#I wish I didn’t read the book/watch the series at all cause now I have an opinion about it and the stuff on the fandom I see

[0silver0dreams0]

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader

Summarised: (your name) died in a horrific way, but she has been reborn in a new world, where the body she is trapped in is (your name) Targaryen, daughter of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, who took her own life after the death of her dear sister Helaena, who was very close to her.

Warning: This story contains descriptions of sexual violence and vulgar language, a small change of ages of the characters to make more sense.

Author's note: English is not my first language, please let me know so I can correct them.

You just want to relax at least one second or two, maybe end that series or read that special book. Being at university was tough but it was even tougher having a job too in a bar, where if a man showed even a minor interest in you will go he would comein you direction, visibly drunk, smelly and disgusting putting money in your uniform and saying obscenities. Some would just go and leave you alone if you were lucky, but others would try to follow you or even try to touch you, but you always managed to get away and escape them. But is seems that this time, you didn't. Now you were pulled into a lonely alley, next to the trash, with an obviously drunk man, with ginger hair, horrible teeth and a foul smell he gave you a ten-dollar tip but now he was trying to take your clothes off. Fighting and fighting, that's the only thing you could do, and the worst of all you just DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. How to getting yourself out of this situation? He was stronger and bigger than you, he had already taken you underwear off under your skirt until he freed one hand to unzip his jeans, so you put your only free hand in his eye, pressing as hard you could and with rage.

"Ahh! bloody bitch!"

When he let you go, you ran as fast you could, but he grabbed your ankle, causing you to hit your head. You felt dizzy, numb, and you couldn't move your body. Plus your vision was lost; you could only see the little mark on the wall, a dragon with more than one head or at least you thought could see.

"Hey! Get up! I'm not playing! GET UP, BITCH!"

You just heard him, you wished, you really wished that you could get up, but you couldn't. You felt water around your head and neck, but you could see now, it was not water, it was blood, your blood. Now it was cold or at least it was for you, and it was catching you, cold, and colder you felt. that bastard haad gone already, leaving you there, alone, cold, and without underwear. Maybe is a good idea to take a nap, isn't it? Maybe in the morning everything will be better, just maybe.

When you wake up, you are in your crib, hungry, and alone, so you did the only thing you could: you cried.

"What is wrong now,dear?" A woman came up, your mother, "You are hungry, right?" your mother look at you with a soft smile, taking out her breast, she gently brushed your hair as you fed.

You are her little baby, her replica. She wasn’t going to use you like she did with your brothers; you would have freedom in this harsh world, she often thought about your future. But one thing was certain: you weren’t going anywhere from her side. Before she could think of anything else. She left you in your crib, your stomach already full. Even though her other sons wasn’t like you, she loved them. It’s just that you were like her—you have her hair, her nose, her cheeks, and even her smile. You only have your big purple eyes, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were another piece of her.

Even though she didn’t like to admit it, you were her favourite. And even if she never said it, it was obvious to everyone. She fed you herself; you didn’t have a wet nurse like your siblings. She knew that, apart from Rhaenyra, you were the second favourite of the king, her husband. And then there was your sister Helaena, always watching you with her curious eyes, who was only one year older than you. As for Aegon, well, he would always be Aegon—jealous of all the attention and love you received. Of course, he loved you, but why? Why did you receive so much attention and affection? He felt like he had to beg for even a little, as if he didn’t have a grain of love, as if he wasn’t special.

A while later that night, the doors opened, letting in your dear father, followed by someone behind him—your older sister, Rhaenyra. With a smile on his lips and without greeting anyone, not even his wife, he went straight to your crib.

"How is the little one? It seems she’s resting just fine," he said, touching your cheek lovingly. "Everything is fine; she just needs her space, Your Grace," Alicent responded, her voice tense. "She looks like you, but I can feel the dragon inside her," said Rhaenyra, gazing down at you beside her father. "Yes, but I really need the two of you to go. She’s already asleep, and I don’t want anyone disturbing her and—" before the Queen could finish, Rhaenyra interrupted. "We aren’t making any noise. Just five minutes won’t hurt, being by her side."

"Please, Alicent, she’s just a baby. She doesn’t need space; we can stay here with her," the King responded, a touch of obviousness in his voice. "As you command, Your Grace," Alicent replied.

The only thing Alicent could do in that moment was clench her fists behind her back and bite the inside of her cheek, merely watching as her husband and Rhaenyra hovered over your crib, oblivious to the tension and rage on her face. You stirred lightly in your sleep, unaware of the silent battle above you.

"You’ll see, my Queen, she’ll be like me—like a dragon, big and strong," Rhaenyra said softly, her voice filled with affection as she gazed at you.

Alicent’s eyes narrowed, her frustration growing with each word Rhaenyra spoke about you and herself. How dare she compare herself to my daughter? Alicent thought bitterly. And how dare they act as if they know what’s best for her? You were her child, and you would never be like Rhaenyra, bearing bastards and shaming the name and duty of your house.

"Yes, she’ll be strong. But now, let’s leave her to rest. It’s late, and we don’t want to wake her," the King said, turning to Alicent. "Thank you, my dear. You’ve done well."

Alicent bowed her head, the polite gesture hiding her fury. "Of course, Your Grace."

As they turned to leave, Alicent stood by your crib, just the two of you once more, her mind racing. She would protect you, no matter what. You were her baby.

The next morning Alicent was awaken by the maids, who prepare her for the day, when she came back in her room were you were before, your crib was empty. Scared call one of the maids

"Where's my daughter?!" She asked with anxiety and tension clear in his voice. "I'm not sure, my Queen. I'll find out right away."

While the maid was gone, Alicent’s anxiety grew. She rushed out of the room, determined to find her daughter. Who dared take her baby away from her protection?

She searched everywhere, her worry mounting with each passing moment. It wasn’t until she reached the garden that she finally saw you—her little baby girl—in the arms of Rhaenyra, walking through the garden with her illegitimate sons, as if nothing had happened,as if they had just stolen her baby.

"How dare you?!" Alicent's pace quickened as she moved to take you into her arms. Before she could reach you, Rhaenyra stepped aside, still carrying you, blocking Alicent’s path.

“We were just taking a walk. She looked so bored and alone in her room, so I thought it would be nice for her to get a little sun,” Rhaenyra explained, gently brushing the little bit of hair you had.

“She’s not yours to decide that! She is my dau—” Alicent began, but before she could continue, Viserys cut her off. “Alicent! Stop right now. She is my daughter too, and I think it’s a good idea that she spends time with her sister and nephews.”

Defedent Alicent just look the little smirk that Rhaenyra gave her. Rhaenyra triumphantly thanked her father, and walked away with you and her little toddlers.

How could she protect you when you had been taken from her side so easily? Why did no one listen to her about what she wanted for her baby? Why was everyone so ignorant?

While Rhaenyra was just happy, feeling she had won against Alicent for you, her little sister, she imagined everything would be better if you were her daughter, her little baby. But Alicent always seemed to step in the way. Soon, you and Rhaenyra would be inseparable. Perhaps you could marry one of her sons, and in that way, you would be with her forever. She envisioned herself as your mother, but ultimately, she would be your mother, no matter what—regardless of Alicent’s rants or even your brothers.

Pt. 2 >> (coming soon)

Author's note: (your name) doesn’t know what will happen to everyone or what will happen to her in the other world.

[to-fly-with-clipped-wings]

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Pairing: Harry Potter x Chosen One! Reader

‘“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing outta your sewage-system of a mouth.” Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.” “Same goes for you.”’ OR: in which you hitch a ride on the Hogwarts Express and buckle up for one hell of a ride. → Set in a universe where you are the chosen one, and Harry Potter is your best friend who tries to help you navigate the woes of being the lone hero of the wizarding world. A swap au where you are the chosen one, your parents are dead but the marauders + Lily are not. Eventual Harry x Reader, slowburn, friends to lovers. Series Masterlist

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡  　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

Perhaps, if you had any less self-respect, having had a mental breakdown on the King’s Cross platform would have been your morning on the 1st of September.

The train leaves at eleven, Hagrid had told you. The Caddels had dropped you off at the station at half past ten before leaving to drop Odette off at her new school, Smeltings, they’d said. All you were really aware of was the nifty cane that came with the uniform, supposedly used to thwack fellow peers. An excellent training for later life.

Regardless of peculiar apparels or uniforms – you had now acquired a steadily rising fear that you would never be able to wear your own, if you couldn’t uncover where exactly platform nine and three-quarters was located at the station. 

There they were, right in front of you, platforms nine and ten – right there – but nowhere could you spot any semblance or notion of anything three-quarters related. The large plastic number nine leered tauntingly at you, swinging back and forth vaguely with the passing breeze.

You had pestered the guard manning the station. He hadn’t even heard of Hogwarts, and since you had no flying clue where or even what the school was, you couldn’t describe it to him. The guard stared at you incredulously, as though you were deliberately trying to be stupid (you didn’t miss how he eyed Hedwig, your owl, who chirped irritably back at him). It took every ounce of your remaining willpower to not snap or lunge at him and cause a scene in the middle of the station, especially when a congregation of people had formed a circle around you to observe the exchange curiously.

Apparently, according to a variety of people at the station, there wasn’t even a train that left at eleven o’clock. And, though it was obvious, platform nine and three-quarters completely did not exist. Like, at all. And to top the cherry on your fabulous sundae of anxiety and chagrin, according to the large clock situated on the arrivals board, you had a little under fifteen minutes to be seated on the train. 

You wished Hagrid had left you with more information, but when the man had dropped you back at your house and allowed you the time to blink, he had vanished. Urgent magical business, you mused dryly. Almost like the kerfuffle of being stranded on a station with not the foggiest idea of where to go. 

Were you missing something? Did you need to cast a spell? What if you missed the train? Oh, you knew you should have read the books before coming to the station. You swore at that moment to leave no page in your spell-books unturned (in hindsight, you knew you would drop this vow three days in).

Just as you were preparing to brandish your wand at the stray ticket box next to platform nine, trying your very best to formulate a spell that would divulge the presence of platform nine and three-quarters. 

In a perfectly timed turn of events, a group of people passed behind you, and you managed to glean a glimpse of their conversation.

“ – packed with Muggles, of course –

You heard your neck crack from how fast you wheeled around. Muggles. You had never been happier to hear a single word. The speaker was a stout woman, to an audience of about five red-headed children. Four boys and a girl, who from the conversation that ensued, you discovered was too young to attend Hogwarts just yet. 

You trained your eyes on them like a hawk, shadowing ‘Percy’, the oldest boy, as he dashed toward the brick wall of platform nine, pushing his trolley along with him. Wincing, you closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see him and all of his school supplies crash onto the floor. 

Miraculously, however, when you peeled your eyelids back open, the boy was gone. As were the twin brothers, Fred and George (or did their mother say George and Fred?). 

There was only one more boy left; a tall – though that entire family seemed to be on stilts – lanky, deeply freckled one. If you wanted to know where the sons were disappearing to, this was your final shot.

“Hey!” you called out, dragging your trolley behind you as you approached the remaining members of the red-headed family. Then, realising how the abruptness of a random girl yelling at someone may be perceived as abrash, you decided to dial back your advances. “Hi, sorry. Do you happen to know how to –” “How to get on to the platform?” she said kindly. “No worries at all, dear. Is this your first time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” 

She pointed at her last son. He had dirt on his nose. You nodded your head slightly toward him in greeting, but your mind was still hyper focused on how the clock was dwindling closer and closer to eleven. “Pleasure,” you smiled, desperation beginning to blemish your voice, evident as it began to inch one or two octaves higher. “So, er, I’m hoping that you do know how to get to the train?” “That’s right,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Go on, go now before Ron.”

You ruffled the collar of your shirt, which was looking far too neat and sophisticated (and therefore, not nearly as charming as you preferred it to be). “Thanks, Miss.” 

You sucked in a deep breath before gathering your courage and sprinted toward the very solid, opaque looking barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. 

You were running — running like a lunatic, might you add, when you realised you were almost there — and then, quite suddenly, you weren’t. 

Rather, you now found yourself underneath a sign that read Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock.

Permeating through a brick wall was yet another box to check from your list of magical experiences. Twice, actually, if you counted the entrance to Diagon Alley. Odd was it indeed, but it was your odd now, and you lest would allow anyone try and rob you of it. 

You stood in awe, head on a swivel as you examined the new environment. A mammoth of a train, one whose size could only be attributed to the slight of one’s magical hand, with smoke seeping out of its charcoal chimneys, stood tall against the crowded stage of the station. 

You turned around to see if the red-headed family had made it through as well, and sure enough, there they were. The woman was still looking at you, and when you waved at her, her face split into a soft smile as she returned the gesture. You swept your dishevelled hair to the side – it had tousled itself into a heaping mess sometime during your episode on the other side of the train station. 

You only registered the consequence of this action when the red-headed woman’s eyes widened, and as an abrupt muteness circulated throughout the platform, capitulating the vocal cords of what seemed to be every single man, woman and/or child present there at that very moment. 

Families that were once bidding their children goodbye, lovingly caressing cheeks or smoothing down fly-away hairs, or families who were once loading trunks onto compartments, were now reacting in an identical fashion of the same scene that had transpired at the leaky pub; normal chatter was extinguished, and murmurs crept around the platform like an amateur thief in a treasure trove.

“The lightning scar!”

“Is that – oh, my sweet Merlin, it is!” “Oh – where –?!”

“Move! Let me get a glimpse!”

“Look, over there!”

“(Y/n) (L/n)!”

You stiffened under everyone’s combined gazes, the hasty switch of focus to you catching you off guard. But, as quickly as the alarm had rippled into your body, it had dispersed out. 

A smirk split your face, and you nodded toward the woman closest to you (who promptly went pink and near-fainted) as a way to acknowledge that you acknowledged their sudden interest in you. You heard someone chuckle at the sight, and a few more flurries of whispers were burgeoned from other by-standers.

During the time it took for you to jostle your trolley into an empty carriage near the back of the train, the number of people actively tracking your every move had died down, though only by a fraction. From the corners of your eyes, you could still see the odd third-year trying to estimate how many laces you had on your shoes, no doubt so he could pester his parents into buying the same pair. (You kept to yourself that they had previously belonged to Odette, however, as you seriously doubted anyone wanted to know that (Y/n) (L/n), hero of the wizarding world, still wore hand-me-downs.)

Unfortunately, it seemed that although you possessed the power to terminate the reign of the darkest and most powerful wizards in history, you had apparently not attained the muscles required to heave your trunk up the stairs onto the Hogwarts Express. You stumbled back, cursing as you reeled from the pain that rocketed through your foot after you dropped your trunk on your toes.

“Want a hand?” 

You looked up. It was one of the red-headed twins, from that family you had met before.

“Yes,” you said almost immediately. “Er, please.”

“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”

The three of you managed to successfully store your trunk into the corner of your compartment. Before you could thank the twins for their help, though, one of the twins pointed at the spot on your forehead where the thin lightning-shaped scar donned your skin. 

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n),” he announced. Just like Olivander, this had not been a question, but rather a statement.

“Yes,” you straightened your posture, raising your head a little higher. “That’s right. I am.”

The two boys gawked at you, and you subtly swept your sweaty hair to expose the scar even further. To your slightest dismay, however, the familiar voice of the red-headed mother drifted through the carriage before you were able to elaborate further on your tale of the lightning-shaped battle scar.

“Fred? George? Are you there?” Both the twins groaned at their mother’s summoning. Sparing one last glance at you, they ambled toward her call. “Coming, Mum.” You waved the twins goodbye. Sitting down by the window, you ducked your head so you could listen to the family, who were still on the platform, whilst being half-hidden at the same time. Their mother had scourged out a handkerchief and was furiously scrubbing at Ron’s nose to rid the smudge of dirt that laid upon it.

You watched with amusement as Ron tried to lurch away before being caught in his mother’s iron-fisted clutches once again.

“Mum – geroff!”

One of the twins snickered, leaning close to Ron. “Aaaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” 

“Shut up!” You saw the oldest of the red-headed siblings saunter towards his family, already draped in his robes. A shiny red and gold badge was pinned onto his chest, with the letter P engraved onto it.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said stiffly. “I’m up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –”

“Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?” One of the twins gasped, bringing his hands to his face in disbelief. “You should have said something, we had no idea.” “Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it, once –”

“Or twice –”

“A minute –”

“All summer –”

You huffed a laugh at the back and forth going between the family. Percy the Prefect’s face was starting to sport a lovely bright, irritable shade of red. 

“How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” queried one of the twins.

“Because he’s a Prefect,” their mother smoothed Percy’s already-perfectly-smoothened hair fondly. “All right, dear, well have a good term – send me an owl when you get there.” 

She sent him off with a kiss. 

You sunk back into your seat. For some reason, the jovial atmosphere you’d felt upon discovering the magical platform had now become strangely dampened. 

Call it a moment of weakness, sure – but in that moment, you wished that you could have a mother. A mother who would dote on you like that or who would comfort you. 

But, as soon as that looming train of thoughts had festered, you vanquished them from your mind – the other kids could keep their affectionate mothers who waved them goodbye as they left, the same, in fact, would go for their superficial, gentle-natured fathers; you had your fame and that topped any shred of whatever they may have had, whatever you were missing!

As though the red-head family were suddenly attuned with your train of thought, you heard the voice of the youngest child, the girl, pipe up. “Oh! (Y/n) (L/n) On the train? Please can I go see her, Mum, please, please, please…”

“You’ve already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Is she really, Fred? How do you know?” “Asked her. Saw the scar. It’s really there – like lightning.”

“Poor dear.” 

Your fingers traced the pattern of the scar, not particularly liking the feeling of pity emanating from the family.

“No wonder she was alone. I wondered. She was ever enthusiastic, though, when she asked how to get on to the platform. I’d have thought she’d be scared, by herself…”

“Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”

The red-headed mother swelled. “I forbid you to ask her that, Fred! No, don’t you dare. As though she needs reminding of –... ”

The disarrayed ruckus of another family hurriedly barrelling onto the platform, and ushering their boy onto the train, stripped your focus from the ginger group. 

Observing the mop of black hair, you realised pleasantly that it was the boy you had met at the Quidditch store that day in Diagon Alley. Closely behind him, a stressed looking woman with copper-coloured hair, followed him briskly onto the train. Your lips twitched as you noticed that she possessed the same brilliant green eyes as her son. 

The father, a carbon copy of his son, followed seconds after, carrying a tremendously large trunk onto the train. There was one more man – perhaps one of the uncles the boy had mentioned – who remained on the platform. You guessed that he was allowing the family their final moments together. He didn’t really look alike to the mother or father of Quidditch Boy’s family, so you presumed that he was probably an uncle by choice, not blood. He had sandy brown hair with substantially sized scars running down the entirety of his face and neck. There was a large, shaggy black dog beside him too, and you swore that it had winked when it saw you looking at the group.

A shrill burst of steam raged outwards from the chimney of the train. You guessed that this was a warning to families that the train was about to depart right now. True to your word, just as Quidditch Boy’s mother and father practically leapt off the train carriage they’d left their son in, the train doors slammed shut, and the vehicle began dutifully chugging forward. 

Left behind now, was the platform of nine and three-quarters.

Leaning back in your seat, you exhaled roughly. This was it, the moment that marked the beginning of your journey into Hogwarts. You had no clue where you were going, but you just knew it would be good. A grand moment, you were sure, but what you were also sure of was that the next few hours on the train (or possibly days or months, who knew?) would result in you being bored out of your mind. Stuck in an empty carriage by yourself with no one to talk to – tragic – maybe it would do you some good if you popped down into one of the other carriages and try to find some other first-years.

Coincidentally, the door of the compartment was opened by none other than Quidditch Boy himself. His hair was askew, glasses lopsided and cheeks clearly flushed from the rush of trying to scramble onto the Hogwarts Express before it departed. He did not have his trunk with him, which meant that his father was able to stash it onto the train it in time.

“Hey, again,” he flashed you a bashful smile. “Would it be alright if I could sit here?”

“Sure. No problem.” 

You observed him as he took the seat opposite you. He was already wearing robes of sorts, not the Hogwarts ones, judging from the lack of school emblem, but the sorts that you hypothesised would be the wizarding equivalent to a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Er,” he started, causing you to look over at him. “It’s nice to see you. Again.” “Yeah.” you agreed with him, offering a lopsided smile. “Great. To meet you.” 

“Yep.”

The compartment fell into a highly awkward silence, one that you were not at all familiar with. Back with the Caddels, or even at your previous school, you had no problem whatsoever making friends with strangers. In fact, conversation came easily to you – you weren’t the most popular girl in the grade for no reason, after all. So the stuffiness invading the atmosphere was most definitely unwelcome, and honestly, unnatural.

Thankfully the awkward cloud hanging above you and Quidditch Boy dissipated abruptly when the compartment door slid open again, revealing the tall, freckled, ginger boy. The other first-year you’d spoken to: Ron.

His eyes widened when he saw you sitting in front of him. “Uh – sorry, anyone else sitting here? Everywhere else is full.”

Quidditch Boy shook his head and Ron took the seat beside them, so they were both facing you. Ron’s gaze hadn’t settled and he kept on glancing toward you and then toward the window whenever he made eye contact with you. It was amusing, his discomfort, from how often he did it.

“Hey, Ron.” The red-headed twins popped into the compartment suddenly. “Listen, we’re going back down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” said the youngest sibling.

So we’re not going to question the spider. Seems good.

“(Y/n),” the other twin, the one who hadn’t been talking to Ron, turned to you. “And other Kid,” referring to Quidditch Boy, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. Anyways, see you later, then.” The three of you said bye in unison as the twins left.

As soon as they were gone, Ron blurted out, “Can we see the scar?” You blinked at him, and he went pink. Though, you complied either way (as you had no qualms to showing off the lightning-shaped bolt). Pulling your hair back, the scar on your forehead was revealed to Quidditch Boy and Ron.

“Wow,” breathed out Quidditch Boy. “It really does look like lightning.”

Ron was equally stunned. “So that’s where You-Know-Who – ?”

“Yes.” You grinned brightly at their awed expressions. They stared at you a couple seconds longer before Ron diverted his attention quickly back to the greenery flitting through the window.

“So, is your whole family magic then?” you asked Ron out of curiosity. 

You already knew that Quidditch Boy’s father was a pure-blood and his mother was a muggle-born, whatever that meant; you weren’t going to be the one to say you had no idea what those were.

“Quidditch Boy?” puzzled Quidditch Boy, eyebrows furrowing. 

Ah, had you said that outloud? Whoops.

You laughed, bringing a hand to your nape. “Sorry, I don’t know your name, so I’ve just, kinda, resorted to calling you Quidditch Boy in my mind.”

“Oh, well, I’m, uh, Harry. Harry Potter.” said the boy, smiling at you once more. 

You slouched further into your seat. “Nice to meet ya then, Harry Potter.”

Ron interjected into the conversation, for which you were grateful. The ginger boy seemed to hold the power of evaporating awkwardness with a snap of his freckled fingers. “Pure-blooded means that everyone on his father’s side is magic. I’m the same – everyone in my family is a wizard, well maybe except for my mum’s second cousin who’s an accountant, but we don’t really talk about him.”

“I get it,” you said, cupping your chin with your hand. “I’ve got no clue what I am. But I know that my father had no magic.”

“A muggle,” Ron nodded appreciatively. “Well, basically everyone knows that your mother was a pure-blood, though. That makes you a half-blood like him, since you’re a mix I guess.” He pointed at Harry. You were slightly startled that he knew more about your family and lineage than you did yourself. Maybe you should get used to people knowing more about you than you did yourself.

“A muggle-born’s a witch or wizard who was born from muggle parents,” continued Ron.

You tilted your head to the side. “Where does their magic come from, if they’ve got no magical blood or whatever?”

Ron looked partially affronted. “Who knows, – magic isn’t exactly something that comes in a nice little package that gets delivered to you when the time is right! All I know is that if you’ve got magic, then you’ve got it. That’s all there is to it, really.” He waved his hands about in the air for further emphasis. This was probably a topic Ron was passionate about, as you noticed his ears flushing red under the combined blank stares of you and Harry. You ponderedthat if Ron were to ever wear something salmon-coloured, it would definitely wash him out. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between his face and his left knee.

You tried to recover from the painful silence. “Thanks, that clears it up. You two must know loads of magic then.” 

“Not nearly enough as my mum wants me to,” said Harry.

“Hear, hear,” mumbled Ron.

“Huh. Guess that’s one good thing that comes out of being an orphan. No pushy mother for me!” You chuckled at the uncomfortable looks on the boys’ faces. 

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron, scratching the back of his neck. “What’re they like?” “Alright,” you shrugged. “Not outstandingly nice or anything, but they do their job. Would be cooler to have wizarding brothers like you though.”

“Not if you’ve got five of them.” answered Ron gloomily. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes and Charlie’s old wand. I wanted an owl, but they couldn't aff – I mean, they got Percy one instead for becoming a Prefect.”

Ron’s ears went pink again. Your brain, it seemed, was temporarily delayed and was not able to formulate a response to that.

“I’m sure you’ll do better than all your brothers combined,” said Harry. 

Ron smiled gratefully at him. 

As the train rolled onward and your surroundings grew greener, you, quite helpfully, took Hedwig’s cage and placed her on the centre of the table, announcing that the first one to get nipped whilst feeding her treats would be declared the ultimate ‘Loser Lord and/or Lordess.’ Hedwig loved you, so obviously she went ham whenever the two boys got close to her in order to secure your victory.

The three of you fell into an easy conversation after that, and you barely even realised how much time had passed until a smiling, old-looking woman popped her head into the compartment and said “anything off the trolley, dears?”

With that lovely gesture, you had leapt out of your seat and essentially pounced onto the food she was offering. Your pockets were lined with wizard money now, an infinite stash really, and so there was nothing stopping you from buying multiples of everything she had. As such, you, Harry and Ron had to literally struggle and drag back the food you’d hoarded, before dumping it on the table.

“Hungry, are you?” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at the pile of snacks that was nearly as tall as him.

“Starving,” you grinned back.

You, Harry and Ron tore into the pasties and cakes, the mountain rapidly diminishing by the second. There was one incident with a chocolate frog creeping into Hedwig’s cage before getting mauled by her talons. The card that supposedly came with the treat, had also been destroyed, so Harry had given his to you. One with a moving picture of Albus Dumbledore, who had waved politely at your stunned expression.

Once you’d moved onto Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, you found a lot of enjoyment when Ron had the misfortune of coming across a bean that tasted like dirty socks. Though, your amusement at Ron’s plight had been adjourned with the appearance of a round-faced boy.

“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”

“No, sorry.”

You were taken aback when the boy promptly burst into tears. “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!” “He’ll turn up,” said Harry.

“Yes,” said the boy, turning away dejectedly. “Well, if you see him…”

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” remarked Ron once the boy had left. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could.”

You deadpanned at him. “You haven’t even got any pets to lose, Ron. I’m betting that if you ever got one, you’d have even worse attachment issues than Toad-Boy.” “Mind you,” said Harry, talking around his mouthful of Cauldron Cake. “That’s saying a lot.”

“What’ve you got then?” asked Ron, turning his head to glare at Harry. “You seem awfully high and mighty for someone who probably doesn’t even have anything at all.”

“I’ve got a dog,” defended Harry. “Snuffles.” You stifled a giggle. “Snuffles? No way you named your dog that!” “I didn’t pick the name!”

“A dog’s not as good as an owl anyways,” you teased.

“I’d beg to differ – my dog totally is,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms. “Plus you don’t even need to have an owl – the school’s got its own aviary shock-full of ‘em that you can send letters with.”

“One day, I’m gonna get an owl.” Ron sighed dreamily. “Just for myself, I wouldn’t have to share with Fred or George or Percy or Ginny.”

“Who’s Ginny?”

Before Ron could express the identity of this ‘Ginny’, the compartment door was opened by a bushy-haired girl whose face was wrinkled up irritably. Toad-Boy also made a reappearance.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.” 

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening. Rather, she had been staring at you. 

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n).” she declared matter-of-factly. “I saw you at the station. I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

Ron gaped at her and Harry blinked a few times repeatedly.

“Be surprised if I wasn’t,” you said, winking cheekily. You also had no idea what she was talking about though.

She studied you appraisingly before asking Ron and Harry “and who are you?”

“Ron Weasley.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Pleasure. Well, I’m Hermione Granger. I was ever so pleased when I got my letter to Hogwarts, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all of our set books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough.”

All three pairs of eyebrows furrowed in synchronisation. You, personally, had only caught about one-third of what she had been saying since she’d been basically rapping out her words. 

Herminkoni (was that what she said her name was?) began talking again. “Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds the best by far, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad. Anyay, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

Herpes Motion thus turned around and left, taking Toad-Boy with her.

“Well,” you announced cheerfully. “She was nice.” “Sure,” muttered Ron, reaching for a Treacle Tart. 

“She was right about one thing though,” said Harry, grinning and brushing his hair out of his face. “Gryffindor, by far, is definitely the best house.”

“Who’s Gryffindor?” you squinted your eyes at him. Ron attempted an exasperated face-palm with his left hand (he was still holding the tart in his right). Harry laughed at this, before proceeding to explain the four houses to you.

Gryffindor had been the house Ron’s and Harry’s families had gotten into. The house of the brave, it was known for. Ravenclaw, the house for smart people (you had a feeling you would not be getting into that); Hufflepuff was the house for the loyal and well-meaning. And finally, there was Slytherin. Both Ron and Harry detested the green-and-silver clad house, for it had been the house to pump out the most dark witches and wizards.

“Ah,” you said. “So naturally, we should hate that house, since that was the one Voldemort was – ” “Woah,” interrupted Ron, looking impressed. “You just said his name.” “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just a name. Anyways, I’m guessing that you both want Gryffindor then?”

“Of course!” Ron puffed out his chest. 

“Hey,” Harry began, rubbing your chin. “Have you — ”

Unfortunately, whatever Harry had wanted to ask had been interrupted by the compartment door sliding open again. 

This time, it was a group of three – the ringleader being a sallow-faced, gauntly blonde boy. The other two were giant-sized, goliath looking boys who looked like his bodyguards. And, of course, they were all fixated on you. (But then again, why wouldn’t they be?)

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that (Y/n) (L/N)’s in this compartment. So, it’s you, is it?”

“That’s right,” you smiled at him.

His lips twitched into a small smirk. He waved his hand carelessly at the two body-doubles next to him. “This is Crabbe and that’s Goyle. And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron choked on his treacle tart, but you suspected that may have been him trying to disguise a sneer. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes on Ron.

“Think my name’s funny, do you?” he sneered, causing your hackles to raise immediately. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.” 

Ron’s face went pink again and he sunk into his seat. 

Draco Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry, but before he could say something about his family, you cut him off.

“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing outta your sewage-system of a mouth.”

Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.”

“Same goes for you.” 

You stared down Draco Malfoy. Harry was glancing back and forth between the two of you, and he looked ready to stand up if this altercation escalated.

“You don’t get to come in here and poke fun at us,” you muttered slowly. “Especially, if you want to be on good terms with me.”

His cheeks tinged a faint pink. “Not like I would want to be friends with the likes of you.” He placed the emphasis on ‘you’ the same way you did for ‘me’.

You, Harry and Ron all stood up. 

“I think it’d be best if you left.” you gritted out, disliking the boy less and less by every twitch of his rat-like face.

Unfortunately for you, Malfoy’s rattish face had broken out into a sneer. “You’ll regret making enemies out of me, (L/n). I promise you that much.”

He furiously spun around and out of the carriage, but not before he could shoot you a final scathing look. Crabbe and Goyle chased after him, robes billowing out from behind them.

“What a buffoon,” you huffed angrily.

“Agreed,” said Harry, still glaring at the door.

“I’ve heard of his family before,” said Ron darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” “‘Specially if they thought it was the winning side,” added Harry.

The door opened before you could open your mouth. There was Hermit Yeti, yet again, standing at the entrance.

“What has been going on? Why did I just see three boys bolting out of this compartment?” She looked you up and down. “You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

“They were the ones starting it – not us!” defended Ron, scowling at her.

“All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” she said sniffly. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know that?”

“Thank you,” you interjected, glaring at her on behalf of Ron. “Could you leave now?”

And finally, Herm-onion left.

If you had to guess, it had been only an hour after that when the train had pulled to a stop. You had slipped on your robes, ensuring that they still had your signature wind-swept appearance about them. Ron and Harry were also wearing their school robes now too. The three of you stuffed your pockets with the remaining sweets before you left the train.

Hopping out of the train and onto the station, you were delighted to be met with the familiar, wild face of Hagrid, the giant-man. 

“Firs’-years! Firs-years over here! All right there, (Y/n)?” He beamed at you from under his scraggly beard.

You waved enthusiastically at him. 

The first-years, it looked like, had their own means of reaching the school, which involved travelling in groups of four in a little boat across a lake. You, Harry, Ron and the bushy-haired girl (to your displeasure) took a boat close to the front.

Whilst you did not dislike the girl, you weren’t fond of her tendency to huff or be bossy, especially when she did it toward Ron (which you found she did often). Harry hadn’t done anything to get into her wrong books, and nor vice versa, so they were probably on the most amicable terms between your little trio.

The boats glided in unison across the great body of water, before coming to a stop at the front of the school’s castle. You could hardly hear Toad-Boy’s reunion with his toad (“Trevor”) amongst the excited buzzing in your ears.

The gaggle of first-years came to a stop at the entrance of Hogwarts, a ginormous wooden castle door. Hagrid raised his fist and rapped three times on it. 

The door opened immediately. There was a stern, grey-haired witch standing behind it. She was sifting through the crowd intensely, and her gaze did not linger on your scar like how most peoples’ did.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” The door was opened further and you streamed into the Entrance Hall. The entire school was huge, you realised, and was very elaborately decorated – like something you would read in a book. Flaming torches illuminated the corridor. The first-years were pulled into a little room, next to a place where you could hear the rest of the school talking.

It was then you noticed that Ron appeared quite pale under his freckles and that Harry was fiddling with his fingers. In fact, every first-year seemed to be exhibiting some sort of nervous tick, apart from Malfoy, who was rolling his eyes for some reason. 

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion. Should you have been scared too? It wasn’t like they were going to force you to fight each other or anything right? At least, that’s what you hoped. Although, you definitely knew that if they made you fight, you’d win.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and speed free time in your house common room.

She continued giving a debrief of the houses, but as it was something you had already heard from Harry and Ron, it wasn’t anything new. You fidgeted restlessly, wanting to get onto the Sorting already.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes lingered on your messy hair and ruffled collar, as one lapel stuck upwards. 

Once she left, you turned to Harry and Ron. “What do they do to get us into these houses? Is it like a test? Based on how you answer, that’s where you get in? Like, ‘what is the square root of sixteen?’”

“That’s probably only good for finding Ravenclaws and non-Ravenclaws though,” said Ron, taking you seriously. “My brothers said it was a test too, though. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Harry was looking more unsettled by the minute. 

“Hey,” you said, patting his shoulder, mistaking his expression as anxiousness. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure Ron’s brothers are just messing with us.” “Me too,” confirmed Ron.

“But,” Harry’s green eyes met yours. “A test? I didn’t know we had to do a test. In front of the whole school? I can barely do two spells, how will they sort me with that? I— I didn’t think — I mean, my dad said— I thought it had something to do with a ha –”

“Listen,” you began, patting his shoulder. “That’s already two more spells than I know, and probably most of the first-years too. That Malfoy kid included.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the said blonde boy, before returning them to Harry. “Don’t worry, alright? Test or not, I’m sure we'll all do great. Probably.” 

Beside you, Ron nodded in agreement (although it looked like his skin was also beginning to reach a sickly pale green colour).

“You’re right,” said Harry, and you were pleased to see that he was a fraction less scared than he was a moment ago. Although he did still look a tad bit confused.

Anyways, moving onto more pressing matters. You didn’t bother with ‘smartening yourself up.’ You were already pretty smart enough, in your opinion. Having bested the darkest wizard of the age at a meagre one year of age didn’t come to just anyone, you know?

After a whole debacle with some ghosts or something flying in to greet you before the ceremony, Professor McGonagall entered the room once more. You all trudged in a single-file line into the Great Hall.

You gaped openly at the Great Hall, which looked even bigger than the Entrance. Four long tables were lain across the room, with golden plates and goblets sitting on each. The students were segregated by houses, indicated by the colour of their robes and ties. There were also several candles floating in the air, which was pretty sweet too. Oh, and the roof looked like the sky as well. 

Professor McGongagall placed a three-legged stool in front of school, and then she placed a rusty-looking hat on top of it. You deadpanned when it broke into song, and even more when everyone burst into applause once it finished.

“So, we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whisper-yelled to you and Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll!” Harry gave him an unsure smile, and said “I tried telling you it was just a weird hat. You threw me off with the test talk.”

Professor McGonagall approached the stool, unravelling a long roll of parchment paper. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

Hannah stumbled from the crowd of first-years and toward the professor. She placed the hat on her head and after a moment of silence, the hat shouted out “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table on the right, with the yellow-and-black clad students, the house of Hufflepuff, cheered and hollered as Hannah went to join them.

‘Bones, Susan’ went up next and she too went to Hufflepuff. ‘Boot, Terry’ went to Ravenclaw, and ‘Brown Lavender’ became the first new Gryffindor. The cheering from the red table was definitely the loudest, especially when right after ‘Bulstrode Millicent’ was sorted in Slytherin and all she got was only a polite and semi-subdued applause from her new house.

A few more people went, and then, so did ‘Granger, Hermione’ (so that was her name) who sat on the stool for a precariously long period of time before being sent to Gryffindor. Ron groaned. Toad-Boy (Longbottom, Neville!) got Gryffindor too, but somehow, he was on the stool for even longer than Hermione.

You were raising your hand to scratch at the itch in your ear when your name was called. 

As you stepped forward, the students in the Hall started to whisper loudly, just as they had done at the station.

“(L/n), did she say?” “The (Y/n) (L/n)?” Those comments did not help the rising ego blooming inside of you. You swaggered over the stool and sat down. Your fingers delicately gripped the brim of the hat. The fabric felt ragged and old underneath your fingertips. You brought the Sorting Hat down toward your –

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat had barely scraped the fly-away hairs on your head when it shrieked out. 

The Great Hall was silent for a few, stunned moments, taken aback by your instantaneous sorting. You stared back at them with wide eyes, darting downwards to look at Harry and Ron. They were wide-eyed too, before the dam of silence was broken, and they beamed gigantic smiles at you, alongside the entirety of the Gryffindor table erupting into cheers – louder cheers than for any of the people before you. 

You felt a warm glow in your chest. You looked around the table, and saw many friendly faces. Percy the Prefect had dived over the table (almost) to shake your hand vigorously and you could hear the Weasley twins jeering “we got (L/n)! We got (L/n)!” Even the resident Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, was congratulating you for your placement by patting your arm, which felt oddly like you were being doused in a bucket of cold water.

At the High Table, Hagrid was grinning and gave you the thumbs up of approval. Dumbledore, as you recognised him from the chocolate frog card, was up there too with a faint twinkle in his eye.

The only notable people left up, really, were Harry and Ron. 

Harry had been called first.

The Sorting Hat was sat upon his head for what seemed to be the better portion of an eternity. For the first time since your arrival, you felt a jolt of fear. What if you and your friends would be separated into different houses? You didn’t to be stuck in a full with only Neville and Hermione, everyday. What would happen if you woke up to find Neville’s slimy toad on your pillowcase or —

You felt a surge of joy and relief, as after a minute or two, the hat declared “GRYFFINDOR!” and the Great Hall erupted in cheers for Harry. You clapped your hands and smiled widely, looking for him among the sea of red and gold.

He took a seat beside you and you high-fived him.

“Nice to see you here, Potter, Harry,” you said, changing your voice to mimic McGonagall’s.

“Nice to see you too, the (Y/n) (L/n),” he snickered, mocking the way the students had reacted when they’d heard your name.

You grinned at him.

Ron joined you rather quickly, even though he was one of the last people to get sorted. You were delighted at this, as it meant you could still be with them for the rest of your Hogwarts years, if what Professor McGonagall had said about your house being akin to family, was true.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” He sat down, and as he did, food magically appeared in front of you.

“Is he – a bit mad?” Harry asked you uncertainly.

“Probably,” you said, shrugging, reaching for the roast potatoes.

You scarfed down your food, listening to the conservation around you. You cheered when the dessert had come, causing the people around you to chuckle, quietly – except for Ron, who had gotten to the apple pie before you could.

You wrestled Ron for a slice of said pie, and were happily munching on it when you glanced back up to the High Table. Hagrid was drinking from his goblet, and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were in a deep discussion with each other. Another Professor, in a purple turban, was fiddling nervously with his cutlery, tapping his fork against the edge of the table. He was speaking with a professor with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

The teacher, as though he could sense your presence, glanced straight past the Turban-Professor and bore his black eyes into yours – a sharp, hot pain seared within your scar, and you let out a hiss of pain.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked you, foreheading furrowing in concern.

“N-nothing.” The pain had left as quickly as it had come. How strange. You got the feeling that the hooked-nose teacher did not like you very much.

“Who's that teacher, the greasy-haired one?” you pointed at him, not discretely.

Harry stifled a laugh. “That’s Snape. No one likes him, they say he wants to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but every year he gets stuck as the Potions one instead. My dad doesn’t like him at all – actually, my entire family doesn’t really either.”

“Why’s that?” you questioned.

“Not sure,” said Harry, but he scratched his cheek nervously. “They won’t tell me.”

Deciding not to press him further, you continued to watch Snape a little longer. He never looked at you again, though, after that.

Once the desserts had all faded away, Dumbledore had announced his final speech and conducted a very tragic school school orchestra. He wiped his eyes, from pain or sadness or you guessed maybe even both, when they had finished. “Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Powering your legs through the sheer force of the food you’d guzzled down, you followed Percy up to the Gryffindor Tower. With horror, you realised that you’d have to climb an average of seven staircases everyday, simply just to get to your bed. 

Anyways, the entrance to the Gryffindor headquarters was through a painting of a Fat Lady and she flipped open when you told her the password, Caput Draconis. You scrambled through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. 

You lazily trudged up the stairs, and without even bothering to notice that your trunk had been transported up to your dorm room, you face-planted onto your bed and fell into a heavy sleep.

Perhaps you had eaten a bit too much, because that night, you had a very strange dream. 

You were staring into a mirror, desperately trying to tug off a purple turban from your head. When did you get a turban? How did you get a turban? The fabric of the turban grew tighter, making you feel a sharp pain in your skull as the turban squeezed your head like a vice. You wondered how you got into this mess in the first place.

Furiously pulling, pulling, at the turban finally caused it to unravel and expose your hair. With a start, as you glanced back to the mirror, you discerned that your face had, horrifyingly enough, taken on the face of Snape. His own black, empty eyes stared back at you. 

You scrambled back, leaping away from his cockroach-like eyes, only to find that, for some reason, there was a bottomless abyss behind you. You fell down, down, down into a pit. Closing your eyes as your head thrummed painfully, you braced yourself for the impact. 

A bright flash of green light, and a high, cruel laugh jerked you awake. 

Oddly enough, however, when you’d gone back to sleep, you hadn’t remembered the dream at all. You did question, however, the next morning why when you closed your eyes, all you saw was a luminous, green light in the shape of a lightning-bolt scar.

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡  　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

→ Author's Note: Hello my lovelies, welcome to ch 1.2 yippee!! Sorry that its super long but we’re pretty already halfway through the ch 1 portion of the series XD — I’m guessing now that it's gonna reach about 1.4 or 1.5 but I could also be widely incorrect :P Anyways that’s all so catch ya next time :))) thank you

Time for this chapters analysis ~ You will have probs noticed one of the most canon-divergent parts of this series so far is that instead of the same dilemma Harry faced when he was getting sorted (Slytherin vs Gryffindor), as soon as the hat touched the little hairs upon your head, you were sorted into Gryffindor. During this chapter, and a little of the last one (but mostly this one), I've kinda been subtly trying to hint that the Reader is really quite arrogant and brazen. Rather than Harry as the chosen one, where he longs for a quiet and normal life, Reader dives headfirst into her role. She shamelessly self-promotes her lightning-scar and doesn’t try to hide it – she knows she’s special and she feeds into that!!  She’s kinda like James Potter in that regard >.< and therefore I want her to kind of be epitome of a Gryffindor (courageous and arrogant) and maybe, maybe not, a parallel to Draco Malfoy (who also got sorted into Slytherin ASAP, and is ambitious and arrogant) hehe → that’s also why Reader and Malfoy get more aggressive even more quickly than Harry did in canon… Anyways!!! This is the briefest hint at what I have in store for this series, and we’ll see how Reader’s arrogance courageousness deviates Harry Potter from canon.  Tbh I’m planning to make the reader Percy Jackson-coded (with the sass and reckless bravery and loyalty and what not) and maybe just the slightest bit Gojo-coded hehe,  I know that it's not that clear rn lol but I’ll work my way into it hopefully… Anyways, thanks again! :D Series Masterlist

Taglist (thanks for asking!): @kaverichauhan

[casualheizouenjoyers]

☆.｡.:* 16. counter all your quick remarks ✍︎

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☆.｡.:*   cruel summer

☆.｡.:*  synopsis: you are a small streamer centered on cozy gaming and your ongoing series of ranking every taylor swift song in a tier list. scaramouche is a competitive speed runner in a streamer group called “the harbingers” that has an insanely large fan base. your paths only cross once he subtweets about your content and your favorite artist, causing a petty online argument that might lead to something else.

ㅤ ╰ཱི ࣭ ࣪ ❁𝆬  ࣭  ྏ ࣭  ͘ ｡ ࣪ ✐ yntaylorsversion is interning!  ̣ ࣪ ྌ  

Your first day of your internship consisted of a woman with short purple hair monotonously showing you around the building, a quick but fairly knowledgeable tour about the place and a quick rundown of what you’d be doing. It was hard not to look at the place with some rose-colored glasses as you had dreamed of working at Yae’s Publishing house for a while now…. but in all honesty, it was just another big business similar to something of a workplace drama set.

The main thing that got you the internship with no prior experience in the publishing field was your streaming following. Deciding to use that for the best, you applied to be a social media intern and just like that, you were accepted. So, summer internship was in the bag! You wished to be editing and maybe writing books instead of planning posting schedules and submitting ideas for videos, could you really complain? It was all a part of putting your foot in the door!

Your mind wandered ever so slightly as your tour guide —her name tag reads the name “Sho”— continued on about something you were really only half paying attention to.

She was a fairly pretty woman, though, your focus on her face was probably due to the fact that she looked just like Scaramouche. In fact, the two could probably be twins with the way they resembled each other. Though, her eyes didn’t crinkle the same way Scara’s did when he smiled… but that was a comparison you felt a little embarrassed to realize. So what if you had been a little nervous the night before and watched his newest face cam stream? It didn’t mean anything…. did it?

“—Understood?” Sho said as you tuned back into her words.

“I apologize, but could you repeat that?” You said with a sheepish smile, feeling embarrassed for spacing out during your first day.

She sighed, but repeated her words nonetheless. “This is your desk space—” She gestures towards a small but usable desk. “— and these are the passwords for our social media accounts,” Sho handed you a sheet of paper.

“Ah, thank you!” You placed your laptop bag down on the desk, taking the paper from her hands and taking a quick look at it.

“If you need anything else, I will be in my office over there,” She said, waiting for you to ask any questions.

“Alright, thank you again,” You said as she walked away without another word. Opening up your laptop, you made a quick spreadsheet. Making a posting schedule was actually nothing to you as it was something you made monthly for yourself.

If you’re being honest, the company probably did need someone new running the social media accounts. Whatever they were doing was fine…. though it did reduce their audience to middle aged moms on facebook.

You’re about halfway through the schedule when a hand quickly closes your laptop shut. Your head shot up to take a look at who would have the audacity to just randomly do that.

Your eyes locked with lilac eyes…. the same one you were studying just that night. “I— Scara?” You said.

Scaramouche laughed, probably at the confusion on your face.

“Why the hell did you— What are you even—”

“Kunikuzushi,” The voice of Sho, your kind of boss, cuts through your words. “Don’t torment my interns,”

“I wouldn’t call it tormenting,” He replied with a grin. “We know each other,” Which wasn’t technically wrong. You did know each other, just from bickering online for thousands of peoples enjoyment.

“Still, I’d rather you not bother them while they work,” She huffed, and you realize your suspicions of the two being related must not be far from off.

“Oh, come on, Sho,” Scaramouche crossed his arms.

You feel awfully awkward witnessing the woman you’re interning over and your online friend of a few months conversing like this.

“Don’t you have a meeting with Yae Miko?” Sho asked, making her way towards your desk.

“When’s their lunch break?” He asked, pointing towards you.

“You didn’t answer my question,” She stated.

“And you didn’t answer mine,”

Sho groaned.

“Anyways, I’m stealing your intern for lunch,” Scaramouche grabbed your hand, pulling you up out of your seat.

“What about Miko?” She said with a light glare.

“I’m sure she can wait,” He rolled his eyes, giving a little wave towards Sho.

“So, are we not going to talk about whatever that was?” You said, your arms crossed as you sat in a restaurant a few blocks away from your internship.

“No?” Scaramouche said as he ordered some random appetizer off the menu.

“No? Nahh, you don’t get to do that,” You scoffed. “You’ve dragged me away from my work, so I’d like an explanation,”

“I was supposed to meet with my stepmom,” Scaramouche said.

“Right,” You said, as if whatever he said explained anything. “Mommy issues?”

“Fuck off,” He groaned.

“You’re the one who dragged me to lunch,” You laughed.

“I regret it, should’ve taken a different intern,” He said, placing an elbow on the table.

“And miss the chance to talk to your favorite twitch streamer yntaylorsversion?” You teased, taking a look at the menu and deciding on a meal.

“I don’t like streamers with bad taste in music,” He replied, cupping his own face in his hand.

“I'm going to get a headache by the end of this, aren't I?" You said, but can't help but smile anyway.

Weird meetings aside, Scaramouche was actually really nice to talk to....

authors note: if it isnt obvious sho is the shogun puppet. but like omg they met irl only after uhhh 16 and a half chapters ! if links arent working for u like they aint working for me. all my chapters r tagged under "cruel summer : chapters" !! love game is tagged similarly tbh

☆.｡.:*  taglist: @raideneiari @starryeyedkoko @lightlyfeatheredquailqin @thenightsflower @isa-solasun @lilactaro @imdeadlyboredhelp @arizzu @turningfrogsgay @icedmocha1 @feverish-dove @xiaosonlybeloved @sukunasrealgf @eutopiastar @shinunoga-iie-wa @phoenix-eclipse @crueldinasty @sashiette @hotgirlshit5 @certaindreampost @atlaincorrect @aludicpoet @justawalkingdisaster @m3gitsune @mechanicalbeat1 @distinguished-simp @mayacheiko @r4yyyyy @kkazuyass @angelunatic @kunikuzushisbeloved @bubblegum-angelquartz @fangygf @yuyudoesdrugs @kitsuvil @xiaossocksniffer @scarletttcroww @fanficaddictedmushroom @crucnhice @exhaustedcommunist @sleepysoda21 @bubbabobabubbles @kaoyamamegami

[littlemourningstarr]

Take a Taste

Sekh and Astarion pay Dalyria and her Keep a visit- for the first time, with Yenna in tow.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, Yenna is growing up, vampire feeding, almost exhbitionism, blood kink, handjobs, blowjobs, dom/sub undertones, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

Astarion swept through the open doors of Dalyria’s keep as if owned it, leading an over-eager Yenna, with Sekh trailing just a step behind. He knew the drow was keeping an eye on all of the spawn- after all, they had just walked in with not one but two mortals- and while Sekh had been there before, and Astarion was fairly sure it was quite clear that he was not to be touched, Yenna was new. Young.

But not young enough to keep sequestered away in Baldur’s Gate, any longer. It had been a hard decision, for Astarion and Sekh, when they decided they were going to visit the spawn, to bring Yenna. But she was adamant she wanted to, and as much as Astarion wanted to coddle her, Sekh believed she needed to be given some freedom.

As if traipsing across the city at all hours of the day and night wasn’t freedom?

Still, it didn’t matter. She was here- and while Sekh could keep a watchful eye, Astarion needed to ensure his presence was known. To remind the spawn that he could, if need be, best any of them.

He didn’t doubt it.

They found Dalyria in the library- which had filled out considerably more, since their last visit. She was standing at a shelf, flipping through a book, but paused the moment the door opened, glancing up.

“I expected you hours ago,” she teased, not closing her book.

Astarion grinned. “Sorry love, but my little darling here got distracted by some… moss, was it?” Astarion glanced back at Sekh, who offered his own beaming smile.

“Yes actually! I’ve noticed there’s been a change in some of what was just common Underdark moss around some of the more inhabited parts of the Underdark, and there was a fascinating patch about an hour back…” Sekh trailed off for a moment, before he cleared his throat. There was just a hint of red, to his dusky cheeks. “That is to say, yes, I got distracted. Sorry Dal.”

Dalyria flashed a sweet smile, fangs on full display, before she turned her attention to Yenna. The girl was standing next to Astarion, quite obviously staring at Dalyria with this awe struck look. “And this,” Dalyria said, finally snapping her book shut and walking over. “Must be the little darling you have been writing about for years.”

She paused in front of Yenna, offering her hand. Yenna took it, glancing at Dal’s fine boned fingers, the subtle jut of her wrist. “Yenna,” she managed.

Astarion wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so quiet.

“Yenna.” Dal continued to smile. “Lovely to meet you. Thank you for keeping my brother in line.” She took her hand back, reaching over and brushing some of Astarion’s long silver curls off his shoulder. “Gods your hair is so long now. Have you even cut it since… well, him?”

Astarion scuffed, giving his hair a shake. “I have, thank you. What? Jealous? I did always have the best hair of the spawn.”

“It gets in the way,” Yenna piped up, folding her arms. Astarion had freshly chopped her hair before they left- even though he had also done it the week prior. She was insistent on keeping it immensely short. “How many times have you bitched about blood in your hair?”

The elf scoffed, and Sekh pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling language Yenna. That, Astarion knew, was a long lost cause.

Dalyria was laughing though. “Oh I like her, Astarion. I wish you hadn’t kept her locked away for so long.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the place for a mortal child.” He glanced at Yenna. “But she’s old enough now. She could probably take out a few spawn if they looked at her too long.”

“Probably?” Yenna looked affronted. Astarion just waved her off.

Dalyria reached out, smoothed back some of her wild ginger hair, looking at her fondly. “I don’t doubt it,” she said. She glanced at Sekh then. “If you’re interested, the spawn have quite the wild garden out back. I’m sure they’d love some professional input.”

Sekh brightened up. “Come on Yenna, let’s let Astarion and Dal catch up.”

“Why can’t I stay?”

Sekh shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, you could stay inside a library full of books. Or we could go outside and find trouble.” Yenna pinched her lips together, before she was already moving for the door. Sekh glanced at Astarion, a smug smile on his face at convincing Yenna, before he stepped closer, leaned in and pecked his lips.

The drow went to move back, but Astarion reached up, caught him by his collar, kept him close. “Mmm, one more,” he whispered, delighted when Sekh leaned back in, kissed him a bit slower. Astarion wanted to yank at his shirt, pull the drow flush to him, but his husband was stepping back before he could, giving the two vampires a little wave, before he was rushing off, to catch up with Yenna.

Once the door shut, Dalyria looked at Astarion, her face softening. “I’ll be honest, I never expected you to be the one with a family.” She gestured towards one of the library’s couches, and they walked over, settling down. She set the book she had been reading on her lap idly.

“What can I say? I’m full of surprise.” His voice lacked the playful lit he might have had, were it any other observation. Instead it was just soft, adoring.

Dalyria smoothed her hands over the book, took a deep, unneeded breath. “Speaking of family. We need to talk about Leon.”

Astarion leaned back into the couch, draping an arm over the back. He had sent Dalyria a sending spell, advising briefly of what had happened- and that he, Sekh, and Yenna would be visiting, and he would explain in person. It had been much better than waiting ages for a letter to reach her.

It was a shame Sekh couldn’t seem to master the spell himself- Rolan had done it for them, before setting off to inscribe a number of scrolls so they could communicate with their further friends and family quicker.

“Is he really dead?” Astarion nodded. “And Yoosun and… Aurelia?”

“According to him. I didn’t see their bodies but… I don’t believe there was much left.” Dalyria turned away, staring off at one of the bookshelves with a blank look in her eyes for a moment. Astarion let her, gave her silence and space. She had always been a bit closer with all their little siblings than he had.

He had no reason to be- she was the only one that had ever seen what Cazador did to him, was the only one to take him beyond face value.

“How many spawn do you think he had?” She still wasn’t looking at him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Everything was very… quick. I don’t think we saw most of what he had. And I can’t fathom how many he went through.” Dalyria gave a curt nod.

“You said Victoria was sick… I never knew.”

“None of us did. He hid it well. Only Cazador would have known.” The name would forever taste bad, Astarion knew- but he hoped one day he might be able to say it without his stomach rolling. Or someday just completely forget it even existed, and not realize that he had forgotten. “He was beyond mad, Dalyria. There would have been no saving him.”

She inhaled, slowly. “I believe you. But it still… hurts. I never would have thought…” she trailed off, finally turned her attention back to Astarion. Her eyes looked wet, but no tears found her white eyelashes. “Leon wasn’t who I thought would have gone mad.”

“No, that would have been me.” Astarion flashed a smile- sad, but still a smile, and it was enough to make Dal’s lips quirk up, slightly.

“Your words, not mine.”

Astarion glanced down at the space open next to him, before he said, very softly, “come here.” Dalyria slid closer, leaning over against him, head gently resting against his chest. He lowered his arm, held her to him, rubbing along her bicep.

She fit well. It wasn’t something he’d ever realized- he had hugged her plenty, over the past few years. But during all that time with Cazador- he had been loath to touch any of the other spawn. Dalyria had helped clean him up, yes- especially after his entombment- but she had never truly held him, nor he her. It was as if they couldn’t have allowed themselves the luxury.

Astarion leaned his head down, kissed her hair. He knew she had to hurt, in her heart. She had, in a way, loved them all. She’d just wanted a life for them- the seven, all those other spawn-

“You can’t save everyone,” Astarion murmured, as she draped an arm over his waist, fisted her hand in his shirt. “I know you want to, but you can’t.”

“If I had insisted they stay with me…”

“They wouldn’t have listened. They needed to make their own choice, Dal. We all did.” She shifted slightly, but didn’t lift her head. Astarion let them both lapse into silence, thinking that all she needed in that moment was him there. She didn’t need words to mourn, didn’t need to be reminded of those she had saved. They were all around her.

She just needed time. Something that had plenty of.

*

“This is in remarkable shape,” Sekh mused, leaning over and eyeing a patch of tongue of madness growing in a rocked off garden, well behind the keep. There was a dwarf and a half elf with him, both beaming over the praise. “I don’t normally even see them get this large.”

“We’re real careful with them,” the dwarf said, stroking his braided beard. When he spoke Sekh could see the tips of his fangs. 

“I can tell. Have you done anything with them?” He shook his head.

“First batch, honestly. Dalyria found some books on poisons, but we don’t have much use for that. We thought maybe we could harvest them and trade ‘em out in that town.”

Sekh nodded. Lolth’s Cradle was close enough for that, and there would always be a market for tongue of madness. A proper introduction just needed to be made, so the spawn could traverse safely.

And they really needed to work on their undercommon. But it could all come with time.

Sekh turned away from the plants, found Yenna was examining a sword, held in both her hands, testing the weight. It looked fairly fresh- drow make, for sure. Perhaps one of the many findings the spawn procured during their little adventures out into the Underdark. The smith Dalyria had on hand had done a good job with it.

The drow paused when he realized who was showing her the sword. Sebastian looked just about the same as he had, the last time Sekh saw him. His hair was tied back at the base of his neck, his skin pale but with enough color to show he was fed properly. And he was smiling.

Sekh dared to walk over, not wanting to interrupt- realizing he really didn’t have any concerns over Yenna being around him. He trusted Sebastian enough.

“Sekh!” Yenna called when she saw him, turning and pointing the sword right at him. “Look at this! It’s so balanced, it’s not heavy at all!”

She gave it a little swing, as Sebastian turned his attention to Sekh. Sekh offered him a little smile, as Yenna took a few running steps, practicing a solid leap with the sword.

“You’ve enabled her,” the drow said, folding his arms as he settled right next to Sebastian. “That’s Yenna. Not sure if she even said her name before stealing your sword.”

The vampire gave a soft, little laugh. Musical, almost. “She didn’t, but that’s alright.” He inclined his head slightly, watching her. “She’s yours?”

“She’s my something,” Sekh teased. “But yes. Ours.” He still felt almost trepidatious, mentioning Astarion to the other vampire- just as he wouldn’t bring Sebastian up to Astarion, without being prompted. He could respect the weird hurt they both harbored, over everything. They may not have been in love, but there was still an extra bit of tenderness, rawness, to the two of them.

Sebastian gave a little nod. “She might be better with that sword than I am.”

“Are you learning?” Another nod.

“I don’t want to rely on just… this.” He gestured to himself. “Dalyria has taken amazing care of us, but I want to be able to protect myself, and never be a victim again.”

Sekh dared to reach out, gently grasp his shoulder. “It takes time.” Exactly what did, he didn’t specify. This, all of it- life.

*

Sekh watched as a number of spawn dragged a bulette close to the keep- one large enough that it would have taken a team of drow, easily. It seemed that the immortal strength was awakening in all of them, even if some slower than others.

“That is huge,” Yenna whispered, staring with large, bright eyes. “Are they always that big?”

“Typically,” the drow said, folding his arms. “That’s definitely a fully grown adult. I have seen some that are massive, but they frequent much more remote locations.”

Yenna nodded. “Can you ride them?”

Sekh snorted a laugh, turning to stare at her. He barely had to look down- and it hit him then, that she was nearly his height. When had that happened?

“Absolutely not. I’ve never seen a tame bulette- not that folks haven’t tried.” He felt a hand ghost along his back, and turned his head to the other side, found Astarion was watching the spawn as they situated the freshly dead beast. He hadn’t even heard the elf approach him. Sekh felt the tips of his claws, poking against his back, through his shirt. Swore he saw his pupils dilate slightly.

Even Sekh could smell the blood, from the bulette. It was heavy, a cloying iron. Next to him, Yenna shifted a bit.

“You can go inside,” he said, “you don’t need to…” watch. 

Yenna straightened her shoulders, just as Dalyria came into view, walking over to the spawn and speaking with them. The girl’s eyes stayed locked on her. “I’m fine. I want to.”

She had been adamant, when Dalyria had asked Astarion if he wanted to feed with her and some of the spawn. It was strange- it wasn’t as if she had never seen Astarion feed before, it wasn’t new.

Astarion turned to Sekh then, wordlessly kissed his cheek, before leaving his side, as Dalyria beckoned him over. A few of the spawn had already bitten into the massive beast, fangs working through thick, tough skin. A few had even taken daggers to some of the heavier scale like skin, peeling it away to reveal tender skin beneath. Easier to puncture.

Sekh watched Astarion pull his curls back, leave them resting against the nape of his neck, trailing down onto his back. Dalyria seemed to be teasing him- Sekh swore he heard messy eater, and then Astarion was grinning, those glorious fangs on full display.

Astarion got down on a knee, leaning into the beast, claws trailing along skin- and Sekh watched him open his jaw wide, swore his fangs seemed divinely long, before he was sinking them into the creature. Directly next to him, Dalyria clutched at the bulette, claws puncturing the tough skin and holding on as she bit.

Sekh swallowed, tried not to be distracted. But gods, he swore Astarion was at his most ethereal like this- there was something so glorious, so breath taking, about the elf letting himself be beastly. Sekh adored it, loved this side of Astarion so fiercely it made him dizzy.

He glanced next to him, and Yenna was leaning forward- so far in fact Sekh was concerned she’d fall right on her face. He followed her eyes, and they were still locked on Dalyria, watching as she arched her shoulders slightly. As if there was nothing else in the world.

A little smile crept onto Sekh’s face. It was a look he knew well; he'd given it to Astarion, countless times. He’d caught the vampire looking at him, in the same way. A look of sheer adoration.

And, in this case, possibly a fledgling crush. Something about that made Sekh giddy, because as horrifying as it was that Yenna was growing up, it was also exhilarating.

Sekh gently touched her shoulder, and she glanced up at him, slightly shocked- as if she had forgotten he was there. Silently, he guided her a few steps closer- not worried about her safety. He was there, and he would take on the world to protect her.

Besides, Astarion would never let a spawn touch her. And Sekh trusted Dalyria’s control.

This close the scent of blood was so strong it made Yenna wrinkle her nose. But she folded her arms, didn’t look away. Sekh pulled his hand from her shoulder, leaving her be in her thoughts, in her little world.

Sekh turned his attention back to Astarion, as he lifted his head, sucking in a breath. He didn’t need it, but he had gotten into a habit of breathing while awake, that Sekh swore sometimes the vampire himself forgot he didn’t need to. He had his jaws open, blood dripping down from his fangs, along his chin.

Sekh shifted, felt his pulse jumping. He folded his arms, let his fingers flex, wanted to grab onto Astarion. Wanted to hold his hair back as he fed, wanted to be right there as the color and life seeped into him. Feel him grow warm.

The vampire glanced at him, blood smeared lips curling into a smile, his eyes dancing like the blood moon. Sekh’s heart thudded against his ribs, made his chest ache, the affection and desire sliding down into his belly, pooling in a raging heat between his legs.

Astarion tilted his head back a little more, eyes going slightly heavy lidded, and Sekh watched his nostrils flare, once. And then his smile was a knowing grin, eyes lingering on Sekh for what felt like an eternity.

Gods, could he hear his heartbeat? Could he smell him? Sekh was sure he could, even as Astarion turned back to the bulette, sinking his fangs back in for a fresh bite.

Sekh moved on instinct, body taking over as his mind simmered. He strode over, getting onto his knees right next to Astarion, trailing his hand along his spine. The vampire gave a pleased little rumble, hips shifting slightly, as on Sekh’s other side Dalyria lifted her head, looked at him, intrigued.

She didn’t say a word, and Sekh turned his attention back to Astarion, freeing his hair, toying with it as the vampire grasped at the dead beast with his claws, until they were red, blood seeping under his nails. When he lifted his head again he turned, got that same bloody hand around the back of Sekh’s neck and pulled him in near-violently.

Sekh fell against him, as Astarion kissed him, ravaged his mouth with teeth and tongue. Sekh’s head spun from the heavy taste of blood, the iron-rich salt coating his own tongue, smearing along his lips as Astarion kissed him as if he wanted to claw down his throat, rip out his lungs through his wanton mouth.

The drow returned the kiss in kind, fisted his hands in Astarion’s shirt, tugging him close, letting himself fall back. They sprawled on the ground, Astarion braced over Sekh, bracketing him in, curls falling around them in a silver-white curtain. Sekh nipped at his tongue, before he got his lip between his teeth, pinched it, heard the vampire growl.

The only thing keeping Sekh from reaching for the buttons on Astarion’s pants was the fact that Yenna was still there, a few paces back. He couldn’t have cared if Astarion fucked him into a screaming mess in front of the other spawn- in fact, that sounded deliciously delightful- but he clung to that little thread of control he had left.

Astarion seemed to be clinging to the exact same thread, when he finally pulled from Sekh’s mouth, pushed himself up until he was straddling him- making a show of wiping his mouth along his hand, fangs still poking out at his lips.

Sekh glanced past Astarion, found Dalyria was still watching them. She had since stood up, had her arms folded, this intrigued sort of look. “Is this always how it is with you two?” she asked- voice teasing, yes, but also genuinely curious.

“No,” Sekh managed, pushing himself up on his elbows.

And from a few paces back, “Yes!” Yenna, yelling. Dalyria started chuckling, as Sekh craned his neck back, caught sight of Yenna and her ridiculous, toothy grin. “Don’t listen to them, they don’t know how to keep their hands off each other.”

“Yenna,” Astarion warned, even as he was still stradling Sekh.

The girl rolled her eyes. “What? Not my fault you both don’t know how to stay quiet and that they don’t build walls thick enough to block you out.”

Dalyria fully laughed now, bending over slightly with the sheer force. Sekh turned back towards her and the spawn, could just see past Astarion that a few had paused their feeding, were watching with bemused little bloody smiles.

The elf stood up then, shaking his hair back, before he offered a hand down to Sekh. Sekh took it, and Astarion pulled him to his feet, brought him flush to him, but hesitated close to his mouth, as if stopping himself from taking another kiss.

Sekh grasped at his waist then, whispered, “I think they want a show,” before he closed the space himself, kissed Astarion as if Sekh had been the blood-lust filled one. Astarion mewled into his mouth, hands roaming along Sekh’s chest, scrambling and scratching at his shirt.

The drow forced himself to keep calm enough to not shove Astarion back against the bulette and strip him right there- again, another lovely idea if he was honest- and instead pulled back after a moment, panting softly.

He glanced away from his husband, and realized Dalyria had stopped laughing. She lifted her hand, waving off towards the Keep. “Go,” she said, before she turned her eyes to Yenna. “Nothing will touch your little darling while I’m here.”

There was only a moment, a single sliver of breath, where Sekh glanced at Astarion, gauging his reaction- before he was grasping at his wrist, turning and hauling Astarion towards the keep, nearly running.

*

Astarion’s shoulders dug into the wall, a groan swallowed down as Sekh’s mouth pressed to his, harsh, needy. He moved to get his hands on the man’s waist, but Sekh grasped his wrists, pushed them hard against the wall, pinning him. Astarion arched, mouth opening, only to have Sekh’s tongue pushing in, tracing his fangs, making him shiver.

He rocked his hips forward, and Sekh squeezed his wrists, thumbs pressing into where his pulse would have once been. His grip was tight, almost made Astarion’s bones ache.

The drow bit his lip then, hard enough that Astarion grunted, before he finally released Astarion’s wrists, effortlessly dropping to his knees before him.

The vampire stared, slightly wide eyed, as Sekh popped the buttons on his pants, fingers easing the fabric apart, so he could reach in, squeeze the shape of his cock through his underwear. Astarion sucked at his lip- and tasted blood. The ghost of the bulette’s, yes- but stronger still, his own.

Sekh smirked, had this knowing look, before he turned his attention back to freeing Astarion’s cock. He pulled him free of his underwear, giving him a slow, firm stroke, watching as precum beaded up his slit, rolled down in a single drop over his knuckles.

“What got to you so quickly, my love?” The drow rubbed his thumb against the bundle of nerves, just below his cockhead, and Astarion swore he saw starbursts.

He swallowed, throat feeling tight. Gods, Sekh needed to ask? He could smell the arousal on the drow, watching him and the other vampires tear into that beast. Could smell his cunt and how it dripped at the sight of all that blood-

At the sight of Astarion, embracing his monster.

And yet somehow he seemed perfectly composed, and Astarion was the one with his damn cock out, heart racing. It wasn’t fair. Mere seconds ago they had both seemed mindless, and yet now Sekh seemed almost poised.

Astarion was happy to let his drow have that control- in this moment, he just wanted to be pulled apart.

Sekh leaned in, placed a ridiculously gentle kiss to his cockhead, lips smearing precum over soft, hot skin. “Starshine,” he murmured, not a question, just a blissful sigh. Astarion’s hands scrambled along the wall, searching for purchase and finding none. Sekh opened his mouth, made a show of sliding Astarion’s cock over his tongue, halfway into his mouth-

And then back out, slowly. Astarion let his eyelids flutter, as Sekh did it again, still slow, leaving his cock spit slick. The drow’s hands went to his hips, and in a rush of strength shoved them back hard, so Astarion was pressed tightly to the wall.

“You don’t move,” the drow whispered, “understand?”

The vampire managed a single, weak nod. Gods below his stomach was nearly aching with a fucking need to be properly buried in that mouth- but Sekh went back to that slow half swallow, leaving Astarion on edge. The hands on his hips relaxed slightly, as Sekh pulled off, chose to drag his tongue down Astarion’s cock, kiss at the base, let it rub spit against his marked cheek.

Astarion’s fingers flexed against the wall. He wanted to thrust forward, to watch Sekh’s eyes water as he took his mouth and his throat. Loved when his husband got so fucking desperate when he sucked his cock that he could sob, knew his cunt would be aching, drenched.

Gods Astarion wanted all of him.

Sekh took him back into his mouth, this time until his cockhead was nudging his throat, then back out, slowly. Astarion exhaled a shaking breath, lost himself then and tipped his hips forward, trying to thrust faster.

The hands on his hips tightened, slammed him back. “No,” Sekh growled, the guttural voice dragging from his chest. Astarion choked on a gasp over it, his cock twitching, dripping precum.

“Fucking gods Sekh,” he muttered, as the drow licked at his head, before taking him back to his throat. “What’s gotten into you?”

Astarion wasn’t complaining- far from it- and it was honestly normal to have the drow be in control, but this was-

This was something else. And it was utterly divine.

Sekh didn’t answer, began to bob his head just a little faster. Astarion reached forward then, got a hand in his hair, fingers tangling in it. He felt Sekh’s hum of approval, the other hand staying splayed on the wall, still trying to hold on.

Astarion realized he was panting- more with the restraint to keep from fucking his drow’s throat, than anything else. But his belly was fucking tight, his spine and his balls aching. Once he might have even been embarrassed about how easy he was to get off-

Except it hadn’t been like this, with anyone else. With Sekh he could actually feel good, feel safe enough to enjoy himself. And even years into this, this life, it still floored him.

He tipped his head back, eyes half shut, peering out throw heavy lidded eyes. He swore he saw something, at the door- which they had left ajar in their rush to get into the bedroom. But Astarion honestly didn’t care- if any of the spawn were curious enough to want a peek, let them watch.

He moved his eyes back to the ceiling, letting them fall shut, fingers flexing against Sekh’s scalp, in his hair. A silent warning.

In response a squeeze to his hip- gentle, now. No need for Astarion to try and draw this out.

The vampire let his mouth go slack, a pleased moan, ending in a sigh leaving him, as his orgasm washed over him in a blissful wave. His muscles went loose, felt warm, as his cum spilled into Sekh’s mouth, over that talented tongue. His drow took him in, held him back against his throat, even tried to swallow with him there, making Astarion’s belly flutter as the overly sensitive head of his cock was stimulated.

When Sekh pulled back slowly, Astarion managed to look down, watch his wet cock slide from those pretty lips. Sekh stood up, hands leaving Astarion’s hips- one grasping his chin, holding him firmly still, as he leaned in for a commanding kiss.

Astarion stayed lax, happy to let the drow lead, to follow his beckoning tongue, to whine as Sekh’s other hand moved between them, wrapped around his half hard cock, began stroking him. “Dar-ling,” Astarion managed, swore his legs were trembling.

Sekh rolled his thumb over his cockhead, and gods above, Astarion wasn’t going any softer. He could feel his muscles, confused, over stimulated, responding as if he was on the verge of orgasm again.

Sekh pushed a thigh between his legs, helped to support him as he rubbed at the underside of his cock, had Astarion’s breath rushing out so quickly he was growing dizzy. He couldn’t seem to make his eyes focus, and closed them instead, as Sekh went back for his mouth, got his lip between his teeth, squeezed another drop of blood from it.

The drow drank it down, shivered with delight. His tongue flicked at Astarion’s fangs then, pressing to the tips and making him shiver.

“Take a taste,” Sekh whispered, his hand moving to properly stroke Astarion again. Gods, he was hard, felt so fucking close already he swore he would die.

Sekh gave him a proper kiss, and when Astarion nipped at his lip, didn’t pull back. The tip of one fang punctured it barely, but one bead, then two of blood laced over Astarion’s tongue, had his head swimming.

He came from the taste alone, from the ghost of the decadence of his love’s blood. He was shaking with him, whimpering against Sekh’s mouth, as the drow hushed him, stroking slowly, milking the fucking orgasm until Astarion couldn’t even breathe- and forgot that he didn’t need to.

Astarion felt his knees threatening to buckle, and Sekh released his cock finally, hooked an arm around him as he leaned forward, rested his weight against Sekh. “Hush, I have you,” the drow whispered, his voice no longer commanding but soothing, sweet. A sudden switch-

Because that was what Astarion needed. And the man knew, without being told.

Astarion pressed his face into the crook of Sekh’s neck, breathed him in. Sekh shifted slightly, managed to get Astarion’s cock back into his pants, so he could lean him back against the wall-

Only to scoop him up, to grin, wicked and divine, as he carried him to the bed. Astarion got his arms around Sekh’s neck, felt like he was in a dream, everything moving slow, fuzzy along the edges.

Sekh settled him onto the bed, and Astarion refused to let go, trying to drag him down on top of him. His drow laughed, nudged the tip of his nose against Astarion’s. “I’m not leaving,” he promised, “just let go for a moment, okay?”

Reluctantly, Astarion did, and Sekh climbed into the bed, sitting up against the pillows. The moment he settled, Astarion was draping over him, snuggling into his chest, chest rumbling in delight when Sekh got his arm around him, simply held him tightly.

The vampire felt beyond relaxed, felt boneless, against his drow. Satiated from all his thirsts, he had a thrumming warmth seeming to echo through him. Sekh idly pet his hair, as Astarion let his eyes drift shut.

“We left Yenna with a hoard of vampire spawn,” Astarion mumbled, “we’re awful parents.”

Sekh laughed, and Astarion could feel the vibrations of it, in his chest, against his cheek. It made him drowsy. “She’s alright. Dalyria would never have let a thing touch her- and honestly, at this point, I trust these spawn.”

Astarion sighed. “Trusting a vampire, your biggest weakness.” He smiled into Sekh’s shirt, as the drow gently rubbed his hand down his spine, making his scars tingle beneath his shirt.

They lapsed into silence, for a time, and Astarion almost began to doze, before Sekh said, “I think Yenna might be in love.”

Astarion shot up at that, pushing himself to his knees and staring at Sekh with eyes. At the sudden movement Sekh laughed again, so much so that his belly had to ache with it. “What?” Astarion asked.

Sekh took a moment to compose himself, reaching up to wipe a tear away from one eye. “The way she’s looking at Dal- it’s precious.”

“Dal- Dalyria?” Astarion’s voice nearly cracked, and Sekh just grinned.

“Relax Starshine. It’s a crush- it was going to happen one of these days. Honestly, I respect her taste.” Sekh folded his arms, and Astarion frowned.

“I don’t know if I should be more alarmed that our Yenna is capable of a… crush,” he gestured almost wildly at the word, “or that you’re attracted to my sister!”

Sekh bit his lip, quite obviously trying to keep from a third bout of laughter. He was failing. Astarion reached out, shoved him- but Sekh grasped at his wrists, fell awkwardly onto his side, missing the pillows, and dragged Astarion with him. The elf sprawled over his husband, as Sekh squirmed about.

Astarion dipped down, kissed his jaw, before he pinched the meat of his shadowed cheek between his teeth playfully. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” Sekh whispered, playfully tugging at one of Astarion’s curls.

“Me? Of course not.” He pushed himself up, chose to settle his weight on Sekh’s waist as he straddled him, folding his arms.

Perhaps he was pouting. Just a little. Sekh just grinned up at him, the sort of smile that was unguarded, unrehearsed. The same kind that made Astarion’s insides tremble.

His pout fell away to a smile, and he found he was laughing at the man beneath him, at himself. “Perhaps a little,” he conceded, as Sekh lifted his arms, found Astarion’s hands and took them both, tangling their fingers together.

“No one in this life or any other could compare to you.” Sekh said it so seriously, despite the grin on his face. His mismatched eyes were locked on Astarion, making him feel seen- as the drow always did.

Once, it had been terrifying. But now?

Astarion wouldn’t have it any other way.

[onceandfuturelesbian]

Hello again....If you don't mind me asking, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series/ etc)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks so much if you want to answer.....

top 10 favourite media (in no particular order):

- the office (tv)

idk it’s just entertaining and a great show to rewatch over and over again (not a jim fan tho tbh)

- heartstopper (tv)

i LOVE nick and charlie’s relationship, i find nick’s struggle with his sexuality relatable, i loved s2 imogen and i cant wait to see more of her (i think she’s a lesbian tbh), most of all, i love the representation it brings to younger queer kids, the kind i didn’t have and wish i did.

- thor: ragnarok (movie)

ICONIC. SO GOOD. FUNNY. LOKI!!!!!! TESSA THOMPSON!!!!! one of my favourite movies

- a simple favor (movie)

obsessed with blake lively!!! absolutely stunning and an amazing actress!!!! anna kendrick is too. just a lesbian obsessed with blake lively!!! also the plot?!???!!!!!!?!!! so fucking good!! one of my fave movies tbh

- bbc merlin (tv)

i can’t even rewatch this show. like it makes me so sad. but i read fanfic about it every. single. day. only watched cause katie mcgrath is in it and now im obsessed with merthur fanfic.

- red, white and royal blue (movie)

pls it’s so good i can’t even explain

- supergirl (tv)

honestly not even one of my favourites but i loved having a woman superhero!!!! even if the script sucked, especially in the later seasons (forced feminism and queerbaiting). at least there was lesbianism ig ??

- new girl (tv)

such a fucking slay tbh !!! love this show sm !!!

- modern family (tv)

^see new girl^

- brooklyn nine-nine (tv)

^see new girl^

[princessmonochxkeme]

♱˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖙 ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚♱

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Miguel O'hara x fem! reader

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: On a story New York night, you bond with a handsome stranger in a library (over comics of course). Moments later, you're attacked on your way home, saved by none other than Spiderman. He'd been watching you since you left, and plans on doing so all night long.....

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 5.3k words

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: S-M-U-T !!! NSFW !!! BARK BARK WOOF WOOF !!! lol but fr-- voyerism, choking, age gap, oral (fem receiving), pussy play, nipple play, overstim, fangs/bloodsucking, pussy stretching, breeding (kinda)... I think that's everything. just, DO NOT interact if you're a minor lol.

𝕰𝖙𝖈.: Whelp, I'm despicable lol...and so are you if you read this and enjoy it ;))) Of note, Miggy is 30-35 in this story (that's how I view his Spiderverse character), and you're a first year law student (23-26 y/o).

**THIS IS A ONESHOT BUT I'M CONTINUEING THE SERIES ON A03 **

Lastly,-- there's one violent-ish scene but its pretty short. Happy reading <<;<3333

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Universe 1999J: 9:02 PM, Queens, Nueva York

The storm boomed in the background, thunder echoing through the halls of the library. You were in your early 20s, in the most exciting city in the world…spending your Friday night in a library. You’d been there studying for hours. A month into law school and you already had 2 exams on Monday (and you were less than prepared).. Isn’t this the life… you thought to yourself dryly. The most recent bout of lightning caused a power to surge, which you took as a sign to leave soon. You packed up your notes, and decided to check out the comics before you leave. You’d recently gotten into Marvel comics-- you loved the linework of the art, the vibrant colors, and the simple yet exciting stories. Maybe in a different life you’d be illustrating your own books, or better yet, protecting a city in a sexy spandex suit... Sigh.

It’d been a while since you read a Spiderman story-- there were too many to catch up on so you gave up. P….Q….R…. you say to yourself, scanning the isles. You finally reach the shelf you’re looking for, but some man is blocking it. You immediately notice how large he is-- more than a foot taller than you with broad strapping shoulders. It was ironic, but he looked like he could’ve been a comic hero. Nevertheless, he was focused on whatever he was reading and didn’t notice your presence. “Hi, excuse me…” you say quietly “Do you mind if I look at the Spider-Man comics for a sec?” He looked at you, subtly embarrassed.. Getting a good look at his face you noticed he was gorgeous: Caramel brown skin, dark wavy hair, and perfectly chiseled features….not, not bad at all…. “I’m sorry, go right ahead.” He kindly apologized. “Thanks...have any good recommendations?” You replied, hoping to prolong your convo with this DILF-y stranger. “Actually, the one I’m reading is pretty good! I’ve read it about 100 times but it never gets old.” He smiled and handed you the book. “Spiderman 2099….” you read the title out loud. “Cool, I think I played a PS4 game with him once.” He rolled his eyes at your response, flashing his white teeth with a playful smile. “That’s how everyone knows him. OGs learned about him the real way.” he said, tapping the book. “Ohhh brother, whatever you say old man…” you smile back deviously. He looked 35 at most, but still noticeably older than your 24. “Please, I’m not that old” He chuckled back at you. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but was he flirting right now? “SHHH!” The librarian looked in your direction, glaring at the both of you. “Sorry!” you mouthed back at her. “Anyways..” he whispered “I hope you enjoy the comic, you have good taste.” You thanked him and walked away, preparing to check out the book.

You ended up leaving the library a bit later than you intended. It was almost 9:30 and you still had a 30 minute subway ride home. There were other, closer libraries to campus, but this one had beautiful marble architecture and was open later-- shame it was in a crappy part of town. Born and raised in Nueva York, you knew how to handle yourself at night: music on, head down, “fuck off” is the default response. You begin the familiar route to the station, scrolling through a thai menu for the place near your apartment. “Larb gai…basil stir fry…mang-” within seconds someone pulled you into an alley, slamming you against the wall. You’d dropped your umbrella, and rain started soaking you. “Don’t try to fucking scream cuz no one will hear you. If you try any funny shit, I’ll blow your pretty head off.” the man whispered in your ear. You felt the cool metallic barrel press into your temple, and with a click you knew the gun was ready to fire. “What do you want….” You manage to say. “Drop the bag” he commanded. You comply, removing your backpack and dropping it to the ground. “There’s nothing in there I’m broke” You tried to plea. “SHUT UP.” He retorted, keeping a gun aimed at you while scouring through your things. After stripping your wallet of any cards and cash he turns his sights back to you, scanning your body for valuables. “Drop the phone, and take your fucking sneakers off” “...What?” “FUCKING DO IT OR I SWEAR--” he screamed. What happened next was a blur.

Out of nowhere, a masked man slammed the robber's skull into the ground, twisting his arm back in an unnatural angle. The sudden struggle caused the gun to go off, making you scream for cover. Although it was dark, you could see the man was wearing a black and red suit with a webbed pattern. ‘W-Who are you?” You tried to ask. The masked figure looked at you before returning his attention to the scum below him. The robber tried in vain to wiggle free, only making things worse. With his back turned to you, the masked figure hunched over the robber, biting him in the neck. He choked on his own blood, twitching in the mangled position. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck… You think to yourself as the ordeal unfolds. For good measure, the masked man shoots webbed material over the robber, ensuring he can't move. Paralyzed in shock, you stare at the person who’d just saved you. He grabbed your stolen items, and reached a hand out to return them to you…but you were frozen. The suit, the webs, the insignia on his chest….you must’ve been losing your mind. “Are you….” you started“....Spiderman?” He finished awkwardly. “Well I was going to say real…but yeah that works, too.” You replied, finally grabbing your things. “I…um….thank you...” You said sheepishly. “Thank me later, we need to leave” he said firmly. “Wait what--” You start as the sirens in the background louder. “Hold onto me unless you want to go to explain this to the cops.” Reluctantly, you grab onto him before he shoots a web into the air. Within seconds he lifts the both of you up to the top of a random building, away from the police. “Sorry to be so hasty back there, are you ok?” He looks at you concerned. Your mind still hasn’t fully processed what’s just happened.

“...Uhhh….yeah...sure….”. You start. “Just to make sure I have everything right, someone just tried to rob me at gunpoint, Spiderman is real…and is you…and you just saved me….and now I’m on top of a 12 story building in the rain?” “...sounds about right.” he confirmed. “Well, at least I’m not concussed…” you say dryly, eliciting a chuckle from him. “I have so many questions but, I don’t have the mental energy to ask right now….” “Understood.” he replied, relieved he wouldn’t have to explain himself. “Ok I do have one question….can you take me to the Subway station? I just want to go home…” “Of course, but honestly if you’re up for it, I could probably get you home faster myself.” he replied. “By…swinging through the city in a storm?” you replied skeptically. “Well….yeah. You're pretty easy to carry.” he chuckled. “Plus you don’t really notice the rain when you’re swinging.” “Hmm…I don��t know….you seem a little old to be Spiderman…what if you drop me?” You cross your arms squinting at him. He was admittedly huge and towered over you, but he sounded too old to be Peter Parker….and in a strange way, his voice sounded familiar. You couldn’t pin it to anyone in particular, but you’ve definitely heard it somewhere. “Old? Please, I’m not that old…” He muttered. With that phrase, you recognized him as the man from the library. Your eyes widened as you realized this, but you fixed your face before he could notice. “Also, trust me, or don’t. But at the very least you’ll need my help getting back to the ground.” He continued. Shit, he was right. The more you mulled it over, this was a rare opportunity! How many people could say they’d swung through the city with Spider-Man? Besides, an uber home was laughably expensive, and you really didn’t want to wait on the subway with more potential creeps. “What the hell…let’s do it. But I swear to god if you drop me….” You hooked your arms around his neck, while one of his strong arms tightly wrapped around your waist. “Whatever you do, don’t let go…” And just like that you were off...

In the beginning you clenched your eyes shut, screaming in fear. But after a couple minutes, you got used to the sensation. He was right, you were going so fast you couldn’t feel the rain. You opened your eyes, regretfully noticing how high up you were, and silently buried your face in his neck. “It’s ok….I got you….” reassured you. He held you a little tighter so you’d feel secure. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but you couldn’t help but think how…romantic this all was? A tall, handsome, mysterious hero, whisking you through the New York skyline, chest to chest…You dreamily smiled the rest of the ride home, and as promised, he had you there in minutes. He gently lowered down onto your fire-escape, which was conveniently placed outside your bedroom window. “There you are…safe and sound.” he said kindly. “Thank you so much! I don’t have the words to express how much you’ve helped me tonight…” “Don’t worry about it kid, just try not to walk alone so late at night. You never know who’s watching…” He replied. He was happy he was there to protect you this time, but didn’t want you putting yourself in harm's way again. A cute girl like you could easily attract trouble. “Yeah…” You say biting your lip. “I’m lucky you were at the library tonight, Spidey.” “I- What do you- What library….” He stumbled. You couldn’t see it, but his face turned bright red under his mask. “It was pretty obvious.” you laughed sweetly. “Your suit looks just like the one in the comic you ‘recommended’, but your voice really sealed the deal. Tell me I’m wrong.” You smirked at him. Sighing in defeat, he removed his mask, revealing the handsome face you saw earlier. “Alright, alright, you caught me nena.” He confessed. “Nena?” you questioned. “Yes, nena.” He teased. “...and you can call me Miguel.” He said warmly, looking down at your lips. You notice this and move your gaze to his, gradually leaning in to kiss each other. You rested your palms on his defined chest while he caressed your cheek with his hand. The kiss was velvety and sweet, the perfect ending to this disastrous night. “Goodnight, Miguel.” you smiled up at him. You open your window to enter the apartment, and by the time you turn around he’s already gone. You plop your bag on the floor and begin to shed your wet clothes. Fortunately the books weren’t water damaged since you wrapped them in a plastic shopping bag-- a habit you formed after a different stormy New York night. Exhausted, you take a hot shower to decompress. You think about a lot of things, but mostly him--, how he got his powers, where he came from, and if you’d ever see him again… little do you know he never left.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Universe 1999J: 11:06 PM, Brooklyn, Nueva York

Freshly moisturized, you exit the bathroom with a cloud of steam. You rummage around your laundry looking for something to sleep in. Normally you like to keep the place tidy, but you were not in the mood to fold right now. You settle on a white t-shirt with red trim, and one of your many lacy black thongs, drowsily flopping on your bed. You tried to fall asleep, listening to the panging raindrops and rolling thunder….but you can’t. The storm drones on as you replay the night’s events in your head. The alley, the robber, the gun, Spiderman.....Spiderman. You really met a living comic book character today. He was so much bigger than you expected-- what was he, 6’8? 6’9? In the comics he seemed scrawnier, in a cute, boy next door way. THIS Spiderman was a pure beefcake. Although he was friendly, you were surprised to see such a statuesque man in a public library. A man with that jawline should be running for office, starring in movies…but he wasn’t. To think he held you in his arms just an hour ago, whisking you through the city…kissing you on your fire escape…Your body ran warm thinking about how handsome he looked: his sprawling back, powerful biceps, juicy quads, all covered in black webbed fibers…You slowly graze your hand over your panties, while your other hand squeezes your breasts. You move your panties to the side, and let out a soft, breathy moan as you begin to explore the sticky wetness between your legs. The dramatic flickering background fades as you play with yourself. “Ahh-…” you rasp through your aching lips… But between gasps, you swear you see spider man's silhouette standing at your fire escape. Startled, you hastily move to your window…ultimately disappointed when no one’s there. Any sane person would shut their curtains, down a xanax, and try to forget the traumas of tonight. But right now, you were anything but sane. You became irrationally horny at the thought of Miguel watching you fuck yourself. Your mind flooded with thoughts of him, strong enough to rip through steel and asphalt, lusting for your body behind a sheet of glass. Lulled by your unrelenting imagination, you stick a second finger in your gushing hole. Lust coursed through you like a siren luring your prey. You closed your eyes and moaned as you rolled your nipples in little circles. The little buds start to harden, peaking through your t-shirt. Once more, you creep one of your hands slowly down your taught stomach before stroking your panties…a growing wet circle already formed on the cloth--all for him. With hooded eyes, you pump your fingers in and out of your soaking pussy… “Fuck…Miguel…” you moan in a trance. Crazy as it sounded, you desperately wanted him to watch come undone...

….and he was. “Fuck…” he unintentionally echoed, watching you in the pouring shadows. He originally told himself he’d watch you fall asleep from afar, JUST to make sure you’re safe-- then he’d leave. But if he was being honest, he knew you were safe when he dropped you off (albeit stupid for fingering yourself with uncovered windows). For starters, you lived on the top-floor in an off campus studio apartment, plus he’d watched you check to make sure the front door was locked. At this point, we was aware his intentions were self-serving. He thought you were cute when you bumped into him at the library, but after the fire-escape kiss he wanted more of you. He wanted to ask you out on a proper date, get to know you better, old-fashioned courting ...but he wasn’t sure how--there were just so many variables to consider. He wasn’t from your dimension, and once his mission ended there wouldn’t be a justifiable reason to stay. It was already bad enough that a civilian found out his identity, and the more time he spent with you the more your life was endangered. Everything about his infatuation was problematic. But then he thought to himself…were things really that bad? There’s no spiderman in this universe, he’s just a myth here. You were a smart girl, he could probably explain things to you…right? “My name is Miguel O’Hara, I’m the leader of an interdimensional Spiderman force that’s keeping the fabric of the universe together…don’t tell anyone.” Pondering different hypothetical confessions, he knew this pursuit was stupid at best. Coming to his senses, he prepared to return to HQ, that is….until you started your performance.

The sight of you pleasing your supple body awoke something primal in him-- his eyes glared crimson and fangs unwittingly sprouted. As if this vision couldn’t become more delicious, he was able to hear you moan his name with his superhuman senses. The longer he stared, the larger the aching tent in his suit grew. He wanted to taste every inch of your body-- feel your perky nipples on his rough tongue. He wished his thick fingers were sliding in and out of you….better yet, he wanted to watch you unravel he stretched your pretty, wet pussy, filling you inch by inch. Reaching his limit, he immediately rushed to your fire escape. But of course, lighting had to strike in that instance, nearly revealing his stalking gaze. He was able to climb to the roof of your building, hiding just in time for you to come to the window…but it was a close call. Way to close. During the next eruption of thunder he returned to his original vantage point, far enough to remain undetected, but close enough to keep an eye on you. He was sure he frightened you given the events that transpired earlier that night…but he was wrong? Not only were you fingering yourself again, you were aimlessly looking his way. He knew you couldn’t see him through the turbulent darkness, but was stunned at the implication: you knew he was watching-- and you wanted him to. You were putting on a private show just for him, one that he refused to miss….

…You continued staring into the distance, fingering yourself for your deviant admirer-- at this point you were just as perverted as him. You bit your pouty lower lip, turned on by the gushy noises your body made for him…if only he could hear. “Come back…” you whimpered, looking into the stormy nothingness outside. As the thunder continued to rage, the lightning revealed another towering silhouette on your fire escape. You were so horny by now you thought you hallucinated him. You’d never been this down bad before, and you were still running off adrenaline. Ignoring what you saw, you moaned louder, slipping another finger into your spongey warmth. You could barely keep your eyes open as pleasure radiated throughout you…until lighting stroke again, and the body--his body was still there. Chest heaving, you sit up, crawling across your bed to open the window. The lights were off, but you could make out more details of him with every move you made--the red of his suit, contours of his muscular frame, and lastly, a bold spider in the middle of a webbed suit. For a second, you stare up at his towering frame, admiring his imposing presence. Now that you were closer, you noticed his warm brown eyes were now a piercing red shade, undressing you through the glass of your window-- He was frighteningly handsome. With a click, you unlatch the window and open it as wide as you can. You expect his entrance to be awkward given his size, but he moves with an unexpected quickness that makes you fall back on your elbows. “Long time no see..” you mutter “Likewise…” he returns with a smirk.

You watch him as he grabs your towel off the desk chair, drying his face and hair. To your surprise, you hear muffled laughter coming from his direction. “What’s so funny?” You asked.. You were at the edge of your bed, on your knees with crossed arms. He threw the towel down, smirking as he approached you. “You are.” he replied smuggly. He placed an index finger under your chin, and tenderly traced your lips with his thumb. Forcing you to look up at his crimson gaze, he wrapped his other arm around your waist, drawing you closer to him. You clumsily put your hands on his pecs for stability (but also to feel for yourself). “Tsk tsk tsk…. I save you from imminent danger tonight, and not even 2 hours later you’re letting a stranger into your apartment. Que tonta….” he teased. “Oops….” you say with an insincere smile.

He moved the hand caressing your chin to the nape of your neck, gripping a handful of your hair. With gentle swiftness, he forces your head back, exposing the length of your neck. You inhaled sharply as he grazed the delicate skin with his lips…then his fangs.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” he mumbles into you, smiling. You had no clue, but desperately wanted to find out. His words coursed through you like electricity.

“...Want a bite?” You half joked. A part of you didn’t believe he would, but in the back of your mind you were terrified….it was exhilarating.

“Don’t test me nena…” With that he swirled his tongue, leaving velvety kisses along your jugular. You let out a repressed moan, melting into his dark embrace-- and then you felt them. A stream of blood trickled down your clavicle as his fangs plunged into you. Your tense body was too shocked to release a scream, and your pupils dilated at the sensation. Despite your haziness, you noticed he wasn’t actually drinking you….no, this felt much different. A stinging warmth radiated through your throat, then the rest of your body like a shot of whiskey. It burned through you in the best way possible, and disoriented you all the same…”what is this?”, you thought, “....what is HE?” Your senses ebbed and flowed--the pounding New York rain melding into his intense grip. Mere seconds felt like an eternity as he poured his hell into you, but you weren’t scared. If anything…you liked it? There was no time to ponder your questionable decision making-- when he was done, you were an intoxicated, tingling mess.

You finally look at him again, the lower half of his face red with your blood. Subconsciously, you bite your lower lip turned on by his brutish appearance. Snaking your arms around his neck, you passionately kiss him, a drunken smile forming against his lips . He follows your lead without an ounce of hesitancy. Your kisses evolved from urgent, to desperate, then feverish, his tongue battling yours for dominance. You got a taste of your neck blood during the exchange, savoring the metallic flavor. Hungrily, you bit his lower lip, getting a delicious grunt out of him before pulling away. You stared at each other with restless eyes and parted lips .

“Why did you stop?” he asked with frustrated curiosity.

“Because…” you start as you reposition yourself. You lean back on your elbows, arching your chest chest up, and opening your legs to him“… I want you to taste the rest of me.” you drag your hands up the sides of your torso before grazing fingertips over your nipples. He let your words linger for a second…meeting your coy gaze with a grin.

“Careful what you ask for, Nena….I’ll ruin you” he says with his last iota of restraint.

“So then ruin me, Spidey…” you taunt him. Right now, your body needed him in ways your mind couldn’t explain. Your eyes widen as claws grow out the tips of his hand, as if he’d read your mind. Before you can process his mutation, he tears your shirt clean in half-- your pretty tits bouncing out to greet him. “Oh-” you blush trying in vain to cover them, but Miguel won’t have it.

“Move your hands…” he commanded darkly, pinning your hands at either side of your head. Fully vulnerable to him, he immediately starts devouring you. He swirls his tongue over your nipples, licking, sucking, and them like his last meal. His lips feel heavenly as they savor your tender chest….Growling into you, he takes is time kissing a line down your stomach…..lower…and lower…stopping right at your soaking panties. With finesse, the lacy thong met the same fate as your shirt. “Much better” he said matter-of-factly.

You were now fully exposed to him, so vulnerable to his touch and every whim-- exactly what he wanted. He hooked his arms under your thighs, hungrily pulling you towards his devilish mouth. He relished at the sight of your luscious body, trapped in an explicit pose. Legs on his shoulders, he started slow…his tongue licking a line down your wet entrance. He groaned knowing your juices were meant for him, licking your opening over and over. After this initial tasting, he became even more depraved-- You were so sweet, and so deliciously reactive. He unhooked one of his arms so he could spread your pretty pink hole open…it was so beautiful. You both let out a loud moan as his tongue plunged into your sweetness. He was in a trance, bobbing his head viscously between your thighs, causing your shaky hand to grip his hair. Your touch was a catalyst, further igniting his animalistic need for you. More, more, more…..nothing would ever be enough. He started to rise, pressing your thighs back to your ears. With this new angle, he could push his tongue even further in you, taking you to new highs. “M-Miguel…Oh god….” you struggled. ‘How cute’ he smiled to himself. Burrowing his nose into your clit, he’d gotten you to cum in his mouth (exactly what he wanted). He didn’t stop until you were a shivering mess from the overstimulation. He finally removed his mouth, anxious to see your post-cum body. To his immense pleasure, you were a mess-- skin flush, tits heaving, eyes barely open. The bed sank as he crawled over you, his body resting between your legs. He kissed you slow and steady this time-- giving you a chance to savor your own juices. “Open your eyes nena…we’re not finished”.

Obeying, you daze up at your tangled bodies: his forehead on yours, his arms caging you, his bulge pressing into your sensitive center….but he still had on that goddamned suit. You tug the fabric covering his abs, silently telling him to take it off. He obliged, making the suit melt off in a wave of pixels. Being skin to skin, centimeters under him, it was the best view in the world. He looked like a renaissance sculpture and was easily the most attractive person you’d been with. You eagerly drag your fingertips down rippled core, tugging down on the elastic of his compression shorts. It's a bit of a struggle since he’s so huge, but eventually, it plops down on your stomach: thick, 9 inches, perfectly brown, curved, and leaking pre-cum. Without realizing it, a bewildered expression washed over your face-- where was this supposed to go????? You hear him chuckle lowly as he flips you on your stomach with ease. He raises your hips to his, using his other hand to stretch your back into a perfect slope. Next, he starts a trail of soft wet kisses down your spine, causing you to shiver with each contact. “Fuck you’re so cute….” He whispers into your ear. He bites it as he curls his fingers into your sticky slit--forcing a loud moan out of you. “I haven’t even fucked you and I have you like this…I can’t wait to stretch you out princesa…” . His thick fingers pumping you, his warm breath on your neck, his low seductive voice-- it was all too much for you. “...Please Miguel…please….” “Please what? You’re a big girl use your words” he taunted, but you couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck me! Stretch me out!” you yelled out desperately. He took his fingers out your pussy and started pumping them in your mouth, in and out…..in and out. Once you licked him clean, he spread your ass wide-- exposing your tight, wet, aching opening. He slowly dragged his dick along your slit before finally sliding the tip in. “Mmm” he said while you gasped. FUCK you needed more….He continued teasing you, making you wetter and wetter until he savagely thrust the whole thing in you. His rhythm starts off slow, giving you time to adjust to the fullness. You felt SO good clenching around his throbbing cock. The image of him stretching you, the squishy sounds you made, the way your ass jiggled with his thrusts---you made him absolutely feral. He wrapped a clawed hand around your throat, choking you as he pounded into your hole. Your moans became animalistic as he squeezed the out of you, owning you. You tried (and failed) to maintain your arch as he thrust into your g-spot over and over “AH Miguel, fuck….” you said deliriously. “Not yet nena, Fuck not yet…” he grunted. With superhuman speed, he flipped you on your back again. This time you were in a mating press with your hands pinned above your head. He grunted several obscenities while sliding back into you. The clapping of his thrusts competed with the raging thunder outside-- droplets of rain mimicking the sweat on your bodies. When things couldn’t feel any better, he started rubbing on your rock hard clit, crushing his lips against yours to swallow your moan. “Fuck Nena…can I--” “Yes, fuck…please cum in me…” you greedily finished his sentence. With a final sweaty thrust, you finished together. He collapsed on top of you, a panting, blissful mess. He released your hands, allowing you to rub his broad back and shoulders as you kissed.

Catching his breath, he slid out of you and came to your side. He tenderly moved your body towards him, making you his little spoon-- the beast had swiftly morphed into a teddy bear. “So Spidey…do you live far?,” you joked. “You could say that…” He smirked warmly. “Could I trouble you for a place to sleep tonight?” “Maybe…but you should probably sleep on couch. Could be dangerous to let a ‘strange man’ sleep in my bed.” you teased him. Smiling down at you, he caressed your cheek and began to kiss you again. You did this for a while, eventually drifting off in his arms. “Good night Nena…” he said once you’d dozed off already, affectionately kissing your forehead. You both slept peacefully that night, Miguel sleeping better than he had in years.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

The next morning, you woke up naked…and alone. Disappointed, you got out of bed to piece together what had happened, did you make last night up? Fortunately, you noticed the scraps of your thong and t shirt on the floor--last night was definitely real. You got up and looked in your mirror, analyzing your body. You longingly grazed over the hickies he left all over your chest-- your favorite were the bite marks on your neck. Last night was like something out of a movie, the most interesting thing that ever happened to you…..and it was over. You didn’t have a phone number, social media, hell you didn’t even know his last name. He just came into your life, gave you the best dick of your life, and bounced. Typical, back to Earth you went. Recalibrating to your normal boring life, you start to get ready for your day…when you notice something on your desk…a gift bag? You reach inside to pull out a brand new thong and t shirt, a rose, and Plan B with a sticky note on it “Sorry nena, I’ll be more careful next time. Thanks for last night. - M.” ….Next time? It was a short note…but you endlessly looped those words in your brain. With this, a small smile crept on your face. You continued your morning routine, interrupted with thoughts of your next Miguel encounter…..

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Ahhhhh that was my first fanfic! Hope yall liked it :))) PLEASE comment and provide feedback (I'm kinda a slut for comments lol). Anyways, shameless Ao3 plug if you want to support the rest of this series: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48369409/chapters/121995508#workskin

Bye for now xxx

[iheartgod175]

Multo's a Psychic? - The Zula Patrol Explained

Edit (4/24/24): Updated this with some more information, and cleaned up some things!

NOTE #1: This post contains some spoilers for events that will be appearing in a few of my Zula Patrol fics—namely, The Zula Patrol: Dreamscape Crusade Remastered. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

NOTE # 2: This contains mentions of death, blood, and disturbing imagery as well as mental torture.

Well, here I am, back with another lore post! I totally didn’t write this so I could yell about one of my favorite characters of all time. I SWEAR. XD

But yeah, this is going to be a fun post talking about an obscure fact about The Zula Patrol that was removed from the actual cartoon. As soon as I did some more digging, I knew I had to bring it back for this fanfic!

Alright, stop stalling. What IS This Cool Thing?

Glad you asked!

In the original books that Deb Manchester wrote for The Zula Patrol, the stalwart alien team was a little different than we know them. For one thing, they weren’t stupid like they are in the cartoon series (well, stupid would be too strong a word, but I can't think of another one to justify how they constantly fall for Truder’s schemes even though they SHOULD’VE figured them out by now). Oh, and neither was Dark Truder, but I'll get to him in another post. Their personalities were kinda set in stone, though, so there’s that.

Another way that they were different ties to their abilities—specifically, the ability of the team’s scientist, Multo.

Yes, you saw that right. In the original books, Multo could see the future. In addition to his smarts, he'd be called upon by Bula to use his visions to help the team (in this case, helping Zeeter navigate out of the dark side of an eclipse before she crashed). It’s an ability that is nowhere to be seen in the cartoon. My guess is that some things had to be changed before making it to television, and his future seeing ability had to go. After watching the show and reading a few of the books, I realized how hard they kinda nerfed the team, namely Multo. His psychic powers along with his smarts would've made him the most OP member of the force by default!

Once I learned about this, I knew I had to include it in the Remastered edition of Dreamscape Crusade, albeit with its own twists. Multo's psychic powers make a return in DCR under a new name: the Third Sight.

What is the Third Sight?

To put it simply, the Third Sight is an innate psychic ability that allows its holder to have short visions of the future. It cannot be taught; one has to be born with it, and it develops at a young age through an initiation process known as a “Breach”. It’s so named because many aliens consider this to be a “third line of sight” (kind of like the proverbial "third eye"). There are many advantages to it, such as predicting events and preventing horrible situations, like the one described above.

However, Third Sight is a tricky, fickle thing. For one thing, the “Breach” is a dangerous process that deals with the recipient fighting the inner demons and struggles of their minds—some are so horrifying that those who undergo it have fallen into comas they can never awaken from. Those who do wake up are changed completely by the experience, in both personality and thought process, and are unable to share their thoughts for weeks. Some visions can cause pain to users’ nerves and can disrupt sensory perception as well. Even experienced users are known to suffer from debilitating migraines. While it's terrifying to undergo as a child, those who go through it as an adult face a more harrowing process. Those who were "late bloomers" have said they wouldn't wish pain like this on their worst enemies.

The second trouble with the Third Sight is its accuracy, which varies from person to person. It's not always accurate, and some aliens have abused their power to con others out of their money. This is actually so common that those with surprising accuracy are considered rare. Those who have near-perfect accuracy in their visions of the future are heralded as visionaries, and are highly sought after, often by other aliens who want to use them for their nefarious purposes.

Many had this ability, though their abilities differ in power level. While the Third Sight is generally used strategically, truly powerful (or psychotic/sadistic) wielders can utilize it in a way that can assault their victims' minds. This vicious attack, known as Flashpoint, is also known as the "Mind Melt" due to its ability to break someone's psyche to an irreversible degree.

One way to tell that someone is developing the Third Sight ability is that they develop a very high sensitivity to touch, and/or experience mental fog and increased pain in their head/behind the eyes. For those who are just starting to see visions, the Third Sight provokes a condition known as haemolacria (crying tears of blood). While humans see this as a rare, but benign condition, Zuleans see this as an omen of coming trouble.

So, what about Multo? How does he use it and how did he get it?

Multo’s Third Sight puts him at a visionary level, something that he’s aware of. As for how he got his Third Sight, I'd love to share how, but I'd be spoiling my fic at this rate. Chapter 4 of DCR will definitely explain all!

Multo uses it like he did in the books, often when the Zula Patrol needs to prevent disasters from happening. His particular set of skills allows him to feel people's emotions and mental states through touch, allowing him to sense the true intent and meaning behind their words. He's also sensitive to changes in the environment, with those having brought about sudden visions without having to touch anything/anybody. In some cases, he's even events (namely the past), though not the complete thing. For him, though, he suffers terrible pain upon having these visions because they come to him suddenly, barely giving him a moment to process them. As he explained to Bula and Zeeter, it feels like flash bombs go off in his mind and eyes. For this reason, he'd try to avoid physical contact unless necessary, which changes later when he gets into relationships (with Precipito in DCR, and Zeeter in Love Language). When he has a truly horrendous vision, it causes him great physical agony. Thankfully, this has only happened once, as read below.

Being someone who doesn't like to worry others, he kept his powers hidden for years, as he knew that people would try to use him for their own selfish gain. He told his close friends Autofocus and Precipito, naturally, but didn't tell his teammates because he was worried about how they'd take it. He'd come clean to his teammates later, however, when a gruesome vision of his friends dying in an accident caused him to collapse, bloody tears coming from his eyes. When he came to, all he could tell them was to run away, and they did...right as a rocket crashed where they were standing. He was relieved when they didn't hate him for his ability, although they were freaked out when they saw his physical pain and urged him to get help for it.

How he uses it in Dreamscape Crusade Remastered is much, MUCH different. But you'll get to see more of it as the story progresses.

Out of curiosity, who's the most powerful?

The most powerful one is Ungor, a mysterious being who lived during the Previous Zulean Era, and is tied in with Paragor’s past (for context, this character is mentioned in chapter 3 of TZP: DCR, and debuts in chapter 4). He's rightfully considered to be the father of Third Sight, as his accuracy was unparalleled, and second to Paragor himself, there was no equal. On Zula, he’s regarded as a god…something that he finds strange since for all intents and purposes, he's agnostic. As of the moment, he’s only slated to appear in TZP: DCR, though he MAY appear in that ZP/SW/MQ/DS idea I had.

There are a few more people that have this ability, but I’m going to save them for when I update this post after chapter 4 is updated. There will be quite a few surprises ^^

I hope you guys like this post, and do leave a like/reblog if ya did!

[lioncunt]

"send me a character" Armand?

YESSSS

first impression: my first impression of him was from the movie when i was a freshman in high school, and i honestly wasn’t super into him. i love antonio banderas but he just didn’t grab me as armand, especially since i hated brad pitt louis so much and all of his scenes are with pitt. when i first read the book after watching the movie, i at first didn’t trust him with louis, but i loved their scenes together and their discussions and i really wished the movie actually adapted them properly. then by the end, once i was finally on board with their relationship, louis didn’t care for him anymore and i was heartbroken for him. so i had an interesting start with armand!

impression now: i would literally die for him, i’ve felt such intense love for him ever since i read tvl and now after reading tva i think he’s one of the best written and absolutely the most complex character in the series. his arc is PHENOMENAL, the depth of sympathy i have for him is enormous despite all he’s done, his character voice and style of writing is so mesmerizing and the tragedy of all that’s befell him makes me want to cry. at the same time, the way he writes around certain incidents and explains his wrongdoings is so fascinating; he never mentions the interactions with lestat in paris, and he glosses over his reaction to marius being alive, and you just have to wonder WHY. he is an enigma and my best friend and all that i adore and my god i am so excited for assad’s portrayal of him

favorite moment: there’s like……so many to choose from but i will always love him pushing lestat off the tower it was the first moment that i was like. oh he’s a BITCH . thank god. from tva it’s the swordfight with the guy he slept with it’s just such a cool scene and i loved how brave he was 🥹

idea for a story: i want to see a comedy where he lestat and louis try to live together in book verse i think it would be v funny. like the odd throuple

unpopular opinion: in the show he is not mind controlling louis he’s just saying “your ex is a piece of shit” over and over again and failing to disclose his stint with human experimentation. in the book pretty much all of his acts of evil are so understandable from his mindset, it’s so clear why he does the things he does and i could never hate him for any of it, he’s just so interesting to me

favorite relationship: it’s a really solid tie in the books between devil’s minion and armandstat. for a while devil’s minion was my second favorite ship, but honestly i think armandstat has overtaken them for the time being. in the show idk yet!! i project a lot of my book feelings onto him cause that’s all we have to go off of, but i’m excited for all his relationships in the show

favorite headcanon: he likes to crawl around on the ceiling and just stay there until daniel comes in and turns on the light and then he screams

[astrowaffles]

A through Z for the ask game >:]

HI JAMMIE

this is another long one, bear with me!

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Uhhhhh well obviously I'm loving the gojo & megumi father-son shit at the moment, it really heals the depression. ALSO @grungeeuvu (alt. account @grungiiuvu) has gotten me back into MXTX, especially TGCF, so fengqing is top of my romantic ship list at the moment. I keep meaning to write something for them. Whoopsies.

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

my jjk moots are going to think i'm insane for this, but itafushi. It did NOT occur to me when I watched the anime, but then someone suggested it to me and then I rewatched with new eyes and ... yeah. itafushi canon.

also kuromikashou. I'm a fan of that now, too.

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

the rats are going to absolutely hate this announcement, but ushioi and oikage. Hate them both. oisuga? sure. iwaoi? love it. oihina? don't see it as a long term thing, but don't care. even atsuoi is passable. But both ushioi and oikage really irriate me for zero reason.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

bokuroo. they make total logical sense and they'd be hilarious together, but to me they're besties. sorry guys :(

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

i hear lots of good things about my JNT Rulebook, which is a whole load of crack. Also, for AOT i wrote Chaos Theory, which earned comments like "I had no idea funny fics were possible for this fandom". If you are a long-term aot girlie, I am so sorry for your loss.

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Uh, I'm not sure? The first fandom I contributed to was PJO. I was there for maybe two years, and that's probably my record. I'm just over one year on haikyuu now. I'M SORRY I JUST KEEP CHANGING INTERESTS

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

My very first OTP was probably Eadric & Emma from The Frog Princess series. It doesn't really have a fandom but god, I loved those books... OR Ash & Serena from Pokemon. They were good too.

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

I mainly watch anime at the moment and usually they have more active fandoms, so I'm happy to stay with them. With books, you can never be sure that anyone else has ever read them.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

Nope, because I am good at staying away from scary people. #slay

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr.

Supernatural. No explanation needed.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

From Haikyuu, it's got to be Hinata, hasn't it? And he's weirdly underrated, considering he's literally the main character.

From other fandoms, I love Yona from Yona of the Dawn. She goes from literal spoiled princess to some kind of warrior queen, PLUS she gains emotional maturity. May we all grow to be like her.

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves.

You know what, guys? I do think Goshiki's cute. I do understand wanting to put him in your pocket. Personally, I don't, but I totally see it.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Sugawara. He's top tier friend material - chaotic, funny, caring, and would definitely feed into your delulu.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

My main fandom is probably haikyuu, so I wish I saw more of:

Appreciation for the writing!!!

Love for main characters. It sounds weird, but the fandom is full of people who have a pet side character who barely has any lines. This is GOOD, all character deserve appreciation, but can we get some applause for hinata??

Love for rarepairs. This sounds even stranger, considering my last point, but we need to get used to letting people ship whoever the fuck they want. As long as it's legal.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

After a good old shuffle of my 94 hour playlist, I got Bad Romance by lady gaga. This is gonna come out of left field because I've never mentioned this fandom before, but it's sherliam from moriarty the patriot.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

I've mentioned this to friends before, but we totally need a TGCF hosptial au. Mu Qing is a surgeon, Feng Xin is a physiotherapist, Xie Lian is either a GP or an anesthesiologist, and Hua Cheng is some random reception guy. Mu Qing is always bullying Feng Xin for not being a 'real doctor'. Hualian are married. you see where I'm going.

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

Harry Potter, for obvious reasons.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

I would die for Nobara & Itadori & Megumi. They deserved to be happy forever.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon

I wrote whole sections of fanfiction based off my headcanon that Megumi has flat hair like Toji, but he styles it spiky to be like Gojo. I KNOW the canon disproves it. I don't actually care.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Nope, because I am non-confrontational and uncreative.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

I'm going niche on this one - well, more like going into fandoms my followers probably aren't into.

Ayame Sohma, Fruits Basket. Loving brother, perfect example of how to make reparations, and also literally fabulous. And gay.

Ooharano, All Out!. Voice by Ian Sinclair, very good at his sport, hilariously sarcastic. Emotional backstory that was just never mentioned again???

Siatrich Wynknight, The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up At The Duke's Mansion. Very funny, likes to be a bit evil for the giggles, thinks it's funny when his younger brother endangers national relations. Gay.

V - Which character do you relate to most?

GUYS I HAVE NO IDEA. I'm probably closest to Bokuto or Kageyama - and that seems odd, because they're different people, but that's how I am.'

Also Gojo. Don't tell my readers I said that.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Exes to Lovers, my beloathed. Hate it so much, I can't even explain why.

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS CHILDHOOD FRIENDS "I KNOW THE PARTS OF YOU THAT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOURSELF" MY BELOVED

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

RWBY, ITSV, Demon Slayer.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go!

I guess I've always been interested in the idea of a true morally grey character, because sometimes there are characters that are described as morally grey, or even evil, when they're actually Just A Guy (*cough* Oikawa *cough*). The only character I can think of is probably Dazai from BSD. Everyone has an opinion and very few of them are correct. There is no way you can say he is a bad person, because many of his issues come from the fact that he is an orphan, raised by the mafia, and someone who took the opportunity to leave when prompted. Also, in his life after the mafia, he made a genuine effort to make good on his promises and fix his life, including saving Atsushi.

HOWEVER, you can't say he's a totally good person. He lived well in the mafia, because he didn't care about killing people and perhaps even enjoyed it, depending on how you view certain scenes. Many people would say that he's still not on anyone's side, he's only on his own side. This is debatable, but it's still there. PLUS you've got his continuation of the cycle of abuse through Akutagawa, and his willingness to pretend to betray his friends in order to get the outcome he wants. Everyone else is just a pawn to him.

I'm still undecided on him, but I'm proud of every fan that says "he's morally grey" rather than cutting it up into black and white. Remember that BSD was written for the stray dogs, not the ones who have lived happily all this time...

Thanks for the ask!

[sungbeam]

HELLO?? ACTUALLY NO YOU DID NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO SHOW THE WIPS(/jkjk) BC NOW IT’LL BE THE ONLY THINGS I THINK ABT NAURRRRR

ARGH I JUST KNOW THAT SLOW DANCING WILL BE PEAK 2000S ROMCOM AS WELL AND I SHALL EAT IT UP 😮‍💨🙏🙏 e2l, rekindling of love, A WEDDING, FAKE DATING??? RAH TOO GOOD

AND THEN JACOB ALTER EGO OK I SEE YOU I SEE YOU 🫣 AND PLEEK HAWKEYE IS ONE OF THE ONLY MARVEL MOVIES I HAVENT WATCHED HELPPPP BUT I’LL SEE IF IT’S ON DISNEY+ LMAO AND THEN AN ANGSTY KISS IN THE RAIN??? LEMME KISS YOU BEAUTIFUL BRAIN RN

And also…. Bloodied up Sunwoo…. Phew… I HOPE NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO THE BOYS AND THAT THEY NEVER DROP A SPECK OF BLOOD FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES BUT YOU’RE SO REAL FOR THAT LIKE THE MAVERICK ALBUM PICS HAD ME FEELING SOME TYPA WAYYYYYYYYYYY 🫣🫣🫣🫣 but eek the perfume counter scene sounds SOOO COOL can’t wait to see it!

And I’m not sure if I would be a casual marvel fan or an actual marvel fan like I’ve watched nearly all the movies and I know most of the lore but I din’t really catch up with the comics and I’m basically only gated to the movies and series spinoffs 😭 I’ve been a lil slacking since covid but I’m trying to catch up with the wasp and now quantumania! (Hopefully I spelt that right) but yeah! I’ve been watching marvel since I was a little kid lolol so I’m always down every year to see the new marvel movie!

But yeahhhhh I feel like I was somewhat prepared to see GOTG3 just cause I saw the Rocket floor clip on youtube but damn it still didn’t prepare me to see how horrific,y they were treated 😭 Floor’s design freaked me out the most but she was still so sweetie and it just ARGH ☹️☹️

But yeah! MANIFESTING THAT TBZ COMES TO BOTH OF OUR CITIES THIS TOUR I SWEARRR 😭🙏 and hold awn, how were you able to write the Changmin fic on a PLANEEEEEE pla I’m always so embarrassed when I whip out my ipad to even watch a movie 😭 like phew you are wayyyy stronger than me JSUNFJGNE

Also, just a fun lil question, if you were to turn ANYYYYYY of your fics into a live action movie, which one would it be 😳 (could be published or a WIP 🤭)

- Love you 3000, 🌷 anon

THIS REPLY GOT SUPER LONG LMFAO

SLFNKDNFKDJFJ HEY IF THEYRE STUCK IN MY HEAD, IMMA MAKE EM STUCK IN URS TOO 😁😁😁 PLS THE 2000S ROMCOM ALLEGATIONS ILY AHAHHA i just need to write more tension for that man like it's nearly impossible NOT to atp, and i found this thing on pinterest the other day

ITS SO HARD NOT TO THINK OF HIM FOR THESE AND AKDNKEKD (´Д⊂ヽ I THINK SLOW DANCING WOULD BE THE PERFECT EXCUSE

okok i found the one hawkeye ronin scene from end game for reference, and im sure u can find the one scene on yt somewhere cuz it was FIRE

LMAO I JUST REALIZED BUT NAT IN THE BACKGROUND LOOKS LIKE 🧍🏻‍♀️ AHHAHAHAHAH BUT essentially, i saw jacob in the roar mv and thought of this IMMEDIATELY !! omg no cuz i also wish them all the good health in the world, but i just have a morbid obsession w bloodied and bruised aus and whump tropes, like i wanted bruised knuckles and busted lips and split eyebrows y'know ??? and GODDDD THERES A REASON MAVERICK HAD ME BY THE NECK FOR SO LONG LIKE IT WAS THE FIRST TBZ TT THAT I WAS OBSESSED W it's like,,, my perfect concept like it was MADE TO APPEAL TO MY DERANGED AESTHETIC??? so yeah im ready to beat up sunwoo, chxngmxn, and jacob 🙏🏼

ahhh icic, i think i would have also been a casual watcher but my parents were so into it so my brother and i also, naturally, became hooked !! i also was not able to really read the comic books bc they cost money and there r just so many of them :')) but yeah, hope ur able to catch up !! it's taken me a bit to catch up too esp w college 😭🤧 but im getting there !! quantumania was prob my least favorite release so far of the recent mcu releases and that makes me SO SAD like JUSTICE FOR PAUL RUDD!!!!!

OMG FLOOR :(( TEEFS AND LYLLA ALL OF TJEM HAD ME SO SAD AND TERRIFIED AT RHE SAME TIME?? pls what animal was floor....... a goat?? a bunny?????? FLOOR'S MOUTH TOO LIKE WHAT'D THEY DO TO HER 😭😭😭😭😭 i didn't realize they completely gave lylla ROBOT ARMS EITHER LIKE I WAS PREPARED FOR A SEA OTTER NOT A CYBORG SEA OTTER skcneknfk okay but it's also like they're all kind of disabled but super cool and i loved teefs' little wheelchair?? even tho the high evolutionary def did some cruel fkn shit to them :')))))

AJAHHAHAHA im used to writing on my phone !! so writing on a plane's no problem for me as long as im not in writer's block yk 🤡🤡 im def worried abt my neighbors seeing the banners i make tho LMFAO

KSNFKSJDJDN TULIP I LOVE U MWAH 😚😚 I HAVE THOUGHT ABT THIS QUESTION SO MANY TIMES ??? and tbh i think if i had the time energy and resources, i would've gone into film for real bc i write so many of my fics in the view of like a movie rather than like a book, idk how to explain it skcnekkckf okok but hmmmm this one isn't tbz specifically, and idk if u stan txt or know them but

this one is another superhero au and i've honestly REALLY thought abt turning the idea into a proper novel idea, or maybe a screenplay !! I've thought abt the music and cinematic scenes for a couple plot points, but it might be a little too similar to spiderman in some instances 😅😅 but it's essentially a txt choi line au where reader is the superhero, and i don't really wanna give away too much bc im very gatekeepy w ideas that i like A LOT haha but yeah skfnskfmkf

SKFNKD I JUST REALIZED THIS IS ANOTHER SUPERHERO AU PLS 😭😭😭😭 BUT this is another one i think would be SICK as a tv show/movie, maybe it's cuz it's based off of like moon knight and ms marvel and shangchi and spiderman but i think that the quality and vibe of the storyline and characters would work so well as one?? and just the potential of lighting as symbolism in this is just TOO HIGH and osdjoenfk ugh i get so excited talking abt this

THIS ONE. THIS. ONE. would work so well as like a show or movie???? i just envision it with like taylor swift's miss americana and the heartbreak prince and im in tears at how cool it would be akcnkenfkf just the vibe of that song is what that entire thing would be like, like imagine how the sky looks JUST after the sun has set, but the glow of light is still in the sky and making it this reddish kind of color— it's called half-light and just imagine that with like stadium lights and darkened school hallways and kscnkenfk it's a time travel au, so i think those r always so much fun to depict in media and yeah :')))((

i could literally talk abt this all day every day but i almost forgot to go to class so i will sign off here LOL o7

I LOVE U 3000 TULIP 🌷🫂💖

[takaraphoenix]

H, J, K, N... I would ask more but I'll leave some to the others xD💕

Aaaaw, thank you for playing! *^* <3

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)

Usually, TV shows. I've never been a big movie fan and though my most-written for fandom is a book series it is more an exception than a rule, I just don't like reading books enough to be deep into book fandoms. xD

TV shows are ideal! I love watching them, there are enough episodes to keep my attention (movies are like fast food; I watch and move on, but TV shows keep me fed with multiple episodes and keep it alive with more seasons), plus GIFs! Getting to reblog GIFs also lets the shows stay more in my mind and cause me to get more attached to them, because I get to see them even during a hiatus.

I do love anime and it's the genre I come from, but I prefer live action that can run in the background. Also because anime nowadays has two sizes, either a tiny little 12 episode total run, or anime that still runs ever since like the 90s and is just too big a juggernaut to tackle and get into new.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

Well... The only one that really comes to mind is Boku no Hero Academia, but I have dropped that again at this point...

Maybe Ghosts, @blairwaldcrf put that on my dash and it looked funny enough that I ended up checking it out. Though I'm unsure how far it counts since I'm not really in the fandom, I just enjoy the show.

K -Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms

HAH I am throwing this one back at YOU!! For being very lovely and being basically the only PJO blog I follow and putting the ships I like on my dash and indulging in prompts from me ^-^

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

I would love to see more content in the Shadowhunters fandom (especially for my beloved OTP, Jagnus), I'm so sad that it's been gradually fading since the show ended. Still hoping for that BBC prequel show to revive it more again ;-;

In any fandom, or all fandoms, I would love to see more amicable shipping behavior. Instead of trying to play those ships they don't like dirty, or harass shippers. Just... living with the fact that other people like other things and I'd love we would have a more curious ship environment, where we could either go "okay so our tastes differ. that's fine" or maybe even... I don't know, explore other things? Like "hey never thought about that, what do you like about it?", without the question "why do you like x" to always be meant in a judgmental way. You know what I mean?

Aaand lastly, mh... More exploratory ships in DC? It always baffles me when I think of a ship and look it up and think that this half a century old fandom would have already created stuff for it, just to come up empty with ships that really aren't that out there. I get this fandom has a ton of characters, but you'd think that with its longevity it'd have produced so so so many sub-fandoms and rarepairs that are a nice size by now?

Fandom Ask Game

[beyourownanchor6]

Lol you are right, we keep coming back!

Oh it definitely got weird. And they tried to integrate it with the cwtv multiverse and it got even weirder because of spoilers but basically in integrating it they contradicted events of the original series

Lmao the ending of arrow was so bad. The ending of Supergirl made it impossible for Superman and Lois to take place in the same universe because she fucked up the bag. Legends got canceled without any ceremony and it ended on a cliffhanger. Black Lightning was great but it also ended too soon. The ending of The Flash was very disappointing. Basically nobody stuck the landing.

Oh god i wish i could forget the school shooting episode. It wasn't even traumatic (and i'm saying this as someone who survived two separate Activr Gunman Situations in junior high and high school), it was just bad. And i never saw that episode of one tree hill (i only watched a handful of episodes, i was firmly a The OC kid), what was that like? And you're right, they probably wanted to steer clear of the controversy.

OMG I FORGOT VENOM WAS MARVEL 😂😂 Yeah, Symbrock is also one of my ships. I don't care for deadpool but i do like spideypool. Also MattFoggy from Daredevil (my absolute favorite marvel hero).

Omg same. My goal is at least 12 books in the year and to cut down half of my Read Later from AO3. I wanna get through the buddie backlog so i can get into BuckTommy, and i do wanna get back into Sterek. Also you definitely got time to read 10 books! Good luck!

Okay, glad i'm not annoying you. I worry about that sometimes. Lol honestly the readmore is a good move, wish i could do it on asks too. I think i'm gonna stick to asks for a bit cause i love that i have a tag on your blog, but in the near future i'll switch to DMs.

it’s a hellsite, but it’s our hellsite? something like that 😅

the cw multiverse sure was…something wasn’t it? they were definitely reaching with a lot of those episodes and storylines.

i’ve erased it from my memory it was so awful 😂 i tried to watch supergirl twice and ending up quitting it both times; thankfully didn’t come back a third. omg legends! that show was sooo good the first couple of seasons, then they got rid of half the main cast and then it became the reject show. they truly had no idea what to do with it. i never watched black lighting; tried to stay clear of more of those shows after all the others lol. i also stopped the flash before the last couple of seasons bc it was becoming like arrow and i wasn’t going through that again lol. they were definitely all—something lol.

oh wow, that’s intense. sorry you had to go through that; that’s so awful. the oth one was definitely intense. i think a big part of it had to do with how it affected the storyline as a whole, but the way they put it together was definitely very haunting. it’s ironically one of the best episodes i do believe. i also love me some oc. i’ve been thinking of rewatching that one lately lol.

venom my most beloved! ngl a lot of that could have to do with tom hardy 🤣 but i do love the character as well! i can’t wait for the new one. i’ve seen a lot of people are into spideypool but it doesn’t speak to me i guess lol. loveeee daredevil. i miss when all the marvel netflix shows were a thing ngl lol

i got my marked for later down to 4 or 5 pages? so ig i have that going for me 😅 my problem right now is that i’m wanting to read for multiple fandoms and my buddie brainrot has kinda disappeared, so now my marked for later is stuck. i did buy 2 new books today, so there’s hope! good luck on both your goals! there’s still lots of time left this year!

no, not at all! if i don’t reply right away its bc i either don’t have beans atm or i just don’t have the attention span, so once the notification disappears (if it even comes) its out of sight out of mind lol. but definitely not annoying me ever! i love giving people their own little tags 😎

[deaddovestellnotales]

1, 8, 15, 16 and 27 (I hope it's ok)

It is more than okay! I'm always happy when I receive an ask, thank you so much!

1. One of the best things that has ever happened to you?

Hmm. That is actually,  really difficult? I think it’s that one time my former best friend’s boyfriend’s mom offered me help with writing applications and gave me a TED talk that I was actually not worthless and actually genuinely … uh. Just was nice and decent and wanted to help me?

And the second best would be my travel to Iceland and the USA. Especially Iceland was so beautiful and I wish I could go there again in the future…

8. Favourite movie you've watched this year?

I actually haven’t watched any movie this year… I often don’t have the energy to watch long things anymore, so I prefer reading nowadays. Especially audiobooks. I can space them out with whatever time and energy I have left. And also with the current movie and series landscape I actually prefer reading much more anyway…

15. Talk about a thing!

Ok, can I talk about our last DnD session? XD Because DnD is the one and only joy in my life right now and the session we had yesterday was so good! We almost got tpked, my character went down, cleric’s character went down, but in the end we could save ourselves and defeat our first BBEG. Then we travelled back in time (really long story) It was so intense and we had such good roleplay moments and the fight was so well described by our DM. I really just love my current group so much. Everyone is actually nice to each other and wants each other to shine and have their moments!

16. A food you want to try?

SO MANY FOODS. I CANT PUT THEM IN A LIST. I’m a huge foodie. xD I love trying new things! I LOVE streetfood. I currently really want real authentic thai street food because all of the youtube videos looking so good T – T Also I want to try eating insects. Like, grasshoppers.

27. Grab the nearest book, turn to a page, give us a quote?

… The nearest book I have is the “spellbook” I acquired for my cosplay and it is empty (cause I didn’t fill it up yet xD). So uh… make of it what you will!

[safereturndoubtful]

Day 86 - to Chalmazel-Jeansagnière

May 17, 86 days away and by some way, this is the coldest it’s been. For just over two weeks now, there’s been rain every day. I came north from the Pyrenees a couple of days earlier than I had planned to, hoping to catch some warmer and drier weather in Auvergne. In the last week the weather has come from the north, so the temperatures have dropped significantly.

This morning my plan to take in a couple of peaks at the Col de Beal, at 1390 metres, didn’t seem such a good one when we got there. It was 1C, but with a ferocious northerly wind that knocked those degrees down quite a few further. It must be my age, but I didn’t find ridges as appealing as I usually do, and descended to the village of Chalmazel-Jeansagnière. This side of the Col is the Rhone-Alpes, now the Loire watershed.

It was a good move. The village has a tremendous ‘aire’ by the rugby club which looks up to the Château, a medieval castle dating back to 1231. There was a period of a couple of hundred years until the sixteenth century when it wasn’t occupied. It had an even bleaker appearance in those days, and was apparently rough inside also, a neglected summer residence. Winters were harsh, and the wealthy occupants preferred more luxury. In the 1550s though it had a makeover, and was inhabited by the Marquis of Talaru until the mid-nineteenth century, when it went the way of many of these old Châteaus, and became a sanatorium for those recovering from illnesses and injuries from wars. In the 1900s it was a boarding school for a while.

The nuns left in 1972, and the new owners have since run it as a hotel, with other parts open to paying visitors.

More sheltered from the wind, I put a hiking circuit of the town together, a couple of hours out in the late morning.

Mainly though, it was a day of reading and reviewing. I got through the second of my series of French novels, Jean Giono’s A King Alone, written in 1947, set in the 1850s in the hills not far from here, in a remote village tormented by a serial killer, and a kidnapper, and the pacifist police captain just returned from the war who has to deal with it.

One of the book forums I contribute to (at the Guardian) asked for recommendations for ‘strange alien invasion novels’. I am a bit addicted to these sort of things, trudging through my records, and the author who presented the column, Nina Allan, had already come up with a very good ten. I suggested five, three of which I’ll mention..

John Wyndham’s last novel, Chocky, from 1968.

Little wonder it earned a reprint from NYRB in 2015, and given today’s news of 1.5 degrees of warming, more relevant now than ever…

“You have not done badly with electricity in a hundred years. And you did well with steam in quite a short time. But all that is so cumbersome, so inefficient. And your oil engines are just a deplorable perversion - dirty, noisy, poisonous, and the cars you drive with them are barbarous, dangerous…

You should be employing your resources, while you still have them, to tap and develop the use of power which is not finite.”

If you’ve seen the film C’mon C’mon you may remember Star Child, by Claire Nivola. It’s a very short read, but powerful one, a reading available on YouTube also, by Joaquin Phoenix, just two minutes, something a bit lighter… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsEvEFs2XZw

War With The Newts by Karel Čapek from 1936.

“Hello you people! Chief Salamander speaking. . . .We regret the loss of human life. We have no wish to cause you unnecessary harm....”

So can you imagine my delight when I came across this poster, advertising and ExtraTerrestrial conference here in Chalmazel.

This is Raëlism, and should you be keen to be amused, look at the Wikipedia entry, and their website quoted on the poster.

Despite this, the town has a lot that impresses. At the recreation area, by the campervan aire, there are three detailed route maps each for trail running, MTB, and orienteering.

There is also a small community run, and funded, library. It seems sad that volunteers should have to be organised to run libraries, but here it closed down, and has been reopened.

There’s what looks like a pleasant restaurant in town. I stopped by there this morning hoping for a coffee. The owner was about to close, so no coffee, but a good chat about red fox labs, Roja was doing his usual Spanish thing of waiting outside. In France of course, dogs are almost always welcome inside.

My French is terrible at the moment. I’ve just downloaded Drive Time French, which I’m hoping will help. I had worse problems than I expected on the telephone to the vet this morning, making an appointment for Roja’s worm treatment for next Monday.

Fortunately, the restaurant owner was the son of Spanish parents, who owned a restaurant in Madrid, and we were able to speak Spanish. I’ll report back later… I’ve actually only eaten out once so far this course, back in Trabáu in Somiedo on Day 49. No particular reason, just that nowhere has been particularly convenient.

All the beer from a local brewery, La Canaille, the usual breeds, a blonde, an amber and a brown, all about 6-7%. All the meat ‘from the local mountain’ - which takes me back to the French courses in the past when leading groups.

On the tougher bike courses after years of struggling to cook in the big tent and carrying everything necessary we priced in eating in restaurants, and booked them ahead where possible. It was a good decision. Sometimes trying to economise is not the best. In the rural restaurants they mostly claimed local produce, Translating the menu, I always offered something like ‘trout of the river’, ‘beef of the mountain’, ‘mushrooms of the forest’, ‘potatoes of the ground’, ‘salad of the garden’, ‘pizza of the oven’ - none of it accurate, but no one noticed, and all were happy. I’m not sure whether they actually wanted to know, or preferred to hear my ‘translation’. Quantity was the key. A meal like mine tonight would be a starter to those teenagers. In Corsica after a tough bike day it was incredible how much was eaten. Often it was pay for a campsite or tents put up wild and the money can be spent on food, so double budget - guess the answer.

On those sort of courses food, especially dinner, was the absolute key and the highlight of the day - very sociable and understandably lengthy.

It was a good atmosphere and good food. Menu of the day at 13 euros, I went for salad of the maison’s garden, pork (of the maison’s sty) with garlic mushroom sauce and three local cheeses (of the village cattle), all with a couple of beers at 2.50 a bottle.

[mexbanana]

Nicholas and donald amazing race

#NICHOLAS AND DONALD AMAZING RACE SERIES#

#NICHOLAS AND DONALD AMAZING RACE TV#

How could you not love them?! Nicolas was far from the most physically fit racer in the history of the show, but he carried his own weight and his grandfather’s weight with ease without ever complaining. Nicolas had no subtlety and no social game in the airports and it was hilarious to watchĪt the end of the day though, they’re just a grandfather and grandson traveling around the world together who somehow defied everyone’s expectations and made it to the final leg. Then when they were trying to book a flight to Lithuania and Nicolas told the airline workers not to help the other teams when everyone was literally standing right there and overheard them which caused Hendekea to call him out and pretty much push him out of the way to get a better flight before him. There was the flight to Lithuania where Nicolas pissed off the airline worker which caused Ron to completely blow up on him for his behavior and Christina subtly trying to tell Nicolas to stop being a dick. You all know I love a good flight scrambler and Nicolas brought the drama to the airports with his terrible social game. I also enjoyed him when there were less teams and they were forced to show them more and it turned out that Donald was actually really funny! He deserved a bigger edit throughout the show and more lines. Don’s highlight of the season was definitely his performance in the polevault roadblock in the Netherlands he did in his underwear. Don was exhausted by the end of the season and pretty much tried to sleep or relax whenever possible while Nicolas worked his hardest to try to keep them alive (both literally and metaphorically). And with like five near eliminations throughout the race, they also served bottomgoddess realness which I always adoreĭonald was the grandfather who was also a potty mouth. Though they had one of the smaller edits throughout the season, I enjoyed them whenever they were shown. Nicolas & Donald were the comic relief team of the season, but they also brought the drama and some heart along the way. You expect the final three to include Lorena & Jason or Azaria & Hendekea, but instead this random old grandfather Donald crawled his way to the final three. The TAR 12 final three is legit one of the most random final threes ever, but that’s why I enjoy the season so much. I’m incredibly proud of what my sisterĪnd I accomplished, but we didn’t do it on our own.Nicolas & Donald are third boots who somehow snuck by all the way to the final three. The entire race was a humbling experience, and winning it even more so. She’s just one of those gals who REALLY deserves more than I can give. Add the fact that I have a girlfriend who I wish to make MORE than my girlfriend, so I’m fully aware that I need to be Stretch a dollar to pay my absurd New York rent and eat absurdly priced New York food. The salary is not exactly illustrious, and I’ve truly had to learn how far I can I’ve been humbled by working Off Broadway for two years now. Give me Rodgers and Hammerstein over “American Idol” any day.Īs far as the money going to my head… Not a chance. The show is a brilliant piece of work and I love singing the music. “The Fantasticks” is very dear to my heart – I got my equity card with it, it was my first New York gig, and it introduced me (through the late Bobby Oliver) to theĪmazing kindness my fellow actors can have for someone they’ve only worked with for a short while.

#NICHOLAS AND DONALD AMAZING RACE TV#

I will absolutely return to “The Fantasticks”! In fact, I’ve been in the show since it returned Off Broadway and have had to watch “The Amazing Race” backstage on a mini TV while we Read Nick Spangler’s email message in its entirety below. He is scheduled to make his first post-victory performance in “The Fantasticks”Īt the Snapple Theater Center on Wednesday afternoon. How far I can stretch a dollar to pay my absurd New York rent and eat absurdly priced New York food,” Mr. Spangler said that the prize money would help him continue to pursue a career in which “the salary is not exactly illustrious. Replying to questions sent via e-mail, Mr. Spangler shared the prize with his sister, Starr, a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, after the siblings won a worldwide race that brought them to Cambodia, India, Kazakhstan and Russia.

#NICHOLAS AND DONALD AMAZING RACE SERIES#

Try to remember the kind of December when you were watching the finale of the CBS reality series “The Amazing Race,” and thought one of its champions looked familiar: sure enough, Nick Spangler, who wasĪ winner of the show’s $1 million prize on Sunday night, is a star of the current Off-Broadway production of “The Fantasticks,” in which he plays Matt. Nick Spangler and his sister Starr were the winners of CBS’s “The Amazing Race” on Sunday.

[littlerockerao3]

I’ve been posting s&b stuff but the truth is that I’m already done with it and can barely stand it anymore.