#though they might make her 'darker' in a sense to try and get away from the whitewashing complaints? i wouldnt put it past them

[authorhjk1]

Hi! Hope you can make something spectacular of Joy in this pls. The kind to easily suck her nonstop iykwim. 🥵

Blue

(Joy X Male Reader)

"You taste delicious."

You mumble into Joy's pussy, before taking a deep breath.

"I-Oh!"

Joy's words are cut off, when you resume eating her out.

After Seulgi gave in to the temptation, you were sure the rest of them would as well. And you weren't surprised at all, when it was Joy who took your hand and let you out of the girls' dressing room.

In this very moment, Irene is doing her job as a host for one of the music shows, while you are devouring her bandmate's sweet pussy.

Just like Seulgi, Joy doesn't have a clue that Irene is in on this as well. She thinks you are cheating on her leader.

You are still surprised that both women are completely fine with fucking a taken man. Even if it's one of their best friend's boyfriend. Although, you do remember that Joy and Irene had an argument this morning. You don't know what it was about. But this might be the reason, why Joy is doing is. Or at least one of the reasons.

"Oh, fuck. Your tongue."

Joy whines as she feels your tongue pressing on her clit.

"H-How isn't unnie constantly sitting on your face?"

Her lewd question makes you smile into her pussy as you keep eating her out.

While Irene does like to be fucked in front of the others, receiving oral is something she deems too intimate for the girls to see. It doesn't make sense to you, since she would happily suck you off in the living room, while they watch TV.

"Fuck! I'm gonna-!"

Joy's body trembles, her legs close around your head.

"Oh god!"

Her loud cry makes you wonder, if Irene can her hear. The two of you aren't that far away from the stage.

Joy cums on your face as you lap up her juices. She tastes similar to Seulgi, but sweeter.

As you reappear from underneath her dress, you see Joy's face after a while. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes darker than usual.

"I wanna suck your dick."

She bites her lip, once she says those words. She can't help but get turned on even more at the thought of stealing Irene's boyfriend.

You push Joy to her knees in return, while you stand up. Your pants follow her to the floor a moment later.

"I can finally appreciate it, without her being in the way."

Joy's eyes glisten with, well... joy.

She quickly wraps her lips around your cock and starts sucking. She knows the two of you don't have much time left. The other girls will be looking for her soon and Irene is almost done too.

"Damn, baby."

Your moan makes Joy put in even more effort. The fact that you called her that, instead of Irene, almost makes her ruin the floor she is kneeling on.

"That's a good girl."

You sigh, holding her hair back, while you watch Joy in action.

Eventually, you do want more though. After a couple of moments, you slowly push her head off your cock.

"I want to fuck you."

Joy smiles up at you. She lets your dick fall out of her mouth, before gathering her saliva and spitting on it.

"How do you want me?"

She coats your cock in her saliva with her hands as she asks.

"Just try to be quiet."

You reply, knowing that she probably won't be able to.

After helping Joy off her knees, you lead her towards the couch and make her sit on it. The dressing room is right to Red Velvet's, where the other girls are, so you do hope she is not gonna be too loud. Instead of just fucking her on her back, you hook your arms underneath Joy's legs and fold her in half. Her knees are now pressed against her chest and her pussy reveals itself as the hem of her blue dress rides up.

"I'm gonna breed you now."

"Oh fuck, yes."

Joy gasps as she hears your words. You align yourself with her pussy and then you push inside of her.

"Dump all of that cum in me, baby. I want everything that's meant for her."

You have to laugh internally. Irene was right. Joy has a breeding kink. You don't know how she knows, but you appreciate her telling you.

"I'm gonna give you all of it. Your pussy will drip with my cum, while you talk to her."

Joy's eyes roll back as you start fucking her into the couch. The position she is in makes her look smaller than she actually is. And easier to handle. You use Joy's pussy like a fleshlight as you have your way with her. The only thing she can do is moan and whine. She can't move.

"Pound my pussy, yes!"

You want to quiet her, by leaning over and kissing her, but you know you wouldn't be able to keep up this pace at the same time.

"Oh god!"

Joy moans and moans as you fuck her. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper. It's the perfect angle for your cock to penetrate her fully.

Joy's slick pussy is harder to resist than you thought. Soon, her juices make it too easy to slide inside of her. Her walls squeeze you too tight. Her eyes beg too much. Her moans are too loud. Her thighs feel too good in your hands.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Fill me up! Dump your load into your girlfriend's friend!"

You would laugh at her for not knowing what's actually going on, if she wouldn't be making you cum right now.

"Fuck Joy."

You hiss into her face as you shoot your load into her. Rope after rope of your cum paint her insides. You fill her to the brim with your seed.

"Yes, baby."

Joy sighs, the warmth of your cum overwhelming her.

[yumeka-sxf]

So much happened in today's new chapter! Anya got both a stella AND a tonitrus, we find out just how exceptional she is at classical language to the point of ranking second and Twilight actually questions her about it, more Desmond backstory along with...

...his first apperanace!

After being shrouded in mystery all this time, we finally get to see Demetrius. Of course, like the other Desmonds, he brings up more questions than answers. What exactly is his relationship with his dad, if it's not how Damian imagined it was? And why were his thoughts so...odd? I was especially weirded out when Anya couldn't read his mind at first.

It could have been that she was too far away, but I feel it has something to do with the way he thinks...like, maybe he trained his mind to the point where he's not continuously thinking things like most people and his thoughts come in quick spurts only. Could it be something that Donovan instilled in him from a young age?

I loved how Anya's reaction to getting a stella and getting a tonitrus were only slightly different 😅 More darker lines and sweat for the tonitrus.

Anya had some great faces in this chapter, (as did Twilight), but I think my favorite was this one!

I was also happy to see some soft Twilight moments. Not only did he congratulate Anya on her stella while not harping on her tonitrus, he even gave her a head pat, something we haven't seen in a long time.

Something else we haven't seen in a long time: drunk Yor! (at least at home). Did she spend all night on the couch or did she eventually make it back to her room with Loid's help?

When Twilight questions Anya about why she might be so good at classical languages, she says she doesn't know, which makes sense. Most kids don't remember much before Anya's age. So even after all this, and even though it's clear just how good Anya is at classical languages, we're still not closer to knowing why!

Meanwhile, still nothing suspicious about the Authens.

But now that Demetrius is officially in the mix too, they're not the only new and mysterious characters we have to keep tabs on now!

Also Anya trying to channel Desmond energy at the end, lol. Trust me girl, you don't want to have minds like theirs!

It seems like this mini arc is over, at least the part about the exam results. I wonder if we'll keep learning more about Demetrius and the classical language thing, or if that's all we're getting for a while. Either way, I'm excited!

[youthereader]

Gator catches you.

PAIRING: gator tillman (fargo) x teenage fem!reader

SUMMARY: 2.4k. Gator finds you on the edge of town after he lets you get away.

RATING: e; NONCON, mentions of underage drinking and drug use, reader is an 18 year-old high schooler, unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, public sex, gaslighting, angst, dead dove do not eat

A/N: this took a much darker turn than the first part. I didn't plan on writing more for this character but a couple people wanted more. this is a dark fic, so if it's not your jam, turn away now.

Part 1. (Gator blackmails you.)

You sense that your friends are suspicious after Gator Tillman caught you and not them that night. They ask about what happened and you lie, saying you managed to talk your way out of it, he let you go with a warning.

They’re thankful, initially, because you never ratted on them, though they deserved it for ditching you. Then you feel them start to pull away from you, especially after you blow a couple of your male friends at parties. It’s not like you, and that’s the point. You’re chasing a high you can’t get from guys your age. You blow them, and they enjoy it, but what makes you a target from then on is how quickly it happened. Two guys in the space of forty-eight hours.

Rumors start around school and it eventually gets back to you, that you’re a slut now, and random guys that have never spoken to you before ask for your Snapchat and harass you in-between classes about hanging out on weekends. The attention is weird, and so obvious. You’ve never been known for anything before, and now you exist.

The emptiness you feel from hooking up since Gator frustrates you, but nothing is worse than how unsatisfied you feel every time you make yourself come. The relief is so fleeting, that within seconds of finishing you need more. No fantasy is enough, and you’re at it night after night, not sleeping enough.

Your grades aren’t suffering yet but your homeroom teacher asks to see you, expressing their concern. They say you’re not yourself, you don’t seem as happy. Honestly, you’re not. Things felt less complicated before. You used to not search the main road of town for anyone. You used to want to be invisible.

To let off steam, you go to a party with those same shitty friends, but this time some college guys are there with weed and pills. You smoke a little, but drink more, end up under one of them but don’t remember much of it. The next morning, a friend pulls you aside, a smirk barely hidden as she asks:

“You know we heard you begging that guy to choke you, right?”

The humiliation hits you and you shake your head. “Fuck off. I’m not into that weird shit.”

“Your kink’s your kink, dude,” she retorts, shrugging. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Shut the fuck up, because it’s not my kink,” you snarl, and her eyes flash with irritation.

“Whatever.”

The anxiety you used to feel when you thought you might have upset one of your friends doesn’t come on as strong this time. You don’t care if they decide to exclude you, not if they’re going to make fun of how you want to fuck.

All you care about is trying to find a way out of this funk, by any means necessary. You hang around one of the guy friends you blew, doing dumb shit that culminates in some light graffitiing. Not exactly your area of expertise, as it turns out.

You realize too late that you’re caught, your friend yelling to run away. In your defense, you’re a little high from a joint you shared earlier, so when the spray can you’re holding is knocked out of your hand, it plays in slow motion. It clatters across the ground in the alley you still occupy, and you turn around, fingers wrapping around your neck as you’re pulled to your feet.

Gator lifts you up, shoving you against the wall, knocking the wind out of you. You cough, hands going to his wrist. His gloved hand doesn’t budge when you try to scratch him off.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he hisses, his eyes alight with amusement.

You can’t breathe, feet kicking him, but he’s stock still as he stares back at you, then glances at your handiwork.

“What the fuck,” he adds, sounding a little amazed. “Since when are you doing this petty shit?”

You can’t reply of course, and he pays you no mind, letting you go. You tumble, your knees breaking your fall, as he moves closer to the wall to inspect it. On the ground, you cough and hold your throat, sure you’re going to puke, but you don’t. The world spins regardless, righting itself in time for you to see him stalking you again. You scamper backwards, and Gator stands over you, hands on hips.

“If I find you by yourself again, you’re dead.”

You wonder what he means, because he’s not threatening arrest this time. Your eyes slip down his front and you spy the outline of his erection. Your fear enticed him again. The thrill that runs through you is like no other, and your chest heaves some more, the air not quite filling you enough.

“Gator –”

He walks away, and in a way, you’re grateful because you don’t know what you would have said to him. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, your neck still aching.

-

You’re past caring. You can be friendless now, it’s not as if they were helping you to begin with. You go to school, you go home. You do nothing on weekends. You get isolated quickly, predictably. It would be sad if you were your younger self.

You walk alone everywhere when your house feels cramped. You don’t want your parents to worry, they’ve never been particularly invested in your social life to begin with. You slip out one afternoon and find yourself walking along the road Gator drove you down.

You think about him almost constantly, like a low hum in the background you can occasionally ignore, but it’s always there. The sun is starting to set later in the afternoon, the worst parts of winter are over. It’s not snowing anymore, but the air still is fresh, making your of your face tingle.

In your own world, it’s no wonder that a car pulls up by you. The road is otherwise empty, and you know who it is before you even look towards it.

Gator rolls down his window, calling out your name. You  glance his way, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter, your face burning.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” you call back, not stopping.

You’ve been waiting for him, for what feels like weeks. Maybe months? Years, if you’re truly honest? You didn’t know you needed him until now. This darkness.

“I told you you’d regret walking alone…”

You stop abruptly at that, glaring at him, and the car rolls to a stop. He gives a grin, takes a long drag of his vape. You say nothing.

“How come I heard you’re fuckin’ random guys for weed?”

“Why would you care?” you throw back. You cringe. “I mean, you’ve got no evidence-”

He smiles again. “I am the law, baby. But I mean if you’re doin’ shit like that, I might need to get checked.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, and turn your heel.

You hear him open his door but you walk on, not sure what you want. If he takes you to the station now, your reputation is hardly worth saving at this point. Must have been one of your so-called friends that started the rumor he heard. If he wants to blackmail you again, is there any point fighting him? You miss him, he fucked you up.

You can’t stop the anger that boils over, when he grabs your arm and jerks you back.

“I’m talkin’ to ya-”

He kisses you on the lips and you bite him on the lip, Gator pulling back with a yell, his fingers going to his lips. You freeze, terrified by your own stupid impulse.

“What the fuck? You fuckin’ bit me?!”

He grabs you by the neck and marches you back, shoving you against the hood of his car. His hips meet your ass and you can’t move, he’s way too heavy though you struggle against him. Whatever desire you have for him, when Gator is angry he is fucking terrifying. You have no idea what he’s capable of. He has a gun, for fuck’s sake, and you’re just some kid sister of his friend’s.

His hand is down the back of your pants and you shriek, his gloved fingers invading your cunt without preamble, the tears springing in your eyes. You grip him back, his low chuckle behind you.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. “You’re over-complicatin’ this…”

You close your eyes, trying to reel it in, the fear… the pleasure beginning to coil in your stomach. You hear the harsh squelches of your cunt being worked, you hear his belt unbuckling–

“Gator, please…”

You blubber, your legs shaking as he yanks your pants down, ridding you of his fingers, only to pin you back down against the cold metal beneath you. He keeps your arms pinned behind you, and you can’t see what he’s doing, you’re forced to listen, to wait.

Everything careens forward as you feel him take a swipe of your juices and move further up, up, up to between your cheeks. You start to sob louder.

“Shh. Shut up!”

“Gator, wait. Wait, please, wait – wait – don’t -!”

He rubs at your puckered hole, the sensation making you whimper and plead. You’re not ready, you’ve never done this before. Your bare ass exposed to him, you’re completely helpless, and you know that’s what gets him off.

“You’re worth freezin’ my balls off,” he whispers, and you know what’s happening next, but you can’t quite believe it.

Not until the first push of the tip of his cock against your asshole, and you tense, whimpering as you squirm beneath him.

“Just relax. Relax!”

You grit your teeth, tears streaming down your face as you feel him push past the first ring of muscle. The pain is like nothing else in your life, and you go still, succumbing to it. He groans, chuckles in awe.

“Holy shit. Holy shit…”

He fills you up, then starts to move back and forth, slow at first. You feel stretched beyond comprehension, like at some point you’ll break. Like he’ll literally tear you open. It burns, until it doesn’t, your body turning lax Gator fucks you hard, but slowly. With each knock of his body against yours, you hear the slap of your skin, your cheek rubbing the hood of his car.

His hand on your ass cheek slips under, and you yelp at the feeling of his hand covering your pussy, brushing the folds as he never stops.

“I gotta-”

He replaces his hand again, having tugged off his glove with his teeth, and he starts to chuckle again, low and a little breathless.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

You don’t bother arguing, because you know you are. There’s no turning back, from how your body just won’t cooperate for you when you need it most. You feel wound tight, Gator on your throbbing clit as his hips smack against your ass.

He unexpectedly tucks his fingers inside your cunt again, the sensation making you tense up again. You wail as he works you, he’s no longer pinning you against the car to stop you from escaping. He dedicates himself to pleasure, yours and his, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he reaches the deepest parts of you.

You feel the sudden urge to pee, panicking. If you struggle, but even with your arms free, you can’t shift his weight, your hands blindly trying to reach behind to shove him off.

You give an almighty shudder and come hard, losing your vision. Your orgasm is long and intense, and like nothing else you’ve managed before. It almost hurts from the intensity of it. You blink back the world as you recover, your empty cunt twitching as Gator wrings his hand.

“Made you squirt…”

He takes hold of your hips and bears down, speeding up his thrusts. He doesn’t stop, and it’s hurting more, with your thighs soaked, his cock working in and out of you without reprieve.

“Can’t get ya pregnant, this was the only way-”

He makes a choked sound and goes still, half falling on top of you, and you know he’s come inside you without checking. You feel him pull out and you wince, and then there’s a trickle down your crack.

He steps back and you take the opportunity to pull your pants up again, panting like he is, leaning on the hood of his car. You’re still in shock, not pulling away when he grabs your chin and kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth.

A beat later he changes his mind, taking hold of your front and pulls you towards the backseat. He opens it and puts you inside, goes to his door and slips back in.

He takes deep a lungful of air, sighing. You stare at your legs, your damp pants. Everything feels warm and sticky, and you’re sweating.

“You okay?” he asks, and you glance at him in the rearview mirror, perplexed.

“What?”

“You came, right?”

You look away. You know why he’s saying that. It’s to make it seem like he’s not guilty of anything. You swallow hard.

“I would’ve… done those things if you’d asked me to,” you say.

He frowns. “What are you talking about?”

You go quiet, and you see he’s driving you home. You can’t believe this happened in broad daylight, thinking that would make a difference at all. Apparently not to Gator.

“Hey, I’ve been followin’ you. It was bound to happen sooner or later to you, since you’re actin’ so dumb and reckless. It’s better it was me than some other guy you don’t know-”

“But I don’t know you,” you retort, your voice hoarse with tears. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. And stop cryin’. It’s a real turn-off.”

“You’re… fucking evil,” you whisper.

He looks at you, turning his head to glare at you through the partition this time.

“Hey, you got off.”

He turns back, and you travel in silence back to your house. There’s no car in the driveway, no-one is home yet. He doesn’t move to get out of the car, your eyes meeting in the mirror.

“You tell anyone, I’ll kill ya.”

You believe him, but you deflate with a kind of weariness instead of turning still with fear like he hoped.

“Yeah, I figured.”

He lets you out, and you walk to your front door without looking back. The kicker is that once he leaves, you take a long time to clean yourself up. You peel off your clothes, smell his come and yours all over you when you stand in the bathroom, the shower running already.

You savor each step of it, seeing pink water in the bottom of the shower. He hurt you, badly, and yet you feel that longing again.

He’s that high you need to chase.

if you're still here, thanks. 🖤 if you want more, hmu.

[random-introverted-blog]

Seed of Darkness [Dark Justiciar Shadowheart x F!Reader]

Exalted Nightsinger, blessed be the chosen womb

Intended Audience: Mature / EXPLICIT [I'm starting to realize how old I am when I talk to people born in the 2000's...]

The Bit: You are Dark Justiciar Shadowheart’s prisoner, kept in the Sharran dungeons where she has been training you, trying to make you yield and become hers completely. She has also been trying to get you pregnant without success. When she comes to visit you tonight, she might finally have something that will make it a reality...

Warnings/Advisories: SA, mind manipulation, mind breaking, emotional abuse, forced drug use, breeding (its called seed of darkness, come on...), impregnation, forced pregnancy, magical pregnancy, magic penis, possessive behavior, corruption, sex slavery (forced pregnacy, breeding kink should indicate that much but just in case...), dominant Shadowheart

Words, all the word (count): 3,171 baebeee

Co-written by my bestie, the bestest of besties @shadowfalllen - If you like this MAKE SURE YOU THANK HER. It's only because of her that it exists and is being posted. Again, it was written between us as a self indulgent fic lol.

Sharing some Dark Justiciar Shadowheart content in 3...2...1

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

The sound of the heavy door scraping the floor wakes you up from your daze. And the clanking of armor tingles your senses. "Wakey, wakey, my pretty, little slut..."

You jolt up as you hear her voice and back away from her as far as you can, looking around like a scared deer for a way out. There is no way out, you know it of course. You're in your familiar cell in the Sharran dungeon.

Shadowheart tsk's at you, wagging her finger. "Tut-tut, my sweet... You know better..." As she begins to unstrap her Dark Justiciar armor...

You look up at her as she's taking off her armor, knowing full well where this will lead, but you have no other option than to just cower in the far corner where the shadows of the room are even darker, trapped, waiting for her next move.

Shadowheart watches you a moment before nodding over to the direction of the bed. Raising an eyebrow expectantly. Tossing her armor on the ground when she gets the shoulders off, working on the chain mail beneath next.

"My good girl, are you going to behave for me...? You know how good I treat you when you behave... And the sooner you swell for me, the sooner I can lavish you with all the joys and affection you, and our little one, can fathom..." As she tosses the under layer of armor aside. Now working on unbuckling her belt. Her gaze fixed to yours, a few strands of black hair in her eyes.

You listen to her talk. She has been trying to get you pregnant for a while, using a spell on herself and taking you with her polymorphed cock, but she hasn't been successful. Something about the magic hasn't allowed it. That hasn't stopped her from trying though. Over and over again. Day in and day out, you have been filled with her seed, forced to carry it inside you, feel it drip down your inner thighs... a constant reminder who you belong to.

You know what it means to resist her, to disobey her, and afterwards, she will just take you anyway. So you force yourself to move and slowly walk from the corner towards the bed and climb on it. You're now sitting on it with your back against the wall. The familiar pit of dread settles in the bottom of your stomach but turns into heat as you see she has already almost completely undressed.

Shadowheart smiles, but it's unsettling. Unnerving. She's slowly stepping toward you as she drops the belt to the floor. Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small vial of purple fluid.

"This, love... will ensure that your body accepts my seed. This will promise you freedom from this room... and admittance into my bedchamber. Where I can keep a close eye on the two of you..." She purrs, now crawling onto the bed. She pulls the stopper on the vial, and slowly hands it to you.

Her smile sends shivers of fear down your spine as she crawls closer to you. You take a look at the vial she's handing to you and then take a look back into her eyes. What you see in them makes you tremble in fear. The fear mixes with arousal as it usually does for you. She has that effect on you. You know there probably is no way out of this, one way or the other she is going to force you to carry her child. You take the vial into your shaking hand.

She watches your every move. A frigid, stern stare in her eyes, devoid of any playfulness or smiles like before. Her hand slowly touches yours at your wrist. Firmly, albeit with a gentleness, pushing the vial closer to your lips.

You're so scared that you take the vial to your lips and almost drink it, but you stop at the last minute. Images of yourself, heavy with her child, flashes into your mind and you panic. That can't happen. She already has you imprisoned. What hope will you have left if she actually makes you carry her child as well?

You contemplate throwing the vial to the far wall, thinking what the consequences of such action would be. But you're clearly taking too much time for the Dark Justiciar's liking, the grip on your hand tightens and her other hand takes hold of your hair and bends your head back, earning a gasp from you at the sudden tug.

"If you think this is something you can decide for yourself, think again." Shadowheart says, her tone of voice stern, leaving no room for negotiation as she forces the liquid down your throat. Your only choice is to swallow it all or choke on it, so you swallow it like the good girl she has been training you to be.

"That's more like it..." Her voice is low, eager, as she watches the vial emptying into your stomach.

You're not allowed to wear any clothes in the dungeon, so her hand is free to roam over your breast, pinching your nipple before it travels down between your legs. Her fingers slide between your folds, gathering any moisture, the evidence of your body's betrayal, before she rubs roughly your clit, the sudden harsh stimulation making you whimper.

"Are you going to behave now, my slut?" Shadowheart asks, holding your gaze, still bending your head back a bit, fingers entwined in your hair.

Something in you bends and breaks under her searing, intense gaze. "I will." You say submissively, embarrassed by how weak your voice sounds.

Shadowheart smiles and eases up her grip on your hair, the touch of her fingers gentler between your legs before she pulls her hand away entirely.

The smile turns into a grin and she strokes your head a moment. She purrs praises under her breath to you "good choice" and "my pretty little slut..." before reaching into her pocket again and pulling out another vial.

She pulls this one open with her teeth. Then locks her eyes with yours as she spits the stopper aside and slowly tips the contents into her mouth. Once she's finished, she takes yours and tosses both over her shoulder, indifferent to the sound of them shattering on the floor. "Just to be sure, love..." she murmurs, unfastening her trousers and tugging them off, a well-practiced motion you've seen more times than you'd like to admit.

The urge to move away from her is strong, but you force yourself to stay still, not daring to antagonize her further. You sit still against the wall, frozen in place again, looking at her now naked form and the hard-on between her legs, ready for you. No matter how many times this has happened, you still haven't got used to it. Your quickened heartbeat pounds in your ears, it's almost overwhelming.

She shushes you as she pulls your body down to lie flat on the bed, making you gasp, and slots between your legs. "This is it, you know... you'll take this, enjoy this, like a good girl does. Because that's what you are, aren't you? My good girl..." Shadowheart murmurs, cradling your cheek in her palm. The look in her piercing green eyes threatens to consume you.

When she calls you her good girl, it makes you twitch involuntarily, making you curse the parts of your body that are always so eager to yield to her touch. A flush settles on your cheeks. "I'm your good girl," you murmur softly, unable to stop yourself. Her gaze makes your willpower falter even more.

"That's right and I'm going to love your body like you're my precious, obedient lover... I wonder... when I fill you... plant my seed deep inside you..." Saying this, she spreads your legs wide apart, your knees bent. Guiding herself to line up with your dripping slit. "Will you feel it tonight? When our little flower sprouts inside you...?" Then slowly, almost too slow she feeds the tip of her throbbing cock into you.

Your mind goes back to the promise she might take you out of this cold, damp, bleak dungeon and into her bedchamber. Anything had to be better than this place, right? But you know what the prize for that is and images of yourself pregnant with her child flashes in your mind and you feel panic for a moment.

What does it all matter though? You already drank the vial, she's already pushing into you, it's already too late, anyway. You know how hung she is, so you try to concentrate on remaining calm and prepare yourself instead.

She sighs softly once she's halfway inside you. You bite your lips as she fills you up, it's so overwhelming this time. The prospect of successfully getting you pregnant has heightened her intensity even more than before. Her gaze fixated on yours, savoring this moment with you. Her gaze makes you shiver. It's evident that she's savoring every moment, trying to etch it into her memory. You're sure won't forget this either.

Once she bottoms out, her eyes flutter closed, and she holds herself there. Fully sheathed inside you. Intertwined with you. You're so full of her and just like every time, it's starting to be hard to think about anything else than her and her being inside you. So deep in your core.

She runs her fingertips along your hips; the touch leaving a lingering warmth. You can almost see her fantasies playing in her eyes when they open and drift to your hips. That soon they will bear the weight of carrying her child. Then her hands smooth over your stomach... and then she begins to move. Slow at first. Gentle. You can't recall her ever being this gentle with you. There's this odd tenderness in her you haven't seen before.

"You will look... so pretty for me... for us both..." you can hear it in her words, the 'us' she's referring to isn't just you and her. Her words make you blush again. You remain completely still, your vulnerable core laid bare for her gentle exploration as you let her indulge in her desires.

Shadowheart continues this tender, sweet rhythm with you. Shushing and cooing you softly as she rocks her hips back and forth. She sighs softly as her pace increases somewhat, providing more friction to your tight channel. With the same care and gentleness as a lover.

It's as if she's caressing your senses, making love to you. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire that burns deep within. This euphoria slowly spreads, like warm honey seeping through your veins, leaving you in a state of blissful surrender.

Submitting to her is always easier. The soft glow of her smile beckons you as she gently strokes your hair. She can be very nice when you are obedient, her voice like a soothing melody that lulls you into a sense of comfort. You can't help but imagine the way she would care for you if you remain obedient and carry her baby. Would it be so bad? The way she caresses your stomach, her touch as gentle as a feather grazing your skin, evokes a strange warmth within you. It's a tenderness you haven't witnessed before, leaving you longing for the security and affection she offers.

She gazes deeply into your eyes, searching for any trace of doubt, delving into your innermost thoughts. A smile of pure satisfaction slowly curls her lips, radiating a sense of pride. It's as if she always knew you would eventually embrace the idea of being completely hers. The weight of surrendering your entire being to her possession hangs in the atmosphere, a palpable energy that envelops you, making your heart race and your skin tingle with anticipation.

It's impossible to escape her gaze and the smile she gives you. You see the need in her to own all of you and you are so close to just yielding to it. Into yielding to her completely. You don't know if it is a conscious or unconscious decision, but you lift your legs up and wrap them around her waist and keep them there.

She moans deeply as you do, eyes fluttering a moment at how wonderful it feels for you to give in to her. "What do you need, my good girl?" She manages between breaths, arousal thick in her voice, pumping herself inside you more purposefully. Not quite hard. But not as feathery and delicate as she was before.

"I... harder... please.." You say breathless, surprised by your own words.

Shadowheart chuckles slightly and breathlessly but obliges as she grips your hips and fucks herself into you. Not too hard, though, to your surprise. She watches you, assessing if she's hurting you. She wants you both to enjoy this, to look back on this lovemaking fondly, the one that will bless you with her child.

You moan as she settles into the slightly harder rhythm, it's just the right amount and it feels good to be so full of her, how her shaft drags through your channel, how your walls cling to it.... to be filled by her again and again by her.

You keep the eye contact steady and put your hands behind her neck, lightly, carefully pulling her closer. You can feel her grip on your hips tightening as her thrusts become less controlled and composed. The moment is drawing near, and she clearly has no serious intent of drawing it out.

Excitement twinkles in her eyes as the implication almost tangibly races in her mind. "So close, love... Oh so close, and you will be mine... body and soul... all mine..." she grunts, her nails digging into your skin.

The haze of the lovemaking, how she fills your every sense, makes you oblivious to the darker implication behind her words, to her intent on making you carry her spawn. It's almost like the Dark Justiciar isn't the only one excited by the prospect, the dark corners of the room seem to be as well as shadowy tendrils seem to reach for you, seeking to engulf you in their embrace as it gradually gets darker. You're oblivious to this as well, having given into her.

Shadowheart's thrusts slow down but maintain their force and depth. "You're going to... be so... beautiful." She manages between groans as she fucks herself rough and deep into you. "Swollen..." she says and with one hard thrust she buries herself to the hilt inside you, stretching you to the limit around her cock.

Then you feel her. A wave of her warmth floods deep inside you, more than it ever has. Perhaps you're imagining it but you can almost feel the difference this time. Sense its intent to nestle deep inside your fertile womb. "And mine..." Shadowheart hisses through her teeth as she bucks her hips slowly, intent to secure every drop of her seed deep within you.

Every word leaving her lips, every thrust of her hips, is bringing your orgasm closer. You come helplessly after she hisses "Mine" and spears you to the hilt, your channel clenching around her cock and milking every drop into your depths, into your womb.

And as she holds her eyes on you, you have no doubt that this time she's succeeded...

Your body will bear her child...

Your womb and her seed will be growing an army of devoted servants of darkness in the name of Shar. 

Daughters of darkness. 

Sired by Shar's chosen. Born in the darkness of Shar’s holy place. The gathering shadows slither around the darkened room, sharing her excitement.

As the haze of pleasure fades and your mind is clearer again, you look at her with your eyes wide open, the reality of what just happened and what will happen to you hitting you hard.

Shadowheart leans down and presses a sweet, loving kiss to your lips. Moaning into your mouth as her tongue slides in. Only pulling away from the kiss to adjust your hips together, lifting your legs and holding herself inside you. Ensuring her seed not only stays inside you longer, but seeps deeper inside you. "That's it, my breedable little slut... let it settle inside you awhile."

When you slowly come to your senses, you realize what she's doing: making sure her seed is taking root inside you. The reality of the situation makes you panic again and you start to instinctively struggle, trying to get your legs free and dislodge her from inside of you, but it's all in vain.

Shadowheart tsk's and shakes her head. Your struggling barely seems to faze her. Holding you still effortlessly with her muscular arms. "My love, now's not the time to be silly. We can both feel your womb eagerly seeking my seed. Your body is obediently preparing itself for my child..." She moves a hand to stroke your cheek.

"So no more games, love... If you like, you can play hard to get with me after our... daughter is born. Yes. A girl. We'll have a little girl..."she murmurs softly, smiling warmly at the thought. Whether intentional or not, she lifts your hips even higher after it crosses her mind. You think you can feel her come pooling inside you.

Her strength and words make you give in again and you lay exhausted and compliant under her. You're trying to even your breathing and calm down, knowing that annoying her isn't wise, especially after you had just gotten to her good side.

The shadows dance in eerie harmony, their inky tendrils reaching out to embrace your vulnerable presence. You remain unaware of their insidious infiltration, as they slither through every crevice of your being. Their whispers echo in your mind, amplifying the twisted notions that sway your thoughts, pushing you to the brink of surrender.

A darkness settles behind your eyes, dimming your inner light.

You put your hand carefully on hers as she strokes your cheek. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," you say submissively, looking into her eyes, offering her apologetic smile, "I am yours, now and always. It will be an honor to carry your child. Our daughter." You say, lying there with her seed deep inside you, thoughts of escape leaving your mind.

You belong to her wholly.

The shadows reward you with pleasurable shivers across your skin at the thought, caressing you all over.

Shadowheart smiles and shushes you, thumbing your cheek. "Hush, my darling. Rest now. You and our little lady will need all the rest you can get..." she purrs softly as she gently sets your legs down and very slowly draws her hips back and her softened cock out of you.

Rather than lay down beside you, she finds her trousers and slides them on before wrapping you in a blanket and lifting you into her arms. Carrying you to the door and into your new life...

[veronika-tserber]

Natal SUN/PLUTO Aspects The Quest for Authenticity🕯️

Let me set the vibe, first.

It's a brand-new playlist, and I do accept recommendations!

The Sun in astrology is the archetypal King figure. It represents our consciousness, the pure awareness that I AM. Every planet has its own WILL, and the Sun’s will is to BE — to shine and express itself into the world. This is our personality and ego, but also our Life Force, a.k.a Spirit. When we look at the Sun and its aspects/house placement, we see what gives us a sense of fulfillment and purpose in life.

On the other hand, Pluto is the Lord of the Underworld, the Sorcerer hidden away from the light. It’s a generational planet that helps us heal and evolve spiritually by putting us in critical situations. Similarly to Uranus and Neptune, Pluto is an Outcast , a Divergent— the opposite of the widely accepted and adored King. I personally imagine him as a Quasimodo-looking character, but make no mistake. Pluto is immensely powerful.

When these two unite, it’s uncomfortable for both. Pluto feels exposed, and it desperately wants to hide away from the light, whereas the Sun feels like it’s been covered with a thick cloak of darkness. 

The Aspect is Most Potent if:

it’s within 5 degrees (those are the orbs that I’m using)

it’s APPLYING instead of SEPARATING 

it's a conjunction, square, opposition, quincunx, or quintile (harmonious aspects are usually less intense, especially the Trine)

SUN/PLUTO NOTES

📌 This is a highly karmic aspect - especially karma from their father or paternal side of the family. They are essentially breaking the taboos and secrets their ancestors couldn't didn't dare to speak about and confront. These people are the ILLUMINATORS who shift their family's paradigm around heavier, darker topics. They don't have to dig for any familial secrets, though. If they do their personal shadow work, they will break the chains of karma for all past and future generations.

📌They might become socially powerful and be known for their power/sexuality/mystery/criminal activity or occult/healing abilities. They could also become self-obsessed, or obsessed with their goals and desire to be known.

📌The Sun represents a woman's ideal husband, which is why in a woman's chart, this aspect can be really dangerous. She might be unconsciously attracted to (and even marry) abusive, controlling, really DARK individuals. They will mirror, and take to an extreme, her own unintegrated Shadow and/or unresolved daddy issues.

📌You might know these people for a long time, and not actually know them. Some of them have IMPENETRABLE defenses. When they do let someone in, they are terrified of being truly seen - with their good, bad, and ugly sides. This vulnerability is the cave they fear to enter, but it holds the treasure they seek. Deep down, they DO want to be seen and accepted as they are. But they most likely won't get that love from another person until they learn to love themselves unconditionally, first. They have to stop trying to run away and hide from themselves (or their father).

📌 Their father, and specifically his relationship to his Shadow, and the darker aspects of life, played a big role in the formation of their personality, and how they view themselves.

There are three scenarios here - 1) he was either a PUNISHER of the shadows (could've literally worked as a policeman, for example); he was an EXPLORER (psychologist, investigator) or he was a HEALER - occultist, energy worker, etc.

These are three levels of consciousness. If he punished the shadows - his and the world's - the more shame and guilt he could've projected onto his child(ren). These people might feel as if he's always monitoring their steps, and they can't hide anything from him - especially their mistakes or anything "taboo". If they were heavily judged or punished, they will grow up feeling guilty and ashamed of a very big part of what makes them human.

This affects how they view themselves - they can either see themselves as a Divine Child, with both the Yin and Yang, light and dark within or as a Beast, some sort of a Devil responsible for all the evil in the world.

They should know that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with them and EVERYTHING to do with their father's own degree of self-acceptance and wholeness.

Nonetheless, their relationship with him is/was intense, and there might've been a lot of power struggles involved.

📌These people are MAGNETIC in a way people can't explain. Even if they aren't traditionally "beautiful" or "attractive", they just draw others in. Powerful presence and aura.  

📌 It might take them some time to realize the power hidden in their shadows. They are destined to become Alchemists, but how easily or quickly this will happen depends on their free will and desire to separate themselves from their father's projections/expectations.

The task here is to become SELF-AWARE. They can use a myriad of tools - therapy, meditation, yoga, energy healing, somatic work, OR ART to channel their Shadow and integrate it into their consciousness.

📌 During their lives, they are often called to the gates of the Underworld. They learn how to enter it fearlessly, and how to listen to the voice within. This process of illumination (Sun) will help them transform their subconscious mind (Pluto), and when they emerge from this metaphorical Underworld, their work and expression in the world will have a different quality, richness, and potency to it. This is how they step into their power and leadership - by making peace with the demons of the past.

📌 Introverted or extroverted? Both. It mostly depends on the specific aspect, but also on other placements. We know that Mars is Pluto's lower octave. So, in their early life, some of them might be quite extroverted, focused on worldly ambitions, and even be less selective about the people they let in their close circle. As they age though, their focus turns inwards. They can progressively become more introverted, self-reflective, and their goals/values can dramatically shift. As their vibration goes up, they go from being the Warrior to being The Wizard. 

📌 If they don’t work to reclaim their power and express themselves truthfully and unapologetically in the world, they can become jealous and bitter. They can lurk behind the scenes of life, and try to sabotage those who do what they want to do, or they might try to destroy themselves. Depression is possible, as well as suicide attempts and risky behavior.

Pluto wants them to kill something about themselves, which is most likely their cowardice/pride/vanity/past conditioning. But not their physical selves. It's never about the physical, although it can feel this way. These people will either feed the Collective Shadow or help heal it. When they do the latter, they become potent forces of transformation for other people, as well.

📌 Life wants them to be humbler. They can carry a lot of pride and might try to appear as perfect and "spotless" as possible. They might be afraid of their reputation being destroyed or bruised in some way.

📌They are on a Quest for Love. When they learn how to forgive themselves and others, their HEARTS will open, and the light of the Sun will shine through. They can become truly unconditionally loving, and they have to start with themselves, first.

📌 Pluto is connected to our Divine Feminine energy (although it's not a feminine planet) a.k.a Kundalini. So, these people need to learn how to SURRENDER to the Divine. This is a major lesson, so for a good portion of their life, they might feel tempted to gain power through CONTROL and domination, but this will only worsen their karma.

As they will understand, the only real power is the power of Truth and Unconditional Love.

- Foxbörn

The Ask Box is open for specific questions, folks! 😊

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ 1

ᴄʜᴀʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ

ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʏ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ?

[animeyanderelover]

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, overprotective behavior, stalking, manipulation, abduction, threats

Tags: @kanaosprotector @leveyani

S/o can look into the future

Kamado Nezuko

💕Nezuko honestly doesn't care much about your ability as long as you don't abuse it for evil purposes. Considering that her personality has been underdeveloped as a demon in favor of building a resistance against the sun, chances are also that she might not even grasp the full concept of what your skills are anyways. She does sense however that there seems to be something different about you, whether she concludes that due to observing you or taking notice of the way people around you treat you. Most of the time Nezuko is quite harmless though as she mainly just follows you around wherever you go. She is incredibly protective as soon as she senses that you are distressed or scared though which means she will keep you safe from people who try to force you into telling them their future. Obviously she has resorted to not killing humans so in most cases she helps you to escape. It is far more likely that it is her brother who is asking you for your help due to your ability to see the future for Nezuko's sake.

Kocho Shinobu

🦋​Shinobu is quite talented to hide her true feelings behind her sweet appearance which can be deceiving. Obviously she has a certain interest in your abilities when she finds them out since she is still a Hashira after all but she also recognises what this implies if you were to use your vision daily. Her cover would be blown sooner or later as you may see scenarios of the future where she reveals the darker side of her personality to you which she has been hiding so far. There is a lot to consider but she doesn't show it when she is around you as she attempts to question you about your abilities and how exactly they work without appearing suspicious. Is there a limit to how far you can see and does the future change depending on the decisions individuals make or is it all already decided? All of those information would help her crafting a plan the moment you would figure her out. She doubts that even your vision would do much if she would manage to poison and weaken you though.

Rengoku Kyojuro

🔥​Whilst he isn't too insistent about using your gift to find out how his own future with you might look as his delusional streak gives him an unbeatable confidence that you'll be in it, Kyojuro is very dedicated to his tasks as a Hashira. With your foresight he and other Hashira may be able to prevent demon attacks before they even happen and even detecting Muzan might be easier. Since this duty wouldn't require you to fight against demons yourself nor would it put you into any danger as long as no demon finds out about you, Kyojuro is willing to let you do this. He never really considers that you may use your abilities to escape him if you would see something in the future that would paint him in a bad light yet it is still quite a bit of trouble to get away from him. There is his younger brother, other villagers who adore him and then Kyojuro himself who would never stop searching for you. Surely there has to be a misunderstanding. Why don't you just talk to him, darling?

Kanroji Mitsuri

💓​You can definitely expect her to be curious about your gift as she wonders how the future will look like and you only give her more reason to gush over you because of it. She is prone to fantasising about a happy future where the two of you live together as a happy and married couple but she is at least lucid enough to recognise that this isn't the reality she is living in currently. She is still very hopeful about her dreams and that they will come true in the future so you would break her heart if you were to tell her that you don't see this in your future yet it would also only serve to make her more determined to work harder to win your affections. Obviously she isn't pressuring you into telling her anything nor will she allow anyone else to pressure you into becoming the next oracle. Mitsuri would, however, support your decision if you were to decide to use your foresight for the greater good by working for the Demon Corps and predicting future attacks and appearances of demons which would aid greatly in serving lives.

Kibutsuji Muzan

🩸​Your gift in a scenario where Muzan is the one obsessing over you is absolutely terrifying because he would abuse this to its full extent. Of course there is still an affection and attachment that the demon king holds for you somewhere in his many hearts but it is undeniable that by figuring out your abilities, he gets a lot more obsessive and possessive over you. Implications are that you will know about him and try to flee beforehand which he wants to prevent under all means necessary. He will either act quickly by abducting you himself or he will order all of his underlings to hunt you down and bring you to him alive if you should manage to escape in time and piss him off greatly as a result. You will be forced to tell him everything you can see as well as your gift might just be what he needs to find the Blue Spider Lily and he is not going to be patient about it if you would deny him your help. What are you trying to accomplish by denying him? Even your foresight will not be enough to get away from him.

[atriza]

Unraveling Threads pt. 3

Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Part one Part two

Summary: Y/N, trapped in a windowless room by Five Hargreeves, decides she must escape his obsessive grip. After convincing Five to take her for a walk outside, she spots an opportunity and makes a desperate run for freedom through a forest. Despite her efforts, Five catches up to her after a painful fall down an embankment. His anger and betrayal are clear, and he reasserts his control over Y/N, telling her she can never leave. As she is led back into captivity, Y/N realizes there may be no escape from his obsession.

Word count: 995

**Content Warning:**

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

Days blended into an agonizing blur for Y/N. Time felt meaningless in the small, windowless room where she was held. The only break in the monotony was Five’s visits—always calm, always collected, always terrifyingly gentle. He would bring her meals, talk to her in a low, soothing voice, and watch her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. The more time passed, the clearer it became that Five’s obsession had spiraled into something far darker than she had imagined.

Y/N knew she had to act. Waiting for Five to come to his senses wasn’t an option anymore. Every time he looked at her, she could feel the walls of her prison closing in, tightening with each passing second. The only way out was to escape—and she had to do it soon.

One evening, when Five entered the room with her dinner, Y/N forced a smile, masking the fear gnawing at her insides. "Five," she began, her voice steady despite the storm raging in her mind, "I’ve been thinking… You’re right. About everything."

Five paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He set the tray down and turned to face her fully, his expression softening. "You’ve come to understand," he said quietly, a hint of relief in his voice.

"I have," Y/N lied, her heart pounding in her chest. She had practiced these words over and over in her mind, knowing this was her one chance. "I know you’re doing this to protect me. And I’m grateful, really. But I can’t stay in this room forever. Maybe…maybe we could go outside? Just for a little while. You’ll be with me the whole time, and I promise I won’t run."

Five studied her closely, his gaze piercing, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. For a moment, Y/N thought she had failed—that he would see through her ruse. But then he nodded, though his eyes remained wary. "We can go for a walk," he agreed, "but you have to understand—if you try to run, I’ll have no choice but to bring you back here. I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N. I can’t."

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "I won’t run. I just want to be with you."

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was the only way to get out. As Five led her down a narrow hallway and up a flight of stairs, Y/N’s mind raced, desperately trying to formulate a plan. She had no idea where they were or how far away help might be, but it didn’t matter. She had to take the risk.

When they emerged into the cool evening air, Y/N inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of freedom, however brief it might be. They were in the middle of a dense forest, the trees towering above them, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The sky was a deepening shade of twilight, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground.

"This way," Five said, gesturing toward a narrow path that wound through the trees. "It’s quiet here. Safe."

Y/N nodded, her pulse quickening as she followed him down the trail. The further they walked, the more she scanned the area for any sign of escape—a break in the trees, a path leading in another direction, anything that could offer her a chance.

Then, she saw it—a faint, barely visible trail leading off into the woods, partially hidden by thick underbrush. Her heart leapt into her throat. This was her chance. She had to act now, before it was too late.

"Thank you for bringing me out here, Five," she said, forcing her voice to remain calm and steady. "It’s nice to feel the fresh air again."

Five glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "I’m glad you’re starting to feel better," he replied, though his tone was still cautious. "We can do this more often, if it helps."

Y/N nodded, her mind racing. She knew she had to time this perfectly. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his hand gently—a small, calculated move to lower his guard. Then, without warning, she yanked her hand free and bolted down the hidden trail, her feet pounding against the earth as she ran.

"Y/N!" Five’s voice rang out behind her, sharp with alarm. She didn’t look back, didn’t dare slow down. The underbrush scratched at her legs, branches whipped at her face, but she pushed through the pain, driven by pure adrenaline and the desperate need to escape.

But she could hear him behind her, his footsteps growing closer, faster. Five was relentless, and Y/N knew he wouldn’t stop until he had her back under his control. She could barely breathe, her chest burning with each gasping breath, but she couldn’t stop—she had to keep going, had to get away.

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her, and Y/N let out a cry as she tumbled down a steep embankment. Her body crashed through the undergrowth, pain shooting through her limbs as she hit the ground hard. Dazed and disoriented, she lay there for a moment, the world spinning around her.

She barely had time to catch her breath before Five was there, standing at the top of the embankment, his expression a mix of anger and something that looked like betrayal. He slowly descended toward her, each step deliberate, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check.

"I told you not to run," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. "Why didn’t you listen, Y/N?"

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Five…please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was scared. I—I didn’t mean to—"

Five cut her off with a sharp gesture, his eyes narrowing. "You promised me," he said, his voice cold. "You said you wouldn’t run. I trusted you, Y/N."

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked up at him. "I’m sorry," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just let me go…"

For a moment, Five’s expression softened, and Y/N thought she saw a flicker of the man she once knew—the man who had saved her, who had made her feel safe. But then, just as quickly, the cold, calculating mask slipped back into place.

"I can’t let you go," he said, his voice resolute. "Not now. Not ever. You’re mine, Y/N. You’re my fixed point."

With those words, any hope of reasoning with him vanished. Five reached down and grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not cruel, and pulled her to her feet. Y/N winced as pain shot through her ankle, but she knew there was no point in resisting. She was too exhausted, too injured, and Five was far too strong.

As he led her back through the woods, Y/N’s mind raced, searching for any possible way out of this nightmare. But deep down, she knew the truth. There was no escape. Not from Five. Not from the man who had made her his entire world.

And as they disappeared into the shadows of the forest, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that her fate was sealed—that no matter what she did, she would never truly be free.

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

I hope you like it 🫶🏻

[rachelsfav-queer]

Enid and Wends twin kids as toddlers, the first time they see momma Enid (Wends is Mother) and they’re terrified, Wends is able to calm them down a little, but it’s only when Enid gets close and the kids can tell from the scent that’s its their momma and they waddle over and bury themselves in her fur

Alright, gonna do my best to answer as many asks that are already in my inbox as I can. Hopefully this goes well lmaoooo. I might only answer one or two though so don’t hate me, hate my adhd. I already do

ANYWAY!!!

This is so damn cute, I love it so much!!! I love Wenclair’s children having werewolf characteristics, like heightened senses like smell, hearing, sight, etc. and even acting like puppies when they’re younger lol. And them being twins is just- ughhh it’s giving me so many ideas lmaoooo.

Like each twin sharing more personality with one of their moms, while obviously still being a mix of both their personalities. So like one has more in common with Wednesday, sharing her darker interests and all, while the other is more like Enid, and sharing her interests instead. But then they actually like spending more time with their opposite in their moms (not like favorites or anything, idk how to explain it damn it).

Okay okay okay!!! WE NEED NAMES!!!! So Wednesday and Enid both work together to name their children, but they do get to name each of them individually. (Again, idk how to explain this) But Wednesday names one of them Augustus, after the Roman emperor, but as they get older, they choose to go by Auggie instead and they actually identify as agender! Their other child, Enid names her Gwen!

Auggie has more of Wednesday’s personality and interests, but usually likes to spend time with Enid and although their exterior would let others believe that they’re more like their mother, Auggie has a deeply optimistic view on the world and genuinely cares about others once they’re close. They’re also much better at making friends, like their momma!

Gwen is more like her momma, sharing more of her interests and personality with Enid, but is more often attached to her mother’s hip than even Enid is to Wednesday. But Gwen definitely has a sadistic side, she loves to fuck around with others and in a general sense doesn’t much care for what random strangers, teachers, and classmates think about her and is usually alone or is sitting by her sibling, Auggie. And of course, Gwen has some of that signature Addams protectiveness over her family. She will, and has before, ruin someone’s life if they try to mess with those that she loves.

And final note, cause this is getting a bit long, Gwen and Auggie are all but inseparable. Literally in their first few years in school, it took a whole squad of teachers and school staff to separate them for even a few minutes. And a few minutes is literal btw, as it wasn’t very long before they had each found their way back to the other, one very nearly literally tearing through all the teachers and the other sneaking away while the teachers weren’t looking. And although they eventually grew more comfortable with being separate for some time as they got older, they still always end up right back at each other’s side eventually. So yeah, inseparable lol.

Umm yeah, I got a little bit too into this, huh? Anyway, I hope y’all have enjoyed my endless rambling lol

[starfall-dream]

Okok hi, I had more thoughts regarding this AU and a little headcanon I had about our poor little friend Withers... and also the Gods in this au- but mostly Withers. (Since I've been playing around with him for my own yan BG3 isekai thing)

I feel like this might be very different from what you have in mind for the worldbuilding (as I remember you mentioning how this isn't the game at some point but I might be thinking wrong), but I thought this was on my mind, and just in case this might inspire something, I thought about saying it. So don't feel pressured to reply to this. It's just me getting my thoughts out there because why not and I wanna hear your thoughts too!

With Withers I've been playing around with the idea that, since in BG3 he is the one who let's us play around with classes, stats, reviving long lost party members, stuff like that I thought it would be pretty neat if he actually knew of other timelines or had some sort of magic that had some sort of ability tied to it for Withers to know/look into the knowledge of things like stats, classes, and possibly the fact that reader is from a whole other realm/world. Possibly even knowing the meanings for when they talk strange. He definitely lets on for more than he shows in the early game at least.

So in my AU I sorta lean into that and have Withers and the reader character get really close as friends because, "at least someone has a sense of what is going on and can explain in a way that I can understand". Probably has to explain that they're a human fighter or a ranger (especially later on when characters like Wyll get way more protective, he might start trying to move them away from the front lines at some point. Even if he taught us swordfighting it's still 'too dangerous' for his darling out there so they gotta pick up being a ranger to even think about contributing to the combat)

That actually leads me to my second batch of thoughts! Reader's class. I know you said they were leaning towards a fighter class but as I said before I feel like soon enough archery or being a ranger might be more viable, or if they get the attention of a god they might just get cleric (not as plausible as ranger but one can assume). The thought of them playfully or jokingly making an oath and becoming a Paladin is also funny but just as impossible. Still, always fun to play around with, especially since clerics in general sometimes don't even get a say in becoming a cleric, poor reader might just suddenly become the cleric to someone like Sune who even covers more darker aspects of romance (as a god of romance)... at least from what I've read off her Forgotten Realms wiki page. For all we know, someone might just "you're my cleric now, we're getting soft tacos later" the poor reader and they'd have no say in it.

The possibilities could be endless!

Honestly I love withers, he's great.

In my head, reader technically doesn't have a class, they just fall into fighter since it would make the most sense in my head. I didn't even think about ranger though, even though that was the first class I played as. I feel like they would be a mixture of any class that doesn't use magic, since they really can't.

I think since withers has more of an understanding of things, reader and him and a nice relationship. I think reader just confides in him about a lot of things and he offers very wordy and lengthy advice. It's like a grandpa and grandchild relationship.

[suuuupernovaaa]

kelku

kelku [ˈkɛl.ku] n. home, house

Anonymous Request: A female na’vi that is a half-caste of Omaticaya and Metkayina, who lives in the reefs and is assigned to teach the Sully kids. She acts tough but she's soft. Lo'ak is annoyed by her. They get into an argument and he tells her she has no idea what it's like to be an outcast, so she tells him about her past and how she was disowned.

Lo'ak is aged up to 20 or so.

Lo'ak charges away, his head held high but his spirits low, fuming at the conversation he just had with his father. He doesn't know whether he wants to scream or cry, and he can't figure out why his father has never taken the time to really listen to him.

Payakan isn't a danger to him, or to anyone else, but once again, Lo'ak's direct experience is dismissed. They'd rather listen to rumors.

"Lo'ak!"

He hears her voice, and his eyes roll back into his head as he turns to see her jogging up to him.

It's hard to say why Y/N bothers him, but she has since the very beginning. Something about her just digs under his skin. She has this air about her, as if she is looking down on everyone around her, and every word out of her mouth is so important that you must be quiet and listen when she speaks.

He can't stand her.

"What, Y/N?" he asks, more harshly than he meant to. Anyone else would flinch, but she doesn't, standing tall and proud, and he hates her all the more.

"I wanted to say, I believe you. I'm sorry no one else does. Payakan... I have always wondered, about him. I feel, it feels like he and I, we might, understand each other."

He narrows his eyes. She reaches out for his hand, and he yanks it away in disgust.

"What would you and Payakan have in common? Why the hell would you think that? He's an outcast, lonely, humble. You wouldn't know a thing about that!" He's practically yelling by the end of his speech, fuming at her presumption.

"You really don't know, do you?" she says, slowly and quietly, as she says everything.

"Know what?"

She gestures to her arms and says, "Do you not wonder why my arms are thinner than everyone else's, why my tail isn't as wide?" She grabs her tail, lifting it up. "Why my skin color is a little darker?"

Lo'ak shrugs. "No, why would I? I never noticed."

She scoffs. "Bah, of course. Lo'ak, my mother was Omatikayan and my father Metkayina. Once I was born, my mother decided she'd had enough of the ocean, and went back to her forest people. My father was struck with grief and the weight of raising a child without her mother, and disappeared. I have never understood why you don't like me, but it's not foreign to me either. I was raised by the clan, but they made it known that I was other, and some blamed me for my father's disappearance. I am as outcast as you, or Payakan, though I am not so much an ass as you are."

With that, she turns on her heel, leaving Lo'ak with a slack jaw and a heavy heart.

--

It's a few days before Lo'ak tells anyone about his conversation with Y/N, and he chooses Neteyam to talk to.

"That makes sense," Neteyam says. "She always seems so sad, kind of reserved."

Lo'ak is surprised by Neteyam's impression of the woman. He'd assumed she was haughty, maybe spoiled, and thought highly of herself - it seems now that he mistook her quiet demeanor as a slight against him, when it was truly just shyness.

He thinks of all the times he rolled his eyes at her, glared at her, and dismissed her, and how she continued to show up and teach him anyway.

He has been horribly wrong about her, and he isn't sure how to fix it.

--

Diving sideways off the ilu, I glide through the water, propelling myself forward with my tail. Though it is a little bit smaller, it still gets the job done; I have never struggled keeping up here on the reef.

When I emerge from the water, pushing my hair out of my face and blinking the water from my eyes, Lo'ak stands on the beach, just a few feet away, staring at me.

I am still angry, but I'm trying to let it go. I don't expect an apology from him anytime soon, but I was hoping we could have avoided each other.

Talking about my past isn't something that I particularly enjoy, especially when I feel backed into a corner and forced to talk about it.

"Y/N," Lo'ak says, approaching, and I sigh. "I need to talk to you - to apologize."

He spreads his hands out, palms up, as if a gesture of good will or maybe defeat.

"Okay," I reply.

"I misjudged you. I mistook your quietness for... self-importance. I thought you were looking down on my family."

Shocked, I scoff. "What? Lo'ak, I never said a mean word to any of you!"

He sighs. "I know, I know. I just, I don't know, I got the impression that you thought we were stupid or, being with us was a waste of time, and it's hard enough, adjusting to being here. I didn't know, okay? I didn't know, and I'm really sorry. There's no excuse for how I've treated you. I just wanted to apologize."

I purse my lips. "Well... thank you, Lo'ak. Maybe, um, I hope we can be friends."

"Actually, I wanted to show you something. If you want to come with me?" He extends his hand, and after only a moment of skeptical hesitation, I reach out and take it.

--

Payakan is beautiful, just like my soul sister, but something in his eyes... he is sad, and lonely, and you can see the joy he feels when Lo'ak and I approach.

I press my face to his rough skin, right next to his eye, and spread my arms across him.

"Beautiful soul," I whisper, "how misunderstood you've been."

I sit back onto his fin, next to Lo'ak, and sign to the beautiful beast. "I am happy to meet you, brother of Lo'ak. I am outcast too. Half of the forest, half of the reef. I see you."

He's echoing clicks and whistles hit our ears. "I see you, Sister," he replies, and I smile, reaching for him once again.

I turn to Lo'ak, smiling. "Thank you for bringing me to him. He's wonderful."

Lo'ak smiles in return, and it's a beautiful smile, one I've only seen on his face when he's around his family. It makes my heart sing, for him to be smiling like that at me.

"You were right - you two were meant to meet."

"You know, you are Metkayina now too. You are brother of Tulkun." I reach over, placing his hand on my chest. "I feel happiest when I'm with my Soul Sister. She never makes me feel out of place, or to blame."

"To blame?" Lo'ak asks.

I shrug, removing my hand. "Some have said... if I wasn't born, my father would still be here. He was much beloved. Some blame my mother, for leaving us here, but some blame me."

"You were a baby, Y/N," he replies. He reaches over, taking my hand into his, and pulling it into his lap. "You didn't ask to be born, and you deserved nothing but love. You still do. I'll never forgive myself for how I've treated you."

I sign. "I know I can come off strange. I don't ever know what people are going to think of me, and I don't want to give them anything to judge. But I was too quiet, didn't smile or laugh enough, and made you think badly of me."

He shakes his head. "Don't blame yourself for this too. My siblings all think you're great. I'm the only ass."

I blush when he throws the word I'd used to describe him back into my face, but I know he's only teasing.

"Well, I'm glad we've gotten a second chance to be friends."

Payakan rocks us gently in the ocean as we talk, seeming happy to simply have company.

Lo'ak smiles. "Me too." He squeezes my hand tightly, and we stare at each other for a long, lingering moment.

I lean forward, catching myself by surprise, and press a soft kiss to Lo'ak's unsuspecting lips.

He is still at first, almost frozen, but as I pull away, he leans forward, capturing my lips with his for a longer, deeper kiss.

When we pull away, breathless, we both smile.

I have never felt more at home.

[helluvabossrewrite45]

Unhappy Campers rewrite - Millie, Moxxie and the Mission

Here's the rewrite for millie's and moxxie's conflict

I figure it would make more sense for moxxie to focus on the mission, rather than impressing a bunch of teenagers and so does millie, but still appreciates the support shes getting on her own achievements instead of being inferior to someone else. This is one of the reasons why this would've been a season 1 episode (the main one being the end)

I kinda want to rewrite moxxies song too, i cant neccesarily do it normally since its got the big white texts with moxxies icon over it but maybe i'll make it happen. I just know that the song would be moxxie's second attempt of finding the one that killed their client by making an intimating song of the clients murder and how he knows who did it (even when he isnt). I got it off a line from another adult show, 'kevin can go f*** himself' (really underrated show btw) where this detective said something about finding suspects through pretending to know who the criminal is, so thats what moxxie is trying to do basically.

But y'know its funny that i mentioned 'kevin can go f*** himself' because that show is meant to satirize sitcom tropes, mainly the 'lazy dumb man-child with the attractive smart wife' where we see it from the wife's pov (whose name is allison) and discover how much of a dipshit kevin is (the husband), especially towards the very end (not spoiling it though) and its not only funny because many adult animated shows are sitcoms with that exact trope but it also shows how a character can change or not through the consequences they would be receiving. Because while both characters (allison and kevin) tend to get away with a lot of shit, we see allison growing more through her receiving more consequences for her actions than kevin who never really has to face any at all (until the very end of course) and its not only from allison either, her friend 'patty', her aunt 'diane' , kevins best friend 'neil' (though i argue he's at the start to but definitely received consequences for his own actions) and thats why i think blitzo and stolas stagnated since they dont tend to be called out on their bullshit and if they do, that wouldnt mean anything because they'll be back to status quo, like a sitcom...

Anyway, I highly recommend 'kevin can go f*** himself'. Its a show from amc+ but its available on 'flixtor' for free (which is where i watched it but you do need ad blockers/extensions for those kinds of sites though). It's interesting, it satirizes the sitcom well, its a drama comedy (kinda like helluva boss but is more well balanced), its formatted pretty uniquely (with it having the 'sitcom light' compare to the darker 'real world'), it only has 2 seasons with 8 episodes each (which are always around 40-46 minutes), it's pretty suspenseful and its even got a sapphic relationship between patty and the detective (who is called 'tammy ridgeway') and their written well. The whole show is pretty well written imo, so if your interested in that or want to watch adult media besides helluva, that might be the show for you.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 7 - Gull

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

Scott paces, Virgil paints, John panics…

Another little warning for things discussed but not actually happening here. Some of Scott’s pondering is based on either my own experience or that of friends… sorry if it therefore seems ‘out of voice’ for him, but it’s where I think he lands at this point in the story.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The Sunday morning sun peeked cautiously over the horizon and cast a burnt orange glow over the water as Scott paced the length of the balcony again and again. He barely noticed the changing light, his focus on wrestling his own mind into submission… with minimal success.

He wanted to run. Run until he was too exhausted to think. That would help him get out of this spiral. But he knew he’d never back get past the puppy pile he’d managed to sneak away from when he awoke suddenly desperate to see the sky. He paused and pressed his face against the glass to see them still peaceful, all in wildly different sleeping positions and, he smiled affectionately, probably making the full range of amusing sleep-noises between them.

He’d not get away with opening the door again, not now the dawn chorus had started, someone would wake. And they needed their sleep. Fine. He was trapped here for the time being.

Unless he climbed down…

He peered over the railing down at the pool deck.

No, he couldn’t run if he broke a leg. And his brothers would probably panic and assume he’d been trying something silly. Sillier than climbing down a cliff face merely because he needed to adrenaline-burn some thoughts from his mind without an audience.

Predictably they were very worried about that. John had asked him outright last night if there was any ideation - a form of words that sounded very much like Patricia in risk-management mode. Of course she’d probably had a word.

He knew why he was asking, but it was hard not to shrug it off as a non-issue. Sure, he could admit wasn’t in a great place right now… but as he told her at the start of every session when the question came - his protective factors were rock solid. And they were the brothers he was responsible for. He wasn’t ever going to deliberately do anything to hurt them, they’d suffered enough loss.

As much as he wished his family had been left with somebody more… well… Everything… Scott was what they were stuck with and despite the darker thoughts he knew logically that he was better than nothing. He knew he couldn’t knowingly leave them with all the burdens his father had left him with. One of the more frequent questions he’d yelled at the horizon from the privacy of the far side of the island was why on Earth Dad had saddled him with so much ADMIN?

A gull screeched at him in agreement.

A wry smile. He could sort the admin. He was good for something at least. And, for whatever reason, they did love him, he knew that. They kept going out of their way to demonstrate it.

And Dad had had flaws, hadn’t he? More apparent in retrospect… but Scott still loved and missed him… so it stood to reason the others might miss Scott if he was gone.

No, no silliness.

Whether he’d ever be any real use again though…

He watched the bird wheel overhead and his heart sank. No flight for him for a while. If One was needed, Alan would pilot her. He’d made the decision before poor Virgil had been forced to. His brother had been through enough dealing with Scott’s mess and selfishness recently. He seemed exhausted, he felt a stabbing guilt, and John was little better.

The pacing recommenced.

In retrospect, switching off the comm for the flight home had been unwise. But he’d felt it best that the full range of military-schooled curse words he’d yelled into the void of One’s cockpit did not end up on the official record and could not be overheard by impressionable younger brothers. It had made sense at the time. But yeah, they’d assumed the worst and… he cringed… Virgil and John seemed to have been really freaked out by something else that he needed to get to the bottom of.

Yet another thing to fix. Typical Scott Tracy, number one impulsive idiot - why think it through beforehand when you can overthink it one hundred times after the event?

The seabird suddenly nosedived to plunge into the water. He stopped to watch. It emerged empty-beaked and Scott felt a twinge of sympathy. Better luck next time little friend. The hill seemed to shrug it off, flew out of sight and the useful distraction was lost.

His mind swerved unavoidably back to yesterday and the relentless back and forth began again.

She stared up at him, again, pale-faced and wide-eyed, clear as the fists he clenched in front of him, closer than his own skin.

It had to be her. He knew it was her and she’d known him. But what if it wasn’t? What if she had merely been one of the many other rescuees over the years? His reaction would have seemed so weird and inappropriate. There might be a complaint.

But what if it was her? That was worse? It was definitely worse. He felt sick as he realised he’d grabbed her by the shoulders in much that same way as that monster in the square had when… when…

Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe he hadn’t recovered as well as he thought. He was just seeing her in the faces of random people. That had happened before, when he first got back he passed her on the street several times a day, she was serving behind every counter, brought the mail to their door…

Could it have been though?

It was. He knew it was as sure as he could be sure of anything. He’d seen her so many times, particularly recently when he’d been sick.

Before the sickness, he’d contained it all fairly well during waking hours. There were certain odd triggers he struggled to counter. The slightly blood-like scent of rusted iron for example, thankfully not a common building material these days, but when they encountered it at close range… for a few moments he’d be back there crouching behind the rubble, the fence pole in his hand resting slightly on the side of his face as he watched her defy the soldiers.

But the nights… So many nights he’d shouted again and again for her to run but the sound wouldn’t come out… or if it did, it was rasping and painful and too slow. Too slow. She had waited too long. He strained and struggled against the unrelenting arms holding him back as the thug with the combat knife barked an instruction, then turned and gave chase.

She hadn’t got far enough away, he’d known that truth for ten years.

He’d failed.

Then there’d been pain and darkness.

He’d regained consciousness in the tiny cell and the pain and darkness had only intensified… he squeezed his fists and eyes closed and sang the names of his brothers to himself under his breath. He didn’t need to go there.

That Place didn’t hold him anymore.

SHE did, though.

She was watching every time he failed to save another person. All the times he wasn’t quick enough or strong enough, he had apologised to the ghost of her over and over and over.

If she was alive…

If she WAS alive… it changed everything.

He had to know for sure.

He turned his back to the sun and gazed up at the fading morning star for a long moment. Then tapped his comm and whispered quietly “EOS? Can you do me a favour?”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It had been a quiet couple of days.

Alan and Kayo had completed one rescue in orbit and the rest of them had sat in the lounge assisting on comms. Scott had been a little quieter than usual, deferring to John on a couple of points where usually Virgil might have expected him to be more decisive, but it WAS a space rescue and that wasn’t entirely unheard of. Scott had never been space’s biggest fan.

Other than that they’d all done their own thing, mostly within reasonably close proximity to their oldest brother because, at least for Virgil, it was difficult to actually let him out of his sight. So he’d played piano, painted on the mezzanine, baked a couple of apple pies. Normal things he’d normally be in the communal area to do and not suspicious at all.

Scott himself was sorting some TI paperwork and, at one point, handwriting the little cards they tried to send to young rescuees within two weeks of the event in which they were involved. Many were drafted by a special department at TI, the actual Tracy involved usually just adding a signature or, in Virgil’s case, a tiny doodle. But Scott did like to make them more personal when he had the time so the only unusual thing was that it wasn’t being done at 2am the night before their posting deadline.

When a quick count had revealed 11 cards rather than 10 stood up to dry, Virgil had wandered past and casually queried it - they didn’t usually include the adults after all. Scott silently handed him the extra card which appeared to be addressed to “Alex’s Awesome Right Shoe” at which point the younger brother concluded that whatever the story was behind that, it could wait for when Scott was ready to tell.

Along with all the rest. Hopefully.

He’d even gone to bed at a reasonable hour which was rather more odd. Virgil felt slightly uncomfortable asking EOS to confirm he was actually in bed… like she was some kind of high tech baby monitor… but her assurance meant he felt able to retire to his studio to work on a project too messy for the lounge.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Shortly before midnight Virgil was clearing up in his studio when John popped up on looking serious but not in the usual way.

“Evening John, what’s up? Do we have a situation?”

His brother cleared his throat and appeared uncertain of what he was about to say.

“Virgil, Scott asked EOS to hack a couple of… databases.”

Virgil frowned and turned off the tap, spinning to face John’s hologram with paintbrushes still dripping, “What databases? Whose databases?”

John’s eye twitched. “The UK Home Office and the GDF War Archives.”

Virgil cursed as one of his more delicate brushes snapped in his fist.

“And… did she?”

“Of course she did, he’s the Commander. Honestly, Virgil, I’m beginning to think she listens to him more than to me. She’s certainly been chatting away on his direct line fairly frequently. Apparently he’s been answering some of her ‘modern historical and anthropological questions’” John’s use of air quotes somehow conveyed deep unease. “I have instructed her not to annoy him but he hasn’t complained. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’d gone soft on him since he was sick.”

“Well it’s better that they get along, I suppose. But John, what are they up to? Why?!”

“She said she was instructed not to reveal the details but has interpreted that instruction to mean she can tell me the basics without detail. She’s quite proud of how quickly she got through their firewalls.”

John paused.

“Virgil, maybe you should put those down?”

He looked down at the expensive brushes he’d been mangling and flung them into the sink.

“When was this?”

“Yesterday morning, apparently. Has he been working on Tracy Industries material ALL day today?”

“Yes. At least… I assumed so? I try not to get involved unless it’s R&D. All I did was check in and remind him to go to bed at a sensible time. From what I could tell then it was mostly spreadsheets on screen. Didn’t he have a budget thing to approve?”

“No. That was last week. I’ll see if I can find out what documents he was looking at but...” John coughed awkwardly at this point and Virgil looked at him quizzically until he continued “I haven’t currently got EOS’s help because she’s powered herself down for what she called “essential self care and maintenance” so with one thing and another it might take me a little while. Could you go and check on him?”

Virgil wiped his hands on his jeans and sprinted from the room.

He paused and listened at his brothers’ door. Gentle snoring floated through the wood and Virgil’s frown deepened. His brother didn’t tend to snore unless he was sick? He pushed open the door and found himself unsurprised to find the room empty, his brothers’ comms unit carefully located in the centre of the un-slept-in bed and a sound effects track playing on loop. He swiped it off in frustration and was lifting his arm to call John when his brother popped up in a state of extreme agitation: “Tracy Two has just taken off. Comms are inactive.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[thana-topsy]

SNIPPET SOMEDAY

Tagged by @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee @archangelsunited and @throughtrialbyfire -- Thanks so much you guys! My focus has been a little scattered, so it's been tough to keep up with tumblr. Mostly due to my terminal case of ENTHIR BRAINROT.

So I'll share a snippet from the new new Enthir one-off I just started, since the one of him and Urag is very close to finishing up.

I tag @kookaburra1701 @argisthebulwark @viss-and-pinegar @greyborn2 @caliblorn @skyrim-forever and @paraparadigm

---

“Karliah?” 

It was like seeing a ghost. She looked thinner than he remembered, half-hidden in the shadows beneath the dark cowl of her cloak, face gaunt, eyes unmistakable. 

“It’s been a while, Enthir,” she said softly. 

Any response was lodged half-formed in his throat. Rumor raged against reason, his hands tightening into fists to keep them steady. Was it really you who killed him? The question lingered on the tip of his tongue. But if the answer was even remotely close to ‘yes’, Enthir knew only one of them would be walking away alive. And the odds were in Karliah’s favor.  

The strange Nord looked between them wearing a stupid expression. “This guy?” he said, gesturing with his thumb.

“Yes,” Karliah confirmed whatever question was really being asked. 

Enthir took a moment to give the Nord more than a sweeping once-over, and a memory clicked into place. He let out an unkind bark of a laugh. “Oh, I remember you. You left quite the knuckle imprint on my jaw.”

“And I’ll do it again if you try any funny business,” the Nord spat. 

“Might I remind you that you joined the Thieves Guild, you oaf. If you were looking for honest work, I might suggest the Companions.” 

“Little rat.” 

“Please,” Karliah cut in, stepping between them. “Bjoryn, he’s a friend.”

Enthir’s lip twisted at the comment. “Friend?” He gave Karliah a skeptical look. “I wouldn’t be so quick to claim that.” 

“Enthir, you have to know it’s not true.” She lowered her hood, her large amethyst eyes cutting through the gloom of the Frozen Hearth's basement. “I loved him. As much as y–”

��Then who did it?” Enthir hissed, heat gathering in his face and fists. 

“Mercer. I witnessed it. Which is why he tried to get rid of me.” 

Enthir tongued along the row of his upper teeth, brow drawn tight. Yes, Mercer would make a whole hell of a lot more sense than Karliah. But he couldn’t be sure. “He succeeded, I’d say.”

“We’re here because he tried to do the same to Bjoryn,” she explained. “We’re going to put a stop to his tyranny. Restore the guild to its rightful glory. Regain the favor of Nocturnal.”

Enthir’s eyes slid to the Nord. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his unkempt brown hair pulled back into a haphazard braid. Darker complexion than most Nords, though his eyes still held that ghostly, Draugr quality—blue like ice, his sclera a shock of white in his features. He wondered if they were fucking. 

“So, you survived, then?” Enthir asked. The question was acidic. What makes you so special?  

“Barely,” Bjoryn ceded with a wince, running a hand along a jagged scar beneath his stubbled jaw—a hastily healed wound, thick with scarring. 

Was that how Mercer had offed Gallus? Slit his throat like livestock set for slaughter? Left him to bleed out on the cold floor of an ancient tomb? The thought settled like a rock in his stomach, leaving him feeling helpless and sick.

“Why do you need me?” Enthir pressed, eyes unfocused.

“Because we need help translating this.” Karliah pulled a journal from the satchel hanging from her shoulder and handed it to Enthir. 

He brushed his hand over the cover reverently, already knowing what it was. “You finally found it…” he murmured, more to himself than anything. He’d wondered after the journal himself. Gallus was rarely seen without it. Shadows of memory flitted through his mind, like dapples of sunlight shifting through a thick canopy—Gallus hunched over Enthir’s desk, scribbling away, half undressed, half asleep, his hair sticking up at an odd angle from the way he buried his head beneath Enthir’s pillows. 

“Is it really so important?” Enthir asked from the bed, arching into a stretch.

“If I don’t write it down, it’ll leave my mind forever…”

“Well get back over here when you’re done.”

It felt wrong to pry into its contents. Gallus was a private man—something Enthir respected. And something they had in common. The pressure of Karliah and Bjoryn’s presence got the better of him, and he flipped the journal open. Then paused, squinting down at the page. A warm fondness unfurled behind his breastbone.

“Hah! Figures…” 

“Can you make sense of it?” Bjoryn asked. 

“Nope.” Enthir snapped the journal closed, offering a thin, unkind smile. “Looks like he was using the ancient Falmer alphabet as his cipher, the clever bastard.”

“Do you know where we might find a key?” Karliah ased. “He and you had a shared interest in the Falmer, so I thought…” She trailed off, waiting for Enthir to respond. 

“You thought wrong.” He handed her the journal. “Though I could send you in the same direction I sent him all those years ago: Markarth.”

“Markarth?” Bjoryn repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Why?”

“To consult the Altmer court wizard, Calcelmo. Be warned, though. He’s a fiercely guarded researcher, but he had whatever resources Gallus needed to write like that.” He nodded towards the journal in Karliah’s hands.

“Will you help us translate it?” Karliah pressed. “If we get the proper materials to decode it?” She paused as Enthir let the silent stretch between them. “You knew him well, Enthir. Better than me, in some ways.” 

It was a nice play. Enthir fixed her with a calculated stare, then shrugged with casual indifference. “I could be persuaded.” He crossed his arms and shifted to prop himself up against the wall. “If you’re heading to Markarth anyway, there is something I’ve been trying to get my hands on.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Bjoryn spat. “Come on, Karliah.” He placed a firm (but noticeably gentle) hand on her shoulder. “We can manage on our own.”

“What is it?” Karliah asked, refusing to move, eyes locked with Enthir.

Enthir smiled conspiratorially. “Please, step into my office.”

[mushroompone]

Hello! I really love your writing and with all the hype going with the mlp infection/zombie I was wondering how do you approach writing horror/gore? I mostly like to write slice of life, romantic, fluffy stories, so whenever I try to write something darker, a zombie apocalypse for example, the violence feels juvenile and the horror falls flat. Your stuff is absolutely terrifying and amazing, so I'm just sitting here wondering how?? I know that's a broad question, but I would appreciate a peek into your thought process for writing horror. Thank you and have a good day!!

Oh my gosh you're so kind!! First off, thank you! I have really enjoyed writing horror for this community for many years now, and it's been sorry cool to see this massive interest during of of nowhere for MLP horror content!

Second, definitely a broad question, but I can offer some broad tips in response:

(1) Work with what scares you. Horror actually comes naturally to most of us, you just have to be willing to explore some of the darker corners of yourself. Consume horror as much as possible and try not to shy away from what scares you. Most importantly, though, understand why you find it scary. This leads to step 2...

(2) Drill down to the core fear. There's a lot of creatures and things that pop up in horror again and again: ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and certainly zombies. But to work with these effectively we have to understand why they scare us. The answer is different for everyone! Let's take zombies as an example: for me, zombies are scary because they are infectious. I find plagues and diseases to be really really scary, even pre-covid lol. For others, it's more about loss of control - becoming a zombie means becoming an animal, or something else inhuman. Dig until you find the why. Then...

(3) Give someone the worst day possible. Picking your protagonist is critical. The monster has to be difficult for them to face! So think about what will play well off your core fear. If you've found zombies as your monster and distilled that to loss of control .. well, Luna would be a great choice! She's all about loss of control. That's super scary and very real for her. If you're going in more of an infectious disease direction, Twilight would make more sense - she would make a very believable germaphobe, yet still be driven to help those around her and find a cure. If you do it right, all you have to do is...

(4) Sit back and let it happen. It helps to have a destination in mind (even if it's as simple as "happy ending" or "real downer"), but if you've set yourself up this way you've got a concept and you're ready to let it rip. Start writing. Be gross. Scare yourself. Look over your shoulder and wonder who might be watching you. If you get stuck, ask yourself this: how could this possibly get any worse? Then do that. With pizzazz.

The details of writing prose that is gooey, gory, and chilling come from reading. You'll start to get a feel for where to linger, where to hold back, where to describe, and what to leave up to your reader's imagination. The hardest part is the balancing act - keep some things obscured. Leave some mystery while making it clear what is scary and why. However, once your audience knows the precise size and shape of what they're dealing with, it becomes a lot less scary! My rule of thumb is that I never want my audience to be able to plan a way around the danger. They should never be able to devise their own means of escape - something should always be left uncertain or shrouded in darkness.

I hope this helps!! If you'd ever like someone to look at what you're working on, I love beta-reading pony horror :) actually, come to think of it, I love beta-reading all horror!

Again, thank you! Your an earned my heart ❤️ I love hearing that my sacred are still scaring!

[elvenbeard]

2067

"My childhood, let’s see… Nights spent lookin’ for a star - any star… All dimmed by city lights. Silent lullabies sung by the flickering neon signs of Charter Hill…"

Born into Night City's corporate world to upper middle class managers Marcella and Kousuke Ezaki, Vince lived a very comfortable and sheltered life growing up. Nice corporate apartment in Charter Hill's bustling Grant Avenue, excellent education, always the newest clothes, the fanciest tech, the best cyberware money can buy from a young age on.

It was almost too comfortable and sheltered really. With what they had invested in him and his future, his parents demanded perfection and performance - and obedience. While Vince was eager to deliver at first, being naturally ambitious, it always felt like something was wrong, something was missing... He just never quite fit in, despite trying his hardest.

Vince's father died when he was 13 - by suicide in the company bathroom, or so it seemed at the time. The pressure had gotten too much for him to bear and he saw no other way out; that had been the official explanation. The supposed truth though, which Vince would uncover many years later, was more complex and even darker than that.

On top of it, Vince's parents had never led the happiest marriage, worn down by stress and growing disagreements. It started over smaller issues: which car to buy, when to go on holiday, which school was best for their child. But soon they fought daily, constantly, about everything... And Vince fled into the arms of kids his age and older that never had the best intentions with him, but lured him in with a sense of belonging somewhere finally.

After his father's death, Vince's mother grew increasingly paranoid and controlling - her focus shifted from her husband to her child, whom she did not want to lose as well. Simultaneously though, she refused to accept that Vince had become his own person and would never be who and what she'd wanted him to be. The harder she tried to hold on to him, do her bidding, obey, the further she ended up pushing him away...

Vince through the years (1/9)

Little BTS rambles below the cut here!

Remember these? XD Yeah, I'm finally getting around to doing my "Vince through the years" project I teased a couple months ago. I finally decided on a format! xD I wanted something diary-entry like, but not too long and complex, otherwise I could probably sink months into this, do some cool lorebook-like graphics and whatnot...

I might still do that in the future, revamp some shots, or maybe one day make a character page or something in a more complex graphic style... but for now I just really wanna share some lore actually 👀 And get these shots published before they go bad!! (read as: before I don't like them anymore cause I'm getting better with my VP XD)

Also, a little comparison - vanilla vs edited shot:

Aging him down around 10 years was hard, but also fun XD I did this a while ago and meanwhile I might do some stuff different, but I'll leave them as is now xD But yeah, I tried some other complexions first that look younger than his 2077 one, but they made him look like a completely different person, so I went with the Photoshopping approach instead. Does he look like a pre-T teenager? Eh. If you squint XD But I'll take it!

Back then he already loved his massive coats that made him look bigger and wider than he really is. Hair dyed blond mostly because both his parents have dark hair, for that good old teenage rebelliousness and self-expression <3

I kinda implied it in the text but... yeah his parents were both pretty messed up. They did see him more like an investment than a kid most of the time. It was in the end damaging to all three of them, but most to Vince, leading to him becoming a little fucked up as well.

And when I say "investment" I literally mean, they invested money into making him as flawless as possible. Got him cyberoptics and whatnot installed as a 5-year-old to combat genetic eye-problems running in their families (when glasses couldve done the trick), things like that. His mother had planned some more things for as soon as he would finish school, but he ran away from home before that.

Before that already he went on to destroy all these perfect things they tried to achive with his body, got stick-and-poke tattoos, pierced his own ear, found a semi-shady Ripper who would install him a cyberdeck *he* wanted, not the one his mother got him, etc etc. XD

He spent a lot of time with the wrong pepole, too, but the connection to them at least helped him realize that he's trans - obviously one more thing that his mother did not plan for with her "perfect child" and tries to first ignore then actively shut down as best as she can. This is a hate-post for Vince's mom <3

What really happened to his dad is gonna follow in a post to come ooooor maybe I'll leave it a secret until I finished writing his background story fic 👀

[c-kiddo]

You’re very very right about the lack of diversity in character design, esp thinking about it in regards to CR3. Like Laudna is clearly meant to be a lot more willowy and uncanny looking than she’s shown in the character art. & the many many issues w/ Ashton’s design aside [I just,,Don’t like his design much. There was potential buts it’s just. Eh., it’s weak], it makes like zero sense for him to look the way he does being a barbarian!! Not that he has to be huge & all by any means, but he does not read barbarian aside from his big ol hammer :p

(trigger warning for talking about weight and body size/type in regards to character designs. also disclaimer that this is just talking about designs for fun, its /lh and just my musings)

i honestly quite like laudna's design overall, i think its hard to tell though, how thin she is, since she's very covered up. i actually really love her face and how her teeth dont quite fit in her mouth, which is something common with very underweight people, and i like her big dark eyes. ... i find her hard to draw quite right tho. and i think (no offense /g) in the fandom is really where people smooth her out, take away any wrinkle, and just make her kind of pretty and soft... like, no, i want her skin to be translucent. show me the veins in her eyelids!!!!

yea. . ashton's design is rly not my favourite. i redesigned him, which, i no longer rly like that drawing, mostly because of how i drew their hair. recently i've been trying to figure out how to draw the crystals even tho the idea makes my skin crawl a little lol. the main problem i have with their design is the colours - their clothes are similar values, a dark grey and a Bright red, and it just clashes with the purple and specific green of their skin .. in this last drawing of ashton i posted i think it's sorta better while still keeping the same colours, so theres that - also i think darker colours fits his character more, down in the shadowy alleys and bars of jrusar. also yea, not a fan of how totally shredded and sinewy he is, he needs to hydrate lol

my least favourite of the cr3 designs is between them and imogen though..i redesigned imogen recently and that was so much fun. i just think , her canon design doesn't suit her at all.. it's just a bit nothing-y, like a generic tomb-raiding (yikes) video game protagonist. and i think a hat suits her super well, since as well as mind-reading she has migraines and prefers to go unseen, so, she shades herself from the sun and staring with the hat.. also i just covered her up more so she wouldn't get sunburnt kajndks, its all light materials.. im just worried about her skin. also thought something a little more,, idk androgynous (??) practical (??) might be cool. like, she's got her waist-coast and her hat and bandana round her neck.. so turned her from sexy tomb-raider halloween costume to a cowboy, like her backstory is clearly inspired by :-] !! idk thats a ramble, i should catch up on cr3 i love imogen v much she has so much autism swag and she's so cool 2 me