#no thoughts just incoherent mental screaming

[hxltic]

goin limp in könig’s arms nsfw

at first he’s a little frightened with the feeling of your already soft body in his large hands going even softer. Unnaturally soft. It was no question he was a large man, and by this point you two had been going a few rounds, so after you begged for his merciless side that only seeped from him on the battlefield, he’d obliged after forcing himself to forget about his personal feelings for your pleasure. Your back seemed to be stuck in an arch, with your hair thrown in different directions where the pillow was supposed to be. It was elsewhere on the floor.

There was a rough grip on your hips as he pulled you down onto his length, keeping his thrusts short and deep with whatever momentum you gave him. It was significantly easier before your eyes rolled back and your hands sought refuge on the headboard behind you, which he has now recognized as pleasure, along with incoherent babbling. You wished you could see the way his thick, toned thighs move back and forth for every single one of his sharp thrusts or hear the heavy german-accented pleasure fall from his lips, but you can’t. Instead, you could feel it. Instead, you could only see darkness or the ceiling through slim vision. Instead, you could faintly hear every time the headboard hit the wall, despite it being hard enough to create dents in the material and rattle the building.

“Kö-König,” you’d attempt, and once your babbling got the least bit coherent (more than just his name of course), he’d grunt back, “Ja Liebe, I’m here.” Even if you didn’t completely understand him all the time yet, you’d come to learn the most important words. You never actually did give him a response though. Just a long, sultry whine.

He chuckled breathlessly at you. Where you two meet, there’s a wet stickiness, one that would feel icky to you if you were mentally present. Everything was red. Ass, cheeks, and both your lips. Your throat would be too, but König just cannot get over how much bigger he is than you, and he has yet to comply because of the thought of it being too hard and genuinely hurting. Even if you had a nonverbal safe code.

But once it seemed your body shut down completely for his use, he couldn’t deny the primal urge to ruin you while he could. He had time to be upset over his lack of self control later. One hand of his could almost wrap under both knees, but he uses two anyway, effectively rolling you upwards and folding you in half. He slid himself back in once up on his haunches.

Your knees were now located at your breasts with his arms encasing you to cradle your face in his hands. It was a large contrast to the way he was plowing into the perfect spot, balls deep inside you, making your sounds louder and much more luscious. Even if you wanted to move your legs, or anything else for that matter, the only thing that could really move were your feet, while everything else was held strong against the bed or stuck by his massive body.

Your fingers wrap around his wrists coming in as he gazed into you with an expression that screams “look at me.”

[slices-of-naranja]

I desperately need to organize my thoughts but if I don’t get this out now I will forget it, so take some vague circular incoherent ramblings about Jason motherfucking Grace.

Jason Grace has this weird kind bluntness about him that I desperately need to study. He’s so normal in a fucked up way. Almost regular. Almost an Average Kid. Brutally honest and kind and pragmatic. He wakes up on a bus with no memory, holding hands with a girl, and he’s immediately like “What the fuck. Who are you people. Where am I. Who am I?” Doesn’t even try to play along to figure out what’s happening.

One of the first things he says to Leo is “You’re weird.” Just “You’re weird.”

Jason is judgy as fuck!! Like!! Such a judgmental motherfucker!!! “If Leo is his best friend, then his life is seriously messed up.” Like!!! What the fuck!!! Be nicer to the man you fall madly in love with!!!

He sees Mean Kid (monster) Dylan and immediately goes “fuck that dude.” (“Jason hated him instantly.”) He even mentally makes fun of the guy’s outfit!!! And he roasts the shit out of Dylan’s fucking shiny ass teeth!! He sees two girls being mean to Piper and he literally, despite not knowing where he is or why he’s there, tries to fight them!! And Leo is the only thing holding him back from immediately throwing hands!!

Mr. “I can’t even take Leo out for burgers bc he’ll set the restaurant on fire.” After the 1 (one) time Leo gets too excited and bursts into flame. (Leo not being able to control his powers as a consequence of finally starting to use them after years of repression is something i WILL be talking about another time)

Jason is a judgy, brutally honest bitch. Like, he’s kind and good natured and strong. But years of being raised by wolves, strict deadly Romans, and being praetor have made him a little bit harsh. Rough around the edges. Just a bit off. This is the dude who was like “hm. Yeah I know Nico’s ur boy but… world is ending. So.” He’s been raised to be pragmatic. Make snap judgements. Be harsh. Be deadly. Like, reading his PoV is so different from the fandom characterization.

Jason is wittier, snappier, and wayyy more regular teenage boyish than I thought. He just has that Roman Demigod Edge to him… the part of him that was trained to scream “MONSTERS! MIST! MAGIC! DANGER!!!” even when he had no memory. I need to study this boy so badly. He’s fucking fascinating.

Bc for all his judgement, he grows so quickly attached to people. Like, it doesn’t take long for him to be fiercely loyal to Piper and Leo and Camp Halfblood. I think that’s because they accepted and loved an imperfect him, and while Expectations were still there, expectations he’s been haunted by his whole life, they’re lesser. Bc Piper and Leo don’t know shit fuck about the mythical world. And the rest of the seven are just as strong and capable as Jason, so he has no need to lead. I don’t know. Jason Grace drives me crazy. Marching to his destiny like a good little soldier. No other options for a son of Jupiter. Have to be strongest, have to be praetor, have to lead a legion-

He loves Nico like a best friend. He adores and admires Leo’s wit and talent and smarts, something that is mentioned a lot in his POV. (While also pointing out Leo’s bullshit.) He envies and admires Percy’s strength. He loves Piper’s brashness and heart. He loves them all. I don’t know. He’s quick to judge but he’s even quicker to change his mind. I forgot where I was going with this. Jason Grace has always been a hero at heart and a soldier since age 4 and I think that’s why some people think he’s boring. He’s trained to be serious and stuff. We don’t get to see him goof around very much, except for with Leo, and Leo does most of the goofs. And I would love to know who Jason Grace, judgmental pragmatic kindhearted bitch, would be if he just got to be a regular teenager.

And I think that’s why he loved camp Halfblood. It gave him half a chance at being half normal. What’s one more big three kid? There’s no strict orders or rules to follow or shape him there. But unfortunately, Jason, hero at heart, soldier since age 4, trained to be selfless, trained to give everything up for the greater good, was never going to get a happy ending. Never get a chance at what Percy Jackson found. Being a demigod kills people. And Jason was one from birth, to his very core.

I think part of him would be relieved, at that. Knowing that Percy Jackson, hero with a happy ending, is someone he will never be. Never overcome or surpass. Yeah, it’s the exact reason they’re rivals, too similar to not be compared, yeah it hurts his pride and goes against everything he was raised to be, and yeah he’s had a few silent breakdowns over it, but there’s relief in knowing he’d never win. Being in Percy’s shadow at Camp Halfblood means he can be out of the spotlight. Die a hero’s death while knowing there is no other option. There’s peace in that.

Anyway New Rome represents heteronormativity and Camp Halfblood is Jason figuring out he’s gay. I will not take criticism.

[minhosimthings]

Good Girl: A Heeseung smut drabble

Pairings: Heeseung × Virgin!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, oral (both recieving and giving), swearing, Reader is heavily referred to as 'good girl' MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: I don't know where this drabble came from I definitely did not write it at one am in the morning it's just magic. But it's not entirely my fault! Blame @heeliopheelia (who I hope doesn't mind me tagging her) for encouraging me! Also dis marks my third smut work and my second one for Enha after my Jay drabble. so yay milestone I guess. I SWEAR I'LL WORK ON THE HYUNJIN FIC LATER

And yet again, the amazing playboy Lee Heeseung had convinced another girl to let him take her virginity. Except this time it was a girl whom he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with instead of just some dumb one night stand. He had asked you, very gently if you wanted to do the deed one day, and he was pleasantly surprised to find out you were 'pure' in his terms. To say that he was excited was an understatement. Oh he was escstatic when you told him that you wanted to do it. So you let him take it. Take the only thing you've had for your entire life. Your 'pureness', in his words.

"Lay down for me baby." Heeseung gently put you down on the bed after carrying you from the couch, even though you insisted you could just walk up. But Heeseung wouldn't ever give his princess anything less than princess treatment, so there was no budging there.

"Oh wow are those-?" Heeseung stared down at your waist, which was bejeweled with the baby pink lingerie he had gotten you last week as a gift for getting through the week without having a mental breakdown. "I-I thought you'd like it." You stuttered out to him, at which point Heeseung melted into a puddle, seeing his good girl be so fucking innocent for him. "Take off your bra for me please baby." He said as he grinded his hardened cock against the soft silk of your panties. You took off the bra without hesitation and grabbed his hair as he lightly squeezed your exposed tits, bending down to your ear. "We're gonna try something new today, ok baby?" You let out a silent mewl in response to his pretty voice whispering in your ears. He started leaving a trail of wet kisses, beginning from your collarbone all the way down to your hip. "Hee- Hee what are you doing?" You asked, trying to keep your moans in. "Don't worry babe." He smirked up at you. "You'll enjoy this. Just try not to moan so much alright? Don't want the neighbours to know what we're doing do we?" You could only whine in response as Heeseung grabbed the elastic of your panties and ripped them off with his teeth, making your legs shiver, which in turn made Heeseung's cock hard, as to how his innocent girl didn't know what he was about to do. "Hee- Heeseung wha- Oh fuck!" Whatever Heeseung had done to your pussy with those pretty little lips of his was enough to make you scream out in pleasure. The grip on your lilac bedsheets tightened as Heeseung gave kitten kisses to your squirming pussy. "Do you like that baby?" Heeseung smirked up at you. "Does my good girl want this more?" "Heeseung- ngh- please!" You moaned at him, tightening your legs around his head, making him moan with you. He attacked your cunt again with his tongue this time, sweeping fast between your folds, only making you moan louder. Heeseung was in heaven, stuck in the ever tightening grip between your gorgeous legs. He slowly drank up your juices, as you whined, loosening your grip on his hair, now that he had slowed down a bit.

"The way this pussy tastes-" Heeseung panted, wiping his mouth and rising to your level' "-makes me think you aren't really my good girl. Are you my good girl baby?" He had stopped eating you out, like a madman and was now taunting you. If there was one thing Lee Heeseung craved for, it was seeing his good little girl's eyes roll to the back of her pretty head and for incoherent words to stumble out of her pretty mouth. "Want-to be-your good girl Seungie." You mumbled, not having anything in your orgasm-drunk brain except for your boyfriend's (read: future husband) beautiful face dangling above yours.

"Do you want to give your daddy pleasure baby?" He shot you that hot smirk again. "Do you want to pay him back?" "I-I don-dont know how to, daddy." You whimpered, widening your eyes. So fucking innocent, Heeseung internally laughed.

"It's alright baby." He stroked your hair gently and kissed your forehead before plopping onto the bed next to you. "I'll teach you. Get on top of me first." You obeyed his commands, like a lamb obeying a wolf, and swiftly got on top of him, while he took off his belt. You tried not to stare at his cock as he slowly removed his tight fit jeans, and cupped your face in his hands, taking in the way you gently stroked his abs.

"Now-" he growled as you bent down to his mouth. "bend down to my cock and put it in that cute mouth of yours." "Wha-" "Do it." He commanded once again, voice firm and strict and unlike the babying one he usually used with his good girl.

"Now suck my dick baby just like the good girl you always were." Heeseung spread his legs far apart as you shivered a bit and gripped onto the bedsheets.

"Oh fuck baby." Heeseung softly moaned as you lightly kissed his hardening cock. "Ahh fuck ahh shit." Heeseung pulled your hair ever so slightly and shoved your head deeper in almost choking you. Choking kink came in handy right? "You sure you haven't done this before?" Heeseung chuckled and moaned again, tightening his legs around you. You could get intoxicated on the noises coming out of his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat and his hands pulling your hair roughly. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum" Heeseung voice rang out. "Take my cum baby. Swallow my cum like a good girl. That's all you are aren't you? My good girl. My good little girl." Heeseung let out a gasp, as you licked up his juices, and kissed his cock again and again, too drunk on everything happening. All you could see was Heeseung's pleasured face, praising you, and then you were lost in your cock-drunk limbo.

And the night faded away just like that as Heeseung got the best head of his life, as payment for giving you, something that you will beg for again In the coming days. Beg, like a pathetic good girl.

[kaitaiga]

Archie “Frost” Campbell Profile

》[Open Profile] Disclaimer: as I’m still working through the lore of Task Force Dagger, Archie’s biography is still quite bare. Everything else is finished :)

General

Name: Archibald (Archie) Charles Campbell

Callsign: Frost

Age: 29

Birthday: 16th November, 1995 -  Newcastle, NSW, Australia.

Face Claim: Callum Turner

Occupation: Fast Jet Pilot (F-35A Lightning II)

Affiliation: Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF - 75th SQN)

Rank: Flight Lieutenant (FLTLT)

Height: 183cm (6ft)

Education: Bachelor’s Degree in Aviation

Languages: English, Spanish, German

Appearance

Hair: Dark brown, wavy hair. Short back and sides.

Eye Colour: Grey

Facial Hair: Pencil moustache

Marks: None

Tattoos: None

Family 

Unnamed Mother and Father

Grandfather (Former RAAF 460 SQN)

Pet: Vader (Black cat with white markings on face)

Affiliates

Task Force Dagger

Captain Lachlan Jones (2CDO)

Sergeant Damien Whitlock (2CDO)

Sergeant Daniel Greenhill (2CDO)

Sergeant Joseph “Joey” Hernandez (CCT)

Talullah Jones (ASIS)

Personality

Myers-Briggs Type: ISTJ (Logistician)

Honest and Direct: Archie is a straightforward, no-bullshit kind of person. Will tell his peers how it is without holding back. 

Observer: Not one to talk much unless needed, Archie prefers to observe and analyse his peers or situation.

Archie is a level-headed person. He is calm and is able to keep his cool under difficult situations.

Archie doesn’t let his emotions drive his thought process. He is a logical person who bases his thoughts and opinions based on research and experience, and can become stubborn when he doesn’t particularly agree with something.

Skills

As a fighter pilot, Archie has inherited a range of skills apart from simply flying a fighter jet. There include:

Mental Skills: quick and accurate decisions, situational awareness.

Technical Skills: navigation, avionics, flight system and weapon proficiency.

Social Skills: effective communication, cooperation and working as a team, leadership.

Air Combat Manoeuvring (ACM), Fighter tactics and manoeuvres, etc.

Mission Planning

Maths and Physics, as well as creativity in situations.

Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape (SERE)

Archie also likes to partake in electrical work, commonly seen tinkering with devices and studying mechanical/electrical engineering concepts in his spare time.

Behind the Callsign

At a glance, “Frost” derives from his frosty attitude towards his peers around him. Being one to keep to himself majority of the time and only speaking when necessary, his attitude was often perceived as cold to others, even when he didn't mean it.

Though if you were to ask his squadron and ground crew, they’d tell you that they call him “Frost” due to his impressive flying skills, often leaving onlookers and other pilots frozen in awe. Almost like an advantage over opponents.

Biography

Archie was born in Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia on the 16th of November, 1995. Growing up, Archie would listen to his grandfather’s stories of being a pilot on an Avro Lancaster throughout the majority of WW2. Though a little incoherent at times, Archie still enjoyed them regardless as they shaped his childhood and future to come.

Throughout high school, Archie would spend a lot of time volunteering at an aviation museum alongside his grandfather as a technician assistant, working on maintaining planes on display whilst rambling bits of information of various planes to visitors. Archie would also frequent RAAF base Williamtown, where he would stand just outside the base and watch Super Hornets scream over his head. He wasn’t the type to stand out among his classmates, much preferring to stick his head in a book and soak up as much information as he could on various aviation and engineering topics. He graduated with a top ATAR score of 97.

Thanks to his constant exposure to the Air Force along with his grandfather’s stories, Archie knew he wanted to become a fighter pilot from an early age. In his later years of high school and after, he worked diligently preparing for multiple officer and screening boards during his application process. He managed to score one of five spots out of hundreds of applicants.

Archie then attended the Australian Defence Force Academy (ADFA), where he pursued a Bachelor’s degree in Aviation. He would be a maths tutor to a few of his peers in his spare time, but most commonly Joseph, his newly made friend who he bonded with over their love for Star Wars. 

Upon graduating ADFA, Archie was sent to Perth to begin his initial specialist employment pilot training (ISET), where he spent a year flying the PC-21. He graduated from Number 2 Flying Training School and was recommended by his instructors to pilot the newly introduced and mighty F-35A.

Now part of 75th Squadron, Archie is posted to RAAF base Tindal in the Northern Territory to continue his training, also managing to deploy overseas to various locations such as the US and Japan.

At some point, Archie was approached and recruited into Task Force Dagger on recommendation from Joseph. Working with TFD would show him his first set of real combat outside of simulations and practice exercises. To be continued…

*(Archie would have been 26 years old when the F-35A was first introduced into the 75th SQN, a few years after he graduated ISET (22-23 years old). For story purposes, assume the F-35 arrived earlier.)

Trivia/Preferences 

His favourite music band is Daft Punk. His favourite song from them is ‘Face to Face’. Also likes Coldplay, Kenny Loggins, Phil Collins, Foo Fighters, Linkin Park, etc.

In his spare time, he also likes to build lego sets and model jets. He’s also a gamer, preferring to play games like Arma 3, League of Legends, Cyberpunk 2077, Helldivers 2, etc.

He likes to wear Rayban Aviators in the colourway black/black or gold/green.

He is a big fan of Star Wars. His favourite movie is ‘A New Hope’ and he also really enjoys ‘Star Wars: The Clone Wars’. His favourite characters are Wedge Antilles and Commander Wolffe.

He likes to spoil Vader rotten! Buys him all kinds of toys. Even has a Death Star cat house. He has a really big soft spot for Vader which Joseph likes to tease him about, quote: “he is the only one to knock down that icy wall he’s built around himself.”

When Archie chose his aircraft preference, he originally chose the F/A-18F Super Hornet.

If he didn’t become a pilot, he’d become a mechanical engineer. 

After his grandfather passed, Archie carries his ID tags with him as a source of comfort and support. 

Archie was inspired by the character ‘Viper’ from Titanfall 2 and the song “Dodge This”.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

since yves is like mega old and has lived through two possibly three centuries is there a chance he might outlive reader? he pretty much watches reader wither away with age until they’re taken by death meanwhile yves stays looking youthful the whole time. or does he slowly change reader’s biology overtime to become more like his, never aging and always full of young energy. i feel like it’s something he might do but also be hesitant on as being alive for such a time can have a mental toll on someone and that’s probably something he doesn’t want reader to go through. but i doubt he wants to live without reader as well.

Another Anon Asked: So what's gonna happen when Yves's s/o grows older and notices that he's not aging? Will he still keep his story a secret?

Tw: dementia, prolonged existence despite suffering, mentions of euthanasia

His database should contain the information on whether you have the prerequisites to potentially live as old as him and not have your mind deteriorate into nothingness. He would know if you're the right person to divulge his secrets to, or manipulate in such a way that you will never notice him staying youthful even after four to five decades, Yves would know if living longer than the average human lifespan is something that you would want, even if you didn't or did want it now.

And he knows, death is almost always the most merciful option on a human's soul. He remembered what it was like. He knows how it is like to be himself, and it isn't a blissful way to live at all. Most likely, Yves will have you learn how to walk on a four-legged walker, talk to you every day despite having the same exact conversation a mere hour ago, cleaning you up when you couldn't do it yourself anymore, ensuring your diaper isn't giving you a rash and spoonfeeding you each liquid meal for hours.

Don't think he isn't hurting under that stoic facade. The nerves in your eyes and skin aren't functional enough to feel the tears drip down while he sings to you. Your ears aren't picking up the small, but extremely unusual wavers and chokes in his soothing voice. Your mind couldn't register the amount of time passed being in Yves's arms as he cradled you, not once did you wonder when he found the time to eat, drink, or sleep.

Like you, Yves ages. But not quite the same as how you do. His control over his own emotions will falter, his logic will fail, and become more and more outrageously human.

Yes, he knows euthanasia is the most cogent and logical course of action. It is the most humane; putting you out of your misery and letting you rest in peace forever. But Yves can't. Even when you wake up struggling and screaming in terror, imprisoned in your own biological hell as you try to make heads or tails of your situation. However, your mind is too far gone to achieve such a simple task of understanding you are safe, you are home. Yves just can't bring himself to give you that mercy, he is too selfish to.

There was only so much he could do, and he did everything he could to delay the inevitable. Curse the world for not finding a cure to this wretched disease, curse the world for not putting enough effort into researching this calamity, curse your biology for tormenting you like this, curse himself for not preparing for this sooner, but that doesn't change anything. Yves doesn't know what he hasn't discovered yet and time is so precious, so unrenewable.

Very few things in this realm terrify Yves. Your confused and fear-stricken face as you tell him over and over again that you don't know where you are, scares him. It truly does, but he cannot show it. He made this decision against his own judgment, after all. The least he could do is to be brave and assure you that you are loved and cared for no matter what. He finds it endearing that you think he is facing the same circumstance as yours, giving him words of support, albeit incoherently, as you wipe away his tears of sorrow. You thought that he was also as lost and disorientated. In many ways, yes, Yves is also lost.

Even when you're demented, he still can predict that you were going to do that. It's the same as always, the only difference is that he cannot cure it. He cannot bend realities out of this one, because he is unable to bend your reality. Yves can only provide forecasts of it.

He is torn. Yves is directly hurting you by not letting you die, but he can't let go. He promised though, that you will not turn into an everlasting lowlife like him, but he couldn't bear to shorten your lifespan when he knows you could live past a hundred with the right care, attention, and equipment.

Yves maintains his sanity by turning to his beliefs, he has to; for your sake and his. He gently rocks back and forth, hushing you to sleep as he tenderly brushes strands of grey and white away.

Yves pressed a kiss on your forehead, whispering ardent apologies and remorse into your ear. You're far too unconscious, far too gone to register them, but Yves does it anyway, evidencing the decline of his rationality.

Yves prays and begs fervently that you will find it in your heart to forgive him one day. That is all he asks of you.

[ohwormwood]

random thoughts i have while playing isat pt. 7

[woe, spoilers be upon ye!]

opened the game and immediately went "im gonna make odile question my sanity!!!" but of course when i enter the house Siffrin decides to turn the scripted tutorial enemy into bean paste and ruins the run--

anyways. this panel will haunt me

i. i dont even know how but. I beat the king without him ever getting a chance to make his first attack. i just kept spamming slow and two jackpots later he was dead. i didn't even knoiw that was possible.

after a bit of fucking around i decided that i was gonna move on to act 5 and promptly burst into tears

update: i accidentally posted this too early dont look at me

sat and cried through the entirety of the party's interactions in act 5

screaming crying throwing up

even the king took one look at this dude and was like "are you good man like, you can take a rest before we do this you're literally about to topple over"

that post where odile says the oven copypasta during the mal du pays scene has permanently altered my brain and i literally laughed out loud when this line appeared

i haven't talked about it before but. a while ago i made a concept for a game based off the backrooms and omori, and odile talking about someone who is forgotten may not exist is the basis for the entire game's plot, it makes me want to go back and flesh it out a bit more!!!

i am deadset on the idea of making an edit with mirabelle's reflection craft but it's an uno reverse card

simultaneously in my brain: an edit where the sound mirabelle's reflection craft makes is the metal pipe meme

i am. such a fucking sucker for sickfics. i cannot get enough of them. act 5 has enough sickfic tropes to make a million spinoff fics on its own, it brings me life and i love it dearly

wailing

this line sends me into orbit every time i see it

odile attacking siffrin. hurts so, so so badly on an emotional level for me. Because like??? i get it. i get it and it sucks and she obviously doesn't want to, but she's scared. But siffrin is even more scared in that moment, and the immediate association of that pain with being hated by odile hurts me so much.

YEAHHHH ODILE GIRLBOSS SUPREME

they're so soft and squishy and cute in this image i c a n t

incoherent WAILING. this. this image. this image just about broke me. THEYRE SO HAPPY and RELIEVED, IT HURTS,,,

the tone shift to talking to the party afterwords is still so funny to me HJBDFBSBFH like lookit him. hes so smol. so silly.

we're kidnapping bonnie guys it's official

my honest reaction to this line: LESBIANS??????

and then she hits me with:

AND I LOST IT

more silly guy siffrin,,,,, my favorite

aaaa aAAAAAAAAAAA

ISABEAU'S SPRITE CHANGING TO BE DOING A HAPPY DANCE AFTER THE CONFESSION IS SOOOOO CUTE WAAA

bonnie and odile clapping for isabeau confessing will never not be funny but ALSO it implies the bonnie knew about Isa's crush. and i for one personally believe that they picked up on it from Odile's relentless teasing of Isabeau as the #1 Isafrin shipper

mirabelle: wait you had a crush on sif?????? and i didn't know????

my roommate, who is ace: this is the aroace experience for real,,,

literally all of the second interactions with Isabeau had me and my roommate SCREAMING

HOWLING LAUGHING

OK I NEVER KNEW???? THAT SIFFRIN TOLD ISABEAU ABOUT THE BAD TOUCH EVENT?????? IN CANON???? I ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT WAS A FANON THING BUT THEY ACTUALLY ADDRESS IT IN GAME AND???? ISA'S REACTION HAD ME ON THE FLOOR

siffrin: i kissed you once,,,,

isa:

the words "im being perfectly normal about this" is something i say on a daily basis so i relate to this wholeheartedly

AYO???????? ISA WHEN DID YOU BECOME SO SMOOTH????

this. this image. made my jaw hit the GODDAMN FLOOR. I WAS NOT MENTALLY PREPARED FOR IT AT ALL AND BOTH ME AND MY ROOMMATE S C R E A M E D WHEN WE SAW IT

LIKE???? HOLY FUCK SIF JESUSSSSSSSSSSS CHRIST???? how did isabeau not implode on the spot from that look bro howwwwwwwwwww

AND THEN. AS IF THAT WASN'T ENOUGH TO MAKE MY HEART START SOBBING. ISA BLOWS YOU A KISS???? AAAA???

annnnd scene!

i will continue playing to get some of the different loop endings and i totally plan on doing two hats in the future!!! so im not quite done with this game yet i just got impatient in act 4 and i needed the Emotional Catharsis of Act 5

[after-witch]

Break Up [Uvogin x Reader]

Title: Break Up [Uvogin x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Uvogin. It was not the most well-thought out idea you’ve ever had.

Word count: 1000ish

notes: abusive relationship, violence, torture, descriptions of death/dying (not reader)

The sound of your boyfriend’s leg breaking was sickening. The unmistakable snap, the crackling sound of bone being splintered.

But it was his scream, hoarse and raw and pained, that made acidic bile rise in your throat. You didn’t throw up, because you had nothing left in you. You’d already thrown up when Uvogin had begun breaking his fingers, one by one, grinning thinly with satisfaction as he did so.

“Did you touch her with these fingers?” Uvo had asked. 

And he had, and so Uvo broke those familiar fingers. Slowly. Methodically. Before moving on to other parts to hurt. Other parts to break and bend. 

And you watched, frozen to the sofa. You weren’t tied up. Uvo didn’t bother. His presence was strong enough to keep you rooted to the spot. A glance at your trembling legs was enough to make you swear off trying to run.

Your boyfriend’s screams from his broken leg trailed off into terrible moans, into incoherent pleas for mercy, and you pulled your arms tight across your chest.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.

And it was all because of Uvogin.

--

White hot fury flushed through your chest and made your arms tremble wildly, despite your desire to keep them steady. To keep yourself steady. 

“I can’t believe… I can’t believe you did this. Do this. I can’t believe--” 

You gestured with your arms at nothing in particular, hoping it would somehow convey what you meant. You can’t believe Uvogin was a fucking murderer. A serial murderer. A notorious murderer, or at least, part of some notorious black market underground group. The kind you didn’t even want to ask around about, because it would certainly make it to the wrong ears, and you might wind up dead. 

And how stupid were you, not to see the signs? His incredible strength was one thing. It wasn’t like there was a shortage of fantastically strong fighters, especially in the big cities. But his evasiveness… you should have known. You should have seen. You should have never gotten involved with him.

Uvogin scratched his ear at your impassioned words, and the absolute nonchalance in his expression only made anger bloom harder. 

“What? Like you would have dated me if you knew? Besides, it’s not exactly smart to advertise my type of business around. You could get hurt.”

An unbelieving snort makes your chest jerk. “Oh, like I’m not hurt now? Like this isn’t completely fucked up now?”

He raised one eyebrow and looked at you with a little bit of annoyance. “Do you have to shout? I don’t see what you’re so worked up about.”

“You kill people, Uvo.” The words came flying out, spit sailing with them. He didn’t even react. He might as well have shrugged and said, “Oh well.” 

And with that, you made your decision. 

“I can’t do this.” You shook your head, and you didn’t know if it was a deliberate act or if your body was reacting out of shock and fear and fury. “I’m going to pack a bag, just my stuff, you can keep whatever you want. But I can’t do this. I’m done. We’re done.”

You began walking towards your shared bedroom, mentally rushing through what essentials you could shove into your backpack, when Uvo stood up. 

“Babe.”

The way he said it made you stop walking. You don’t know why, or how, but it did. Something in the lowness of it, the firmness, it was like a primal reaction to a threat that was subconscious rather than verbally given. Like the feeling of a predator watching you, hidden, in the woods.

“You don’t want to do that.” 

Tears were in your eyes as you looked at him.

“But I do.” 

--

You should have known he wouldn’t just let you go. You should have known that he would hunt you down, and destroy the happiness you’d built up with someone else. And maybe your new boyfriend wasn’t some outrageously strong man with a mysterious past. Maybe he was just an ordinary bank teller who wore suits to work and hated spicy food. But he wasn’t a fucking murderer, and that, as far as you were concerned, made him an automatic step up.

He wasn’t much of anything now. 

Uvogin had finally had enough of the torture, it seemed, because he was now straddling the man. He pressed his knee against your boyfriend’s neck and there wasn’t much sound now. Only strangled gasps. Your boyfriend couldn’t even claw at Uvogin as he was slowly strangled, because of the broken arms and fingers. 

You closed your eyes as tight as you could and waited for him to do. Because you were next. Surely, you were next. 

It was some time before you heard Uvogin stand up and walk towards the couch. When you sensed his presence, you opened your eyes, not wanting to--but needing to, all the same.

He was staring down at you, eyes lidded, mouth pressed in a frown.

“Just do it quick, please,” you said, almost whimpering. Your throat hurt from throwing up. And crying. And screams, too, your own had mingled with your boyfriend’s during the last moments. “At least give me that. Just--just kill me as quick as you can.”

You waited for death. You hoped it would be fast and merciful. 

Uvo raised his eyebrows. And then he threw his head back and laughed, a short, quick barking sound.

“Babe, what? You think I’m going to kill you? I knew you were naive, but I didn’t think you were stupid.” 

You stared at him blankly. The mangled corpse of your boyfriend was behind him on the floor, his mouth gaping, eyes bulging. 

“I don’t understand.” And you didn’t. None of it. Not why this had happened, not what Uvogin just told you. Not what was going to happen in the future.

Uvo reached down and scooped you up into his arms like you were a doll. It was easy enough, with his size and with his strength. The familiar feeling of his arms around you, the familiar sensation of being carried like you weighed nothing, was in turns nostalgic and terrifying. 

“Listen, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have let you go that night. But, hey, we all make mistakes.” He glanced at the corpse of your boyfriend. “Some bigger than others. But I’m not offended. We can start all over now.” 

“But he didn’t deserve--” you started, a pitiful whine, and Uvogin hushed you.

“Hey, he got what’s coming to him. And now I’m taking back what’s mine. Fair and square.” 

Your limbs felt ice-cold as he began carrying you out of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Dead boyfriend. 

“But what about me?” You whispered.

Uvogin didn’t answer. 

[gyumibear]

💖 create a sim(p)! — 18: friends?

synopsis — after stupidly claiming on stream that you’ve been dating popular youtuber choi beomgyu in secret after accidentally creating an identically looking sim, you beg him not to reveal your lie to the public when it goes viral. weirdly, he agrees and you two begin to fool the public. can your lie become the truth or will it eventually catch up with you?

prev / masterlist / next

a/n — back with another written chapter! but this time it’s gyu’s pov! (wc: ~1k) as for warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, mentions of pineapple pizza(😭) and beomgyu having an internal crisis throughout the whole thing!

“What’s up?” Beomgyu greeted, walking smoothly into your room.

“Sit. We have much to discuss.” You ordered.

He plopped himself down in the bean bag chair.

“First order of business, my mandatory freak out.”

Beomgyu looked at you confused. His expression only amplified into one of abject horror when you, without further explanation, started screaming incoherently into your pillows. Your arms flailing wildly, you let out all your grievances and curses while Beomgyu watched on in silence, unsure whether to flee or comfort.

After you tired yourself out, you lifted your head, your neutral expression returned to your face. Beomgyu was relieved you were done screaming, given he had just become super concerned about you. Friends worry about friends right? He thought, thinking back to his conversation with Keeho and the others. Yeah, but you can also worry about someone you’re interested in. What the hell- now is NOT the time to be worried about that.

“Are you okay?” He asked quickly, desperate to clear his thoughts from his mind. “That was… unexpected.”

“I told you beforehand I was going to have a mandatory freak out. Be grateful I had the sense to not scream without the muffler.” You barked, absolutely no bite attached. Beomgyu shrugged, deciding to let you have that.

Wait, am I just doing that because I like-

“Second order of business!” You clapped your hands, snapping Beomgyu out of his mind. “We need to figure out how to address the thread.”

“Would it be crazy for me to say…” Beomgyu started, unsure how his next words would go, “I don’t think we should address it all?”

“Why would we not?!”

“Listen… It’s just giving that person what they want: attention. Nobody else was agreeing with them, so it’s not like we have much to worry about.”

“Not yet! But what if people start reading deeper into everything we do? Then we’re in deep shit.”

“You’re in deep shit.” He corrected without much thought, immediately facepalming himself for two reasons.

One, that was an asshole thing to say. And two, the way your face immediately fell made him feel like crap.

“Oh yeah… I forgot…” You whispered softly, more to yourself than out loud.

“No no, wait.” He didn’t like that expression on your face. “I didn’t mean that. Slip of the tongue. You’re right. It’s our problem, and we should fix it together.”

Friends don’t leave friends to drown. Even if said friend is in this situation because of their own stupid, idiotic actions.

“Yeah…” You nodded before looking away.

Now, it was like a wall was between the two of you. Beomgyu felt kinda bad. This whole time you had been trying to be nice to him and build a friendship, but he only gave you half-hearted reactions and treatment. Sure, you had probably only done it so that your fake relationship would look realer, but still… You were trying so hard… And he wasn’t trying enough.

No wonder he was so confused about whether he liked you as a friend or partner. Fake dating really is a terrible idea.

“Hey, why don’t we stream again? Like nothing happened, and if someone asks we can shut it down there?” He suggested, wanting to fill the silence and show you he cared at the same time.

“That could work… What should we say?”

“Pretty much that that person is reaching. It’s simple, to the point and we don’t have to make anything up.” Beomgyu made a mental note to also make a tweet condemning any of his fans for spewing hate about you. “How about that?”

“Sounds good to me. When should we do this?”

“Yeonjun actually wanted to be in one of my vlogs, so we can meet up with him tomorrow? Hang out and then record? Two birds with one stone…”

“Yeonjun…?”

“My best friend.”

“Ah… Wait, you brought your friend with you? What, you thought I was gonna murder you or something?”

“He had to shoot!” Beomgyu defended, “And to be fair, he was the one that thought you’d murder me. I trust you.”

“Oh really?” You looked surprised.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu smirked mischievously, “Trust that you wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything. You have no chance against me.”

“What?! I’d totally kick your butt if I wanted to!”

“Sure.” He dragged out the last syllable, making it extremely clear that he was being sarcastic.

“You know what? Let’s go! Right now!”

“No thanks, I don’t wanna have to explain to Yeonjun why we have to flee back to Korea before I get arrested.”

“You are not funny!”

The way you guys could playfully banter like this was making Beomgyu even more confused. He enjoyed your company, which was normal for friends… But he couldn’t help but think you were so attractive the way you shook your fist at him. It’s not like he wanted to kiss you. Or did he? Do friends kiss? God, he sounded like a loser right now.

Maybe he should text his friends again…

If Taehyun was here he’d probably set Beomgyu straight. But Taehyun would also drag him for every decision he’s ever made and then call him dumb. Jake was unhelpful for things like this, given he was a prime example of what not to do in relationships. Yeonjun was helpful… when he was available. Which wasn’t often. He was probably out right now. Keeho? He was pretty normal and pretty helpful too… But, he was addicted to being in people’s business and getting himself involved with both sides of the party...He did not want Keeho to start talking to you.

Maybe he should just take a nap.

“Fine, fine, you win.”

“Damn right I do!” You grinned, laying on your back to look up at your bare ceiling. “So… What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“Pizza?”

“Yes! Can we get it with pineapples?”

“No? What monster eats pizza with pineapples?”

“I’ll have you know me and NingNing adore pineapple pizza.”

“WHO??”

“Oh! That’s what I call Kai.”

“Oh. I thought you had an imaginary friend or something…Anyways… No pineapple on the pizza.”

“Darn.”

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites.

[kitkatscabinet]

Kinktober - 05 Pegging/Degradation/Overstimulation

Kyle Garrick x reader

His pretty moans filled the room, accentuated by the squelching and skin slapping. Kyle’s back shone with sweat that cascaded down onto the sheets below. One of your hands pressed firmly onto the back of his neck, thumb rubbing over the hammering of his pulse.

You were incredibly irritated and it was showing in your treatment of your precious partner. It wasn’t often that you found yourself so worked up like this, but tonight you couldn’t help yourself.

Kyle was stunning, one of the most beautiful men you’d ever laid eyes on. And whenever he was out in public it was clear many people shared your opinion.

Usually, you wouldn’t mind, you’d even be smugly proud, curling your hand around his bicep and watching the jealous stares. Kyle was loyal too, never gave anyone else the time of day, his pretty brown eyes reserved for looking at only you.

Tonight, however, when he’d been dressed in his blues for some military ball he’d been forced into, more than a few women had tried their hand.

Kyle had snubbed them all without any thought, but there had been one woman. One fucking bitch that just wouldn’t give up, even when Kyle was clearly not interested. You’d been forced to intervene and pull the shameless whore off him yourself. It had then been Kyles’s turn to intervene in order to prevent you from spending the night in jail.

Completely done with the night, your perfect boyfriend had let you pull him home early, rubbing comforting circles into your skin as he tried to calm you down. You weren’t angry with Kyle, but luckily for you, he was always more than willing to bear the brunt of your ire.

“Could she fuck you like this?” You snarl, increasing the pressure of your hand on the back of his neck in a domineering grip, pushing his face even deeper into the mattress. Leaning over his back, you sink your teeth into the skin of his shoulder. 

“Make you whine like the slut you are?” your whispered words are punctuated by another bite to the skin beneath his ear. He shudders beneath you, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his mouth opens in a soundless moan. 

“Well? Answer me Garrick” you snarl, never once letting up on your harsh rhythm. 

“Nooo,” he pants, all of his mental energy focused towards answering you. After all, he knows better than to ignore a command from you. “Only you. S’all for you.” His answer does little to stoke the burning fire in your chest, instead egging you on with victorious satisfaction. 

You decide he deserves a reward for his honesty, snaking your hand around his front you finally grasp his aching cock in your hand. In comparison to your brutal thrusts, the grip of your hand is slow and lethargic

You’ve barley touched him before he’s letting out a wounded moan, arms failing to hold himself up as he paints his stomach and the sheets below with ropes of cum. 

“You dirty whore, did I say you could cum?” You growl, speeding your thrusts up even more, refusing to relent in your pace. 

“M’sorry, S’too much.” He slurred reedily, chest gasping for as he tried to catch his breath. 

“I don’t care. You can take it. You can and you will.” You demand, pushing him to lie flat, trapping his spent cock between his stomach and the soaked sheets. Below you Kyle is drooling into the pillow, an incoherent mess, his pretty brown eyes filled with watery tears. 

Instinctively he attempted to pull away, to gain a slight reprieve. Unfortunately for him, there was nowhere to escape, his limp body moving up and down the mattress in time with your thrusts. You coo soothing words into the skin of his back between harsh bites and gentle licks. 

“Come on baby, give me one more, can you do that for me?” He doesn’t manage a verbal answer, his vocal chores too strained from screaming out the pleasure you’ve forced on him, but he does nod furiously, and its all the answer you need to keep going. 

He was always such a good boy for you, he deserved a reward.

[ughgoaway]

How do you think the parent-teacher conference would go?

okay yes I have been thinking about this since i originally thought of this au

(Also, quick psa- these are never proofread, so if they are incoherent/ littered with spelling errors...shhh)

I can see matty getting the email through about parents evening and just PRAYING it's with you. Annie has two teachers (bc fuck having a class of 30 kids on your own are you mad) and he thought it might be with the other one. who is fine, she's an older woman and is very lovely... she's just not you

little does he know behind the scenes you had to kind of fudge things to get him for parents evening, your deputy head teacher comes up one day and tells you the plan for parents evening this year, he explains youre only getting half the class. so rather than doing it with your co-teacher, you'd do half and she'd do half. of course, you immediately ask, "Oh... okay, can I see my list?"

you read it and feel your heart drop, Annie wasn't on there. and you swear it's not just because you want an excuse to sit across from matty for 20 mins... you also genuinely love Annie and would love to talk about her and her progress.

you catch the other teacher in the staff room and have a quick chat, "Mrs Richards, do you think we could go over the parent's evening lists? I was just wondering if there's any students that you don't have that you might like?"

"Oh yes dear, let's have a look," she says, grabbing your list, "Ah yes, if it's okay with you, I'd quite like to see Jason's mum and dad. After the paper aeroplane incident last week, I think I need to have a proper discussion with them"

you scream internally, thankful you won't have to have that conversation, and that you might be able to snag Annie, "Oh yes, that's fine with me! why don't we swap for say... Annie Healy?" You say trying to play it off and act like you didn't already have a child in mind when you started this conversation.

luckily, Mrs Richards is completely oblivious to your crush (that you insist is not a crush) and says, "Of course dear, consider it done. I'll send all the emails tonight"

////

cut to actual parents evening and you are wearing your favourite dress. well, favourite appropriate dress. it's nothing much, floral and flowy, but it just works, and you love it.

and you totally did not try on every combination of dresses and shoes that you own to find the perfect one. at 3am.

you definitely did not do that because that would be insane...

anyway, you just finished your appointment with Lucy's parents, and it all went well. You did have to have a discussion about her habit of punching her male peers in... certain places, but it went down surprisingly well.

you completely forget who your next appointment is until you stick your head out of the door and see matty standing with a cig in the corner. for a good few seconds, you just stand and stare, enamoured by the glow of the cigarette lighting up his features. and the way his cheeks hollow as he takes a drag.

matty finally spots you and waves, dropping his cig and crushing it before rushing to meet you. you take a deep breath and straighten up, trying not to die from nerves before this meeting.

"matty! hi! come in, come in, " you say, waving him in. Neither of you notice the receptionist raising her eyebrows at you, calling him matty. she makes a mental note to talk (tease) to you about it later.

he comes in and sits down, and for the first 10 mins, it's a completely normal meeting. You discuss how Annie is doing, how she's interacting with her peers, and what progress she is making.

obviously, googly eyes are being thrown both ways, but you are both beautifully oblivious.

but soon somehow, you both get completely off topic.

"you've never seen true romance! oh love, that wounds me, " matty says, holding a hand to his chest in faux hurt.

you giggle lightly at his reaction, brushing over the pet name so you don't have a mental breakdown over it in front of him.

"I know! I know! it's been on my list for years but I've never got around to it, is it one of your favourites?"

matty then of course goes on a 5 minute rant about how amazing the film is and what it means to him, "I mean I wrote one of our most popular songs about it, as soon as I wrote it at 18 I knew it would be such an important song. to me. to the band. even to our non-existent fans at the time. well, our one fan, my dad"

you smile at him just in awe of his passion for that band, "Oh yeah, robbers, right?" You say shyly, trying not to show the intensity of the stalking you did.

matty just stops and looks at you, his face a mix of cockiness and pure adoration, "Yeah yeah, you been listening to my band?" he teases and pokes at your arm. Soon, his hand slips down and lightly rests on yours as you speak.

you just nod dumbly because how can you focus on what he just said whilst he's practically holding your hand?? thankfully, you catch yourself reasonably quickly and realise just nodding is not the appropriate reaction to what he just said.

you don't know what comes over you, maybe it's his hand on yours, the soft look in his eyes or the gentle smile on his face but you decide to just be honest.

"Honestly?" You say, and matty nods softly, eyes flittering around your face (perhaps even down to your lips) , "I didn't know who you were before, but now? I am a little bit obsessed. I listened to you on the drive-in this morning, " you say whilst avoiding eye contact.

"No way," he says, laughing to himself. He squeezes your hand to encourage your eyes up, and you give in and make eye contact, "what's your favourite song? you've got to tell me that"

"well i-" Of course, before you can finish, there's a harsh knock on the door. you both jump and separate hastily as you spring up and get it.

before you can say anything, the person behind the door starts talking, "Hi, we're Jackson's parents, are you miss y/n? I thought our appointment was at 6. it's 10 past, and I'm kind of in a rush"

you start stuttering out apologies, and matty is already behind you preparing to leave. He quickly grabs your hand and squeezes it as he brushes past.

you squeeze his to grab his attention, "paris. my favourite song is paris", you let go and usher the other parents in. they squeeze past a frozen matty, just standing and gazing at you.

soon you are closing the door to mattys shocked face, giving him one last grin before clicking it shut.

(paris is not my fav song, but it's matty's, so we gotta have a bit of romance)

blurb masterlist here!!

[vermillionbun]

Heated desires

A little smth as an apology for my absence. Thank you for sticking around ^^

Warnings: SMUT!!!, so if you’re uncomfortable with such content scroll past(telling ppl under 18 to not read isn’t really gonna do much, so if you’re a minor you have been warned), finishing inside, gn!reader(I tried TvT), Xiao being hot as always

Without further ado, hope you enjoy~

<----------------------------------------------------------->

Walking up Wangshu Inn’s now fixed stairs, courtesy of the Traveler,you make your way up to head to your room with almond tofu packed in a wooden box. It has a removable lid and a small, slim compartment for a wooden spoon on the inside. Your last commision happened to be for Xiangling and she insisted on cooking for you. At first you refused, but the pyro wielder wouldn’t back down either. You two ended up compromising that she’ll cook for you if you cook for her and she allowed you to also cook some almond tofu for Xiao and pack it for home. You’ve made a mental note to return the box to Xiangling tomorrow.

As you step off of the last wooden slab you round left, a smiling Verr Goldet greeting you behind a desk. You wave and say a quick hello. You would stay and chat, but you are obviously tired. Something Verr notices and just waves you off with a smile, telling you to get some rest. It seems your exhaustion is more obvious than you thought.

Grabbing the wooden handle, you open the door to your designated room that you use often during your adventuring throughout Liyue. Quite comfortable to have somewhere to stay that’s close to a lot of ruins and other places that may have treasure to find. Setting the almond tofu down, you call out his name. “Xiao!”. A poof of smoke appears beside you. 

“I’ve told you before, you needn’t yell. All you have to do is whisper my name and I’ll come.” 

“Hello to you too Xiao” you say with a playful smile. “Although, you usually like it when I scream your name, do you not?” It amazes many, including you and him, how easily you can fluster Xiao. His cheeks and ears redden as he sputters incoherent words, making a miserable attempt to answer.

Chuckling, you tap the wooden box on the dresser beside you. “I made some almond tofu for you when I was back at Liyue Harbor”. The adeptus’s gaze follows the sound as he stares at the box, seemingly in thought, before a small smile appears on his face. 

“Thank you Y/N. However”- grabbing you by the waist, one of his arms circles around you, pulling you closer as the other rests on the side of your face “I think I’d like something sweeter right now.” His thumb glides over your lips before he dives in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, followed by another one, and another longer one. Slowly, you start backing up as Xiao starts pushing you onto the bed behind you, lips still interlock.

“As you said, I like to hear you scream, so let’s see how loud you’ll get.” The adeptus slides his hand from your jaw, down your neck, resting it at the collar of your shirt, lightly pulling. 

“Xiao…”- a small whimper of his name left your lips. 

“This silly clothing is a nuisance. Take it off.” Following his instructions you take off your clothes, leaving you in your underwear. “Tch, I thought I said take it off.” 

“Wh-what, Xiao, what’re you-” a surprised squeal rips from your throat. 

The anemo wielder bends down, face over your crotch. He bites down on the fabric, teeth digging into the soft material and ripping it off of you. “There, that’s better”. You whine at the cold air hitting in between your legs.

In an attempt to stop the cold you try to squeeze your legs, alas, Xiao doesn’t allow it. “Legs stay open, understood?”- he says in a deep commanding voice. Hungry eyes stare as a shiver runs down your spine and you squeak out a small yes. His hands grip your thighs, opening them further. “Let me have a taste,”- he says, almost whispering, before diving in. A loud moan leaves your throat as Xiao’s wet muscle twists and turns, shockwaves of pleasure going through your body. Squelching noises and whimpers go throughout the room as he groans, vibrations adding onto the intense feeling. You can feel a tightening feeling appearing at your abdomen as your body spasms, thighs shaking in Xiao’s grasp and hands grabbing fists of the blanket beneath you. 

“A-ah~ X-Xiao~~ I- Fuck-, I’M-!”. He could tell, you needn’t say it. You scream out as he gives a particularly harsh suck, sending you over the edge. Your cum fills Xiao’s mouth, a drop that’s a mix of it and spit rolling down his chin before he swallows and licks off the drop.

Your chest goes up and down as you heave, trying to catch your breath. “Hope you’re not too tired, because we’re far from done.” he whispers as his hand pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His lips place a kiss on your neck, he removes his pants and begins to slowly grind against you.

Opening the drawer of the nightstand, Xiao takes out a bottle of lube. Putting some on his fingers, he smears it along his shaft. Nearing his face close to your neck again, he lightly sucks on the skin. “Are you ready, Qingxin?”. You hum, nodding your head slightly. He pushes the tip into your hole, a small sigh leaving the both of you. Xiao slowly pushes in further, groaning at the tightness of your hole. Finally, with a quick snap of his hips, he sheathes in the rest of his cock, a gasp leaving your lips. “Everything alright?” 

“Y-Yeah, just getting used to the feeling.”- you pant out. No matter how many times you two have been intimate you’ll never fully get used to the feeling of his length going inside you.

After a minute or so, you tap Xiao on the shoulder, a sign you two agreed upon as a wordless permission. Slowly dragging his shaft out, he sets a gentle pace so as to not cause you discomfort. He may sound harsh often, but he doesn't wish any pain upon you, no matter the circumstances.

“F-faster, please.”- he gives you a small nod as he fastens the pace. If people didn’t hear you before, they definitely heard you now. Your throat is starting to go sore, but you can’t help moaning Xiao’s name as he rams inside you. Both of you could easily tell you’re getting close again, you’re shaking, limbs flailing everywhere, as you try to handle the pleasure attacking your body. It seems that he’s close too. Ragged breaths hit your collarbone as his hands grip your waist, trying to keep himself composed. 

“Hah, w-where shou-” 

“Inside.”- you cut him off. Your body is desperate to feel Xiao fill you up and who is he to deny you? A few more hard thrusts and both of you cum. Warm, thick liquid spilling inside you as he throws his head back, both of you moaning.

Panting, you move to get up, but Xiao traps you between his arms. “Mmm, no.”- he mumbles out. 

“Xiao, we have to wash ourselves-” 

“I said no. We can do that tomorrow.". He pulls you in closer to him, squeezing you tighter and you sigh. Seems like clean-up will have to wait.

[slutdge]

Heavy subject matter under the cut im just not feeling well and need to get it out of my system

i used to constantly try to convince myself that my experiences with police brutality werent that trauamatizing but im glad i got over that, cause girlypop if you were slammed down on the ground, handcuffed and screamed at to stop resisting (all this during a mental health wellness check) despite yknow. being handcuffed face down on the ground while an officer was digging her knee into my spine so hard i couldnt stand up straight for over a week afterwards was, in fact, bad for your mental health. and this was only one of many instances. dont give these dumb fucking pigs any grace.

with that being said, i dont think ive expressed enough how much you will never feel safe after experiencing police brutality or mistreatment even if its just one time, whether its in your home or in public, you will never feel safe again anywhere because you know first hand they can do whatever they want and get away with it, and its something ive really been struggling to cope with lately now that im kinda drinking less off and on. like i dont know how to function knowing that that could happen again at any time no matter where i am and i couldnt do anything to stop it because even if you dont resist they still wont give you any kind of mercy, there is nothing you can do to snap them out of their fascist power trip because thats why they became cops in the first place. i dont know how to not live in fear and despair when cops are out there especially with the added factor that my abusive parents have on multiple occassions made false 911 calls that ive said i had a plan to kill myself so that i would be arrested and taken to the psych ward every time theyve suspected ive been getting too close to escaping from them and going no contact with them like i want to, even going as far to get a court order to have me arrested. idk i just dont know what to do anymore lol theres not a single thing in my life that isnt tainted with despair idk how im even alive still. sorry for the depressing incoherent late night thoughts, i hope yall are having a good night 🫀 it sounds silly cause its just tumblr but truly this blog is the only place i feel like i can freely express myself and i appreciate everyone who has taken the time to send me kind messages, more often than not thats the only positive thing ill experience in my day

[royallygray]

@periwinklepaint

Little bit of (slightly incoherent) background info for this snippet :)

This is canon, but it's part of the "general prequel" aka anything that doesn't actually happen in amsabyh.

This is a soulmate/urban fantasy/superhero AU.

Scott and Pearl are soulmates.

Pearl is currently in the Underground, which is the shady like. below-surface area of the city where all the shady stuff happens and info is hidden in.

Pearl wants to find more info on the Canary Prophecy, but that's not mentioned in this.

I did just rly want to write a fight scene

Before this scene, Pearl has gotten cornered by a ton of bandit people who are definitely gonna kill her.

Your magic can heal you, but it also draws on the life force of your soul.

Scott and Pearl's soul ability is telepathy, meaning that they can hear each other's thoughts and motivations all the time, in addition to almost-but-not-quite having the other's senses.

Pearl totally should be dead from this.

Pearl gets really panicked in this, meaning that her thoughts are the ones almost completely dominating the soulbond.

She's not quite a vigilante at this point. This is one of her first excursions to the Underground.

CW: guns, fighting, gore, idk if I mention blood but Pearl is definitely bleeding

-- -- --

The world narrowed to only the expanse of Pearl’s senses. Scott’s agonized screams became background music to her fight scene. Time blurred as Pearl dodged and weaved through the masses, holding her wings tightly to her back, stabbing and slashing where she could. People in black clothing shot at her with guns and bows, narrowly missing her most of the time due to Pearl’s panicked magic sparking out of her.

She ran, crouched under the rather low cave ceiling. This was not how she expected her first excursion as a vigilante to go. She ran through the people, who shot and stabbed and shot and stabbed at her, narrowly missing most of the time, and nicking her occasionally. Blood pumped through her heart, her veins, her arteries. Her head throbbed from tuning out Scott.

She ran. She wasn’t this good. She couldn’t do this much longer, even with the use of some magic. Her head pounded. Her body hurt. There was so much going on, the world falling into pieces around her. Her vision was splotchy. She tried to fight, to blast her magic out of her hands, but it didn’t— It didn’t work.

A sharp pain stabbed Pearl in the gut. She couldn’t hear her own screams, but she could finally hear Scott’s agony in her mind.

PEARL!

Scott’s incoherent screams of pain powered her through sprinting through the rest of the bandits, even as she was crouched over, clutching her stomach desperately to keep her organs inside of her.

PEARL PEARL— PEARL WATCH OUT!

Pearl ducked as a bullet whizzed past her head.

Thanks, she sent quietly to Scott. For the first time, she had no idea what Scott was doing, since his energy was clearly being violently depleted by her.

Drop. Roll.

Pearl followed the instructions, rolling into people’s legs and slicing at their ankles.

Run.

She got up, and sprinted through the throes of people. A bullet shot into her left elbow, and her arm dropped from her gut without her consent.

Shit. She vaguely thought of her mom and mama, of Grian and Lizzie and Jimmy. She was going to die here. Without anyone knowing where she was or how she died.

DON’T FUCKING GIVE UP NOW, PEARL!

My elbow’s been shot, Pearl thought distantly, even as gunshots echoed around her. She only felt the impact and not the pain when a bullet shot into her back.

Use your magic, Scott hissed mentally.

Sparks flew out of Pearl’s knife, slicing at people even as she limped through the crowd, getting more and more bullets stuck in her back. And front. And anything that was exposed.

I can’t, Pearl thought miserably, as her head ached from the magic and the bullets and the screaming Rivendellian in her head. Her magic couldn’t run out of her knife anymore. Her magic was too focused on keeping her blood in her body and her wounds relatively healed.

Pearl. You’ve got this.

Pearl forced explosions of magic out of her body, shoving tons of people out of the way. She pushed harder and harder, searching in her body for anything, anything that could help.

Even as her magic drained her, and she put a shield up around her, she kept searching for anything to help. Bullets rained down on her shield, shattering it piece by piece. Nothing was going to fucking work.

She was going to die here, she realized. And—

She found something. Some reserve of magic she hadn’t known was there, and she tugged on it and expelled it out of her body.

These screams weren’t her own. The feedback loop of Scott screaming in her head and apparently out loud were synonymous and took up her entire brain. She kept blindly shoving the magic out of her body, her soul.

She got up, and sprinted through the people, throwing the magic into their faces. People collapsed like a house of cards around her. Everyone fell. No one was spared.

The screams in her head only got louder as she drew on more magic. She shot the magic out of her soul, into the world. She sprinted through the people, hoping desperately that this was the way out.

Go up, Scott’s pained whisper broke through the screams. Shoot up.

Scott had yet to be wrong, so she shoved the magic through the roof above her as the screams continued. The ground was far beneath the surface and Pearl shot the magic through the ceiling, up and up, and she chased it, opening her wings and flying through the tunnel.

And eventually, oh so eventually, she saw the night sky, the stars glinting in the distance. She flapped her wings, desperately shooting up and letting the magic go as she soared into the sky, looking around for a roof to land on. She swooped and dove through the sky, and crashed onto the roof of some building relatively far from her escape.

She sat on the roof, breathing heavily as her heart beat fast. She waited for her heartbeat to slow, breathing in deeply as she regained her vision, and that vision adjusted to the darkness of the night.

She stood up on wobbly legs, ignoring the pain she felt. Scott’s thoughts were quiet. It was possible that he was asleep. It was midnight when Pearl had left her house, and it was probably around one o’clock now. She looked over the side of the roof to where she thought she exited the Underground.

Pearl rubbed her eyes as she looked at the buildings in that direction. There was an explosion of ice and snow around a gaping hole in the ground. Last she checked, she didn’t have ice powers.

She walked backwards, and Pearl hissed in pain as she remembered all the bullets that had been shot into her, the knife she’d gotten stabbed with in the gut.

She hesitantly lifted up her shirt, which was completely soaked through with blood, and holy fuck, that was a deep wound. She…

Was that her stomach? Holy—

Pearl vomited on the roof of the skyscraper.

[waywardsummoner46]

Eternity, Part Two

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x (?)Reader

Summary: “You killed her,” you whispered deliriously.  His hand reached your face once more and in the blink of an eye your shivering body was held tightly against his warm, bare chest. Grains of sand swirled in the air around you; belatedly, you realised that you weren’t in the basement anymore. You didn’t have enough sense to even try and discern your surroundings.  

   A deep, soothing shush came from above you, the vibrations lining the side of your chest. “Rest now, my love. Our eternity shall begin once you wake.”  

  Soft lips pressed themselves against your forehead. For the first time in months, you didn’t dream of the man… you dreamt of a cage. And you were inside of it.

Word Count: 2774

Warnings: mind manipulation/control, possessive and obsessive behaviour, mental breakdown, suggestions of psychological torture, threat of bones collapsing, more to added with more chapters

A/N: I definitely got carried away with this one, I doubt you guys are complaining though. This does begin a tad on the shit side so sorry about that, it does get better though (I think). Thank you all for the overwhelming feedback on my other posts and I hope you enjoy this one just as much!

Smoke filled the house as naturally as any piece to a puzzle. Except, the absolutely vile stench of it burned your nostrils and forced you to squint as you made your way down the stairs, towards the heart of the fire.

  Blythe’s screams of pure agony echoed along the long hallways and you struggled to navigate through the blanketed air. You could also hear Alex and Paul shouting indistinguishable things, presumably at Blythe to cease her screaming, but you couldn’t be sure. 

  Thoughts swam through your head; somehow the abruptness of the fire and the chance of it happening on your first night seemed too deliberate to be a coincidence. As though something had caused it… or someone. The dreams you’d been having were too vivid, too real, for you to sweep them under any metaphorical rug. Instead of them being a place where you retreated to, they became something you ran away from, having done for a while before you consciously became aware of their disturbance of your everyday life.

  Before arriving at Fawny Rig but slightly after college, you and your friend Lia had bought an apartment together. Nothing special, after all what could two freshly graduated students possibly afford with even a shred of a decent standard of living? Regardless of your less-than-ideal circumstances, you’d both settled in quite nicely, always trying to make the most of what you had.

  Oddly, there never seemed to be a cloudy day for either of you (the Great British Weather clearly differed from your moods, what could you expect?). It was just you and Lia… until it wasn’t.

  Gradually at first, you began talking incoherently in your sleep - more common in people than most think. Then, some of your whispers become clear and with it only one word would be repeated: “Eternity”. Considering yourself to be a human with a broad vocabulary, you found it hilarious and perplexing that the only word that you’d ever say was that. Repetition was odd, you’d discovered in your research, for sleep talking. Though it wasn’t unheard of.

  So neither of you dwelled on it for longer than necessary. 

  Once the sleepwalking started though? Not to mention your empty stares and murmurs of one thing, “Eternity”? Suddenly, your innocent nightly escapades turned into a medical concern. 

  Dark, purple bags began to form under your eyes. After the doctor’s had recommended sleeping pills to make your brain fall into too deep a sleep to actually talk or move at all, you refused to take them. For you personally, the extreme that required medical support hadn’t been reached; your brain was just obsessed with one word, no biggy. So as you refused to take your pills, you also refused to fall asleep because despite the situation not being too severe, your dreams were concerning enough to put you off genuine rest.

  A man, always clad in the same dark robes, always with the same palm outstretched, had begun to affect your personal life. You’d be out and about, doing some shopping, when in your peripheral vision you glimpsed the image of the pale man.

  Never did he threaten you. In your dreams, he cherished you. Offering you eternity. 

  His attention and affections in your subconscious made you crave it in the waking world. Lia didn’t understand your want for someone who didn’t exist outside of your conscience and whilst you two fell out over your obsessions, your dreams grew even more vivid. To the point where you could feel the warmth from his hand and the power that emanated from his very aura. 

  He was intense, to put it simply. 

  Like a sailor to a siren, he captivated you in ways you couldn’t explain. You were drowning in him. Funny that it was only now, as you fell over vases and expensive decorations that you were remembering all of this.

   Another scream pierced the manor. After rearranging whatever ornaments you could find from the floor, you slowly manoeuvred through the maze-like corridors. 

  The shouting grew in volume, a small sigh of relief left your lips once you realised Paul and Alex had control of whatever had caused the fire.

  Coughing, you were about to alert them to your presence when something… called for you. Not through sound but through feeling.  It was magnetic and you were powerless to resist its pull.

  Raising your head cautiously, you moved your head around to garner the exact direction of the force. Ominously, the door to the basement stood untouched by the infection of smoke permeating through Fawny Rig; it was a clear sign that that’s exactly where you needed to go.

  Hesitation clashed with morbid curiosity in your mind. Realistically, you knew that if you did decide to venture into the abyss that was the basement, the Burgesses were only a call away so what was the risk? Rationally though, smoke didn’t make exceptions for a door of all things, nor were shrieks of torment to that extent a liable conclusion of a fire. 

  Swooping pulled you from your thoughts. Glancing up, you beheld the blasted raven from yesterday that had stolen the medication for your hand! Which had decided to flare up now of all times. 

  Staring at the raven perched upon the door something fierce, you raised an accusatory finger at it with narrowed eyes. “If I go down there, I’d better find my meds, you sack of shit. I haven’t forgotten what you did and I definitely haven’t forgiven you.”

  Chuckling absurdly at how a bird is what motivates you to finally walk the path down to the basement, you close the door behind you, without looking back, and allow the raven onto your shoulder. It sat eerily still, like a grotesquely beautiful rendition of a taxidermied raven except it was still warm with a beating heart.

  The contrast of the raven’s steady heartbeat served reassuring as your bare feet hit cold, uneven concrete. 

  The silence was deafening as your palms trailed down the wall and fence lining the stairs. Every little breath you took echoed through the grey, gloomy basement in a way that seemed… wrong. 

  Startling you, the raven squawked and flew off your shoulder in the direction of the centre of the area you’d just entered. There was a desk with two chairs, a lot of brainless magazines and newspapers were scattered over it but that was inconsequential compared to what, or rather who, sat before you.

  A delicately crafted cage hung from the ceiling, the framework twisted so that glass was the predominant quality and, oh, if you weren’t frozen in shock you would’ve taken the time to appreciate the expert craftsmanship. Except… there, sat in the middle of the cage, completely naked… was the man from your dreams. 

   Vaguely registering the raven tapping its beak incessantly against the glass, you looked on with  a hand covering your open mouth. 

  Were Alex and Paul aware that there was a literal person in their basement? They must’ve been, despite your short stay, you’d noticed that security guards of some sort had entered it as you walked in. Had they seriously been keeping him here, knowingly? And if so… for how long?

  Considering how solemn and distant he seemed, you’d wager it had been a while. Also considering how, in your short moment of personal turmoil, his head of dark hair had raised and his piercing blue eyes were now staring directly at you. 

  Stumbling back at the realisation, you noticed how his expression was impassive to an extent where you couldn’t understand if his lack of surprise at seeing you there was typical… or expected. As in, he’d expected you to be there. 

  The longer you peered into his eyes, the more you knew this to be true. Although, how he knew was a different question. 

  Relentless sounds of impatience left the oddly behaving bird and, grateful for the excuse to tear your eyes away from his, you looked over at the bird. “What is the matter with you?” You questioned it incredulously, blushing shortly after your eyes met the man’s again. Not only had he seen you gaping like a fish, now he’d watched as you conversed with a bird. What kind of saviour you were, huh.

  Turning back to the raven, you mustered up enough courage to begin walking towards the glass, trying valiantly to avoid the stranger’s heated gaze. 

  You retreated slightly into your mind, partially to cope with the traumatising events that you’d experienced all within twenty four hours and partially because you were a coward.

  Somehow, you’d forgotten weeks, practically months, of obsessive behaviour over the man in your dreams and now out of the blue, he was sitting in a fucking cage in front of you. You just couldn’t wrap your head around how the very same man from your dreams was sitting right in front of you. 

  Without a doubt, something had fucked up neurologically for you; this was either and incredibly vivid dream (which would follow the pattern) or this was a hallucination, that warranted panic. 

  You vowed silently that once you left this hell hole you’d never come back and seek professional help, and actually abide by it this time. 

  The cool sensation of the uneven floor beneath your feet grew to an almost freezing chill. Every step you took seemed to echo in the chamber and reverberated strangely soothingly in your ears. 

   Even the raven’s obnoxious taptaptapping had slowed to a calming beat. Both sounds coexisted as naturally as life and death, which was funny, you realised with a confused laugh, because how could such things be so perfectly in-sync?

  Gradually, the nearer you got, the higher your line of sight got. It continued to rise as an odd blue light began to glow from the cage; completely fascinated by it, you raised your head and greeted blurry eyes. This caused you to rub your own, understanding that your vision had become blurry during your short walk. 

  A distant yawn met your ears, and with a hazy sense you recognised it to be your own. The man tilted his head, a movement so miniscule you would’ve missed it had you not been paying incredible attention to him… to his eyes… his gorgeous, captivating… mesmerising, blue eyes…

  Pressure added to your shoulder almost broke your attention but suddenly, inexplicably, the shadow man grew more intense, the dark voids of his pupils staring into your very soul. 

  Something tugged in the back of your mind, you couldn’t pinpoint what it was yet considering how it seemed to resist the utter serenity that had washed over you like waves on a beach, you ultimately chose to ignore it. Bury it, deep deep down. 

  A small quirk of his lips told you that he was pleased; you’d pleased him! How happy that made you! So happy that it made you fall to your knees. So happy that your hand crept towards the strange gold marks that surrounded his cage. 

  At the reminder of the cage, you frowned. That was no place for a man, a being, such as himself to reside in… for eternity. Oh, eternity! Why did that seem so familiar?

  The raven on your shoulder nuzzled its head into your cheek, your frown slightly lessening at its cuteness. When the nuzzling turned more than innocent, you indicated rather lethargically for it to explain what it wanted to do. Majestically, it glided off of your shoulder and to the floor just before you and it encouraged you to rest your palm on its offered wing. 

  Reaching out a hand, you noticed with startling clarity that it was trembling. Then all at once, you stumbled back far away from the cage and looked fearfully up at the man. Having recently sat up, he looked down his nose at you with a look of definite displeasure and something akin to rage donning his features. 

  The voice you’d buried had fought its way to the surface and won in a moment of all encompassing lucidity that everything was wrong, and that he was the root of it all. 

  “What… are you?” 

  The blue glow returned and grew with intensity. You almost, so very nearly, got absorbed in its magnificence but with blood stemming from your clenched hands you resisted its ethereal pull. 

  Helpless tears flowed down your face - you were desperate, no other word for it. 

  Just as you were about to plead with him again, a different voice cut across the beginnings of a breeze. “Step away from the cage, (Y/N). No one has to get hurt.”

  It was Blythe. Relief crashed down upon you and you breathed her name in relief. Slowly though, her words registered and you looked at her, perplexed.

  “Why would anyone get hurt?” You questioned, and then your gaze travelled downwards. “Blythe, why do you have a gun? Where did you even get that? Put it down!” 

  Your words seemed to enter one ear and go out the other. Blythe was looking everywhere apart from you and as she approached you she raised the gun at the cage. “Blythe, please put the gun down. That’s not the way to do this,” you pleaded with her but again, she ignored you. 

  She stared directly at him. Unflinching, unfeeling, wholly numb in the face of something you suspected was more than human. Knowing you’d regret it, you walked up to her, back to the cage, and went to beg her more sincerely but you reared back as you observed her. Every inch of her pupils, her irises and even the whites of her eyes had been entirely consumed by a galactical exterior. Stars dotted and swam inside of her sight and it was difficult to tell if she could genuinely see like that.

  “Your eyes…” 

  “They’re beautiful,” her head clicked grotesquely as she turned mechanically towards you. “A pity yours aren’t the same. Would you like them to be?” She asked darkly. As mechanically as before, her line of sight returned to the man in the cage. An insane smile crossed her lips. “He wants them to be.”

  She shot the glass; the blue luminescence shone through the jagged cracks like some sort of morbid stencil. She shot once more; larger portions of the light shone  through and a creeping sense of drowsiness fluttered about yourself. On her third and final shot, you tackled her to the ground… except you weren’t quick enough.

  As mighty as a tsunami, the glass shattered across the room and the light crowded the basement in abundance, every single nook and cranny was utterly dominated by its sheer radiance.

  Including you.

  Fluidly, he manoeuvred himself out of the cage as easily as water. His intimidating beauty became almost unbearable without the glass as a barrier between you. Through heavy eyelids, you watched languidly as he moved towards you and as he lowered his hand to caress your face, you were powerless to resist.

  Had you been working at full capacity, you would have registered his longing whisper and the tremor in his hand. Alas, your poor soul refused to obey your brain.

  “Come here.” Sweet nothings and deadly promises seemed to be personified in his voice; pure heaven was the only way to describe it. Once you’d had a few seconds to scramble some coherent thought, your brows furrowed in confusion. What did he mean? You were right there!

  Footsteps echoed in the distance, realistically, however, they were less than a metre away from your collapsed form. 

  “Do you understand your duty?” Hairs raised on the back of your neck at his deadly tone. He must’ve been addressing Blythe, no one else had entered the room as far as you were aware.

  The hand left your face and you cried out at the loss. “Then, you are aware that you are relieved of it.”

  A sickening crack, the thud of something heavy, and the sickening scent of blood.

  “You killed her,” you whispered deliriously.

  His hand reached your face once more and in the blink of an eye your shivering body was held tightly against his warm, bare chest. Grains of sand swirled in the air around you; belatedly, you realised that you weren’t in the basement anymore. You didn’t have enough sense to even try and discern your surroundings.

  A deep, soothing shush came from above you, the vibrations lining the side of your chest. “Rest now, my love. Our eternity shall begin once you wake.”

  Soft lips pressed themselves against your forehead. For the first time in months, you didn’t dream of the man… you dreamt of a cage. And you were inside of it.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added)~

@lweina​

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@the-ruler-of-death​

@moonmaiden1996​

@intothesoul​

@lilithskywalker​

@amandarobertsboyce

@carolcrysis

@emy635

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[blodgmonster]

Assassin's Blade reread commentary that no one asked for. Though my ACOTAR reread posts were mildly successful.

-- some people say NOT to start with Assassin's Balde, and yeah, it's not how I started when I read the series for the first time but...whatever?

The Assassin and the Pirate Lord

-- oh, God. She's SIXTEEN. She's a BABY.

-- Celaena getting a whiff of a breeze from Terrasen as she's prepping to free a bunch of slaves. Nice poetic touch.

-- Celaena and Sam freeing slaves and kicking Rolf's ass. We love to see it.

The Assassin and the Healer

-- so Yrene is really pronounced Irene? Wild. Though I shouldn't get started on the pronounations. Manon? Adarlan? Ashryver? I've been pronouncing them all wrong and have a hard time mentally correcting them. I'm attached to my mispronouncations by now.

-- Yrene has "absolutely ordinary brown hair". I thought she had rich, curly hair that was brown and golden??

-- Celaena's self-defense lesson is great. I want her to teach me. "Do NOT let them move you to another loaction."

-- "Celaena...prayed that somehow, years from now, Yrene Towers would return to this continent, and maybe, just maybe, heal their shattered world a bit." Prayer answered, babe

The Assassin and the Desert

-- I wish I had Celaena's confidence, swagger, and beauty.

-- "She was Celaena Sardothien, gods be dammed." Celaena seems to think like that often, sort of repeating her name. Is that, perhaps, because she is trying SO hard to forget her true name?

-- Ruhnn Mountains...Ruhn Danaan...interesting.

-- my inner horse girl LOVES the Asterion horses, which are clearly modeled after my beloved Arabians.

-- "Where do men find it in themselves to do such monstrous things? How do they find it acceptable?" GOOD QUESTION, ANSEL

-- The Master having her study animals is cool as hell.

-- it's kind of cool that Celaena is a stone cold bad ass AND a girly girl who loves shopping and make up and clothes.

-- "Oh, how vain can you BE?" Ansel is low key hilarious even as she tries to kill Celaena.

-- our first look at that bitch, gloriella

The Assassin and the Underworld

--God, Arobynn is such an ASS

-- Hello, Lysandra!!!

-- Celaena's suit is cool as hell. Very Black Widow.

-- Hello, Dorian and Chaol!

-- "Take my body home to Terrasen, Sam." AAAAHHHHH!!!

-- Sam and Celaena are so cute and good together. Chaol could never.

--Arobynn tricking her into aiding a slaver...God, I fucking hate him.

-- noooo, don't sell Kasida to that slaver bitch

-- and then he used her money to buy Lysandra's virginity. SCUM OF THE EARTH.

The Assassin and the Empire. Here we go....

-- the lavender soap....

-- oh, Sam...you poor, poor boy.

-- "Reality opened wide and swallowed her whole. She didn't move from the bed...She hated the world for continuing on." Oh, Celaena. Oh, hon. I've felt that way before.

-- Arobynn setting her up like this. This motherfucker.

-- "Arobynn STILL hadn't rescued her?" Babygirl, he PUT YOU IN THERE.

-- God...having to face the KING on top of all of this. The man who terrified her as a child, who destroyed her family, her home, and her life. God, imagine if he'd taken a closer look at her eyes. Would he have recognized her for who she was?

-- The white stag. THE LORD OF THE NORTH. Come to her in her darkest hour.

-- the breeze of Terrasen giving her the courage to stand. "She would go into Endovier. Go into Hell. And she would not crumble." THAT'S MY GIRL.

-- "My name is Celaena Sardothien...and I will not be afraid." * incoherent screaming *

[uefb]

New fic: Older, or Two Brothers and a Train Station

Summary: In 1897, Theseus becomes an older brother, and his little brother Newt is perfectly normal… Until he's not. Over the years, Theseus thinks their parents are only doing what is best for Newt until--he decides over the course of a few holidays at home--they actually, very much, definitively aren't. // This story largely follows Theseus as an older brother, from holidays during his Fourth Year in 1902 (the year Newt's differences finally become undeniable) to part-way through World War I (1917). It paints a picture of how two such different brothers grew up together, fell apart together, and began--eventually--to finally find one another again. // All it took was getting older.

Excerpt from Chapter 1 (after introduction):

“So - you remember how Newt’s magic has always been a bit - ah—” his father paused, apparently to select the right word. “Enthusiastic?” he concluded.

“Yes,” Theseus hesitantly replied, sipping at his butterbeer and fixing his dad with a look that nearly made him squirm.

“Well, it’s recently gotten a bit out of hand. His magic has always been more connected to his emotions than some people’s is—hasn’t it?—and as he’s gotten older—”

Helios was tapping a finger on the table and staring at a spot on the wall as he thought, and Theseus knew better than to interrupt him, so he let him wander on.

“Well, I can only hypothesise that as his mental capacity has grown, so too have his magical abilities. But he’s different from you—isn’t he?—and Newt doesn’t have the best control over his reactions to certain things...”

Theseus nearly snorted—that was a bit of an understatement. Just last summer, when Theseus had suggested they rehome a tiny lizard, which Newt had been capturing every morning in the kitchen to release back into the grasses, at a property down the lane, Newt had stared at him for a solid three seconds before a tiny sphere of light wrapped itself about the reptile, and—when Newt screamed in surprise—it proceeded to bounce out the door and across the field, disappearing past the treeline. Theseus had then been forced to soothe an incoherently sobbing four-year-old for the next fifteen minutes, until he’d eventually resorted to locking him in his room and pounding off in search of their mother, who was—at that point—(unsurprisingly) already hysterical on the ground outside Newt’s window: In the time between Theseus locking the door and making it outside, the uncoordinated imp had decided to try shimmying down the drainpipe in search of the lizard, instead of staying put like a reasonable child was meant to…

“So I personally believe,” his father was continuing in the here and now, and Theseus jerked out of his reminiscence, “his intellectual abilities have outpaced his emotional ones.”

He nodded his understanding, raising an eyebrow in the hopes his father would continue, because none of this was exactly unexpected and had, also, still explained very very little about why his brother was at St. Mungo’s...

“Which—of course—all that would be fine in a non-magical child, if a bit difficult for his parents, but as a young wizard…” he trailed off and winced, and Theseus felt his eyes narrow. “Well. The Ministry’s labelled Newt as a bit of a threat to magical secrecy.”

“They’ve what?” he exclaimed, setting down his drink with a clank that created a momentary silence around them, and Helios hissed at him to be quiet. “But he is five years old!”

“I know, I know,” his father waved a placating hand, before returning to stare at his own drink. “It’s utterly absurd, but the law is the law—”

“I know that.”

“—so we have had to comply with Underage Magic’s requests, which include rudimentary magical training and—” He paused, blinked. “—treatment for intellectual deficiencies,” he said quickly. “Both with a healer, once a week.”

Theseus blinked.

“We try to schedule them when your mother already has to come into town, so—”

“But - but Newt’s not an imbecile, Dad.”

“Oh, I know he’s not, lovey…”

There was a long silence, then, in which both he and his father picked up their drinks with a sigh, before dropping elbows to the table to stare at one another. x