#this got away from me (oops)

[iomadachd]

@divinehr asked: because this place isn’t real, darling, why would you be? / dewdrop

somewhere between reality and fantasy (not accepting)

Dewdrop is shuddering, body jerking as the fever racks his slight form. The fire rages through him, still burning away whatever wasn't consumed in the ritual.

Hands pressed to the mirror, it warps and flexes from the heat of his body, and her words feel like both a balm and condemnation in their gentleness. He can barely stand, but his stubbornness is pushing him to try, to get himself back to being useful. He has to be useful.

"If... If it's not real, if I'm not real, then how the fuck could you be?" he asks, hissing into the quiet.

Like the breaking of the surface of a pond, the mirror gives way beneath his hands, and he falls through it, molten glass and silver against his skin. It doesn't hurt, because he's not real.

He opens his eyes, and he is numb. It is dark and quiet, and he can't feel anything for once.

It felt too real, but it wasn't. He's still lying in the same bed he fell asleep in, but there's no warmth, nothing to ground him. He exists in a void between water and fire, heaven and hell, body and spirit.

[emry-stars-art]

Whalemack!

He’s a gray/grey whale, very nice and VERY big (though about half the size of a blue whale). He’s been mostly solitary for a while, sometimes joining other whales on their migrations, but then he starts collecting little mer children that make travel hard. I’ll probably add some scars from boats/etc to this design. And we need to figure out if mers have tattoos 🧐

[blinkpen]

"Hm? Are you coming or what?"

[catboymoments]

Before Hyacinth learns about being a Grimwalker does he think that they were adopted? Like how Mittens was but at a younger age? Or do they think they’re Hunter and Willow’s biological child? Or something else? And if they were told to be adopted did they wonder about their origins, whether in an analytical curious way or a “I wonder if my bio parents loved me” way? Sorry a lot of questions haha

I think they would do what any good parent would and give him the age appropriate truth- since he’s pretty observant he’d probably ask like… “why don’t I look like mama at all? Bronnie looks like both her mom and her renny, but I just kinda look like dad…” (Mittens wouldn’t have been in the picture yet if Hyacinth is pretty young here.)

n Willow and Hunter would be like. Nervous glance. Ok let’s do this. We prepared for this a little.

Cont. Under the cut to save space lol

“Well, you know how most witches and demons look a little like their parents, right? Like how Bronnie has green hair like Mx Raine, or how your mama looks a little like both grandpa and pop?”

“mhm!”

“Well, that’s because- um. Usually-“

“Most witchlings and demon kits are made by different… parts of their parents! Like how a seed can grow into a tree or a Biting Nettle after it’s pollinated, yeah?“

“Right! like- remember how when Aunt Luz had Azura in her tummy because she still had to grow?”

“Uh huh…”

“It’s sort of like that. But… you didn’t grow in my tummy. And your dad-“

“I uh- my body is… different.”

“Like mine?”

“Yes!! Exactly! That’s because you and I share a lot of things, bud. Like how I had eyes like yours in that picture, the one from before Flapjack helped me? A-And we have the same big ears and that one lock of hair that never stays straight no matter how we style it?” (He softly flicks Hyacinth’s hair noodle with a smile, and Hyacinth giggles, so unlike the past.)

“You and I are related by our biology, what makes our bodies up as… witches. You’re not related that way to your mom, but you are still, absolutely, without a doubt her child, and she is still your mama. The love is there and she’s known you since the day you were born, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love your mom, and we both love you, which makes us family.”

“Exactly. You’re our baby- my baby, even if I didn’t help to bring you here. Okay?”

“Oh… okay! So it’s like how Uncle Gus is my uncle but you guys and him don’t have the same dads?”

“…”

“Y-yeah that’s a much simpler way to put it!”

[whitehairandblood]

Whumpee stands in the kitchen, barefoot. Their long hair splays over their shoulders and down their back, falling into their face. They don't bother to tie it up.

It's longer than they're used to. They never let it grow out this much before Whumper captured them. It's unruly, hard to take care of and maintain, and way too much trouble than it's worth. Whumper has expressed their dislike for it several times already, but they haven't made an attempt at cutting it yet. It seems they're allowing at least this small piece of Whumpee to remain untouched.

It's not like Whumpee would even let them cut it. There's not a lot they're willing to fight over anymore, but as ridiculous as it makes them feel, Whumpee knows their hair remains one of those things. The last piece of themself that remains theirs alone.

They busy themself with preparing breakfast- or, rather, dinner. Whumper's nocturnal lifestyle forces Whumpee to stay awake during the night and sleep in the day just as Whumper does, every aspect of their new life catered to their captor. Whumpee can't remember the last time they'd seen the sun, other than those few precious times Whumper let them watch the sunrise before bed- or the sunset, if Whumpee managed to get up early enough.

This is one of those rare occasions. Whumper was still sound asleep when Whumpee left the room, heading straight for the kitchen. Whumper allowed them free reign of their stupid big house, apparently entirely confident that Whumpee couldn't even find their way out, let alone escape.

Making food remains another one of those things Whumpee has yet to lose control over. The thought of Whumper, almighty and powerful, being incapable of making even a grilled cheese sandwich to keep Whumpee alive never ceases to amuse them. It makes him feel a little bit more human, even if Whumpee knows otherwise.

The sunlight that previously illuminated the kitchen grows weaker by the minute. Whumpee shudders when the air grows colder, suddenly regretting not putting on socks before they left the bedroom.

Another shiver runs up their spine at the thought of that wretched room. Bedtime always comes with a sort of silent dread, one that eats Whumpee up from the inside as the days go on. Whumper always draws the blackout curtains before the Sun could even begin to rise, and Whumpee has begun to dread each and every morning. How ironic, to hate the very thing they yearn for.

Their thoughts come to a screeching halt, their hands stilling when they feel a presence behind them. Their breathing stutters for a moment before they force it to go back to normal. They keep their head lowered, allowing the long curtain of hair to shield their face from Whumper's view.

Whumper's cold hand settles on their shoulder, slowly moving up the side of their neck. Their fingers trace over the raised web of scar tissue, pausing to push gently on the twin puncture marks at the very center. Whumpee supresses a wince.

"How many times do I have to tell you," Whumper murmurs, leaning close to Whumpee's ear, "to keep your hair out of my way?"

Whumpee's hands grip the counter's edge, shoulders raising.

"I hate it when you do that."

Whumper chuckles. Their hand moves further up, fingers running through the hair at the nape of Whumpee's neck.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up behind me. You know I hate it."

"And I hate it when you ignore my questions."

They're forced to press their hips into the edge of the counter as Whumper crowds close. Whumpee flinches when a hand appears in the corner of their eye, but then it moves fully into view, and Whumpee sucks in a breath.

Whumper's offer of the hairtie feels entirely too casual. Too innocent.

"Tie it up."

Whumpee hesitates.

"I-I'm.. Whumper, I'm making breakfast. Just give me a minute. I haven't eaten anything today."

Whumper's hand on the back of their neck tightens, and this time, Whumpee can't hold back the wince it elicits.

"Neither have I. Tie it up."

Whumpee dips their head. Their grip on the counter's edge turns white-knuckled.

"Please.." they whisper, half hoping Whumper wouldn't hear. "Just give me a damn minute."

Whumper's breath ghosts against their neck as they laugh.

"My, my. Got up on the wrong side of the bed, did you?"

Whumper's hand buries itself into the hair at the nape of Whumpee's neck, tugging hard to wrench their head back. Whumpee hisses, grabbing around blindly until their hand finds Whumper's wrist. They can see Whumper's grin from the corner of their eye.

"You don't get to make requests, Hunter." Whumper hisses into their ear, "Not anymore. Not when you pointed that gun at me, and especially not now. Seems like you need a reminder of where, exactly, you belong."

Whumpee grits their teeth, squeezing their eyes shut against the tears that threaten to fall. Their scalp feels like it's on fire, every nerve screaming at them to relieve the pressure before Whumper could rip their hair clean out. Their hands scrabble at Whumper's own.

"Fuck! Whumper, don't! Not yet, please not yet, I'm sorry, please just wait- ARGH!"

Sharp teeth slice into Whumpee's neck without warning. Their hands claw at Whumper's desperately, tears sliding down their face as the pain blossoms in their neck into something unbearable. Their breathing grows frantic. Whumper's lips are cold against their skin, and Whumpee tries their best to ignore the sickening feeling of their blood leaving their body.

Whumpee's hands start to tremble. One of them falls down to grip the counter again when a wave of dizziness washes over them. Their voice comes out breathier than they would have liked.

"Whumper, please. Th-that's enough.."

Whumper pulls away for only a moment, murmuring into Whumpee's skin to "Stay quiet" before biting down again, rougher this time. Whumpee strangles a whine in their throat.

They lose track of time after that. They come to when Whumper's teeth suddenly dislodge from their neck, Whumpee nearly falling over when Whumper's grasp on their hair disappears. They raise a shaking hand to their neck to try and stop the bloodflow, fighting the creeping nausea that makes their world spin.

Something small and light lands on the counter next to their hand. Whumpee's eyes drift slowly over to the hairtie, a scowl appearing on their face.

Whumper's hand lands on top of their head, fingers running through the strands. Whumpee shivers at the sensation.

"Pull something like this again and I might just cut it all off for you."

Whumpee shuts their eyes, slumping onto the countertop. They don't fight Whumper's touch as their eyes begin to slip closed.

"... I hate you."

[foolishly-foolish-foolishness]

fellas is it gay to give this boy you basically rescued your own birthname, that you had to abandon when you became a spy?

fellas is it gay to then take his original name as your new name in exchange?

fellas is it gay to wish him a happy birthday omfg just had a realization and give him a hat (with fucking rainbow metal lining i might add) just so he is one step closer to becoming a human with free will?

fellas is it gay to wait a whole year, not even sure he would actually show up, just to use your ability (that can only be used once in a lifetime) to save his life even after he literally shot you in the back and did monstrous things?

fellas is it gay to hate all humans except for that one person that changed your mind? and stop the destruction of at least yokohama for him? even tho he's been dead for a year?

fellas is it gay to, when he didn't really like the hat you give him as a birthday present, instead give him his life back?

fellas is it gay to spend the rest of your life underground, because the outside world doesn't interest you anymore because your one friend is dead so now you just train others like he used to do?

[dailypav]

Pav digging straight down in Minecraft

Drawing Pav every day until he's playable: Day 84

aw fuck

[disastersareajoy]

The Shower Incident

Stu x Billy x FEM!Reader

Tags: Sex toy, masturbation, voyeurism for a sec, dirty stuff happens in the shower obviously, dirty talk, degradation, praise, lots of kissing, marking, handjob, edging, begging, slight dacryphilia, mention of denial, mention of being tied up, mention of oral (fem receiving, and giving to a toy), mention of double penetration, mention of anal (fem and male receiving), open end, Sub!Reader, Dom!Billy, implied Switch!Stu but mostly Sub!Stu

Hiya babes!

I had this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone the entire day so I wrote it down and if I do say so myself: This shit it pretty hot.

I'm super glad my first public fic is with these two idiots because I love them to the moon and back and cannot get enough of them. I hope you enjoy this wild ride - I know I did. I wrote this in like an hour and then proofread it four times total, but English isn't my first language so if you see any mistakes feel free to (politely) let me know and I will fix it. Same as any tags I missed. Of course, non mistake related comments are also very welcomed. I hope you thouroughly enjoy this product of my brain rot! Let me know what ya think.

Stu and Billy had been away for a few days and you were needy. Wanting to be bent over and fucked hard and rough, four hands gripping at your body and manipulating you into whatever position they desire. They were supposed to come back in the evening so you wanted to take a shower before then.

That's when the idea struck.

You practically stumbled over your own feet to get to the closet and pull out the box of toys the three of you had accumulated over time.

You picked out your favorite dildo and quickly made your way to the bathroom. With the help of the suction cup the toy stuck to the shower wall. After cleaning yourself in record speed you bent over and pushed back onto the dildo. It filled you slowly and stretched you perfectly. Your wetness made the intrusion easy but the thickness of the toy still made you pause, and forced you to take a couple of deep breaths. Although it wasn't long before you were fucking yourself back onto it and completely loosing your mind in the process. Moaning their names and begging into the empty room.

At the same time Billy and Stu were on their way up to your shared apartment. The two of them decided to surprise you by coming home a couple hours early so you could eat dinner together and cuddle up in front of the TV.

When they came through the front door and weren't immediately met with your smiling face, kissing and hugging them in greeting, they were a bit perplexed.

That was until they heard the shower running.

And then they heard a litany of moans, accompanied by a loud slapping sound of skin against tile. They shared a look and ventured closer to the bathroom door which you had left open a crack in your hurry to fuck yourself.

The sight they find absolutely takes their breath away. The shower is on and water is hitting your back as you're bent over nothing, supporting yourself with your hands against the wall as you continuously slam your ass back onto the dildo stuck to the tile wall. They can see the toy glistening with your wetness and someone lets out a groan. You don't hear it and keep moving your hips with a clearly desperate and already fucked out sway to it.

They're both stuck in their spot, staring at the divine sight that is you. The way your body moves to get the perfect angle of the dildo, your thighs trembling with exertion and your hand aimlessly sliding against the wet wall, trying desperately to hold onto something. The way your pussy stretches to accommodate for the thickness of what they recognize as your favorite dildo. The one that you love sucking on when they both have you filled. Or that you love for them to fuck you with when they're getting your ass ready and you already need your pussy filled.

The dildo that's been in all of your holes to help pleasure, tease, edge and make you cum. They can't get enough of watching you throw yourself onto the dildo, making such loud and obscene noises.

What finally gets them to snap out of the trance your body has put them in is your next moan.

“Billy, please.” You interrupt yourself with another desperate whine. “Fuck, please fuck me harder. I need you so bad. Oh my god, Stu.” You elongate the end of Stu's name with a loud moan that's closer to a sob if anything. With the way your hips tilted, Billy suspects you found the perfect angle to hit that special spot inside you. Next to him, Stu breathes out a small moan and looks at Billy with a plea in his eyes.

“Go.”

With the okay given, Stu bursts through the door and is on you in no time. He grabs your face in both hands and barely sees your eyes open in surprise before he has his mouth pressed to yours. Desperately making out with you while making sure you're still fucking yourself onto the dildo. He mumbles out praises between kisses, not able to stop himself from telling you how good you look.

"You look delicious. Fucking yourself so desperately, moaning our names like we're here with you. You that pent up, baby? It's been three days and you're so needy you start fucking yourself how you want us to fuck you, huh?”

“But it's not the same, is it?”

Now Billy joins in as well. He already stripped out of his clothes, completely naked and palming at his erection while Stu kneels halfway under the spray of water, drenching his clothes. You mewl a negative, not trusting yourself with words. Afraid that if you pull away from Stu and open your mouth the only thing coming out would be pleas and their names.

“No. Even though our good little slut is filled to the brim by a toy and is fucking herself just as fast as we do, she still can't quite get it right. Can you, doll?”

You make a non-committal noise and place your hands on Stu's shoulders, thankful to have something to hold on to. Billy is unsatisfied with your wordless answer and grabs Stu by his hair, pulling his head back to expose his long neck, stopping you from hiding in his kisses. Stu whines long and loud before staring back at you, desperation clear in his eyes.

“Please baby, answer him.”

“Aww. Would you look at that? At least one whore here remembers his manners.”

Billy leans down to press hungry kisses onto Stu's mouth. Both of them moaning into each other's mouth, making you want even more. You mewl and whine at the display in front of you. Billy pulls away from Stu's mouth with a grin that he then turns on you.

“You better start using your words. Or he's gonna get all the attention and you can watch without touching yourself. And cumming will be completely off the table.” With that he attaches his mouth to Stu's neck, kissing up and down, sucking marks into the soft skin and biting. Which makes Stu let out the most beautiful array of whines and moans you've ever heard.

“Please,” you manage to breathe out.

“Please, what?” Billy still has his face in Stu's neck while answering, not letting his mouth detach for long. You whine and can't help yourself from slowing down your movements to gather your thoughts long enough to form a sentence.

“Please, Billy. Please fuck me. Both of you. I need you so bad, please ” Billy pulls away from Stu and grabs your jaw hard with his hand, turning your face in his direction. He gets close to you and smirks. “There she is. That's the good little whore we've been waiting to fuck for three days.” He doesn't let you answer before attaching his lips to yours and making you moan into his mouth. He lets go of your jaw and grabs your shoulders instead, shoving you back onto the dildo, hard. You moaned into his mouth as he forces you to start fucking yourself again. Distantly, you hear Stu whine as he kneels in front of you and waits for his turn to be kissed again.

Once you have a steady rhythm going again, Billy pulls away. He looks at you with a grin and you could tell he has something planned.

“Now, I asked you a question. And you didn't answer. Instead, you made out with this little attention whore next to me.” A moan from Stu. “But I want you to answer my question. I will not repeat it, and neither will Stu. You're gonna have to use your big girl brain and remember what I asked you. And you're not gonna stop fucking yourself on that dildo. If you slow down you don't get to cum. If you stop you get to watch, tied up and gagged as I fuck Stu into the mattress.” A whine from Stu. “But if you keep going and answer me correctly,” his grin widens and he leans back slightly. “Then you get exactly what you want.”

You moan, frustrated that you don't immediately remember what he asked you. While you're desperately trying to remember the question and not slow down your hips, Billy starts helping Stu get his wet clothes off. He also shuts off the water which leaves your skin cooling down rapidly, goosebumps appearing on your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

Once he has all of Stu's clothes off, he kneels behind him and starts palming his dick. Slowly but firmly taking it in hand and stroking him up and down. Stu lets his head fall back onto Billy's shoulder and moans unabashedly at how good he feels. How good Billy is making him feel. The sight makes your concentration waver. Your mind is completely empty, safe for the two beautiful men in front of you. The way their hair sticks to their foreheads, Billy looking at you with hunger in his eyes and that feral edge. Stu squeezes his eyes shut as he softly starts thrusting into Billy's hand. Usually that would have earned him a slap to the thighs and a warning, but right now all Billy wanted was to tease you.

He takes pity on you as Stu grows closer and closer, holding onto Billy and you with one hand each.

“I'll give you a little hint, darling. How does the dildo feel?” Suddenly his words sprang back into your mind.

“Even though our good little slut is filled to the brim by a toy and is fucking herself just as fast as we do, she still can't quite get it right. Can you, doll?”

You immediately scramble for an answer.

“Fuck, Billy.”

“Good start.”

You whine once more as your hips desperately try to keep up the pace Billy had set for you.

“I can't get it right,” you sob in frustration as your wetness drips down your legs. With the shower turned off you can be sure it was the juices of your pussy that are making such obscene noises and dripping slowly down your thighs.

Billy gives Stu's sensitive tip extra attention, making the tall man writhe in his place on Billy's lap. He moans as a blush spreads down his chest. “That's right doll, you can't. But why? And you better hurry because if Stu cums before you answer, you're watching.” He chuckles at your frustrated groan and speeds up his hand on Stu's cock.

“I- oh my fuckin God. I can't get it right because-” Stu moans loud and desperate, getting closer each second. “Because it's not hard enough.” Billy hums long, considering your answer. “Yes. But why?” You groan again, this time louder and with more annoyance behind it. “Careful,” Billy spoke low and with warning.

With one last whine you focus all your concentration on your words and close your eyes. “I can't get it right because you fuck me so much harder and I can't fake that. I need your hands on my hips as you pull me into every thrust and I need you to speak to me, to call me names and to tell me I'm doing good. I need you to pound into me like I'm your personal toy and I can't fake that with a dildo, please. Please fuck me like I need you to. I'm begging you Billy, please.”

You prepare yourself to hear Billy ask you for another, better answer, but it didn't come. Instead you hear Stu's sob and whine as he is denied his orgasm. No doubt having been right on the edge. When you open your eyes again, Stu looks back at you with tired, teary eyes and his mouth hanging open. Billy on the other hand looks absolutely feral. His eyes have a certain glint in it that tells you that you are in for a ride.

He reaches out to touch your cheek and strokes his thumb over your skin. “That's a good girl. And just in time too.” He softly pushes Stu to sit on the shower floor and keeps a leg behind his back to help him stay upright while he pulls on your shoulders to stop you from continuing to fuck yourself on your dildo. “Now, you have 5 minutes to help Stu get up and get both of your asses to the bedroom. I want you on the bed, legs spread and ready with Stu right between them. He gets to make you extra worked up with his mouth as a bit of revenge for his edge.” At that, Stu hums satisfied and lets out a chuckle.

“I'm gonna watch him edge you however often he sees fit, and then we're both going to fuck you. Nice and hard.” Billy grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a quick kiss before staring at you an inch away from your face. “Because I know that's what our little whore craves. Isn't it?” You nod eagerly and correct yourself with a quick “Yes sir,” before Billy can say anything.

As soon as Billy lets go of your jaw and nods his head towards the bathroom door, you're scrambling to help Stu on his feet, your own knees still wobbly.

Billy watches as the two of you slowly make your way to the bedroom with shaky legs, sees how wet your thighs are and how there's still more dripping out of your glistening pussy. He watches Stu grab your ass, squeezing the flesh beneath his finger in a way that is sure to be a promise of all the teasing that's to come. He truly can't wait to see Stu ruin you with his mouth before they fuck you until you can't remember your own name.

God, he loves the both of you so much.

---

Please don't repost or reupload this fic anywhere else. It's mine and I'd love to keep it that way.

[strawberryjamsara]

Man I’m thinking back to when Kyoko tells Sayaka ‘Magic should only be used to grant wishes for yourself or it’s bad. Don’t tell me Mami never taught you that.’

When you first watch the series it seems like such a straightforwardly nasty thing to say. Like she’s suggesting Mami was a bum mentor for not telling Sayaka to only look out for number one.

But when you know the history between Mami and Kyoko it becomes heartbreaking. Mami saw what happened when Kyoko made a wish for her father. How she was left homeless, the only survivor of her family for her own mistake. She’s legitimately upset that Mami would just not let Sayaka in on the disastrous consequences of trying to be a big hero, that she’d be so flagrant, so much so that she’s now speaking ill of a dead person who was once her friend. It’s tragic how much they fell apart, how Kyoko is stuck in a defeatist mindset, how Mami warned Sayaka beforehand about making a wish for someone else but she did in the end just want someone to be with after her only friend left in the world couldn’t stand the idea of her justice, that she just wanted someone to help there be less tragedies like hers, a belief she shared with Kyoko, but with their two tragedies being so utterly conflicted, Mamis tragedy because she wished for herself, Kyoko because she wished for someone else, that they could never work together again.

[violetriorsons]

—in a world alone (we're all alone);

a collection of missing moments based on xaden's letters to violet. // pre-FW; iron flame spoilers.

part one.

“sgaeyl watched me kill another cadet for bullying garrick during threshing. she says she chose me for my ruthlessness, but i think i just reminded her of my grandfather.” — chapter 12 (iron flame).

.::.

The number one objective: don't die today.

It's proven to be a shockingly easy goal over the last few hours. A quick glance at the sun in the sky tells Xaden it's the start of the afternoon, and the biggest problem he's faced since Threshing started at nine this morning is the uncharacteristically strong heat for the beginning of October.

It's unsettling — he knows damn well that Fen Riorson's son is at the top of the hit lists of a number of cadets in his year (and the other years, for that matter). And he also knows Threshing is the best opportunity any of them are going to get to finally settle any bets.

It's why when his year dispersed this morning, Xaden had made a point to move in the opposite direction than Garrick and Masen. The target on his back is too big today to risk his only friends.

But so far, it seems his worries were for nothing. The few cadets he's come across over the last four or so hours have paid him nothing more than a wary glare, clearly far more interested in finding their dragons than wasting time trying to run a sword through him.

The dragons Xaden has passed by have also ignored him, both to his relief and mild dismay. The jitters in his chest persist, but for new reasons.

For months, the most common and accepted rhetoric he's heard spread throughout the quadrant is that no self-respecting dragon would go through the disgrace of bonding a marked one. That there's nothing worthy in the children of the people who had threatened the safety of human- and dragonkind all over Navarre.

Up until now, Xaden hadn't let himself dwell on the theory. His priority was keeping himself, his friends, and the rest of the marked ones in his year alive (a feat he's already fumbled, twice). But now, walking through the disturbingly quiet forest, there's no escaping the nauseating fear that everyone was right.

If he'd had the choice, Xaden thinks he might've gone into infantry to honor his father's wishes. He hadn't had the time to figure out for himself what he'd wanted to do with his life before fate and the lost Battle of Aretia had written his destiny for him. Before he knew it, the apostasy had come and tragically gone, and he was suddenly saddled with a hundred and seven souls to keep out of Malek's all-too greedy hands.

Three years ago, Xaden had brokered a deal with General Sorrengail to keep the orphans of his father's allies alive. He knows his father would've abhorred the agreement, but the man had also taught him well about making tough decisions. And making it through the riders' quadrant was their only shot at survival.

But now he's dreading that he might've sentenced them all to a worse fate: if the dragons aren't interested in bonding them, they'll all be doomed to relive their first year in the riders' quadrant over and over until Malek finally decides to collect his due.

Xaden hears the crackling of dragonfire in the near distance— too near for his liking. He quickens his steps as he searches around him in vain for any spot of blue.

Unlike Garrick this morning, Xaden did have a certain dragon from Presentation on his mind. An enormous, navy Blue Daggertail that had left him stunned when he saw it near the end of his deadly stroll yesterday.

He'd stopped dead in his tracks when he'd first caught sight of it, and had Garrick not given him a shove from behind, he's sure that he would've ended up a pile of ashes for daring to look a dragon in the eye for as long as he did.

It was an honest mistake. Xaden had felt something shift inside of him when he locked eyes with the beast, a sharp thrill that lingered long after the first-year cadets had all retreated to their bunks for the night.

Though judging by the icy narrowing of the dragon's eyes as it stared back at him, he thinks maybe the feeling was not mutual.

The thought is reinforced by the fact that he hasn't caught a single hint of her presence anywhere this morning. Idly, Xaden wonders if perhaps the Daggertail had picked another cadet at the start of Threshing, and his mood begins to sour.

But before he can linger any longer on his newfound worries, he hears a familiar shout nearby that has his stomach dropping.

It's Garrick.

All thoughts of the Blue Daggertail are forgotten as Xaden races in the direction of the shout.

The number one objective: don't die today. It goes for himself and especially for his best friend.

Xaden may or may not bond a dragon today. But if nothing else, he'll gladly spend the rest of the day making damn sure his friends make it out of this forest alive.

The shouting continues as he approaches, and Xaden recognizes the voice of Garrick's opponent just before they both come into view.

Prince Alic.

Xaden should've seen this one coming. He'd been too concerned about the target on his own back to consider that his friends have also made enemies in the quadrant all on their own.

The limp-dick, sorry excuse of a prince had wasted no time trying to assert dominance in the quadrant after crossing the Parapet this summer. He's been a terror to most, the Riorson son included, but Alic has had it out for Garrick since he lost to him during assessment week on the mat.

And apparently, he's decided Threshing is the perfect setting to enact his revenge.

Garrick's one of the best in their year when it comes to sparring, but the royal training the asswipe of a prince has under his belt makes him more than a worthy adversary. And though Xaden would be willing to bet that Alic snuck up on Garrick, any matters of honor and dirty tactics don't matter much if Alic makes it out of this forest with Garrick's head in the end.

Rage waves over Xaden and he barely manages to wrangle it back under control so he can slow his steps and assess the situation from a distance.

So far, Garrick seems to be holding his own well enough.

Xaden wavers, unsure of whether to step in or let his friend prove himself to any dragon who may be paying attention.

"I'm betting the prince loses his head."

The unfamiliar, feminine voice startles him out of focus from the fight. He hadn't noticed the giant shadow under his feet that now blankets his immediate area, and when he twists around to look for the source of the voice he finds himself face to face with the navy Blue Daggertail he'd been seeking all morning.

"Holy shit," he curses without thinking, and he just barely stops himself from scrambling backward. Dragons typically don't respond well to cowardice, and he doubts this particular one is any exception.

Her size had been daunting during Presentation, but having her right in front of him now, with her head lowered to his eye level and a bit too close for comfort, it dawns on him what a monstrosity of a creature she is — especially compared to the other dragons he's come across in the field today.

Suddenly, Xaden can't remember exactly why he'd been searching for her in the first place. Does he have a death wish?

The dragon's head moves forward, and Xaden locks his knees in place as she gives him a quick sniff at his chest before lightly blowing steam in his face through her nostrils.

"There's something very familiar about you." Her voice echoes in his head again, and his heart is threatening to break through his ribcage as she stays in his personal space and continues her perusal of him.

Xaden arches an eyebrow. Familiar? "Yeah, we kinda met at Presentation..." His joke falls flat, but he pushes forward. "I'm Xaden —" He stops short of saying his last name, and his earlier fear surges back with a vengeance.

Despite all it's cost him, Xaden has never been at odds with the war his father had started. Their country was corrupt, rotten to the core, and the price Xaden has been made to pay for his father's actions has only strengthened his belief in Fen Riorson's cause.

But would the dragon agree with that?

"Riorson," the dragon finishes for him, rather absentmindedly — uninterested, even — as she sniffs at his hair. She says nothing more, all her focus on her odd inspection of him, and some of Xaden's nerves give way to confusion.

Is it a good sign that this dragon is currently covering his leathers in snot?

As if in response, the dragon chuffs. "Better that than being charred by dragonfire, I would think."

Xaden's eyes widen in return. Did she hear his thoughts?

"Very true," he breathes. He tenses again, keeping quiet as he awaits judgment from the dragon he'd spent all night thinking about.

With no warning, the dragon lifts a claw and swipes it over the upper left side of Xaden's face, too quick for him to see it coming. The claw breaks the skin deep over his brow, nicking the eyelid he'd managed to close out of pure instinct, and digging through the top of his cheek.

"Fuck," he swears without thinking, instinctively lifting a hand to his eyebrow. His fingers come back bloody.

"There," the dragon says, sounding satisfied as she lowers her head to his level again. "Now I see it."

"Interesting word choice after almost taking my fucking eye out." He can't help himself from expressing his disdain as he works to keep the blood from seeping into his eye. "What do you see?"

"I'd given your grandfather a similar scar during his Threshing. It'd been accident then."

Surprise quells the anger. His brows knit together, the movement making the sting from his new wound worse. "You knew my grandfather?" He didn't even know his grandfather. From either side of the family.

"He came before you. But he didn't make it out of the quadrant." Her words are matter-of-fact, but there's an undertone of sadness that has Xaden believing she feels the loss far deeper than he ever could.

"I'm sorry...," he trails off, not sure how he's supposed to address her. He wipes more blood away from his brow before it gets in his eye.

"Sgaeyl," she offers distractedly, her eyes moving beyond him, to the sword fight still being waged in the tiny clearing behind him. "I said the prince would lose his head today. Why don't you go prove me right?"

Xaden turns back around and tenses, cursing himself for forgetting about Garrick.

Blood is now flowing from Garrick's left shoulder but he's paying it no mind as he raises his sword up to block Alic's attempt to slice Garrick's right arm off. As the two swords clash, Alic gets in a sloppy, but effective kick to the side of Garrick's calf that has him going down.

Garrick manages to twist his body last-minute to land on his side and avoid getting the wind knocked out of him. But the maneuver has his wounded shoulder taking the brunt of his fall.

Xaden's moving toward them before he even realizes it, silently drawing his own sword as he approaches. His heart is hammering again as he watches Alic raise his weapon to take the final strike.

Xaden sword is quicker, and he runs it through Alic's back, deep enough that it reappears through his abdomen. Alic's response is a garbled groan, and Xaden lifts his foot to kick the prince off his sword.

Alic falls forward, the force of Xaden's kick sending him face-first towards the ground — right where Garrick is lying.

Garrick rolls out of the way just as Alic hits the dirt. His eyes meet Xaden's with a flash of gratitude as he works to get himself up.

Xaden waits to make sure his best friend is good before turning his attention back to the dying prince, who's working mightily to get up onto his knees.

"You're a... worthless piece... of shit, son of a... traitor..." Alic's rambles are out of breath as he continues to bleed out on the ground.

Xaden hears the dragon grumble behind him, and he can feel the wordless expectation emanating from her as she waits impatiently for him to follow her earlier command. He spares a quick glance at Garrick again, who's retrieved his sword but is distracted by the dragon who's stepped out from the trees and into view.

"Sorry I butted in," Xaden tells Garrick with a sheepish grin. "But I've been asked for his head." He tilts his head in the dragon's direction as means of explanation. Garrick's eyes widen, but he chooses to stay silent in the presence of the dragon, giving Xaden a firm nod instead.

Before he can think too hard about it, Xaden swipes his sword through the neck of the still-rambling royal. The man's head hits the ground with a sickening thud, and Xaden works to keep his breakfast down.

Though not his first kill, it is the first time he's ever decapitated someone. It turns his stomach in the worst way, even as he feels a small twinge of satisfaction in getting to behead one of King Tauri's sons.

Perhaps he's not quite as monstrous as he's come to feel over the last few months — yet.

He's still got a dragon to impress, so he forces down the nausea, compartmentalizes any horror he may feel over adding to his body count, and bends down to retrieve the severed head by its hair.

He turns toward the dragon and tosses the head at her feet, making sure to keep his eyes off the ground and on hers the entire time.

She chuffs in what seems like approval. "Ruthless."

A heady rush of pride sweeps through him, giving him confidence as he admits to her, almost accusingly, "I've been looking for you all morning." Her earlier words about his grandfather finally sink in.

He came before you.

She'd chosen him. And now she's choosing Xaden.

She lets out another chuff. "I woke late. And I refuse to skip breakfast, even for Threshing."

Xaden smiles, glancing behind him to see that Garrick has disappeared. His smile wavers, and he worries over the wound in his friend's arm. Will he be okay to keep dragon-seeking?

"You care a lot for him. And for the others." It's a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Xaden answers anyway. He forces down the trepidation over letting her in on his secrets.

The marked ones and Aretia are who he's dedicated his life to, and there's no point in trying to hide it from her. She needs to know who she's choosing, and what he'll be continuing to fight for. And all the types of monsters he's willing to fight against.

"You carry scars for the ones you're devoted to," she notes. "And now you'll carry one for me as well."

The reminder of the wound on his brow cuts through the adrenaline enough for him to feel the sting again. But her words erase any lingering resentment he may have felt over the scratch.

She steps forward. "Get on my back. The cadet you saved will be just fine, and your other friend has already been chosen. There's no point in spending any more time around here tempting the cadets who'd love to take your own head off your shoulders."

Xaden exhales in relief at the news about Masen, and decides to trust her certainty that Garrick will make it just fine on his own.

He hesitates for just a second, calculating the best strategy to make it up her leg. The gauntlet didn't quite prepare him as well for a dragon of her size. It's a challenge, but he makes it up to her back, avoiding the spikes at her neck, and reaches the divot with only minor embarrassment.

"Didn't you practice?" she chastises him, but her tone is light.

"Of course I did." He rolls his eyes. "But you're huge."

She chuffs. "Wait until you see my mate. You'll see who's the real monstrosity of a creature."

Xaden lifts a brow, fighting the discomfort of her knowing what he had been thinking earlier. "Is that always...?" He trails off, not sure how to phrase the question.

She scoffs. "Get used to it, cadet. I know everything about you. I always will." It almost sounds like a threat.

He nods, mostly to himself, knowing he'll just need time to adjust to it.

As a means of distraction, the dragon formally introduces herself. But she also launches into the sky as she does so, and her words are lost to the wind whooshing past Xaden's ears as he directs his focus on staying seated as she flies high above the trees.

He remembers her earlier introduction, though — her name is Sgaeyl. She's a navy Blue Daggertail, once bonded to his grandfather.

Unbidden, a memory from many years ago of his mother rises to the surface. She'd told him once that her father had entered the riders' quadrant while she was a baby. She never got to meet him.

"Dragons aren't allowed to bond direct descendants of their previous riders," Xaden notes lightly, trying to shake off the heavy feeling that comes from remembering his mother.

Sgaeyl stays silent, and Xaden interprets it to mean that she has little care for any rule that may stand in the way of what she wants. And what she wants at the moment is him.

"I could go mad," he continues absentmindedly. Judging from the excited flip his stomach just did at the thought of being wanted by this dragon, he may already be half-way there.

"You won't go mad," Sgaeyl asserts.

He arches his wounded brow. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I chose you," she scoffs.

He grins at the arrogance, but his chest fills with pride. And anticipation, as he sees the flight field getting nearer in the distance.

Soon, they'll be landing in the field. Soon, he'll be walking up the dais to look the roll keeper and General Sorrengail in the eye and announce the name of his new dragon — and relish in the shocked faces of Commandant Panchek, Captain Fitzgibbons, Colonel Aetos, and anyone else who doubted that a dragon would choose Fen Riorson's son — or any marked one.

Sgaeyl knows everything about him. And she chose him.

Xaden Riorson is officially a rider.

[neonsheepe]

Observe; Monitor; Scrutinize

Making of:

[quietsounds]

𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐅 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

"𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 '𝘞𝘩𝘺? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?' 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 '..𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘨, 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘻𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺.' 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, '𝘖𝘩.' "

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I love Obi Wan and I think not mercy-killing Anakin when he was on fire was the worst thing he ever did, absolutely deplorable, and I also think that’s sexy of him

[saltuarium]

femslash february day 2 - nanako/rei

[ants-personal]

Imagining a time in which benson and randy where on the closing shift together. Everything went as smoothly as it could during dinner course chris and jess would leave as soon as the manger was out of the lot "I can count on you to clean the kitchen for me right Bradley ;) make me loook good" leaving randy and benson to lock up and clean up.

Benson just doing hes usual slow half ass job cleaning the lobby while randy would take it upon himself to count the inventory. Hes never been assigned it and he really had to teach himself both mangers not caring to but he finds it sorta relaxing sucks now he has to clean thw entire kitchen drive thru and hell late going home.

He already called his mother to let her know and shes not happy about it but he can deal with it later. Getting lost counting all the dry goods in the back. He assumes hes alone in the building besons not rude enough not to say bye but if he finished he probably wouldnt go out of his way to see randy in the back to say bye. And he wouldnt blame him for just leaving.

He would try and grab something from the top shelve but its just to high so hed have to get the stool. Turning to ace his clip board down jumping and stumbling back a bit with a squeak seeing benson leaning in the doorway one arm crossed while he rest his fingers over his chin.

Both are silent for a moment randy getting his heartrate back down taking a deep breath as benson stares before readjusting himself to crosing his arms

"Sorry, bradley didnt mean to scare ya."

"No..no im- its fine. I um.. just thought you already is all."

"I just finished the lobby."

"Okay.. thanks." Randy nods slightly with a quick smile. Bensons eyes flicker like he searching randys face for.. something aniexty spiking he clenchs and unclench his fists " So ill see you monday."

Benson nods slowly watching him with his eyes as he walks across the room to grab the step stool. He purposly avoids eye contact sparing quick glances. Hes never been afraid of benson sure hes intimating with the whole quiet stand offish personality, but hes never given a reason to actually fear him.

"You really gonna clean up after chris and the others?" Benson sighs taking a step towards randy as he climbs up to grab a box half filled with cups. Arms still crossed as he looks up from under his hats visor.

" Um.. I- uh i guess yeah but..but i dont mind" He stumbles off the stool box in hand turning to benson with a shrug.

Bensons takes a deep breath and sighs arm falling to his side as he runs his forehead under his hat. Randy sets the box down and picks up his clipboard he chews his lip as he looks at the sleeves of cups about to open his mouth to say anything something to end this conversation.

"Okay" Benson breaths out readjusting his hat before turning to leave.

Randy lifts his head to watch hin go rolling the pencil betwen his fingers. Hes not sure why his nerves are firing away fighting benson hadnt done anything maybe he sounded slightly irritated but he always did working unless he was saying bye.

He hadnt said bye.

Randy quickly throws the box back on the shelve. Scrambling to grab his clipboard and rushing out of the back as quickly and queistly as he could. He scans the lobby and it looks well as best as it could but turning towards the window.

There still parked next to his car is the yellow buick. But no sign of benson inside or near it. Randys grip tightens on his board knuckles turning white as he tries to shilwd himself from what hes not sure with its filmsy wood.

Suddenly loud rock music starts blasting from the back. Randy turning slowly towards the enterance nerves calming as confusion washes over him. He licks his lips before moving towards the entrance glancing around the corner eyes widening at the sight.

Its benson hes turned hisbhat backwards cigarette resting between his lips as he bops his head to music throwing dishes the sink with little regard and turning on the tap.

Randy fullt stands in the doorway now he isnt even aware of the small smile on his face. Hes never seen benson so .. lively its nice. Warmth spreads throughtout his body snd he shakes his head hes not sure what that was but hell deal with it .. later as well.

Fully stepping into the kitchen area benson noticing him with a nod and raise of his eyes brows. Moving clean dished at least to a bin hes outs on the counter. Taking a deep drag of his cigarette removing it from his mouth.

"Finish counting?" He barely says liuder then the music with slight tilt of his head.

Randy blinks a few times he was so engrossed in watching he wasnt ready to part lf another conversation.

" I-uh yeah.. well no actually. I have to do the freezer and um fridge." He points with the pencil behind benson where the side room breaks off to the doors. " But i just ... i can do all this. Ahem- I dont want to keep you or anything." Hes not even sure if benson heard him over the music hes not exactly shouting.

He swears he can see benson at least grim behind his hand as he brings his cigarette back up for a moment but its gone when he stubs it on the counter and tosses it in the bin. Looking back up with a shake of his head

"Just hurry up so we both can go home Brad" Turning back to the sink and spraying whatever dishes are left. Randy nods even if benson cant see him and quickly rushes to the fridge closing the door behind him leaning against it. All while hearing the muffled music and banging he could only hope is part of the cleaning.

[talesofourworlds]

@outoftheirdifferences liked for a Jay starter (somewhat plotted!)

"Hey, anybody want to take me on? If you can beat me, I'll give you fifty bucks! ...That's what that person just said!"

He stood there, pointing dramatically at a white-haired boy some distance from the park's fountain. The look on his face conveyed the shock in his tone as he'd spoken. No one seemed the wiser to the fact he'd been imitating the other boy's voice to the best of his ability at first.

Okay. Maybe Jay was having a little bit of fun causing a bit of mischief for someone in the park. There was a new kid in his class, and Jay hadn't gotten a chance to try and poke at him while they'd been in classes that day. He'd wanted to see what sort of person the new boy was, and when the newcomer had been blatantly ignoring his attempts to make conversation... well, that just wouldn't do. Jay wanted to know about him. Needed to know. Since the other boy had refused to help him learn, this just seemed like the best course of action.

The pure confusion on the other boy's face was all Jay could have asked for. Fortunately, it didn't take long for someone to take the newcomer up on his 'offer.' It was another one of the boys from their school. Moses, Jay noted just from his red hair and attitude. He stepped back, giving the two room to do their thing. Honestly, Jay didn't need to stick around to see how it played out. Someone would break them up eventually. This mostly was a means of poking at the newcomer and also just entertaining himself. Perhaps not the... healthiest form of entertainment, but given everything? Acceptable enough compared to things he could have been doing.

Things were relatively quiet in his life now, all things considered. It had been a few years since he'd been adopted by the Oreson brothers, and for the most part Jay had settled into his life. A marked improvement from where he had come from. Also a marked improvement from potentially being dead. On all accounts, it looked like Jay lived a pretty normal life now. If that meant he felt the need to cause some problems for classmates or potentially getting into fights with the likes of Moses at school? All par for the course. He couldn't have been happier.

It looked like things were relatively peaceful in the park, too. Some people were watching the shenanigans between Moses and the other boy, but for the most part there wasn't much of a turnout. Go figure. Oh well, he thought. He'd gotten what he wanted.

Then, all of a sudden, there was a distinct rumbling sound that filled the air. Jay tensed. That wasn't normal. People were looking around for what was causing it, and he was right there with them. The smart thing to do would be getting home and avoiding trouble, but that need to know what was going on itched at the back of his mind. So he lingered, purple eyes darting this way and that as he tried to look for the source.

At last, he saw it. From the ground, a drilling device of some kind emerged. Some kind of robot? Jay squinted as the thing emerged and seemed to come to life. It wasn't tiny by any means, but no bigger than a small dog. The device looked almost akin to a mole or something of that sort. Whatever it was, it was doing something. It looked like it had some kind of camera on the front of it, and now that it was out of the ground it was moving. Moving toward the path leading out of the park and toward the buildings.

Well. That wasn't good. His mind screamed at him to go home. His adoptive family wouldn't want him getting involved. Something beckoned Jay to do so, though, and so the pale boy followed the robot while other people in the park headed in the opposite direction.

He was able to follow the robot for a bit before something happened. Nothing involving the robot, but instead happening to catch sight of a girl from the corner of his eye. Instinct took hold. Jay hopped back, narrowly avoiding colliding with her, and when he straightened himself out he looked her way.

Huh. Jay didn't remember seeing her before. She looked like she might have been a little younger than him at the very most, so there was a chance they went to the same school. That wasn't a bad thing, of course. Just curious.

"That was close. Don't tell me you were following that thing, too," he said. Why else would they have been going in the same direction?