#you don't have to agree with me obviously but i want you to reflect on what you are implying here

[thechosenanubis]

People who call Sibuna Found Family and then go: " X and Y are the mother and father of the group while Z is the child, obviously! "

Makes me question if you know what Found Family actually means....

[featherymainffins]

Sometimes I think I must be a weird author because everyone keeps making "haha writing the middle part of the story is so hard haha the start and the ending are so easy baba" jokes but I never know how a story will end.

I start and then I write the middle, and then a logical conclusion happens.

[audrey-emeralds]

Smashing Diamonds

Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader

Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex

A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!

Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.

However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.

" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.

~~~time skip~~~

After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.

" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.

" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.

" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.

" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "

You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.

Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.

You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.

" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.

" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "

You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.

" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.

" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.

" In that case, drink the fuck up! "

Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.

You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.

Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.

" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.

" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.

" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.

" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.

" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "

" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.

" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.

The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.

Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.

Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.

As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.

The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.

Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "

Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.

His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.

You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "

" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.

" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.

" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.

" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "

He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.

You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.

You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.

" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "

" Is this what you came for? "

You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "

Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.

As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.

" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.

" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.

" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.

" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.

" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.

" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.

He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.

You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.

" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.

" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.

" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.

Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.

" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.

" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "

" We will see if you will. "

[kick-a-long]

so let me get this straight. elon musk retweeted or tweeted an antisemitic comment (because he's an antisemitic asshole from a very antisemitic country south africa) and he was critizised to the point that he took a trip to israel to like reflect and learn about how jews don't eat babies or whatever. but...

Ta-Nehisi Coates, an antisemitic asshole who's antisemitic dad also publishes antisemitic books just one's he's too lazy to write, says in person, recorded on video, without retraction.... that he would join in on the rape, murder, infanticide, and kidnapping of jews, if given the chance... and trevor noah (from very antisemitic country south africa) agreed whole heartedly and adding that it's like the american revolution.... which implies that isreal rode into gaza and lebanon ans was dictating how those countries operate and taking taxes which is WHAT IRAN DOES THROUGH HAMAS AND HEZBOLLAH ALONG WITH THE RAPES AND MURDERS... but there's no media outlet saying that might be kind of fucked up and maybe they should apologize or some vague insincere bullshit... I'm sorry?

and also Christopher Columbus... THE symbol for Catholics in America (which is why we that monster even got his own day. literally catholics, the knights of columbus, wanted a celebration of how interconnected the united states and CATHOLICS are) the Christopher columbus with MASSIVE statues around the globe in portugal, spain, america, italy... that guy is now jewish, just like hitler, because .... he has some jewish DNA. and we are just disregarding his recorded actions, relationship to the church, his very catholic life, lifestyle, origins, and catholic life.

and all this during the jewish christmas/ramidan (because goyim don't know what the fuck our high holy days are even if that name alone should tell you exactly how important they are) ??

which idiots are these things for? who is watching the ta interview and saying to themselves, "boy i would love to read the book by the guy who loves murder and kidnapping and rape! what a leftist humanitarian!" or, "WOW! I hate christopher columbus I'm so glad i don't have to feel guilty as a christian that he was under orders by my church because he was obviously a jew going rouge. because i'm a leftist but also a devout catholic? which is a thing that is a totally consistent world view?"

Who asked for this? I don't think this kind of shit is even for antisemitic leftists anymore. this is for some kind of POC leftist white supremesist with white guilt but also an arab supremasist .... i guess that might describe one or two very mentally ill people but... like ... who? is this stuff to get rage clicks from jews? there aren't that many jews you guys. I have no fucking understanding of these people's world's view other than they hate jews. none of this makes sense in any other way than to attack and increase attacks on jews around the globe. it's so mentally confusing because none of these people are saying anything that benefits them in anyway, nothing that is smart or true, nothing that makes sense if it is not generated directly from the thought, "this will increase jew hate, so i should do it!"

these people are risking their careers, being hella racist about arabs generally and Palistinians specifically, making both jews and arabs less safe, saying inflammatory things they obviously spent very little time thinking about, for the chance to normalize antisemitism. what planet are these media orgs even living on? they don't sound like nazis, they sound like fucking delusional Qanon derps who are improving "the day of the storm" ironically like the segments they show on the daily show, with TREVOR NOAH.

it's like really... sad. like, these guys and scientist have wasted so many people's time and their own talents which people tell me they have i guess, but it's sad that this kind of libel from the media doesn't even make sense to people who don't live on twitter.

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

You Should Be Sad

Weightless, Breathless Restitute (2)

Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've just joined the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but Wanda doesn't think your powers are all that special or are they?

Word Count: 2,042

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R uses her powers on W, W calls R Mommy, R uses pet names, R calls W bunny, Mommy kink

A/N: Here is the prequel and the meeting of Wanda and R from You Should Be Sad~

The room was filled with an air of anticipation as I took my seat next to Tony. The hum of fluorescent lights seemed louder somehow, mingling with the heavy silence. I could feel the eyes of the Avengers on me—some curious, others skeptical.

"Alright, everyone," Tony began, glancing around the room. "I'd like you to meet the newest member of the team: Y/N Y/L/N."

I offered a small, curt smile, trying to hide the nervous flutter in my chest. This was a big moment for me, and I didn’t want to seem out of place among these seasoned heroes.

"I've got voice manipulation," I said, my voice steady. To demonstrate, I shifted my tone, letting it oscillate subtly, from deep to high. A few eyebrows raised in acknowledgment.

Then, I pulled down the collar of my shirt just a tad, revealing the Power Stone embedded in the middle of my chest. It glowed softly, a vibrant shade of purple, and I saw a few gasps around the room.

"This," I said, tapping the stone gently, "gives me super strength."

Thor leaned forward, his eyes wide with recognition. "That stone... It's one of the Infinity Stones."

I nodded. "Yes, it is. And with it, I can hold my own in a fight."

Tony smirked, obviously pleased with the team's reaction. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to business."

As the meeting went on, discussing missions and strategies, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. I was no longer just Y/N Y/L/N; I was an Avenger. And with that title came responsibilities and challenges unlike anything I had ever faced before.

The room fell silent, and Wanda's expression shifted from skepticism to a mix of surprise and frustration. I raised an eyebrow at her, a subtle smirk playing on my lips.

"Voice manipulation can't be better than my mind manipulation," Wanda scoffed.

I leaned in, meeting her gaze. "Shall I give a better demonstration?" I proposed, and after a moment of hesitation, she agreed.

As my eyes glowed with a vibrant purple, I commanded her, "Kiss me." Wanda moved, almost mechanically, ready to comply. But just as she was about to, I interrupted with a firm, "Stop."

A slight smirk danced on my lips as I added, "Kneel. Stay." To everyone's amazement, Wanda followed my commands, unable to resist. I turned my attention back to the rest of the Avengers.

"Anymore questions about how powerful my voice is?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, Wanda attempting to get up but held in place. "Oh sweetie, that won't work. Not until I command you."

The room was filled with a tense silence, and I could sense a mixture of awe and caution from the Avengers. I had just made a strong statement about the extent of my abilities, and it seemed they were still processing the implications.

I met the eyes of each Avenger in the room, trying to convey sincerity. "In the future, I won't use this power on anyone unless it's to save your life."

The tension in the room lingered, and I could see the unease reflected in their expressions. My demonstration had left an indelible impression, and it was clear they were grappling with the full extent of my abilities.

"I understand your concerns," I continued, my voice softer now. "But you have my word. I'm here to be a part of this team, to fight alongside you—not against you."

There was a pause, a palpable hesitation as they absorbed my words. Slowly, some of the tension began to ease, replaced by a cautious sense of acceptance. It was a small step, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

"Alright. You can get up. I don't want you all to think I'm a monster," I said, releasing Wanda from my command. My eyes faded back to their normal green hue as she rose, her expression a mix of relief and lingering resentment.

Without another word, Wanda stormed off, leaving a palpable tension in her wake. I sighed, realizing the gravity of my actions had perhaps overshadowed my intentions.

"I'll apologize," I announced, rising from my seat. It was important to me that the team understood I meant no harm, even if my abilities had startled them.

As I left the room in search of Wanda, I couldn't help but ponder the complexities of joining Earth's mightiest heroes. It was clear that earning their trust would be a journey filled with challenges, but I was determined to prove myself worthy of the title—Avenger.

I knock at her door, "Wanda can I please come in?" I ask and for a moment there is silence. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Wanda seated on her bed, her attention seemingly absorbed by a sitcom playing on the screen. She didn't acknowledge me as I entered, a palpable tension filling the room.

Standing before her, I met her gaze, searching for any sign of forgiveness in her eyes. "How could you do something like that?" she asked, her voice wavering with a mix of hurt and confusion.

"I'm sorry," I replied, my voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't think it through. I was just showing off, and I hurt and embarrassed you, and I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

For a moment, there was silence as Wanda processed my apology. Then, to my surprise, she responded, "You can finish what you started out there."

I looked at her in shock, not expecting that to be her answer. It was a clear indication of how deeply I had wounded her pride, and I realized that a mere apology wouldn't suffice. I needed to demonstrate my sincerity through action, and it seemed that finishing the demonstration was the first step in mending the rift I had created.

Wanda's request was clear, and I nodded in acknowledgment. "Use your voice. I don't feel like thinking anymore," she stated, pulling me onto the bed beside her.

Allowing my eyes to glow once again, I met her gaze and issued a command, "Kiss me until you need air." Wanda's lips met mine with an intensity fueled by a mixture of emotions. We lost ourselves in the moment, our lips moving in sync as if trying to bridge the gap that had formed between us.

"Shall we keep going?" I inquired, my voice genuine, devoid of any manipulation. Wanda nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of anticipation and desire.

My hand ventured further up her thigh, eliciting a squirm from her. "Oh, someone is eager," I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.

She let out a whine, her body responding to my touch even as my powers began to wane, no longer clouding her judgment as before. Yet, she still moved her hips against my hand, a silent affirmation of the connection between us.

The room was filled with a palpable tension, each touch and movement deepening the bond between us, forging a path towards understanding and mutual desire.

"I'm so glad you're wearing this pretty little dress, sweetie. It's going to make things a lot easier," I remarked with a smirk, my eyes taking in the fabric that clung to her.

"You want this so badly, don't you? A few commands, and that was it? Have you ever done this before?" I inquired, probing for the truth.

Wanda bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before I commanded, "Tell me the truth."

"N-no... never," she admitted, her voice shaky.

I continued to tease her, reveling in the control I had over her reactions. "Awww, that's so pathetic. How old are you, sweetie?"

Despite her efforts to hold back, a moan escaped her lips as she replied, "T-twenty-five."

I laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "Oh yes, my pathetic little baby. I'm going to show you everything," I declared, my smirk deepening as I looked into her eyes, now almost entirely black with pleasure and desire.

I removed my hand, and Wanda let out a groan of frustration. "Oh hush. Get used to it. I'm not giving you everything right away," I teased, smacking her thigh lightly, eliciting a yelp from her.

Guiding her movements, I shifted her hips and pulled her down onto my thigh. "Rub, like this," I instructed, moving her hips back and forth.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a soft mewl of pleasure as she followed my guidance. I watched intently, letting her take control, her movements becoming more desperate as she tried to find release against my thigh.

The room was filled with the sounds of her pleasure, each moan and gasp driving me to push her further, to explore the depths of her desire and vulnerability. It was a dance of power and submission, a delicate balance that we were navigating together, each movement bringing us closer to the edge.

"Y/N... Gonna..." Wanda's voice was a breathless moan, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Stop," I commanded, my eyes flashing purple once again, halting her in her tracks. "Off my thigh. Move to the middle of the bed on your hands and knees," I instructed, my voice unwavering.

I watched as she obeyed, her movements tinged with a mix of desperation and anticipation. I shifted positions, moving around the bed to gaze into her eyes, now shimmering with tears.

"Oh, you look so beautiful right now, baby," I confessed, my voice softening as I took in the sight before me.

"Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me the truth." I ask, tilting her chin up. 

"I want you Mommy. Please...touch me...make me feel good. I need it...I need you. I need your touch Mommy." She cried out in desperation and my stomach exploded with a million butterflies as the sound of desperation in her voice for me. 

I couldn’t hold back anymore as I let two fingers slip inside of her. A moan came out as she grabbed my wrist. “Hands up, above your head. Keep them above your head.” You told her and she moved them as if she were tied by invisible ropes. “Good girl. Now do you want to cum for Mommy?” You asked, looking her in her eyes all dark and glazed from your words. Her head nodded frantically. “Use your words.” A whimper slipped past her lips before the words tumbled past her lips.

“Please Mommy! Wanna cum for you. Wanna make a mess for you! Wanna be Mommy's good girl, please can I cum?” She looked at you desperately.

“Cum.” You gave your command and her body obeyed beautifully. Her back arching and her moans growing louder. You felt her tighten around your fingers as she tried to fight against your command, trying to pull against the invisible restraints. Her whole body trembling for you as you forced it out on a command of your tongue.

“What a beautiful sight. Such a pretty bunny.” Her eyes widened at the nickname, drinking it up like it was water after being in the heat all day. 

“Bunny. your bunny Mommy.” You smiled down at her as you slowly left her, giving a quick kiss before going to her bathroom for a towel. Cleaning her up with a few quiet whimpers falling from her lips and a few quiet ‘shhh’ fall from yours. Once it was done with you let the command go of her hands and took her into your arms.

“You did so good for me bunny.” You kissed her forehead and she looked up at you.

“Can we do this again? Not right not, but just like in general?” She looked up at you with doe eyes still dark with lust.

“How about a date first and we’ll see where it goes?” Wanda blushed, burying her face against you and nodding. She relaxed against you until you felt her breathing even out against you. A smile finding its way to your face as you watched her. You know you had said about not using your power, but Wanda would be the exception so long as she’d want it.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @mrsromanovaa

[hiiragimare]

Memory and magic are sealed (for now)

She's acting more and more like that person, and Emma had to in order to keep Gynger from ending up like that person.

Prior to that, Gynger had been missing for two years (since after Hogwarts graduation) One of the reasons Sebastian chose to become an Auror was also to find her. At first Sebastian's job wasn't all that special, some minor wizarding strife, some dark wizards who had gone astray, and so on, until slowly, more and more names of Valtyci's appeared on the list of dead people, and he'd even heard that the squib of the Valtyci's had risen from the dead, and that it was she who'd killed them.There'd also been some disturbances on the Ominis' side of the family, because the Gaunt family has been in a relationship with the Valtyci family for years, and now more people are dying, Ominis is being asked to find out what's going on.

Sebastian vaguely thinks that these things have something to do with Gynger, because during a pursuit operation, his magic was almost able to hit the murderer, but in a flash, his blood alliance vial with Gynger suddenly reacted, the chain tightly wrapped around Sebastian's arm, and the sudden tingling sensation caused Sebastian to stop the attack in his hand.Ominis was puzzled by this.Ominis was puzzled by this, they were obviously about to catch the culprit, why did Sebastian stop at the critical moment, "What are you doing? Why did you stop? It's not like you to do anything."

"I ......"Couldn't tell Ominis about the fact that he'd made a blood pact with Gynger. At least, not yet, "I might be a little dizzy, sorry."Sebastian apologised. His heart was pounding, could that be Gynger?

"I need your help, you're investigating this aren't you, one by one the Valtyci family personnel have been killed."Suddenly one day, Emma, a former champion of the Triwizard Tournament, came to the Ministry of Magic to find Sebastian.

"You know exactly who did this, don't you?"Emma asked Sebastian, "It was Gynger. although she did it at first to help avenge her mother, now she's gone a little too far and we need to stop her. You want to find her too, don't you?"

Of course, Sebastian wanted to see Gynger like crazy, he hadn't heard anything about her in the past two years, it was like she had suddenly disappeared from the world. He even tried to write to her as usual, however these mountains of letters simply wouldn't reach her. There was a time when he felt like he was going to break down, and instead of going to work at the Ministry of Magic for days on end, he lay in bed and kept stroking their Blood Alliance vials, and it was only when the Ministry asked Ominis to go to Sebastian's house to see how things were going that he managed to make things better.

"I'll help you."Sebastian immediately agreed to Emma's request, he didn't care what Emma wanted him to do, he would do anything to see Gynger.

With only the last branch of the Valtyci family now left on the list of surviving members, Sebastian and Emma arrived at their mansion early. However, it seemed they were still a step too late.

"Congratulations! My loves."A white haired woman sat on the stairs of the main hall, "I knew you would come, miss me?"

Sebastian looked over at the woman on the stairs, his heart began to beat wildly, he had a feeling that it was Gynger, but the likeness was a little different.

"Ah, you care about that?"The person seemed to notice Sebastian's gaze as she pointed to her cheek, "I like the look of my mother."As he spoke, a bolt of lightning streaked through the window, the harsh light of the thunder reflecting the original colour of the person's hair - a familiar, flame-like red. "I want all the Valtyci family to see that face before they die."

"Enough! You're looking more and more like that person, wake up!"Emma led the attack, but Sebastian froze in place. The person he had been longing for was right in front of him and he didn't want to perform any actions at all, there were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many questions he wanted to ask her, he even wanted to use the spell Accio to take the person into his arms and hold her tightly. Why did she leave without saying goodbye?Gynger used to be a very cheerful companion, but ever since she went on a trip to her aunt's house a few days before graduation, everything changed.Gynger started to be quiet, and didn't even attend the graduation ceremony, she just left Hogwarts without a word. What the hell happened?

"What are you gawking at?"Ominis's voice came to her ears, it turned out that Emma had already known that Sebastian and Gynger had made a blood oath (Emma's divination ability was excellent, she had foreseen this scene in her crystal ball), she knew that Sebastian probably couldn't move, so Emma contacted Ominis as well.Ominis's eye disease was still not getting better, but his hearing was excellent, andhis wand, having been subjected to more refined adjustments after graduation, Ominis was now no less capable than an accomplished Auror.

The intense magical duel continues, and even with Emma and Ominis' excellent abilities, they still struggle to resist Gynger's ancient magic. Sebastian also finally came back to his senses, but it seemed that he chose to side with Gynger. After all, he can't attack Gynger, and he doesn't want to send Gynger to Azkaban. But facing his former best friend, he couldn't do anything to kill him, so he could only try to create a magic shield for Gynger.

"Sebastian? What are you doing?"Emma looked at Sebastian who was standing on the opposite side, "We're losing!"

"Ah, you're really going to help me after all, I'm so happy!"Gynger looked towards Sebastian who was walking towards him And just then Emma aimed for the opening, she pulled out a small black crystal and used the shockwave of magic to hit Gynger with it The moment Gynger was hit the space around her began to distort and a piercing noise began to emanate from her surroundings. She began to hold her head and scream in agony, it seemed to be an unbearable magic, like the crucio spell. She fell through the air and onto the marble floor Seeming to pass out, everything was calm again, except that the objects around Emma and the others seemed to start disintegrating and dissipating.

Sebastian saw Gynger fall to the floor and rushed over to her, taking her in his arms, "What did you do to her?"Sebastian questioned Emma

"I sealed her memories and magic."Emma seemed a little helpless, "I'm sorry, it's all I can think of at the moment. Her soul seems to be gradually on the verge of being taken over by another, and it's the only way I can find a way to change her back to her old self."

"You mean ...... she doesn't remember me?"Sebastian froze, he looked again at the passed out person in his arms, the one he had longed for, his once best friend. They had been through so much and now they were all going to forget?

"It's only temporary, I'll try to restore her memory when I find a better solution, it's just ......" Emma hesitated a little, "The Ministry of Magic will make you hand over the prisoner while I'm gone, right? "

"Can't let the Ministry of Magic take her."Sebastian lowered his head and hugged Gynger tightly, "She'll be fine with me, don't worry."Just as Gynger didn't turn him in back then, this time, he wouldn't turn Gynger in either, and more importantly, he didn't want to be separated from Gynger. The longing for two years had finally been relieved at this moment, and he wouldn't let her go again.

[roguishcat]

Upon reflection, I find you perfect

This is for an ask by @pebble-bb where Astarion gets to see his reflection for the first time. Absolutely lovely idea and I'm sorry it took me ages to actually post it!

@busy-baker has already posted hers because she is amazing! The writing is gorgeous, tender and beautiful! Here is the link so check it out!

This has no beta. So I apologise in advance for mistakes.

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader

"What have you got there, love?"

"Nothing!" you say a little too quickly and attempt to hide the package behind your back.

Astarion clicks his tongue and slips his long fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you have no choice but to look straight at him.

"Tsk, cheeky pup. Lies don't become you. Out with it!" he says in a stern voice, but his eyes shine with mirth and his lips twist into a smile.

"What are you hiding that has you flustered such a fetching shade of red, hm?" he lifts his other hand to push your hair back and expose your neck. Soft digits touch skin, making you shiver.

"Nothing?" you try again, wriggling away from him, but you know it is futile. When one becomes the subject of a vampire's attention, one does not get away until the said vampire decides to set the victim free. And Astarion obviously has no intention of doing that.

"I see. Well, this nothing must be worth something, seeing as you are ready to risk baiting a predator to conceal it. Is it really a wise move to entice me when I'm itching for any excuse to devour you?"

As pleasant as that sounds, you have to be out of the inn and on your way. You have an appointment with an artificer that you must keep. It was difficult enough to convince him to take on the project, as he stated that he 'was an inventor and objects of petty vanity were beneath him'. It took coin, promises of securing rare materials, and some thinly veiled threats for the ingenious but somewhat mad artificer to begrudgingly agree to work on your project.

But you know what Astarion is like. You have to tell him something or he will not let you out of his sight at all.

"Fine. It’s a present for you, happy? "

You give a petulant pout which only makes his smile grow wider.

"Aren't I lucky that you want to spoil me? And my goodness, how your heart flutters!" he chuckles and places a kiss over the bitemarks on your neck. "Must be a very, very special present."

"It is, but it's not done yet. So you better not try to take a peek!" you push against his chest.

"Oh my sweet, you wound me! Are you insinuating that I will try to steal it and see what is inside?"

"Not insinuating, telling you outright that you better not go snooping through my things."

"Fine!" he sighs, pretending to be hurt by your words. "I will not go through your things. Cross my heart and hope to- well, you get it," he grins and finally moves, allowing you to get up.

You have the package in your hands and clutch it to close to your chest. You can feel ruby red eyes follow your every movement and try to ignore him as you quickly dress, keeping the present close at all times lest Astarion decides to swipe it when he thinks you are distracted.

Several hours later you find yourself stomping your way back to the inn, absolutely livid, fingers twitching as you try to contain your anger.

That ass! How in the world did Astarion manage to replace your package with a near identical one? You looked like such an idiot, standing in the middle of the forge and gawking at the unexpected contents that spilled out as soon as you unwrapped it.

Astarion gets away with a lot when it comes to you, with you having near no immunity to his charms. But not this time! You are in a terrible mood and he is going to hear all about it!

You storm into your shared room, pushing the door with too much force. It slams against the wall and bounces back with a loud protest, almost hitting you in the face.

“Astarion, you are unbelievable!" You point an accusatory finger in his general direction. "I have half a mind to-”

Then you stop abruptly as you notice shards of glass scattered about the floor, tens of your reflections frowning back at you.

“Oh yes, darling, I do apologise. I- I’m afraid I couldn’t resist,” Astarion's back is to you and he makes no move to turn around.

“What happened?” you ask softly, picking up what is left of the mirror off the floor. This clearly is no accident. It has been smashed violently and, from the looks of it, repeatedly.

“You know how it is sometimes,” Astarion says woodenly. “Butterfingers, I’m afraid.”

You take a tray off the table and put the remains of the mirror on it with shaking fingers. Distracted and barely paying attention to what you are doing, you accidentally pierce one finger with a jagged edge. Blood pebbles on skin, but you care little. The wound does not worry you as much as Astarion's lack of reaction to the smell of your blood.

Choosing to deal with one issue at a time, you set the tray aside and walk towards Astarion. His head is hanging low, silver curls somehow looking lacklustre as they hang limply over his eyes.

“My love,” you tilt his head, and although he does not resist, he keeps looking down rather than at you. “Can you please tell me what actually happened?”

Looking downcast, Astarion takes a breath he doesn’t need and swallows, fingers fidgeting nervously in his lap.

“I didn’t believe it at first. But once I realised… ” he finally lifts his face to look at you, his expression momentarily child-like as he recalls making this wonderful discovery. "My own reflection. At first, I was elated. Drinking myself in, turning my face this way and that. But then,” his lips twist, smile turning sardonic, “I looked into my eyes and saw the eyes of a monster staring back. I guess it isn’t often one looks into a mirror and is met with an abomination.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead. You want to hug him, kiss the hurt away. But you feel that this is not the time for touch, no matter how well-intentioned and comforting.

“For years I couldn’t remember what my eyes looked like. Could hardly map out my face from touches and ministrations, through blows and cuts. But now…”

“Now?” you echo, wanting to press your face into the crook of Astarion’s neck and hold him close.

“I guess actually seeing myself as a vampire for the first time brought about the feelings of disgust and self-loathing that I thought I was getting rather good at dealing with,” he gives a little mirthless chuckle, tossing his hair back. Curls fall back into place and as Astarion's face settles into a neutral expression he might as well be a statue. Eerily still and lifeless.

You say nothing at first, letting the silence stretch and gingerly lay a hand on top of his. He does not attempt to move it away. After a while, he turns his hand palm up to interlock his fingers with yours.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” you begin cautiously. “I thought you would love it.”

You feel like crying. You should have asked. Perhaps if Astarion knew about what you have been planning, this would have gone better.

“I did, if only for a moment,” he nods. “It was perfect until it felt tainted.”

 Astarion pulls you towards him and you settle into his lap, putting your head on his chest. His hands snake round you and he hugs you close, his shoulders relaxing gradually.

“But this just makes me more determined than anything to enjoy my reflection again, once these feelings pass,” he murmurs.

You look up at your vampire, brushing an errant curl back into place with loving, gentle fingers. "I want to tell you who I see when I look at you."

"Oh, I'm well aware of what you see," he says quietly. "I've long accepted the cards fate dealt me. But it's sweet of you to try."

"Hush, you," you put your fingers on his lips. "Just let me speak."

He doesn’t try to move away or attempt to contradict you. Instead, Astarion looks at you with genuine vulnerability that he allows few to see. You want to tell him how much he makes your heart race, his nearness making you feel dizzy and overwhelmed. You want to tell him how brave, how amazing he was when facing Cazador. How you felt proud of him, honoured to be at his side as he refused to give in to temptation. But there would be other times for that.

"When I look at you, I see a hero,” you try to condense all you feel into few words. “The one we are all indebted to. Savior of Baldur's Gate."

"It does have a rather nice ring to it," he nods.

"Hm, does it not?"

“So my being celebrated is the only reason you are sticking around then?” he teases.

"Maybe in part,” you shrug, corners of your mouth twitching. “But you are so much more than that. I see my best friend, lover, confidant. Someone I can trust with my life. Someone I put my faith in-”

"Well, the jury is still out on whether trusting me is sensible."

"Don’t interrupt,” you move to nip his earlobe with blunt teeth, his mouth immediately clicking closed as he supresses a moan by burying his face in your hair. “And I see someone who trusts me in return. Even if you are very vocal about my battle plans being borderline suicidal, you still have my back."

Astarion mutters something into your hair but otherwise does not attempt to interrupt you.

"You make me laugh. You say the weirdest shit and no matter how awful I'm feeling at the time, your words take my mind off it."

You sit up and gently cup Astarion’s face. Red eyes lock with yours.

"My love, you have survived so much, you are so brave and strong. These feelings, the shadows that haunt you still... You will overcome all of it.”

Astarion does not say anything at first, then he puts his hands over yours, moving his face forward until your foreheads touch.

“I will overcome this,” he says quietly, but with determination. “We have been through so much already! Besides,” he moves his hand to wipe a tear off your cheek, “I would very much like to see us standing side by side. As equals.”

His lips quirk into a smile. It is ghost of a smile still, but it makes you release a shuddering breath of relief.

“I would love that too. More than anything,” you admit.

He kisses your temple and his eyes are drawn to the slowly bleeding cut on your finger.

“Oh dear, it seems that you injured yourself there, you sweet fool,” he admonishes you teasingly, putting your finger into his mouth and lapping at the digit.

You feel your cheeks warm. How is it that he still manages to make you blush with so little effort? It is ridiculous how much you are infatuated with this man.

"And for the record,” you clear your throat, so your voice doesn’t tremble, “I happen to like your fangs and eyes. As an elf or as a vampire, you cut a dashing figure."

Astarion smirks, ruby eyes on your face. He withdraws your finger from his mouth with a pop, giving it a kiss. “How ever did you manage to create such a mirror?”

“Well, it wasn’t actually done. Not properly,” you grumble, remember that you are meant to be annoyed at him for stealing the mirror. “Which is why I told you to stay out of my stuff!” you punch his biceps playfully. He catches your fist and gives it a nip.

“Well, as I admitted earlier, I couldn’t resist taking a peek. Not when you flushed so deliciously when I tried to get an answer from you.”

“You are incorrigible! Had you actually waited, the mirror wouldn’t be so murky and would be floor-length. I have been planning it for weeks, I have you know!”

“My, my,” he gives an amused, toothy grin, “weeks of sneaking about behind my back and I was none-the-wiser! And just when I think that I’ve learned everything about you, you turn around and surprise me with something like that. What a naughty, clever girl,” he purrs against your neck, humming in approval when he hears you gasp at the sensation.

“I believe that we might just call on that artificer after all.”

“We? Who said anything about you being invited along?”

“Hence my inviting myself along, darling. Honestly. Do keep up!” the words are punctuated with shallow nips on your neck, asking for permission.

“Fine,” you laugh, threading your fingers through silver curls. “But just a quick bite, we have to leave straight after. We might be in luck, that man is so fickle and forgetful, he probably hasn’t noticed that I was gone a while.”

You feel fangs pierce skin and then a pleasant, familiar numbness as your vampire drinks, humming in delight as your blood hits his tongue and the taste briefly overwhelms him.

"Perhaps," he resurfaces, lapping at runaway droplets, "that artificer of yours might wait a while still. Give us enough time to indulge in a quick afternoon delight even?"

"Astarion! No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

He doesn't answer this time, but you feel his palm against your side, fingers making their descent deliciously, torturously slow.

You grip them firmly, ignoring the way your heart beats wildly, which Astarion picks up on and tries to move in for a kiss. You turn your face at the last moment, his cool lips meeting your cheek.

"Tsk, you're no fun," he chuckles, moving back enough for you to scramble away.

"Because you are the designated 'fun one' in this relationship," you tug sharply at your shirt and clear your throat. "You're coming?"

"Apparently not anytime soon," he grins at your unamused look." But I will walk down to the forge with you. Since you asked so nicely."

A few weeks later in spite of some minor mishaps, your project is complete. You can scarcely believe it and hope that Astarion will not find the experience overwhelming.

And this is how you and Astarion find yourself standing hand in hand in front of the improved, bronze-backed mirror, the artificer's magic tweaking its properties and supposedly making it as good as any other mirror out there.

"Ready, my love?" you give his hand a light squeeze.

"With you by my side? Always."

And so Astarion lifts his hand and pulls the fabric off with a flourish.

"Show off," you mutter, making him grin widely as fabric flutters through the air, falls on the floor and finally stills.

You look at Astarion, watching his face closely as his eyes widen and his mouth falls open slightly. Feeling his fingers tremble, you give them a reassuring squeeze and turn away from your vampire to look at the mirror.

And there you are. Side by side. As equals. Not just lovers, but comrades-in-arms, friends. Because come hell or high water, you are there for each other.

"Oh my," you hear Astarion breathe out as he studies his face, "I can see why you can't keep your hands to yourself, my sweet! I'm simply stunning!"

"And humble, too," you tease, enjoying the way Astarion’s eyes light up in delight.

The setting sun frames Astarion's face and threads through his curls, making him shine and glow so beautifully you feel overwhelmed.

With some effort, Astarion tears his eyes away from his reflection and focuses on you.

“Thank you.”

A kiss on your temple.

“Thank you.”

Another on your cheek.

“Thank you.”

His lips find yours. The kiss is languid, unhurried, perfect.

It is a kiss that is full of hope for the future. Your shared future. The future filled with warm, golden days and cool silvery nights. The future where everything seems possible.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900,

@ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78,

@starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[shiningmystic]

Messages from your Spirit Guides PAC 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ───

Welcome friends, to your sprit guide reading whoever your guides may be they always respond to you.

I only call upon the spirits that look fondly upon you and see the being beneath all the judgement and ego, there is just essence. Unconditional love is what I always dip down to even if there are days that I cannot do it for myself, I know it is always present and that gives me much comfort on my worst days. Mental health awareness is real and always check in with yourself especially being chronically honed in on the bad shit that happens around you or is happening. Cultivating slowness is an everyday job for all of us but when we do it we do become thankful. I'm a bit rusty so forgive me if some of my words may be repetitive. Drop a follow to know when I post another general reading!

Pick your Photo:

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Pile I: colors of light 🧚🏾‍♀️

The lovers (rx), 6 of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, the heirophant (rx), 9 of wands (rx)

Back of the deck: ace of cups (rx), knight of swords, 7 of cups

Pile one to begin, your guides sent me images of the sun peering through glass and reflecting rainbow colors which really makes me feel as though you are a deep person but from day to day you may feel dull. Your guides are reminding you, sending you messages of your inner light and how it shines out even if you hide it and reflects back in people places or things. There is a lot about beauty here and how to stay genuine to yourself; your beauty is unique and comparing your beauty to someone else’s is a crime against them and you. If you genuinely don’t think you’re beautiful on outside, then there are always ways to work with what we have when we are ready to tackle it (honestly sometime i need to cry it out). Now on with the card pull:

Wow, I feel a lot going on with so many messages, I’ll try and keep it concise.

First message: you will always be enough is a huge message. It doesn’t matter even if they left you, even if someone who you loved told you that you were too much or even feeling that way towards yourself and your guides do not agree. The more we believe that the more we hurt ourselves and continue to prove it right. Even if you are ‘too much’ there are people out there that would disagree. - huge lesson I’m learning is that two truths can exist at the same space even if they oppose the other. For example, when I talk about my trauma, I feel vulnerable and fearful yet after the fact I feel both emotions, strong and weak. Both fear and strength. You are not to much and even if they couldn’t handle you, your a whole lot of love and light especially from the energy from the image.

Message two: some of you are away from family or your country, things are changing and it’s overwhelming in many ways. There is a lot of choices and a lot of overwhelming feelings towards making them. Your guides are advising you to trust in yourself and ignore the voices around that do not harbor understanding. Trust in your own judgment and believe in what you’re doing because it is your life and your actions that shape it; you will be the one living with it so always believe in yourself, you know what’s best for you and even when we make that mistake, we need a gentle reminder that mistakes are apart of success. if you don't give yourself the space to learn then you will continue to never know what is for you.

Message three: it’s always you pile one that always gets the message to be kinder to yourself; life isn’t a strict fast paced all or nothing (obviously life is very hard now for many.) but your guides are reminding you life will have its downs and if you can’t take time for those downs then they will be crashes. I’m feeling loved ones coming through this pile, so just know your guides understand your struggle and want to remind you as well that they are always with you.

Lots of burn out energy, you are so strong, please believe me when I say you are enough.

To the lovely humans who broke up with someone or let go of a person who you love but was toxic, you did the right thing for yourself, i send you love my love.

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Pile II: Stepping stones ☄️

8 of cups, the hierophant, 7 of cups (rx), ace of pentacles, temperance, the moon

Back of the deck: queen of wands and 2 of cups (rx)

Right now you’re stepping up to the unknown, it’s natural to be fearful of risk. Pile 2 I sense that good things will come to you when you make the choice, even with hesitation don’t doubt the choices you have already made. all we can do is what we know now. the effort you put into your work will pour back into you. I can sense a lot of hesitation but still moving forward and that takes courage! Your guides are proud of you stepping up to the plate.

I can see some people going back to school and graduating scared that they will never find stability. Some of you are taking chances and starting businesses especially creative ones (relatable content). Your guides are supporting you on your financial endeavors and know the future feels scary for many.

It’s very unstable in many places right now so I understand the confusion and the fear but the pendulum always swings back and things always go back into balance again even by force (which we shouldn’t let it to come to an extreme but whatever.) You are strong people but this creativity needs to be grounded in reality when it comes to money; be realistic and continue with your motivated attitude towards your endeavors. honestly some of you are and are focusing to hard on the little details, relax and just do what's in front of you.

Believe in yourself pile 2. You have grown to doubt yourself and abilities at times because of push back and it’s actually super healthy for intelligent people to question themselves but to much self doubt only leaves us frozen. Now is the time to go ahead and shine!

The energy for you is ripe with opportunities your guides are saying go ahead, take the calculated risk, do the thing you want to but just know take time to do it with love and integrity you will succeed.

The moon and the 7 of cups reverse tell me about your doubt, anxiety and not knowing what may happen is the worst but life is all about the mystery and discovering your path. dear wanderer, not all souls who walk a lonely path are lost, maybe you'll run into another.

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Pile III: Glowing mushrooms 🍄

Page of cups, Death, The Emperor, King of pentacles, strength (rx), Ace of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, Page of Swords

Your path to transformation takes determination and strength, but understand the power is within you and how you have gotten far.

Mushrooms are pretty crazy! They grow in so many places and are resilient; I’m not saying you’re a mushroom (even though honestly, it’s a vibe) but your guides are bringing it up. Every photo is connected to the pile it is above and yours is about your strength and resilience (pile 2 as well but it's much more emphasized here).

I mean so many people are keeping it together right now and you’re no different but I feel an extra sprinkle of shit being thrown your way recently or this could be a theme. Keep doing what you’re doing is a message for many but to keep taking the steps to this new life and I mean new life. I don’t mean moving away and starting over (unless that resonates) but you are changing it up, starting new habits and new routines, taking steps constantly at a different pace but never stopping, (it’s a lot that you have been juggling I’m surprised I don’t see the 2 of pentacles) Your guides are like Dang they got this.

Lots are taking big steps in life atm and your frozen on a choice (pile 2 also has some of that energy) there is a message of that you’re only human and sometimes it’s alright to be vulnerable and look back at the good times but the here and now is calling, stay focused and channel your emperor energy guys.

Please don’t neglect your mental health, many of you may be overworking even when you feel like you haven’t pushed yourself hard enough *whacks head* stop! You are working enough it’s just that things in reality are kinda messed up and that’s why there so many of us like this. the world is dysfunctional so of course we will be too. But of course that doesn’t solve the issue of having to keep on when your anxious and depressed, but a minute of your day is all you need to cry, to get a hug from someone, I always recommend self care. You can be strong and vulnerable at the same time and I’m willingly absorbing the information from my therapist on how two truths can exist at the same time even if they oppose the other. Be upset and when you can get up and finish that assignment, project, shipment, sale, you seriously got this but I know this is more about the stress and anxiety all this work carries with it.

Stable energy is present in the spread which makes me feel like your guides are just cheering you on knowing how hard it has been and that you are reaching positive new things especially with Death and this transformation that been going on. Be wary of spending for right now (as i assume you are tbh) but know that finances energetically will grow , just stay on task and carry yourself with pride because you are amazing!

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So those were the messages I picked up on, I hope they comfort and support you in some way, or even give you advice. Stay humble and lovely my friends.

Tarot decks used: Rider-Waite tarot deck

- ShiningMysticTarot ☀️

[etoilesombre]

Hi im a new here i finally watched black sails after someone convinced me. And im changed. I'm. Yeah. I'm not who i was before. It's a bizarrely good show?

I'm so so so glad that so many ppl on ao3 agree with me that flint and silver need to fuck. Have fucked. Will fuck.

This will be all i think about for the next month or so.

If you have fic recs do let me know. I'm in dire need.

Hi my friend and welcome to hell! It's the best, right? ("Month" is a HIGHLY optimistic estimate about how long this will consume your brain...)

So honored that you asked for recs! I don't think I've ever compiled a general list of favorites, I had a great time and I think I'm happy with the results. This is by no means comprehensive, and obviously HIGHLY reflective of my own tastes, which are... uh.. I am known to not enjoy nice things very much. I invite others to reblog with their own favorites. Here we go...

Notes: These are in vaguely chronological order. I'm including word count and brief descriptions so you know what you're getting into but no warnings or anything, that's all on AO3. They are all silverflint and all explicit (I think, there might be one or two 'mature' in there but, this is the they need to, have, and will fuck list.) I didn't include any of my own work because presumably that's how you found my blog so you're aware, but I do have a pinned list, and if you want recs for mine or to talk about any of these just message, I will talk about silverflint all day.

Overall Recommendations:

The Most Unexpected Things by forbiddenarchives (~20k words) I think this one is a great starting point. It is very.. fic flavored fic, if that makes sense, in a great way. Hits the spot. The author's description is "season 2 if everyone were 5000% hornier" and that is accurate. Note this is marked as unfinished, but the place it wraps up feels totally reasonable to me.

As Good as Gone by spinninginfinityboy (~5.5k words) Complicated hot weird semi-hate sex on the way to Charles Town. A thing with a Spanish Dubloon that is emblazoned on my brain forever.

Combat by equestrianstatue (~10k words) A two part series, which I think captures the push-pull early frenemies vibe of s1-2 perfectly. Also the writing itself is stellar.

All alone in a moonlit shanty by PrimalScream (4.3k) Celebrating a good day hunting, Flint gets very drunk and tells the crew a dirty story. Silver tries to put him to bed, but he has different ideas. By far one of the lighter things on this list.

after the winnowing by princesskay (~14k) Set after Silver loses his leg, early in his recovery. Silk pajamas, multiple orgasms and overstimulation as well as their usual codependent fuckery.

What It Feels Like Not to Hurt by Robotboy (~9k) Another recovery fic. As the author says, it's 9k of slowburn watersports but really it's about Silver's pain and autonomy and humiliation and. Just. Even if it's not your usual cup of tea it's hot, give it a try.

vigia by doomcountry (~3k) A short, perfect rendering of their dynamic during early s3 raid times. Heartwrenching character study, excellent porn.

The Sack of James Flint by princesskay (~107k) So, yes, this is a novel length sub!Flint cock and ball torture series. I would make the argument that it is one of the best character studies in the fandom, for real. Absolutely worth your time, but fuck, it hurts your heart as much as your captain's balls in the end.

Concurrence by ember_firedrake (~2.5k) Mid s3. The first time they call each other by their first names. Now, that's not actually a thing I think they do, but, good porn and lower angst.

appreciation by nysscientia (~8k) Flint cultivates a certain aloof persona, but Silver sees right through it, and eventually they kiss about it.

Don't Fear The Ships (Fear The Black) by Farasha (~10k) - Silverflint use learning to sail as a coded way to flirt and talk about feelings (and eventually they kiss about it).

A Ship Is A Republic by Robotboy (~20k) A slow burn fic set during the inter-season sword training times. Love this dynamic, this author does power bottom Flint and sub Silver so fucking well.

deliverance is ours by the light of the stars by piratecaptainraven (3.1k) Flint sees Silver and Madi together, and doesn't stop watching when he should. They don't technically fuck in this, but its SO much pining, and the writing is poetic and gorgeous.

frail and fragile bars by ajaxthegreat (~21k) Possibly the hottest thing I've ever read, this rewrote my brain chemistry. Slow burn-ish. It captures that late season love and dependence and resentment and power struggle.

Cold, Dark, Depraved by notfelix (~10k) When fucking fixes absolutely nothing. This hurts in a way that feels, to me, similar to canon. I hate it (affectionate).

Opportunist by anonymous (~6.1k) This was part of the kinkmeme event (see below) and it fucking changed me. If I recommend one fic and only one fic to process the ending, it's this. It's awful. It's necrophilia and light cannibalism. It's the only thing I can imagine happening after, if Silver actually shoots Flint on that island. It makes me feel bad in the best way.

hand in unlovable hand by brinnanza, Jaynovz (~9.9k) Affectionately known as the worst ending AU, this is actually a great followup to the last one. How Silver copes, after Skeleton Island.

Bonus: AUs. I don't generally read AUs, but these two worked for me, in very different ways that still felt very silverflint.

did the twin flame bruise paint you blue by Jaynovz (138k) Novel length mod AU where silverflint broke up, and we see their relationship along two different timelines, before and after. Toxic fucked up goodness, lots of BDSM dynamics, bonus silvervane! All set in NYC.

holy ghost fire by ajaxthegreat (~52k) Appalachia horror au! The author clearly knows the area, and silverflint is already a ghost story, so it works really well. If you've ever been there you'll know how right it feels, if not, just trust me.

extra bonus: fic event collections and rec lists

kinkmeme

built on sand

beach blanket black sails

@jaynovz has also compiled a number of much more specific rec lists, which can be found at #jay's esoteric rec lists

[johntayjinf]

very serene theme that's been stuck in my mind ever since i first heard it

yk, one thing i've slowly come to internalize is that, once you share your art with the world, it's no longer just yours; it's for everyone.

sounds a bit stupid because realistically speaking i still am responsible for arranging and/or writing the songs that i release... but i think people should be free to interpret art however they like, bad or not. you can obviously tell whether or not people interpret a piece of art in bad faith, but i don't think that stops the fact that people are allowed to think what they do.

there have been times where i've tried to change people's minds on why i make specific stylistic choices, but i really should acknowledge that people will interpret it based on their own knowledge and experiences. i feel like i should bring this up because sometimes people don't necessarily see the true intent i want to convey or deliver in a song or my other artistic works, and that's probably for the best. maybe there simply isn't a definitive answer as to what something would truly mean, especially for something so abstract.

people should be allowed to create their own meaning out of the feelings they get from something, though obviously it would be much more appreciated if subjects were handled with more nuance and maturity. people can find their own happiness in their own ways. it's a hard concept to fully grasp, but when you actually slow down and look around... you'll realize that, that minor form of self-expression is a very beautiful thing.

i wrote all that down because this song really just, reminded me about how a song as beautifully written as this one exists in our reality. i personally have never fully played through any pokemon game, so playing gold/ silver/ crystal is out of the question. gameplay just never clicked with me, sorry.

but the thing about this song... or , well, the heartgold/ soulsilver arrange of this song just reminded me of a lot of the beauty in life, despite my suffering.

it's hard for me to have a long-distance relationship, but i am just about as happy as my boyfriend is for us forming a meaningful bond together. his opinions may come off as wacky and kooky and he may be a bit absent-minded; but deep down, i know he really cares a lot about the things he talks about. i've told him many times how unbearable it was watching him squabble with other people about their own opinions, but i still love him regardless. there are times when we respectfully disagree on things so it isn't so grim as i've written it out to be.

i just wished that people would take video games as an art form much more seriously, and when i came to talk to him about it, he agrees with me but simply says he can't do a lot to help the situation; i very much understand that. sometimes we all just have different opinions on things and while that may warrant unwanted conflicts, that's entirely fine.

i like to imagine national park as like, a place that people regularly go to in this universe (no i do not know what part of the pokemon world this is). i like to believe that we'd see different kinds of people here, thus the arrangement reflecting that fact added up with the commentary. you'd never know what you'd learn from other people. the more i appreciate people's perspectives, maybe the more happier i am. like with my boyfriend.

[gluion]

familiarity (it’s all sticky) ➵ lee seokmin

peter parker!lee seokmin x spiderman!reader

you’re not sure why you decide to show up at your ex’s place all wounded up from tonight’s battle.

genre/warnings ➵ exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, lowercase intended, ghost-spider au (though please don’t expect it to be accurate!), reader is obviously spiderman while dokyeom is peter parker i mean HELLO?? i am right, dokyeom is a lil a slob here, reader’s hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, based everything on google when it comes to patching up wounds omg, kissing fingertips, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering (let him take care of you)

word count ➵ 4k words

playlist ➵ nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake

a/n ➵ my svt writing debut <3 i thought this fic would also work really well for my silly dk and i wanted caratblr to have a chance to read this lil baby of mine <3 here's the original work if you're interested! and ofc, thank you to my cat @wuahae for betareading the original :’) you know how much i love you! don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!

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new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps,  the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.

but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.

as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.

you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead… 

you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.

you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.

you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.

but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.

pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of anime he swears to be the best of all time (which you agreed with), along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.

as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.

as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.

dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, dokyeom stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.  

“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say). 

somehow, the sight of dokyeom all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.

but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.

and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.

“oh god, you need that treated,” dokyeom’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.

it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.

“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.

“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”

you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”

dokyeom’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.

you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke. 

so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.

his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.

dokyeom finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”

and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have dokyeom be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.

so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.

“you don’t—”

you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.

you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.

a beat passes.

you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?

but when you open your eyes, dokyeom looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.

you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.

he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact.  “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of dokyeom whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.

“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.

at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. dokyeom curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.

you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.

you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.

“wait, wait! what are you doing?” dokyeom exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”

“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has dokyeom grip onto your arm tighter.

“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.

his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.

when your eyes flutter open, dokyeom crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.

as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?��

“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.

his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?

“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.

you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.

he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”

you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.

he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.

dokyeom stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.

it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does. 

dokyeom then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.

silence takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.

“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.

he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.

despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.

dokyeom walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.

but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.

as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.

you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of dokyeom. you let your soul mesh with his once more.

with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”

it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”

your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.

dokyeom spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.

but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?

that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with dokyeom.

“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”

he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.

but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.

you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”

as soon as your eyes go back to dokyeom, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”

and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, dokyeom was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?

“do i have to say it?” you ask.

and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”

so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.

“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.

“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”

and it clicks.

“n-no, dokyeom,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”

he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”

even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect dokyeom to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now. 

“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”

he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“i couldn’t care any less.”

you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, dokyeom. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”

because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where dokyeom’s death would be on your hands.

but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”

you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.

there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that dokyeom knew how to undo them even better than he did then.

and hearing dokyeom say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?

so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”

it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.

he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”

you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in dokyeom’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.

so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.

nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[writingduhh]

Being Jschlatts S/O Includes (Hc) …

Shout out to my @lvrj4mie for the amazing ideas ILY

▷ He’s very protective over you. Not in an unhealthy “you can’t leave” way, more of a “if anyone hurts you they’re dead” way.

▷ You have a drawer of your things at his place. After you began dating and practically spent every day at his house, he insisted that you keep a drawer of your belongings at his place.

▷ Receiving occasional bursts of affection from him. It's as if he can't contain his love and excitement, especially during those moments when he's feeling particularly affectionate. You could be sitting on the couch and he’ll just immediately smother you and attack your face with kisses… not that you mind.

▷ Definitely the Black Cat x Golden Retriever couple trope.

▷ Schlatt can be a chaotic and unpredictable character, but you're there to provide stability and calm in his life. You help balance his hectic lifestyle and remind him to take care of himself. You’re the calm in his storm.

▷ Despite his tough guy exterior, he's rather tender-hearted, especially when it comes to you.

▷ Spoils the shit out of you. Whatever you want he gets, even though you insist he doesn’t need to get you anything/you don’t want anything. He does it anyways.

▷ Introvert and Extrovert Balance. If Schlatt leans toward extroversion and you are more of an introvert (or vice Versa), you find a harmonious balance. He brings you out of your shell, and you provide him with moments of quiet reflection.

▷ Stealing his hoodies/shirts.

"Hey, toots, have you seen my..." Schlatt's words trailed off as he caught sight of you comfortably seated on the couch, wearing his oversized hoodie while engrossed in your game. Due to his substantial stature, his clothes practically swamped you, with sleeves rolled up twice for a better fit.

"Is that my hoodie?" he asked, a playful smirk on his face.

You nodded, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Yeah, it is. I can take it off if you don't want me to wear it."

He shook his head, a fond smile spreading across his face. "No, no, it's okay. You look good in my clothes." He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your neck.

▷ He has so many nicknames for you. Toots (obviously), sweetheart, babe, I could also definitely see him call his partner pet.

▷ Comfort in silence. Whether you’re watching him edit, gaming in the same room, or simply sitting together silently on the couch, you didn’t need words to communicate. There's a comfortable silence that speaks volumes about your connection and comfort with each other.

▷ His cats absolutely ADORE you… Maybe more than him.

▷ Late night food runs. Due to the nature of his job, Schlatt has a lot of late nights editing videos or planning future projects. On those particularly stressful nights, which is often, you like to suggest a late night food run to clear his mind. He always agrees as it’s an excuse to spend some quality time with you… and get food.

▷ You shamelessly tease him in a playful manner, fully aware that you can get away with it.

▷ Contrary to popular opinion I think he’s quite affectionate, at least behind closed doors. He’s always got a hand on your thigh, laying on your chest, or some sort of touch.

▷ You’re definitely ‘Those pet parents’ with Jambo and Burnt soup. They’re basically like your children, making you the perfect happy family.

[xogiulianna]

PLAYING DANGEROUS

you want to try something new - so you turn to your best friend, chris, for help.

contains : slapping, choking, masturbation, slight dacryphilia

you're not sure why you were so susceptible to these urges, but they were strong and distracting, occupying your thoughts constantly.

they got so intrusive that it came to a point where you couldn't act normal, not even around one of your closest friends.

you were over at the triplets' house one friday night, per usual, watching a movie with chris.

he had already begun interrupting the film after merely ten minutes of watching, just because he wanted to ramble about his 'bright' idea of having a pillow fight, like how it happens in the cliché movie sleepovers.

eventually, you agreed, just to shut him up.

your fight started out normal, the living room filled with the sound of laughter and pillows thudding against bodies.

after a few strikes, you have a moment of weakness. your arms had already gotten tired from hitting chris constantly, while simultaneously trying to dodge his attacks.

taking advantage of your weariness, chris rips your pillow out of your grasp, tossing it onto the floor, too far away for you to reach.

"not fair!" you exclaim, trying to scramble past chris to retrieve your weapon, but he lightly shoves your shoulder, pushing you down into the corner of the couch.

"got ya," he chuckles, smiling down at you devilishly as he kneels above you, his arm retracting behind him with the pillow clutched in his hand.

not wanting to get hit in the face, you quickly reach out and yank the cushion out of his hand and down into your lap - just as he begins to bring his arm down in the direction of your head.

a crack echoes throughout the room, the noise bouncing off the walls and making your mind spin.

"oh, my god- no, fuck, are you okay?"

your head is knocked to the side, a fiery stinging sensation exploding across your cheek, every nerve ending in your face tingling with raw pain.

"shit.. hey, look at me, i’m so sorry.."

you sit frozen in shock, forcing your eyes open after you wired them shut on impact.

"let me see.."

wincing slightly at the gentle touch of chris’s hand on your face, your eyes shift over to him. his expression is etched with worry as he examines the red blotch blooming across your cheek where his hand had struck you.

"damn it, kid. it was an accident.. only meant for the pillow to hit you, i swear."

a wave of humiliation washes over you notice that your eyes have gotten all watery from the sheer impact and intensity of the shock that coursed through your body.

"come on, don't cry." chris murmurs softly, his eyes flitting across your features.

you sniffle, shaking your head and snapping yourself out of the dazed state you were enveloped in.

"no, chris, stop." you say, shoving past him and getting up off the couch. "it's fine."

ignoring his persuasions to come back, you quickly rush down the hall to the bathroom, shutting yourself in. you stare back at your reflection in the mirror, bringing your fingertips up to lightly graze the sensitive mark on your cheek.

in the small room, you feel suffocated. all of the emotions and feelings you’re experiencing at once are weighing down on your shoulders, making your brain feel fuzzy.

you feel hurt, obviously - chris is pretty strong. naturally, your face is still irritated from the blow he landed on your skin.

however - you're sure that chris would never do something like this on purpose, you can tell by the way he was so quick to become completely apologetic, inspecting the damage he’d done.

this.. made you frustrated.

deep down, something’s burning inside you, something filthy, something you want to indulge in.

your gaze is fixated on yourself in the mirror, analyzing your red face and your heaving chest as you inhale shallow, labored breaths.

you try to ignore the heat pooled in your stomach. you didn’t want to like this.

chris is your best friend, and he’s good looking, you knew that, but you’ve never had any sexual feelings towards him. plus, it was an accident.

so why is your body practically trembling with want? with the need for more?

it’s been several days since last friday. you’ve been ignoring chris’ texts and calls. you left him to assume that you were just angry with him for hitting you - and part of you truly was infuriated, because if he hadn’t done that, you’d have been able to focus on anything else except the incident.

you finally gave in after chris started forcing his two brothers to start texting you, checking up on you, asking you to come over.

upon arriving at his house, just seeing his face when he opened the door reminded you of your darkest desires, making you silently curse yourself for having no willpower anymore.

chris notices your demeanor, asks you what’s wrong, and you panic. you immediately usher him into his bedroom, wanting to avoid the lingering presences of nick and matt throughout the house.

"kid- what’re you doin'?" chris grumbles as you shove him through the doorway, closing you two in the room with a slam of the door. "i told you, im real sorry, i didn’t mean to hit you-"

"chris, just shut up for a second," you snap. he’s apologized numerous times, you knew he was sorry, you knew that he felt bad.

but you didn’t want him to feel like that.

you didn’t want him to be apologetic, because the ugly truth is that you liked it. you wanted to experience the sensation again, properly.

chris is just standing and staring at you, face twisted into utter confusion. you’ve never seriously lost your temper with him before.

"i’m not mad at you," you clarify, sighing and walking over to sit yourself down on his bed.

"okay.." chris says carefully, sitting down with you, the edge of the mattress dipping underneath his weight. "then what’s got you acting like this?"

you pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. you can hardly believe what you’re about to say, but you just can’t keep it a secret.

you and chris don’t lie to each other; however, you don’t normally get serious like this. everything is lighthearted between you two - making this situation all the more stressful.

"promise me.." you speak hesitantly. "if i tell you, that you won’t get weirded out?"

chris quickly shakes his head, his interest piqued even further. "no, i promise. y’can tell me anything."

exhaling another long sigh, you fight an entire war in your mind in the span of a few seconds. heat crawls up your neck, the walls feeling like they’ll close in around you if you don’t speak up. just say it. just tell him.

"i can’t stop thinking about how it felt."

"what?" chris’ brows drop, his eyes scrutinizing you. you look down, trying to hide the red tint spreading across your cheeks. your eyes fixate firmly on your lap as you toy with the hem of your shirt.

"what do you mean?" chris questions. your pulse rings in your ears, each thump of your heart making your torso twitch.

"i mean, it made me.." your breathing becomes shallow, your voice struggling to speak your mind as the words crumble in your mouth.

forcing yourself to look up at him, you make yourself spit the words out.

"i want you to do it again."

chris' lips part, his eyes darkening. "nah, you’re messin' with me. that isn’t funny." he rasps.

you shake your head. "i’m not, chris. i swear."

"that's crazy, i don't.." he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "you’re killin’ me here, i.. i’m not gonna hit y-"

"please," you whisper, cutting his rejection off. "i just need to feel it one more time."

chris' fingers twitch, his tongue running across the inside of his cheek. he stares blankly at you for a moment, making you want to melt into his bed and disappear forever.

just as you're about to take everything back - tell him to just forget about it and rush out of his room, he reaches out towards you.

grabbing your chin in one hand, he coaxes you to lean back on his bed, giving your shoulder a gentle push with his other hand. his knee comes to settle between your legs, his body slanted towards yours.

"you're playin' dangerous, you know that?" chris growls, moving his thumb to brush across your cheek, right over the same spot he landed the accidental blow just days ago. "you’re really askin' me to hurt you?"

you only nod in response, staring up at him - seeing your best friend in a completely new light. noticing lust in his eyes for the first time, it made you question everything.

"nah," he smirks, shaking his head. "need you to tell me how bad you want it. lemme hear you."

you were starstuck by his words, his low voice echoing in your mind and bouncing off your bones, sending electric shocks through your body.

"chris, i- we don't have to.." you breathe out, the situation suddenly feeling a little too real.

"mm-mm," he hums teasingly. "you got yourself into this, doll." he trails his hand down to your throat, wrapping his fingers around your throat, but not quite squeezing. "go on, tell me what you want from me."

"i.." you swallow harshly, eyes wildly searching chris' face as your pupils become swallowed in black, giving away your desire immediately. "i want you to.."

"c'mon, you said you’ve been thinkin' about it, so tell me. use your words." he says, his voice dripping with poison.

"want you to hit me," you mutter. "i just.. please, chris?"

"fuckin’ pathetic," chris laughs, rolling his eyes before suddenly lifting his hand, his open palm connecting with your cheek so hard it feels like your brain rattled in your skull.

he grins at your startled reaction, the way you’re looking at him him with such a desperate expression - it only spurs him on. you barely register the pain spreading across your skin, you’re too enamored by this new version of chris.

"this what you wanted?" he asks, his tone unforgiving as his hand tightens around your neck. "want me to rough you up a lil' bit, huh?”

you snag your lip inbetween your teeth, biting down hard as you nod, whining in the back of your throat. your insides feel like they’re on fire, your thighs squeezing together as you anticipate the next hit.

"who knew you were such a slut?" he hisses, striking your face harder the second time - earning a moan out of you.

"oh my god," you whimper, your face colliding with the pillow you’re laying on from the impact of the second hit.

the lower half of your body shifts uncomfortably, the aching between your thighs becoming so intense that it’s clouding your brain. your jaw clenches bitterly.

chris notices how you’re trying to press your legs together, a groan rumbling in his chest. "god.. how fuckin' wet are you right now?" he snarls.

your skin is burning hot with embarrassment, and having to admit how turned on you are only makes it worse. you’re too flustered at this point to actually say anything, so you decide to visually tell him.

with shaky hands, you find the waistband of your sweatpants, lifting up your hips to tug them halfway down your thighs, not even bothering to get them fully off. chris drinks in the sight of you with hunger, his gaze landing on the wet area of your panties where your arousal has soaked through.

"fuck, you really like this." he whispers ardently, slipping his hand between your legs. his touch is feather-light as he brushes his fingertips up your inner thighs and across your clothed pussy. you shudder, a soft whine slipping out of your throat, strangled by chris' film hold on your neck.

"show me." he mutters.

"what?" you choke out, squirming under his piercing stare.

"wanna see just how much you're enjoying it when i hit you." he says, hooking a finger in your underwear. he tugs them down in one harsh motion, eliciting a gasp from you. "touch yourself." he orders, his tone hushed.

tossing aside all your dignity, you skate your fingers down your stomach and to your core, plunging into your slick folds. staring up at chris apprehensively, you rub slow circles on your clit, fingertips soaked by your own juices.

"so eager to listen to me, huh?" he quips, releasing his hold on your neck to cradle your face securely instead. his other hand travels to your hip and obtains a bruising grip on your body, holding you still.

you start to moan while stimulating yourself, but the noise is cut short by another smack. then another, and another - each one making you even more aroused than the last.

"chris," you cry out, your back arching up off the bed. your fingers start aching as you uncontrollably increase your pace, touching yourself with an intense fervor. the right side of your face burns with the building pain of each hit, making your eyes flood with tears.

"too much?" he murmurs, grabbing your face and inspecting the pretty red color blossoming across the area he's been targeting. "you're cryin', kid." he licks his lips, watching as a droplet slips down the side of your face, dripping into your hair.

"no, it's so good- i.." you whisper urgently, your voice shaky and breathless. "keep.. keep going, m'gonna finish already.."

"good," chris purrs, gently stroking your cheek, watching you writhe beneath him for a few moments before giving the same amount of attention to the other side of your face - backhanding your left cheek, his knuckles clashing with your supple skin.

his dick twitches in his boxers at the sight of plump tears gliding down your scarlet cheeks.

"oh, my- fuck!" you mewl, your face screwing up in pure euphoria as the twisted knot in your lower stomach tensing, your abdomen tensing as you start to mentally rip apart at the seams.

"that's it," chris hisses. "cum on your fingers f'me, dirty girl." he hovers over you, threading one hand in your hair as he lands a final hit across your face right as you climax. your body convulses while an animalistic groan is ripped from your throat, turning into a breathy whine. your release leaks out from your entrance, soaking your fingers and dripping down to the bedsheets.

you collapse into a flushed, gasping mess against chris' bed, your eyes pinched shut in euphoria. your pussy throbs, your whole body feeling extra sensitive after your mind-bending orgasm.

once the moment is over, it's like chris reverts back into a friend instead of - whatever role he was just playing.

"uh, shit." he murmurs, pushing himself off the bed, wincing as it finally registers that he has a painful erection that's formed in his pants. "yeah- stay here, um, let me.." he trails off, rushing out of his bedroom.

he wants to get you an icepack - but if his brothers saw him retrieving it, they'd probably question him about it. he settles for a cloth soaked with cold water for your face, and a separate one to clean up the mess you made.

returning to his room, he fights back a groan at the downright goddess-esque state he left you in - half dressed, laying limp on the bed with a thin layer of sweat coating your flushed skin, your hair frizzy and splayed out across his pillows.

"here," he offers the cold cloth to you, swallowing thickly as he sits on the edge of the bed and gently cleans the slick coating your folds and the insides of your thighs. you press the chilly, damp material to your stinging face, sighing shakily at the stark contrasting sensation. you allow chris to take care of you, his movements slow and tender as he pulls your underwear and sweatpants back up to cover yourself.

"thank you," you murmur, silently paying that the uneasiness of this odd situation won't affect your friendship negatively.

"yeah, no problem," chris responds softly, moving himself up the bed to lay down next to you. "next time you wanna try somethin', don't wait so long, 'kay?" he asks, a grin crossing his lips.

"next time?" you question, your brows quirking as you look over at him.

"well," he chuckles. "after seein' you like that.. i don't think i can just let this be a one-time thing."

a/n : this took me forever omg i haven't tried writing anything like this before !! i'm sorry if there's any mistakes or parts that don't really make sense. i hope this is sufficient for the sturniolo fans hahah all their writers on here are so so amazing

xo giulia

[rei-ismyname]

Let's talk R-LDS

R-LDS or Resurrection-Linked Degenerative Sickness was alluded to in X-Men #4 and the Infinity Comics before being named in X-Men #7. We're told that Magneto has it and it's directly caused by Krakoan resurrection/The Five, kinda.

Here's Beast doing some alluding.

In the panels above, we learn that Hank McCoy is the only one working on the problem - the problem being Magneto's loss of his powers and his body breaking down rapidly - his very chromosomes unraveling. He seems quite sure that it could happen to 'any of us' though the lack of quarantine suggests it's not contagious.

The next bit of information we receive is from Magneto and Scott in conversation, reflecting on The Iron Night. They took down a wild sentinel that was attacking the town and Mags lost control over his powers immediately after, requiring Scott to knock him out for safety's sake. Scott is no scientist, and while Magneto is a genius polymath autodidact (with plenty of experience in genetics) it's not a character trait that's seen focus lately. Thus, I'm assuming they're discussing it as amateurs and as patient zero in Magneto's case.

Magneto confidently names the condition for the first time as well as using an acronym for it, suggesting it's confirmed to exist, he's had a positive diagnosis, and they're using the term enough to require shorthand. He even spells out the subtext for us - it was a hidden flaw in Krakoan resurrection. I'll come back to that notion. Scott says 'we don't know that for sure,' implying that R-LDS is just a theory or speculation, which Mags doesn't directly refute. Instead he lays out the worst case scenario. They can't both be right here, so what's the deal? Magneto's symptoms are obviously confirmed, but how did they get from there to here?

If Magneto is the first and only person affected by his condition, why are he and Beast so sure about its providence and everyone being in danger? How could they possibly link it to Krakoan resurrection? I'm no scientist but I do know that there's only so much you can conclude from a single data point. Magneto was indeed only resurrected by the Five once, but he died again after that on Arakko (X-Men Red #7). The body he's in came out of a portal from Overspace in Adam Brashear's underwater base (Resurrection of Magneto #3.) His body suffering a condition borne of something that happened to a different body doesn't make sense. Considering he's the only person to return to life that way AND the only one allegedly with R-LDS, that would be the place to start for Beast's sciencing.

There he is, good as new.

Word of God

In a recent AIPT interview, Tom Brevoort removed any ambiguity and just straight up confirmed it. With the caveat that his recent X-history knowledge seems pretty poor, he is the de jure ultimate authority on the matter. I don't agree with that, and not just because I don't respect him as a creator. This habit of on-panel ambiguity and editorialising in interviews is vexing.

It's especially vexing when he contradicts himself. He counterpoints his own information with some of what I just pointed out, but the fact that they've made a list of who was and wasn't resurrected suggests R-LDS is a plot point they're committed to. I have to wonder why he bothered giving a detailed answer to this question if it's 'yes,' then 'maybe', then 'it will definitely be a thing you'll see as we progress.' Saying all of that and then ending with 'we know very little so far' really makes me wonder what he's thinking. Tom Brevoort could have given his usual cagey answer about not wanting to spoil anything, but he didn't here. I'm saving most of my Brevoort-specific criticism for a separate piece, but this glib and irreverent tone is typical of his commentary - even managing a light jab at Jordan D White.

Frankly, I think it's a graceless and cynical development. There are so many character beats, mistakes, and conflicts to use from the First Krakoan Age that choosing to create R-LDS feels like a shot at the core of hopefulness and creativity that blew our socks off in 2019.

HoxPoX

House of X/Powers of X was hopeful and magical. After a decade plus of endless misery and genocides, dull stories and bizarre characterisation, for once mutants got a W. The ability to use mutants working together to right the horrendous wrongs they'd suffered was central to that - the power of community and cooperation. What they built wasn't perfect but The Five was something they got right.

What would possess someone to take the cornerstone of the greatest X-Men story of all time (don't @ me) and try to tear it down? Remember, when the dust settled we ended up in Moira X life 10E. In 10A, the original Krakoan experiment, the mutants won! They thrived and protected what was theirs against Dominions. It took a literal apex AI God existing outside of space and time directly opposing them to fail. Enigma, on the back foot, sent Omega Sentinel through time to start ORCHIS years early and ensure Krakoa's collapse. Am I to believe 'no, sorry. That was a dead end?'

Haven't we been here before?

We've had mutants suffer from the Legacy Virus and M-Pox already, and I might even be missing other examples of nebulous diseases that threatened to wipe out all mutants. Obviously it's the prerogative of the X-Office to use whatever plot points they want, but do we really have to do this again? There are plenty of ways to sideline Magneto as a combatant that don't require repackaging old storylines. We've even had Hank McCoy decades behind the curve desperately trying to catch up before - in All-New All-Different X-Men.

Small World

Defenders-era Hank McCoy might be the worst possible 616 scientist to tackle this problem. He's literally decades behind the science curve and doesn't have the experience in dealing with anything like this. He's not the same guy that worked on M-Pox or the Legacy Virus. He never set foot on Krakoa and has never met any of the Five. We don't know how much data was recorded or kept from The Five but Beast may not have access to it.

Why isn't he talking to Cecilia Reyes, Forge, Jean Grey, Reed Richards, Doctor Strange, Adam Brashear, Healer, Doctor Nemesis? Even doctor dickhead that extorted Storm has the ability to instantly diagnose anyone. It makes the world feel tiny, and when you're following an era of interconnectedness that's just so disappointing. Portraying him as supremely concerned about 'all of us being ticking time bombs' rings hollow if he's working on it solo. Hank McCoy has always had a sense of arrogance where his scientific ability is concerned but not to this degree. Look at the guy! He's hating the stress he's under.

Sins of Sinister and the White Hot Room

I have to wonder if the implications of linking Magneto's illness to The Five's resurrection have been fully considered. The Sins of Sinister timeline ran for a millennium with the Five resurrecting on an industrial scale. Rasputin IV would have noticed, or the Quiet Council. The mutants left behind in the White Hot Room in RotPox spent 15 years bringing back ALL the dead mutants. That's 16 million, minimum. 15 years is less than a thousand but it's still longer than the First Krakoan Age, several times over. Nobody noticed anything? Elixir, member of the Five and Omega biokinetic, with his unlimited mastery of DNA didn't notice anything? Destiny didn't see mutants falling apart? Sounds dubious as hell to me.

Towards the end of the era many humans were resurrected too. 5% of the Five's work was set aside for bringing back poor children etc through the Phoenix Foundation. Steve Rogers was resurrected into his current body on Judgement Day. I am extremely skeptical that this has been considered, and in Steve's case whether the X-Office can even use him.

Conclusion

Magneto's physical degradation has been swift. Here he is in Uncanny X-Men #700, implied to be at most 6 months before X-Men #1. I think I've demonstrated that the concept is nonsensical and to reiterate, I think it's a terrible narrative choice. If I'm being generous, it'll be interesting to see if they can explain R-LDS in a way that makes sense - if they can do something new and interesting with a tired concept. There's only been one issue since it was introduced, so perhaps I'm jumping the gun on breaking it down. Let's check back in 6 months.

What do you think of R-LDS? Do you think my reasoning is sound? As always, I'd love to hear what other fans think.

[erabu-san]

You are literally French. What would you know about any of this, an issue and drama stirred up by anericans.

Blackwashing exists and is used by bigots that hate white people. Its used to erase the ethnicity of asians just because people dont think they are "poc enough" because of their pale skin. Its used to demonize people with pale skin because its becoming more and more the norm to view anyone with pale skin as evil. That anyone who is "too pale" isnt enough or a human being.

They arent real people, and their skintones are fine as is. You wouldnt go up to, for example an albino or mixed race black/poc person and tell them they arent "dark enough". They dont even need to be special like that to be pale. Some just are pale.

Whether you think there should be more characters that are dark or not is not the issue. Its that you think they wouldnt be/arent good enough as is with pale skin that shows how much of a bigot you are.

Blackwashing is not the progressive act you think it is. Its obvious that your only experience with it is through genshin drama. You obviously know nothing about how much red haired pale characters & asian ones are substituted with black characters. How characters are simply replaced in the name of "diversity". How this forced inclusivity and diversity is just bigots trying to "get revenge" on the white people they hate so much, and to tick off DEI boxes on their little bigoted checklist.

You tell me to educate myself but its actually YOU who needs to be educated.

Many are complaining about sumeru and natlan characters with names similar to gods in cultures of our world that are pale when their inspiration is dark skinned. Claiming they want representation and for it to be accurate, to reflect our world on a 1-1 scale.

Yet these same people will make xiao, zhongli, Ei, and many more asian characters darker " because asians can be dark skinned too". Yet so can mostly dark skinned races be pale.

So why cant you (gen) respect such characters, who are gods and divine beings based on a culture where pale is more beautiful, and gods of such cultures are pale?

There is hypocrisy in everything to do with blackwashing. Its okay when its done to pale characters because in real life black people have been oppressed? But these characters are not real, nor are they a reflection of our reality, as far as we have seen they dont even have racism in this fictional world.

It is one thing to explore a character like with the recent hatsune miku trend, atleast there most people arent going at each other's throats saying black miku is better than japanese miku(as far as i have seen)

Seriously how can you even begin to justify this. And who ever told you that dark skinned characters "scare white people" is an absolute fucking liar trying to justify their own bigotry towards white people.

No black washing IS just as disgusting as whitewashing. Neither should exist, and you shouldn't feed into the stupid circle jerk of bigotry that both of them are.

Aaaah that's what I like ! Yes ! Thank you for telling me your opinion, explaining what is wrong. I absolutely love to learn, and I prefer to read this long text calling me ignorant and explaining why that just a simple text of you saying you are annoyed by a fanart.

Thank you for telling me ! First yes I am french, and indeed my culture has more an european pov. But again, I also grow up as a minority "race" with my parents culture !🙏 in france, i don't look like a french. Well. Still I am aware that it doesn't remove anything from what I said

And I totally agree with you, some are just pale !! It just happens I draw Kinich black because I like it like this. Is Kinich true inspiration are actually pale ? Tell me more, I wish to learn !!

Tbh when you talk abt gods being pale is beautiful, I thought about Nahida. I did research when she were out and yes, I do agree, there is character who are fine as they are.

And because I live in France I also see "dark skin scare white" as a true fact. It happens and it is harmful. 🧍 not only in France tho, in country where pale skin is portrayed as beautiful, people who have tan skin are less represented even if it is the majority. I suppose the contrary happens too !!

"Character are not real" and yet you are annoyed, I guess it is the action of "blackwash" that make you mad, more than "a fictional character w diffent skin tone" tho! My opinion is fiction does affect real world, as do real life affects fiction, and this is something I won't debate on

"They don't have racism in this fictional world" sorry but it does in Sumeru. 🙏 about this one npc she is reject by forest and desert because of them being mixed, desert not being access to book and even Cyno said his scholarship was complicated because he is from desert

If you wish to continue, please send me DM with arguments. I don't know if I would change my mind of not drawing Kinich pale, but I am super interested about what you have to say !! 👍👍