#but uh. they resonate Hard anyway

[brittlebutch]

interaction i’m Thinking a lot about

[onlyseokmins]

mischief maker • y.j.h.

Pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, priestess!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 jeonghan is an absolute FILTHY menace, light slapping, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? WC: 4.2k A/N: also another thing rotting in my drafts </3 anyways kinda proud of this one but it's also obscene and hard to follow so sorry </3 let me know if you have any theories hahah!!! this goes hand-in-hand with Ashes and Cinders, so definitely recommend to read that one if you haven't already

"Look at how heavenly you are. The lengths you'd go, so dedicated to prove your servitude."

Droplets of perspiration turn into diamonds, littering the bare skin of your back that's exposed more than usual due to the disheveled state of your robes. Neither the dewy sheen coating your skin nor the cold stone you're pressed against causes the chill that sets off tiny bumps decorating your sweat-soaked figure. It is from the sensation of a plethora of tiny gems crystalizing against your heated body before they slide to the floor. 

Each precious jewel that falls creates a tinkling melody. Echoing the sound of the ones wrapped around your neck and sewn into the fabrics that were once draped elegantly over your curves as you moved through the temple.

It's difficult to focus when your eyes are nearly crossed. Your elegant, upright visage is beyond recognition. Instead, a depraved image is reflected in the pristine water of the blessed fountain that flows out into a shimmering pool encased by polished marble. You were always quite meticulous about upholding the beauty of the temple you oversee.

Yet, who's the one sullying all the hard labor the maidens endure under your watchful guidance?

Drool dribbles past your lips, sore and swollen from how many times teeth have bitten into and at them. Now, they have no choice but to stay open and release a series of successive, sultry moans being drawn out of you and resonating throughout the chamber. Head lolling and vision starting to swim, losing count of how many times you've been brought to and over the overwhelming peak of pleasure.

"How does it feel?" Sweeping back long, flaxen bangs out of his glowing gaze with the finesse a mortal man could only dream to possess after hours upon hours of fucking, Jeonghan smirks. Miniscule encrusted diamonds grow, glisten, and gleam, bestowing a dazzling glitter on his forehead before they drop. "How does it feel for your god to bury his cock inside this tiny blessed cunt, my precious priestess?" 

If a verbal answer was needed, the both of you would be shit out of luck. Fortunately, as a sentient being, he can hear the innermost thoughts of many. Usually a low murmur in the back of his mind unless he focuses on them or they are an extremely devout believer in prayer. 

And you just happen to be the high priestess of Yoon. The model of devotion. Possibly the only mortal capable of handling the god of the temple in his true, divine form. 

By now, he has to chuckle at how your little head is only full of nonsensical thoughts. More, more, more, and Jeonghan, god, Jeonghan are the only comprehensive things that cry out to him. Even within the physical tremor of your body beneath him and the fluttering squeezes of your pussy. So much pleasure writhes throughout your very being that it races like electricity in a wire and surges inside his own, erupting into unadulterated waves of even more bliss for the both of you.

He leers in victory. Bringing you to your knees was a lot harder than expected, especially for someone who was supposed to serve the people in his name. To be completely honest, he was the one who ended up on his knees first — cleaning up the tantalizing slick gathered between your legs with his tongue. It was after you had spread them teasingly upon his arrival, accidentally summoned to your bedchambers at the seductive cry of his name. Cock-throbbing whimpers that had fallen from your lips while pleasurably climaxing from your fingers dipping in and out of the wet warmth between your legs. Eager to let go after playing for quite some time with such sweet, pooling arousal.

That was the day he found out just how much more delicious you were than the frothy nectar of the gods overflowing from their goblets during festivities. 

And he had become addicted. 

But now, look at you.

Your saintly garments are an unholy mess. Saturated by a mixture of both of your releases, the pure white colors practically become transparent. Especially following an… unfortunate tumble into the holy spring.

Normally, it would be a punishable offense to defile the holy waters. But when it's a priestess capable of the most powerful purification skills being encouraged to ride the cock of the temple's worshiped being who very much doesn't give a damn — well…

It's why you're splayed across the pool's ledge, lower body on full display for the god to use. Not entirely the most comfortable of positions. But it's somewhat of a respite for your tender breasts that are littered with sore bites and nips from Jeonghan while he muttered praises bards might be inspired to repeat as songs if they weren't so filthy.

You're unable to think a single thought in that pretty head of yours. His hips snap rapidly at such a pace to bully his dick deep within your cunt and with the force that would've broken a human of the same stature's bones otherwise. Lanky, sinewy muscles buzz with a faint glow to match the radiance of his irises.

"What would the maidens that look up to you in awe think if they saw you like this? Your loyal priestesses that respect you? The followers that worship the ground you tread on almost more than how strongly they pray to me?"

You were an influential figurehead of society. Ever since you walked in the steps fate laid out for you by a grand oracle's prophecy, you became the pinnacle of holiness in the surrounding lands. Virginity as a requirement was only practiced in the days of the old texts, and though your romps with the handsome and beautiful people of the citadel were not fully behind you, Jeonghan would make sure no one else could ever satisfy you like he can.

Besides, who could ever fuck a human as well as only a god can?

His stamina is on a whole other level. Unthinkable for a divine being well known for his laziness in the so-called dignified parables spun by the mortal tongue for generations. Maybe it's fueled by the intricate bond formed between the two of you, but it would be a lie to say it wasn't by far the best dicking down you have ever received. Jeonghan's not the thickest cock you've taken, but he sure is the longest and knows exactly how to use it.

"Dirty little priestess, the way this sopping pussy clings around me like a vice." He scoffs at the realization. "No wonder even the mightiest of gods bows down and lays with his mortal queen every chance he gets."

The distraught huff torn from your lungs paired with filthy wet noises when he pulls out of your sloppy hole is music to his ears. Akin to the harps and flutes the muses and their delicate fingers pluck and play to grace the court of deities present among the clouds.

His palm splays out, flying across your ass cheeks with a resounding crack visually reflected by the responsive jiggle and wiggle of your hips following the cruel motion. Scratch that. He bites his bottom lip with glee, the same hand fingering your cunt to scoop up the mixtures of his multiple releases and yours from earlier. The delightful squelching is much better than the heavenly harps of the gods.

Jeonghan figures that's where you'll end up one day, sitting all pretty. Whether or not you'll be a divine being — he refuses to use his wily brain to think harder about that. Though with the way the two of you continue to defile one another, a trip to the underworld may be in your future cards instead.

He reckons you'd love the delightful heat of the lava baths and the cute little boiling bubbles that pop at the surface. Especially if you decided to sink down on his cock… the god shivers delightfully at the thought.

"Vices. How fitting for you mortals."

Tugging the back of your ear with his unsoiled hand so you can turn your head, squishing a cheek against the marble and blearily struggle to look at him through unfocused pupils. Still, you're able to make out the v-shape of his pointer and middle finger — and even the clear strands of arousal stretched between them — before he sticks his tongue out to lick up. All while maintaining eye contact with a smirk, continuing his venomous words.

"Silly brother of mine, wasting time to concoct a drink for the gods who have no need for refreshments. Stupid humans who attempt to brew it with their measly tools as an homage." His thumb returns to circle your sore clit, drawing out more garbled moans. "All those efforts when this," another swipe and he's slurping it up again and tossing his head back with a throaty groan of pleasure, "this is the real ambrosia."

Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, cries your body, your mind, and your soul.

So much that your very being resonates and calls out his true name, causing the god's aura to glow brighter. Dozens of rubies, crystals, jades, and emeralds spill out from his pores at the effort and exertion of his dick slamming back inside of you. It's more thrilling and stimulating than participating in the senseless wars his brothers like to lure him into.

Strength fills him like never before. No one would think the god of mischief would have many believers but humans were petty. They may pretend to walk the righteous path yet they thrive on the downfall of even those close to them. You delivered messages from the god with little thought, for greater forces spiraled his playfulness into much more ominous threats if they chose to — swallowing up his domain for their own brutal goals.

"Why do you not wish for more power?" you'd dared to ask him on the rare days he appeared at the temple. Lounging about on the architecture's high peaks without a care in the world. "Surely you could have greater control."

"My dear high priestess," Jeonghan chides. He's not completely unaware of the effect his acknowledgment of your existence and title has. "The strenuous move of my pinky finger is enough effort asked of me for the next millennium. That alone could cause a child's village to go up in flames just because of a little prank gone wrong."

Your posture remains as refined and poised as always, yet your eyes wistfully trace his features — wishing it could be your hands instead. "I see."

"I imagine the creator molded me the way I am for the benefit of the world. Think of the havoc I could wreak if I was motivated to do so?"

Unbeknownst, the creator did take it into account. Though they made no concerted effort to intervene in the consensual exploitation the mischievous god took of the beautiful priestess. Or maybe it was the other way around? Fully aware of the unspoken thread weaving through the temple of Yoon, content to watch the god become more interested in life as he whispered in your ear. This time, bold words that were definitely not meant to be relayed to his followers. 

The creator let fate be, for the current gods can only fall for a new world to rise.

"Ambrosia that would bring a transgressor due enlightenment and a savior," Jeonghan continues with a dark chuckle, "or a god to their knees. All for this sinful, perfect little cunt."

Moan after moan leaves your mouth, shamefulness long gone the minute the god saw your spread legs, and his azure eyes were immediately drawn to what was in between them. His cock continued its brutal assault, pistoning in and out of what he deemed the world's finest treasure.

"But no one will ever get a taste of this one. It's mine. Mine!"

His slender fingers wrap around the back of your neck. Surprisingly, he lifts your head up gently — just enough for you to nod your head at his growl of "Isn't that right?", though when only more drool drips out of your mouth, Jeonghan shakes your head roughly in a "yes" motion.

"I could break you," he hisses as if he hasn't already nearly done so. "You are as fragile as a blade of grass in my hands." Another harsh slap lands on your backside. "Yet so resilient to my wrath, this hole of yours is always so welcoming. Why?"

Yours, yours, yours.

Jeonghan agrees with a feral growl, one not of this realm. Like a sounding bell and beckoning call from the vast unknown, it sends a vision flashing across your eyes. The sun freezes in the sky with its brilliant, harsh glow yet the world turns eerily cold and not into dust and ashes as expected. Then the sky turns black, a terrifying darkness, and a howling moan of despair. 

The moon joins its counterpart like two eyes glaring at the universe. They shudder in tandem, vibrating at a shaking frequency until you realize. They are staring right at you, unwavering. Like a face. Like a reflection.

A crash and a boom and a roar — then you're coming undone on Jeonghan's cock for an unbelievable amount and length of time. Shuddering as the world falls apart inside your brain, screaming and writhing though not quite in actual pain as the god kindly fucks you through your climax.

"Turn you into one of us, then you would no longer have such a weak mortal body. But even that's not possible… unless it's the creator. Perhaps even then…"

You don't register his words and maybe it's good you don't. He refuses to bare the heart he doesn't have. An ultimate weakness. Not like his foolish brothers. 

And yet…

While waiting for the shaking of your body to subside, his hands ghost over your form as if to ease the trembling. Listening to your heart rate until it no longer beats as crazily as you find rest in lean arms that cradle your body without sexual intention for the first time since the god's descent. After placing your weary body in the fountain, you're soon lulled into a dreamless doze by the soothing lap of the tiniest of waves against your skin and Jeonghan's gentle caresses.

You awaken much later. Feeling a lot more refreshed by some well-deserved rest and your innate healing powers aided by the holy spring's rejuvenation. Flowers in varying shades matching the luminescent color of Jeonghan's eyes litter the bed. Surrounding you with the same sweet scent when in his embrace. Picking one up, you thumb at glossy petals that remind you of the god's silken hair and smooth skin. 

Truly a symbol of his likeness.

"Priestess."

Your head jerks up when the subject of your thoughts silently materializes. A scratchy throat turns even drier and makes it hard to swallow upon spying a glint of silver pinning up Jeonghan's long locks. Another symbol — this one of the god's chilling wrath — is a spear disguised as a fragile hairpin. 

Carved from the bones of an ancient beast slayed by a hero of legends, the shining spear was crafted and embellished by the hands of a talented blacksmith gifted it in the name of his fellow brother and deity. The one that stands before you now, Jeonghan, the god of mischief. 

Tales of the legendary weapon thrown from his slender fingers and whistling through the battlefields to mercilessly strike down foes and enemies alike are documented on ancient scrolls in the oracle's grand library. As the only other one with access to such rare treasures, you'd poured over the delicate artifacts for days to learn more about the god you serve, eyeing the tiny circlet that hangs around his neck, certain it's the powerful aegis that supposedly wields the ability to turn those into stone.

"Drink." A chalice disrupts your view of the god and you take it, grateful at least for something to soothe how parched you feel. If he even notices your anxiety, he stays quiet and sits on the edge of the bed. Playing with a flower stem until you finish, the representative plant somehow looks both foreign yet perfect in his hands. "You saw something, didn't you?"

"Some sort of vision. One that was quite… frightening." 

"Describe it to me."

"Th-the gods. I think, my goodness, I am certain that they were at war."

As you explain in greater detail, weaving your tale of the bleak sun into it, Jeonghan's sapphire irises grow darker. Colder. By the time you've finished, the stem he'd been twirling in his hands has snapped in half and you no longer dare to look him in the eye even when he hums.

"The sun… hm? How interesting."

"Yes." 

You nod knowingly, and he lets out a dramatic sigh. There's a shing! noise and the god stands, a visible aura radiating around his form as the fearful spear elongates, revealing itself. It looks less deadly than described in stories, though you suppose no one who has been pierced by its shaft has lived to tell the story of its killing nature. Delicate and thin with a beautiful glow around it in this peaceful moment. But you know better than to trust what the eye — even one as perceptive as yours — can see and shudder.

"Is it the holy war you fear? Doubt that you'll receive a divine blessing of protection?"

A wry smile graces your lips. "I don't need to worry about being protected. It is my duty to defend the temple no matter what."

Jeonghan snickers, remembering the sharpened tip that almost grazed him. Caught off guard on his first visit when a priestess greeted him with a nocked arrow rather than a subservient bow of respect. And who knew he'd end up bedding that very same priestess, addicted to your body and all that it offered him. 

"Nothing will strip away the divine barrier encasing us so easily," you also point out and he nods, eyes lifting to the sky displayed through the high, open arches of your sleeping quarters. 

"I suppose you're correct. Though I do not know if you'd be able to fend off all my brothers…" The god lets out an undignified snort. "I do not believe they are planning an uprising so I must see what this vision of yours could be about." Jeonghan stretches, sending a lazy grin your way. "Do you trust me?"

You think back to gentle touches after a rough session. Whispers of sweet nothings and meaningless pledges when he thought you had drifted asleep. Waking up clothed in gossamer silk — a gift each time — and various reminders of his touch in the aches of your body that had yet to recover, visual ones scattered about the bed you rested upon each time. 

You recall what your purpose is. The oath you must uphold is proven by your namesake. Your destiny. And more. It is something you cannot forget. Ever.

"Of course," you assure him and Jeonghan laughs carefreely. Like he can't believe your faith in him himself. Neither can you.

He shakes his head, strands of hair shining like gold threads. Taking the chalice from you and lifting your freed hand to place a chaste yet flirty kiss to your knuckles. "Don't forget about me, my priestess. I'll return soon."

Another empty promise. Though you don't refute, playing along with his teasing remarks of you welcoming him back with open legs. Bidding the god a rather casual farewell before he disappears — but not with a wink followed by a bright flash and loud thunderclap.

Once you've sensed his presence is truly gone, you rise from the bed. A lyre sits in the corner and you run your fingers melodically across the taut strings while refining your appearance. You have a job to do after all.

The shrill cry of a raven draws your gaze to the open window where the black bird lands. It hops around, tilting its head curiously and rustling feathers expectantly. You smile, laying out a collection of gems on the ledge for it to inspect and play with. Summoning the maidens of Yoon, you speak to your confidante, stroking its midnight plumage while waiting for them to make the journey up to your chambers.

"Foolish gods, always underestimating. Jeonghan may have forgotten… everyone must have cast it from their minds." Your avian companion lets out a low croaking noise, nuzzling your palm with its beak as if to comfort. "But I… I will never forget." 

Do not. Forget.

Don't you. Dare. Forget

"I won't. I can't."

The voices in your head would never let you. And they will only get louder as time marches on, especially without Jeonghan by your side. But that is neither here nor there. You can't do anything about it except the one thing you — and only you — can do. 

By the time the eldest maiden has ascended the steps, you are alone again. Dressed in the purest of white robes and not a hair, jewel, or garment out of place. There are no black feathers, radiant jewels, or azure petals found in the humble and barren chambers of the high priestess. Just you, with your hands clasped together, and a fixed smile on your face.

"It is time." None of them notice the empty look in your eyes as they bow before you, heeding the declaration that comes from your lips. "It is time to spread the prophecy to the world. The real one."

"Yes, Mother," comes the obedient chorus.

The young women's eyes remain cast downward out of respect and the ambience of power emanating from you. For though they loyally represent the god of mischief, there could be no higher honor than serving a greater goddess such as yourself.

Jeonghan is clever. Wily. Smarter than he lets on which can be a true asset to those unsuspecting. But by no means is he ambitious. He is young too, and though the shell you reside in was destined to be his high priestess, the ancient bind to your soul has a stronger pull.

"He is coming," you murmur to yourself as the maidens set about the command you've ordered.

There's a warm glow bursting from the horizon, a fiery heat swathed in a tender caress making those erratic flames calmer. Softer. You're accustomed to what should be a sweltering wrath full of rage and the indicative hint to the tempered nature makes you smile. But the fuzzy feelings are tainted by a bitter tang of what is to come after the god of the sun's visit.

And so you prepare yourself for Seokmin to bring his eager request in your private chambers, stroking the head of your elusive feathered companion at your side while you wait. Watching as the sun rises higher and higher and an auburn-haired figure makes his way closer and closer.

Meanwhile, a flaxen-haired god's grip might nearly snap the spear he's holding in half. He stares at his eldest brother, aghast.

"You're lying."

"I am many things, Han, but I am not a liar."

"Brother —"

The king of the gods holds up a hand. "You don't have to believe me but it is the truth."

And though Jeonghan wants to fervently deny it, the dragged-down weight of his mortal shell's bones fight against what his godly head refuses to acknowledge.

He's brought back to what he was envisioning while bored out of his mind at his brother's lengthy counsel session. You — touching yourself, needy and forlorn without him there to fill you up — and him — returning to find such a scene and punishing you in the most salacious way possible.

But it's warped by his prophetic powers, proving his brother to be correct. Instead, you call him to bed and of course he follows, seduced by the way your body moves and everything else he wouldn't dare admit. And just as he finishes painting the inside of your cunt with all that he's worth and more, heavily spent from the throes of passion — you strike. Like a cobra lying in wait for its prey.

"Why?" is what he pathetically says as golden ichor drips from the corner of his mouth. The dagger you'd struck into his chest hurting a lot less than the actual damage truly dealt to what no human should ever be able to touch — his heart.

Blinking out of the painful vision, Jeonghan scowls at his brother. "You didn't know we've had an enraged primordial goddess on our hands?"

"Don't turn this on me when you've been fraternizing with said goddess."

Just as he's about to retort, the sudden darkness below the heaven's distracts both gods. The sun slips from the skies and a wail of grief so loud and chilling echoes, the harkening sign to the beginning of an apocalypse. The end. And for the first time ever, they feel a rush of emotion they've never felt in their whole immortal lifespan.

Fear.

As if that's not the worst of it all, he hears your voice. You're slyly drawing on that mental connection between the two of you, so that the phrase can be heard so crystal clear that his knees almost give out at the damnation you've orchestrated.

"And so… let the gods pay as they fall."

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

[weebsinstash]

hey, can I have more husband and wife family dynamics with thragg? maybe more about her pregnancy or the kids' childhood/baby time?

Sure can! It's been pretty fun writing about potential scenarios where this monstrous piece of shit can actually feel love. First and foremost I was watching a video on YouTube going over this scene again and uh Comic Readers KNOW How Fucked This Man Is. um, out of context vague spoilers but, I'm assuming people asking about Thragg have read the comics or are curious about the comics but like yall Need To Know how he treats the kids of his enemies

I feel like I need to share/remind people of this scene because like, this man can be kind of hard to pin down. He's from this loveless society that sees kindness as weakness and he's like King Dickhead but there are still times when he can be quite courteous, even apologetic, sarcastic, whatever. I think at the end of the day he's just a very selfish, explosive, emotionally impulsive man but revisiting this scene was a little surprising for me since I forgot he was even like, capable of "small kindnesses" like saying sorry or whatever. Like. Is him wiping her tears while smearing blood all over her face a well intentioned accident or is he like waging psychological warfare on this like, i think she's literally 5 years old. What is the purpose of him apologizing to a child for splashing blood of her family member on her when he intends to kill her or leave her for dead in front of her dying parents anyways. I'm still trying to get a feel on this man

THAT BEING SAID, moving on, we're talking about a yandere Thragg today and thankfully that comes with perks

- it's pretty obvious but like, you are his favorite mate and your children are his favorite children. I like to think of concepts with Reader being Ursaal and Onaan's mother or even the previously mentioned triplet idea with Mark being their sibling (otherwise I'd have to invent new characters and that doesn't, resonate the same, and I also really like Ursaal actually and I feel like there's some real story potential in Ursaal discovering more of her humanity through her mother's kindness and wanting to protect her mother from her father)

-can you imagine like. I still think about the idea where you're actually Nolan's mate but one day you mouth off to Thragg and he "puts you in your place" in front of Nolan as a punishment to you both and like a month later you find out you're pregnant and, I imagine abortions are only done on Viltrum if the fetus is too weak or defective, so you're forced to carry it and you and Nolan are lying that it's his and then one day Thragg just, passes by, sees your swelling tummy, takes one sniff of you, "it's mine" and demands a paternity test. And you'd think, "oh surely he'd just take the baby" which is what you'd prefer but, no it becomes a pretext for him to steal you from Nolan altogether

-you're fed incredibly nutrient dense, protein packed, ultimate pregnancy food because Thragg wants those babies as healthy as possible. Thragg has probably had other alien kids before but these are his first hybrid or nearly fully Viltrumite children and that makes them special. New dad Thragg holding up these little absolute mammoths of newborns with all their chunk and pudge and rolls and he's just so proud, "look at how robust these children are! Surely they have inherited my strength! Fine additions to the Viltrum Empire were born on this day" and you're like half awake in bed and he just, pets your hair

-ok just. Ok just picture it like. You're pregnant and upset and so stressed out because you didn't want to be Nolan's mate after he helped conquer Earth but at least you had known him and liked him initially. You're just constantly stressed out and angry and watching every single word you say around Thragg because you don't know him or what he's capable of, but I imagine a sort of scenario where he's taking you to the doctor and running tests and procedures and just, you know prenatal checkup stuff, but the doctors are all speaking to Thragg instead of you, you aren't even being told your own test results, and the two of you finally arrive back home and you just break down crying and kind of tear into him, "I'm sure YOU have had lots of kids before but I'VE never had a baby before and I don't know what to expect or what's going to happen or- or -" and you're just bawling because, it's not a lie you're scared. You're having a baby and you're gonna be a new mom and it's entirely against your will, out of your control, and that's incredibly stressful. And this becomes a moment where Thragg actually shows some humanity by sitting you down and discussing the doctors visit with you, and that's one of the first times the two of you actually have a civil, extended conversation

Thragg thinking he's so fucking big and tough and then he sees you this little fragile fleshy untrained civillian with the big teary boo hoo eyes with your shaking hands on your little belly as you cry about being scared about giving birth to his baby and he's just, "shit I DO have feelings" and immediately feels the overwhelming need to comfort you. He'll comfort you under the guise of "stress isn't good for the children" which is true but, it's him blanketing his own concern and masking it under an excuse

-I kind of feel like that hypothetical event would be like, a footnote in your relationship. He starts treating you differently, attentive in new ways, more... emotional ways. He'll stop by while he's working on a break or something to check on with you and the assigned caretakers he has guarding you (because the very second you're confirmed pregnant you have 24/7 security) and he'll awkwardly grunt out questions about, have you eaten yet, are you experiencing any pain today, any discomfort, any new symptoms. He'll check in with your guards/nannies privately about if there's anything you're doing that he needs to know about, give tou a nice husbandly shoulder touch and then (reluctantly) getting back to work

-to be blunt part of me questions if he even has sex to create children or if he uses something akin to IVF and I only say this because of the absolute ASSEMBLY LINE he sets up on Thraxia. Trust me though he beats the kitty up with you CONSTANTLY

-I actually think after giving birth is like the ONE time you're allowed any birth control because apparently if you have too many pregnancies in too close time frames it actually sucks the calcium out of your bones and can give you osteoarthritis and Thragg wants you healthy, "for more future children obviously" which is such a lie because let's say you have your miracle birth of giving him twins or triplets or whatever but you hemmorage and become infertile or whatever. Mf is STILL keeping you around. When you think about it he technically doesn't even need you to help raise his children, he has people for that, but he forces you to be part of the process anyways

- tbh I kind of like the idea of Thragg developing some weird fucking like complex where he discovers he feels comforted cuddling you, like man gets hit by oxytocin like a fucking freight train, and it becomes him literally being unable to sleep without you in his arms. You could be in a yelling screaming argument with this man and he suddenly like, just completely shuts you down, "ENOUGH!! I require rest and I won't tolerate anymore of your childish whining!" And you could be spitting mad at him and he's just, picking you up just physically picks you up and drags you to bed anyways. Hooks his arms around your waist as the big spoon and buries his face in your hair even as you spit insults about how you hope he kills himself

Like I think I've mentioned this idea with other characters before but imagine Thragg waking up on the middle of the night IMMEDIATELY PISSED because the bed beside him is cold and he finds you on the couch, on the couch, maybe even without blankets and visibly uncomfortable, because yeah he WILL wake you up to drag you back to bed with him.

- Thragg being this warrior who literally watched people be disembowled and tortured and conquered races but suddenly you're in labor and he's in the delivery room (he refuses to wait outside) watching you literally scream in pain and he just, takes your hand and tells you to squeeze, and that it'll be alright, and he sees you so vulnerable and scared and emotional and you're looking to him for some kind of help but he can't, even with all his strengths and feats he can't help you right now, however this pregnancy goes is up to fate and the doctors and he feels like an actual visceral HUMBLING sense of helplessness that just makes him, even more obsessively protective over you

- deadass if it becomes a "he can only save one: you or the children" life-threatening pregnancy scenario, he chooses you. Says you can always try again but even if you wind up infertile and "useless" to him, he's too attached to you at this point, it doesn't matter if you "don't serve a function" or whatever bullshit Viltrumite mindset he may have had with previous mates before. You're different to him, and you're making HIM different as a person

- You're just half alive on the couch because Giving Birth is Hard and here's Thragg doing shit like personally bringing you water, feeling your forehead for any fever, monitoring your condition, aggressively interrogating your guards for extra info, sitting beside you with your babies in his arms. He lets you rest after giving birth and nearly bends over backwards

- I feel like at some point you're forced to accept a lot of real fucked up stuff and especially if you are a hybrid Vultrimite yourself and thus will be with Thragg for, basically forever, like some real "mate, do you have any cravings today. What do the children require" "ummm... at the ceremony last month, there was that... blue, little.... crab thing?" "A Florkian. They are incredibly rare" "oh... I'm sorry, I didn't know-" " -and since I observed that you were fond of the taste when you were consuming them, I went ahead and conquered their homeworld and farms have been established. I can have the slaves prepare a dish for you right away" "oh, thank you, ive been craving it ever since i ate it but i didnt want to bother by asking 🥰" "as your mate it is my duty to provide for you. Do not keep any of your desires from me"

- your children are getting trained as soldiers the second they develop powers and that's something you'll have to get used to. If your little babies get their powers at 5, they're still learning combat, getting knocked around, near beaten, "toughened up". Thragg will conceal the full extent of how they're treated from you because the way he sees it, you weren't raised on Viltrum and you're simply ignorant of their culture. He doesn't need you to accept how things are. Your kids will come home with black eyes and bruises and bloodied noses and he'll growl at you not to make them too soft as you weep over Ursaal missing a chunk of her hair because an opponent grabbed her by it and she had to break away and some was ripped out at her scalp, like. The psychological damage of asking your small child how their day with their father went, "it was excellent mother, I made my first kill!!" And then gleefully describing to you in detail how while their father was fighting an enemy soldier, the soldiers child attacked yours, and, your baby killed another kid. Like. That's the sort of thing you have to be raised with to block out of your heart. Going to hug your child who may not even be 10 years old and they have literal blood on their hands

-personal headcanon but also semi canon but I imagine Ursaal is the most competent of your twins and is Thragg's favorite. She just has a better tactical mind on her shoulders and isn't, uh. As horribly sadistically violent as Onaan. Like say your kids become platonic yandere or whatever, or, you have your own kids with thragg and the twins are separate but still attached to you. Onaan is the kid you find killing cats because he's jealous they get more attention than him while Ursaal is like, giving her father incredibly detailed reports and her own insight into what you've been up to, how you're feelings, things you say and do when Thragg isn't around

-so I know y'all see that image I posted with Thragg and his twins. I tried to censor, The Cape last time but I realized like, even with censoring the head it's still super obvious who that is, there's only one white furred creature in this entire show. I imagine after Thragg gets his Beast Drip that, once Throkk's daughter comes for revenge, she is also slaughtered, and her pelt becomes YOUR cape. Or maybe Thragg offhandedly mentions to you that BB Jr has vowed vengeance and you're casually flipping through a book, "is she as strong as her father, like if you had to rate it 1 to 10 with her father being 10 and 1 being a human. If the daughter is at about a 7 or below, Ursaal should be able to handle her, get herself a nice coat to match her father" and Thragg feels this warmth in his chest to hear you're actually observant of his/your children and their prowess, especially to hear you praise Ursaal in such a uh violent context, just casually suggesting his daughter could turn another sentient humanoid creature into a pelt to wear. This is another example of "living the viltrum life will eventually dehumanize you and rob you of certain empathies"

- I don't think you would actually have a title but could you imagine if Thragg decides you're like, officially his true mate, like the mate above all others, like you're the Empress in his little harem of concubines and ladies in waiting. I hc that your official title is something like Grand Duchess or perhaps if this is the twin/triplet scenario something more vaguely historical sounding like The High Mother or Regent Mother or, you get the point

-I still think "Reader turns out to be an incredibly late blooming hybrid" is a neat concept but I also don't know how they would miss that since during your pregnancy and all you're receiving medical care out the ass but like. Thragg personally training both you and the children as a family. Would be kind of humiliating honestly because it's kind of vaguely implied you should learn things before the kids do and if you struggle, here's Thragg, telling his kids in private they have to protect you and keep an eye on you and report any problems back to him

- thragg would definitely be training you in hand to hand but suddenly finds he can't bear hitting you in the face or hitting you at a certain strength. Like. Absolutely 100% you're gonna have a lot of scenarios where you're brawling or wrestling and he pins you and it swiftly transitions to you getting rawdogged from your high on adrenaline husband. Tbh that sex would probably be his favorite, where he has to defeat you in combat and then rewards himself. Can probably border from hatesex to consensual to noncon, not that he has a problem doing THAT to you either

- probably has portraits done of you and him. Idk do you think Viltrum has like enough art culture for portraits to be a thing? Most fascist tyrants have portraits. He would have several done: you and him, just you, you while pregnant, him and you while pregnant, you holding your babies, you and him holding your babies, and family shots as they grow up. Say you conquer a planet together as a family and one day you're revisiting and there's some sort of museum set up amd you find like a wall length portrait of, you and your children soaked in blood tearing carnage through the fire and flames and Thragg is beside you just nodding in approval, "they captured your image rather well"

- goooooddddd imagine you're just a normal human and you progressively start showing signs of aging. You start getting more wrinkles. Your body starts working in different ways, popping, cracking, aching. Onaan, Ursaal, and Thragg all notice and they're like FREAKING OUT HONESTLY. The children don't want to accept that their mother is actually going to be a speck on the timeline of their entire lifespans. Thragg doesn't want to accept that he has to let you go and you're never coming back. They all become obsessed with finding ways to keep you young, keep you alive, fuck it they'll clone you and transfer your consciousness into a new body if they have to! This is comic book world and these are obsessed aliens and they have OPTIONS

- something something "what if Reader isn't a viltrumite hybrid but is still like super-powered or a mutant or whatever and this isn't revealed until you like are fatally injured or even DIE die and suddenly you, pop back up". Cause I feel like this "close call" would drive any yandere literally insane because, what if there's no second chance, what just happened, can you still die, they can never never never never never allow you to get hurt ever ever ever again

Thragg just walks into the kitchen and you have the stove top red hot and you've just got your palm resting on it and you look to him kind of just shocked, all, "look... nothing happens... I just feel some of the warmth" and Thragg just puts his fist through your oven anyways, "you could've gotten hurt" and immediately picking you up and carrying you to some sort of perceived "safer place"

- this is like a specific scenario but like, can you imagine as a mom you like to brush and comb Ursaal's hair and you idly suggest she could always grow it out more and you could help braid it and things, but once it starts getting longer Thragg objects and says it could get grabbed during a fight and orders her to cut it but you step in and say she shouldnt have to, it's HER hair, and you two get into it, and one day Ursaal is brought home by her father and he's all but shaved her head after she had actually grown it out to a decent length. You and Thragg are at odds over how to treat rhe children and Ursaal begins to realize that many of the restrictions her father instills on her are because of a way of life she may not fully agree with, a life filled with violence and bloodshed with no room for love or kindness or creativity. She probably helps you from going over the edge too, honestly. If anything else through this life with Thragg, in your darkest places you may still find yourself thinking you have to keep going to try and help your children

- with others, Thragg is the kind of yandere where he's standing in the same room as you and you're both doing completely different things and he suddenly says, "so I noticed during the meeting that your eyes kept lingering on my mate" and without further warning he's beating up someone on the accusation they were lusting for his wife, no discussion, just fists , and he'll do shit like this a lot to the point people don't feel comfortable being around you and you're just further socially isolated

- I feel like Thragg would have some weird like fondness slash fetish for watching you breastfeed. Like, awww here's his cute little wife with his chubby little babies and you're giving them their nice milk, what a good mom, providing for the babies he put in your belly ❤️ part of me is convinced if you're a viltrumite or hybrid or whatever that you uh. Eventually wind up with a lot of babies. A LOT of babies. Do you think he would want a specific amount or its just vibes. Like you're over 300 years old and you've already got 50 kids with him but he sees you teaching one of your youngest sons how to throw a punch and suddenly he wants another

- all I'm saying is if he ever catches you self harming or attempting to hurt yourself he's gonna have a real extreme reaction. Like he finds you cutting yourself with a broken glass and you're immediately restrained and taken to a hospital, completely stripped, inspected for other wounds, and if there are any and especially a lengthy history of them, you're in such trouble. But I also think it would be extremely difficult to hide this from him since as time goes on you two are constantly having sex or he's inviting himself into your shower to bathe with you. You accidentally bang your arm on a counter or something and get a tiny bruise, this man will know about it and wants a detailed report on where it came from

- even when you guys aren't super familiar with each other and you've "just met" he's already protective and all that. Like you've just been brought into his home and you barely even know him still and he may even act mean and angry to you and then one day he sees you have a large bruise on your arm, "what is this?" ".... it's nothing, Grand Regent" "I asked you a question and you'll answer me: where did this come from" "... I spoke out of turn with one of your advisors and turned to leave without permission, Grand Regent" "And so they grabbed you?" "Yes Grand Regent" "who" "it was my fault, I-" "WHO" and the second you give a name or description he's wordlessly leaving the room and shows up again HOURS later with visible blood on him, "it has been handled. You are not to be harmed or punished without my permission or instruction"

- in some scenario where you leave the kids behind and try to run away, like... he isn't just gonna throw up his hands, "well I already got children out of her, she has served her purpose" and leave you the fuck alone. If anything this man would track you down just to tell you off for having the fucking nerve to disobey and defy him! I can picture an actively captured wife where you are constantly kept on some kind of restraint or have a bracelet or collar or even a LEAD THAT HE HOLDS and you're IMPRISONED rather than "I'm being monitored but otherwise I have my own agency". Thragg will make himself a throne that you can be chained to if he has to. He'll have restraints made that are decorative and complimentary of your features. Imagine he's making some sort of public appearance and while he's speaking he's got an arm around your waist and you're pulled up against him and meanwhile you've got. A bar gag and cannot speak

- really, truly, in a way, you become a symbol, but one of all different kinds. There are Viltrumites who see how their mighty Grand Regent treats his mate and they are viscerally disgusted (Kregg and Lucan comes to mind), like people who really start to question the society they are living in, questioning if it really must be so selfish and devoid of empathy, questioning if they really want to keep living this way and for their children and their children's children to live like this. Then there are others who see the way the Grand Regent controls his mate and see its as a sign of strength and permission to treat their own mates the same.

Mostly, though... the only thing that will take you away from Thragg is death. Until the day one of you dies, you're stuck with him, and there's basically no one around who's stronger than he is, period. You might as well cozy up and get friendly with your new husband, since you're going to be together for a long time and spend lots, and lots, and LOTS of time together ❤️

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Strawberry Moon in Capricorn ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Heey, has the Full Strawberry Moon caused you some level of fatigue? At least physically rather than mentally? It was in the sign of Capricorn last June 23. This FM brought a shake-up to the foundation of our routines and a sense of belonging. I hope you’ve been feeling more secure in terms of your job and finances, or at least in the way you get to schedule your work.

There’s this little thing that I’ve been saying to myself ever since the arrival of this FM: ‘I’ve decided now that I am stable and secure. I’m not anxious anymore. There’s nothing to worry about.’ I’ve been saying that for my finances, yes, but especially, about my place in the world. I’ve become even more certain that what I’m doing is contributing positively to the world around me, and I’m very happy about that :D

This Full Moon, the aenergy is all about dreams and manifestations of a stable, secure Life going forward as Workers of Light. Personally, I don’t know what’s going on with people who are not of the Light LOL I guess all the foundation of their Reality is simply crumbling because they haven’t worked on their traumas? *cough, Hollyweird, cough cough*

Anyway, this FM also brought in a huge-ass cosmic broom to sweep up even more karmic debris from your energetic field (even bloodline). Releasing yourself from the shackles of guilt and unworthiness so you can grow tall and reach the heights of the heavens. All that, so you can now focus on your legacy project—something important, and unique, which you’ve known for quite a while only you can do.

This Full Strawberry Moon in Capricorn is the time all these wishes and endeavours are blessed by the Light forces of the Universe. Workers of Light, this year is YOUR year! Stomp forward bravely!

IDEA: High Paying, Low Stress Feminine Careers by Beauty & Beyond

deck-bottom: XVII The Star Rx, Gold Astronomer (John Dee), Priestess of Strength

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Pile 1 – It’s Time to Nourish Your Body

security – 2 of Cups Rx

Oh, this is interesting. You know that 2 of Cups is a soulmate card, right? But here in reverse I’m getting that up until fairly recently you’ve given so much of yourself to the wrong soulmates. It could be that there was something in the air that convinced you that you’d met your tribe, friend group, or even the one and true significant other, but then the Universe did something and the truth was unveiled, and it was painful.

The, uh, disclosure, took quite a toll on your physical body, probably due to the shock or trauma. This could’ve eaten away at your self-worth, too, to some degree. You might’ve dealt with an affliction of an impostor syndrome after the incident. Emotionally, it was really hard. But now, the Full Strawberry Moon has swept away a huge chunk of that trauma and now you’re good LOL

Basically, you’re being assured by your Spirit Guides that everything is only getting better from here <3

stability – 10 of Wands

If you resonate with having been in isolation for quite a while, this is your confirmation that you’ve chosen well. I mean, I guess your Spirit Guides ushered you into isolation LOL But this isolation period is your recovery phase from all the lessons you’ve taken from the previous chapter of your Life. Your Spirit Guides are saying the past was not a mistake. You needed to experience those things to help you develop a stronger intuition.

It's part of your Life Scenario to meet many, indeed, Souls that you’d known in different incarnations, but they’re not necessarily your long-term Soul Tribe. It was more like meeting old friends, neighbours or students you’d interacted with in the past and now they’re just passing by to say hi or help you with a light task. They were never meant to stay for long. Because, your True Soul Family is elsewhere.

Know that. Feel that with your intuition. Accept their call. And have fun making your way to them, or inviting them to your space :D

worry-free – 6 of Wands

For some of you tuning into this Pile, you may have been in this isolation mode for a very long time. Your Spirit Guides are saying your time in hiding is almost over. Soon, you’re gonna be connecting with people again and be seen for all the wonderful work you’re able to produce now, and everybody around you is so gonna appreciate and admire you for all that you are. They’ll think you’re super wonderful and they’re gonna wanna hang out with you and all that stuff :D

Are you still afraid of some kind of a betrayal or abandonment from these connections? No, it doesn’t seem like that at all. Why? Because you’ve transcended above your self-worth issues; because now there’s something that you’re doing that you feel very proud of, at least confident about. You know your worth now, so you’re just naturally magnetising people who will also view you the same.

Take care of your body though. Don’t work too hard. Your body still needs to get used to a healthy routine so it gets stronger. A strong body supports a more stable emotional plane <3

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 2 – Enjoying Unwinding for a Moment

security – 7 of Wands Rx

Seems like you’ve been huuuuuustling for the longest time. This FM in Capricorn is saying you’ve done marvellously well, so please take a break now! XD It’s more like, gosh, you haven’t taken the time to smell the panna cotta at all. Chill out, bro. You’re gonna work yourself to death before you even get to enjoy any bit of your labour of love. If it’s not possible to take a break, at least delegate. You really don’t have to do it all alone~

There’s a bit of a message about learning to trust other people. In essence, also learning to trust the Universe. Trust that things won’t suddenly spin out of control just because you’re snoring one minute. You’re working on something important that can benefit other people as well, right? Even if ‘other people’ literally means only yourself at this moment, and your family in the future.

Trust that the work—or the intent to change jobs—you’re doing now is in alignment with your Highest Intended Good. And in that sense, everything is perfect. You can relax~

stability – 10 of Cups Rx

Other than the scenario involving work, it seems a bunch of you have simply been dealing with a sense of ‘burden’ that goes beyond just day-to-day work. I feel like there’s been so much dark clouds in your mind, covering all your senses and your perception of Reality. These dark clouds are just worries, anxieties, and a fear of rejection or shame from the people closest to you.

It feels like there’s an endeavour you know you must take, a decision you know you must make, but you’ve been so stressed out about how to balance what you want with what’s expected of you. This FM in Capricorn seems to have lifted a huge chunk of those gloomy clouds tho, and I’m seeing you’re more able to distance yourself from the opinions and influences of those who might disagree with you.

This time around, this year in fact, you’re prioritising yourself. There’s something very important that you must undertake, but first, peace of mind first.

worry-free – 6 of Cups Rx

It does seem that the majority of your concerns come from ‘people’ rather ‘situations’. Your interpersonal relationships were simply weighing you down because you feel so much empathy and gratitude towards the people whom, I get are meant to be left in the past. These are people in your early chapters of Life; they’re likely not gonna make an appearance in the next arc, babe.

So you’re being advised to let go with grace and gratitude. I feel like you’re this dragon who’s meant for something mega-important and mega-luxury but the people around you couldn’t understand that. Well, that’s OK. That doesn’t make them ‘bad’, right? You just aren’t each other’s people, apparently. Your people, in fact, are those who are just as weird as you.

As you move forward, you’re going to meet more of these people who will even help you in building your empire. For now though, just enjoy unwinding those stressful threads of expectations in your mind~

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 3 – This is Literally Where It All Starts

security – Page of Pentacles Rx

You’ve dedicated a huge chunk of your Life to studying. Most people won’t even be able to grasp just how much ‘a huge chunk of your Life’ is in this scenario. It almost feels like practically your entire Life, you’ve just been studying. A whooole Life of nothing but hard lessons from the Universe. Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You may have felt like giving up numerous times, too.

But it all ends by this FM in Capricorn. You’ve finished studying. You’ve graduated, or soon graduating. For the most part, the majority of you have closed that chapter of studying, learning and experimenting (with prototypes). From here onwards, it’s full-on Creation with active R&D on the side. You’re being propelled into your Highest Intended Mission.

Of course, vacation, first, baby~ Relax and celebrate your graduation. You deserve to take it easy now that you’re in preparatory mode.

stability – 2 of Airships Rx

I see that whatever you’ve felt was restricted before, whether money or time or a general sense of ‘freedom’ to do what you want when you want, is being lifted and suddenly there’s just this almost magical burst of material blessings that enable you to just…have a good time! Like, before, it was as if either you turn on the electricity or go without food for a day (hi, Australia). There was just SO much compromise to make. Not anymore! This FM in Capricorn is bringing in a lot of ease and material abundance!

Well, this Strawberry Moon is all about manifestation and fruitfulness, yes, but it’s also the way Saturn (ruler of Cap) seems to be easing in on the restrictions put around your physical manifestations. And it’s mainly thanks to your finally returning to the core of who you are. If this is your main pile, chances are, you’ve figured out your spiritual work in this world.

Basically, the lessons of Saturn revolve around that theme. Finding your footing in this world so your physical manifestations are always going to be in the service of your Highest Intended Good :D

worry-free – Knight of Wands Rx

I get this feeling that up until recently, you’ve been sort of torn between doing what’s responsible/practical and following this calling in your heart. Being pulled in more than one direction has caused you a great deal of mental turbulence. It wasn’t because you were choosing or managing poorly, no, not at all; it was because you were meant to follow both LOL

But yeah, I get that the whole learning phase was more like a tempering of your passions. Basically, the Universe was teaching you trust and faith in its grand orchestration. There this quote that fits perfectly for you right now:

‘You ever just like… Trust the Universe so much that you don’t give a fuck?’

For most of you tuning in here, I feel like you’ve kinda just stopped giving a fuck about whether or not you’re gonna make it or fail hahahah

And that’s the whole point, right? Doesn’t matter what happens, the Universe has big plans for you, so you’re surely gonna end up alright, and even thriving! Since you already know the outcome anyway, might as well relax and take it easy from like right now~

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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[atlantis-just-drowned]

Can you do a barley x reader fic where the reader calls him “Barrel” as a nickname? Not even to tease or be mean, that’s just what they call him? And trader just fuckin LOVES him and loves cuddling him because mans is perfect for cuddling.

A/N: Thank you for this request!! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I'm a bit of a slow writer and had some things going on, but here it finally is! I made it a gn!reader haha I hope you'll like it ahberhfber-

Snowy day

Please reblog this post to show support! Reblogs are what keep me going!

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It was too early in the morning to be your alarm and classes had been dismissed, but just from the ringtone, you could already tell who was calling.

Opening your eyes with a groan, you reached a hand out of your blankets and grabbed the flat screen on your nightstand, before looking at it with your eyes still half-closed. You blinked as your finger slid on the answering button under the name of Barrel Adventurer of Tomfooleries.

You brought your phone close to your ear as you groaned an interrogative "Yes?" with a morning voice.

This whole nickname thing has started dumbly, really. It went back to when Barley and you were only friends: one time, your tongue went astray, and the two of you had laughed so hard about it that it stuck around.

It was still fun - even though you didn't even need to see the contact name on your screen anymore since he has his own special ringtone, it didn't stop you from calling him that, on a daily basis. Maybe just a bit embarrassing to explain to strangers and friends. But who didn't enjoy some little banters here and there?

"Hello, beautiful thief." You heard from the other side of the line. For a second, your eyebrows furrowed in half-asleep confusion at the strange nickname, before you remembered.

Oh, yeah. This.

You forgot this cute idiot liked to call you by the class of your Quest of Yore's character.

"Do you have anything planned for today?" Barley spoke again.

You looked by the window of your bedroom. Snow was falling abundantly - the reason why classes had been dismissed for the entire day - and the whole neighborhood was already covered white.

"Uh... Not really?" You answered as you finally sat up in your bed correctly. "It's snowing too much to do anything anyway."

As you finished this last sentence, you felt a small chill on your arms because of the coldness outside of your blankets. If your bedroom felt that cold, you couldn't imagine how much colder it must have been outside. Yeah, today was definitely going to be an in-house day.

"Anything? Really? You're underestimating me I think." he spoke playfully, making you giggle a bit at his jest.

"I'm not!" There were still a bit of a laugh in your voice as you answered him. "But I'm begging you not to go out right now for some sort of adventures. You're going to catch a cold."

You heard him laugh in amusement at your warning, before he reassured you. "I didn't plan on going outside, actually."

Exaggerating a sigh of relief, you made him chuckle a bit, and he continued joyfully. "I was more thinking about... Coming to your house? Would it be too far to go in your opinion?"

"Too far?" You answered with slight disbelief, cracking an amused smile at his jests. "Barrel you're literally calling me when I live just next door!"

His laugh resonated again from the other side of the line and made an endeared expression grow on your face. No matter how many time you heard it, you could never get tired of his laugh.

"Well, you got me! Does that mean I can come over?"

"Uh..." Looking around the room for a second, you were still in your sleepwear, and you didn't even got up yet. You didn't really want to welcome him like that.

"Give me 10 minutes, okay?"

You could practically hear him smile.

"Okay, will be there in 10. Be prepared! Love you."

In his eagerness, the elf barely gave you the time to answer with an endeared smile and a soft "Love you too!" before he hung up and left you to a sped-up version of your morning routine.

Of course, Barley kept his promise: precisely 10 minutes and 3 seconds after he had hung up the phone, he was ringing your doorbell almost impatiently. You suspected he had been waiting at your door for a couple of minutes now, just to make sure he'd be on-time, and the thought drew an amused smile to your lips.

Swinging the door open, you welcomed him as his face lit up at your sight. "Hey Barrel!"

He didn't even pick up the nickname, instead moving forward into the house and close to you, planting a kiss on your forehead as he took away his coat. "Hi again, beautiful."

The jacket was left in the corridor while you smiled in endearment at the sweet gesture, and only a couple of minutes later, you were both cuddled into the sofa of your living room.

"Is there anything specific you want to see?" You asked, looking up at him from the place on his chest that you were resting your head on, while the young elf was pointing the remote toward your TV's screen and looking through the available programs.

Humming, Barley wrapped his free arm tighter around your back, his hand resting on your own arm. He continued to look at different movies as he answered you. "Not really, I was hopping you'd have some suggestions for us."

You couldn't really tell why, but the simple thought that he had come over without anything to do, just to be by your side, brought a delighted grin to your lips. You couldn't even stop your cheeks from warming up as you looked at him again. You knew he loved you - it wasn't a secret to anyone, really. He was making it incredibly obvious, on an almost daily basis. But still, each and every one of his sweet little gestures made your eyes sparkle and your heart race, turning you into an absolute love-struck idiot every time.

"What's going on?"

You blinked as you realized he was looking toward you, his expression half-way between interrogative and amused as he raised a brow at your staring. Surprised at first, your expression quickly came back to one of pure affection as you smiled at him, and answered:

"Nothing, I just think you're beautiful."

Barley melted at your words, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks the same way it did every time you graced him with one of your sweet compliments. He simply couldn't stop himself from falling further in love with you, as he cuddled you against his chest and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"And you're the most magnificent person I've ever seen, sweetheart."

[lottiecrabie]

writing prompt: phone sex with matty

keeping my soft smut streak<3

it's hard when your boyfriend leaves for worldwide tours

warnings: 18+, phone sex, maybe the slightest dom vibe if you squint

1327 words

It’s fifteen minutes past four AM in Manchester. You’re blurrily awake, feeling around for your ringing phone amidst the sheets. An ocean of white seems to be swallowing it up; the sound chases you, but you just narrowly find it before it dies.

“Hey,” you say, voice croaking from the leftover fingers of Morpheus.

“Hey, babe.” Matty’s voice is loose and cheerful as he tends to get after a show. Amped up on the crowd and the wine, his diction gets sloppier, overtaken by sheer joy. Still, he’s careful to not talk too loudly, a small mercy for your waking up ears. “Were you sleeping?”

“No,” you lie, sitting up. Matty chuckles on the other line. “How was the show?”

“God, it was fucking great.” Some intelligible cheers resonate. Matty screams something along the lines of dickhead, then a door closes. The phone is suddenly quiet, like you stepped through your own cottoned cocoon. “Sorry about that. The boys are doing shots.”

“And you’re not joining them?”

“Nah. Wanna talk to you.”

You grin, acting coy. “Little old me?”

“I know. I was surprised, too.”

You laugh openly, throwing your head back. You wish he could see you: he always says it’s his favorite sight. “Shut up.” You shake your head, chuckle still lingering in your voice, melting it to some lovesick tone.

“You always give me these openings when I’m not around to take them.”

The air shifts around you. It grows thick and heavy like his voice, some low rumble that hints at all the dirty thoughts in your head. You graze a hand over your knee, blushing for no one.

“What openings?”

“Don’t act shy.”

You chuckle, raising your hand over your thigh, biting your cheek. “You’re being entirely inappropriate.” Some faint uh-huh comes from his side. It strikes through your abdomen with deadly accuracy. Your walls clench around nothing. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing?”

“Yeah?” Matty says cheekily and you can picture the shit-eating grin on his face. “Good girl like you needs help figuring it out?”

You pout, fluttering your eyelashes. He’s not around to see it, but the fake innocence rings in your voice still. “You’re making it sound dirty, Healy.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He sounds smug. “You’re teasing me.”

“Me?” You mean it as a gasp, but it comes out with pride, like accepting some humble compliment.

Matty laughs, seeing right through you. “You little shit.”

Your finger rakes over your thigh, some muted itch making you shiver. You smirk to yourself. “What are you gonna do about it?”

A groan dies in his throat. He’s out of breath when he finally says, “Kiss you.” Lips locking together, a greedy hand in the mess of your hair, greeting tongues. Your mouth burns with the idea of it. 

You feel yourself getting wetter. It’s been too long without him. “That’s it?” You still tease, because you like being difficult. “You talk a big game for nothing.”

“Hey, let me take my time. I like to seduce a woman.”

You smirk to yourself. You put the phone on speaker mode, letting it lay against your racing heart. Your tickling hand finally travels up to your pussy, grazing your clit. You moan obnoxiously, just to make sure he hears. A finger dips into your entrance and an unmistakable wet sound resonates. 

Matty chokes. “Fuck, babe.” 

Out of breath, you say, “I’m feeling seduced.”

Ruffling jeans on the phone. “God.”

You bite your lip to hide a proud grin, more a reflex than a choice. He’s not here to see all the pathetic reactions he brings out of you anyway. 

Still clearly pumping a finger into yourself, rolling your eyes as pleasure builds in your belly, you gasp, “Should I just hang up? I think I’d get there faster on my own.”

“Don’t you dare.” It practically rips out of his throat. 

You hear Matty spit, then a muffled cry. You throb around your finger, dipping another one in. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Shit, yeah.” 

You can imagine it clearly. The way he grabs his base, teases a thumb over his tip, runs a callused hand over his cock. You see his face break with his moans, forehead wrinkling with building ecstasy. It’s so clear in your mind, it’s almost real. 

A whine leaves your lips. You want it to be real.  “I wanna fuck you.” You’re too gone in the mists of bliss to care how pathetic you sound. Your free hand sneaks under your shirt, grabbing one of your tits, pinching meanly like he would do. 

“Me, too, babe.” Skin slapping. He’s clearly biting his lips from the stifled way his groans come out. The boys are probably still getting drunk right outside the room he’s in. Your thighs clench around your working fingers just at the idea. “When I come home, I’m spending the day on my knees.” 

You laugh, another wave of euphoria hitting you at the image of his head between your thighs, lapping at you. Fuck, you need his tongue. “Yeah?” 

“Gonna worship you,” Matty says. Hands digging into your hips, soft tongue licking at you hungrily, lazy thumb circling your clit. “I’ll have you coming until you’re begging me off. But I won’t stop, won’t I, love? Because you can handle it?” 

You whimper, nodding to no one. “I can handle it.” 

“And I’ll have you on the bed. In the shower. On the fucking wall. I’ll fuck you on the kitchen table and then invite my friends over, just because I’ll know what we did where they’re fucking eating.” 

You frantically nod some more, curling your fingers at a feverish pace. It never reaches the spot Matty does, capable of sending you floating, and you need three just to make up for his width. “My fingers don’t fit like yours,” you moan. 

“It’s okay, babe. I’ll take care of you. Are you close?” Matty sounds unhinged. He pants, his strokes sounding quicker and quicker. 

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, twisting your nipple, reveling in the thunderous wave of ecstasy. “Yeah, I’m really fucking close.”

“Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yes,” you say, just a little out of reach. You press at your clit, uncaring of the strings of moans gracelessly leaving your lips. “Yes, please.” 

“Come for me. I want to fucking hear you.” 

The tension finally breaks loose. You scream, imagining the dark look on his face, swollen lips moaning for you. Rolls of ecstasy hit your body, arching your back, rolling your head. On the phone, Matty cries out, a string of curses soon following. You continue swiping sloppily at yourself until it’s too much. 

The world settles down like snow. You grin, relaxed and easy. You flutter your eyes open, feeling strangely in slowmotion. 

“Fucking hell,” Matty says on the line, still breathing heavily. You giggle. “I love you.” 

“That’s the sex talking.” 

“I don’t think you can say that when there was no sex.” 

You roll to your stomach, eyelids growing heavy. “You didn’t tell me about the show.” 

Matty laughs easily, shifting. “Go to bed, babe.”

You shake your head stubbornly. “No, no. I’m not tired.” 

“It’s like 5AM.” 

“I don’t want to miss you.” You can’t miss him if he’s right there, on the phone, almost close enough to be real. If not all of him, at least his voice. 

Matty sighs. “I miss you, too. Tour will be over in no time, I swear.” 

You smile sadly, digging your chin in the crook of your elbow. The US leg really just started, but you like that he lies to you. Makes the ache sweeter. “Yeah. Then you can come home and fuck me properly.” 

You can hear his cheeky grin. “Promise, love. You won’t walk for days.” 

Your belly heats up nicely, but you really are exhausted. You yawn, nestling your head in your arms. “Sing me to sleep?” 

So tender you could choke on the sugar, “Alright.”

[noahmullariii]

a much too whiny rant about fic icks

I die a little every time pup, cub or Prongslet comes up in a wolfstar raising Harry (together or separately) fic. especially cub - it makes literally no sense????? are you sure it's Remus John Lupin I'm reading about??? it's his evil doppelganger, I'm telling you. I'm not even sure I could stomach that word ironically.

Prongslet is fine in moderation, I guess, but only as an inside joke, only coming from Sirius and only when Harry's a smol bean. but when it's Prisoner of Azkaban compliant I wanna claw my eyes out.

it's even worse when those terms are used not just in dialogue but in Remus or Sirius' internal monologue as if pup and cub are Harry's freaking pronouns or something. my cub, my pup, cub did this, pup did that... just call him boy or kid or his name for god's sake. I once saw sprog pop up and was delighted cuz at least it's actually british slang.

and don't get me started on Hadrian(us) James Orion Potter-Black (which is just... why the fuck would James give his son the name of his best mate's horrible father AND the last name of his horrible family?? and why would Lily agree to that?) who's simultaneously Lord Potter, Black, Peverell and Slytherin (and, sure, I have a visceral reaction to aristocracy wank in general but even ignoring that - the last 3 literally make no sense since "Lord Black" is Sirius until his death; and both Peverell and Slytherin lines bled into other families ages ago. so being a Potter automatically means you're descended from Peverells as well as being a Gaunt - from Slytherin. and the last of those is Tom Riddle Jr. but that wouldn't make any Potters "Lord Peverell"s or any Gaunts/Riddle "Lord Slytherin"s. those last names are dead. smh).

but, uh, this tangent technically has nothing to do with my initial complaints, it's just that at some point I started thinking of this naming stuff in tandem with nonsensical nicknames as they began appearing in fics together. which is a double homicide, truly.

and look, I definitely understand the desire to make Harry's original name something else cuz it fits nicely with POC Potters headcanon and Dursleys being racist dicks about it, but... Hadrian? I mean, it's not really a big deal when the fic mentions it being his full name but both narration and characters still refer to him as Harry for short - that makes total sense. however when after the name reveal Hadrian replaces Harry completely, it feels super weird and uncanny, making it hard to identify Harry's character in the story altogether.

although I guess you should all knock me off my high horse for being the biggest hypocrite ever, cuz I myself have a headcanon for Harry's name, even if it's less elaborate than Hadrian. also less Roman? that's another thing I don't get - if you want to create a better connection between Harry and his roots, why choose a name of a Roman emperor for a desi kid? since he's usually explicitly desi in all the Hadrian fics. so it's not that I have a problem with renaming him, per se, I just don't understand the choice of Hadrian.

for example, I recently read a fic where he was Pakistani and his name was originally Hami, which is a nice idea, actually, and makes sense for such headcanon. mine is Hari btw (हरि in Sanskrit), since I headcanon Potters as Indian, but I didn't come up with that name myself - just saw it somewhere a couple years ago and liked it. I think it's actually a pretty popular hc now? anyway, it's closer to Harry than any other name I've seen and has many beautiful meanings that resonate with what I think James and Lily felt towards their son. now, even though I still prefer his name being Harry regardless of ethnicity, I do entertain this silly headcanon from time to time - so yeah, I'm one to talk, boo me.

now, I probably should shut up since this rant has been entirely too negative already, but while I'm on the topic of icky names/nicknames I should circle back to wolfstar cuz gods know I'll never be brave enough to talk about this particular pet peeve in its own post.

Siri, Remu and Remy make my blood boil. Siri could be kinda cute when it's a silly childhood nickname from Regulus, but if any marauder or Lily calls Sirius that - immediate death. Si and Re are a teensy bit better in moderation and if used ironically, but still stab me in the chest. a couple times for good measure. the only somewhat acceptable short form of any of their two names for me is Rem, albeit with a stretch and only because it's an actual version of the name Remus in Catalan and Russian. I know I'm being way too dramatic about this (just like with all of my previous points) but I just don't understand the need to shorten their names. at all. they're only 3 and 2 syllables long and so mystical on their own that any shortening just makes them simultaneously more nonsensical and less remarkable.

both characters literally have established quirky nicknames in canon that you can play with and even shorten to Pads and Moons if you want. Sirius is not a digital assistant and Remus is not the main character from Ratatouille. stop this madness.

plus James is right there. his name has a ridiculous amount of diminutives - Jamie, Jimmy, Jim, Jam, Jem, Jay and even Jimbo if you're into that. why strip Remus and Sirius' magical names of their charm if you can have fun with common names? but I digress.

at the end of the day, my pet peeves are mine only and I should live with them in fragile peace. this post is a personal rant first and foremost and if you disagree, I'm genuinely happy that you enjoy the things I can't. fandom is a playground and we can all find some fun in different corners. I'd also like to point out that I'm not trying to take a jab at fic writers who use any of the aforementioned terms, names or diminutives. I'm only one person, so if I stop reading your work because of my petty biases, it's only my loss and not your problem. hundreds of other fans will enjoy it instead. so keep doing what you love and writing those characters however you want, it's your right!

so yeah, writers and readers - don't take it personally and have your fun! don't listen to me being mean! I'm just making my fandom experience way too convoluted for my own good.

[crow-skull]

i've never properly absorbed chnt at all for the life of me apart from it being siphoned into me from my friend who's hyperfixated on it

but uh

i think your soren art may change that for me

i resonated with your soren drawings so hard that it made me realize that i might be a soren fictionkin so uhh anyways excuse me while i continue to stare at your artwork that fills my depressed unstable mind with whimsy and euphoria and possibly actually listen to a few episodes of chnt

THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME….IM SO HAPPY MY ART WAS ABLE TO HAVE SUCH AN IMPACT ON YOU🫶🫶🫶🫶

heres a soren doodle just 4 you:3

[captainjacklyn]

Glorious Masquerade Oneshot :

As the sound of the instruments playing resonated through the school walls, Yuu had decided to have some peace and quiet away from where lingering eyes could catch sight of them. The halls were silent and all that could be heard were the footsteps of our student heading to where they could enjoy some fresh air by the window.

A gentle breeze from the evening came along to meet with the prefect who stood there, with their own thoughts, enjoying this simple yet relaxing moment.

Cheering, chatter and laughter could be heard from inside the ballroom. And Yuu was more than happy to know that their friends were having quite good fun. Yet..

While the magic less student seemed entranced in their own little world, they were quick to notice the presence of a certain someone approaching them.

"My, my, well isn't it the student council president rollo flamm himself coming to see me ? Or could my assumptions be mistaken ?"

Although surprised by how rapidly Yuu noticed his presence and attention, The man couldn't possibly let his professional facade falter in front of the prefect so he brushed it off and replaced his wide eyed expression with a coy smile.

"Not exactly hard of hearing now are you ?" He chuckled as he walked over to them. He then continued, "Enjoying the party so far ?" his eyes were now placed on Yuu who simply smiled and answered.

"Everything is wonderful, I only left to clear up my mind for a little while."

"Well it's good to know that my guests are having a good time." Yuu nodded in response, "I suppose it is important."

Rollo only nodded in acknowledgment and looked out into the starry night, the both of them staying silent for a few minutes until he finally spoke. "However..even though this isn't exactly why I came here, I've been wanting to ask you about something.."

"mhm ? What is it ?"

"You've told me about how you ended up in Night Raven college despite being magic less however where do you precisely come from ? You aren't from around here, aren't you ?" Rollo's questioned pondered in the prefect's mind as they repeatedly tried to find a good response. But nothing came.

"I..don't know how far away is my home, all I know is that many have assumed that I come from another world or maybe another universe. Even a different reality is possible !"

"..." He stayed silent as his gaze shifted back onto them.

"But what I do know is that, I'm stuck here without a clear answer of whether I'll return home or...stay." Their voice became hesitant upon stating the word 'staying', was this place really where they belonged ? Did fate decide to send them here for a reason ? Was it all an accident or a coincidence ?

Although Yuu seemed unfazed in the student council president's eyes he could guess that millions of thoughts were swirling in their mind. Making him try to snap them out of it, "Well...If you don't mind me saying.."

"Uh ?"

"The world is full of surprises, we don't always know everything and sometimes all seems lost. However I say it's better to enjoy what we have in the present moment.. and perhaps.."

"?"

"Allow me to ask you to dance with me ?" Upon asking, he moderately bowed and extended his left hand for them to take. His sudden action surprised Yuu but they were quick to regain their confidence.

Smiling as they were quite flattered by the proposal, Yuu answered : "How charming ! ..I accept your invitation, Mon cher." With that, they placed their hand in his and let their dance partner sway them away.

The moonlight shined onto the school halls, through the glistening glass windows. As the pair shared a tender moment, dancing the night away to the sound of the music which remained soft and gentle. The beautiful scene finishing with them in the arms of their cavalier, light shining as if they were the center of a stage, standing in the spotlight. Face-to-face, eyes gazing on one another's lips.

God.

why is this so goddamn CHEESY.

anyways, hope you enjoyed.

[saphronethaleph]

Blue, White and Pink Blur

“So… if I invert the second piece, I’d get an inverted waveform,” Tails said to himself, twin tails flicking. “But if I want three… oh, of course, I need to make a three-phase waveform! Circular resonance!”

He looked up at the sound of a screeech as Amy skidded to a halt in front of him.

“Hi Amy!” he waved. “What’s up!”

“Uh,” Amy began. “Is Sonic in?”

Tails scratched his head. “That depends?” he replied.

“Depends?” Amy repeated. “What do you mean, it depends? Depends on what?”

“Why you’re here,” Tails replied.

“You mean you’d say he wasn’t here if I was here for the wrong reason?” Amy asked, then paused. “...actually, yeah, I’d believe you’d do that.”

“Well, I might, but it’s not really necessary,” Tails replied. “If you’re here for the wrong reason, Sonic would be out of the house before I finished answering the question.”

Amy nodded, reluctantly. “Yeah, that’s fair too,” she admitted. “That does sound like a Sonic kind of thing.”

She looked down at Tails’s workbench.

“...what are you doing, anyway?” she asked.

Tails held it up. “It’s a new module for the Tornado!” he explained. “Next time Doctor Eggman, Ph.D (killer robots) tries to stop us, I’ll activate the Unrifler! It makes it so that all the bullets fired at the Tornado stop spinning, so they miss.”

Amy looked like she dearly wanted to ask how Tails had pronounced the brackets, but visibly let it go.

“...anyway!” she said. “That’s neat, but I came here for a reason – I wanted to ask Sonic about something, and then maybe why he never told me!”

“Told you what?” Sonic asked, leaning out the window. “Hi Amy! You’re not going to ask me out on a date, right?”

Amy looked contemplative.

“Would you say yes?” she asked.

“No way!” Sonic replied.

“Then no,” Amy replied, with a sigh. “But – look, uh, this actually is about you, Sonic. You know Surge?”

“Oh, yeah, her!” Sonic agreed. “She’s kind of mean sometimes. Kitsunami’s cool – kinda needs to take a chill pill but I know how hard that can be sometimes. But what about her?”

He looked combative. “Has she tried getting revenge on an uncaring world again? We never did properly stop her, Kit took her off and we don’t actually know where she ended up.”

“No, I just… I met her, and we talked,” Amy replied. “It was weird, we were both just out doing grocery shopping, ended up in the same shop… we both like gnocchi, that was a surprise.”

Amy shook her head. “But, uh… did you know she started as a clone of you, Sonic? She said Kitsunami worked it out in his lab…”

“Oh, he’s got a lab?” Tails asked. “That’s cool. I should do a joint paper with him sometime! I bet there’s something we could put together-”

“-not the point!” Amy insisted. “Sorry, Tails. But I kind of feel like I need to ask, because Surge is a girl and you’re not… is she that much of a clone?”

Sonic glanced at Tails, and Tails glanced back.

“Up to you, bro,” Tails said.

“I guess,” Sonic replied. “And, yeah. I guess the guy who made her did some kind of genetic modification and stuff, but that bit’s right.”

“Huh,” Amy said. “Okay, new question. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How would that go, Amy?” Tails asked.

“I’m open minded!” Amy defended herself.

Sonic tried not to snigger, not quite successfully.

“I don’t mean like that,” Tails replied. “I mean, how would that conversation go? How do you start off with something like that?”

Amy began to answer, stopped, and looked contemplative.

“...okay, yeah,” she said, eventually. “That would be… but still…”

“Does this mean you won’t want to go out with me any more?” Sonic asked, in a hopeful kind of way.

“What?” Amy replied. “Of course I still want to go out with you, Sonic! You’re the best!”

“Darn,” Sonic said, snapping his fingers.

“But yeah, not many people know,” Tails said, drawing Amy’s attention again. “I know. Sonic, obviously. I guess that doctor who made Surge does, and so does she if she’s worked it out… Kit must know, he had the DNA sample to do the test you mentioned… and then there’s you, Doctor Eggman, and Espio-”

“Doctor Eggman – Espio?!” Amy asked, trying to work out which was more surprising. “How-”

“Eh, the Doc’s equal opportunity evil,” Sonic shrugged. “And Espio? Great voice coach, seriously. But apart from that, it’s just those weird mystical entities I’ve fused with. I’d give you a list but we’d be here all week.”

Amy nodded, vaguely.

“I guess that explains, maybe one thing,” she said. “Anyway, I said I wasn’t going to ask you for a date so… I, actually don’t know what to do for the rest of my afternoon.”

Tails thought for a few seconds.

“I’ve got a prototype Extreme Gear to try out?” he suggested. “It’s pink.”

“Sold!” Amy agreed immediately.

(based on a post I spotted going around, which I apparently can't reblog this to for some reason.)

[wasyago]

Do you have any advice for someone who isn’t an art clout chaser but more just wants ppl to see their art?

i mean, i don't know, i just post things that i enjoy making and people who like it stick around, umm

but i guess if you're asking for advice specifically there are some things that might help? not in any particular order.

have a specific tag for your art that is either obvious or easy to find, in your bio or pinned for example. most artists use "my art" tag, some artists have unique tags, id's say if its easy to understand that this tag leads to specifically things that you've drawn - its good. its hard to find all your art among the reblogs, so having an easy path to it is helpful!

speaking of tags, use fandom and character tags if you're drawing for a fandom! that's like, the main way people can first learn of you - if they check their favorite character's tag and see your art there! i don't post original work so idk what tags to use there, but if you need it you can do some research and find out.

have a signature with the name of your blog or account on your art. please. for when someone saves your art and wants to find your acc later, or when someone shows it to their friend and they're interested enough to find you, or when someone forgets your url, or anything. please sign your art!!!!!!! as someone who loves saving pictures and looking at them later, im begging you, its impossible to find you when you don't sign your art.

don't be mean to yourself in the captions under your art. i know its enticing to say "a shitty doodle haha" or "this drawing sucks but im posting it anyway", but please don't. for yourself first of all, be kind to yourself, this is art, not a test. and for others as well, because when people see that the artist is downing on themselves - they don't want to engage with that and are less likely to reblog your art. by saying something mean you invite people to feel the same. (i myself struggle with this by saying criticisms in my tags, but im trying to deal with it)

kind of on the same topic, don't try to gaslight or pressure people into reblogging your art either. don't say things like "reblog this or you're not a good person ^_^" or "if you don't reblog you hate art". just like. no.

umm, make your art look presentable in the post. i don't have any structural advice on how to do this, just uh. comes with practice i guess, figuring out when a drawing is better to post on its own, when it's better to have a lot of small things together, when its better to have a drawing big and clear or have multiple in a row for people to click on, etc. depends on the context and your style and stuff so, try things?

i guess customize your blog to where it's fitting you and your style? this is definitely more of a personal preference than advice. i like it when a blog is easy and pleasing to look at and doesn't hurt my eyes, bright colors and eyestrains are very hard to look at for long and if they're everywhere - this is definitely not a page im gonna stay on for longer than 3 seconds. again, personal preference, and this is more of a "know your audience" type of deal.

and just. enjoy what you're doing? have fun and post things that you like and resonate with? find your own way of doing things and posting? be yourself? remember that this is tumblr and we're all just sharing our interests and thoughts and we're all just people here? yea

[wandering-winchesters]

When the Storm Clouds Roll in

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: On a particularly hard day, the reader relies on Dean for comfort. Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, Depression, slight mentions of suicidal ideation, self hatred, mentions of the loss of a loved one. Requested: Yes, by @roseblue373 A/N: This one struck a definite cord and I pulled from my personal experience with depression. If this resonates with you, please know you are not alone. As always, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

From the moment I opened my eyes this morning, I knew it was going to be one of those days. The kind of days where any task seems completely insurmountable, impossible and overwhelming. Out of the 365 days in a year, this one was my favorite but the hardest, at least for the last four years. I have yet to convince myself to clamber out of bed, the warmth of the blankets too inviting and comforting to desire leaving. I continue to scroll through the pictures on my phone, reminiscing on the years past. I land on a picture of my family and I, taken shortly before one of my loved ones had passed away and tears spring to my eyes. It was their birthday today and all of the feelings that were bubbling within me were completely overwhelming. I sniff and wipe away the tears that had formed in my eyes. I draw in a deep breath and roll out of bed, landing on my toes. I decide against putting on real clothes, deciding that today is a laid back day anyways. I open the door to my room and glance down the hallway of the bunker, neither of the boys anywhere to be seen. I can hear music coming from the kitchen and I follow it, knowing that I would find Dean judging by the song that was playing. My suspicions are confirmed, when I round the corner and find Dean making eggs and bacon on the stove. The sight of him brings me immense comfort, something I would never admit out-loud but within the confines of my own mind its an accepted truth. He doesn’t notice me right away, his attention focused on the bacon in front of him. I open the fridge and he turns to look at me, his eyes crinkling in the way they do when he smiles. 

“Good morning sweetheart,” He says, taking a bite out of the bacon he had already finished cooking. His shirt stained from the grease spitting out of the pan. I look him over from head to toe and can’t help but give a small smile. 

“Ya know, if you didn’t cook the bacon on such a high temp, the grease wouldn’t splatter as much.” I tell him, deciding on a cup of tea to start my morning. I grab my favorite mug and the tea of my choice, before setting the water to boil. He dramatically rolls his eyes at me, mimicking me and repeating my words back in a high pitched tone. 

“Jerk.” I mumble, placing the tea bag into my mug and leaning back against the counter to wait for the water to boil.

“Bitch.” He shoots back, flipping the pieces of bacon still in the pan. He yelps when the grease pops and lands directly on his hand. I shake my head, a slight laugh leaving my throat as he discreetly turns the temperature down on the stove, following my earlier advice. Instead of commenting, I keep my mouth shut and pour the now hot water into my mug. 

“So,” He changes the subject, his eyes trained on me now, the bacon sizzling away in the background. “You up for a hunt today? Should be basic, couple of vamps a few towns away.” He offers me a piece of bacon, but I shake my head no. Hunger the furthest thing away from what I am feeling at the moment. 

“Uh, I don’t think so. I’ll hang back on this one, have some stuff I need to get done.” I look away from him, kicking an invisible piece of dirt on the tile floor. I can feel his eyes on me, his suspicions obvious on his face, hence why I won’t make eye contact with him. 

“What kind of stuff?” He presses, for whatever reason this rubs me the wrong way and I snap back at him, my words harsher than I meant them to be. 

“What���s with the twenty questions? I am an adult, I can stay behind if I want to.” I grumble, taking my tea and leaving Dean standing open mouthed, unsure what he did wrong. In reality, he didn’t do anything wrong. I just wouldn’t be able to keep myself together if I was to go on the hunt with them and I wouldn’t put them in danger like that. My inability to focus today, could not be the reason that one of the boys gets injured. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that were the case. I walk into the library, deciding to spend my morning reading a book, in hopes of distracting myself from the sadness and grief trying to weasel their way past my internal walls. Sam is already in there, an old book carefully opened before him, his notebook open beside it. I give him a smile, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears attempting to break free.

“Hey Y/N, you coming along today?” He asks, his voice tired but he disguises it well behind the smile he’s wearing. I shake my head in response, not trusting my voice to function the way that I want it to. He looks slightly taken aback by my refusal, his eyes studying me carefully. It’s out of the ordinary for me to stay behind on a hunt, I am usually the first to volunteer. The chance to get out, learn and take out the creatures that roam the earth and harm people an opportunity I rarely pass up on. Sam doesn’t push me, but I can feel his questions lingering heavy in the air even though they are unspoken. I pull a book off the shelves and decide to return to the safety and quiet of my room. 

—

The boys leave for the hunt around noon, Dean poking his head into my room to verify one last time that I am not coming along with them. He looks disappointed and concerned when my answer remains the same. Even though there were tasks that I am behind on and that need completing, I can’t find it within me to actually do them. I have not left my bed since I climbed back in it after finishing my tea. My thoughts are becoming louder, harder to ignore to the point where I give in and let them overwhelm me. I could feel depression imminent, a large storm cloud looming at a distance waiting for the currents of wind to pick up and carry the storm in. The cloud is growing and the winds are picking up and there’s nothing I can do. The water around me is rising and I can’t swim. It feels like I am drowning. My lungs are restricted, not from water, but from my own thoughts and emotions.

Grief looms at the forefront, worthlessness and self hatred following close behind. Everything around me fades to the background, my brain fully incapacitated by the thoughts within my head, unable to focus on anything tangible. The pit in my stomach is growing and before I know it, tears are flowing down my cheeks. My chin is quivering and I feel like screaming, I slip out of my bed and sit on the cold hard floor. An attempt to ground myself, I place my head in my hands and rock myself gently. My heart hurt so much that it felt like I was going to die, unable to process just how to move forward, it felt impossible. It would be easier if I weren’t here, the burden I was to Sam and Dean would be lifted, they could go back to the way things were before they met me. They didn’t care about me anyways, it would be easier. What good am I to them anyways? I am worthless, I always slow them down on hunts, there’s nothing I can do that they can’t handle better without me tagging a long. I know that these feelings aren’t me speaking, its depression screaming. I have reasonable thoughts and unreasonable thoughts. The problem is that the reasonable side of my brain speaks in a whisper, unable to be louder. The unreasonable thoughts have a megaphone, unable to be ignored. 

The ache in my chest turns to a burn and the occasional tear turns into a constant stream. How do I recover from this? It has been years and yet the grief is still so fresh? What is wrong with me that I still cannot cope all of these years later? It’s pathetic. I feel pathetic. Good, you should feel pathetic. You’re worthless. The voice in my head is so loud, so cruel and completely debilitating. These thoughts continue to repeat, my brain a recording that is on repeat. Seconds turn to minutes, which turns to hours. I have no concept of time, I notice the darkening of the room around me but besides that I am numb to all of it. I am so entrapped within my thoughts that I don’t realize that I am no longer alone, the slight chatter of the Winchester brothers travels through the bunker, but it falls upon deaf ears.

The panic that I am entrapped in so all consuming. I don’t hear the refrigerator door slam, the clink of beer bottles or the footsteps approaching my room. I don’t hear the knock, or the gentle call of my name. Upon not hearing a response, Dean opens my door, surveying the scene before him. Unknown to me is the way his heart shatters at what he sees, something that I will not find out for years to come. I am blind to all of this, until I feel hands on my body, tugging me gently into an embrace. My sense are overwhelmed with the smell of cologne, beer and leather. Dean. His hands are on my waist, lifting me into place on his lap. I immediately sink into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his jacket. So desperate for comfort, there is no space within me to be ashamed of my actions. I can hear him speaking, but I am still too worked up to focus on his words. He must be able to sense this, because he changes tactics. He slips a hand under the hem of my shirt, settling on my lower back, his fingers tracing patterns into my skin. Something he knows will calm me, because at another day and time, I had told him that was the fastest way to pull me out of my head. Skin on skin contact. He brings his other hand to the nape of my neck, his fingers gentle but firm as he angles my head so his lips can reach my forehead. He gingerly places kisses to the crown of my head, his lips still murmuring words of comfort. I begin to catch bits and pieces, you’re okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe, sweetheart. Just breathe. Words he continues to repeat until my shaking stops, my breathing calms and I am back in control of my body. 

“‘M sorry.” I breathe out, my shuttering inhale catching in my throat. He shushes me, his grip on me never letting up. 

“Don’t ever apologize for this, I just wish I could’ve been here for you. Has this been bugging you all day?” He asks, his voice deep and comforting. I nod against his shoulder, exhaustion washing over my body. My muscles aching from the position I had been in on the floor for hours. He lets out a sigh, pulling away from me ever so slightly so he can see my face. I avert my eyes from him, not wanting him to see how red my face is from crying. He doesn’t let me though, he tucks a finger under my chin and raises it until I meet his gaze. 

“Spill.” That one word is all it takes, a fresh wave of tears spills over, he wipes them all away with his fingertips. He’s patient with me, helping me regain my composure before I begin to speak. 

“I lost someone, a few years back and today would have been their birthday. It hit me incredibly hard this morning and ever since then, everything has just been crumbling around me. My depression has been all consuming, voicing my biggest fears and self doubts and- and, it just made everything seem unbearable.” My voice starts out strong, but by the end of my sentence it’s faltering. Deans hand strokes my lower back, his touch gentle but reassuring. 

“I’m so sorry, that is really hard to bear. What kind of thoughts, Y/N?” He asks, concern evident. I debate on being untruthful, hiding just how bad it had gotten from him. He notices my hesitation because he follows up his question with a plea for honesty, his voice never wavering. I nod and take another moment to choose my words. 

“I feel like a burden to you, worthless and just that- well that you and Sam would be better off without me.” Another tear rolls down my face and I quickly brush it away, shame seeping in over the feelings of self doubt and hatred. Being open and vulnerable was not one of my strengths and I fully expected Dean to laugh and reaffirm my darkest thoughts. He didn’t. His face fell, and I could see anguish written on his features. His lips were pulled into a tight, thin line. His breath catching in his chest, before he blew it out all at once. 

“Y/N, do you have those thoughts a lot?” He asks, his voice calm and his eyes catching my own once more. I shrug, fiddling with the tag on the back of his shirt where my hands had come to rest. 

“More often than not, deep down I know they’re not true, but it’s incredibly difficult to find solace in that.” I admit, my words flowing before I can stop them. He’s silent, for one minute then two. It begins to psych me out, my breathing hitching in my throat again. I shift my body, moving to climb off his lap and retreat into my shell once again. His hands stop me, firmly gripping my hips. 

“Don’t.” He pleads, and I meet his eyes for the first time in a few minutes and I’m caught off guard. Tears, he has tears in his vivid green eyes. I still and remain in his grasp, puzzled as to why he’s crying. 

“Sweetheart, I know that nothing I say can completely change the way you see yourself. Yet I can’t not say it.” He tucks his fingers beneath my chin once more, firmly holding my head in place. “You are the farthest thing from worthless, the fact that you think you’re replaceable breaks my heart. You are so incredibly valued by Sam and myself. The whole time we were gone, we were thinking of you. We were concerned about you. Do you think we’d do that if we didn’t love you and want you to be with us? I’m so sorry for the grief that you are still processing, it takes so long to come to terms with that and I am so proud of you for coming this far. It’s a difficult battle to face, everyday. If I could take all of this hurt from you, I would in a heartbeat.” His hand has moved from beneath my chin to cupping my face, his thumb stroking gently along my cheek. My eyes flutter closed, his touch filling a part of my soul that I didn’t know needed comfort. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks once again, stinging slightly as they rush over my raw skin. 

His touch is gentle as he wipes them away, the ache in my heart is easing ever so slightly as the time in his arms passes. 

“Dean?” I whisper, my words hanging heavy in my throat. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” I take a deep breath, my hands gripping his shoulders as I steady myself.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I’m afraid of what will happen if I am alone with my thoughts.” He agrees without hesitation, he lets me know he’s going to go grab a change of clothes but that he will return shortly. He stands, pulling me up with him. He instructs me to climb into bed and that he will be right back. 

I stand for a moment, dumb struck over our previous discussion, still shocked that he agreed to stay with me. 

He comes back a few minutes later, like he said he would. He smiles as he crosses into my room, a blanket and pillow tucked beneath his arm, his laptop clutched in the other. He kicks my door closed gently with his foot, dropping the bedding on the floor beside my bed. He sets the laptop on my bed. 

“Find a movie you want to watch, while I set up my bed.” He says, spreading the blanket out on my floor. He asks to borrow one of my mine and I hand him one of my favorites. He thanks me, before settling onto the floor. I find a movie I want to watch, some action movie that I know he will enjoy. 

The movie passes quickly and before I know it, his steady and even breathing is easily heard over the dialogue. He fell asleep, and suddenly loneliness is overwhelming once again. I contemplate what I should do, I should go to sleep like the adult I am supposed to be. However, there’s this tug in my heart that’s telling me to climb down next to Dean and curl up with him, once again. I give into the temptation and quietly sink onto the floor next to him, and burrow underneath the blanket he has wrapped around him. He quickly opens his arms for me and I wrap myself around him. He lips find my forehead and his sleep words catch me completely off guard. 

“I love you, sweet girl.” He whispers, his voice so soft I couldn’t tell if I’d imagined it. A question I’d have to save until morning. I pulled him closer and whispered back.

“I love you too, Dean.” It was his three words that washed away all of my doubt and self hatred. The grief and sadness too, while I know it won’t last forever. I am going to enjoy the emptiness within my thoughts while it lasts. I allow myself to drift off in his embrace and I hope that this will become a regular thing. 

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 36

It's such a treat to get sensible two-parters, look

And we're back! The cliffhanger is resolved by the Doctor sternly telling the gas mask zombies to go to their room because he's very cross, and they meekly do. This is actually a very clever way to get out of it, I think. It's nice when Moffat manages a genuinely clever twist.

Also, it means right before the opening credits roll, the Doctor breaks the tension by saying "I'm glad that worked, those would have been terrible last words." Eighteen years ago, in a student house in Rhoath, we shat ourselves we laughed so hard. Still a great line.

Anyway, fuck, this is SUCH a good episode. The plot is actually relatively brief (it turns out that ambulance Jack crashed here was full of medical nanogenes, and the first thing they found was a now-dead child still in a gas mask. But they'd never seen a human before, so they 'healed' him to a zombie creature. Now they're trying to heal all humans. The reason they're asking for their mam is because it's Nancy! Not his sister after all.) But, the episode contains multiple repeated creepy scenes to fill in for the lack of plot, and they're all bangers and all undercut with just the right amount of humour to be a foil. Love the Doctor replacing Jack's gun with a banana. Love the line "Rose, I'm trying to resonate concrete." Love Rose discovering that the future of the human race is to fuck its way across the stars and that Jack has probably fucked a space squid. All great

It's just a shame about all the cringeworthy sex and romance talk disguised as a dancing metaphor. That made me wince two decades ago and time has not made it better. Even editing doesn't give Moffat the ability to write anything romantic that doesn't feel like unsettling wet noodles. Sometimes, being synaesthetic is a curse.

Ultimately Nancy tells the Bluetooth zombie that she's his Mam and the nanogenes realise her DNA is the correct one. This means there's an absolutely delightful bit where Christopher Eccleston throws his whole pussy into yelling "Just this once, Rose, everybody lives!" and the day is utterly saved. It's true, that is rare. I am still haunted by Horror of Fang Rock. What an awful story. Never forget poor Vince.

This means Richard Wilson lives!

"Uh, all your patients will in fact be fully healed," the Doctor says. "Just quietly take credit and send them along."

"Doctor!" says a random woman. "My leg's grown back! When I came to hospital I only had one!"

"Well, there is a war on," says Richard Wilson, with devastating comedic delivery. "Is it possible you miscounted?"

And then Rose and the Doctor rescue Jack before his ship blows up, and then the episode ends EXACTLY ONE SECOND after Jack enters the TARDIS, yes that's right, there is NO MORE OF THE EPISODE. They most certainly did not ruin this incredible story with one of the most nauseating and awful scenes in televisual history that still gives me bone-creaking second-hand embarrassment. Nope. It ends when Jack walks in. He says "It's bigger on the inside" and we all just... move on. We're done. The end. Tidy.

Anyway!!! Only one new plot thread, I think - Jack reveals at one point that he used to be a Time Agent, but they stole two years of his memories. Exciting!!! That has also happened to the Doctor. I wonder if it's related?

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy. NEW INFO: she is definitely not blown up)

The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?)

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?

How did Nardole die?

When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years?

How does the Doctor survive River

How does he erase himself from history

Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?

[robo-dino-puppy]

10 Fandoms, 10 Characters, 10 Tags

thank you for the tag @bluntblade! (i'm embarrassed this took me so long. also i've never been good at ranking things so uh don't consider this list in order of most favorite or anything)

Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

Character I think about if I'm having a bad day <3 This scene between the windows in Partners in Crime never fails to cheer me up. Also: "You're not mating with me, sunshine!" Theeeeee best platonic relationship with the Doctor IMO.

Varl (Horizon)

Aloy did not appreciate this good dude nearly enough. I want Varl to be my BFF. T_T But HFW happened and... I won't say too much about that or we'd be here all day. He's alive in my head and that's all that matters.

Cimorene (The Enchanted Forest Chronicles)

Cimorene! She's no-nonsense and clever. She wasn't a fan of being treated like a princess so she went and "got captured by" a dragon so people would stop bothering her, and helps her cook and organize her library. I mean, goals.

Loki (MCU)

I wasn't into the MCU when it started getting big, and in fact I didn't see any of the movies until I read someone on Tumblr (c. 2012) going on about (paraphrased) how awful it was that people liked Loki because he was the absolute worst and if you liked him you were a gross immoral person and you should feel bad. So I went and watched this Avengers movie everyone was talking about. And guess what haters? He is terrible and I love him.

Parker (Leverage)

Although I am not brave enough to throw myself off buildings, sometimes I amuse myself by thinking "what would Parker do?" and since a canonical option involves stabbing someone who's bothering her with a fork and jumping out a window, the thought cheers me up even if I can't do that.

Aziraphale (Good Omens)

He just wants people (aside from Crowley) to leave him alone in his bookshop. He never fits in with his "side" but tries to do what they want anyway, because that's the good thing to do, and he wants to be good. I can relate so hard, buddy.

Milo Thatch (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

Ok so... I totally had a crush on Michael J. Fox and I was already interested in linguistics back when this movie came out, and then here's a main character voiced by him who was a linguist! Milo had to be my favorite :D

Elena Fisher (Uncharted)

I will fully admit that some of my initial love of Elena came from her AI covering my panic-flailing self early on in the first Uncharted game (I'm THE WORST at games with guns, even on easy, it's actually embarrassing) - but she impressed me right away when she was not overly impressed by Nate. And her snark game is on point.

Zeb (Star Wars Rebels)

I feel like Zeb needs more love. Comic relief character who actually has an unbelievably tragic backstory! And his story has so much untapped potential! We never really get to explore what happened with Lasan, and then then dump Kallus in there with his defection to the Rebellion and his whole *handwaves* history with the Lasats and eventual apparent (b)romance with Zeb - and the show had so little to say about it! Huge angsty storytelling miss right there. (Dave why.)

Brian Finch (Limitless [2015])

This dude! Lovable but he would be SO exasperating to deal with IRL. His arts-and-craftiness just resonated with me. He was always making stuff out of toothpicks and yarn and papier mâché and clay and and and- I'm still mad this show only got one season.

zero-pressure tags: @mari-mary, @ayaitch, @hannahmationstudios, @inomakani, @fogsblue, @nerd-artist, @singingkestrel, @prototypelq, @tjerra14, @artekai or just consider yourself tagged if you want to do it!

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Every Rose Has it's Thorn

-Part 1-

>Part 2

Universe: Teenage Mutant Teenage Turtles (Bayverse aged-up turtles)

Rating: NSFW, R for swearing mostly MINORS DNI

Raphael x OC (female character)

Tags: Trigger Warning- drugging, assault, violence, original character, slow burn romance

Hi! This is my first attempt at writing. I have been wanting to do an OC fic forever, and I was so completely inspired by @sultrysirens oc characters that I wanted to make my own (Seriously, go read their stuff it's amazing!). Anyways, the beginning is a bit dark and scary, but I'm so excited to continue the story. This series is centered around my original character, Rose.

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

-Rose had a shit day and heads to a local dive bar for a drink, only to soon realize her day is only going down from here.

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

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Rose Soriano took a swig of the drink that the bartender had slid to her across the lacquered bar top, gifted from some guy a bit down the counter. She raised her glass in thanks and gave an awkward half smile, appreciative for the second round but hoping he wouldn’t take her acceptance as an excuse to wander over.

She was wrong.

As she nursed the blended scotch in her glass, the tall white dude sauntered over and sat down.

“Hey, my name’s Mark. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all by yourself?” The blonde spoke with a cocky smile plastered on his lips, brown eyes a little hazed with drink and oozing confidence. He looked nice enough; handsome in a boring way, not bad to look at- but just like every other 25 year old white guy in New York. If she had been interested in dating at the moment, Rose may have given him a shot in another life. But unfortunately for him, she was in no mood for this brand of bullshit tonight.

She had a shit day and just needed some time alone with her thoughts.

“Hi, yeah uh, thanks for the drink but-” She waved a delicate hand in his direction as she spoke, but he cut her off before she could finish her thought.

“What’s your name? Are you from around here?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Look man, thanks for the drink and all- but I’m really not interested.” Turning back to her scotch she tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence between them, and the bubbling frustration resonating off the young man pestering her.

“What, we can’t just have a conversation? Who said that I was trying to pick you up or anything, maybe I was just looking for some company.” He shifted in his seat, legs turning so he faced her as his tone turned sharp in the quiet space between them. “Now are you gunna tell me your name or what? Like I bought you a drink, the least you could do is tell me who you are.”

Sigh.

Of course things could never go the easy way, he just had to be difficult.

Rose shifted uncomfortably at the counter, her shoes dangling just above the foot rail as she perched on her stool. She was short, not even 5'4" with a petite and curvy hourglass frame that fit snugly on the seat. Her luscious mane of copper curls cascaded over her shoulders as she tensed into the counter, the blonde highlights peeking out from her bangs and glowing in the low bar lighting as her deep, emerald green eyes side-eyed the man sitting next to her.

After a lengthy internal debate, she decided giving her name would not kill her, and hunched further against the bar top as she answered him. 

“Name’s Rose. Nice to meet you.”

“See, was that so hard?” Mark sneered, making her outwardly cringe as she immediately regretted her decision. “So, why are you here by yourself? Boyfriend ditch you?” 

Rose snorted, eyes rolling as she looked back to her glass.

She was incredibly beautiful; she knew it, everywhere she went people knew it- she couldn’t escape it.

But after years of bad experiences with men she had a bad attitude and a big mouth, which usually led to them running off, tails between their legs, when they tried hitting on her in public like this. Normally she only went out with friends and would’ve told this man off in a heartbeat, but being alone at the bar, and after everything that happened today, she was left feeling a little vulnerable and less bold than usual.

She glared over her glass at him as he rested an arm on the bar top next to her. 

“That is honestly none of your business, and I would really prefer to be alone dude. Besides,” she turned to point out some young women giggling at the other end of the bar, “those girls seem way more your speed.”

As she turned back, she saw movement in her peripheral vision, but when she looked again at her surroundings nothing had appeared to have changed, so she dismissed it.

Mark flashed a cocky smile at her but seemed to take the bait.

“Aight, your loss. But if you change your mind I’ll be over there waiting, hot stuff.”

Giving a wink, he stood up from his seat and left Rose’s side to go chat with the young 21 year olds in the corner.

“Thank god that’s finally over. I thought he’d never get the hint.” She mumbled into her glass, finally relaxing again.

She took another hit of the scotch, and let her mind wander back to the events of the day.

Rose had come home from a gig to find her boyfriend of eight years in bed with another man, and while she was upset and hurt, she also didn’t know how to process the new information.

She felt guilty, mostly. She may have pushed him into the relationship when he wasn’t ready, and he had been stalling on proposing but wouldn’t give a reason why. With everything in the open now she felt like a weight had been lifted, that maybe she wasn’t unattractive- her boyfriend was just gay.

Shaking her head, she took another swig, wincing at the burn as it slid down her throat.

Her now ex-boyfriend had promised that he wouldn't be at their shared apartment tonight, so she could process what happened and make a plan on what to do next.

God, she hadn’t even called her brother yet. That was going to be an absolute nightmare of I-told-you-so’s. She had written off his comments about her relationship and ignored the signs: the lack of affection, the constant trips out of town, the hanging out with friends that she wasn’t invited to that would end up as overnighters.

Hell, she still loved Nick, but her heart ached for the both of them. How long was he suffering in silence about this, and why didn’t he just come out and talk to her? They had been friends before they started dating, and they were supposed to be a team, right?

Damn, this is a mess.

Her eyes were glued to the remaining liquor in her glass as she swirled the liquid around, the last of the melting ice cube clinking against the sides of the container.

A fucking mess.

Signaling the bartender, she paid her tab and finished the last of her drink.

Rose slid off the stool, and as she stepped towards the door, suddenly the room started to spin.

Did I drink that much?

Shit.

Desperately trying to regain control of her body, she took a deep breath and moved quickly on unsteady feet out the main entry doors for some fresh air.

Once outside, the cool September air whipped against her face as she adjusted to the darkness of the city street.

The lights from the bar's front entry were growing fuzzy around the edges, and she couldn't tell if it was from the panic in her throat or the hum of the liquor in her system.

Rose shook her head and quickly stepped into the quiet alley next the bar, trying to maintain her composure while methodically trying to retrace the night's events.

Luckily her apartment building was close by, but she wasn’t sure she could walk with how much everything was spinning out of control.

Two drinks?

Yes, they were strong. But two had never been an issue before.

Then it hit her.

“That FUCKER!”  

The arm movement that she dismissed earlier- he must have put some kind of roofie in her drink when she turned her head.

Remembering what she could about the drug, she immediately stuck her finger down her throat trying to ralph up anything she could muster. Cringing at the action, and hoping she wasn’t too late, she got up what she could and dug into her bag for her phone while stabilizing herself against the wall.

Just as she tried to hit the call button on the screen, her phone was smacked out of her hand and she felt a force knock the wind out of her, leaving her gasping for air and falling to the ground.

“ We can’t have you doing that, now can we? Not after how long I had to wait for you to finally get up and leave- you don’t want to be rude, right?”

Mark and another man that she hadn’t seen before were standing above her, smiling and laughing to themselves.

She was still present enough to know how much danger she was in, but could barely see straight enough to even stand up, let alone fight her way out of this.

Fuck.

Mark bent down to grab her hair at the scalp and forced her to look up at him. “Now, we’re going to all play nice, and as long as you behave you’ll be fine.”

With his last words she felt a knife press against her throat, the blade thick and sharp. There was a stinging sensation as blood was drawn where the point of the metal was stabbing into her skin. And she couldn't help the wince that curled the other man's lips up into a sneer. 

The other man flicked his eyes back to the alley entrance, and jutted his chin at Mark to head further into the darkness.

Her assailant yanked on her hair, in an attempt to drag her up on her feet and get her to comply. As she clumsily stood and took a few swaying steps with them, the knife left her skin and came to rest at his side, still a threat but no longer drawing blood.

Rose’s mind was swimming too much to think of a full plan, but she knew she had to do something.

No se saldrán con la suya sin pelear conmigo, malditos cabrones- I’d rather die.

An old saying from her Dad popped into her mind as she stumbled in Mark’s grip down the alley:

Lucha hasta el final, chaval; Go down swingin', kid.

Hearing movement somewhere nearby that wasn’t the two men, she made a decision.

Hopefully whoever was nearby would hear her and help. Or, at least she gave it her best shot- no regrets.

Gathering up her courage, she went for it. Rose knew she would have a few seconds, and she had to make them count.

Using what strength and focus she had left, she turned in Mark’s direction quicker than he could react and palm striked his nose. She felt the crunch of his cartilage in her hand right before he cursed loudly.

“WHAT THE FUCK BITCH!?!”

She had already started to turn and run, but her movements were slow due to the drug in her system.

Giving everything she had, she screamed.

“HELP, SOMEONE PLEASE HEL-”

She was tackled to the ground before she could get to the street and felt a hard kick to the ribs as someone held her down. The pain was so intense she wanted to cry, but there was no air left in her small body. The kick had winded her again, and she was left gasping as the strikes continued.

“You -fucking- bitch-” Mark huffed in between thuds of his shoes against her chest. He stopped the barrage and spit on the ground near her face. “If you thought it was going to be bad before- you have no idea what you’re in for now.”

The other guy moved from restraining Rose on the ground and grabbed her hair again. She was bleeding now, red smeared on her skin like blush.

“You’re gunna get it bitch, and you’re gunna be beggin we kill you.” He chuckled darkly and turned back to Mark, grabbing the knife again and holding it against her cheek.

Mark stood off to the side, eyeing her smugly as his nose dripped with his own blood. 

“First, we’re gunna start with cuttin off this pretty hair of yours.” He sneered, obviously enjoying himself.

Rose was barely hanging on to consciousness and felt a tear run down her cheek, knowing this would be her last night on this earth and these pricks were the last thing she’d ever see.

I tried, Dom.

I'm sorry. 

Suddenly, a figure landed behind the men with a powerful thud on the pavement.

“Now that’d be a shame to wreck her pretty hair, don’t ya think Leo?”

The men jumped at the gravelly voice behind them, and audibly gasped when three other figures emerged from the shadows.

One of them stepped closer.

“I believe you’re right, Raph. It looks like these boys don’t understand the meaning of chivalry.” The figure leaned down to look both trembling men in the face. “Let go of her. Now.”

The man holding her tightened his grip on her hair, and Rose could feel his hand shaking. She yelped from the pain and the first figure that had spoken growled under his breath.

“You gunna fuckin make me, freaks?!” The man sneered and flicked his knife in their direction. “Just leave us alone and we won’t hurt y-.” He had barely finished speaking when the first figure grabbed the man’s neck with one hand and lifted him off the ground.

He let go of Rose and the knife to grab at the massive fingers around his throat, and she sank to the ground unconscious as the blade clattered to the asphalt. 

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

Raphael and his brothers had been cooped up for so long in the lair that they were all going a bit stir crazy.

Master Splinter had not been feeling well, so the team had stayed home to care for him in his old age for a week or so while he recovered. Donatello and Leonardo were the main care-takers, while Raphael and Michelangelo mostly tried to stay out of the way.

As a result, the two spent most of their time in the weight room, annoying their brothers with the constant clinking of metal all hours of the night.

Tensions had reached a boiling point this afternoon, when Donnie had been trying to nap on the couch. Mikey and Raph had snuck up behind the sofa and flipped it, sending their brother flying with a squawk as he flailed to the ground.

As a result, Mikey and Raph were sentenced to bathroom cleaning duty for a month, and once Sensei was tucked in for the night, the team headed out to patrol.

They had stopped for a moment atop an apartment building in the dark of the city, waiting and listening. Donnie had been combing through the police scanner, but it was a quiet night in NYC.

Well, as quiet as the city gets anyway, Raph thought.

There was the constant hum of cars, horns, and people bustling around 24/7, but he loved it.

New York was home, and even though they would never be able to live like humans, he still wouldn’t trade his life for the world.

As Raph was lost in the view of the city skyline, a yell from a few blocks over caught the turtle's attention.

The team jumped into action, headed to the source of the noise.

Each turtle had a different style of traveling from roof -to-roof, and Raphael laughed as he watched the youngest flip through the air over a billboard- Mikey loved to show off with his board any chance he got.

“It’s crazy that no one’s noticed ya Mike," Raph huffed as he swung over a gap between buildings, “with how much you mess around ya’d think we'dve gotten caught daily by now.”

“Oh you’re just jealous you don’t have my mad skills, dude” Mikey gloated, doing a front flip over the side of a ledge with a wink to prove his point.

The red banded turtle shook his head and smiled- as much as his brothers annoyed him, they were family, and he had to admit the guy had some serious acrobatic talent.

Not that he’d ever tell him to his face.

They arrived at a building overlooking an alley next to a dive bar, and saw two men entering the dark side street. Raph narrowed his eyes as he watched them, and froze when he saw their target.

A young woman leaned on the outside wall of the bar, clearly shaken and digging in her purse for something. In a moment the men were on her and she was knocked to the ground, gasping for air.

He jolted forward, but a firm hand on his arm signaled him to halt. It took everything in him to not rush down, but he knew better than to start a fight with Leo over “who the leader was” again.

He looked over to Leonardo, who eyed the scene for a moment before pointing to the nearest vantage point, and they made their way down to the alley.

As Raph moved, he watched the woman as the men spoke to her in hushed tones. Her hair was captivating and out of place in the dark alley, almost a copper halo of curls surrounding her face, and he couldn't help but stare as he climbed. 

Focus, gotta focus.

As they prepared to leap down into action, the woman did something that none of the turtles expected.

She broke one of the guys' noses and was running back to the street, yelling for help.

Raph almost smiled; this girl had some brass balls. She was in this life-or-death situation, and chose to fight her way out instead of cowering. 

“ Leo, we've got to get in there, but she’s too close to the street now. We’ll be seen.” Donnie looked down at the well-lit street and alley in front of them. There were cars passing by, but no pedestrians; so maybe she would get to the street so they could apprehend the men in the alley without her seeing them. 

“Yeah, Don. Just let me think for a minute.”

He was right.

They could not expose their family and risk their safety, but they also needed to uphold their oath to protect the citizens of this city.

It's their duty, as heroes of New York.

Leo huffed to himself and chewed at his lip as he kept his eyes focused on the scene in front of them. 

“Leo, we gotta get down there."

Raph was close to snapping. He watched in horror as the men caught up to her and took her down, beginning a fierce barrage of kicks to her chest.

“I ain't waitin’ Leo.”

Raph leapt off the building and landed behind the men, his brothers following suit. He figured he would have to answer for not following orders later, but he just couldn’t watch this happen.

His feet made a loud thud boom in the quiet darkness directly behind the men.

The woman was conscious but fading, and as Leo took the lead in trying to convince them to surrender quickly, Raph watched as the man that had a grip on her hair tightened it. She cried out in pain, a tear streaming down her face, and Raph lost all control he had over his anger. The guy said something to him, but he didn’t hear it.

Before he realized what he was doing, he was gripping the man’s throat in one hand and lifting him off the ground.

The prick was struggling and begging for his life, but all Raph could see was the beautiful woman on the ground, bruised and bleeding.

Mikey scooped her up in his arms, and Donnie began checking her vitals on his wrist scanner.

Raph could faintly hear Leo saying something, and it took a minute before he heard him clearly.

“Raph, put the guy down. Cops are enroute, and you’re going to kill him.”

He loosened his grip and let the unconscious male slip from his hands, slumping on the ground.

“Payback’s a bitch.” Raph chuckled darkly. Coming back to his senses, he felt a little guilty.

A little. 

“Donnie, is he dead?” Mikey's voice was steeped in worry as he poked his head over Raph's shoulder, the woman still cradled in his arms. 

The purple banded turtle looked over at the man before turning his attention back to the bigger problem at hand.

“No, just unconscious. She, however, is not doing well and will need medical treatment.”

Turning to Leo he commented as his fingers danced over his scanner, eyes scanning the digital displays, “I think they gave her some sort of drug. Her blood alcohol level is low, but she seems to be under the influence of something. I worry that a hospital would not know what to look for if we just dropped her off. I would be able to test and treat her in the lab- “

Donnie cut himself off as his monitor beeped.

“Her vitals are dropping, Leo. What’s your call?”

“Call Sensei and let him know we’re having company. Let’s move out boys.”

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

«SPELL-BOUND»   for the sender to use a spell to entrap the receiver.

"Oh, what a sweet, noble little thing you are." It's easy enough to make Butch move with the cuffs on his arms, a magical binding shackling him to the ones on his own wrists. The rest of Butch is bound in emerald thread, so he's restrained for the moment with glittering patterns across his form. The person dragging him along looks like Artair if he was rolled in dirt, had shoulder-length hair, and it lacked the usual gradient for just his yellow, with a few streaks of brown. That, and this body was healthy, filled out like he ate regular meals. But already, scales in a myriad of greens were beginning to grow in patches ion his skin, becoming more and more visible as his magical alterations began to fade and weaken. If anything he seemed stronger now, as he dragged Butch through a cavern opening.

"Your friend calls, and you come running. How...endearing." The saccharine voice pairs well with the too-wide smile, as they drag him further into the first chamber of the cavern. There's a bifurcation, and they turn right. "It's too bad. Really, you ought to have been more cautious, you are truly much too pretty to be dying this young."

The tunnel opens up from their downwards trek to a large open area, studded with countless stalagmites. Stalactites hang far above too, near the roof of the cavern. A circle of runes on the floor light an acidic green, ringing the perimeter of this large amphitheater. With a tingling thrum, the threads binding Butch are gone. Resonance yanks him a few feet further by the manacles before he can find his feet, letting out a laugh that's almost familiar as he forces him that last stumble. "But don't worry, I'm sure if you try so very hard you can make your escape. Go on, little cowboy, feel free to try."

CAPTURE MY MUSE! // @townofcadence

«SPELL-BOUND»   for the sender to use a spell to entrap the receiver.

Butch felt stupid, to say the least, for falling for such an obvious trap. The moment he thought he heard his friend in danger, he had sprung into action—only to find that it wasn’t his friend at all. In fact, he’s not sure what this thing was… but it sure resembled Artair in a few ways, albeit with a few notable differences that weren’t quite obvious from afar in the dimness of the night.

This wasn’t the first time he had been bound by magic and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, so he’s far from fearful—more so AGITATED by this unfortunate turn of events and even more so when the thing begins to taunt him as he’s dragged along off to god knows where. “Shut up.” Butch growls, struggling in his confines yet again despite knowing his attempts are futile.

Whatever this thing was, it had some sort of dark aura surrounding it—god, if only his senses were a bit sharper. Perhaps he could recognize what sort of magic this was, or what this being was in general and then he could ponder his escape with what advantages he might have had. Sadly, that had always been his old partners area of expertise. Fuck.

The cowboy makes sure to keep an eye on their surroundings, hoping that remembering the location in which they had traversed so far will assist him in some way when making his escape. If he even gets the chance, that is. He’s determined to free himself, he had been in rougher patches before—he’s sure of it! So there was really no need to panic, and he doesn’t… not until dying is mentioned, anyway.

His eyes go a little wide and a nervous laugh escapes him, and suddenly he’s much friendlier than he had been on the entire trek here. “Heyyyy now—let’s not talk like that! Heh—“ Butch swallows his disgust before continuing, “U-Uh… this… pretty lil’ thing can do other stuff too, y’know… y’don’t have t’kill me.” He tries, looking from his captor and then around himself as they enter a peculiar tunnel. What the…?

Then, he stops and Butch feels the threads binding him dissipate just before being thrown forcefully forward which indeed causes him to stumble, his tail whipping around as he tries to maintain some balance. He nearly trips but manages to catch his footing just in time, shooting a glare at the thing that had nearly knocked him over. That laugh is what really pisses him off… the fact that it sounded like Artair, it disgusted him. Among other feelings, he’s confused as to how and why exactly this is happening. Surely this guy knew Artair, right? It was no coincidence they shared scarily similar physical attributes, right? There was no telling at this point.

A growl rumbles in the back of his throat but he has to stop himself from saying anything he’ll regret; he’s in an awfully compromising situation after all. Maybe playing nice was the best course of action. It had gotten him out of many scrapes before. Gritting his teeth, he has to force a smile, scoffing loudly in response to the others mocking,

“Tch! Escape? Th’ fun’s jus’ gettin’ started, ain’t it? Y’brought me alllll th’ way out here,” He gestures around himself with his bound wrists, looking around as well before his eyes land back on Resonance, “…an’ y’want me t’ escape? Let’s have a lil’ fun first! Or ‘least make a game out’f it? C’mon, what d’ya say~?” His tone is playful now, free of any worry. He could put on a little show if it meant waiting for an open opportunity to escape.