#it somehow FLIPPED itself over while being placed

[hihomeghere]

Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3

He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 

He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 

Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 

When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 

You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 

But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?

He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.

Violet.

Violet Beatrice Morgan.

His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 

It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.

You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 

With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 

You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 

“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.

“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.

“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”

“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?

Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?

You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?

“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 

“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.

“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.

“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 

“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.

“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.

“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 

You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”

“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”

“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 

“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 

Oh.

If we have one some day. 

“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 

“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 

“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.

“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.

[anantaru]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟏 — 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

✦ kinktober day 11 — overstimulation feat. diluc : cyno : ayato : zhongli x fem! reader | kinktober masterlist.

✦ warnings: nsfw

✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

diluc was fixating on your cunt for hours now, gathering your slick on his tongue to have them melt with his spit, using a perfect combination of flicking his wet muscle around your sobbing clit while being knuckles deep in your cunt with his fingers. You're rocking your hips forward to multiply your pleasure by a tenfold, crying out his name in soft n needy chants.

"more." he's groaning against your pussy, one of his hands gripping the soft flesh of your hips to hold you closer, you felt your juices pool out of you upon experiencing newfound pleasure. Diluc suckles on your clit for a few more seconds before flicking his tongue over your bundles, the pace on his fingers increasing. You couldn't remember the last time an orgasm had hit you this hard, spasming against him as your legs shivering around his head.

Yet after experiencing and coming down from your high, you realized that diluc never intended to stop, his tongue still working wonders on your pussy. The overstimulation took place soon after, hitting you with shockwaves you were barely able to register as you cried out his name, multiple times, eyes filled with tears which rolled down your cheeks sinfully. Diluc would always do this, forgetting everything around himself because of your addicting cunt, making sure to have you climax at least another two times before it's time for him to fuck you silly.

✦ 𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎

cyno's strong arms were tightly caging you in while he rested his forehead against yours, your hands placed on his shoulders while he pistoled his cock into your cunt. Your chest was heaving, cyno couldn't take his eyes off you, admiring your stiff nipples bouncing up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. You let your head fall back into the soft pillows, the rough drag of his cock straining your walls was otherworldly, lewd and somehow turning you into an utter mess.

Cyno never let it on, but he very much knew what he was doing, always retracting his hips that he's hitting against that one particular sweet spot of yours, meaning he's got you completely figured out, without a doubt. The infuriating teasing from prior was still harsh on you, sensitivity rising as the both of you worked in tandem, cyno's shallow thrusts making you froth out of your mouth, a faint line of drool running down the side of your lips.

Your silent screams soon turned into loud n needy moans, the overstimulation showing itself as your legs tightened around cyno's body, making it more difficult for him to move. The way his hips stuttered was the turning point, your cunt gushing around his impressive girth as the overstimulation hit you a tenfold now, ripping you away from everything as you shivered violently underneath your lover who turned to you, showering you in soft and silent praises, telling you just how good you did for him.

✦ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

"you're doing so well, darling." ayato told you in an encouraging way, his cock working its way in and out of your precious cunt. You mewled out loudly as he flipped you to your stomach, getting up to spread your legs and kneel in between them, cock leaking in his hands while he was lazily fisting it in front of your sobbing hole. Ayato would occasionally tease you with his tip, sliding it in between your glistering folds to collect your slick on his length, before prodding himself in again.

Your legs were shaking, he's been going at it for hours now, the last few weeks were hard on him, barely being able to see you! ayato just missed you so fucking much and needed to show it to you. You're moaning his name out loudly as your third orgasm approached you, barely being able to properly relish in it because of your exhausted state. Your hips bucked at him, ayato continued to snap his hips forward in an otherworldly speed, you couldn't remember the last time he was this needy for your cunt.

"I want to ruin you." panting in between his words, ayato wrapped his hands around your legs to pull them on top of his shoulders as your mind was in a haze, clouded from the multiple orgasms you experienced. He rolled his hips expertly, listening to your fucked out babbles and chants as your body shuddered underneath his touch, "take my cock just like this, darling." he's grinning at you through half lidded eyes, being certain that his plan to ruin your body tonight was a complete success.

✦ 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

"please let me rest." you're mewling at zhongli, who was currently mercilessly thrusting himself in and out of your cunt. Tiny sobs were bubbling out of your chest while he proceeded to grind himself forward, taking your face in his hand for a second to meet your gaze, "give me one more." it was almost as if he begged, desperate without another thought in his mind.

you're whining, nodding at him before trying your best to spread your legs further for him to properly continue his play. You're moaning out as you looked in between your bodies, sweat n cum keeping the both of you together and ruining the bedsheets underneath you. Zhongli wasn't giving you a moment to calm down, his hand wandering towards your heat to rub harsh circles on your clit, adding more strength behind his already inhumanely fast thrusts into your tight cunt.

His manly groans cracked as he felt you clench around his girth, pulling him into your warmth and keeping him there. Zhongli's eyes rolled back, adams apple bobbing thickly at the way he swallowed down, licking his lips upon hearing you scream his name. The overstimulation you experienced, the one he always seemed to inflict on you whenever the both of you were intimate, hit you hard as you arched your back into his figure, holding dearly against him to somehow gain control over your body again. Zhongli moves towards your lips now, capturing them in a small kiss, "just one more."

kinktober masterlist.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

[peachhcs]

second chances

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

being at will’s going away party leaves samy feeling confused, so she looks to gabe and ryan for help

2.5k words

woohoo a fic!! finally!! i had to rewrite this like 3 different times bc i just didn’t like how it was being written, so i think i finally like this one lmao. we are getting closer to samy and will getting back together, but keep requesting for things! (i’m also working on my other requests dw!!)

au masterlist

"okay, smile!" samy exclaimed while she held her little digital camera up to her face to get a picture of the boys all together. technically, she forced them into a photo—somehow being able to find all seven of them for a quick photo.

will's house was packed with people everywhere, so even finding an open space in his yard was like some miracle. the hockey boys smiled widely as samy's flash went off and the picture quickly displayed itself on the screen a moment later.

"aw, you guys are so adorable," the girl laughed, flipping the camera around so they could see the result.

"we should get that framed," ryan smiled as well.

"we'll take it again in like ten years to see how much we've changed," drew joked, but it only made the realization set in further that they probably wouldn't be all together again until then.

"samy should get in with her three boys," aram urged meaning her, ryan, gabe, and will.

it was determined pretty early on that those three and samy were the closest. not saying that the others weren't close with her, but it was easy to see how much of a connection all of them had with one another. samy's cheeks flushed, but she didn't have time to oppose because aram grabbed the camera from her hands and motioned for the four of them to get together.

"smile big!" the taller brunette grinned.

gabe and ryan smushed samy between them while will hung off gabe's side. their arms brushed, touching slightly behind gabe's back. the flush on the girl's cheeks didn't disappear as the flash went off again with the other boys peering over aram's shoulder.

"best one yet," the hockey player laughed, passing the camera to samy so she could see.

the sight was bittersweet. they all sported wide smiles while clinging to each other to hold onto the last moments with one another because who knew when they'd all be in the same place at once again. schedules were only getting busier as they grew into their careers. plus, things between samy and will were still somewhat rocky even though they were back on speaking terms.

that seemed to be the worst part.

"thanks for putting up with my pictures," the youngest hughes smiled, shutting off her little camera for now.

"i think you're the only reason we even have pictures together, so we should be thanking you," drew teased a bit making the others laugh. samy's gaze swept over the still massive crowd in the backyard until she landed back on will.

he must've sensed her gaze on him because he met hers almost immediately. a look neither of them really understood sat on their expressions—a mix between "i want to talk to you" and "i shouldn't talk to you" that had them struggling which one to choose.

will's family was hosting all of the hughes family for the weekend while they were in boston for the farewell party. the two only made a bit of small talk since last night when they got in to now. it was hard to describe what their relationship was at the moment. they sort of fixed things at the vacation back in july, but not much talking happened outside of that.

"hey will!" someone broke the two from their staring. both of their gazes slid to whoever just called his name, seeing a family friend motioning the blonde over.

samy watched as will said goodbye to them for now before pushing his way into the crowd. her eyes fell from his retreating figure until she found gabe's who must've been watching that entire interaction. the look in his eyes told her that he knew what she was thinking. he nodded his head, a motion saying to walk with him to somewhere less crowded so they could talk.

somehow, her and gabe have been reading each other a lot more easier than before. it must've been something they picked up ever since samy began ranting to him about everything going on her life since she didn't have will there anymore.

the two slipped away from the group through the yard until they were in the front of the house. gabe led the way to the front steps where he sat on one of the bottom ones, patting the spot beside him for samy to sit down.

"how are you?" the dark-haired boy began.

"i'm fine," the girl shrugged.

"are you guys still not talking much?"

samy pursed her lips, eyes on the car-filled driveway, "i guess. we haven't talked a whole lot since i got in last night."

"does that bother you?" gabe really turned into a therapist whenever him and samy talked about the breakup because he asked questions only her therapist would ask her about her feelings.

samy had to laugh at that thought making the boy beside her raise his eyebrow, "sorry, i'm just laughing because you kind of sound like my therapist. i don't know how i'm feeling to be honest. kind of weird? sad? happy?"

"i get it. i'm sure it's weird being here still," the hockey player sympathized and samy nodded.

"i just..i guess it makes me kind of sad that..all of our lives will and i talked about this day happening and how he'll go off somewhere to pursue his dreams and i'll still stick right by his side, but now we can hardly talk to one another and he's leaving in three days to the other side of the country," she bit her lip, pushing all the tears edging its way up her throat.

a frown found its way to gabe's lips, slowly pulling his arm around the girl for a small hug. his gesture forced the tears out as samy buried her face into her hands. he didn't say anything, instead letting her cry it out while he offered the best comfort he could in silence.

"i'm sorry. i think everything is just hitting me again," samy apologized while she wiped her tears away.

"don't apologize. it's good to feel all of it. i get it. this whole weekend has felt sad," gabe rubbed her arm in little circles.

"tell me about it," the girl mumbled earning a little chuckle from both of their lips.

samy rested her head on gabe's shoulder. the two sat in silence for a moment until they caught sight of ryan coming up from the backyard. the brunette smiled when she saw her other friend. "they told me you guys disappeared this way," ryan explained while a small smile, but it faded when he saw samy's somewhat red eyes.

"are you okay?" he quickly wondered.

"yeah, i'm fine. just got a little sad," she laughed, but not in a funny way, more like to fill the awkward silence kind of way.

ryan found gabe's eyes as the two of them spoke in only looks before he joined the two on the bottom step. "this could be your chance to talk to him more. i know it's been kind of awkward still between you guys."

"i don't know. it seems like all we can manage is weird small talk before things get awkward and tense," samy frowned. "i just wish things could go back to how they were, you know?"

"i mean..technically, you still can. you just have to do a lot of talking," ryan shrugged.

"i don't even know if i want to take him back or even like..go back to being in a relationship. do you guys even think i should?" the girl glanced between ryan and gabe. the two looked at one another again, their expressions unreadable.

"you know we can't answer that," gabe finally said.

"can you please just humor me and tell me because i can't even decide for myself," she rolled her eyes.

"he is still your best friend, you know. that kind of shit doesn't just go away, no matter how much you guys don't talk or whatever. from what we know, he's really sorry for hurting you," ryan glanced at gabe again for a second. "i don't know if we're supposed to tell you this, but like a few months ago when he was at the bauer combine he called us from rutger phones having a panic attack about you. it sounded like he really regretted what he did and he knows how much he messed up."

samy took in ryan's words, her mouth forming into an oh.

"do with that what you will, but he is really sorry and if you did take him back, he won't ever hurt you like that again. he was being stupid and i'm not defending his actions, but he really did make a stupid decision and i do hate him for not talking to you before he did it," ryan continued when samy didn't respond at first.

she looked over at gabe who nodded in agreement to everything the taller brunette said.

"you know him more than we do, samy. it's really your choice, but i think you should at least try to hear him out more and let him talk to you. at least let your friendship happen again," the dark-haired boy added.

"even if i did take him back, we don't have summer anymore. he's leaving in three days," samy finally spoke again. she watched her friends exchange another glance like they knew something she didn't.

"just talk to him. you know what they say about distance. if they really love you then nothing else matters. not even being all the way across the country," ryan said.

it looked like samy had a lot to think about, but she appreciated the truth from the boys.

—

people left the party around seven leaving everyone else staying to help with the clean up. samy started in the backyard with a big trash bag picking up the cans and bottles people left around. she actually didn't understand how guests just left their trash when there were numerous trash bins all across the yard to throw stuff in.

the others were inside picking up the rooms, so she was by herself until the back door slid open. will stood on the back deck getting the trash up there, but his gaze kept looking over at samy further down the yard. the blonde glanced back inside where he met ryan and gabe's gazes. both of them gave him a thumbs up saying go talk to her.

will walked down the deck, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth, "need any help?"

his voice somewhat startled samy, quickly looking over her shoulder and meeting his gaze. "oh, uh, yeah, sure."

the awkward silence quickly overtook them as will picked up the cups and cans on the grass. samy thought about ryan and gabe's words from earlier, cursing to herself as she plucked up the courage to try and talk.

"the party was nice," she began.

will popped back up, smiling almost immediately, "thanks. mom basically planned all of it."

"yeah i could tell. she looked like she was stressing me about everything going well," samy laughed knowing how mrs. smith got with making sure everything always went perfectly.

"thanks for coming..it..it means a lot," will's tone softened out a bit.

"yeah, i'd never miss this. i'm proud of you. you're gonna do great," the girl managed a little grin.

"thank you. you're gonna do great this upcoming season, too," will said talking about samy's soccer season.

"thanks, i hope so. it's looking pretty promising," the brunette hummed.

she found will's gaze again. his eyes searched hers like he was looking for something in her expression before looking back up the yard and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"when do you leave for school again?" the boy wondered.

"not for another two weeks. pre season won't start until the middle of august," samy explained briefly.

"makes sense. when do your brothers head back to van and jersey?"

"pretty soon. they're gonna hang around for another week and then leave."

the question was on the tip of will's tongue, he just didn't know if he could bring himself to ask. it seemed like a stretch considering him and samy hadn't even really talked since july, but gabe and ryan insisted.

"it's kind of hard to believe i'm gonna be playing against them soon," will laughed a little as they moved to a different part of the yard.

"oh yeah, i know. playing against quinn and jack will probably be scary since you've never competitively played then," samy giggled mostly to herself thinking about quinn taking down will on the ice.

"i'm actually kind of scared to play them. luke is one thing, but they've got like..years of experience under their belts," will chuckled too.

"let's just hope they go easy on you first game because you're family," the youngest hughes smiled.

her and will fell into a more comfortable silence as they continued picking up people's garbage. the conversations felt a little easier now, so samy kept talking.

"what's the plans for the apartment?" she wondered because her and will used to talk for hours about what his place in san jose would look like.

"uh, i'm not sure yet. mom's been looking at pictures online, but we'll get a feel when we're there," the boy responded.

"hey, there's always the pinterest boards i made," samy joked, but she missed the look on will's face and the question on threatening to spill out.

"actually, i..i was wondering if you'd wanna be there?" the blonde got out, eyes on samy waiting for her reaction.

the girl stopped what she was doing, "what?"

"i know it's a really crazy ask considering we haven't even really made up, but i don't know. we always talked about how you'd be there helping me move-in and decorate. for some reason, i can't picture you not there," will explained himself briefly.

samy's expression softened out, heart swelling that will wanted her there still.

"oh. i..i mean..i don't have any money for a ticket there.." her cheeks flushed into a bright pink and it was a good thing it was dark so will couldn't see the embarrassing blush.

"that's okay. i can pay for it," he said.

"no, no. i can't..i can't make you do that. no," she shook her head.

"you're not making me do it. i'm willing to do it. i have the money," the blonde quickly shook his head.

samy sighed, her eyes bouncing from the grass to will's face. "are you sure?" she asked but more as a double meaning.

are you sure you want me there? are you sure about us? about me?

"yeah, i'm really sure. maybe it can be a way we can continue to..mend our friendship," will nodded even though saying friendship hurt because he wanted nothing more than to call her his again.

"i promise i'll pay you back," samy laughed a little.

"shut up, you don't have to pay me back. i know this probably won't be the only time i'm flying you out to california," the boy grinned a little making samy blush even further.

something in the air started feeling lighter as the two walked back up to the house. that awkward tension that had been building up for the last three months slowly began dissipating while the spark began rekindling.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of angsty dialogue options which pertains to stupid feelings prompts

“You need to get the fuck out of my head and into my arms right now because I can’t keep thinking about you like this while not being able to hold you; it’s driving me up the walls. You’re driving me up the walls, and the worst part is, you’re not doing shit that should make you drive me up the walls in the first place. You exist, and suddenly I can’t act right or think straight. It’s fucked.” 

“I wish I could hate you, but my wishes never come true.” 

“I’m so deftly terrified of falling in love. Because what if I end up with a broken heart? That thought itself is just so scary to me. I want to, but I can’t get over that fear.” “Then how about you let me be that first step you take into falling in love? I can help you get over that fear, if you’d let me.” 

“I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but then you come along, throw a middle finger right in my face, flip my world upside down, and have proven me so very wrong on that.” 

“I don’t like feeling whatever the hell this is.” 

“I could be doing the most interesting shit, and somehow the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, and then I end up thinking about you for the rest of the day.”

“I can’t tell if I’m lonely, or if I’m in love. Shit’s a little confusing.”

“Denial can only act as a temporary shield for your feelings. You know that, [name].” “Yeah, but that’s not going to stop me from denying. It’s the only thing I can cling onto for my own sanity, so please don’t take that away from me too.” 

“I see your name pop up on my screen and suddenly I have this huge, stupid smile on my face, and that’s the moment I know I’m more than just screwed.”

“Falling in love feels like a unique type of vulnerable, and I don’t— I don’t want to feel that way.” 

“I’m hung over on something that might never come to fruition.” 

“I’m tired of dancing around with you like this. What exactly are we?” 

“Thinking about you makes me feel so, so, so pathetic, because I can’t have you. I hate it. I hate feeling like this. Why are you making me feel like this?” 

“It’s funny, because I’m missing something that was never meant to be in the first place.”

“Wondering if I like you or if I’m just bored is a pretty shitty dilemma to have.” “You know, maybe I can help you sort that dilemma out.” 

“I think I miss what we could have been rather than what we were.”

“I can be with someone so much better than you, but all I can think about is you, even when I’m with that better someone.”

“People say they fall in love like they fall asleep — slowly, then all at once. But the way I fell for you can only be described as that feeling when you’re drifting off to sleep, only to feel like you’re falling, oh-so-suddenly. So suddenly that it ends up startling you awake; heart racing in your chest because it feels like you fell off the precipice of a cliff. It’s quick and sudden, and there’s no slowness to it. It’s a crash and burn type of love that I feel.”

“I still fell even though I knew it wasn’t going to end well. I knew, yet I still ran head-first into it. What is wrong with me?” 

“I didn’t see you through rose-tinted glasses. I saw the flaws, the red flags, the blemishes you couldn’t hide from me, yet I still ignored them because I thought maybe I could somehow make you a better person despite everything. That’s on me.” 

“You’re always on my mind, yet I feel like I’m not on yours — not even for a second.”

“I didn’t sign up to feeling like this.”

“Can you please give me space so I can get over you?” “…But I don’t want you getting over me.” “You don’t want me getting over you but you’ll never feel the same way I feel towards you! That’s so fucking cruel, knowing you have this hold over me, and despite it all, wanting to keep that hold over me.” 

“I have feelings for you that won’t fuck off, and it’s pissing me the hell off.” 

“I don’t mean to you as much as you mean to me, and it’s fine. I’ve accepted that as my reality.” “Based on what evidence do you think you don’t mean as much to me as I mean to you?” 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t let go of something which has proven to be hopeless time and time again.” “…Am I not good enough of a reason to not let go?” 

“I’ve given you so many pieces of me, [name]. And I’m spent. You’ve taken everything I could give — even the most important part of me. I’ve given it all to you. I’m fucking empty, because of you. So please, if this is the last thing I ask of you — don’t ask me for more, because I simply have nothing left to give.” 

“You’re everything I could ask for, but simultaneously, everything I couldn’t have.” 

“I could love you for a lifetime, and it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

“So I have these… Feelings for you. And they have me all fucked up. They keep me up at night, with the what ifs and maybes; with an excitement I don’t think I’ve ever felt before running through my veins, like a fucking drug. They have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind. It’s like I’m soaring, but then I think about the inevitable: what if all of this comes crashing down one day? That’s gonna fucking suck, so much. Which is why I didn’t want to feel these things, but you made it so hard not to. And now I can’t stop.” 

[llamagoddessofficial]

biggest of brain energy re warm bread and beloved skeletons - so.... might i offer you .................. patisserie/baker au??

the boys are all rival(ish) bakers/pastry chefs on the same cute little side block of a quaint walkable downtown.

Sans has that extremely detailed, finicky pastry work down pat, on top of all the strange new versions that keep, somehow, making filo dough more difficult and yet structurally impressive. he's tried all those cool gastro-chef techniques, but just loves & excels at the fancy little pastries. absolutely the type to just close the shop when he's sold out of whatever he felt interested in making a lot of that day. surprisingly good-yet-bad social media presence. makes the jokiest videos and jankiest signs advertising when he's got a new batch of Something Tasty out, but the most beautiful shots of his pastries.

Red is one of those not-so-surprisingly charming excon-type (maybe never actually in prison, but y'know) bakers that looks intimidating but makes the best goddamn homey baked goods you ever had. pies, breads, big soft filled rolls, anything that feels ghibli as hell, frankly. has a not-so-secret love of making those really decorative lattice-style pie crusts; can absolutely make art you wouldn't want to eat if not for how damned good you know the pie is. always the most slammed during autumn, has spirited """debates""" with Sans (who is directly across the cobbled street) whenever they get deliveries at the same time, often about incredibly inane but opinionated baking nuances. accidentally best friends with all the local widows and grandmas. frequently propositioned by all genders.

Skull is a bit of the odd man out - he used to work at a little old cakeshop on the corner, but Something Happened one day and that corner store has frustratingly been turned into Insert Encroaching Soulless Chain Here. he now works at the back of the little pizzeria, making the best goddamn pizza dough anyone's ever had. seeing him flip and spin those pizzas is art in and of itself. rumor still had it that there was someone on staff at that cakeshop that could make the most dazzling wedding cakes you ever did see, but they also made the flavors involved so harmonious you could cry....

....... MC is a new arrival, perhaps opening up her own little shop - a little cafe maybe, specializing in warm drinks and a simple menu of baked goods like croissants and scones and cookies, some finger foods, and most importantly Cozy Vibes.

maybe she puts out an ad for a proper baker to help her out while she makes the teas and coffees and runs the front....

... and maybe some shenanigans ensue ✧∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

genius. absolutely genius. allow me to lose my fucking mind

Mc opens up her delightful little cafe. It's small, obviously, since she's technically the only employee- though she's great at coffee she struggles to make anything more complex than a cookie for cafe food. Her croissants melt and flatten, her pies collapse, her attempts at macarons just spread out into a sheet. So! She puts out an ad!

Sans: Ironically, his habit of only making what he's interested in and randomly closing shop without warning has made his desserts even more sought after. The incredible intricate and unique nature of his treats give them an element of scarcity, and people will come from all over to get to his next batch early. The sign out the front says 'open 10am to 5pm monday to wednesday. open some thursdays, depends how i feel. closed the second friday in the month, unless we were open thursday before. open saturday. closed sunday'.

He was a bit suspicious of her cafe, he'll admit it. He's suspicious of anything new on the street. Various chain brands have been infiltrating the previously majority monster-run area, and he hates the way his favourite place is slowly being subsumed by shitty corporate machine-made food. But it only took one visit (purely out of curiosity) for him to get love at first sight.

Since his store has such a reputation, he can afford to flunk whenever he likes to go sit in with her and chat for hours; he's a welcome presence. After noticing her difficulty with baking he starts giving her tips but quickly graduates to giving her some of his stock, instantly boosting her popularity. She thinks he's giving her leftover stock he doesn't need- she has no idea he's making stuff specifically for her.

Red: Red and Pap do have a tendency to treat their business like it's a mafia. The way they call it the 'family business' often makes people think it's a front for organised crime. And it was, once- the two of them only opened the store to cover up what was happening behind the scenes. But then they enjoyed running a bakery so much that they dropped the crime. He doesn't like the way Sans has turned baking into something snooty and highbrow; Red thinks food should be delicious and comforting, not a one-bite commodity people pay out of the nose for.

Red becomes a cafe regular, he goes during breaks and straight after work. He spends most of his time standing up at the counter flirting relentlessly, but he's so on the dot that she usually has his order ready for him. He offers to teach her to make a good pie- "payment? what're you talkin' about, doll? seein' yer pretty face is payment enough fer me." There would definitely be some scenes of him teaching her to bake... standing behind her with his hands over hers, showing her the technique to fold dough, though neither of them are really concentrating because he's grinning like an idiot and she can only feel how hot her face is.

(He'd probably ruin it with a 'wish you'd pound my dough like that'. A swift smack, and the magic of the moment is over)

Skull: He's the one that responds to her ad.

Though he didn't mind his job, per say, he misses being able to make his own stuff. Pizza tossing can only do so much to fill the baking-shaped hole in his heart. He wanted to apply anyway, it was just a stroke of luck that the cafe owner turned out to be the love of his life. Though he's a bit spooky and looks at her like he can't see anything else, she's quick to accept him, telling him he can make whatever he wants- and that's when he works his magic. All the stunning cakes lining the display case are his handiwork.

He's a man of few words, and he doesn't like being in public, so he's always in the back baking and cleaning. He wishes he had the confidence to talk to her more. She brings him coffee whenever she has time, as thanks for all his hard work... she leaves foam art, since it's one of the few things she can do. Though when she leaves a heart, the coffee usually ends up going cold. He tends to just stare at the heart until the foam is gone.

[invested-in-your-future]

Years back there was still this prevalent idea that you can make your villain too evil. Now, this wasn't just something new nor came with the rush of YA novel adaptations - this has been going on for decades - many people, audiences, and authors alike, seemed to overestimate the value and capacity of things like public conscience and the like.

The idea that some characters might be evil "just because" was frowned upon as outdated or "inconvenient because others would realize they are evil.".

From that would stem the wave of ideas that would essentially whitewash and flufferize concepts like discrimination, fascism, class warfare, and so on, leading to what I like to call "comfortable discrimination" - where the audience can consume the media without feeling like they have been called out on things or made to think about the nature of their world.

Racism would be subtle or misguided with the focus being on "proving the racists wrong" rather than acknowledging that sometimes you can't - that it's more complex than "lack of understanding" and those perpetuating it don't need to be "idiots who simply don't know any better" - that some profit off it, while others might be true believers.

In fact, anyone who was overt in their evil would BE portrayed as incompetent sniveling idiots who would get foiled by their own personality traits.

Evil is pitiful, you see - it is too busy trying to hurt others to be efficient and ends up hurting itself.

The only "evil" that can be overt and successful is something inhuman.

And, on the flip side, using overt methods would be vilified for good guys too. After all, if discrimination is merely "something you can beat by proving them wrong" and the extremes lead to villains foiling themselves, then your heroes should absolutely be unwilling to be anything but centrist.

If good guys were to do something that could be seen as flawed, a narrative like that would have to work over-time to show how it actually wasn't flawed and they were in the right.

Looking back, I think there are very few fictional works that epitomize that issue the way RWBY's Atlas story arc's writing did.

They had a Kingdom with a well-built-up set of issues, a set of heroes that just went through life-changing experiences that should have left them conflicted and divided, and a setting ripe for drama and personal conflict years in the making - they had been setting up something with Atlas since the show's first season after all.

Somehow it all had ended up as it always did - with a pointless giant monster, maiden hot potato, lack of characterization for leads(and one of them is FROM THERE?!), some character assassination, and nothing of value being said.

It was truly an achievement in sterilizing discrimination and then placing exclamation points on all the wrong things - warping what could have been an engaging story with interesting villains into, honestly, I have no idea what.

What could have been an interesting arc about human nature, evil within human hearts, and personal conflicts (and being freed from them) ended up a messy, weird thing with lots of padding and not much mattering in the long-run.

Leaving the whole show worse-off in the end.

[ticklishfiend]

A Plan Fit for an Angel (Good Omens)

(Lee! Aziraphale/Ler!Crowley) (brief lee!crowley/ler!aziraphale)

Summary : Crowley’s dignity was positively shattered being tickled by Aziraphale two weeks ago. Well, only one way to fix that: getting revenge. [see part one here! this is a sequel]

a/n : i lobe them sm

Word Count : 3626

hope u enjoy! :)

. . .

There are two types of demons: Those that like to strike as soon as they see their target, and those that plan their evil-doings methodically, thinking out every angle so they can strike their prey when they least expect it.

It might shock some to find that Crowley tends to lean more towards the latter.

It had been two weeks since Aziraphale had pestered Crowley with those god-awful jokes, relishing in his demon’s irritation. Two weeks since Crowley had been tickled into the couch cushions so Aziraphale could win an argument.

So for two weeks, Crowley has been planning.

And planning for Crowley doesn’t mean he just thought real long and hard about how he’d make his move. No, planning requires research. Lots and lots of research.

Tickling isn’t something Crowley would call a regular occurance between the two of them. Yes, it happens, has happened, but if you were to ask for something defining that they do together, tickling would be quite low on his list, if it made it there at all.

So maybe, before he strikes, he’ll need something of a…refresher.

Aziraphale stood in the bookshop’s tiny kitchen, making himself a cup of tea. Crowley stood at the doorway, wondering if his angel knew he was there.

“I know you’re there, yknow?”

Ah. So he does.

Doesn’t matter. He knows Aziraphale will continue to read through his book on the counter, waiting for his water to heat in the kettle like Crowley wasn’t even there. He was too comfortable in Crowley’s presence…making him far easier to attack.

So Crowley sauntered behind Aziraphale, miracling up a feather from his wing. He heard a page being flipped.

“Whatcha readin’?” Crowley asked, before placing the feather under Aziraphale’s shirt without having to move a finger. Real magic truly was the best thing since sliced bread (trust him, he was there when it happened, sliced bread was quite the invention for the time).

“Oh it’s a lovely book, I’ve read it many times but somehow I keep coming back to it. Georgette Heyer’s ‘The Black Moth.’ Quite a page turner; it takes place in 1751, during the—AH-!” Aziraphale flinched, his right arm gluing itself to his side.

Crowley smirked behind Aziraphale, still looking over his shoulder at the book. His finger waggled near Aziraphale’s coat, a magic tether traveling from it to the feather. “What was that, angel?”

“Er, nothing I just—well I think there may be something in my shirt. I do hope it’s not a bug,” Aziraphale said, before snapping his fingers. A feather floated down onto the pages of his book. A black feather, to be precise.

Aziraphale clicked his tongue. “I see.”

“How peculiar,” Crowley grinned. “Wonder how that got in there?” He walked right out of the room to avoid further accusations, all of which would probably be correct.

Stage one: complete.

Now onto stage two. Snake time, baby.

Crowley very rarely switched to his snake form these days. Really no need, plus any time he did he was usually beaten within an inch of discorporation by a horrified human. So no, he doesn’t typically take his snake form anymore.

But occasionally, when he’s feeling rather…well, one might use the word clingy (Crowley detests such accusations), he’ll be a snake for a few hours just for the excuse to curl up on Aziraphale’s lap while he reads.

This usually embarrasses Crowley, not exactly one open to admitting his love of cuddles and pets and head scratches. Which is why he’s especially excited about snake time today, since he’s getting to embarrass Aziraphale this time and not the other way around.

He’d taken his form around 20 minutes ago, giving himself time to adjust to the change and alert Aziraphale of his body today. When he heard, Aziraphale went and made a cozy spot for himself on the couch, beginning to read his book. It was a silent code to Crowley that Aziraphale was ready for cuddles whenever he was.

It was no surprise when Crowley slithered his way onto the couch, his now curled body finding purchase on Aziraphale’s lap. The angel got to petting, resting his book along the serpent’s scaled back. He scritched softly at Crowley’s head, running his hand down the length of his now much longer body.

Crowley almost got lost in the comfy-ness of it all when he felt Aziraphale stray too close to his underside, a sensitive area on both of his bodies. Ohohoh, the plan, yes right, I’ll get on that now.

With the sneakiness only a serpent could possess, he slowly moved his tail around until he found the area buttons can’t close up on Aziraphale’s shirt, and slithered his way in. Bingo.

He only allowed himself about an inch’s worth of entry, can’t get too confident now. He waited a few moments, listening for Aziraphale to stir or speak up. He didn’t move, though, so that’s a good sign. Now he can strike.

Crowley fluttered his tail back and forth, like a rattlesnake in slow motion. Aziraphale huffed.

“Is that you down there?” He asked, voice a little wobbly like trying to hold something back. Got ‘em.

“Is what me?” Crowley said in his tired, I’m-far-too-comfortable-to-care voice.

“It is you!” Aziraphale let out a giggle through his words, moving Crowley around in his lap to stop the incessant tickling that was still taking place on his lower belly. “Aha-! Crowley, stop!”

“I really don’t know what you mean,” Crowley yawned. “And stop moving me, m’comfortable.”

“I will not!” Finally, Aziraphale found the end of Crowley’s tail, pulling it out of his shirt and readjusting Crowley in his lap. “Now you stop that or I will be putting you off to the side.”

Crowley huffed, his body adjusting under his head in a way that almost looked like his head was laying in his arms. “Whatever. Didn’t even do it anyways. Punishing me for something I didn’t do? Now that’s just cruel.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, going back to petting Crowley while fixing his gaze back on his book.

Well, he really didn’t wanna risk ending this. Might as well enjoy it and plan for the next stage in his great scheme.

Which, as it happened, took place the very next day, snake Crowley no more.

Aziraphale sat on his favorite chair, listening to a record he recently bought at Maggie’s shop. He was the picture of content.

Crowley was bouncing on his heels ready to ruffle the angel’s feathers.

“Mmyes, some good ole’ Stravinsky. Rather liked that guy, with the whole y’know, riot debacle,” Crowley made his way around Aziraphale’s chair, leaning against its back. “Great fun that was.”

“Yes, that was a rather difficult event. I was there, you know, but I truly was only there to see the show,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley hummed, having heard the story before. He looked at Aziraphale’s ear below him, giving a puzzled look.

“What’s that in your ear?”

Aziraphale furrowed. “My ear?”

“Yes yes, there’s something in your ear.”

Aziraphale’s hand shot up to feel around his ear, “Where?”

“No you—you’re missing it, it’s nothing but a piece of fuzz, I think. Here, let me-“ He shooed Aziraphale’s hand away, before using his pointer to gently prod and scrape along the shell of his ear.

Aziraphale’s shoulder shot up. “Aha, wait, wait—there’s really no neheheed-“ He batted at Crowley’s hand, but couldn’t dissuade him.

“No seriously, I can get it if you just give me a moment-“ he wiggled the finger, and this time Aziraphale shot out of his chair with a quick giggle before turning and giving Crowley a pointed look.

“You’re messing with me,” Aziraphale straightened his coat before giving his ear a quick scratch. There was a smile small on the corner of his lips.

“Now why would I do that?”

Aziraphale shot him a look, “I’m not sure, but I know that’s what you were doing.”

Crowley walked toward Aziraphale until they were eye to eye. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, before walking out.

Stage three: complete, but Aziraphale was definitely onto him now. Time to set the real plan in motion.

Like it started, Crowley’s plan took place in the back room, wine in each of their hands as they talked and bickered and laughed with each other.

After having made Aziraphale laugh at one of his favorite stories to tell, Crowley smiled and remembered. Admittedly he had gotten a bit tipsy and nearly forgot about the whole thing until he saw his angel folding over in laughter just moments ago. Made him remember what this was all for.

He glanced over at the desk, noting Aziraphale’s current book having a very familiar bookmark peeking out of its pages. He had actually noticed this days ago, but was waiting until now to bring it up. Clever demon, he thought.

“What’s that there in your book?” He gestured lazily at it, sitting up like it was of great intrigue to him.

“Oh that’s…” Aziraphale looked at the book, like it was the first time he’d noticed it there. “Well, it’s my bookmark, of course.”

“Mmyes obviously it’s your bookmark. I meant what is it, exactly? Cause I don't know if I recognize this one.”

Aziraphale looked a bit flustered. “Erm, well it’s…it’s a feather, actually. But it works just as nicely as a bookmark.”

Crowley hummed. “Aren’t your feathers white, angel?”

Aziraphale looked without words for a moment (oh how Crowley just loved flustering his angel), before straightening his back with newfound confidence. “Well I didn’t say it was my feather, did I?”

“No, you’re right, you didn’t,” Crowley said, resting his chin in his palm as he relaxed over the arm of the sofa. Sometimes he likes letting Aziraphale think he’s won before pulling the rug out from underneath him. “Is it mine?”

Aziraphale was definitely blushing now, but he stayed on guard. “Yes, it is. You…put that blasted thing in my shirt the other day when I wasn’t looking. When it fell into my book I…well, I didn’t have a bookmark before and then I did. It’s really as simple as that.” He smiled at Crowley all clever, taking a sip from his wine.

Crowley gave Aziraphale a puzzled look. “You think I put that in there?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Well obviously. You’ve been messing with me for days.”

Crowley smirked. “Have I now?”

Aziraphale glared at him. His eyes were a bit squinted, very suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything. You’re accusing me of something I have no recollection of. I’m just asking how you think I was messing with you,” said Crowley, thinking ‘that’s right, lure him in.’

Aziraphale hesitated, like treading over thin ice. “…you’ve been teasing me, and you know it. You—you’re doing it now!”

Crowley couldn’t hold back his grin anymore. “I mean, can you blame me?” said Crowley before standing abruptly. He took a swig from the bottle, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and sat it hard against the table. “You messed with a demon angel. You never mess with a demon.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He set himself back further into his chair, hands holding onto the arms.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ohh, don't act all innocent now. You were quite the tease a couple weeks ago, as I remember,” Crowley pointed a finger at Aziraphale, who actually started…grinning.

“You’re still worked up over that, aren’t you?” Aziraphale asked, a clever smile taking him.

“No—no, that’s not what I mean-“

“Oh I’m sure. But you can’t really deny that apparently, you’ve been thinking about this quite a lot,” Aziraphale looked as smug as ever.

Crowley was admittedly a little stuck for words at the moment. His mouth formed around rebuttals but they never made it past his throat.

He growled before rushing over and grabbing Aziraphale by the lapels.



“Maybe so—but only because I needed to plan out exactly how I was going to get you back,” Crowley growled, grip tight on Aziraphale’s coat. He liked how nervous the angel suddenly looked. “Like I said, angel. You don’t tease a demon.”

Crowley let go of him, walking back and almost pacing in thought. He waggled a finger in the air, “But I can’t do it now. No, no you’re expecting it now. I’ve gotta get you when you’re totally off your guard,” He plopped himself back down on the couch, pointedly not looking at Aziraphale.

“So…you’re not tickling me now?” Aziraphale raised a brow his way, taking a slow sip.

“No, I’m not.”

Aziraphale shrugged, placing his glass on the table. “I’d let you.”

Crowley paused. He looked at Aziraphale like the angel had grown an extra arm. “You’d let me?”

“Well, yes. I don’t actually hate being tickled. You just keep doing it when I’m in the middle of something, or I’m trying to relax,” he said, which was the last thing Crowley was expecting. “If you just asked I’d be happy to oblige.”

Crowley was near seething. He wasn’t actually mad, just utterly irritated by how nonchalant Aziraphale could be about the whole thing. Crowley was beyond embarrassed when Aziraphale tickled him the other week. How could someone not be embarrassed by it?

Crowley shook his head, “It’s the principle of the thing. You tickled me when I wasn’t ready, I’ve got to do the same back,” Crowley took a much needed swig. “S’how revenge works, angel.”

“Be my guest then. I’m happy to wait,” Aziraphale grinned, so pleased with how quickly things had turned in his favor. Sure, he was still going to get tickled eventually. But now he knows the real context.

Crowley was still so flustered over his little tickle attack the other week, that he had been meticulously planning on how to get Aziraphale back just to regain his dignity. He couldn’t deny how adorable that much effort and thought was.

Crowley grumbled, throwing his head against the back of the couch. “Grrrrbut it’s not as fun now,” he slumped. “Now you know it’s gonna happen. Shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yes, maybe you shouldn’t have,” Aziraphale said. “Because now, once you do tickle me, I’ll have no choice but to tickle you back immediately after.”

Crowley gaped at him, actually letting out a low chuckle. “Oh really? Well that’s not fair, is it? Supposed to be tit-for-tat, don’t you think?”

“No, no I don’t think so. See, it doesn’t affect me nearly as much as it does you. That’s the fun in it.”

“It does not affect me. S’just not right for a demon to have such a weakness. Makes sense when you’re an angel, s’why you don’t give a shit.”

“I’ll have you know it’s perfectly normal for a demon to be ticklish. I tease you for it because it’s fun, but it’s not like you can help it. It’s your vessel, dear. And it’s a vessel I think you should take much more pride in than you’re giving it right now.”

Crowley just grumbled again, not really having a good response. He knows he can’t help it, but it’s still so…weird. It’s not just because he’s a ticklish demon. It’s that he’s a ticklish demon who actually finds it a little bit fun when his angel is the one tickling him. That’s the part that’s got him all screwy.

But it’s not like he could just say that.

So he stewed for a bit, thankful for Aziraphale allowing him his stew time in peace. The angel sat contentedly, sipping on his wine and basking in the lovely tension their bookshop always seemed to hold.

Crowley stewed and stewed. Pinching his lips together, sipping on the wine, reaching over and filling Aziraphale’s glass when he realized it had gone empty. But he had to say something eventually, because obviously Aziraphale wasn’t going to speak first.

And also because he kind of still wanted this to happen. Just a little.

“Fine.”

Aziraphale looked up. “Fine?”

“Yes, fine, whatever, just get over here and let me get my fffffucking revenge already.”

Aziraphale grinned, already beginning to stand. “I thought you said I couldn’t expect it when you get your revenge?”

“Oh that’s still gonna happen,” He smiled as Aziraphale sat next to him, the demon already crawling into his space.

“You do remember I’m getting you back as soon as you’re done, right?” Aziraphale said with a nervous titter in his voice, backing up towards the arm of the couch.

“Yeah I know. Guess that just means I’ve gotta make this count,” Crowley said as he fully closed in on Aziraphale, cornering him into the couch. He just hovered, for a moment, his hands floating over Aziraphale without touching him.

Aziraphale swallowed. “Well…?”

Crowley grinned. “Well, what?” He wiggled his fingers, and Aziraphale tittered anxiously.

“Are you going to…?”

“Can’t say it now?” Crowley’s eyes were devilish as he smirked. “Is someone getting nervous now that I’ve got him cornered?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, a meek attempt at confidence over the situation. His slight squirming and tight lipped smile gave him away. “No.”

“No?” Crowley asked, before jerking his hand down near Aziraphale’s side, laughing at Aziraphale’s flinch. “I haven’t even touched you!”

“But you’re going to!” Aziraphale practically whined, a ghost of a giggle lacing his voice. “Just get on with it, I’m not sure I can take this.”

Crowley smiled genuinely. “Oh alright. But just because it’s you.”

Finally, after waiting oh so patiently for this moment the past two weeks, Crowley struck. He went straight for Aziraphale’s sides, thankfully unguarded since the angel had taken his vest off hours ago. Aziraphale yipped, trying to hold in his laughs for a brief moment before falling into those angelic cackles Crowley could eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“AH! Ahaha—Crohowley!” he laughed, sliding down unconsciously and only stretching his body out more for Crowley. “Wahahait!”

“Oh no, I’ve done plenty of waiting recently,” Crowley said, delivering sporadic pokes up and down Aziraphale’s torso, the angel’s cackles shooting up as he did so. “See, s’not so fun when it’s you getting tickled, huh?”

“It’s fuhuhun! Just—“ he was cut off by his own loud laughter as Crowley shot his hands into his armpits. Arms slammed against his sides, twisting and turning every which way because it was just too much. “—tihihickles!”

Crowley chuckled, ecstatic. “Bet it does,” he said, pulling one hand out from its trapped state in Aziraphale’s underarm to reach up and give his ear gentle scratches. Aziraphale squeaked, a hand shooting up to protect the ear. Seeing the opportunity, Crowley shot his hand right back under his arm, and Aziraphale shook his head through his laughter and shock.

“Nohot fahahair!” Aziraphale blushed, unsure of what to do with his hands. He opted to batting them around uselessly.

“You’re playing with a demon, angel, what did you expect?” Crowley said, before taking both hands out to squeeze, pinch, poke, prod and scribble all over Aziraphale’s tummy.

Aziraphale’s laughter was all over the place now. It was like he couldn’t decide whether to give deep, belly laughs or squeals and giggles fit for his angelic persona. The tips of Crowley’s ears grew warm at the sound.

“This is hysterical, by the way,” Crowley laughed, pinching Aziraphale’s hips and watching as he barked a laugh, twisting and gripping onto Crowley’s wrists. “I mean I knew you were ticklish, but this is priceless.”

“You’ve made your point!” Aziraphale giggled out helplessly. “I gehehet it! It’s bahahad! It’s sohoho baahahad—!” He fell into a giggle fit that made it impossible to hold a conversation, wheezing pitifully.

“I could keep going, yknow. Show you actual demonic torture,” Crowley grinned when Aziraphale shook his head, cheeks plump and pink from mirth. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll consider it.”

Aziraphale slapped Crowley’s arm playfully. Crowley poked softly but quickly over Aziraphale’s torso, easing up on the tickling just enough for him to get some words out. Aziraphale panted a bit, giggles lacing every breath.

“Okay okhahay! I’m sohohorry!” Aziraphale giggle, pushing Crowley’s hands away from him. Crowley let his hands be moved for just a moment, before giving one last quick squeeze to Aziraphale’s hips just to make him yip.

Crowley smiled down at his angel, watching him catch his breath and try to will away that blush from his cheeks. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with a pointed expression, “Wily serpent.”

Crowley laughed, “You asked me to!”

“I did not ask you to. You obviously wanted to do it so I…obliged,” Aziraphale shrugged, the lie plain as day on his face. Crowley couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yes, of course. Obliging the temptation of a demon really is your forte, after all,” Crowley teased, laying his front down on Aziraphale’s, making himself comfy. “Had your fun?”

Aziraphale sighed through a smile, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Crowley’s back. “Well…not quite.”

Crowley’s face puzzled before feeling Aziraphale’s grip tighten around his torso. His snake eyes grew twice their size, “C’mon angel, play fair.”

“This is fair. I told you what I’d do if you tickled me,” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead, not giving him a moment to think about that shit before digging his fingers into the backs of Crowley’s ribs.

“FuhuAHK-!” Crowley jolted, falling into helpless laughter on top of his angel. He squirmed and giggled and held onto Aziraphale’s body even tighter just so he could resist throwing himself off.

“‘Demonic cackle’ my behind,” Aziraphale teased. “You’re far too sweet for that, my dear.”

Crowley blushed, hiding that and his smile in Aziraphale’s neck, not missing the way the angel giggled whenever his nose brushed the skin.

The plan ended up being much more than successful. It was everything Crowley could’ve ever hoped for.

. . .

a/n : hope u enjoyed! consider reblogging if u liked it <3

[everydayyoulovemeless]

I am in dire need of a lone wanderer & companions reaction to the dunwich building and the krivbeknih.

Fo3 Companions Reactions to the Dunwich Building and the Krivbeknih

➼ Word Count » 0.9k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic

Charon doesn’t have any real opinion on the book itself other than it makes him feel incredibly uneasy. If it were up to him, he’d have it destroyed. There’s nothing good that could come out of an occult item such as this, and selling it for a profit just doesn’t sit right with him. The Dunwich Building doesn’t make him feel any greater, he’s just happy to be able to drop the book off and leave. Although, when you do place it on the altar, he gets burnt along with the rest of the ghouls in the building. It's not as bad, just a few scorch marks, but it still stings him.

The entire idea of the book being able to control people makes Clover uncomfortable, but as long as it's in your hands, she won't voice her opinions. Surely you know what you're doing, and she puts her full trust in you. If you mention anything about selling it to Obidiah, though, she'll panic a bit and beg you not to. How can you be so sure about this? Maybe you should think it over? On the flip side, however, she doesn't want you to take it to the altar either. I mean, why not just keep it for yourself? Control the swamp folk however you see fit? She would much rather it be in your hands than some old man anyway, and you're not so bad of an owner to her. So why not?

Star Paladin Cross thinks it's an abomination that should be terminated immediately. What kind of person would need something like this anyway? It's despicable, and she expects you to take it to the Dunwich building to have it destroyed instantly. In fact, she feels so strongly about it that if you were to sell it to Obidiah, she'd pull her sledgehammer out and ask you to reconsider. When the two of you finally find time to go down to the altar, she'll feel incredibly relieved. She finds the building itself to be odd, but at the end of the day, she's a realist who tries to explain all the paranormal instances with logical conclusions.

Jericho hated going down into the swamp folks' ritual site just to grab some book and would snatch it out of your hands to go sell it off so that the two of you could make some money out of your troubles. I mean, seriously, why go all the way down in some lousy cave for something you just plan on destroying? No, thank you. He's selling it. He also refuses to go anywhere near the Dunwich building. There have been a lot of stories he's heard from other raiders over the years, but none have ever been as chilling as the ones surrounding that place. He just wants to snag some caps out of it and leave.

Butch will act all jittery the entire time you spend around the Krivbeknih. It's unnatural, and he thinks that the two of you should put it back instead of carrying it around. What if it makes you both a target? Who else wants this book? He doesn't want any kind of threat following you guys around and would beg to just get rid of it. He genuinely couldn't care less about what you do with it as long as you discard it somehow. However, taking him to the Dunwich building to have the book burnt doesn't make him feel much better. He'll have his gun unholstered the entire time and will aim it at anything that moves, even his own shadow. He never wants to look back on this experience and doesn't want to involve himself with any cults for a long time to come.

Fawkes finds the book and religious aspects intriguing and might ask to study them a bit further before either of you do anything. Things like these don't ever lead to anything good, he's aware, but he also finds knowledge to be important when making decisions on such a broad scale. Who knows, maybe what he learns while looking into the book might help the two of you out later on down the line. Of course, at the end of the day, he thinks it's better to destroy it than to sell it off. The idea that someone could have complete control over an entire race of people is sickening to him, and he'd hate for anyone to feel any kind of entrapment. Fawkes isn't afraid of the paranormal, in fact, he finds it dreadfully interesting, and would probably spend way more time than necessary in the Dunwich building.

RL-3 thinks the swamp folk are disgraces to America, and would try to burn the Krivbeknih himself once you both obtain it. Honestly, it's embarrassing to know that such scoundrels are living in the States as we speak. That being said, he would scold you if you went and sold it to Obidiah. Have you not learned anything in your training? These kinds of behaviors are not to be tolerated. Besides, the wasteland could use a little community service, and the Dunwich building needs to be cleared.

Dogmeat's fur stands on end whenever you take it out of your bag. There's a certain aura around it that he can sense and it makes him anxious. He'll growl and bark until you finally put it back into your inventory. The Dunwich building isn't much better. He's much less on edge, but there'll be moments when he seemingly stares at nothing and barks uncontrollably. It's unsettling, to say the least.

[soul-controller]

A Change Of Possession

When Lindsay Thomas first thought that attending a Cincinnati Bengals football game with her boyfriend Aaron would be the death of her, she didn’t think that it would literally happen. But alas, Aaron’s eagerness to get to the stadium and witness his favorite team play led to his foot pressing down a little bit too hard and causing the car to reach dangerous levels of speed. All it took was one unaware driver to attempt a lane change and Aaron’s reflexes to avoid a collision failed miserably as the car spun out and ended up flipping and barrel rolling countless times. Throughout this endeavor, Lindsay had no chance to really comprehend what was going on. One second she was scrolling through social media and liking posts about her friend’s newest engagement, then suddenly there was a moment of intense pain before everything faded away into complete darkness…

Although the darkness was quite inviting to Lindsay, it seemed as though it wasn’t quite her time to move on as a stark white light was filling the dark tunnel that her soul was traveling through. As she finally was encompassed by the light, the woman slowly parted her eyelids and gasped at what she saw. Instead of seeing the pearly gates of heaven, she found herself standing in front of Paycor Stadium, the home of the Cincinnati Bengals.

Looking around in shock, the woman watched as fans stood outside the security turnstiles excitedly chatting with others in line. Despite her loudest attempts to get someone’s attention and ask what’s happening to her, it seemed as though no one else could hear her. On the verge of a breakdown due to the overstimulation of both going through a car crash and seeing this vast sea of fans ignore her, the woman lifted her hands up towards her face so she could cry into them. But upon doing so, the woman stopped as she saw that instead of the lightly tanned complexion that she often sported, Lindsay was now stuck with a ghastly blue complexion. Unfortunately though, the realization of what happened to her quickly became apparent as she watched a small slip of paper suddenly blow through the wind and pass directly through her hand as it tumbled down to the ground. Holy shit, I’m a ghost!

Although the woman was quite literally on the verge of a breakdown, this was ultimately hindered for the time being as a familiar voice loudly called her name. Lifting her eyes up and looking around, the woman gasped in relief as she saw a specter version of Aaron levitating above the crowd searching for her. As she began to run towards her high-flying boyfriend, she soon found that each stride was taking longer and longer for her feet to touch the ground as she remained in the air for a few milliseconds. Luckily though, this revelation was finally the knowledge she needed to propel herself up towards her boyfriend. Now at a rapid pace, the girl pushed off from the ground and slowly levitated up towards Aaron, who had finally found her and smiled widely.

Upon grabbing onto each other, the duo were relieved to find that they could physically hold each other given the fact that they were unable to feel anything else as they walked on the ground and over scattered trash. As they embraced and held each other into a tight hug, the duo were relieved to be reunited once more despite the tragic consequences.

Looking for a place more quiet than the rowdy lines outside the stadium, Aaron led the way for the couple to phase through the iron gates surrounding the venue and into the stadium itself. As they finally found themselves inside the inner halls of the stadium where the staff worked, the duo talked and tried their best to figure out what was going on. So while the circumstances surrounding it were fuzzy for some reason, the duo were confident in the fact that they had both somehow perished on the way to the football game. Yet as they were beginning to pass towards a bright light, the couple both found themselves outside the venue for some reason. Although they were unsure why this was occurring and whether it was due to unfinished business, the couple were sure of the fact that they didn’t want to ascend to the afterlife. They were young and still had lives to lead, so they didn’t want to give it up no matter how appealing the concept of the afterlife sounded. As such, it was Aaron who quickly proposed the idea of using their ghostly forms to possess someone at the stadium. Unsure of what was going on but with no other options, Lindsay listened intently as her boyfriend proposed the concept of possessing a Bengals football player and cheerleader so they could continue to be together in perfectly hunky bodies. 

Although Lindsay countered his idea with her own of just settling for another young couple attending the game, Aaron was able to quickly convince her that since they’re ghosts now they might as well go for something different than what they used to be. So despite the crazy plan that Aaron had proposed of taking over two unsuspecting peoples’ lives and the moral dilemma that continued to run through her mind, Lindsay was willing to try anything to get a second chance at life and thus eagerly agreed with Aaron’s idea.

As the couple slowly levitated through the inner halls of the stadium, Lindsay couldn’t help but jump as Aaron suddenly broke their silence with a loud gasp. “Oh shit, it’s Logan Wilson. He’s a great player” he exclaimed, extending a hand out and pointing towards a man quickly pacing down the hall. Although that name certainly meant nothing to Lindsay, a quick glance at his body made her instantly swoon. With his gorgeous visage (she was a sucker for a strong and prominent nose and nice plump lips) and slightly muscular physique that easily filled out his clothing, she immediately found herself encouraging her boyfriend to take him over. Envisioning having her boyfriend inside that body pleasuring her was quite an erotic sight, so she was quite relieved watching as Aaron built up the momentum and rushed towards the hunk. 

Given the fact that no human could see their presence, Logan was completely unaware of the spirit that was rushing towards him before it was too late. Upon watching as Aaron made an impact head-first into Logan’s firm chest, Lindsay watched in worry as the spectral version of her boyfriend fully disappeared within the player’s torso. For several seconds, she watched in worry for any sign that Aaron’s plan had been a success.

Soon, an answer came as Logan’s emotionless face suddenly shifted into a wide smirk. “It worked,” he quietly said, trying his best to keep his voice low to inform his girlfriend of what’s going on. 

Although Lindsay herself couldn’t feel any real sensations due to her ghostly form, she knew that that voice would give her butterflies in her stomach if she still had one! Even though Logan’s voice was fairly normal for an adult male, there was this underlying sense of deep dopeyness within it that left Lindsay swooning even more. She loved that Aaron was an accomplished journalist and all, but the concept of having her frail and weak boyfriend in the body of a hunky himbo was a dream come true.  

“Linds, I can’t see you anymore, but it worked. I’m Logan Wilson now! Go find a body as fast as you can,” he said with a smile, taking a moment to drop his bag and take a look at his two hands. After observing the wider and slightly callused hands that were fitting for a linebacker, Aaron couldn’t resist taking a moment to subtly run these hands along his body and feel the ripples of Logan’s abs and slight hills of his pecs. Upon cheekily taking a moment to lift the waistband of the player’s pants and underwear to take a quick glance at his new and improved manhood, the man smirked as he lifted his arms and flexed. Upon glancing at his modest biceps for a moment, the man’s attention was quickly caught by the brand new ink that he would be rocking while inside Logan’s body. Despite not being overly religious, Aaron was more than willing to go along with the cross tattoo due to just how badass he thought it looked on him.

While Aaron continued to flex and check out his new body, Lindsay was very much enjoying the view as she further fantasized about how much she was going to love kissing her boyfriend’s gorgeous new face and worshiping his muscles. Just as the two of them continued to check out more of Logan’s body, a loud voice down the hallway suddenly interrupted both of them. 

“Wilson, where the fuck have you been!?” 

As Lindsay and Aaron both looked up, they watched as a buff older man was angrily marching towards the two of them. Of course, as soon as he stopped in front of Aaron and began speaking to him, Lindsay reminded herself that there was no way that the man was speaking to her. Due to this, she observed as the older man, whose badge indicated him to be part of the coaching staff, grilled the possessed football player about not being in the locker room to get ready since the game was about to start. 

Trying his best to defuse the situation, Aaron apologized and said that he was running a bit late but he was ready to go. Given the fact that he couldn’t see where his girlfriend was anymore, the man’s eyes rapidly darted around as the coach grabbed onto Logan’s shirt sleeve and began to tug him towards the locker room. As he slowly mouthed for Lindsay to go find a body as soon as possible, the brand new hunk was ultimately pulled away into the thick crowd of staff heading towards the locker room.

Now with Aaron inside Logan’s body and being dragged away by someone on the coaching staff, Lindsay found herself feeling increased pressure to figure out a new host body fast. Understandably, there was a lingering sense of fear that waiting too long would cause her soul to get pulled back into the vast darkness as she traversed to the other side (whatever that may be). As such, Lindsay used her newfound gift of levitation to quickly bob and weave her way through the busy inner halls of the stadium in search of a new body.

Luckily, it didn’t take long before Lindsay’s eyes focused on a woman decked out in a cheerleading uniform. Although her back was turned while talking with someone and Lindsay could only see the woman’s slim and curvy figure along with her voluminous blonde hair that fell down past her shoulder blades, the recently deceased ghost was more than willing to accept it as her new body. As such, the female spirit propelled herself faster and faster in hopes of claiming her new life.

Unfortunately for Lindsay, it seemed as though the cheerleader had finished up her conversation as she suddenly turned and began to walk away. Given the rapid speeds she was traveling at, the woman was unable to slow herself down as she found herself slingshotting directly into the cheerleader’s chatting partner - a bulky football player. “Oh fuck no,” she exclaimed, trying her best to change her trajectory and curve past the football player to continue her plan of possessing the cheerleader. Although she was certainly willing to accept mostly any bodies so she could get a second chance to live again, trading her gender and becoming a man was a nightmare scenario for her. Despite loathing the concept, it soon became clear that her fate had been sealed as Lindsay closed her eyes while her spirit rushed directly towards the hunk and shot itself directly into his open mouth. 

Upon making contact with the back of the man’s throat, the impact of Lindsay’s soul provided an unintended side effect as the player suddenly tumbled back before falling back and landing on the hard concrete floor. Although Lindsay was still seeing darkness due to closing her eyes in fear of the impact, the addition of a nice warmth calmed the woman as she realized that she was feeling firm and corporeal once more. On top of this, the random sound of some low volume rap music filled Lindsay’s head and proved that she certainly wasn’t a ghost anymore. Despite only listening to upbeat pop music in her old life, she was more than willing to accept the mumble rap as a sign of success. Along with this realization , the sudden reappearance of physical sensations like pain against her head, shoulders, and ass further proved that her possession attempt was a success.

As such, Lindsay slowly peeled her eyes open and gasped as she found countless people hovering over her. Gasping in shock, the woman was caught off-guard as several members of staff (as evident by the badges hung around their necks) extended a hand out towards her and asked about if the man was ok. Through this sudden onslaught of questions, Lindsay was able to quickly pick up on the name of the man she was currently inside - Sam. Upon extending a hand out and allowing the staff to help her back up to the ground, the woman shook her head and rapidly blinked her eyes due to the intense migraine against the back of her head. 

Upon lifting an arm up to check on the pain at the back of hunk’s wide head, Lindsay’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the thick bulging bicep that limited how far she could extend her arm back. Just from the quick glance she made at it, Lindsay knew for a fact that the man’s bicep was bigger than one of her old thighs! Still quite dazed from the possession, Lindsay allowed herself to be led away by staff as they told her that they were going to have the team doctor make sure that the fall hadn’t given the football player a concussion. 

Throughout this entire walk, Lindsay then got her first opportunity to realize just how broad, bulky, and manly she was now. Instead of being a dainty woman with a modelesque figure, she felt gigantic as this imposing football player that was fully stacked with firm muscle. On top of that, each step that loudly pounded across the floor gave way to several new sensations. Firstly, the man’s sizable thighs caused Lindsay to adjust her gait to compensate in order to avoid any unnecessary chafing. Moving to her rear end, Sam’s sizable but firm ass couldn’t help but wobble slightly with each powerful step she took. 

Although these were certainly significant changes for her to adapt to, the sensation of a slight bounce in the crotch area revealed a semi-firm boner in Sam’s pants (which was clearly due to his attraction to the cheerleader he had been talking to previously) and caused the woman to comprehend that she was now in possession of a cock instead of a pussy. Continuing to think about the difference between her female form and Sam’s masculine one, a quick glance down at the tight compression shirt that Sam was wearing revealed two thick slabs of pectorals that were somehow bigger than her small A-cup breasts! This man was absolutely built to be a dominant force in athletics, which left Lindsay rightfully worried about her new life given the fact that she had no knowledge about football.

After arriving into the small room and sitting down on an examination table, the woman anxiously fiddled her wider and meatier thumbs upon waiting for the doctor’s arrival. Once the small middle-aged doctor arrived, he wasted no time going through a quick concussion test to check on the status of the Bengals player. After having the possessed player go through balance and visual tests that the new Sam passed with flying colors, the cognitive evaluation was where things got a bit more dicey. Although Lindsay was able to successfully confirm that the player’s name was Sam and that he was a player on the Cincinnati Bengals, other questions such as his birthday and last name left the woman understandably stumped. Luckily though, the doctor was more than willing to provide those details to the new man and then ask him to repeat them back to him.

“My name is Sam Hubbard and I’m a player on the Cincinnati Bengals. I was born June 29th, 1995,” the brand new player puppeted back to the man, which was seemingly enough for the doctor to clear the hunk for play and send him off to the locker room. Despite her best objections due to the fear of not knowing how to play, the doctor remained committed to his decision and had the staff ultimately escort Lindsay back to the locker room.

Upon arriving into the locker room, Lindsay awkwardly returned pleasantries to other players who seemingly had a close relationship to the real Sam as she searched for the body that she had seen her boyfriend possess earlier. Despite the hecticness of the crowded room of countless hunks in various stages of undress, Sam was finally able to find Aaron in his hunky new body and pull him back to a more secluded area of the locker room.

Of course, Aaron tried his best to pretend as if he was the real Logan Wilson, but this facade quickly fell as Sam revealed the truth behind who was in control of this body. Understandably, Aaron was quite concerned about the status of his girlfriend given the fact that the cheerleader plan had clearly gone awry. Although it was certainly not something the former Lindsay was finally coming around to, she quickly pushed that aside as a more pressing matter emerged - her lack of football knowledge and skill. 

So after the new Logan Wilson gave a quick crash course on Sam’s position and what he was expected to do on the field, Lindsay was quite concerned about the prospects of having to stand her ground and be a strong defensive force. Luckily though, Aaron revealed that he would be on the field with her and could help her as best as he could in between plays to give her tips. Before the two could continue coming up with a plan, the Bengals coach finally arrived and gave a rousing pep talk as Lindsay stripped out of Sam’s tight clothing and slipped into his football gear and uniform. The woman finished just in time as the coach finished speaking and began to lead the team out to the now-full stadium of players eagerly awaiting for an incredible football game.

Despite a few hiccups throughout, Lindsay was able to slowly understand Sam’s position and do her best to prevent the Bengals’ opponent from progressing further down the field with Aaron’s encouraging words. Luckily, his impressive and well-built physique was a saving grace in helping stop the opponents dead in their tracks as they were unable to move Lindsay’s new bulky body an inch. By the end of the game, the Bengals defense was able to completely decimate the offense and thus allow their offense to beat the other team by over 30 points. Amusingly, the commentators after the game singled out two key performers in the game - Bengals linebacker Logan Wilson and defensive end Sam Hubbard. 

Although in time Aaron would discover that he was now married with a wife and had no attraction at all towards Sam Hubbard’s body, this turned out to be perfectly fine as Lindsay had some changes of her own. While Lindsay hadn’t become married by possessing Sam, she did in fact gain Sam’s heterosexuality. In fact, she was able to find a new girlfriend that left her quite amused. Throughout happenstance, Lindsay found herself dating the Bengals cheerleader that she had originally planned on possessing. Although she hadn’t found any attraction originally to the woman’s curvy figure and perky ass, it was now one of Lindsay’s favorite things about her new girlfriend whenever the couple undressed and began to fool around in bed. Given the fact that she used to be a woman herself, Lindsay was quite amused by just how wonderfully she was able to take care of her new girlfriend by making sure she was constantly sexually fulfilled via vaginal or oral sex.

So while the couple ultimately did end up going their own separate ways by gaining these new bodies, Lindsay and Aaron still remained the closest of friends both on and off the field. While playing football the duo were able to be an unstoppable force for the Bengals defense, while off the field they loved to spend their free time working out or hanging out at each other’s places to play video games and watch football together. Although it was safe to say that this wasn’t the life either individual had planned for themselves, Lindsay and Aaron were determined to take advantage of their second chance of life as best they could!

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[pow-creations-headcanons]

Pirate faction's board game head cannons! Ignore the whole modern board games not existing at their time period, this is just for sillies and giggles.

Kite's play uno. They are very serious about their uno games and they will last hours. They do not hold back in the slightest when it comes to the game itself and the insults being shouted through out the game. they like to combine 3 or 4 decks together to really make the game like a tournament and sometimes even place bets over it. Each kite also follows an unspoken rule where everyone keeps an uno reverse card on them at all times. When asked to do a task they don't want to partake in, they will pull out the reserve card and walk away. This response is fully accepted by the rest of the group and the other person will do the task. Kestrels play Sorry, or rather they try to. It's rare they ever finish the game as they get so heated with one another they flip the board over and everyone swears never to play again.....until a bet is made and now suddenly its a challenge and money is on the line. They also have a very odd rule that only they follow. If a member accidentally breaks the plastic board they're in debt to buy a new one, however they also win the game because you can't play with a broken board. this has resulted in more than one occasion of the person in last purposely snapping the board in half just to win and then buying a new board next week. Nightingales play Monopoly. Gracie is the only one allowed to banker everyone else ends up cheating if put in that position. However that doesn't stop some of the members from attempting to steal mid-game, but Gracie always catches them and makes sure it's fair. Somehow, they don't get too heated while playing. A few quips and jabs are thrown about but they're more dramatic than aggressive. they also always have a large array of snacks during their game nights.

Herons play clue. They have a whole shelf dedicated to collecting as many weird and outlandish versions of clue as they can. Everyone has an assigned color and they will only play as that color, if their color isn't available they will refuse to play. They also play clue as if it were 5d chess because every single one of them is cheating but they all know everyone is cheating. So they all try to throw each other off and they lie and play mind games and get into each other's heads. It's not just Clue, it has like 5 other layers on top of it because of how they trick each other. This is longer than I thought it was going to be lol, Hope you can understand the vision here.

There are genuinely some arguments from the leaders with the more..competitive faction members, that they will ban the games if they continue to be violent and noisy while playing them.

They won’t.

It’s way too entertaining to watch and they all know it.

[ria-writes-stories]

Ship: Vizzy

Genre: Cotton, Romance, Tension-?

Description: ✨ 💃 ✨ SHAKIRA✨ SHAKIRA ✨

Actual note: basically Lizzy and V doing comfort in their own way

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

(No one's pov)

V simply walked away from Uzi and N, leaving them in Doll's home as Uzi yelled at her annoyed while V simply ignored her to oblivion. She didn't have time for these games. That girl had the same thing as Cyn...That creepy red-eyed freak Doll. She wasn't going to wait for her to end up where Cyn did. Oh no, she was going to shut this show down, once and for all, and she'll make sure to take Uzi down as well. It's just how things have to be, you know?

V went into the ball room and checked the oil from the floor where Doll fell when she shot her, the pool of oil was significantly smaller, meaning that somehow she got some of her oil back, hell knows how.

While V was pondering about this a hand found itself resting on her shoulder. "Hello Diva queen you there?" Lizzy said in an overly annoyed tone as V frowned and glared at Lizzy. "The hell do you want now?" "Uhm? Rude much don't you think? I helped you." "After you nearly got me killed!" "We already talked about this, you wanted to kill everyone here so get over it." V rolled her eyes as she huffed frustrated. "Look- I didn't spend hours on making this amazingly fashionable dress for it to go to waste because Doll threw a tantrum and because you and those two sore losers were petty as hell towards her, so you are helping me to get everyone back here and get the party started." Lizzy wasn't asking, she was demanding it, ordering V all the while she flipped her hair and walked towards the DJ set up where a knife was in the main circuit board from the earlier fight. V cocked an eyebrow as she got up. "And what makes you think I'll do that?" "Oh come ooon! It ain't fair to be selfish you know. You had your fun, it seems fair we have ours, ok? Plus you look like you could use a party, besides, I thought you like scaring people." V looked at Lizzy genuinely confused as Lizzy simply replied by giving her confident smirk with a taunt of malice to it with a mean look. "Who said you'll call 'em?"

A smile slowly crept on V's face. Lizzy wasn't asking V to do a chore, she was condemning her to V's favourite game, scaring and terrorizing others, a sick pleasure that she gained by being a disassembly drone in order to cope with the pre-post guilt and anxiety when her memories first started to come back to her. Lizzy wasn't putting V to a chore, she was giving V a fun little activity to blow off steam after the 'overly boring' fight.

Before you knew it V was lurking in the ventilation shafts scaring students back to the celebration room where the prom was meant to be held. Soon enough the sheep were rounded in and Lizzy took care of the rest, placing Darren at the DJ board, while asking Rebecca to help with getting everyone on the dance floor, while Braiden was already posting about it on his socials, as while Emily and Sam struggled to helping Darren with the music given the control board was flung and it was a three people job to connect the wires and seal everything up as to be able to play out the music and the lights without getting an even bigger short circuit and break.

V crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at the crowd of the drones, bored as she missed the few seconds back in which she got to chase students around.

"Yo hissy kitty easy with the claws, no one's biting." Lizzy said teasingly as she looked at V with a smug smirk. V had no clue where that came from but when Lizzy gave a subtle look down and then looked back up into V's eyes, V realised she had her claws out. "Ah...must have forgotten them out from the chase." V said with a slightly dark chuckle as she tucked her claws back in and let her hands out. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, we good?" Lizzy asked with true genuine concern, as that subtle worry in her eyes that V got so used to appeared again. V would never admitted it but the contrast of Lizzy's gentle pink glow close to her fainted golden sparkle had something strangely comforting to it. "Yeah, whatever." V said.

V rolled her eyes and looked away closing her eyes with a blank face before opening one eye to look at Lizzy with a faint smile as Lizzy's frown soon turned to a smug smirk.

"Ewww look at those idiots." Lizzy said as V shot her head towards the direction Lizzy was looking. Uzi and N were awkwardly dancing together, nothing compared to their earlier fight-dance, probably because if those two weren't in a balance of chaos and adrenaline they were out of their comfort zone meaning they were sloppier.

V groaned loudly and rolled her eyes as she grabbed Lizzy's hand dragging her to the centre of the dance ring. "Well I won't spend my time looking at those sore losers." V announced annoyed.

She stopped once she was in the centre and held Lizzy's palm softly as she looked at her with a calm look as Lizzy looked at her slightly surprised before she smiled widely with a knowing look as V spun her around roughly, yet Lizzy spun around with grace and elegance as V held her hand extended out with Lizzy's. "I see you got experience." V said before pulling Lizzy back to her and lowering her to the ground in her grasp. "Been danced with before?" "I've been practicing with Doll." Lizzy said in a cocky manner as she looked at V with a viper look of slyness. She knew what she was doing and so did V, and God she hated it that Lizzy knew how to get to her.

She frowned and threw her in the air before catching her and spinning her, as soon they continued to dance into the night catching all of the eyes on them as the low fight between the girls continued unbeknown to everyone else.

She was smart little bunny slipping in and out of the claws of golden eagle oblivious to the danger, or better said having a grip on those very claws, working them as she liked as while the eagle nibbled at her ears in a threatening manner but both knew that the eagle wasn't going to bleed out the little bunny.

After V stopped dancing, leaning down with Lizzy looking deeply into her.

Her eyes. Those pink precious little orbs of light and pride, confidence, the absolute opposite of what she was when she was freshly baked like this girl, the opposite of what she was now, so confident and cocky, so disrespectful... nasty disrespectful meaning they needed to be properly taken care of.

Lizzy looked into V's eyes, dangers glow of the sun's unleashed wilderness that knows no mercy or compassion, orbs taken out from the very spirits of the stars given the deadly sharp pointy ends of the greater galaxies laid upon the sky, for how else would the galaxies stay deep dug into the flesh of the endless blue sea of the birds?

V slightly opened her mouth as her fangs glimmered in the dim light of the disco ball as Lizzy stopped breathing for a moment but let's not forget where they were now, hm?

"A ROUND OF APPLAUSE TO THE PROM QUEEN AND YOUR FAVOURITE CHEERLEADER FOR PUTTING ON A PROPER SHOW AND EXAMPLE OF WHAT'S IT LIKE TO DANCE!" Rebecca practically screamed into the mic as she stood on her boyfriend's shoulders high up on the control board as Emily, Braide and Sam had to nervously hold all of the wires in absolute terror hoping that the wires wouldn't go off or the board to cave in under their friend's weight otherwise they'd all have a huge electro shock that'll get them to the nursery.

Everyone apluade, hell even N and Uzi did, I mean yes of course N is a goof ball but Uzi was unexpected. Hell be damned that purple freak as she smirked at Lizzy and V as if saying 'who's the freak'. No one else might have known, but careful eyes that look at every single little detail like the eyes of a girl who loves cryptic theories of conspiracy, for example, like Uzi, what was going on between the two. The tension, the sharp movements and yet fluid turns between the two as if they were one.

V felt utter hatred built up in her as she felt ready to rascal the little thing right there and then but Lizzy stopped her by simply placing her hand back on her.

A hand that reminded V that she shouldn't act out like that. A hand that reminded V how much more above she was from that 'purple freak' and how much better she was.

V looked at Lizzy and smiled cocky as she gave her hand out. "Round two?" "What took you so long to ask?" Lizzy asked as she returned a prideful grin as she took V's hand.

Danger untamed but damaged with soften pride from worry and fears. Quite the duo, don't cha think?

The end

[shyminmin]

༄𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐗 𝐟.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Fantasy, Mermaid AU | ༄𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.8k + ༄𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minor angst

"One iced Americano please" the mysterious man let out in a raspy voice as deep as the Mariana Trench.

All I could do was sit there and stare. It was like I was hypnotized or in some sort of trance.

His mis-matched attire did nothing to dampen his looks, in fact, in some crazy odd way, they seemed to complement and even enhance them. But that's coming from someone like me who hasn't the faintest clue on the in's and outs of fashion trends to begin with.

Sporting a lean, masculine frame under all those loose fitting clothes of faded greys and browns, areas of pale skin peeked out, holding an almost pearlescent sheen when hit by the light in a certain way.

A wide brimmed hat sat atop his head where strands of inky black hair poked out from beneath.

He stood there leaning against the bar counter, drumming his long, slender fingers onto its surface out of boredom, while he waited for his order. He exuded a level of power and authority which I couldn't quite place, making him all the more intriguing.

Who was this man and why was I getting so affected by him? Do random people who walk into cafes possess some hidden ability to render a person speechless.

Huffing I tried to maintain my composure.

Get it together Y/n! All he did was come in and order a damn coffee!

I was so absorbed in the scene in front of me that I couldn't help but jump in my seat when I felt someone's hand tap my arm.

"You with us lass?" Dongha's voice made me divert my gaze to him.

"S-sorry?" I let out, calming down from the surprise.

"Ah look at her, she was totally out of it."

"What were ye so immersed in?" The other two men chimed in.

"Uh...." Words were caught in my throat as I tried to come up with an excuse, not exactly wanting to say that I was ogling an innocent man, like some stalker.

I tried to speak again but was cut off from a distant voice.

"Your drink sir," I heard the cafe's barista say, making me once again look towards the newcomer.

Straightening his posture, he took the offered beverage, humming an inaudible 'thank you.' From his side profile I could see the slight upturn of his lips, emphasizing his knife sharp jawline. My heart did a flip at the imagery.

Oh boy, what is wrong with me!?

"Y/n dear, is everythin' alright?"

Still watching, the dark haired man dove deep into his pant pocket, pulling out an unusual small thatched pouch. Riffling through it, he took out a bunch of coins and handed them over to the server. My eyes must've been deceiving me at one stage as I could've sworn that amidst his change was an object, spherical in shape, that shone brightly against the rest. Dumbfounded about what I had spotted, I tried to make sense of it.

Who just casually keeps a pearl in amongst their money like it was nothing? It had to be a fake, right? Somehow I had a feeling my assumptions were false, it in fact being quite authentic. Once all the exchanges were finalized, the man suddenly turned so his face was now on full display, causing me to gulp at the sight.

Clear, smooth skin that has never been touched by the light of day and thin, moist lips that were sheltered by an adorable miniature nose. Soft looking cheeks that contrasted heavily with his sharp, angular brows that his dark waves covered most of like a curtain. But the most mesmerizing and jaw dropping thing of all was his-

Eyes...

Two slanted eyes, much like a cat's and the darkest shades of cerulean blue I have ever seen. Two that I was starting to get hopelessly lost within, like a whirlpool sucking me into it's swirling depths with no means of letting me go.

Suddenly they met my own, his pupils ever so slightly dilating resembling the darkest depths of the ocean itself. My heart proceeded to skip a beat at the intensity of his gaze, the air fleeing my lungs like a balloon deflating.

Oh my...

"Cheong Y/n!" All the fishermen shouted, trying to get my attention.

"I-I have to go to the restroom," standing up I made my way in the opposite direction of the male that had me so captivated.

"Lass, I advise that ya walk the other way if you don't want ta end up smack dab in a sack full o' flour."

Realising where I was heading from Myungsoo's warning, I swiftly turned, doing a 180 and locating the door to the women's bathroom, avoiding becoming a cheap knock off of the abominable snowman.

Why am I so flustered? My brain has turned to mush. I cursed myself for my mindless stupidity.

Reaching the wooden door reading 'Ladies' I pushed it open, letting out a sigh of relief when it closed behind me, evidently forming a barrier between me and the intense atmosphere of the cafe.

All the while though, before retreating to the safety of the bathroom stalls, I had the strangest inkling that two dark, brooding eyes were boring into my back, watching my every move. Whether that was a good or bad thing, I couldn't say.

Coming to this town sure is making several buried emotions and feelings I have never experienced before come to the surface.

Patting my cheeks, I tried to will away the redness, judging from the extreme heat I was feeling at the moment.

It had been close to ten minutes by the time I had regained my bearings and exited the bathroom. I discreetly scoped out the area, wondering whether the intense man was still there. I was almost prepared to set up camp in the bathroom if he was in fact still standing there making the air unbreathable with his presence.

Thankfully he appeared to have left, the only occupants being my unusual entourage and another random couple in the back, keeping to themselves. Noticing I had returned, the three elderly fishermen, who had been waiting expectantly, stood up rushing over to me. Their faces, one of worry and confusion.

"Ye ok? Ya sure took your time in there lil' lady,"

"Yeah I'm alright, n-never better" I tried to say as convincingly as possible.

"You sure? Ye lookin' a bit like tha clams we dig up n' stew. If you're not feelin' tha best, then we can take ya up there tomorrow," Dongha spoke not swayed by my fluctuating state.

Bringing my hand up, I used the back of it to skim against my forehead, a thin layer of sweat getting picked up from the action. This I could tell was not the kind you'd get from a general hot day.

Did he somehow cause me to get sick?

Coming to a decision, I sighed in resignation. "I might take you up on that offer... S-sorry to cut this journey short..."

Giving me a gentle smile, Dongha pat my head, "Don't ye worry yourself my dear, just focus on gettin' back your spunk. Now we'll be here bright n' early ta drive ye to Chin Chin's. The 'Seascape Inn' right?" He went to confirm where I was currently staying, in which I replied with a nod.

Gratefully smiling up at them all, I gave them a sincere 'thank you' as I waved and watched them walk casually out of the cafe's door, no doubt planning to get back to their planned fishing trip.

Sifting my bare feet through the powdery grains of white, I gazed absentmindedly at the steady rhythm that the waves moved in; coming in to kiss the shoreline only to be pulled back to reconvene with their greater family, the ocean as a whole.

It was always so calming to watch the natural flow of the ocean tides, dictated by the pull of the moon. Whether it be high or low, there was always that constant push and pull, ensuring one that life will keep moving even if you are at your best or worst.

And as long as the moon is there, then the waters have a reason to want to meet their lover, the shore, or are encouraged to reunite with their greater whole. The moon is their sole drive to put their intentions into motion and see that they see them to completion. It doesn't matter how much you may get pulled back, as long as you have that incentive to keep pushing forward, then one day you will surely be rewarded by your efforts and get your happy ending.

I will find my truth.. the whole truth..and hopefully my place in this challenging world..

I looked at the jagged lines of red that took up the entirety of my feet, fading as they wound up my ankles slightly. More questions arose.

Were these inflicted upon me however long ago or were they some strange deformity that I was born with? Medical reports state conflicting assumptions, not making my curiosity any easier to handle. My recurring dreams were the initial thing that spurred me on in this search for answers, however I couldn't ignore this other factor, that was the extensive scarring on my feet. I just knew it was linked to this somehow.

I usually kept them covered up, to avoid unwanted stares, but seeing as I was alone and on a damp, sandy shoreline I allowed myself the luxury of exposing them to the air.

Would Mr Yang know? Coming here is really the last option I have left at finding any hint about myself and origins. The true end of the road for potential revelations.

I dipped them gently into the shallow waters, the salty streams caressing the uneven skin of them like a mother embracing their child, soft, soothing and loving. I mentally praised myself for deciding to come down to the beach that the town was right on the edge of, the water and air certainly doing me some good at making me feel revitalized after how my body reacted to the events in the cafe.

The mysterious man weaved his way into my thoughts.

Maybe he was just passing through.. He seemed about my age, maybe a little older? I got the impression that most of the locals were elderly so he couldn't be from around here.

My heart proceeded to beat just thinking about him. I admit his appearance way surpassed the average norms of physical attraction, however I wasn't one to fall for someone purely based on their looks. That would make me kinda shallow.

No, instead it was some other accompanying reason...

Some other unknown reason that caused me to be drawn to him like the very waves lapping at my feet were beckoned towards Lady Selene herself.

I was in some strange predicament and I hadn't the slightest clue why.

I sighed, well even if this may be the case it's not like I'd find out, since I'd probably never see him again.

Amidst my deep contemplating thoughts the gentle breeze of the sea brought with it a faint but beautiful musical tune, a whistling flow of notes that sent tingles up and down my spine. I looked around trying to follow the melody to its source. My eyes and ears eventually led me to the highest peak of a cliff, which hung over the depths of the sea. Against the sunset, there stood a silhouette of a man, in his hands was a flute as he brought it up to his lips to continue on with his song.

My eyes raked over his outline as the enchanting sounds of his instrument washed over me, putting me into a deep serenity.

Flute glinting in the diminishing light, loose billowing clothes that got rumpled by the passing breeze, a nice lean figure...

Hold on..

Silent, intense aura...

Could it be?

That wide brimmed hat...

It's him!

As if the universe was confirming it for me, the last remnants of light from the setting sun cast upon him, lighting the man's body up and making his unique features visible. The man from the cafe stood there illuminated in all his ethereal glory, the last note of his unknown melody being blown out as he lowered his flute.

Wow... Was all that came to mind.

A sudden gust of wind swept along the beach, causing my hair to blow in all directions, and sea spray to jump up and dot my skin. I gasped at the disruption, wiping away the droplets that landed on my face and flattening down my brown locks. Because of all this, my view of the man had been obstructed. I was about to look back up towards him when a dash of colour zipped past my vision. There riding the strong breeze was a large, black hat.

I felt my eyes widen in realisation. That's not just any ordinary hat, that's His hat!

The strength of the wind must've blown it off his head. Pushing my feet down into the ground, I lunged forward, chasing after the item of clothing. Running in powdery, dry sand proved to be difficult as I almost lost my balance a couple of times, making grabby hands at the headwear only to stumble and grasp at empty air instead. All the while the hat seemed to mock me as it danced around in front of me. It would slowly float down towards the ground until I got close enough only to catch the next gust of wind, propelling it upwards again, casting a faint circular shadow onto me. If it was alive it would definitely be laughing at this pathetic game of cat and mouse we both found ourselves in. I grumbled out in irritation.

Get back here you dumb hat!

A few dozen attempts later, I found myself gasping for breath from the miniature workout I was getting from this stupid chase. I never knew I could loathe something as simple as a hat so much. Swiftly snatching up the object when it least expected it, I jumped up and down in victory, the item of clothing now safe and sound in my clutches.

Hah! Who's laughing now! I glared down at it.

"Now to get you back to your owner," I huffed out, lifting my head back up towards the cliff. Slightly nervous about interacting and coming so close to him, I gripped onto his hat like it was my lifeline.

Huh?

Scanning the now empty spot of land I realized he was gone.

There's something different about her, but he didn't know what. It caused him to become wary and guarded as he made his way to a secluded part of shoreline that was unreachable to the average human. Shrugging off his clothing and placing it amongst a couple of rocks where they couldn't be seen, the male waded in the shallow waters of the sea. When he was far out enough he sank his upper body into the salty depths, so that he was now completely submerged.

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for what was to come next.

Seconds later, he gritted his teeth from the abrupt influx of pain that crashed upon him, holding back a shout as he felt his bottom half begin to mold together to form one elongated limb. Patches of skin hardened to form clumps of scales and his scarred feet dissolved and widened to form a brilliant powerful fin.

He always questioned himself why he bothered to step foot on land for limited amounts of time if every time he wanted to go, he had to experience this excruciating transformation.

He continued to clench and thrash his changing body around, trying to ease away the pain.

Maybe I should hold off on visits for a while... He voiced in his head. My energy is depleting...

However his thoughts were drawn back to the human female that he had encountered. He'd never seen her before around these parts and she exuded a different kind of energy than most other land dwellers that he had come across while blending in on land.

She radiated a sense of familiarity but also something that was uniquely her.

Dammit! I shouldn't be getting caught up in the lives of humans.

Those oblivious beings were usually the ones who'd find themselves enchanted by his kind's very presence, not the other way around.

As the minutes passed by, the crippling pain slowly subsided, eventually stopping completely. The merman let out a sigh of relief, praising the gods that it was over.

Oof... I almost blacked out this time...

Steadily regaining his strength and movement, he kicked his fluke up and down creating momentum and smoothly shot forward into the great expanse of deep blue, towards his cave where he could relax and settle down for the night.

I shouldn't resurface, but for the love of Amphitrite, she has my hat!

| 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 | ༄⋆

[corner-stories]

Prompt: Niccosasha and Jeankasa double date!

Me: *slapping the top of my Grad School AU* this beauty can hold so many drabbles!

The truth is that Mikasa doesn't know Niccolo too well, but that in itself is not a bad thing. She tries to view the evening as an opportunity for change, as on top of making new friends in the city, it's a chance to get to know her roommate's boyfriend. It's also a good break from the never-ending pain that is graduate studies, but that's beside the point.

So as Mikasa helps him in the kitchen on a Friday night, she tries to think of what she does know about the guy. Like her he comes from outside of Montreal, him from Toronto and her from Vancouver. She knows he's a sous chef at some expensive hipster restaurant in Mile End, a position that takes up most of his time and leaves little for his significant other, but somehow he and Sasha make it work. She also knows that he's on fairly good terms with Jean, though she's unsure if the two had struck up a friendship before Niccolo began dating Sasha or after.

Nonetheless, the facts both assure Mikasa that Niccolo is no stranger, yet reminds her that she's slightly removed from the predefined dynamics of the young adults in the apartment.

At least when Niccolo pops over to her side of the counter and observes the way she slices onions, he seems to approve of her handiwork.

"Look at that," he lauds with a friendly smile. "You're a natural."

"Thank you," Mikasa says in response. "My Auntie always made me help her in the kitchen. Picked up a few things on the way."

Niccolo nods his head. "Yeah, I can tell."

Then not a moment too soon he returns to his side of the space. After Mikasa places another handful of paper-thin onion slices into a salad bowl, she glances over to the stove that Niccolo has been slaving over. At this point he's finally added the cooked pasta to the shrimp scampi, and now his priority lies with stirring both elements together in beautiful harmony. He puts such an expert touch into a dish that's probably rudimentary in comparison to his skillset, yet no one in the apartment seems to be complaining.

As the two continue to work on dinner, Mikasa looks across the living space at the other young adults in the apartment. Sasha and Jean seem content to chillax on the couch as their significant others take care of dinner, a privilege they could enjoy on the virtue of them paying for the ingredients needed for the meal. Playing on the television is a hockey game, but for once the two are not focused on the sport of frigid puck-chasing — instead they appear to be engaged in a conversation that teeters between a passionate debate and an argument.

Apparently, French appears to be the language that the two friends prefer to use when speaking energetically, and it's moments like this when Mikasa is reminded that like her, Niccolo is still relatively new to Montreal, meaning that his grasp on the local language is possibly at the same level as hers. That level being "can order food, can't hold a deep conversation."

Mikasa listens to the brassy francophones argue, every once in a while they'll throw in a dash of English, the most current one involving Sasha dramatically exclaiming that Jean stop denying the truth. It makes Mikasa recall the few times she had joined Sasha on an Among Us night, as Sasha's only method of discovering the imposter involves the Bad Cop part of a Good Cop/Bad Cop routine.

"Do you happen to know what they're talking about?" Mikasa asks as she begins adding arugula to the salad bowl.

Niccolo doesn't look away from his pan. "Uh... figure skating, I believe."

Mikasa raises an eyebrow. In hindsight she should have guessed it, as what other conversation can include the words "lutz" and "flip" and "flutz" in the same sentence.

"Are arguments about skating usually that intense?" Mikasa asks.

The laugh that Niccolo lets out is playful, yet imbued with the slightest sense of unease. "It is for them."

[untilthenextencore]

Nights To Remember Pt. 1: Of Gods & Goddesses & Magick & Memories~...

Backstory: Summer 1973~. Jimmy & Dahlia had gotten married in the past year~. Some of the more territorial newer wannabe groupies are having a hard time coping with not just her continual presence on tour, but now Dahlia's new status as THE Mrs. Page~. Her & Robert's displaying their close friendship doesn't help~.

Their subsequent finding a friendly way to deal with their boredom amongst the goings on that the hangers on & wannabe groupies live for by escaping certainly doesn't help~.

Robert offers the escape~. He's always been a little in awe of Pagey's choice of girl both in general in the early days, but also in the form of his chosen one, Dahlia~. She is so familiar yet foreign to him it makes his head spin~. So worldly, yet down to earth~. A mix of city yet downhome that he might've chosen for himself if he had the chance~. But as far as he's known her she's been Pagey's~. Solidly, decidedly, faithfully Pagey's~.

Suffice to say, even in his happiest moments in the friendship he's conflicted~. Even though they're not cheating or going behind Pagey's back~.

But when he finds himself even moreso conflicted about the cloak & dagger aspect of their innocent little excursion, that he himself offered initially, he then finds the idea of Pagey finding out also somehow doesn't appeal to him~.

~

Ho hum. Another day. Another dollar. Another concert. Another party. Another night to remember. Until they forget it all in the morning. Or lose track of which night in the sea of "nights to remember" held the goings on their shattered minds remembered only fractures of at tour's end. Glittered & goggle eyed groupies frantically flipped over themselves to catch the eye of anyone who was anyone in King Robert's court. Or so it seemed.

True. Robert was holding court like he was king. One of four at least. But being in the middle of yet another tour - an American one at that - only meant one thing. Like the others he was left without a queen. Only one of their roundtable could however not lay claim to such a misfortune. The luckiest one among them. The wizard in his stars & moon suit himself. James Patrick Page.

No. Because as ever Jimmy had brought along his lady. Lady Dahlia-Maria Dominguez Page. The Lady who was a natural creative herself it seemed. She & her camera, while remaining discreet & unobtrusive, furnished some of the most intimate portraits of the band allowed. A few Peter even sold at the merch table, netting her a tidy sum of her own aside from being married to he of the led wallet and house of Tower.

Though she only released a few here and there. She too liked to maintain her own brand of privacy. Despite the wingding that was their wedding in Hampton Court Palace - of all bleeding places - in the past year, she really preferred a smaller do generally. Friends & family & neighborhood kin & no more. As was borne out by the smaller dos held in Mexico at her family's small yet palatial feeling compound in Jalisco that was something of an early childhood home for her & Pagey's place in England for family that could not swing airfare for a trip to the palace.

Which begged the question.

What the hell was she doin here?!

Not that he begrudged her presence itself. Not at all. Robert & Dahlia always seemed to get on rather well. Down home types lost in the Wonderland that was the entertainment business. Though even with her downhome partial Mexican upbringing Dahlia was decidedly still more of a city girl to this country boy.

Being an LA local, Dahlia knew it like the back of her prettily manicured hand. A hand she also often used in keeping much of the frivolity at arm's length. Even when in the middle of it all. She seemingly always sat apart. That was what Robert didn't understand about her presence in such madness.

Clearly the groupies agreed. Equally manicured hands being verily filed into a point, eager to tear at a tawny-skinned throat as their owner's gripped. "What is SHE doing here?!" Calling her everything but a child of God or what her father's own book termed their culture, "Children of the Sun".

No matter.

She seemingly stayed unaffected.

Toying with her engagement & wedding rings just so. Arranging the gold bangle bracelets or matching pendant. Her only flashes of vanity or pride being her only answer. Letting both that & her presence along with the 5000 other ways she was the "chosen one" of the Mr. James Patrick Page do the talking for her. Knowing her, if she were feeling cheeky she might whip out her instant camera & take a pic of the offending party, leaving some hanger on to deliver it & with it the picture proof / photo evidence of their bitterness as she & her beloved husband tangled fingers & held hands. They can have a pic. She had the real thing.

Guinevere was not giving up her throne.

Unbothered by the petty strife clawing at the door, begging to enter her beloved Camelot.

Rather, she looked bored, really.

Jimmy had disappeared with Bonzo. Off to take a powder likely. She had been chatting with Jonesy about books & things to get his girls & Mo back home, but now he too was off somewhere. Hangers on knew better than to try to ingratiate themselves with her. She had iced them out before. Now they well knew. There was no way in to the Page / Zeppelin inner sanctum with her.

As further proof, both of her seeming boredom & inaccessibility by groupie or hanger on, Robert saw her pull a small book out of her purse. That was Dahlia. Forever a bookworm. Sodom & Gomorrah at her feet. Head in the clouds. Nose in a book.

Before he knew it, Robert felt himself propelled towards her, stumbling a few times when a glittered & bejeweled fan flung & slung herself over him. Extricating himself deftly every time he uttered a soft, "Not this time, darlin'." "Maybe another night, doll." Or even "What will me missus, think?" Laughing his way out of harm's way as he bid them good night & left them to join the party. He caught more curses & sotto-voce snipes when they saw in what direction he was heading. But no matter. His course was set. Off he traveled to the "land of the people of the sun".

It was then that he allowed his six foot sun-people seeking self to cast a shadow over her in the midst of her reading. This had the intended effect of having the dim light she had been reading under all but disappear as he blocked it out. She whirled around to regard him with sharp eyes that were cut to him in momentary disgust. Her lips pursed as a similarly sharp tongue went about finding the right barb to fling before suddenly dropping its weapon. Her eyes widened before her gaze then softened in mirth as she lifted her arm in modified Roman salute, hand tilted upwards slightly. "Hail, Apollo. What brings the Sun God to these darkened shores?"

Sun God? He quite liked the sound of that. So he decided to play along, wracking his brain for his schoolboy Mythology.

"Hail, Aphrodite. I come in peace." He said, mimicking her salute with the hand that was not holding his beloved ale. "Or should it be Persephone, luv? By the way... Where is our beloved Hades?" Robert craved his neck around, looking for the dark-haired lord of the underworld that always seemed to be lurking around every corner when she was involved. "My stars." He gasped, putting a hand to his bared chest for affect. "I see no star suited one for miles. How is that possible?"

"I think he's off with your fellow northern friend right now. The one who plays either Dionysus or Ares if the bacchanalia goes too far." Dahlia quipped, her lips quirking into a wry grin as she pointed to Jonesy at the bar. "Hermes just left himself as well."

"Foolish ones they are." He tsked, shaking his head. "Leaving one so fair alone in the midst of such bacchanalia indeed."

Looking down he saw that where the glittered ones would have blushed or fluttered their eyelashes & twirled a curl of hair into a coil in flirtation, that was decidedly not Dahlia's - nor Aphrodite or Persephone's - way. Instead, she stayed looking up at him with the same wry grin & mirthful if still piercing stare along with a soft incredulous shake of the head. Her lips said nothing. But those eyes? Those eyes said EVERYTHING.

Clearing his throat & lubricating himself & his suddenly dry mouth with more ale, he jutted his chin at her book. "Whatcha readin' there, luv?"

"A mini collection of Harlem Renaissance poetry. Some classics. The usual." She marked her page & closed it to show him the cover art. Brown bodies arced & curved in exultation.

"Classics indeed. Your usual. A nice addition to your other usual Agatha Christies." He grinned. "What for?"

"Just because." She shrugged as she pocketed the book. "And because I figure if I'm to live in the aftermath of the Swinging Sixties... The Roaring Seventies some have termed... I better brush up on how the times used to Roar back in the day. Better brush up on my Cotton Club classic bacchanalia... Although..." She cast a suddenly weary look across all the goings on around them. Glittering, giggling, sharpened nails & tongues of hardened decidedly un flowerchild GTO like groupies & grubby fingered, coke jittery, tipsy-drunk, outstretched-handed hangers on included & heated a sigh. "Forgive me for saying but this pales in comparison to my childhood dreams of the Cotton Club."

"Indeed." He nodded with another sip of his ale. So she saw what he did that night. What he felt. She felt it too.

"I mean, not to be ungrateful or anything. Knowing how you like it & all. "Prince of Peace" that you are." There was that quirk of her lips again as she drawled the last part out.

Try as he might not to, he winced at the memory of those words leaving his lips unironically. Ah, so she had heard that story too. Of course she had. Was nothing a secret in this God forsaken place?!

His momentary embarrassment was compounded at the same time he was delightfully distracted by the sound of her sweet giggle. "I know how much fun you have typically. And I get how you dig the scene generally speaking. It just doesn't... It doesn't... It doesn't really do it for me... Not much... I mean all these people... They'd probably not spit on me if I were on fire if I wasn't with you guys. If I wasn't Mrs. Page. Hell, half of them would likely be the ones holding the match. Some of them still would now!" She cut her eyes in half dismissal half bemusement at the nail-filing bile-spitting groupies.

Naturally, she saw that too. Nothing escapes a goddess's eyes. A queen misses nothing.

"To clink glasses & break bread with them feels so false & disingenuous. Knowing all that, I mean. That's another reason I have this book." She tapped the book with a finger before closing her purse around it. "That way, I don't have to."

"Suffice to say, grateful though I am to be invited to these things, considering some of the company that find their way in... This ain't exactly my kinda party, Planty." She took her champagne glass from the table, clinking it with his bottle. "Cheers." Before downing the swallow or two that remained.

A moment passed in silent agreement. Robert having nodded at everything she said. The falsehoods of their lifestyle that were apparently hitting him hard that night, she had always seen. Hence her keeping it all at arm's length. Alice falling down a rabbit hole but landing on her own two feet. Dorothy traveling through Oz in a bubble of her own design. Pagey or not, his girl had her own magick. This he had always known. So had Pagey, he surmised, as evident by the rock on her finger as much as anything else.

"What is your type of party, luv? Missing Hampton Court?" He teased, though he knew her well enough to know better.

"No indeed." She laughed, nodding as he refilled her glass. "Thank you, kind sir." Then after a sip, she continued. "Even I know that night was a one in a million. A once in a lifetime event. Though that indeed was a night to remember as you well know."

There went that phrase again. At least this time it was worth it. That night truly was one to remember for all involved. Mariachis and Led Zeppelin acoustic jam at Hampton Court. Would wonders never cease? That had to be a first for all involved!

"But, c'mon blondie!" She nudged him, shaking him out of his reverie.

A reverie of her in her wedding whites with glittering mantilla veil coming down the aisle towards at the altar, seated next to Pagey, dancing with Pagey... And the dances he was able to share with her himself. Cor, was she a vision then. A lovelier bride he had hardly ever known.

Shaking out a wince at the thought of even thinking thar when he had his own missus at home... One who had a decidedly less ritzy do when her own turn came years earlier... He again silenced these demons with another swig of ale & turned his eyes back to the dusky goddess queen vision at hand.

"You know what it is. What my kind of party is. You know it about as well as Jimmy. Think about it."

"Jalisco?" Robert asked.

"Well, yeah." She nodded. "Yes, of course. But what about stateside? You remember. Though it's been awhile."

Robert instantly got hit with another blast from the past and he rattled off the vignettes as they came flashing back to him. "East LA. Whittier Boulevard. The Chuco." A quaint little chill hangout spot for local Chicano youth that played a mix of oldies, early rock'n'roll, Chicano groups, Latin jazz & Mexican or Latin music of all kinds.

Dahlia snapped her fingers & pointed at him. "Bingo. That's it. That's it exactly, Robert. That's my kind of party. All of it."

"Why don't we go back tonight then?" Robert offered with yet another swig from his bottle.

Dahlia paused mid thought. Mid answer. Her mouth falling open in a silent gasp & lack of immediate response. Try as she might, she couldn't really think of a reason not to. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she also really wanted to. Really wanted to. But still, she had to ask.

"Right now?" She whispered conspiratorially.

"Why not?" He shrugged. "S'gotta be better than this lot, yeah?"

Dahlia gave a quick look around & then went back to regarding Robert with a bemused smirk. "Don't you think they might miss you, your highness? I mean, how could they not miss their beloved Prince of Peace?"

He winced again at the little rib. (Dahlia was one of the rare very few whose barbs both landed & made him laugh.) But he did his best to play it off with a laugh & a wry grin of his own as he mused. "We'll be back."

Dahlia cast her eyes back over the bacchanalia, mulling things over. Another moment passed before she shot to her feet, tossing a soft voiced request over her shoulder. "Wait right here."

She then left the table & crossed over the room to Peter sitting at the bar with his ever present cigar, tapping him on the shoulder. She whispered something in his ear which had the cigar chomping bear of a man nearly dropping his cigar in shock as his jaw nearly slackened. He muttered something back, motioning to the goings on to which she shook her head, explaining further. She motioned across the room, lifting her hands in a quizzical shrug before pointing to the door, which was guarded shut. Then folding her hands together, she evidently pleads her case. And surprise surprise, wizened, hard negotiator Peter folds. He relents.

Peter motions to Magnet - of all people - pointing to her & motioning to a back entrance & hence exit. Dahlia squealed, leaping into Peter's arms & giving him a grateful squeeze. Peter grinned, hugging her back & patting her on the back with a meaty hand, making sure to keep his lit cigar away from her & keeping her safe from the ashes.

Upon breaking the hug, Dahlia turned to motion to Robert himself & tell Peter something else that nearly made him drop his cigar again. Peter's eyes widened & then narrowed. Clearly telling Peter that Robert too would be making his exit & taking his leave just then.

Peter's gaze sharpened... Not with malice... But with knowledge... He knew Robert... His types... His wonts... Or wants...

Robert knew this well...

And so it was that as Robert sidled up to both Magnet & Dahlia, he heard something above the whines & curses of the groupies. A few gruff words grunted in Cole's direction by his behemoth of a manager that cut through the din. "Get Pagey..."

Hustling himself along with her & Magnet out the door, Robert did his best to avoid Peter's gaze from then on out. Helping her into her jacket, which was really one of Pagey's more subtle, casual & less spangled boleros, Robert couldn't help but ask. "What was that about, luv?"

"Oh nothing..." She shrugged before thanking him & Magnet for opening her door & helping her into the car respectively. "Thank you. Such gentlemen." The tension Robert felt was broken by a shared giggle between the three before she continued. "I just told Peter I wanted to leave & hit up East LA for awhile before we head back to the Hyatt. He asked if Pagey was coming & I said he disappeared with Bonz for a bit & I couldn't find him. Besides, he was having fun last I knew, so I didn't want to pull him away from him being able to relax."

"I see..." He trotted over to his side of the car, slipping inside himself with Magnet shielding him from view of any lurking groupies as best as he could. "And the motioning to me & the party at hand, luv?"

"Simple." Dahlia explained, punctuating her words with the click of her belt. "I told him to tell Jimmy where I was, that I'd be back soon & not to worry. That not only would Magnet be with me but so would you & that you were leaving to tag along with me too. That you'd be there to protect me as well."

Robert felt a slight quickening of his pulse despite the innocence of it all. The innocence of her explanation. Of the situation. Yet the cloak & dagger feel of it all gave him a little heart flutter & frisson at once. He didn't quite know why. He couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Why was he so unnerved?...

It was his idea, after all...

They weren't doing anything wrong anyway...

It was then that Magnet got onto the road & pulled off. Now Robert knew... There was no turning back...

Though turn back he did...

Robert couldn't help it...

And so it was that as he craved his neck to glance back at the traffic behind him, Robert swore he saw a hint of a familiar tall, willowy, smoking, silver accented, black-haired figure hustling into the back seat of a car that roared to life & took off a few car's length behind them.

Only one word came to mind to describe the situation Robert found himself shoe-horning himself into now & his current state of mind.

"Shit..."

~

Hope you guys enjoy~!

As ever this is forever under construction~!

[arcplaysgames]

I don't remember this at all so I don't even know if its part of The Lotus Tree or not, lmao, sorry Kasumi you are so boring up until, uuuuuuuuuuh about 40 minutes from now actually

So Reverie wakes up, happy new year, time to head downstairs to

no no no no no non on onojnkofidflasjk NO

NOOOOO

no!

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

no

inhales

okay.

I, in real life, staring at my Odin, literally out loud said, "Oh fuck ALL the way off."

Anyway, we meet up at the shrine by luck, hahhaaha what a crazy random happenstance.

Also: HARU! MY GOD! WHAT A KNOCKOUT! I feel like her kimono might cost more than my fucking car.

But there is already a very weird tension in the air when the group gets together. They all meet up at a shrine that has no visitors because it seems like no one in the world is wishing for anything because their lives are so perfect, so the crew is like "well! this was nice. uh see ya!" and the vibes are so bad. Immediately everything feels like a world encased in glass, like a pinned insect that just got a shot of euthanasia and is starting to lock into place.

It is fucking EERIE as shit.

oh my god I'm gonna sharpen an axe and cut down your Lotus Tree, Maruki, I swear to god

"Would you join the Phantom Thieves" as an indicator that all is perfect and no one needs to do anything is sure Something.

Somehow, just watch me, I will find a way to blame this all on Mishima again. I'm already trying to calculate the trajectory.

SPITTAKE

I FUCKIGN HOLLARED OH MY GOD

I don't want to sound like the average Atlus developer right now, Morgana, but I think you may have gained some weight.

Also, sidebar: COWARDS for changing Morgana's voice actor for this. COWARDS!!!!! Cassandra Lee Morris has been doing fucking WORK with this character, I literally would rather her continue voicing him with a pitch modulation effect than swapping the VA, /HISSES ANGRILY

Anyway. Reverie and I are both in complete unity at the moment because all of this is Fucked.

Again, me, IRL, shouting "NO" at my Odin.

oh i feel ill from this, this is horrendous. Maruki, you got a fucking storm coming, and i have a fusioned Izanagi-no-Okami with your name on it.

LOOK AT REVERIE HERE. So like I've ranted about how the P4MC was such a non-character while Reverie is so so much more. I can feel how freaked out he is even while he's still a mostly silent protagonist. The fear he feels as he tries to make sense of this situation and starts to wonder how far it spreads is fucking radiating from his posture and how he's watching everyone from over his popped collar and event he way he hasn't turned the chair around to face them, he is cheated away from everyone.

God, it's amazing. I have a lot of issues with P5R but the protagonist is a triumph.

Oh, immediately before he said a single fucking thing. He knows. He knows. He walks in and takes one look around and he knows.

Which in of itself is fascinating and I wanna sink my teeth into what that means.

Everyone in this world is getting their desires. No! No that's incorrect. What they are getting is their pain taken away. I remember Maruki's absolutely batshit closing speech as he left the school in November.

Everyone is getting a life where the biggest traumatic moments did not happen. Futaba never lost her mother and thus Sojiro never lost his best friend. Morgana gets to be human because he admires humans so much. Ryuji was never kicked off the track team. Haru never had the falling out that lead to her father's death.

But Reverie? I don't know what he gets. Before the switch flipped on the Lotus Tree, Sae revealed that the woman who was involved in Reverie's false assault accusation might testify, so his record might even be overturned.

So we have Reverie, and we have Akechi. The two Wild Cards who were puppets of a bored god (who, uh, since Philemon isn't actually involved in this I don't really know anymore what Yaldabaoth's whole deal was but whatever, lean with it rock with it).

I don't know if you can undo the trauma of being Goro Akechi.

... I'm thinking about Reverie, and about the constant drumbeat of his connection to Akechi. Wanting to keep a promise.

I just had a really horrible thought but also it's so gay that I dunno if Atlus would Go There. We'll see.

I know I have never been happier to see you. Been a while, Beige Boy. Love the outfit, actually, you look great in actual colors.

/points directly at this

Did Akechi survive or did Maruki being him back because Reverie had unfinished business with him.

That is my question.

Don't answer it, anyone, but what I am thinking is either Akechi will reveal how he survived the Palace (unlikely) or it turns out he fucking didn't and this was the start of the Lotus Tree.

Anyway, Akechi reveals that he was being questioned for the Shido stuff and then they just.... let him go. No charges. He's free. Which is impossible, obviously. And now Wakaba Isshiki is walking around alive.

that lil pose is so gay. i wonder if Akechi is meant to be Actually Gay. serious question. like, we got Actually Queer characters in P4 so we know the people at Atlus know gay people exist, but this game has been scrubbed clear of any queerness.

except Akechi has such intense gay vibes and, sure I'll say it, mannerisms that I wonder if he is subtextually meant to be gay. especially since to my recollection, every male character in this game has been mentioned to be attracted to women except him. like, I did notice that, thank you.

((ALSO, SIDEBAR: YOU KNOW WHAT I MISS FROM P3 AND P4? THE GIRLS HAVING CRUSHES ON EACH OTHER. I miss the casual flirtation and interest all the girls had together. That's also been stripped out of P5 and it sucks.))

anyway what the fuck was I saying. Akechi gay, he and Reverie need to investigate.

And then Kasumi calls to be like "heeeeeeeeeeey so sorry to bother you buuuuuut that palace we ran into at the stadium is back????? is that okay?"

Okay another thing, sorry that this post is like All About Akechi but

lmao Akechi without his mask is a delight. this man is a bitch and he does not give a fuck and nothing in this world or the next impresses him. it is for real so fun how his cadence and register have subtly changed, he doesn't soften his syllables as much anymore, and he is direct as a gunshot.

Between him and Maruki, this whole segment of the game is like Freaks Only, Normies GTFO and I am thrilled. I am a freak, it's me. This is for me.

[themarginalthinker]

Epicenter

'1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, this place took a header, right into the crack. Now it's ours.'

-

Sleep all day, party all night, ever grow old and never die. Vampirism indeed had its perks.

Those were of course the obvious ones. There was also the ability to stuff yourself with more substances than could kill a bull elephant and get up the next night perfectly fine (if perhaps walking a little wobbly.) You could hear a mouse's heartbeat from half a mile away (if you really wanted to, and if your packmates would stop projecting that stupid fucking song into your head for half a fucking minute.) You could even fly!

That one really did have basically no downsides, save for being a mite hungry after an extended time in the air. Nothing above you but stars and the moon, falling upwards into a velvet void, while the world dissipated below. Weightless. Careless.

The senses made for things humans didn't need.

David supposes it's why he could tell something was off enough to rouse him from the daysleep only moments before it happened.

One moment he was unconscious, drifting, in that space were dreams have ended and there is only rest, and the next, his eyes are snapping wide open, and staring at the far wall like he expects it to come forward and hit him.

In fact, maybe some part of his brain actually does expect that. There was a tension in the back of his head, and it was pulling tighter and tighter with ever second, his claws digging into the bar above him, unable to make sense of what was happening when a sudden pit of move now, move now, MOVE NOWNOWNOW- dropped like a lead weight in his chest.

"UP!" He shouted, reaching to the side. "UP, NOW!"

He hits Dwayne first, closest to him, who startles awake enough at the hard physical contact, but the moment he returns to consciousness, the shrieking in David's head enters his own, and he's moving like lighting. No questions, no panic, (thank god, David doesn't know what he'd do without Dwayne's steadiness to calm his own flighty anxiousness at times...) Just pure, concentrated action.

Dwayne flips around, reaching out and shoving Marko and Paul, arms locked around each other. Again, the moment they wake, they're like skittering animals in each other's heads.

Well, Paul is anyway.

Marko, on the other hand, has a moment of fear, bleeding over from David and Dwayne and Paul, and then it's almost like...expectation settles over his features. A calmness that seems almost incongruous with the rest. Much like Dwayne, anyway, he's a pragmatist, and doesn't give way to panic.

The four of them don't waste time, however. David is first down, swinging to catch his hands on the roosting bars and swing around to land in a crouch on the ground. The others follow, Dwayne landing like a cat, Marko bounding a few times as he lands, and Paul somehow managing all his gangly limbs in something almost graceful.

They're out of the crawl space in seconds, speed being the key. They can't be in the enclosed space.

Luckily, it's far enough in the day that the long hours of afternoon are passed, and the sunlight can't get through the few cracks in the 'roof' of the hotel atrium. It's dark, but they aren't going to be lighting any fires.

The pack gathers upwards, towards the ceiling, perching on an old beam. Not on the floor, not in the shadows of the old, massive marble pillars. They sit, claws digging into cracks in the stone.

A second ticks by. Then another. That feeling builds in David's head, like a breath inwards but too much, twice as long.

And then it breaks.

The the fist of an angry god, like the world itself fracturing, it shakes.

Paul cries out, and Marko reaches out to steady him. Dwayne presses against David, who presses back, keeping each other from tumbling even with their grips. Like someone had gripped the Earth as if it were a card table and then violently started to push and pull at it, the stone under them jerked. Plumes of dust and dirt rained down from the ceiling, little rocks bouncing off their heads. Below, their trinkets and baubles rattled and crashed against each other - something deep in the back of the caves crashing and David hears Paul's distant hope that a nook where he stored his stuff hadn't collapsed.

And....it's over. A single, frantic movement of the world, and then it's over.

Marko and Paul don't let go of each other, blinking. David pulls away from Dwayne, and takes an immediate look around.

There are still wafts of dirt shimmying from the ceiling, letting in a dangerous bit of light (to a human it would be imperceptible, but for David and his, it spells a nasty burn if they're not careful.) There are more roots hanging down, displaced. Some of the rock formations that held up the shape of the cave have shifted, and at one side, a marble column that had fallen at an angle years and years ago, had now fully collapsed to the ground. (So much for the books Dwayne had stashed under it...)

But. No one was hurt. Nothing had been lost that couldn't be dug out, or dusted off, or done without.

David breathes a sigh. Finally, the tension was gone.

"Just call you Mister Richter, huh?" Marko says.

David rolls his eyes.