#this is why I think it’s SO useful to just have a doc (or several) in which you record EVERY idea you have

[six-improbable-things]

I had to open the ship combat rules doc I made for Rook's campaign the other day, and man, that thing was (and still is tbh) my fucking magnum opus. I put so much effort into creating rules for a type of combat that dnd doesn't naturally support, and it was SUCH a fun challenge. I'll admit it's not perfect, but it works for our campaign, and everyone seemed to like it during our one test so far, so that's good enough for me.

I think between the stat blocks, the rules themselves, and the maps of the ships, I spent easily 48 hours total on making this sailing arc happen. (No, I'm not the DM, I just like homebrewing shit, and also happen to be the one who decided to play a pirate and make that involved in the story.)

[marsuni]

does your doctors ever just drop something on you much later about your meds or your conditions and it explains a lot

[gravitytrips]

You are so right.

massive amount of tags below but have some good thoughts

We’ve all heard the “Scout gets too much attention” rants in the fandom but I also want to say: Scout gets too much hate.

Like, he’s decidedly NOT a coward. I have no idea where people get that from. His entire backstory is that he got fast to that he could run into danger before the fight ended. He’s got voice lines pleading for his life, but every character has voice lines where they’re weak or losing.

He’s also not that annoying to anyone but Spy (besides the people he’s killing). I’m easier on this though because it comes from gameplay habits.

Also, Scout is strong. Maybe not physically, and certainly not as much as the rest of the team, but he’s quick, acrobatic, and whip smart about surroundings. He did single handedly take on a Heavy. Sure, it was his meet-the and everyone is overpowered but still. He puts up a fight. (My favorite subversive moment of the ‘scout gets wreaked by everyone automatically’ is in Mann Swap where we see him use his skillset to match with heavy’s strength.)

It’s hilarious to punch the punching bag, ofc. But Scout is my least favorite of the main nine and it still kills me to see him in “serious” tf2 fan media with only his joke traits.

[antiadvil]

early tit shows request

I already posted this in the community tab but wanted to make a separate post so it can be shared more widely.

TLDR I’m very photosensitive and have tit tickets for November 3rd in Chicago. I would like to compile a list of the flash effects in the show and when they are before I go, so I can know when to look away. If anyone else would find this useful, I can share the list publicly. I'll put the rest under a cut because it's very long and I want any discussion via reblog chain to be legible:

why i need help:

As some of you may know because I bitch about constantly, I have chronic migraine, and one of my symptoms is photophobia that ranges from moderate to severe Literally All Of The Time. On a good day I’m able to hang out in a dim room wearing my tinted glasses and experience no light related pain but even on my best migraine days I still find very bright, flashing, or flickering lights to be very painful to look at or generally exist around. I bought a tit ticket fully knowing there would likely be flash effects in it because WAD did, many of their videos do, ii and tatinof probably did, I don’t remember, and literally every stage production I have been to in the past year did, except for an orchestra, if that counts as a stage production 😂. I literally would not be able to leave my apartment if I avoided everything that triggers my photophobia considering the Literal Sun is one of the biggest offenders so I am really not looking for people to tell me to just not go or whatever. Obviously I hope that my migraine resolves by the time my show comes around (like at least breaking down into individual episodes instead of one incredibly long migraine would be nice), and it’s possible it will, since I haven’t actually gotten to try the most promising treatments yet bc insurance bullshit, but I expect to still be dealing with this two months from now.

how you can help:

So, it would be really helpful if anyone was able to tell me about the flash effects in the show before I go. Ideally, I would like to know how many there are, how extreme they are, how long they last, and MOST ideally, approximately when in the show they happen so I can cover my eyes and look away beforehand (I’m thinking, like, “after they do abc they flash the lights,” not timestamps, since I think that would be much easier for everyone involved to remember. I know this will probably involve spoilers, I don’t mind, I’m currently planning to look at spoilers for the show). I know this is not something people with normal eyes/brains/optic nerves normally remember after shows (even my closest friends who are genuinely trying have failed to warn me about flash effects before) but I am hoping through the power of crowdsourcing i can put together a semi-complete guide to When To Look Away At Tit For Photophobic people. I can share that doc if there’s any interest in it and anyone who is able to “test drive” the document before my show would be very helpful. I’m also willing to keep making changes to the document after my show, if that’s something people would find helpful. If it is though I would really appreciate hearing from you- even if it's just an anon or something, because I'm not going to do extra work if I don't think it will reach anyone who needs it. I'm sure I'm not the only person who's planning to go to tit and just suffer through any flash effects, but I don't know if this post/the document I make will reach any of them (does anyone know if there's an accessibility/disability community on phan twitter??). My tentative plan is to share the document regardless, since it doesn't take much extra work from me, but if this is something that would benefit you please reach out so we can make sure it benefits you too.

a hopefully helpful guide to flash effects:

Another challenge is, quite frankly, most people are very bad at even noticing flash effects if they’re not photosensitive. I get it, as a newly photosensitive person I was genuinely confused about why I left across the spiderverse with such a bad headache, because nothing in it looked like a “flash effect” to me. Some things that have triggered my photophobia before that people may not think of as “flash” effects include: the snow effect in stardew valley, candles (flames in general create a very flickery light), glitch/static editing effects, the sort of stuttery/laggy way video games look when your graphics card is bad, and video that flips through photographs/backgrounds very quickly (this is worse the more different the colors/etc in the photos/backgrounds are from each other but even if it’s done in a more stopmotion kind of way it still bugs me at low FPS. It’s like the video game thing, I’m not sure if there’s an actual word for that). Another thing that commonly bothers people (personally it doesn’t hurt much though it can make me a bit motion sick) is sort of swirly “hypnotizing” gifs.

From the set photos, I think any flash effects would most likely come from the light/rope/wire things, those just look perfect for some kind of sparking/lightning effect which I imagine would be very obvious and easy to spot. The video screens could probably also be a problem but if they’re all at standard screen brightness, unless they all start being flashy at the same time, they’re a much smaller portion of the audience’s field of vision so I don’t think they would be as problematic (though I would still like to know about them!). My worst fear is that they’re playing something really staticky for the entire show, though I hope that at my distance from the stage, the static would be small enough to just kind of blend into gray and not bother me much.

in conclusion:

Yes, this could all be solved if people stopped putting so many fucking flash effects in their shows. I am begging for the entire world to realize that nine times out of ten they are Completely Not Worth It and just putting a “some flash effects may not be suitable for photosensitive viewers!!!” warning on every piece of media ever created does not make their media accessible (hey Netflix! Wanna give me a timestamp to skip or am I just expected to never watch Stranger Things?). But here we are.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Jane, Medical Technician

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sorry I’m late doctor, this ship is huge.” Jane hadn’t realized until she got on board that her quarters were halfway across the ship and a full deck up from her work station in the Med Bay. She was going to have to fabricate some more sensible shoes at this rate. She wished she could have her own synthetic tree put into the med bay, just roll outta the hammock and get straight to work, but those perks belonged to the head doctor on the ship.

“It’s fine, it’s just day one,” said Doctor Huhuma, brushing it off with a wave of her furred hand. “I think I can trust these people to go at least a week without almost dying.”

While Jane Shaw was a doctor in her own right, the head physician on board the Noah was Doctor Huhuma, an Indoprime, something akin to the moneys on E24 in the Terran system, locally called Earth. They were so similar in fact that multiple ongoing studies were being conducted to see if they had any common genetic ancestry. Indoprimes stood just as tall as humans on two legs, with two arms that hung down to their torsos. The only real difference was the fur and semi prehensile tails.

“We’ve only left the station a few hours ago, what could have happened? I think today will be quiet at least,” Jane joked. As if the universe heard her and quietly whispered ‘bet’, the door to Med Bay hissed opened and in walked one of the engineers with a thin length of pipe all the way through their arm. Their green blood was a stark contrast to their gray skin and jumpsuit, and their face was turning ashen.

“Oh for- why?” Doctor Huhuma rushed over to the fresh patient. “Thanks for that, Jinxed Jane. Grab a kit, I’ll get him on the table. You had to say the Q-word, huh?”

God damnit, Jane thought. Hours into a first shift and the nickname has already come up. Jinxed Jane had followed her all throughout her residency on Earth and apparently it’d made its way into her GAIL file too.

You accidentally bump a few nurses during surgery and they never let you forget it, she thought miserly. There was a reason she was trying to get away from people who knew her. Jinxed Jane was one of them.

She grabbed a kit from the shelves and brought it to the table, handing the med scanner to the doctor.

“Thank you…sorry. For the-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jane didn’t want to think about it.

The little gray guy on the table was breathing hard. His life wasn’t in any danger, thankfully, but the pipe was only a half inch thinner than his arm. Jane recognized his species from the crew list, he was one of the Gally. Apparently they’d been to earth a ton of times in the past, abducting cattle and occasionally leaving crop circles as a joke. They’d actually shown up so often that the Gally were the default for ‘Alien’ in pop culture in the Terran System. Throughout the Galaxy and especially the GAIL member planets, the Gally were known to be obnoxious pranksters of the highest order.

“Oouuuch,” said the Gally, wincing at the pain.

“Get him a shot of something good for the pain, this’ll take a second.” The med scanner wasn’t done compiling.

“On it.” Jane grabbed a dose of multi-species painkiller from the kit, took the cap off with her teeth, and jabbed it into his thigh. Almost immediately the Gally relaxed.

“Laser wave scalpel, please,” Doctor Huhuma asked.

“Here.” Jane handed her the tool quickly, a short cylinder tapered on one end. The doctor clicked it on and a red beam several centimeters long sprouted from the tip.

“Cover his eyes for me, this might throw sparks.”

“Got it, Doc.”

Jane grabbed a surgical mask and slipped it on the Gally’s face, then took a stainless steel tray and used it to shield their eyes. Huhuma leaned down and with one hand covering her eyes, she used the laser saw to cut the pipe as close to the skin as possible. The Gally flinched at first so Jane put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him as best she could.

The pipe fell, one end red hot, and Huhuma caught it with her tail before it hit the floor.

“Okay,” the doctor said, “easy part is done, this is where it will probably be awful for you.”

“How?” The Gally asked, speaking for the first time other than slight groans of pain.

“Why don’t you tell us your name so we can get this filed away after we’re done?”

“I’m an engineer below decks, my name is Simms of the Gall-”

Huhuma pulled the pipe out the other side of his arm, causing Simms to break off his introduction for a yelp of pain. The doctor quickly took the tissue regenerator, commonly called a Patch Box, and started closing up the wound.

“Well, Simms of the Gally, my name is Doctor Huhuma, and this is Doctor Shaw. You’re our very first patient on this ship, and let me tell you, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen before we left the system, so while I go start the paperwork, Doctor Shaw is going to finish up for me.”

Huhuma handed over the device before walking calmly into her office. Jane wasn’t sure but she thought she heard a long sigh before the door closed, but that could’ve just been the door’s hydraulics.

“I don’t believe she likes me,” Simms said.

“Oh you’re fine, she’s just…settling into the ship, I suppose. So yeah, like she said, I’m Doctor Jane Shaw, and I suppose I’ll be your doctor now, so it’s nice to meet you, though I’m wondering how you got a pipe through your arm.”

“Oh, that.” Apparently it was possible for people with gray skin to blush. They just got a little darker in the cheeks.

“I kinda deserved it. One of the other humans in engineering, Thomas I think, was doing something weird with the drone he picked up, and we thought it’d be funny to prank him.”

“What was he doing?”

“Well it’s a service drone, it shouldn’t even be active right now right? He’s got one of the ones that crawls into maintenance channels and fixes the wiring, and he’s got it playing one of your human’s game things, and he’s just talking to it like a person, for hours!”

“And what did you do?”

“Well, we thought about cabling his shoes to the catwalk but I, uhh, slipped and fell into some exposed pipping.”

“Hence the arm.”

“Yes, hence my arm.”

“So you could say if you hadn’t been being a jerk, this could’ve been avoided. Can’t wait to tell your primary care giver that her crew are idiots and jerks. Leave the guy alone, if he’s not hurting anything then it doesn’t matter.”

“What, do you know the guy? He your friend or something?”

Jane didn’t particularly like the tone of the conversation anymore, but wanted to be professional.

“Never met the guy, but if you keep coming in here for pointless procedures like this, the chances of you getting the wrong doses are gonna get pretty high.”

Professional. Right.

“Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend the humans, we’ll leave him alone, okay?” Simms seemed way more afraid than Jane figured he should be, but rolled with it.

“Good. Now, how would you rate your care today?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aside from the rough start, the day in the Med Bay went by relatively easily. Jane met the nurses and other support staff she’d be working with, and they all seemed very nice. A couple of the senior officers came down to introduce themselves to Doctor Huhuma and herself, and the 3 other Indoprime came down to have lunch together in the office, primarily fruits and such. Jane went to the mess hall and enjoyed small talk with a delightful short haired alien that she almost immediately forgot the name of.

It wasn’t until she was coming back to the Med Bay that things took a turn. Rounding the corner, Jane saw the door to Med Bay open and a very suspicious looking Simms the Gally come out, looking both ways down the hall before practically jogging down to the corner and out of sight.

Jane sped up and ducked her head into the clinic. There was a giant string of crop circles on the wall drawn in what looked like an oil paint.

Now, she wasn’t sure when she started sprinting, but before she knew it, Jane was already within 20 yards of Simms the Gally.

“YOU LITTLE FUCKER!”

Simms spun around, eyes wide.

“Oh shit what the fu-”

That was as far as he got before she tackled him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doctor Huhuma watched the door while Doctor Jane Shaw watched the gray alien known as Simms the Gally sponge wash the crop circles off the Med Bay wall.

“So when in this big plan of yours did you think it was a good idea to piss off your doctors?” Jane asked, arms crossed.

“When I thought you’d still be in the mess hall for another 30 seconds.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Huhuma laughed, the sound coming from deep in her chest. Jane smiled at her. It was a good, hearty kind of laugh. It suited her.

“So are you guys gonna tell the captain about this?”

Jane thought for a second, then turned to Huhuma and shrugged.

“Your call boss.”

“I think if you just clean this place up…once a week, till we tell you otherwise, we could keep this to ourselves.”

Simms the Gally groaned, but kept scrubbing.

Jane the human laughed.

Huhuma the Indoprime smiled at her.

Liking the new job so far, Jane thought. This’ll be fun.

[nyaskitten]

EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

[novaursa]

Between Pride and Fire (aftermath)

- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: gold wedding

- Next part: west

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @punk-in-docs @barnes70stark

Jason entered the chambers with the same confident stride he always carried, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind him. The air inside was still warm, the soft scent of lavender lingering from the evening prior. You stood near the large mirror, brushing out your hair as sunlight streamed through the windows. A sheer robe was wrapped loosely around your frame, its edges swaying as you moved.

Jason paused just inside the door, taking the sight of you in with an almost lazy smile, like a man utterly at ease. “You’re up already?” he said, his tone light but carrying a faint edge of disappointment. “I was hoping to find you still asleep.”

You turned your head, eyeing him through the reflection in the mirror. “Some of us have things to attend to, Jason.”

Jason walked over, shrugging off his cloak as he moved. “Things to attend to?” he echoed. “No, no. That won’t do. I’ve already made plans for us, remember?”

“Plans?” you asked warily, lowering your brush. “What sort of plans?”

Jason came up behind you, his hands settling firmly at your waist as he pressed a kiss just below your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “A bath, breakfast, and then we’re going straight back to bed,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Not necessarily in that order.”

You let out an incredulous laugh, turning to face him, though his hands remained firmly at your waist. “That’s absurd. I have to speak with my father and Rhaenyra. I’ve been here nearly a day, and I’ve hardly—”

Jason interrupted you, tilting his head with a smirk. “Your father and Rhaenyra will survive without you for a little while longer. I’ve spoken with the king already.”

You frowned, folding your arms in front of you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re staying,” Jason replied easily, his grin growing wider as he leaned in closer. “For several more days, in fact. Viserys seems quite taken with Casterly Rock. Something about not wanting to rush back to the capital. So,” he added with a flicker of triumph, “you’re all mine until you have to say your goodbyes.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing. “You did something.”

Jason laughed outright at that, throwing his head back slightly. “I didn’t need to. Your father seems perfectly content with my hospitality, and your sister is keeping herself entertained.” He stepped closer again, his hands sliding up to rest against your arms. “So I see no reason why we shouldn’t take advantage of this opportunity.”

“I can think of several reasons,” you retorted, though your words faltered slightly as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “I have responsibilities—”

“Your only responsibility right now is to me,” he cut in smoothly, his voice softening as he met your gaze. “I’ve waited long enough to have you here, and I’m not in the mood to share you just yet.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Jason didn’t give you the chance. He kissed you—softly at first, as though daring you to pull away, but when you didn’t, the kiss deepened, his arms wrapping around you to hold you flush against him. When he pulled back, there was a smug glint in his eyes as he studied your face. “I’m glad you’re seeing reason.”

You blinked up at him, your cheeks flushed as you tried to regain your composure. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re beautiful,” he countered without missing a beat to your usual barb. “Now, come along. I already ordered the servants to fill the bath.” He stepped back, offering you his hand with a devilish grin. “Or would you rather we skip that and return to bed now?”

You scoffed, brushing past him as you made your way toward the adjoining bathing chamber. “I’ll take the bath, thank you very much. But don’t think this conversation is over.”

Jason followed after you, his grin only growing. “Oh, I never think our conversations are over, wife. They’re just... postponed.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. Jason Lannister was infuriating, yes—but there was something about the way he looked at you, the way he carried himself as though the entire world had aligned perfectly in his favor, that made it impossible to stay angry for long.

And he knew it.

The bathing chamber of Casterly Rock was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, built into the stone itself. The tub was vast—carved from pale marble and large enough to accommodate more than just one person, with steaming water that carried the soft scent of lilies and rose oils. Sunlight filtered through the small stained-glass windows above, painting fractured colors across the room and onto the rippling water.

You sat with your back against one end of the tub, the warm water lapping at your collarbones as you watched Jason sink into the opposite side. His movements were unhurried, deliberate even, as though he were reveling in his success. The faint smirk on his face only made your irritation flare further.

“You look far too pleased with yourself,” you muttered, running your fingers absentmindedly through the water.

Jason stretched his arms along the edge of the tub, his hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he grinned at you. “Why shouldn’t I be pleased? I’ve married a Targaryen princess. The Rock hasn’t seen such an alliance in centuries.”

“Do you ever tire of basking in your own accomplishments?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

“Never,” he replied smoothly, tilting his head slightly as if to study you. “And why should I? It’s not every man who can say he’s tamed a dragon.”

You scoffed, sinking slightly lower into the water. “And what if I’d refused? What then, Jason?”

His smile didn’t waver, though his gaze held a sharper edge for a moment. “You wouldn’t have.”

“And how could you be so sure of that?” you pressed, your annoyance clear.

Jason leaned forward, his forearms resting against his knees as the water rippled between you. “Because your father wouldn’t have had much of a choice,” he said calmly. “He wants peace and alliances for the realm, and a union with the Westerlands is far too valuable to refuse.”

You narrowed your eyes further, your voice laced with suspicion. “And what if he refused?”

Jason smirked, leaning back again with a shrug, utterly unbothered. “Then there’d still be a Lannister running around the Red Keep, wouldn’t there?”

You blinked, your lips parting slightly as realization struck. “You planned this.”

“Planned is a strong word,” he said, though the glint of satisfaction in his eyes betrayed him. “Let’s call it foresight. I knew what I wanted, and I ensured I got it.”

“You’re conniving on top of everything as well,” you hissed, though heat crept into your cheeks as you processed his meaning. Jason, clearly enjoying himself, reached across the water to brush his fingers against your knee.

“Perhaps,” he replied with a mock sigh, “but I’m also very effective. Don’t you agree?”

Your glare sharpened, though the faint blush on your skin undermined its severity. “You’re lucky Viserys was eager for this match.”

Jason chuckled, unrepentant. “I’m lucky? You say that as though you didn’t get the better end of the deal.”

You splashed water at him, the sudden motion sending droplets scattering across the marble floor. Jason laughed, his deep voice echoing off the chamber walls as he wiped the water from his face. “Temper, wife. You wouldn’t want to drown me, would you?”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help the small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Jason’s gaze softened slightly as he studied you, the teasing giving way to something quieter. “You should be grateful I’m so persistent. Few men would dare marry a woman who comes with a dragon and a sharp tongue.”

“And few women would marry a man with an ego so large it rivals the Rock itself,” you shot back, though your voice held less bite this time.

Jason grinned, undeterred. “Yet here you are.”

He moved through the water then, closing the distance between you in a few unhurried strides until he was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. His hand slid gently beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “I would’ve married you whether you liked it or not,” he said softly, though there was no malice in his tone—only a quiet, unshakable confidence. “Because you’re mine, and I always get what I want.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as Jason leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. The water rippled softly around you, the tension that had flared earlier dissolving as his hand slid to the back of your neck. When he finally pulled back, his green eyes sparkled with mischief once again.

“So,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jawline, “shall we take breakfast here, or will you concede and let me keep you in bed a while longer?”

You pushed lightly against his chest, though he didn’t budge. “Neither,” you said firmly. “I will speak to my sister today.”

Jason smiled wickedly, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as he whispered, “We’ll see about that.”

You sighed heavily, though the faint tug of a smile betrayed you. Jason Lannister was impossible, yes—but there was no denying that he was equally relentless when it came to you. And despite yourself, a small part of you couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

The dining chamber adjoining your shared chamber had been prepared for a quiet breakfast, a stark contrast to the spectacle of the previous evening. Sunlight pooled over the long table, reflecting off dishes piled with bread, roasted meats, and fruit. Jason, as ever, lounged in his chair as if it were a throne, a goblet of wine in one hand while his other tore at a piece of bread with casual confidence.

You sat opposite him, carefully spooning honey into your tea as the scent of fresh lavender wafted in through the open windows. The atmosphere was calm, even pleasant, but of course, Jason couldn’t let the peace linger long.

“You’re unusually quiet this morning,” he remarked, chewing a bite of bread with a smirk. “I would’ve expected you to still be complaining about last night’s lion.”

You shot him a look over the rim of your teacup. “Oh, don’t worry, I still plan to, but I’ve other things on my mind.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Such as?”

You set your cup down, your tone thoughtful. “I miss the archery tournaments. Ser Gwayne and I used to hunt and compete all the time back in King’s Landing. It’s been too long since I’ve had the chance.”

Jason scoffed, his lips twisting into a faint smirk. “Ser Gwayne Hightower?” he said incredulously. “The most humorless, proper man I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting? I’m surprised you didn’t fall asleep mid-competition.”

You shot him an annoyed glance. “Ser Gwayne is a good friend. We grew up together. We’ve shared many hunts, and he’s an excellent shot.”

“An excellent bore,” Jason retorted, his smirk widening as he picked up his goblet. “If you’re so desperate to practice, I’ll have a dummy made for you—one with a great, big tower stitched onto it. You can shoot at it as much as you like.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching for a piece of fruit. “You can’t possibly dislike him that much.”

“I’ve never met anyone duller,” Jason countered, his voice laced with mock horror. “Always standing so straight, always speaking so properly, like he’s afraid a joke might end his entire existence.”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. “At least he isn’t a peacock like you.”

Jason grinned, unrepentant. “A peacock? I prefer ‘golden lion’, as you know. I have far more presence than your stiff-necked Ser Gwayne ever could.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, your tone sly. “From what I’ve heard, you were far more unbearable in your youth. The court at King’s Landing still tells tales about the Lord of Lannisport’s endless arrogance when you first took your father’s place.”

Jason froze mid-sip, his green eyes narrowing at you over the rim of his goblet. “Oh? What tales, exactly?”

You smiled sweetly, setting your fork down. “Tales of you making half the court roll their eyes whenever you entered a room. You boasted about gold, your hair, your tunics—anything you could think of, I imagine.”

Jason snorted, feigning offense. “It wasn’t boasting; it was educating the dullards of King’s Landing about the splendor of House Lannister.”

You laughed outright, leaning back in your chair. “That’s what you call it?”

“I was young,” Jason admitted with a shrug, though the grin tugging at his lips remained as smug as ever. “The Red Keep was full of dreariness. Someone had to liven it up.”

“And I’m sure you did, much to everyone’s dismay.”

Jason’s expression turned sly. “You wouldn’t have fared much better back then either. I imagine even young you had your sharp tongue.”

“Of course I did,” you replied matter-of-factly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Though I doubt you would’ve been able to handle it then, any more than you can now.”

Jason chuckled, lifting his goblet in mock salute. “And yet, here we are. I suppose I should thank your dear Ser Gwayne for being so dull—otherwise, you might never have appreciated my charms.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you reached for another piece of bread. “Lucky me.”

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” he replied smoothly, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Admit it—King’s Landing never had anyone quite like me.”

“That, unfortunately, is very true,” you muttered under your breath.

Jason only laughed, clearly enjoying himself as he leaned forward, watching you with a grin. “Well, if you’re so eager to shoot arrows, we’ll arrange it. I’m happy to let you take aim at whatever you like—so long as it isn’t me.”

You smirked faintly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “No promises, my lord.”

Jason laughed again, the sound warm and rich as he lifted his goblet. “Good. I’d expect nothing less from my dragon of a wife.”

The remains of breakfast lingered on the table—half-eaten bread, scattered fruit rinds, and Jason’s ever-present goblet of wine. You sat back in your chair, brushing crumbs off your fingers as Jason leaned toward you, lounging lazily with one elbow propped on the table. His expression, however, held a wicked glint that immediately put you on edge.

“You know,” Jason began, his voice low and full of suggestion, “I’m thinking about what comes next.”

You raised an eyebrow warily. “Next?”

“Once we return to bed,” he clarified with an exaggerated smirk. “The first time was about claiming what’s mine. This time…” He leaned closer, his green eyes gleaming mischievously. “I plan to take my time. Really explore every inch of—”

“Jason,” you hissed sharply, shooting him a glare as heat rose to your cheeks. “For the love of the Seven, don’t finish that sentence.”

He laughed, unabashed, reclining in his chair like a lion with its prey cornered. “What? You look so much prettier when you blush.”

“Do you ever stop?” you retorted, though the corners of your mouth twitched as you fought back a smirk.

“I don’t see the need,” Jason replied smugly, sipping his wine. “And by the time I’m through with you, neither will you.”

Before you could conjure a reply, a knock sounded at the door, and Ser Harrold’s voice broke the moment. “My lord, my lady—Princess Rhaenyra requests an audience with her sister.”

Jason groaned, rolling his eyes as he muttered, “The interruptions never end.” You smirked, rising from your seat while he reluctantly stood as well.

“Let her in, Ser Harrold,” you called, smoothing the fabric of your robe. Jason didn’t bother fixing his disheveled appearance—his tunic unlaced, his hair still damp from the bath. You could already sense his irritation at the intrusion.

Rhaenyra swept into the chamber moments later, her steps confident as always. Her violet eyes immediately landed on Jason, and her lips curved into a teasing smirk. “Well, it seems you have taken my sister hostage.”

Jason scoffed, feigning offense as he crossed his arms. “Hardly. She’s here willingly, I assure you.”

“Willingly?” Rhaenyra echoed, raising an eyebrow as she looked at you. “You’ve been here for barely a day, and already he’s hidden you away from the rest of us. Are you even allowed to leave the chambers, sister, or does he keep you under lock and key?”

You shot Jason a pointed look before answering. “I’m perfectly free, Rhaenyra. Despite appearances.”

Jason smirked, uncrossing his arms as he interjected, “You say that as though I’ve tied her to the bed.” He paused, glancing at you with a sly grin. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Jason!” you hissed, your cheeks burning as Rhaenyra rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Gods, you’re horrible,” Rhaenyra said, though her tone was light, turning to you with exasperation. “I had to see you before he locked you away forever.”

You gave her a faint smile, glad for the reprieve. “How was the tour, Rhaenyra? You returned much earlier than anyone expected.”

Rhaenyra’s face tightened slightly as she took a seat on the cushioned bench near the table. “Unsurprisingly dull. Lords parading their sons around as though I were cattle at auction. I grew tired of the farce sooner than expected.”

Jason snorted softly, muttering, “A shame. I thought you enjoyed being admired.”

Rhaenyra ignored him, her gaze shifting back to you. “Father insisted I attend, but I decided there was no point lingering longer than necessary. Besides, someone had to ensure this marriage didn’t end in bloodshed.” She smirked, her gaze flicking between you and Jason. “From the looks of it, you’ve survived.”

“Barely,” you muttered under your breath, earning a laugh from Rhaenyra.

Jason, clearly annoyed at being ignored, leaned against the table. “If you’re finished scolding me, Princess, perhaps you can leave us to our morning.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed with amusement as she turned toward him. “Oh, I’ll leave soon enough, Lord Jason. But first—Daemon is looking for you.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, his amusement faltering. “Daemon?”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra said, standing again with a smooth sweep of her skirts. “Something about the lion he killed at the wedding. He didn’t say much, but he seemed… unusually interested.”

Jason sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Of course he is. Daemon Targaryen doesn’t know how to let a single thing go.”

“Well,” Rhaenyra added with a smirk as she turned back to you, “I’ll leave you to decide whether or not to release my sister from your captivity, but I’d recommend you tend to my uncle sooner rather than later.”

Jason muttered something unintelligible, clearly irritated as he grabbed his goblet and downed what remained of his wine. You smiled faintly, watching your sister with a raised brow. “And you’re leaving me here with him, are you?”

“Consider it repayment for all the times you left me to fend for myself,” Rhaenyra teased, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Enjoy your morning—while it lasts.”

With that, she turned and strode confidently out of the room, leaving Jason grumbling behind her. He turned to you once the door shut, his expression half amused and half irked. “Worse than I thought.”

“Daemon or Rhaenyra?” you asked, smirking.

“Both,” Jason muttered. “But at least Daemon’s predictable.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’d best go, then. You wouldn’t want Prince Daemon barging in here next.”

Jason sighed dramatically, stepping toward you and brushing a hand along your waist. “And leave you again? You’re determined to keep me miserable, aren’t you?”

“Go,” you said firmly, though you couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at your lips. “We’ll see if you can survive Prince Daemon without getting mauled like your lion.”

Jason smirked at that, dropping a quick kiss against your lips before straightening. “I’ll deal with the rogue prince—and then I’m coming straight back to finish what we started.”

You rolled your eyes, waving him off as he grabbed his cloak and strode from the chamber, his steps echoing down the hall. Even with the lingering scent of breakfast and the quiet warmth of the morning, you couldn’t help but wonder what trouble Jason might find himself in when facing Daemon Targaryen.

Jason found Daemon Targaryen lounging in the western courtyard of Casterly Rock, where the sun cast stark shadows along the flagstones. Despite the lingering tension from the previous night’s spectacle, the rogue prince appeared unbothered, as though killing a lion during a wedding was an ordinary affair. He sat with one leg propped over the other, sharpening the edge of Dark Sister with slow, deliberate strokes.

Nearby, the carcass of the lion—now skinned and gutted—lay stretched out on a wooden frame, its pelt shimmering in the light. A pair of servants worked nearby, grimacing as they carefully cleaned and prepared it under Daemon’s watchful eye. Jason stopped mid-step, arching a brow as he surveyed the scene.

“I don’t remember asking for a rug,” Jason said dryly, folding his arms across his chest. “Or is this your latest gift to the happy couple?”

Daemon smirked but didn’t look up from his work. “Oh, it’s not for you, Lord Jason,” he replied, his tone dripping with mock politeness. “This fine beast is for me. I killed it, after all.”

Jason scoffed, stepping closer. “You killed it because you couldn’t help yourself. Most men settle for wine and dancing at a wedding, but of course, you needed to spill blood.”

“Consider it a wedding favor, for ensuring nobody was harmed by the beast,” Daemon retorted, his tone casual. He paused his sharpening, lifting the blade to inspect its edge. “This lion will make a fine rug for my chambers—though, I’ll admit, the symbolism isn’t lost on me.”

Jason bristled slightly but kept his tone measured. “Symbolism?”

Daemon finally looked up, his violet eyes glinting with amusement and just a hint of menace. “Oh, you know,” he said airily, leaning back in his seat. “The Targaryen dragon making a trophy of a Lannister lion. Poetic, don’t you think?”

Jason’s jaw tightened, though he forced a smirk onto his face. “Poetic or not, I doubt the lion enjoyed it.” He nodded toward the skinned carcass. “You’ve had your fun, Prince Daemon. The guests were terrified last night, more from you than from the lion in the end, and now you’re lingering here like a butcher.”

Daemon tilted his head, his gaze sharp as a knife. “I linger because I have a point to make.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “And what point is that?”

Daemon stood then, smoothing a hand over the lion’s gleaming pelt before turning to face Jason fully. Though shorter than Jason, Daemon’s presence was no less commanding, and the grin that spread across his face held a dangerous edge.

“The point, Lord Lannister,” he said slowly, “is that my younger niece now bears your name. I do not take kindly to anyone treating my family poorly.”

Jason’s smirk faltered just slightly, though he refused to back down. “I’ve given you no reason to think otherwise.”

“Not yet,” Daemon agreed, his voice low. “But I like to be clear. Should I hear so much as a whisper of mistreatment—should you take that pride of yours too far—I’ll add you to my collection.”

Jason frowned, taking a step closer. “Is that a threat, Prince Daemon?”

Daemon’s grin widened, all teeth. “No, my lord. It’s a promise.” He turned back toward the lion’s pelt, running his hand along its soft fur with an air of satisfaction. “I’ll start with your mane—cut it clean off, just like this beast.”

Jason scoffed, though he couldn’t entirely hide his discomfort. “Charming as ever, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon shrugged, his tone once again light but no less threatening. “What can I say? I like my family well cared for. My niece deserves better than being shackled to a prideful lord with too much gold and too little sense.”

Jason bristled at that, his voice dropping to a sharp edge. “Your niece is well cared for, and I’ll thank you to remember that I am her husband now. Whatever you think of me, Prince Daemon, you’d do well to keep it to yourself.”

Daemon chuckled, clearly enjoying himself as he sheathed Dark Sister with a slow, deliberate motion. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that. Perhaps that’s why she tolerates you.”

Jason’s glare hardened, though he managed to maintain his composure. “Perhaps you’ll find that I’m not so easily intimidated.”

Daemon’s smirk returned as he walked past Jason, brushing shoulders with him just slightly. “Good. I’d hate to see my niece waste her time on a weak man.”

Jason watched him go, fists clenching slightly as Daemon strode toward the castle with that same effortless confidence. When the rogue prince disappeared from view, Jason turned his attention back to the skinned lion, his lip curling faintly in irritation.

“A rug,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course it’s a rug.”

He lingered a moment longer, his thoughts dark as he replayed the encounter in his head. Daemon Targaryen was as unpredictable as he’d heard—and far more dangerous. But Jason Lannister was not a man to be cowed, even by a dragon.

With a determined sigh, Jason turned on his heel and strode back toward the keep. He had no intention of letting Daemon’s threats—or promises—cast a shadow over his marriage.

Jason strode briskly through the shadowed halls of Casterly Rock, his mood sharper than it had been earlier. Daemon’s thinly veiled threats still echoed in his head, though Jason pushed the rogue prince from his thoughts. He had far better things to attend to—like returning to you.

Unfortunately, Casterly Rock and its occupants had other plans.

He had barely crossed the threshold into the main corridor when Maester Ronnel appeared seemingly out of nowhere, his dark robes trailing behind him as he scurried up, clutching a scroll in his wrinkled hands. The man was thin and hawk-nosed, with an expression that always seemed permanently fraught with worry. Jason groaned internally, slowing his steps.

“My lord,” Maester Ronnel called, breathless as he intercepted Jason’s path. “A moment of your time, if you would.”

Jason exhaled sharply but pasted on a polite smile. “Maester Ronnel, what urgent matters of the realm require my attention this very moment?”

“It is about the princess’s dragon, Morrath,” Ronnel replied quickly, ignoring Jason’s impatience. “I wanted to provide you with an update, as you requested.”

Jason’s interest piqued slightly. “Go on, then.”

Ronnel straightened, pushing his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. “Morrath appears to be adjusting to the mine with surprising ease. The space is large enough for her comfort, and she has shown no signs of agitation.”

“And the Dragonkeepers?” Jason asked, glancing toward the sunlit windows.

“They are overseeing her well, my lord,” Ronnel assured him. “They have praised the ventilation shafts and believe the dragon will settle into a routine soon enough.” He paused, as if reluctant to add the next part. “Though, there is one minor concern.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, already sensing what was coming. “Of course there is. Go on.”

“Well,” Ronnel began hesitantly, “it seems Morrath has taken an interest in the livestock pens near the southern tunnels. Two sheep went missing yesterday—entirely her doing, the Dragonkeepers assure me.”

Jason let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Then make sure the sheep pens are moved farther away. Simple enough, isn’t it?”

Ronnel blinked, as if the solution had not occurred to him. “Yes, my lord. I shall see to it immediately.”

“Good,” Jason said, already stepping around the maester. “Anything else, Ronnel?”

“No, my lord,” Ronnel replied hastily, bowing. “Thank you for your time.”

Jason waved him off, already refocusing his thoughts as he made his way back toward your chambers. But he had barely rounded the next corner when another interruption arrived—this time in the form of a boisterous voice calling his name.

“Jason! Jason, there you are!”

Jason turned to find his cousin, Ser Martyn Lannister, barreling toward him with a grin plastered across his face. Martyn was younger, with unruly golden curls and a perpetually cheerful demeanor that Jason found equal parts endearing and exhausting.

“Martyn,” Jason greeted with forced patience, “can this wait?”

“Absolutely not,” Martyn replied, clasping Jason’s shoulder as if they’d not seen each other in years. “I couldn’t leave without congratulating you again—though I must say, cousin, your wedding was one for the history books.”

Jason arched an eyebrow, already weary. “You’re referring to the lion, I assume.”

“Of course I am!” Martyn exclaimed, his voice carrying down the hall. “You should’ve seen the way Lady Redwyne fainted clear onto her table. Nearly knocked the roast boar onto Lord Wylde.”

Jason groaned softly, though his lips twitched at the image. “I was there, Martyn.”

Martyn grinned, undeterred. “A lion on the loose, Daemon Targaryen striding about like some Valyrian god, and then—swipe—Dark Sister ends it in one clean cut! It was chaos.” He shook his head in awe. “Father said it was madness, but I thought it was bloody brilliant.”

“I’m glad someone did,” Jason muttered, glancing pointedly toward the corridor he needed to take. “If you’re finished reliving the most disastrous part of the wedding, Martyn, I have matters to attend to.”

“Oh, I’m not finished,” Martyn said, smirking. “I wanted to tell you what the knights were saying in the yard this morning. Some of them were laying wagers.”

Jason paused, his brow furrowing. “Wagers on what?”

Martyn grinned wider. “On how long you’ll survive being married to a Targaryen.”

Jason barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Let me guess—Daemon placed the first bet.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Martyn replied with a wink. “But I’ve got my money on you, cousin. You’ve got too much pride to let her get the better of you.”

Jason smirked faintly, stepping around his cousin. “Wise choice, Martyn. Now go entertain yourself somewhere else before I start placing wagers on how long you’ll survive bothering me.”

Martyn laughed, clapping Jason’s shoulder once more before finally retreating down the hall. “Fair enough! Good luck, Jason. You’ll need it.”

Jason exhaled in relief once he was alone again, his patience worn thin but his focus now sharpened. *No more interruptions, he thought firmly, quickening his pace toward your chambers. He’d spent far too much of the morning away from you already, and he had every intention of making up for lost time.

The corridor outside your shared chambers was unusually quiet as Jason approached, the muted sound of his boots echoing against the polished stone floor. Two guards stood rigid at either side of the door, but their posture relaxed slightly as Jason neared. He stopped briefly, giving them both a stern glance.

“No one is to disturb us,” Jason ordered firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not for anything short of the Rock collapsing.”

The guards exchanged a quick look before nodding in unison. “Yes, my lord.”

Satisfied, Jason pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the chamber bathed in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. The fire had been stoked, crackling gently, but the room was otherwise still. For a moment, he thought you might still be resting, but then he caught a glimpse of you standing on the balcony beyond the open doors, the wind teasing strands of your hair as you stared out across the sprawling Westerlands below.

Jason let the door close softly behind him, his steps measured as he made his way toward you. You didn’t turn as he approached, lost in thought, your hands resting lightly on the stone railing. The distant roar of waves crashing against the cliffs mingled with the soft whistle of wind.

Jason slipped his arms around your waist from behind, drawing you gently back against his chest. “What’s this?” he murmured, his chin brushing your shoulder. “No sharp retorts or demands the moment I walk in? I must be dreaming.”

You let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh but didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you leaned back slightly into him, your body warm against his. Jason tilted his head, his grin fading as he studied you more carefully. Your expression was contemplative, your gaze distant as you stared across the sunlit hills.

“You’re quiet,” he said softly, his voice losing its usual teasing edge. “That’s not like you.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers tracing absently along the stone railing. “I was just… remembering.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Remembering what?”

“A time when I was a little girl,” you replied, your tone distant but warm, like a memory wrapped in golden light. “Before everything became so complicated. I used to sit by the window in the Red Keep—there was this spot where I could see the whole city. I’d imagine what it would be like to fly over it on dragonback. To be free.”

Jason was quiet for a moment, his expression softening as he listened. “And now?”

You turned your head slightly, offering him a wry smile. “Now I’m still trying to decide if I’ve found freedom or traded one cage for another.”

Jason sighed, resting his chin against your shoulder as his fingers brushed gently along your arm. “That’s a heavy thought for so early in our marriage.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you said softly. “It’s just… change. All of it. Leaving home, being here with you, even Morrath settling into the Rock—it feels strange. Like I’ve stepped into a life that doesn’t quite fit yet.”

Jason was silent for a moment before he responded, his voice quieter than usual. “I know what that feels like.”

You turned your head slightly, curious. “Do you?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “When my father died, everything fell on me. The Rock, the family name, the expectations—it was like wearing a cloak two sizes too big. I wanted to be everything they said a Lannister should be, but I was barely a man. All the gold in the world couldn’t make me feel less… unprepared.”

You looked at him, surprised by the rare glimpse of vulnerability beneath his confidence. “And did it get easier?”

Jason smiled faintly, his grip around you tightening protectively. “Eventually. You grow into the life you’re given, whether you want to or not. I had to learn that.”

You considered his words, your gaze returning to the sprawling landscape before you. “It sounds lonely.”

“It was,” Jason admitted softly. “But that’s different now.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “Because of me?”

“Because of you,” he said without hesitation, a small smile curving his lips. “And don’t mistake that for flattery—it’s simply the truth.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You can’t help but flatter yourself, even when you’re being honest.”

Jason grinned, his confidence returning as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s part of my charm.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Jason, despite his arrogance, had a way of chipping away at your walls—whether you liked it or not.

“Come,” he said, his voice lighter now, though there was a softness to his tone that lingered. “Let me remind you why Casterly Rock isn’t a cage but a home.”

“And how will you do that?” you asked, turning to face him fully, your arms resting against his chest.

Jason smirked, his eyes glinting playfully. “I’ll start by keeping you away from that railing. I’ve no intention of letting you fly away just yet.”

Jason guided you back into the chamber with deliberate steps, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as the heavy doors clicked shut behind you. The lingering warmth of the fire in the hearth wrapped the room in quiet intimacy.

You turned slightly, arching an eyebrow as Jason’s hands began to work at the laces of your robe, loosening them with practiced ease. “You really intend to keep me here for days?” you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and mild challenge. “Don’t you have duties to tend to, my lord?”

Jason smirked, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as the fabric slid from your shoulders. “There will be time for duties,” he replied, his voice low, husky with intent. “For both of us. But right now, my only duty is to you.”

You huffed softly, though your breath caught as Jason turned you fully to face him, his green eyes locking with yours. “And what of Casterly Rock? The Westerlands?” you pressed, though your words lacked their usual bite as his hands settled firmly on your waist.

Jason’s grin widened as he leaned closer, brushing his lips teasingly against yours. “The Rock will endure a few days without me,” he murmured. “It’s endured centuries. But I need you now.”

Before you could respond, Jason kissed you—no longer teasing, no longer soft, but with a heat that stole the air from your lungs. His lips moved against yours with unspoken urgency, as if proving his point in every movement. Your arms slid up instinctively, tangling around his neck as you melted into him.

Jason didn’t waste time. He pulled at the ties of your chemise, the fabric slipping from your body as you shivered, the cool air replaced immediately by the heat of his touch. He broke the kiss only long enough to shrug out of his tunic and belt, tossing them carelessly to the floor. His hands returned to you with purpose, pulling you flush against him as he walked you slowly back toward the bed.

“You never stop,” you muttered breathlessly between kisses, though you didn’t resist him, your fingers splaying across the bare planes of his chest.

Jason grinned against your lips. “And yet you’re still here, aren’t you?”

“Infuriatingly so,” you shot back, though the words faltered when Jason scooped you up effortlessly, earning a soft gasp from you. He laid you gently on the bed, his hands trailing over your body with a reverence that surprised you.

For a moment, he paused, his gaze sweeping over you as if committing every inch of you to memory. “You’re mine,” he said softly, the teasing absent from his voice now, replaced with something deeper, quieter. “And I’ll remind you of it every chance I get.”

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, you reached for him, pulling him down to you, your mouths meeting once more in a kiss that grew increasingly fevered. His body pressed against yours, every inch of him hot and solid as he settled between your thighs.

Jason moved with instinctive ease, aligning himself against you before sliding into you in one smooth, deliberate motion. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your back arching slightly as you clung to him. The stretch was familiar, yet no less consuming than the first time.

Jason let out a low groan, his forehead resting briefly against yours as he stilled, savoring the sensation. “Gods, you feel perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough, uneven.

“Then move,” you whispered, your words a challenge as you tugged lightly at his hair.

Jason’s eyes flashed with that familiar competitive spark, his smirk returning even as he began to thrust, slow at first but quickly building into something deeper, more consuming. His hands moved, one bracing at your hip while the other slid between you, fingers teasing and coaxing more pleasure from you with every movement.

You gasped again, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arched up to meet him. “You’re—relentless,” you managed, your breath coming faster now.

“And you love it,” Jason replied smugly, though his voice was strained, the rhythm of his hips becoming more desperate as he pushed you both closer to the edge.

The usual fire and stubbornness remained, each of you meeting the other with equal fervor. Yet there was something different this time—a softness beneath the urgency, an intimacy that went unspoken but could be felt in every touch, every kiss. Jason’s hands, rough and strong, gripped you as though you might disappear. His gaze, when it met yours, held something far more vulnerable than the arrogant lord you were used to.

Your body responded instinctively to his, the tension coiling in your core as Jason’s pace quickened, his movements becoming almost frenzied. “Say it,” he murmured against your lips, his breath ragged as he buried himself deeper. “Say you’re mine.”

You didn’t resist this time. “I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking on the words as the pleasure surged through you like wildfire.

Jason groaned in satisfaction, his movements turning almost desperate as his hand tightened on your hip, guiding you to meet him. “And don’t forget it,” he rasped, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was all fire and heat as you both lost yourselves to the moment, the world outside the chambers fading away entirely.

Excerpt from The Reign of King Viserys I: The Dance of Dragons, as recorded in The Testimony of Mushroom and other chroniclers

The Gold Wedding, as it came to be known across the Seven Kingdoms, was a spectacle of opulence that could only be rivaled by tales of Valyria’s lost grandeur. Lords and ladies, knights and minstrels, had traveled from every corner of Westeros to Casterly Rock, eager to witness the marriage of Lord Jason Lannister and the youngest daughter of King Viserys I Targaryen. It was said that no expense was spared, and true to the Lannister name, gold gleamed from every banner, chalice, and garment, as though the very sun had been trapped within the great walls of the Rock.

Mushroom, the fool whose bawdy wit kept him close to courts both high and low, writes that the hall was “an ocean of gold and crimson, with more jewels and wealth on display than the Great Sept at High Harvest.” Tapestries woven with lions and dragons hung from every wall, and fountains poured wine in place of water. Great pyres of torches and chandeliers draped in golden cloth turned the feast hall into a glowing inferno of light. It was a wedding not merely to join two great houses, but to proclaim Lannister wealth to all who dared question it.

Lord Jason Lannister himself, “as proud as any lion,” according to Mushroom, was ever at the center of attention, grinning his smug grin and raising his goblet to toast his new bride. His lady wife, Princess Y/N Targaryen, was radiant—though Mushroom slyly notes that the sharpness in her eyes could cut even Valyrian steel. “She wore her family’s black and red like armor, but it was the Lannister lion around her neck that marked her as conquered. The bride was no meek maid, but even dragons can wear chains of gold.”

The wedding itself proceeded with all the pomp and solemnity required. Lord Jason draped his crimson cloak over the princess’s shoulders before sealing the union with a kiss that lingered longer than propriety demanded. “A man who has claimed his prize,” Mushroom quips, “and meant to show it to the world.” The revelry that followed stretched late into the night, with feasting, music, and dancing filling the hours. Yet the true tales of the Gold Wedding lie in what followed.

Mushroom recounts in great detail the events of the following week, for King Viserys, in his ever-jovial mood, declared that the royal family would remain at Casterly Rock to enjoy its famed hospitality. It was during this time that tensions, gossip, and intrigue began to coil like vipers in the golden halls of the West.

The most notable of these events was, of course, the incident of the lion. On the night of feasting, Prince Daemon Targaryen, newly returned from the Stepstones, dispatched one of Jason Lannister’s caged lions in full view of the court, earning both awe and whispers. “The Rogue Prince is ever eager for blood,” Mushroom writes, “and if he could not spill it at war, he would spill it at weddings.” Prince Daemon, however, offered no apology. Instead, he had the lion skinned, declaring the pelt a trophy—though Mushroom suggests he did so as a pointed warning to Lord Jason himself.

Rumors spread quickly among the Westerlands lords that Daemon had taken a dislike to the match. “A dragon does not easily forgive a lion who preens too much,” one knight was heard to say. Others believed that Daemon’s ire was personal, as he had long been protective of his nieces. Mushroom claims to have overheard the prince himself muttering darkly that “should Jason fail my niece, I’ll wear his pelt next.”

The days that followed saw no shortage of gossip, for it was whispered that Lord Jason spent much of the week sequestered with his new bride. The princess was rarely seen beyond the walls of their chambers, which only fueled speculation. Some said she was ill, wearied by the tumult of her new life. Others—Mushroom chief among them—insinuated that the lord and his lady were indulging in “a honeymoon of fire and gold, where neither slept, for fear of letting the other claim victory.” He gleefully recounts crude tales of their supposed “battles,” claiming that the servants outside the lord’s chambers were left red-faced and flustered by the sounds within.

Yet not all accounts were so ribald. The maesters noted that the princess appeared quieter, more contemplative during brief meals with her family. It was said that King Viserys, delighted by his daughter’s marriage, paid little heed to her subtle change in demeanor. Queen Alicent, however, was not so easily fooled. It was she, according to Mushroom, who first whispered to her ladies that “the princess carries more than a Lannister’s name now.” Whether this was idle speculation or insight born from a mother’s intuition, none can say.

By the time the royal family departed Casterly Rock, the Westerlands had seen enough revelry and intrigue to last a lifetime. Lord Jason Lannister stood proudly at the gates to bid farewell to his king and kin, promising that the Rock would ever remain open to them. Princess Y/N, now truly Lady of the Rock, stood by his side, her face unreadable to most—but not to her sister, Rhaenyra, who, Mushroom writes, “offered her sister a knowing look, as though to say, ‘It has only just begun.’”

And so it was that the Gold Wedding became a tale of grandeur, whispered secrets, and dragon fire cloaked in gold. Whether the union between lion and dragon would bring peace or ruin to the realm remained to be seen, but as Mushroom so often says: “Men will ever be men, lions will ever roar, and dragons will always burn.”

"The Testimony of Mushroom" remains a controversial yet invaluable source for understanding the court politics and rumors of the era. More conventional chroniclers, such as Septon Eustace and Grand Maester Runciter, offer far more tempered—though considerably less entertaining—accounts.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Wick fic ideas, pretty please?

Oh dear. 😆 So this doc is my dumpster fire catch all. This is an outline/imagine I wrote for an Assassin!Reader x John Wick fic last december. I kind of imagine them having a sort of hostile Perkins/John vibe? Thank you @sweetwolfcupcake Sweets!! 😘😘😘😘

warnings: nsfw, violence, sex, angst 😱

You are an assassin, and you keep beating John wick to his targets. He doesn't appreciate it. You beat him two times. “No hard feelings, John.” You kiss him on the cheek, the corner of his mouth really, patting the scruff of his beard a little hard. He is like a block of wood, frozen in his self control. He doesn't lash out, like most in your profession would. 

Maybe that's why you make it your mission to poke him. You're curious if you can get him to crack. Just a little. 

The third time your paths cross you fight. It's brutal. You've already done half the work of killing the guards, you're not losing this payday if you can help it. You hit each other and throw each other around, and you are ridiculously turned on by this man. You can tell he's trying not to really hurt you, but he's not letting you have it either. 

In the end he pins you against a grate and whips his belt out of the loops. He uses it to secure your hands above your head. “Stay,” he growls, gasping for breath. It's ridiculously hot and you are soaking wet, but still you snarl, “Hey!” 

But he's gone like a shadow to finish the job. You hear fighting and gunshots, then silence. A good ten minutes go by before he returns to you. He looks at you warily, which is wise. He's clearly trying to figure out how to free you without getting hurt. In the end he sighs and decides to bite the bullet, stepping in to you and reaching for your hands. No hard feelings, he says, parroting your earlier words back at you. 

Holding on to the bars, you wrap your legs around his waist, quick as a striking snake. You pull him against you hard, winning a surprised grunt. Well John? You won. Are you going to claim your prize? His gaze involuntarily drops to your mouth, and you're 80 percent sure you have him in the bag. 

His hands travel from the belt down to your butt, helping to support your weight. You feel that his enthusiasm for this situation is growing by the second.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, pressing against you. 

“Doesn't matter what I want,” you say breathily. “I lost.”

He tilts his head, giving you a look. Some form of consent clearly matters to him. You squash the warmth you feel for him for this. There is no room for softer feelings in your world. That's how you end up dead. 

“Go on,” you urge him. “You won the night. Fuck me. You clearly want to.”

He narrows his eyes, leaning closer as you grind against his now hard erection between you. 

“Maybe I'll let you into my sweet, wet little cunt,” you goad him further. “Or maybe, I'll try to kill you while you're inside me. Hard to say. But secretly I think you like that, don't you, John? Everyone thinks you're such a sweetheart, but I think deep down, this is what you want. To take what’s yours because you fought for it and won.” 

He frowns like he wants to argue, until you squeeze him again with the strength of your legs, and you see something snap in his eyes. You have a nanosecond to savor it before his mouth crashes against yours. You kiss him with equal fury. Your teeth sink into his bottom lip, just this side of drawing blood. He growls in warning, and after a moment you release him slowly, meeting his eyes from across your noses.  

In the end, he does as he's told.

___

This competition goes on for several contracts.

Then you get a text. Want to come over?

You're confused, wondering if it's some kind of trap. What do you mean?

Ill make you dinner?

Huh. Ok.

You go. Out of curiosity more than anything. He has an apartment in manhattan. He makes you fucking spaghetti bolognese, and pours you wine, and its almost like youre normal people on a date. After dinner you watch a movie, and you make out. He picks you up, and doesn't slam you into the wall or take you on the floor. He carries you to the bedroom, where he sets you down gently on the bed, and fuck if he doesnt make love to you. It's beautiful and scintillating and you are not sure you like it, when all is said and done. 

You feel very open, and vulnerable, and warm, and fuck. No, you do not like this at all. You don't stay for breakfast, slipping out. The next time he texts you stare at it for a whole day before answering, i can't be your girlfriend, john.

A long time goes by before he answers with one word: Fine. 

You know there is a sea of emotion behind that single word. You know you've hurt him. You just know. But you are a vicious little thing, forged in the fires of the foster system and the streets. You're not ready to show your soft underbelly to anyone. Not even John Wick.

You stop poaching his contracts after that. Not because you're afraid of him, but of the way he makes you feel. In fact you don't even see him again until two years later. He's sitting outside at a bistrot with a gorgeous brunette, and it hits you like a punch to the gut. 

As though he senses you, the way predators scent other killers nearby, he turns to meet your eyes on the street. Maybe you've just been standing there staring like a crazy person, but he says something in his friend's ear, and gets up to meet you. “Hey, y/n.”

“Hi, John.” 

“How have you been?”

“Oh, you know. That your girlfriend?” He looks at you, assessing the threat level. You dont blame him. 

“Fiancé,” he finally admits.

“Wow. I’m...happy for you, John.”

You are surprised by the surge of envy in your breast. You could have had that, had him, if just maybe you weren't quite so broken.

“Are you?”

You nod, and goddammit if there's not moisture stinging your eyes. It's going to ruin your eyeliner.

“Yeah. I am. See you around, John.” You turn to go, but a pressure on your arm calls you back.

“Y/n.” 

Hes looking at you with those fucking puppy dog eyes and you know he knows you are not all right. But you put on a brave face. “Its ok, John.” You kiss him on the corner of the mouth. See you. You turn to go, and this time he lets you.

You don't see him again until five years later. When you hear his wife died you actually feel sorry for him. No really, you do. And when you hear there's a hit out on him after the Tarasov punk kills his dog and steals his car...you find yourself gravitating towards the Continental, like you just know in your bones he might need a little extra help.

[shinestarhwaa]

ON-CALL || PARK SEONGHWA

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Seonghwa x Fem Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Tags/Warnings: Doctor!AU, intern!reader, peds* resident!Seonghwa, kinda inspired by Grey's Anatomy, dirty language, masturbation, dom!Seonghwa, sub!reader, oral sex, unprotected sex, namecalling, slight hairpulling, slight spitting, praise

Helpful guide:

*Peds/pediatrician=doctor for kids

**pre-op = before operation

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho

ENJOY!

"Dr. Y/L/N, you will be following Dr. Park Seonghwa today," your supervisor said as she finished her pep-talk of the day. Your supervisor, Dr. Long was a very kind and positive woman, always quirky and bright and she gathered her interns every morning before work to cheer them up and motivate them.

You'd been an intern for a few months and you were slowly getting used to the hard work. You vaguely knew dr. Park from several heroic stories. All the women seemed to swoon over him as they gossiped about his fine looks every day.

Pediatrics was not the field you wanted to pursue but you figured a look couldn't hurt. You met dr. Park Seonghwa right in front of room 204 and suddenly you understood why all the women gushed over his beauty.

Dr. Seonghwa was a tall man with a sleek and defined look. His hair was slightly curly, tucked behind his ear while a few front pieces fell in front of his eyes. His nose was prominent, eyes big like boba pearls and lips thick and they looked like they'd be softer than all the fluffy kittens in the world. God damn.

"H-Hi, dr. Park, I'm your intern for the day," you introduced yourself. "Right, Y/N, I got the note that you'd walk with me today. If you have any questions let me know, okay? Let's get inside now, we're here to see a ten year old boy pre-op**," Seonghwa said as he guided you into the room.

"Good morning Kang-In, you look bright this morning," Seonghwa said with a smile as he greeted the boy named Kang-In. "Thanks doc, I'm feeling uplifted, I'm finally getting my surgery today! I've waited two whole years for my new heart."

"That's right, this is Y/N, she's my intern for the day, she will do a quick exam on you to check up on your stats."

Seonghwa watched you do the exam on the boy and asked you several questions to test your knowledge and he was surprised at your smart and quick answers. You got a kick out of it, watching his impressed expression and his small nodds.

The entire day was pretty fun, Seonghwa was still quite a young doctor and he told about his job with a lot of passion which intrigued you. When you laid in the on-call room that night you couldn't sleep. All you could think of was Seonghwa, the living example of perfection.

You looked around briefly, you're all alone. Would it be horrible if you slipped your hands into your panties just for a little bit? Deciding it would be okay you took your pants off, kicking it on the floor. You opened your legs and felt the damp spot on your underwear. You closed your eyes and slid your hand in your panties, rubbing your wet folds. "Mmh doctor," you moaned softly as you rubbed your clit, coating it with your arousal.

Suddenly the door opened and revealed dr. Park, his eyes widened at the sight of your bare cunt right in front of him. He closed the door instantly and froze for a few seconds just like you. ''What the hell are you doing?'' ''U-Uhm... Just...'' you stammered, not knowing what to do when your superior walks in on you touching yourself to the thought of him. ''S-Sorry sir, fuck I just-''

''Open those legs wider, I can't see it well enough.''

You felt like your heart stopped at those words, breath hitching in your throat. ''W-What? Sir...'' ''Well you obviously wanted someone to walk in on you, so you should at least give me a good show, right?''

You bit your lip and spread your legs wider, giving him a good view on your wet cunt. ''Why give a show when you could come here and taste it?'' This sentence went straight to Seonghwa's dick and before he could hold himself back he kneeled down in front of you, eyeing your glistening wet cunt up and down ''Christ,'' he cursed underneath his breath, ''What a beautiful fucking pussy... Who got you this wet, Y/N?''

Seonghwa licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit. ''Y-You, I was thinking about you. Fuck, you're so hot doctor, you are so hot I couldn't help but think of having your cock stuffed inside me,'' you cried out. ''Fuck, you're such a little minx, I love slutty interns,'' he grunted against your pussy, lapping it up and down. His long and skillful tongue felt warm on your labia. Seonghwa's eyes stared deep into your soul, making you whimper.

''Fuck, I'll be your slutty intern, doctor,'' you moaned as Seonghwa dug his tongue deep into your core, fucking it in and out of your hole. You guessed he must fool around with all the women around here but you didn't care. In the moment you wanted nothing more than be used by him.

Your walls clenched around his tongue and you whined out his name. ''Please, it's not enough,'' you cried, ''I need your cock sir, please.'' He smirked against your pussy and lapped at your clit, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands desperately reached for his head full of curly raven locks of hair, grabbing them and pulling them slightly, making the doctor moan into your core. You wanted him badly but he would not budge, eating your pussy like a starved man.

''Fuck, you're such a good little wet slut, all for me to ruin, keep begging for my cock, princess,'' he grunted as he worked on your clit, sucking and biting on it as his nails dug into the flesh of your thighs. ''Y-Yes, yours, doctor! Y-yours to ruin!'' It was wrong, God, it was so wrong of you to sleep with him but why did it feel so good then?

Seonghwa pulled those thoughts right out of your brain again as he sucked particularly hard on your clit, making your hips buck up. You felt the familiar warmth coil in your abdomen and your body grew restless. He held you down and stopped you from moving and you couldn't do anything else but let him make you come undone.

The orgasm hit you like a truck, washing over you as you chanted his name over and over. Seonghwa rode out your high with his delicious tongue and finished it off by pressing soft kisses over your used pussy and thighs. He hurried to pull down his pants and underwear and get on top of you, lifting your legs up and letting them rest on his shoulders. Seonghwa gave you no warning as he pushed inside you, nearly folding you in half as he did.

Soon he started moving at a fast pace, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room definitely able to be heard on the other side of the door. You could swear you heard a few giggles coming from the hallway but Seonghwa didn't accept the fact that your thoughts were drifting off again. He went harder, faster and with his fingers he grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open. He spat in your mouth and ordered you to swallow, as you did.

A cry left your lips when he suddenly seemed to have found a sensitive spot inside you, something not many of your past lovers were able to do. ''You're such a good fucking slut for me, such a cute little pussy for me to fuck. You're gonna let me do this to you often, hm? Gonna let me fuck this pussy over and over whenever I want it, right?''

You mewled at his words and could only whine and nodd your head, nothing else processing in your head. The sensitiveness of your previous orgasm was building up to a second one and before you knew it you were clenching down on his cock, coming once more for him. ''That's a fucking good slut, that's it,'' he praised you.

He fucked you roughly, seemingly chasing his own orgasm. The doctor pounded into your pussy with such force you nearly forgot how to breathe. You dug your nails into the skin of his shoulders, moaning over and over. He cursed underneath his breath and his thrusts grew sloppier. ''You're gonna let me breed this pretty pussy right? Gonna let me fill it up with my cum? You're such a good little slut, such a good little fucktoy! Fuck, take it baby, take my fucking load,that's it!''

Seonghwa came with a loud moan and his hips stilled, cum spurting deep inside you. The two of you panted softly as he pulled out and laid down next to you. Before you could say anything to him his pager went off and you sighed. He pulled his underwear and pants up and hopped off the bed. ''This isn't over yet,'' he says with a wink before exiting the on-call room.

You sighed deeply and squirmed a little, giddy with the thought of continuing later on.

[auxlley]

The Ranger's Legacy - Boothill x Reader | Part 1

Genre - Slow burn, flirting, potential romcom with some serious undertones. WIP.

You leaned back in your chair, heaving a slow and weary sigh. The phone call had ended abruptly, your ever-returning client sounded like he was in shambles, his voice tired and raspy through the shoddy line. It had been roughly 3 years since his last visit, and in those 3 years, you had spent extensive time researching both the software and hardware around his complex computing system that made up his bodily autonomy.

Boothill wasn't someone to shy away from danger. He also wasn't the type to take impersonation kindly, apparently. And he would be in your office within moments if he didn't get sidetracked along the way.

You had just finished with a client, a young man with a severe case of mineral deficiency and fatigue when you heard chatter from the lobby area followed by doors slamming and the receptionist doing her best to keep the surprise visitor from making himself welcome in your office.

You sighed as the door was shoved open, a tall, seemingly slender man in a cowboy hat with ink-stained white hair stood in the doorway, the receptionist heaving from running after him.

"Put me in the bubble Doc, I need a rewire and a forkin' break after all the fun I've had to put up with. And make it hasty, yeah? My joints are achin' somethin' fierce. My dumbfork of a handgun jammed again and I can't be bothered to fix it myself. Doctors touch is magic, yeah?" Boothill grinned through sharp teeth, his gaze seemingly tender and kind even though you could see through the farce.

You gestured him to the back beyond the regular clinical area that was otherwise off-limits to other clients. You gave the receptionist an apologetic look and she nodded in understanding.

"I'll go ahead and reschedule your last appointment, they never called for a follow-up after their consultation so it wouldn't be a difficult phone call anyway." She said meekly.

"Thank you, Sandra, go ahead and close up for the day while you're at it. It's almost Happy Hour at the pub." You gave her a wink and Sandra beamed at your generosity, swift on her feet to close the door and make her way back to finish her tasks.

You turned around from the closed door, heaving a heavy sigh, and began to clean up the small area meant for regulars. Putting away the clipboard of patient notes and returning various basic med kit items to their designated shelves you tried not to think too much about the ongoing noise from the room further in. Opening a door labeled with "Off Limits to Staff and Patients" you took in the sight and crossed your arms.

Boothill sat in a chair, his hat and sache neatly placed on the side table as he was doing the initial work to disassemble his handgun, a literal firearm built into his left and right arms, a mechanical system that should be seamless if he took care of himself.

"You know, if you weren't so damn impatient and actually listened to me your body wouldn't be collapsing on itself." You said as you took over, grabbing his arm and adjusting the mechanical array of impressive technical work.

"Oh you wound me Doc. Why of course I listen to you, you're the only dang person on this shirt-stain of a planet with the intellect in both fancy doctorial business and technology with your uh, well whatever it is your title is anyway." He replied in earnest.

"I'm a general practice doctor, Boothill. And it just so happens, for your sorry ass anyway, that I used to work in the technological division of a certain organization we both choose to not acknowledge anymore. Now shut your mouth before I reset your vocal system as well."

"Oh Doc, you wouldn't do that. You're too kind to this rusty son-of-a-nice-lady. How have you been in the time since I've last been here? If I may add, your office looks like some real cow shirt."

You shot him a look without raising your head, garnering a light laugh from the Galaxy Ranger. As robotic as his appearance may be, his actions and personality were more human than some. He was still humble, if not a bit brash. There was a kindness to him beneath all the metal and bullet cases.

"Why the rush into the bubble? Didn't get enough rest in Penacony? You were there for a long while." You carefully placed the removed pistol onto the counter opposite where Boothill sat and began to look through drawers for wool and lubricant.

"I don't even know where to begin with that fork-fest. The lady who was impersonating me wound up being on the same dang team, call that a forkin' surprise, yeah? Aye, that there lube better not be generic, I ain't no simpleton."

You rolled your eyes as you uncapped the lubricant spray and doused the pistol evenly all over. "You know better than to question me Boothill, I'm the one who patches you up and cleans up your mess. And from the looks of it, you got rust building around the gears where your arm receptors patch in. Why haven't you been here sooner for maintenance? Slept like a baby in Penacony?"

Boothill sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking down at his disassembled arm. "Truth is Doc, I ain't been all that honest with ya. The Penacony trip was two years ago, whole mess that fork-fest was. But I got the dang fella who decimated my home, got the closure I needed to move on. But I ain't feel complete yet, like somethin' is missin' and I haven't found it. I've seen and done so many damn things but it ain't enough."

You sighed and sat on a stool and rolled the seat up to his side, taking his other arm and examining where the arm met the elbow. "You got your revenge that you've been so desperate to get, but you haven't thought about the after Boothill. You never think that far ahead either way."

"Oh well ain't you a smart-butt. I do have a plan."

"Yeah?"

"Fork yeah!"

"Tell me about this plan then."

"I... Well... I just-"

"For fucks sake Boothill, going around the cosmos and killing bad guys like some superhero isn't a plan!"

"Yes the fork it is!"

You dropped his arm and shot him a look. "No, it's not. You're not getting any younger Boothill. You need to move on. You need to retire, focus on preserving whatever humanity you have, and move on. The cosmos have their heroes, the new generation of Rangers are doing fine, the Nameless are doing fine."

"There are kids out there that need saving!" Boothill shouted, his hands balled into fists. "Families need help, children need homes, the forkin' IPC ain't doin' anybody any favors. We wouldn't be here if the world was such a fine and dandy place, Doc."

You knew firsthand that the topic of family and survival was a touchy subject for him. "You can't save everybody Boothill, try as you might, you'll just get yourself killed. If not from bullets then by fatigue. Whose gonna save you when you're down?"

"You, Doc." He forced a toothy grin and you couldn't help but chuckle. You took his elbow again, noting the small build-up of rust and worn-down metal where the joints connect. You've tried and failed many times to get Boothill to retire the badge, to relax and accept what life has dealt not just him, but countless others. He was more stubborn than a mule, and trying to convince him otherwise was like talking to a wall.

"You really wanna get in the bubble?" You asked him blankly.

"I got sand all in and around my joints and my wiring got stiff. I can't taste my liquor and my sense of smell is all over the place. Format me, Doc."

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to a pod-like capsule that connected to various parts of the ceiling. Its machinery and cable management were tidy, something you made sure of when Boothill came down to visit for maintenance. You took a wired tablet from the slot near the pod and began to swipe through menus, preparing the system for a routine maintenance.

He got up and began to undress the attire he typically had on, pilling it by his hat and sache before stepping inside the pod. His arms and legs slotted into their designated spots and he took a deep breath.

"I improved the system handling while you were gone. The removal process should go smoothly so you'll barely feel a thing." You spoke over the hum of the awakened capsule, its server coming alive as the pod lights flickered on and Boothill was immersed in a soft blue light.

"I sure as hell hope so, Doc." He rested his head back and closed his eyes. Four robot claws drew down from the top of the pod as the transparent door closed. You watched from outside as the four-pronged hands began to remove Boothills arms and legs, careful actions that closely mimicked your own. You heard a chuckle from the pod and glanced up at the only visible human feature Boothill had.

"I'll be damned Doc, this piece of short is smoother than last time. Dare I say better than your fancy hands!" He let out a hearty laugh that you couldn't help but smile at.

"It's been three years, I've had a lot of time to get this thing up to your bougie standards. Once your limbs are off it'll automatically get into cleaning your systems. You'll be out in less than an hour."

"The fork you callin' bougie?"

Writing is hard but Hoolay is harder. Jkjk... I had this in the drafts since June and now that 2.7 is coming up I figured I'd dabble in finding some sorta conclusion. Who knows how long this'll be, but I hope y'all like it!

[good-chimes]

Cub takes over the Permit Office

A short textual recap of the Succession-style coup Cub just carried out (Timestamp: Grian s10 e21 14:40-29:30)

Grian, Scar and Skizz all receive a mysterious summons to a disciplinary hearing to discuss ‘restructuring’ at the Permit Office.

Scar and Skizz turn up thinking they’re in trouble with Grian. Grian, who has received two warnings for completely unfair reasons like ‘not doing his job’, knows he’s in trouble with Mysterious HQ Person (Grian, terrified but curious: Is it Doc??).

Waiting nervously, all three of them agree that their collective efforts are a shambles, a mild blame game ensues, also a horse is here and they can’t kill it because Judge Bdubs would object.

A flying figure approaches.

To Grian and Skizz’s surprise and Scar’s delight, it’s Cub.

Cub times his slow-falling potions to sink slowly and dramatically to the ground in a completely horizontal position. (Cub: Hello, boys) (Scar: Hello, God!)

Cub has a red tie and a gold name tag and performs an immediate show of dominance by taming the horse and handing out golden apples.

Scar: yeah that horse was—

Cub: it’s my horse now

Grian, eating the apple: He’s trying to butter us up. Skizz, don’t eat the apples.

Cub: Grian, I have some excellent news for you, my friend. You’re fired.

Grian: I’m what—

Cub: And also rehired! To a lesser position.

Grian: So I’m, what, assistant permit manager?

Cub: assistant TO the permit manager.

Cub: that’s me.

Cub: I’m sorry you had to find out this way

Grian: [into his hands] I’m so relieved I hate this job so much

Grian: IT’S NOT FUN AND I CAN’T CONTROL IT. LOOK AT THE SHOPPING DISTRICT. THERE’S POP UP SHOPS EVERYWHERE.

Grian: even I’ve got a pop up shop!!

Cub: Grian and I share a similar sentiment, which is that the permits shouldn’t exist

Cub: which is why we both have these jobs

Scar: But… but it was you two who came up with the idea of permits in the first place!

Cub: yeah

Cub: but you were supposed to enforce it

At this point it should be noted Cub has variously a) claimed he's been sent by the higher ups and he didn't want to do this but, boys, he has to, b) claimed he is one of the higher ups, c) claimed he's 'quite high up but not so much' d) vehemently denied that there exists anyone who has a fancier name tag than he does

Cub forces them into an immediate tour of the shopping district

There really are pop up shops everywhere

Cub: Alright, here's some TNT.

Grian: er! wait! I dunno—!

Cub: What.

Grian: Maybe we should give people some warning?

Cub: Hm

Scar: We did! We have a thing! I built a redstone countdown clock! [waves at the contraption of stacked red-yellow-white pillars he spent several weeks on]

Grian: Scar, that HASN'T MOVED SINCE YOU BUILT IT

Scar: It does move! It's just going slowly!

Cub: We need to move faster.

Scar: I can adjust it. This is 2024 advanced redstone. I can change it. [flies off]

Skizz: Can he really—

Grian, resigned: He's just going to mine it. [Scar mines it]

Skizz: Can I take a shot at him?

Cub: Fire away, Skizz

Grian: I'm not sure about this new management!

Meanwhile Cub has been contemplating the nearest popups in a critical way.

Cub: I'm going to be honest, I'm part of this glass collective, and even I want to see this one blown up.

Grian: Look, boss, what if we put a big billboard up that says 'Pop up purge'... certain date.

Cub: Hm.

Cub: That's very reasonable. I was just going to blow stuff up, but if you want to do that, I think it's a good choice.

Grian: How much time are you giving them, boss?

Skizz: Well, that's what the timer was—

Scar: I HAVE A TIMER! IT'S COUNTING DOWN!

Cub: We want to do this lickety-split. Let's go two weeks.

Grian: [repeating to himself under his breath] Two weeks!

Scar: I'll program the redstone!

Cub: You program it in, Scar. Grian, you make the billboard. Skizz…

Skizz: Yeah?

Cub: …you keep on keeping on, baby.

Cub: You've been the background of this whole operation, Skizz.

Skizz now dramatically attempts to get them to a high point so they can look at the layout of the shopping district, a simple task stymied only by the fact Scar and Grian both refuse to take any instructions unless they come from Cub

Cub then orders that pop up shops will be confiscated to Scar and Skizz's enforcement office. Grian very curious about the punishment for permit violations. Scar suggests banishing violators to the far reaches by Doc's 'shooty-offy cannon'. Cub approves this exile penalty enthusiastically.

Cub: Alright.

Grian: There's a storm comin'.

Scar: [looks up at the blue sky] Really?

Skizz: Us. He means us.

Grian: It's more like a moderate breeze.

Skizz: Well, that's official, we're under new management! And the tone I’m getting is that Rub-a-Dub-Cub is not messin’ around.

Cub: You guys gotta get to it.

[Actual in-game storm starts]

Grian: There is a storm coming.

Scar: A storm of pain!

Grian: [to Cub] I'm so relieved. I couldn’t keep control of any of this.

Cub: It's alright, Grian. [PEAL OF IN-GAME THUNDER] We'll keep people in line.

Grian: It feels like the permit office has taken a really dark turn

Cub: Nah, it'll be fine. People will care about their permits! [MORE THUNDER] People will comply :)

[fxlling13]

Amethyst Haze

Dh!Master x fem!reader

Wc:5.8k

Warnings:rude aunty, awkward family moments, bullying behaviour. Alcohol

Synopsis: the master pays you a surprise visit multiple times <3

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

"How about a planet entirely made out of amethyst?" Cocky as ever, The Doctor looked at you and Yaz

excitedly. “I say entirely. Obviously there’s some brick, and stone, and cement. So it’s more seventy-perfect amethyst. But you get the picture.” She carried on, correcting herself slightly. It did sound interesting though, and you guys hadn’t tried a new planet in a while. The girl beside you grinned, folding her arms comfortably. 

"Sounds great!" Yaz beamed, glancing at you as you nod in agreement.

"I’ll love it. Purple is my favourite colour." The others looked at you in shock. Surely it was obvious, you had dyed your hair a deep plum colour recently.

"Is it? I wonder if that’s why, oh well. ready?" The doc spoke, pulling down on the lever beside her. Neither of you questioned her half finished statement.

———

As predicted, the planet was extremely beautiful. With soaring towers made from the pretty gem and buildings just the same. Roads of purple brick lined the streets, and even the royal guards donned that colour uniform. How did you know that? Well, apparently, your group were trespassing on an important festivity of the people. They had you locked up the second you were spotted. You hadn’t even been there an hour, only just getting into the city centre. Two guardsmen grabbed you, harshly taking you into the capitol building and down several floors. All three of you were thrown into an absolutely freezing cell, and told you’d be let out once the celebration was over. Once down there, it came as a shock to find you were not the only ones caught out of place. Furthermore, The Doctor looked baffled to find The Master pacing up and down. Now, you and Yaz were watching the timelords arguing. The blonde just couldn't believe that he was there in peace.

"I swear. I have no ill-intent." He sighed, throwing his head back against the wall. The master was across the room from you, leaving a hearty gap. As The Doctor was thinking of a good interrogation strategy, you made eye contact, and you smiled at him genuinely. To your surprise, he returned it. In your many encounters with the renegade timelord, you had honestly never been scared of him. Usually, he just made you laugh, somehow keeping you out of harms way.

"So, if you're not here to steal?" The doctor started, determined to get the truth out.

"Nope." He responded boredly.

"Raise an army?"

"No."

"Take over the Palace?"

"No."

"Kill the royal family?"

"No, Doctor!"

"Then why are you here?"

"To buy a present!" Eyes wide, you all stared at The Master completely shocked. That was unexpected. Smiling to yourself, you pat the empty space next to you. Yaz looked at you in question, but you just shrugged. 

"I dont think he's going to kill us. Relax." As you finished talking, The Master hummed and sat beside you. Opposite, The Doctor was watching him like a hawk. Exchanging a look of amusement, yaz sighed before joining her girlfriend. 

"You're buying someone a gift?" The blonde asked, unconvinced.

"Yep." He nod casually, eyes scanning the area as if searching for something. Your teeth were beginning to chatter quietly.

"Why here? There's whole planet's dedicated to shopping centres and gift giving." Rolling his eyes, The Master just stared at The Doctor blankly. As if her question was dumb.

"Well, the person I'm buying for really likes a certain colour that’s readily available here on Purpuartica." Sweet, he was clearly very considerate. Maybe he kept that part of him to himself. 

"You mean yourself?" Yaz's comment made everyone laugh. Even the man next to you scoffed lightly.

"No. Though I admit, she does have taste." He thought aloud, nodding in approval to no one in particular. As per usually, he was wearing his long tweed, purple coat. With the same colour waistcoat and shirt. More importantly, you noticed.

"Oh, a she?" You teased, hugging your knees tightly. It was getting exceptionally cold in there. Looking at you, he chuckled and gave a short shrug.

"Yes, why?" Grinning, you shivered lightly, trying to block out your environment.

"No reason." The Doctor watched you talking, realisation slowly dawning on her. He was so calm, so collected. Letting herself smile, she folded her arms. Clearly, she wasn’t feeling the cold like you and Yaz were.

"Didn’t take you to settle for anything less than yourself?" Turning to her, The Master sighed bitterly. He should have known she'd figure it out, but there was no need for the insinuated insult.

"She isn’t less than me, and you know that." He shot back, brows raised.

"I know, but think of the age gap!" She mocked his former self, making him roll his eyes. Giving the couple a pointed look, she deflated slightly. Looking out the tiny window, The Doctor frowned as a gust of wind blew in. The walls around the cell frosted over dramatically, and your arms tugged your knees closer to your chest. Giving the air a sonic, The Doctor let out a perturbed noise. 

"This isn't good. I hadn't planned to stay this long. It's only going to get colder." Next to her, yaz shook in her spot, cheeks deepening in colour. Instantly, the doc pulled her coat off and wrapped it around her, fastening it up. Yaz moved closer and allowed her girlfriend to hold her close. You watched them sadly, you had never felt more single. 

"Are they always this sickly?" The Master asked, shuffling towards you. Looking up at him, you nod.

"Yep. I deserve a medal for biggest third wheel." He laughed, resting his head back against the icy wall. Seeing as the doc and yaz were distracted with each other, you decided it wouldn't hurt; making conversation with The Master.

"You know, you reminded me I need to go gift shopping too." You told him, starting to shiver more violently. He looked you over, brows creasing. 

"You do?"

"Well it's nearly Christmas back on earth. Need to finish off my Christmas shopping." It was hard to speak, your lips were going numb. Subtly, The Master inched closer and began to unbutton his jacket.

"You like Christmas?" He asked curiously, getting the last button open. 

"I love it. Though, its pretty lonely." 

"Small family?" You shook your head, fingers loosing all feeling. Even when you rubbed your hands together, it was useless. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist. You were pulled down into The Masters chest and he wrapped his jacket around your form. Instantly, you were greeted with warmth and sank into his hold. Honestly, you didn't care if The Doctor or yaz could see. If she could be warm, you could be as well. 

"No. Just, every year, they continue to ask me why I'm single. Where's my boyfriend. It’s draining and very lonely." You explained, relaxing as the cold thawed out of your veins. Humming, The Master made sure his jacket reached around you properly. 

"Sounds it, love." Blushing, you chose to ignore the pet name. Your eyes grew heavy, the cold taking the energy away from you. The Master saw this, bringing his hand up to run through your hair softly. 

"Sleep. We'll be here a while longer."

———

"Well then. Why her?" The Doctor asked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up. Shrugging, The Master continued to thread his fingers through your hair.

"I dont know. Why her?" He shot back, motioning to yaz. Grinning, the blonde let out a laugh. Seems they were stuck in the same situation.

"So, what are you going to do?" She was curious, eyeing your sleeping figure. All he did was tug you in more, sighing to himself.

"Well, I have this plan." 

———

Laughter woke you and Yaz a few hours later, your eyes opened slowly. You found The Doctor and The Master cackling not so quietly. Yaz looked at you confused, sitting up.

“Woah, are you two actually getting on?” She asked, cracking her neck slightly.

“Don’t sound too surprised. We grew up together.” Shrugging, The Doctor rubbed her back affectionately.

“That’s really sweet.” You mumbled, staying against The Masters chest. He made no effort to move either of you. It warmed you, more than physically. It felt natural, it felt safe.

“If I’m right, which I usually am, we should be let out soon. Get you both home.” The Doctor told you both as Yazmine handed her coat back. You gazed up at The Master, curious.

“What about you?”

“Well. I have to get this gift.” He smiled down at you, rubbing your side. Noticing your uneasy look, he chuckled and tapped your nose affectionately. “Don’t you worry about me, love.”

———⭐️

About a week later, you were yet again in trouble. You were running like your life depended on it. Because it did. Somehow, The Doctor had landed in a cyberwar space station. Not that you knew exactly who they were fighting, but they were definitely organic, like yourselves. There was a moment in which you’d been spotted, fight or flight kicking in. Now you had been split up and you had been running for what felt like hours. Hearing stomping, you turned your head only to crash into something.

“Woah there.” Relief flooded your veins as you looked up to see The Master. He held your arms and, subsequently, you up. “What are you doing here?” He was baffled to see you, eyes roaming your figure for injuries and such.

“Doctor.” That was all that needed to be said. He sighed, quickly pulling you along the corridor. It seemed he knew the place well, you tilted your head, holding onto his hand easily. “Is this your doing?” You teased, earning a grin from the man.

“It might be.” He started, making you scoff. “But it really was an accident.” The Master took you into what seemed to be a control room, letting you go and messing around with a keypad. A metal door shut behind, a loud click to signal it was locked. Perhaps you should have felt worried, that you were alone with The Master. The man who tried to become The Doctor. The Man that created the “CyberMasters”. Also the same man that kept you out of harms way, who listened to you. No, you felt perfectly content in this situation. You sat yourself on a leather chair that was situated by one of the control panels. “So, the Doctor appears to be stuck two levels from us. And four levels from her blessed Tardis.” He informed you, causing you to sigh in annoyance. That really didn’t surprise you. “Don’t you worry dear. I’ll get her to us, then I’ll get you all away from here.” The Master chuckled, closing his eyes momentarily to ‘contact’ The Doctor. Once he’d done that, he strolled over to you. “So, finished your Christmas shopping?” His casual question caught you off guard, but it was nice to see he remembered.

“Nearly. Just one person left to buy for.” You huffed, thinking about your family back on earth. Noticing your tone, The Master nonchalantly moved you, slipping onto the chair. You found yourself almost in the man’s lap, little space left between you. Instead of complaining, you accepted your fate and leant against him.

“And who is that, you don’t sound particularly happy about it?” He inquired.

“It’s my aunty. We don’t always get on.” You said, wondering if he’d want to know of all your family drama.

“Oh? Why’s that?” It seemed he did. You pursed your lips, not knowing where to begin. There was a lot she had done. Then again, The Master may have just perceived you as dramatic. “That bad?” He commented, seeing as you hadn’t spoken for a moment.

“Yeah, it can be. She’s just really opinionated, and doesn’t like how I dress. Or my job. Or my hair. Or my personality.”

“I don’t think I like your aunt.” He cut in, a small laugh passing your lips. “Have you considered gifting her nothing? It seems that’s exactly what she deserves.”

“I fear that would make Christmas very awkward.” He tut at your response, taking you in fully. Twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers, he spoke again. “I happen to think your hair is very nice.”

“That’s only because it’s purple.” You laughed, not minding the closeness at all. The Master smirked, nodding his head in approval.

“Well of course.” Just then, there was loud banging on the steal door, making you jolt away from the man. Reluctantly, he got up with a grumble, opening the door with the press of a button. “Took you long enough.” He sounded annoyed, though you felt as though it was more about being interrupted. The Doctor came in a hurry with Yaz right behind her. Out of breath, the brunette shook her head.

“She couldn’t follow your instructions. Kept trying to find shortcuts.” Yaz baited her girlfriend out, earning a playful shove.

“Well it felt like he was giving us a longer route!” The Doctor exasperated, arms in the air.

“Why would he do that? To hurt (y/n)?” Yaz worried.

“No!” All three of you said in response to the girls question. She looked around surprised. The Master grunted under his breath, busying himself with finding a way up to the tardis. Smiling, you stood up and looked over his shoulder, watching what he was doing. In the background, you could faintly hear the women still discussing.

“But after everything he’s done?”

“Trust me Yaz, he will not harm her.”

“But how do you-“

“I just know.” You didn’t look back, not minding their conversation at all.

“When is Christmas Day, for you?” The Master, also ignoring the girls, asked you lowly. You thought for a second.

“Just a few days. The Doctor is going to drop me off after we get out of here. Then I’ll have the entire week with my family.” You said with a less than enthusiastic timbre, making the man chortle. It really wasn’t what you were looking forward to, except for seeing your parents of course.

“Would it help if I came alone, I know I could easily fix your problem.” It was a false threat, you knew that. You felt yourself smiling at his suggestion, shaking your head.

“As nice as your company would be, I don’t think hurting my aunt would fix things.” He looked at you, taking in everything you said with a short head bob. “Well then, maybe I’ll just pop in to say hi.” He grinned before turning round. “Right everyone, follow me!” The woman jumped, scurrying to follow you both down a ladder and to the Tardis. The Master helped you down from the ladder, holding your waist and bringing you back to the ground. There was a small blush on your cheeks, unable to meet the man’s eyes. His hand slipped into yours, as he walked along the metallic corridor.

“My tardis!” The Doctor cheered, running to the blue box in a flurry. The Master rolled his eyes, noting that Yaz had gone inside without a second thought. Gazing down at you, he let go of your hand grudgingly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a good Christmas. Trust me.” He winked, stirring both confusion and bashfulness inside of you. Giving him a smile, you waved and stepped into The Tardis.

———

The past three days had been tough, to say the least. The first day had been okay. You went to the markets with your parents, getting hot chocolates and wandering the stalls. The second day, the rest of your family arrived, which included your aunt.

“Oh god, what have you done?” Was the very first thing she had said upon seeing you, clearly meaning your hair. Thankfully your mother was there to distract her, but every chance she got, your aunt would make comments. Then, the third day, Christmas Eve, it had been even worse. Your aunt had gotten very drunk at the meal your father had planned. The whole restaurant could hear her yapping on. It was loud and obnoxious spiel, about the worst topics imaginable. Now it was Christmas morning, you were sat in your childhood bedroom, applying your make-up. Part of you felt insecure, even if you originally liked your outfit. An off the shoulder black top, paired with a short, mauve miniskirt and black boots. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed before finishing off with lip stick. In your youth, you’d traditionally open gifts first thing. However your aunt had decided it now had to be done after dinner, for some stupid reason. Either way, you picked up the last of your gifts for the family and brought them downstairs.

“Merry Christmas!” Your mother chimed upon seeing you, handing your uncle a plate of hot food. You smiled, greeting her too. After laying the gifts by the tree, you took a seat on the free arm chair and looked around. Your dad was chatting away with his brother, both eating a hearty fry up. Your mother still in the kitchen, grandparents all sitting at the coffee table.

“Will there be anybody joining you this year, (y/n)?” Your aunt questioned. She had already asked about your relationship status the first day you saw her.

“No.” You gave a short answer.

“Why am I not surprised.” She tut. “Maybe if you weren’t so difficult, then you’d find a suitable husband.” She lectured you, as your mother came in and handed you some breakfast.

“Yeah, I know.”

———

A few hours went by, dinner was still not ready yet and you were already growing tired. You weren’t sure how long you’d last under that woman’s gaze. Her eyes were like fire, burning you with their criticism. She had been ranting about the problems in society for a solid thirty minutes, and you were getting a headache.

“Take (y/n) for example.” She said suddenly, gaining your attention again. “The hair, the clothes and the tattoos, not to mention the jewellery. Her generation has no sense of class. None.” Your aunt peached, but no one really said anything. “Rude too. You never see any of them do anything for us!” A loud knock interrupted her, thankfully. You shot up, reassuring people that you’d see who it was. Even when you entered the hallway, you could hear her gibberish, though it was fading slightly. You really wanted to bang your head against the wall, but the knocking persisted. Pulling open the door, your eyes went wide at what you saw. Stood there, at your door, on Christmas Day, was The Master. His hair was curly, wearing a black shirt, covered by a maroon knitted vest, with a gift bag in hand. Before he could even say a word, you threw your arms around his neck, startling the timelord. He chuckled, bringing you in closer.

“What are you doing here? How did you even find my house?” You asked, pulling back from him with a smile. The Master looked down at you smugly.

“I told you that I’d pop by and say hi, I thought you’d appreciate it.” He really came, you thought as your eyes shone with gratitude. Giggling, you jumped up hugging him once again.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” You mumbled against his shoulder, relaxing when his arms encased you.

“Well, I could sense that you were distressed.” His hand ran along your back bringing you instant comfort. “How is everything going?”

“I don’t know how much more I can take.” You admitted to him, face pressed to his shoulder. The Master tightened his hold on you, letting out a short sigh.

“I’m here now, okay?” He reassured, clearly not liking how down you sounded. For a moment, you could forget about the mess of your extended family. Forget that right behind you, your aunt was probably still waffling on.

“(Y/n)? Who’s this?” Your mother’s voice suddenly brought you back to reality. Reluctantly, you pulled away from The Master and turned to face her. Ever confident, the male gave her a witty smile.

“Ah, I apologise. I’m (y/n)s work colleague, O. I thought I’d just drop off her gift whilst I was around.” He lied smoothly, impressing you. Your mother walked towards you both, smiling warmly at him.

“No problem at all, why don’t you stay for dinner? If you don’t have any other plans of course.” She was quick to ask, mostly for your sake it seemed. Even your mum knew how difficult her sister-in-law was.

“If it’s no trouble?” The Master was a very good actor, feigning his politeness. Shaking her head, your mother responded,

“None at all, come on in. It’s freezing out there.” Ushering him in, you closed the door behind and locked it. The Master looked at you simpering, allowing you to guide him into the living area. Everyone looked up, hearing people re-enter.

“Everyone, this is (y/n)’s work friend, he’s going to be joining us today.” Your mother spoke happily, most of your family nodding along with the news pleasantly. “Dinner will be ready soon, someone get O a drink.” She finished off before disappearing into the kitchen. You looked up at The Master expectantly.

“Oh, what are you drinking?” He questioned, understanding your look.

“Just lemonade, I don’t drink.” You let him know, a little bashful.

“She’s an odd one, isn’t she?” Confused, The Master spun around to find a short, older woman looking up at him. “Everyone needs a tipple at Christmas, don’t you agree?” Your aunt held up her sherry glass as if to prove her point. It didn’t take a genius to realise who the woman was, and The Master gave a chivalrous reaction.

“Oh I’m not a big fan of drinking, bad for the liver you know.” He eyed her, muttering under his breath “and the teeth.” You pressed your lips together having heard him. The Master peered at you, lips twitching slightly. “Just water will be fine, love.” Trying to ignore your slight blush, you got him a glass of cold water and took it into the dining room. Your mother was just finishing setting up cutlery.

“I’ve sat you and your colleague here if that’s alright?” She showed you the two seats, allowing you to put the drink in the right place.

“That’s great, would you like me to get everyone?”

“If you could dear.” Her eyes crinkled at you with appreciation, as she busied herself with putting everyone’s plates down. You returned to the living room, finding your secret alien ‘colleague’ wrapped in conversation with your father. It was a funny sight to see, but somehow, The Master didn’t looked too annoyed. Gathering everyone’s attention, you announced that dinner was ready and everyone soon filed into the dining room. When you went back, you found your mother had spread the food down the centre of the table. In the middle of it all, was the roasted turkey, accompanied by everything you could ever want. Bowls of stuffing and steaming veggies, large jugs of gravy, a tray of pigs in blankets and roast potato’s and carrots. There was also an array of sauces and condiments. You took The Master down the opposite end of the room to where your assigned seats were. He pulled out your chair, helping you sit before sitting himself. Whilst everyone was getting settled, you took the opportunity to talk to him.

“So, anything to say so far?”

“Your house is decorated quite nicely, I must admit.” The Master said, picking up his glass.

“I saw you talking to my dad?” You asked, curious as to what they could have been speaking about.

“Oh I overheard him talking to that man,” he nodded in a certain direction.

“My uncle?”

“Yes him, about the Bermuda Triangle. I had to join the conversation, it’s fascinating to hear what humans think goes on there.” He told you, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“Hm, he is a bit of a conspiracy theorist.” Hearing this seemed to intrigue the man beside you. Finally, your mother took her seat on the other side of you, giving the signal that people could start to plate up their dinner. Your father got to work carving the turkey, serving your grandparents first. You reached over, using the tongs to give yourself a few bits.

“What are those?” Confused, The Master pointed.

“They’re called pigs in blankets. It’s a mini sausage wrapped in streaky bacon. Do you want some?” He bobbed his head in confirmation, watching as you put some on his plate, along with a variety of vegetables too.

“Such a fascinating name.” The master mumbled. Your father had finished his but, placing the carving tools down for someone else to use. To your surprise, The Master was quick to pick them up, carving off some meat and putting it on your plate before his own. Noticing the gravy was in the jugs, you looked around for a moment before excusing yourself. You grabbed a small dip bowl from the kitchen before coming back and putting it to the side of your plate. Seeing how big the jugs were, you frowned a little, carefully pulling one closer to you.

“Do you want me to help?” The Master asked with a grin.

“Please?” You looked at him sheepishly. He immediately did just that, pouring some of the gravy into your little bowl.

“She’s an odd one isn’t she?” Your aunt cackled across the table, causing you both to look at her. Placing the jug down, The Master cocked his head a little.

“Why is that?”

“Well using a bowl like a child, just pour it all over like the rest of us.” She shook her head. The Master spied her plate, seeing it piled high and looking like brown sludge with all the gravy on there.

“I just wanted to dip my food instead.” You tried to explain, but it didn’t matter.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, (y/n). And she doesn’t have to do exactly what you do, either.” The Master said sternly, not looking back at the woman opposite him again. He glanced at you warmly, putting a hand on your knee. He could probably feel how cold you were to the touch. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, starting to eat your dinner.

“How is everything, O?” Your mother looked over hopefully. The Master offered her a kind look.

“Wonderful, thank you mrs (y/l/n).”

———

Dinner soon finished up, and you helped your mother and nan to clean up. They did shop you off after a few moments however, to which you went back to the living room.

“Ready for gifts?” Your uncle leered, getting all the presents ready.

“I just need to go get one last thing.” You realised, rushing back up to your room, grabbing a bag then heading back down.

“So, O is it?” You heard your aunt speak, stopping just outside the door.

“Yes?” The Master was sat on an arm chair off to the side, right by the fire too.

“You work with (y/n)?” She enquired as your mother was brining in the last of her surprises.

“I do, yes.” He lied, curious as to where this was going.

“Is she as incompetent in work as she is here?” Your aunt looked at him pointedly. It baffled him how she said that with no second thoughts.

“Actually I happen to think she’s exceptionally smart.” The master spoke casually, noticing the look of shock on the older lady’s face. You smiled to yourself outside the door, ready to walk back in.

“So, what are you, her boyfriend?” It seemed that question made everyone grow silent, waiting for his response. Your heart was in your stomach.

“And if I was?” He shot back, clearly unfazed. “I’d be lucky to have a girlfriend like her.” You swallowed hard, cheeks suddenly feeling very warm. The rest of your family began talking again, getting on with whatever it was they were doing. Taking a deep breath, you walked back into the living room trying to seem like you totally hadn’t been listening in. Then you noticed, no seats left. So, you went to sit on the floor by The Masters chair. You really didn’t mind much, plus you’d be warm by the crackling fire. A hand landed on your waist as you went to sit, making you look to your side. The Master guided you onto the chair with him, your legs falling over his lap. No one paid any notice, presents getting passed around the room in a flurry.

“And this one is for you, (y/n)” your father grinned handing you a wrapped box. Taking it, you quickly pulled off the colourful paper, happy to find something you’d been asking for the majority of the year. It was related to a band you enjoyed. Begrudgingly, your aunt thrust a gift into your arms. You forced a smile, opening up the tacky bag and peeking inside.

“Oh wow..” inside, was selection of make up. All different shades of bright eye shadows and lip colours. Ones you wouldn’t dare go anywhere near.

“I thought it could help to make you more appealing.” Your aunt said confidently, whereas you were at a loss for words. The Master tut, taking it off you and putting the bag to the side.

“By making her look like a clown?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Her style suits her perfectly. It’s just not your style.” He continued, shooting daggers at the woman. She huffed in annoyance but chose not to say another word. Your heart warmed at his protectiveness, making you quickly reach down and pick up a small bag.

“For you.” You said, his eyes glazing with bewilderment. The Master took the gift, opening it up carefully. From the bag, he pulled out a snow globe, taking it in for a moment. You really weren’t sure how he’d take the present, perhaps he’d think it was stupid. “I made it myself.” You clarified, trying not to show your anxiety. “I went to this pottery night last week, and I made your tardis in the middle see?” He looked at you with an indescribable look. “It’s where we first met, plus the shack is really cosy. And I made the exterior purple just for you.” Now you were just rambling, filling in the void of silence. The Masters eyes raked over you, considering your form with a tactical eye. Deflating, you looked down at your lap. “You hate it.”

“I love it.” The Master suddenly clarified, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His lips curled into a genuine smile, thumb rolling over your cheek soothingly. Leaning in, he left a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t remember the last time someone got me a gift, let alone made me something that held actual meaning.” Relaxing, you beamed up at him, happy that you could in fact, get a positive reaction from him. “Thank you, love.” Again, you blushed, following his movements as he picked up the gift bag he had brought with him. Once he’d pulled out a neatly wrapped gift, he extended the bag to your mother who was stood nearby.

“Oh this is very kind.” She exclaimed, taking out a very extravagant bottle of champagne. Both of your parents were very happy with the gift, all your family ogling the expensive drink.

“This is for you.” The Master said, giving you the wrapped gift. It was only a small box, but intriguing nonetheless. Tearing away the black paper, you found a maroon, velvet box, with a bronze clasp. Slowly, you opened the box and gasped at the sight. Inside, there was a ring, the band made from white gold and lined with tiny purple gems. In the middle, there was an oval amethyst, held in a crescent moon shaped piece of gold. The Master took the ring in one hand, gently holding your hand with the other. He slid the ring onto your index finger, your eyes widening as it automatically adjusted to your size. “Very pretty.” He muttered, making you nod.

“It is.” You agreed, admiring the ring. The Master chuckled, not letting go of your hand.

“I wasn’t referring to the ring, dear.” Your eyes met, a small smirk on his lips. “Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing, I love it. Thank you.” Trying to ignore his casual flirting, your attention fell back to the ring. He chuckled, tugging you closer to his side.

“I told you all I was on that planet for good reasons.” Suddenly remembering that day, your head shot up in a second.

“Me? You were buying the gift for me?”

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you love?” You nod at his question dumbly.

“But why?” You asked perplexed, trying not to get your hopes up too much. The Master hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Why do you think?” He simply said, not really giving an answer. “I meant what I said, I’d be lucky to have someone like you.” His touches were purposeful. “But I could never-“

“Why not?” You cut him off with a frown. He let out a breath.

“You know who I am, what I’ve done. I’m not worthy of someone like you.” The Master spoke sorrowfully, playing with the ring on your finger. Shaking your head, you replied quickly.

“That isn’t for you to decide.” He raised his brows.

“You treat me so well. You’re protective and dedicated, you found my house and came knowing I needed you.” Taking in your words, The Master shrugged slightly.

“But-“

“But nothing.” You said matter of factly. There was no way he would be winning that argument. “What if I want to be yours?” You mumbled incredulously, casting your eyes down to your lap. Feeling a hand on my cheek, The Master tilted my head back up to meet his gaze. He was smiling.

“You already have me, doll. I thought you knew that?” He grinned, my eyes lighting up in a second. “And if your family want here. I’d prove that to you.” The Master spoke in a hushed voice, your cheeks shining colour instantly. He chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer.

“If you two are done flirting, there’s more gifts to be shared over here!” Your uncle interrupted, making everyone in the room laugh. Even though you were blushing, you rolled your eyes and began paying attention to your surroundings. Everyone was in a joyous mood, even your aunt. Perhaps it was the sherry, but either way you were grateful. Leaning back into The Masters chest, you sighed contently as his arms wrapped around your waist. Surely, it would be a slight shock to The Doctor, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. His lips pressed to your head tenderly.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[solargeist]

What the relationships between different Hermits and Kid Xelqua are like:

POSITIVE!

Mumbo - Pretty positive all things considered. He manages to entertain him, and generally is a good uncle figure.

Scar - The favourite. Scar gives him unlimited access to snacks and all sorts of unhealthy food (much to Grian’s chagrin). Once gave him so much sugar, Xelqua entered a 5 hour long sugar rush. Grian still hasn’t forgiven him yet because it was an absolute nightmare.

Doc - Surprisingly positive. Despite Doc’s turbulent relationship with Grian, Doc has a soft spot for kids. He’ll drop any kind of tension when Xelqua’s around to not worry him. He’ll still absolutely body Grian, but usually when Xelqua isn’t looking.

Pearl - Due to her leniency, Xelqua likes her. He can get away with anything when she’s around and generally doesn’t impose any harsh rule of punishment on him

Etho - He just thinks Etho is cool (usually because he keeps maple candies in his pockets). An Ethogirl in the making.

NEUTRAL!

Joe Hills - He’s a living Sesame Street styled puppet and Xelqua keeps mistaking him for a normal puppet toy. He once nearly suffocated poor Joe by hugging him a little too tight around his neck.

Xisuma - Barely sees him and for good reason. Xisuma has enough on his plate as admin, he doesn’t need to have to add “babysitting a god” on his plate as well.

Impulse & Skizz - They help Grian out occasionally to watch over Xelqua. Typical fun uncles you can find, but Xelqua doesn’t know much about them or why Skizz gives him the heebie jeebies when he unfurls his Angel wings or when Impulse reveals his full demon form.

Gem - Like Impulse and Skizz, generally friendly with Xelqua, but he’s unsettled by her, but he doesn’t know why. Maybe he senses that Gem isn’t truly a deer satyr and something to do with the rustling in the forests and night and the lingering smell of blood on her.

NEGATIVE…

Cleo - She’s scary to him. Like how you would be scared of the principal when you were a kid in elementary school.

Cub - All the fireworks he uses this season are too loud for him. He has to cover his ears everytime he has to go near the shop.

Joel - Xelqua keeps walking in in Joel in the most embarrassing moments. Like seeing him cry in front of the statue of his wife because she isn’t in the server, falling down an entire flight of stairs, reading Iskall’s creepy Yandere letters, etc. There were several moments where Joel had to cover Xelqua’s mouth because he was about to air all his dirty laundry.

AKDNDJSKAK

of course Scar is the favourite, Xelqua would love his builds, he’d like the animals and Scars silly voices and rambles. He’d also love Scar’s off road wheelchair/ATV, it’s so fast ! He’d absolutely eat all of Scar’s snacks, he’d be talking a mile a minute when Grian shows to pick him up, he just silently glares at Scar.

I love when people draw Doc with Doccy on the server, just a big scary goat and his little goat kid, it’s why he has a soft spot around Xelqua, he’s so tiny. Tho I can only see them interacting if Xelqua accidentally ends up in his base area, got lost maybe. I think Xelqua wouldn’t be scared of Doc despite his looks bc 1) he looks like Scar’s zoo animals (big Goat) and 2) Doc has a kid too, so he’s gotta be safe. Grian is very confused when he sees Doc calling him.

The Joe Hills part almost made me choke AKDNDKSK Joe being a puppet is my favourite design it’s so silly. Xelqua watches a lot of TV, he’d be in awe… so happy to see a real life puppet… Grian has to grab his hands to stop him from choking Joe out.

I think Xelqua would just be intimidated by Cleo at first, he’d warm up to her ! Him being scared of Cub bc of the fireworks is so true tho, Xelqua very much hates the noise and is actively afraid of thunder, he’ll wake Grian up if a storm rolls in at night, and probably hide behind him if a firework went off and no one told him it’d be so loud !

poor Joel 😭😭⁉️⁉️ tho if Joel grabbed Xelqua and covered his mouth like that, Grian is immediately there, he crosses the room so quickly man Watchers don’t play around abt their kids 😭💥 Grian doesn’t even realize he moved or separated them, for a split second his brain didn’t see this as a joke or playing around. Joel gets to see those purple eyes up closeeee and shouts

this was very cute and silly to read ehehehe, also for some reason I think Xelqua would think that Xisuma is Grian’s uncle, no idea how he came to this conclusion.

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT: 13 Months “Such a fickle thing”

“Recording now, starting dialog in 3, 2… Alright! Another month, another recording for the good doctor to listen to. You better be listening to this Theodore. Ugh, your name sucks, bad mouthfeel. I'm just gonna stick with doc. So then, where to start. It's a bit hard to focus on any one topic. A lot can happen in 30 days. Not to mention this isn't my first recording this month. I’ve been having trouble creating memories lately, so it’s nice to have a way to note things down. It's certainly been an interesting time to say the least.

Ok, I'll be honest, things have been rather difficult lately. I've been experiencing severe sharp pains in my whole body nearly everyday. Moving around without assistance is impossible some days. The theory goes that it stems from internal organs changing into slime, but most of my organs should already be made out of goo. At least according to Mayday's journals. But the pain is still there, and I can't understand why it won't disappear… At least I'm getting used to it. I'd rather not have the staff here constantly worried about me. Val, the head witch, offered some potions to help alleviate the pain. I sort of declined out of habit, but then I collapsed in the hallway. She insisted after that. They ended up helping a little bit with clearing my head. Wait, should I be starting at the beginning of the month? The pains really only started a week ago. How do you want me to present these? My memory is worse than I thought.”

“Ok just to be safe, let's go back to the start of the month, when you got back to me on that chunk of skin I sent in, and we found out it's made of fat, lye, and a few other particulates. Lye is the biggest component I'm made of, which makes sense. It's what a lot of soaps are made of, and it's what allows this body to jellify any meat I consume and break it down. It's kinda gross but it's a little cool at the same time. The other bits found though, well, I know you said it was nothing to worry about, but something about finding traces of dentin and enamel, something about it doesn't sit right. You mentioned it's just my dissolved teeth, still stuck inside, but they turned to rubber around 10 months ago, and eventually turned to goo. Shouldn't that mean a different material would be floating around if the hard tissues had already transformed? But the alternative ideas are, distressing, to say the least. And to say the most, if I start growing teeth from my skin, I will see how many lawsuits it takes to bankrupt you doc.”

“Moving back to the discussion of skin. My face and neck are now fully covered, besides the lips and eyeballs. Thanks to the numbing potions, it only tickles a bit. You don't want to know what it feels like when they wear off. I’m probably not going to be awake for most of the next month due to my face dissolving in on itself. I've heard horror stories from other slimes about getting your eyes and organs dissolved. Can’t say I’m looking forward to that. I’ll just have to ask the staff to be ready when they end up hearing screaming coming from my room. Though, come to think of it, my organs are already made out of goo right? It feels like they’re still holding their shape and even normal functions. Maybe it just, won’t, hurt when they’re integrated and dissolved? I'm already dealing with a lot of pain now, what happens when it really starts getting bad. Abigail was right about how dangerous this medication could be…"

“No, can't go thinking about that stuff now. Let's just try talking about something else. Oh! We can talk about eating! Ever since we found out what I’m made of, I’ve had a bit of a change in diet. Lots of fatty meats. Turns out I no longer digest plants anymore. I’m a pure carnivore. Abigail and I are planning a trip outside of Hyper city to visit this great little sushi place we used to go to. I hope they don’t mind if I just order a few whole fish. Er, yeah, I can’t deny I'm eating a lot of food. You’d imagine with no greens, grocery bills wouldn’t hurt the wallet so much. Well turns out meat is expensive, and when you buy a lot of it… Well I’m just glad T.H.E.M.S gives me a place to sleep."

Besides a diet change, I’ve been conducting my own experiments. It’s nothing too dangerous, I’ve just been ingesting different types of poison. Wait, no, hold on, before you speed dial my number! Ok, so I’m not doing something crazy like eating nightshade or anything, just the stuff I can find growing around here like ivy and those berries birds eat. But Lye is a type of poison. I think. So it makes sense that similar chemicals could be incorporated. After all, I don’t seem to have any acid inside me, it’s just poisons and venoms that break down cells, so I should be able to make different kinds. Figuring out how is still a process of trial and error, but don’t worry. I am being careful about it. So please, don’t get mad at me… Besides, imagine if I did learn how to control that sort of thing, I could create a bunch of different chemical compounds! I could be a walking chemistry lab!… Actually that sounds like it’d involve even more city paperwork. Let’s just keep that idea to ourselves, ok doc? And before you say anything! No, the poison is not causing my spikes of pain! That’s not how they work!”

“What else, what else to talk about… Have I talked about the memory troubles yet? It's been a bit of a disaster when it comes to scheduling anything. I need at least five reminders on my phone for any kind of appointment, and even then, you know I've missed a few checkups. I think my brain is getting replaced with slime instincts. I've been enveloping a lot of things without noticing. Arms and legs have been absorbing things without so much as a thought going into them. I spent a solid three hours searching for my phone only to feel it vibrate inside later and most of that time was spent trying to remember what I was searching for. I don't even know how it got there, I left it on my bedside table. I've heard a lot about what other therians have referred to this sort of mental change as a crossroads. Is that approaching? Did Mayday already agree to go through with it, and that's why I'm here? I feel like I'm losing my mind. End recording.”

“Ok, new tape… I think. Recording supplemental now. I have a theory about all the odd changes that have been going on. I looked back on Mayday's first journal. She somehow never made much thought about the doc mentioning the addition of chromatophores, a type of cell found in color changing animals. Though it seems they still haven't formed since I can't change colors at all. Combine that with my limbs moving on their own… There's a good chance that quack doctor combined some type of animal into the slime medication. Like an octopus, or a cuttlefish. It doesn't explain the bits of teeth floating around inside me, but the more I talk about it outloud, the more I realize I need to confront him about what exactly I'm taking. This doesn't feel like it's just a slime HRT, not anymore at least. I just have to remember to confront him. Memories are getting worse, concentration is completely shot from the pains. I just have to remember. I just need to remember… I just need to… I… I'm… hungry………………………

“hm? A recorder? Oh right! I was recording for the doc today, I'll send him this later. I feel so famished right now, when I get too hungry I start forgetting things and all that. Well… bye!”

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Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

[thelegendofmik]

Shoe HC's for the Chain bc why tf not lmao

Legend

CONVERSE BITCH THRU AND THRU.

He exclusively wears converse.

He has a pair that Ravio embroidered cute designs on for him.

He has a pair that has been absolutely vandalised to hell and back.

Warriors

VANS

He has so many pairs of vans its actually not funny

(its giving straight skater boi vibes sorry wars u bi queen)

in formal scenarios he wears oxfords. Because he is a pretentious bitch (but we love him for it)

Time

He has a single pair of high quality, custom made leather boots that can be used for everything.

Except they make that click-clacky sound when walking on the ranch's hardwood floors and Malon hates it

So when he's at home he putters around in Malon's slippers (she deliberately buys them several sizes too big so that Time can wear them)

Twilight

He too, has a singular pair of boots but they are closer to cowboy boots than anything.

His however, do not make the clicky sound that Time's do (Malon: honey, why don't you have a quieter pair like Twi's? / Time: the clicking is a sign of authority, thank you very much!)

Hyrule

DOC MARTENS BITCH

He has the classic docs that he wears until they are literally unwearable. And then he covers them in duct tape and wears them for like another year until he is convinced to get a new pair.

When he does get a new pair, he doesn't stop complaining about how much of a bitch they are to break in.

Wind

Tetra bought him a pair of Nike TN's.

He only wears them so he doesn't offend Tetra (he is unaware of it but he is down bad for her)

Aryll thinks they're hilarious and will take every opportunity to make fun of her brother.

TN's aside, he would wear regular sneakers. Nothing too fancy.

Four

CROCS

Four wears crocs. I don't know why, its just the vibe

The colours have their own colour coordinated pairs

The different charms they have are incredibly telling about their individual personalities

Red wears his with socks.

Green is indifferent to socks.

Blue and Vio are violently against crocs and socks.

Minish Four wears gumboots. Teeny tiny Minish-sized gumboots.

Sky

BIRKS

He would totally wear Birkenstocks

Him, Sun, and Groose have matching pairs

He has lost several shoes while riding Crimson (Birks are NOT practical loftwing-riding shoes)

Wild

SHOES ARE A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY

If he has to wear them, he would wear thongs (flip-flops for the americans out there).

Flora can wrangle him into boots once in a blood moon.

[rlbbackup]

A year in review - 2024 (SxF)

So, after reading the lovely @unhappy-sometimes's 2024 retrospective (which I highly recommend you read!), I thought I'd do something similar!

This will be pretty long and have lots of links and tags but I hope you enjoy this little romp I took down memory lane about all the fics I wrote this past year!

All for Naught

This was a fic that was inspired by a conversation with @glacialdawn and I wrote it up completely in 12 hours. I’m not exaggerating! We were just goofing off in dms and we got on the topic of Yuri’s decision to become an SSS officer and how it relates to Yor’s raising him…and it evolved from there. 

All in all, I’m VERY proud of how this fic turned out. Having it be solely from Yor’s POV and forcing her to deal with an abrupt change in how she views her brother was a lot of fun. Of all the reveals that may or may not happen in SxF, I personally feel that the Briar Siblings reveal will be the most critical. Yeah there’s betrayal involved in the TwiYor one and Anya’s reveal will likely end in bloodshed, but Yor has hid what she needed to do to raise Yuri for over a decade and a half at least. And while she admits that her brother is intense, seeing him in his work environment would probably shatter something within her. The work of the SSS isn’t glorious. Neither is that of an assassin. 

All this to say that with this as the start of my fics in 2024, I’m not surprised how later fics turned out XD

Hypothetically…

While my Post-reveal, Pre-relationship series has been written almost entirely out of order, I really enjoyed the inspiration that led me to writing this one. When I saw this post by @itsmechini, the words almost poured out of me. Twilight and Yor have had a lot of things taken from them in life, things that ultimately made them who they are but they didn’t have a choice or say in the matter. Having the choice to reveal who they truly are to each other and accepting the other for who they are feels like a healing of that particular wound and I couldn’t help but put pen to paper. 

I was also inspired by the writing style of the lovely Puolain while writing this, leading me to use different scene change styles and I think it flows better because of it! 

I will also admit that I cried several times while writing this, especially at Yor’s answer to a hypothetical question asked. Beyond that, this was a really cathartic fic to write and I’m glad I got to share it with you guys!

Side by Side and Locked in Tight

THIS FIC.

It’s been bouncing around in my head for a long time now, since I love the song that inspired this (Cop Car by Sam Hunt - there is also a version by Keith Urban, but the Sam Hunt version feels softer so I’m going with that one XD). I had an early draft of this fic existing in my Google docs since… 2021 I think? Right after I fell down the Ken/Anya shipping cavern and haven’t wanted to climb back out.

But actually writing this fic was a STRUGGLE until talking prompts out with the people in the SxF Rare Pair server. While it was a NSFW prompt, handcuffs just broke through the fog I’d had regarding this plot idea and BOOM I was finally able to post it. 

While Ken has some of the shortest character involvement in SxF, I love this kid. I get he’s practically an OC at this point, but I’m okay with that and I love playing around with how he’d interact with the Cecil Hall Gang. I want them all to be friends. Anya should have more friends!

Anyway! I go back and read this fic from time to time and I’m still happy with it. Especially the twist at the end XD

Don’t forget to lock the door

Another fic created with the help of the Rare Pair Server! (love you guys!)

One thing that makes me laugh constantly in SxF is the fact that the Forger’s apartment has a deadbolt but it looks like the Forgers never use it XD. Imagine all those times people barged into the apartment stopped by a simple use of a sliding lock 🤣So, why not make it a plot point of a fic!

I blame @creativwit for this ultimately. Though it was a pleasure to write Twilight and Franky needling each other and Yor soothing both of them. On a second/third/however many times I’ve read this thing, I still love how they are soft with each other in their own ways.

Little Black Number

A fic inspired by my own art!

Sometime in 2023, I was talking to some friends on discord when I was reminded of Princess Diana’s “Revenge Dress” that she wore after then Prince Charles’ “Tell All” interview where he sort of hinted at being unfaithful to her during their marriage. This spiraled into “I’m pretty sure Yor would look fantastic in the Revenge dress” and going from there.

Now, based on anecdotal evidence, it’s believed by myself and others that SxF takes place mostly in an alternate version of the 1960s. Endo-Sensei does mix things about the world regarding technology in his story, but the fashion is straight out of 1960s fashion magazines. So, the revenge dress is way out of the possibilities. Still. I think the dress would look good on Yor and drew it!

The dress I describe in the story is notably different (namely that the skirt is ankle/floor length versus the above knee design of the inspiration). 

To the story itself, I really want Yor to have friends and while I’m still wary of Melinda I think the two of them could be close! So I wrote about them having girl time together, bonding even when they are in two different social groups and where they can compromise on things. It was a quick and fun write! I really loved this one!

A moment of weakness

This fic was inspired by @/usleepover's art on Twitter!

Like most of the other fics mentioned here, this was inspired by chats on Discord. I have USleepover and @astersugar for this. Long before ch. 109, we were wondering what would lead these two to interact, and guessed that it would probably involve Dr. Forger’s office. Now…that conversation spiraled into something wildly different from what I did in this fic, but it did inspire me.

As a little more background, I have had a fic in the background for a year and a half now where Yor experiences a medical emergency and how the Forgers’ lives change as a result. I have no idea when or if I will ever post that fic since it’s…heavy. Emotionally and mentally heavy. But I was able to write this in relation to it. While I’m not specific in what ails Yor, I did leave enough for one to guess. Like it’s larger, heavier sister, this fic took an emotional toll on me. Having someone you love in the hospital and not being able to do a damn thing to help them is…difficult. I can’t put into words exactly how difficult that is. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, that’s how bad it is. So writing Loid and Melinda come to terms that they are out of their depths and still want to do something for Yor was cathartic in a way. I’m really happy with how this one came out and still reread it on occasion.

Rendezvous

I half blame @sister-cna-reader for this 🤣Her Hidden Under Roses’ Au with McMahon and Sylvia has me in a CHOKE HOLD and I was sunk for this ship from the start. So I decided to write about it. The other person I “blame” for this is @/Ari_Gateau on AO3 for encouraging me and ultimately giving me the prompt idea in the first place! You both are wonderful and I love you dearly!

I went back and forth on where in any timeline to put this, but ultimately decided that my PRPR verse was the best place. With Twilight and Thorn Princess revealed to each other, I could see their handlers also involved in that. Handler and Director aren’t exactly friends, but they are allies enough to watch each other’s backs if they find themselves on an assignment where they have aligned goals. 

Leaving this fic with the ending I did was a choice I also debated internally but I like it! And I guess that’s what matters 🤣

Pink Sakura

OH BOY THIS FIC.

The inspiration for this hit me upside the head very suddenly on Kiss Day (May 23) and I decided to choose violence. Like with Side by Side and Locked in Tight, I pulled my “canon but mostly an OC” buddy Ken back for some hanahaki “fun” 🤣This one is in the same universe as Flowers and Thorns, but this is clearly the angster younger sister. And once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. I wrote for almost three days straight before I was ready to post this. But it was worth it.

Adding Anya’s chapter wasn’t something I had originally planned (not that there was much planning involved in this fic 🤣) but once I finished Ken’s chapter, I realized there were some pretty glaring plot holes. So I used Anya to fill them and I think that worked out really well! I know hanahaki isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I enjoy it and I’m glad I wrote this one!

New Moon Blues

I return to my Myth Au! 👏 I’ve mentioned this in my author notes, but this whole au was developed by several people (@httplovecraft1890 , @gonnahypatia, @whatroguewrites, @awphooey2u, @juuyeah and @connoisseursdecomfort) and started by @foxtamer113. I couldn’t have made this without everyone’s inputs!

This one was a plot we had discussed ages ago. I think once we nailed Loid and Yor’s roles down, we almost immediately started brainstorming how Anya fit into their lives. We pretty much made her their biological child from the start (if my memory serves me), which I genuinely love in Aus. We did debate over HOW she was born, even though we agreed that she would be a baby goddess. One of the ideas mentioned was something about mingling blood and tears but we decided that the "Athena" route was much more fun to play with. In the end, I altered it just a bit mostly because of inspiration from a comment on the story before this one (Soothing Rays). (thank you to that commentor! I can’t find it right now, but you are amazing!)

Floodgates / Throwing Away Fate (just to keep you safe)

These fics are a RIDE my guys. 

First off, Floodgates was originally a gift from the lovely @creativwit and I hijacked it because of conversations about this au on discord 🤣(like several others on this list amirite??) The idea of Kasper came from those conversations and we’ve grown insanely attached to him. Originally, he was going to be the contact that Garden silenced in ch 43, but we loved him too much to do that.

Since then, we had this idea of what would happen if Franky really did end up in Garden’s crosshairs, and Wit wrote the first chapter of Floodgates as a start. I’m pretty invested in Yor as a fault, so I kept thinking about how she would handle this situation and ended up writing the “interludes” for this fic. I’ve since renamed those chapters to the lyrics of Loyal, Brave, True by Christina Aguilera since that’s the song I primarily write these chapters to. 

Throwing Away Fate is a prequel (hence why i’m mentioning it here) and was pulled from those same conversations. I love the idea of Kasper already been head over heels for Franky before the real action gets going in Floodgates, so I wanted to explore how he found Franky and went on this adventure running from Garden. Originally, I had wanted to write more (up until they are found in Floodgates ch. 1) but I was running out of steam and didn’t want to force myself any farther. Maybe one day I’ll (or wit, or both of us together) write the scene where Shopkeeper finds Kas. That might be fun 😈

Crosslegged in the Dim Light

Unlike the song this title is drawn from, it’s pure fluff! I saw this art by EvuriKigen and immediately started writing. There wasn’t much thought put into the development of this fic since I just started writing. The only thing I did think was that I wanted this to be in my Post Reveal/Pre relationship series, where even though Twilight and Yor have all their cards on the table, sometimes they don’t need to talk about the specifics of their jobs. They know and trust their partner, and that’s really the point of this story. 🥰

Inferno

Shifting gears pretty abruptly, we once again dive into my chats over discord 🤣While I will grumble about how Yuri’s superior doesn’t have a name 😒, I love the dynamic Endo-Sensei set up for the First Lieutenant (I know in the English version he’s called “Captain” but the Japanese says “First Lieutenant” so that’s what I’m going with!), Yuri and Chloe. So I wanted to expand on that outside of their tracking down WISE agents. 

And while I know there is no evidence of any of them being closer than colleagues, my shipping brain just loves the idea of Chloe at least admiring her superior. Hence This fic. 

Like Crosslegged in the Dim Light, I wrote this one very quickly and with little thought about plot. I’m pretty happy with this one!

7 Minutes in Heaven

This one was a beautiful joint venture with @cambot77, @sister-cna-reader, @strangeduckpaper and @creativwit! As with several of the last fics, this one started it’s life on discord. It was our original hope to have this done by Kiss Day (May 23) but that changed as we all kept writing. It was a blast!

Writing out a list of all the pairs to start off was a treat because I kept randomly forgetting some of them XD. But we got them all and planned out a vague idea of what could happen in each chapter. Then I used an online spinner to divide up the ships that hadn’t been previously claimed. After confirming that everyone was happy with what they had, we made the order. 

Ao3’s Collections and Co-author features really helped us here and reading everyone’s chapters brought me genuine joy. It’s so wonderful watching how all of our different writing styles and takes on the characters fit together as a whole. I honestly cannot pick a favorite chapter since I love them all. Thank you all again, my dears. This project was so much fun!

Complicity

The fact that it took me 9 months to finish this one is still astounding to me 🤣I had planned for All For Naught to be a stand alone, but then I saw a prompt on the @dailytwiyorprompts tumblr and that quickly flew out the window!

Seeing everything from Twilight’s perspective and going through his mental gymnastics was honestly a blast. Not sure if there will be a follow up to this duology or not, but anything’s possible.

Psyche

The last fic I started in 2024. This is a gift for the lovely @cantareincminor and was something she requested specifically. Her prompt was: “Mole hunt arc with a twist: Garden sends Thorn Princess to Shellbury to assassinate Wheeler. Instead of Nightfall, Thorn Princess is the one to stumble upon Wheeler and Twilight. She absolutely mops the floor with Wheeler and saves Twilight. Up to you whether his mask is off or on—could be awesome either way if she believes her husband or her brother is in danger.”

No going to lie, I was completely surprised when this developed into a 10k first chapter. The second chapter is still in the works and looks like it may also end up about that length and there’s no clue about the 3rd. But I want to talk about the inspirations behind this fic beyond the prompt. 

The title for this fic changed multiple times as I was writing it and probably spent more time as “untitled” than anything else. But within the day I posted it, I was struck by Orpheus by Cantare herself! I honestly love mythology (as my Myth series shows I hope 😅) and considered the wider plot of where this story would go. Without giving away too much, the story of Eros and Psyche just fits. Yor is the wife that doesn’t truly know her husband and through some twist of fate ends up finding out. While this story won’t be a one-to-one retelling of the myth, there may be echoes found within it until the end. And I’m really excited to share that with you all!

Honorable Mention: Sleeping with the Telephone

While I started this fic back in Nov 2023, a lot of it has been written in 2024. This fic has been an honest to goodness rollercoaster to write…and it’s not done yet. 

In my author’s note, I mention that I originally wrote part of the first chapter as a one shot on my RP blog, but it has developed moreso than I could have anticipated. There are a lot of themes in this, from draftees suddenly leaving their children and spouses behind, to family dynamics and the struggles therein, how war impacts relationships as a whole, and the like. Of course most, if not all, of these are addressed in Spy x Family, but bringing the war back to Ostania and having them fight another country entirely was interesting. 

Unlike the phenomenal @niregonnagiveyouup’s Not a Vein of Stars (which i HIGHLY recommend), I wanted to base this story around some of the hot conflicts during the Cold War. The US and USSR were infamous for recruiting other countries to help fight “their own” wars (like the Philippines sending troops to South Korea and The Warsaw pact sending troops to fight with the USSR in Albania). This still happens in the present day (such as the UK sending troops to Afghanistan and Belarus to Ukraine), even if it’s not to the same insanity that WW2 was. I don’t like it. I never have liked war, and writing this story from the perspective of a family being caught in the proverbial crossfire helped me hate it all the more.

But this story is a passion project of mine. I’m at the home stretch and re-reading this story to center myself for that happy ending I’ve promised myself really helps me love it all the more. Someday soon that fic will have a complete next to it’s name and I can’t wait. 

I know this was long as heck, but thanks for sticking with me! I didn’t realize I had written so much this past year since I took a break for a good chunk of it. But in hindsight, I’m really proud of how all of these works turned out and want to thank everyone who read, left kudos and/or comments. You all are wonderful!

Happy 2025 everyone! Here’s to more stories! 🍾