#serpent scum

[salemlunaa]

okay, this post has its reblogs off but i just wanted to say

please please please never pay someone to manifest/tap into the void for you, i don’t care what the circumstances are this will always be a scam to me, and people who do this will always be scum to me, like preying on people, who you know are suffering and are desperate, for your gain. And it isn’t to “help them” so don’t lie, if you wanted to help you would teach people how to do it themselves

please guys no matter how desperate you are do NOT pay someone to enter the void or manifest for you. because it has to be from you. For example, if they go to the void to manifest weight loss for you, they will shift to a reality where you lose weight, you won’t be in that reality. which is why it will always be better to do it yourself.

don’t let people scam you in broad daylight loves, ik it gets hard, like so hard, but YOU CAN do it, don’t allow these serpents to prey on you in a vulnerable state. @trynafindbarbiee do better

kisses 💋💋

[x-hotoke]

THE SERPENT HASHIRA'S TSUGUKO !

obanai Iguro x male!reader | platonic

synopsis: Obanai trains Y/n as his tsuguko before disaster strucks!

warning: explosion, deaths, spoilers.

“Y/n-kun.” A finger flicked the boy's forehead who groaned in return. Y/n — a 15 year-old demon slayer was being trained under The Serpent Hashira as his tsuguko for over one year now.

“Ah— I'm sorry, Iguro-san..” Y/n whispered, placing a hand on his forehead, wincing. He grabbed the wooden sword and shakily stood up. This has been going on for five hours straight yet the pillar didn't seem to care. Y/n looks at him, letting out a shaky sigh. His body was battered and bruised yet he still wanted to continue for the sake of his mentor.

“Iguro-san.. may I take a break?”

“What for?”

Y/n deadpanned at him, feeling his soul going out of his body. He slowly raised his hand. “Because I'm—”

“No.” Y/n sweatdropped at this, he didn't even get a chance to explain why.

“You're weak as a child. How will you be able to completely master my breathing style and get stronger if you take useless breaks?” Obanai scowled, raising his pointed finger at him — waving it around with his brows furrowed. Y/n shivered — the atmosphere changed and he can tell, a sweat dropped from his face. “You’ll die out there in your current state.”

Y/n deflated on the ground. “I’ll die here before I can even defeat demons..” He whispered.

“What did you say?” Obanai stared down at him, adjusting his tight grip on the wooden sword making the teen chuckle nervously.

“N-Nothing, Iguro-san!”

Obanai swiftly turned around, looking over his shoulder. “Get ready.” His tone was filled with bitterness as he walked a few feet away — turning to face him once he had reached his spot. He spun the wooden sword in his hand before taking his stance.

Y/n can't do anything than stand up, if he wanted to get stronger — he needs to endure the hellish training from the hashira. He took his stance, watching the Serpent Hashira intensely. His eyes widened as soon as he disappeared.

He looks around — analyzing his surroundings before feeling a shiver run down his spine, he turns around just in time as he blocks the wooden sword. He was pushed back by the force, obanai put in. Y/n launches forward, taking the offense role. He reeled his arms back.

Obanai's eyes glints as he sees an opening.

Quick but not fast enough.

Before Y/n could land a hit first, a wooden sword came in contact with his stomach. He dropped the weapon he was holding, hugging his waist as he landed on the ground — coughing.

“I win.” Obanai sighs out, he stood next to the teen who was breathing heavily. “You leave yourself open for an attack. Have I not taught you well enough?” He stared down at him making Y/n sweatdropped.

Y/n quickly shook his head. “No! no, iguro-san.”

“Then what the hell was that, you scum?” Obanai spit out, his two colored eyes piercing y/n's. “I took you in as my tsuguko because I saw potential in you yet..” He gripped the wooden sword tightly, shaking his head. “Stand up.” he commanded.

Y/n carefully got up, his stomach still hurting. He looks at the ground, waiting for his mentor's next move. He could see his feet approaching him before coming to a complete stop in front of him. “Look at me.”

Y/n looks up at him—flinching at the harsh tone.

“I don't need losers like you wasting my time.” Obanai said, scowling. “Either you prove yourself to be worthy of being my tsuguko again, then I'll train you.” He continued, jabbing his finger on the teen's forehead.

Y/n shrinks back at his words.

So harsh!

“Caw! Attack on the ubuyashiki estate! Caw!”

Obanai quickly looks up seeing his Kusagai crow flying in circles panicking, he wasted no time on getting his Nichirin Blade. “Stay here.” he shouted before scurrying off.

Y/n didn't know what to do except swinging his blade over and over again—training by himself. What his master's crow said worried him.

A few minutes later, he heard an explosion. He hid his face with his arm to avoid dust getting into his eyes. What was that? It was far but he could still hear it. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Iguro-san?..” Y/n whispered, his breath hitching as he felt something was off. He froze, hearing a biwa. The ground beneath him disappeared, falling into what seems to be an endless castle.

His grip on his Nichirin blade tightens as he swiftly looks around, seeing other demon slayers falling. At least he wasn't alone right?

Y/n chuckles nervously as he sees different demons peeking out of the sliding doors as he falls. “Ah.. I'm gonna die here.”

[aziraphales-library]

Could I recommend a few of my own fics perhaps? I’m quite proud of them, especially my two more niche AUs. No problem if shameless self promo isn’t a thing on here though! Thank you for all that you do.

The fics are; Pull Up the Ladder When the Flood Comes (3 chapters, 17k); iwgbysasbsooi (the name was too long to write the whole thing out lmao) (6 chapters, 25k); my cat AU Strays on the Street (13 chapters, 54k); and my human AU, Coffee Breath (6 chapters, 29k words).

There’s a variation of angst, fluff, and some smut in the last one! ❤️ I have many others as well, with the full link of my stories here. 🥰

Self promo is not only allowed, it is actively encouraged!...

Pull Up the Ladder When the Flood Comes by midnightdragons (T)

What sort of backwards world was it – that the Almighty God and Her angels, who were meant to be the kind, the Holy, the good, were leaving innocent people, innocent children to die, were the bringers of their deaths? How was it that a demon, the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth, the literal damned Serpent of Eden, had been the only one to spare those innocent lives a glance; who had assured the mothers that it would be alright as they handed their children to him, who had sworn to them with everything he had that he would protect them? How was it that the one who was supposed to be the embodiment of everything evil had been the one to rescue innocent children from the wrath of God Herself? (Or: Crawley saves children during the Flood in Mesopotamia, and finds himself in an even more jeopardizing situation as he seeks out shelter. Aziraphale struggles with his own internal conflict, but attempts to help all the same.)

i wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby (snap out of it) by midnightdragons (T)

“Hello, demon,” said the angel coolly, tilting his head to one side and grinning broadly in a crude imitation of Aziraphale’s warm, comforting smile – and it took Crowley perhaps half of a second to decide in certainty that this angel was absolutely not Aziraphale.

Two hundred and seventy-three days. That was how long it had been since Crowley had seen Aziraphale, how long it had been since the angel had left him, how long it had been since he had yanked the angel into that horrible, awful, desperate kiss, a plea disguised as an act of undying love. And now, on the two hundred and seventy-fourth night, he finally reunited with . . . someone. Someone who looked like Aziraphale, and sounded like Aziraphale, but was – and Crowley knew this with every fiber of his trembling being – not his angel. Crowley isn’t the only one who needs saving.

Strays on the Street by midnightdragons (T)

The black tomcat eyed the Aziraphale from his perch, his long, thin tail flicking with apparent disapproval. His jaws stretched in a wide yawn, and his yellow eyes blinked slowly. With them closed, he could be mistaken for a shadow on the backdrop of a brick wall. “Who’re you, then?” He asked in a gravelly, hoarse voice that suggested disuse. His words were stated rather rudely, and he did not move, save for the flicking tip of his tail, and the flexing of his hind claws. Aziraphale nervously padded closer. The wiry black tom looked quite hostile, from the way his thin fur was prickling along his spine, but this was the first cat he had seen ever since his human had (accidentally) left him behind, and he needed to take this chance. Even if he had to handle a little rudeness.

Crowley is a long-abandoned, hardened street cat, angry and wary and guarded against anyone intruding on the fragile peace he had carved out for himself. Aziraphale is an anxious housecat, who's just wondering why his owners had thrown him to the streets. He's certain it must've be some sort of mistake. (Ineffable Husbands AU: they're cats. This is as ridiculous as it is angsty.)

Coffee Breath by midnightdragons (M)

He stared, mouth half-open, at the stranger he had collided with, and became momentarily frozen in place as his barreling heart caught up to his fretting mind. The (man? woman? neither? well, there was a he/they pin clasped to their sweater, so at least he had that to go off of) person who he had just crashed into, knocked onto their arse, and made spill coffee all over their things, was undeniably and irrevocably the most gorgeous creature Aziraphale had ever laid eyes on in his entire life. Just his luck.

A rather cliche but cute human AU story with bookshop owner!Aziraphale, plant shop owner!Crowley, and a meet-cute involving spilt coffee, with angst but also lots of fluff because we all need a cute little story sometimes. Featuring a bonus chapter with their "first time."

- Mod D

[lcdyinlecther]

@sinnerssquarestart

LOCATION: outskirts of babylon, giovanni's farewell. FOR: open! ( 0/5 )

𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 that oxana thought very little of giovanni -- in terms of respect? certainly not. would you respect an individual who viewed you as the gum wrapper he threw to the street, the scum beneath his shoe that probably cost more than her rent? to her, the answer seemed blindingly clear. giovanni moretti was dead. and the snakes were scrambling. very rarely could anyone witness anything more beautiful. and yet? the serpents weren't the only ones in deep shit. make enemies -- and the sharks will circle upon bloodshed.

somehow? there was someone coming after them all.

oxana had made sure to have some amount of fun, reuniting with friends, clients, new and old. and yet, the time had come when she needed to step away. take a moment for herself, as she made some attempt to decode the next move in this life sized chess game the biggest criminal enterprises in new york city had been thrust into.

she can feel the company before she even sees them, gaze boring into her back. " can i help you? " she begins, taking a drag. the dancer only turns upon exhaling, releasing the smoke into the air. it cradles her -- momentarily offering some kind of fucked up halo. a true angel of darkness.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Surrender - Rose Tico x General Hux (GingerRose)

Authors Note: Good lord….these two make my heart explode.

Warning: Kind of spicy! Nothing huge though.

——————————————————————————————

Air. Air was all Rose could feel and hear. Empty and warm air that surrounded her in this stupid cell. Only an hour ago were her and Finn on their knees infront of the pathetic First Order General. Only an hour ago did the bastard place his disgusting gloved hand under her chin- tilting her to look up at him. She’d debated biting it off- but thought against the better part of herself. It would do no good. No matter how much she wished to see the filth of his smirk wiped from his face.

Now- she was here. Dim lights of the cell flickering to life. She’d been alone. She was sure this wasn’t the end- someone would have to come to the rescue. They couldnt have just been…abandoned? Could they? Gods…she thought it had been only an hour. Her mind flashed with images of Finn. What could they be doing to him?

She was sat down- curled up against her knees as her hands were bound together. She could feel her heart beat- a mixture of fear and determination. She could feel her heart beating to the empty rythm of the air. It was horrid. It was all horrid.

She closed her eyes as she heard the clank of steps outside- heavy boots. They were frustratingly…gracefully getting closer.

As the cell door creaked open, Rose glanced up from her knees, meeting the General’s cold and calculating gaze. His uniform pristine, his demeanor stern, he exuded authority as he approached her with measured steps. The tension in the room was palpable, the unspoken animosity simmering between them like a coiled serpent.

"You're quite the thorn in my side, scum." Hux stated, his voice steady, yet laced with an underlying intensity. "Your resistance and tenacity are both impressive and vexing."

What the hell was he doing here? Rose didn't flinch, her gaze unwavering, a subtle defiance evident in her eyes. "I'll never stop fighting for what I believe in," she replied, her voice matching his own steadiness, refusing to let him see her vulnerability. Though it came out as more of a weak snarl.

Hux's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes narrowing as if relishing the challenge. "What did I say about rebel vermin?” A scowl nearly surfaced. “What you “believe” in is far below the First Order. The Republic is no more.” He spat the word “Republic”, looking at her with accomplishment. His eyebrows raised slightly, tantalizing half smile playing on his face.

Rose didn’t believe it. She knew. The Resistance would never give up, not now. Not ever. Someone would come find her and Finn- and when they did- they would keep fighting. As they had always done.

She didn’t grace him with a response- simply looking up at him in hatred. Her nostrils flared- eyes looking up at him from beneath her brows. Somehow- her lack of a response seemed to irk him. His smile slipped into the familiar scowl- raising his hand. Expecting a blow to the face like Finn got- she closed her eyes- ready to accept- but it never came.

When she opened her eyes- she found the General simply holding his hand up- lip curled. It was as though he had stopped himself- and in his own halt- confused himself as well. His brows furrowed onto her.

There was a moment of charged silence as their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills taking place between them. Rose felt the tension building like an electrical storm, unsure whether to brace herself for the strike or to succumb to the pull of…strange attraction she sensed emanating from Hux.

The General shook his head- as though to shake off his own failure to punish her.

Finally, Rose took her turn to speak- voice leveled. She remembered the feeling of his glove- tracing her cheek and down to her chin- forcing her head to look up at him. The touch…strangely gentle.

“What is it your doing here? If you’re not going to torture me?” Her voice shook- but still dripped with resistance- determination in her throat as she nodded to his hand- still raised.

He scoffed, presumably offended. As though the question was obvious. Hux took a step closer, his breath mingling with hers, their proximity igniting an undeniable spark. He had leaned down to her level on the floor.

Rose thought- this would be the perfect time. To kick or hit or scream or bite. Though…alike Hux’s own failure to hit her- she stood completely still. She attempted to convince herself it was of the fear. The consequences she would face for hitting the man. Thats why she didn’t do it….certainly not the way his eyes trained on her…or the feeling of his touch…or the way his lips curved in the flickering light of the cell.

“You bewilder me, scum,” His voice was suddenly akin to a whisper as neither took their eyes away from the other. It was like a confession- aggression still evident in his words. “…I can't tell if I want to argue with you… or do something else entirely."

Rose swallowed, mouth dry. His hand raised again- though Rose paid it no mind. She stared into his eyes- determined to not show any weakness. It slowly raised as it did when she was first on her knees for him…gloved finger coming down to her chin- then making his way down her jaw, before turning into a fist. He roughly wrapped his hand around into her hair, forcibly pulling her neck back in a sharp motion.

Rose let out a grunt at the action, causing her to finally stand up to his level as he pulled upwards. Her mouth dropped, not taking her eyes off him once. Heavy breaths sounded between the both of them- Hux’s own strangley shakey despite his power. It made her question what the hell was happening. Though it hit her- neither of them really knew.

“Your defiance fuels my desire to break you, yet I find myself….inexplicably…captivated.” His whispers sounded. He sure does talk…a lot. Rose thought to herself, gaze moving from his eyes to his lips. She hurriedly looked away- fighting her thoughts of his lips.

Another tug to her hair forced her to look at him. “Look at me,” he growled- eyes trained on her- emperial accent shaking at his own words. ”Nothing else.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between her instincts to resist and the inexplicable allure he held over her. "I won't let you break me," she asserted, though her resolve seemed to waver as his intensity bore into her soul.

“I assure you…” A slight smile played on his lips- one that he was unsure of himself. He was letting himself go. His control was slipping- but in the moment he didn’t care. Nothing mattered. He dipped his head into her own neck, hand fisted into her hair pulling back. He was now fully pressed up against her- her own body against a cell wall. “…It would be quite…pleasurable for the both of us.”

His breath grazed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. He murmured the words against her neck, his admission catching them both off guard.

She felt her thighs clench together in reflex. She hated this.

Rose's heart raced, and she mustered the strength to meet his gaze with defiance. "I won't give you the satisfaction," she whispered, her voice filled with determination. "I won't let you see me weak."

A mix of frustration and intrigue flickered across Hux's features as he pulled away from her neck to observe her. The air between them crackled with a charged energy, a dangerous dance of power and attraction that neither of them could deny.

His grip on her hair loosened slightly, and his thumb brushed against her cheek, his touch strangely tender yet tinged with restraint.

"Your soul...” His voice grew more intense. He held on to her tighter, his affection evident in every caress.

“Your body…” Hux pulled at her hair and leaned close to her lips until he was practically speaking against them.

“Your thoughts…” He struggled to get the words out as he felt the sensation of her own body press against him.

“They already give me satisfaction,” He spat- harsh contrast to the reality of the words. “You are already weak. I can see you right now. A weak…pathetic little thing.”

Rose's breath hitched, her heart conflicted by the emotions coursing through her. She had come to see General Hux as nothing more than an enemy, a cruel and heartless leader of the First Order. But now, faced with this complexing…allure…she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of anger and attraction.

"Is this some kind of game to you?" she asked, her voice trembling, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. "Toying with me like this?"

Hux's gaze bore into hers, and for a moment, the arrogance in his eyes faded, replaced by a raw honesty that surprised them both. "No," he said, his voice barely above a whisper- cracking in self-frustration and admission. "It's not a game…I don't know what it is, but it's something I can't explain."

The vulnerability in his confession resonated with Rose, and she found herself inching closer to him, drawn to the enigma before her. Despite everything, she couldn't deny the pull she felt, the strange connection that had formed between them from then to now.

Their faces were mere inches apart, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Rose could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, and her heart pounded in her chest, torn between the desire to fight and the desire to surrender to his wants for her.

Hux closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, calming himself enough for his voice to return to normal. He opened his eyes and looked back into hers. His gaze was filled with the same confusion and conflict as when he spoke before. He knew what he was feeling, but he couldn't admit it, not here.

“Please.” He muttered- word gutteral in his throat. As if it was foreign to him to have to beg for anything. He was used to just getting what he wanted.

Rose felt a strange mixture of emotions swirling inside her as she looked into Hux's conflicted gaze. The General, known for his cold and ruthless demeanor, now appeared vulnerable, almost like a lost little boy searching for something he couldn't quite name.

His plea hung heavy in the air, and Rose could feel the weight of his desire- though not quite fully understanding just what he was asking. It was a dangerous proposition, and part of her wanted to resist, to hold onto her defiance and not give him the satisfaction he sought.

But another part of her, a part that she had never acknowledged before, was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, two souls entangled in a fate they couldn't escape.

As his lips hovered near hers, Rose felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her. She knew she should push him away, to remind herself of the pain and suffering he had caused. The people he’d killed. Tortured without a second glance. Yet, in this moment, none of it mattered. The lines between captor and captive blurred, and all she could focus on was the magnetic pull between them.

"Please what?" she mumured, her voice barely above a whisper, feeling her resolve melt away. The vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in her own, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the galaxy.

"Surrender," Hux stated, his voice firmer now, as if trying to regain his composure. His voice was a bit louder- as if he was commanding her as he did with the troops. He had practice, Rose reminded herself. Practice in forcing people to do what he wanted. Practice in pain. “Surrender to me. Not to the First Order. To me. No one else.”

His words made her let go of a shakey breath, and Rose found herself finally unable to retort. It was a dangerous proposition, and part of her wanted to run, to deny the questionable aura between them.

But another part of her, a part that she had kept hidden deep inside her heart, yearned to give in, to let herself be consumed by the passion and desire that Hux had suddenly awakened in her.

In that moment, Rose made a choice that would change the course of their lives forever. And with that same mix of fear and determination she had in the begginning, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was electric, a collision of conflicting emotions and unspoken desires. It was as if the cell walls around them had crumbled, leaving them exposed and vulnerable to each other.

Hux responded with equal fervor, if not more. His free hand roughly grabbed her neck, shoving her even farther into the wall that trapped her. His touch was both offensive and passionate- and in that moment, they both surrendered, unbeknownst.

As they kissed, time seemed to stand still, and the weight of the war and their responsibilities falling away. In this small, secluded moment, they were just two individuals bound by fate, trying to find solace and understanding in each other.

When they finally pulled away, both were left breathless and bewildered by the intensity of the moment. Their gazes locked once more, and in that shared look, they saw the vulnerability and strength in each other. Hux looked…horrified- but hadn’t let go of her throat in his hands. Rose looked similarly.

Neither knew where this uncharted path would lead them, but they both knew that they were forever changed. The lines between love and hate had blurred, and they were left with a whirlwind of emotions that neither of them could fully comprehend.

In the dimly lit cell, they’d both stood as equals, despite the chains that held Rose in place.

And in that moment, they realized that sometimes, surrendering to the other….may not be all that bad.

——————————————————————————————

[ryuzakemo128]

Chapter One: The Defiant

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Aelora Targaryen

Content Warning: Possible Mentions of the following: death, betrayal, intense levels of gore. If these do not bother you wish to proceed to read it. Do so at your own risk. I wish to also warn those who wish to read this. A OC house inserted called House Raengyreon to a certain degree. If you don't like that, I express this as my only warning.

Rating: MA15+

Words: 3.6K~

Links: Dviders / Masterlist

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Summary: If you could live your life again. What would you do differently? Would choose to live in a different way?

Note: This is mostly about Aemarr and Aelora rather than Daemon and Aelora. Daemon makes an appearance in chapter two. I hope to use this as a way to reveal another of House Raengyreon. I hope you guys enjoy it. If you have any questions feel free to ask. If you have advice or critques about my writing please be well intentioned and nice.

Note 2: Long chapter. I advise people to set aside enough time to read it.

Whispering of the Targaryen court. Insufferable whispering of Alicent’s ladies-in-waiting the same ones who scowled in disgust of how she looked or what she did. These whispers following her around like a committee of Vultures. Unease continually filling her gut from an endless flagon of dread. A most morbid part of her could not hope to contain the urge to see who was whispering about her. The urge to listen in to their gossip about her ate away at her. ‘What could they be possibly talking about? Why are they looking at me like that? Why are they snickering and laughing at me? What could I have possibly done to earn this?’

It continued to eat at her like a colossal sized serpent swallowing her whole. Snapping its mouth around her entire body. A snake of blue scales and eyes like the sun. Eying her like some kind of forbidden meal. A meal you can not have. But you cannot help but sneak a bite. Maybe two. Sometimes you consume the entire meal despite it all. 'Why should I go without when they get everything handed to them?'

Aemarr, Aelora’s fraternal twin and older than her by fifteen minutes. They were treated differently because of a mix of gender roles, personalities and style choices. Aemarr, a kind, gentle and compassionate soul. He enjoyed things men were deemed not allowed to. Things that were deemed only fit for women. He was the one able to ignore their taunts, snickering, jests, mockery and comments about his masculinity.

Perhaps it was not done outright, yet it was done enough times to for Aelora to break a few noses of the men who got far too close to him. The crunch of a nose broken in the training yard, she would have punched the lights out of more of them had her brother stopped her by force. Gripping her by the shoulders.

“That is quite enough Aelora.” Aelor stated to get her to calm down. His voice, low and soft like a lullaby.

“They started it, they wouldn’t stop.” Aelora grimaced. She attempted to chase after them only Aemarr did not loosen his grip upon her shoulders. Determined to stop her from doing far more damage than she already done.

Protective because the thought of losing her brother to scum like them was a horror she had nightmares about. Loving. In the way she would rather get hurt. If it was her getting mocked. Teased. Bullied. She would not have cared. It was only when he became a target for their ire. Things shifted. Turned.

Loving. In the way she would rather get hurt. If it was her getting mocked. Teased. Bullied. She would not have cared. It was only when he became a target for their ire. Things shifted. Turned.

Compassionate in the way she cared so much that it hurt. A burden she wilfully carried, she became a shield for her brother in the ways she thought it mattered. Deflecting blows from those who were ignorant, shameful, arrogant and prideful. These nobles did not matter to her in the same way her brother mattered to her.

Pity, Aemarr became the only person who saw beneath it all. The façade of her ‘madness’. The same façade forced upon her by the assumption of other noblemen and women. The nobility who clung to the comforting normal. Pity, a word she learned to loathe with every fibre of her entire being.

She would roll her eyes as soon as someone tried it. Tried anything remotely resembling pity. "Don't" her lips curved into a feral snarl. "I don't need your pity. I never needed your pity."

Aemarr swore he heard her whisper to him. “I do not want to be pitied. I do not want to be 'feared' either. I just want to be loved.” Whether anyone would believe it. She wanted to be loved. Just as much as he did.

The only difference between the two of them is she had believed to be undeserving of it. Someone thought differently, in the distance, looking over at them from the banisters above the two of them. Aelora saw white hair from the corner of her eyes. She turned abruptly, panicked over the thought of someone listening in to their private conversation.

“I saw someone.” Aelora stated, wide-eyed and startled. “Someone up there.” She pointed to the overview above the training yard. Hoping it would give her brother an idea of where she saw them. She continued as she about to place her hand on his arm. Looking everywhere to see if there were any others watching the two of them. She whispered in a low voice, “We should continue this conversation back in our solar. Lest the ears of spies have more to report back with.”

Aemarr raised an eyebrow at her. “There is only me, you, and the guards around here. I doubt there would be anyone here who would want to listen to this conversation.”

“Regardless of whoever might or might not be here right now. I do not feel comfortable in talking about this further, as it can easily be taken out of context and reworded to fit their perspective.” Aelora continued to whisper in a hushed tone in the hopes it would throw off the person who might have been ears dropping.

Her unease remained, like a prickly thorn in her side, preventing her from completely relaxing. The constant need to look over her shoulder had made her flinch at any sight of another person in the corner of her eye.

"Who do you think it was?" Aelora asked. As she constantly felt the need to look behind them. "I would not be surprised if it was one of those weird Hightower spies. They have loads of those hanging around. Vultures."

“Those vultures you are speaking of, are they the ladies-in-waiting or someone else?” Aemarr chuckled.

"Mix of both. Hightower is quite the sticky-fingered house. I would not put it past them to have a spy or two tagging us from around or corner. Reporting back to their 'Rat King'." Aelora grumbled in unease of being watched.

Aemarr chuckled again, both warm and reassuring, “Worrying about it will not solve it. Let us head back to the solar. Your mystery spy will lose interest enough to leave us alone.”

“We can only hope they do.” Aelora sighed in exasperation.

Aemarr had only recently taken up embroidery, a feminine activity, used to provide gossip between ladies-in-waiting to noblewomen of higher status. He loved to join Aelora in making various designs for either tapestries, clothes or a blanket for their mini fortress in the centre of their solar.

His interest supported by her intensely and passionately. No matter how his interests looked or appeared to others. Supporting his interest in it with her entire heart. Just as her interest. Her enjoyment in the art of swordsmanship. Inherently something only men were interested in. Supported by him in return. She never took it for granted. Ever.

To Aelora. Family supports each other. Even when they may or may not agree with you. Even when they cause you to feel enough anger to want to tear your hair out. Even when your angry with them. Family sticks through the good stuff and they remain together throughout the bad.

To Aemarr. Family meant tradition and expectations. A family that didn't stand up for each other. A family who would rather think of themselves rather than the children they birthed.

His smile faltered a little, for a short time before he masked it, he would not allow her to see him in such a state. He did not want her to worry about him any more than she does already. It is no wonder he could see the few grey hairs coming in earlier than normal. Testament to the taunting she received from the nobility inside of court.

“You are perfect, Aemarr. You will always be perfect,” Aelora whispered, her voice a reverent tone. Pious one used by septas. Some would say it was blasphemous to speak of him in such a way. Not like Aelora cared what they thought either way. The flaws were included in when she called him perfect. Beyond compare. Comparing him to anyone else would do the second person a disservice.

“You look like you were carved from opalescent marble. Carved to show off your perfection in exquisite detail." Aelora murmured. "No detail missed or altered or changed. Pure perfection. Absolutely divine.”

Aemarr blushed, a faint tinge of pink dusting his cheeks that clashed playfully with his silver hair. "You always know what to say, Aelora," he stammered, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper to match hers. "But please, for the love of the Seven, don't let anyone else hear you speak of me like that. They'd think we were mooning over each other."

She raised an eyebrow at his proclamation, “I doubt they would care what I say, irrespective of the content. They would rather present a story fashioned by the whims and desires. Inventing a narrative, they would rather see spread across the keep.”

“The more ammunition they have against us, the bigger the bonfire is going to be.” He reminded her. As if she had not considered the possibility of death. As if death was not already reeking from every corner of the keep. He paused to look at her, still face first on the couch as if she waited to pass out on the couch long enough for the world to fade away completely. “The world will remain even if you fall asleep.”

“Pity. Here I thought it disappeared as soon as I closed my eyes to fall asleep.”

“The world sleeps with you and without you. Just as when you fall asleep. Everyone else is either awake wandering around the Moonstone Keep.”

“Sounds intimate of the world to sleep with me like that. The world should take me to dinner first.”

“I have a feeling the world will. In some form. The world might not even be ready for a suitor like yourself. Although, if Daemon were to say it, he would more than likely blurt out something like, 'Fierce as a dragon waiting to be unleashed. A woman worth waging a war for.'"

"Who wages a war for women though? I thought wars were fought between houses." Aelora sighed as she sat up on the couch. "I doubt there is a woman out there worthy enough in their eyes to wage a war over. If there was one. We would have known by now or at least I would have."

Aelora loved to find forgotten lore no one else had bothered to look for, the parts of the world which people would normally forget. Parts of the world overlooked by the nobility. Information no matter how small or how ‘insignificant’ by countless maesters. She included lore of forbidden subjects. “Lest we forget lore deemed forgotten or forbidden. Preservation covers everything. Not just the parts we want people to remember."

History remembered them. The ones deemed important to the biased Hightower spies in Maesters robes. Reeking of bitter entitlement. Tearing through history with eyes of bias. Importing their opinion rather than objective fact.

Visenya Targaryen. Sister-Wife of Aegon Targaryen the Conqueror. The wife Aegon married out of duty. He did not love her in the way he loved Rhaenys.

Rhaenys Targaryen. The second Sister-Wife of Aegon Targaryen the Conqueror. The wife he loved more than Visenya. The one Aegon loved far more. For every one night he spent with Visenya. He speant ten with Rhaenys.

Aerion Targaryen. Aerion Brightflame. Aerion the Monstrous. The one who thought he was dragon. After drinking so much wine. He drank a cup of wildfire thinking it would turn him into a dragon. Only he died shortly after swallowing the potent cocktail.

Aegon himself did not interest Aelora one bit. She would actively avoid him as she knew others would tell his story. His wives deserved the same and equal amount of respect. Even if people did not think women were not important enough to be allowed the Iron Throne.

Aelora thought staring at her portrait. One depicting her in her of her beauty. Forever eternally beautiful. Perfect without the effects of ageing.

'I wonder if Visenya had someone else to fill the gap Aegon left between them. Did he not love her at all?'

'Was it duty and nothing else?'

'Did Visenya find solace in the arms of another man while he spent those ten nights away from her?'

'What good does marriage do if you look at your first wife and decide the second one is better?'

'What good is being the first wife of a man who would rather spend more time with his second wife?'

'What good is power if you are alone at night?'

'Aegon never deserved her. Any part of her. He was lucky to have the honour to even marry the woman. I would have said that to his face if he was alive to hear it. I would also have given several types of glares. Not that it matters now. It has already passed. Set in stone.'

She would have stayed there standing in front of the painting staring at the portrait had her brother not decided to intervene. She had empathy for the women who were cheated on. The women who were ignored for a man's mistress. The women who were silenced because they did not bring their husbands a male heir. Among those, history erased the names of so many women and did not blink an eye.

When Aelora called Aelor perfect a second time. Her whispers of devotion, fearing it would only fall upon deaf ears. Her fear of abandonment running rampant through her mind like a horse unable to stop running.

“You are always perfect. You are like a star from far away. A cosmic entity without the wear and tear belonging to the typical human experience.”

“Stars burn out. They eventually fade away in time. I do not wish to be something you cannot attain. I am attainable. I am right here. I will always be right here."

“Then you are fragment of a star. Fallen from the grace of the old gods. A blessing for all those who see you or even get the slightest chance of seeing you."

Aemarr scoffed, pulling her into a side hug, his calloused hand ruffled her hair. “'Perfect? Little sister, you are far more fascinating than perfect. Perfect is boring. You, Aelora, are captivatingly mad.'”

“Remember the longer you stare the more captivated you get.” She teased with a mischievous glint in her crimson eyes.

"Perhaps, but then again, who wouldn't be captivated by a sister who wields a sword with such grace and ferocity, reads dusty tomes filled with forgotten lore, and embroiders gruesome tapestries with the same enthusiasm?"

Aelora laughed, a sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. "Perhaps you are right. Maybe being captivatingly mad is better than being perfect after all."

'The Defiant' with its hefty blade in the front of the ship. A blade gleamed an ominous obsidian black even from this distance. It carved a jagged silhouette against the setting sun, a constant reminder of the destruction Aelora was capable of. A vision from a nightmare, made horrifyingly real.

'Finally, I have something worthy of my making my own history.’ The excitement filled her with a glee she had felt since….well, ever.

“They are not finished. Father said another six weeks and it should be done.” Aelora declared. As she ran around as the shipbuilders continued to work on the war ship.

The monstrous sized warship destined to be the one cleaving through the ships of slavers, pirates and anyone who dared to exploit others. Unavoidable, a necessary monster, a needed predator against those who prey on others. She could not wait to be the one in control of this war ship.

‘No one take this blessing from me. No one can. No one will ever underestimate me again. No one will ever touch me without my own consent again. NO ONE.’

In her mind it will reflect her both positively and negatively. "To see a person, you must account for both the positive and the negative." she whispered. Mostly to the ship as well as herself.

Ravenous like a kraken who had smelled their prey or their ‘lunch.’

Jaded like the soul of a warrior who had done more than enough. Seen more than enough. A living ghost amongst the others.

Cynical like a woman who had been cheated on repeatedly. Bitter tears run down her face. Leaving her a ruin inside her bones.

Cunning like a thief who knows how to evade capture. A song on the wind of a man who stole the heart of a woman only to break it to pieces.

Suspicious of those who wear masks of familiarity. Masks of those who give her nothing after being given all of her.

Like a predator hunting its prey throughout the night. She will not be denied what she feels is her birthright. She promises she will not be afraid.

Feral. Untamed. Unleashed.

She will eat until she is satisfied.

'I am here as I have always been. I have not left. You just thought you saw someone else instead. This is who I have always been. Ostensibly. I am not blind like you think. I see who you are. I know what you do. Who is it to say I must be with you? I am like an unclaimed dragon, wild and free from everyone. I do not need anyone. I am not here. Yet I am not dead.’

Aelora wrote into her black leather journal dark quill resting in her right hand. Half asleep from her most recent nightmare.

Aemarr's snores from his study penetrating through the air of the still night. The burning incense smelling of lavender next to her bed.

Resting upon her bedside table. It did little to ease her mind nor did it quell the remnants left behind from her nightmare.

Her nails now digging into the palm of her hand. In foolish the hope she would quiet them down. Through the pain of her fingernails biting into the flesh of her palm. A desperate reminder she was indeed alive. Amongst the living.

Inside her nightmare, she stood upon a beach black like charcoal. Red beneath the surface like lava from beneath the thick layers of charcoal coloured sand.

The nightmare she had was so vivid. So real. It did not feel like a dream at all. Too real. Too much like it was happening right now, right in front of her. The nightmare she had was so vivid. So real. It did not feel like a dream at all. Too real. Too much like it was happening right now, right in front of her.

Blood dripped from her, as the scalding hot blood rain fell from above the sky as her feet dug beneath the sand. The beneath felt more like lava than a beach. Scorching heat seeping into her boots to her feet. Each step a new wave of heat, a new wave of pain burning through her feet. Like invisible burning hot coals pressed against the bottom of her boots.

The metallic taste on her tongue amongst the ash and smoke. The sting of the sand hitting her face as she continued to walk through. A guttural growl from beneath the deep layers of sand vibrated through her bones. As if seeped into her soul. She ran from the creature swimming through, a sharp fin digging through the sand, a sharp fin digging through the sand with a horrifying screech.

She ran quicker, but the sand became thicker and thicker preventing her from running as fast as she would have liked. Breath hitched in her throat as the sand became quicksand, sucking her legs down with a cold, suffocating grip. Panic clawed at her, mirroring the frantic scrabbling of her hands against the shifting grains. The guttural growl rose in volume, accompanied by the unmistakable tremor of approaching movement.

Are you here to eat me too?

She made the same horrifying screech as the creature was about to consume her whole. Her throat raw from the heaving panic ripping through her throat. A larger creature landed from the sky, a monstrous dragon, obsidian black scales gleaming with an unnatural, oily sheen. Its eyes burned like molten gold, fixing on Aelora with a chilling intensity. This wasn't just any dragon; it was a creature of nightmares, a twisted reflection of the power she yearned to wield.

Are you here to consume my soul?

Are you here to erase my name from history and existence?

The monstrous dragon dipped its head lower, its obsidian scales glinting an unsettling red in the rain of blood. Aelora braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the searing pain of dragonfire or the crushing weight of gnashing teeth.

But it never came. Instead, a deep, rumbling voice echoed in her mind, not unlike the approaching thunder. Why would I devour one who is already consumed?

"Why wouldn't you? Is it or Is it not your nature to consume?" she questioned it further. "You have enough power within your maw to eat me whole. Yet you refuse to do so. I need you to do this." Her voice strained as she continued to wait and wait.

Until the screams of her nightmares racked the body of her in the real world. The same white hair she saw in the training yard, she had seen in the corner of her eye again. Only this time she decided to follow it. Taking the candle with her inside the inky depths of darkness within the halls.

She could not let this pass a second time. She could not let this slip through her fingers like thin white chemise lace of her nightgown. Chasing after the wisp of white. If it had happened to someone else. She would have called them all sick with madness.

'Who are you?' she pondered as she continued to follow the person who she saw from the corner of her eye twice that day.

[gayisslayyyy]

awesamdream day 2. Warden.

god in a box, chained, locked, muzzled and flogged.

To think that is safer for him then the world, or at least is what he is told.

And how is the one who keeps him tame in a box and tells him to fear for his life and more?

That would be the Warden, the prison's master and lord.

He is must believe himself to be more merciful then the gods. To the scum he keeps watch of.

His prisoner, a snake, should submit to him more that any prisoner, because he is his lover.

He should not bite that hand that both feeds, chains and touches him with love.

He is the warden and in the prison he is a god

But even divine can't resist the passion that comes with living with someone.

The problem for a warden is the only one he sees all day.

Is the serpent he keeps in a cage.

[nymime]

Modern AU!

Steve Harrington listen to ‘Paquita la del barrio’, specially her song ‘Rata De Dos Patas’.

Is his favorite song to play when he is mad with Eddie, who doesn’t know what the song says, he only knows that he is in trouble with his sunshine.

—————

The lyric of the song:

Rata inmunda (Filthy Rat)

Animal rastrero (Creeping Animal)

Escoria de la vida (Scum of Life)

Adefesio mal hecho (Shoddy monstrosity)

Infrahumano (Subhuman)

Espectro del infierno (Specter of hell)

Maldita sabandija (Damn vermin)

Cuánto daño me has hecho (How much damage you’ve done to me)

Alimaña (Vermin)

Culebra ponzoñosa (Poisonous Serpent)

Deshecho de la vida (Waste of life)

Te odio y te desprecio (I hate you and despise you.)

Rata de dos patas (Two-legged Rat)

Te estoy hablando a ti (Im talking to you)

Porque un bicho rastrero (because a creeping bug)

Aún siendo el más maldito (even being the most cursed)

Comparado contigo (compared to you)

Se queda muy chiquito (is very small)

Maldita sanguijuela (Damn leech)

Maldita cucaracha (Damn roach)

Que infectas donde picas (who you infect where with bites)

Que hieres y que matas (who hurt and who kills)

Alimaña (Vermin)

Culebra ponzoñosa (Poisonous Serpent)

Deshecho de la vida (Waste of life)

Te odio y te desprecio (I hate you and despise you)

Rata de dos patas (Two-legged rat)

Te estoy hablando a ti (Im talking to you)

Porque un bicho rastrero (Because a creeping bug)

Aún siendo el más maldito (even being the most cursed

Comparado contigo (compared to you)

Se queda muy chiquito (is very small)

Me estás oyendo inútil (You’re listening to me useless)

Hiena del infierno (Hyena of hell)

Cuánto te odio y te desprecio (How much is hate you and despise you)

Maldita sanguijuela (Damn Leech)

Maldita cucaracha (Damn Roach)

Que infectas donde picas (Who you infects where you bite)

Que hieres y que matas (Who hurt and who kills)

Alimaña (Vermin)

Culebra ponzoñosa (poisonous serpent)

Deshecho de la vida (Waste of life)

Te odio y te desprecio (I hate you and despise you)

Rata de dos patas (Two-legged Rat)

Te estoy hablando a ti (Im talking to you)

Porque un bicho rastrero (Cause a creeping bug)

Aún siendo el más maldito (even being the mist cursed)

Comparado contigo (compared to you)

Se queda muy chiquito (is very small)

[mino-diabolik]

DARK FATE — Mystic 「Dark 03」 [CG]

[ Dark 02 ]

[ Location: Eden ]

???: … …Hm?

Fu... Upon what forbidden tree has the serpent coiled up around this time?

—Fade—

[ Location: Unknown — Demon Realm ]

Mystic: Uuh...

Yui: Mys, you're awake!

How are you? Does it hurt anywhere?

Mystic: Ah, well... my head's killin' me.

Yui: Sigh... I suppose that's normal. Ruki said you lost a lot of blood.

Mystic: ... Yeah...

... ... ...

——Yui!

Yui: Eh?! Wha—what's the matter, all of the sudden?

Mystic: Thank Satan, you're alright! I'm glad you made it...

... Uh... where are we?

Yui: This is KarlHeinz's castle... I believe.

Mystic: Karl——?!

( How...? )

Yui: Ruki arrived with you yesterday.

I was so worried... The medic said it was likely you wouldn't wake up for a few more days.

Mystic: Oh, ain't ya a sweetheart, little lamb?

Mystic pulls Yui's cheek.

Yui: Ow!

Mystic: I won't die from somethin' so small. You can't get rid of me that easily.

( Though, my life expectancy might've only been extended because of the Eclipse... )

So... where're the others?

Yui: Oh, you're right! I should tell them you've woken up!

—Fade—

[ Location: Guestroom — Eden Castle ]

Mystic looks at himself on the mirror. He slides a hand over the bandages around his torso.

Mystic: ( Hm... it tingles a bit, but it doesn't hurt anymore.

What kind of dark magic did this doctor perform? )

God, I’m so tired…

He plops down on the edge of the bed.

Mystic: ( … I wonder if KarlHeinz himself is actually aware that I’m here…

I feel like I’m intruding somewhere I really shouldn’t be… )

—Flashback—

Kazuha: Here I believed the lowest scum that aligned himself with Vampires had long since rotted away in his own misery.

—End Flashback—

Mystic: … …

( What am I supposed to do now?

Not only did I deceive them. I fought back. If I ever dare to show my face again, I’m as good as dead.

——And my mother…

What will they do if they figure out she covered for me? )

—Knock, knock—

The door opens. The Mukami emerge.

Yuma: Ya’re a real roach. Just doesn’t die.

Mystic: Thanks, babe. You got my heart burstin’ with love.

Kou: You really took one for us back there, huh?

Azusa: Yeah…

Mystic: Just committin' to my word. Not much else.

Ruki: How are you feeling?

Mystic: A lil' fatigued. It could be worse…

Mystic brings an arm over his shoulder and pulls at his shirt to show off the bandages.

Mystic: ——You tell me.

Ruki: ... It does look like it was a large laceration.

Yui: Hey, Mys, what’s that on your shoulder?

Mystic: Hm? What’re you talkin’ about?

Yui: There. You have a black mark on your shoulder.

Mystic: Ah… Y’all haven’t seen it before, huh?

Yuma: Seen what?

—Rustle—

Mystic: ——This guy here.

Kou: Ohh!

Mystic: It was a gift from a friend.

Yui: A friend?

Mystic: The son of a Vibora. His family specializes in pigments… with a certain twist.

Yuma: What’d ya mean by that?

Mystic: ——Come here.

Yuma: Ha?

Mystic: Just come here, I ain’t gonna bite you!

Yuma reluctantly approaches Mystic’s side. Mystic extends his arm. There is a short spark from the outline of his tattoo. A snake pounces off his skin, chomping its jaws near the Vampire’s face.

—Hiss!—

Yuma: Wha—?!

Yui: Ah…!

The viper hisses. It coils back around Mystic’s arm.

Mystic: Did say I wasn’t gonna bite you.

——His family uses the pigments to make ink. Most are in children’s books, where they create moving pictures.

But, well, it has other uses.

Ruki: Enchanting…

Ruki leans down to inspect it. The snake curiously flicks its tongue at him.

Mystic: Oh? It likes you.

Ruki: Is that so?

Ruki tries to reach for it. Mystic's fingers flex. The serpent flinches back. It tightens around Mystic's arm and swiftly sinks back into the black ink.

Ruki: ... ...!

Mystic: ... ...?

Kou: Hahaha! More like you scare it.

Mystic: Huh... how odd.

( It's never done that before... )

「Monologue」

After awakening, I come to find Ruki has brought me into the Eden, KarlHeinz's castle. Though the wounds have been sealed, I can't help but feel them throb. I know my family will find me—all of us—eventually. The walls of this fortress will only hold for so long.

「 Dark 03 — End 」

[ Dark 04 ]

[starry-stan-blog]

bingqiu | 3 795 words | rated T | hurt/comfort

hope y’all enjoy it !!

[forsakenprogam]

Why doesn't anybody talk about simo hayha from Shuumatsu No valkyrie?

He so underrated tbh! I wonder how his face looks under there~👀 I think he has cute face undernath..

Whats your fav ror ships/ship and why?

Whats your least fav ships/ship and why?

☆👓-Anon.

Thanks for asking Anon! And honestly, I agree with that sooo much!

SIMO IS LITERALLY SO CUTE, but them boots are… He probably galloping with them things😭

Also for one of my favorite ships…

I have to go with Raiden x Thrud

BROO THIS SHIP IS SOO CUTE I WANNA CRY

AND WHEN THRUD DECIDED TO DIE WITH RAIDEN BECAUSE SHE LOVED HIM WAS TOO MUCH FOR ME😭 Overall, one of favorite ship in this series.

MY OVERALL FAVORITE SHIP IS ADAM X EVE

LIKE I LOVE THAT SHIP WITH ALL MY HEART OMGOODNESS😍😍😍

ADAM WAS SUCH A CHAD FOR STAYING WITH EVE. and FUCK the serpent…

And for one of my least favorite ships… It has to be Kojiro x Poseidon. Like, how can you even ship them? Poseidon saw Kojiro as worthless scum and I’m GLAD Kojiro turned his ass into chopped sushi💀

(I also found this picture on Pinterest and it freaks me out tho😭 Like wtf that is CHILD KOJIRO)

[leagueofdccm]

👑.DEATH TOO, MUST BE EARNED

Born and Raised on the Southside of Riverdale, the so-called wrong side of the tracks they say. Gun shooting night after night, the scent of smoke invading your personal space. It’s suffocating, but you can’t find an escape from what’s clogging your lungs, and blinding your visions. Blood in your hands, the blood of a brother or an enemy. When you are born you are automatically labeled as scum, worthless, and nothing more but a disgrace to humanity. Those RAISED in the Southside end up being nothing but TOXIC to the little prep town just next door. We call those goodie shits Riverdale assholes. And this story is about a boy who grew up to be a ruthless leader, grew up to make the serpents whole again, to give that gang meaning once again. He started out young, mom & dad didn’t get along, yelling stretched across the entire room, strings of curses and the scent of alcohol heavy on his fathers breath. Cries from a young child, one that would cling on to her brother.... hoping it would just end. When will it ever end ? Pleading and so much begging ! Begging for him to make it better, and Jughead tried, oh he really did. But what can a child do to help another child ? And the end Gladys Jones decided the best would be to take the youngest, Jellybean Jones and run off for a better life, wherever that was. Leaving FP Jones & her eldest, Jughead Jones on their own. Though promises she made that she would come back, to come back and take him away. He held on to those promises, looking back at his drunk father, it’s a pathetic sight, one that makes his heart wince.  He too will one day leaves this man to drown in his own vomit.

But mom never did come back for him, he stayed with his fuck up of a father. At a young age, Jughead Jones had to man up------- leave the childhood he never had, behind. And fend for himself. Cooking, and cleaning after him and his father. Everything that a parent should be doing for their child, he was doing for them, for him a child... and his alcoholic father. Jughead learned to drive at the age of 13, his dad telling him once that it would be for the best. Best for both of them. Best so his father wouldn’t have to drive drunk. Allowing his son to drop him off at the Whyte Wyrm, and calling him to pick him up---- that’s if he didn’t pass out first. If Jughead even cared much to do so, took up stealing, took up smoking and drugs at such a young age. Girls and a life of THRILL ! But it makes sense when you are living a cruel world that wants you DEAD.

Eventually, Jughead Jones starts to slowly become more involved with the Serpents. Becoming interested in this TOXIC life his father seemed to adore oh so much. Before becoming part of the hang... he had to go through an initiation and would be known as a prospect, dealing with those above him... watching as they glared at him, as they chuckle giving him bullshit jobs. But he makes a promise to himself, he’ll make sure to have them clean dog shit for years when he’s the fucking king. He has royalty in his blood. He has dealt with so much shit his entire life. and the Serpents are turning out to be reckless.  

Three Stages :

1. Memorize and recite the SERPENT LAW.

2. Must retrieve a knife from the RATTLESNAKE CAGE.

3. Physical demonstration of loyalty. a.k.a--- a GRUNTLET. 

Joining at the age of 15. Involved in drug trades, violence..... once a shy boy, lonely and lost. Who kept his head down, typing away on a cheap laptop. Would soon... step out of his comfort zone, day by day opening up to the world. Filled with much more confidence, determination. Lack of emotion for spilling blood, and cracking skulls of those he hurt. Tainted by the darkness, welcoming it like it was an old friend. At the age of 20, Jughead Jones became the leader of the Serpents when his father was murdered and left for dead by enemies. Leading not only for Jughead to take control of the Serpents. But to fix the mess his father started.

Jughead desired to make Riverdale fall underneath the Serpents Law, take back everything that belonged to them. Kill off the gangs, or have them submit and become loyal, to the Serpents once and for all. Dead or alive. it didn’t matter. Serpents no longer will kneel, or lose one of their own. No one will dare cross them again. Or cross him. The southside bows to no one. He’s not kind he is dangerous. Controlling the southside as his own. Every Serpent, and every person who breathes his air, better not cross his path. He’s not a man of mercy when he becomes a king. Death is death, if you die... you did. If you cross him, you die. Death will be an option after you face punishments. Life is cruel, and is never fair.

👑. STICKS & STONES, BITCH.

Name : Jughead Jones the III

Face Claim : Cole Sprouse

Age : 18 20′s & late 20′s.

Eye color : Blue

Hair : Black

Gender : Male

Occupation : Leader of the Southside Serpents

Nicknames : Prince of the Serpents, King of the Serpents, Jug... ( Juggie ) Snake.

Date of Birth : Oct 28th

High School : Southside High

Acquaintances ( relationship ) [ depends ] : Betty, Toni, Sweet Pea, Penny Peabody, Fangs, Serpent Oc’s, Jellybean.

👑. THE DEVIL’S GOT NOTHING ON ME, MY FRIEND

NOTE // .

A leader of the Serpents at the age of 20 after his father was killed on the streets.

Attended Southside High Graduated Highschool Doesn’t attend college.

Has mix feelings for his father. A lot of hate. A lot of love

Hates when people praise his father since he thinks he did a shit job. ( neglected by FP a lot )

Smokes / but doesn’t drink much. At all sometimes.

Having to grow up early, to take care of his alcoholic father.

Basically, a babysitter for his father

Sereveal tattoos

Hates his mom. ( though……. that’s his father’s fault mostly. )

No longer has his beanie.

Writes less ( or hasn’t at all / but will return to it eventually )

Hates Northsiders.

Has full control of the Southside.

Wants control of Riverdale after he becomes King. ( does gain control when king. )

He’s a little out there. A loose screw in the head. possessive.

Has killed before. ( & will continue killing )

Has tortured before.

Calm but when you push his buttons he snaps.

Hates Humanity.

Close Friends w/ Sab.rina ( witch-like who lives in Greendale )Also close to Toni & ( from the Northside Betty. )

Will argue and argue ( only if you’re someone important. if you aren’t, he just goes for the hit. ) Tempered.

A FEW DETAILS ON THIS VERSE:

Age: 18-25 [ appropriate ages since this verse will contain violence, nsfw, drugs, gangs, ect. ]

He lives in his own apartment on the Southside

Gang Leader of the South Side Serpents. [ This will depend though on the age. Jughead ONLY becomes a leader when turning the age of 20. because of the death of his father. ]

He’s a smoker. [ will be tagged just in case ]

He does ( illegal ) fighting. MMA —-

Short-tempered

Tends to be possessive. [ of those he comes to care about. ]

Jughead still tends to write from time to time, still holding a soft spot on wanting to publish a book one day. But with being a leader in a gang, his concerns are towards his work, and not what he loves.

Becomes Serpent King [ only after his fathers’ death ]

Is in debt to Penny Peabody

Has a soft spot for Betty Cooper, Toni Topaz & his little sister Jellybean Jones.

[metaladam]

From the bowels of eternal fire Risen deep from the womb of hell I breathe the power Stricken from the poisonous tongue Of filth and scum Strangulate the earth of the purest blood I laid in the eagle's nest surrounded by serpents

[manysmallhands]

#Uncool50 Index page

Having made a post indexing my #FearOfMu21c posts, i thought that I might as well index all the #Uncool50 posts too, in case anyone wanted to have a look thru those. This was a challenge posted last year on twitter where those taking part had to pick their 50 favourite singles since the punk era. As well as doing this, I took it upon myself to write a post about each of them, which i eventually stockpiled here (for want of anything else to do with them). A quick word of warning: unlike my posts this year, they were often turned around to short order and consequently i'm less happy with them than the ones i did this time.

Anyway, after we found that most people weren't really interested in picking anything much released after 1985, the organiser (my twitter friend Arron Wright, or @nonoxcol as he is there) decided to do a purely 21st century challenge this year, which is where #FearOfMu21c comes in. But anyway, these were my #Uncool 50 picks. They're listed in no particular order, other than 11 pts were given to the best five songs, with the top one getting an extra point too (as noted below).

1. Abba - Knowing Me, Knowing You

2. Tom Tom Club _ Genius Of Love

3. Dexys Midnight Runners - Come On Eileen (11 pts)

4. Madness - Michael Caine

5. .The Blue Nile - Tinseltown In The Rain

6. Strawberry Switchblade - Since Yesterday

7. Suzanne Vega - Marlene On The Wall

8. Madonna - Dress You Up

9. Nu Shooz - I Can't Wait

10. Kate Bush - Hounds Of Love

11. New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle

12. Talulah Gosh - Steaming Train

13. Public Enemy - Bring The Noise

14. Tears For Fears - Sowing The Seeds Of Love

15. Deee-Lite - Groove Is In The Heart

16. The KLF - Last Train To Trancentral (12 pts)

17. The Orb - Orb In Dub EP

18. Stereolab - Super Electric EP

19. A Tribe Called Quest - Check The Rhime

20. Nirvana - Oh The Guilt

21. Pulp - Lipgloss

22. Underworld - Cowgirl

23. Ween - Freedom Of '76

24. R.E.M. - At My Most Beautiful

25. Sleater-Kinney - You're No Rock n Roll Fun

26. Jeffrey Lewis - The Chelsea Hotel Oral Sex Song

27. Amerie - 1 Thing

28. LCD Soundsystem - North American Scum

29. Electrelane - To The East

30. The Go! Team - Doing It Right

31. Florence + The Machine - Dog Days Are Over (11 pts)

32. Eux Autres - You're Alight

33. MGMT - Flash Delirium

34. Warpaint - Undertow

35. St Vincent - Cruel

36. Sharon Van Etten - Serpents

37. The Soundcarriers - Boiling Point

38. Tullycraft - Lost In Light Rotation

39. The Clientele - On A Summer Trail

40. Trust Fund/Joanna Gruesome - Spilt 12" EP

41. The Juan Maclean - A Simple Design

42. Faith Healer - Again (11 pts)

43. Kendrick Lamar - King Kunta

44. Little Mix - Black Magic

45. Grimes - Kill Vs Maim

46. Solange - Cranes In The Sky

47. Muna - I Know A Place (11 pts)

48. Fred Thomas - Voiceover

49. U.S. Girls - Rosebud

50. Jeanines - Things Change EP

[foxofninetales]

Fic superlatives: 3, 13, 30 <3

Apologies for being so long in answering this, and thank you for the ask!

3: Most tender

Okay, I'm going to go with a slightly weird choice here, but the word was specifically tender - not soft, or sweet, or gentle - and I don't think I've written anything more achingly, rawly tender than this paragraph of Serpent Heart, where Hei Xiazi and Xiuxiu are pulling the curse-skin away from Xie Yuchen:

He does not resist as they strip him of this last layer of skin. It comes off far less willingly than the others, viscid and tenacious, but he lies quiescent in Hei Xiazi’s arms, still except for faint, painful tremors as each fleshy tatter is pulled away. Hei Xiazi helps with the larger areas of arm and chest and thigh, but it is Xiuxiu’s fingers that work free his feet and hands, his mouth and ears and nose, and it is Xiuxiu’s fingers that stroke the last translucent scales from Xiao Hua’s eyes.

I already answered 13 previously, so in keeping with your theme of 3s I'm going to answer 23 instead. :)

23: Most excited to post:

Oh no, what have I done, this is a hard question! There are so many ways of being excited to post something! Most nervous would have been Origin, because that was the first fic I ever posted to AO3. Most giddy would be those delightful fics that I slammed out in a glorious rush of inspiration - such as Ad Hoc Services or Mating Behaviors of the Nurse Shark - and was still riding that gleeful high even as I hit post. And then of course every single exchange/gift work has that stressful/hopeful "will they like it?" feeling as you wait to see if your recipient will be pleased.

30: Best planned-out fic

Intersection - no question about it. It's hard to write 70,000 words without at least some planning. Admittedly, "planning" in this case meant "write all the emotional/whumpy/dramatic scenes, then figure out how to string them into a coherent plot", but still!

The one that actually is going to require the most planning - and one of the main reasons I haven't worked on it more - is The Scum Tomb-Raider's Self Saving System. You would think this one would be the least planning, since it literally just follows the plot of TLTR, but because of the conceit of the gaming/system mechanic, I really have to sit down and figure out the logistics of the point gains/losses before I can write the story. Which is numbers, not writing, and UGH.

[very-grownup]

Best Books of 2022

Best "I think you wrote Lois McMaster Bujold fanfic and I respect that" Novel: WINTER'S ORBIT.

Best "Oh shit THAT'S how foot binding works?!" Novel: IRON WIDOW.

Best Whale Ranking Novel: MOBY DICK.

Best Novel About Sperm: MOBY DICK.

Best Novel About a Cannibal: MOBY DICK.

Best Novel About Forced Self-Cannibalism: THE GRANDMASTER OF DEMONIC CULTIVATION.

Best Novel Recommended By A 10-Year-Old: THE GIRL WHO DRANK THE MOON.

Best Re-read of a Novel First Read as a 10-Year-Old: I WANT TO GO HOME!

Best End of the World Novel: THE LAST POLICEMAN.

Best Lesbian Romance Novel: HOW TO FIND A PRINCESS.

Best Romantic Accounting Novel: THE RUIN OF A RAKE.

Best Romance Novel With a Disaster Bi Lead: CHEF'S KISS.

Best Romance Novel Where the Protagonist Doesn't Know It's Romance: THE SCUM VILLAIN'S SELF-SAVING SYSTEM.

Best Fantasy Trilogy First Novel: THE STARDUST THIEF.

Best Fantasy-ish Trilogy: SON OF A TRICKSTER, TRICKSTER DRIFT, and RETURN OF THE TRICKSTER.

Best Fantasy Standalone Novel: THE SPEAR CUTS THROUGH WATER.

Best Use of Ringo Starr: THE EINSTEIN INTERSECTION.

Best Book You Read In High School But I Didn't: THE GREAT GATSBY.

Best Unionization Novel: SILK AND INSIGHT.

Best Story of a Complicated Man: THE ODYSSEY.

Best Short Story Collection Containing a Cake Recipe: MOIRA'S PEN.

Best Meta-non-fictional Fictional Review Collection: A Perfect Vaccuum.

Best Book By Someone Who Used To Live Nextdoor: HALFBREED.

Best Book Adapted Into An Orson Welles Film: THE TRIAL.

Best Use Of Dick Jokes: IF THIS BOOK EXISTS, YOU'RE IN THE WRONG UNIVERSE.

Best Rotting Nightmare Novella: NOTHING BUT BLACKENED TEETH.

The full list of competitors below.

Mister Impossible

Whispers Under Ground

The Serpent's Secret

Sabriel

Game of Stars

Lirael

Once Ghosted, Twice Shy

Abhorsen

A Snake Falls to Earth

Across the Wall: A Tale of the Abhorsen and Other Stories

Winter's Orbit

The Best of Gene Wolfe: A Definitive Retrospective of his Finest Short Fiction

Iron Widow

Tar Baby

Moby Dick

The Marrow Thieves

Popular Hits of the Showa Era

Heaven Official's Blessing (volume 2)

The Prince and the Puppet Thief

The Empress of Salt and Fortune

The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains

When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain

The Door Into Summer

Spoiler Alert

The Great Gatsby

Wicked As You Wish

Halfbreed

Never Let Me Go

Can't Escape Love

In the Miso Soup

The Girl Who Drank the Moon

The Björkan Sagas

Artificial Condition

Starship Troopers

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (volume 2)

The Turn of the Screw and Other Stories

The Beautiful Ones

Every Living Thing

A Prince on Paper

Broken Homes

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (volume 2)

The Last Policeman

Split Tooth

Lost in the Never Woods

The Three-Body Problem

Flip the Script

Bitter Gold Hearts

It All Comes Back to You

Mistress Masham's Repose

How to Find a Princess

I Want to go Home!

Woman Running in the Mountains

The Little Warrior (Jill the Reckless)

Son of a Trickster

The Einstein Intersection

Captive Prince

The Trial

Trickster Drift

Six German Romantic Tales

Return of the Trickster

If Beale Street Could Talk

Heaven Official's Blessing (volume 3)

Japanese Tales

Akata Warrior

Foxglove Summer

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (volume 3)

The Loophole

The Ruin of a Rake

Complicity

The Stardust Thief

The Hanging Tree

Beauty and the Besharam

Some Do Not ...

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (volume 3)

The Joining of Dingo Radish

Prince's Gambit

The Spear Cuts Through Water

Chef's Kiss

Monkey Beach

The Hourglass Throne

She Who Became the Sun

The Strange Journeys of Colonel Polders

Heaven Official's Blessing (volume 4)

The Sunbearer Trials

The Toynbee Convector

Kings Rising

The Odyssey

Moira's Pen

Revenge

The Changeling

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (volume 4)

If This Book Exists, You're in the Wrong Universe

The Wolf and the Woodsman

The Husky and his White Cat Shizun (volume 1)

A Perfect Vacuum

It Takes Two to Tumble

Silk and Insight

In Deeper Waters

Nothing but Blackened Teeth

I Will Fear No Evil