#there. that shall suffice hopefully.

[jazzkolart]

Just two more days 'till the show begins Everyone!

[sekaiijijou]

ahhhhh i forgot to post this on kagepro day………… ermm it’s fine at least i’m posting it now :] happy late 8/15 everyone

[the-muppet-joker]

So tempting... <3

How much can he fit inside?

[soriastrider]

Please please please tell about various shenanigans the shadow demon has committed

lol okay lemme go dig through discord for some more shenanigans I can talk about

roxy and jake have an ongoing thing where sometimes jake will surreptitiously take over and do his best to imitate dirk, and they keep track of how long it takes roxy to figure out that it's actually jake in control (obviously this is dependent on roxy not being able to see dirk's eyes, since that's a dead giveaway)

jake likes to do the thing where you tap someone's opposite shoulder so when they look you aren't there, except he's actually not anywhere. he's lurking in the shadows and just sneaks a little shadow tendril out to bop dirk's shoulder while dirk's at his desk

sometimes jake decides to have fun dressing dirk up in outfits while possessing him. this is usually at least partly a thinly-veiled attempt to get dirk into cosplay for jake's favorite movies (please imagine jake gleefully pulling out the blue body paint while dirk complains loudly in his head)

[creekschaoscorner]

GUESS WHO SAW THE FNAF MOVIE

It’s theory time baby 😎 because I am incapable of being normal about things I like!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT, YOU HAVE BEENW WARNED

First things first, I’ve gotta say, I kinda love the bait and switch they did with the Freddy and Golden Freddy spirits, as much as it was also a little confusing.

Looking at this photo right, you’d assume that the kid in the brown shirt is freddy and the kid in the yellow shirt with the tophat is golden freddy, right? And yet, when Max is being lured towards Freddy, it’s the kid in the yellow shirt luring her closer, and it’s his voice that comes from inside.

And in the only scene where Golden Freddy appears, so does the kid in the brown shirt. He even says “Not Freddy” when Abby calls him Freddy. He’s the leader of the group the whole time, and seemingly the most intelligent, always portrayed standing out from the rest. Not to mention, something very important- Golden Freddy never actually enters the building. He stops outside when Abby goes in. And in the dream sequence where the kids attack Mike- it’s the kid with the bunny ears, the kid with the hook, the girl with pigtails, and the kid in the yellow shirt with a tophat. Bonnie, Foxy, Chica, Freddy. Not Golden Freddy, because he isn’t in the building. Why he isn’t? I don’t know. But another thing: we’ve seen a blonde kid with straight cut bangs before

The Vengeful Spirit from UCN. And the way the kid in the brown shirt watches William at the end of the movie? You can’t tell me that’s not a vengeful spirit thing to do.

Anyways. Finally getting to my actual point with this. The theory!

So, the cupcake. Pretty much the most feral animatronic in the whole movie. Overall much more aggressive then the other four, to the point that prior to the start of the movie it was locked away in a cabinet. It behaves pretty much as Chica’s attack dog.

And where have we seen Chica (or the little girl inside of her) with a dog before? 🤔

….yeah you probably could’ve guessed where i was going with this. This theory is pretty much just speculation, that I only really have two main pieces of evidence for: number one being what I already mentioned, that the cupcake is overall much more aggressive and less intelligent then the other animatronics; number 2 being that there is absolutely no way a human child could’ve been fit into that cupcake (ignoring the fact that all five of the missing children are already accounted for). But a dog, especially a little one? One of the breeds we associate with being “ankle biters”? Absolutely

Anyways yeah I genuinely could not tell you whether this is the case or not but I thought it was a cool possibility and it’s the interpretation I’m sticking with 🫡

(Also it was a nice touch that the guy the cupcake mauled was named Carl. I appreciated that nod to the fanbase, as well as his midnight motorist t shirt. Honestly all of the easter eggs and references in this movie were top tier)

Overall, i loved the movie and it will be plaguing my thoughts for the next couple of weeks. If you read all of this, thanks! I appreciate it

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Inspired by a conversation me and my friend had-

Please reblog for more votes!

[malewife-urahara]

Hai urashin prompt: beach day special in which Shinji hates the sun and Kisuke took “clothing optional” as a sign from god. OR. Second prompt woah 2 for 1. Angst prompt: small talk about guilt, regret, and kissing guys with issues.

To preface, anon I am so sorry that this took so long. It has been a truly absurd amount of time which you did not deserve. This most like does not do your request justice but I have attempted to as asked and answered the second prompt you gave. I spent much too long hung up on the first prompt only to do the other one, funny how that works. I can only hope you derive some form of entertainment from this <3

"Do you believe in fate?" 

Considering he had been asleep prior to a few seconds ago he had not been thinking, Shinji had simply been sleeping, peaceful and warm and hogging all the blankets in the communal area the Visored occupied and designated as a resting spot. 

He blinked slowly, turning to the darker shape against the darkness of the room, squinting.

It had been literal years and suddenly Kisuke was dropping in for a late night chat like they met up every other weekend. It was no surprise he knew where they lived of course, probably the one to set up the protections around their place, including the training room that had appeared overnight. 

Kisuke was really going to make him get out of the blankets into the cold of the room wasn’t he? 

‘Course he was, the bastard.

Shinji knew the others would bitch if they kept chatting though and disrupted their oh so precious sleeping schedules. Unfortunately he can’t actually begrudge them that, given the way sleep evades them on most nights. With a grumble he shoves the blankets off of himself and follows the shadow of Kisuke who ghosts along the wide halls of the warehouse, instead of going into one of the main rooms that has actual lighting he goes straight to the door, not stopping or slowing and forcing Shinji to scramble into shoes, trying to get himself into any sort of order. “I was just thinking,” Kisuke continues smoothly once Shinji catches up with him, “that everything fell into place. Did things happen as they were meant to, or, was it unfortunate circumstance?” 

“Never woulda got an abomination like that,” Kisuke’s gaze slides to him before skittering away as he covers up his smile with his fan. That’s a new accessory, right along with his clothing. Shinji wonders what else about him has changed.  

Green fits him, he looks like some kind of plant, bright and healthy. Shinji shoves his hands deeper in his pockets and hunches further, shoulders curved inward. “That’s not all you were thinkin’ about.”

Of course he deliberately left open his statement, Kisuke, never known for taking a hint, makes a noncommittal sound neither affirmation nor denial in response. No, he continues leading Shinji on, taking turns on the street seemingly at random and he trails after automatically as the chatter never once ceases though it all starts to blur together. 

After a while just to switch things up Shinji swings around in front of Kisuke and begins to walk backwards. Shinji tells himself it's because he has a brand and needs to stick with it, not because he wants to keep Kisuke in his sight, though that would be wise.

Kisuke’s steps don’t falter at the action, he never tries to brush past him, their steps actually remain synchronized as he silently indicates obstacles with his eyes. With a glance left, Shinji swerves far right, grin widening at the way Kisuke’s trying to trip him up. 

Eventually they come upon a darkneed building, this does not deter Kisuke who slides open the door and smoothly steps inside. 

When he notices Shinji’s hesitance, he pops his head back out, silver eyes seeming to glow in the dim light as he offers up a pout, “You’re coming right? After I went to all this effort to bring you, it sure would be a shame if you walked off now–”

“What’s in it for me?” Shinji snaps, already stepping inside. That same force that compelled him to follow Kisuke pulled him along in the pitch black, he stopped trying to fight it long ago, if he had attempted it at all on this chilly night. Besides, he was already out of bed and came all this way already. He may as well see this through to whatever inevitable unfortunate end it leads to. 

“Oh, mm, lots of things.” Kisuke’s certainly gotten more foreboding in the years apart, Shinji glances around for lack of anything else, not knowing what they’re doing here. It’s a sparsely styled if outdated shop with a few rows of shelves holding an eclectic cluster of items and a some walls space There’s a low table with cushions off in the corner it seems more like stepping in someone’s living room and he has the urge to remove his shoes 

Moving around and keeping up the idle chatter, stuffing things in a bag and Shinji can’t stop watching him, “You robbin’ the place?”

Kisuke doesn’t answer as he glides between shelves, picking things up, occasionally scrutinizing them only to put them back. 

A few minutes later when the bag is considerably more filled he mutters offhandedly, “You still like natto don't you?” Kisuke doesn't even give Shinji a chance to answer before dropping a container of presumably natto in the bag along with whatever other mystery items he’s shoved in there.   

The bag is lumpy, misshapen with its burden by the time they exit, Shinji wonders if the handle is going to snap. It feels like something has to give. 

Yet still they walk in relative silence, the occasional rustle of the bag as Kisuke switches it between his hands, or the sharp noise his geta make with each step. 

Suddenly, he stops and Shinji forces himself to as well not wanting to back into a telephone pole, not wanting to part just yet, ready to fire off a barb to get him to parry it Kisuke beats him to the punch, since when did he get in the habit of making the first move.

“This was not an attempt to lure you back with some harebrained scheme, it may have been to reconnect, or maybe I just wanted to offload some products before they expired.” 

He smiles and it is brittle, so much so that all the things he could respond with die as Kisuke leans in close. His eyes seem to glow in the dim lights of the street, mercury piercing through an ill fitting gigai straight to his tainted soul “Oh, I could have loved you.” 

“You saying ya can’t now?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, the words slow though instinctual.  

A hand comes up to hold his face and somehow Kisuke’s cane and fan have disappeared. Yet the two of them are still here, standing together on a dimly lit abandoned street at some ungodly hour.  

“No.” He says after a moment, voice nothing more than a low murmur, “but things are different now.” 

“Circumstances have shifted. Choices that are not mine or yours to make are in the process of being conceived. And love…. would just be another way to hurt.”

“Goodnight Hirako-san.” He falls back onto his feet fully, geta sounding loud in the silence of the night with a decisive clack. 

Stepping away without hesitation into the inky black of the poorly lit street. Leaving Shinji to the silence of said dark street, he barely has time for the complicated tangle of feelings to emerge before he registers the weight in his hands.

It’s the bag from earlier, now in his grasp. Shinji glimpses the eye-catching crimson kanji on the bag proclaiming Urahara Shoten, he’s standing outside the warehouse with no sign that there was ever anyone with him. 

Shinji reaches out to the door to sneak back in, planning to toss the bag on their pile of crates that serves as a makeshift table before collapsing when something goes fluttering to the floor just as he goes to grasp the knob. 

Bending down with an annoyed hiss he realizes it’s a coupon– 

Buy three cartons of non-explosive radioactive dust and get one canister of pest repellent for free. Exclusions may apply. Offer does not expire. 

–there’s a cartoonishly drawn Kisuke off to the side gesturing to the deal the coupon boasts. What a terrible advertisement. What a horrific sounding product. His jaw cracks painfully as he lets out helpless barks of laughter into the biting late night air and it’s not love because it can’t be.

[strwberri-milk]

hii !! i really like ur works and writings, can i request for the LAD boys with a reader who has a hard time sleeping? thankuu💗💗

oh you mean ME - hopefully these turn out well bc theyre all based off my own experiences :(( i def agree that 1) resting w your eyes closed is better than nothing and 2) i would sleep so much better if i was sitting in rafayels studio as he worked but for now his tender moments shall have to suffice

Xavier unfortunately does not share your struggle at all :(. He very easily falls asleep so his main issue is just staying awake. However, when you tell him that you're struggling to fall asleep he decides to do things that make him extra sleepy for you.

He'll change the temperature of his apartment to be more comfortable for you, dropping it a few degrees so you could cuddle with him easier under the sheets. He also has lots of comfortable clothes for you to wear when you sleep, holding you close to him as he softly speaks to you.

The conversation doesn't really mean anything - it's more just like white noise that you can tune out to to try and focus on something that's not your inability to sleep. He's there with you every step of the way, doing his best to wait until you fall asleep to go to bed himself.

Zayne reminds you that even if you can't sleep simply just resting with your eyes closed is much better than nothing. He'll make sure your sleep hygiene is also top notch, reminding you to stay away from your bed and that you're doing work or mindless scrolling away from your bedroom.

He'll also encourage you to keep busy during the day - the more you move the more tired you'll get, hopefully. He isn't going to make your day center around going to bed but he is going to do his best to help you.

When night comes he'll be there however you want him. He'll hold you close or talk at you until you finally manage to sleep, whatever it is. He's not going to want you to go right to medication but he might grab some things over the counter and help you find your best fit if that's something that you need.

Rafayel is ASMR extraordinaire. When you tell him that you can't sleep he isn't really sure what to do other than make bedtime as appealing to you as he physically can.

One night when you can't sleep you decide to hunt him down, knowing that he was going through another bout of no sleep thanks to his artwork. You stumble into his studio drowsily, wiping your eyes. He's immediately at your side, the soft music playing paired with his gentle touch as he leads you to a seat he bought specifically for you to be able to watch him as he works.

You watch him for a bit but the quiet music with his brushes against the canvas knocks you the fuck out, falling asleep shortly thereafter. He won't notice for a few hours, just thinking you were watching him paint but once he's figured out you've fully fallen asleep he'll put you back in bed. You've accidentally conditioned yourself to fall asleep at the sound of painting though which is both good and bad.

[corvidcrowned]

Aha… shin day isn’t it. Hopefully this shall suffice

[onskepa]

Stxeli: Those Eyes

Here is another chapter of the ongoing series! I hope you all enjoy~!!

Stxeli series

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

Another day, another way. Neytiri awakens as usual in her own little hammock. She secretly hates it. Hates going to sleep and waking up alone. Of course she could go to her parents and sleep with them, but that would mean to be beside her.

Every since her mother brought back that human child, things have changed and were not the same. Having to adjust not just her elder sister's death but the arrive of the new infant.

Neytiri honestly doesnt know how to react to the new addition. She doesnt hate the infant, but doesnt love it either. Complicated feelings swirl in her heart. Seeking Eywa will only confuse her more. Tsu'tey isnt much help at the moment. Just being alone with her thought to hopefully figure out her inner feelings.

Mo'at had a long list of duties to do and unfortunately she cant keep an eye on stxeli for the whole day. Eytukan cant take care of their baby either as he is to lead the hunters for another nights feast.

So that only leaves neytiri.

"It will just be for awhile neytiri. As a big sister, it is also your responsibility to take care of your sister stxeli. I know you can do your best with her". After that Eytukan left to attend his olo'eyktan duties. Leaving neytiri and stxeli alone with each others company.

Neytiri looks over that the human child, not really getting near her. These past week has been a blur for the young na'vi. Does her parent really expect her to love the human child? After everything her kind did to her people? To her real sister?

Stxeli being just herself, makes sounds and looks at her surroundings. Her big eyes landing on neytiri. Their eyes meet, and a wave of excitement flowed through the baby. Asking to be carried by neytiri. Yet the na'vi wont move. Her eyes never wavering from those human eyes.

Little stxeli kept waving her arms around desiring to be held. She squeals and would make noises her mother would usually respond to. But neytiri still sits still. Observing the child and what its trying to do. Seeking attention is what she gathered.

Grabbing one of her mother's baskets, she puts stxeli in the basket and proceeds to carry her around like that.

It wasnt what stxeli wanted but it shall suffice for now. At least she gets to have a wide view of things. From the tall trees, to familiar faces that wave at her direction.

Stxeli preferred to be carried by the young girl who keeps staring at her. She has pretty eyes and wanted to get a closer look. Looks so much like mama and papa's eyes! Little stxeli tried to the girl's attention by making noise, but no response.

Stxeli wasnt having that.

Grabbing one of the braids that was hanging close to stxeli, she yanked it rather hard. This caused neytiri to hiss. In return, stxeli laughed like it was a funny thing to her. Neytiri had such tiny fangs! Smaller than mother's fangs.

Yanking again to the get the same reaction, neytiri was quick to be annoyed. Putting down the basket, she glares down at the child. "Such a demanding thing you are".

Deciding not the carry the basket, neytiri proceeds to drag it instead, with her tail. Not wanting the little infant to tug on her hair again.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

its only been 2 hours, and neytiri is near her wits end. Little stxeli was screaming at the top of her lungs, and young neytiri fears it would attract unwanted predators. Sighing in distress, she puts down the basket to see stxeli rolling around in it, her little face red and tears wont stop flowing.

"What? What do you want?" she pleads with the baby. As if the infant can understand her, stxeli pats her tummy. Neytiri tilts her head, was the baby hungry? It has been a while since morning.

Tring to remember what mo'at feeds the baby, she grabs the basket again, and quickly searches for some fruit. But stxeli was screaming near her sensitive ears, her patience growing a bit thin.

What felt like forever, netyiri thankfully found some ripe yovo fruit, carefully cutting it small pieces, she shoves it in stxeli's mouth, making her to stop screaming.

With a huge sigh of relief, little neytiri relaxes in silence. But her ears twitch to the sound of stxeli munching away. Slowly her gaze turns to the baby. The little one's cheeks red and eyes a bit puffy, but stxeli wasnt so bad...

The young girl observes the human baby, taking in everyting. But her amber eyes made contact with the eyes of the infant. There was nothing but silence between them. Stxeli kept eating the soft fruit as her eyes never leaving neytiri's.

"Maybe you are not so ugly after all...." neytiri mutters.

Mo'at returns home at the same time with her mate. Both tired from their long day of doing their tasks. A nice dinner will regain their strength, and a nice cleanse by the river waters.

"Where is my sweet children?" mo'at asks as she seeks around her home. At the far corner, she finds neytiri holding stxeli. She gasped inwardly. It was the first time she has seen young neytiri holding her new sister like that. A smile crept up to her lips, enjoying the sight in front of her.

Eytukan appeared behind her, seeing the same thing. "It seems she is taking the big sister role well" he comments. Mo'at nods in agreement. Both get close to the girls, bending down. "How was your day with your sister ma'ite?" eytukan asks neytiri.

She shrugs but smiles, "it was....a very noisy day, but it is alright ma'sempu" she replies. Mo'at reaches for stxeli but neytiri backs away. This slightly confused mo'at.

"Are you not tired from holding her?" mo'at asks. Neytiri shakes her head, "no, I like holding her, and she likes it too. Isnt that right my sister?". Stxeli giggles as if to agree.

Eytukan turns to his mate, and widens a grin. Was mo'at...pouting?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand that is all for this one! Hope you all liked it! Should the next chapter be eytukan focused? Lemme know what you guys think! until next time! see ya!

Taglist: @thehoneymushroomhealer , @kat-the-kit , @spookymomfriendtm . @moonchildxoxx , @galactict3a , @alastorhazbin

[blackjackkent]

Another answer for one of @astreamofstars 's prompts from this ask for this ask meme: Kiss Roulette.

"33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking - Lae'zel/character of your choice"

Some context-less Shadowzel from Act 3 after the House of Grief, bc I haven't fully figured out how to include them in Rakha's playthrough yet. XD This is my first attempt at writing this pairing; hopefully it scans well! :D

-----

“Do you wish me to call you Jenevelle?”

Shadowheart peers out from her tent at Lae’zel sitting by the fire. “Why would you ask that?” she snaps irritably.

It’s not a fair response, and she knows it as soon as the words are out of her mouth. To her credit, Lae’zel doesn’t flinch from the moment’s sharpness, but answers in kind. “A thing true across all planes, I find, istik, is that most prefer to be called by their names.”

“It’s not my name. My name is Shadowheart.”

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.” Lae’zel looks over her shoulder to meet Shadowheart’s eyes. A slight pause. “I am not your enemy… Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart lets out a heavy breath and her head ducks. “No,” she says. “No, you aren’t.”

She should know better, really. They certainly began as enemies, but so much has changed. They have suffered so much together. They have stood side by side, watching their religions burn to cinders in front of them, and found each other amidst the ashes.

It was meaningless sex at first, half-desire and half-anger, driven by a need for some kind of nameless forgetful oblivion where they could forget that their worlds had fallen apart. Gradually, though, it has become more than that. She has been allowed to see gentleness in the gith, and Lae’zel has been allowed to see her vulnerability in turn - and both things have been hard-won knowledge indeed, secrets held between the two of them, shown to no one else. 

Zhak vo'n'ash duj, Lae’zel called her once in a moment of passion. She hasn’t explained what it means, but Shadowheart can guess the implications.

And here she is, lashing out yet again anyway, as if it were still their first few days on the road, when preemptive strikes felt like the only way to survive. Gods, she’s so scared. Gods… it hurts.

“I’m… sorry,” she mutters, hunching her shoulders - as if still in expectation of mocking after all these months. “That wasn’t fair.”

“Chk. You owe no apologies,” Lae’zel says - still curt but quieter. “I am no yank to be felled with a harsh word. And it is not the first I have had from you, nor will it be the last.” She turns back to the fire and prods carefully at the meat roasting there, turning it carefully. “Nor would I wish otherwise.”

Shadowheart finds herself mesmerized by watching the other woman's fingers, surprisingly dexterous in counterpoint to her battering-ram combat style. “Do you know your parents?” she asks abruptly. “Did you leave family behind, in Kliir?” 

“The yanki are raised together in creche.” With quick, efficient motions, Lae'zel pulls the meat from the fire and lays it out on a platter nearby. “A cadre of nestmates is our first and only family.” She frowns. “Still, I am not blind to what you have lost.”

Shadowheart nods silently. Lae'zel's experiences are so alien at times that it is hard to imagine the places where they overlap. But they are both alone in a world full of shadowy uncertainty. 

“You're all I have left, you know.” The words emerge in a sudden rush; she looks down at her hands, ashamed without knowing why. 

And then Lae'zel's hands close over hers, calloused and rough from a life of swordwork, but gentle in their touch on her skin. 

“I am not blind to that either,” she says, her voice low. “You will not be alone while I am here.” She considers for a moment before going on, “In creche we are taught ra'quith vlaak - the frail perish. To cover for another's weakness is to open your own flank.” Her eyes lift to meet Shadowheart's, intent and serious and sad. “Perhaps once I found wisdom in this, but no more. You shall find me guarding the scarred places in you, and you shall guard mine.”

Slowly, with scrupulous care, she lifts Shadowheart's hand and presses her lips over the heavy black scar, the last mark of Shar's torments, that lingers on her skin.

Blood rushes to Shadowheart's face. She feels acutely conscious of the fact that Lae'zel has never before showed her any gesture of warmth in view of the rest of the camp. And she can see the flicker of anxiety that goes through the gith's cat's-pupil eyes with the action. 

But Lae'zel has been afraid a long time. She has never let it drive her actions - never before and not now. 

And Shadowheart feels her own courage rise in answer to it. “Yes,” she agrees softly. “As long as you'll let me.”

“Chk,” Lae'zel mutters. “You speak as if you think such promises come with endings.”

Shadowheart doesn't answer for a long while. “I have suffered many broken ones,” she finally says softly. “But not from you.”

Lae'zel's eyes brighten, and she kisses Shadowheart again, this time cupping a palm to her cheek. Like all of their kisses, it is fierce and rough, commanding, unrelenting, but it carries certainty in it that Shadowheart desperately needs. “Nor shall you,” she murmurs. “Zhak vo'n'ash duj.”

[twistedkans]

j’en ai rêvé (part one)

→ Yandere! Neuvillette x Reader in which he receives a mysterious letter...

Warnings: Fontaine Spoilers? Not really. Dragon! Neuvillette, Reader isn’t human. Also writing this before the rest of the AQ is completed. (As of 4.0) Characters: Neuvillette, Sedene, + mysterious admirer... Word Count: 620 (A/N: I haven’t written something in a long time and I am quite sick but I hope this will suffice! The title is inspired off of the French rendition of ‘Once Upon A Dream’! :) Also, this is relatively slow-burn for this first part, but it will get more yandere later on. I promise! (Well, hopefully.) -🪞) Comment below if you would like to be added to the taglist.

The envelope being creased in the places that the Melusine had usually handled wasn't a surprise in the slightest to the Chief Justice, but how the paper was presented. It appeared to be tinted a sky blue with tasteful gold and white accents, a wax seal of a Romatime flower symbol pressed onto the back. When he opened the envelope, a dewy and aromatic perfume graced his sharp nostrils, surprising him. 

It certainly wasn’t quite like any of the numerous letters of complaint and formal documents that sat neatly on his desk. It wasn’t like he hadn’t received such things before, but most of the time they were never forwarded to him. Most of the time, they contained feelings of confession or bribery within. And most of the time, his attendants weeded them out and threw them in the waste bin. 

Why had this one been forwarded to him?

Curiosity festered in his mind, and he drew out the letter with a steady hand. This one hadn’t been typed up on one of the latest and most popular inventions in Fontaine, rather handwritten in a neat and calligraphic penmanship.

Greetings, Monsieur Neuvillette!

It is such a pleasure to know that this letter has graced your prestigious eyes, as I have made sure that no other being has touched this parchment other than you and I. 

I am writing to you in great concern, as I have noticed that the rain storms have been very frequent and quite intense. While I usually do not mind the water, the amount and times it has been occurring is a little worrying. Have you been doing alright? Probably not. 

I wish I could give you more care directly, but all I can say is that you are one of the strongest people I know, and I know it must be hard to keep being that way with how demanding your job is, even if you do not show your vulnerability outright. I know you feel that something is amiss. 

Dry your tears, hydro dragon. Do not worry about yourself any longer. 

I am here for you, and will watch over you as best as I can.

Warm regards, 

Romatime.

(P.S. No need to write back! Fret not, I shall meet you soon.)

Neuvillette felt chills go down his spine, blankly staring at the contents of the letter. How did they know of his identity? How did they know of his feelings so well? He thought he had done a good job at hiding it, the only people knowing of this being Focalors and a select few of the Melusine that have heard his weeping from behind closed doors. Their ears were always sensitive to noise, no matter how muffled it may be.

He stood up from his cushioned seat, robe tassels touching the floor as he made his way to the door, and called for Sedene. She rushed over as quickly as she could, leaving her station, and approached his side.

“Yes, Monsieur Neuvillette? Whatever you need, I may help.”

“Thank you, Sedene.” He started, bringing out the letter. “Did you perhaps leave this on my desk this morning?” 

Sedene thought it over, squinting at it and curiously touching her chin in thought. “No sir. I checked all of your documents and had your office cleaned this morning. I haven’t seen that before. I’m not sure who the sender is.”

“How intriguing. Whoever sent it didn’t write their name, only an alias. Could you possibly trace who sent this to me? I would like to talk to them.”

“Of course.” She bowed, and soon left his vicinity to pass the message on.

Whoever it was, they needed to be dealt with, and fast.

[scyllas-revenge]

Hope you're doing OK Scylla :D Was thinking about BLCI today (as you do) and no pressure on the next chapter at all but do you have any snippets to share? No worries if not! Also I think I saw that you love Persuasion? *ignores existence of the 2022 version!!!* Thought I'd share that there is a recent Eomer/OFC fic being adapted from Persuasion and put it on your radar if you hadn't seen it...its off to a great start :D

pHORSEuasion: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55817617/chapters/147845338

XOXO

Thanks for the ask! And omg yes Persuasion is THE yearning book. The Netflix version took ten years off my life. Luckily we have the 90s one and the 2007 one to enjoy instead.

Given my love of Persuasion, and Eomer, and puns, I definitely have that fic on my radar! I'm hoping I'll have time to start it in the next week or two!

As far as BLCI goes, I've been making progress! Now I just have to work out whether what I thought was going to be one chapter should be divided into two or three (it's really gotten away from me lol).

But you asked for snippets! And I shall deliver! Snippets abound!!

Or at least, one big snippet abounds!

Probably way too long to be a snippet, but I'm excited to post the damn thing. Hopefully it'll be another two weeks or so before Ch. 34 is done!

Ch. 34 snippet <3

“I should call you Lord Boromir, shouldn’t I?”

He paused, looking startled at the thought. “No. I would not wish that.”

“But I should, shouldn’t I? Everyone else does—hell, the guards outside the gate called you Steward-Prince—”

“You have long been aware of my station and my family, that I command Gondor’s armies and am the Steward’s heir besides.”

“Yes, but it’s different being here, seeing you like this,” I protested. “I probably should’ve been addressing you differently this whole time, my lord—”

Anger flashed across his face. “Do not address me so! Valar, such words sit ill on your lips.”

His eyes had fallen intently to my lips as he spoke, and I dropped my gaze to my boots, flustered. “It’s not like I want to be so formal either, but what will your people think?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure what they’d think, exactly, but it couldn’t be good. “What will your father think?”

Boromir pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed an impatient sigh. “Yes, you speak truly. It would be—selfish of me, to demand such impropriety of you.”

“I don’t need to call you Lord when we’re alone. Just—just in public.”

He smiled joylessly and tilted his head up to the sky. “A more diplomatic concession I cannot not hope to make, it seems.”

“And how should I address your father? Does a steward warrant a higher title than lord?”

“No, for the line of stewards is not royalty. Lord or Lord Steward shall suffice, though I must warn you that such formalities will hardly be optional with my father.”

That, at least, was obvious, but I supposed after my disastrous interactions with Theoden, he’d felt the need to remind me.

“I should also warn you—” He hesitated. “Speak naught but the truth to my father.”

“I was hardly planning on lying to him,” I protested, more than a little offended now.

Boromir raised his hands placatingly. “Of course not. I only wished to caution you, for he will know at once if you do otherwise. He has a—an affinity for such things.”

“An affinity for what, reading minds?” I was joking, but Boromir only nodded gravely. “You can’t be serious,” I exclaimed.

“Both my father and brother share a talent for gleaning men’s thoughts. It can be an…overwhelming experience, my soldiers have told me.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

[sephirothsplaything]

ｉｎｔｅｒｌｕｄｅ

a/n: Just some pre-story lore building for act 2. Hopefully, this might answer some questions..or not idk.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒. 𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑. 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑.

he predates that of Old Valyria, possibly. he revels in chaos, and who better to bring about amusement than the Targaryens?

VISENYA TARGARYEN was the first. Asture in her ways-both witch and warrior. She bathed in fire and blood.' 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓' Her sacrifice to him was her own womb.

MAEGOR TARGARYEN '𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖊𝖑' readily accepted him. The depravity and bloodlust were much and more satisfactory. The execution of his wife, Tyanna of the tower, a known witch was his chosen sacrifice.

It did not suffice. Maegor's death came as a mystery in 48 AC,seated on the iron throne--fashioned as an alter in response to his own arrogance.

𝑨𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑨 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑹𝒀𝑬𝑵 was his most devastating conquest,a shy and timid girl with a particular fear of dragons.

he lured her in, instilling treachery and spite inside the young girl. On Dragonstone, Aerea was a terror, abusive and flippant. He promised her power and godhood, delivering Balerion as her mount to fly.

The naive girl believed him, that was her doom. Balerion was led to the ruins of Old Valyeria.

Aerea saw the high power's true form. She could not comprehend it.

Her last words were uttered unto the ears of Grand Maester Benifer.

"I never-"

what a waste of a girl...

117 𝑨𝑪 -𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑺 𝑨 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑼𝑰𝑻, 𝑨 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 𝑨𝑩𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑼𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑷𝑼𝑹𝑬 𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯.

RHAELLA TARGARYEN. He is quite fond of her misery. She cannot foresee the suffering that is her destined path. Poor child. A girl that had been waiting for...anything.

He will give her everything. 

Rhaella '̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴s̴t̴r̴a̴n̴g̴e̴ ̴o̴n̴e̴'̴  'the rider of death' '𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑'

The gift he bestows upon the girl is divine violence—creation through her own destruction.

Never again will she be meek. Both victim and executioner. Rhaella Targaryen will be brutal and inevitable- Mind fractured by power.

Her sacrifice has yet to come.

ʙʏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ.

Rhaella Targaryen shall bring forth the Century of blood.

All must choose. But this girl had choice snatched from her by something beyond understanding.

THEDANCEOFDRAGONS.

[riddle-me-ri]

I love how you write Jervis! How do you think Arkhamverse Jervis would react to coming home to find his s/o dressed as Alice? NSFW please! It can be a fic, drabble, or hcs, entirely up to you. Hope you’re well!

A/N: Aww, thank you so much! That means a lot! Ohohoho anon he'd absolutely love that…I decided to go with a fic, because my mind went bbrrrr and just did it’s own thing. This is definitely the most filthiest thing I’ve ever written..so uhh you’re welcome and sorry? I also decided to also include a request for arkhamverse Jervis with the smut prompt; "Does it feel good when I touch you like this?" because…it seemed to fit for the scenario at play here at least to me hehe hope you don't mind!

Trigger Warning: explicit sexual content; unprotected sexual intercourse (reader has gn pronouns but fem parts like breasts and vagina), food play, table sex, dress up (reader is dressed as Alice, you are Alice, Jervis calls you Alice, if that bothers you I recommend you don’t read), roleplaying? And mention or allusions to a breeding kink?

Word Count: 2.2 k (it’s worth it..maybe I hope lol)

Arkhamverse Mad Hatter x Reader - A Mad Tea Party

"Darling? My dear, where are you? Are you here?" 

"I'm in here!" You softly called out, in a slightly higher pitched voice.

You had to get into character after all. 

Jervis’ eyebrows shot up, surprised. He wasn’t prepared for that shift in your voice. You definitely had his curiosity now. He continued to follow your voice like a white rabbit. 

When he finally saw you, he was frozen in place just before the threshold of the dining room. 

“Oh…Oh my…” 

Jervis’ eyes raked up and down your body. His eyes sparkled in delight as he slowly began regaining feeling in his legs and feet to move closer to you. 

You were adorned in a blue dress that ended just above the knees with puffy sleeves that ended at your elbows and revealed your shoulders. You also wore sleek white leggings and a pair of black Mary Janes. You topped off the look with a cute little black headband with a bow planted in the middle of the headband. 

“Oh, Mr. Hatter! You arrived just in time!” You walked up to him with a bright sweet smile. “The tea party is just about to start!” 

Your nerves were vibrating with excitement. You had spent so much time preparing this very moment. From the pastries, to the tea, to the table setting, and not to mention the Alice get-up. 

Now all your hard work is finally going to pay off. 

You lead him to an empty chair before sitting in your own chair across from him. It was a simple table with a light pink tablecloth. 

Jervis is still trying to catch his brain up to what is occuring. His eyes are still glistening in absolute giddiness. Oh, he always knew you were the perfect Alice. He always knew it and you are just confirming it for him. 

Just when he thinks he could not love and desire you more than he already did. 

Jervis looked down and noticed you cutting up a small cake and putting them on a glass plate. You handed him his plate and he gladly took it, but not without lingering his hand over yours for a moment. 

It wasn’t until that moment when Jervis realized…other than two plates, two teacups, a teapot and a few saucers…there wasn’t any cutlery aside from your knife. Even if it was just a table to two…how could you make do with no silverware. 

“Oh dear…” You pretended to pout, complete with a poked out bottom lip and your hands on your hips. “How rude…it’d seem our knives, spoons, and forks have been swiped. Now, why would anyone or…maybe anything do such a thing?” 

Jervis chuckled. “It does seem something is amiss, but not to worry, my dear. We shall find an alternative to enjoy this dish.” 

“Oh, how so, Mr. Hatter?” 

"Now bear with me, my dear Alice…this is a grave example of the most..uncouth table manners, but hopefully this way will suffice." 

Jervis took off his fingerless gloves and cupped the pastry into his hand. 

You were just letting things happen naturally, hoping that things would end where you hoped they'd go. You knew your role and your goal…now it's just a matter of getting there by playing along with Jervis. 

The last thing you expected was for him to hand feed you. You couldn't deny the way your heart skipped a beat at the notion. To have his warm calloused hand so close to your face and intimately adored by your mouth…

You made quick work of the tiny slice. Not too quick to be scolded for eating like a pig but enough to get to your main destination. 

You began licking up what frosting and crumbs were nestled in between the lines of his palm. The soft groans that left under Jervis' breath made your knees curl in on themselves as you scooted further off your chair. 

Once the palm of his hand was clean, you moved your attention to his fingers. There was practically little to no more cake left, but you couldn’t resist. You licked and swirled your tongue around his index and middle finger before opening your lips to allow them into your mouth. 

Jervis’ eyes widened, before they lowered as he hummed, amusingly. Jervis curled his fingers, slightly pushed them in every time you suckled on the digits. You did this with the rest of his fingers as well. 

Suddenly, you released his fingers with an audible pop between your lips. 

“Oh my,” you giggled. “That was um…quite something.” 

You let his hand go, trying not to get too disappointed in the loss of contact. 

“I suppose it’s only fair I come closer…” You offered as you hed the dessert delicately between your hands like you were cupping the last bit of water. 

You walked daintly around the round table like you were balancing on a tightrope. You stood in front of him, with your back against the table.

Jervis stood up from his seat, his one hand holding your hands and the cake in place. While the other he used to smudge some icing on his fingers. 

The icing was much cooler on your flesh than you had expected, given the warm temperature of the room and the heat from Jervis’ skin causing it to slightly melt on his fingers. Jervis painted the top of your chest with the icing before he licked it off. Casually, he nibbled your skin here and there and suckled where parts of the icing refused to be devoured. 

Your breathing became labored and heavy, you whined in a high pitch tone whenever he pricked your skin with his teeth unknowingly. It was getting more and more difficult to keep up the role of an innocent curious person when all you really wanted was to absolutely ravish this man. 

There wasn’t much left of the cake, mostly crumbs on the plate and along your upper body. Your chest was sticky with frosting and Jervis’ saliva.

You were still rendered stunned and breathless. Your mind was scrambling to find the appropriate dialogue to continue this scenario you’re playing out. 

“M-Mr. Hatter, don’t forget we also have tea…” You sighed as you looked over to your side at the teapot and teacup. 

However, before you could maneuver your way to get the tea. A hand cupped your chin and stopped you from turning around. Jervis’ thumb caressed your chin from side to side.

“Oh, no, no, no, my dear Alice, here allow me.” He offered.  

Jervis leaned into you further, your chests met as he poured the cup of tea over your shoulder. When the tea was poured, he slowly backed away from you, but only so he could bring the cup up to his lips. 

How you yearned to be a porcelain teacup in that very moment. 

Jervis sipped the tea but did not drink it yet. You didn’t notice this until his thumb gently parted your lips before colliding his lips with yours. 

A warm liquid soon flooded your mouth. When you gasp in surprise, some tea cascaded down your chin and neck. You made sure to drink whatever tea stayed in your mouth, casually sucking on Jervis’ tongue too which tasted sweet with cake but slightly bitter with tea. 

Jervis was quick to also lick and suckle on the tea that you missed much like the cake before. 

Your legs were getting wobbly and you felt light headed. You braced yourself on Jervis’ shoulders as you decided to sit down on the table. 

“A-Apologies,” you panted. “I-I was feeling lightheaded.” 

Jervis chuckled deeply. One hand on your cheek and the other was slowly leaving feather-light touches along your leg. The hand on your leg, slowly pushing your skirt up on the table, revealing more of your legs and…the lack of underwear you wore. 

Jervis gasped softly. “Oh…naughty, naughty, Alice. Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” 

“Y-Yes…” You sighed into his ear. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and you linked your ankles around his back as you crashed your lips against his once more. Jervis made quick work to remove his trousers and underwear before his hands went back around your waist to hold you. 

Until one hand reaches for another small pastry behind you. 

You felt that familiar cool sticky feeling along the inside of your thighs. You gasped softly at the temperature drop and slick texture of the icing. The fingers coated in frosting soon met your slightly damp lips. Jervis swirled his finger between your folds, gathering your slick as well before he thrusted his finger inside of you. 

You choked on your words. Your brain short circuiting between his name and his alias. All you knew was that you wanted to whine out for more. 

He quickened his pace which caused you to become even more of a breathless mess. Your arms got weak like your legs and you fell flat on your back on top of the table. 

Finally, feeling that sweet friction you had been craving since the start. Until he abruptly, pulled his fingers out and stuck them in his mouth. Jervis sucked and licked his fingers diligently, making sure they were clean. 

Jervis chuckled softly, in pure glee. “You, my sweet, sweet Alice are sweeter than any pastry. Oh yes, better than any dessert or the perfect cup of tea!”

It was his turn for his breathing to be labored as he gently stroke his cock. He aimed his head at your entrance. 

“P-Please…” you weakly moaned out. “Oh, please…Mr. Hatter.”

Your back slightly bent upward at the swift pentration but the pressure of finally being filled made you see stars in the back of your vision. 

The room became a cacophony of moans, groans, and the clanking and clinking of plates, cups, and pots. The table even groaned at the weight of your bodies and Jervis’ fast thrusts. 

Jervis’ hands were steady kneading your chest through the fabric of the dress while you two remained in a heavy passionate exchange of kisses and tongues. Your legs grew weak again, slight tingling sensations from holding them up for so long. Jervis was quick to grip your thighs and keep them secured around him, not daring to have this delicious proximity broken. 

The skin along your neck, shoulder, and collar bone were being tickled by Jervis’ fanning pants. His thrusts were getting deeper, but slower almost as if he was hesitating both of your peaks. 

“Please…” He gulped some air, before he whispered in your ear. “Please, please, will you…won’t you…let me finish inside you? Please?” 

Jervis begging like that shouldn’t have made your heart skip a beat like that. He’s only ever asked once before, and you were just unsure of the outcome. However now in this moment, it was super hard to say no. Not to mention, you wanted to know what it would be like. 

“Yes…yes, you can. Just please…don’t stop.” You finally answered. 

If it were any other scenario, you’d find the way Jervis’ face lit up and his eyes gleamed to be adorable. Although, in this moment, it made him look unhinged. 

He finally went the speed you needed, the fast and thick friction as he entered every time, more deeper than the last it seemed. More glassware was likely being shattered on the floor, but that could be worried about at another time. 

Your muscles from your chest, to your stomach, to the tip of your fingers and toes began tightening. Each muscle being pulled by your nerves waiting to be sparked with pleasure. 

Your facade was long gone as you began choking between moans and gasps of his name. Jervis didn’t seem to mind though, if his heated kisses sparked by tiny bites and his quick thrusts were any indicator. 

Finally, the knot in your gut came unraveled. Your nerves finally lit in electrifying satisfying tingles all over your body. Your legs convulsed at the feeling, causing your grip around Jervis’ waist to tighten slightly. 

As your walls chocked Jervis’ cock as you orgasmed. Jervis was ready to reach his end as well, knowing that you were fully satisfied first. His head was still reeling you would let him cum in you. He never thought it would happen, all he wanted was to be closer to you than before. To be in you, be a part of you, you to have a part of him. 

Jervis stilled his motions as he let out a pathetic, tired groan. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of him filling you up. 

He leaned down and began planting soft kisses all along your temple and face. Reluctantly, he slowly pulled out causing you both to groan from the loss contact. You cried out lightly when you felt his fingers promptly push themselves back in and stay in. 

“I had to act in haste. We wouldn’t want any of this to go to waste.” 

You nodded as you laid your head back. You did all that you could to catch your breath and control your heartbeat. 

“I suppose we made quite the mess…” You muttered, as you noticed the lack of supplies on the table. 

Jervis snickered. “Nothing to worry about, my dear! It’ll all be ready next time you’re here!”

“The next time?” You inquired, genuinely, not in character. 

“Why of course! After all, it’s always tea time here, especially with you, Alice, my dear.”

[thana-topsy]

Hi Topsy! A Neloth prompt for you—at your leisure, to play around with as you will. [Officious looking letter, penned on creamy parchment] "To: Master Neloth of House Telvanni. I hope this letter finds you in good health. I have been following your research with unwavering interest for a number of years, so it is with great pleasure that I would like to invite you to give the keynote address for this year's "Vanus Galerion" Invited Speaker Series at the Arcane University. The year's theme is "The Theory and Methods of Summoning." I have no doubt that your insights on the subject would be of great interest to both our students and our faculty, and it is my great hope that you will consider this invitation favorably. As always with a keynote address, we would be pleased to offer an honorarium, as well as cover all travel and lodging expenses. I patiently await your response. Respectfully, ~Hannibal Traven"

[Included along with Master Neloth's letter of acceptance is a brief excerpt of his proposed lecture]:

To begin, Theory and Method (of any particular subject) I consider, at times, to be dialectically opposed. The theory of summoning in many cases does not hold even a single drop of water in comparison to the actual torrent of the practice itself. I have no doubt that you’ll find an inexhaustible stream of scholars willing to drone on about theory until they’ve lectured themselves hoarse, so I shall skip forward into the methodology to save us all time and precious mental capacity.

First and foremost, a summoner is nothing without a strong, well-honed force of Will. Any budding mage could feasibly rip a gash into Oblivion and fish out a passing scamp, but to control such a thing requires the ability to assert your Will over another’s mind. The more powerful the intelligence of said creature, the more difficult it becomes to maintain control. Low-level summoning forms, usually of the more animalistic variety—scamp, imps, clannfear, and the like—are often considered ‘beginner’ summonings. Theirs is a lower-level, more primal intelligence based on survival instinct, and one that is easily overpowered when one knows how and where to apply the correct amount of pressure.

The practice of strengthening one’s Will begins with a simple act that has set many an apprentice groaning and bemoaning my cruelty when I require it as part of their daily routine: meditation. The ability to filter one’s thoughts with needle-thin precision is nothing short of mandatory. If you cannot manage to sit still for five minutes without planning your next meal or scratching your nose, what makes you think you’ll be able to control a sentient creature with any amount of success? 

Once you have strengthened your Will, then it is simply a matter of practice. Novice summoners will find great success working with atronachs and lesser churls, as these are creatures who are predisposed to servility. However, it is important not to get too far ahead of one’s own abilities in the process. To reference one of the preeminent scholars on the matter, the current Master of Conjuration at the College of Winterhold, Falion: to wrangle with a bound summons is not unlike attempting to wrangle a very large fish on the end of a line. If you have not exercised the proper muscles or crafted a tenacious tether, you may find yourself with a snapped line and a very angry fish that will attempt to kill you.   

Now, given the namesake of your little convention, I can only assume that to delve further into the subject might very well see me in shackles in one of your fine correctional institutions. So, for the sake of adhering to the legal limitations of your country, I will state that, to attempt to bring anything more powerful than a Kynval onto our plane is unwise and unsanctioned. Hopefully that will suffice.  

We will take a brief recess, and, upon return, will discuss the Direnni method of binding, the hierarchy of summoned entities, and lastly, I will share the most common sigil forms for single entity binding, as well as second-order binding.