#melanie needs her tunes

[ray-green-wicked4good]

Layton: Hey, what are you doing on the floor?

Melanie: I'm depressed.

Layton: Oh.

Melanie: Also, I was stabbed. Could you call Javi please?

Layton: Holy shit! What the--why would you want me to call Javi instead of Ben or, oh I don't know, Pelton?!

Melanie: Javi still has Despacito on his iPod.

[anantaru]

what would your favs do in a modern au? and another really important question: who would they listen to?

cw. none, different tropes, gn! reader

a/n. nonnie I'm not sure what you meant with the 'who would they listen to' so i thought you may mean songs they like ??

heizou the private investigator, who has his own agency but prefers to work underground— he has a soft-spot for helping people in need and doesn‘t charge money for it. whilst, the local police knows of him and always hires him for quite dangerous, complicated investigations if they were to fail to do their own deep examinations on the mission at hand. heizou is vastly proud of his profession and his skills are one of a kind, for some he might appear to act relatively arrogant but it's not that at all if you dare to look at it closely, he's confident in his abilities if anything and treasures his own well-groomed skills the most. fun fact: currently, alongside the police, heizou was investigating the mafia whose members certainly are known to you.

heizou's favorite music of choice: french music (i'm biased okay leave me alone) for example demain by PLK or derniere danse by indila.

scaramouche the mafia hitman, who too— prefers to work underground to escape any awkward encounters with people. he exceedingly loathes conversations, they make his blood boil, peculiarly with his peers and would rather gauge his own eyes out than attend any special meetings. although as such, his work was in a class by itself, as perfect as someone can be, the higher ups know that he was not dispensable in any way and a real treasure within their ranks. in scaramouche's eyes, there was nothing he cannot do nor was anything off limits, if there was a mission to be accomplished, he will take the challenge without batting an eye.

scaramouche's favorite music of choice: mitski or melanie martinez (he doesn't admit it tho) <3

alhaitham the library overseer at your university who never talks to anyone, kind of a weirdo, yet he cannot possibly do so anyways since most of the times he greatly engages in yet another spellbinding book. for him, it's the perfect job; listen— he never needs to work overtime, duh, he's always home by the same, exact time and although some students can be quite loud and jarring to be around with, the library was a place of pure silence, which he greatly relishes in. but be cautious, if you dare to even raise a single octave of your voice, he will shoot you a death glare and wow, what a terrifying and overly handsome sight at once, you already know that many students only go to the library to admire the hidden view.

alhaitham's favorite music of choice: the man not only uses his headphones for music, but to block out outside noises which works just wonderfully. he prefers slower tunes, ones that do not disturb his reading. for example, ludovico einaudi or johann sebastian bach.

yelan the infamous casino manager, who makes her peers shiver in both sharp fear and terror. if she wants you to win, you will, otherwise she'll do what she does best, manipulate the game to her own benefits to slowly enchant you with her intense charms you simply cannot get enough of, only for you to slowly, agonizingly slow, slant down into the pits of literal hell and large debts. the pretty, dazzling woman has a business to run after all, you cannot be mad at her for that. yet, she is also reasonable and makes sure she isn't tainting the precious, not to mention flawless image of her casino.

yelan's favorite music of choice: no tears left to cry by ariana grande and diamonds by queen riri

dottore the mafia doctor, who works alongside scaramouche and has stitched countless of his wounds in the past. although the two of them absolutely loathe each other, no one can deny the outstanding skills dottore would display on a daily basis. whether it's open wounds, deep, dark bruises or broken bones, there was nothing he cannot heal. notwithstanding the fact that his practices might seem unethical to the outside perspective— especially if you take his habits of experimenting on his patients into consideration, yet, as long as he sews and bastes together the injured, his boss simply does not care and aids him in whatever he might be in need of.

dottere's favorite music of choice: torture sounds /for legal reasons this is a joke, or classical tunes for example the four seasons by vivaldi while he conducts his experiments on some patients he has.

kazuha the lifestyle blogger who takes you with him on every new adventure taken. his youtube channel had blown up since and had become one of the top on the entire platform. his posting schedule is all over the place though, he can go without uploading a new video in months which his subscribers do not mind, kazuha was a free spirit who goes with his own personal vibe, if he was in the mood to film something from his exciting adventures he'll do just that. expect loads of selfies with different animals from all around the world on his other social media, (ignore the weed in his hand) beautiful locations and deep talks on livestreams late at night.

kazuha's favorite music of choice: everything by tame impala, he also likes listening to indie artists and support them on his channel.

venti the worldwide music star who sells out every tour he does. the man was envied by the ones who shared his profession while utterly loved by the countless amount of fans he has. his voice acts like a charm, it's sharply mesmerizing and soothing to the ears, in some ways does it appear as if he's wholly hypnotizing the audience with his tunes. another fact, he writes all his songs himself and gets praised from every direction possible, while if you take everything into consideration of his life, venti was still very much humble and loved interacting with his fans or do interviews so they can get to know him better.

venti's favorite music of choice: loads of kpop music, for example stray kids or txt, but he does have a soft spot for classical music whenever he composes his own.

kaveh the architect who gets booked by the biggest, most flashing celebrities on the planet. fun fact, he was the one who constructed venti's mansion, since the latter only wanted the best of the best— while, quite frankly, there isn't anyone better than kaveh himself who could've adapted to venti's wished and made his home all the more personal and extravagant. in spite of the fact that he gets paid loads of money for his work, the sweet, talented architect tends to find himself broke almost all the time in his life. thankfully he had made a special friend whilst going out in town to drink a couple of his favorite beverages, here's to note that he never thought he'd become friends with a certain librarian.

kaveh's favorite music of choice: he likes taylor swift, ariana grande and tends to listen to music that is older, yet quite underrated. kaveh claims that the tracks on certain albums that get the least attention, are the best in his eyes.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[witchwyfe]

not the only one - jhs

I pairing: college jake ‘hangman’ seresin x female reader

I précis: jake’s turn getting drunk and pining + a little backstory and info for him :)

I content/warnings: college au, roommates to lovers (that haven’t gotten past the roommates stage yet), mentions of alchohol, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being drunk

I word count: 1,066

I a/n: part of the roommate predicament !!!!

“Man, can you just help me get him into the car?” 

“I swear to god Jake, if you puke in my bronco…”

“He’s not going to!” Javy hisses, hoping he’s right. “Just help me get him in.”

Bradley sighs, running a hand over his face. “Fine. Jake, c’mere bud.”

Jake doesn’t respond, too busy singing to himself under his breath. 

“Hey lover boy!” Bradley calls, cutting off the drunken tune of My Girl. “We’re going home.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow as he looks up at his friends. “What?”

“Jesus,”

“Time to go home Jake.” Javy says, looking at him. “Get in the car.”

Jake hangs his head and does as Javy says. Javy reaches across him to buckle his seatbelt, ignoring Jake’s complaints and swatting hands. 

Once everyone is in the car, Bradley starts it up and slowly backs out of the parking spot. “You wanna go home or am I dropping you at Javy’s?” He wonders.

“Home.” Jake says. “Is ____ there?”

“I don’t know man.” Bradley shrugs, shooting a look at Javy. 

"I'll ask her." Jake announces, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

You receive a less-than-decipherable text from Jake a couple minutes later, and then a handful of heart emojis.

You call him and he answers eagerly, thumb swiping the answer button before he holds the phone to his ear. 

"Hey darlin'!" He greets loudly, not noticing the way Bradley and Javy wince.

"Hi Jake." You say cheerfully. "What's up?"

"I'm in the car." He states. "But I'm not driving."

"Oh good," You say, biting back a laugh. "Do you need something or...?"

"Are you at home?"

"Yeah." You say slowly.

"We'll take you there." Bradley says, ignoring the smack Javy delivers to his arm.

"We can't take him home right now," Javy hisses. "He can't be alone with her right now. He's too drunk he'll tell her he's in love with her in two seconds."

"And that's exactly why we should take him!" Bradley argues. "He needs to tell her at some point or he's just gonna be pining for the rest of his life." Bradley who spent too long overthinking his own decisions, and doesn’t want Jake to make the same mistakes that he did. Bradley who’s known Jake since freshman year, where they met during a fraternity rush before they both realized that neither of them like being told what to do by a senior on a power trip. Bradley, who see’s Jake as one of his best friends, and wants Jake to be happy. 

"He's not ready." Javy says firmly. "Just because you told Melanie you liked her after too many beers and--"

"--yeah and look at us now! It worked out pretty well!"

"He's not ready." Javy repeats. "He told me he wants it to be the right moment." Javy, who’s known Jake almost his whole life, when Jake’s family moved into the house next door to Javy’s grandmother. Two boys who discovered each other one summer when Javy came to stay with his grandma, and spent every day together running through the Seresin’s sprinkler. Javy has known Jake longer, so he thinks he knows him better, but he still wants what’s best for him. 

"He's just telling you that because he's too scared. It's a way for him to put it off."

Both men sigh, not even realizing that Jake has hung up the phone until he clears his throat.

"Can y'all stop fighting about my love life and just let me suffer?" Jake groans. "My phone died." He pouts. "I was still talking to her."

"Sorry bud." Bradley grins. "We'll take you home and you can see her soon."

"No, you're gonna stay at my place tonight." Javy cuts in. "We'll see ____ tomorrow, you can even bring her coffee."

“No, we’re gonna—“

“Stop.” Jake whines, head drooping against his seatbelt. “I want to go home and sleep in m’bed.” He hums. 

“Fine.” Javy sighs. “But we’re walking you up.”

Less than ten minutes later, Bradley’s pulling his car into a guest parking spot, before he and Javy help Jake out of the car.

“M’fine.” He pouts like a petulant child. “I can walk!”

Javy backs off a bit, but is still right by his side, with Bradley close behind. 

You’re on the couch in your pajamas when they unlock the door, pausing your show and flinging your blanket off your lap. You beeline for Jake, inspecting his face.

“Hey sweet thing.” He drawls, accent a little sloppier than normal. “Missed ya.”

“Missed you too Jake.” You murmur sweetly. “You okay?”

He nods, head wobbling a little bit.

“He’s had a lot to drink.” Javy cuts in. “We should probably get him to bed.”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, stepping back. “I’ll grab him some water.”

You take your time walking to the kitchen and filling a water bottle with ice and water. The last time you gave Jake an open cup while he was drunk, he spilled it all over himself. You wait until Javy and Bradley are exiting the room. 

“Let me give him this then I’ll walk you two out.” You acknowledge them before going into Jake’s room.

“Hey Jake.” You smile. “I got you some water. How about you drink some?”

He lifts his head of the pillow and opens his mouth. You bite back a giggle before popping the straw on the water bottle and connecting it to his lips. He chugs some water quietly, before pulling back and wiping the back of his mouth. 

You lean over to take the water bottle and set it on his nightstand, when he laughs a little.

“You’re so pretty.” He tells you. “Like it doesn’t even seem real, you’re just so pretty.”

Ignoring the way your cheeks flame, and your heartbeat kicks up, you bend down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you Jake. Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night,” He murmurs, pink rising on his cheeks.

Bradley and Javy spring away from the door as soon as they hear your footsteps on the floor. It’s hard for them to knock their matching grins, so they keep their heads down and wish you a goodnight as you let them out the front door.

And you go back to the couch and your show, but your mind is stuck on the boy sleeping in the room over.

© witchwyfe 2023. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[toasttt11]

nervous

"You don't have to do that." "You look like you need a hug."

She walked through the hotel seeing the relieved faces of Melanie and Jim, “What’s wrong?” Melanie had called her that Connor was upset.

“Think he’s more nervous that he thought he was gonna be.” Jim explained and nodded towards the bathroom where Connor was.

She nodded and walked over gently opening the door seeing Connor’s shirt completely unbutton and his hair messy as he sat on the toliet seat.

“You look like you need a hug my love.” Her voice was soft and broke Connor out of his trance and he looked up at her and could feel some tension bleed from shoulders.

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug letting him rest his head on her stomach as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, “Why are you so anxious my love?”

“What if i don’t go first? Or i’m not the player that everyone keeps saying i am.” Connor rambled out having been in his head all morning.

She frowned in concerned and gently lifted his head up so she could look into his eyes, “Oh my love, it doesn’t matter if you go first or last everyone will still be proud of you, i will be proud of you. And you Connor are an amazing player okay, you’re gonna be better than anyone knows.” She sent him a soft smile gently rubbing his cheekbone feeling him relax.

“Thank you.” Connor sent his girlfriend’s smile and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“Now let’s get you ready.” She smiled and pulled away grabbing his brush and some of his soft gel and tuned back towards him and started fixing his hair as his hands rested on her waist.

“You look beautiful.” Connor spoke up loving her long blue dress that matched his suit perfectly.

Her cheeks grew red, “Thank you.” She gave him a shy smile still not use to all the compliments he gave her.

“There your hair is perfect.” She proudly smiled before motioning for him to stand up, and she started buttoning his shirt for him.

"You don't have to do that." Connor soflty smiled admiring her and grateful to have her in his life.

“No i don’t, but i want to.” She responded and finished buttoning his shirt letting him tuck it in as she grabbed his tie, she wrapped it around his neck and tied it perfect having done his tie many many times before.

“And now you are perfect.” She proudly smiled at her boyfriend.

Connor smiled leaning down and kissing her softly.

[bratzydollz]

"Ivanka's Grand Unveiling: Who is Ivanka? 💋✨ #IvankasReveal #IvankaHasThe411"

January 10th, 2024.

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•—✧✷ Well, well, well, Upper East Shifters! The prodigal blogger has returned! Cue the applause, the confetti, and, of course, the eye rolls. Yes, my fellow shifters and followers, it's moi—Ivanka. I've been MIA for what feels like a century, and in the midst of my Instagram-worthy life drama, I've managed to gain a few followers. Not that they care, but hey, who needs a lame and basic introduction when you're living the chaotic dream?

Round of applause for my stellar disappearing act! Bravo, Ivanka. But enough about that. Let's dive into the grand reintroduction because, let's face it, you've been deprived. What can I say? Life's been a rollercoaster, with more twists and turns than a binge-(un)worthy season finale of Riverdale. But fear not, for the gossip and glam are back, and I'm about to spill the tea on yours truly. Ready or not, here comes the multidimensional Ivanka comeback!

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✧ About me, Xoxo.

—✧✷ Greetings, cyber citizens! I'm your digital deity, Ivanka Beeyuh, reigning over the online realm. Real identity? Baby, that's a closely guarded secret. She/they pronouns are my melody, and proudly transcribing my existence as a fabulous transgender woman. Virgo vibes and INFP musings – at the ripe age of 19, I'm navigating the academic jungle with a major in Business Administration. Because, let's be real, who doesn't love a business-savvy queen?

Oh, and here's a little nugget of trivia to spice up the Ivanka saga—I'm rocking the Klinefelter Syndrome, making me a naturally sculpted divine doll. HRT process? A breeze, honey. Feeling blessed, and this goddess is ready to conquer the digital cosmos. Buckle up, buttercups! 🌟💻 #IvankaBeeyuh #OnlineRoyalty

—✧✷ Listen up, trendsetters and multiverse explorers! Ivanka Beeyuh, your guide through the virtual wonderland, is spilling the tea on her current obsessions. Since the mystical year of 2020, shifting has been my jam – and yes, girlies, I've successfully made the leap! Yay for alternate realities!

Now, let's talk beauty—natural vibes with a splash of bold Latina and Thai makeup, because who says you can't slay in multiple cultures? Embracing the magic of witchcraft, I'm your modern-day enchantress. Need some data entry wizardry? Count me in. And of course, strutting the cyber catwalk, because fashion is life.

But wait, there's more! Yours truly is also a subliminal sorcerer, crafting unseen spells for your subconscious. I've got a stash of creations waiting to dazzle, and when they hit the digital airwaves, you'll be the first to know. Stay tuned, my cyber comrades! 🌐💄🔮

—✧✷ Hold onto your broomsticks, spellbinders! Ivanka Beeyuh here, spilling the enchanted tea about my bewitching side. Yes, luvly, I'm not just interested in witchcraft—I am a full-fledged chaos-type witch, and I'm here to own it. No rulebook, no limitations—I dance to the rhythm of my own magical beat.

Quick disclaimer: I'm not your run-of-the-mill chaos magick witch. Let's get one thing straight – my craft is a constantly evolving masterpiece, not a cookie-cutter spell from the dusty pages of some ancient tome. Had to clear that up because, you know, some witches get their broomsticks in a twist when you mix "chaos magick" and "creating your own craft" in the same cauldron <3.

And now, a moment of worship for the Goddess of Keys and Witchcraft, the ultimate diva, Hekate. Bow down, beauties, for her cunty aura is the reason I'm a devoted follower. The slay is real, and so is my commitment to the mystical queen.

—✧✷ Picture this: the current earworms that have me spellbound include the hypnotic vibes of Melanie Martinez, the powerhouse notes of Ariana Grande, the offbeat allure of Ayesha Erotica, the soulful serenades by SZA, and the sultry sounds of Summer Walker.

Now, let me spill the real tea—I might not be the maestro of musical taste. In fact, I'm shamelessly riding the trend wave, and who can blame me? These beats are too good to resist.

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•—✧✷ Alright, my curious companions, buckle up for a little rendezvous into the aesthetics of both my CR-self and DR-Self. If you're itching to unravel the layers of my vibe, swing by to the "Ivancore" page, or if you want more shifting teas, drive your Mercedes to "Ivanka's Shifting Teas" that you can access from the front page! 👀

And with that, my luvlies, behold the finale of my introduction—lovely, yet a tad messy. Here's to hoping that as you tread the path of my posts, you, my moots and followers, get to uncover the layers of Ivanka Beeyuh. For now, a temporary farewell, my luvlies. Buh-bye~

Xoxo, Ivanka. 💋🫧

back to front page —❥ 💙

[your-mom-friend]

Ranking Avatars on a Completely Arbitrary Scale Part 2: Apocalypse Boogaloo

Arson Montague: 11/10. What an icon. She is the moment. I want a full series surrounding her life. She had a Coffee Shop AU with Jack Barnabas and immediately stopped being evil and died. Poor girl. I can't help but find the circumstances of her existence so funny though. Her mom killed her dad while she's been pregnant. The cult didn't even want this to happen since she wasn't "conceived in the flame". According to the wiki they relented since "no one knew how that would even work". They threw away the childcare book because it didn't fit the aesthetic. She still turned out pretty okay. We love to see it.

Annabelle Cain: 8/10. We don't even know anything concrete about her childhood because she might not have told the truth. Go queen give us nothing! Yeah she terrified people at the arachnophobia study but she also used her powers to help Jarchivist and Co. so like? good for her? Confirmed Eldritch Horror.

Nikola Orsinov: 3/10 *in the tune* fuck this shit i'm out! fuck this shit i'm out! No but fr she gave me legit creeps and the forced skincare routine while hilarious to think about just makes me itch all over. Not a fan. Sorry bestie. Do have to give her points for being a whole Demon Mannequin and still being freaked out by The Coffin, as well as for being sassy with Elias. Points deducted for killing Danny

Nathaniel Thorp: 9/10 this man was requested and I had to look him up because i lowkey forgot but when I saw the start I remembered INSTANTLY I love him. He cheated death!! in a game!! what a madlad. Cut off his finger to prove a point lmao. Sad that he was a coward in the beginning but ah aren't we all? He died and then undied and then got better but couldn't eat or drink. What a character. @4bsent-damascus I hope you know you have excellent taste.

Melanie Queen: 8/10. Queen of owning her opinion. Not gonna call her a girlboss or whatever (she is but not for the eye thing) but if there's one thing she's unparalleled at it's owning her opinions. I feel for her! I really do. If I had a ghost bullet in my leg that decayed my morals enough to let me get all the pent-up anger out I would also not want it out. She was horrible to Jon for most of her run, but I also get it? Also, like fucking hell dude she had to mutilate her eyes to get her life back!!

Daisy Tonner: 8/10. She's a good person!! I love her. Points off for being a cop though. But she owned up to the harm she caused! And after disconnecting from The Hunt she worked VERY hard to make sure she wouldn't hurt people again and still allowed it to overtake her so she could protect her friends! Excellent character and she has incredible depth and complexity

Hezekiah WAKEly: 10.5/10 just wanted to lay in the dirt and get some sleep. What a mood. He didn't even really do anything! Yeah he was a little enthusiastic about the grave digging but I feel like that's understandable. If my only good sleep came after I dug graves I too would want to dig more graves. half a point off for murdering his friend though :/ I would've docked a whole point but his friend was a snitch and told the church which is pretty lame. Also it's so funny that the guy that wanted to sleep so bad had the last name Wakely

Maxwell Reimer: 5/10. His last incarnation kidnapped a kid which is a very bad thing to do, so don't. He is kind of a mid character to me honestly. Points for being a body hopper like my man JMag but eh. No real feeling about him sorry lads.

Tova McHugh: 5/10. Diversity Win! The person stealing your life force is a Demigirl! [This is from checking the wiki, where it's noted that Tova is referred to with both she and they pronouns.] This is more from personal dislike of the whole "I can do more so my life is worth more" philosophy they've got going on. Kind fucked up bestie. Was going to be a 4 but I kind of appreciate how much she's working for the philanthropy? In the sense of "I've taken their lives so I need to make it worth it so it wasn't in vain" which is has complicated feelings but I think it's good.

Micheal Crew: 6/10. Overall good character actually. He had some bad luck with the lightning strike and only went after the Lietners to get rid of the thing that was tormenting him. Devoted himself to The Vast and only then was a little insane. Don't think he even actually killed anyone? Just scares the shit out of them. Cool guy.

Julia Montauk: 7/10. Really cool to me actually. Feral, which we love to see. She's got such a fun dynamic with Trevor. She wasn't even like, a bad person at first. Just trying to live her life and then some pool of nightmare ink made heer feral and she's been living that monster hunting life ever since. Points off for keeping Gerry imprisoned and trying to kill Jon. Though I do wonder how she and Trevor managed to get into the UK at all considering they couldn't before

Trevor Herbert: 8.5/10. What a madlad. Showed up in season 1 like "what's up I'm Herb I'm homeless and I may have killed a man". Just wholesale unhinged. He also battled lung cancer. and addiction. and he won!! Incredible. Love his dynamic with Julia and I would've given him a 7 but I forgot about the addiction and lung cancer thing till I looked it up and I think that deserves an extra point that shit is hard.

This is part 2 of this post

Tag list: @pipis-pods @alas-shes-mad @4bsent-damascus @crabussy @u-suck-im-sick

Lmk who else you want to see and I'll add them in the next part (there's so many avatars it's insane there's like 80)

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

A Special Day - a TMA fic

It's the big day. Jon and Martin will join to create one family, to become Blackwood-Sims for the rest of their lives, however that looks.

But this world is a mess, and Jon's red-string conspiracy board doesn't come close to solving it. Also, Jonah Magnus has the worst timing no matter what world he's in.

Part of the Magnus Monsterverse.

AO3

------

I drove my uni roommates absolutely mad with my notes. Post-It notes, half-used notebooks, scraps of paper torn from things. Sometimes I wrote on old receipts, or on the backs of syllabi, or (one memorable day) on the A4 sheet with a professor’s name, which had been taped to her door. I had nothing else to write on! It wasn’t as though she’d miss it, anyway.

My coworkers at the Magnus Institute had no idea how good they had it, really.

At any rate, it wasn’t really shocking that no one could understand my filing system. The confusion on Martin’s face as he witnessed my newest masterpiece spoke to that.

“Uh,” he said, staring at my handiwork.

“Wait,” I said. “I can explain.”

His mouth twitched. Martin Blackwood, the love of my life, was trying very hard not to laugh at me. “Right,” he said, and put his bag on the counter, carefully avoiding the strings.

“So,” I said. “Here’s what we have so far.” And starting on the left, I walked him through my system.

Red strings connected events and people. Post-It notes indicated category by color, and colored paperclips to indicate subcategories. The unknown was scribbled on white lined notebook paper, generally pinned according to how confident I felt about solving them—i.e., red push-pins meant I don’t have a damned clue, green push-pins meant possibly someday, yellow push-pins meant, I am about to give up on this—

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” said Martin, no longer hiding his grin. “But maybe we could cut to the chase a little? What’s all this for?”

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry. I thought it was obvious.”

“No?” he said, outright grinning now.

I took a deep breath. “So here we have all the players that I know of. Two Agnes Montagues, status unknown; at least one Jared, status known; two Jude Perrys, at least one Melanie, three Georgies, two Nolans, Crew and Banks, Campbell and Jane Prentiss, at least one each of Michael and Helen—”

“Oh, there were more,” said Martin. “They get absorbed.”

I stared at him.

“By choice,” he added. “Trust me, they aren’t upset about it.”

I lost a few seconds as the Eye showed me a merging I couldn’t understand, because they became one and yet they absolutely did not. Michael was legion, which meant Gerry was literally fucking a horde.

I shook my head. Back to reality. “Right. Well. Three Gerrys, sort of. At least one Manuela, something like eight Jonahs, at least one Tim, Peter Lukas, Callum, and Simon Fairchild.”

“I mean, there are more,” he said.

“Oh, I know!” I said brightly, and continued to explain my system.

Satellite feeds “monitoring everything,” Manuela had said. Leitner’s mysteries. Gertrude the unknown. The nonsense of us all being chosen ones. The precise mechanics by which we all ended the world—which included the fact that apparently, I had done it in a totally unique way. “What is the Veil, anyway?” I said.

“A… dimensional skin?” Martin suggested. “I don’t know. I mean, the Fears aren’t exactly like Smirke envisioned them, either.”

“True enough.” Smirke had definitely not imagined anything like what the Eye had become.

It greeted me happily and dumped a few episodes of of 1980s Ducktales in my head.

I needed a moment.

“Jon?” said Martin, concerned.

“It… it’s nothing. Sorry.” It had a catchy theme-tune, though. "Anyway. Here’s the thing. Whatever is happening here… for some reason, it needs us. I… am the only one here who ended the world the way I did. What are the chances? How can it be? It can’t! Why me? Why like this?”

He slides up to me, and as his arms wrap around, I melt into his warmth and his scent, the sandalwood aftershave, the slight crispness of his starched tuxedo jacket, the softness of his fresh-shaven cheek. “Because you’re unique,” he said, and his lips grazed my ear. “I won’t hear otherwise. I am marrying the most amazing man I’ve ever known in any universe.”

I close my eyes, resting my face on his shoulder. Although the tux, I will admit, is not my favorite texture. “Suppose I’d better get ready.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” he teased.

I laugh. Then I go to finish arranging my own fancy clothes.

#

It wasn't not a large ceremony, but I’m quite certain it would still give a stranger a bit of vertigo. After all, half the audience was doubled.

At least doubled.

It was important to invite them. To say I was intentionally letting go of any potential lingering unpleasantness, bitterness, fear. To say I was joining this bizarre, piecemeal family—and by their invitation to our wedding, they were joining mine. Speaking of wedding…

A lot of Roman traditions made it through to modern times, and oh, boy.

I was damned lucky I didn’t need to wear a toga. We did have to don wreaths of flowers and herbs (both of us, instead of the “bride”), and would be wearing veils when we made vows. But before that… well, it was damned embarrassing.

So first, the “groom” (we'd decided I would be, based purely on the fact that I am older) must kidnap the “bride,” who pretends to be against it to fool the household gods. I must drag him away (while he loudly protests) with witnesses, who would, in all likelihood, be hurling bawdy jokes and dirty lyrics our way in an encouraging manner.

Then, having obtained my ill-gotten bride, I cart them away to a room with a special couch where we are supposed to consummate. With all our guests in hearing range, just on the other side of the wall. Dear lord.

So we wouldn’t be doing that, but we would do the rest, and spend some time on the stupid little couch while they all enjoyed a reception outside. After, we would sign the contract, and we'd be done. We’d be married. I’d be a husband. Why in hell was I nervous?

Martin kissed my cheek. “See you on the other side.”

“Come on, damsel,” said Tim, and pulled Martin away from me to the other room, where he would pretend to defend his honor.

Michael stood with me. It had insisted on being my friendly household spirit (a ridiculous fulfillment of a ridiculous tradition), and now handed me a small bowl of salts. “To throw and distract Tim,” it said unnecessarily.

“Thank you. And thank you for, uh. Volunteering.”

It grinned at me with too many teeth. “I had to see it happen. Also, Gerry asked it of me.”

Well, that was news (but it didn't have to be, and the Eye offered to show me their conversation in the middle of absolutely bizarre multi-person in single-body sex anyone could imagine, and I shut that right down). “Why?”

Michael shrugged. “Oh, Archivist… is it so hard to  believe others would like to see you happy?”

It was, and I didn’t know what to say.

The embodiment of doubt shivered. “Delicious, but now, it is time to move on. Are you ready for your role, Archivist?”

“Absolutely.” Not at all.

It cackled. The laugh was… less of a headache these days and more an expansion of human sound. “Delicious,” it said again, and steered me toward the door.

#

Ridiculous.

“Oh no! My virtue?” Martin cried as if in doubt it existed at all.

There was laughter as scents and lights and so many voices hit me all at once (and the Eye tried to show me everyone’s everything and I begged It to scale back), and Tim stepped between us and smirked, faux-glaring. “Thou shall not have his virtue, foul fiend.”

Martin was all-in. “Who shall rescue me from my virtue! Oh, wait, I got that backwards…”

The laughter was good-natured. Cheering (a surprising amount for me, by name) to get on with it and give a show, and the vague but ubiquitous command to get em. And I was laughing (and hadn’t expected to, but the joy on Martin’s face—) and people threw flowers and Tim waggled his eyebrows and said, “Put em up, put em uuuuup,” (The Cowardly Lion! the Eye informed me), and I emptied the salt bowl at Tim’s feet.

“I am defeated. My one weakness… salinity!” he said, swanning away.

The hoots and howls rose, and someone banged a tambourine. I was cheered on. By name.

Martin gave me the naughtiest look I have ever seen, and that was saying something. “Oh, no,” he said, absolutely flat. “To be freed from my binding chastity!”

And I don’t know what took over me. Maybe my millennia-past youth in student theater, or maybe the shock of everyone’s praise, or maybe… maybe just him, his eyes sparkling, his grin huge and playful, his blush (he was blushing!) amazing and lovely. Whatever the cause, I lost my mind, and dove all-in. “Oh, I’ll free you, all right,” I said (and managed a growl, to his delight), grabbed his hand, and yanked him into me.

He was larger. Heavier. But I stood still like a wall as he fell into me, and my arms around him were strong. “Jon,” he whispered, and licked his lips.

“Let’s blow this Popsicle stand!” I announced, spending all my “cool” credits for the foreseeable future, and ran for the door, pulling him behind me as everybody in the room erupted in cheers.

#

They started music out there, and loud conversation, patient while we did whatever with this steamy tradition.

Martin sat with me on the special couch (loosely inspired by the ancient Roman lectus) and held hands, side by side, both smiling shyly, both red in the face.

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this with me,” I said. “I red-stringed your kitchen.”

He laughed. “I’ll take your red strings over anyone’s anything.”

“Madman,” I pronounced, and pulled him in for a kiss.

We took our time, just lying there; we would not be consummating in (relative) public, but it was all symbolic, anyway. Also deeply romantic. To lie there under him, our tux buttons catching on each other, our breath mingled, our lips red and swollen, while out there, people we knew or had known cheered us on.

“This is weirdly inebriating,” I murmured, worrying his lower lip.

“You are,” he murmured back, and made an indecent sound. “You’re making it very difficult to be public-safe.”

“Your jacket is long enough,” I said practically, and he laughed.

“Come on, you goon. We’ve made them wait long enough. Got to sign the paperwork.”

The final formality. The Blackwood-Sims family begins.

We exited the room to ribald cheering, to loud toasts, to Tim and Michael hurrying forward to put veils on us and replace our wreaths. Carefully, both of us holding the same pen, we signed the final paperwork, and it was done. To massive cheering, we grinned at one another, his veil making his eye color pop, and finally joined everyone else in a feast well-started.

Can a man made of eyes get pleasantly sloshed? I was about to find out.

#

I have never “partied.” I can’t even qualify that with like this, because I simply never have. After today, I sort of see the appeal.

In true traditional fashion, everyone stayed and ate and drank until they were completely blotto. Some took advantage of the couches places strategically around the room to sleep it off. Others hired drivers to take them home; still others disappeared into mist, or vanished into webbing, or accepted a trip (so bold) through someone’s conjured doors.

Martin was out, leaning on the table with his head on his hands, dreaming… well, um. Things not meant for others.

I was considerably less drunk than I’d hoped I’d be, but at least I’d had a short while of feeling blissfully buzzed, delightedly dozy, and we all had a very good time. And I was married. There was that.

Married.

I could absolutely not be happier than this.

I hummed as I clean up a little, not that it was my job, but it was the least I can do to thank the people who came together to make this happen. I gathered and stacked cups, hummed some more as I put trash into a bag, and ensured everyone’s airways were unhindered.

I was married.

I couldn’t help smiling like a fool as I moved between tables. After this, we were going home. I’ve requested time off from my new job (and Spider Martin is hardly going to argue) so we could have something of a honeymoon, though I wasn’t entirely sure where.

Martin wanted to go to Canada. It was a magnificent place, apparently—neither France nor England ever had control over it, and the lack of colonialism left the land pristine and the people varied and creative. The Canadian nation was evidently a loosely affiliated network of tribal associations, and it was a wonderful place to visit.

I wanted to visit. I wanted to see, all on my own, without the Eye showing me… and It wanted that, too. It wanted to see through me. It wanted my heart, my mind, my brain; I didn’t fully understand why I was so to Its taste, but the crucial point was that we—

I felt it happen before I saw it.

Felt the parting of air, the ripping of this dimension’s flesh. The opening of a portal: the one that happened before in Martin’s tiny kitchen.

No. Not now. Why was this happening now? I turned to find that hole in the air, and that older Jonah Magnus staring at me through it.

He took in the tables, the sleeping guests, and just slightly, wrinkled his nose. Oh, older Magnus looked worse for wear. His shirt was sweat-stained, and his hair all stood on end as though he’d been running his hands through it. I saw the ghost of young Jonah in his face, in his features, but this man was entirely different. A scowling man, a harried man. He did not look at me with adoration, for one thing, which was deeply appreciated.

I’d had a plan for this. Exactly what I would say and how. Instead, I blurted, “You came back.”

“Come through,” he snapped. “At once.”

What the blazes? “Why would I do that?” I snap back. “You’re interrupting my wedding, I’ll have you know.” (My entire planned conversation had at this point gone up in flame.)

He startled. “You wed?”

“Yes! Who are you? What do you want? What are you doing?” I said.

Magnus kept looking around the room, frowning more by the moment. “Most unexpected,” he muttered. “No matter. Bring your bride. Come through. Before it’s too late.”

“I don’t have a reason, do I?” Gods, I was messing this up.

He drew himself up straight, and I finally noticed how broad his shoulders were, and how defined his forearms. “Very well,” he said. “I wanted to do this the easy way.”

Those were never good words to hear. I took a step back. “Do what the easy way?”

His look was withering. “Save the world, you bloody monster.” And he held up a—

I—

Don’t know what—

Sirens?

Darkness.

#

I woke to Martin’s scent, familiar and lovely. My head was in his lap; this was a good place to be, a safe place, and I turned my face to press it into his wonderful, soft belly and hide from the world.

“Jon,” he said softly.

“Mmm,” I said.

“Jon,” said Jonah Magnus, and I went stiff.

I turned my face slowly to find young Jonah there. He had a violently black eye, and what might be some dried blood on the side of his neck. But his expression… it was not defeated. It was not upset. It was triumphant. “I knew he’d wake.”

Martin’s arms were around me, and he lifted me slightly, holding me to his chest. “You scared me a lot, Jon,” he said, almost lightly, almost casually, into my hair.

I felt absolutely… awful. It was almost familiar; in secondary, I’d driven myself half-mad trying to get the best possible grades in my final year, and ended up passing out from… well, a combination of poor decisions. Waking from that faint felt like this; difficult to open my eyes, difficult to remain conscious, impossible to really focus on anything.

Martin made the tiniest sound. A miserable sound. As if he’d been crying.

I would not be unable to comfort him now, and with my push of will, my body seemed to settle. I gripped Martin’s arm. “What happened?”

“You were attacked,” he said, and suddenly I was aware of flashing lights, of many voices. There was an ambulance outside.

Oh, gods. “What happened? Is everyone…”

“It was close,” said Martin. “But everyone is okay.”

“What happened?” I cried.

“Hold on, Jon,” said Martin, and turned to talk to the police officer who came over to see me now that I was awake.

I lay silent, held by my husband, fighting dizziness. Jonah said nothing, but did not leave, and I realized the dark spots on his shirt were… burned. Cloth singed black.

How? I… why couldn’t I see it?

The Eye was silent.

The Eye was…

“Easy, Jon,” said Martin, because I’d begun to hyperventilate. “You’re all right.

The Eye was silent! “I…”

“It’s fine,” Jonah whispered, leaning in, hand on my arm. “It had a shock, too, through you. It’s recovering. It’s fine.”

I stared at him. “Tell me what happened,” I whispered.

“When we’re out of here.”

I shuddered.

The policewoman leaned over. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, as if struggling to meet my eyes. “Hello, Mister Blackwood-Sims. I know this is the worst time, but we need a statement.”

“I don’t know what happened,” I say, because it was the truth. “We were… everything was done, and I was helping to clean up, and then… suddenly, I’m waking now.” Which was a lie.

“Hm,” said this policewoman. “We’ll be contacting you. Something happened, and hopefully, you’ll be able to remember more. Congratulations, by the way. Sorry this happened, whatever it was.” She did not say that as if she meant it.

“Thank you,” I said, because I had to, and hid my face in Martin’s belly again. I let the world spin around us, clung to my husband, and just held on until we were finally allowed to leave.

#

There was a lot of burning. Jonah wasn’t the only one; Martin fielded text after text as our guests checked in, verifying they were all right, offering aid.

I was amazed. I thought we’d be blamed for… whatever this was.

And what had it been?

Jonah walked with us to Jared’s car, and rode with us to Martin’s apartment, and sat with us in our living room while Martin took my jacket and gave me something cold to drink.

“I don’t know what triage looks like for eyeballs,” I said, trying to be funny.

And the Eye… responded. Washing stations, refractory medical therapy, surgical intervention by an oculoplastic surgeon or neuro-ophthalmologist or neurosurgeon providing a ventriculoperitoneal or lumboperitoneal shunt.

Oh… oh.

I know It felt me react, nearly weeping with relief, unable not to, glad and grateful even though I would have done anything to be free of it in my former life. Are you all right? I thought at It.

In response, It gave me an absolutely bizarre animated movie called, Care Bears Movie II: A New Generation.

I laughed weakly.

Jonah watched me, eyes lidded. “There It is,” he said.

Finally, I was able to turn my attention his way. “Explain. Explain now. If I have to order you by whatever absurd deity you have assign to me, so help me, I will.”

“Easy,” said Martin, pulling me against his chest, arms around me. “Not my favorite thing to say right now, but… we owe him.”

“Owe him!”

“I saw…” Jonah took a slow breath. “I wasn’t invited to your wedding.”

“No, you were not,” I said.

Martin kissed my forehead, and that was enough. I fell silent.

“I understand,” said Jonah, long lashes brushing his cheeks. “I hadn’t been supportive of your relationship. It’s only fair. But I was… nearby. I wanted to congratulate you after, and hopefully put all the unpleasantness away. I waited while those who were going to leave left, and I waited while you were doing whatever in there.” He said that with the dismissive tone of one who clearly would rather not think about us doing whatever in there. “But then I saw a shift.”

“A shift.”

“I’d seen them—we had, my friends and I—a few times when we began truly exploring what we could do in service of the Eye,” he said, “and I recognized it. Someone was wrinkling reality. Damaging the walls between worlds.”

I stared at him. “Multiverse is absolutely not a thing you thought in the 1800s.”

His look was… real. “It was, though not by that term. We’d uncovered that much. The point is, I ran inside, and found you facing something that really took me a moment to understand. I froze, Jon. I apologize.”

I stared at him.

Jonah sighed. “I thought, for a moment, it was my father, back from the dead to haunt me through a hole in the air. But that only lasted a moment; I knew him. Knew him.”

“He was you,” I said softly.

“Me with… many, many different choices made. And he was hurting you.”

“How?” I sat up. “What was happening?”

Jonah studied me. Then he looked at Martin. “Does he know?”

“You know he doesn’t,” Martin whispered.

“You’re both being very worrisome,” I said.

Martin produced his phone—screen now cracked—and opened the camera.

I startled… badly. My eyes were… I… “What the fuck?” I whispered.

“He had something I can only think of as… a prism,” said Jonah.

I shook, was shaking, could not calm my breath. It had been difficult enough to handle my brown eyes turning green, but this—

True polycoria, the Eye said, in which there is an extra pupil, reactive to light and medication, independently dilating and contracting with triggers, and with an intact sphincter muscle. Normally, this leads to handicapped vision, but in your case, it has improved it. Also—

I closed my eyes and my mind tightly.

Jonah was still talking. “It looked like a mirror, sort of, except that you were broken up in the reflection, as though the mirror's surface had shattered. And you were… you were breaking apart, Jon.” His voice cracked. “You were making these horrible cracking sounds, and… there was so much heat.” He shuddered. “Like sunlight through a magnifying glass, though I couldn’t see its source. I tried to help you, but, ah.” He indicated his burns with a small smile, as if to say all was forgiven. “So when that didn’t work, I picked up a chair and threw it at myself. It hit the thing he was holding, and it shattered.”

“That’s when I could move again,” said Martin, his voice so strained. “I was hearing it all, but I couldn’t… no one could move.”

“By then, there was fire all over, in random spots,” said Jonah, “but you’d stopped cracking apart and had fallen to the floor, insensate. We put out the fires. Evacuated people. The other me was… rather furious, actually.”

“He had an argument in some other language,” Martin said, and gave Jonah a sharp look.

Jonah looked far too thoughtful. “He did. He tried to tell me you were the end of the world, and if I didn’t help get you through the portal and to him, it might be too late. I said we’d already all ended it a few times, and didn’t need his help, thanks. He, ah. Didn’t appreciate that.”

“He pulled out a damned handgun,” said Martin.

A Tranter revolver from 1858, I was informed, which was a double-action cap & ball revolver invented by English firearms designer William Tranter in 1858. This model operated with a  dual-trigger mechanism, one to rotate the cylinder and cock the gun, the other to fire it. The first model of his own design used the frame of an Adams-type revolver, with a modification—

That told me something about other-Magnus’s time.

“He did,” said Jonah. “Fortunately, whatever hole he’d opened couldn’t handle bullets. He fired once; it ricocheted. Someone unseen behind him shouted, I told you that wouldn’t work! and then his hole collapsed.”

Slowly, I looked at the camera again. My eyes were normal. I’d willed them normal—or willed them to better hide. “You… you saved us.”

“I saved you,” said Jonah. “I won’t lie about my priorities here—you’d know, anyway, and to you, I will never lie. But… they are your people, so yes, I did make some effort.”

“How bad was the fire?” I can’t fully process all of this.

“It was lots of little fires,” said Martin. “Jonah helped, Jon. I’m not thrilled by this either, but it’s true. He helped.”

“I knew you wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t,” said Jonah.

There was a strange comfort in knowing that his self-satisfying bullshit would work to my benefit for now. More than that: to the benefit of my loved ones. “Thank you. I… I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Something I wasn’t willing to allow,” said Jonah, low, his young voice cracking.

Martin sighed. “It’s been… a day.”

I looked at him. “You can’t be all right with this. With… I just…”

“Jonathan Blackwood-Sims,” said Martin. “If you say you ruined our wedding, I swear I’m going to snog you until your face could melt marshmallows.”

I choked.

Jonah stood. “I really need to go get this looked at. I’m glad you’re both all right. Congratulations.”

I looked up at him (and we both pretended my face wasn’t already on fire). “I don’t… know what I owe you. I don’t know how to respond to this yet.”

He was so godsdamned eager. “I know. In time, you will. I’m sincere, Jon. I would die for you.”

“Please don’t,” I muttered.

Jonah smiled, still patient. “Many happy returns.” And he left.

Martin left me long enough to like the door, then sat with me again, and we clung.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Don’t even fucking… I did this. Maybe not on purpose, but my presence is the reason—”

“And you are worth it, so you will stop,” Martin said, almost sharp, holding me so tightly it was like he wanted our ribs to catch on one another, like he wanted us to share a heart. “I feel so… useless.”

“Useless!”

“Here you are, you’re… you’re a god, apparently,” he said, and laughed weakly, “and you’re making things happen by just speaking, and there’s some insane plot going on with an alternate universe, and I’m just… I can’t even say boo! I couldn’t even move when it was happening!”

“Oh, Martin.” I breathed against his neck, kissing the curve, still scented with his cologne, though also now his sweat. I loved all of him, in any condition. “Without you… I know what I said to Gertrude, but I… I need you. So much. Please don’t think… please. Don’t think you’re useless. You’re anything but.”

“The only thing I can do is love you,” he whispered.

“That’s what I need,” I managed. “While you love me, I still feel human.”

He inhaled. Then he started kissing me.

We were both tear-wet, both smelling of smoke and sweat. Both smelling of chemical fire extinguisher, and alcohol. Both trembling from adrenal shock and whatever powers were expended against us tonight. But we lay on that couch together, and pulled off our sodden dress clothes, and held each other, and kept each other in one piece, and it may not have been a traditional wedding night, but it was perfect for us.

We were grounded.

We dozed, the couch's afghan draped over us, murmuring at each other about getting a steam cleaner in here and laughing at our indulgence.

I was so glad I could sleep. I still felt… dizzy, out of it, weak. Perhaps, like I almost blew apart.

What was that? What happened? It didn’t just hit me, either. Somehow, that hurt the Eye? How? How could that happen?

Maybe it didn’t hurt the Eye. Maybe it hurt the parts of It that… were affected by me. This personality. These preferences. This playfulness.

How horrible—yet my gut said that was true. What would have been damaged was not the eternal embodiment of the fear of being seen (of course not), but the… dare I say it? The good parts, or at least, harmless parts, or at least, more controllable parts…

The parts that liked me. That loved me

I was suddenly furious that whoever this other Magnus was, he’d tried to murder my friend. Oh, but since when had the Eye been—

I was suddenly flooded with a lovely recipe for warm vanilla pudding, because Martin liked that, and It liked Martin, and…

Fresh tears dampened the throw pillow beneath me, but I didn’t care. I held my husband. I still had my friend. I didn’t understand what happened... but I would. And when I did, whatever godly powers I had would be brought to bear.

This Magnus would regret the day he came after my loved ones. This Magnus would regret the day he didn’t finish the job. A god of guilt runs this world? For Magnus, I would make this world’s shame feel like a cool breeze on a hot godsdamned day.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Muh-muh,” Martin agreed, already asleep, and I held my husband, and seethed, and took a truly long time to follow him into rest.

[deceitfuldevout]

Easy Money (Part 1)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non-Con, Kidnapping, Torture, Mind break.

Author's Note(s): This may or may not have been inspired by Melanie Martinez’s ‘Tag you’re it’. Didn’t proofread, Also I’m making this into a series.

He was a hired hit man; he doesn’t risk leaving behind witnesses. But what intrigued him to take the job was the hefty bounty on his latest target.

His employer hired him to get back at a former boss. Some socialite known for being a complete bitch. Especially towards her male employees. He could care less. He was a hired hit man who doesn’t take risks when it comes to leaving behind witnesses. But what intrigued him to take the job was the hefty bounty on her. For a former employee to spend 10k per hour? She really must’ve been one huge bitch. All for some petty revenge porn.

He’d been given a location with list of written demands. A nightclub. The setting had been during their busiest hours. It was the same club where his employer’s ex coworkers would come to hang. A photo of his target had been provided. He searches the area for a familiar face. Soon enough he spots his hit.

There she is. He thinks to himself.

He strides his way to the dace floor, making sure not to lose sight of her.

Originally posted by doesanyonewannagetout

He stalks her from the shadows, eyeing the woman’s form up and down. His eyes feasted on the vixen swaying her hips to the loud music.

Cute little thing with a round ass. Doesn’t look like too much of a hassle.

He sways his body through the crowd, still eyeing the unsuspecting woman. He approaches her ever so slowly. He rocks his arms to the tune, blending perfectly within the crowd of party-goers.

Originally posted by imissyourbattlecries

He prepares to strike, knocking down the woman’s purse effortlessly. As soon as her wallet falls out he kicks it to the side. He picks up a lost lipstick and hands it to the unsuspecting woman, while slipping her wallet into his back pocket. She gives him a genuine smile, thanking him before turning around. He dances away, swiftly turning around to retrieve an I.D. then tosses her wallet onto the floor below. His mission had been accomplished. He already found what he’d been looking for.

This will be easy money. 

For the next few weeks the hit man plans it out carefully. Finding her address hadn’t been an issue thanks to the card. He would take his ice cream truck out everyday, circling it around her neighborhood to avoid suspicion. He’d been studying her schedule in order to find a pattern. After a while, the man had finally come up with the perfect plan.

3 Days later

Today was the day. He knew you’d be leaving work by now, “‘Excuse me ma’am,” the Iceman calls. You look up to find the voice coming from an ice cream truck. A man inside waves your way. He was seemingly ordinary, middle aged, with long brown hair and a beard. You couldn’t quite tell what his eye color was due to his thickly-framed glasses. He didn’t seem too suspicious. You’d seen him a few times driving around and handing cones to the neighborhood kids. You have a firm belief that looks can be deceiving. If the children trusted him, then surely he meant no harm.

He ushers you to come closer, “Would you like a sample? It’ll help with this heatwave going on,” You hop off the bench and walk over to the truck, “You would really do that?” when the man nods you’re thankful, “That’s so kind of you sir!” He hands you a Popsicle treat. He lets you know that they’re popular with the kids. You didn’t mind, after all it was free.

Originally posted by monets

You take in the first nibble. It’s delicious. You couldn’t help but bite back a moan of satisfaction. Your eyes shut blissfully as you take in a mouthful of the sweet treat, “Mmm ‘show good…” it feels as though you’re on cloud nine. This was much needed after the hectic month spent working in your company. With work and balancing your daily life. There wasn’t enough time to just enjoy the little things. Your tongue continues to lap at the sugary sample. But after a minute you start to feel bubbly. No..you felt...almost…sleepy? Your vision starts to blur. Your eyes flutter shut as you wobble to sit. That’s when everything went blank.

He carries the broad into his truck. Her breathing is slow. He could hear the faint air flow through her slightly parted lips. He stares at her cleavage popping out of her bra with every breath taken. Her skirt rakes up her leggings to reveal a matching garter belt and lace panties. He smirks.

At least she’s a sight for sore eyes.

Originally posted by cvlwr

He drives off until they reach end of town, where a secluded warehouse awaits them. His workshop is already set from the previous weeks of planning. He carries her limp body through the worn-down threshold. This is the first time he’s been paid to fuck someone (in a while). Usually he’d kill his targets on the spot and call it a day. But his employer had paid a shit ton for a show, and that’s exactly what he’s going to receive.

He’s already sporting a half hard-on but knows the guy wants a lengthy video. He’ll have to have a little help if he’s going to be fucking her for the next few hours. Can’t risk getting soft, not good for business. He’s gotta give the viewer(s) what they want. He lets out a deep sigh before popping a stimulant pill, mixing it with beer for an extra kick. He reaches into his khakis to retrieve his length, giving his shaft a few pumps until it’s stiff enough to stand on it’s own,

Ahh fuck here we go…

He has you sweating, naked, blindfolded, and gagged. It’s been 9 hours since you were abducted. Your tired mind doesn’t know how long he’s kept you. How many times he’s splurged his seed deep inside you. How many times he’s forcibly made you come undone in different ways. In some ways you never knew were even possible. He wraps his strong, chiseled arms around your waist. His hips jerk up into your sensitive pussy, causing a muffled scream to escape your gagged lips. Drool slides down your chin and onto the dirtied mattress. His breath hitches as he ruts into you at a manic speed. His mind is racing.

Shit! This pill is too damn strong! Oh fuuuck! My dick is on fire! I need to cum— quickly. I can’t fucking stop her pussy feels like goddamn heaven.

He pistons deep into your cunt, hitting your cervix at a brutally fast pace. Your breasts bounce up and down from him fucking your insides up. You could hear the echoes of his thighs and balls slapping against your pelvis throughout the empty warehouse. Your cunt makes lewd squelching sounds from being fucked over and over.

His breath was hot against your head. His long hair was dripping with sweat. His tongue licks a stripe against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the scruff of his beard against your cheek. He spits on his palm then slaps it on your clit. He grips your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing the poor bud mercilessly. Your stomach begins to tighten again and you panic. 

“Mmhmph!!!”

You whine like a bitch in heat. You shake your head and begin to sob again. No one could hear your muffled cries for help. You were too sensitive for yet another orgasm to be forcibly pulled from you. Your free arm attempts to push his hand teasing your clit. He slaps it away and has you coming yet again.

Your eyes roll back, while your back arches painfully. Your mouth slacks open. You can’t tell if you’re shrieking from the pain or pleasure as you cream around his member for what feels like the hundreth time. His grunting becomes louder and louder with each hard thrust plummeting your sore walls. You’d never been fucked this hard before. In fact, you’d never been fucked, ever.

His employer wanted to see him break you apart. All for his own sick pleasure. He also paid him double to keep you alive. So that you could live with the trauma of what happened for the rest of your life. What he didn’t pay for were the extra 6 hours of hardcore fucking. He lets out a throaty moan as his hot seed spills into your abused pussy once again. He’d lost count of how many times he’s emptied his load inside. Your stomach protrudes from being so full of his thick cum. There’s just one last step he has yet to complete, the cherry on top of his sundae. He lets out chuckle. He’d always remind himself of the golden rule:

See, the thing about someone with a lot of pride is, you have to break their spirit completely. So they’ll finally give up fighting.

Your kidnapper yanks the blindfold off, then ungags you. He reveals your now puffy eyes, your lips were swollen with marks where the straps were, and your face has a flush spread through the rest of your body. He grips the back of your hair, causing you to yelp. He tugs at your locks until you’re forcibly staring directly into the camera. 

He gives you an order, “Now, what do you say?” Your voice was hoarse from hours of screaming but still, nonetheless, you were audible, “Th-Thank you…thank you f-for fucking me…” your eyes are now glassy. Your mind had finally been broken. He tosses you back on the mattress, letting you cry it out.

You can hear him lighting up a cigarette as he nears you. He reaches for a leg and pulls you to the end of the mattress. You not to open your eyes. He already threatened to slit you throat if you ever saw his face. He parts your thighs with gloved hands and sticks his head in between. His face is near your opening, examining the damage done. Admiring his work. He puffs out a cloud of smoke, “Shit…best pussy I’ve had in years. Might haf’ta carve it out ‘n wrap it for later..” he wiggles a brow. You shook your head vigorously, ”P-please..no..” you curl up into a ball and sob.

He just loves teasing you.

Originally posted by tomlhardy

He smothers you with chloroform. Muffling any cries. Darkness consumes you yet again.

When you awaken in a hospital room. The doctors informing you of a psychosis breakdown. You usher them for a DNA sample kit. Something to prove that you weren’t crazy. But by the time the results came in, there was nothing the police could do. You were told that there hadn’t been any DNA left behind. Those were the words told by the Sheriff. From underneath your nails, to the inside of your womb. Every part of you was ‘spiff clean’.

That’s when your world came crashing down. You gave up your position at the company due to the anxiety attacks. Allowing for your most trusted employees to monitor it’s actions. Not long after you were isolating yourself from friends and family. The trauma had you transferred into a psychiatric hospital for months, followed by another year of therapy. But the second year you start to pick yourself up on your own two feet again. Around the third year you decide to change your life for the better and began a startup business. 

You now owned a small thrift store on the edge of town. Your usual customers were mainly young teens or elderly folks. You would recognize each regular customer that would walk in. There had been this one customer in particular who would spy on you every now and then. You noticed his lingering stares before he’d leave the store abruptly. One day he decides to walks right up to you and actually start a conversation,

“Hey,” you look up, making eye contact with a pair of ocean blues. They reminded you of home. He scratches the back of his head, “I was wondering if we could maybe…go out on a date?”

For some reason he seemed so familiar. As if you knew him from somewhere else. You shyly look up into his baby blue eyes filled with confidence. You hesitate for a moment. Anxiety began to bubble up and you freeze. The man speaks up before you get a chance, “You know what, it’s alright if you don’t feel comfortable. I mean I’m a total stranger, and I well, I don’t want to seem like a creep. I understand if you’re not interested in a relationship at the moment. That’s fine. I’m sorry for bringing it up especially at your work—“

“Wait! I-I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off I’ve just never been asked out before—I’ve never even been in a relationship either. I should’ve said something earlier. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring your advances, it’s just that I don’t even know your name,” You look up at him. Your face is beat red but you muster up the courage to speak “…I’ve got a busy schedule…so I’ll close early tomorrow?” your brows furrow, awaiting for an answer.

He smiles, “Robert Pronge, It’s a date, and ah..dinner’s on me,” he winks, sending small flutters to your heart.

Originally posted by marvelrose

The next day went by fast. You close the store a bit earlier than you had planned. Giving time to reapply your makeup in the restroom mirror. He waits at the front door. A warm light emphasizes his features, making them appear softer. He hands you a small bouquet of fresh flowers, you blush while giddily accepting them. He offers his arm to hold. While you confidently take it.

Originally posted by sensualrelations

How can someone be so kind and gentlemanly? You don’t see much of those nowadays…

Inside the restaurant were vintage couple’s booths. As soon as the both of you finish your meals you begin small talk. The conversation grows deeper and more intimate. You finally stop beating around the bush and finally ask him a question you’ve been dying to know, “I’m sorry it’s just that—I can’t help but feel like I know you from somewhere..have we met before?”

His voice is deeper, “You really don’t remember me do you?” He couldn’t hold back his laugh.

Originally posted by drunkxabi

He flings his arm over your shoulder until it’s gripping the side of your waist. He tilts his head towards your ear, “Don’t you remember me baby? I’m the same guy who kidnapped you all those years ago…” he snickers. You shake your head in disbelief. He nods with pouted lips, “I couldn’t stop thinking about this sweet pussy of yours…” he sighs, reassuring you that he is in fact, the man who ruined your life. Your eyes begin to prickle with tears.

He moans in satisfaction, “Oh keep doing that baby…you look so pretty when you cry…” he lets out a huffed breath against your face. You try springing from the seat in an attempt to escape. But his arms have a firm grip around your body. Before you could scream bloody murder one of his hands covers your mouth, “Scream and I’ll kill everyone in here. Did you forget that I never back down from my word?”

When you begin to calm down, he lets go.

Tears slide down your cheeks, “Please…what else more could you want from me…?” You sob. Robert holds you close to him. He whispers in your ear as if he were a lover,

“Everything.”

[chocolix76]

An unstarted project: Rupert and the Misfits

Just a few months back, I came up with an idea for a FNAF fangame called Rupert and the Misfits. Since I lack coding ability and the money to hire a team at the moment, this game probably won't go into production for another year or two. The premise of the game is subject to change but so far it was a 14-night game, each night averaging about 7-8 minutes. The storyline follows two protagonists, Melanie (the night shift worker) and Leon (the dayshift worker) trying to piece together what's wrong with the animatronics at the restaurant while surviving their shifts.

The restaurant The Misfit's Dine & Drink is geared towards older teens and young adults. It gives them a place to be themselves and feel represented and empowered while enjoying a nice meal, entertainment, and even making a friend or two. The animatronics not only play in a band but also do interactive events such as comedy or D&D nights and when they aren't providing entertainment on stage, they're roaming around the building and interacting with patrons. They're programmed for a more mature audience and are allowed to operate with a limited set of rules as to how they should behave. However, they are always respectful to patrons unless rudeness is deserved and aren't allowed to harm patrons unless the restaurant or the animatronics themselves are in danger.

If more people show interest, I'll gladly go into more detail about how the game itself works, but for now, I'll just talk about the main animatronics! There isn't any concept art for them yet and probably won't be for a while, but I'll open up asks about the game if people are interested!

Rupert: She's a fennec fox and the main vocalist of, well, Rupert and the Misfits! They have more of a rough and self-centered personality, wanting to be the center of attention most of the time. However, they are fine with sharing the spotlight with her bandmates every once and a while. Unlike the other members of the band, she has a two-toned voice which means that when she talks normally, she can speak in both a male and female pitch. When they sing, they have the ability to sing songs that require duets all by themself. To fit with their design as a fennec fox, she has sensitive hearing that allows her to stay on pitch with the music they're singing so they're always on pitch and in tune.

Osmo: He's a raccoon and the bassist of the band and overall the most chaotic of the group. Patrons sometimes joke around saying that he lacks any common sense because there have been times where he has gotten in trouble with the staff for attempting to set things on fire just because he's bored. Much like Rupert, he is a bit rough in nature and enjoys teasing patrons or just messing around with them, but he's really a softy at heart! Despite his more rough personality, he's a gentle person in reality and knows his limits and when to leave certain patrons be.

Oswald: He's a quokka and the drummer of the band as well as the gentle giant of the group. Oswald also has the ability to play woodwind/brass instruments thanks to a tube built into his throat that can extend and blow into an instrument if needed. While most of his other bandmates are more outgoing and don't mind breaking a rule or two for the sake of having some harmless fun, Oswald is more laid back and would rather go with the flow and watch from the sidelines than engage in the shenanigans himself. Rather than causing trouble when he's not performing, Oswald prefers starting meaningful conversations with patrons, ranging from simple small talk to deep almost therapeutic conversations.

Spencer: He's a calico cat and the guitarist for the band. Like Oswald, he also has a function where he has a tube in his throat that allows him to play woodwind/brass instruments. Despite being more reserved, he's the most active with interacting with patrons and will often flirt with anyone he deems can handle it without things getting strange. The staff has specific outfits picked out for each animatronic, but Spencer often refuses to wear the outfits chosen for him and will take the more punk outfits and switch them with more feminine clothing. He's in charge of D&D nights and comedy sets and though he can often be quiet, he more than makes up for it in stage presence!

[c-rose2081]

Little bit of character design and story for tonight :) I just love her palette honestly - it brings me joy 🥰

-

Melanie fights with a double bladed, duel colored lightsaber and is a practitioner of both Form II and Form IV, mixing an elegant fighting style consistent with traditional one-on-one dueling, with more aggressive acrobatic tendencies to catch opponents off guard with her speed and flexibility.

Due to the nature of their unique weapon, Melanie can also incorporate Jar’Kai into her fighting style, as her weapon holds two separate kyber crystals, and can be split into halves: a long blade (the pink side), and a shoto style blade (the blue side). The sabers, as they don’t share a single beam of energy, don’t need to be deactivated when split or put back together, as they have their own separate components and can act both individually, or together.

Melanie didn’t actually get two crystals just for her, rather the force gifted her with two. One to represent her own essence (the magenta color), while the other represents her twin sister who died while still in the womb of their mother (the blue). Melanie fully believes that rather then truly dying, her sister’s physical body was simply too weak to be born properly. Therefore, her own brighter essence offered the weaker a home in the stronger body, which the two essences now inhabit together. Hence the dual kybers. She goes by ‘her’ usually, but also ‘they/them’ as she does recognize her sister as a present and active part of herself.

This can also be seen in Mel’s personality, as she is normally a gentle and empathetic soul without much desire to fight or lash out. Her sister though is far more aggressive in regards to battle. The elegance seen in Mel’s Form II style is very much her own, brought on by her own pacifism and lack of bloodlust. Form IV is used by her sister in response to attack, or to keep them safe.

Sometimes when they are alone, Mel can tune out and have a conversation with her sibling inside their mind, though it’s discouraged as it leaves her open to attack. She can still chat openly with her counterpart while alert, but it has to be out loud so it’s really just her talking to herself and those around her think she’s lost her marbles.

Though her given name is Meela-Ni, Mel isn’t a huge fan of their mother, who gave them to the Jedi at the first sign of showing. It was the right decision as she’s a decent enough Jedi, but Mel was separated from the Togruta people and culture early, leaving her a bit resentful of it. Therefore she retranslated her name into Basic, and goes by Melanie. Unless it’s by her Master, Shaak-Ti, who is the only exception to that rule.

[smolwritingchick]

Upcoming Chapters I plan to post in my next batch of edited chapters this week :)

Bangtan Gal:

Chapter 13- Boy In Luv (Jennie vows to do better in the next ISAC. Jungkook, V and Jennie bond over Linkin Park, BTS film Boy In Luv as Jen films special scenes with Jimin who flusters her and Suga who has great chemistry with her)

Chapter 14- Look Forward To White Day (BTS and Jen are interviewed about their new album, Skool Luv Affair. Jen gets caught in the K-Pop news after getting filmed doing something in public. She celebrates Valentine’s Day and J-Hope’s birthday with BTS)

Chapter 15- Going to SOPA (After auditioning successfully for SOPA, Jennie attends school for the first time in South Korea as she goes with Jungkook to the opening ceremony)

Chapter 16- Spending White Day with BTS (Jennie underestimated Yoongi's words when he said she would get spoiled for White Day)

Chapter 17- Just One Day (BTS and Jennie promote Just One Day and attend weekly idol. Jennie and the rest of BTS join in to prank Rap Monster during his 4 Things filming and Jen gives her point of view on him)

Chapter 18- American Hustle Life Episode 1 (Jennie can't keep her mouth shut when BTS are suddenly kidnapped in LA. She gushes over Tony and BTS meet Coolio)

Chapter 19- American Hustle Life Episode 2 (Jennie proves that she has knowledge of hip hop and gets words of wisdom from Coolio when she reveals she would like to rap one day, especially about female empowerment and confidence)

Chapter 20- American Hustle Life Episode 3 (Jennie talks about her passion for freestyle dancing as she and the guys are put to the test to prove their dancing skills. After being called out to dance, Jennie proves she doesn’t need the guys to dance for her. Jen works alongside Suga in the dance competition. Jen and Jungkook are interviewed about their friendship)

Chapter 21- American Hustle Life Episode 4 (When the next challenge has to do with rapping, Jen is quick to let Suga know about her lack of skills. Suga however, reassures her and is finally asked by her for rapping lessons.)

Chapter 22- American Hustle Life Episode 5 (Finding out that she won’t be able to use the Bangtan Boys for the American Version of Boy In Luv, Jennie attempts to use her charm to grab a guy to film with her)

Chapter 23- American Hustle Life Episode 6 (Jennie is bombarded with questions about Kevin. As part of Team R&B, Jennie tries to improve her vocal skills and calm her nerves when Iris requests her to sing an emotional song.)

Chapter 24- American Hustle Life Episode 7 (Jennie brushes off the subject of her old group. Jungkook gets jealous when he finds out Jennie and V are working at an Ice Cream shop. Off screen, Jen and Namjoon eat together but are interrupted by someone Jennie has been trying to avoid)

Also! As I continue to edit and update the masterlist for this story I will label chapters that have a lot of JenKook fluff, which ones are my favorite and so on. Stay tuned! Also thinking of making some scenes from future chapters as BTS x reader one shots and I can make a separate masterlist for that. We'll see how things go

-----

Forced To Believe:

Chapter 13- Catching Up Before MITB (Melanie is back in Philly to visit family and makes preparations before the PPV)

Chapter 14- Money In The Bank 2013 (Morgan manages The Shield for their matches. The pressure is on as Morgan competes in her first Diva's Championship match in her hometown against Kaitlyn and AJ Lee.)

Chapter 15- Total Slap! (Eva Marie gets bold with Morgan. The Shield visit NXT and deal with RVD and Big Show)

Chapter 16- Frustration (Morgan attends Summerslam, Melanie starts to get a push as creative wants her to become the outspoken diva, Morgan continues to have issues with Eva Marie and expresses her concern to her old friend Randy Orton about his actions at Summerslam)

Chapter 17- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 5 (Melanie joins the girls for go-karting while Ariana and Trinity have issues with each other)

Chapter 18- I Know What I Have To Do (Morgan experiences AJ's Pipe bombshell, Morgan continues to express frustration on the abuse of power from The Authority and the roster's lack of action.)

Chapter 19- The Outspoken Diva (Morgan opens up her eyes and begins to speak up. Having enough she confronts The Authority)

[lovebvni]

Hey my name is Debo and i want to know what i need to hear rn

Messages you need to hear right now

Hi, Debo!! Your name reminds me so much of Dido, and her voice is so beautiful. I’m sensing you have a beautiful voice too. Your speech patterns, your accent or even just the way you make people feel. You’re in tune with your heart and throat so chakras. <3 good on u!!

i feel like this is important to say, but as soon as I finished typing the first paragraph, my dogs started harassing me w kisses n affection. They don’t do this often — as they’re usually playing around this time.

“Back in school” by Mother Mother came on. You’re sick of routines.

You’re fed up with the things going on. You’re done with the normal, the life you’re currently experiencing. I don’t know if you’re in school, or if you have a job, or there’s just a routine of some sort that you HATE but you’re required to do for another season. Unfortunately, right now, I see that you kind of have to stay here. You have to do it, and deal with it. But, I think you should try to find something you can do after/before this routine — or even on breaks to get out of this painful cycle. Some sort of crafts, events going on, going to the arcade and playing games (Battle of the Larynx by Melanie Martinez), or just something you’ve been interested in. If this is a job, my suggestion is to not quit right now. It seems as if that would be a bad idea.

”Look up, the sky is blue, even when it’s raining. Now look, a rainbow is forming, over there! Let’s get closer!”

Childlike energy here. Inner child healing and shadow work comes to mind. It is completely your choice if you want to do this or not, but it is highly recommended. Also looking at the bright side would be better. Don’t focus on the negative, rather focus on the good things going on in earth. Are you into fashion? Look at some good fashion business, maybe write up a mock article for them, promoting their brand! Don’t focus on the rain, trying to flush you out of the light. Look at the blue sky. Even when it’s sad, it can find happiness some time in a rainbow.

That’s all I have for you, Debo! But I hope this helps you.

There was also a lot of colour in this. Probably the most colour I’ve seen in a while when doing a reading. Specifically pink, blue and green. Blue and green probably coming from the heart and throat chakras. Perhaps do something with them! The pink seems just like your energy in general. It’s a very baby, light pink. Very beautiful.

I hope things go well, darling! and remember, there’s nowhere to go but up! (Mary Poppins Returns reference…)

[krizaland]

The Sleeping Princess Chapter 3

First Previous

Here’s chapter 3 of my Balan x self insert fic!

Be warned: there’s swearing ahead.

The song I used was Faerie Soirée by Melanie Martinez

“My god! What a nightmare! Glad that’s over!”

“As am I! You gave me quite a scare! You were wriggling about everywhere!” Lance noted as he held her tight.

The Sleeping Princess felt her stomach churn.

The nightmare was nothing compared to the horrors of reality.

The Sleeping Princess wanted to scream but decided on a different approach instead.

“Y-you know, that nightmare really had me spooked. I could really use some time alone to process everything.” The Sleeping Princess explained as she took off her mask.

Lance’s face fell as his grip tightened.

“Are you sure being alone is the best choice for your frightened head? You could always talk to me instead.” Lance offered, his voice laced with a slight whimper.

Lance’s sad tone tugged on The Sleeping Princess’s heartstrings but she stood her ground.

“Yup! Sorry, Lance but we gotta cut cuddle time short.”

Lance let out a sigh of defeat. He reluctantly released The Sleeping Princess and crawled out of the bed.

“Very well if that’s really what you want to do, then I won’t stop you. But if you need anything at all, I’ll be here at your call.”

And with a last somber look, Lance disappeared into the shadows.

The Sleeping Princess put a hand on her chest and let out a sigh of relief.

At least she finally got her stage to herself again.

The Sleeping Princess slowly crawled out of the bed and let out a yawn.

She was exhausted as always but the lingering nightmare refused to let her go back to sleep.

With a frustrated groan, The Sleeping Princess decided to venture through her stage again.

She took in the melting trees and the various patterns in the ever changing sky.

Otherworldly music filled the stage, sprinkled with eerie hums and whispers.

The grass changed colors with every step she took and the vines on the trees seemed to wave at her.

Despite the chaos that surrounded her, The Sleeping Princess finally felt at peace.

No Lance, no crying hat man. Just mesmerizing patterns in the sky and all seeing eyes on the trees.

She held out her arms and twirled a bit, listening to the bioluminescent mushrooms clap an upbeat tune.

With a grand leap, The Sleeping Princess was engulfed in a bright light.

FSSH!

With a burst of glitter, The Sleeping Princess had turned into a fairy.

She let out a giggle and flapped her new pink butterfly wings.

Despite just getting them, The Sleeping Princess flew like she had her wings all her life.

“The blue stars running down my forehead. Cold wings flutter when they're moving.”

The Sleeping Princess sang as she flew closer to the ground.

“Mushrooms everywhere I'm turning.

Laced with love, intensive grooving.”

She brushed her hand against the clapping mushrooms as she flew by.

“They said, they said, I know how to make you go crazy every day. Ooh-ah, ooh-ah”

The all seeing eyes followed The Sleeping Princess as she flew.

“Tease your mind and trick you, you really wanna stay? Ooh-ah, ooh-ah”

The Sleeping Princess took in a deep breath and sighed loudly.

“I know the way to make you lose your pace. Your trace, your trace. If you wanna run with the magic. Lose sight of the gravity of weight.”

The Sleeping Princess zipped through the melting trees, painting them with an array of various patterns and colors.

“Lips of sugar, I'm breathing the pheromones again. Oh-ah, oh-ah”

The Sleeping Princess took in the cool midnight air, as she felt the clouds literally kiss her cheeks.

“Hands are tied and Miranda Rights don't mean nothing.”

The Sleeping Princess let out a giggle as she gave one of the clouds a hug.

“Led me astray to the faerie soirée”

The cloud morphed into the face of the hat man. He was no longer crying but instead had a wide cheerful grin.

The Sleeping Princess let out a yelp and dropped the cloud.

“Alone, alone”

She shook away her shock and decided to fly closer to the ground.

“And now I wanna run with the magic. Lose sight of the gravity of home.”

The Sleeping Princess soon descended into a glimmering pond.

The pond swirled with every color imaginable, much to The Sleeping Princess’s delight.

“The blue stars running down my forehead. Cold wings fluttering and moving.”

She happily paddled through the pond, feeling the hug of the warm waters.

“Mushrooms everywhere I'm turning. Laced with love, intensive grooving. They said, they said…”

With a splash, The Sleeping Princess dove under the water.

“They said..”

The Sleeping Princess was greeted with a reef full of glowing coral.

Alien looking fish playfully swam by her side.

A pink angler fish with a heart shaped lure swam right up to The Sleeping Princess’s face.

The fish soon morphed into the hat man’s face, once again wearing that same smile.

The Sleeping Princess let out a whine as she shooed the fish away.

She let out a huff as she decided to focus on the warm waters encasing her skin.

“Somewhere on Venus, they're searching for me. While I'm covered in muck from the earth and the sea..”

The Sleeping Princess reached down and ran her fingers through the glittery sands below her.

“Scratching this carcass like dogs with the fleas. I keep leaning to dying in all of my dreams..”

A few tears trickled down the her cheeks, quickly floating away and turning into drops.

“Gather me, all of we, everyone. I've been the boys and the girls, And everyone in between…”

The Sleeping Princess soon found a massive oyster shaped bed.

Her eyes lit up as she eagerly swam into the bed, resting her head on one of the Pearl shaped pillows.

“Gather me, all of we, everyone. I've been the boys and the girls.

And everyone in between….”

With an underwater yawn, The Sleeping Princess dozed off into a peaceful sleep.

When she awoke, the oyster bed had floated to the pond’s surface.

The Sleeping Princess gazed up into the ever changing sky and sighed.

Despite her nap, she still couldn’t get the hat man out of her head.

He seemed insane yet she couldn’t help but be drawn to him.

Who was that mysterious hat man?

Was he just a dream? Or something more?

Soon the hat man appeared in the sky.

He said nothing but pointed to his left.

“Seriously?! Ugh! Why won’t you leave me alone?!”

The Sleeping Princess guided the bed back to shore and climbed out.

No sooner had she done that, the hat man appeared right in front of her, still pointing to his left.

“Argh! Fuck off! It’s bad enough I have to deal with Lance! I don’t need you creeping on me too!” The Sleeping Princess whined as she stomped her foot.

The hat man didn’t respond. He just kept pointing to his left.

Letting out a scream of frustration, The Sleeping Princess pushed the hat man, only to phase right through him.

“What the- D’oh! I gotta stop thinking about that dumb hat man! He’s seeping into my stage!”

With a loud huff, The Sleeping Princess stormed back to her main bed.

She sat down and buried her face in her hands.

“Ughhh What am I gonna do?”

Next

[musical-chick-13]

You know what, I'll bite. I haven't thought about Cersei Lannister since GoT ended. What tunes do you have for her?

YES THANK YOU I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

"Rest In Peace" - Dorothy (these first two are my Ultimate™ Cersei songs)

"SPITE ALONE HOLDS ME ALOFT" - Lingua Ignota (highly recommend this whole album and everything by this artist but the subject mater is very heavy)

"Seventeen" - MARINA

"I Will Prevail" - Wonderland the Musical (obviously this one would need some rewrites/name changes on account of being about a Specific Other Fictional World, but the general feeling fits, lol)

"Vicious" - Halestorm (warning for glitchy/mild flashing in the video link)

"Even Though Our Love Is Doomed" - Garbage

"you should see me in a crown" - Billie Eilish

"Sometimes" - Melanie Horsnell

"Gasoline" - Halsey

"Crocus" - Boston Manor

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN :D :D :D

send me a fandom thing and I'll give you 10 songs I associate with it

[taceolsaol]

Alright, so MAG 81-100. I wanted to check in more often, but I was too busy listening to them 😅. So, thoughts on Season 3…

First of all, the spider story explains A LOT about Jonathan Sims. The fear of spiders, the oddness, the knowledge seeking, just so much about him in one episode.

Also, I’m glad Jon seems more normal in this season. He’s getting all his “eye” powers but the entire time he’s acting more like a human. I know he’s scared that he’s becoming a monster, but this season we see him interact with a real friend, make stupid but not as stupid decisions, and even avoiding Martin and Tim is out of a misguided effort to protect them. I think it’s because he can actually work towards understanding where he was trapped in Season 2.

And Georgie is perfect. Her character is such a great balance for everyone else. She’s logical but not stupid and understands the importance of people to lean on. She is such a great friend to Jon and really sets him in his place when he gets too in his head. I love her so much, which also means I’m terrified for her.

Daisy. She is a concern. Obviously by episode 100 she is controlled by Elias binding Basira to the institute, but she’s a loose cannon and this isn’t going to last. I genuinely cannot believe how trusting Martin is of the police and how sure he is they wouldn’t want to kill anyone…. Like?

Elias’ role in all this is confusing. Obviously Jon is playing the key role for The Eye, so what is Elias. Just supposed to control the Archavist to make sure they don’t step out of line like Gertrude? Seems odd to me, because he also definitely doesn’t seem to be in control.

The way Melanie and Basira join also feels a bit strange. Like Melanie joining without listening to Martin’s protests and then trying to poison Elias? It seems so out of character for her and while being there she seems to have really changed. Basira seems totally fine and happy to settle into the role. They just seem to react very differently to the situation.

Tim. I’m not sure how to feel about him. I feel so bad, he so clearly doesn’t want to be here and he can’t leave. But none of them can. Even after Jon’s situation gets explained he still blames him. He tells Martin it is Jon’s fault Sasha got replaced and if anything happens to them. I can’t imagine how Tim feels, but his blame and anger seem pretty misplaced. Also worried if he keeps resisting so hard whatever is holding him there is going to decide it isn’t worth it.

And Martin, poor Martin. First off, his statements and the way he reads them is terrifying and heartbreaking. You can hear the emotion and pain in Jon’s statements, but Martin’s are almost overwhelming. They certainly overwhelm him. It does make me wonder exactly how tied to The Eye everyone else is. Jon is the Archavist, but Martin seems pretty tuned into what is happening. I’m just not sure. Second, I like when he stands up for himself and he needs to do it more. Third, its so sad how worried about Jon he is. The others are worried about their own interests for the most part (except Georgie probably), but Martin just seems worried if Jon the person is alright.

And then episode 99 and 100… I cant believe Jon just got kidnapped. Wtf and right when Georgie convinced him to reach out to Martin for help. That’s just rude! Also he’s screwed, so… and episode 100 is just painful to listen too. Whatever power the others have, getting a coherent statement isn’t it. I don’t think it’s their fault, those people that went in have no idea how to tell a story at all? I think I could give a more coherent statement than that? It’s not all on the Archavist.

Finally, Peter Lukas. Looking for Elias. Doing something? to that statement giver. Bad, I’m guessing…

[fallroute]

THE GUNGNIR GIRL - PART 2

Though they had interrogated her and Melanie had hidden the existence of her own Gear from them, there wasn't much they had on her beyond her records that Genjuro got from his connections. By all means, she was probably just lucky to use Gungnir in their eyes, and she was asked to be a part of S.O.N.G.

Having asked for a few days to think about it, she'd been present the next day as a sort of "shadow" to the Wielders while they were talking about Project Ignite. Elfnein stated that the Gears in S.O.N.G's possession beyond the active six would also go through Project Ignite, and Melanie was skeptical about this.

And then, the alarm for the Alca-Noise sounded, which had Melanie stepping out to open a portal. She needed to get to where they were, almost immediately.

And when she had opened the portal, she had thought of the girl. Hibiki.

Hibiki wouldn't be able to fight the Noise. She'd be a sitting duck, and that was how she found the two of them. In an abandoned building, with Hibiki grabbing at her throat trying to force herself to sing. Leaning against a pillar, she wondered if Hibiki would actually be able to sing.

If not, then this would be where she died.

And it was that bitch who said that Hibiki's songs didn't exist to hurt people that Hibiki was able to sing again, to rescue her. But it didn't last long at all, as Micha destroyed her Gungnir. She heard the girl scream like she'd gotten hit, even though it was only the pendant... and watched her fall to the ground without the Gear.

Pushing off the pillar as Hibiki's name was screamed out by that damned Miku, Melanie didn't know what came over her as she kicked Hibiki over, where the girl was facing the sky.

"Wake up. You weren't hurt, only your Gear was destroyed." With no response, Melanie pulled out the pendant in her pocket and looked over at the Autoscorers. A sigh escaped her as she turned to face them, with Miku coming running to Hibiki's side. Melanie was half-tempted to kick her, too, so she'd stop her whining.

"She's fine, she's being dramatic. Both of you are." Melanie said plainly, holding up her pendant. "But I think you Autoscorers missed a Gear. Want to take me on?"

"Another song to destroy?" Garie's voice drifted down towards her as the girl jumped down from where she stood, going to stand near Micha. "Then I'll be the one to destroy it."

"Wait, you're that girl from yesterday!" Miku said. "Please, you have to help! Hibiki is-"

"She's fine. All that happened was that her Gear was destroyed. She took a fall harder than that earlier." Melanie said. "Douse her in water if you have to, just wake her up and get the hell out of here."

"But Hibiki is-"

Melanie tuned her out, returning her attention to the Autoscorers and closing her eyes briefly. Putting the hand holding the pendant near her chest, she let the song flow out from between her lips.

"Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron ...!"

---

"We're detecting another Aufwachen Waveform!" Sakuya said as the familiar analyzation appeared on screen. The form started to change as both he and Aoi worked to analyze the waveform that had appeared.

"What?! But there's no more Gears that can be used!" Genjuro shouted.

And then, it appeared on screen once the analyzation was complete. A familiar waveform, that all of them had seen before. And, on a higher screen, the word 'Gungnir' appeared on it. Another Gungnir, a third one.

But from where?

"What?! Gungnir?!" All of those in the command bridge said in unison. Genjuro frowned. This shouldn't be possible. The fact there had been two was hard enough to believe, but three?

"Get me a visual on the location!" He commanded. Aoi and Sakuya both got to work on that, getting a visual of the same place where Miku and Hibiki were, with the 'I need a few days to think' girl with them. But, that was when they all noticed that the girl was wearing a Gear.

"Isn't that... Sinclair?" Tsubasa asked, frowning. "How does she have a Gear?"

--

Miku stared at the girl who had been rude towards her and Hibiki. Saying they were being dramatic, and then not answering her requests for help. It was like she'd already formed an opinion of them in her mind, and Hibiki didn't deserve it. Hibiki was kind, nice and all the things Miku loved about her.

Staring at Hibiki, she didn't know what to do. Who to call, who to get help from. Hibiki was hurt, so badly hurt. She wasn't even waking up, and that girl had the nerve to call her dramatic? Her beloved was hurt!

--

"This feels a lot better." Melanie rolled her left arm a little before rolling her shoulders back a bit. "Not as tight, and not as circulation-cutting as that other Gungnir. So, Garie, ready for round two?"

Garie grinned. "Your song will be destroyed here!"

Melanie launched herself forward, using the momentum to throw a spin kick at Garie, who blocked with a sword made of ice. Garie attempted to go for the pendant, which just made Melanie block using one of the gauntlets on her arms. Tossing the sword aside with an easy backhand, Melanie went for a snap kick, hitting Garie in the chin when she least expected it.

Garie retaliated by going to slash at Melanie, who dodged out of the way. Garie grit her teeth in anger, pulling out a couple crystals and tossing them forward, bringing out a couple of Alca-Noise that were easily dispatched by a couple of kicks from Melanie. She then tried to attack with another slash, which ended with her getting kicked in the face instead.

"Mm, I'm getting kind of bored." It wasn't underestimating her opponents, really. Years ago, Melanie would've lost immediately if she had tried going one-on-one against Garie. With the experience and training these past years, she had no problem seeing Garie's attack patterns.

This gave her the advantage, as Garie soon found out. Instead of her pendant being destroyed, she merely soundly beat Garie with little effort on her behalf. She knew, however, not to let it get to her head. That would be the end of her if she did.

"Go back and tell Carol she's going to have a lot more than just Ignite-boosted wielders on her hands," Melanie said after a moment of a standoff between herself and Garie. Garie let out a "hmph!" and both she and Micha left. Letting Gungnir shut off, Melanie turned and walked over to Hibiki.

"Oi, are you really just going to lay there and pretend to be severely hurt? Or are you going to get back up?" She asked, crouching down next to the 'unconscious' girl.

"Hibiki is really hurt! She need medical-" And Miku would find that Melanie put her hand over her mouth.

"Shhhhut up. Shut. it." Melanie said. "Hibiki's not hurt. Does she have any wounds? No. She had a worse tumble earlier when she fell through a damn metal railguard and still got back up. So, wake up already. All that happened was your Gear was destroyed."

It took a few minutes, but Hibiki blinked and her lightless eyes turned over to Melanie.

"....I'm hurt." Is what she said.

"No, you're not hurt as bad as you think. Get up and start acting like a saviour of the people. Or maybe that was all a lie? You don't really want to help people, do you?"

".....Who cares... Gungnir is.... destroyed, there's no point in helping people anymore." Hibiki said, voice lifeless.

"Uh-huh. Yup, okay. That's it." Melanie pulled her hand away from Miku and picked Hibiki up by throwing her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Snapping her fingers, not wanting to bother with an incantation, she easily put a modest-looking outfit on Hibiki before walking off, not giving time for Miku to follow.

She'd put this girl through a boot camp, whether she liked it or not.