#dear lord i haven't used these tags for so long

[aester]

A look at RT from a fellow digital media employee

Oof, so RT scandal am I right?

I haven't been in the fandom since ~2018 but following all of this (and specifically the alleged workplace conditions) I thought I'd throw in my two cents as someone who grew up idolizing the company, has chosen to go into digital media because of them and now works in the industry (thankfully not for them).

This will be a long boi (organized into a tumblr-friendly numbered list) based on what I know of the industry in the US, both my own experiences(all thoughts and opinions are my own) & what I've seen of my peers' experiences.

This is also useful info for those interested in pursuing a career in studio-based anim, vfx & game design fields.

To throw in my own cred, I was a member of the RT (and specifically AH & AH art) community from about 2014 to 2018, Monty's work inspired me to pursue my own interests in digital media in a professional sense. I went to uni with my dream internship/job being RT (thankfully that didn't come true). Since then I've graduated and got a job within the industry. So, thanks to having a pretty nice sample of recent grads joining the industry as well as doing my own research on wages and positions before graduation in prep I wanted to take a look at some of the claims and numbers I've been seeing mentioned in this whole mess.

None of this is in defense of RT or in contempt of the ex-employees. RT is a company. People deserve other people's support against a corporation.

Starting with the most quantifiable thing: ✨wages✨. Digital media encompasses a variety of fields - animation, gamedev, vfx, ux etc. & salaries will vary based on both the location and the field that the job is in. From what I've seen among my peers, the avg pay for an entry-level position is about 50-60k for non-LA Bay area jobs(for those add ~ extra 10k from the cost of living). This is not counting additional pay such as overtime, relocation, severance(although I don't know a single person in the field with this condition), or bonuses. Adjusting to what I know of Texas industry salaries, I'd put a good starting industry salary for Austin at 40-50k a year (~20-~25 an hour). Motion Graphics and editing usually pay a bit less than 3D anim positions so the pay could be 5-10k lower than that, which would fucking suck when it comes to cost of living but still doesn't reach the 20k mentioned by Kdin.(20-40k for an LA-based position is just disturbing). Remember that digital media is considered a specialized occupation and generally requires a bachelor's degree (doesn't mean you HAVE to have one) to enter a field so that should be reflected in the salary.

Now onto the most unfortunate part of the industry: overtime (OT) is an industry standard. Everyone joining the industry knows that going in (at least coming out of college). The difference here is that companies should be open about the expected OT/month. My employer for example (all thoughts and opinions are still my own btw) was very clear on how much OT I'd have per month before signing a contract and I am compensated for it. Usually, those who don't get OT comped get higher starting pay. VFX (especially compositing dept) has infamously horrible conditions with insane levels of un-comped OT, crunch, low job security, burnout, and low wages but that at least is an open secret.

Crunch is not just overtime, crunch is sustained OT that exceeds usual expectations. It is more prevalent in studios that have to answer to a client & haven't heard that much about crunch from anim houses now that I think about it? if someone has more experience with serialized anim prod & conditions i'd love to hear from a more reliable source.

To address people's concerns about why certain people(current employees) don't speak up I've seen people bring up NDAs.A Non Disclosure Agreement covers sensitive & internal data (both company secrets and personal identifiable info). An NDA break can be litigated so it's obvious employees don't want to break it. That wouldn't be what is stopping people rn, commenting on this situation would probably fall under some sort of employment guideline. Digital media companies often have extensive guidelines as to what an employee can and cannot say about the company, things that happen in the company, the employees of the company, and other things like this. Now, a breach of guidelines wouldn't be a legal issue, it would just be breaking the contract and be grounds to either have some sort of action against the employee or termination of the contract. It's understandable why folks don't want to lose their jobs for speaking up but the "trouble" they'd get in wouldn't be as big as THE COURT.

I saw someone (don't remember who because of how much info has been coming out) mention offhand RT promising assistance with a work visa & not delivering on the promise & I wanted to quickly bring that up because of my own experiences with this. What they're talking about here is an H-1B lottery application(yes in order to get a work visa in the US you need to win a lottery). This is a process in which the employer(!) petitions the gov't for a non-immigrant work visa for a prospective (or current because these fuckers expire & you have to do the whole lottery all over) employee. There is a lot of documentation, applications, and fees involved, which is why few companies undertake trying to hire international employees. Those who do are at the scale where they have their own immigration attorneys and the H-1B application process is outsourced to a separate law firm. Financially I don't know enough int'l employees to give a blanket statement, but for me, the H-1B application cost was covered by the company and was written into the contract. The records for what companies entered the H-1B lottery are available online & I think like 3 years ago I remember seeing RT having 2-3 applications total?

Union efforts. I don't have a single acquaintance who works under a union in the industry because no one is unionized. I'm not saying RT shouldn't unionize, but their issues seem so far beyond what I've seen at any other company that it's not even comparable to some digital media startups I've seen.

Lastly, I wanted to bring up something extremely subjective when it comes to the field. Any sort of decision of staying or leaving a production company relies on the people you work with, the creative fulfillment, and the stability of your position. Unfortunately, the industry is full of short-term gig positions & project-based contractors. The projects you work on won't be yours, the length of you having a stable income is always up in the air, while the industry is mostly located in the most expensive cities in the country. It's a tough one.

So tldr; the overall digital media field is not peachy with its work conditions but holly fuck what the fuck RT.

And remember kids:

If a potential employer promises something, make sure it's stated in your contract~ otherwise, the promise carries no weight.

Always negotiate the terms of employment! You might not get a higher starting salary but you might get a bonus or some other benefit!

If you want to earn a lot of money in digital media become a tech artist or a rigger.

[nebulousbrainsoup]

hey could i send a request for han jisung x readers enemies to lovers university au with the smut prompts 1 + 45 + 81(spoiled they get caught🤭) maybe with a party setting 🥰 thank you sm

prompts:

1. "I love it when you moan my name." || 45. "Just shut up and fuck me." || 81. "If we get caught, I'm blaming you."

Vehemently

fulfilled as part of my 150(ish) followers event.

PAIRING: han jisung x fem!reader GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, college au RATING: 18+ ; minors/ageless blogs dni TAGS/WARNINGS: ft. felix, hyunjin & lino, swearing, alcohol use, drug use, slight misunderstandings, sassy jisung & reader, quick edit, let me know if i missed anything! WORD COUNT: 3.7k SUMMARY: above! A/N: i haven't been able to stop thinking about this request since you sent it, but good LORD has this fic eluded me. i think i'm coming to the realization that i cannot be mean to any of the boys who are younger than me, even if it's only by a few months. but here you are, my dear, i hope the wait was worth it. have a full-length fic as an apology </3

smut tags/warnings under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: lil bit of hate sex, rough sex, dom-leaning jisung, sub-leaning reader, but they’re both switches to me, bratty behavior, biting, marking, brief oral (fem receiving), use of a condom, protected sex, piv, little bit of edging, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), getting caught; let me know if i missed anything, please!

Coming to this party was an awful idea. You’d known it when Felix had invited you, but he’d flashed those big brown eyes of his at you and you’d melted immediately. It was his birthday, after all, and you and Hyunjin were his best friends—it would be rude for you not to show, especially since your roommate had made it clear that he would be going. Though you were wary, you decided to give it the benefit of the doubt, with a promise from Hyunjin that he would stay by your side.

The second you’d walked through the door, though, Felix had wrapped you both up in hugs, and when you’d turned back around to find your roommate, he’d vanished. The same happened with Felix when you spun back around, and you were left alone in the entryway of a house you had never been to before. You sighed in defeat, resigning yourself to finding the kitchen alone. If you were going to be here, you may as well take advantage of the free liquor. 

You’d nearly finished mixing your drink when a familiar, loud laugh caught your attention, and a chill lit down your spine. Of course Changbin would be here, you reminded yourself. He’s one of Felix’s favorite people, after all, and just because he—and probably Chris, now that you thought about it—was here, it didn’t mean Han Jisung would be. You would be fine.

Lee Minho, on the other hand, was a more unexpected sight, and you nearly jumped out of your skin at finding the man staring at you, head tilted in confusion. He looked much like the black cat he was frequently compared to, and felt just as ill an omen. Sure, he and Felix were on the dance team together, but you had never known them to be close. Han and Minho on the other hand, had always been suspiciously so. 

You gave a tight smile, which he did not return, instead asking, “What are you doing here?”

You scrunched up your nose at him. “It’s… Felix’s birthday party? Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Realization, though you weren’t sure of what, dawned on his face. “Ah, of course, silly me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?” 

“It’s Felix’s birthday party,” he echoed, raising his plastic cup to you before turning to head out of the kitchen. “And Han’s, too.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you watched him nearly skip away, and you quickly downed your entire drink. If Hyunjin couldn’t get you out of here now, you were going to have a long night ahead of you.

By the time you finally found your roommate, you had already caught sight of Han twice. You were fuming quietly when you finally made your way out to the backyard, unsurprisingly finding Hyunjin with a joint in one hand and a cup in the other, laughing as he passed it on to Jeongin. His eyes flickered up to you as you approached, and he began to scoot over to make room for you in the circle.

“Sorry! I kind of forgot we were sticking together. You can—”

“Did you know this was Han’s party, too?” You cut in, hands on your hips. 

The circle went quiet, and Hyunjin tilted his head at you. “You… didn’t?”

“If I did, I probably wouldn’t have come.” You seethed, and he flushed, eyes dropping to the floor. When he didn’t reply, you huffed, crossing your arms and starting back for the house. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”

It wasn’t anything against Felix or Hyunjin; you simply hated Han Jisung. You’d shared a gen-ed course your first year here, and he was the first face that stuck out to you in the lecture hall. You hadn’t expected much when you finally gathered the nerve to approach him—maybe a hello, or a quick number exchange. Instead, he’d kept his head down, given you a disinterested half-glance over, and made his way to the door without a single word, leaving you standing awkwardly alone in the middle of the lecture hall. When you’d finally gotten to know him through your mutual friends—with some reluctance—you’d immediately found him loud and annoying, far too cocky for your tastes. Between the awful first impression and his inability to take anything, especially you, seriously, your hatred for him had bloomed quickly.

And now, here you were at his birthday party. You’d seen him, sure, but you’d be damned if you let him see you. You had appearances to keep up and a heart to keep intact. Resolving to find Felix before just ditching him, you made your way back into the roiling crowd in the living room. It was hard to see between or over the dancing bodies as you were jostled, trying fruitlessly to elbow your way through, and you quickly abandoned that plan of action. Sighing, you made your way back to the kitchen, hoping for a little peace to clear your scrambled mind.

No such luck would come, it seemed, as the moment you turned the corner into the kitchen, you slammed face-first into the very man you were trying to avoid. His own freshly made drink went down the front of both of you, and you huffed a sigh, biting the inside of your lip to keep the tears of frustration from spilling. This party was a stupid idea.

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

Before you could spiral into your abyss of self-loathing, his voice cut through your thoughts. 

“Fine,” you spat, “can’t say the same for my clothes, though.”

He frowned, irritation crossing his features at your attitude. “Look, sorry, but maybe you should watch where you’re going next time. I know you hate me, but take it easy on the booze, would you?” 

You rolled your eyes heartily, turning on your heel. Just as you were about to cross back into the living room, his hand latched around your wrist. “Wait!” He looked stunned as you turned around, swallowing thickly and giving you a once-over. “It’s kind of my fault, too, I wasn’t really… Let me grab you something to wear and I can dry your clothes or something.”

“It’s fine, I was heading out anyway.”

“It’s only been an hour. Felix wants you to at least stay til midnight, right? For his actual birthday? You and Hyunjin are like his best friends, come on. Don’t make him suffer just ‘cause you’re pissed at me.”

You scrunched up your nose and, not for the first time, Jisung thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. He never quite figured out why you hated him so much, but it was common knowledge between your mutual friends, and he played into it every chance he got. It was easier that way; he could put some distance between himself and his feelings for you. Whatever the reason may be, you absolutely despised him, and to see you here tonight was a complete surprise. He assumed you were here for Felix—everyone knew how close the two of you were; and the last thing he wanted to do was force you to leave the party because of his presence or clumsiness.

“Let me help. For him. Then I’ll stay out of your hair for the rest of the night.”

You sighed, but the way your shoulders slumped told Han he had won this battle. “Fine,” you muttered, tugging your wrist free of his grasp. “But it’s just for Lix.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he teased, grinning widely. As he squeezed past you, he took your hand, grip tightening as you tried to yank away from him. 

“Don’t want you to get lost in the fray, do we?” His cocky little smirk was still plastered on his face, and you rolled your eyes heartily, gesturing him forward.Although it had heat rising to your cheeks, you were thankful for Jisung’s hand in yours—though you were loath to admit it, he was right. You would have been swept away in the crowd within seconds if not for his firm grip. God, what you would do to have those hands elsewhere; he really was unfairly pretty. As he dragged you along, you got a lovely view of just how much he had filled out since that first day in the lecture hall—his shoulders having broadened and his biceps having thickened. Despite your front, you were just as head over heels for this man as you had been the day you laid eyes on him.

There were significantly fewer people upstairs, and you tugged your hand from his grip the moment you could, though with slightly less vehemence this time. He still shot a sideways glance back at you, a half-glare that held less heat than it had earlier. By the time you made it to his room, you were fighting to keep your façade up, replaying how quick he’d been to help you and how his hand felt in yours on a loop. It seemed both of you were struggling to hold onto your hatred. As you crossed the threshold into a space that, until this point, seemed both forbidden and tainted, you felt a shift in the air. 

His space was a lived-in amount of messy; there was a half-full Starbucks cup on his desk, clothes on the floor, and his bed was unmade. He didn’t touch the light switch by the door, instead picking up a remote, the lamps connected to it casting a warm glow over the room. It felt cozy, you thought, and immediately frowned. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking.

He turned to you, t-shirt and shorts in hand, holding them out for you to take. “You can change here. I’ll wait outside for your clothes… Unless you want help.”

He grinned, his grip on the pile of clothes in both of your hands unrelenting, using your tugging on them as an excuse to crowd into your space. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Jisung?” you hissed back.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind putting you in your place,” he practically purred, his free hand shifting to hover over your waist. “See if you still hate me so much when I’ve got you under me.” 

“As if your mediocre dick game could change my mind.” You weren’t sure if it was just the alcohol talking, but suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to test this theory.

His jaw set and his eyes narrowed, leaving a very different version of Han Jisung in front of you than you were used to. “I’ll show you mediocre,” he hissed, releasing his hold on his clothes and shoving you back toward his bed. “It’ll be anyone else you’ve had or will have.”

“What the fuck ever.” You rolled your eyes, letting his clean clothes drop to the floor, reaching up to grab his shirt and tug him toward you. “If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” you muttered, dragging him against you and crashing your lips together.

You felt him grin against you and you sank your teeth into his lower lip, pulling a quiet hiss from him. One of his hands snapped up, fisting into your hair to yank you back. The look on his face was one you wanted to either slap or kiss off of him; the line was too blurred now to tell which.

“Like it a little rough, do we?” He prodded, both his hands dropping to the hem of your shirt. He tugged it over your head in one fluid motion, your bra quickly joining it over his shoulder. He straightened back up, licking his lips hungrily as he took the opportunity to drink you in. “Wonder if I can still taste my drink…” he mused, quickly pressing you back against the mattress to latch his lips to your chest.

You groaned, half in frustration and half from pleasure. “Do you ever stop talking?”

He sunk his teeth into your breast sharply at your jab, a surprised squeak leaving you at the feeling. Almost immediately, he was releasing you and soothing the sting with his lips and tongue, no doubt attempting to leave behind a mark that, even if it weren’t visible, would be felt tomorrow. You let a quiet groan pass your lips, and Jisung pulled back with a quiet pop to grin at you.

“Still hate me?”

“Vehemently.”

He clicked his tongue. “Looks like I need to try harder, then.”

In a feat of strength you weren’t aware he was capable of, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you, tossing you further onto the bed. You gasped, catching yourself on your elbows as he joined you, making quick work of the button and zipper of your shorts. With a swift tug, he’d pulled them down to your ankles and, with your help, they joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

Suddenly aware of the disparity between yours and Jisung’s clothing, you sat up, hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt so you could bunch it up under his arms. “Off,” you demanded, and he quickly complied, tugging it over his head.

Before you could say another word or pull at his shorts, he slipped back down your body, his lips trailing wet warmth down your torso. The moment he reached the waistband of your underwear, he paused, gazing up at you through his lashes. “You’re sure about this?”

For the first time that night, he seemed unsure. His doe eyes were wide and open, an honesty behind them that the two of you didn’t usually share. It made your stomach twist and your heart skip a beat, and you nodded. 

“I thought you had something to prove,” you muttered in an attempt to ignore the tangle of feelings in your chest, tugging him down toward your core.

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your clothed heat before tugging your panties off. The moment they were gone, he was back between your legs, licking a fat stripe up over your folds before his lips attached themselves to your clit. You whined, high-pitched and heady, and he smirked up at you, pressing a kiss to your clit. “Like that, huh?” 

Your jaw clenched and you sighed heavily through your nose, your grip in his hair tightening until he winced. “Han Jisung, I swear if you don’t… Just shut up and fuck me or put your mouth to better use.”

“Your wish is my command,” he muttered as he pushed himself back up your body, your lips meeting again in a messy kiss. 

He pulled back before you did, wincing again as you tried to tug him back to you, both of you fumbling with his jeans. “Gotta let me up, baby,” he murmured between kisses. He was clinging just as desperately as you were, his lips barely parting from your own. “Condoms are in my desk.”

You huffed, annoyed, and flopped back against the mattress, releasing his scalp from your death grip. The sound pulled a quiet chuckle from him as he stood, finally unbuttoning his pants and darting across the small room to his desk drawer. He shucked both his pants and boxers to the floor as he made his way back, and it was everything you could do not to gawk, open-mouthed, at how unbelievably pretty he was. The arms you’d noticed earlier were only the beginning, apparently—his toned stomach and legs matching them perfectly in a stunning contrast to his round face. Fuck, even his cock was pretty, flushed and leaking as he rolled the condom over it. The last shred of your pride was the only thing keeping you from begging to wrap your lips around him first.

“Like what you see?” He broke the silence, and the self-satisfied look on his face told you he had most definitely caught you staring. 

“Keep running your mouth and I’ll leave you like this.”

The panic-stricken look that flashed in his eyes had you biting back laughter, but it was quickly replaced by something darker as he caught the grin on your face. He glared at you as he settled between your legs again, ducking down once more to suck hard on your clit.

“J-Jisung!” you gasped, hand snapping down to card into his hair again. The tight circles his tongue drew over the little bundle of nerves had pleasure rocketing up your spine, your entire body tensing with the sudden onslaught. As suddenly as that had begun, the stimulation shifted, his tongue darting between your folds to taste you, and you whined out his name once more. He groaned against you, giving your clit another harsh suck—one that nearly brought you over the edge—before he sat back on his heels again.

“Fuck, I love it when you moan my name,” he sighed, caging you in below him as he lined himself up with your entrance. “It sounds a lot prettier than all those nasty, empty threats.”

“Han,” you sighed, hips rolling toward his own.

He frowned disapprovingly and shifted his hips back, the hand that had been guiding his cock now pressing your hips into the mattress. “Not like that, sweetheart, c’mon. Say it right.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to quit talking?” you huffed, grabbing at his hips.

“Or put my mouth to better use, and I think at least one of those requests has been fulfilled.” 

The grin on his face was wide and you were once again hit with the urge to wipe it off his face. The surge of rage lasted only a moment, though, before he was teasing at your hole again and your breath caught in your throat. You melted under him, hand sliding up from his hips to grip at his shoulders.

“Jisung,” you breathed, hips rolling forward again. 

This time, you saw his shaky inhale as he did the same, quiet, broken sounds leaving you both as he finally filled you. He swallowed thickly, head tucking into your neck to pepper light kisses against your skin as he bottomed out, giving you both time to adjust. He was bigger than you’d expected, just thick enough to provide a pleasant stretch. You hummed, eyes slipping shut, and ground your hips against his.

“You have something to prove, don’t you, pretty boy?” You muttered against the shell of his ear, and you felt his shoulders shake with the chuckle that left him. “Fuck me like you hate me, Han Jisung.”

He propped himself up as his hips rolled back, the hand not bracing him wrapping around your back to lift your hips from the mattress. As his lips twitched up into a smirk, he slammed back into you, settling immediately into a ruthless pace. You managed to choke back the shout that left you halfway through it, nails sinking into his back as your jaw dropped open. Strained, needy sounds were punched out of you with every snap of his hips, matched by his own pants and groans as you scratched down his back. 

“This what you wanted?” he ground out, eyes narrowing when you gave no response. “Wanted me to—to fuck you stupid? Can’t even—mmph!”

You cut him off with your lips, swallowing his next deep groan and muffling your own squeak as he picked up his pace. The kiss devolved quickly into little more than sharing air, your bodies pressed tightly together as you chased your highs. One of your hands shifted from his shoulder, snaking between the two of you to rub at your cli and Jisung shifted as you did, pausing his rhythm to sit back on his heels and drag you with him. When he resumed his pace, the new angle had you crying out, your free hand fisting into the sheets and your eyes rolling back in your head. Distantly, you thought you heard him huff a laugh, but you were too far gone to care.

You were falling over the peak of your pleasure in moments, his name falling from your lips one last time. The sight of you alone, skin sweat-slicked and back arched in pleasure, was enough to bring Jisung to the edge of his own orgasm, and the sound of your voice sent him careening over it. He pulled your hips flush with his own and let his head fall back, basking in the feeling of your walls pulsing around him as he spilled into the condom. Both of you stilled, your eyes closed and only the sound of your shaky breathing filling the room as the weight of reality prodded at the edges of your foggy mind. You could stay suspended in this little fantasy for a moment longer, you decided.

Or, you would have, if not for the rapping at the door. You and Jisung shared a look of panic and scrambled apart, both grabbing for the top blanket on his bed as the door cracked open. Your stomach sank as Felix’s voice met your ears, his blue head of hair peeking around the corner.

“It’s almost midnight, dude, what are you—oh!”

You locked eyes with your best friend before you could pull the covers over your head, and heat immediately rushed to your face. Slowly, you sank underneath them anyway, unwilling to meet his gaze any longer.

He snapped back around it nearly immediately, pressing his back to the door as he finished. “Uh, nevermind! Midnight is soon, we had that, uh… thing planned, but… I’m gonna head back down, you two have fun!”

As the door snapped shut behind him, the silence that fell over you and Jisung felt heavy, and you just as slowly crept out from under the blankets. Meeting his eyes, you saw the same confusion you felt reflected in his stare. His eyes flickered rapidly over your face as he gnawed at his lower lip, searching for something, though you had no idea what.

“Still hate me?” He muttered, nearly immediately moving to discard the condom, busying himself to avoid meeting your gaze.

Your voice was shaky, the heat absent from it as you replied, “Vehemently.”

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© July 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[thedivinershiddenarchive]

idk how many incest-related or yandere requests you're getting but. okay hear me out for a moment. "healing" sex with big brother yan!tartaglia and mute!reader.

i say "healing" in quotations because he's not only manipulating her, into doing this, but he made a move the moment she's at a very vulnerable state (remembering her past). he's so good with his words that he fully convinces her that he'll "protect" her, that this will give some form of "closure." don't get me wrong he cares deeply about his step-sister ofc, but good lord the way he expresses it.

probably takes advantage of her (like praising her ig) just to let her trust him more so he can have her all for himself. he doesn't directly say it, but he makes sure she knows she belongs to him, whether she likes it or not. in this case, she probably does?? ig?? (it doesnt have to be mute!reader btw, if you want to change it to a different reader then go for it)

[Most likely referenced to Secrets can be kept in Snow]

cw. st3pc3st, yandere!childe x mute!fem!reader, possesive and manipulative AND unhealthy behavior, (reader's) family trauma, d4cryphili4, marking/h1ck3ys, usage of "princess", usage of childe's real name, arguments (childe's father & reader's mother), childe is s4distic

a/n. sorry yall, there are too much full fic requests and i'm extremely unmotivated so i'm gonna be doing thirsts.. idek if i call these thirsts bcus they're so goddang long for some reason.

masterlist | tag system | 17- & MASC-ALIGNED PLEASE DNI! THIS IS ONLY FOR FEMALE AUDIENCES.

I can see how manipulative he can be when it's in his POV rather than yours. Childe's wit most likely improved after he trained to become a Harbinger. Don't misunderstand him; he was initially protective of you because you couldn't defend yourself through talking or fighting. You weren't that type of person. He was.

Let's say, you haven't fully healed yet after your first time. You still cling onto him like a leech, the arguments your mother and Childe's father get into are not often but they happen and they remind you of your past. He wanted to help you so you let him, let him do whatever he wants to heal your trauma and you don't think twice about it. Why would you when he's being so sweet and helpful?

He'd do it with you many times, saying it was part of the process. You would trust his words blindly, never knowing his true intentions with you. His sweet praises on how good of a girl you are for him and how you're taking him so well while you sit on his lap and whimpering at the feeling of him stretching you out. You felt so good around him he couldn't help hugging you tightly and whispering for you to stay quiet. Ajax knows you feel good but you can't risk the two of you being caught.

We can also see how much our dear stepbrother becomes really posessive over you too. You're pretty easy to persuade and it isn't hard for Ajax to eliminate any other men in your life that could try to steal you away from him. Of course, not a lot of people know about the eleventh harbinger's family so he could easily take you out to places and act all affectionate. The two of you look nothing alike so it wasn't a problem to act like a couple.

Your cries and sounds, they're the reasons why he's still alive in the first place. Your whining as he fills you to the brim. It was those nights again where he'd visit your room for the healing process. Where he'll go gentle with you and sing praises into your ears when you get emotional from it. He knows how much this reminds you of your past and he does his best to comfort you (to get you to trust him more).

The process would include a lot of foreplay, Childe knows you're not used to his touches yet since they make you feel weird. Especially when they get intimate but you try and be brave for him. Taking the kisses he gives you on your neck and chest, his fingers tickling your clothed cunt.

And once he's inside of your sweet pussy, oh his touches just get even better (and physical). His hand carefully pulling your head back to mark your neck all over, don't worry, he'll make sure to have his scarf around you and tell the others that you were feeling too cold and that he was more than capable of taking care of you so they won't know about the hickeys.

Childe's love for you is genuine and everlasting, he wouldn't go rough on you if you didn't ask for it. Hell, you've been giving him everything he ever wanted and you're behaving well. It wouldn't be fair if he didn't do the same. He promises to make you feel good, make you feel safe. And he doesn't break his promises.

"Ah," he'll moan into your ear, "Feel so good, princess. J-just like that, fuck.." he groans, hugging you tightly, his face into your neck and sniffing your scent. Your gasps can be heard inside the room as well as the slapping of skin, "Doing so good for me, yeah? Being a good girl for me?" Ajax growls, biting into your skin lightly. You only sobbed, limping onto him. Tonight, you heard your mother's arguments towards Ajax's father and it was about you. Ajax knows how that makes you weak, especially when the arguments get physical or violent but that never happens, his father was a reasonable man and so was Ajax. He didn't blame you for being emotional so he wanted to comfort you.

Your parents' shouts are as loud as ever but he was making sure you didn't hear it by soughing into your ears, just not loud enough to deafen the whole thing. Your vulnerable state was the reason he could have you to himself to care for in the first place. "It's alright, darling. Nothing's gonna hurt you and if there is, they're gonna have to get through me first.." he chuckles, pulling your body closer to his.

Your pretty moans and sounds, they get him going as well as your tears. He'd lick them away and savor your face as you turn into a sobbing, hiccuping mess on him. Ajax doesn't like seeing you sad, especially if it isn't in this kind of way. Even after the healing process has finished, he'd ask for another round. Saying he felt unsatisfied and that it wasn't enough to comfort you. You just let yourself go and concede into his embrace as you just let him do what he wants with you. You don't know better but that's fine, he says. He can handle it.

© notsodivininglover 2023. reposting, plagiarizing, translating or claiming my works are strictly forbiddened.

[akashis-waifu]

An Eternity of Mind Games with You (Aizen Sousuke x Reader)

Canon-divergence one-shot, set years after TBYW. Female reader is the Soul King, so is Aizen if you squint hard enough. Your first name is "Hana" for plot-purposes.

Tags: Domestic!Aizen with usual sass, wholesome, fluff, cringe but we embrace it. Immortal x immortal, enemies struggling with new established co-dependency. This might seem slightly out of character, but we've got Kyoka Suigetsu to blame. Contains spoilers on the ending of TBYW and CFYOW!

"Oh please, dear wife."

You raise an eyebrow at your self-proclaimed husband. The two of you have only been together for a decade as Lord and retainer — co-rulers, if you squint hard enough — after Aizen Sousuke tricked you into absorbing the Hougyoku, which apparently had long merged with his spirit. In effect, the man became a part of the Soul King and is now able to use your authority, as long as you agree to it.

In return, you get to wield one of the greatest Zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu. You see it as an absolute win, the Central 46 doesn't.

As to why Aizen insists that you two are husband and wife, he argues that "A system where a man and a woman govern together is called monarchy. And it goes without saying that a King and a Queen are married." He seems to have put the cart before the horse, a very uncharacteristic blunder for the renowned war criminal. You simply guess that the fusion might have caused him brain damage.

"I swear, I haven't used Kyoka Suigetsu for a long time. There is literally no reason for you to act delusional."

He feigns to be hurt at your words. "You are the king, I am the queen. How can we not be married?"

"It's crazy how you easily admit to being the queen now." During your ascension, you had to repeatedly remind him that the Soul King was you. If he insisted on his god-complex-driven monarchy delusion, the Queen would be him.

Aizen shrugs. "As the human saying goes, let me cook."

Chills run down your spine. Something is wrong. "Maybe I'm the delusional one."

"Took you a long time to realize."

A shattering sound awakens you. After adjusting to reality, you glare at Aizen Sousuke who has successfully swiped the two Heavenly Tickets out of your hand.

"Please stop using Kyoka Suigetsu on me."

He chuckles mockingly. "You have a funny mind, I can't help it."

You try to take the tickets from him. Those are your mode of transportation to Seireitei! "It's Rukia's inauguration today. We really need to go!"

"You can go by yourself."

"I can't leave you here alone!"

Aizen smiles. He knows that it is a matter of distrust — that he might destroy the Soul Palace in your absence — but teases you nonetheless. "What a caring wife you are."

"Is the illusion not over yet?"

"My apologies. I'm simply not in the mood to head to Seireitei today," he explains briefly, before turning around. "Feel free to go without me."

You watch with curious eyes as Aizen leaves the room. He has undoubtedly mellowed out compared to 10 years ago. Memories flash through your mind.

At the end of the war, you were supposed to absorb Yhwach, become the Soul King, and be sacrificed as the new linchpin of the Three Realms. If Aizen hadn't given you the Hougyoku that granted your divinity as the Soul King, you wouldn't have gained the authority to banish Hyosube Ichibe.

If it weren't for Aizen, you would've been mutilated into a thoughtless doll. You may not express it, but you are eternally grateful to him.

Standing at the edge of the Soul Palace, you stare at the boundless sky below. It is almost time for your departure.

"He tells me to go by myself, but he knows I hate jumping all the way down to Soul Society. He could have at least returned my ticket to me." You sigh and jump anyway.

Upon arriving at Seireitei, you use Kyoka Suigetsu to disguise yourself as a white butterfly. You dispel the Shikai after reaching the 13th Division.

"Hana-san! Ah, I mean, Soul King!" Kuchiki Rukia hastily corrects herself. She then invites you to a celebratory dinner and you spend some time with the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.

The party ends late. Rukia offers the Kuchiki residence for you to spend the night in, but you decline, worried that someone might wreak havoc in your palace if left alone for too long.

She suggests to escort you to Shiba Kuukaku's hideout, aware that you would need the cannon to return to the Soul Palace. Still, you refuse, "No no! No need. It's already late, Rukia, go to sleep. I usually disguise myself as a harmless butterfly when I go around Seireitei to avoid unnecessary attention. Don't worry!"

On the way to the hideout, you feel that you're being followed. You instantly regret declining her offer.

When Aizen finds you in the middle of Seireitei, you are already bleeding from a large cut on your torso. He rushes to your side and activates the Hougyoku to accelerate your healing. As if to laud his effort, you soon regain consciousness.

"Aizen...?" you ask, vision still blurry. "What are you doing here? I... I thought you didn't want to go."

"You're not adept at using Kyoka Suigetsu yet. An incident like this is bound to happen."

"I see," you chuckle weakly. "No wonder she saw through my disguise."

His grip on your shoulder tightens. "Who was it?"

"Candace."

"Candace?"

You cough out blood multiple times and reach out to caress his cheek, as if ready to utter your last words — which would be if he doesn't take the joke lightly.

"Can deez nuts."

Aizen deadpans. A shattering sound takes him out of his reverie, and he looks over his shoulder to see you fiddling with the tickets that he had previously hidden in his sleeves.

Of course, the whole farce was an illusion. He should've known since the Hougyoku grants instant regeneration. He sighs in annoyance. "I'd like to take the Hougyoku back. You're too insufferable."

"Is that a request for divorce?"

He smirks. "So, you acknowledge our marriage."

"Hell no!" You click your tongue, frustrated that he always has the perfect comebacks. "Can't you act normal for once? What happened to Aizen Sousuke, the war criminal?"

"You prefer that version of me?" He pushes his hair back. You aren't used to that sight since he always has his hair down when you're alone together.

You visibly cringe. "Stop doing that. What would you do if people recognized you?"

"We're using Kyoka Suigetsu. From their perspective, we are nothing but butterflies attracted to beautiful flowers basking in the moonlight."

You frown at him. "We're literally walking on concrete. Not a single flower can be found here."

"There is."

Aizen raises your chin, staring directly into your eyes. "Hana."

Too stunned to speak, you allow yourself a moment to think.

You finally understand why Aizen was so popular when he was still with the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. His strength, intellect, charisma — the sultry voice and handsome features that you will never admit to his face — he used everything at his disposal to manipulate everyone.

It will never work on you, though. Not today, nor in a million years.

You are good, he is evil. You are yang, he is yin.

You are pure, he is corrupted.

The Soul King can never let Aizen Sousuke dye Her in his color, for that would mean the end of the Three Realms.

You give him a thin smile. "Would you like the Hougyoku back? I can hand it to you now."

"Oh, you jest." Aizen feels the sudden shift in mood and lets you go. That's enough teasing, he muses to himself.

With an eternity to look forward to, he doesn't mind biding his time. You are the Soul King, the strongest, most benevolent, and most dangerous being in the Three Realms. It goes without saying that you are the greatest challenge he will ever face. It could take hundreds or thousands of years — even millions — but he knows that you will submit to him one day.

It's not a matter of if, but when.

You extend a hand at him. "Let's go home, Sousuke."

But, he has to make sure you don't win him over first.

[icybluepenguin]

Lights in the Dark

Author's Note: I haven't written anything in a long time. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it. I'm going to try to do it more! First time writing for Baldur's Gate, this is for the BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge, based on the "twinkling lights" prompt.

Summary: Astarion doesn't like the guy you're dancing with (and neither do you) so he whisks you away to show you something special instead. On AO3 here

Pairing: Astarion x gender neutral Tav/reader

Tags/Warnings: a bit of jealous Astarion, more than a bit of fluff, SFW/rated T, word count 1,300. Canon-typical talk about stabbing. Probably not accurate title usage :)

-

The dance was fast, a newer one that you weren't as familiar with.  It involved the leader holding the other's waist with one hand as the pair rotated and traveled the steps, and it gave more opportunity than you liked for someone's hand to drift too far down. 

Which is exactly what you felt Lord Brandir Antalme attempting as he spun you around the dance floor. You cleared your throat loudly, tightening your grip on his shoulder until he winced and returned his hand to the proper position for the dance. 

As soon as the music stopped, you rushed through your bows, waving off his attempts to coax you into another dance.  One near-groping from a boring lord was enough, thank you.  But this was a fancy party and you weren't going to make a scene and cause trouble for Wyll.  Yet. 

Brandir followed you away from the dancing, taking two goblets of wine from a server's tray.  You took the one he offered you– why not, you were going to need something to take the edge off his company if he was going to stick to you.   The man would not stop talking about building contracts.  You raised it to your lips. 

A pale hand, wrist practically dripping with lace, snagged the goblet from you before you could even take a sip, 

“There you are, darling.” Astarion took a taste of your wine.  “I lost track of you.”  His tone was light, but his eyes were hard, staring at Brandir. 

Someone had to have manners in this situation and it clearly wasn't going to be Astarion.  “Astarion, this is Lord Brandir Antalme.  Brandir, Astarion Acunin.”   

“Ah, Saer Acunin!” Brandir gushed with courtly enthusiasm.  “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Don't believe everything you hear,” Astarion said.  His voice lowered dangerously, even as his smile remained polite.  “I'm much worse.”

Brandir giggled, his eyes widening, and turned his attention back to you– the apparently safe choice.  While your outfit had a high collar, as did Astarion's, to cover both of your bite marks, it still showed a good amount of skin elsewhere.  Which Brandir was enjoying without much subtlety. 

“You were an excellent partner, my dear.  Perhaps another dance,” he glanced at Astarion holding your cup, “since you are finished with your drink?”  Brandir gave a half bow and held out his hand to you. 

“That was a dance?” Astarion laughed, high and sharp. “I thought Tav was just keeping you from falling on your face.”

“Um, I think I will get some refreshments, that dance was a bit fast for me.  Thank you, though, my lord.  Excuse us.”  You grabbed Astarion's sleeve and dragged him with you towards the tables laid out with an incredible variety of decadent treats.

“That is one of the richest people in Baldur's Gate. And you want to be on his bad side?” 

“Oh, I know who he is.  And if he looks at you like that one more time,” he growled, “I'll rip his throat out.”  Turning so only you could see, he bared his fangs. 

You put your hands on your hips, exasperated.  “It was just a dance.”

“He tried to touch your ass, darling, I think he was after a bit more than ‘just a dance.’”

“If he'd made it that far, I would have removed his hand.”

“Oh but it's so much more fun if you let me do that for you,” he said with a bloodthirsty smirk. 

“Hm.”  You examined his face– the glint in his eyes, the curl of his lip, the general air of satisfaction.  “I think you like being jealous.”

“I have no idea what you might be talking about.” 

“You helped Wyll decide the guest list. You picked my outfit for tonight.  You insisted I wear this jewelry.”

“Do you have a point with this?” he asked airily, taking an elegant sip of wine.  “Or are you just talking to hear your own voice?  Not that I don't love your voice.” 

You narrow your eyes at him.  “I'm saying you knew exactly who would be here and exactly how they would react.  Hells, you probably planned the dances as well.”  You stepped closer to him, crowding his space.  “All so you could play the jealous lover.  It's been years, aren't you tired of that game yet?”

Astarion leaned towards you, seeming to have a quick retort ready for you, but then he straightened.  “Oh Hells, here comes Lady Steelstalker.  She won't even ask you to dance before grabbing your ass.  Come with me.”  With an arm around your waist, he hurried you out of the ballroom. 

He led you up and up until you were entirely lost and fairly out of breath, but he assured you he knew where he was going.  He opened a heavy wooden door at the top of more stairs with a flourish. 

You walked out onto a parapet, overlooking the entire city.  “Oh,” you gasped, delighted at the view.  You stepped up to the crenelation, shivering from the frigid air. 

Astarion wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest.  He wasn't much warmer than the air, but he blocked the breeze, which helped. 

“Look at the lights!”  Everywhere you looked, colorful holiday lamps shone in windows and hung between buildings on looping ropes.  Luminarias glowed on the streets and balconies.  

The lights decorating the rich houses nearby were crisp and clear.  Farther in the distance, all you could see was little soft dots blurring together, scatters of joy in the black. 

The night was so dark but the city was full of light and color, a magic landscape. 

The music from the ballroom drifted up, faint and ethereal.  Astarion swayed gently to the sound and you put your hands over his on your stomach.  

You had seen many, many sorts of nights with Astarion since he lost the ability to walk in the sun, but this was one of the most beautiful. 

“My city,” he sighed. “I love exploring the world with you, darling, but I always feel most at home here.”

You tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up.  The stars glittered sharply in the way they only did on very cold, clear winter nights.  You thought they would cut you, if you could touch them. 

But you could touch your own cold, sharp star, you thought with a smile.  Strong and solid behind you, holding you like he'd never let go.  He buried his nose in your neck and you reached up and back to tangle your fingers in the curls at his nape. 

“I'll never tire of it,” he said against your skin.  “I get such a thrill when I get to show the world that you chose me.  You are the best thing that ever happened to me and no matter how many years pass, I'll still be shooing away anyone who looks at you too long.  I love proving that you are mine.”  You feel his smile.  

You turned in his arms, draping your own around his neck.  “And you're mine.”  You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, icy against your lips.  

“Maybe someday you'll finally let me stab a few of them a little.”

“Just a little?” you giggled. 

“Jealous and covered in blood is quite a good look for me.”

“Oh, absolutely it is.” 

“We should go inside, you must be freezing.”

You wiggled around to look back over the city, filled with peace and hope.  So many families, so many people of every race joining in to spread brightness in the darkest time of the year.  So much love filled your heart, for the people, for the city you'd saved, and especially for the man behind you who had worked so hard to stay with you through his pain. 

“Just a little longer, love.  Our city looks so beautiful."

-

Master Post

[reggieblk]

i have NO idea which ones you’ve already answered ajdkshshdhdj but for the WIP game i would like to humbly inquire about the heart of the sea if you haven’t posted about it already 🙏🙏🙏

omg i am SO SORRY for the time it took for me to answer this ask!! work has been kicking my ass lol but thank you so much for asking! I'd be happy to talk about it <3

the heart of the sea is my pirate AU! The premise is that Harry is a pirate captain, and Tom is the Crown Prince of England; it's written from their dual POV. They meet when Harry is brought before Tom to be sentenced to death for his crimes and it's very much -- if not love, then -- obsession at first sight.

It includes a chase, a lot of found family, and I'd say it's a fast burn.

I haven't touched this one in a while despite having the plot entirely plotted out, but it's one of those wips where the initial idea is good but the execution is mediocre, so it could benefit from a rewrite at some point!

Here's a snippet I posted for a tag game a while ago of their first meeting : link

Here's a snippet from the chase portion of the fic as well :

They all broke off into groups, Harry going off on his own. When he left for the village, the Prince’s ship had been stationed further down the pier from theirs, devoid of any crewmates from the looks of it. He’d tried to get a better look, remaining discreet to avoid his own crewmates' merciless teasing, but he hadn’t seen anyone. 

So, maybe wandering off on his own was a decision made with the intent of catching a glimpse of the pretty Prince, no one had to know anyhow. 

He thought he’d go and give Suzie a visit, having not seen her in a couple of years. 

Walking into the bar though, he saw him. Leaning against the bar was the Prince, wearing distinctively pirate-esque attire, looking absolutely dashing. Harry’s heart rate spiked as he hovered in the doorway. He looked at the people hovering around the Prince but none were paying him any mind, too busy listening to the exchange between the Prince and the barmaid. 

Harry walked forward discreetly, leaning against a beam some feet away from the Prince. 

“A hundred doubloons,” Suzie was saying and Harry bit his cheek to not laugh, “that’s me last word.”

The Prince scoffed. “A hundred?” he repeated, fingers clenching against the wood.

“A bit much don’t you think, Suzie?” Harry interjected, advancing and leaning against the bar next to the Prince. He relished in everyone’s attention snapping to him, the Prince’s jaw dropping. 

“Harry Potter!” Suzie exclaimed, eyes wide. “My, I haven’t seen you in a while dear.”

“Aye,” Harry said, tearing his gaze away from the Prince, an amused grin on his features, “too long my darlin’, give us the usual, yeah?”

She nodded, smiling lightly, a pink blush decorating her cheeks.

“You!” a blonde man spat next to the Prince.

“You know this lot, Harry?” Suzie asked, setting a glass of rum in front of him. 

Harry grinned, turning to the Prince who looked shocked. “You could say that, now, how much do I owe you for this, love? Not a hundred I hope.”

Suzie shook her head, smiling. “Only one for that, although,” she added, leaning against the bar suggestively, “my offer still stands if you want it for free.”

Harry smiled warmly, turning back to her. “Aye you know me Suzie…”

She waved a hand in the air, masking her disappointment. “Married to the sea, I know, I know.”

“You know Suzie, lately I’ve been thinking I wouldn't mind a Prince,” he grinned, eyeing the man next to him who was still frozen in shock.

Suzie laughed. “A Prince? Good Lord, and where will you find yourself a Prince?”

Harry angled himself towards Tom, downing the last of his glass and smirking, watching as Tom’s eyes roamed over him. “Not far, I’m sure,” he murmured.

So suddenly Harry would have had no chance of expecting it, a dagger was at his throat and the Prince was pressing him into the bar, pressing the blade into his neck. Harry only grinned. The bar went silent, everyone stilling at the commotion. 

“Kill me here Tom and they’ll have your head on a stick before you can appreciate my death,” Harry murmured, holding the Prince’s waist in a bold move.

“You have something of mine,” the Prince sniped, digging the blade further into Harry’s throat. He’d never been more excited in his life. He made a delightful sight, eyes bright with adrenaline, cheeks flushed with anger, hands firm but delicate where he held onto Harry. 

“You’ve come a long way for a ring, love,” Harry murmured, looking up at the Prince through his eyelashes, relishing every reaction he got; his eyes flashing in anger, the blade digging further into his skin. Harry pinched his waist, just to see what would happen. His grin brightened as the Prince leant further into him. 

“I didn’t come for the ring,” the Prince spat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to slit Harry’s throat. 

“Another kiss then?” Harry asked cheekily, cocking his head to the side and licking his lips. He didn’t miss the way the Prince’s eyes flicked downwards, following the motion. 

“Harry, my boy! You seem to be in quite the predicament!”

Harry closed his eyes, groaning, clenching his jaw in annoyance.

Of course Dumbledore would ruin the best moment of his life.

“I’m busy old man!” he called, opening his eyes again. “You can just fuck off.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised, a faint look of amusement passing over him. Harry smiled at him, rolling his eyes, as if they were sharing a funny joke. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Harry asked, turning his full attention back to Tom, hoping he was coming off as charming.

Tom scoffed. “You realise I’m going to kill you?” He made the sentiment clear by digging the blade further into Harry’s throat. 

Harry sighed before flipping their positions in a swift movement. The Prince’s eyes were wide as he was pressed into the bar. He attempted to fight back immediately but Harry only pressed his own knife into his throat, draping himself over the Prince in a way that was anything but appropriate.

“You know darlin’, it’s not that easy to kill me, a fair few people have had a go at it,” he said, smiling down at the Prince. Harry leant back, keeping the dagger in place, and took Tom’s left hand in his. He smiled, warmth blossoming in his chest. “My needle,” he murmured, passing a thumb over the thin band. 

The Prince hung his head back, baring his throat, and snatched his hand back. “I hate you,” he said through clenched teeth.

[windsweptinred]

Hey, had this image of Morpheus as a massive Raven hovering in the air behind Daniel in my head and thought you would maybe like it as well. Maybe I'll draw it one day but until then I've written it. Hope you enjoy this :)

The dark entity rises in front of Dream while he watches with neither anger nor fear only a hint of curiosity on his fine boyish features.

"Now Dreamlord what shall I do to you, after I’ve slayed your oh so loyal pet?" The entity gestures dismissively to the bloody body of the Corinthian lying on the ground. "You are just a child after all nothing like your predecessor. Not even worse a challenge, letting others fight your fights."

Dream’s lips twitch. "I apologize for the transgressions of my nightmare, he is sometimes a bit overeager." A short glance to the side confirms that said nightmare is already getting up again while cursing quite colorfully under his breath. "But if you rather want to measure yourself with my predecessor than me I can certainly ask him if he would be willing to do so. But I should warn you he won't be in the best mood. As far as I know, he had a date planned for this evening."

"What?" The entity frowns in confusion. Dream however closes his eyes and hums under his breath. The Corinthian has by now staggered to his lord's side complaining about his ruined suit. After a moment the new Dreamlord opens his eyes again and smiles a little bit brighter now. "He will be here shortly." The smile gets a little mean tilt. "I hope you don't mind his form though, he was indeed not pleased to be interrupted."

Before the entity can answer a strong wind sweeps over the area. Sand and little stones swirl around and lift into the air. The wind picks up more and more before a huge black shape dives out of the sky.

With one powerful beat of its massive wings, it stops short of touching the ground. Black as night it hovers behind the young man, making his white curls and clothes dance in the gust of its beating wings.

Dream smiles up at the monstrous raven, the stars in his eyes reflecting back at him from the dark ones of the beast.

"I'm sorry for the interruption of your evening but this guest here thought you would be a worthier challenge than me," the young man says with a beatific smile.

A deep rumbling scratching sound, a grotesque rendition of a chuckle, comes from the raven. "Then he must not know who he faces."

"It appears to be so. But perhaps he would like to compare, if you would like to join me?"

Again the rumbling scratching chuckle from the raven, "With pleasure. Let us show him the old and new terror of Nightmare. He may decide afterward which was more to his liking."

The Corinthian scoffed, "Sure you haven't gone soft in your retirement Morpheus?"

The raven turns his massive head towards the nightmare. "You are welcome to judge as well, little nightmare. Though I do not think this will take long." With that the raven turns to the entity in front of them. It seems to flinch when the dark eyes fix it in place. "Not long indeed. Shall we, my dear successor?"

"After you, Morpheus," the young man in white says, smile still on his soft lips, though as he turns to the entity, sharp teeth seem to glint behind them.

Just Morpheus and Daniel tag teaming and completely obliterating whoever thought to stand in their way. Morpheus would be so offended on Daniel's behalf here. How dare anyone think his successor would not be better than him. 

Btw no idea what the situation with Morpheus here is, he is retired but can still visit the dreaming and be either nightmare or dream, really no idea, only had the image and no context XD

Anon this is glorious! I cannot express what an honour and delight it was to find this waiting in my ask box!

I love how you captured Daniel, the 'boyish' sweetness with something decidedly more sinister lurking beneath the surface. He's so assured in this and it's sublime. The way his challenger uses Morpheus as a goad, but Daniel just shrugs it off in a, 'Well, it's your funeral' kind of way. 😅

I absolutely adored the relationship between Morpheus and Daniel. I think so often, we (myself included) picture their relationship as an imbalanced mentor/ student or retired!human/Endless one. But here, they have such a fist bump, we got this moment. They've got a perfect equilibrium in power and relationship and I love it! And Morpheus being offended on Danny's behalf. My heart! 💖💖💖

And the Corinthian rushing in there like a protective attack dog. Even though he knows Dream can more then handle the situation. Because ofcourse he would. And I think I'm now going to have to offically headcanon Cori getting a cheeky one liner in about retirement/here's the old guard/OK boomer whenever he meets Morpheus. 🤣

Hmmm, I've always liked to picture the relationship between Daniel and retired! Morpheus being more fluid. Almost a ying yang in that they have a little of each other in them. There's no saying Morpheus can't still tap into a little Endless in the Dreaming, while Daniel can tap into a little humanity in the Waking. Especially in regards to your fic, I love to think the links not entirely severed.

Once again thank you so much for this! I can't express how happy I was to read it. If you ever do illustrate it, please let me know!

[chthonic-cassandra]

Tagged by @awildwickedslip

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

111

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

312,131

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I write a little across a lot of fandoms. The only fandoms for which I have written substantial amounts are Dracula, Greek mythology, and Shakespeare's plays. I have active projects right now in Dracula, Xena, and Penny Dreadful.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shattered Mirrors (Jonathan in Dracula's castle), Make It Through the Wintertime (Hadestown Persephone character study), To Burn the Castle Down (Jonathan angst), Compromise (Dracula darkest timeline AU), Minor Initiations (different Dracula darkest timeline AU)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I have been trying to get in the habit of it. I think it's nice to express my appreciation and try to be a bit more social about all of it.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is a hard question; so, so many of the things I write are angsty. Specifically as far as endings, I am realizing that an extremely high proportion of my stories end with a character aware that they are about to die or that something else terrible is about to happen to them, and in some way accepting it. This is of course tragedy but I'm not sure it is quite angst.

Outside of this pattern, I think that To Burn the Castle Down is almost over the top angsty (it's not one I like to reread), as is For Every Grief That's Offered (yet another Dracula darkest timeline AU). Both are from ~15 years ago, and I would write them differently now.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ha. Do I write happy endings? Sometimes I do bittersweet hopefulness, of which I think Fidelity (poly Mina post-canon) and Still in the Realm of the Sun (Code Name Verity Julie/Maddie fix it) lean most heavily on the sweet side. The Caucus-Race (Alice in Wonderland, the Dodo enters politics) is legitimately happy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not to my face for a long time, at least not in a serious way.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do not.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not much. Many years ago I did a couple - a Dracula-Greek mythology and a Dracula-Vampire Chronicles, and also a little Nosferatu-Pied Piper of Hamelin which is the only one of those still up.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes - someone translated Foreigners (Aida, Amneris character study) into Mandarin. There might have been another but I don't remember it.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, though I once told @forthegothicheroine I would and then bailed on her, for which I continue to feel some guilt

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

To write, certainly Mina/Dracula/Jonathan. But that's not from an actually shipping it perspective. What I tend to write and what I ship when reading or watching something aren't all that related.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Mood, imagery, psychological interiority, small-scale structure/pace

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Smut, happy endings, writing anything long form

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I wouldn't feel comfortable doing it in a language that I didn't myself know, and the only non-English language I know well enough to do that in is ancient Greek, which I guess I could use somewhere but it hasn't felt necessary. Several installments of Compromise have important scenes of switching between languages so I've thought about it, but keeping all the text in English let me do a particular language-related reveal in this last installment which pleased me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Either Lord of the Rings or Phantom of the Opera

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Right now it has to be Compromise as a whole, but this is hard. There are a lot of other things I've written that haven't gotten as much attention as that one but which are very dear to me, but as a series Compromise means so much to me at the moment.

Too tired right now to tag anyone, but please consider yourself tagged if you'd like to do it!

[zdux]

League headcanon idea: the Morally Corrupt Skrunglies™ (aatrox, kayn, sett, sylas, viego, vladimir, yasuo/yone, etc.) Working at a host club/maid cafe

Bestie.... This is so horny you were so not kidding that you unhinged. I see you there, bribing me with Aatrox,,, and I'll take the bait.

Aatrox

Why is he here

This man is a physical embodiment of evil who's soul is a giant fucking sword

But yanno what in this economy, being a demonic sword just doesn't pay like it used to, huh

He will NOT be found in your like, traditional host cafe, he's going to the most like, 2009 black butler emo one he can find

...which of course ends up being the one the rest of these shit heads end up because not a single one of them knows how to stop being edgy for more than 5 minutes

He is annoyed to find Sett as the head host/manager, but at least he lets him wear basically whatever he wants. Which results in this being his regular fit. (See below)

He is,, very surprised when a certain *ahem* group, who shares a passion for uh,, yanno,, ;) ends up finding him

He actually becomes quite popular, especially with his thick, german - European accent. (Idk man it sounded German to me)

Kayn + Rhaast

Ah yes, the pretty boy

Like we said, being a demonic weapon just doesn't pay these days

Kayn has been working here as sort of a side hussle, just putting those good looks of his to use

He and Sett are buddies of course, so unlike most of the hosts who are put on pretty regular schedules, Kayn has it worked out where he can just come and go when he needs, as he has to manage not only his life, but Rhaast's too. He gives me double major college student vibes.

He's actually kind of a sweetie, like, he looks very very mean, and can be, but when he's hosting, it's up to the customer if they want him to just hang out and chill or put on the "bad boy" vibes

Sett

The cat boy host himself!

Dear lord was he popular because of tiktok, this man made BANK

He puts on a very friendly "Hello, welcome, ;)" sort of vibe where he seems very open and welcoming, but obviously it's Sett, he does what he wants

He is so not afraid to have a customer removed if they are treating someone poorly. He doesn't want the hosts catching shit for it but he will totally grab someone by the back of their shirt and throw them out

Has the cafe organized by like "soft boy ----> emo" as you walk through.

But it doesn't matter a lot since most of the hosts are in the "emo" section

Wears basically this but with a little name tag

I literally haven't worked on this in over a year, it's dated May 4th, 2022. I doubt I'm going to finish it, at least not on this post because it's just been sitting in my drafts for so long, so fuck it, I'm posting it, and MAYBE if I feel like doing the rest of them I will. But for now: here.

[moonnue]

Show Off

Ascended!Astarion x Tav/Reader (2nd Person POV)

Rated E! It’s smut! 18+ only!

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary:

When new guests arrive, Astarion always likes making a good first impression. He summons you, his beautiful trophy wife, to show everyone else just how much better he is than they are.

Notes:

Hello! Long time no see! I bring new garbage! :D Truth be told, I've got lots of WIP's. Just haven't been in the mood to finish any of them! Finally got around to this one. I was thinking: you know? We don't really see a lot of fics where Tav is just as fucked up as Ascended!Astarion. So, here it is! There is one named side character, Lord Wingate, that gets involved. I'm not sure what other tags to give this work, so if I missed a good one, let me know! (Or, hey, even if I missed a tag that could help people avoid this kind of story. I get it!) Anyway, hopefully you enjoy! ♥

—

"My Lady?"

You turn to the open doorway, where a servant stands. Poor dear won't meet your eyes. She's wringing her hands as she mutters, "Lord Ancunin has requested your presence in the throne room."

Your skin buzzes. It's been a while since he's made this request. Considering all the possibilities, you nearly shiver. You beckon her over with a crook of your finger. You watch with a wicked grin as she approaches, still avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart." You say as you show her your back. "The naked form is nothing to be embarrassed about. You shall see once you undress me."

Soon enough, you're walking through the hallways bare. Shoulders squared and chin raised high. There are mixed reviews from the castle staff. Some are used to it, though each individual has their reaction despite it, ranging from modest to deranged. Others avoid looking at you altogether, just as that new servant girl tried to do in your quarters. Regardless, it makes you smile.

'Look upon me,' you think, 'And weep that I belong to him.'

Read The Rest on Ao3 ->

[ineffable-bisexual]

Well....that was a thing.

Hey ya'll! I haven't been on here since the ending of GO Series One, and I may not stick around too long after posting this. I just finished Series Two this morning. And yeah, I'm a bit heartbroken.

Which goes to show how brilliant the writing was for this series. I'm heartbroken but hopeful because Neil did say there is potential for a Series 3 but things needed to happen in Series 2 first. Now I know why. I'm still utterly shocked at Aziraphale's decision in the end but as Michael said, he's always been a 'company man' and a lot of his character growth went out the window with a promotion. I can only hope he comes to his senses in Series 3.

@neil-gaiman - you may not see this as you will no doubt have tons of messages and tags! However, bravo to you, to David and Michael, to everyone involved. Series 2 was funny, silly, romantic, and then of course you left us with an angsty cliffhanger that many fan fic authors cry and salivate over. I thought it was a brilliant cliffhanger, sad tho it was, but I'm hopeful because this fandom is amazing (forgiving, tho? not sure about that LOL). I hope you're prepared to have some in this fandom nipping at your heels to get onto Series 3.

In the meantime, as a fic writer, I have posted a few fics before the new series premiered and I may not be writing any based on Series 2. Partially because the ending is still fresh for me, but also dear Lord there was so much in this one I wouldn't know where to begin.

So, if any followers I have left don't want to read any Series 2-based fics, come to my AO3 where you find Series 1-based, unrequited smut love, and South Downs retirement.

(something we're hoping for in this potential Series 3, @neil-gaiman)

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Great North (All the Things She Said, Part 2.)

Description: After a rather unlucky coincidence, Lord Asriel is left alone on his supposed expedition to meet the king of Lapland. Thanks to Thorold's advances, he's lucky enough to get an assistant sent over from the University of Oxford.

Part Summary: Whatever you imagined North to be like, its actual appearance didn't match your expectations and wasn't as thrilling. On the other hand, it was thrilling to see the first armoured bear in your life - except he hadn't had his armour and started drinking heavily.

Word Counter: 5.3 K

A/N: To be frank, I'd like to tie the story into the concept of the cannon while not specifically writing anything that would change it - so, Iorek already rampaged Trollesund and killed his predecessor and by that logic, he's already bending the steel for people of Trollesund. The witches also are connected to Lanselius at this point. So, why not mention it, huh?

By the way, I was then questioning myself as far as the logic goes and while it's not technically a rightful expedition I think there still would need to be official documents and results written down.

Tagging: @emmyspov

Series master list:  h e r e   | Series playlist:  h e r e

As you walked through the city of Trollesund, watching people being busy, fully captivated by their work and duties, your head was pretty much fully emptied out. The travel itself wasn't bad - the college paid you a ticket for a zeppelin and a first-class ticket to a ship setting out of Northern Brytain. By that point, you've been on the road for a week and each of them, you've captured in your journal. For each of your expeditions, there was a journal; this one was thicker than the rest of your journals and also vestured in a leather cover. As soon as you landed in Svalbard, the omnipresent cold hit your face, crawling deep into your bone marrow. And you had to add that you were wearing a proper coat, a warm hat, and boots padded with the finest, warmest fur. None of that helped. And you haven't even set out to venture to Asriel's observatory which was located at least two days' worth of travel from Trollesund... Without counting the time you'd use for resting.

"I already hate it here, " Joy mumbled, obediently running next to your foot. She was very curious about the town since it differed from everything you had experienced in Brytain. Everything in this town looked so dishevelled, old, and worn out, showing obvious signs of usage; all of the oil and dirt had its magic, you needed to admit. The people of Trollesund might've not been the richest, but everything they made was sturdy and steady.

"You're such a grouch, come on. We're on an adventure." "We're far from home and everything is so wild and cold here. How can you be so optimistic, Y/N?" "Because we, my dear, will see all of the northern fauna in its natural habitat. There are so few studies originating in taking interest in this rare ecosystem and the bio-cultural symbiosis between animals, armoured bears, and humans. We're gonna make the top ten for sure!" - You answered with a broad smile, trying to remind yourself of all of the great prospects that were ahead of you, waiting for you to explore them. The... Another part of the negotiations, the 'Golden boy part', was something you were trying to forget about for as long as you could. "May I remind you that I still am a coyote, Y/N, an animal that is supposed to live in warm American prairies and deserts? I'm not a snow fox, you know?" "And may I remind you that as long as I'm fed and warm, you're feeling that way too? What's gotten into you, Joy? Haven't seen you like this for a long time."

This time, the coyote looked up to you with its gentle golden eyes, her expression being overshadowed with worries and fear. Not hesitating, you dropped to your knee and looked your daemon deep into her eyes. What Joy needed to hear couldn't be said out loud. "Listen, Joy, Dr Carne has sworn on the law of scholastic sanctuary that this will forever remain a secret. And he never intended for anything but good to happen to us. This man wouldn’t cross us and he wouldn’t give out heads to the Magisterium for free. You have nothing to be scared of, we are safe and fine and we'll have an amazing adventure out here.”

“You’re really this calm about… Well, everything? This man is studying Dust, Y/N, he’s not conducting just some ordinary environmental expedition, you do realize that?” “I’m calm because I have faith in Carne and Asriel. Do you really assume that with the danger that this expedition holds, he’d just take the papers, travel all the way to London, and then wave them in front of the Cardinal’s face to flip him off? Think about the time we’ve been editing his article about Space and time… Remember how much he managed to reveal with this paper alone? His vocabulary and sentence structure, the way he's able to express his opinions or to explain the basics to a person who had never heard of such things... We both know he’s a genius.” “A genius with no sense of self-preservation or an ounce of reason in his mind. This is dangerously close to tiptoeing with insanity, Y/N, and you’ve taken part in this voluntarily.” - Before you could say anything else to Joy, both of you looked at a well-built man who had just approached you. He had a big smile, a fuzzy beard and warm, dark eyes. Since you had a raising suspicion that the man was at least somewhat nice, you smiled right back at him, standing up with the journal in your palm.

“Are you alright, lassie? Couldn’t miss the way you're standing in the middle of the street if I tried to.” “Ah, yes, thank you for asking. Joy, my daemon, is feeling a little bit unsettled because she can sense a huge animal wandering about.” - Even if the man hadn’t ever seen you, based on your blabbering alone he must’ve realized you’re coming up with everything on the spot. Not an ounce of truth in anything you’ve been saying. - “We’ve travelled here all the way from Oxford, you see? I’m an animal and environmental researcher and we’ve travelled here for our newest study, the bio-cultural system of Svalbard. Joy has been just rather unnerved by the presence of Panselbjørns on the island, just as I’ve been.”

“Oi, based on the way you’re talking alone I’m sure you’re a scholar, eh? And your daemon isn’t wrong if that's what you think, lassie. We have a bear living in this town." - The man explained rather proudly as he stepped closer to you, his deamon taking the form of a hound sitting beside him while staring at you with dark eyes. "A bear working for humans?" - The question was filled with genuine confusion on your part. You haven't seen an armoured bear in person before. Still, what you've gathered from all of the literature and official documents concerning negotiations with said bears, these sentient creatures were taking a strong liking in their pride. Proud as all bloody hell; so proud they'd rather die than humiliate themselves in such a way.

The Panselbjørne were majestic bears awaking respect within every living soul that had bumped into them, solitary sentient creatures that bowed to no man. They didn't answer to anyone but their king and even this bond was supposed to be quite loose. So how the hell did an armoured bear get into the city in the first place? "How did an armoured bear get in here? I suppose he hadn't just walked in asking about work applications, had he?" "Lassie it was a bloody massacre. The bear came here one day and started attacking the folk while destroying the city. It was horrible, young lady. After we took off his armour, he vouched to help the folk repair what he broke. He's not a bad bear, our Iorek." "Iorek Byrnison you mean?" - As you looked over to Joy, you'd swear that you had already read this name somewhere. It was a very old and very official document regarding the succession of the Svalbardian throne. Who had written it down and how precisely this document got into the college's possession was beyond you, but it was there. - "I've heard of him. Would it be possible to speak with him? For the... Research purposes, of course."

"It would be wiser not to interruprt him during the day, lassie. Then, it would be smart to ask the bear himself if he'd like to chat with you, I'm not the one to tell you. But if I were you, I'd try asking the folk working with him how much he'd drink. That might help you with talking to him." Drinking? A Panselbjørn drinking spirits? Again, Joy's eyes scanned the man in front of you. This situation seemed somewhat tricky, to begin with; a prideful creature working in a human town, drinking alcohol? No. That was not at all what Panselbjørne were supposed to be like. - "Thank you, sir, I'll ask around about Iorek around Trollesund."

"I thought you'll be staying about?" - The man wondered, raising one of his eyebrows while watching you as if something was wrong. "Never said that. I'll soon join a colleague of mine in his laboratory far up north. The innkeeper told me you can see the auroras clearer there than anywhere else in the whole world." - You answered, stepping away from the man to nonchalantly suggest that you'll be ending the conversation with him. Your sledge was about to prepare, that was one thing, and you wanted to look around for the Iorek you've been told about. "Aye, I know who you're talking about. We've seen the lad here once or twice, dressed very expansively with the behaviour of a butcher's dog. Haven't met someone with a more punchable face 'til then." "That sounds... Precisely like Lord Asriel. Let me apologise for his behaviour if he had been causing any trouble. It won't happen again. Well, I'll have to..."

"Careful for the witches, lassie. They have their contacts in here." - The man said instead of saying goodbye, turning right on his heels, leaving you in the middle of the road. After watching his back disappear in the distance, you've decided to sit down and start writing your first entry in the journal. The first one was making enough sense - Iorek (An armoured bear working for humans? Drinking Spirits? - Need to attempt to talk to Iorek for the sake of research... Fine, it's just curiosity.) - while your last one was simply - WITCHES??? HERE??? - with three lines highlighting the words.

Obviously, just like every other kid living in Brytain, you've been familiar with the entire concept of witches even though you haven't seen them with your own eyes. These women were supposedly enchantingly beautiful and free-spirited, who were enough to madden one's mind. Unlike the bears, they weren't in your research field and the stories about them were mere rumours rather than actual, historically reliable sources. So while you heard of the concept, you couldn't tell how much of said concept is based in reality. After finishing writing down your notes, you decided to pick yourself up and stroll through Trollesund - it wasn't for long, but you still had around thirty minutes to capture a glimpse of the mysterious Iorek.

As you made your way through the settlement, everything seemed to be in order; which, in translation meant that there were no bears in sight. That was until you came about a big, fenced property from where great slams of pure force could be heard; a huge gate made out of the thickest iron plates you’ve seen was held together by an overly-sized chain, locked together with a massive lock.

“Do you think Iorek is there?” - Joy muttered with curiosity, trying to catch a glimpse of anything under the gate, yet the small crack wasn’t enough for her to get a good look at the scenery. As you formed an answer, another of the forceful slams rang through the air, followed by a painful, horrifying roar which undeniably belonged to a bear. Blood started to freeze in your veins as you listened to the sound of unsaid rage and pain. - “I think he is. Let’s look around for an entrance, he might be hurt.”

As you asked Joy to run around the perimeter, you let the journal fall into your bag before circling around the other side of the property. The walls were made out of various steel plates, some of which were thicker than your thigh, and the spots that were only fenced by wires were blocked off properly. “Here! Here!” - Joy cried out as you saw her tail disappearing into an easily missable hole in the fencing - you could see a woman turning at you, obviously telling you not to go there just as you slipped in, holding your breath so you could squeeze through the tight space. As you pushed further in, you could feel your coat catching on various wires and small pieces of scrapped materials. The curious it’s got the better of you, didn’t it? Because just as you stumbled in, literally falling on your palms covered in leather gloves, you saw Joy cowering in fear; her golden eyes were open wide, he tail low between her back legs as she walked away from anything that was standing right in front of you. The presence of Iorek hit almost all of your senses at once.

First, there was the stench of his breath and the volume of it; the smell of spirits and meat the bear was feasting on after his shifts had ended wrapped around your nose, making you gag inaudibly. Then, there was the size of his enormous paws; one swing would knock you unconscious, and the second would either rip your head off or slice your throat open effortlessly. Only after that, you gathered enough courage to look at the bear hovering over your head - he was furrowing at you, his eyes watching you with anger as if you were the one holding him inside of the gates. His fangs were sticking out of his mouth as he hung it open, trying to figure out what to do, and his scarred muzzle crinkled in a confused expression. Iorek. As you prepared for your head to be chewed on, the bear simply snickered with anger and turned away from you. - “My workshop is forbidden to people and their daemons. Leave now, I do not require company and neither do I want it.”

Before he could make it halfway back to his shop, he began to grunt in displeasure; this time, it was nothing more than mere pain. By looking at the ground, you were quick to deduce what the origin of said pain could've been. There was a small, almost unnoticeable blood trail left behind the animal as it slowly moved forward. "You're injured." - Your tone was quiet and rather gentle in order not to upset or challenge the bear. You still had an awful lot of work to do and you needed to get to the observatory, quite frankly, alive. - "Humans are annoying and I know that, but I'm here to help. I won't pray, I promise Iorek." - Your knowledge of his name caught his attention; he turned his head right back at you and looked at you closer. You, in the meantime, walked over to a crate to sit down on, opening your bag; as you struggled to find any cloth, you simply took your coat off and pulled your cashmere sweatshirt down in order to have at least something to operate with.

"I haven't seen you around before... And yet, you know my name. Who are you?" - The bear asked you with suspicion, looking you up and down. - "It is in your best interest not to lie because bears won't fall for such deception." "Lucky me, I wasn't about to lie anyway." - With a smile, you put your coat back on and sat down, patting your knees. Iorek, even though you tried to be as calm and gentle as possible, was still on the edge over whether he could trust. - "Let me start with the basics, then - my name is Y/N and... It might come off as a surprise, but I'm a doctor of animal studies, operating at the University of Oxford in Brytain, Iorek. No malicious intent in sight so, please, stop being stubborn and let me help you. This bloody sweater cost me a whole fortune."

With a prolonged sigh, the bear sat down in front of you, putting his palm on your new, stylish warmers. You've maybe bought a whole new wardrobe just because you wanted to dress nicely in Asriel's presence; he might've been a private, strange person who had no self-preservation instinct, yes, but you wanted to match his style in this regard. You wanted to feel equal to him. "You differ from the people of Trollesund, miss Y/N, your heart seems to be filled with kindness. They are cruel and cold, holding me inside these gates without mercy, let me out when the sun sets behind the horizon. None of them would've helped me. I won't forget this gesture." "Why do you think that is? Why do you think they wouldn't help?" - While chit-chatting with the bear, you started to pull the bit of metal out of his paw. Iorek twitched a few times, closing his eyes in pain. As you watched it slip out, you grabbed one of the fabrics to cover it, searching for a small bottle of spirit in your bag. Also, Iorek's compliment about the kindness in your heart made you smile blatantly, but you assumed Iorek knew that he is the cause of the said smile. - "I don't have proper disinfection so this has to do. Desperate times, am I right? It will sting... A lot."

Normally, you weren't too big on drinking - but the innkeeper told you that it can save your life in the Northern wilderness. So you've bought a few mini-bottles to have on hand and right at that moment, it paid off. "I don't have to think about their reasoning..." - At this moment, he howled in great pain as you poured the spirit into the wound, covering it with another piece of fabric immediately. - "What you see around is my punishment for all the harm I've caused to the folk of Trollesund. The night it happened... I wasn't myself, Y/N, I was a beast torn from the chain. I couldn't compose myself no matter how much I tried. I've spilt blood, destroyed properties and brought night terrors."

"If I may, you don't strike me as this sort of... Of a bear. I don't know you, by all means, but you seem to be wise and astute. Just as I seem to be kind." "Back then, I've long forgotten who I once was. I've been exiled from my homeland and my friend, Lee Scoresby, wasn't nearby - I shouldn't have accepted the spirits the locals offered me to forget my wrongdoings because when I did... I have been deceived and stripped of my armour - which is the biggest shame that a Panserbjørn can imagine." "I know I've promised not to pray and I hope you won't understand my boldness as an attempt at deceiving you..." - You mumbled while patching the paw together, making sure the improvised bandage will be comfortable to walk around and work with. - "But what happened before you accepted the..." - The rest of your question couldn't be finished because of the metal gate opening loudly with folk pouring in, led by the man you'd met earlier.

"Las, this is not a place you should be at. It's dangerous." "No, it's not, trust me. This sentient, conscious animal needed help and as an animal researcher, it was my duty to assist. Iorek is not to be at fault." - With that, you stood up and patter the side of his enormous paw, letting him know that your job is done. - "I'll leave this workshop at once." - Looking away from the few newcomers, you turned your head to Iorek. - "When I'll come back to Trollesund for supplies, would you spare some time for me? Please?" "I will, Ms Y/N, doctor of the University of Oxford. It was an honour to meet you." "Pleasure was on my side, Iorek."

"You see, we could call for Sysselman to arrest you at once." - One of the ladies who were accompanying the gentleman, and who was yelling at you before, hissed in your direction. Now, you were standing outside the workshop and listening to repeating enormous slams coming from there. Iorek was back at work. "Yes. You definitely could." "You're lucky we're in a good mood..." - She muttered, letting you scoff under your breath. Not even Joy was able to hide the grin on her face. "Good mood, sure." - Joy's voice rang inside your head as you walked among them, not listening to the rest of what she had to say. - "They're just scared because they don't want to get tangled up in a diplomatic dispute with Jordan, as simple as that, Y/N. Sometimes it's fun, having some sense of authority." "Just don't let it mingle with your mind too much. I wouldn't stand listening to hours of your self-praising dialogue." "Oh shush, Y/N."

Not long after being forced out of Iorek's workshop, more like forced-labour tiny space for a bear that was far too intelligent and big for it, your sledge was ready to set off on a journey through the Great Northern wilderness. On your journey, being accompanied by a local hunter, you've taken two photograms (one belonged to a waste, endless snow plain with the sun setting on the horizon and the second belonged to a pair of snow foxes who were staring at you and Joy with pure interest) and made countless journal entries to describe the excitement that filled you up. The pages were filled with plain reflections and observations, occasionally you also drew a sketch, trying to capture the essence of the place inside your mind.

To be frank, the further you were from any signs of civilization, the darker the nights got and the colder the climate was - snow usually came late at night or very early in the morning, but that wasn't anything Samuel couldn't handle. The reindeer pushing the sledges with all your belongings was well-tamed and calm, even though the biggest snow storms you had to push through. On a late evening of the second day, you stopped yourself for a second to look at a majestic cliff covered in snow that was frozen solid.

Your cheeks were on fire, stinging with each blow of the ice-cold wind, you've been dressed with God knows how many layers of clothing just to be able to use your limbs and keep warm. Samuel made you both a strong herbal tea mixed with some of the spirits to keep your bloodstream bumping that hot fluid into your body, so you unfastened the staple off your belt to take a sip out of the thermos while taking in the sight. On the very edge of the cliff, probably built into the rock, there was the observatory you've heard all about. The lights were on, almost welcoming and inviting. It wasn't excessive but it wasn't too small either, the outer walls made out of, presumably, insulating panels to keep the place warm. So far, the place itself didn't appear to be too bad.

"Almost there, miss. I'll get you inside in about an hour before another snowstorm hits us. How are those cheeks of yours doing, huh?" - The hunter asked with a scoff, poking fun at you. Sure, you should've expected the North to be very cold (that's why you bought so many warm clothes in the end), but you didn't expect your mimic muscles to stiffen up in a rather uncomfortable smile which you weren't able to shake off for the most part of today's morning. Now, you scoffed at the question, but you'd been crying seven hours ago since the spasm hurt really bad. You had to close your eyes and push your face above a fire for the muscles to finally relax. "Much better now, Samuel, you're a wizard. Now I'm better off knowing I'll need to pack a face mask with me." "Don't call me that. Don't want the Magisterium coming after me." "Oh, don't worry." - You answered in a similarly amused tone of voice. - "Your secret is definitely safe with me."

As you pushed closer and closer to the observatory, the night was getting bleakly cold; you had high snow boots on with a pair of woollen socks inside, but you couldn't feel your feet for at least ten minutes by that point. As usual, both your daemons hid under the fabric holding all of your stuff in place so they wouldn't freeze to death. Thankfully, the doorstep was just a small bit away now, not even ten minutes of a painfully slow pace. "Are you sure you're supposed to be here? Doesn’t add up to me!" - Samuel called out all of a sudden, trying to shout over the strong wind howling in your ears. - "I know I shouldn't stick my nose into your scholar business, but... You seem nice and I do mean it in the best way possible." "I'm pretty positive I am, Sam, this is my home for the next four months. Shame I won't be able to take morning strolls under the morning sun!" "Well, technically you can but you’ll need to dress properly and take a cup of hot coffee! But that's beside the point! I'm talking about that scholar who's living here! Asriel IDon’tRememberHisLastName!" "What about him? Has he been acting up around you? Was he rude?" "You see, you're nice and he's... How should I put it delicately?" "I know what he's like, don't worry! I've already worked with him previously. And to answer your question, I'm totally in the right place. Only Golden boy would choose this place to in voluntarily."

“Golden boy?” - Samuel repeated with an amused expression creeping all over his face. - "I like that. I like that a lot. I’m just worried because sometimes he doesn’t seem to have an ounce of reason. Asriel is smart, smarter than all the folk in Trollesund with me included, but he has the look of a madman.” “Really? Either I’m blind or he never looked at me that way. I’d never suspect that, to be honest with you!” “Or never look at you in that way, probably. As I said, you’re a nice person to be around.” “Samuel thank you for the kind words but stop complimenting me. All the blood will flow into my cheeks and instead of pushing my face above a fire, I’ll have to push my head into a sink full of boiling hot water.” - And with that, you’ve both stopped at the summit, standing right below the entrance. The storm was getting worse, the wind now picking on both intensity and cold.

As Samuel helped you carry all your bags and replenishments of supplies, you started to look for your copy of the keys that had been sent to you by Thorold; you managed to open the door wide, putting it all into an entrance hall before saying your goodbye to Samuel, wishing him farewell as you watched him pushing back through the snow, his reindeer never leaving his side. The night was just getting worse and as you watched him disappearing into the void of darkness, you hoped he'd make it back home alright. It was hard to tell if it was the journey’s toil that had left its mark on you or if it was the numb feeling in all of your limbs, but you’d never been in a warmer and nicer place than Adriel’s observatory. It was visible at the first glance that he doesn’t bother with cleaning too much; the place wasn’t wreaked by strange smells or dirt visible by the eye, but pure chaos had overtaken every surface visible on the first floor. It was dimly lit, feeling almost overly secretive and intimate, but you’ve been able to recognize the kitchen and a door cracked open, leading into the bathroom.

As you walked further into the building and took off your gloves, hat and the hood of your coat, the feeling of a burning, almost painful sensation overwhelmed you; your limbs remembered that they were indeed still attached to your body upon regaining sense. It felt strange… To have all five fingers again. The sudden warmth difference also wore you out instantly. Now that you were in safety, you were ready to sleep through a whole day's worth of time. You could’ve been standing in one place for around five minutes, just taking in the interior of the place and regaining control over your body when you noticed fuss coming to you from the upper floor; Asriel wasn’t seen for a few moments as he made his way to the stairway, pulling the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.

It was unclear who Asriel was expecting to appear on the doorstep... Yet simply the way Asriel stopped in his tracks to look at you with disbelief made you realize that you certainly weren't who he'd been awaiting. He froze in place, still holding the hem of his sleeve between his fingers while watching you awkwardly smile at him, even raising your numb hand to wave his way; Stelmaria was accompanying him, tilting her head to her shoulder as she let her eyes ponder over you and Joy.

Asriel still looked the way you remembered him - and mind you, it was a few good years since you’d had the time to look at him properly, without any sense of rush. When he was around Jordan, which wasn't too often, you'd pass each other in the hall while walking to entirely different parts of the college - once in a time. The man was clearly in good condition (given the circumstances outside, he had to be in the best shape possible), letting his clothes delicately outline his frame; his sweater was tucked into cosy pants that highlighted his hipbone as well as emphasized the width of his shoulders. The features on Adriel’s face had grown a little deeper, worried, and the wrinkles were standing out more than you remembered - but that could be easily explained due to the dim lighting of the observatory. Sure, his hair was quite overgrown and wavy, but that could be understood due to the absence of any professional barber. If someone would ask you if there was a feature which remained just the way you recalled it, it was his eyes - the shape and intense blue checked out perfectly, just like the intensity with which he was watching you.

It was still there. Throughout the years you’ve spent building your own academic career, you managed to persuade yourself that this must've been a fabrication of your mind, something that would make you feel better about spending your evenings in utter silence disturbed only by the music coming from the gramophone located in the back of his office. Now, standing in front of him as you returned his look, it clearly wasn’t just a delusion. The lingering sensation in his stare, unsaid words you wished to hear. Thoughts locked in the fortress built out of cold logic and knowledge, topics that were never brought up even though you’d both enjoy talking about them; you’d maybe even laughed, who knew?

Before you could say anything out loud, just as you opened your lips to greet him and send regards from Dr Carne, Asriel outran you by a long shot. As he made his way down the stairs, you could hear him breathing out loud as if you had just upset him somehow. Then, he spoke; in a tone that sent chills down your spine and made you shiver. First, there was the frown and second, there was the thunder taking the form of his voice. - “What on Earth are you doing here, Ms Y/L/N?”

[vellatra]

I don't really know any characters from your story besides Vellatra herself, so how about #1, #8, and #9 for the most important character who is not her?

Oh dear! You know what, I'd never really considered who was "second-most important"! So I did some pondering... and mulled it over with my advisor and confidante (@reneethegreatandpowerful), and have come to the conclusion that Zac is second. HOWEVER! The story has a few different groups it follows, with their own side plots and stuff, so I have also included perhaps one of the more interesting folks from each of these groups. Thanks for the tough question! Those are the ones that help me fine tune stories. 😁 And now, your answers.

(Apologies - I committed the cardinal sin of using a "skin color" marker in this drawing, thereby turning him into Donald Trump. Sorry! 😅)

Q: Full name and occupation?

A: "I'm Zachary James O'Connor. Most people just call me Zac. I'm in training to eventually join the army in the Merfaen tiz Ornaru - if I don't find a way back to Earth first, that is!"

Q: What do you do for fun?

A: "My favorite pastime is playing video games! Especially fantasy swordplay stuff, like Zelda, Xenoblade, and Final Fantasy. They don't have electronics in this world though, so nowadays I tag along with Aileev and get into mischief with her, mostly." 😆 (Author's note: Aileev is Vellatra's teenage firecracker of a daughter. I'll have to introduce her sometime soon!)

Q: What is your greatest achievement, and why do you think so?

A: "I learned Flunibu, the Merfaen language, to a conversational level in a couple of weeks. Never thought I'd learn a new language that fast!"

Q: Full name and occupation?

A: "Vexina Katrina Fini. I'm a specialist in the natural sciences, and at the moment I'm on a government funded mission to investigate some strange phenomena near the edge of our solar system. ... Admittedly I've been pretty sidetracked lately! But Silen Fah is full of interesting new flora and fauna to discover, so I'm not too upset." 😁

Q: What do you do for fun?

A: "I enjoy reading up on the most recent scientific discoveries, and mulling over the unexplained mysteries of the universe. Did you know, for example, that nobody's yet come up with a satisfactory theory for how the mammoths were frozen so quickly and preserved so perfectly? The temperatures and conditions you'd need-"

Q: Ahem, next question! What is your greatest achievement and why do you think so?

A: "By a long shot, the discovery of this new world! No earthly scientist has ever been able to catalogue so many new species and geological formations as I have, and all thanks to a happy accident on our travels through space! I worry, though, that no one will ever find OUT about my achievement. I haven't found a way back home, or a way to send my findings to Earth.... But hope is not lost and I won't give up!"

Q: Full name and occupation?

A: "I am Fabian, son of Henry. I am a squire for Sir Galahad of Camelot."

Q: What do you do for fun?

A: "I enjoy practicing swordplay, hunting, and riding horseback when the time may be spared."

Q: What is your greatest achievement and why?

A: "I have done little worthy of renown as of yet, but I am only a youth. I trust that, in time, great things shall be done. Perhaps I shall become a knight of King Arthur's court? Slay wicked beasts? Save fair maidens? What the Lord willeth, I stand ready to do."

This is the second time I've typed all this out... sure hope Tumblr doesn't delete it all again! This is getting tedious. 😵

Anyway, it was fun to figure all this out! Thanks again for the question!

[avengerthoughts]

An Unlikely Ally (Dream x Neutral!Reader) Pt.2

= Part 1 =

Authors Note: I honestly don't know how many parts there'll be to this? I suppose I'll just keep writing until it comes to a natural close :] hope you enjoy !

Warnings: Violence, mentions of torture, things of that nature

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader (still haven't decided the nature of the pairing ! (,: )

Tags: @katiemrty @freedomsofdream

Words: 3,230

__________________________________

The following days began to blend together for you; days turning into weeks, weeks turning into months, and months turning into years. Age dare not touch you, one of the many benefits of being something close to an immortal. Unfortunately, due to your inability to simply perish from old age, it gave one Roderick Burgess a perfect opportunity to experiment on you as much as he possibly could. One could say that the first few weeks were the worst, but what a lie that would be.

In fact, the longer time stretched, the more adventurous he got with his experimentation. At times, your screams were so deafening that it reached even the Dream Lord. You tried to keep yourself contained, keep them from hearing the satisfaction of your agony, but even you had limits to how much you could handle. Perhaps it was the lack of being actually submerged in water for any truly meaningful length of time, or being confined to such a dark, soul-crushing space, but even your heart ached for the call of home.

Of course you knew what you were getting yourself into before you had even started your journey, and you didn't regret a single one of the decisions you made along the way, but it didn't stop the homesick feeling from filling the empty pits of your stomach. Truly, you weren't even sure if you'd ever see home again at this point, it seemed like such a far away dream nowadays. Not very often were you ever left alone, even rarer alone long enough to simply be with your thoughts, but when you were, you found the songs of home resurfacing.

This time, the song that prodded itself into your memory, was a little lullaby your mother would sing to you when you were still so small.

'A paragon of beauty to behold, born of seafoam cold, in your eyes hold a deep mystery disguised, but dare not underestimate the wrath of a riptide.'

You'd thought it a silly little rhyme growing up, though as you got older, as you witness more of the world above the sea, only then did you truly understand the real meaning behind words and hold them dear to your beating heart. You were a child of the depths of the ocean, and the sea holds a grudge. It remembers so very vividly, and bears wrath unforeseen. It doesn't question it's worth, nor does it lose it's hope or confidence, it simply is what it is and allows those around it to understand it's nature or risk being buried in the dark trenches below.

The same would be said for you, as the nature of the tides is ingrained in your very soul. A child of the ocean, a protector of the sea, and you wouldn't falter. As strong and as unforgiving as the very waves, and you wouldn't let some power-hungry mortals strip you of who you were. Though, with that being said, there were times that you couldn't help but scream out in agony. Human weapons were developing quickly, and it certainly served you no good. When Roderick finally died at the hands of his own son, you had made the mistake of thinking freedom was finally yours to taste.

It was not.

His son was a coward, and continued his fathers work, that included keeping you captive and even advancing some of the methods that were used on you. Arguably crueler methods.

Fingernails were plucked from their beds, to both witness how you'd react, and test them to see if they'd be any use. Cuts were made, various amounts of blood drawn in the same efforts as the fingernails. As if the entire purpose of your existence, was to serve in their barbaric rituals. As if you didn't have a consciousness, thoughts, feelings, the same as anyone else. Small sections of skin was taken from your arm, hair cut at random points, random bones broken just to see how long it would take you to heal, and that was just the things without the use of what humans call science and magic. Alchemy was, quite honestly, a generous term to bestow upon them.

When the chemicals came? That's when things got unprecedentedly worse. Random vats of chemicals were produced, just to have you thrown in to see what would happen, if you'd still be able to breathe, and if any other liquid could trigger a 'tail' or anything else that wasn't nessicarily human in quality. Then, if a tail, for example, were to be produced, scales would be plucked from it to be tested in the same fashion as everything else. Obviously, they must have discovered a few things along the way, because their methods began to get repetitive. Doing the same experiments in order to gain scales from you, blood, or whatever else was on their agenda.

You couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were using these tokens of you for, what twisted rituals they were preforming with the unwilling aid of you. Even more unfortunately, also somewhere along the way, they discovered just how much the water would bend to your will, so when you weren't being tested on, you were kept securely in a sphere of your own, half-filled with sand, to keep you dried out until their next experiment. The sphere was, indeed, inescapable, and without water near you, it took quite a while for you to heal. It kept you weak, unable to truly fight back in any meaningful extent, and they knew it.

Morpheus would have to be a truly apathetic individual to ignore the screams that would flood through the manor whenever it got too much for you. To say that the prospect of what they may be doing to you disgusted him, was a grave understatement. While your screams would fill the air, the two guards standing watch before his own prison, would simply stand there, unbothered, as if it weren't the most shrilling sound to echo the very Earth. Sailors and immortals alike, whisper tales of the enchantment of the songs of the sea, but they never whisper of the haunting screams that would so rarely curse the tides.

Admittedly, other than the disgust, the anger, there was also a heavy weight of guilt that rested on his shoulders. So much so that it plagued every thought, no matter how long he was trapped there, able to do nothing but think. You had come here, because of him, and now you were trapped here all the same, because of him. How painful a twist of irony, for not a single one of his family to at even attempt to help him, yet someone he'd never met before risked pain untold to simply try to help. Though he truly wished he'd be able to do something, anything, he was just as helpless as he was when he was first trapped in here.

That didn't stop Alex from clinging to any threads he could, to try and get the King of Dreams to say something to him--anything. So, when he'd exhausted everything else, he defaulted to you. Despite Dream never giving an inclination of attachment to you, all in an effort to spare you from any further torture, and despite Paul's protests, it seemed he was just as much of a crazed mule as his father. Dream may be an expert at hiding his feelings behind a steel gaze, but even he was tested when your bloody, haggard frame was thrown into his view.

Your hair that once fell elegantly on your shoulders, lay in messy, uneven chops. Bruises, cuts, scabs that were unable to ever heal, fresh burns on your legs from yet another half-dip into a mystery chemical earlier that day, skin flaking at random areas from the lack of water. You were barely able to keep yourself upright, most of your weight being held at your hip from how much your legs hurt. Despite it, the dampness of the tiles clung to your skin, helped heal you the smallest bit, but what a relief it was.

"Would you still dare to not utter a word, even if they'd receive punishment?" Alex questions, "I won't hurt them, if you just say something to me, tell me you won't come for me if I free you." It was almost begging, at this point.

Morpheus remains as silent as ever, and he knows that even if he doesn't deserve it, you understand.

"Are you that apathetic, that you'd let them die for your silence?" Alex questions, "Or are you just truly that selfish?"

"Idiocy runs in the family, it seems," Your somehow still elegant voice breaks the tension, "First your father, now you," You look up, blood having stained your lips, "If you wanted me dead, I'd have met my fate long ago, do you think him stupid? Or I?"

"Bold, you are, to be speaking so when I could kill you right now." Alex threatens, though you know it's not a threat of substance.

"So then do it, relieve your pistol of it's cage, and shoot a bullet through my skull, I implore you," You dare, "My body is weak, my mind is not. I am not a feeble maiden, I harbor venom on my tongue, for the likes of you."

Alex can't do much but simply stare, anger slowly drawing on his face from being embarrassed by someone he was holding captive.

"He may not speak to you, but I so willingly offer my words at your plate, since you are so hungry for conversation," You spit, rage boiling in your gut, "What's wrong? Haven't you been begging at his feet for conversation? I offer it to you now, and you stare back at me with your mouth gaping like a salmon out of water."

"You shut your filthy mouth, you rotten creature. You speak when spoken to." He threatens and a dry laugh leaves you.

"Or what, My Lord?" You sarcastically ask, "You'll hurt me? Cut my hair? Rip my fingernails off?" You hold up a hand that wasn't keeping you upright, and wiggle your fingers with a weak grin, "Your threats are meaningless, as I have lived all you offer already, and your offering is pathetic in nature, as it matches you perfectly. You're an idiot, Alex Burgess, and so was your father."

He turns his body to face you now, and Morpheus can hardly believe you had a heart of steel, even after all you went through. You still remained as bold as when he first saw you captured.

"What connection have you assumed us to have, Alex? Does seaweed replace your brain? Have the fumes of your alchemy eaten away at your brain already? Before the day your father captured me, The King and I had met not." You glare at Alex, "To what reason would he feel for breaking his silence, just because little Alex Burgess got his big, strong men to hurt little old me, hm?"

"You are a foul creature of the devil himself, speak another word and I promise you will regret it." Alex threatens, a rageful look in his eyes.

"At least the devil doesn't live in dishonor and cowardice-" You began, but were interrupted by a very harsh slap from Alex.

Your cheek stung, and your neck ached from how fast your head had turned, but even so, it didn't break your resolve like he had intended it to do. At first, your complete silence had satisfied him, yet angered Dream, and he had walked back to where he once stood in front of the sphere with full intention of once again trying to get Dream to speak. The eerie laugh that left your lips made his hair stand, gooseflesh running down his arms. It terrified him right to his psyche, and the look on his face was enough to bring a wave of satisfaction to Dream.

You couldn't explain why you were laughing, why it bubbled out of your throat, but perhaps the idea of the supposedly oh so strong Alex had been boiled down to slapping an otherworldly creature such as yourself, yet tried to act so bold in front of Morpheus. Or perhaps you had finally, truly lost it. Perhaps the torture had finally broke you, in a way that wasn't expected. Sure, while Roderick was sinister and sadistic, at least he had some semblance of an IQ about him. Alex Burgess, is his father, without the confidence, without the sadistic edge that he tries so hard to fake.

He wasn't even the one doing your torture, it was always one of the men under his employment. Alex had not the courage to look you in the eye and complete his own whims, and while you hoped Roderick was rotting in Hell, at least he could give you the dignity of looking you in the eye.

"You are nothing but a little marble trying to be a pearl, a dolphin trying to be a great white," Your laugh dissipates slowly, tone darkening, "You will die in your efforts, Alex. I only hope I am there, to watch you in your final moments of struggle, and know you died unable to do the one thing your aging body has been trying to accomplish since you murdered your father," You look over your shoulder, hair falling in your face, striking eyes wild with a darkness you hadn't felt before.

"Why must you make things so difficult?!" Alex questions, though his voice falters.

"I may not have much strength left in me, but I have enough to make you a promise of the sea. The oceans will anger upon catching a glimpse of your face at their waters, your bathwater will feel like weights pulling you down, no umbrella will keep you from getting drenched during rainfall," You promise quietly, feeling quite nearly the last bit of your power leaving you, "You won't find happiness on beach sunsets, on spring showers, loving baths with your husband, and I promise the creatures of the deep will swallow you whole if you dare enter their waters. Music will pound at your skull, making it unbearable to listen to. Every creature, from creatures of the sea, to amphibians, will find solace in devouring your flesh."

"I...I've had enough out of you!" Alex stutters, calling out for his men to hold you still.

Once again, Dream finds himself thinking that three men holding you in your place, with your neck bared, is an excessive use of force when you were so clearly unable to even stand on your own from your injuries. He wonders if somehow Alex enjoyed it, knowing he had so many men so loyally at his beck and call, able to do whatever he told them to do since he was too cowardly to do it himself. Perhaps so, and even though the scene makes his very stomach churn, he can't bring himself to look away.

You had known it would've boiled down to this anyway, with Alex using something against you, in order to entice Morpheus into speaking. It seems that even if it didn't outwardly appear so, you were always two steps ahead of Alex, and the poor fool was too much of an idiot enveloped in his own anger to even realize he was feeding right into your trap. Why had you sped up the end result, though? Was it so you'd have the dignity of knowing it was on your own terms?

To spare him the humiliation of knowing he couldn't speak to save you from whatever Alex had planned? To spare him the guilt of knowing? Your mind was a mystery, but he found himself marveling at your intelligence, and worrying if you'd really make it through everything. Anyone could tell you were already barely making it, just by looking at you. How your skin now had a sickly undertone, how your skin peeled and flaked from the lack of water...

No matter what, he was going to get out of here somehow, and grant you freedom as well, he was just awaiting the right time. Alex retrieved a syringe from seemingly out of nowhere, filled with a mysterious thick, black liquid.

"Do you know what this is?" Alex questions, "Because I don't, not really, but that book my father left behind? Well...It told me of a little way to really make you shut that vile mouth of yours," He begins, "Make you an obedient little puppy."

"Little Alex Burgess, can't even silence me on his own," You laugh, "Has to use a little magic in his aid."

"Foul-mouthed mer-creature, I will enjoy this greatly."

And before you knew it, his hand was coming down, syringe painfully piercing your neck. A noise of pain left your lips as the liquid was slowly pumped into your bloodstream. It hurt, it felt like the liquid was too big for your very veins, sticking and clinging to the walls of your arteries like tar. It was enough to have you feeling sickly, and you were certain that if you had anything to throw up, that it would be on the stone floor by now. Onyx tinted your blood vessels, making a visible stain as it quickly travelled through your veins.

Alex moved away, stuffing the syringe into his pocket, smiling in satisfaction of the silence that fell over you. Vaguely, you could hear him, though your vision ran blurry. Darkness spotted your sight, like quilled ink dropping onto your very corneas; and you couldn't tell if it was from the substance that was just pumped into you, or your body finally giving out. A migraine plagued you next, so great that your head fell into your hands, fingers gripping your hair from the pain, and yet you couldn't make a sound.

Despite how much your own head hurt you, it felt like your mind was swimming in the worst way. It was like the thick ink was dragging your very muscles down, leaving you even weaker than you were before. It wasn't shocking that you didn't notice them moving a sphere into the room, placing it beside Dream's, you were too busy silently coughing and gagging on the liquid as it slowly stuck your throat. The guards hauling your weak frame up, and almost tossing you into the sand-filled sphere escaped you, had it not been for the humiliating removal of your clothes.

For once, you actually welcomed the warm, dry sand graining against your already dry flesh. It was truly the only thing grounding you, reminding you of where and who you were. For once, genuine fear crept into your heart; fear of losing who you were, of losing memory of where you'd been, reduced to nothing but a floundering fish out of water. Such a fate, was far worse than death, and yet it seems like there's nothing you could do to help yourself. At least when you were thrown in, you'd landed on your side, knees close to your chest.

The bright light did little to aid your vision, though you currently could barely think clearly enough to note such a fact, let alone ponder it's correlation to the substance running through you. Unwillingly, you finally let the dark spots clouding your vision take over, leaving you somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

[celeste-fitzgerald]

thou brought this upon thyself.

get to know your fic writer asks:

7, 10, 11, 12, 19, 20, 23, 24, 25, 34, 37, 43, 45, 46, 53, 56, 59, 63, 64 and 74

:>

Girl you're crazy lmao ily

7) How do you choose which POV to write from?

Oh damn that's a good question! I don't have a good answer to this one, I usually just think about whose eyes it would be more interesting to see through for each fic.

10) Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Uhhhh. I haven't been doing much writing lately. And the one fic I have been working on, "blinks" isn't in there (and neither is "blink"). So I went back to 2 other wips I haven't added to in a couple months and THOSE DON'T HAVE "BLINKS" EITHER. So I just searched "wink" instead so here's that one. (Unfortunately for you dear rufusrant you've already read what I have so far on this wip, but for everyone else, here's a teeny tiny snippet of the next chap of Learning How To Love You.)

Richard winked and inched toward the seat on George’s right. “Well?” 

11) Link your three favorite fics right now

Oh lord let's see. I'm interpreting "right now" as "currently on my mind," so these are ones that I've been reading and/or have been posted recently. for mutual benefit by thestartofnothing (fandom: JJBA; ship: jotakak) Not Lost In Translation by @007waffles007 (fandom: JJBA; ship: avpol) She Makes Me Smile by @007waffles007 (fandom: ELO; ship: mik/kelly)

12) how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

Well as with any writer, I love feedback! Though after being in some tiny fandoms (or at least tiny from a fanfic perspective) I've gotten more used to not getting much feedback. All feedback is very very very appreciated of course, but feedback/support from 1 or 2 friends tends to make me very happy regardless of what other kudos/comments I get.

19) What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

To the surprise of literally no one, it is "fluff" (283 fics).

20) Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Already answered!

23) Best writing advice for other writers?

Write what YOU want to see, regardless of whether you think other people will like it.

24) Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

I honestly can't think of any?

25) What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

I don't knowwwww!! I spent a while looking through my fics to see if any of them fit, but that just ended up being me going "oh I forgot I wrote that, that one was cute!" for 15 minutes haha. I think I'm fine with how things are tbh.

34) Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

Man I don't know where I see myself in five weeks XD Mostly I just hope I'll still be posting fluffy oneshots on ao3 and sharing fic ideas with friends.

37) How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Not really a good way to answer this one, just where it feels right. But that's entirely dependent on the context of the fic.

43) Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

😭I'm definitely more of an "I want everyone to be safe and happy" kinda girl. When I make the characters suffer it's usually very mild suffering. Though, fun(?) fact about me, when I daydream about my fandoms, the daydreams often get pretty angsty and rough. But those ideas usually remain as daydreams because it would be too hard to actually write them.

45) Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

Laugh and smileeee.

46) How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

Oh emotion-driven 100%.

53) How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Ooh, that really depends on my mood and how long I've been in the fandom for. When I get into a new fandom, I tend to read tons and tons of fics, then much later I'll actually start writing for it. And I tend to spend less time reading the longer I've been in a fandom. But every once in a while I get hit with an urge to spend all night reading fics.

56) What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Oh boy let's see...I think I'm pretty good at giving readers warm fuzzy feelings? And I love when I'm able to do that.

59) Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Yes. A small number of my in-person friends. Plus my parents and my sister. But I'm pretty sure my sister still thinks it's stupid lmao. My dad's great about it though. Oh and my gf!!

63) Something you hate to see in smut.

Huh, when I read this question, I thought "oh boy, I'm gonna have lots of things I hate." But now I'm...struggling to come up with any? There are certain things I like more than others, and things I need to be in a certain mood to read. I guess maybe just when the relationship feels unequal. Don't like that.

64) Something you love to see in smut.

When the characters laugh/joke around/etc. Just anything to show them being really comfy and genuine with each other in such an intimate moment.

74) You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

I have posted a fic anonymously. Try to find it >:) (not you, rufusrant, you already know it's me.) Haha but in all seriousness, probably by me going "ahhhhh thank you" in every reply to every comment lmaooooo.

:>

[polish-tickle-freak]

Lord in the castle, part 1

Dear reader - I tagged this post as a tickle fic, and it is a tickle fic, but I'm going to write something long and complex, so please don't be disappointed if you'll not find exactly what you're looking for in first few parts. However - if you read this from the beginning to the end - you won't be disappointed. I promise ☺️

Special thanks to @twordishlittleprincess for the inspiration, for creating Artemis' character and for being my first reader ❤️

"So, this is Bran Castle," thought Artemis while looking at a big, gloomy, but also fascinating and breathtaking building. She used to live among all the luxuries she could imagine, always surrounded by beautiful things, servants, and entertainment. Her father - prince of Moravia - was always ready to give her anything she wants, so she was pretty sure he loves her, but now... Now she wasn't that sure. Not at all.

The castle was nothing like her father's palace. At first sight, it was obvious, that this is a military building. It was placed at the top of the hill. High and incredibly thick walls, lots of towers, deep moat, raw and sinister appearance in general... And this is the place she's going to stay for another couple of months... Maybe years... And maybe all of her life.

"No," she thought "my father doesn't love me".

She was given to Mika the Vampire as a hostage. Moravia, ruled by her father, and Transilvania, where Mika was in charge, were always close to the war. Both counties were strong and ambitious and they were neighbors. It's for sure enough as a casus beli.

Moravia and Transilvania have one mutual opponent - the kingdom of Chechia, which get much stronger than them in a few last years, but Artemis's father and Mika allied and their armies invaded Chechia. Even though they were connected with a common goal, both of the lords haven't trust the other, so they decided to exchange hostages, to protect their backs. So - Mika's son went to Moravia, and she was escorted... here. To the Mika the Vampire's castle.

She shuddered at the thought of the man. People called him "the Vampire" because he had a strange affection for young women. He often visited villages in the neighborhood of the castle, searching for the most beautiful girls. He was taking them to the castle, and nobody knows what he was doing to them... But after some time girls were coming back... they changed. They were exhausted like someone completely sucked their energy out. They never told what they experienced at Bran Castle, but people were talking. Talking about Mika drinking their blood.

She knew that he wouldn't mind calling him "the Vampire". It made his opponents fear and it helped him to rule.

In about half an hour she'll meet the man. Mika the Vampire. She shuddered again. "I hope he's not going to drink my blood," thought Artemis.