#go forth and slay my man

[moonshynecybin]

hey! slightly batshit question but i’m making a motogp primer for 2024 and want to include some of quotes of urs from ur rosquez crash course and was wondering if that’s be ok? i’d link back to the og post obvs! no prob if not lol x

yeah of course !!

[xx-like-a-villian-xx]

I'd Love To Watch

You’re forced to share a room with Noah and he wonders what book you’re reading.

This one is for all my dark romance reading babes, stay slay 🥀

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, (I have so many WIPs)

CW: one bed trope (ugh my fave), mentions of dark romance, fingering, Noah is a MUNCH, squirting, forced proximity (let me know if I need to add any more)

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, staring at the second suitcase in the bedroom that you called dibs on when you arrived at the Airbnb. “Matt, who put their shit in my room?” You call out to your best friend and tour manager who walks towards you, a smug smirk on his face.

”Well Noah kept saying he would take the couch but there’s a California King in there so I told him he should just bunk in with you tonight.” He leans against the doorframe, grinning. “Call it team building.”

”Team building?” You scoff, exasperated.

All you want is one night to yourself without being stuck in a bus full of sweaty guys and Matt thinks it's funny to let the man you’ve been trying to avoid all tour share your room.

Noah doesn’t like you, it’s been clear since day one. Every time he talks to you he’s so patronising and cocky it makes your blood boil but it’s not like you can say much. You’re just their merch girl after all, replaceable. If it wasn’t for Matt you wouldn’t even have the opportunity so you keep your mouth closed and stay out of Noah’s way unless it’s important.

“Does Noah know that we’re sharing?” You fold your arms over your chest, staring at your best friend.

Matt chuckles. “More than aware, he actually seemed fine with it.” Your eyebrow raises in surprise and he laughs. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You watch Matt retreat to his room and get to work pulling your pyjamas out from your suitcase, locking yourself in the bathroom to get ready for what you now know is going to be a hell of a long night.

While brushing your teeth you hear someone shuffle into the bedroom and you groan internally. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, you gather your discarded clothes from the day and take a deep breath before opening the en-suite door.

Noah is lying spread eagle on the bed, wearing a pair of basketball shorts with no top, scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence when you put your things back into your suitcase. You roll your eyes, grabbing your book to sit in the window seat across from the bed for a while, quietly reading to yourself. The silence is thick and you can hear his heavy breathing, distracting you from your book.

Your eyes flick from the dark romance novel to the man on the bed, eyes trailing over the expanses of ink that cover his toned skin and you feel heat pooling in your core.

”Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” His voice breaks you out of your trance and your eyes flick back to the words on the page.

You scoff. “I wasn’t staring, you just breathe really loud and it’s pissing me off.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart.”

The sound of movement reaches your ears but you daren’t look at him, lifting the book higher to hide your red face. Suddenly the novel is snatched from your hands and you scramble to grab it back from him.

”Heartless Heathens?” He hums, holding the book out of your reach as he reads the blurb then flicks through a couple of pages, eyes widening. “Jesus, Y/N. I didn’t realise you were into this kinky shit.”

Your face is tomato red, burning hot as you try to wrestle the book from his hands.

“Noah give me my book back!”

All he does is laugh, eyes flicking back and forth as he reads the page I had bookmarked. “Oh my god! ‘Does that tight pussy hurt when my fat cock stretches it out like this?’ Wow…”

His dark eyes meet yours and you squeeze them shut out of embarrassment, hiding your face with your hands.

”You like that shit, huh?” You can hear the amusement in his voice as steps forward, throwing the book down on the window seat. You want the ground to swallow you up when you feel him staring down at you.

You huff, removing your hands from your face. “Loads of people do, it’s just a book.”

“I mean, do you like that stuff? Guys talking to you like that in bed? Asking you if it hurts when they stretch you out on their cock?”

You laugh, he’s joking right? You look up at him and your mouth goes dry when you see his dark eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

”I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t been with anyone for a couple of years, I don’t really have the time.”

Noah looks taken aback at your words and his lips turn up into a smirk. “A pretty girl like you? Surely you have guys begging for a chance in every state we visit.”

You chortle, crossing your arms. “Unlike most guys, I don’t need sex.”

He scoffs, picking the book back up. “So you just read this casually?”

”Most of the time.”

”And the rest of the time?”

The hot flush returns to your cheeks, reaching the tips of your ears. “That’s none of your business.”

He starts to flick through the pages again, humming as he reads. “Can I take a guess?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, go ahead.” You throw yourself down onto the bed, sitting against the headboard as he paces, reading.

“I think you like this Corvin guy most, I can imagine you getting all hot and bothered when you read his parts and you can’t help but find yourself fingerfucking yourself in your bunk when everyone is asleep.” His head tilts when he stops to look at you, his eyes searching for the telltale signs of your arousal, grinning when he sees your thighs clench together. “Am I correct?”

You shake your head in disbelief. What’s his game and why is he trying to get under your skin over some book. Your underwear feels damp from the wetness that is pooling at your core from his words and you have to stop yourself from lunging at him, to either punch him or kiss him…you’re unsure which one would be more satisfying.

”C’mon Y/N, tell me.” He sits next to you, pointing at a section where the main character is riding Corvin. “Is this what you get off to?”

You feel all too hot and bothered with him sitting next to you with his shirt off, tattooed skin taunting you as he tries to coerce the secrets of your alone time out of you.

”If I wasn’t in here right now is that what you’d be doing? Getting off over your little dark romance book?”

”What’s your deal Noah? Why do you want to know about all this?” You sit up straighter and he lounges back, eyeing you humorously.

He shrugs. “It’s just cute that you read this horny stuff. I never took you as the type to get riled up by it, is all.”

”You’d be surprised.” You mumble and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

”You read worse?”

”Oh shut up, Noah. It’s just dumb fiction, why are we even still talking about this?”

He turns to his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes burning into the side of your head. “Because I can tell how hot and bothered you are right now and it’s kind of sexy, I must admit.”

You gulp at his words, staring straight ahead in a conscious effort not to look at him or all of your resolve might falter.

”So tell me, were you so pissed about having to share this room because you wanted some special alone time tonight with your little smut novel?”

You can feel his smirk and the tension in the room thickens, turning into a storm cloud of lust.

”You can still do it, you know.”

Your eyes finally dart to his smug face and your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He shrugs casually. “You can still get yourself off, I could read to you if you want?”

Your swallow thickly, your core throbbing at his words. “No, that’s weird.”

Noah chuckles. “Masturbation isn’t we-“

”I fucking know that! What’s weird is you’re my boss and you’re offering to read to me while I make myself cum. Do you hear yourself?”

You can’t lie to yourself, the offer is almost too tempting. It’s not fair that the most attractive man you know is basically offering to help you get your rocks off but he hates you right? He’s always so moody and weird around you. Why is he being like this?

He sits up, scooting closer so your shoulders are touching and he leans close to your ear, his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. “Or I could tell you every wicked little fantasy I’ve had about you since you waltzed into the studio with Matt all those years back.’

Your eyebrows raise and you turn to him, his mouth just inches from yours. “You fantasise about me?”

He laughs, a smug sound that makes you want to punch him. “Oh yeah, my favourite is the one where I get to bend you over and rip apart those fishnets you love to wear, the ones with the lace flowers on.” His eyes darken as he reminisces over the lewd thoughts and your mind wanders.

How would it feel to have his hands all over you, tearing away those expensive tights that you adore? How would it feel to have him buried to the hilt inside you as he pushes your head into whatever surface he can find? Fuck its all too much.

”Noah, we shouldn’t talk about this stuff.” You try to reason with yourself but your resolve quickly disappears when his long inked finger trails up the bare skin of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your silky black pyjama shorts.

“Why? We’re both adults.” He smiles almost innocently.

”Because you don’t like me.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Since when? Didn’t I just tell you that I literally think about how I want to bend you over?”

You roll your eyes. “You literally talk to me like shit the majority of the time.”

”I like watching you squirm.” His smile is cocky and it only sends more electricity to your core because he’s right, he does make you squirm and you like it too.

A lust filled silence lingers in the air as he stares into your eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips.

”So do you still want to get yourself off, I’d love to watch.” He cocks an eyebrow and there it is, the last of your resolve leaving out the window.

”Fine.”

He’s like a kid in a candy shop when he sits up, watching you lie down on the bed. Your heart hammers in your chest as you close your eyes, trying to pretend he isn’t there. You slide the silk shorts down your legs, leaving the black lace thong on and your hand travels over the soft fabric, running over the damp patch that is only getting bigger.

You gasp when you slide your hand between the fabric, fingers slipping between your slick folds, easily finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that's been begging to be touched since you walked out of the bathroom to find Noah sprawled out shirtless on the bed. Oh how you wanted to just climb on top of him, to sink down on his cock like you owned him.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips when you circle your clit, slowly teasing yourself to the images of Noah’s cock buried deep inside your cunt. You feel him shift next to you to get a better look at your movements, how your fingers move under the dark lace of your panties. You hear him take a shaky breath and it sends shockwaves to your sensitive core.

“Does that feel good?” His voice is deep, coarse in your ear and you whine out a confirmation, moving your fingers faster over your clit. “God, you don’t know how good you sound. Do you like it when I talk to you?”

”Y-yes.” You sigh and he chuckles.

”Such a good girl.” He whispers, breath tickling your ear. “Do you want me to tell you what to do, huh? Do you want to be good for me and remove your underwear so I can see how you touch that pretty little pussy? God, I bet it’s so perfect.”

You whimper, using your spare hand to push the lace down your thighs, kicking them off as you toy with yourself. Noah leans forward, a hand landing on your thigh to pull your legs further apart and a feral groan leaves his throat when you spread yourself open for him to see just how wet you are, fingers covered in wet slick.

”Oh fuck, you look so good sweetheart. Show me how you bury those pretty fingers in there.”

You push two fingers into your core, the wet sound reaching your ears. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. You hear Noah’s breathing quicken as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, soft moans leaving your bitten lips.

”Doing so fucking well for me.” The praise feels like heaven when it meets your ears and you speed up, curling your fingers upwards. “Fuck, what I would do to bury my own fingers inside you.”

”Please.” You whine, opening your eyes to look at him, your breath coming out in pants when his lust blown eyes meet yours.

“Please what?” He smirks, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear as you find your clit again, rubbing your soaked fingers over the sensitive bud.

“I need your fingers inside me, please.” You’re so fucking needy and you can tell how much he gets off on it by how his smirk grows into a cruel grin and he holds his fingers against your plump lips.

”Are you gonna suck them for me? Get them nice and wet like the good little slut you are?” Your eyes roll back at his words and he gasps when your tongue swirls around the calloused pads of his fingers, soaking them with your saliva.

He pushes two long fingers into your warm mouth and you hollow your cheeks around them, staring up at him with innocent eyes that make his aching cock strain against his shorts. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and trails them down the valley of your clothed chest, down your navel to where your own fingers are still toying with your clit. Your eyes follow and your hand moves, giving him full access to where you need him most.

”You gonna watch me fuck you with my fingers huh?” He smiles sweetly, sliding his fingers up and down your drenched folds teasingly.

You nod, leaning up on your elbows to watch his slender fingers disappear between your folds, rubbing tight circles around your clit and you gasp his name, your mouth falling open at the immense pleasure. He chuckles, sliding them to your entrance to gather the wetness that pools there, moving back to your clit to play with it all too slowly.

”Please Noah.” You whine and he tuts.

”Be patient, I’ll get there. I want a better look.”

He moves to lie between your legs, pushing your legs further apart to get a good look at your glistening cunt. You can feel his breath hot against you and you could just cum right there without him even touching you, especially with how he looks up at you through those long lashes, eyes black and predatory like he wants to eat you whole.

“You’ve got such a perfect pussy, fuck.” He groans, pushes his long middle finger in, the dark ink disappearing inch by inch inside your cunt and you moan louder than expected, your hand flying to your mouth to keep yourself quiet. “Fuck, it feels so good, so soft.”

A second finger joins the first and he slowly curls them, finding that spot that leaves you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back, your head lolling back on your shoulders. His spare hand grips your inner thigh with a bruising hold and you're sure there will be bruises there tomorrow but you don’t mind, it feels like heaven.

”My mouth is so close to your pussy I can practically taste you.” He growls and your hips buck, pushing his fingers even deeper inside you. He chuckles darkly. “Do you want me to taste you?”

You sob, nodding enthusiastically.

”Use your words, pretty girl.” He hums, kissing your pelvic bone.

”Please taste me.”

He hums, his hot tongue dragging over your folds before his lips close around your clit, leaving you gobsmacked from how fucking good his tongue feels against you with his fingers fucking into you.

You’re close, you can feel that tightness building in your lower abdomen, so fucking close. His fingers curl faster, his tongue lapping over your clit like you’re the last water source on Earth and you’re falling. Your legs shake, a feral groan leaving your lips as your orgasm rips through your body like a fucking tornado. His fingers only move faster as his lips leave your sensitive clit and you're tipping over the edge again just as quickly, gushing around his fingers and the bed sheets below.

”Fuck, good girl!” He grins, lapping your sweet nectar from your thighs. “Think you’ve got another?”

You have no time to protest, he rises to slide between your thighs, fingers still buried deep inside your cunt as he stares down at you, curling them fast exactly where he knows he can drag another orgasm from you. His free hand covers your mouth when you cum again, screaming into his palm, soaking the front of his shorts where his leaking cock strains against them.

”Good fucking girl, well done!” He kisses your forehead, pulling his drenched hand away from your sensitive core to suck his fingers clean.

You stare at him in bewilderment when he smiles down at you. You’re in shock at how much you just came for a man you thought hated you half an hour ago.

”I think I need to catch you reading more.” He chuckles.

”Shut the fuck up.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into a searing kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“So you two didn’t kill each other last night?” Matt smirks when you make your way downstairs in the morning, wearing one of Noah’s shirts with him freshly showered following behind you.

Folio storms past, looking a little worse for wear. “I would’ve preferred it if they did, I need to bleach my ears.” He groans, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

You blush bright red, throwing a grape at the drummer and Noah wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into his lap.

”Guess my plan worked then.” Matt chuckles, popping a grape in his mouth with a grin.

[apomaro-mellow]

I'm finally starting it, the full-fledge version of my king eldritch abomination!eddie and prince steve ficlet series. Eddie is in the middle of a feud with an opposing kingdom. Running out of options, he decides to kidnap their prince. Part 1/?

Dark clouds descended over the castle. It had been raining for days. A fact that the king was certain had everything to do with the monster that made their home in the neighboring kingdom. Alric prided himself on being a successful monarch. His lineage was the stuff of legends. But there was one blemish on the Harrington name. And it was that none so far had been able to best the beast that lived on the horizon.

It was an unfortunate state that his land shared a border with that of a King Edward. He wasn’t a man, he was a…a creature. A thing with many voices and many faces that masqueraded as a mortal human.

If there was one thing Alric could do to seal his name in the annals of history, it was wiping that entire place and all its inhabitants off the face of the map.

Such a thing was easier said than done. As much steel and iron as his armory possessed, the monsters were numerous. 

“Increase the patrols. I want eyes on every inch of the border”, he ordered.

“Do we have enough men for that? Recruitment has been low”, the prince said.

An amendment to a previous statement. There was a second blemish on the Harrington family. And his name was Steven. His son, who did nothing but sleep with whatever girl looked his way. Complacent and unambitious. The rare day he was allowing the disappointment to join in on the session with his war council and he was speaking out of turn.

“You would do best to watch your tongue”, Alric said.

Steve turned his head down, deferring to his father. He was good at one thing at least. Obedience. He looked down to the map again, pacing about it, trying to think of where best to send his men to quell what was surely a slow uprising.

“He is right, my liege. We can’t afford to send more men to the borders. This year’s crop of squires hasn’t met expectations.”

Alric glared at anyone who dared to disagree with him, even if they were right. But the reasoning of the lack of bodies would give him an excuse to do what he’s been wanting to for a while. It wasn’t enough to kill the monsters that inched along the border. It was time to officially go on the offensive.

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

The rain coming down wasn’t by anyone’s hand but nature’s. You couldn’t tell a Harrington that though. They were stubborn as mules. He knew this quite well. King Edward had been ruling his realm for long enough that he had been dealing with Alric and his father and his father’s father. All who saw him and his people as only pests to be exterminated. 

He could look past the odd villager slaying one of the demogorgans when they came into a town looking for an easy meal. That was simply self defense. But as of recently King Alric had begun sending soldiers into his forests to start seeking out any beasts and ending them on their own ground.

In response, Eddie used his powers to erect a thorny barrier. Anyone who wanted to enter his kingdom from that side would have to struggle through a dense bramble. It would be difficult for soldiers on horseback to get through. This sort of back and forth continued for months. Alric would sent more people, despite the harsh terrain, never caring for the champions he lost. The border would be strengthened to try and keep him out and he would just find another way in.

Eddie was losing his patience with the man and the straw that broke the camel’s back was when a messenger arrived with news of what happened to one of the towns close to the border.

“My lord! It’s terrible!”, the messenger bellowed as he crashed into the throne room.

“What is it?”, Eddie asked, concern showing through his voice and face.

“King Alric’s men! They’ve-! They’ve-!”

They had trespassed the line once again but this time they didn’t go attack a nest of demodogs. No, it seemed for this visit they saw fit to lay waste to a township of innocent civilians. They hadn’t slain a single monster. Only people.

It was practically a declaration of war. 

“This can’t go on”, Jeff, one of his most trusted knights said when he heard the news.

“And it won’t”, Eddie promised. He was going to have some words with this tyrant. If he could avoid war, he would. But Eddie had a feeling if they ever got into the same room, he would kill him.

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

Alric barely gave the sealed envelope a glance before tossing it into the fire. Steve shot up from the chair he’d been sitting in. 

“What are you doing?! King Edward has finally sent a correspondence. Don’t you want to talk with him?”

“Steven! Don’t raise your voice at your father”, his mother, Juliana, scolded. “He knows what he’s doing.”

At the queen’s stern look, Steve sat back down. After speaking his mind in the war room, Steve hadn’t been allowed back. The privileges normally afforded to a crown prince, coming to the meetings, providing his own insight were taken from him. He didn’t want to think about what else would be taken if he kept speaking his mind. But this couldn’t be the right way of doing things. After shedding blood, the opposing monarch was trying to talk.

And his father was just ignoring it.

“That letter was most certainly just the incomprehensible scratch of an illiterate”, his father spat. “He wears the face of a man but that is not what he is.”

Steve ventured a question. “Then what is he?”, he asked quietly.

Alric stared intensely at the fire. “He is an abomination. Borne of the dark void which sucks all light and warmth from this world.”

“He can change his shape. That is why he is so dangerous”, Juliana added. “It is why he must be stopped.”

Steve understood that. He had heard the stories, which at this point were legends. One day, something had risen from a black pool and no one knew what it was. But it was powerful. Powerful enough to conjure up more from the black pool. More that were like it. Able to use the muck to make walls rise from the ground.

King Edward and fought with his great grandfather, which was how the border existed in the first place. He had fought his grandfather, which was why beasts like the demogorgan kept sentry at his borders. And now it was happening again.

Alric ignored every single letter that came, determined not to speak or negotiate. In the mean time, he continued to send squads to attack at towns and villages, stoking the other king’s ire. -----------------------------

Eddie was once again, meeting with his council, squatting in his chair while their voices rose in volume. Each one angry and hurt and wanting to finally bite back. Eddie thought that this time he could choose peace. That this time he could get away without fighting. But it appeared wise old Alric was ready for a war.

“SILENCE!”, Eddie shouted while slamming his hands on the table. All conversation ceased. He rubbed at his face. “We have one last step before waging a war that could kill more than it saves.”

“And what’s that?”, Gareth asked.

Eddie rose to stand on his chair, then stepped onto the table that held a map of both of their lands. “If Harrington won’t sit down with us well then”, he stalked over to the pieces on the table that represented the royal family. He plucked up the one that was meant for the prince. “We’ll make him sit down.”

Part 2

[ceruleancattail]

@twisted-up-in-wonderland REPLYING TO YOUR POST HERE BECAUSE I DON’T WANNA CLUTTER THE DUNGEON MESHI ART’S REBLOGS WITH MY RAMBLES URM

The girlie’s Falin from Dungeon Meshi /Delicious in Dungeon! She’s not a siren, unfortunately. She’s a chimera, originally a human. It’s a banger series, go read/watch it if you can!

But Vil being a Siren, like I see you. I SEE YOU. If no one got me I know you got me 🤝🤝 modern creature aus have me in a chokehold, like Vil’s newest card like hello????? HELLO?????? MAN IS SLAYING, HE IS OFF THE CHARTS, GOING TO LEVELS OF SERVING NO MAN HAS EVER GONE BEFORE

Very normal about him trust me believe me-

Siren Vil who’s adapted to modern society, for the better or for the worse. The star of every show he acts in, stealing the stage with that enchanting voice of his. Although that’s not to say he’s a one-trick-pony. His voice isn’t his only weapon in stardom.

Vil studies acting as an art form, using his very own body as the canvas. Every step, every minuscule change in his expression is all perfectly calculated, delicate strokes of paint done with deft fingers.

He has this air of dignified elegance, on and off camera. A trail of emerald green feathers trailing after him, the robe of a queen. There’s something startling about the eyes rest on the fluff is his feathers, you could have sworn they seem to follow you when you move. Careful, don’t step on them.

Vil hasn’t exactly forgotten how to bite.

But Peacock Siren Vil who’s grown a little attached to you. His adorable assistant, rushing around all in a flutter to get Vil where he needs to be. He simply just adores the way your brows frown in concentration when you pour over his schedule, arranging appointments on his behalf.

He’ll tap the centre of your brow lightly, giving you a small smile. Relax a little, or the lines will stay.

Peacock Siren Vil who doesn’t let anyone but you handle his tail. Brushing them gently, straightening out every feather. It’s a sort of break, for both of you. Just sitting beside each other, enjoying the company. Vil talks to you. Aimless chatter, about the weather, about what’s going on, about the latest movie. It’s a time for him to destress, for his shoulders to loosen.

Likewise, brushing Vil’s tail serves as a kind of self-care for you. It lets your mind rest, only focusing on the repeated motion of going back and forth. You do talk to Vil as well, about random points of your day, stories you’ve heard, maybe pepper him with a few questions, as well. He listens, answering whatever he can with a soft smile dancing on his lips.

It’s a time for both of you to relax and unwind in each other’s company. Vil isn’t too sure about how you feel about it, but he does look forward to these little quiet moments every day.

He doesn’t have to be Vil Schoenheit the breathtaking siren, the upcoming grand star when he’s alone with you.

He’s just Vil, the man hopelessly in love with you.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Take My Hand, We'll Be Fine (Promise I Won't Let You Down)

A/N: did you really think I could go all of @sjmromanceweek without posting some Nessian? I just think there's no better romantic gesture than telling your hot neighbor to dump her piece of shit boyfriend, ya know? 😉 Special shout-out to @dustjacketmusings for giving me this prompt!

Read on AO3

They’re fighting again.

Cassian swipes up his television remote from his coffee table, muting the game currently playing. He doesn’t even need to prick his ears or listen closely to make out the muffled voices filtering through the wall to his right. Doesn’t need to try hard to recognize the rough, clipped voice and the more feminine, cool tone that answers. He can’t quite make out the words being said, but it’s easy enough to guess. It doesn’t help that this is practically the norm for the apartment next to his.

He still remembers the first time he met his next door neighbor, Nesta Archeron, the day she moved in. Even in that moment, even with her hair messy, her cheeks pink, and a large box hefted in her arms, she had been the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen in his life. Her face was all sharp, beautiful lines, high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. Her eyes had been a stormy, piercing blue that had enraptured him as soon as their gazes met. Her pretty pink lips twisting into a scowl had him wanting to drop to his knees right there in the hall, fire blazing through his chest to meet that expression.

Could anyone really blame him for being a goner from that moment on?

He’d found any and every excuse to see her again, to talk to her again. Casual run-ins in the hall, in the lobby. Getting the mail at the same time. Going down to the laundry room at the same time. Anything to see her roll her eyes at him. To see her give that expression that he’s deemed her I Will Slay My Enemies look. Anything for the game of back and forth he built with her full of quips and retorts that always leave him wanting more.

Anything to see her smile. To hear that beautiful breathy melody of her laugh. To watch the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. To catch that softness that takes over when she talks about her friends or her family. Every tiny piece she hands over Cassian tucks away close to his heart. And every interaction, no matter how small, no matter how much time passes in between, leaves him yearning for more.

And he’s learned a lot about Nesta through those interactions. He learned that she has two sisters, one who lives in the city and another who lives in the countryside. He learned she’s a damn good lawyer and definitely his first call if he ever needs to be bailed out of jail. He learned that she’s a terrible cook and has a serious affinity for ordering takeout most nights. He learned that she has a serious book addiction if the endless bookstore packages are any indication.

And he learned that she has the worst boyfriend Cassian has ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Cassian still isn’t sure how Tomas was able to get a woman as beautiful and as amazing as Nesta to agree to a single date with his sorry ass, let alone agree to be his girlfriend. The bastard clearly doesn’t know what he has, how lucky he is. That a woman like Nesta Archeron is incomparable. And yet, Cassian has seen the way his eyes have wandered to the blonde in 4C’s ass. Has witnessed the unimpressed, bored expression he wears when Nesta is speaking. Has heard the unnecessarily rude and sometimes cruel words he flings carelessly at Nesta.

The last one in particular always has Cassian’s blood boiling, dark tendrils constricting through his chest until he’s glaring daggers at the man in question any time he sees him in the apartment building. He wishes he and Nesta were more than just neighbors just so he could tell her what a piece of shit her boyfriend is. Wishes it wouldn’t be weird if he suggested she dump him.

He wishes he could tell her how he really feels, how he swears he’s already falling for her despite their limited interactions. How he fears that there will never be anyone else for him. Wishes he could show her what it’s like to be with a real man, one who respects her. One who genuinely cares about her and isn’t afraid to show her, to shout it from the rooftops. He’d treat her right, treat her so much better than Tomas ever could.

A door slams next door, and Cassian is on his feet in a moment. He glances around his apartment, looking for something he can quickly grab as an excuse. The last time he had heard a crash come from next door, his worry and concern had consumed him enough to send him propelling out of his own apartment and banging his fist against Nesta’s door. But things had been awkward and tense when Nesta answered the door seemingly alright, and when Tomas demanded to know what he was doing, Cassian had ended up stumbling over his words, too distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes swimming with questions. So this time, Cassian ties off his half full trash bag and hauls it up out of the bin.

“Will you hurry up?” Tomas’s voice reaches Cassian as he yanks open his front door. “You know that I don’t like to be late to Sullivan’s, or else we won’t get the best seats at the bar.”

“Maybe if we went to a proper restaurant where you can make a reservation instead of the same dive bar every week, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Nesta answers him, and even before he lays eyes on her, Cassian can perfectly picture the way she must be rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you didn’t take so long doing your stupid fucking hair–”

Tomas’s words trail off when he notices Cassian standing in his now open doorway. Already, the man looks annoyed at his presence, jaw clenching with a restraint scowl. The sight has an easy smirk tugging up Cassian’s lips, how fast he’s able to garner such a reaction, but he only has eyes for Nesta.

She has on a short, dark blue dress, black flower lace overlaid on the silky fabric. Black heeled boots further elongate her legs and the skin on display, the tantalizing lines of her collarbones highlighted by the dress’s neckline. Her hair is styled in her preferred braided crown, but a few strands curl around her temples and frame her face, and Cassian knows he’d give anything to curl one of those strands around his finger. With the pink dusted across her cheeks and mascara heightening the icy blue of her eyes, he has to swallow hard and clear his throat before finding his voice again, struck dumb by the beauty of her in front of him.

“Nesta,” Cassian greets, finally flicking his gaze back to the other man in the hall. “Tommy.”

“It’s Tomas,” Tomas snaps back, his sneer only deepening when Cassian shrugs in response. “What are you even doing?”

Cassian’s smile is all mocking and teeth, holding up the trash back in his hands. “Just taking out the trash. Maybe Nesta should consider doing the same.”

Whether Tomas understands the double meaning or not, Cassian doesn’t get a chance to find out. Nesta steps forward, linking her arm with her boyfriend’s with a quiet, murmured reminder that they’re running late. They continue down the hall, Cassian watching them until they vanish around the corner, until he hears the quiet ding of the elevator.

He closes his front door with a soft sigh, glancing consideringly back toward his television still playing the game, but then an idea hits him. It’s a risk, most definitely stupid, but maybe he’s always been a bit reckless. Rushing back toward his living room, Cassian grabs his phone where he left it, opening up the text chain with his family.

Anyone down for drinks tonight? Found a new bar we should try

~ * * * ~

Sullivan’s isn’t much to write home about as far as bars go. Posters and photos litter almost every free inch of space on the walls, a pool table set up to the right, and round high top tables and bar stools arranged around the rest of the space. The bar juts out from the wall in the center of the room, bottles lining the shelves. It may be the nicest dive bar Cassian has ever set foot in, but it’s still a dive bar, the stench of beer and sweat heavy.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Azriel sighs from Cassian’s right.

Cassian turns toward his brother, but Azriel’s attention is elsewhere. When Cassian follows his gaze, he finds Nesta and Tomas sitting at one of the high top tables. Her back is ramrod straight, fingers curled tightly around the glass of wine sitting primly in front of her, but Tomas doesn’t seem to notice. He sips casually from a beer bottle, his attention focused more on the patrons around him.

“Isn’t that your neighbor?” Mor pipes up from Cassian’s left. “The one you’re in love with?”

“Is Nesta here?” Cassian asks innocently, refusing to meet either Azriel or Mor’s gaze. “What are the odds of that?”

“If I’m playing wingman tonight, you owe me so many drinks,” Azriel grumbles with a shake of his head.

“Drinks on Cassian?” Mor teases, looping her arm with Azriel’s and dragging him toward the bar. “I like the sound of that. Let’s order all top shelf.”

Cassian rolls his eyes good naturedly, but he follows behind his family, buying the first round of drinks after all. He lets Azriel and Mor get settled, lets them chat about their respective weeks and jobs, and all the while, he stares across the bar at Nesta and Tomas. He doesn’t understand how anyone can sit across from Nesta Archeron and ignore her. How they can want to do anything other than bask in her presence. How they could care more about a freshly out of college girl clearly working the pool table just for free drinks.

“So, I need a favor,” Cassian begins, interjecting into the conversation swirling around him.

“I’m surprised you waited this long,” Azriel remarks dryly.

“Very funny,” Cassian fires back, turning his attention to Mor and offering the blonde his best, most winning smile. “I need you to go flirt with that guy over there.”

“Seriously, Cass?” Mor huffs, her face exasperated.

“Please? I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night. The best wine they have. However many glasses you want. Especially if you can somehow make an accident happen that gets him away from the table.”

Mor narrows her eyes, scrutinizing him, her eyes dancing briefly toward the table across the bar. “This Nesta better be worth it.”

“Trust me,” Cassian assures her quietly, unable to stop from smiling. “She is.”

Cassian isn’t sure what Mor sees on his face, but her expression softens. She rolls her eyes fondly and swipes up her glass of wine, slipping off her bar stool. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strides her way over to Nesta and Tomas, plastering on a wide, flirtatious smile. It’s certainly entertaining for Cassian, watching his friend work. She twirls the blonde strands of hair around her fingers, places her hand on Tomas’s arm, makes a big show of laughing loudly at whatever is said. It would almost be comical if Tomas wasn’t eating up every second.

“Come on, Mor,” Cassian mumbles under his breath. “Hurry it up, already.”

“You really need all the help you can get, don’t you?” Azriel sighs, setting his now finished drink on the bartop.

Azriel steps around Cassian and heads toward the table as well. He makes eye contact with Mor, some sort of silent agreement passing between the two, and then Azriel is walking behind her. His arm brushes along her back, Mor’s cue to fake stumbling forward a step, her half full glass of wine spilling right across Tomas’s shirt and pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tomas’s voice carries even to where Cassian is sitting. “Do you have any idea how expensive this shirt is?”

Tomas storms off toward the bathrooms, Mor hot on his heels and offering overly innocent apologies. She winks at Cassian as they pass, and Cassian has to stifle a laugh into his hand to keep Tomas from noticing him. One last glance to make sure Tomas is gone and the coast is clear, and Cassian wastes no time cutting his way across the bar and sliding into the now vacated seat across from Nesta.

“Some date, huh?” Cassian jokes lightly, Nesta’s attention snapping to him.

“Cassian… what are you doing here?”

Despite the question, Cassian swears he sees Nesta’s shoulders start to relax from where they’re pitched up near her ears, swears he sees what looks suspiciously like relief flood through her eyes. He lets it fuel the hope swarming and twisting in his gut, the warmth blooming between his ribs and tightening around his heart like a golden thread. He knows he could easily play the whole thing off as a coincidence, shrug the question away with mentions of his family and their drinking habits.

But he knew the gamble he was taking by crashing Nesta’s date tonight, and maybe, this is his chance. His chance to show Nesta just how much she already means to him. To prove to her that he can treat her better.

“Your boyfriend sucks,” Cassian says rather than answer her question.

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, eyebrows pinching slightly. “What?”

“Tomas. He sucks ass, and you should absolutely dump him. I’m serious, Nes. You deserve so much better than his sorry excuse.”

“You seem quite sure of that, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. I might not have known you very long, but I know that you’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re witty and passionate, and you care so much about your sisters and your friends. And you deserve someone who cherishes you. You can do so much better than that piece of shit.”

Cassian’s words hang in the space between them, the rest of the bar fading away into nothing until it’s just him and her and the sparks and electricity charging the air around them. Nesta stares at him like she’s never seen him before, like no one’s ever said things like that to her before. It sends cracks ricocheting like icy claws through his chest. Especially, when Nesta drops her gaze away from him, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

It leaves him wanting to find whoever in her past has her unsure, wanting to go track down where Tomas has vanished to and punch him in the face for making her curl into herself. It makes his determination to show her what it could be like harden even more, makes him want to spend the rest of his life properly cherishing her if she’ll let him.

“I don’t know about all that,” Nesta offers, her voice quiet.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Cassian asks instead, reaching his hand across the table and skating his fingertips across the back of Nesta’s hand, drawing her attention fully back to him.

Nesta sighs softly. “Cassian—”

“Let me prove it to you. Prove what it could be like, should be like. Prove what a good date is. Prove that I’d treat you better.”

Nesta thinks about it for a moment, emotions flitting through those blue eyes faster than Cassian can decipher. But then Nesta is slipping out of her seat and grabbing her purse, turning away from him. Cassian’s heart sinks through his feet and the floor, and it takes all his willpower to keep his disappointment off his face as he watches her.

“One date,” Nesta tells him, looking back at him expectantly.

“One date is all I need, sweetheart,” Cassian assures her, jumping out of his own seat. “Now, let’s get out of here before Tomas realizes what’s hit him.”

Cassian grabs Nesta’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and leading her out of the bar. Her hand feels right in his, his fingers curled around her own, their palms pressed together, and Cassian knows in that moment that he has no intention of ever letting go again. He uses his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket, working quickly to get everything ready, to make everything perfect for this opportunity, but he’s still nervous by the time they arrive at their destination.

Nesta’s steps pause as she glances around them. “Our one date is going to be at our apartment complex?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Cassian asks, holding open the door for her.

“You sure are asking a lot for this one date.”

“And the night is still young.”

Cassian offers her a wink for extra good measure, earning a laugh from Nesta in return. The sound is light and easy, the melody wrapping around Cassian’s limbs as surely as it wraps around his heart. It might just be his favorite sound, the way her blue eyes light up along with the reaction his favorite sight, and he can’t wait to draw even more laughs out of her.

He leads the way back up to their floor, all of the paper and plastic bags he expects waiting right outside his apartment door. He sends up a silent prayer to the Mother in thanks that so far everything is going to plan.

“What’s all this?” Nesta asks, eying the bags as well.

“Well, I noticed you order a lot of takeout,” Cassian explains, gathering up the different bags and unlocking his apartment door.

Nesta scoffs even as she steps inside and into his apartment. “Are you judging me for being a terrible cook?”

“Never. I’ll have you know I actually love to cook, so we’re a good pair, but I didn’t really have time to prepare anything tonight, so I figured I’d order everything I’ve worked out to be your favorites based on what you seem to order the most,” Cassian explains, setting all the bags down on his kitchen counter and beginning to pull the different containers out. “Crab rangoon from Bar Bao. Butter chicken and basmati from Urban Tandoor. Garlic breadsticks and ravioli from Tony’s. California rolls from Black Dragon. And triple chocolate cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.”

Nesta is silent, staring wide-eyed at all the food, at him, so Cassian turns to grab plates just to give his hands something to do. When she still hasn’t said anything, he clears his throat awkwardly, pushing a hand up and through his hair.

“So…” Cassian starts, handing a plate over to Nesta. “What do you think?”

“I think you might just get a second date after all.”

—

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[vickyvicarious]

“I made a mistake, Kemp, a huge mistake, in carrying this thing through alone. I have wasted strength, time, opportunities. Alone—it is wonderful how little a man can do alone! To rob a little, to hurt a little, and there is the end. “What I want, Kemp, is a goal-keeper, a helper, and a hiding-place, an arrangement whereby I can sleep and eat and rest in peace, and unsuspected. I must have a confederate. With a confederate, with food and rest—a thousand things are possible. “Hitherto I have gone on vague lines. We have to consider all that invisibility means, all that it does not mean. It means little advantage for eavesdropping and so forth—one makes sounds. It’s of little help—a little help perhaps—in housebreaking and so forth. Once you’ve caught me you could easily imprison me. But on the other hand I am hard to catch. This invisibility, in fact, is only good in two cases: It’s useful in getting away, it’s useful in approaching. It’s particularly useful, therefore, in killing. I can walk round a man, whatever weapon he has, choose my point, strike as I like. Dodge as I like. Escape as I like.” Kemp’s hand went to his moustache. Was that a movement downstairs? “And it is killing we must do, Kemp.” “It is killing we must do,” repeated Kemp. “I’m listening to your plan, Griffin, but I’m not agreeing, mind. Why killing?” “Not wanton killing, but a judicious slaying. The point is, they know there is an Invisible Man—as well as we know there is an Invisible Man. And that Invisible Man, Kemp, must now establish a Reign of Terror. Yes; no doubt it’s startling. But I mean it. A Reign of Terror. He must take some town like your Burdock and terrify and dominate it. He must issue his orders. He can do that in a thousand ways—scraps of paper thrust under doors would suffice. And all who disobey his orders he must kill, and kill all who would defend them.”

There's so much going on in this conversation. First, the obvious irony of Griffin telling Kemp how he understands now that he needs a helper he can trust, while Kemp is trying to ensure he gets caught in the next few minutes. Griffin saying that he will be easily imprisoned once caught but that he's hard to catch, as Kemp frets over whether they will be able to catch him now. That's pretty obvious, and both funny and also sad. It's perfectly understandable for Kemp to want Griffin to be caught even before he talks about this plan, but it sucks that Griffin's sincerity is just completely bouncing off him. Griffin is for the first time trying to make a connection with someone (something that could potentially turn this situation around) but he's been rejected from the start.

But there's also... what is Griffin talking about? This goes from 'yeah, Griffin, you shouldn't be going it alone' to 'no Griffin not like that holy shit' real damn fast. And it's really interesting in the context of the rest of his behavior, because... this really doesn't seem to match it throughout most of the book so far.

Griffin has used plenty of violence before now. He defaults to threats or physical harm when he feels too vulnerable or powerless. But while he's been reckless and careless with it, there has never really been premeditated malice to anything he does. He's not scheming evil upon others. He's mostly reacting, again, often in what seems a kind of panic. When he gets most violent, at least. He has done harmful things with forethought, but those are mostly limited to theft, and are informed by selfishness and a lack of consideration/awareness of potential consequences.

He also has been consistently motivated by curing his invisibility. He wants his resources back, and privacy/freedom to work in order to do just that. He very quickly decided making himself invisible was a shortsighted mistake, as he encountered drawback after drawback in the immediate aftermath. He also wasn't motivated by any particular single goal of seizing power when he made himself invisible. He was deeply depressed and clinging to 'seeing it through', and then panicked when he came into conflict with his landlord. His paranoia about his invention was intense, but that too is linked to him seeking control over his own life, not others' as such.

So then, why this turnaround? Well, last chapter he said this:

"I had one hope. It was a half idea! I have it still. It is a full blown idea now. A way of getting back! Of restoring what I have done. When I choose. When I have done all I mean to do invisibly."

So, now it seems Griffin's motivation has shifted. He no longer wants immediate relief from invisibility. Instead, he wants to do things while invisible first. He wants to establish a Reign of Terror, to take over a town by utilizing his invisibility in the only way he can see it being of practical use: murder and the spreading of fear. But he says that as a 'must' as 'judicious'. So it's still not for the pleasure of it. Then, why?

First, I frankly don't believe Griffin is actually capable of enforcing the kind of siege he describes here. Physically maybe (depending on how unprepared others are), but emotionally I don't think he could keep it up. He'd collapse, he'd succumb to the guilt he clearly does feel at times. When he's not in a constant state of high emotion (largely fear, which with Griffin transitions seamlessly into rage) he wouldn't be able to keep murdering people so coldly and logically. He can of course work himself up over time, and can hold a grudge, which might be enough to get him started enacting this plan, but I don't believe he could see it through all the way. Still enough to do monstrous things, of course, just not enough to be effective at establishing his goal. (And even that shows his typical lack of forethought. Does he think that no one else would help them? That this town would just succumb to him in total isolation?)

But why does he even want it? I think it actually reflects all his same motivations until now. He feels cornered and he reacts badly, lashing out at others. As the rejection builds all around him, as his options dwindle, as his fear and helplessness grow - he consistently reacts by escalating and proving everyone's worst assumptions about him correct. And right now, even though he has found Kemp and thinks he can mostly trust him, it's not enough to make him feel safe. There are lots of people actively hunting him, now. And he can't just stay in Kemp's rooms forever. He would hate the idea, would feel imprisoned. He doesn't think much of stealing from others, but absolutely hates being stolen from (and he has so little, that the loss feels correspondingly huger), especially something like his books which contain the key to freeing him. So being here is a brief reprieve but he's still deeply afraid. And that makes him deeply angry. And so he wants revenge, he wants to punish them (in general, who make him feel afraid - and Marvel in particular, who has 'betrayed' him).

He also quite likely knows even with his idea it will take an unknown but likely significant amount more time to perfect his cure. So even if all he wanted was to be cured, he would need a safe place to work until then. And the tension is so high right now, his fear of being betrayed is so strong, that I don't think he believes it would be possible to do the necessary work unless he has the town cowed under his invisible heel.

“I don’t agree to this, Griffin,” he said. “Understand me, I don’t agree to this. Why dream of playing a game against the race? How can you hope to gain happiness? Don’t be a lone wolf. Publish your results; take the world—take the nation at least—into your confidence. Think what you might do with a million helpers—”

This line is also key. Kemp urges Griffin to confide in others. All his considerations of the usefulness of invisibility were from the perspective of a lone man against a cruel world. Very selfish and very assuming of a hostile environment. This too is reflected in Griffin's treatment of the few people he has reached out to - Marvel and Kemp. In both cases, he seeks understanding and sympathy. But he also seeks it at metaphorical gunpoint, by threatening them with what he could invisibly do to harm them. It's because as much as he may pour out his heart to Kemp here, he doesn't fully trust him. He doesn't fully trust anyone. By collaborating with them, all he is doing is giving them power over him, and that means they have power to hurt him. So instead he clings to his own power to hurt them first.

In Griffin's eyes, there is no such thing as an equal relationship. There is such thing as trust rewarded, or even given freely. And so in order to ensure his own safety he has to be the one in charge. He has to convince Kemp that they will both reap great rewards, he has to be able to hurt him and get away should anything fall through.

It all ties in perfectly with his backstory of being an outsider (albino, not socially adept at all), and being poor (in many ways powerless). And of course, it is such a self-fulfilling prophecy of terrible outcomes. If you only give violence, you're only getting violence in return. Someone has to let their guard down first, someone has to be willing to trust and be vulnerable for things to ever change. But Griffin is convinced that would be a mistake to ever fully do. And as much as I want to tell him he's wrong, his experiences corroborate that view. Everywhere he goes, he's experienced rejection and hate, or nosiness and distrust at best, no matter how much he tries to be on his best behavior. Every time he even partially lets down his guard or reaches out to others, they turn on him. And of course so much of that is because of the way he never fully relaxes, the way he always keeps a threat hanging over their heads, but he's not gonna see that. All he's gonna see is that he's been right all along. That he truly is in this alone. That he has to be selfish and he has to hit first and hit harder because he is outnumbered and if they catch him he won't be able to get away.

[lastwiltedflower]

things written in my notes app during my first watch of hey, melissa this morning

-no one out sleazes ted. get this man OUT! [on Freddie]

-I just know emma despises being put on delivering duty because isn't ccrp like three blocks from beanies... is she walking there with over a dozen orders of coffee?

-bill is the father of ccrp technical department love him for that

-oh where oh where has my greasy sleazeball gone?

-"don't work too hard!" "oh, I won't!" so he's just like me actually

-A REVOLVER? american civil war ass weapon

-Mr. Davidson WTF

-hot. just kidding.... or am I? [on Paul's "defeat" of Freddie in the basement with the belt]

-TEDDY BEAR?

-OH? found greasy sleazeball I guess.

-Catboy Paul Matthews enters the chat?

-Corey and Matt's faces... me too guys

-STOP MEOWING.

-Paul and Ted are so that one tiktok sound with the dog and cat going back and forth melodically

-this is what republicans think middle school bathrooms are like [on that scene that melissa films]

-ENOUGH MEOWING.

-Nick being iconic once again okayy

-Dude is way too horny right now... just leave man

-WOOF WOOF WOOF

-Slay (literally)

-BILL NO

-PAUL. PAUL ITS LIKE THE STORY YOU TOLD OH MY GOD

-YIPPEE! Safe at last

-GODDAMNIT

-*Mr. Davidson voice* Paul... Paul... PAUUULLLLLL

-Puss Matthews

-the immediate laughter and regret on everyone's voices the SECOND that last line was said

[hazbinwrittenby]

Adam x Lute

smut (nsfw)

requested by anon :3

Hi there, this is my first ever attempt... hope you like it! I love this ship so much 🤟🥰

(oh, btw, English is not my first language, so please tell me if there's anything I need to fix!)

Enjoy~

Lute was resting after the extermination in her bed. She was extremely tired after slaying more than 200 souls, when she heard a knock on her bedroom's door.

"May I come in?" Adam asked whispering, his voice unexpectedly soft and kind.

Lute approached the door to let him in and when she did, he hugged her, making her question why was he being so gentle.

"I'm so proud of you, danger tits" there he is, Adam being his usual self. Lute blushed and rested her head on his shoulder for a bit, his hug healing her tiredness.

He made his way into her room and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him asking her to sit, and she did. "You know, seeing you slaughter those cunts made me sooo hard" he said while turning to the right to face Lute, then grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch.

For a few seconds she thought he was joking, as he always does, but when she felt his erection pushing to get out of his pants, she knew that he wasn't.

As Lute tried to remove the hand from his crotch, he tightened his grip on her wrist then looked at her:" I said...you make me hard. Feel how much." he ordered with a grin on his maskless face.

"Sir I-" she didn't want to oppose, she just didn't feel worthy. He's the man who started all humanity and she's just a killer, a damn good one, but still, not at his level - she thought.

He saw her insecure expression and got closer, grabbed her face and smiled, "If it still isn't clear, you dummie, I want you. Now."

Those reassuring words worked and Lute, turning red, squeezed his clothed cock, making him bite his bottom lip.

"Mm, take out my pretty dick" Adam proudly commanded, and she did, her pussy tingling with anticipation.

As she pulled down his pants, his cock bounced out. She gasped, it was really fucking big and pretty indeed, and the veins, ooh the veins pulsing, as if it was asking her to make it cum.

Lute took it in her hands, and gave it a few pumps, before Adam asked her to give it a nice, sloppy suck.

She tried to take it all in her mouth but only the tip could sit comfortably inside it, so she moved her tongue back and forth, making Adam moan: "It's so big it can't even fit your mouth", he let out a chuckle.

She smiled back, massaging her jaw because it was starting to ache.

"Oh, IT IS too big for your pretty mouth...Mm.. sit on it then" he ordered, precum forming on his tip from the slow licks Lute gave him.

She got up and tried to balance herself while squatting on the bed, him grabbing her waist to guide her down. She was a bit worried, it was really fucking enormous and she knew it was going to hurt-

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so wet" he breathed as he felt his tip getting soaked by her opening. All her worries were wiped away in a second, as soon as she felt his warm, pulsing dick push inside her hole.

"Aah-" she let a moan slip her mouth, and Adam couldn't resist to make her do it again; so he tightened the grip on her waist and thrusted inside her, Lute making more blissful noises.

"Fuck, Lute-" he groaned, one hand reaching her right boob below the dress. He started playing with her hardened nipple, and he noticed she had it pierced. He needed to see her naked body, he wanted to, sooo badly.

"Show me these pretty fucking tits" he commanded almost whining, and Lute obeyed, lifting up her dress completely.

She revealed her small, pierced breasts and Adam grinned as he approached them with his mouth. He gave her nipples alternatively a few licks and sucks, focusing on the piercings. Lute was a moaning mess, as she realised Adam had a piercing too, on his tongue and was using it, that bitch, to make her scream louder. The next time, she'd love to feel that tongue on her pussy, mainly that fucking piercing on her clit. Just the thought made her wetter and she threw her head back, as her hips drew circles on his cock, while he was wetting her nipples.

She moved faster and faster, making Adam stop focusing on her boobs and tilt his head back too, moaning louder.

They were facing each other now, she put her arms around his shoulders, and he pushed her hips down harder, he was close to cum.

"Lute I'm-" he couldn't finish the sentence in time, he let out a long moan as he shot his load inside her throbbing pussy.

She felt his warm liquid filling her up, as she reached her orgasm as well. Their juices mixed, as they looked at each other's eyes, panting.

They gave each other a tired smile, and layed down on the bed, Lute on top of him. He caressed her white hair like he was petting a kitten, as she placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart slowly going back to the normal beats.

[sanderchu]

I HAVE A IDEA! not sure if people have come up with it or not but hey ho, a fluffy tommy fic or hc about the Amsterdam trip! if that's okay!

Amsterdam vlog

Note: had this saved in my notes 👏 I don’t think I posted it here so slay

Charlie, tommy, and Wilbur in Wilbur’s office:

Charlie and tommy started to beat box as you just stood there confused as you held the camera for them. Then Wilbur soon joined along only making you more concerned mainly because of Wilbur’s rap. “Take it away y/n!” Tommy said as he started a beat for you. “Not a Chance-“ you said as tommy just shrugged and continued for you.

In that tunnel thing:

Tommy was Making everyone harmonize as you stood next to him even more confused. Everyone sounded like a trashy choir with a worse teacher. “Join in y/n!” You decided to join in the this making tommy wrap an arm around your shoulder and sway you back and forth as you both harmonized together.

On way to Amsterdam:

All of you and now tubbo were in the airport. “We have a bomb” tubbo whispered as tommy bumped his shoulder. “Shhh no we don’t Toby” tommy to show off was holding all your bags for you as you just walked next to him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry my own things?- I have no problem with it-“ tommy just nodded his head, “no need, your dating a man” tommy said as Wilbur scoffed, “more like a man baby” with that everyone laughed as tommy flipped him off. Soon enough of fooling around you all managed to get on the plane. You sat next to tommy since he wanted to be with you.

After flight:

You all started walked out of the plane and into the airport making your way out to meet phil. You all took the train to get to your destination. Tommy held your hand the whole time as he talked with Phil on the ride. When you guys got off the train Wilbur was acting like your tour guide like he lives there. You all stopped to grab something to eat and tommy ended up sharing a sandwich with you. You all just walked around Amsterdam when you all ended up in a boat.

Tubbo and Wilbur were being like four guides on the boat as you sat next to tommy who was cracking jokes and making you laugh. Tommy ended up splashing some water on you resulting in you two having a water fight. Tommy ended up hitting his head on the bridge trying to impress you so just laid on your legs almost the entire time. Tommy was being dumb and flirting with you to mess with you only resulting you to just laugh. Tommy was trying to impress you by jumping off the boat then jumping back on and ended up falling on the boat resulting into another break again. You all actually enjoyed your boat ride and had an amazing time.

You Then went to a Lego store with tommy and Charlie and ended up getting lost from the hotel. You all just decided to sit down on the grass as tommy started to build his legos as you helped him. Charlie was like the whole third wheel during that moment. Finally you all got back to the hotel where everyone else was waiting for you all.

You all ended up going to wipe out together and had a chaotic but fun time. Everything went well and you all went home fine still making jokes on the way.

[chiropteracupola]

The Great Meme Harvest of 2022

so in january I decided to make a list of them, and now it's time to share out the bounty. here you go, in chronological order with some attempt at indication of influence.

it’s [slay]ing absolute [penis]

robert downey jr [there are federal agents outside my house]

horse plinko

blorbo from my shows

submeme: blorbus and tumblrinus

submeme: [variation on blorbo] from my [genre of media]

eeby deeby

[x] dead [y] injured in [commonplace but annoying household occurrence] incident

seinfeld ‘kramer, what’s going on in there?’ [alternating panel] ‘it’s a [x], Jerry’

tbh/yippee

variations on ‘short people will be carried off by birds of prey’

sickos: ‘yes… ha ha ha… yes!”

submeme: sickos variations (ancestral sickos &c.)

megamind no bitches

the queen of england is dead (resurgence from late 2021)

L + ratio + [x] and so on and so forth

dear god the [x] you put on earth to be [variation on] sleepy cosy is being made to [do a thing]

it’s me boy i’m the ps5, speaking to you inside your brain

quirked up white boy with a little bit of swag busts it down sexual style

live slug reaction

[x] would be a beautiful name for a baby girl

my son he has every disease

[x] be like [complaint] my brother in christ [you were responsible for the source of the complaint]

submeme: my brother in christ in general

eight hour victorious video

submeme: car battery

advice for new tumblr users

get drinked / I drinked you

[x] is such a raw line you’d think it was from [shakespeare]

something very lgbt is happening here

tumblr blaze (emergence of, subsequent misuses)

microplastics

she [x] on my [y] til i [z]

bisexual misha collins

submeme: NOT BISEXUAL misha collins

dracula daily

submeme: paprika discourse

morbius

submeme: it’s morbin time / morbius memes by people who have not watched morbius and are not planning to do so

submeme: morbius fails again!

carnotaurus mating dance

will they give you food if you visit them

submeme: we collectively cancel the nation of sweden

there should be kink at [pretty much any darn location the meme-maker can think of]

we need an american girl doll who [ate someone on the donner party]

mousegirl bartender

the man in the pikachu mask

a bad day to be the prime minister of a small island nation with a constitutional monarchy / &c.

[he]’s a 10 but [utterly nonsensical explanation why this individual is not worth it]

new db cooper theory he went up

smooth sharks

I wonder how I taste (one partner expects kissing, one partner expects Bite Bite Chomp Chomp)

would you still love me if I were a worm

hair clips and other things that are animals

gandalf big naturals

it was a gougar (possibly a resurgence from previous memes)

image of infodumping girl in pink shirt

sans undertale and the tumblr sexyman awards / QUEEN OF ENGLAND DEAD FOR REAL

the tumpet. bwaaaaa

i’m on my puter

lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship

post stock market

[words in webpage somewhat similar to the name of a character or person indicated with circle and image]

a secret third thing

goncharov

submeme: this idiot hasn’t even seen goncharov

elon musk and his foolish antics

submeme: tumblr and twitter warrior cats

[lestat explains a piece of a media in a very strong phonetic french accent] / lestatspeak

hey. don’t cry. [very large number] of [thing] in the [world].

sorry [event which typically does not happen to human men happened to] your boyfriend [in exhaustive detail]

[number] ticket[s] to the barbie movie please

I went to [Mad At You] island and [none] of your friends were there

[bora-in-tamriel]

Just enjoying my own writing today, trying to gather juices to finish this big ol thing... 200K words in docs and still going so I'd like to see this finished since I started it lol

Some snippets from the beginning I quite enjoy to soothe the soul today

Varré didn’t linger in the spot either, not entirely a fan of the Runebear filled woods if he was honest. Nature wasn’t his friend at times, so he didn’t tempt it any longer. -- Your blood? The words sung in his mind. The low gruff growl of his voice, oozing with bloodlust. It peppered the nape of his neck with shivers. Though... he seemed to have been waiting to ask it. Now that he thought about it, the question was almost hopeful. Had he been thinking about him? His blood… Varré shook his head to rid the floating thoughts and focused on his new task at hand. He had been slacking as of late, losing Tarnished and being so preoccupied by the brute to have made many tributes for his Lord. Mohg was sure to grow unsatisfied with him if this persisted. And so, he had to make his move tonight. Something fresh and youthful perhaps… --

Everything was in motion on Stormhill at all times, winds blowing trees and grass into motion, making other movements disoriented into the mess. The only way Varré kept track of the beast nearby was his gleaming eyes that shone in the rising moonlight. They approached. Quickly. Eyes snapping wide, Varré ducked close to the ground, a heavy body toppling the other over his back. Easy prey when he was already beaten and battered by other people, but it mattered little to the silver-clawed Tarnished, who slashed the recusant into ribbons.

Varré growled, pushing off the ground with his mace in hand. “Quite the hunter you are, waiting for other people to kill their prey for you, should it not be a helpless maiden,” he belittled, “Prey that fights back too hard for you?” Varré cooed, watching the Tarnished rise to his feet over the corpse. "Ohh, I'm mistaken... The sweet noble in the red hood was mine to slay before you and your mutts got her too, wasn't she?" Red gleaming eyes turned around, watching over Varré with a mindless animosity that Varré barely registered soon enough to dodge the incoming tackle.

“ Oh , did I upset you?” he mocked, swinging his mace at the Tarnished, shooing him back a pace. “Run off with your tail tucked, I see filling your own gut is all you’re good for in the end.”

Claws slashed and swung at his face, but he stepped and leaned out of their reach with precise expertise. His mace swung close calls, but unfortunately his opponent was just as nimble in the end despite his size. He had an advantage Varré did not. He’d vanish from his reach, with his claws no doubt enhanced with an ash. Each swing would hit air or miss by a hair, with a retaliation attack coming back at him in a flash, clashing against his bloody mace. Leaping around Varré, the brute disoriented the surgeon, before lunging forth from his left, slashing out at his legs. With trained reflex, Varré was able to step out of the reach, but the end of his apron wasn’t so lucky.

“Ugh, you cur-” a body appeared in front of him, pushing forth with such force he couldn’t resist. His face met with a hard shoulder, chest against chest as the body pushed him over, toppling him to the ground with a heavy thud. His mace tumbled away from his grasp, leaving him with his dagger on his hip. Luckily the ground was grass and dirt, so the bounce of his skull against the ground was a manageable discomfort. --

“Wait… Wait, stop!” Varré ordered, catching the noble off guard. They stepped back, looking to Varré through their hood. Face hidden, one could only imagine their face bearing surprise or confusion. Perhaps both despite not being known for their expressiveness.

“He is not an enemy.” Varré stood up with his mace in hand, returning it to his hip. “He is simply a… Passion project. In training…” He muttered the last words to himself and looked down at the man who was pushing off the ground with one hand on his bleeding side. Varré smiled slightly, stepping a leg over his form, earning a growl in warning.

“Ohh, you ferocious thing.” He purred, giving a casual pat to his upper back before sitting his full weight atop him. Muscles spent and aching, the man collapsed under him, ready to use his claws again to get Varré away, but the surgeon had his ideas. He dug into a pouch in his belt and dug out a cloth with some crushed mushroom and a Saint Trina’s Lily. With a dash of liquid from a vial, he folded it and mushed the ingredients together. With the makeshift sleeping draught activated, he covered the man’s mouth with a glove and pressed the cloth over his nose. The brute struggled against him, but the pungent smell of lilies reached his senses quickly, dulling his mind until it faded to black.

“That's quite enough now... Rest...” --

He was in a familiar shack, though it no longer smelled of the man living here prior. Ambers still warm in the small fire pit warmed the air inside the broken shack, despite the wind that whistled through the glassless windows. A couple barrels stood in the corner, with his shirt and claws sitting atop them, well away from his reach. His brows almost had time to furrow, but boots shuffled against the old wooden floor out of his sight.

“Thought you wouldn’t be needing those first thing after opening your eyes, hmm? Let’s take it easy after such a wild night.” Varré grinned beneath his mask, leaning against the wooden wall of the shack with an unusually casual air to him. Still, his posture was as conniving as always with his hands latched together at his chest.

Finishing his furrowed brows, the man tried to push up off the ground, but swift steps and Varré’s boot were quick to kick him back down by his shoulder.

“Are you truly that stubborn or that stupid?” Grumbling, Varré looked down at the man lying on his back at his feet. “Or perhaps…” His eyes wandered upon him briefly. “In your case it’s both. So, I’ll put it more plainly for you. Rest. or your wounds will open.” --

A grunt jolted him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the man, who had rolled on his side, no doubt straining on his stitches. Just then did he realize the flames licking at his hand on the stick he held, making him quickly drop it in the pit with a hiss from surprise. 

Sighing, Varré turned his head back. “What did I just say?” He replied almost exasperated, but the man only hummed a “Hmm-mm” in response.

“Not even a thank you? I could have left you to bleed like a pig for animals to slaughter? Would have been quite the act of karma, wouldn’t it?” The surgeon grinned, mischievous delight in his tone.

“And yet you didn’t.” A single reply snuffed the joy out of his voice. “Why is that I wonder? What was it you said I was…?”

“I-”

“A passion project?”

Varré glared through his mask at the man who was grinning with his eyes closed in turn. It wasn’t hungry or wicked as before. It was a smile of pure amusement. He was enjoying himself too much.

“You seem to enjoy the notion, yet refuse to cooperate as such at every turn,” he replied flatly, earning a chuckle. It was strange. Why was he so casual about this? Did he take Varré’s saving gesture at such high value he felt comfortable loosening up? A regrettable move, really.

“You never did consider my counteroffer,” the brute hummed.

“You’d have me bleed like a pig for your pleasure. Why would I consider th-”

“A delicious one.”

Varré stared at him, almost appalled at his casualty as he licked his teeth through his smile. The familiar warmth weighed in his gut, mirroring that of his face. He was rather thankful of his mask regularly, but it was a blessed relic today. How humiliating it’d be to seem so vulnerable to this smug lowborn.

[lesbiansanemi]

Ok, imagine this idea. Mugen Train Arc but Kyojuro has a betrothed, a young woman around his age (maybe a little younger, but nothing alarming) he doesn't like that much, he doesn't even know her that much, but he wants to continue the legacy of the Rengoku bloodline (mostly because he knows he won't be having a long life as a slayer and doesn't want this ending being a burden that Senjuro will have to carry neither by training or marriage). He at least has some control over it and was able to choose someone by himself, a daughter of one of his parent's friend. At least is someone he knew about before starting the engagement.

He convinces himself he actually wants it, that he should actually put the effort into knowing and loving his future wife, that it's meant to be, only natural that he, a man of wealth and with a prestigious name (even if it's only in the demon slaying business) marries a young lady and continue the legacy. [Kyojuro is in the closet cause of heteronormativity]

Then in his fight with Akaza he notices he is making no effort in going back home or to his betrothed, that he doesn't want to go back.... [Also Akaza running around being a bisexual icon, time to force blonde queer out the closet! >:D]

No yeah cuz like, see, my personal little headcanon for Kyojuro is that he is 100% a gay man. Also think he can admit to himself that he likes men, there's not really any questions about that, however, he is desperately trying to delude himself into thinking he also likes women due to the expectation of him to get married. Not just in a societal sense due to the time period, but like you mentioned. The Rengokus are an old, prestigious family. Of course among the Corps, but I'd reckon they're well known by the general population around where they live, just due to their money alone, let alone their family history as swordsman. And as the eldest son, Kyojuro is one hundred percent expected to marry a well bred young lady, just as his father did, and his father, so on and so forth. It's just something he's always known. So.... of course he likes women. He has to like women. He has to. He doesn't have a choice. He likes them. He does!

So the idea of him ending up engaged with a woman that he doesn't know well seems very realistic to me, and adds a fun little facet of his character. Especially when you approach it from this angle where he feels like he should care for her or at least put a genuine effort into trying but he just... can't seem to do it. Why not? His parents were engaged in a similar way, and obviously they loved each other deeply! What the hell is wrong with him? Why can't he do it?

It also add an extremely fun and angsty angle to him ending up being infatuated with Akaza. Not only do you have the taboo nature of their relationship due to them being a demon and a slayer, but Kyojuro feels as if he's betraying his future wife by even being attracted to Akaza.

And on Akaza's side of things.... I think at first it would even make him feel guilty for reasons he doesn't quite understand, pursuing Kyojuro when he's mentioned having a fiance. After all, pursuing someone who is engaged who wants nothing to do with him..... Hm..... pushing some familiar buttons he's not even aware that he has. Ultimately though, after spending time around Kyojuro, I think it would become obvious to Akaza that he doesn't actually love this girl and is only going through with a marriage out of obligation. At that point, he would most definitely get very into the idea of convincing Kyojuro to break it off, for his own sake

So yeah! I think it would add a really interesting spin to their dynamic, and would make sense given the time period and societal expectations for a man like Kyojuro

(Also semi-reminds me of my personal kinda crack headcanon of Kyojuro and Shinobu coming to an arrangement and deciding to get engaged to essentially be each other beards and literally everyone who knows them is like "oh hold on a fucking second what the fuck is going on you cannot convince me you have feelings for each other." I just think it's very funny, and well.... Kyojuro needs a wife. Shinobu might not come from a well known family or anything, but she's obviously well known amongst the Corps.... She's a good option. And Shinobu agrees because well.... She just kind of intended to never get married but hey, a legal husband does get a bit of suspicion off her and again, given the time period, much easier for a woman to get by with a husband than without, assuming she survives the end of the series and the Corps dissolves and she has to be involved with normal society at large again. It's a good deal for her too. Tangent, but I think it's a funny scenario lmao)

[gotham-native]

list of thing my sister said while watching cats for the first time Act 2 (Electric Boogaloo)

*The bold is when i talked

"dang now grandpa's sad" (Old Deut)- before Moments of Happiness

"is it nap time?" - Before moments of Happiness when everyone is showing up

"*GASP* Is that my MAN" - when Alonzo is in the background when Gus is walking onto stage

"see he's old and they like him by they don't like the pretty girl??"- About Gus

"Aww is he singing a sad song" -Moment of Happiness

"why they getting up in everyone's face" - Moments of Happiness

"OHHHH shes sounds NICE!" - Jemima's solo

"that's what i sound like when i sing" "Really" "Yea listen *high pitch screech*" - Jemima's solo

"AHH THAT WAS MY MANS FACE" - a close up of Alonzo

"Aww the old guy is adorable" - Gus

"AHHH is this another sad song" - Gus the Theater cat

"ASPARAGUS!!!" - Gus the Theater cat

*sways back in forth while Jellylorum sings* - Gus the Theater cat

"AHH no he sounds so sweet" - Gus the Theater cat (when Gus started to sing)

"Oh My God what is THAT"- Gus the Theater cat (When Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell shows up)

"AHH NO HE'S SAD STOP I'LL CRY NO!!!!" - Gus the Theater cat

"Not to exaggerate but I'd DIE for him" - Gus the Theater cat

"Oh its happy again"-Skimbleshanks the railway cat

"Look at them go" - Skimbleshanks the railway cat

"Why he jump like that"- Skimbleshanks the railway cat

"Bless you" (Rumpleteazer) - Skimbleshanks the railway cat

"what they doing- AH MY MAN" -Skimbleshanks the railway cat (when they started to make the train)

"Oh they fucked it up" -Skimbleshanks the railway cat (when the Train fell apart)

"NOO IT'S SPOOKY AGAIN" - Macavity showing up

"WHAT IS THAT" - when you saw Macavity for the first time

"NOO THE DEMON GOT GRANDPA!!!!" - Macavity Kidnapping Old Deut

"why are the singing GRANDPA" - Macavity the Mystery cat

"Oh wait she slays" (Demeter) - Macavity the Mystery cat

"OH OH OH, that's the sexy one" (Bomba) Macavity the Mystery cat

"why they acting like he's hot LOOK AT HIM" - Macavity the Mystery cat

"ok but their killing it" - Macavity the Mystery cat

"NO what now" - Macavity attack

"GRANDPA'S BACK" - Macavity attack

"Why she doing that, Grandpa NO" - Macavity attack

"OH GOD IT'S BACK" (Macavity) - Macavity attack

"Whys he dancing they don't like him" Macavity attack

"Yea mess him up" - Macavity attack

"no not HIM"(Munkustrap) - Macavity attack

"NOOOOO MY MANS" (Alonzo) - Macavity attack

"Yea jump his ass" - Macavity attack

"where was he went the demon attacked" (Tugger) -Mr. mistoffelees

"His voice is hot" (Tugger) -Mr. mistoffelees

"why is everyone sing, Grandpa is still missing" - Mr. mistoffelees

"What the- where he come from(misto)-Mr. mistoffelees

"WHERE WAS HE WHEN SCARY ONE ATTACKED" - Mr. mistoffelees (when he shot lightning)

"This is Fruity" (In a good way) -Mr. mistoffelees

"Why didn't he just shock the bad guy when he tried to steal Grandpa" - Mr. mistoffelees

"What they doing to her" (Cassandrea) - Mr. mistoffelees

" is that really grandpa" "Yes" "YEA GRANDPA" - Mr. mistoffelees

"Ahhh everyone's happy" - Mr. mistoffelees

"where he go" - Mr. mistoffelees

"oh shes singing again good good" - Daylight

"OH MY GOD, I'm sick of them being mean to her" - Grizabella shows up

"She's singing again, they don't deserve a concert" - Memory

"i want to hug her she's perfect" - Memory

"she slays their all haters" - Memory

"ahh she helping" ( Jemima) - Memory

"YEA GIRL VOLCALS" - Memory

"Awww do they like her now" - when Victoria touched her

"What they doing now" - journey to the heaviside layer

"what is that- whats happening where she going" - journey to the heaviside layer

"I'm confused is she dead" - journey to the heaviside layer

"Whys he sing- MY MANS!- why he singing what Happened" -re addressing of cats

"they slay but still what Happened"- re addressing of cats

*Explains what happened* "THEY SENT HER TO HEAVEN" - re addressing of cats

*just watching the TV unblinking* - re addressing of cats

"They Slayed, I'm confused but they Slayed"

[hesthermay]

𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

PAIRING: sergeant hunter x f!royal!reader

SUMMARY: on a planet in the same system where the bad batch has just finished a mission, a group who's core belief is constructed of hate and discrimination has partnered with the separatists to take the capital and kidnap the queen. the mission brief is short and void of details, and the brothers have no idea what they're stepping into when they land on the small planet, but it amounts to more than they could have expected. with the first attempt to take the queen a failure, they know more is to come and can only say yes when her majesty herself asks clone force 99 to help her bring this to an end once and for all. it will not be easy, they will have to be unforgiving and perhaps even ruthless, but in the end light must always prevail over the darkness that is hate.

WORD COUNT: 3.8k (wowza!)

RATING + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, angst. use of she/her, sexism existing in star wars, mentions of death, ruthless queen vibes, is this even good

NOTES: i have returned and am in my star wars era. slay! expect my sw masterlist to grow from here on out, i have multiple oc's and lots of ideas. anyways, this has potential for a part 2 so let me know what ya think! happy reading :P

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

Clone Force 99 did not know much about the situation they were walking into, the mission briefing having been almost nonexistent due to the urgency of everything. They were told it was an emergency, that things had escalated quickly on a planet not too far from where they currently were, that an attack was made against the queen and aid was needed immediately. It was not the first time they had been sent on a mission that deviated from what a regular clone soldier would do, but the haste of everything, the exempted details, had left the Bad Batch wondering as they landed the Marauder on the soft grass below. 

The air smelt of smoke and the sky was slightly full of ash as it loomed over them, sunlight no longer streaming through the branches of the trees lining the clearing in the forest they currently stood in. One thing they had been told was steer clear of the landing pad, a small effort to keep their ship out of view and knowledge of their presence at a minimum; at least for the moment. Hunter’s nose scrunched at the stench, senses not quite overwhelmed by it but could most definitely be on the way to it. They had seen just what was burning as they flew over the expanse of greenery to reach the capital, and it only fueled the theories the men threw back and forth about exactly what was going on here—buildings, shops and homes, were lit up in flames as people as tiny as specks fled into the streets. Even the large and intricate castle was suffering from the destruction of the attack, the east wing beginning to crumble from the mercilessness of the fire.

Now that he was out in the open, Hunter could faintly hear blaster fire. 

“And we’re just supposed to wait here?” Wrecker questioned as he looked around the clearing, head moving this way and that. Beside him, Tech hummed as his eyes scanned the datapad in front of him, helmet already on. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The general should be here momentarily to give us further information.” 

As if on cue, a man clad in armor stepped through the treeline. His head was held high but there was a limp in his step and blood mixed with ash covering his face, a sign that he had been fighting and fighting hard. The crease in between his brows did not lessen when he spotted the group, but they knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t thankful for their arrival. 

“99?” The man questioned as he drew closer, and it was the sergeant who stepped forward to answer, assuming his role of the leader with ease. 

“Yes, sir. General Stowe, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, sir.” The man’s deep voice echoed his response and respect. It was not a common thought on this planet to discriminate against the clones that made up the Republic Army, but unfortunately you could never be sure when visiting a place for the first time. 

“What happened here?”

General Stowe sighed, the lines on his face deepening, if that was even possible. “About a year ago,” he drawled, “a group of men moved into the capital, and it wasn’t long before people started to figure out they had some…controversial views on the status of our leader. They’ve been aggressive thus far, but nothing ever to this degree; never as violent as this. We believe they made a deal with the Separatists to kidnap the queen because they have a battalion's worth of droids accompanying them.” 

There was a pause, a moment of silence as the brothers processed the words now out in the open, before Hunter looked back at the general, back straight and eyes determined. “Well, let’s get going then, shall we, boys?” he directed it over his shoulder, but his head remained forward as he removed the helmet from under his arm. There’s a response from the men behind him, a confirmation that they were ready for this, and then they were on their way. Stowe nodded his head at the leader when they seemed to catch each other's gaze, side by side as they trekked out of the forest. 

“General Stowe, what exactly are these ‘controversial views’ you speak of?” Tech questioned from the back of the group. 

Another sigh, deep and heavy. Things seemed to be weighing heavy on the older man’s shoulders as he responded. “That she’s a woman.” 

The answer was simple and yet not, all at the same time. That was it? That was the reason? There wasn’t a Bad Batcher one who thought that that made sense. After a spell of silence, where they weren’t sure if the general was looking for a response or even what they would have said, he continued. “They haven’t exactly been shy about voicing their thoughts on Her Majesty, whether it be the way she runs things, things that aren’t even in her control, or the fact that she thinks she’s capable of doing her duty when she's ‘just some kriffing bitch with a crown.’’

The swell of anger was fast and strong as it took up space in Hunter’s chest. This wasn’t about some leader being reckless with their decisions, with the lives of their people, wasn’t about a person in power being cruel and malicious. It was about a woman being targeted for simply existing. 

“We know it’s not just about the queen either. They’ve been aggressive towards women in the capital, but they haven’t actually been outright violent until now. So this is…”

“Just hate,” Hunter finished for him, gruff and serious. “It’s just about hate.”

Another stretch of silence passed. Things stewed in the minds of Clone Force 99 for a few moments, the lack of natural noise in the forest giving them no reprieve from their thoughts. 

“Where is the queen, anyways?” It’s Echo’s voice that permeated the space next, light and curious as usual, but still serious. It came as no surprise when Stowe heaved yet another sigh, though this one could count as a groan as well. Oh no.

“Location is unknown. She went missing shortly after the start of the attack.” His eyes remained forward, not needing to turn to the men around him for them to see just how bad saying it felt. 

Still, it didn’t stop Crosshair from butting in, voice incredulous as ever, harboring the slightest bite. “You lost her?”

The sergeant wanted to reprimand him, but couldn’t find it in himself to do so. 

“Now I’m not sure what you’ve heard about her, but Queen Y/N is a very capable and skilled fighter, very…very stubborn, too.” A knowing exasperation crept into his words, as if this so-called stubbornness was a daily adversary of his. “We have a plan in place for if something like this happened, but it’s been reported that she stopped to save a handmaid and was quickly outnumbered.”

Conversation ceased as the group drew nearer to the castle. The seriousness of everything began to weigh heavier on their shoulders as they were spotted by some of the attackers immediately after breaking the treeline. They meandered around the courtyard as if they owned the place, as if they deserved to be there, but they were taken care of easily, quick work for such a capable group. 

-: ✧

The fight that awaited them inside the castle, however, was not an easy one. There were more of them than they had originally anticipated, making them wonder for just a brief moment how so many people could share something in such a hateful thought. Nonetheless, it was the Bad Batch and castle guard left standing when the fight had been won, when the enemy had been defeated. 

“Good work, boys,” Hunter spoke into his comm, standing in the gardens surrounded by broken and blasted droids. “Anybody got eyes on the queen?”

After a moment, he was met with a resounding no. His helmet turned in the direction of the general who stood a few feet away from him. He shook his head, and the worn man repeated the question into his own comm device, but was left disappointed after receiving the same answer. 

“Alright, Sergeant Hunter and I will be heading to the throne room. If you’ve found the leaders of this failed excursion, round ‘em up and meet us there.” Though he furrowed his brows in confusion, he repeated the same command to his brothers before following Stowe, kicking droid parts out of his way. 

Tech and Wrecker were already in the throne room, along with about half of the castle guard, when they entered through the large double doors. The room, with its towering columns and intricate ceiling, was tainted by what they saw. 

Lined up on their knees were two men, beaten and bloodied, but still alive. They were a part of the attack, and were the supposed leaders; though they looked nothing like leaders now, more closely resembling a coward begging to be spared. As he was looking down at them, the doors opened once again and in came a few more guards, flanked by Crosshair and another injured and restrained man. 

The sniper led the man forward to be lined up next to the others, and that was when Hunter realized that each of them were adorned by the color red in some way, a marker of their rank in this operation. His jaw clenched as he looked over at his brothers, seeing the same color painted on their armor but knowing they were nothing like these criminals, these scum. 

“Her Majesty will want to speak with you upon her return, and I will not indulge you with false promises of being met with kindness and forgiveness. An enemy she is not to be made of, and that is exactly what you have made her.” General Stowe’s words offered no comfort to the men, but they were not meant to. Still, they made the clones more curious about the queen, and who exactly she was and what she did. 

Finally, the doors opened and the last member of their squad entered the large room. Echo had his helmet off and tucked under his scomplink arm, the other one held out to usher a woman into the room. For a moment, Hunter wondered if she was the queen, but something told him she wasn’t, and when Stowe greeted her as the head advisor his suspicions were only confirmed.

“There’s still no eyes on the queen, which is not good,” the general stated. 

“No, it’s not,” Advisor Calianna agreed. “We need to send out some groups to find her, she might not even be in the castle anymore.” 

Tech spoke up next, but Hunter had stopped listening, their words slowly fading out. His head turned away, facing the entrance. He sensed you, still in the corridor; his ears picked up on the rapid drumming of your heart and his nose prickled at the metallic scent of blood wafting from you. 

You were alive, you were moving, and you were here.

Crosshair noticed his brother’s silence first, noting the direction his head was craned in, and he nudged Tech beside him. The clone was not phased, continuing his discussion with the two officials, and it was not a moment later that the massive doors gave their signature creak once again, the noise filling the entire room. It was only then that everyone paused, their attention diverted. There, leaned against the wood of one of the doors, was you. 

The doors were not opened all the way, only as much as you could manage and even that had caused you to halt, catching your breath. You, Her Majesty Queen Y/N, were alive and breathing, but you were hurt. Your face was covered in crimson, and Hunter’s keen eyes zeroed in on the gash going across the bridge of your nose to your right cheek. Your dress, long and golden and no doubt once magnificent, was torn and ripped and barely hanging off your shoulders, stained with blood as well. As your feet carry you into the room with a heavy limp, they notice that they’re bare and leave behind red prints. 

For a moment, everyone was left frozen at the sight of you. You had had the fight of your life, had pushed yourself to the limit and the blade that was clutched in your right hand, coated in more blood, was a testament to that. Dark droplets landed on the bottom of your dress as it pooled on the ground around you. “Your Majesty!” Calianna gasped, rushing forward to meet you as you fully entered the room. It would seem that the woman had not noticed the look on your face, but Hunter certainly had. 

You were not in the mood to be consoled and coddled, the rage in your eyes a stark contrast to the blank expression you wore. The only thing you gave the people around you was a deep furrow of your brow, drawn together in anger and determination. Kriff, maybe even spite too; Clone Force 99 was beginning to get the impression that you were not supposed to walk away from whatever it was that you had. The woman fretting over you was ignored, you not letting her slow your pace. Your eyes looked at nothing else other than the men lined up in a neat and pathetic row; the sight of them only seemed to spur you on, lip curling slightly. 

“Are these them?” 

There was a ferocity coating your words, ringing in their ears as they hit them, and none of the brothers could muster up the courage to break from the frozen state and answer you. It was Stowe who nodded his head at your question, stepping forward and addressing you softly but firmly. 

The closer you drew to the group, the more detailed your injuries became. It wasn’t just the gash on your face that was bleeding, your lip was busted and you had suffered a blow to the temple. Bruises were beginning to form on your arms as they swung slightly at your side, and there would surely be scabs on your knuckles. There was a long rip on the left side of your dress skirt, and your leg slipped out of the slit with every step; your knee was swollen and bruising, clearly the cause for the heavy limp you sported. And still, you never stopped and never slowed as you trekked up the steps leading to the throne, where the perpetrators were lined up.

“How do you feel?” you asked them, though they never lifted their eyes from the ground in front of them. “Do you feel good?” 

As you passed the group of guards and soldiers, they saw that the back of your dress was no better than the front; more rips littered the fabric covering your back and the expanse was stained a dark crimson. 

“Do you feel…accomplished?” You stood over the men, looking down as they cowered on the floor before you. “Do you feel like the men you were when you started this?” 

You were met with no answer, though you were not expecting one. “I know there are more of you, hidden away like rats afraid of daylight; and I know you’re working with Count Dooku. You will crawl back to them, and tell them that you failed. That you were the only ones to survive and it is because I let you. You will tell Count Dooku, personally, that I meant what I said—that it is not in me to be afraid, I was not born to be afraid. I was born to fight, and that is exactly what I plan to do.” 

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as you remained in place, letting seconds pass by with your fiery gaze placed upon the men in front of you. It was a moment to let them process it, let it sink in and stick in their dim minds.

And then, you dropped the blade and it clattered to the ground. You turned, and it was then that your eyes seemed to take notice of the others in the room. You scanned each soldier in black and red armor, all with their helmets off and faces showing. Your gaze lingered on the clone with gray hair for a moment, zeroed in on the rifle slung over his back. Making your way forward, you stopped in your tracks as you went to pass him. “Take care of all of them but one. He’ll be our messenger,” you ordered, but not harshly. You were not loud, you were not aggressive in tone, you were not emotional. You were calm, serious and merciless with your command. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Crosshair responded quietly, eyes squinted at her as he reached around to remove his rifle. With that, you continued limping forward, your aid rushing forward after a moment to help you out of the room. Clone Force 99 shared a look with one another before the shots rang out. 

-: ✧

It was hours later that the Bad Batch saw the queen again. You had been whisked away to be looked over and treated immediately after leaving the throne room, and it was not until the sun was beginning to set and everything was bathed in an orange glow that they stood before you again. 

You were on a balcony overlooking the capital, back facing the soldiers as you leaned against the stone. Hunter hesitated to disturb you, eyes lingering on you even when he knew she shouldn’t. Your hair was pinned up and your dress had an open back, revealing gashes covered in bacta, but you had sensed him this time and without even turning your head fully, you spoke to them directly. “I was told to let them breathe for a bit, I hope it doesn’t bother you.” 

You sounded tired. None of them knew how you were even standing after everything that had happened, yet there you were. “No, ma’am,” the leader answered, kicking himself for the slight stutter in his words. “We just wanted to check in with you before it got too late, if that’s alright.” 

Fully facing them now, you were haloed in the warm light of the sunset and you looked absolutely magnificent. The gash on your nose and cheek was going to scar, but it didn’t take away anything from the grace and elegance you possessed. “Of course, I actually wanted to speak with you myself.” 

“You did?” Wrecker questioned, voice louder than needed in the calmness of the area. You only chuckled at him, grin small but present as you nodded. 

“Yes, I did. Is everything handled?” This question was directed towards Crosshair, and he nodded his head once. 

“The messenger was sent on his way,” he answered, and it was obvious to all that there was more he wanted to say. The question was, would he speak his mind or mind his tongue? “Are you sure about this, though?” 

There was no evidence of offense on your face. You only nodded firmly, voice serious. “Yes, I am. I’m not afraid of Count Dooku, but I am not so delusional that I won’t admit that I need help. I need your help.” Your eyes, shining in the lowlight of the evening, landed on each one of them and took the time to take them in for all they were. 

Perhaps it was that their whole lives had been spent training for and fighting in a war and there weren’t many pretty things to see in a life spent on battlefield after battlefield that made their hearts seize in their chests at the look, or maybe it was just that your gaze was so piercing because it was driven by the truth in your words and the determination to do what was right and serve justice where justice was due. 

“Can I trust you to help me end this? Because that is exactly what I plan to do, stop this before it gets any more out of hand. I can’t do it on my own and I’m going to need people on my side that I can trust without a doubt, and,” she grinned, “not to speak illy of your characters, I don’t know you. But, I do want to trust you, you risked your lives helping today and I am more grateful than you could imagine. Can I?” 

Again, no one seemed to want to be the first to break the frozen state and actually use their words. No one seemed to want to take the leap of faith required to dive headfirst into this fight, into this cause, as uncharted and diligent as it was. But eventually, as though the same wavelength connected each mind, Hunter came to his decision first and the rest followed; trusting their brother’s judgment and direction the same as any other day. 

“Of course you can, Your Majesty,” the long haired man answered, nodding his head. “Your fight, is our fight now.” 

“Yeah!” Wrecker cheered. “Don’t you worry, Queenie, we got this!” 

Not a moment later, Tech’s voice joined in. “Well, I suppose we do have much to offer the cause,” a hand reached up to adjust the goggles on his face. 

“You can count on us, Your Majesty,” Echo assured, a small smile stretching his lips as his eyes sparkled ever so slightly.

Now, all eyes gazed at the last man remaining, the sniper who personally fulfilled the queen’s wishes. Crosshair was sometimes hard to predict, but all knew his temperament and aversion to things that didn’t contribute to the main goal. If it wasn’t helping them win, it wasn’t really worth it, right? But this, this fight built upon the backs of hate and discrimination and evil, was in the way of the goal of victory. The separatists, and those aligned with them, were the enemy and those enemies were here now. “I suppose this place could do with some cleaning up.” 

The grin on your face earlier had grown into something akin to dazzling. It was a full smile now, teeth on display and illuminating the space everyone was huddled in. Unbeknownst to the group, they had all gravitated towards the woman, huddled around her almost shoulder to shoulder as she called on them for help. “Wonderful,” you mused, and they could hear it. The knowing lilt in your voice, the glint of mischief reflecting off the word. “I think we may just do something here, boys. Huzzah,” you concluded softly, hand placed in front of you and waiting.

Though they again hesitated, after sharing a glance they one by one placed their own hands on top of yours. The allegiance was formed, and the wheels were now in motion.

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own. 

[moon-blanket]

Waking up to the Monarchial Summit video dropping was the scariest notification of my life.

IT'S TIME !!!!! IT'S TIME IT'S TIME IT'S TIME IT'S TIME !!!!!!!

FIFTY ONE MINUTES ???? Holy fuck this is going to be the longest post in the world i'm so sorry.

Shaw Pack Boys gettin' ready to head off !!!1 YIPPEE !!! I love hearing all of the Pack and their mates interacting oh my god it fills me with glee every time.

----

William still isn't answering calls ?? Hey dude you NEED to get some kind of act together. Vincent needs you !! His silly little music bit was very heartwarming though :') HE GAVE LOVELY A CROWN !!!! OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO SOB AND CRY ON THE FLOOR FOR EONS. He's so nervous about if they like it or not oh my god. oh my god. HE PUTS IT ON THEIR HEAD !!!!!!! CALLS THEM BEAUTIFUL !!!!! WELCOMED TO MONARCHY !!!!! SAYS THEY WEAR IT WELL !!!!!!! HOW CAN I BE NORMAL !!!!!!

"You're my heart, and it is such a privilege that i get to stand at your side. Thank you, for being a part of my life, baby. The best part." I AM WEEPING PLEAAASE WHEN IS IT MY TURN.

----

Please tell me Samuel Collins has dressed for the occasion. Please tell me it's to the Nines. Remember my big post about doing Anything in the world to see it. Yeah hi hey. Let me see it.

Sam being a Butter Pecan Ice Cream lover makes all the sense in the world and more. Of course he would dude.

----

Porter flipping on Vincent and Not bringing Treasure to the Summit is a low blow. Babygirl you can't keep doing this.

Vincent asking Lovely if He can be the one to punch him this time. What a slay. Love you forever.

----

VINCENT WELCOMING THE PACK IN WAHEEE !!!! I can hear the awkwardness because he didn't know beforehand. He called them enjoyable !! moreso than other people !! David saying that Vincent and Lovely both having a spot at their table i'm falling to my knees.

Uhoh, they're already getting job offers !!

Asher asking him to blink twice if he needs help, and Milo saying that he looks like he has a gun to his head. LMAO. Help this poor man.

----

Vincent's reassurances that Lovely is being a good host :(((

House of Bennett !!! The king seems. So.... nice. wow.

The prince calling him "A kid in his dad's suit." UHOH. And asking for Alexis immediately. That isn't unassuming at all.

----

ALEXIS ?????? ALEXIS SOLAIRE ????? THE ALEXIS SOLAIRE ??? IN THE PRIME UNIVERSE ???? HELLO I SUPPOSE !!!! NICE TO MEET YOU !!!

Alexis asking if they'll turn into a vampire or die and leave sam without them !!! Hey what the fuck !!!! That's kind of sick and twisted !!!

Darlin' being like "I can solo her" is SO REAL. I can do it too. Let me at her ! LET ME AT HER !!!!

Alexis's reasoning for turning Sam from her own mouth !! That's fun to hear. Fuck that !

PORTER HERO MOMENT ? Oh my god their back and forth. I'm LIVING FOR IT !!!! THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING !!!! Calling her a family disappointment made me choke on my water.

Him asking if they're alright, even if it was to stop a fight from breaking out. SAM IS BACK WAHOO !!!

SAM IS ABOUT TO GO OFF ON ALEXIS !!!!! GET HER BABY !!!! AND DARLIN' FOLLOWS !!!!! LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE WOOOOO !!!!!!!!

---- HOW ARE WE ONLY HALFWAY THROUGH DUDE WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN ----

David getting a message about being Careful of William. Saying that Quinn had to have come from Somewhere, somewhere with Friends. That William is a horrible judge of character. And dragging all of the fuckin' clan members LMAOOOO.

Man the House of Solaire is a mess huh !!!!

----

SAM LETS FUCKING GO !!!!!! GET HER ASS !!!!! God while it's raining also. It's like a scene from a movie. God I could just IMAGINE the hard stare the two of them exchanged before Alexis finally gave in (in her own way). and the IMMEDIATE zip off from Sam after he heard what he wanted. What a work of art.

----

ASH AND MILO !!! YIPPEE !!!! AND PORTER IS TALKING TO THEM ?? I am going to go fucking crazy oh my god dude I'm going to go NUTS.

(Hey off-topic, but this background music is something that shows up in someone else's videos that I watch and I got So Fucking Confused for a second LMAO. Okay we can carry on)

Immediately asking Sweetheart if they're an investigator for the Department, as well as having a Time Crunch-- is VERY SUSPICIOUS.

HEY HE KNOWS ABOUT CLOSEKNIT ??? PORTER YOU CAN'T ALSO BE IN TOWN FOR CLOSEKNIT. HEY YOU CAN'T ALSO BE INVOLVED.

ONE OF CLOSEKNIT'S CURRENT BACKERS IS HERE ?? THE HOUSE OF BENNETT ?????

Okay Porter you're maybe a fuckin' hero. Even if you have potential strings with this.

Telling Sweetheart to get in and listen and get out seems SCARY !!!! HEY THIS COULD BE A SETUP FOR SOMETHING !!!!! HEY UHOH !!!!

Milo being worried for his mate !! hey me too !!!!

Oh my god it's been almost two years since Inversion. oh NO Ash doesn't know what Milo did that night.

Even through his worries he immediately stands up for it when Ash is a little wary about it. :')))

----

SWEET SAM AND DARLIN' MOMENT IN THE RAIN !!!!!!! I'M GONNA EAT THIS UP !!!!!!!!!

Sam stickin' around Alexis even after showin' her true colors, saying there is a heart in her somewhere deep (deep, deep, deep) down in there somewhere. Even if he hates her with everything he has.

He found one of her "real person" moments from her when they talked. Just like a movie dude, i'm tellin' ya.

Him reassuring Darlin' that they can absolutely handle themself, but she is a problem that He "brought" in to their relationship-- so he wanted to at least Help. And deal with his own problems.

HE CALLED HER A BITCH DUDE LET'S GOOOO !!!!! COMMON W.

Darlin' saying that their problems are shared :'))) what if i just scream into the night.

---- HOW ARE WE STILL NOT DONE ----

Uuuuuh-oh. Asher pulling David and Angel to the side. Telling the what's-up.

David and Asher exchanging some kind of look about it oh my GOD what another scene from a movie. I'm so proud of Asher for asserting his decision. He's grown so much !!!

David saying he Knows that Asher can do this. THAT'S BEST FRIENDS RIGHT THERE !!!! WOOOOO.

----

OH MY GOD SWEETHEART EAVESDROPPING.

"We risk losing ground" Closeknit ? The House of Bennett ?? Why are they against demons ? Why did they put their stakes (no pun intended) into CloseKnit ?

SWEETHEART ARE YOU MAKING NOISE ??? SWEETHEART BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOOOOING !!!!!!! HEY YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL.

WHY ARE WE CUTTING IT HERE PLEASE ARE THEY OKAY.

----

Oh my god Porter starting a fight with Vincent so that they can take away attention from whatever Sweetheart is doing with House Bennett.

I understand that Vincent can't know because of time constraints, but i can't imagine how he feels when it's Suddenly happening in front of EVERY important person in the Vampire circle of Dahlia. At least that makes the fight convincing. .... hahah ......

HEY KING BENNETT IS DEAD ???? HEY WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED ???? SWEETHEART ???? HEY SWEETHEART WHAT HAPPENED ?????? ARE YOU OKAY ????? PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU DID THAT !!!!!!!!!!!!!

HOW DOES ALEXIS KNOW ??? HEY HOW DOES SHE KNOW BEFORE SOMEONE FOUND OUT.

----

THAT'S WHERE IT ENDS ????? HEY WHAT THE FUCK ??????? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT ????

I AM GOING TO GO BERSERK DUDE !!!!!!!!!! HOW LONG UNTIL THE NEXT VIDEO ???? HEY ARE WE OKAY ???? SWEETHEART IS CHILL RIGHT ????? WE'RE COOL ?????

how can I carry on normally after the events that have transpired. Hey i'm in shock and awe. What a great video, by the way. Giving it all of the flowers it deserves and more. But i'm So !!!! afraid for what happens next !!!!!

[ariel-seagull-wings]

POMEGRANATE SEED

@themousefromfantasyland @faintingheroine @princesssarisa @softlytowardthesun @grimoireoffolkloreandfairytales @the-blue-fairie @inevitablemoment @thealmightyemprex @tamisdava2 @natache @gstone97 @lord-antihero @professorlehnsherr-almashy

(Arab folktale from Palestine and Israel. Recorded by Yoel Perez, from the mouth of Zahia Ghurayfât (60) of the 'Arab al-Ghurayfât tribe of Bayt Zarzîr, September 11, 1982)

Oh, honored listened to the words, shall we tell a tale, or shall I sleep? Let's tell a tale.

There was a woman who was not able to become pregnant, and she could not bring forth children. Her husband was a working man.

One day a merchant came and was hawking his goods, saying:

"Pomegranate for pregnancy! Pomegranate for pregnancy!"

The woman came, took a mug full of pomegranate seeds and said:

"Oh Allah, Allah be praised and exalted! With Your might and by Your miracles and Your exalted state and Supreme Being, let me have a daughter or a son like the seeds of this pomegranate, red and good. Praised be Allah sublime, who is mighty with His ability, power and supremacy!"

Twenty years later she gave birth to a daughter whom she called Pomegranate Seed. The daughter was very pretty and and beautiful. Her beauty was incomparable. When anyone saw her, they would say:

"Pomegranate Seed is more beautiful than her mother!"

Then her mother became jealous and angry, whenever she heard that her daughter was more beautiful than she. Then her father started to like the daughter more than the mother. The mother, upon hearing this, would ask him:

"Why do you love the daughter more than me?"

He said to her:

"Because she is more beautiful and better than you."

Subsequently she started to ask the stars:

"Oh Stars, who is more beautiful, I or Pomegranate Seed?"

The Stars replied:

"Pomegranate Seed."

Then she asked the Moon:

"Oh Moon, who is better, I or Pomegranate Seed?"

The Moon replied:

"Pomegranate Seed."

She asked:

"Oh Arabs, who is better, I or Pomegranate Seed?"

They said to her:

"Pomegranate Seed."

In the end she asked all the people, and all of them prefered Pomegranate Seed. Then she said:

"I want to spill the blood of that girl and to slay her."

The mother prepared provisions for a journey and said to her daughter:

"We want to go to your uncles."

The daughter said to the mother:

"No, how can we go? I don't know my uncles."

The mother said to her:

"I want to introduce you to your uncles."

Then she took the daughter through mountains and valleys in which there was nothing except hyenas and ghouls, and other such creatures. They both stayed in an area full of rocks until night fell, the sun set, and the world became dark. There was no moon.

The mother said to her daughter:

"Let's go to sleep."

The daughter said to her mother:

"My hair is joined to yours, my flesh is tied to your flesh, and I shall sew my dress to yours, and your will be beneath my head, and my arm will be beneath your head."

The girl remained asleep until the Sun rose upon her, and she became hot. She woke up to find that nobody was beside her. She started screaming:

"Mother! Mother!"

There was nobody near her.

Then a ghoulah came and said:

"May Allah watch over you, Oh darling Pomegranate Seed! Allah be with you! May the safety of Allah be with you, and whoever forsakes you will be forsaken by Allah! From where did you come to me? From the gate of happiness to the gate of hell?"

The girl said to her:

"I was brought here by good fortune and by luck."

Thereupon the ghoulah took the girl with her.

The ghoulah was roaming freely with gazelles, and she took the girl along with the gazelles to a cave, to a natural cave, like the ones used by goats. She let the gazelles into the cave, and brought the girl in was well. She warmed her and dressed her. She said to her:

"You are my daughter, by the covenant of Allah, and whosoever betrays you will be betrayed by Allah! For I have been looking for you for a long time, Oh Pomegranate Seed!"

The ghoulah roamed with the gazelles, and every day she would take the gazelles with her as she roamed about. When she returned, she would shout:

"Oh Pomegranate Seed! Open the door for the gazelles!"

And Pomegranate Seed would clear the door for the gazelles.

The ghoulah led the girl in the cave, and all of a sudden she saw houses in the interior of the cave. The ghoulah showed her a door and a faucet, and told her that she was allowed to open them, but warned her that whatever room was closed she should beware of opening it. She gave her the keys to the entire place.

Once the ghoulah was absent, the girl went around and started to open the places which she had been warned not to open. She opened the first faucet, and dipped her finger into it. All of a sudden, her finger was all gold, and then the gold stuck to her finger. She tried to remove the gold from the finger, but could not. She opened another place, and all of a sudden there were two girls there, hanging by their hair. She did not speak to them, but closed the door, and while doing so she injured her finger, and wrapped it up.

The ghoulah came back, and said to Pomegranate Seed:

"Open the door for the gazelles! They give milk from their horns, they give milk from their teats. Oh Pomegranate Seed! Open the door for the gazelles, they give milk from their horns, they give milk from their teats!"

She opened the door and, behold, the finger of Pomegranate Seed was wrapped up. The ghoulah asked her:

"Why is your finger wrapped up, Oh my darling?"

She said to her:

"It was injured."

The ghoulah knew the truth, and she said to her:

"Let me see it!"

The girl said to her:

"No, it hurts me."

"Let me see it!"

"No, it hurts me!"

The ghoulah said to her:

"Did I not tell you not to open that door?"

However, the matter was of no importance, since the girl was dear to her.

One day, a merchant was hawking his goods, shouting:

"Buckles, combs for sale!"

It was the first time that a merchant came to this place on a donkey.

Pomegranate Seed looked at his wares, because she had much gold to spend. She asked his permission to take his merchandise. He asked her:

"Are there any human beings in this place?"

She said to him:

"I am a human being, I am Pomegranate Seed."

He said to her:

"Pomegranate Seed used to live in our neighborhood, but her mother took her and shed her blood."

She said to him:

"I am Pomegranate Seed. Is my mother still there?"

He said to her:

"Yes."

She said to him:

"I want to entrust you with a little gold to give to my mother."

He said to her:

"Good."

She gave the merchant a little gold wrapped in an envelope, to deliver to her mother.

Her mother was very upset about her daughter. She wanted to kill her, she no longer wanted to have a child. She wondered, saying:

"I abandoned her among the debris of rocks, and yet she is still alive! I want to kill her!"

She said to the merchant:

"Return to me!"

She bought a poisoned comb for her daughter and when the merchant returned, she gave it to him for her daughter. She told him:

"I entrust you with it for my daughter. Let nobody else open it, except my daughter, and when you arrive there let her wash and clean herself, and make sure that she combs her hair."

The merchant set on his rounds, carrying his gold and his property. He went to Pomegranate Seed, and told her:

"This is what your mother entrusted to me!"

Thereupon she heated up water on the fire, and washed her hair. Then she started to comb it. The first time she combed her hair the teeth of the comb broke on her head. The second time her fingers were broken.

The third time Pomegranate Seed died.

The ghoulah came back from afar, and started to shout:

"Pomegranate Seed! Open the door for the gazelles!"

Nobody answered. The ghoulah said to herself:

"If I find her asleep, she is safe, may Allah be with her, and may the trust of Allah be with her! But if I should find her alive and awake, by Allah, there is nothing else I can do but eat her, eat Pomegranate Seed!"

The ghoulah went to open the door, and there was Pomegranate Seed dead.

"Oh darling! Oh Pomegranate Seed! Oh Pomegranate Seed! Oh Pomegranate Seed!"

Pomegranate Seed did not answer. The ghoulah put rugs and carpets on the floor, dressed Pomegranate Seed in the finest clothes of the most expensive kind. The gold that the ghoulah heaped on Pomegranate Seed could not be heaped on the backs of the camels of love.

She sad:

"Oh camels of love! I beg your trust, don't descend unless you are told the phrase 'By the life of whoever is on your back!' Only then descend!"

The camels of love flew. There were some children playing ball in the field. Among them was a poor man. He was saying:

"Come down, Oh camels of love!"

But the camels did not come down.

The poor man then said:

"By the life of whoever is on your back, come down, camels of love!"

The camels of love came down. When they came down, the poor man said to them:

"Keep all the money and gold, I want to take only the girl! I shall ask my mother to wash her, and we shall bury her."

The youth, took the property and the gold, and the rugs and carpets, and he took Pomegranate Seed and brought her to his mother. He said to her:

"Oh my mother!"

She said to him:

"Oh my son!"

He said to her:

"Heat up some water, Oh my mother, and wash this young woman. I found her dead on the back of the camels of love. Let us wash her and bury her."

She said to him:

"Yes, Oh my son!"

Thereupon she started to light the fire, and she brought a pot that resembled a jar of copper, and brought water and heated it. She carried in the girl and spread mat under her, and started to wash her for burial. Who would be willing to bury her? As she was washing her, the woman shook the girl's head, and behold there was four or five teeth of a comb in her head. She plucked out the first one, whereupon Pomegranate Seed said:

"Ouch!"

She plucked out the second one, and again Pomegranate Seed:

"Ouch!"

Then she plucked out the third one, and she said:

"I witness that there is no God but Allah, and I witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah!"

When she said that, the woman said:

"This girl was dead, and now she has come back to life!"

She brought clothes for her, and dressed her, and she woke up, and behold, she was Pomegranate Seed!

The woman stopped showing her to the Arabs (i.e., she hid her), fearing that somebody would her and take her to marry his son, or that the king would take her for his son.

Day after day the old woman would go to the water, and Pomegranate Seed would ask her:

"Let me go with you to the water!"

But she said to her:

"No, Oh my darling!"

One day the king's son saw her and fell in love with her. He told his father and mother:

"I want the sister of the poor boy!"

They said to him:

"He has no sisters."

He said to them:

"I shall never get better if I don't get that girl!"

They went to the old woman and told her.

She said to them:

"This is my son's wife, and her story is such and such and such. She is not my daughter."

They said to her:

"We want her even so, even if by force!"

The old woman took the girl and went to the king's son. He was told her story, from its beggining to the end. The king's son did not stop wanting to go to see the poor girl. They told him:

"Allah sent her as a gift to the poor man; it is a sin for you to take her away. You can take any girl you want."

He said:

"Yes, of course!"

He came and gave the poor man fifty sheep, fifty goats, and fifty cows, and gave him property. He then married Pomegranate Seed, and brought her to the poor man.