#it would probably be best for everyone involved if i did not elaborate

[unrealcorvus]

i love my mutals blogs the way dogs love seal carcasses.

@blurred-cat @yonderghostshistories @geralds-little-art-corner @thisusernameisunique @foxwithasword

@gay-ass-bitch @01thefool @rajumat @sleep-deprived-person @gay-ass-bitch

@grayraccoon @doppleganger-rental @themindofnameagh

[bluegiragi]

You elaborated wonderfully on how Horangi views other Haetae and his relationship to them (I love how your brain works fr every tidbit of what you come up with is scrumptious).

You also gave us vague ideas of how Price and Soap view other dragons/werewolves.

But I’d love to know explicitly, How does everyone in 141 (and Konig) view others of their kind? How do they get treated by other monsters and hybrids? (I’d like to imagine they get a slight amount of flack for cooperating sometimes with the likes of humans)

lots of reading in this post, but I’ll section it off into Harpy, Wraith and Percht so it’s a bit more organized :)

Harpies

Harpy culture really prioritises independence above all else, to the point that their young are left to fend for themselves after they turn 16. They’re also quite a prideful bunch, which means they really dislike sharing space with other harpies. In the military it can be especially dicey, since two harpies will instinctively consider it an insult if they’re forced to be on the same team (it’d be like telling them you don’t think they’re good enough on their own) and it’ll result in a fight at worst and a cold, distant relationship at best. Even Gaz, who is pretty coolheaded and thoughtful as far as harpies go, would be irritated in that sort of situation.

Harpies don’t have this kind of instant animosity for any other flighted monster (like dragons) although they’ll still get a bit competitive. That irritation is a remnant instinct from back when they’d battle each other in the sky to prove themselves to mates - it would always end with one, dead, plummeting to the earth and the other victorious, still flapping. Their mating rituals are a lot less lethal these days, but that immediate wariness around their own kind has stuck.

Wraiths

There is no confirmed number of wraiths currently existing and probably never will be, because they’re impossible to keep track of. However, their numbers are probably very low, simply because the circumstances needed to create a wraith are extremely specific and unlikely to naturally occur.

Because of this, it’s unknown if two wraiths have ever even met - Ghost has definitely never met another one in his whole life (and never wants to either)- but if they did, chances are it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. They are volatile, capable of massive amounts of destruction if let loose and (so far) impossible to contain against their will. I think they’d mostly be apathetic to one another in a “don’t fuck with me, and I won’t fuck with you” sort of way but they’re naturally sort of angry and vengeful, so it’s best to assume violent confrontation is an inevitability.

For what it’s worth, I think if Ghost did meet another wraith, he’d pity them.

Perchts

Perchts like each other well enough, so long as nobody veers away from tradition too much. They’re monsters that are perfectly happy living within their very insular, very regimented communities and distrust anything that differs from the norm. Their judgemental ways come from generations of belief that their kind all working towards the same goal is the only thing allowing them to survive in the remote areas they call home. However, they tend to go way too far, and punish any deviancy with draconian responses like public beatings and even exile.

König (or Klaus, as he was once known) tried his best in their community but he was doomed from the start with his enormous stature. He adopted a hunch as a child to try to fit in with his peers but it just wasn’t enough. After one too many mistakes, he was beaten and left for dead, effectively disowned by his own kind.

He was saved by a scouting party that happened to be in the area and then voluntarily allowed himself to be mutated so that he could be useful. He was all too happy to do so in the moment with spite against his own kind fueling him, but he regrets it a little nowadays as it’s started to take its toll on him.

Fun fact: Perchts can shapeshift into humans to hide their monstrous features. This means that Konig’s percht form is how he truly is, and whenever you see him as a human, that’s him in his shifted form.

König has a difficult relationship with Perchts nowadays. He hasn’t seen another one in decades since they all avoid large clusters of people like cities and villages. I think if he did meet another one he’d try to run away - he still feels some shame about never being accepted.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I've been reading through your blog for the past few days and everything you write is so amazing. I was wondering if maybe you would consider writing something about an aro high schooler who gets asked out by this person they've convinced themselves that they like, but when they're actually asked about it, it just feels wrong? (Bonus points if they think kissing is gross because imo it is) - sincerely, an aroace teen writer who is very inspired by you

"River kissed you!?" Their best friend shrieked, with all of the excitement that the protagonist had expected to feel.

They managed a weak smile. Their stomach squirmed.

It was supposed to be great, wasn't it? A first kiss. People wrote novels about them. It was the epic climax of the episode. It was fireworks and a fluttering stomach, it was the whole world narrowing down to a single moment, it was heart pounding love.

It was gross.

"...was it bad?" their friend asked, catching their expression. Their face fell. A smashed plate of disappointment.

The protagonist swallowed. "It was...wet."

"I mean, it takes a bit of practice to get good at it. Even with the right person. Did they stick their tongue down your throat?"

"No. I don't think so? I mean - it was fine." It would be fine. It would definitely be fine. Maybe their first kiss hadn't exactly been what they were hoping for, but it would get better. Wouldn't it? Their throat suddenly felt horribly tight. They pressed their lips together to keep their voice from wobbling and took a breath. "You're probably right. I mean, I don't know if they've ever kissed anyone before either. Maybe I was really bad at it."

"No!"

"It's okay." At least, if they were bad at kissing, that was something they could improve upon. At least it wouldn't always feel so...

It wasn't like it was all some elaborate ruse the whole population was in on, anyway. That would be ridiculous!

It had been a nice night otherwise. The movie had been good, and their hands had touched over the popcorn, and they'd got into a great discussion about the plot after.

It would get better.

...it did not get better, though.

They started to find excuses not to kiss River; "Let's take it slow."

A kiss on the head or the cheek wasn't so bad, or like a one second peck on the mouth. It was all the other kisses.

When it didn't feel wrong, they felt nothing. They counted the awkward seconds for it to be over, then vowed to do much better next time when they caught a glimpse of the confused sort of hurt in River's eyes.

"I know you're shy," River said, one day, in a trying-to-be-casual voice. "But you like...never kiss me. It's always me kissing you. Did I..." Their voice dropped, agonised, "am I really bad at it or something?"

"No, no!"

"Oh, good."

"I just - I don't now." Their stomach squeezed. "I'm not sure I really like kissing," they confessed. "It's - I don't know." It felt rude to say ew.

"Oh," River said, in a tone of less good, but trying to be chill and non-judgy. "Okay."

"Sorry."

"It's okay." River took their hand, squeezed. "Kissing isn't everything, I guess. There are other things."

For a second, just a second, they were sure they'd never loved anyone more.

They liked River. Didn't they? They certainly thought they had. They had those cheekbones, and those pretty eyes, and they were always nice to everyone. They made the protagonist laugh, at least when there wasn't kissing involved.

It should have all been perfect.

They'd always wanted to fall in love.

In the end, they broke up after about three months.

The protagonist didn't ask what they'd done wrong, because it felt obvious, even if River wasn't cruel enough to say it. Maybe they should have ended it themselves, instead of forcing River to do it. Probably.

But what could they possibly say? It's not you, it's me. Nobody would believe that even if it was true. Oh, I know I said yes to dating you, but I'm just not that into you. That felt far too mean. It wasn't like River had done anything bad.

Their best friend held them while they cried, wracking things that choked up in their chest.

"What if I die alone?"

"Don't be stupid." Their best friend hugged them hard. "Of course you're not going to lie alone. River wasn't that great anyway! There's clearly something wrong with you if they don't want you."

The protagonist didn't quite dare say that wasn't exactly how it happened.

They kissed a few other people over the years, normally around the time when everyone else did. New Year, at the strike of twelve. If there wasn't any fireworks in the kiss, at least they were popping and fizzing outside and a new year was a new slate. They tried once after a few too many cocktails, with a friend, because maybe it would feel a little better when they were tipsy. With someone who definitely knew what they were doing.

It wasn't, though.

"You'll find the right person," their best friend said. "It's different when it's the right person, you know? Like me and Willow. I didn't think, but then..." They were happily in love; exuberant on it, nonstop on it.

The protagonist didn't want to resent it. They didn't want to be that person, spitting bitter like the villain in a fairytale.

"Romance novels are very exaggerated," their best friend said. "It's not always butterflies. It doesn't have to be butterflies to be real, you know? It's just someone you really want to spend time with."

But, the more the protagonist thought about it, the more they weren't sure that was quite true. There were plenty of people that they liked being around. It still didn't make them want to kiss them.

They weren't even sure they wanted to fall in love anymore. It wasn't like they spent most of their life miserable or anything. It was just...sometimes, when everyone else in the room had someone, or their parents asked them yet again if there was anyone they'd been seeing. Even in the height of drama, it all seemed so much easier for them.

They were twenty when they first came across the words.

Aromantic Asexual.

It was the second time they'd cried over the whole kissing thing.

That time it was relief.

"Oh my god," they left their best friend a message, vindicated. "It is an elaborate ruse!!! I'm going to bite something!!"

It got better, after that.

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Starting the year off right

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral sex, fingering, p in v, slight foot fetish if you squint.

A/N: Suprise, I wanted to try my hand at a smutty New Year's fic

Summary: Frankie is tired of Benny setting him up with the worst people, but he may change his mind after seeing you.

Word Count: 3k

“Frank, c'mon you really think I would set you up with someone you wouldn’t like?” Benny slurs while he places his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah because you did.” Frankie rolls his eyes as he thinks of Mya. “She started calling herself my girlfriend after one date dude. I’m not even gonna get into the wedding album she made after 1 month.”

Benny winces, forgetting about that slip up. To be honest he didn’t know her that well; he just thought she was nice, and hot. “One time dude and I’m trying to make up for it by introducing you to my girl.” 

The girl in question being you. You had met Benny at the gym when he kicked some asshole guy out for harassing you. Turns out he owned the gym and made sure to tell you to come ask for him directly if something similar happens. Although you didn’t have any more incidents Benny and you struck up a friendship, even working out together when you were both free.

You weren’t nearly as outgoing as Benny but once you got comfortable you wouldn’t shut up about anything. Benny was shocked by the switch being flipped but it allowed him to get to know you more. He realized you would be perfect for his best friend Frankie even if neither of you knew it. Although Benny was sure he needed to be sure so he had you meet Will over lunch. 

If Will signed off Benny knew Fish couldn’t say no, Will is everybody’s voice of reason. After the lunch Will confirmed what Benny had already suspected but he told his little brother not to involve him in some elaborate plan. 

Francisco still doubts Benny’s match making skills but decides he could just let the girl down gently. Will notices his hesitance and decides to step in. “As much as I hate saying it Benny is right, she’d be perfect for you Fish.” Although he didn’t want to be roped into a stupid plan, he still wants his friend to be happy so he vouches for Benny’s set up.

With Will co-signing Frankie’s doubts lessen, if Will thinks he should try it out maybe he should. It’s not like he himself is getting anywhere in his dating life. He just hopes that the girl isn’t crazy like last time.

……..

Walking up to Benny’s door you feel the bass from the music vibrating throughout your whole body. Your nerves cause you to doubt the outfit you picked out, the strappy heels paired with a barely there black dress. Your boobs looked bigger than you’d ever seen them. What if everybody else is just wearing jean shorts and t-shirts and here you are dressed like you’re going to the club.

Unsure of if you should just walk in or text Ben you’re here you bite the bullet and check the door first not wanting to take him from his hosting duties. It opens up and the even louder music has you reeling back like you’ve been hit. You take a peek at other girls' outfits and let out a sigh of relief when they are dressed just like you. Closing the door behind you, you go off in search of Benny.

You didn’t realize he knew this many people but then again he could probably make friends with nuns. He wasn’t in the living room, on the porch, or by the makeshift dance floor so you cut your losses and head to the kitchen for a drink. You walk in to find three men in the middle of a conversation you almost turn to leave before realizing you recognize two of them Will and Benny. Benny immediately barrels over to you scooping you up in a tight hug and spinning around, with the amount of energy he has you realize he must be tipsy. While he spins you, you manage to wish everyone a Happy New Year’s Eve.

After he puts you down you greet Will with a side hug and look at the unknown man before you. He’s wearing a gray sweater that stretches at his shoulders from how broad they are. The black jeans he’s wearing frame his legs perfectly, but you find yourself drawn to his thick thighs. Finally you look at his face and see how handsome he is, his patchy beard making you swoon like a 9 year old with a crush. 

“Fish this is the girl I was telling you about,” Benny places both hands on your shoulders and you look up to smile at Fish while Ben tells him your name. “And this is Franciso Morales, my very best friend.” Everyone laughs at Ben’s antics. 

“Will I think someone’s calling us over there, would you excuse us for a second guys?” Nobody was fallin for Benny’s bullshit line and Will did follow him, but not without throwing a smirk at Frankie.

Once they’re out of the kitchen Frankie gets a chance to drink you in. The mini black dress you were wearing hugged your body like a glove. He felt like a creep for ogling how great your tits look, his favorite part were your legs in those strappy heels. It was something about the way the heels framed your legs, making them look fresh out of a painting. Frankie wouldn’t say he was a foot guy but the way your white toe nail polish looks, he might be rethinking.

Frankie winced before breaking the awkward silence, “I’m sorry about that he’s always setting me up.” But he has to give it to Benny this time, he may have actually pulled through. 

You feel your face get hot and you manage to stutter out, “I didn’t know he was gonna do that I would’ve prepared or-” you don’t even know where you were going with that sentence so you stop altogether. 

Frankie thinks you’re more than prepared but he doesn’t voice it. “Do you want anything to drink?” He awkwardly motions toward the counter of fully stocked alcohol.

You survey the expanse of the counter swearing off dark liquor. Wanting to loosen up you opt for shots of vodka. After three you turn to Frankie who has raised his eyebrow before saying, “No chaser? You’re stronger than me.” 

You make sure to take an extra long look at his arms and chest before responding “I highly doubt that.” Once you realized what you said your eyes widened, you only had three shots and your mouth was already loose. 

Frankie takes it in stride and laughs clearly flattered and amused by your delivery. “How’d you and Benny meet?” He’s curious to know how you two crossed paths.

“Oh I went to his gym, but I didn't know it was his at the time, and this guy would not leave me alone. Benny had to step in and kick him out since we wouldn’t take my no for an answer.” Frankie blood boils at the thought, from what he could gather you seem like a quiet girl. He’s sure that asshole took advantage of you not wanting to make a scene. “But after that Benny was the one who couldn’t leave me alone, we started working out together and hanging out outside the gym.” You conclude your story while staring up at Frankie’s chocolate brown eyes, you swear they sparkle. 

“What about you? How did you guys meet?” You ask curious to know. 

“Oh I met Will first because we were in delta force together, somehow Benny squirmed his way in too. Somehow he became everyone’s annoying little brother.” Although he acts annoyed you could tell he truly cares for Benny. 

“Aww isn’t that sweet.” You coo at him before asking, “You gonna nurse that beer all night or are you gonna take a couple shots with me?”

Frankie takes you up on the challenge knowing he’ll regret it in the morning, but he’d never been able to say no to a pretty girl. The both of you down three shots before looking up at each other with loose grins. 

Before you could get the chance to ask Frankie if he wanted to dance you felt something push you. Your eyes widen with the realization that you are heading straight into Frankie’s chest. He catches you by the waist and you capitalize on the opportunity to squeeze his biceps. You look up only to find Frankie not even looking at you, his face full of anger toward the guy that bumped into you. He heatedly tells him, “Watch where the fuck you’re going.” He immediately checks on you, wondering if you’re ok.

You manage to giggle a little before squeezing his arms, assuring him you’re perfectly fine. The both of you just stare at each other, you have a goofy grin on your face and he peers down at you with a soft look. “Did you wanna dance Fish?” You ask not forgetting the weird name Ben used. He responds with a nod and only takes one arm from your waist guiding you to the dancefloor. 

All your shyness from earlier has dissipated, the vodka had done its job. The song playing you recognized as one of Megan thee stallion, you waste no time in turning around and placing your ass directly on Frankie’s crotch. He wastes no time placing his hands on your hips and letting you take the lead. 

You take your time slowly grinding on him while placing your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. Frankie’s breathing becomes uneven at the way you’re moving against him, making his dick strain against his zipper. You feel how hard and heavy he is, encouraging you to slightly bend over more. “Shit,” Frankie can’t help the groan that follows. His resolve breaks and he moves against you with the same vigor as you. At this point the two of you were just dry humping but it’s not like you’re the only ones. In fact everybody on the dancefloor was doing some form of it.

If Frankie keeps going he knows he’ll cum in his pants so he squeezes your hips and turns you around to face him. He’s taken by surprise when your lips capture his in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands travel further down until you feel him cup your ass, releasing a satisfied moan from you. Frankie takes his chance and slips his tongue in your mouth, licking and playing with your tongue. 

Surprisingly you pull back first but before he could question it you take his hand guiding him off the dancefloor and toward the steps. Once you reach the top you open the door to the bathroom and pull Frankie in with you. He has you pinned to the bathroom counter, no space between your bodies whatsoever.

“What do you want, cariño?” Frankie has to ask because he knows exactly what he wants but he needs to hear you say it. 

You bring one leg up to wrap around his waist and subtly grind before answering, “You. All of you.”

Frankie hooks his hand under your knee pressing his hard bulge even further into your core, giving you exactly what you need. You thank him by kissing his neck, you know you’ve found his sweet spot when he stutters for a moment while grinding into you. This only spurs you on and you start licking and sucking on that spot wanting to leave your mark. You hear his uneven breathing in your ear, his hand grips your leg harder trying to find purchase somewhere. 

When you're satisfied you lick a trail all the way from his neck to his mouth. The both of you finish where you left off with the last kiss, devouring each other. You moan into his mouth when he grinds against your clit just right. Deciding you want more you trail your hand down his chest and start fumbling with his zipper. He takes you que and gets down on his knees, right in front of your pussy.

He takes his time trailing his hands up your legs, wanting to commit everything to memory. He finally lifts up your dress ready to pull down your panties, only for him to find you’re not wearing any. He looks up at you with his pupils blown wide and you can feel the lust radiating off of him. Frankie takes one leg to put on his shoulder before his tongue licks a stripe on your already wet pussy. You can’t help the moan that came out.

Your hands grip the edge of the sink for stability while Frankie flicks his tongue against your clit. With your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you start to rock your hips against his tongue. You run your fingers through his hair managing to bring him closer. His hand moves from the back of your leg, past your upper thigh, to rub at your entrance. The action makes you cry out for more.

He obliges you when he puts in two thick fingers. He rubs at your walls trying to find your g-spot, he knows he’s got it when your leg tightens on his shoulder. Your hips rock feverously against his mouth while he sucks on your clit in tandem with his fingers. As rubbing your g-spot you feel yourself clench harder and harder. From the tension in your body you know you are close, but Frankie pulls away both his mouth and his fingers.

You go to whine but he swiftly stands up and turns you around so you face the mirror. His large hand on your back urges you to bend over, when you do you feel the cold air hit your wet emtrace. He slides his cock between your lips trying to get it wetter, when he finally slides into you you let out a gasp the same time he grunts. You feel how thick he is as he slowly fills you up. 

When he finally bottoms out you look up at him in the mirror only to find him already staring down at you. While maintaining eye contact he rears his hips back and snaps them against your ass making a loud squelching sound fill the bathroom. He picks up his pace causing you to once again find purchase on the sink edges. All you can do is grip the counter and moan his name, while his balls slap against your puffy lips. 

The both of you become alarmed when you hear shouting sounding from outside of the bathroom. Frankie is quick to pull out and crack open the door, but neither of you are no longer worried once you hear the guest counting down to midnight. Since all worries of danger are gone Frankie resumes his position this time placing a firm hand on your shoulder. His unrelenting pace has you gasping for air that seems limited in the small bathroom.

Frankie hears the cheers of guests signaling the new year, sliding his hand under your chin he pulls you up for a sloppy kiss. Both his tongue and his cock invade different parts of your body. Your hands grip the counter as you feel yourself get closer, Frankie’s cock rubbing your sweet spot has your mouth watering. 

With your peak crashing over you like a wave you fall flat on the counter like jello. Frankie utilizes your jelly-like state to lift one leg onto the counter to give himself a better view. Each of his thrusts moves you back and forth on the counter. The filthy sounds that fill the bathroom become louder. The aftershocks of your orgasm have you clenching down on him involuntarily.

As he gets closer he no longer pistons his hips he instead cages his body over you and ruts himself into you. With his head thrown back, you feel the warm spurts of his cum filling you up. Unable to stop yourself you clench as hard as you can milking him, his head drops to your shoulder as he lets out a loud groan. You both stay like that until you feel him leaking from you, moving to get up he takes the hint. 

You barely make it to the toilet before you plop down willing yourself to pee and let his cum leak out of you. After finishing up your business you see him pulling up his pants and fixing them before he looks in the mirror. He inspects your handy work before turning to you with his eyebrows raised. 

You grimace before explaining, “I got a little carried away. Can you blame me?” You emphasize your point with your thumb and pointer finger. He laughs at your explanation and moves behind you while you wash your hands. Frankie's hands find their way to your hips once again as he plants small kisses on your neck. 

“It’s only fair I give you one back.” You giggle as he mouths at your neck looking for your sweet spot. But the moment ends when there’s pounding at the door. You hear Benny’s muffled voice telling you to get the fuck out of his bathroom. Both you and Frankie can’t help the cackle that escapes, you are out of breath at the prospect of being caught like horny teenagers. When you finally open the door to reveal an angry Benny he’s shocked to find you two. 

Soon enough though he smirks at the both of you an ‘I told you so’ on the tip of his tongue until he remembers why he’s there. He pushes past the both of you mumbling how he needs to piss, you and Frankie hot tail it out of there. Right before you head back downstairs you hear him shout about how it ‘reeks of sex’ in there. After another laughing fit, you and Frankie wish each other a Happy New Year suddenly feeling a little awkward. 

Frankie turns to you while scratching the back of his neck. He asks, “Do you think I could get your uh number?”

“I just had your cum dripping out of me and you’re nervous to ask for my number?” Frankie’s face turns beet red before you decide to stop teasing him and give him your number. You set a reminder on your phone to give Benny an edible arrangement for setting this thing up. 

[snarky-magpie]

You are one of the few people who ship prongsfoot and Jegulus. How do you keep that up in the fandom and what is so appealing for you about both Jegulus and Prongsfoot? Elaborate

Hi nonnie, thanks for such an interesting ask (and also thanks for confirming my vague impression that most people choose one or the other ship but rarely both), and I apologize for the incoming wall of text.

How do I keep that up in the fandom—well, tbh, mostly by staying in my corner and not interacting with the fandom all that much. Connecting with people doesn't come naturally to me in general (hello undiagnosed autism), so this is my usual mode of operation anyway. However, Jegulus shippers have been mostly lovely, even though they don't seem to engage much, which I'm guessing is partly because they have so much material to choose from, so it can get kinda overwhelming and impossible to interact with everything and everyone. I did meet a few great people through Jegulus, though, and I treasure those friendships highly. When I tried to interact with the prongsfoot people, I was quickly taught that Jegulus shippers are not welcome. (I mean come on, this is ridiculous, it's just making imaginary people fall in love, it shouldn't be this divisive). It almost soured me on the ship altogether, but I love James and Sirius too much, so I just decided to stick to my lane, quietly write about them, and not get involved in this part of the community. It makes me a little sad, but that's the way things are.

Anyway. Now onto the more fun part, what I find appealing about both of these ships. To me, they're two different sides of the same coin, sort of. I believe I already mentioned this once, but Jegulus has a lot of inherently popular tropes going for it:

Enemies to lovers

Dating/pining in secret

Best friend's brother

Grumpy x sunshine

Sport rivals (quidditch or any other sport in modern AUs)

Second chances (in case Regulus joins the DE and then changes his mind)

Starcrossed lovers (pun intended)

Redemption arc

Tragic endings (if that's your thing)

So despite the characters never interacting in canon, there's a lot to build on and that's what makes the ship so attractive to a lot of readers and writers, myself included. Also, precisely because these two characters never really interacted in canon, we have so much room for interpretation, and almost nothing of it can be called wrong (I mean, it's fic, so it inherently can't be wrong, but still.). If you squint, you can even imagine Jegulus IS canon. Do we know who James dated before Lily? Nope. Him so obnoxiously crushing on a popular girl could very well be overcompensating. So yes, there's a lot to play with.

Prongsfoot, on the other hand, has a lot of basis in canon (I know this doesn't have to matter, but my OCD brain kinda likes it when things align with canon. That doesn't mean I agree or support JKR. She can rot for all I care.) James and Sirius are canonically besties. And not only besties, they're completely unhinged about each other. We only see them interact rather briefly, but it's clear they're devoted to each other. (I particularly love the moment when a girl eyes Sirius hopefully and he completely misses it because he's too busy ogling James.) Sirius is the only one who can make James behave. James is the one Sirius runs to when he needs sanctuary. They created freaking two-way mirrors to communicate when the other was in detention because they're so co-dependent an hour or two without speaking to the other is just too long. I know people argue with "yes, because they're brothers" - excuse me, do you actually have siblings? This is not sibling behavior :D (Also, they're not. Sirius lived with the Potters for about a year when he was 16 before moving out, and that's that.) Tbh, I don't understand why this ship isn't top-tier popular because, in any other fandom, it would be, but here, Wolfstar stole their spotlight, and the rest is history. Probably partly because we don't actually see James and Sirius both alive at the same time. (That's just my guess, though.) Speaking in story tropes, they're the epitome of friends-to-lovers, (possibly bi/gay awakening), soulmates, oblivious idiots. I'm generally a big fan of the friends-to-lovers dynamic, so that's probably what attracts me most to this ship.

So for me, as a writer, it's fun to explore these different facets of the characters—because the James from prongsfoot is not the same James who loves Regulus (although sometimes it's confusing to keep all these headcanons separated in my brain, and they start to influence each other, lol). It's also fun to write the different dynamics, so I don't get bored.

TL;DR: Both ships are great for different reasons, I wish people were more tolerant of other ships (and characters), and I've got a long prongsfoot and jegulus story coming in case you're interested. Cheers, and once again, thanks for the ask.

(PS. this is what happens when someone tells me to elaborate.)

[thunderroseses]

Neptune from the Royal Au (everything will be redone in digital art when I have more energy!)

HISTORY~

Neptune’s kingdom is known as the forever frozen kingdom, one forged from war and bloodshed from battles long gone, during the multiple wars they were under control of the Sun’s empire and any battle Sun got into so did they, meaning they very war torn for much of their history until the Great War that involved many of the Solar System kingdoms, Neptune was not welling to give up easily as they raised above all else to stay alive and keep their citizens safe.

Sun gave them their independence after this as they couldn’t keep their many colonies under control any long as Sun needed to focus on his own Kingdom.

Clothing~

Warmth is the upmost important as it is almost always snowing or cold out, so they wear multiple layers that keep them warm will also expressing their nation pride, on Neptune’s coat you can see their nation flower that is royal purple and fish, as they have a booming fishing industry (more on it later) underneath the coat is a pale white dress, to keep focus on the elaborate coat, it is light and flowing, as to make it easy to move and not weigh them down, the veil is to keep their head/ears warm and having a layer between her head and crown, as metal can get really cold.

For the braids it’s tradition from the start of their villages to have two braids with dark blue ribbons in their hair for the first daughter, while the other younger daughter wear light blue instead, it shows their maturity and wellness to serve their citizens and are passed down by their mother after they hit puberty, believing that is when they are mature enough to know the responsibility they are excepting by taking the ribbon, this is also a huge celebration that the girl are trained for since they were little.

Extra~

Neptunes kingdom has a lot of bright colours to keep their moods up in the cold weather, it also help other find their way between towns in case of storm comes in. Even if it’s cold out everyone is pretty happy and friendly for those brave enough to visit despite the cold.

They are mostly known as a ice fishing nation, which is how they get most of their fish since the ice makes it hard to fish normally, they sell the freshest and best tasting fish on the market right next to Earth (something she is not happy about lol) if anyone is brave enough to visit it’s for the sea food :)

Neptune has memory loss after part of a castle collapsed onto her during the war, she was only six at the time and has a long lasting consequences because of it, those being memory loss/trouble and phantom pain that strikes up sometime leaving her bedridden.

Uranus parents are the cause of the castle collapse and while they didn’t mean to hurt such a small child, it was collateral from the war effort, Neptune’s parents were wary of Neptune hanging with Uranus (this is long after the war) but lighted after they saw how much it helped with Neptune’s memory problems as well as making Neptune more social then she was before. Now the parents are more friendly with each other, often going over to Uranus nation a few times a year (Uranus would go over to Neptune’s but had health problems which are also consequence from the war more on it in Uranus section)

Neptune is very close with Uranus and they try to keep in touch via mail, she is not as close to the other gas giants but is friendly with them.

She doesn’t really know the rocky planets, maybe when she was younger but can no longer remember anything about them, same with Sun even if she was their ruler for years

I’m probably going to post Uranus’ next, I’ve been really enjoying making up stories for all the different kingdoms and what their kingdoms would be like, if anyone else want so join in I’ll be happy to share it and talk with them to bounce ideas off each other!

Here’s so extra drawing I’ve made, mostly for the villagers outfits



[public-trans-it-deactivated20240]

If you are trans, how do you have an alter that isn't? (I'm asking out of ignorance and genuine curiosity, not malice. I know you haven't had the best anons lately)

Thank you for the parenthetical on that one. I didn't read it that way at all, but I appreciate someone going out of their way to specify that it's just curiosity and not someone sealioning. I also just love parentheticals in general. Feel free to ask more, or DM me! I'm happy to go into more depth.

The answer is quite simple: I'm just gonna force femme him, duh. (Okay, no, not really)

Read More

A warning upfront: This post is likely going to be written by multiple alters. Expect sudden shifts in tone, as well as shifts between first - and third-person perspectives. It's also gonna be a lot of rambling. I'm going to fucking hate it tbh. But I'm also more than happy to elaborate on specifics. The joys of having conflicting opinions on a single topic.

For context, this ask is in reply to this previous post I made about DID, how I feel names relate to it, and how i feel my experience differs from other peoples. In it, I mention that not all of my alters are trans.

It just feels... cringe. Like, I know that is probably certainly internalized ablism. But any time I discuss my own internal thought processes and the fact that there are just straight up other versions of me in there, I can't help but think I feel like one of those really awkwardly written teenagers in media who like... pretend to be possessed by demons and stuff. Part of it is also a little bit of fear.

That was... a bit of an oversimplification. It is rather difficult to go into detail, especially when the alter in question is the one who least likes talking about the experience of being plural.

While I don't talk about it with others, and will absolutely interrupt any attempts to map it out, I AM at least somewhat aware of how my system is shaped and who is in it. And that not everyone who used to be in it is still in there. There are versions of myself that are just... gone. And I know one of the things that results in that is too much internal reflection. So I just... don't.

Am I trans? I mean, Ceetee is, and I'm Ceetee, so probably. But I'm also the one who doesn't have that luxury. I'm the one who has to go to work. I'm the one who has to go by He/Him pronouns. I'm the one who answers when someone calls our deadname. And that is too important a part to risk losing to introspection, and the effect that has on us.

We are on HRT, the body we are in is going to change. We are looking forward to potentially going under the knife in the future. Lipofilly, vaginoplasty, etc. That's going to complicated things. I genuinely don't even know if I will still exist after that. I have plans on how to handle our social transition, that might make it smoother, but... again, I don't have the privilege of thinking on it too much.

Its... really difficult to write this out honestly. All of our discussion happens internally, thanks to us losing our amnesiac barrier a few years ago (thank God for that. Huge increase to our quality of life.) We would probably benefit from just making a discord server for just us, and using pluralkit or the like to talk with each other. But the idea of differentiating each other externally is HORRIFYING.

So instead, I'm the one handling our HRT. I have to, because he isn't willing to for the reasons mentioned above. And I can't even really discuss it well because he gets in the way a lot. Which I don't fault him for, it's his job, it's literally why he exists, and the several years I went with him not being involved socially were... extremely rough. I genuinely feel privileged to have him taking the brunt of all that for me. The nice thing about DID is it's actually a GREAT way to delegate tasks. If he represents the parts of us that don't have the privilege of changing, I can represent the parts of us that can.

But the truth is, all of us in here are undergoing an HRT we don't actually WANT. It gets us closer to a more comfortable body to live in, but it will never be possible to achieve a body ALL of us are happy with. We all have different gender goals, and as long as we are all stuck in the same body, there is no such thing as 'Gender affirmation'. That's why I use the label Aegogender. Looking it up, there is... not a lot of description of it. But for me, it has a very clear interaction with dissociative disorders.

I'm not genderless. Every single one of us in here has a gender. And they are not all the same. Which means our system cannot have a single gender. ANY transition will, by definition, go against the goals of others in the system. There is no way for all of us to be happy in this body, as long as we all have to share a single body. My "true" ideal body, would be an incorporeal hivemind piloting 3 or 4 bodies. Leaving us all connected to each other, but with our own individuality.

This is, obviously, NOT POSSIBLE. So HRT is the compromise.

Every single one of us is trans, even the one still going by He/Him and using our deadname. And so, just becoming something DIFFERENT is good enough for now. No solution has to be perfect forever. If we need to do something different in the future, we can just do something different in the future! We don't NEED to figure all of this out now.

I mentioned in the tags of my detransition post that I have a lot more complicated feelings about detransition. This is why. I fundamentally identify more with the concept of being a creature capable of change, than I do with any single gender.

Which means... once I transition, I'll almost certainly end up transitioning again. From what to what? I have NO IDEA. Will I end up detransitioning? Maybe. Will I end up pursuing some completely different presentation? Maybe. I dont know. I'm not that person yet.

I'm just gonna have to wait and see who manages to last that long, and what is best for all of us.

[kiisaes]

I haven’t read the BNHA manga since Deku had his emo arc and wdym Bakugou actually dies??? Like fr???? idc too much about spoilers honestly but I remember like two years ago everyone was talking about the jean heart was that also true

omg yes ok so

(SPOILERS which I now see is important even though this news is a year old and was very widespread) (so widespread that even my old roommate who does not care about mha knew about it)

1. bkg really did die, no it was not just some elaborate fandom prank, no the "is bkg alive yet" account isn't an inside joke. he literally has a hole in his chest where his heart would be and he's been dead on the ground ever since. he died particularly gayly though (thought real hard about deku upon death)

2. jean heart is probably not canon but best jeanist is involved in bkg's supposed recovery along with edgeshot, so naturally we thought, well, hes getting a jean heart then. a jeart, if u will. we have no idea if he's reviving btw

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane​

So I’ve seen a lot of meme’s recently basically saying how, of the Frye twins, Evie is the actual assassin and Jacob is the idiot, comic relief brother? And like, sure, Jacob can be a bit dense, but he’s still an assassin.

However, it did get me thinking about a plot idea that would start off really funny and kinda light-hearted that would dip briefly into angst before sky rocketing to happy endings for everyone.

So time-travel happens, of course, only Desmond isn’t alone. He wakes up with some british guy with him. And it isn’t Shaun. (Jacob, or course.)

Jacob, with the last thing he remembers being getting drunk with some rooks, thinks he’s dreaming himself in Renaissance Italy.

So Desmond of course plans to save the Auditore family, Jacob goes along with it because what else is he gonna do in his dream?

Because he thinks he’s dreaming, Jacob does act like a bit of an idiot. Desmond is sneaking around, quietly taking out guards while Uberto talks, planning on interrupting Uberto once the enemies have been thinned.

Jacob, walks right on up to the scaffolding, doing the whole ‘oh shut up’ bit before slicing Uberto’s throat right there, infront of a huge crowd.

Rodrigo gets a kukri thrown into the back of his head as he tries to flee.

Giovanni and Federico are both like 0o0.

Desmond is (－‸ლ)

Desmond and Jacob follow the Auditore to Monteriggioni.

Jacob, still thinking this is a long elaborate dream, flirts shamelessly with Federico, who is very confused but also…flattered?

At some point, Jacob falls into bed with Federico. And upon waking, realizes that…maybe this isn’t a dream? His bum kinda hurts, and he never wakes up still in the dream when it’s a sex dream…

Jacob freaking out, enacting the angst saga.

He goes to Desmond, because Desmond was there when Jacob woke up. So, he must have an idea whats going on? Surely he didn’t get to Italy from London while drunk??

And how has he been speaking italian?

Desmond’s response? Isu BS…Probably.

Jacob, realizing it’s not a dream, goes 'oh shit…I slept with a dude? for real? it’s not a dream anymore??’

Jacob acting really weird around Federico for a bit, unintentionally hurting Federico’s feelings.

Ezio gets involved, because Federico has been acting really sad, and Jacob is avoiding him now.

Desmond helps Ezio talk sense into Jacob, 'it’s ok to like dudes, Jacob. I like dudes too. And so does Ezio.’

And Ezio be like…'I do? oh. I do…’

Jacob reconciles his feelings and makes up with Federico.

HAPPILY EVER AFTER?? MAYBE?

(Bonus, clay being transported with them as well would add a lot of extra comedy, because he’s already a snarky asshole who has died and really doesn’t have time for this…and he would probably be best buds with Jacob and Federico, they’d definitely be the type to go clubbing together, and drag a reluctant Desmond along.)

Addition from teecup:

Adding Clay would mean that their dynamic would be something like this:

Between a man who thinks he’s dreaming and a man given the power to finally take control of his life and the life of others, Desmond’s chill personality may look like a heaven sent.

Perhaps you’d even have a scene where Clay just tells Desmond:

(Img src)

So when Ezio comes to Desmond asking for help with Jacob and they finally cornered Jacob who is having his bidisaster awakening, Desmond finally thinks “This is it. This is my punchline.”

AND he just outright states everybody else’s dirty laundry with a serene smile.

It starts nice.

Desmond: There’s nothing wrong with liking men, Jacob… I happen to like dudes too. And so does Leonardo.

Ezio: Wait, he does???

Desmond: And if Ezio just gets his head out of his ass, he’d see that he happens to like Leonardo too.

Ezio: Wait, I… do…? Oooohhhh…

Desmond: Not to mention, Giovanni and Lorenzo are definitely banging.

Ezio: What.

Desmond: And Cesare definitely got fucked by his second in command.

Ezio: What???

Desmond: And La Volpe and Mach-

Ezio: OKAY! That’s enough, Desmond! (covers Desmond’s mouth) What he means to say is that there is nothing wrong with being attracted to men. Right?

Desmond: (muffled sounds that Ezio swore is about his uncle)

Ezio: Right, Desmond!?

Desmond: ……… (nods)

[jessybarnes]

Something New

Ship - Cockles - Single!Jensen x Single!Misha

Rating - 18+ Only! Minors DNI!!

Tags - Sexuality struggles, First-time m/m sex, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming, oral (male receiving), mentions of coming out, mentions of not being accepted, anxiety, angst, fluff, smut, comfort, drinking, cursing, NSFW title banner, seriously if you're a minor go away!

Word Count - 3800 ish

Beta - Just Grammarly and Me

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

A/N - This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you enjoy. :)

Misha flirted a lot. Everyone knew this and accepted it as a part of his outgoing nature. Jensen, on the other hand, still hadn't grown accustomed to the lingering touches and longing stares from his best friend. It wasn't that it made him uncomfortable, no it was very much the opposite. 

He tried to ignore the way his heart sped up every time Misha's fingers grazed his skin or the way he held him when they would hug, but it was impossible. Jensen didn't want to admit it. He was supposed to be straight, find a nice woman, and give his Mother and Father the grandkids they wanted. Instead, he was having an internal battle with his mind on whether or not his male co-star was hot. 

Jensen sighed and rubbed at his temples lightly. Currently, he was reading over the newest script for one of the upcoming episodes. People probably thought that playing Dean should have come to him naturally by now since he played him on TV for the better part of thirteen years. Sometimes it was more complicated than just 'getting into character' though. 

Certain scenes, much like the one he was reading now, involved Cas and Dean staring into each other's eyes for a longer than normal period of time. That part didn't bother him as much. It was the stage direction that was written in the script. Of course, he didn't write the script or the stage directions so he didn't really have much of a say in how their characters did things. 

Jensen stared down at the off-white paper. His eyes re-reading the same bold print that menacingly stared back up at him. 

INT. THE BUNKER, DAY There's tension between Dean and Cas from a previous argument.  They eye fuck for approx. 30-45 seconds until Sam clears his throat to get their attention.

He swallowed thickly wishing the direction would change, probably for the umpteenth time now. 

Couldn't they have picked a better way to word this?

A sudden knock at his trailer door made him jump. He tossed the script onto his coffee table before walking across the room to unlock it. The familiar silhouette of Jared should have put his mind at ease, but he knew his best friend of so many years would notice something was bothering him. Deciding there was no point in avoiding the inevitable, he flung open the door to let him in. 

"Hey, Jare"

Jared walked up the two stairs into Jensen's trailer and plopped down on his sectional. 

"You're awfully quiet today, Jay. What's going on?"

Jensen sighed, running a hand across his face. Good thing he hadn't been to hair and makeup yet. He didn't wanna piss anyone off this early in the day. Grabbing two beers, he tossed one to Jared and sat down. 

"I don't really wanna talk about it. Not like there's anything anyone can do about it anyway."

He took a long pull of his beer while Jared studied him. He watched Jensen's eyes glance at the stapled packet of papers quickly before focusing on the view from the window. 

"It's something from today's shoot isn't it, Jay?"

Jared picked up the papers and leaned back against the couch. Jensen didn't try and stop him, but he didn't elaborate either. He just sat and watched as the taller Texan read over the page he'd been mulling over a few minutes ago. 

"I don't see anything wrong wi-"

Jared stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at Jensen. He scooted slightly closer and pointed to the middle of the page. 

"It's the 'eye fucking' part isn't it?"

Jensen looked away, picking at a loose string in the hem of his jeans. The beer bottle rested loosely against his lips as he took another swig.

"Jensen, you should really tell him, you know."

It was a miracle the beer didn't come out his nose. It took him a minute to stop choking and gain his breath back. A blush crept up the side of his neck as he looked down at his lap. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jared."

Once again the script was tossed carelessly on the coffee table. Jared scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

"Oh c'mon, Jay! You can't possibly think I believe you. I know how you feel about Mish, and I think you do, too. It's okay to admit that you got a thing for him, and frankly, I think you should talk to him about it. I mean look at it this way, how many times have we told fans that it's okay to be yourself. Love is love, and honestly, I think Misha feels the same way."

Jensen let out a defeated sigh. He should have known better. He and Jared can read each other like a book, and sometimes that wasn't necessarily a good thing. 

"I can't tell him, Jared. I'm not supposed to feel things like this for another man. My parents didn't bring me up this way. I'm just going to grin and bear it until we get through shooting this. I'm an actor. I can just push my feelings aside until this is all over with." 

Jared set his bottle down and repositioned himself so he was facing him. Jensen looked miserable. He was clearly stressing way too much over this. He was pale and dark circles lingered under his eyes from lack of sleep.

"Jay, that's bullshit and you know it! You can't control the way you feel for someone. It doesn't matter how your parents wanted you to turn out. What does matter is who you want to be. If the real you is attracted to both men and women, then so be it. If your Mom and Dad can't accept you for who you are, then they aren't taking your best interest to heart."

Jensen rested his head in his hands and shook his head. 

"Even if they miraculously accept the fact that I have a crush on Mish, how the hell am I going to tell him? I have no idea how I'll get the words out, let alone bring it up."

Jared stood up and walked toward the liquor cabinet. He pulled a bottle of Crown Royal from the top shelf and blew the dust off. 

“Sounds like you could use some stronger liquid courage.”

Now it was Jensen’s turn to scoff. He watched as Jared grabbed two glasses from one of the cabinets and put a couple cubes of ice in them. 

“I can’t shoot these scenes drunk off my ass Jared. Bob will have my head.”

If Jared heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he focused on pouring them each a glass. Handing one to Jensen, he sat back down and sipped at it slowly. After a minute of looking between his glass and his best friend, he sighed and licked his lips. 

“Ah, what the hell, why not? Gotta get through today’s shooting somehow.”

Forty-five minutes later everyone was on the Bunker set setting up for the next scene. The crew was getting the lighting perfected while the director, who just happened to be none other than Richard Speight Jr., conversed with Misha across the room. Jensen shifted his weight nervously and tried to look anywhere else. His eyes kept finding their way back to him though. 

Even though their characters wore layers upon layers of clothing, Jensen could still tell Misha had been working out. His thighs were well defined in the black slacks, how the tan fabric of Castiel’s trench coat hugged his biceps made his mouth water and the way his hair was tousled sent image after naughty image through his mind. 

Jensen bit his lip and looked away. There was no way he was surviving this scene. Misha had him hook, line, and sinker, and the way things were looking he was going to end up walking off the set before they had a usable take. Before he was able to dwell on it any longer, fingers snapped in his face bringing him back to reality. 

“Hellooo! Jensen? You okay man? We’re ready to start, but if you need a minute we-”

Jensen pushed past Rich and stood on his mark that was taped to the floor. 

“I’m good. Let’s get this over with.”

Misha studied him, his piercing cerulean eyes making him shiver. Jared walked around the table and sat in front of the open laptop. Things were eerily quiet between the three of them. Normally, they would be joking around until the moment action was called. 

Rich took a seat in the director's chair and looked through the camera one more time making sure the angle of the shot was right before turning his attention back to them. 

“Roll sound!”

One of the crew members came in with a slate board and held it in front of the camera. 

“Supernatural scene thirty-two, take one! Marker!”

Rich took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other. He knew this was an intense scene so he was mentally preparing himself to do more than one take. 

“Action!”

Misha walked around the table holding a tattered old book. Jensen eyed him furiously as he snatched it out of his hand. 

“Dammit Cas! I know we needed this book, but I told you not to do anything stupid!”

Misha tilted his head sideways, narrowing his eyes. The hand that was holding the book now rested rigidly at his side, his fingers curled into a fist. 

“Dean, this was probably our only chance for us to get this book! I took a chance and brought it back unharmed. I did it for you! You want to save your brother don’t you?”

Jensen slammed the book on the table a little too hard causing Jared to jump. It wasn’t in the script, but no one said anything so he continued with his line. 

“You could have waited for Sammy and me! We could have gone and got it together. Cas, you could have gotten yourself killed man! When are you gonna learn that you’re our family Cas? Family sticks together. Sammy needs you ... I need you. 

Misha stepped slightly closer to Jensen and lifted those ocean eyes up to his green ones. Jensen was shaking. Whether it was with rage or nervousness he didn’t know, but he had to finish this scene. He couldn’t do this more than once. His eyes flitted down to Misha’s mouth just as his tongue came out to wet his lips, and dammit if he didn’t feel his cock twitch. He couldn’t do this. He needed to get out of there. Just as he was about to storm off to the confines of his trailer, Jared cleared his throat. 

“Guys … get this! So, the writings in this book are apparently a dead language! There’s some sort of codex that requires piecing together, but I think I can crack it if I can just get past this encrypted file.”

“Cut!”

Rich stood up and rubbed his hands together. 

“That was great guys! Very well done with the dynamics. Oh! Nice touch with making Jared jump Jay. His face was priceless! I’m recommending that one for the gag reel.”

Jensen wasn’t listening. He was still staring at Misha, who was now taking off Cas’ tan coat. He watched as his back muscles flexed under his white button-up, and immediately felt his mouth go dry. He couldn’t stand in the same space as his co-star any longer. It was too much. Everyone watched as he took off towards his trailer. Anything was better than feeling this way in his opinion.

“Jensen? You sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little flushed. Hey! Jens- Where are you going? We gotta do another take. Jensen?!”

Once he was back behind his trailer door he immediately stripped off all his clothes and tossed them in a pile. Nothing sounded more appealing than a cold shower. He relished the feeling of the cool spray as it cascaded down his body. Jensen propped his arm against the shower wall and rested his head against it. He needed to figure out how to suppress his feelings because he didn’t think he could go through this every day. 

Ten minutes later he cut the water off and shoved the shower curtain back. Jensen shivered as water droplets clung to his skin. He wrapped one of his burgundy towels around his waist and padded back into his kitchen to grab another beer. 

“Hey Jens.”

He didn’t expect to hear another voice coming from his living room area, and he definitely didn’t expect it to be Misha’s. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around. 

“Jesus, Mish! What the hell?!”

Misha stood and walked across the room not stopping until he was mere inches from him. Jensen swallowed thickly looking down at the neck of the beer bottle to try and distract himself. 

“Why are you avoiding me, Jay? Jared says you’re not, but I can tell you are. You’ve barely said two words to me today other than when we filmed that scene. Even then, I could tell something was wrong. You rarely break character.”

Jensen shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Mish I … It’s not that simple. Y-You didn’t do anything wrong … I just … I can’t do this.”

Misha grabbed his arm before he could get away and pressed him against the wall. The way Jensen’s breath hitched didn’t go unnoticed by him, and that only confirmed his suspicions. 

“Can’t do what Jay?”

Jensen inhaled sharply, the smell of Misha’s cologne nearly making him moan.

“Wha - What are you doing?!”

Misha rested a hand on Jensen’s chest. The water droplets still lingered and he could feel the rapid beat of his heart against his palm. 

“Shh. Just relax Jay. Just let go.”

Jensen closed his eyes, shuddering under the warmth of his fingertips. 

“I - I don’t know what you’re ta-”

Before he could finish his sentence Misha’s lips were on his. For a split second, all Jensen could do was stand there. Eventually, he threw caution to the wind and began to kiss him back. His lips were pillow-soft and he tasted of spearmint. It was intoxicating, and it only made Jensen more dizzy with want. 

Misha tilted his head and licked at Jensen’s bottom lip requesting permission. He granted him access without hesitation groaning as he licked into his mouth. Misha’s knee pressed between his thigh forcing the towel around his waist to come loose. The friction against his dick along with Misha’s perfect lips kissing and licking along his pulse point became his undoing. Jensen wasted no more time contemplating whether he was making a big mistake or not. The hottest man he’d ever laid eyes on was bringing him pleasure he’d never felt before, and he intended on returning it tenfold. 

“Unngh M-Mish… fuck…”

A low growl came from Jensen’s throat as he maneuvered them toward the hallway. His towel lay forgotten on the floor, his hands finding refuge in Misha’s short dark locks. He tore at the slightly shorter man’s shirt trying desperately to remove it. Buttons littered the small space scattering in different directions when it wouldn’t come off fast enough. Misha chuckled and brought Jensen’s head down for another bruising kiss. 

“Wardrobe is gonna be pissed you know. That was one of Castiel’s only clean white shirts.”

Jensen worked at his belt and wasted no time in shoving Misha’s slacks down his legs. His mouth watered at the sight of his tented boxers, a noticeable wet spot becoming more prominent from his arousal. 

“Don’t care. Wardrobe can take it outta my pay. Need you too bad.”

Misha knew how reserved Jensen was, and the fact that he was unable to speak in full sentences and was on the verge of losing control was by far the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Slowly Misha sank to his knees and looked up at Jensen through his long lashes. He wetted his lips placing open-mouthed kisses on his thighs. Jensen whimpered shamelessly when Misha licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock. Before he could process what was happening, Misha took him deep into his mouth and didn’t stop until he hit the back of his throat. 

“F-Fuck! Christ, Misha... “ 

Misha couldn’t get enough of how Jensen tasted. It reminded him of sandalwood and old spice. He stripped off his boxers and began palming his cock, moaning at the way Jensen was coming undone by his mouth alone. 

“Fuck Jay, you taste so good. Wanna feel you cum baby. Wanna taste every last drop of that sweet nectar.”

Jensen was so close he could taste it. The heat coiled in his lower belly, and his hands instinctively came out to grasp the back of Misha’s head. His rhythmic thrusts soon became more erratic as the first waves of his orgasm washed over him. 

“Oh fuck! Mish I’m gonna… fuck I-I’m gon- ah!!!”

Jensen watched as Misha swallowed around him making sure not to miss a single drop. He stood, pressing his lean body against his, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw. 

“Such a good boy Jay. You taste so good too.”

Jensen’s breathing was ragged as he came down from his high. His eyes were closed and his cock was still rock hard. He was a goddamn goner. Never in his life had he come that hard, not until Misha anyway. 

Mere minutes later, Jensen was sprawled out on his bed. Misha was rooting around in his drawers for something, and soon he realized what it was. His eyes went wide at the small bottle of lube and the predatory look in his co-star’s eyes. 

“Mish, I… I’ve never…”

Misha silenced him with a sweet kiss on his lips. 

“I know baby, don’t worry okay? I’m gonna make sure you’re nice and prepared for me. Gonna make you feel so good, Jay. Can’t wait to hear those pretty moans you'll make just for me.”

The sound of the bottle cap opening filled the room and soon Misha was coating his fingers with the shiny liquid. He leaned his body over Jensen’s, resting his weight on one arm. The other slid between his bow legs finding his entrance with ease. Jensen sucked in a breath as Misha pressed one digit against his opening. 

“Shh, baby you gotta relax for me. Just breathe, Jay. Let me in and I’ll show you how good it feels.”

Jensen opened his eyes and was met with Misha’s lust-blown ones. He let out a shaky breath, and let his mouth fall open as Misha eased in his finger. He eased it in and out slowly creating a steady rhythm. It wasn’t painful, but it was definitely foreign. Soon Misha slid in another finger and curled them upwards searching out his prostate. He knew he’d found it when Jensen’s back arched off the bed and the prettiest moan he’d ever heard fell from his lips. 

“Mmmm, Jay… I wanna taste you. Get on all fours baby. Gonna show you how good it feels to be worshiped.”

Jensen flipped over on his belly and gripped his pillow. Misha hooked his fingertips into the place where his thighs met his hips and pulled him so his ass was presented to him nicely. 

“So beautiful... “

Misha placed a hand on each side of his ass and spread him open. Jensen dipped his head low and groaned when he felt the wetness of Misha’s tongue against his hole lapping at him repeatedly. He could feel the familiar heat in his core and began fisting his cock furiously. 

“Oh God… Mish! Please… p-please need to feel you…”

Misha pulled away, his chin glistening with saliva. He turned Jensen over so he was laying on his back again. He pushed two fingers back inside him and began to scissor him open gently. His mouth leaving love bites along Jensen’s inner thighs. 

“Gotta get you ready for me baby. Don’t wanna hurt you any more than necessary.”

Soon Misha was three fingers deep and Jensen was wantonly meeting every thrust. He could almost cum like this. Watching his best friend coming undone by his hands alone. It was almost too much. 

“Please f-fuck me… please! Need you. Fuck Misha please!”

Misha removed his fingers and slicked his cock up with lube. He once again leaned over Jensen and captured their lips in a heated kiss. He knew this would hurt, so he did his best to distract him from the pain. Pressing firmly against his tight hole, he sheathed himself inside him. Both of them moaned obscenely at the sensation, and Misha tried not to cum at the way Jensen’s muscles squeezed him deliciously. After a few seconds, he felt the Texan’s nails scrape bluntly against his chest. 

“Fuck me Mish… Wanna feel everything you’ve got.”

Misha growled and pulled out almost completely, before slamming back into him. Jensen threw his head back and gripped the sheets, not caring that his sinful moans filled his trailer. They built up a steady pace, and both were well aware that people walking by could tell what was going on. Soon Misha’s brutal thrusts became more sporadic. His forehead rested against Jensen’s as his cock pounded him, brushing against his prostate over and over again. 

“Fuck Mish, You’re gonna make me cum again… c’mon baby, fill me up. Wanna feel you cum inside me. Fuck baby, just like that...Oh, God!”

Misha swallowed his moans with a heated kiss. Jensen could feel his second orgasm of the day approaching as Misha continued to fuck into him. He began to stroke his cock feverishly, his ass tight around Misha’s dick as the first spurts of white coated his belly. 

“F-FUCK MISHA!!” 

Misha wasn’t far behind, filling him up, as he felt Jensen’s cum coat their chests. They stayed like that, breath heavy, and beads of sweat covering their bodies. Slowly Misha pulled out and grabbed the nearest article of clothing to clean them up. 

He climbed back on the bed and laid next to Jensen nuzzling into his neck. He felt the warmth of his arms snake around his torso and held him close. 

“Fuck, that was amazing..” Jensen purred. 

Misha peppered kisses along his pulse point and raked his nails lightly down his back. 

“You did so well for your first time, Jay. I’m so proud of you. Took me so well.” Misha said tiredly.

Jensen felt his breathing even out, and soon light snores fell from his lips. It was hard to believe how fast he was falling for this man, but he couldn’t wait to see where they’d take their newfound relationship. Whatever happened, he knew he would be along for the ride

[cloudninetonine]

buckle up, because shit's gonna be long af, as ferret!reader has been plaguing my mind even in classes, but also the writing is inconsistent because I've wrote both yesterday before going to sleep and today in my classes break.

also, didn't elaborate much on some of legend's one, but i totally could come up with at least three whole fics about it.

now this fungi 🍄 will go on with the content.

★

general, for the boys i couldn't elaborate much,

★ climbing the boys when shifted, if they wear various layers, like time and sky, getting under one of them to make the boys life even harder.

★ time especially would have a harder time getting you out of his armor, because of how clunky it is.

★ carrying minish four! maybe even playing chase and fighting not to drool all over him.

★ talking about minish, reader sharing their food with them, not even noticing what they did until wild asks where reader put all the snacks he gave them.

★ randomly biting the boys when feeling playful, especially wild, wind and hyrule who are more prone to take them on adventures

★ which takes me to: biting Time! he's there all serious planning the chain next moves and reader just want him to get more laid back for once... basically reader's body is moving before they can think.

★ normal ferrets hoard small items... reader as human is not small so.... yeah, try not to leave the things out of the bag for too long. yes captain, I'm looking at you and your long and vibrant scarf.

★ also... worsening eyesight or focus. reader just walking in the trails with the chain before they start wandering off to the sides, face plant into a tree or trip on something.

★ i believe time saw his whole life passing by his eyes when you almost ran into a cliff, after that he made sure you always walked between him and someone as trustworthy as himself, probably twi or warriors.

★ four and wind are not safe from the ocasional nip, as they are the smallest of the group and a worth hunt, per se. (also bunny legend!)

★ instant running whenever one of the boys go to them a little too fast, be it from fear or playfulness.

★ starting to like narrow places, reader just shoving themselves in any tree hole they find and chain having to find them.

★ ferrets are know to sleep at least 14 hours a day, and while i think that reader wouldn't get to that point because of the constant moving, any place for a nap, is a palce for a nap.

★  especially when it involves sky and his perfectly cuddly body. him and the cat experience, where he can't move as you're sleeping above him.

★ time just having exasperated mother energy whenever reader disappears, only to find them tucked away with one of the boys.

★ nightmares fuel for the ones who stand at night watch, since reader may start sleep talking or downright sit up, look at everyone and then get back to sleep.

★ warriors wondering from where the fuck all the fur clinging onto his clothes come from, and reader just brushing it off as some wild animal who walked into the camp.

puppy boy, twi,

★ twilight angry at reader for touching his necklace, until... bonding time, aka, "teaching" reader to hunt (is just the two fooling around and running after each other, really).

★ reader trying to wrestle twi, wolfie's form or not.

★ and failing miserably.

★ understanding one another when the instincts kick in a little too hard and they have to desperately hide it.

★ covering for one another at those times, and just using each other to get rid of it altogether, such as the bitings, hoarding, howling/dooking and all.

★ not noticing how the plan backfires and habits they had only when shifted starts to bleed through, and now everyone look at them suspiciously.

★ best boy carrying reader whenever they're in the dead asleep state, by shifting them and either carrying reader on his back as wolfie or getting reader in his fur coat.

★ twi acting like a worried mom whenever reader is gone for too long after shifting and he doesn't know what excuse to use with hyrule anymore.

★ but forgetting all about it when reader dooks at him kinda understanding how the others feel about wolfie.

★ just... grooming each other.

rulie, the pretty fairy boy,

★ the ferrets habits kicking reader harder by the day, and none of them having a clue about what to do, since they don't even know anything about the animal in question;

★ until in one of their calmer days reader just say they'll go for a nap since they're feeling a little tired, brushing off hyrule when he offers to check 'em up for any ailments;

★ nothing to worry, really, ur there all pretty and peachy sleeping soundly and safe... until you're not;

★ while hyrule goes to check up on you for dinner, you just... don't move, he taps you lightly, shakes you, try talking to you and even downright scream at you (which he would never do, if not for the awful circumstances);

★ nothing seems to work, and you're just there, limp and dead to the world (in their eyes at least), thus, chaos ensues;

★ hyrule's sobbing over your body (?), almost snarling at anyone who comes a little to close, he's already tried everything in his power to try to wake you up, even resorting to wild's cooking, wolfie's howling in the back as he's not allowed to approach, legend cursing under his breath about how it was a good riddance (excuse me, sir???), anyways, you get it;

★ and in the middle of all that mess, you just wake up, foggy mind trying to take in the messy vision before you and very much rid you of the bruising grip the traveller had you in, muttering something along the lines of "what's happening?", and they all just... stop;

★ turns out, in his panic attack hyrule forgot to even check if you were breathing;

★ you could feel that after that day, rulie's watchful gaze on you turned even stricter, not letting you get away from him for more than a 5 meters radius and not letting you touch anything he didn't recognize;

★ also... it's only after this incident that twi would be very serious about you reporting to him about any behaviour change you had after the first time you shifted;

★ and last one! reader getting overprotective about hyrule, fighting the urge to hiss at anyone who dared to badmouth the traveller, going as far as to get him away from the group as a whole to just nuzzle to him and "have him to yourself", and when not, just sleeping on his clothes and belongings like some sort of nest.

vet, our trash raccoon man,

★ if we're talking about player au where he's not fond of reader, i have some (many) sad news to him.

★ reader having to physically stop themselves from gripping at him and shaking him prove they are safe and trustworthy.

★ reader stealing many of legend items, especially the shiny ones. and forgetting about where they hid it right after.

★ if legend happened to be one of player!reader comfort characters, him just waking up to find reader nestled into him. panic.

★ legend trash talking reader, until they come up behind him and bite his nape, hard. he's not having any of that shit and is immediately throwing hands (as would i).

★ reader immediately running to twi when they see legend as a bunny, cue devious laugh.

★ shifted reader immediately running after bunny!legend, since he wouldn't know about your shifting yet.

★ him freaking out until he notices that you're not doing anything, and even letting him run away, or when you do get him, you just hold him without biting hard.

★ reader just dooking at legend while having him in your mouth, and he just.... lemme out bitch, no way i'm gonna die so pathetically.

★ i do think he'd notice that you're not a wild animal, but idk if he would notice that is you.

★ but when he does... oh boy, you better run, he's out for your head.

★

and that's all! also, search for ferrets dooking sounds if you never saw it, is the cutest thing ever! they even do a sort of sound like a breathy laugh or giggle when happy.

FUNGI I LOVED EVERY LAST BIT OF THIS, THIS WAS AMAZING!!!! OH AND PLAYER DOOKING ALL THE TIME IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT

[pochapal]

Bit of a weird ask, but you were throwing out the idea, so thought I'd ask:

If there is an author-like figure, what parts have they written? And what about them makes you think that?

this is an emerging idea i explore a lot more in the writeup (specifically in relation to what makes a "fantastical scene") but for now my thinking is that there's a series of layers to the way narration is constructed. like at the core layer you have battler who can only explore reality through his bodily senses, then you have the third person narration that is able to explore other people's interiority more than it does the physical world, then further than that there's the stuff that doesn't fit within these two strands of prose (stuff like chapter framings, chronology, the structure of the story itself etc - best example for this is probably chapter 9?)

as a whole the layers of narration aren't presented as being guided by an active agent (battler's narration is responsive, the third person narration is more introspective) but there are times when there's clearly something/someone maybe interfering with the story. an example here would be the scene at dinner where maria reads the letter and even though battler is right there bearing witness we are not told things through his perspective/voice (or anyone's really. something i kind of haven't mentioned yet is that there are times where the narration defaults to a really pared-down description of physical actions without much elaboration on thought/mood).

like. my going Rule is that when we start scraping up against the inner workings of the witch narrative for some reason someone interferes with the story's own presentation in order to keep up an air of obfuscation. i've spoken about this before but another example is the way that, in the chapters in between the first and second twilights there were a few instances of the narrative rather forcefully going "it wasn't worth thinking about any longer so everyone dropped the topic" vis a vis certain mysteries (what happened in the dining room, kinzo vanishing) that would, if given enough attention right now could possibly help you to unravel the truth faster than desired which in itself is telling because "faster than desired" very much implies the existence of one who desires this version of events to be meted out in a very specific way.

so like. if there is meta stuff going on in umineko i'm not sure of the rules of engagement. if we're talking homestuck epilogues style (my blueprint for understanding Everything) the closest analogy i could give is that they're functioning like how calliope did before The Reveal where she'd nudge characters' thoughts/feelings when it came to the handling of things she personally felt strongly about (the chapter with jane and the lollipop juju is a good example here) but was otherwise sitting back and letting things happen as "naturally" as it would given the temperaments and motivations of the people involved in the story. the active involvement of the author figure seems to come in, if it is, when the mystery itself is threatened.

it's weird because i don't think this narrator *wants* the mysteries on rokkenjima to go unsolved - the whole point of the story is a bunch of trojan horse mysteries designed to get you thinking about deeply buried truths that otherwise would never come to light - but it's more that they want it solved in the right way at the right time (by the right person? there's no reason to assume battler is the protagonist of this tale by accident...). i of course don't Know what we're pointing towards yet on a deeper level because this is only episode 1 but i imagine it's a more extreme metatextual version of the witch narrative (which serves at least in part as an exposure of the fascist rot underpinning the ushiromiya family alongside all the stuff about gold and killing and beatrice). maybe umineko's not really a story about a mystery and we're doing the mystery mode to "uncover" something hidden deep below the story's surface?? idk that's something i'll think about when i have more concrete information.

but to circle back around to the actual question, i think there's a kind of interloping narrative agent that may or may not be the one constructing the whole story as we see it but who does step in and interfere with with the flow of the narrative when it threatens to divert from whatever it is they hope to use the story for, which seems to somehow be related to the witch narrative and getting at truths which can only be exposed the deeper into the ritual we go. small writeup spoiler but i think this entity shows their hand quite a bit in kanon's death scene and i think we'll be seeing more of them the closer we get to beatrice's "revival" and the end of the epitaph. perhaps we'll see narration that starts contradicting the way these characters have been built up until now in order to keep everyone playing these roles until the last possible moment? something like that, maybe!

[excessive-vampires]

Dealing with Demons Chapter 16: Nothing So Small Part 3: Riley

Masterlist with CW

Taglist: @demyxdancer @softvampirewhump @d-cs

“What an odd little duo we have here. A woman who was possessed by a demon and a researcher from the Bright Bureau.”

Riley had fucked up. They had fucked up and let the fear in at the moment of truth and now everyone here was going to die. No no, there had to be some way to make this right. 

“Her, I understand.” Mason continued. “She knew that I needed her as part of my plan. But you, Agent…”

Riley found they could suddenly speak. “Bishop.” 

“Agent Bishop, I don’t see why your Bureau has been hunting me so persistently that even a noncombatant showed up.” 

“You hurt my team.” 

“No but before that. Why did you start coming after me? There was no way you could have connected me to the information theft after so long, so why?”

“You were kidnapping people.” 

“People who’ve sold their souls! They obviously don’t value their own existence, so why shouldn't I use them for my purposes?” 

Riley thought back to their similar statement to Coleman and felt sick to their stomach. 

“Agent Bishop, I’m going to tell you my plan. And then I’m going to give you a chance to walk out of here. Not until after I complete my objective, of course, I’m not stupid. But you don’t have to die.” 

Mason began pacing in front of Riley and gesturing elaborately as he continued to speak. 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the four major limitations of magic, Agent Bishop. Magic cannot bring back the dead once their soul has departed this plane, it cannot create life, it cannot alter the flow of time, and it cannot change a person’s thoughts, feelings, or memories of the past. Beyond that the only limitations are the knowledge and power of the caster. But how do we know that these are really limitations of magic and not just the limits of the caster? What if the only thing preventing magic from doing anything we want it to is the fact that humans have a limited amount of mana? Magic already works differently for demons, who, if they have consumed enough souls, can easily surpass the most powerful human casters with no training at all. If I’m right, and I believe I am, the most powerful demons should be able to do whatever they want, so why can’t they?

“I used to think that maybe no demon had ever gained the sheer amount of power necessary, but then I had a revelation. Demons are limited because they are incomplete beings. Each demon is made from only one emotion, but if you were to somehow combine one of each, you’d have a creature born out of the full spectrum of human desire, and I believe such a creature would be able to do anything. 

“This raises three problems. First, it would be unimaginably irresponsible to create an all-powerful demon and set it loose on the world. Second, how could the demons be effectively fused? And lastly, how could this be used to give more power to humans? Well, it turns out that the solution to all of these is the same. To find a way to reverse the process by which demons consume human souls. 

“That’s right, my soul is going to consume seven demons, and then I will have the power of a god. I will go down in history as the first of a new breed of caster, as the one who brought humanity to the doorstep of the divine!” 

“You’re insane,” Riley managed through huffed breaths as they tried desperately to move. “There’s no way this will work!”

“I’ve tested it! I’ve had eight years to perfect my ritual! Sure, the first couple of attempts were… messy, unfortunately for my followers. They’re all gone now, as are the demons involved in the earlier experiments. But now there’s only one more obstacle to overcome. You see, the human body just isn’t formatted correctly to hold more than one soul without, well, melting is probably the best word for it. In order to succeed I need a body that has been fundamentally changed in a way that allows it to contain demonic energy and the souls those demons have devoured. I thought I was going to have to invent a ritual to do that to myself but then, just like it’s supposed to, my summoning ritual found me the demon that best fits my needs. One with a body that I can use.” 

“You bastard!” Avi yelled from the rune. “She’s mine!” 

Mason turned towards the demon and his smile didn’t falter. “And soon, you all will be mine.” 

“It won’t work! Human bodies can only contain one demon at a time, no matter how you change them! All you’ll accomplish by trying is killing her!” 

“You’re lying.”

“No they’re not, you sick fuck!” a demon with blood red skin and a black dress yelled. 

“How hypocritical,” Mason scolded. “I’m not doing anything that y’all don’t.” 

“Deals require consent,” Avi shot back. “We do nothing to humans that they don’t knowingly agree to!” 

Riley strained against the force holding them still while Mason was distracted, everything above their neck had been freed up to allow them to talk, but the rest of their muscles might as well be encased in concrete. They looked over at Cee, who was still completely frozen, and couldn’t even move her eyes. If not for her breathing she could have been a statue. 

Wait. Breathing. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.” Mason said, turning back around. He grabbed Cee by the back of her shirt and dragged her over to a secondary circle attached to the section of the larger rune that Avi was in. This one was just painted on the floor in white paint, except for a few inches of silver where it touched the larger rune. “So kind of you to come back here so I didn’t have to waste time and mana bringing you to this place myself.” He dropped her in the middle of the white circle. Avi was cursing at the top of their lungs and hurling threats and insults at Mason who completely ignored them. The rest of the demons watched intently. The ones with humanoid faces looked scared. Mason turned back to face Riley. 

“Any questions?” 

“If you need her alive, then why blow up the Bureau base?” Riley asked, trying to delay him. 

“Scrying is my specialty, Agent Bishop. It’s how I was able to block myself from your artificers’ view and it’s how I was able to see the exact moment you and this woman left the building.”

Riley tried to think of something else to ask while they formulated a plan. “Why only demons? Wouldn’t you need angels too?” 

“Agent Bishop, do you know why you never hear about the seven heavenly virtues in religious discussion? It’s because they are defined by the sins they oppose. A virtue isn’t really a feeling, it’s the opposite of a certain feeling. A lack of desire. If I added angels to my plan then they would just cancel out the demons.”

Another question, anything. “What’s going to happen to the people who’ve sold their souls?”

“Their souls will be consumed by the demons shortly before the demons are consumed by me. I need them to start the chain reaction. But, as we both have said, they’ve sold their souls, it would have happened to them eventually anyway. Now, watch closely, Agent Bishop,” he said as he started walking towards the center of the silver rune. “You’re about to witness history.” 

Riley focussed on their breathing. That was movement. As long as the impulse started in their lungs they could move their chest. They breathed deeper, now they could move their whole torso. 

Mason wasn’t paying attention to them anymore, which was good. Instead he was chanting and drawing shapes in the air and the rune he was standing in was starting to glow, which was very, very bad.

Riley worked to feel the muscles moving in their chest, and to feel the connections between those muscles and their other muscles. And slowly, painfully, as though they were being crushed under an enormous weight, Riley moved. 

First they flipped over off of their back and onto their stomach, and then they started to crawl. With incredible persistence, they pulled themself forward, one centimeter at a time, towards the circle Cee was in. 

If they could scratch the paint connecting that circle to the larger rune then Mason wouldn’t be able to enact the ritual to completion, it’d be brought to a screeching halt prematurely. Which had a chance of leading to a magical explosion, killing them all, but Riley didn’t think any of them were getting out of there anyway whether the ritual succeeded or not, and at least Mason would fail and wouldn’t be able to try again. It was only a chance, but it was all Riley could do. 

Riley was soaked with sweat from exertion, making their bangs stick to their face and partially obscure their view. They were breathing heavily, but even that movement was starting to get difficult. Harsh heat emanated from the silver rune and Mason’s chanting was reaching a crescendo. They weren’t going to make it in time. 

They were within reach of the silver rune, but still too far from Avi’s section of it to reach the painted portion before Mason completed the ritual. 

Avi was looking at them, as they saw the realization dawn on Riley’s face they mouthed something. Riley thought it might have been “You tried your best.” 

Riley looked towards Cee, but she was facing away from them. They moved their eyes around to the other demons in the rune. Maximilian was rocking back and forth on the floor. The demon in the black dress was shaking with sobs. A person-shaped cloud of static that Riley recognized as a demon of sloth had its head in its hands. 

Riley wanted to grab their protection amulet for comfort but it was too much effort. If only there was some way to break the lines. Runes were finicky, one line out of place and the ritual would fail. Safely. And Mason probably wouldn’t have enough mana left to try again within twenty-four hours. But the grooves in the floor that the silver had been set into ran deep, and by now it was hot enough to be partially melted, Riley didn’t even know if they could get their hand close enough to touch it. 

Wait. 

The rune was melting. 

And it was made of silver.

With the very last of their strength Riley inched their arm up to their throat and curled their fingers around their amulet. They slowly pulled the silver circle over their head. They gripped it at the top, where the cord attached, and slid their hand over towards the rune. 

The heat was unbearable, Riley gritted their teeth and tried as hard as they could not to scream, not wanting to risk alerting Mason to what they were doing. Their fingers blistered but they kept moving their hand forward until the amulet touched the rune. Immediately the silver started to melt and created a neat line across the rune’s outer edge. 

Within seconds the heat was gone. Mason’s chanting stopped abruptly. 

“No! What’s gone wrong?! I made sure everything was perfect! I—”

Mason turned and saw Riley and the remains of the amulet. He screamed wordlessly. Riley laughed despite the pain. They knew they were about to die, but they had stopped Mason. He wouldn’t be able to set everything back up and try again before the joint task force got to him. 

They had stopped Mason. Not someone else, them. They had stepped up, and they didn’t fail. 

And that was enough. 

[e-wills-afterhours]

@hazel-sage

"Oh, good to see you back :) If it strikes inspiration in you, I'd love to see some shenanigans with our favorite gang of six at any age! Basically, I loved the snark in the one-shot of Hiccup losing the bet and getting the tattoo, and I'd love more of that banter :P"

A/N: I'm glad you actually find shenanigans as enjoyable to read as they are to write. Be careful, though. You wouldn't want to give me any crazy ideas, such as I might actually be funny and clever! We all know that's not true. XD

This is the closest to pure crack-fic I've written in...years. Really, I'm hoping to amuse you with this as I'm amusing myself by writing it.

The gang is 17-18ish here. RTTE is not canon in my writing.

Marital Un-Bliss

--------

All of Berk was gathered in the Mead Hall, dressed in their best furs and garments. Formal occasions were causes to show off and stand out, regardless if the day was meant to focus on someone, anyone else--like the young couple who had just exchanged their vows and bound their lives together before the entire tribe. Astrid did not know them well, as they were a few years her senior. The bride's name was Tora, and she was Mulch's niece. She was also partial to Deadly Nadders. Whereas the groom, Brigir, was Gustav Larson's second cousin, and he favored Thunderdrums. That was a much as Astrid really cared to know.

The ceremony was beautiful enough, against the backdrop of reds and oranges consuming the forests of Berk in the distance. There was a slight chill in the air, but beneath the extra layers of wedding finery, it was not unpleasant.

What really lifted the spirits was the feast that came after. Wedding festivities in their village lasted for days, as any proper Norse wedding should, with the attire growing less stifling and restrictive, until all pretense faded away by the end of the celebration.

But even the prospect of copious drink and frivolity could not spare Astrid one day of her friends' complaining.

"This sucks," Tuffnut grumbled, conspicuously adjusting the crotch of his best pants. He went right for it too, by the handful, tugging and palming at himself.

A few people glanced disapprovingly at him, too sober to pay him no mind. The barrels had not yet been cracked open. By nightfall, Tuffnut could probably streak through the Mead Hall with half the tribe failing to notice, and the other half wouldn't much care. But he did not need any ideas to get him going.

"Could you stop that, maybe?" Astrid hissed, slapping the elbow of his offending hand.

Tuffnut rolled his eyes. "It's simple anatomy, Astrid," he replied, matter-of-factly, pointed emphatically between his legs. "You see, for us guys, when the seam on your crotch is too tight, it really strangles the--"

"I'm going to strangle you, if you don't cut that out."

"Did you even try on your formal clothes before the wedding?" Fishleg asked. He was wearing snug long sleeves, which he often found constricting over his large arms, but he had the sense not to whine about it. "I mean, we only have to endure them a few times a year."

Astrid shook her head, answering for Tuffnut, "No, that would be too practical. Sensible, even."

"Now he's stuck with pants that are two sizes too small," Snotlout snickered.

"Kind of like your brain, huh?" Astrid retorted.

"Haha, yeah!" Snotlout chortled. He paused for a beat, brow furrowing darkly. "Wait. What?"

Astrid swept her braid back over her shoulder. "I rest my case."

Snotlout opened his mouth to fire back, but was mercifully interrupted by Hiccup, making his way toward them through the sea of bodies. It was quite easy for him, as everyone readily made a way for his dragon.

Astrid's heart skipped a beat when she saw him. He dressed so unassuming normally, and only donned elaborate leather garb when flying might be involved, which was admittedly often. Only on their most formal occasions did he wear the finest tunics with silver and gold embellishments. She had not seen him in furs since their younger days, when any such cloak might swallow him. The leather he wore for now the pageantry of it, like his belt or his bracers, were classic and dignified.

"Sorry! I got away as soon as I could," he said, with a wary glance back at his father, who was busy chatting up the newlyweds in high spirits.

"Hey! That's okay!" Astrid replied, giving him a quick hug that he gladly reciprocated. "You're here now." She turned to his dragon rubbed his snout, crooning, "Hey, Toothless."

Snotlout made a sour face. "Please, don't you two start. I'm all romanced-out enough as it is."

"Start what?" Hiccup asked.

Snotlout gestured at the two of them vaguely. "You know."

Astrid smirked. "Oh. You mean this?"

She grasped Hiccup by the fur cloak pinned around his shoulders, pulling him in until she could snag him in her arms, dipping him low as one might do to a swooning maiden. He let out an indignant squawk before she silenced any burgeoning protests with a deep, theatric kiss.

Some wandering children shrieked and giggled to see them, pointing shamelessly. A few more responded with "EWW!" before running off into the crowd.

Snotlout and Tuffnut made loud retching noises while Ruffnut cackled. While the two boys found public affection between Hiccup and Astrid nauseating, Ruffnut cheered them on with great amusement.

She wolf-whistled then shouted, "Yeaaah! Get it, get it!"

"Okay, you guys," Fishlegs muttered, casting anxious glances at people nearby.

The hypocrisy was not lost on Astrid. Only moments before, she had scolded Tuffnut for lacking decorum. Now the eyes of judgment were on her. But as long as she got to kiss Hiccup and make Snotlout uncomfortable, she couldn't care less.

People began to move away from them, seeking a healthy distance from the teens' shenanigans. It was for the best.

Astrid released Hiccup and grinned, pulling him back onto his feet.

"You could warn me next time," he said, a little red in the face, pointlessly smooth out his neat and tidy tunic.

"But then it's no fun," Astrid teased, gently hip-checking him.

He cracked a smile in return.

"I need a drink," Snotlout grumbled.

He turned and strode toward the barrels of mead, quite surly. The other teens followed him with no provocation, joining the line to receive their liquid merriment; it would undoubtedly be the first round of many.

They took their drinks to an open table, dodging their parents, Berk's many dragons, and the wayward wing or tail. Toothless cleared the path ahead of them, and no mead was spilled. A feat in and of itself.

"Skol!" they shouted in unison, clinking their mugs together before knocking them back for a long gulp.

One swig became several, and Berkian mugs were crafted to be deep, and the mead was strong. As the volume of the hall around them continued to rise, so did their speech, inversely of their inhibitions.

Snotlout, in particular, was cockier the more he drank, forgetting his limitations for the confidence of a nice, steady buzz. Perhaps that was why he thought it good fun to challenge Astrid to an arm-wrestling contest, though he had not beaten her since they were thirteen. Astrid all too eagerly accepted, as the other teens, apart from Hiccup, placed their wagers. Fishlegs bet chores and the Twins bet silver; Hiccup refused to make a bet, saying it was not sporting if he already knew the outcome.

Sure enough, Snotlout's arm was leaning and trembling beneath the pressure from Astrid. Further and further, it went. He pleaded aloud, his inevitable defeat playing out in almost slow motion.

"No...no...NO!" he cried.

His arm hit the table with a dull thud, and the other teens erupted into cheers or boos, depending on which side of the wager they fell. Hiccup caught their teetering mugs before mead spilled out across the table, Tuffnut and Ruffnut each handed Fishlegs a piece of hack silver.

"Have you ever challenged her?" Snotlout asked his cousin, rolling the shoulder strained by the match.

"Why would I do that?" Hiccup asked, as if the idea was as absurd as standing on his head.

"To assert..."

"My...dominance?"

Hiccup and Astrid shared a glance, then burst into laughter. Fishlegs and the twins joined in. Toothless regarded the teens as if they had all lost their minds. Snotlout just rounded his shoulders and sulked.

"Contrary to what it may seem, I do not seek out pain and suffering," Hiccup replied, reaching for his mug.

"Then why are you dating?" Snotlout fired back.

Hiccup ignored him, drowning any retort in mead, while Astrid flashed him the middle finger.

"They seem a great deal happier than you," Fishlegs pointed out.

"Yeah, a regular dicking will do that to a person," Ruffnut mused.

Hiccup choked on his drink mid-swig and had to turn away quickly to cough and sputter into his elbow. Astrid patted his back and his dragon watched with great concern.

"I can help you with that," Snotlout offered, wiggling his eyebrows at Ruffnut, paying no mind to his flustered cousin.

"Ew, no," she dead panned.

Snotlout gestured at himself as if to insinuate he was quite the specimen.

"First, you might need to figure out how to treat a lady," Fishlegs teased.

Ruffnut whipped around scowling and Fishlegs shrunk back.

"Who are you calling a lady?" she demanded.

"Oh, and you know how to do it right, then?" Snotlout asked, sneering.

"Sure, I do!" Fishlegs answered, a little pink in the cheeks.

"Your mother doesn't count."

"Okay! You know what?" Fishlegs snapped, puffing out his chest. He rose to his feet.

"Finally! A worth opponent!" Snotlout declared, cracking his knuckles. He slammed his arm down against the table, poised in the arm-wrestling stance. "Let's go!"

Fishlegs produced a stack of the dragon cards he had made himself, throwing them down onto the table. They were functional as a game, with damage and protection points based on the natural stats of the dragons painstakingly recorded on each card. They were as practical in a tabletop battle as they were educational. Much to his friends' chagrin.

Snotlout glanced down at them. "What the actual Hel?"

"I challenge you to a game of dragon-knowledge!"

"No, I'm not doing that!" Snotlout protested, pushing the stack of cards away in disgust.

"Oh, yes you are." Fishlegs retorted, sliding them back toward him.

"Get that nerd bait away from me."

"Snotlout--!"

The two of them began to bicker, shouting over one another simultaneously, to overtake the music and dull roar of conversation, as well as each other.

Astrid rubbed her temples, leaning over to whisper to her boyfriend, "Want to dance?"

"No," Hiccup replied. Then he took her hand, swinging his legs back over the bench. "But actually, yes."

They escaped the inanities of the other riders by weaving toward the center of the chamber that had been cleared for dancing. The long tables were pushed off to the sides and the back of the Mead Hall, while the firepit blazed on in the middle. Several couples were already leaping and swirling about to the fast and cheerful music, including the bride and groom. Silent Sven beat the drum furiously to the melody of the rebec and lyre: like the enthusiasm of a summer rain, coursing through every fiber and rushing in the blood. Free from distraction, one simply had to dance.

Hiccup gestured for Toothless to stay put on the periphery, and the dragon merely cocked his head at the dancers spinning and hopping in laps around the firepit.

Astrid placed one hand on Hiccup's shoulder as he drew her close by the small of her back. Her other hand was firmly settled in his. They took a second to count the beat, and they joined in at the next measure.

The Mead Hall turned into a blur of colors and faces as they skipped forward and back, as if on a track, in one large circle around the floor, following the other couples. Hiccup twirled her at the right intervals, and Astrid beamed. Her dress fanned out as she spun, only to hug her legs once more as she moved in close to him again. Her jewelry felt heavy as she bounced on her toes, but the clacking of the beads against her chest was oddly satisfying.

"For all your reluctance to dance, you're not half bad," she told Hiccup, when she saw him smiling too.

"I never said I couldn't dance. Only that I don't purposefully seek out pain and suffering," he laughed, spinning her again.

"Aw, babe. Don't worry. There's no way you can dance with two left feet, on account you only have the one."

Hiccup let out a "Ha!" and the song came to an end. All of the dancers and several of the crowd applauded the band for their contribution. Immediately, they struck up a new chord, and the next song began, as lively as the one before it.

Astrid felt a tap on her shoulder, and she almost jumped.

Tuffnut was standing right behind her hand outstretched.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

Hiccup gently pulled Astrid toward him with a frown, saying, "Yes, I do m--"

Tuffnut grasped her by her free hand and skipped off anyway, wrenching her out of her boyfriend's arms, leaving Hiccup standing there in empty-handed bewilderment.

"Here we go!" Tuffnut cried gleefully, guiding her along.

He at least had the sense to avoid placing his hands anywhere that would earn him a black eye. Then, Astrid heard Ruffnut call out, "Come on, string bean!"

She looked back to find the other girl leading a very reluctant Hiccup along after them. It became clear, however, that the twins were by no means intending any offense by their actions. They only ever meant chaos and hilarity. As Astrid settled into a cadence with her new dance partner, she just rolled her eyes and smiled. She saw that Hiccup came to the same realization. He was now dancing along with Ruffnut, with the two of them laughing at the absurdity of it.

Tuffnut whooped aloud as they pranced around the firepit, and Astrid echoed him. Several other calls and whistles responded from the observing crowd, as the drinks were now flowing freely.

When it came for time for Astrid to spin, she felt Tuffnut let go of her. As the world came back into focus and she found her footing, she was in familiar arms.

"Oh, hello," Hiccup said, holding her up against him.

Astrid looked to see that Ruffnut and Tuffnut were now partners, bouncing along like two shuffling Gronckles. She beamed from ear to ear.

The four of them continued to dance, switching up partners occasionally, until Astrid even danced with Ruffnut, leaving the boys to twirl each other around in overly dramatic fashion. Upon their third rotation around the floor, Fishlegs and Snotlout joined in. They announced their arrival, running into the fray with hands aloft, clapping loudly in time. The music played on, and Astrid suspected it was being looped for their benefit.

Forgoing partners completely, the six of them locked arms and hopped along to the beat in a chain. They had taken over, as they so often did; like the music was played just for them. Even the newlyweds cheered them on with great amusement. Astrid's face hurt from a persistent smile and breathless laughter. She could not recall another wedding she had enjoyed so thoroughly.

Gustav tried to link up with them at one point, but Snotlout held him at arm's length and mouthed, "Not you."

Astrid decided then she could tolerate the stifling formality of fancy clothes and the others' incessant whining; and all the decorum of thousand weddings if they could all be as memorable.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 14: Wolfbrother

If Robert Jordan can reuse chapter titles, I can reuse post images even if they make absolutely no sense in this current context! Anyway. Yadda yadda yadda, spoilers for the entirety of the series, blah blah blah, do not continue if you don't want that, something something something, by clicking Keep Reading you agree to agree with everything I say, hmm hmm hmm, all very standard and completely enforceable not that anyone could possibly object to those terms, let's get started!

So since I'm not in the groove, last time I forgot to do the chapter icon. This time I won't do that: the icon is wolf. This is probably not a surprise considering the chapter title. It certainly won't surprise anyone to learn that this is a Perrin chapter about Perrin doing Wolfbrother things. Last chapter involves even less surprises! It had an all-new icon, the Portal Stone. I refuse to believe any of you need me to elaborate on what it stands for or why it was used last time. Thank you!

“Gone?” Ingtar demanded of the air. “And my guards saw nothing. Nothing! They cannot just be gone!”

Rand's channeler madness is infectious, what with Ingtar trying to have a conversation with the sky. Then again, I'd wonder if I was going mad under these conditions myself: three dudes all gone, two of them incredibly conspicuous, horses missing with them, not a single track.

Mat shrugged. “I don’t know. Rand was. . . .” Perrin wanted to throw something at him, hit him, anything to stop him, but Ingtar and Uno were watching.

Perrin doesn't often get to be a bro to Rand (and frankly even fewer chances to be one to Mat), so it's always very sweet to see that he actually is very much best friends with the guy, even if Rand's acting stupid.

“Why would Hurin leave like that, in the middle of the night, without a word? He knows what we’re about. How am I to track this Shadow-spawned filth without him? I would give a thousand gold crowns for a pack of trail hounds. If I did not know better, I would say the Darkfriends managed this so they can slip east or west without me knowing. Peace, I don’t know if I do know better.”

Ingtar is pretty sure he knows the capabilities of the Darkfriends they're chasing since he let them in, but after this it's not unreasonable to doubt. And frankly, with Fain being Fain, he does not know better at all.

Serves me right for what I told Rand. I wish I could run.

Another reason nobody talks to anybody else in this story is that every time they do, everyone takes each other's advice in the worst way possible. Rand has literally run away from the timeline, which is one step less reasonable than trying to launch himself into orbit. I wouldn't talk to him after that either, I'd be worried my suggestion he should eat something be followed up by finding him with half his horse in his stomach and the other half not having had time to die yet.

His thoughts drifted, feeling for what must be out there, what was always out there in country where men were few or far between, feeling for his brothers. He did not like to think of them that way, but they were.

Really another big problem Jordan had in his Perrin plotting is that he stopped forcing the kid to escalate his power use the way that Rand and the Wondergirls had to. Like, this book he willingly talks to the books, next book he'll willingly run through T'A'R, and by the end of book six he's commanding an army of wolves... and then he just stagnates. He does get to run away from being a werewolf for the rest of Jordan's books, so Sanderson has to do an absolute rush job to make Perrin able to play at everyone else's power level.

It was a faint picture of a man dressed in clothes made of hides, with a long knife in his hand, but overlaid on the image, more central, was a shaggy wolf with one tooth longer than the rest, a steel tooth gleaming in the sunlight as the wolf led the pack in a desperate charge through deep snow toward the deer that would mean life instead of slow death by starvation, and the deer thrashing to run in powder to their bellies, and the sun glinting on the white until it hurt the eyes, and the wind howling down the passes, swirling the fine snow like mist, and. . . .

Weirdly, the first time I tried to copy this segment my computer decided that I clearly instead wanted to copy-paste a screengrab of a Discord conversation that hadn't been in the clipboard for some time.

We should not let my computer's clinical insanity distract us from appreciating how awesome Elyas's wolf name is (though "long in the tooth" meaning what it does, it feels a bit inadvertently mean).

It was not the image he had made, a young man with heavy shoulders and shaggy, brown curls, a young man with an axe at his belt, who others thought moved and thought slowly. That man was there, somewhere in the mind picture that came from the wolves, but stronger by far was a massive, wild bull with curved horns of shining metal, running through the night with the speed and exuberance of youth, curly-haired coat gleaming in the moonlight, flinging himself in among Whitecloaks on their horses, with the air crisp and cold and dark, and blood so red on the horns, and. . . . Young Bull.

Perrin's wolf name is better though, which is 50% why he hates it. The other half is the way it immortalizes his trauma, but boo hoo Perrin learn to love killing Whitecloaks now, you'll be better off in two books if you do.

The one time he had gone to the dungeon, with Egwene, the smell of Fain had made his hair stand on end; not even Trollocs smelled so foul. He had wanted to rip through the bars of the cell and tear the man apart, and finding that inside himself had frightened him more than Fain did. To mask Fain’s smell in his own mind, he added the scent of Trollocs before he howled aloud.

It is a damn shame you didn't kill him while you had the chance, Perrin.

Howled aloud. Those poor Borderlanders, horses, and also Mat I guess. They're worried about three dudes disappearing without a trace, some of them are probably convinced channeling was involved, and now one of the foreign hangers-on is howling.

Their fury infected him. His lips peeled back in a snarl, and he took a step, to join them, run with them in the hunt, in the killing. With an effort he broke the contact except for a thin sense that the wolves were there. He could have pointed to them across the intervening distance. He felt cold inside. I’m a man, not a wolf. Light help me, I am a man!

Dude is going crazier than the male channeler in the party is. Kind of a shame he didn't have a real madness arc like Rand's; maybe Jordan kinda planned on it but ditched it for various reasons including redundancy?

“I have heard of things like this,” Ingtar said slowly, after a moment. “Rumors. There was a Warder, a man called Elyas Machera, who some said could talk to wolves. He disappeared years ago.”

That's hella convenient. You'd think they'd try to hush up Machera's disappearance as much as possible. Who told?

A few of them looked skeptical—Masema went so far as to spit—but Uno nodded thoughtfully, and that was enough for most. Mat was the hardest to convince. “A sniffer! You? You’re going to track murderers by smell? Perrin, you are as crazy as Rand. I am the only sane one left from Emond’s Field, with Egwene and Nynaeve trotting off to Tar Valon to become—”

I mean, Masema and Mat aren't technically wrong in that Perrin's feeding everyone some bullshit, but really I would like Mat to look at the man whose side he's sharing and pick literally any other side. Also don't be mean about the gals.

Vultures flapping, their white wings stained red; bloody, featherless heads tearing and gorging. He broke loose before his stomach emptied itself.

I always picture vultures as desert birds thanks to cartoons and stuff but I just looked it up and apparently they like used to be in France and whatnot. Never woulda guessed. Sadly their modern range in the Old World is a little diminished, but I guess they did pretty well for themselves between the nuclear apocalypse and the magical apocalypse. Good for them!

Mat turned his horse eagerly. “Maybe it’s Rand. I knew he wouldn’t run out on me.”

Cauthor shippers resurrected after their brutal demises last chapter. Also it's great that Mat knows that even after their pissy fights with each other they're still friends.

“Moiraine Sedai sent me, Lord Ingtar,” Verin announced with a satisfied smile. “She thought you might need me...”

Well obviously this statement is 100% true and certainly not a bald-faced lie. Even if we wanted to pretend that for some reason Moiraine didn't immediately induct Verin into her inner circle off-screen, Verin has every reason to think that Moiraine sent her. Remember this little bit from Chapter 7?

“Then we must find the dagger, Sister. Agelmar is sending men to hunt those who took the Horn and slew his oathmen, the same who took the dagger. If one is found, the other will be.”

We must find the dagger. By "we", it's obvious Moiraine meant the three women in the room at that moment and not the good guys as a general concept like most people would mean in casual conversation. Further, "must" was definitely being used in the sense of "this is an order that you must obey" and not just "it is imperative that this be done". Literally any other interpretation of this sentence is crazy talk, because Verin is obviously bound by the Three Oaths as a good guy and it's how she interpreted it, and definitely not to further her own ends by twisting someone else's words to the breaking point. Once she saw that neither Moiraine nor Siuan were in any hurry to recover the dagger and the horn, she was morally obligated to do so as the only other party of the "we" Moiraine so obviously meant.

Obviously. She is not suspicious at all, @checkoutmybookshelf.

“The Ogier, Lord Ingtar? And your sniffer went with him? What would those two have in common with . . . ?” Ingtar gaped at her, and she snorted. “Did you think you could keep something like that secret?” She snorted again. “Sniffers. Vanished, you say?”

“A new sniffer, just when you lose your old one. How . . . providential. You found no tracks? No, of course not. You said no trace. Odd. Last night.”

Verin is absolutely the best kind of Aes Sedai just for stuff like this, by the way. "Yes I know all about your dumb secrets and no obviously I'm not going to try and arrest the man, I'm not even going to try to arrest the Dragon Re-- I mean, tell me about Perrin. That's a crazy coincidence, isn't it?" Verin's not allowed to spend too much time onscreen because if she could she'd have had everything solved in three books.

They started off in a jingle of harness and armor, Verin riding close beside Ingtar and questioning him closely, but too low to be overheard. She gave Perrin a look when he tried to maintain his place, and he fell back. “It’s Rand she’s after,” Mat murmured, “not the Horn.”

Seriously, the only mistake she's made so far is letting Mat and Perrin get suspicious of her, but even then she's got them obeying her so she's doing just fine. They're not even the wrong kind of suspicious.

Perrin nodded. Wherever you’ve gotten to, Rand, stay there. It’s safer than here.

"Dramatic irony exploits the device of giving the spectator an item of information that at least one of the characters in the narrative is unaware of (at least consciously), thus placing the spectator a step ahead of at least one of the characters. Connop Thirlwall in his 1833 article On the Irony of Sophocles originally highlighted the role of irony in drama.[25][26] The Oxford English Dictionary defines dramatic irony as:[12]

the incongruity created when the (tragic) significance of a character's speech or actions is revealed to the audience but unknown to the character concerned; the literary device so used, orig. in Greek tragedy."

I left the now-useless footnotes in so it would be very obvious who I was quoting, thus exempting me from having to source them properly. Alas, this has attracted the attention of the University of Chicago Press Enforcement Bureau, so I must bid you all adieu until the heat blows over.

[i-am-beckyu]

rahhh i'm glad you're doing well and i hope works gets a little slower soon 🤍 also YUMMYYY thank you for the snippet i LOVE IT i'm genuinely so excited for it :DDD BECKYU CONTENTTT!!!!!! :3

and about serenityyyy i'll see what i can get! i've kind of been all around with my plot for serenity lately but it's slowly getting planned out (i've planned chapters 1-14 so far!)

i guess all i really need is a Spot for him cause techno's got his role, so does wilbur and ranboo and everyone else but so far i've just been stuck on using phil as a distant familial connection to tommy :v if i could i would want to try and get him involved with the other realms too, idrk :v

i also just did see that there's a #serenity split tag on your blog with some info,,, i'm not really sure what's lost on discord sjdnf

— brick

Lol I'm glad your excited. (I spent like 4 hours working on this fic last night and am very VERY pleased with how it's going. I def needed to write something new after so much focus on other wips :3) And yeaaaaaah works just gonna be busy because of the holidays and such. Schools work differently in Australia so the long 6 week break starts next week and everyone wants there cars fixed :|

And oh my goodness I am so glad for my excessive need to categorise stuff with tags because the serenity split tag has been so good rereading all the info you've shared!

So I know you've been working on the plot but this is my suggestion based on what I found on the tag.

Phil is the one that found Tommy in an alley way. The man is literally the reason Tommy builds a relationship with first before being brought home to his residents and adopted. Phil basically saw this child and said: Is anyone going to adopt him? And did.

Now at the time, Tommy was still just a child so he basically took on the responsibility to raise Tommy. And even though it was strange how mature this child was, to Phil, Tommy was still just a boy and raised him as his own. He watched how he changed and grew.

Now we skip to the present and obviously Tommy's getting all his ingredients so he's probably distancing himself which Phil picks up on. He puts it down to Tommy maturing and wanting his own space so he does his best not pry. He thinks back to how Tommy once said that he wasn't actually from this world and was on a mission- but he put that down to an over active imagination.

Basically Phil is your "trying to be a good dad and looking out for his adopted son" father figure.

It would all come to head most likely when he discovers who Tommy really is and then would learn more about his realm and stuff.

I think Phil being mortal in this would work well but if given the opportunity, he might meet Lady death through Tommy and become smitten with her. You wouldn't have to elaborate on them too much from there but could def hint at Kristin being interested in him and that suddenly Phil is seeing some mysterious woman.

That would be my take on it and I think would be best.

If you wanted another route tho, I suggest since Lady Life did guide Tommy to the mortal realm, she could of spoken to her sister Lady death that she was worried about his safety and Death literally sends her best angel (AKA Phil whos been in the mortal realms for a while doing other things -no idea what tho) to find and look after tommy. But that would alter the first idea cause then he would know about the other realms and stuff. Up to you but that's what I can think of.

Concerned/Supportive father trope lol

Hope that helps <3