigh. Pulling a desperate whimper from you with his next words,” So, tell us pet. What is it, that you want?”

You couldn’t hold back, the words simply tumbled out of your mouth,” Fu-uck. Are you serious?”

He couldn’t mean what you thought he meant, right? Sweet Jesus you were hoping he meant exactly what your mind had conjured up, in great and depraved detail.

You’d sounded so out of breath it was pathetic and yet the detective sounded equally breathy when he confirmed, “The police are always serious. Also, you did a real bad job, hiding your thoughts from us. Lovely display, but surely not a good pokerface.”

“Come on! Spit it out, Walt.”

“Will you be patient?” He glared daggers at the other men, and only continued when Sy didn’t comment anything else.

“As I was saying, before the crude interruption.” Marshall paused again, then finally ‘spat it out’, “ Your eyes betrayed you. Undressing us the second, you knew you were screwed.”

Sy couldn’t contain himself any longer, growling,” Speak of the devil. Screwin’ ya, would be the key words here. Get where I’m goin’ with this, pet?”

His thumb pressed now plainly between your legs, causing you to gasp as more slick escaped your opening. Your hand gripped onto his wrist, causing him to retract his hand, though you pulled him only harder against you.

“Sweetheart?”

Your eyes fell onto Marshall’s concerned face, “Need you to agree, do you want-?”

You didn’t let him finish, before interrupting, “Yes! Please! Want- Need you both. Pl-ease.”

“Atta girl, got some manners after all.”

“Suck.” Marshall’s thumb had left its place and he was now pressing it between your lips. You complied, opening your mouth and promptly began sucking his thumb deeper into your hot cavern.

“Aargh, that’s it. Just like that, sweetheart. Only getting you warmed up for the real deal.”

The captain was clearly more impulsive out of the two of them, impatiently opening your pants, and pulling them roughly down your legs. He didn’t care that he couldn’t remove them completely. The next second, they hung already forgotten around your booted feet.

He kneeled for better access, pushing his nose directly into your wet panties. Your mewl was answered by his animalistic grunt. “Smell just as good as ya look. Need a taste. May I?”

Surprised that they were so considered still, you quickly nodded your head, yes. Nearly biting down on Marshall’s thumb, when the captain ripped your panties off your body. Throwing the irritating material somewhere behind him.

His finger slipped teasingly through your dripping folds, making you suckle harder around the detective’s finger. Syverson meanly tapped against your clit a few times, just to ignite more heat, more desperation, before he moved on to the main event.

When you felt Sy’s tongue swipe between your legs, your teeth accidentally clamped down.

“Aargh. Fuck, relax, relax, darling!”

Marshall sounded more turned on than actually hurt, but you quickly opened your mouth anyway. He slowly retracted his thumb, wiping off the leftover spit on the sheet. Then he unceremoniously pulled the rest of the uniform from your upper body.

“What are sight you are!”

You had forgone a bra today, so you were now utterly on display. But you could barely concentrate on his words, as Syverson’s mouth seemed to devour you whole.

You let yourself fall backwards, hand trying to press his head even closer against your weeping pussy. Unfortunately they chose now, to turn on you, Syverson pulled back, beard soaked with your juices. He grinned condescendingly down at you, when you whimpered at the loss of his tongue.

Marshall cooed, “Ah, ah don’t get greedy now. At the very least you’ve got to make it up to us, don’t you think?”

The captain smacked his lips together, then said, “I’d reckon, a punishment is in order, no?”

You stared at them, exasperated. What? How could they get you all hot and bothered and then talk about a punishment?!

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Syverson’s hand smacked your thigh, and a deliciously, painful current wound up your leg, making your clit pulse excitedly.

Oh? That kind of punishment.

“Better behave, before your punishment get’s any worse girl.”

You nodded meekly.

“What do ya think Walt, ten?”

‘Walt’, considered the captain’s question for a moment then nodded, “Yeah ten is a good number to start with. We can add to it, if our little pet misbehaves again.”

Your eyes widened, hoping you hadn’t agreed to something you’d regret later. But the pleasant heat constantly tingling through your nether regions, told you enough. You really wanted this.

“Sound’s fair, to me. So little dove, better turn around, to receive your punishment then, huh?”

You felt quite literally, more exposed than ever before, though you still rolled around onto your stomach and got on all fours. Presenting your rear even more, when you lowered your torso to the mattress.

The light, pat on your arse, made you flinch because you hadn’t seen Syverson’s hand.

“Mmh, what a lovely response time. Quite sensitive ain’t ya?”

His hand caressed your skin for a moment, then you heard him step back, “Wanna do the honor, Detective?”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

And without another warning, he brought down his hand on your left cheek. The harsh crack, sounded incredibly loud to your own ears as did the shriek you let loose at the painful impact.

“Nnmghf.”

“What was that, sweetheart,” Marshall purred meanly.

You huffed, then mumbled a quick, “Nothing.”

“That’s right, nothing. Good girls, take their punishments quietly. Think you can manage?”

Apparently nodding hadn’t been enough as another hard spank landed on your ass, he growled again, “Think you can manage?!”

You cried out, fingers digging into the sheet, “Y-yes.”

Crack.

Pained mewl falling on deaf ears, “Yes, what!?”

Body thrilled with the harsh treatment, you felt how wet your thighs had become in a matter of seconds, as Syverson’s hand smoothed over the area.

“Come on pet, ya can do better than that.”

Pressing your forehead into the mattress your body buzzed with renewed eagerness as you replied, “Sorry. I… Yes I think I can manage…”

“What a good girl. Well done sweetheart, just seven more to go.”

Marshall landed them without mercy and with deadly precision on your behind. One after the other.

The last spank, was by far the hardest and you had to bite your lip to keep quiet.

Sy’s hand patted your head, “Good. Such a good girl for us.”

Then Marshall gently lifted you up and placed you between his thighs, as he sat down on the mattress. The rough fabric of the sheets burned on your skin, but not in an entirely bad way.

He surprised you as he placed a kiss on your temple, whispering,” All done. Did so good, sweetheart.”

You had to giggle, because his bead had ticked your ear.

“What a darlin’ girl ya are.”

He smiled down at you, lifting your chin, so you had to look into his startling, blue eyes, “Who’s gonna get that sweet snatch of yours, mmh? Your decision, pet.”

Slowly you blinked up at him, trying to decide. Sy saw you had difficulty making up your mind, chuckling,” I meant, who’s gonna get you first. Me or Walter?”

“Walter.”

The detective didn’t hesitate, big paws already roaming over your front, tweaking your nipples for good measure, “ Glad to go first, sweetheart.”

He lay one hand against your collarbones pressing you into his firm chest, while his other unmistakably shoved his pants down.

“Spread your legs.”

Sweet humiliation burned through you, as you hadn’t reacted quick enough and Syverson unceremoniously pried them apart. Holding them open, at least as much as your pants, still sitting around your ankles, would allow.

You felt rather than saw the thick cock gliding back and forth between your wetness. Catching once, twice on your twitching hole.

“Fucking hell, you’re so wet. Can just..,”and with that his cock head finally breached your cunt, as he grunted out the rest of the sentence,” go right i-in.”

And he didn’t wait, thrusting upwards, he buried himself to the hilt, cursing again when your walls spasmed around his throbbing cock.

You felt yourself leaking, so turned on, you were literally dripping down onto his jeans. Fingers digging into the detective’s arms, trying to ground yourself.

“Open your eyes pet.”

When you did, you moaned loudly at the sight in front of you.

There he stood, big glistening cock out of his trousers, hand pumping up and down slowly, predatory eyes pinning you in place.

“Like what ya see?”

Instead of answering you only panted desperately.

Walt replied in your stead,” Sweet, little cunt is trying to strangle my cock…that answer your question?”

His pleased groan was followed by a deep seated circle of his hips, grinding his pelvis into your clit. Your pussy was clenching wildly, fingers digging even harder into his arm.

At some point they had apparently switched positions, because now Walt’s strong hands held you open by your knees. While Sy stepped ever closer, his expression had grown completely feral.

He came to a stop between your spread legs, his cock dangling invitingly close to your lips.

“Gonna test your multitasking skills, dove.”

Knowing exactly what he wanted you obediently opened your mouth. He first fed you his cock head then without waiting, inch by girthy inch entered your mouth, until you gagged slightly and he relented. Praising you all the while.

“Oh fuck your mouth was made for this. Such a good girl.”

Walt didn’t want to wait anymore so he started to thrust his hips up, immediately choking you on Syverson’s cock.

It felt electrifying, getting spit roasted between those big guys. You were in heaven.

Every moan around the intrusion in your mouth, made Syverson groan loudly, as the sounds trying to leave your throat, teased his swollen cock head mercilessly.

While you felt Walt hitting you deeper and deeper with every thrust. The knot inside you started to grow tighter and tighter.

The only sounds audible in the small room, where wet slaps of skin against skin, groans and grunts of pleasure.

“Fuck sweetheart, so good. Gonna cum soon.”

Syverson made it impossible to answer, fucking your face in earnest now. But the rhythmic clenching of your cunt let Walt now you where just as close.

Someone’s hand had snuck down, manipulating your little bundle of nerves just right. It was too much, not enough and so good at the same time. You soon toppled over the edge, gurgling unintelligible around the cock booking your airway.

Pussy clenching down so tightly, Walt followed you over the edge, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. Pain mixing with the onslaught of pleasure still wrecking your body.

Syverson suddenly pulled back, barking at the other man,” Pull out, my turn!”

So dazed you didn’t even protest when the detective pulled out, white, hot cum running out of your pussy.

Syverson was so eager for his turn, he ripped you out of Walt’s arms. Swiftly laying you onto your back, pushing your knees to your shoulders and just as swiftly his fat cock entered your cunt with one hard thrust forward.

You keened at the overstimulation, though he just cooed down at you, “Be a good little pet and cum one more time on my cock.”

You wailed as he started pounding into you, rubbing against your sensitive clit. The impact bordering on painful but then a rough thumb tweaked your nipple deliciously and the most intense orgasm swept over you.

Cunt gushing around Syverson’s battering ram, and at last he pushed as deep as he could before coming inside your weeping pussy.

“Did so good…fuck just so perfect for us. Take everything inside just like that. Atta girl.”

All you could do was slowly blink up at him, as he caressed your cheek with such tenderness you could have fallen asleep just like that. Squished beneath this behemoth, filled to the brim and utterly satisfied.

The next few minutes of him pulling out, them wiping you down and getting you dressed, just flew over your head. Still completely boneless, you just let them do their thing. Here and there you heard them murmuring some sweet praises.

“Sweetheart, you took it so well.”

“Just relax, atta girl, let us take care of ya.”

“Sleep well.”

You fell asleep even before they exited the small cell, not even hearing the click of the door being locked.

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

When you woke up, you felt a bit disoriented at first but quickly remembered where you were and what had happened.

Smirk growing on your swollen lips, as something small and cold, dug into the palm of your hand.

Maybe getting caught wasn’t as awful as you’d have thought. You got up, on wobbling legs, making your way to the metal door.

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

ONE WEEK LATER

Unprompted the door of his office flew open, revealing his partner, who swiftly shut the door once he was inside.

Syverson raised on of his thick eyebrows, as Walter sauntered over and came to a halt in front of his desk.

“So it was a weird little coincidence that we caught her in the first place, wasn’t it?”

“Mmh, why’d ya think that?”

“I certainly didn’t notice the name tag amiss and even then, I probably wouldn’t have paid it any attention. But you? You saw it immediately didn’t you?”

The captain mused about his words for a moment, trying to gauge what Walter knew, before he simply settled on asking, “What are ya getting at Marshall?” A hidden warning in the way he’d addressed him so formally this time.

Walter’s expression was still relaxed, seemingly enjoying the way he got a rise out of him.

“Oh I’m getting there. You wanna know the second, little coincidence I’ve noticed?,” to Sy’s annoyance, he paused for dramatic effects, until he finally continued,” The key wasn’t anywhere near her, when I’ve locked the door on our way out. So how’d she get her hands on it? Weird, wouldn’t you agree?”

He had to hand it to him, Walter was one fine detective, though Sy didn’t yet know where to go from here.

But he had enough of this game, he stood up slowly, menacingly. Hands flat on his desk. Eyes narrowed at the detective in front of him, while his strong jaw was working furiously. One of his many mannerisms, you’d lovingly teased him about before.

His tell.

Patience running thin.

“Don’t like repeating’ myself. Spit it out!”

The answer however, took Sy by surprise, “I. Want. In.”

“Come again?!” He straightened his back, staring at him in disbelief.

“Don’t play dumb Captain, doesn’t suit you. I want in. She’s our pet now. Our’s or nothing.”

Syverson had to suppress his grin. So that’s what Walter wanted, a piece of you.

He should have known, once wouldn’t suffice. After all back then, once hadn’t been enough for him either. From the very beginning of their more than unconventional relationship, she’d weaselled her way right into his heart. Special spot now reserved only for her.

He nodded, but warned Walter, “Alright. Though have to warn ya, lil’ pet still makes up her own mind. And she’s stubborn at that.”

Walter didn’t feel the need to suppress his own, amused expression, when he agreed, “Yes, thought as much. But I think that’s just one of her bewitching characteristics. Gotta love a challenge.”

Syverson’s lips twitched upwards, “Yeah. Bewitching in more than one way, our lil’ pet.”

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

Taglist:

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨

[thebonsaibadass]

Ultimately I think we missed A LOT (at least of what I wanted to see) in between part two and part three this season.

It’s really just Kreese actually; that was a big statement. Like we open part three with him already having mostly deconstructed his old ideology. That’s a lot of mental work. It almost felt empty when he said Kwon’s death was his fault. This would reframe everything that he’s ever done and everything that has ever happened to him. Kreese should’ve been grieving, not Kwon necessarily, but everything else he only now realizes that he lost and the pain he caused. That would’ve been interesting imo (even more than his actual “redemption” but I get not having a lot of time.

And if they delved into that, it would’ve made his redemption seem a lot more at odds with the way they also use part three to redeem the Cobra Kai philosophy. But it’s still contradictory btw. We still noticed. Check out this post from @robbyykeene please because it reminded me I wanted to post about missing Kreese’s actual development process.

Also, speaking of grieving, we never got to see Tory truely grieve her mother. I thought we were gonna see her break a little bit and actually be comforted this time. I would’ve loved to see that too. Instead it’s basically not mentioned that her mom is dead???

I NEED to know how much time passed between the captain fights and the Sekai Taikai because there’s different negative implications depending on if that was a short or long time.

[nic0-r0bs]

I am writing my 7DS fanfiction about the other Arthurian knights and legends.

But since I have to tie it up with NNT, I am re-writing some of the canon scenes. And since it got me thinking, I've decided to change a thing or two:

CHARACTERS

- Meliodas won't be groping Elizabeth every other second because SHE IS A MINOR AND HE'S KNOWN HER SINCE SHE WAS A CHILD, I DON'T CARE IF THEY'VE MET IN A HUNDRED LIVES, IT'S GROSS. I will have him respectfully keep distance, looking at her with love more than lust, partly because he doesn't want Elizabeth to get her memories back so soon by falling in love with him. When she will get her memories back, he'll be touchy as he wants (which is, a lot).

- He'll look a bit older too. I understand that he was supposed to represent the usual shonen teenage protagonist, but I don't see the issue, actually. He'll still be a short king, of course, because we need short kings.

- Diane won't be portrayed as a 15-year-old girl mentally. Just… no. She's 1500 Years and a mercenary, I refuse to have her behave like a child (and then having seven children). Her crush on Meliodas will be more mature, too.

- Elaine will look a bit older. I mean, like Meliodas, short people who look younger exist and are totally valid, but she's p3do bait and just… no.

- Mael will be central because I find that his character arc had SO MUCH MORE potential but they kinda just... forgot him? But it would have been so interesting to see him dealing with PTSD and paranoia, not knowing if what he sees and experiences is real or not, and all the moral dilemma lf finding out that he's been raised to be a weapon but everything he believed in was a lie. Also he never truly wanted to fight and k1ll, but then he committed atrocities while being Estarossa and... I don't know, I think it would have been great seeing him having a proper development and healing. Because I fell in love with 7DS because everyone there is a sinner, everyone is evil somehow, everyone committed something terrible (with the only exception of Howzer), but we learn to love and root for those characters because they're complex... Or at least used to be.

- Also it would be nice to explore Gowther gender identity and expression and make it more complex, wouldn't it?

WORLDBUILDING

- Since all my OCs are described wearing things that would be common in the VI century (around Arthurian period, "historically" speaking) (btw, I've had fun seeing what Celts were wearing during that time… Women were fighters and would also wear trousers), or, at least, in a fantasy setting, the original characters clothes will be a bit different, too. The Boar Hat uniform will be different, because I refuse to let Meliodas lewd on an innocent and clueless sixteen-year-old Elizabeth.

- Regarding the lore… I had a bit of fun. In my fanfiction, the Sacred Tree will be a "spawn" of Yggdrasil. I imagine Chaos creating the Universe with different worlds and the Yggdrasil connecting them. It just happens that one of its roots developed its own tree in Britannia, opening portarls to other realms: the Demon realm (in Cornwall, since in Arthurian era there were the Dumnonii, whose name resemble the word "Demon"); the Sky realm (both of Goddess clan and of the Celestials); the Fairy realm (the Tree being a portal) and the Giants realm (Megadoza stone being a portal).

- Also, there are the Ragnarok chapters in the mobile game, so that's the perfect excuse to put them there as well.

- Since there's different "parallel universes" I've also thought that time will pass differently in different realms. Faster in Britannia and slower anywhere else (since also in Purgatory time flows differently). This is mainly because this Whole "I'm three thousand Years old dating a literal child in my eyes" gives me the ick. I'm talking about Meliodas, King and Elaine especially. I also find that in some cases the math doesn't add, if you look at some character's official age (I'm looking at you, Estarossa/Mael, you're even 20cm taller when you're a Demon).

- And yeah, since I like history and mythology a bit too much I may include a bit of geopolitics of the British isles in the IV century and Celtic culture as well.

Anyway, this project has been fun until now, but since I'm not writing it in a linear way, it's time to work into the canon to tie everything together.

I may write a part 2 about my OCs, in the meantime let me know if you have some headcanons which you want to share!

Also hopefully I'll post some new drawings

[gallusrostromegalus]

So for AEIWAM, how does the whole Ukitake thing work? I’m still fuzzy on how it was in the manga (and that’s not even touching the ‘epilogue’/Echoing the Jaws of Hell why are these arc names like this) but wasn’t he essentially reverse faith healed-slash-possessed for death? I see you keep mentioning gods so like- what does that whole situation make him?

I need you to imagine a Self-Propogating Cryptocurrency Mining Computer. Whenever it's hardware starts to burn out, it creates a little man to build it a new machine and port it's memory over, keeping the machine alive and solving equations.

In An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy, that's God.

I may need to back up.

If you're not familiar with how Cryptocurrency Mining works, essentially, a computer thinks very, very hard about how to solve an extremely complicated equation, and when it solves it, it gets a little bit of money (or it gets a receipt saying that it has money that uh. nobody will accept, because the money aspect is a scam but the math, at least is real).

Anyway, thinking very, very hard like that runs through the computer's hardware- it's especially hard on the graphics cards. So eventually, if it want to keep solving equations, it needs new hardware. But a computer can't replace it's own parts, and this Ultra-complex, reality-generating God-computer is no different.

So when it starts to get old and degraded, the God-Computer does a neat little trick: it builds itself a programmer. That programmer learns all about the God Machine and how it works and the way it's powered- it moves souls through three planes of existence- each enormously complicated question is representative of the shape of a lifetime- each time a soul completes it's life and is reborn, the God Computer gets a little burst of extra energy. The larger and more complex the soul and longer and richer lifetime, the more energy the God Computer gets. So for the last millions of years, many, many generations of God-computer have made the universe richer and more complicated to generate larger and more complex souls to power themself (themselves?) further.

The programmer learns all about how the God-Computer works, and sets about building the next Generation of God-Computer to keep the universe running.

Due to a slight miscommunication, the programmer is colloquially known as the "Soul King" this time around.

Anyway, the Soul King was doin' his thing, when he happened to start chatting with a cool guy online and agreed to meet up with him. And it was fun! They hung out, Soul King showed him the true nature of reality, they stayed up late eating junk food and talking bullshit, good times. Later, The Soul King's cool friend from the internet said he had some other friends who wanted to meet him, and Soul king thought "BALLER. SLUMBER PARTY!!!" and told everyone to come on over!

-and then the new guys beat the shit out of Soul King's buddy and dismembered the Soul King for parts to sell as part of an organ-harvesting scheme!

Whoops.

Now, Soul King's buddy DID manage to get up and stop one of the organ thieves, the guy absconding with his hands, and tackled him off the Balcony. One of the psuedo-god hands (the one with the power of stagnation) fell into the Spirit World,took the name "Mimihagi" and became a minor kami because he's really bad at this Witness Protection thing.

Eventually, some parents with an extremely sick kid came to the hand's shrine and asked him to save the kid, and Mimihagi went "Well, I can't cure him, but I can hang out in his body for the next few centuries and prevent his disease from getting worse with constant effort?" and they said "...Please?" and Mimihagi said "Yeah OK.

-And ever since then Ukitake has had the left hand of The God Machine's dead repairman living in him and (mostly) stopping his super-tuberculosis from getting worse, like a benevolent tapeworm!

:)

The God-Machine is still dying this whole time, BTW. Might want to do something about that.

(the best part is, that of the three-to-five-and-a-half living pieces of the Soul King, Mimihagi is actually probably the least weird and definitely sanest of them)