#we can raise our pitchforks to them instead

[active-mind-15]

Idk who said something like that about losing "privilege" to play with Kuroko because I must emphasize once again that Kuroko is not a perfect protagonist whatsoever.

I don't harbor any anger for him at all because he is a literal teenager and I don't expect him to have the critical thinking of an adult, but the reality is that his friends were all going through their own shit mentally but he centered himself around everything and took the inner turmoil his friends were experiencing as a personal attack. He was more lenient to Aomine, but then he told Akashi to his face that he was the reason why the team had changed. Given that Akashi was already at his lowest, that was the LAST thing he needed to hear from Kuroko, especially since it objectively wasn't true. 😭

And Kuroko is wishy-washy about his stance on certain things. Violence is never the answer according to him, but he punched Kagami in the face mid-game when they were up against Shuutoku early in the series. Not to mention the 111-11 incident. Kuroko stood by and watched the GoM toy with opponents and didn't say much aside from a quick "that wasn't nice" after the game was over. But he absolutely expected special treatment for Ogiwara during the finals and was very vocal about GoM taking games seriously ONLY when he had a personal stake in the match.

No one person in that friend group is completely innocent, and that's fine. Like everyone has said, they were all kids who had no idea how to handle stuff like this, and so they all played a part in tearing each other down. Including Kuroko. He had his own flaws, but I think due to his own underdog story, people either forget or pretend those flaws don't exist.

Just saw someone say that the GoM(-Momoi) lost the "privilege" of playing on the same team as kuroko and Im😭😭

[caffieneaddictt18]

My Witcher

"Geralt of Rivia! The Witcher known as the White Wolf! After discussion, we, the people of Snorzinbrog, have sentenced you to death by decapitation for the charges that have been put against you: assault, murder, and desecration of our goddess' altar! What do you have to say to this?!" The leader of the town read from a scroll to Geralt. The entire town was behind Geralt, watching this all happen. They held torches and pitchforks, but not necessarily doing anything with them. They are just standing there.

Geralt rolls his eyes and grunts, "Please just get it over with."

"As you wish!" The leader waves his hand towards the executioner. The man forces Geralt to his knees and his head to rest against a piece of wood. Geralt wiggles around to get more stability.

The executioner raises his axe as the entire town watches in awe. Geralt starts praying, and the leader of Snorzinbrog looks at Geralt funny.

"You had your chance for final words, Witcher! In the name of the goddess, _____, kill him!" The executioner swings his axe at the command of the ealdorman. The silver in the polished glass glints in the light of sunset and twilight.

Right before the axe hits, it disappears and is instead changed into moths. They flod the executioner and ealdorman, who fail in trying to bat them away from their face. The moths disperse after a few seconds, allowing Geralt to sit back from leaning forward, legs tucked under him.

"WHO DARES TO HARM MY WITCHER?" A terrifying tall woman rises from the water beyond the cliffside where they executed and disposed of bodies. You have a halo of a storm that wasn't there a second ago. Ocean water clashes with stone and splashes everyone. You are surrounded by a holy light, a foreboding light. One that sends fear down your enemies' spines and anxiety crawling up their throats. You glare sends the men to their knees.

They may kill people they deem by their rules to have done wrong, but not this one. This one is yours.

"M-MY LADY!” The man shouts, falling to his knees. His wonderful goddess, the goddess he worships, is here before him. He has done everything right. So why have you called the White Wolf 'your Witcher'? Does this heathen also worship you? No. Geralt's in love with you and you have fallen just as hard.

“NO. YOU HAVE COMMITTED A TRANSGRESSION AGAINST ME. LEAVE, WHILE YOU CAN. TAKE CARE OF YOUR WOMEN AND CHILDREN. THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY, SHOULD YOU NOT CONTINUE TO ABIDE BY MY LAWS.” Your voice bellows, flowing from the cliffside to the village that resides just a mile away. A lightning strike hits next to the ealdorman, a warning.

“YES-YES, YOUR HOLINESS!”

As his head hits the soil as he bows to you, you turn into your human form. A beautiful woman with lovely (H/C) hair and gorgeous (E/C) eyes. The most stunning person Geralt has laid eyes on. Geralt stands as you walk to him, wind whipping your hair, looking as though you belong with the grey clouds that threaten to darken. The ocean bows to you as your worshippers do. The storm churns at your request, and Geralt now registers how close you are with your hand cradling his face. Your eyes look him over worriedly, finding no injuries but still concerned.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I met you.” Geralt caresses your face as you free him of his chains with a wave of your hands. They clatter to the ground, clinging against each other at the release of their tension. The blood in your face gets hot as you lean into his touch.

“Let’s go, my darling,” You whisper as you whisk him away to a place of safety and love. Your home.

Your home on a cliff overlooking the torrential ocean and churning clouds, just barely hidden by a layer of forestry. Geralt looks out on the scenery and holds you tightly.

“You won’t ever lose me. You are the words to my sword. What cannot be done by one can be done by the other.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against your own.

“I almost lost you. If you hadn’t prayed to me when you did… if they hadn’t made a sacrifice, I never would have put two and two together… I can’t lose you. The world would burn. I’m supposed to keep the peace.” A deep breath rolls through you, loosening your tense back muscles. The surrounding nature calms as you do and the storm dies down. You can faintly hear a crying of praise at your good will for blessing the masses with good weather. It’s as if the world was whispering its adoration and thanks just for your kindness. You know that if it wasn’t for Geralt, these people thanking you wouldn’t be thanking you. They would be cursing you for ruining their laundry.

“What has happened, has happened. What matters now is that everything is done. Let’s be home, love.” Geralt leads you into the cabin where you and your lover revel in each other all night long and possibly even into the morning.

Author’s Cup of Tea:

I apologize for the short chapter. I was busy, but still wanted to produce something. If it’s good, let me know! If it’s bad, also let me know! *Takes out a penny and casts Detect Thoughts* Penny for your thoughts? Au revoir!

Edit: I understand that I changed quite a and did plenty of editing, but I hope it is still good, and possibly better. Until next time, lovelies!

[matan4il]

Why I will never give up on Canon Buddie..... Listen I am just a little straight girl who grew up on romance novels. You want Eddie with a women. Well, I mean Vanessa was perfect if you were a writer.

One dare I say she was a better version of Anna and 2 with a little manipulation she could be the girl version of Buck. I mean no one ever could, so don't come for me with pitchforks I just meant in general. She was beautiful, fun, a little heartbroken and didn't add stress to Eddie. Telling the story?? So easy it's a tale as old as time. She shares his culture so let's fake date to throw our tias off. Become friends. Maybe meet Chris. Maybe hesitate to do more because she's jaded and worried it won't work out and how will that effect Chris. Like I have seriously read this story a million times yet the writers never pull the trigger.

My second thing. Again I am a moderately attractive straight single girl. It is not that hard for me to find a relationship. I can throw a rock and find companionship you know?? No disservice to us straights it's just facts. So the fact that the writers intentionally get this wrong while being so loud about the couch screams volumes to me. Especially when you couple it with the fact these 2 do not wing man for each other, talk about sex lives and only refer to the significant other to tell them to dump them. That is the loudest part about their living in each other's back pocket BFF forever relationship. I mean Eddie couldn't even process Buck taking care of himself.

In conclusion 911 if you want me to stop shipping them this all on you. I mean I will never stop. But you could at least try!!

Awww, Nonnie! :D Welcome to the hopeless romantics club! We got comfy cushions for you, as well as cookies. ;)

Regarding Vanessa, yeah. I have seen plenty of rom coms that start off with the exactly interaction she and Eddie had. He's not ready, she's not ready, they come to the date with the intent to let each other down easy, and when they realize they were never an option for the other person, it intrigues them. It could have easily developed in the direction of "instead of going through this repeatedly, how about we fake date to get our Tias off our cases?" and slowly falling for each other. TBH, I wouldn't have been surprised if that's what 911 would go with, since so many shows would. I'm glad it didn't, that the point really was to help Eddie progress on his romantic journey rather than set him up with yet another LI.

I agree with you! I already thought it was eyebrow raising when 911 let Buddie be single throughout the entirety of s3 and a respectable chunk of 4a. Now in s6, they're both once again very single. And we're talking young, good looking, heroic firefighters. It should not be hard for them to find romance, yet out of almost 5 seasons of them being on the show together, roughly 2.5 they spend with both of them being single men. When they're the only single members of the main cast! That is VERY unusual, it's not the route most TV shows would take with their only single characters, you know? That Buck and Eddie are directly responsible for this state of double singleness a part of the time just makes it all more hilarious. XD

I've said it before, I will always ship Buddie. Which means as long as the show is on air and both of their characters are alive, I will hope for canon Buddie. But even if that doesn't happen, Buddie is canon to me. The show has written and filmed their epic love story, and I can't unsee that no matter what. In my head, it will always be just a matter of time before these two morons figure it out.

Thank you so much for this ask, lovely! Have a wonderful day. As always, my ask tag. xoxox

[tods-void]

The Outcast and the Bear

There once was a man who could find home nowhere amongst his kin. Chased out violently anywhere he dared try begin a life, he eventually was forced into the woods. One night, under the stars, he prayed to his god to at least give him a tool so he may defend himself.

The next morning, when he woke up, he saw a rifle and box of bullets laying next to him. With this sign, he strode boldly further into the forest until he came upon a house. Feeling blessed by good fortune, he barged into the house, determined to finally have a home. But this home was not empty as he saw a large bear with three small cubs behind her.

The man raised his gun and proclaimed “I claim this house as mine. You can stay here so long as you recognise this as my home and property!”

“We have lived here for many years, what gives you the right?” responded the bear.

“I have been chased from every home I’ve ever tried to build. I have been chased with torches and pitchforks and stones and knives. Without a home I will die! And now I have a sign from God” he said, holding up his rifle “That he does not want me to suffer any longer!”

“This is our home” the bear protested “Though you may live with us if nobody will have you, so long as we live as equals and friends”

Without another word, however, the outcast leveled his rifle and shot the bear through the heart. It fell, dead and bleeding, its children screaming and weeping.

The man then leveled the gun at them and said “This is my house. Obey me and I will feed you and give you water” then forced the three cubs into the cellar. Scared and helpless, the cubs obeyed and so the man locked the cellar hatch.

But the outcast knew that if he fed them, they would one day be big enough and strong enough to take revenge upon him, so he fed them scraps and murky water so they would be weak and lame. But still they were alive and still he was afraid. One night he climbed down into the cellar and killed the three bears, who by then were frail and sickly.

Finally, the outcast thought, he could feel safe. That was until one night he woke up to the smell of smoke and the heat of fire and saw flames all around him. Standing above him on the bed was the ghastly spectre of the mother bear, her wound still open and bleeding.

“You could have been our friend and we would have welcomed you in our home. Instead you chose fear and selfishness. Enjoy your safety in your home for as long as you can”

“I have suffered enough! I deserve this home!” the man screamed “My god promised it to me!”

“I do not see your god here, only the bed you yourself have made. Lie in it now and forever more”

And with that, the mother bear disappeared. The outcast ran downstairs to try and escape but found the door of the house locked. He tried to break a window and jump out but found them all barred. Smoke and screams rose into the night sky and in the morning sun only ashes remained.

[rarepears]

A little bit of both really. In the first timeline Himbo ends up building a base in the forest he’s in, a treehouse of course, then after learning some Chinese from Plant consort(not that he’s knows that or that he practically promised to have at least one baby with)

Then he and plant consort accidentally pick up a demon child, raise the child under the benevolent MC halo and the child heads out at around seventeen to fight for the position of the head of his (demonic) family. With short hair, because his Better Father and Better Male Mother thinks he looks nice with shorter hair. The fact he looks handsome with short hair barely gives him enough plot relevance to be recruited instead of killed by LBH,

Himbo goes out into the world a few years later to check up on his child. He has yet to figure out that there are different realms and accidentally bodyguards children of increasingly higher status until he raises Liu Qingge.

Normally side characters are influenced by the Main Character but due to Himbo not being the MC of this world and Liu Qingge having more influence on the plot they give each other character development.

(And I haven’t found a good name for Himbo yet! Chinese has so many meanings for the same word)

Uh... Liu Binghe isn't going to be recruiting anyone just because of their short hair. Short hair in China signals a criminal history - Confucian said “Our body, hair, and skin are given by our parents and we shouldn’t damage them lightly. That is the first step of filial piety.” With this in mind, cutting hair was a severe punishment to criminals for what it symbolized, ruining one’s social standing and immediately marking out the shorn individual as a criminal in public.

Himbo and his kids are going to need to have long hair or they are going to be constantly chased out of villages with pitchforks. And pursued by cultivators under the suspicion that they are perhaps runaway criminals who escaped their prison sentence with how short their hair is.

Maybe plant consort can weave extensions/wigs from plant fiber (or like a hat?) to hide just how short their hair is?

[More in the #a himbo fratboy in svsss au]

[desudog-gone]

I wish I could say, "I can't even spend a pride happy, can I?" But to do that, would to be lacking in acknowledging that pride is a riot for an ongoing issue, an issue that, much like iron crosses in the punk scene, our very own enemy has worked their way into ranks, and threatens to undo us entirely, because as it turns out, it's easier to fall back into hatred, than to walk forward in love.

It's just sickening to me how like, even within the people I meet offline, it feels like 60-70% of feminists and queer people don't just want the boot off their chest. They want THEIR boot on someone's chest. They dont want the oppressor out of power, they want to have his favor. They want their own ironed uniform, shined boots, lint-less authority cap.

People who come from families of oppressors who cannot imagine a happy world that doesn't denote a lesser sex, a lesser race, a lesser class, someone to work to the bone and put to death, someone to wave their pitchforks at.

Genuinely so many people who's perfect world is one of goverment overseen genocide, eugenics, people who speak of controlled, mass death as "cleansings". The person who is treated poorly and reacts with daydreams of "revenge" a revenge that will be carried out as a new regime. "I don't deserve to be raped... but some people do. I don't deserve to be put to death, but some people do. I don't deserve conversion, but some people do. I don't deserve to be treated so terrible, but someone must be. If someone isn't treated terrible, than how can I be at the top with my oppressor? To rise up is to pull someone down!"

It's why "who is and who isn't LGBT" discourse shows up EVERY YEAR. It's why "exclusionist" labels grow stronger every day. Why "trans men are seperate from cis men because they know ~female pains~" is such a common take. It's why "your queerness makes my queerness look bad!" Is so heavy the slightest bit of diversion from the norm even among queers is so intense and often.

Why can't you imagine a world without hate? Why is your utopia one of PUNISHMENT? Methinks you're probably suffocatingly unable to unlearn the white supremacy you were raised with. You were taught that to be the oppressor was to be thriving. But more than that, you were taught that being uncomfortable with unusual people meant they were wrong, and that if you can't understand someone's identity or experiences, than they are a danger.

There's a reason you eat up the very rhetoric that seeks to bury you, not leaving enough time between each place to wipe your mouth. Every year, trans women are sex pests to you, just with different reasoning. Every year, trans men are sexless butches, just with different reasons. Every year, lack of conformity in identity must be an attack, you've just found unconformance that doesn't apply to you now. Every year, someone makes you look bad to people who already want you dead, and you blame your own siblings for it instead. Every year, your craving for exclusionism and a unified "one experience" splits the community further and further.

Every year, you choose to show me that your perfect world is already alive, you just don't like the role you were stuck with. You teach me that if your pleas are answered, you would not advocate for us you left behind. Not only that, but you would join the attack and not think twice. There are people who may read this and still not understand this post is about them. The punishment hungry, the neverwrong, reaching out for a lack of communication, seeking to tell me "I don't understand you, we don't understand you, why won't you die? Don't make me kill you."

I wish I could say it's an exaggeration. But many of the people who say "just go offline" lack the realization, saying that from their own computer, just how many people outside of the internet as well, lack a truely queer mindset. The majority of the people I meet belive in the inherent morality of sex, that you are born as good or evil based on the genitals you grow. The majority of the people I meet treat even they/them pronouns with a reluctant smile, and requests to use them are met with passive aggressive treatment. The majority of the people I meet believe a trans person who does not perfectly emulate the standard of their gender is an embarrassment and "poor example." The majority of the even online queer community, finds me too queer and to be corrected by being beaten into line. The majority of the supposed allies are all to happy to hate me for my queerness.

Not everyone lives in queer heavy places, and still than, many of these queer people are not queer of mind at all, and are all to happy to be a straight homosexual. Never queer never gay, never a friend to the faggot or dyke or transsexual. "One of the good ones." An ally for now and a predator later. All too happy to play in on games of the transsexual predator and the homosexual molester.

Every year, a different queer identity is a threat to "the kids". You just can't let it die.

No herd without a scapegoat no service without a sacrifice

Why is a world without oppression a world incomplete

[the-possum-writes]

Welcome back!! I can’t believe you’re open for requests! Ahh so happy I could cry. There simply aren’t enough Reader x Adventure Time oneshots around, and I absolutely love yours. I also love your headcannons, but they’re only a small taste of the entree compared to the full meal that is a oneshot haha.

Would love to see a Finn x Reader x Fern “sharing is caring” smut oneshot!! But I honestly wouldn’t mind just pushing for that Finn x Reader smut 😏 I guess I’m just really loving the thought of being one of the last humans with our romantic adventurer ❤️

Sharing is Caring

A/n: Finn is definitely a romantic! But when it comes to naughty bits, he gets a bit carried away. Luckily that's why Fern is there to help! Hopefully this is the five star meal you were expecting.

❥Tags/Warnings: NS/FW, fem!reader, oneshot.

❥Ship: Finn/Reader/Fern

❥Synopsis: Finn and Fern are sent on a mission by PB to slay a bipedal monster, however, this monster turns out to be a human woman. With human needs.

❥Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) : @watchingfromthefloorboards

Finn’s boot crunches under dry leafs and sticks, followed by Fern’s own footsteps with his bare spiked feet. “This should be the place the sightings started.” Finn removes his view from the map to observe the forested area around him.

“What makes you think that?” Fern pops in. The human boy didn’t respond but instead pointed to the pile of chicken bones on the ground, already swarmed by ants and other insects. “Peebs says the rumors started when a farmer heard something sneak into his chicken coop and tried to chase after it. Fern dude it was in the report, weren’t you listening?”

“Nah, I was too busy disassociating. So what happened to the farmer?”

Again like before, Finn didn’t verbally respond but instead points to the severed arm holding a pitchfork right across the chicken bone pile. A low growl emerged from somewhere around the forest. Finn and Fern were immediately back to back from each other with Fern summoning his grass blade as Finn pulls out a rapier sword as the growling grows closer, “Remember the combo we practiced.” Finn reassures his grass brother who responds. “Right, I’ll go for the eyes!” Fern raised his sword, eager to shish kabob whatever is out there.

Remember to be careful for what you wish for. A bipedal shadow dropped from the trees above in between the two brothers and knocked them down in a roundhouse kick, Fern instinctively slashed out upwards but the shadow sidestepped and scratched him in the arm. Finn helped by punching the shadow in the gut, they groan from the pain but the close proximity allowed them to bite down on his human flesh. The human boy resists but the strength of the creature’s jaw is something to be wary of, especially since it ripped off a farmers arm, so Finn stopped resisting an let the creature flip him onto the dirt ground. The grass boy retaliates by wrapping his elongated arms around the creature like vines, but the creature continues growling and rolls around in an attempt to shake off the young grass man. During this scuffle, the dark mesh around their body slips off, revealing soft flesh. Finn brandished his sword, ready to impale the beast until he noticed strands of hair that don’t belong to a beast. “Fern, stop dude I don’t think that’s a beast!,” But Fern is too blind with adrenaline to notice that, instead tightening his hold around the creature’s neck until he can hear them gasping for air.

Finn interrupts by slashing Fern’s vine like arms, causing the young man to yelp in pain.” What the flip dude!? I had it under control.”

Meanwhile the creature was on its knees, coughing as it tried to refill their lungs with sweet oxygen. Finn stores his sword on his backpack, removing his bear hat while keeping his palms up in a defensive gesture. “Look, I’m just like you. I think…” he even goes as far as to stick a finger in his mouth to show off his teeth. “No sharp fangs or anything.”

You raise your head to lock eyes with the young man, with his blonde hair lacking any fantasy color, fangs, scales, nothing extravagant on his person besides the robot arm contrasting on his peachy flesh. Still wary of the two boys, you raise the hood of you dark cloak to reveal normal hair and skin, albeit a bit disheveled. “…I thought I was the only one.”

…

The sun is setting and the crickets are out singing as the cool breeze flows through the pine trees. Finn blows on the baby sized camp fire, kindling with twigs and dry grass before Fern came back with some logs and sticks to help it grow. Meanwhile you sit back and watch the boys work as you clean out a rabbit for dinner, tossing the guts and other inedible far from the camp. “My parents never told me I was adopted, I guess it makes sense after all this time since I couldn’t hunt like they did nor grow a winter coat.” You lament. “How was growing up for you like Finn the human?” you offer the young man the rabbit meat, ready for cooking.

“Just call me Finn,” he accepts the meat, impaling it before setting it over the fire. “It was normal I guess? Well, as normal as it can be when your parents are paranormal investigators and your siblings grow up faster than you.” The boy shrugs. You turn to look at the green boy near him, trying to get as much distance between him and the fire, for obvious reasons. “What about you? Are you also human?”

“Technically yes, but also no. It’s a long story,” Fern nonchalantly waves his hand in the air. “By the way the name’s Fern and uh… sorry for almost asphyxiating you earlier.”

“I forgive you. Can’t say I’m used to it though, my foes are usually wild animals like wolves.” A hand went to your neck, rubbing the bruise that looked like a rope burn. “At least now I understand why no one in my pack was ever attracted to me.” You add with a laugh, scooting closer to the campfire as you smell the morsel cooking.

“Really?” Finn looks surprised. “Cause I think you’re attractive.”

Unsure how to respond to the compliment, you just stay quiet. At the lack of a verbal response Finn mentally kicked himself since he thought he screwed up, if only he could see the smile spreading through your lips. “…You’re not so bad yourself.” You mutter under your breath.

The rest of the evening is spent in silence as you and Finn eat the cooked rabbit, Fern on the other hand just absorbed the last few sunrays of the day and kept himself hydrated as he watched you two share quick glances. Once the moon is high and the fire is reduced to a pile of burning ambers the three of you are already sound asleep, Fern coiled in on himself, you with your moss bedding and Finn nicely secure in his sleeping bag. The young man is probably dreaming about spaghetti before he hears something scuttle around him. “Huh?” Finn adjusts his eyes to the darkness, feeling a warm pressure on top of his body, his mouth opens slightly in a surprised gasp but no noise exits.

“Shh, wouldn’t want to interrupt Fern’s sleep.” You raise an index finger to your lips like a librarian.

Though it was becoming harder for Finn to keep any noises to himself upon realizing you ditched your cloak, looks like the concept of underwear is foreign to you. “You think I’m attractive right?” you ask, Finn only responds with a nod and a whimper. “Well, I think you’re attractive too. I don’t know about you but I’ve gone too many springs without a mate upon reaching maturity, and you look just about my age. So what do you say?”

Finn nods eagerly, smacking his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. The gesture is unknown to you at first but you’re quick to learn. Finn peels open his sleeping bag for you to slip in, your bare flesh rubbing against the clothes he keeps on as sleepwear. Hot, that’s the best way you can describe how you’re feeling right now. Your body is burning against Finn’s like a rock left out in the sun, wherever you run your hands through feels just as warm as you leave a trail, his chest, his lips, even his own touch on you feels pleasantly warm. But nothing feels quite as scorching hot as the bulge in his trousers, not enough to burn you but definitely enough to feel it radiating through the cloth. You grip him tentatively, hearing him bite back a splendid noise. If your mouth was open it would’ve been drooling by now, wanting nothing more than to hear the noises he would make if you directly touched him.

“Tsk, tsk, you’re rushing it so soon bro?” Fern nonchalantly chastises his human counterpart, laying sideways with a single arm propped against his head. “She hasn’t seen another human guy and this is the first impression you give. Sheesh, the disappointment.” hes taunting now.

Finn feels his face flush in embarrassment but doesn’t really make any attempt to stop. “Oh and what do you suggest?” he challenges.

“What I suggest, is giving our five star guest a five star experience. You know what Jake is always telling us when we fight over the gaming controller?”

“That sharing is caring,” Finn recalls, directing his attention to you. “I’ll let her decide. Hey um, If you want we could… What he’s trying to say is that, would you like to… Ya know, have the both of us?” Finn points his thumb back and forth to himself and Fern respectively. You tilt your head sideways, not exactly the vocal response Fern is looking for. “Does this convince you?” Fern shifts his grass skin to reveal pigment completely identical to Finn’s skin, hair and everything.

You don’t know what’s going on between the two, but all you know is that there’s an aching between your legs that’s been needing relief for 3 years. “Yes!” you nod enthusiastically, the drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. “I want both of you.” Is all the confirmation they need.

The top portion of your body is supported by Fern’s torso with one of your arms tossed over his shoulders, relaxing in his hold, he uses his hands to massage the soft mounds on your chest while he keeps his mouth busy by nibbling your ear. Meanwhile, the lower portion of your body is held up by Finn, with the back of your knees resting on either side of his shoulders as the human boy is comfortably positioned between your thighs, enjoying your dripping sex like an all you can eat buffet, pleasing you with sloppy open mouth kisses wherever he can reach.

“I’m st-starting to feel it-“ you shut your eyes tight, whining as you unconsciously remove your hips from Finn’s hold, “No, not yet. Please, please I want… I want to feel you inside me.” You beg, clawing your hands into the soft dirt as you refuse to reach your high just yet.

“You heard the woman Finn, give her what she wants.” Fern states holding your chin in a way you can meet Fern’s eyes. “Meanwhile, I’m going to need you to do something for me.” The grass like human boy grabs your free hand and guides it to his own prodding member, wrapping your hand around it as he instructs you how he likes being touched. Finn is almost distracted by the display, forgetting the translucent string of saliva connecting Finn’s mouth to your intimates before snapping out of it. The human sits up to lower his boxers just enough to free his own cock, average length, peachy just like him but with a pink tip begging to find its match. “Just like that~” Fern whispers in your ear as you get used to the rhythm he like, stealing a smooch from you while Finn slowly pushes himself past the layers of your needy entry. “GAAh” your kiss in interrupted by the rippling pleasure crawling up your body in miniature shivers, gripping Fern with a bit more force that has him gasping and groaning.

“Feels good?”

“Yes. Yes oh glob! I feel so.. So full…” you barely managed to process. “Fuller th-than my fingers could ever…” there’s tears pickling at the corners of your eyes now as you’re moving your hips to stuff more of Finn’s warmth inside your aching body. Fern ushers your hand faster as Finn picks up the speed, his skin lewdly smacking against yours as you feel your leftover juices overflow between your butt cheeks, during your haze you fail to match Finn’s rhythm but it’s alright since he steady himself with his hands firmly grabbing on your hips.

“That’s it baby, I’m so close~” Fern says behind you, his carnal eyes gaining a yellow glow with reptile slits, enjoying the sight of his counterpart railing you into oblivion.

Judging by your expression and lack of coherent vocabulary, he can tell you’re just around the corner. “Glob, I’m gonna-“ Finn savors the delicious sensation of your inner muscles massaging him, already feeling his sensitivity go overboard but resisting the urge to let go. Finn rubs his thumb against your clit, tightening the muscles around your abdomen as you feel like you’re going to pee. “Finn, Finn, FINN!” your extremities start twitching uncontrollably as your climax erupts through your body, gasping, groaning and whining all together in the most erotic sounds both of them have ever heard. The obscene noises are enough to push Fern into his own orgasm, growling deeply as he leans forward and let’s his relief dribble down your hand still wrapped around him. Finn on the other hand, despite how heavenly your throbbing pussycat vibrates onto his dick, he removes himself from your insides and rubs one out all over your stomach as he calls out your name. Not that you mind.

The human boy leans back as he gasps for air, you don’t struggle much since you still have Fern for support.

“You were right,” you breath out with a tired but satisfied smile. “Sharing is caring.”

[dalekofchaos]

If you could've had your way with TWDG season 2 with Christa and Omid's baby and the 400 days gang, how do you think it could've gone?

First. Clem never finds Christa and Omid.

The beginning of season 2 would be about Clem finding Christa and Omid.

Christa is still pregnant and Christa is under the care of the 400 Days crew, everyone but Bonnie left Carver and are on the run. They are all suspicious of Clem when she arrives at their cabin, but when Christa tells them who she is, they let Clem go to Christa.

We'd find out Omid and Christa got separated when they were looking for Clem. More on that later.

Vince takes the role of Luke/Carlos in the game. Russell and Becca are wary around Clem but come around, Wyatt is the chill older brother and Shel is the mom friend. Kenny of course returns and when Kenny sees both Clem and Christa, there is a big reunion of them together.

Episode 2, instead of meeting Carver, we meet Troy(as was teased) same situation but he says “my boss needs me to find them”

When we get to the ski lodge, instead of meeting Kenny, we would meet Omid. Happy reunion between Clem, Omid and Christa

Kenny would take the role of Carver. Now before ya’ll come at me with pitchforks and torches, Kenny was supposedly planned to be the antagonist character for the second season. Gavin Hammon revealed this during his OMG!Con 2015 Q&A Panel alongside Melissa Hutchinson. He said that Kenny was supposed to be the leader of the community Luke and the cabin survivors fled from, so Kenny would be in the Carver role. I think it could’ve worked. Losing his family, losing Lee and nearly dying to save Ben or Christa could’ve pushed him over the edge.

Episode 3, you are tempted in choosing between your new friends or our old friend Kenny. But Clem realizes the Kenny she knew is long gone

Kenny blames Clem for everything. In Kenny’s POV, if Clem didn’t listen to The Stranger, Lee wouldn’t have gotten bitten, he wouldn’t have had to risk his life to try to save an already dying Ben or save Christa and they wouldn’t have lost the boat, they all would’ve gotten away. But due to Clem’s foolish childish desire to see her parents, everything fell apart. Again, this is Kenny’s perspective in this version

When the walkie-talkie plan goes down south, Vince is caught and as Clem prepares to turn herself in, Omid takes the blame is the one who is beat to a pulp

Seeing as Kenny has no attachment like Carver had for Rebecca, he does not catch them in the act(you’ll see why later) they are able to free themselves. Troy still gets shot in the dick but this time, it's Clem who shoots him.

In place of Carlos, Shel is the one who gets shot and eaten. Becca runs

Episode 4. They all make it to the meet up spot. The deal to get ready for the baby happens as planned. Clem and Russell find Shel and Wyatt. While Becca was not sheltered like Sarah, she finds apart of herself died with Shel, but Clem is able to get her to snap out. I like to think Clem, Becca and Russell would begin to have a close friendship rather than Clem and Jane. Before giving birth, Clem and Christa are picking out names and Clem suggests "Lee Jr" both Christa and Omid like that. In place of Arvo, it’s Eddie. Christa gives birth, but she dies. Before dying, Christa tells Clem to promise that she will take care of LJ no matter what, Clem promises. Near the end Eddie would bring back survivors from Kenny’s camp. Kenny has them surrounded. Bonnie tries to talk Kenny out of this and telling him they can all work together to survive. Kenny looks like he’s come to his senses, but raises the gun and shoots Bonnie. Episode 5. Kenny is hunting everyone down. He wants to kill Clem and Omid and take the baby for himself. The last survivors are Clem, LJ, Becca and Russell. Omid sacrifices himself to save Clem. Clem shoots Kenny and for a brief moment, the old Kenny resurfaces and realizes the horrible things he’s done and apologizes. We would have a choice to forgive him, say Kenny will see Duck and Katja or to condemn Kenny

TNF and The Final season. Ideally I would just mix both seasons together. It would just be Clem, Russell and Becca protecting LJ in Wellington and LJ coming into his own. Lilly returns as the villain to attack and raid Wellington and we have to protect our home. We can choose between Russell or Becca to romance. I would honestly have us go to The Delta and face the leader. The only person who makes sense to be the leader for The Delta is Nate from 400 Days. Nate will try to kill our love interest and Clem kills Nate. The Delta falls apart and after freeing Wellington's people and our friends, we escape. Lilly takes Minnie's place. Clem gets bit and LJ chops her foot off. Clem shares a tender moment with her love interest and a cutsey moment with LJ and end with Chloe looking at peace.

That way we have a season that actually gives us answers about Christa, Omid isn't killed instantly, we take care of Omid and Christa's baby instead of AJ and does something for Vince, Wyatt, Shel, Becca and Russell instead of minor cameos and never doing anything for them again. While it's sad that this version doesn't have Javi, Kate, Gabe or the Ericson school. I think it's more important to have the final season be about Clem and co living in Wellington and defending their new home.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

IFJAJHWJJF OKAY ONAY ONAY HI I JUST SAW YOUR POSTS PLESE WRITE YANDERE ORC STUFF NO ONE DOES FHANKZKA IM SO EXCITED

Hello my fellow orc loving anon, I hope you enjoy the food, Smutty second course will be on it's way (at some stage). Also since you let me choose I had to pick Risotto.

Of monsters and men

(yandere orc Risotto x female reader)

For generations your family had established peace between your village and the clan of monsters that ruled the land. In exchange for part of your village's crops they would spare you all from rampage.

Everything seemed like a nightmare as you saw the same clan betray centuries of trust. Houses were on fire, men were mutilated and women were forced upon. It all made you sick to the stomach to watch as you ran in the scanty outfit you had to wear. Today was meant to be the day where the village and clan would indulge in festivities, yet it was all chaos instead.

Tears threatened to spill as your dreams of following in your family's steps broke like porcelain. You looked to your side as you heard the wails and screams of young children being forced into a cage like vermin by two ogres. You stood by and watched. Part of your mind telling you to keep running but the other half wanted to save the poor children.

You sighed as you ran towards them and grabbed a nearby pitchfork and hit one of them with the hilt, knocking them out for sure before hitting the other.

"You have to get out of here kids!" You ordered them.

'but I can't find my parents" one of the young girls cried. A frown formed on your lips, you felt so bad for them.

"I know, but you can't stay… your parents would want you to be safe" you explained as you kneeled down and scruffed up her silken hair, trying your best not to cry.

"Do it for your family's sake" you continued.

"Will you come with us lady (Y/n)?" Another asked.

"I can't… as a member of the noble family I have to try and figure out a way to fix this" you explained. You had hoped that maybe your father was already talking to the clan leader, coming up with a solution to the issue.

You helped guide all the children to the edge of the village with the pitchfork you had used to knock out the ogres firmly in your hand before something delivered a low sweep. You fell to the ground and watched them all scream and scatter into the dark forest as something pulled you back.

You were yanked up by the arm and forced to confront your captor as their long forked tongue slid up your neck, leaving a trail of saliva and venom that burned your skin like acid.

"You're a rather feisty lady" a seductive tone hissed as a scaly tail that glimmered like obsidian wrapped around your lower body. Stray locks of lavender coloured hair came into view as the male leaned into you.

"You smell so fertile… I expected nothing less of a noble" he chuckled before turning you around so you could finally see him. A tall Naga with an asymmetric bob, bearing his long fangs.

Your blood froze as you realised the gravity of your current situation. Your heart pounded inside of your chest, threatening to explode any minute.

"What… whatever you intend to do with me… please make it quick" you plead though your shaky breath as you squeeze your eyes shut.

The Naga reacted with a cruel laugh as he watched you squirm in his tails tight grip. Almost prideful of the fear he was inducing.

"Oh I don't intend to do anything with you, but I can't say the same about our ruler" he chuckled.

Your eyes lit up a little, you could try to negotiate with him to leave the village and return to prior times. Yet your stomach also twisted in fear, you had no idea who the ruler of the monster clan was. No human dared to speak of him, not even your father.

"Please take me to him, maybe we could come to some agreement!" You please.

The lavender Naga laughed before leaning in towards your face. His long, forked tongue feathering over your cheek.

"The perfume of fear is intoxicating, Lord Nero could smell it from a mile away" his comments made the hairs on your neck stand.

"But if you are so insistent, then I can only let you try" he continued, his words dripping in sweet venom.

"Yes I do want to go!" You almost yelled.

"Oh so eager, I can't refuse to that" he chuckled as his form wrapped around you more before tightening his grip on you till you couldn't breath. His long body slivered over ground with ease as he deprived you of oxygen. You coughed and weezed as your vision impaired. Your neck hung loosely like an old doll as your limbs starved. Shortly darkness fades in and out of your vision as you struggle to stay conscious.

You closed your eyes and when they opened once more you were in your house. It had been trashed beyond belief, like someone had been searching for something.

Finally the Naga let you go and let you drop to the floor. You took a few deep breaths as you got to your hands and knees. You knew something was hovering above you but you couldn't bring yourself to look up at whoever it was.

"Melone, you can leave now" a deep voice ordered. The Nagas named Melone slivered back before leaving you with whoever the voice belonged to.

"(Y/n)" the male said your name, a sweet and soothing tone on the edge of the previously gravely tone.

"How do you know my name?" You finally asked as you looked. Your blood went cold as you finally saw the large pale orc in front of you. You swallowed your saliva as you studied the intimidating monster's features.

Short hair as white as fresh snow, ruby eyes amongst jet black sclera and a single tusk protruding from his lower jaw. He was extremely tall, even for an orc, his chest broad and exposed with a black leather straps decorated with various jewels. To put it simply, he was an orc of a high class and ruling over a clan of various monsters further proved his status as a ruler.

"I saw a few photographs of you over the years. However your father never spoke of you, so I had to find out more about you myself" he explained. You remained quiet towards the creature.

"Quiet are we? I thought you would have tried to say a few words at least after attacking two members of my army" He muttered before kneeling down.

"I came here to make a deal with you, in exchange I want you to stop this attack" you responded.

"Well I doubt your father is going to repay his debts" he said before pulling you up.

"What are you talking about? We had our taxes raised numerous times because of your demands!" You hissed as you pulled your arm out of his grasp.

The orc gave you a stern look before his features softened.

"Well I was told that there was little money amongst the town, I was kind enough to ask him for alternative payments" he explained.

"He's been paying me almost nothing for the past two years" he continued.

You looked at the orc, trying to figure out if he was lying or not but deep in your heart you could tell he wasn't trying to trick you, he had no reason to.

"Perhaps we can end this conflict now and I can repay you the debt" you suggested.

"I'm not going to just let this brush off so easily, I want a payment now!" he responded with slight anger in his tone.

"I'm sure I can talk this out with my father-" you were saying however the albino orc quickly interjected.

"Do you not realise that your father had abandoned this town" he mentioned.

"No he wouldn't, I don't believe it!" you argued.

"Well read these for yourself" he replied as he grabbed several notes from one of the pockets of his striped pants.

"I found these in your father's quarters" he explained as he handed them to you.

You read only one of them before you dropped them all on the floor. I was undoubtedly your father's hand writing, such a scandalous conversation between him and a woman who was obviously taking him for his money. You were in absolute shock, he had left you all to die.

"Surely I can offer some form of payment here, give me a chance" you begged.

"I doubt it, I've looked everywhere and there is nothing" he replied.

“However if you really want to save this town so badly, I think I could reach an agreement.” he mentioned trying to hide the lust in his eyes.

“State your terms” you stated.

“Eager” he responded.

“Well… I will stop this attack and our clan will leave your village in peace but I have one requirement, I want you” he explained before grabbing your hip.

[minisoysquares]

As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun

(This ask and answer is about this post.)

First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.

I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.

I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.

All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.

In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.

Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.

If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.

Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.

Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:

Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')

It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!

If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.

Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.

We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.

Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!

Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.

So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)

Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!

There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.

If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!

Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.

It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.

It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.

Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!

This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!

Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.

[kate-river]

Proud to present you “Toussaint’s Finest” - my witcher fic written for the Eskel Big Bang, featuring incredible art from the wonderful @justhereforeskel Enjoy! ;)

Relationship: Eskel/Geralt

Rating: M

Word Count: 9K

Summary:

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever.

Read the first chapter below and or the completed fic on AO3.

Check out @justhereforeskel‘s artwork!

Eskel knelt down beside the riverbank. The gravel scrunched under his boots and for a second, his cat-like eyes flashed in the sun. He sighed when he reached into the water and watched as the stream carried away a tiny trail of blood.

The wind rustled in the nearby trees and the witcher, still rubbing his hands clean, turned his gaze southeast. In the distance shimmered the familiar vineyards of the Sansretour valley and the sight of their natural beauty stirred something in his heart.

Behind him though, the monstrous cadaver of a bear lay on the blood-soaked ground. The beast had a ferocious wound on its shoulder and the once so powerful creature seemed shrunken now that its body was lifeless. The most apparent feature of the corpse however, was its missing head. The very same that dangled from Scorpion’s saddle.

When Eskel got up, he was disgusted and sick at the sight. As a witcher he was supposed to kill beasts. But a bear? It had just been another curiosity that had suffered from coming too close to a village.

Eskel sighed as he mounted Scorpion. He strongly felt the need to leave this place; to move on. To get away from a task that he had only been compelled to accept in order not to arrive at Corvo Bianco empty handed.

As Scorpion fell into a powerful gallop, Eskel relaxed into the movement and his thoughts wandered off. A sensation of freedom pulsated through his veins and for a moment his doubts vanished.

 A few hours earlier…

 “Hey Master witcher, over here!”

A young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin waved in Eskel’s direction. His eyes were blown wide and his straightforwardness suggested an urgent matter. Eskel reigned in Scorpion, left the dusty path and took a halt next to the man.

“Master witcher, an evil spirit is roaming the woods.! Two days ago, one of our men was killed – I beg your help! We’re poor country folk, but we will pay!”

You better do, Eskel thought to himself. Although empty, his purse weighed heavy on his conscience. Arriving at Corvo Bianco without money would embarrassing – tolerable still - but heading for a winter at Kaer Morhen penniless would even be dangerous.

Eskel immediately recognized the hostile reactions when they entered a small woodworker’s settlement. Children were hushed and hastily dragged into their homes by their parents. Doors were hurriedly shut and if Eskel would have wanted to see, he would have noticed the people starring and pointing at him behind drawn curtains.

But he had no other choice. For weeks there weren’t any good contracts and a mysterious monster in the woods sounded like something profitable for once.

The young man led Eskel to the biggest hut of the settlement and a sturdy, yet bald man standing underneath the nearby oak tree suddenly stopped his wood carvings. Eskel noticed that the man’s left hand was missing a finger and his expression was anything but welcoming. He gave the younger man a sharp look and then turned to Eskel.

“Master witcher, how can I be of service?”, with a feigned smile he added, “I’m afraid but… we can’t offer children.”

Eskel, already used to this kind of reaction, sighed and looked him straight in the eye, making a dirty brown iris meet his shiny amber one.

“I was told there was a contract.”, he stated slowly, distinctly.

“I fear there must have been a mistake.”

Suddenly the door behind the man opened and a dangerously beautiful mage entered the place. She was dressed in luxurious fabrics and her long black hair nearly reached her waist. The two men bowed before her. But Eskel, weary of the hostile welcome, denied the courtesy.

“What do we have here?” she mockingly asked. “A mutant –created by the most senseless representatives of my guild. You’re a rarity these days, witcher.”

“With all due respect, your guild indeed comprises some senseless individuals, sorceress.”

“Witcher, you have a wicked tongue too. What a pleasure!”

She smiled slyly and gestured him to follow into the hut. He did, but with sharpened senses. Surprisingly the mage, as rude as she had appeared, was straight forward about the monster – beast to be more accurate - and sincerely promised Eskel a reasonable reward.

 But when Eskel returned to the woodworker’s settlement with his trophy his doubts returned as well. The village seemed abandoned. Nobody tried to hide and nobody pointed at him. Alarmed he scanned the few huts and carefully pushed Scorpion to move on. Something was wrong and he wasn’t eager to find out what or why.

At a twitch of his medallion Eskel tensed up. The vibration grew stronger while he neared the main hut, but as he was close enough, the sickness he had already felt once today returned. From the old oak tree hang the lifeless body of a young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin.

Anger welled up in the witcher’s chest. He tied Scorpion to the old tree and suppressed the need to let out a furious roar. Eskel soundlessly drew his sword – the steal one, as it befitted the monsters he was going to fight. But before he could come any closer, the door of the hut opened. The mage shielded by the poorly armed woodworkers emerged.

She gestured the men to let her through, but the moment she left their shielding ring Eskel’s blade touched her throat.

“One step closer and you’ll be next. What happened to him?”, he barked.

The mage laughed hysterically and answered “Sawyer? He brought a mutant to our village, the poor lad. In these parts people get killed for less.”

At this exact moment, she tried to conjure up a portal, but Eskel was faster. He stunned her hand and instead of a portal a wobbly structure appeared behind him. She screamed angrily and used the few seconds to pull a simple dagger from her boots. In the meantime, her ever so brave protectors advanced, coming for Eskel with raised axes and pitchforks. The witcher growled and parried the blows easily, but the distraction was enough. The mage leapt at him, missing his throat by the fraction of an inch. Eskel roared and suddenly he couldn’t contain his anger. He was a monster? A mutant? Well, then they should have their mutant!

Taking his left hand from the grip of his sword Eskel felt the tingle of magic flow through his hand. His powerful Igni struck the line of woodworkers and chaos broke loose. They screamed trying to shield their burned faces, dropping their weapons in order to stifle the fire on their cloths. The fire caught hold of the hut too and the less wounded men tried to keep it under control.

Meanwhile the mage had prepared to conjure up another portal. But Eskel wouldn’t let her go through with it. With a swift movement he left behind the inexperienced fighters and blocked the mage’s way.

“Go to hell, witcher!”, she gasped out as Eskel launched into an attack. But before his sword could come close to her again the bald man with the missing finger threw himself between them raising a rusty pitchfork. But the witcher’s sword pierced his lung and his last words drowned in a pained gurgling.

Hysterically laughing the mage cried out “A monster slayer! Look around you witcher –are these men monsters to you?”

“Why did you hang the boy?” he panted. He knew he wouldn’t have long until the shock of killing innocent people would settle in. He had to finish this quickly.

The mage’s insane laughter didn’t help. She managed to open the portal and just before she slipped away a precise blow separated her torso from her lower body.

In his rage Eskel turned around and roared. He grabbed the pitchfork of the dying man and went over to the old oak tree. He rammed the pitchfork into the earth just below the hanged man’s corpse. 

Scorpion whinnied and Eskel, still half in fight mode, took down the bear’s head from his horse’s saddle.

Wordlessly he impaled it on the pitchfork – leaving an unmistakable sign.

[justkeeptrekkin]

Prompt: Crowely tells Az he loves him by accident while going on a big long rant about (dealers choice) Az catches right away and just smiles and waits as Crowely comes to the realization of what he said

Anon. Anon. I love you for this. 

***

“See, thing is-”

Crowley’s words elude him- as they have a habit of doing, the sneaky buggers. He watches the white lines in the middle of the road streak by, feels the tarmac roaring beneath the car. It’s a rainy evening and they’re driving home from a restaurant north of Watford that Aziraphale has been banging on about for months. Since the world had ended- and then promptly not ended- the angel’s zest for food hasn’t lessened in the slightest. In fact, it’s only gotten bloody zestier, as if their near-apocalypse experience has made Aziraphale realise that life is too short. Even an immortal life such as his. 

Crowley loses his track of his thought entirely. “Thing is…”

“You were talking about-”

“KINDLES!” Crowley exclaims, taking his hands off the wheel to celebrate this eureka moment. Aziraphale straightens out beside him nervously and grabs a fistful of his corduroy trousers. Crowley slaps the leather of the steering wheel enthusiastically as he continues, “Kindles. Are not. Demonic! We didn’t come up with them- that was all you, I’m certain!”

“Why on earth would I invent the Kindle, dear boy? Do you even know me at all?”

“You-plural, not you-singular. Angels you, Heaven you.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t sanction it.”

“Alright but- listen- what’s the problem with kindles? Why’re- what’s the problem? I mean really, it’s a book, isn’t it. Just a book on a screen. What’s the problem?”

“The problem-” Aziraphale begins confidently, bordering aggressively. Then the wind appears to be knocked out of his sails. “Well,” he tries again, a little weakly. “The problem, the problem lies therein. In that. Well-”

“See! See, it’s clearly a good thing, I don’t understand what all the fuss is about- all these people going ‘oh, ho-ho, oh dear, books aren’t physical anymore, what a travesty! Let’s all- grab our pitchforks! And lament the loss of our children’s education’.” He adds a mocking, whinging voice to this last bit. 

Aziraphale tuts, stretches his legs out in front and crosses them. 

“No, you’re wildly misinterpreting the argument, Crowley.”

“You know it’s true, don’t deny it! People are only against them because humans don’t like change- they get all squirmy and anxious about it. As if, you know, as if the transition from a physical book to a little screen is the end of the world- and! Now that they’ve actually had a taste of the apocalypse, they really haven’t gained any more perspective, have they? I mean, you’d think they’d start worrying about global warming properly, but instead they’re just sad about kindles and- oh! That’s another thing, kindles aren’t paper! Less deforestation! Clearly- listen, come on, that’s got to be angelic work.”

Aziraphale pouts and averts his gaze, brows slightly raised in indignance. 

Crowley snorts. He notices the lines of the road streak by a little slower, presses down on the accelerator. 

“Aha!”

Crowley flicks his gaze over to Aziraphale, who’s turned his whole body towards him in his seat eagerly. A smug finger pointed in his face. 

“What? No,” Crowley shakes his head. “You- don’t try and argue with me on this, I’m absolutely certain-”

“Amazon! Kindles are owned by Amazon, notoriously corrupt!”

Crowley scowls, rolls his head wearily. “No, angel, they weren’t always bad, we only got to them a couple of years ago. You can’t argue that-”

“Amazon. Invented. Kindles! Thereby, kindles are evil. The end, full stop. Fin.”

“That’s just- you’ve been around long enough to know that’s not how it works.”

“And you can’t honestly argue that books are bad just because they’re made of paper. Books are knowledge! Books are the weapons against the armies of ignorance! Righteous tools-”

“Righteous tools,” Crowley snorts.

“Against the dark forces of evil!”

“Not this bollocks again. Look, books are fine, books are all well and good, but not everyone’s into them, are they? Times are changing, angel, you can watch things like Netflix or whatever it’s called and, listen to podcasts and- the way people share knowledge is different now. Listen, I love knowledge, love the stuff. You know I do, I was the one who got Eve to eat the apple after all, but even then, even then I’ve never really read books, unless I really have to, the only reason I read Pride and Prejudice is because I love you, and admittedly, yes, it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever put myself through- actually, I think trying to read A Tale of Two Cities was what really did it for me, Charles Dickens- Christ alive, did you ever run into Dickens, angel? Miserable sod.”

Crowley drums his fingers against the steering wheel expectantly. The road side lights cast an orange glow in the car- brightening and darkening, brightening and darkening as they drive past one after another. Aziraphale is silent. 

And it’s only then that Crowley realises his mistake. 

It dawns on him the way a glass fills up slowly with water in the washing up bowl and sinks to the bottom. Slowly, then a sinking feeling. And then hitting rock bottom. 

He keeps his eyes on the road. His fingers tight on the steering wheel. 

“You…”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t. Just don’t. Alright?”

“But Crowley-”

“I said don’t.”

Quiet fills the car. There isn’t even the sound of Freddie Mercury to assuage the nauseating pain in his stomach, the feeling of his throat closing like he’s having an allergic reaction. He wants to cry. He wants to cry for the first time in a very, very long time. He blinks away the feeling, and holds himself together with pure will power, just like he held together this car a few weeks back. 

Only, he’s been holding himself together for roughly six thousand years. It’s getting close to too much. His metaphorical knees are buckling. Atlas only wishes he were as resilient as Crowley. 

Aziraphale exhales- a long, shaky breath. Crowley doesn’t turn to look, can’t bear it. 

Besides, he’s known him- loved him long enough that he can see him in his mind’s eye easily. Eyes sometimes dreamy, brows sometimes pulled together in concern. Lips sometimes twisted in disapproval, sometimes beaming with so much unreserved joy that Crowley has to tease him. Just so he doesn’t end up gazing, bathing in the brightness of that smile. 

And then Aziraphale huffs to himself- a determined little noise that sets Crowley on edge. And he’s already too close to the edge to handle. He’s only just got a hold of himself as it is, hands shaking on the wheels and knee bouncing. The threat of tears still there, threatening to make him choke on his breath- it gets stuck in his throat. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says. So gently. 

That’s almost what does it- it’s almost what makes Crowley lose control, teeth grinding painfully and eyes stinging. The motorway stretching out in front of them, empty. Time stretching out even further. 

Then the angel speaks again. “You can go faster, Crowley.”

The words trickle through his brain slowly, like drops of water building at the rim of a tap. Then- drip. Understanding. Crowley’s throat clicks as he swallows, painfully. 

“That is- of course, only if you want to,” Aziraphale rushes, waves his hands desperately, “You can- drive- go- uh, you can go as slowly as you like, only, don’t feel obliged to go slowly on my account. Anymore.”

The angel clears his throat. And Crowley turns to look. 

He’s smiling. He looks absolutely bloody terrified, eyes a little wide and watery just like that day-

You go too fast for me, Crowley. 

-except now he’s smiling. A quiet, wobbly smile to himself as he stares out of the rain streaked window. Crowley watches the way the orange street light passes through his silver hair, making it appear more like brass. He watches him bite his lip, then continue.

“We could. Oh, I don’t know. We could do that picnic we talked about. Or, perhaps a walk through Wimbledon Common. Together. Or.” He pauses. “Or, if you wanted to, you could drop me off and come in for a night cap. I have some rather nice port hiding somewhere in my office.”

Aziraphale turns to meet his eyes. A look filled with welcome and kindness and understanding. Light catching his face like a Vermeer painting. And Crowley lets himself stare. 

“Eyes on the road, my dear.”

He only realises that his mouth is hanging open when he tries to forumlate his next words. He shuts it, then says, “What?”

“Eyes on the road, Crowley. Before we both get discorporated.”

It takes another moment to register. But then his head snaps forwards and he looks ahead again, the road continuing into the dark towards London. He can feel all the air rush out of him like a balloon. And then something else replaces it- something lighter than air, something that makes his mind feel like it’s drifting to another plane. Something weightless. 

“Picnic,” Crowley eventually says, nodding to himself. He scratches his chin nervously. “Picnic then walk. Or, walk then picnic.”

Because- and Crowley can’t quite believe himself for this- he thinks a night cap might be a bit too fast for him. 

“Lovely,” Aziraphale says. The word comes out in a whisper. “You can pick me up at midday tomorrow. If that’s-”

“That’s.” Crowley stalls. Nods his head compulsively like a nodding car-toy. “That’s. Yeah. Midday’s good. Midday it is.”

“Crowley?”

“Angel,” he replies seriously, business-like.

There’s a moment of hesitation. Aziraphale breathes deeply beside him, like a man stepping off the train from London to Cornwall, taking in the countryside air for the first time in years. 

“I do love you. An awful lot.”

Crowley continues to nod. But he can feel the facade slip. He can sense his bottom lip wobble, so he clamps his jaw tight shut. To no avail. He continues to drive them down the M25, although at this point he could be in St James’ Park, or in the middle of a desert, or on another planet- his mind is entirely elsewhere. 

It’s not a conscious decision to stretch out his hand over the gear stick towards Aziraphale. It’s something desperate in him, something needy and disbelieving. He feels Aziraphale take it without pause, his clasp warm in his own.

[nigaki]

But in all seriousness, I can understand people seeing this ship as incestous. Found family is still a family, brothers not related by blood are still brothers. That’s said, I respect people who don’t ship it because of those reasons.

But because John and Arthur aren’t related in any way, they just got picked up by gay outlaws at one point and raised by them(with around ten years between both of those cases happpening so they weren’t even raised as brothers because they were raised in different time), I’m not obligated to see them as brothers. Nothing in canon even says they treat each other like brothers(correct me if I’m wrong). They’re friends, that’s for sure, no one is denying that, Dutch calls them his sons, they're clearly his favorites but that only shows that he’s most attached to them because they stayed by his side the longest.

“But they call each other brothers!“ True, and they do it like... twice, both near the end.

During attack on oil fields:

“Good to see you, Arthur!“

“You too, brother!“

And of course that cursed scene of their final goodbye.

“You’re my brother.“

Does that make them brothers? It sure can! But considering how often all the characters in the game call each other brothers, it can easily be seen as brothers in arms or just a form of endearment between men. If it weren’t then shipping Hosea and Dutch would be awkward too since I’m sure they called each other brothers too. Micah called him and Arthur brothers as well. Hell, Dutch himself called Arthur his brother, along with Arthur being his son(which is already silly in a way to treat them like a father and a son since Dutch is just a couple of years older than Arthur. Looks like shipping these two is okay too, folks!). So it shows that the term ‘brother‘ can be platonic. One way or another, both interpretations are valid.

“But they have a typical sibling dynamic!“

So do Arthur and Lenny. Or Arthur and Sean. Just because Arthur teases John doesn’t mean it’s only in a brotherly way. Arthur is just a dick like that sometimes, to everyone. He knows John the longest and probably teased him for as long so of course John is tired of this shit like a little brother would and reacts accordingly with angry raccoon noises.

I won’t even bring up the argument about the ship being pedophilic because it’s just ridiculous.

Or you know what, I will. Every time there is a ship when one character is much older than the other instead of a similar age, I see more warnings like “Friendly reminder to not ship character A and character B in this part of the timeline because character B is literally a baby!“ than people actually shippping hardcore underage. I read most of the Morston fics on ao3 and if any has underage(Including mine. Yes, I wrote underage Morston, you can grab your pitchforks) nothing sexual usually happens, it’s just said that John has a crush and may think sexually about Arthur already. But actuall sex? Rare occurrence.

Trust me, most Morston shippers ship them as adults, they don’t throw 12 years old John at adult Arthur and tell them to have sex. I think the youngest John ever is in fics when they fuck is 16. Including mine.

So the ship where most fics happens when they’re both consenting adults isn’t pedophilic. Like, what else can I tell you? People growing up together can fall in love. Especially when they’re 12 and 22 when they’ve met, because then that fancy switch in our brain that usually stops us from falling in love with people we grew up with can be turned off that late in life. Arthur was enough of a stranger to John that them falling in love despite Dutch treating them like his sons isn’t that strange.  

If for some reason Morston gives you bad vibes or creeps, that’s fine. But for the love of god, leave Morston shippers alone. It’s just a fictional ship, people, no one gets hurt by it. Stop being the shipping police, I can ship the most fucked up thing imaginable and it’s still none of your business and it doesn’t give you the right to call me names because of that if I don’t hurt anyone.

I probably wrote it all for nothing since I’m going to tag it as Morston and the name of the ship showing up in the post will make it blocked for people that has it blacklisted, and those people who call Morston shippers sick or something probably won’t care anyway, but I needed to write this.

[nemodeutopia]

This is basically a 1000-word essay, so I’ll put this up here, but do encourage you to read, especially if we disagree and someone sent this to you in a desperate gamble to make you understand.

TLDWR: capitalism does all the ooga-booga that people say socialism does anyway, and the failings are all exactly the same and happens regardless of what economic system you use. Call it what you want, but make living independently actually possible, and the village people will be much less likely to come at you with our fucking pitchforks you idiots.

The reason I believe minimum wage is insufficient and the rich would be fine if they were more heavily taxed:

A lot of these numbers have been simplified to make it easier to follow, but other than the hypothetical 10% tax, they are all roughly accurate to what I could find researching.

If my tax rate is 10% and I make $300 dollars a week, then that leaves me with $270 a week. Take out for groceries at an average of $50 I have $220. Assuming that I don’t have any prescriptions, or rent, or cable, or gas, or utilities, or really anything else considered mandatory for adulting, then that’s not bad, right? But, most people do have those other things, so that’s not so good. So, instead, we make cuts here and there, eat less healthy, decide we probably don’t need to go to the doctor for that pain, because maybe it isn’t something serious after all, and if it is serious, we may have to miss work, and then we may get fired.

If the rich have a tax rate of 10% and make 5,000 dollars a week that gives them 4,500. They would pay more a week in taxes then I make in a week. But they would still have plenty of money to live comfortably.

Rounding down on most things here, but average rent for America is ballpark $1000 a month, mortgage rates I found reported around the same. And that is of course assuming that you qualify. Bear in mind that apartments can require that you make, for example, double the cost of living there as a security measure, and banks will turn you down if they believe your income is too low for a loan. Phone $100. Medical I won’t even presume to make an average on because insulin costs more than most gaming consoles. And I highly doubt the richest of executives is buying one of those every month. I also won’t touch cars, as gasoline prices fluctuate and mpg varies. A monthly pass for public transport, if you’re lucky enough that your city has reliable transport, averages at about $60, but closer to $100 isn’t super unusual for big cities.

So, changing that weekly take home of $270 to a monthly of 1,080 and check it against those prices. Assuming that utilities is included, which covers things as basic as trash disposal and plumbing, we are in pristine health and insurance is paid for and half way decent, which is not a given, as well as no student loans since we’re working on federal minimum wage here, we get to keep negative $80. It costs $80 more than you make at federal minimum wage to live for a month as an independent human being.

Reminder, the -$80 average I found does not include: Food, any form of health care, any utilities, clothing, internet or entertainment outside of what comes with your phone plan, transportation outside of public infrastructure, any surprise fees or expenses of any kind.

I am not touching education costs, including the additional cost of public school. I could make a whole post off the cost of public education without the rest of this depression inducing rant.

At above what Obama wanted to define as wealthy you could do that working one week a month and still have money to put back in the economy.

I grant that this was done off (just above) the federal minimum wage, so most people are probably making more money than this, especially if they’ve been in the same job for a while. But I also took the national average costs for most of the expenses. And anyone working for tips can very easily be making about half that. You also may have noticed that I didn’t include grocery in my monthly figure, because while everyone eats, the cost varies widely, and you can get free food if you need it from banks, churches, your job if you’re in that area of the service sector and lucky, etc.

Yes, if you just start printing money and handing it out, inflation is going to ruin life. But, if you redistribute existing wealth instead of letting it amass and be hoarded by a handful of individuals who basically just pass it around among themselves if they do anything, while still collecting more, then instead there would be a still largely constant amount of wealth, but it would be used instead of artificially rarified (now) or drastically devalued (creating new currency and adding it to the pile).  The people who say we can’t just pay people more willy-nilly aren’t wrong unfortunately. And I can certainly understand how someone who has their life style assured struggles (whether through managing to claw up, surviving to the point where it assured by government support paid by with taxes, or some combination) to understand the plight of those who don’t without realizing the climb keeps getting steeper.  Presently, people who are actively doing and creating are inevitably passing the money they earn back up to the people who do not, who pass a fraction of it back. Instead of just increasing the amount of currency, now largely a digital entity, so at least we don’t have to trade our wallets for wagons, we need to ensure circulation and assess distribution.

A lot of people don’t like the “s” word, even people on social security will talk about how socialism would destroy this nation. There are also people who believe minimum wage raising would destroy industries. They don’t think it’s fair that the rich should have to pay more. But, if the rich paid 10 cents on every dollar they brought in, they honestly might not even notice. If a person working minimum wage pays 10 cents on every dollar they make then they probably need to live with other people and pool all their recourses in a communal setting while politicians and the wealthy eat expensive meals, spend extravagantly and don’t suffer in the least, like in *insert current socialist or communist boogeyman state* but with the “average” person being aware people are living like this and not personally seeing it.

MacKenzie Scott has proven that the ultra-wealthy would not suffer from increased taxation by, essentially, cutting out the middle man and almost privatizing socialism, as absurd as that sounds. Dolly Parton is also an individual who proves that obnoxious levels of wealth are still possible while distributing wealth to those who don’t have it, though I don’t know as many of the particulars with her. I do know they both, as well as others I do not know, choose to redistribute their wealth to lower social rungs and are still fabulously wealthy.

[capri-ramblings]

Yikes,I know there's bound to be questions but trust me, chapter 3 will answer most of them. Aha,I'm sorry if this chapter is kinda confusing at first,I'm not good at planning out thoughts or stories systemically,it kinda makes it harder for me to write whenever I try to. But here,the second chapter of Raptured! Thank you for reading! ( ꈍᴗꈍ) ♥️

[ R a p t u r e d ]

Chapter 2: Banter

In the moment Riddle had finished telling his brothers what conspired with their human captive, the first to speak up was Azul.

"They offered what?" His words were a mix of shock and amusement, gaze fixated on Riddle who seemed almost flustered from how red his cheeks were.

The red haired sighed, sending him a narrow eyed glare before crossing his arms.

"The head of their own brother"

"By their own hands?" Kalim asked aloud, his features scrunched up worryingly. "Isn't that bad? Why would anyone want to kill their own brother so suddenly?"

From the chaise across the room,Leona let out a scoff, lips upturned into a smirk.

"What are you? A five year old? If you give a herbivore the chance of freedom,they'd leave their entire fleet open to make sure they survive. Humans aren't so different."

"Indeed" Vil joined in with a smile of his own. "Humans are very fickle things, they live out their life struggling and as a result they stink of repulsion."

"They can barely even stand on their own.." Idia added thoughtfully and as the gazes of his brothers turned to him, the flames on his hair flickered and he looked away.

"Maybe the isolation's got to their head?"

Riddle let out a scoff, his lips upturned in a sneer almost too vicious to be formed on such a delicate looking face.

"The cottage they were in was secluded from the rest of the village,they were already a reclusive. Why should it bother them now?"

"Maybe Idia has a point" Kalim interjected then "Before they were on their own by choice...and they weren't exactly trapped in a tower either"

"It's all the same" Leona snapped " Damn herbivores will always be too fragile."

"Though, our soft-shelled brothers have a sound reason" Vil's lips curled in an effortless smile,his ever sharp gaze glinting like jewels.

"At this rate our small hare is going to die before the homage from her brother, and that makes all of this pointless."

The room went silent then. Each males having their own thoughts wrapped around the situation.

When they came to a decision to face the hunter who killed their family beast, he was nowhere to be seen and left tending to his cottage was none other than their captive human, a young sibling unaware of what their fool brother had committed. They opted it was easier to simply kidnap them and have their brother come looking since neither one of them wanted to wait around. There was also the fact that the death of the beast had affected their Mother's health greatly, and all seven brothers fumed with rage.

"Our methods doesn't matter anymore" Riddle spoke up, "What's done is done. We can't exactly just put them back where we found them."

"I agree" Azul said "Though if the human dies in our care now, when we're fully able to change their situation, I fear the price of that loss would be great."

"What? Are the humans going to chase us around with pitchforks?" Leona sneered,his sharp fangs visible as he leaned back into the chaste. "You saw how further in their cottage was, chances are the herbivore doesn't even go down to the village often enough for people to notice them missing."

"They can't die." Idia drawled the words out this time,his gaze sharp and harsh as he stared down Leona who all but grinned at his brother.

"Why? Because you like them?" The laugh that barked out from Leona was cruel and Idia flinched.

"Go ahead and save the poor herbivore then,Prince Idia of the lands of burrowed moles. You think they'd ever look at you fondly?"

"Enough." Riddle came between the fight with his own ire and before he sent a glare towards Leona, he let Idia catch the solace in his.

The situation was getting worst. They needed a decision quick.

"You're not a five year old as well,Leona, so keep that tongue of yours tamed"

"What are you? Suddenly playing the role of the Eldest when you can't even reach his height?" Leona scrutinized Riddle with an aggression that seemed ready to claw him in the face, but Riddle kept his own spite and promptly choose to ignore his brother.

Instead,he turned to Azul.

"The hunter should've came back and see his sibling gone, you even sent those eels of yours to make sure he got the hints. Why hasn't he made a single move? It's been two months."

"Maybe he's forgetful?" Kalim chipped in, eyes glowing. Riddle wanted to tap the side of his face and gently tell him to shut up but Vil patted his head instead.

"A forgetful hunter managing to kill a wild beast is unlikely, mein bruder"

Azul crossed his arms,gaze narrowing.

"They've sent word that they have information regarding our human and the whereabouts of their brother"

"And?" Vil prompted.

"I told them to come meet us as soon as they can, which shouldn't be long."

The moment those words were uttered, a dull thud came from the would-be-entrance of the tower, and a familiar voice calling out.

"My Princes! Open the door please!" The urgency of the voice had all the present Princes turning their head, though the one who seemed genuinely surprised and concerned was Kalim.

"That voice..." He said, turning to Azul "Is that who I think it is?"

Azul's lips curled into a knowing smile and with a flick of his fingers, the sound of a door being swung opened then slammed shut could be heard within the tower itself,followed by light rapid footsteps approaching them.

Out of breath and desperately panting, a young girl made a hasty bow as she came before the Princes, though the way her legs slightly trembled suggested that she was near collapsing.

"It is her!" Kalim's eyes grew wide with familiarity, the worry in his voice replaced with joy as he came up to place his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"The last time I saw you, you were still learning how to walk!" Kalim's loud voice seemed to make her flinch but the girl met his gaze with warmth before she bowed her head again.

"Pleasure to meet you again,Prince Kalim." She's heard stories of him, the Prince Fae known to give out bits of his treasures to those who come wishing at his well. It seemed odd to act as if she's known him, but she knew better than to put logic before courtesy. He was one of the seven Princes after all. Acting too smart with them was a fool's mistake.

Before Kalim could say anything else, Azul stepped forward and the girl promptly met his side with a suddenly serious demeanor.

"I'd ask you for the information I had you fetch but I wonder why you were running in the first place?"

The girl laughed dryly if not nervously.

"Floyd wanted to see who could win in a race in getting here,your Highness."

Azul frowned, internally sighing.

"Why on Earth did you agree to that?"

Again, the girl laughed. "He terrifies me,my Prince."

Riddle couldn't place where he's met her, but hearing her words had him internally sympathising her. Azul's leeches were a pair he'd gladly avoid for eternity as well.

"So,you got a changeling to be at your beck and call as well,Azul?" Vil sounded amused as he turned to Azul, but the degrading glance he gave the girl bellied the smile coyly sitting on his lips then.

"She's indebted to us anyway" Azul stated simply "Why not put her to work?"

His gaze returned to the girl.

"What do you have about our human then?"

It took a full ten minutes for the young changeling to inform them of what she's managed to compile on their human and hunter. Turns out they aren't related by blood but by marriage. Apparently most of the villagers knew of the hunter but rarely saw the younger sibling as they took more liking in staying indoors. There was also talk that their relationship with one another was never close and answered Riddle's question as to why he hadn't showed up yet.

"So, he's just going to leave his sibling at our mercy?" Kalim asked,he had his expression scrunched up with worry and pity again but Leona shared none of it and only growled with distaste.

"There won't be mercy if they're left with us a second longer"

Riddle caught the flicker of Idia's flames and instantly reacted.

"Threaten to murder our captive one more time and I'll have your head,Leona."

"Hah, you're trying to scare me,Riddle?" Leona sneered,fangs glistening with malice. He's been irritated by the whole situation since the beginning. Taking in a human in hopes that another would appear to save them, it was all a damn fairytale. Leona knew humans were selfish, his brothers should've had that piece of common sense drilled into their heads as well. No one was going to play hero for their captive.

Riddle gritted his teeth and again instead of lashing out senselessly, he swirled around to face the changeling. Every bit of his anger flaring in his grey gaze.

"Where's the hunter now?" He asked,though it sounded painfully like a death threat.

The changeling bowed her head.

"He's at the human King's palace,Prince Riddle. King Aothor ...of Nostorne"

The words sent the entire room tilting, and Riddle would've gripped her by her neck if Azul hadn't stepped forward.

"King? Since when did the humans have a King?" The last time they came to the world,their mother's shrine was built almost everywhere to acknowledge her ruling. Had times changed so drastically since their absence?

"Yes. It's been this way for years now. A dukedom raised after Her Most Divine's departure from the human realm and ever since then a lineage of human nobles have taken the throne as the Human ruler."

"My, how futuristic, and here we were in the guise that we still sat on the top of their world" Vil was laughing but his words cut into the tension of the room like a blade coated in venom and the changeling girl shifted uncomfortably.

"It seems like the order of the slaughtering was made by him and ultimately fulfilled by the hunter. His name is Cyril and he's being celebrated by the King for his bravery."

Leona heaved a heavy sigh,leaning once more into his chaise. He looked ready to fall into a deep slumber already but his irritation kept him awake.

"So,we have information. Now what's the plan?"

***

Jade and Floyd,two of Azul's trusted companions came into the situation while the Princes were sorting out their thoughts and opinions (Which all greatly contradict one another) and brought word that their hunter had refused to save their sibling in a conversation Jade overheard him had with another hunter right before he was called on by the King.

"He said he knew of the Fae's trick and that by taking something of theirs as his own, he'd gladly give anything they took from him as compensation." Jade explained in his usual matter-of-fact tone,his mismatched gaze still and knowing.

Riddle clicked his tongue, brows furrowing. Idia's was the most sympathetic along with Kalim while Leona and Vil seemed ready to send a fleet of their army to storm into the human villages.

"I'm not really surprised though" Floyd spoke up lazily "He seems like a guy who'd do that kind of thing anyways"

"But now the Princes are stuck with keeping a human captive in their care", Boe,the young changeling from earlier, pointed out grimly.

"What if we sent you to negotiate with him in our stead?" Idia suggested which earned a rather hasty look from the girl.

"Human royals don't take too kindly to my kind,Prince Idia. I doubt he'd even let me enter"

Leona let out a menacing growl. One that reverberated through the tower walls.

"This is going nowhere. Riddle, go up to that damn herbivore and have them beg their brother come and pay his homage so we can give them back."

Riddle frowned.

"You heard the changeling,Leona. If their relationship with their brother is as bad as we've heard, do you really think they'd beg for him to come save them?"

"Couldn't you talk some sense in them?" Azul had eyes turning once more to the young changeling who all but reluctantly slumped her shoulders.

"I don't see how me being the one talking will get them to cooperate..."

"Clamshell,you should at least try,right?" Floyd's smile was sickly sweet and when he attempted to sling his arm over her shoulders, she avoided the outcome by shifting close to Jade.

"What would you want me to say to them?"

"The offer they gave" Riddle said "Have them elaborate more on that. I'm not going into a deal without knowing why it was proposed in the first place."

There was hesitation in her eyes but it was swiftly changed to a silent resolve as she nodded her head.

"I'll see what I can do."

[reingkings]

Black Friday (*Spoilers*)

Alright first I want to say this is not hate! I absolutely LOVED Black Friday. However, I did have some things that I felt could have been changed to make the script a little stronger

Things I loved:

The old TGWDLM gang! — we got an update into their lives without it being overly shoved into our faces. It was just there for people who loved the first musical, but knowing about them wasn’t necessary to the understanding of this one

The music! — Feast or Famine, Do You Want to Play?, Adore Me (especially the chorus), Black Friday, If I Fail You, Our Doors Are Open well I can’t name them all.

Oh, and how America is Great Again played in the background when General McNamara appears on screen. I’m a sucker for characters having their own themes songs. Wouldn’t it be amazing if Paul got a mix of Let it Out/Inevitable

The fact that starkid made a MUSICAL extended universe

The new characters/actors, Kim, Angela, Kendall, James, Curt, were all amazing and their addition really helped flesh out the new universe (plus, it doesn’t hurt that they have amazing voices)

The old cast playing new dynamics and pushing themselves (Lauren, Dylan, and Joey especially, but Jaime killed in her role as Sherman too, as did Robert with Ethan and Jon as Gary)

THE SCRIPT OH MY GOD THE SCRIPT

The choreography! Feast or Famine was my favorite but they keep getting better and better with this!

Their comedy, still fucking gold. Especially those fucking oneliners and small exchanges. “Well, we haven’t put a label on it yet” “But we are intimate” *moment if silence*, “Hannah what the fuck is this, that better be fucking floss!”, “That’s a bribe sir, and that’s illegal”, *raised eyebrow*, “... Well it should be”, “Ooh right in the subpeona”, everything about James Tolbert as Agent Morris

The social CRITIQUE, the fact that the kids don’t even want wiggly, it’s the adults who want to buy wigglys to fill the holes in them (still buying a wiggly though)

How vitalized they all seem to be about the new direction of starkid/that they’re experimenting and coming out of their comfort zone. I love starkid but you could tell that they were getting worn out by just sticking to the same formula of just making parodies. Before TGWDLM we had 2 year gaps between uploads of musicals (which, a year to write a musical is incredible, Sondheim has currently been working on the latest for a decade, and Miranda took like three for Hamilton). I love seeing creators grow

The overall aesthetic of the stage, costumes, and music was so vicerally haunting and scary. I literally slept with my hallway light on and the door open the first time I saw it

Sigh, and now for the things I might get pitchforked for

First some technical stuff. One, I think the sound equipment was on too low for the stage production. If you compare the songs in the stage production to the album version, you can tell that the more subtle parts of the intrumentals were just too quiet. Also, the actors’ voices were much louder than the music so sometimes it was like they were singing acapella. Two, although I appreciate the new camera work and how it’s more similar to traditional recordings of musicals, it did take away from my ability to appreciate the choreography and the subtle reactions of the cast

While a lot of the songs were good, some of them just needed to be cut or trimmed. Especially for songs where one line of explanation would have sufficed. An example of a trimmed song I think is CaliforM.I.A where Lex sings that her mom is an alcoholic, etc. I feel like it could have just been spoken and it would have been more subtle, quiet and painful. A song I think needed to be cut was Deck the Halls. I love Robert, but that song was mostly just an omage to what they did with Workin’ Boys. However, the part that made Workin’ Boys, pardon the pun, work was that it was Professor Hidggen’s backstory/dream. It revealed something about him and his isolation

Some of the lines in the lyrics were just clunky. It’s something I noticed in TGWDLM, but I thought it really worked there since the characters couldn’t sing naturally. However, it seemed to be worse in this? Like I said, some songs were still golden. But some just. Monsters and Men, I noticed had a lot of it. Which yeah, they had less than a year to write it and they had more songs than TGWDLM, so it makes sense that some are a bit rushed? But still, i would have preferred a shorter soundtrack with tighter songs.

I think the Becky and Tom romance was so unnecessary. I feel like yeah, you can make them exes, and you can build up their chemistry so it’s implied they’ll get together eventually, but the fact that they fall in “love” in like 5 hours makes them so shoehorned. For Becky, it’s kind of a disservice because most of her songs are then focused on romance. For Tom, it’s just. It kind of cheapens him, especially since he was previously married for at least 8 years. Like you don’t hear him mention Jane or Tim at all, or worry about Tim’s gift when he’s at the theater. So when it comes to him singing “If I Fail You” it doesn’t feel authentic because you don’t get that sense of Tom feeling like failure over Tim in his dialogue. And also, you could cut out a lot of songs (and give them something new ones)

Although I loved the multiple storylines, I felt like it was really hard to connect to the characters. I feel like that might be because of the songs? Characters were so busy with info dump songs that there were just less interactions in general. I would have loved if the character subtleties could be explored in the same way as TGWDLM

They shouldn’t have killed Ethan. Not just because it’s Robert, but as part of the overall storyline, they shouldn’t have killed Ethan.

Imagine if it had played out like this: No Becky-Tom Romance. They’re just fleeing the mayhem together because they’re the few that managed to keep sane. Becky has a doll but Tom doesn’t. Ethan and Hannah get accosted by the mob. Ethan tells Hannah to run and you see him start to fight, but not what happens after. Hannah is running and you see dead bodies strewn around the mall (to show that people have died). Becky and Tom appear. They hear a few of the wiggly worshippers members yell that they have to find the girl with the wiggly. Tom joins in on the hunt because “he needs to find one for Tim”, the same scene plays out with Do You Want to Play With Me? bc that song is a BOP but Ethan shows up to save Hannah. Becky manages to snap out of her trance and helps Ethan subdue Tom. The three of them flee. Now the two of them are bigger targets bc they had two wigglys. Meanwhile Lex teams up with her managers/discovers her supernatural powers during their escape or something and goes looking for Hannah and Ethan. All this within the first act. Now you’ve got about ~4 plotlines (the cultists/Linda, the trio, Lex (all at the mall) and General McNamara) that are a bit interconnected instead of ~6.

None of the characters got time to breathe, pause and reassess, or grieve. Hannah and Lex never even found out about Ethan. Gerald didn’t find out his wife died, and his call bit was used for comedy, The President didn’t even seem too affected by General McNamara’s sacrifice (which might be a byproduct of the switching story arcs, but contrasts to his TGWDLM moments where he at least got his last words and Paul remembered him)

There was no indication of Lex being supernatural, so her connection with General McNamara was pretty out of the blue and unearned.

That’s it. As I said, I loved it, I just think it could be rearranged somewhat