#this poll can go choke and die

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]

In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.

Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!

TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death

[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]

He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men. 

Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:

"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."

The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him. 

No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood. 

He has become a beast. 

And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose. 

That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle. 

"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."

You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle. 

"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin. 

"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink. 

The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.

Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating. 

The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room. 

Tonight shall be a feast.

The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe. 

His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.

You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...

No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be? 

The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution. 

The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears. 

There you are.

Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.

"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.

"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.

"You may check on her if you so desire, however..." 

He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached. 

"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."

You can only stare.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."

"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion. 

He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.

"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"

"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-" 

You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony. 

"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up. 

Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft. 

[whumpuary]

Welcome to Whumpuary 2024!

Whumpuary is a whump themed mixed-media creation event/challenge taking place in January.

This year the prompts came together through a community submission form and then a poll, where I picked the 53 most voted prompts! There are 15 numbers with 3 prompts each, plus 8 alt prompts. The dates are just meant to be a general guideline for those who want/need some structure in a challenge (e.g post every other day), but you don't actually have to create/post on those dates. You can combine prompts any way you want or just pick one of each number, do every single one or even all of them combined into one big creation (or just use one single prompt. That's already an achievement!) If you don't like any prompts of a number you can also replace or combine them with an alt prompt. The main or alt prompts don't have to be done in order.

Go here for more information, rules and the tagging system Go here for FAQs

The inbox is open for any questions!

Text version of all the prompts is under the cut

Whumpuary 2024 Main Prompts 1. (Jan 01-02) Captivity / Snow / Secret Revealed 2. (Jan 03-04) "Get away from me" / Collapse / Choking 3. (Jan 05-06) Used as bait / Stumbling / "This is gonna hurt" 4. (Jan 07-08) "Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling 5. (Jan 09-10) Can't move / "Stay. Please" / Kidnapped 6. (Jan 11-12) Exhaustion / Blindfolded / Old Injuries 7. (Jan 13-14) "I didn't know where else to go" / Bruises / Drugged 8. (Jan 15-16) Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" 9. (Jan 17-18) "Make it stop" / Restraints / Hair Grabbing 10. (Jan 19-20) Desperation / Gunpoint / Can't stay awake 11. (Jan 21-22) Blood / "Just get is over with" / Memories 12. (Jan 23-24) "You're awake" / Rescue / Unfair Fight 13. (Jan 25-26) Left to die / Barely Conscious / "I'm Fine" 14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation 15. (Jan 29-31) You're safe / Aftermath / Touch starved

Alt Prompts 1. Stabbed 2. "Let me see" 3. Recapture 4. Forced to watch 5. Headache 6. Gagged 7. "Do you trust me?" 8. Blood Loss

[steddieasitgoes]

Inspired by the tags I left on @phoenicae poll about our favorite way Eddie didn't die.

I know we all headcanon Steve being the one to carry Eddie out of the Upside Down when they make it back in time after defeating Vecna but consider:

Steve's own body is giving out on him. He's bleeding through the makeshift bandages Nancy fitted him with from all the running they've done getting back to Forest Hills. He's woozy and lightheaded and relying too much on Robin to keep him upright as they finally make it through the woods and spot Dustin and Eddie in the distance.

Dustin is crying, yelling about how Eddie still has a pulse and they can't leave him here, and Steve tries his best to suck up his own pain. Tells Dustin he'll get Eddie back through, but when he bends down to hoist Eddie up, his own knees give out and his vision blacks out.

There's more yelling and pulling, and before Steve knows it, he's being fully supported by Robin. Dustin hobbling behind them.

"We can't leave Eddie," he shouts, glancing over his shoulder as Robin guides him to Eddie's trailer door.

"Nancy's got him, come on!" she shouts, pulling him faster.

And then there's Nancy.

So-called priss Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy Wheeler, who lost Barb, her best friend, to the Upside Down three years ago.

Nancy Wheeler, who lost her classmate and friend Fred days ago because of the Upside Down.

Nancy Wheeler, who just spent several days keeping Eddie safe from a misguided witchhunt that is all the Upside Down's fault.

The same Nancy Wheeler who shot rounds and rounds of bullets through the monster controlling the Upside Down minutes ago.

Nancy Wheeler has been here before.

She's seen what the Upside Down does to a person.

Knows first-hand what it does to the people who get to escape while others don't.

Nancy Wheeler has lived with survivor's guilt for three fucking years.

And she's not going to let Dustin, her favorite of Mike's friends, have to learn what that survivor's guilt feels like.

She's not going to let another one of her friends die because of this place.

Not on her watch.

So, she drops to her knees and gets to work. Stars ripping her shirt to wrap around the worse of Eddie’s wounds, hoping it’ll keep some of the blood in. Eddie winces in pain and it’s the most beautiful sound Nancy’s ever heard because it means he’s still alive. 

“Come on, Eddie. Stay with me okay?” 

She’s left in just her bra when she finishes bandaging him up as best she can. His blood is already soaking through the cotton material and she can hear Robin shouting for her from inside the trailer. 

There’s no time to waste. 

She takes a deep breath, plants her feet and slowly hoists Eddie into her arms. His screams are defending but she tunes them out, running towards the trailer with all the energy she has left in her. 

“M’sorry, I thought you were a priss,” Eddie chokes out, blood oozing from his mouth. “You’re b-b-badass.” 

“You’re pretty badass yourself,” she says as she takes the stairs to the trailer two at a time. “Maybe when all this is done we can be badass together.” 

Eddie hums noncommittally as his eyes start to flutter and Nancy kicks herself into high gear. She manages to get him to clasp his hands around her neck, positions him so he’s on her back and starts climbing the rope. When they flip through, Nancy makes sure to turn their bodies so she absorbs the brunt of the fall, Eddie falling limply on her back with little protest. 

Nancy only has a moment to catch her breath before the door flies open and she’s following a dying Eddie into the back of an ambulance. Robin and Dustin piling into the ambulance for Steve. 

Days later when Hopper asks Nancy how the hell she carried Eddie through a gate in the ceiling, she shrugs. 

“I guess it’s like those moms who lift cars off their kids. I just did it.” 

“It’s because she’s badass,” Eddie supplies instead. “Badass Nancy Wheeler.” 

[maklodes]

I feel like I barely have the right to get into “Star Wars would be so good if it were good” posting given that I haven’t actually watched VII-IX, but I keep thinking about the myriad plots and subplots that could follow VI, after the fireworks stop, all without slamming the reset button.

Like, as of Episode VI’s end, Emperor Palpatine, Darth Vader, and Grand Moff Tarkin are all dead, but much of the rest of the Imperial bureaucracy and military are still intact. Maybe there’s a legal chain of succession that establishes who’s next, but probably it’s pretty weak, because tyrants generally don’t like saying “you know who would benefit greatly if I were to ‘accidentally’ drink poisoned blue milk and die? That guy!” So there’s a likelihood of power struggles, different factions emerging among moffs and admirals. How would the Alliance respond to two moffs waging a brutal war against each other, extorting civilians to death for supplies, bombarding civilian population centers that are not logistically accessible enough for their side to extort but that they think the other side will, etc? Can the Alliance afford to intervene to help the innocents suffering in this conflict, or is it best to just let their enemies weaken themselves and clean up afterwards?

Meanwhile, some moffs and governors see the writing on the wall, and are approaching the Alliance and saying “Yes, I was a high official in the Empire, but I was one of the good ones, working within the system to make it as humane and decent as possible. Now I am preparing to join the New Republic, and preparing to hold free elections on my planet(s) (supervised, of course, by the erstwhile-Imperial bureaucracy under my control – who else is around that could competently manage such an affair?) Yes, there are a few incidents during my reign that can be classified as atrocities, but I can assure you that if anyone else in the empire had been in charge, they would have been more numerous and severe (anyone harsher than me would’ve been worse, and anyone gentler would’ve been force-choked to death by Darth Vader and replaced), so let’s just leave those in the past and work together toward a better future.” Can the Alliance accept such a defector on those terms? Can the Alliance afford not to?

At the same time, former members of the senate – dissolved at the beginning of IV – are saying “Alright! With that tyrannical emperor gone, we are ready to get back into the action and help rebuild the Republic,” while more radical members of the Alliance are like “no, FUCK those old senators. Those were the guys who elected Palpatine chancellor. Then they kept giving him more and more emergency powers. Then they voted to make him emperor. Then they stuck around as a rubber stamp Imperial Senate for like fifteen years legitimizing the Empire, before the emperor finally dissolved the senate. A few of them may be okay, but they are all on probationary status in the politics of the New Republic at best, and many of them should be charged with corruption/oath violation/etc and barred from politics and maybe incarcerated/executed.”

Some people might even question the whole idea of One Galaxy Government going forward. Sure, there are advantages to having a singular Republic/Empire coordinating things, but there are risks. Maybe local control – with the risk of the occasional local dictator, or local border war – is safer than putting all eggs into one basket? Coordinating the resources of a galaxy has proven useful in destructive massive scale projects like planet-killer battle stations. Is there a more productive use case for that much broad scale coordination? 

As more systems democratize and lift censorship and restrictions on holonet, you get paranoia and rumors going around that this or that office-seeking politician is the Next Palpatine. When a planet’s leading candidate for senator faces rumors of being a Dark Sider, the runner-up currently polling at 48% clears her throat and says “The threat of the Dark Side is too serious to be turned into a political issue, and unfounded rumors and partisan smears do nothing to help us re-establish our still-fragile democratic norms. At the same time, any credible allegations of Dark Side influence merit a thorough and independent investigation. After all, recent experience has shown just how destructive the Dark Side can be: whole inhabited planets got destroyed! Once we establish a transparent, impartial process to examine these claims, we can move beyond all this baseless speculation about my opponent (and the baseless speculation that the first anonymous rumors were traced to a holonet account belonging to my campaign’s chief of staff).” You could have HUAC / McCarthy hearings type shit.

You could have some genuine (aspiring) Dark Side guys – no one who knows the true Sith teachings, but maybe some force sensitives who see the force as a Will To Power thing. (The Jedi haven’t been abducting children who show force potential for decades, and the Sith had no room beyond two, so I guess force sensitives have mostly sorta been figuring out what they could of this stuff themselves for a few decades? Most of them are probably pretty weaksauce compared to trained Sith/Jedi like Yoda or Palpatine, but maybe they can influence weak minds and shit) You could have any combination of actual Dark Side influence and rumors: have some people correctly accuse real Dark Side guys, have Dark Side guys spreading false rumors that their innocent opponents are on the Dark Side, have two different candidates both being Dark force sensitives, spreading rumors about each other (or one spreading rumors, being a down and dirty political fighter, and the other refusing to stoop to that and going for the Stately Above the Fray vibe, but secretly being comparably ruthless), or (perhaps most common) rumors of Dark Side influence being spread in politics when no one involved is actually even Force sensitive let alone in touch with the Dark Side.

You could go a little deeper: some people in the aftermath of the Empire might think  that the Force – both the Dark and Light sides – has held the galaxy kind of kind of technical and moral cul-de-sac, accounting for the ways in which the whole setting combines backwardness and advancement:

Why is it that in spite of having overcome the light barrier many millennia ago and being able to build small planet-sized battle stations, they seem to have made negligible progress against senescence and death generally? Because the Force provides a frame in which you either embrace the Dark Side, in which case triumph over mortality is a personal achievement to be hoarded and lorded over your inferiors, or you adhere to the Light Side, in which case you reject the “unnatural abilities” of Dark immortality. Progress against mortality at a collective, civilizational level doesn’t make sense from either of those perspectives.

Why is it that in spite of apparently being fully sentient in many cases, droids are still treated as chattel property without rights? Why is it that they still seem to have widespread animal agriculture? Maybe because the Force doesn’t notice forms of sentience that have no or negligible midichlorian counts or force sensitivity or whatever. Obi-Wan could probably walk past a droid refurbishing facility where droids are getting reset to factory settings, or a slaughterhouse, and not feel any “disturbance in the force, voices crying out in terror and suddenly being silenced” etc, and when the Light Side is treated in some respects as the moral arbiter of the setting, and when a big part of the Light Side is “trust your feelings,” and when the “force feelings” don’t really apply to beasts or droids, they don't get a lot of consideration.

Why is it that the only visions of authority are somewhere on a spectrum from “centralized, despotic autocracy” (the Empire) to “decentralized, semi-feudal oligarchy” (the Republic, with a Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth-style weak senatorial authority, proliferation of local nobles like counts and princesses, etc, and, perhaps to an even further extent along that spectrum, the Confederacy of Independent Systems)? Maybe because it reflects  how the Force tends to structure itself: the Dark Side tends to concentrate power in the hands of a couple of megalomaniacs. The Light Side tends to distribute it across a broader order of Force-wielding elites, but still very rare as a fraction of the  population.

You might say that these ideas don’t really get to the essence of the core appeal of Star Wars, which is more like stuff like starfighter battles and lightsaber duels and such, but I’m not saying these themes would necessarily be debated in great detail to the exclusion of action and stuff. They just could be the reason for the lightsaber duels and starfighter battles and such. Consider: in Episode I, the pretext for a lot of the action was a dispute over tariffs. Stated baldly, I think that’s drier than anything I mentioned.

[hilkaro]

I've played through the DLC for TPoF countless times. Eventually, after some time, I unlocked an achievement I had no idea existed - called Real Simp. I completely forgot about it, but when I wanted to play the game again next time, alongside the memelord mode, another one called Simp Mode appeared. I turned it on, and OH MY GOD, IT COMPLETELY CHANGES THE GAMEPLAY! I don't know about other characters, but with Fox, everything is better.

At the beginning, of course, there's the auction where you beg the announcer to take you every time you have the chance. Then you wake up in a bunker, and that's when the real rollercoaster begins. From my experience, I can immediately say that Chat doesn't matter at all, only Fox's points matter. I'll give you a brief walkthrough in case you haven't unlocked it yet.

Warning: spoilers ahead!

You wake up in the bunker, it's dark, you're tied up. You make noise and catch Fox's attention. Nothing changes here, but your thought process is… significantly different. Someone is in front of me. I focus my gaze and see my favorite beastkin. He looks great, only he wears a mask covering his handsome facial features. Too bad, a great pity.

Fox asks how you feel and if you remember anything. You get several options, including a new one to click on: I meant your bedroom. This leads to a dialogue: You: (sigh), I don't want to be rude, I really appreciate that you fulfilled my request and took me, but I meant your bedroom more than this musty basement. He is silent for a moment, looking at you, then bursts into laughter.

It's the standard text about not worrying because you made the choice to be his co- star. You look around, see cameras, he says no one has ever asked to go with him before. Then you notice the lingerie he chose for you, praise it, and he's happy, standard. For a while, nothing changes; you choose the option to Stay quiet, then Put it back. Fox turns to the cameras and talks to Chat.

This wasn't what I expected from our first night. I'm a little disappointed, you think bitterly.

Let's move on to the foot and there's a slight difference here. Fox: She's gotten nice and wet… What do you think Chat? You (smiling weakly): I'm nice and wet, not only there But Fox rudely interrupts you by sticking his finger into your wound.

Still nothing changes. When you get a choice, you click on Beg him to stop. He cuts you with a knife until you bleed, you cry, standard. At WoundFucker's request, Fox starts choking you, but before you choose the Please, I don't want to die option. He chokes you with a cable until you pass out, then he smashes your face on the concrete, great.

The next game is a gun blowjob and here you have to click Obey confidently, because this time Fox forgot to do the poll. So you do your thing, looking deep into his eyes, he touches himself , nice time. Everyone is impressed by your skills, so you survive, but it's not over yet, because the icing on the cake awaits you. AND THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. Once Fox holds your poor eyelids, a new narrative emerges. I know well what will happen next…. And you can select the Open Mouth option, but it only lasts for a few seconds, so you have to be quick. Once you manage to click it, this appears: I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. He must be surprised by my reaction, because the grip of his claws on my head weakens and I manage to squeeze my eyes shut at the last moment, just before his cum lands all over my face and hair. But not in DAMN EYE! Fox is a bit surprised, ends the stream and you pass out from blood loss.

You wake up in a cell. He speaks to you with ordinary words. You look around and express the hope that now that you've performed so well, Fox will finally take you to his home. He just laughs and states that you now work for him. He's about to leave when you stop him and choose the option: Please stay, I don't want to be alone. Fox tilts his head, with a half-smile, remains silent for a moment, and exits without a word.

Then, you sit in the cell and contemplate. All narratives about the eye are, of course, omitted. You worry that perhaps you didn't try hard enough, considering Ren didn't want to take you home. Since you care so much about him, you decide to give it your all the next time you see each other.

Finally, they come to you. You dress up in a sexy mesh outfit and decide firmly that you'll survive this stream too. When given the option, you choose: Please go easy on me, and Fox likes it. He's about to start when someone asks: What happened to her? And Fox tells and shows everything. Fortunately, your eye is intact.

You move on to the soldering game, and when he asks you, you confidently reply that it's a soldering gun. You're not stupid, duh. Fox burns a heart on your back, and when he shows it on the camera, you comment aloud: You: Wow, it looks great, much better than a tattoo. Fox: I'm glad I fit into your tastes, darling.

Then you let him set up your arm without any protests, standard.

And the sex scene. Not much changes here except when Ren wants to put a tentacle dildo in your mouth, you have a time-limited chance to click: Open your mouth. Probably just to score points with Fox. Of course, while you're at it, you're pushing against him with all your might, in fact, you've been dreaming about him fucking you. It's a bit shame to be in front of the camera and with that collar with needles, but you don't complain, you take what they give you.

After everything, perhaps the biggest change. Because there's no longer an eye operation. Instead, there's a game with a nail gun for questions and answers. The first question is, of course, about Fox's name, and here, a window appears WHERE YOU CAN TYPE YOUR OWN ANSWER! There's no other option; you type REN HANA, all in capital letters, because you're so excited to finally let it out at this moment. He looks at you carefully, averts his gaze, and… shoots!! Shocking. Here, I think there may be several reasons for doing so. Firstly, theoretically,you don't have the right to know his name as MC, and maybe it unsettled him, put him on high alert or something. Or it could be an option that it was a warning shot. Ren didn't want to reveal his identity to Chat. Generally, the matter is a bit strange because if you answer all the questions correctly, he shoots a nail into the middle of our forehead, killing you. Okay. Some sample questions: What is today's date?, Whose father is my most loyal patron? And the question about the last letter of the alphabet, but it's time-limited. If you answer this incorrectly, Fox mocks you. After this wonderful game, you are forced to remove the nail from your body, which is quite painful but concludes the second show. You lose consciousness.

You have various dreams, when a touch wakes you up. Fox strokes your head. The beginning of the conversation is the same, there are no texts about the eye prosthesis because you have that eye. You ask: Why are you helping me? He explains that Chat loves you, but it is picky, and you may not survive for long. You relax and gaze at him, and he points out that it's not very polite. You ask, Who did this to you? He responds in the usual way. But your reaction is different. You: Are you sure? Fox: About what? You: That if it weren't for that person, you would be in exactly the same place doing exactly the same thing as now? Fox measures you with a probing look from half-closed lids and says it's time for him. Then you have the option to click: Hug him. You do it, and he looks at you surprised. You ask him not to leave yet because you don't want to be alone. He also lightly hugs you and strokes your head. After some time, you drift away.

And the ending. THE BEST.

You wake up in a bright room. Apparently, someone's bedroom. You feel an electric collar around your neck. Fox appears, wrapped only in a towel, wet hair, bangs falling on his forehead. He pins you to the wall, his eyes glowing, and says: I decided to keep you for myself. You're mine.

[sengardet]

Poll Reward: Assassin Encounter (part 1)

Continued from:

Terra freed a hand from the woman’s neck to send fingernails trailing down her captive body. She traced the curves of her breasts, over her jumpy heart, and down the dip of her stomach, before sliding between her thighs. The woman let out a soft moan as Terra's fingers mingled within her slick arousal.

She couldn’t help but sit there reveling in the power she held over this deadly assassin turned pathetic whimpering creature that begged to be dominated. Terra was growing attached and that feeling made her revolt.

Terra squeezed tighter around that delicate throat, feeling the captive's pulse race beneath her dark fingers before shunting it off completely. Yet only then did this woman’s full depravity reveal itself. The woman’s thighs clamped around Terra's hand in a desperate, needy embrace. inner walls fluttered around her digits as arousal overflowed into orgasm.

Terra let out a defeated sigh, softening her grip to let her enjoy herself. Watching this fragile creature come undone was intoxicating, but Terra knew such things were short lived in this line of work.

Terra loomed over the tied-up woman, her heart racing with a mixture of adrenaline and an unfamiliar emotion she couldn't quite place. She supposed it was best to put a bullet through the woman’s heart before the euphoria settled down. Maybe then she would see this mysterious creature’s face.

"Thank you, my love," the bound woman said softly beneath the pillow, surprising Terra with sudden affection.

Terra laughed. "Is that all it takes, the first chick to choke you and we’re hitched?"

The woman's voice grew somber. "I bit the cyanide pill. You don't have to waste a bullet, but you can if you like the feeling. Otherwise… I'd like you to hold me. My name is Sophie."

Terra's heart skipped a beat, her mind reeling at the revelation. Frustration and panic surged through her as she tried to make sense of why she felt betrayed.

"Dumbass," Terra snapped "You think I wouldn't have a cyanide poison kit after all I've been through?"

She quickly got up and rushed to retrieve the kit.

"Wait, what? You were going to kill me anyway, weren't you?" Sophie asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion.

"You don't get to decide when or how you die, I do!” Terra yelled through the house.

Terra burst into the bedroom, and there… Sophie lay motionless on the bed, not a shiver of a response. Terra rushed over and dragged the pale woman's limp body onto the floor. Her first sight of the woman's face. Sophie's head lolled to the side, revealing blue vacant eyes staring into nothing.

Terra hung the IV bag on the bedpost. Sophie’s pallid skin bared the delicate blue veins going down her arm, Terra picked one and plunged the needle in.

Once ready, she straddled Sophie's limp body and placed her hands on the woman's pale chest. She pushed hard and fast, commanding Sophie’s heart with unrelenting force. Sophie’s limp body jerked with each compression, her arms twitching and rubbery at her sides. held together at the wrists behind her.

Terra could feel Sophie's ribs bending and flexing beneath her touch as she pumped relentlessly. The sensation was oddly exhilarating, as if entrapping the woman yet again, pulling her back from her pitiful attempt at escape. Terra's own pulse raced as she worked to pull her back and punish her.

"You don't get to decide when it ends. Not after I gave you that little sendoff, bitch." Terra muttered in frustration.

Terra's mind flashed to their earlier encounter; Sophie's arousal still wet on her fingers. The memory sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through her veins. Her compressions intensified, driven by a primal need to maintain control.

Looking up, Terra saw that the bag was half-empty. Now was a good time to see if this pretty little thing could use oxygen.

Leaning down, Terra sealed her lips over Sophie's slack mouth and exhaled forcefully. Sophie's chest filled like a balloon and fell when Terra let go. Terra pulled back, resuming the furious rhythm of her compressions. Seconds stretched into minutes as she labored over Sophie's inert form, aware of every nuance and contour of the body beneath her...waiting for any flicker of life to reward her efforts. She would not be denied.

The blonde woman's eyes squinted shut, a slight frown crossing her pale lips.

"There we go," Terra said.

Sophie let out a faint moan in response. Relief surged through Terra. The woman was still responsive, if only barely. Terra tapped Sophie's cool cheeks, then quickly dismounted Sophie's limp form and rushed to grab the stethoscope from atop her dresser.

Placing the ends in her ears, Terra pressed the bell to Sophie's bare chest. She held her breath and listened. There it was - the soft, steady thump of Sophie's heartbeat, growing stronger with each passing second.

As Sophie began taking slow, shallow breaths, Terra allowed herself a triumphant grin. She had done it - thwarted the stubborn assassin's desperate escape into death's waiting arms. Terra savored the thought as she gazed down at Sophie's vulnerable form, color slowly returning to her porcelain skin.

"Please..." Sophie didn't know what she was begging for anymore.

Terra's full lips curved in a wicked smile. In one fluid motion, she slid her body up to straddle Sophie's heaving chest. Sophie gasped as Terra's weight pressed down, constricting her lungs.

"Shhh, it’s time for you to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." Terra said, covering Sophie's mouth and nose with a slender dark hand, sealing off her airways. She ground her hips slowly, sensually, feeling Sophie's rib cage flex and strain beneath her as she struggled for breath, her heart slamming in Terra’s ears as it strained beneath her.

Sophie's blue eyes widened in panic, her pale skin flushing pink as she thrashed weakly. Her oxygen-starved lungs burned, screaming for air that would not come. Terra held her fast, dark thighs clenching tight around her ribcage, one hand still clamped over her face. She rocked her hips in a steady rhythm, pressing Sophie's chest down with each undulation, forcing more precious air from her lungs.

She could feel Sophie's squished and starved heart pounding frantically against her most intimate places, the terrified muscle's vigorous thudding reverberating through her core before winding down in defeat.

The light faded from those defiant blue eyes, and Terra removed her hand allowing a hard intake of breath. She got up, and slapped the woman’s chest gently. A slow and steady little heartbeat filled her ears, one that assured her that her toy was still working...

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: My Blood (super sons week day five)

Summary:

Damian reflects on the use of the nickname "dami" and jon tells him abt some new words he learned in arabic.

also known as some angsty shit that started out rlly sweet but ended with a possible dead damian??

The first time that Jon had called Damian “Dami”, he had instantly recoiled, with a stubborn response of “Don’t call me that.” 

After all, how could he know what it meant to him?

Nevertheless, he persisted. His brothers had taken to calling him what they assumed was only a shortened version of his name, as well as his father on rare occasions.

After a particularly hard battle, Jon had said it with such reverence, he nearly believed him when he did, although he was quick to snap back at him. 

A few similar altercations like that, and Jon had stopped, changing it to various other little nicknames, somehow only ringing it out in the most dire of situations, when emotions ran high.

It sent a pang to Damian’s heart, because although he wouldn't admit it, he missed hearing the word from his lips.

And if he were to die, that would be the last thing he wanted to hear.

“NO! No, Damian, stay with me. Stay with me, bud, just a little longer..” Jon’s face was streaked with tears, and Damian reached a bloodstained hand from where he was laying, his head on Jon's lap.

“Isn’t it funny?” He said suddenly, the world going dizzy.

The sky behind Jon was an orange-purple hue, the battlefield littered with bodies and metal pieces, and battered heroes stubling together, trying to find each other.

“What’s funny, D?” 

“You all call me Dami. and here I am, covered in my blood. ”

“Damian, Damian, please don’t-” Jon choked out, looking anywhere but Damian’s stomach, where an alien spear had pierced through the kevlar of his suit.

His hand cupped Jon’s face, bringing him back towards him. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me. It’s okay. You can let go. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

A heartbroken laugh sounded from the younger boy as he looked down at him, brushing the matted hair from his emerald eyes.

How he would miss them..

“Oh, Dami…”

“I’ll be okay, Jon. You know why? Because I'll have you with me wherever I go.” He gave a smile, the broken domino on his face sliding down.

Jon held him, desperately praying for a miracle, for at least a Bat to show up to see Damian should the worst happen.

His eyes grew heavy, and he let a smile grace his lips. “You know to tell them I love them, right?”

“Dami, stop, you're not going to die, you’re not!”

The younger boy pleaded with him, the pain in his face something that hurt Damian more than the gaping hole in his stomach.

“Call it a nap, then. Will you talk to me? I want to see you smile.”

A wobbly grin spread across his features, and his hand ran through the bleeding boy’s hair as he began to talk.

“I was so confused, why you were always so mad when I called you Dami, why you always told me to stop. I remembered you did speak arabic a lot, and so i looked it up. I found how much it must have meant to you, so I switched it up. I used it only when I wanted you to know I meant it. 

“You are my blood, my heart, my soul. You’re a part of me, a teammate, my partner. I found a few more terms like that. Hayati was my favorite. That describes who you are to me, Dami. You’re my life, my light…my whole world. I love you so much/”

His eyes shut, and the world went dark, He floated off in his mind, to wherever this would take him, with the reminisce of the words Jon had left him with. 

I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. My life.

Hayati.

A/N:

DAMIAN NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

okay, you choose, did he die or was he saved????? personally i would have gone with death lmao yes i did cry a lil writing this thats how u know its good lol

i may be persuaded to put up a poll on who wants him to die and who wants him to live and write a sequel on whichever is most popular O.o

if u read it and feel the need to screm at me for doing this, go ahead id love to c it lmao

for @super-sons-week-2023

[slvt4conniee]

One More Time For Me?•Vinsmoke Sanji

contains: kitchen sex(AAAAAHHH), choking, fingering, dom!sanji, sub!reader, black reader.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

as you were walking in towards your apartment from work, you saw your lover sanji in his apron preparing dinner for you.

his nice toned back was towards you while he has on long patched pants, the colors red and black on it. You closed the door behind you, locking it for safety reasons.

he heard the door and looked behind himself, a smile forming on his face.

“hey baby, how was work?” he says, flipping over the burger patty in the pan.

you returned back the smile, taking your shoes off by the door heading towards him.

“work was great as always, very tiring though,” you responded over his shoulder. your hands around his waist.

“stay awake please. i need you to eat something before you doze off to sleep.”

you squeezed his waist tightly.

“i know i said work was tiring… but i never said i was tired,”

sanji turned the stove off, giving the burger patty time to cool.

“what are you intending here?” he questions, turning around. your hands now on his chest and his hands now around your waist; his right hand going towards your ass ever so sneakily.

“i don’t know, you tell me?” your head tilted in a bratty manner. sanji caught on quickly, one of his eyebrows lifting up faster than his hand went towards your throat. you gasped with a smile forming after.

“i know i said you need to eat food before you doze off. but you’ll be alright for a few hours right?” he added pressure around your throat making you let out a breathy whimper.

“i’ll be alright,” you responded and within that he’s already tonguing you down. his lips, so soft it made you melt. you stumbled back, making him stumble forward.

your back was now against the kitchen counter. sanji put his hand under your thighs to put you on top of the counter. his mouth unlatched from yours and went towards your neck, leaving a few marks on your neck.

while he was at your neck you undid his apron and he undid your top. your bra being exposed, your harden nipples being exposed through the thin fabric. his fingers flicking against them.

you let out a soft moan, your body twitched. he pulled your skirt down exposing your clothed pussy, his fingers trailing up and down your sides making you shiver.

“sanji please,” you whined, placing your hands on his face pulling him in for a kiss.

he kisses you back, his hand trailing down to your clothed cunt. “whatever you want beautiful,”

you push yourself forward, your ass hanging off the kitchen counter while sanji took off your underwear. his tongue licking up and down your clit, hands gripping on your ass to hold you up.

you threw your head back, your mouth slightly opened when his tongue swiped over your sweet spot. your hands wrapped up in his golden hair as you grind up against his face.

“sa–nji fuck” moans escaped your lips. he looked up at you, smiling in the process of him eating you out. he gripped your ass tighter, his left hand smacking your ass made you jump.

sanji kept sucking at that one spot he knows that makes you orgasm. putting pressure on it with his tongue, he felt your body shake. your body now grinding again this face uncontrollably, your hands gripping his head tighter making him groan.

“sanji—sanji, im gonna cum,” you repeated. your body shaking violently as you let out a high pitched moan, the sound echoing through your walls.

sanji still tonguing you down, letting your orgasm die down. he rose his head up towards you, kissing you deeply with his tongue letting you really get a taste of yourself, he sneakily slid his fingers inside your pussy making you gasp mid kiss.

“you can cum one more time for me, right princess?”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

a/n: DO NOT MIND THE POLL- IDK HOW TO ERASE THIS SHIT🥲 also not ~proof-read~

[accidentalkilljoys]

Pill-taking poll followup

#is this outrage bait #are we having a 'it never occurred to me someone would take 12 pills in one gulp because I can't do that' moment #or a 'I'm perfectly aware people take 10+ pills at once I just want attention and I don't care how I get it' moment

It’s not outrage bait, I swear! It honestly did not occur to me that, faced with a handful of small things of various sizes, shapes, and colors, tumblr users would NOT immediately sort them. (I personally take five in the morning, which I put in a little pile next to my cereal bowl, and then sneak them into my mouth between bites, largest first, like I’m tricking a dog.) 

I was not expecting over 50,000 responses to this poll. I have fewer than 100 followers, and that’s including the pornbots. But the notes are fascinating to read! 

“All at once,” or as one person called it, “the cursed jello shot,” was by far the most popular response, despite my forgetting to put it as a poll option. [The following quotes are all by different people.] 

Didn't realize there were other methods besides chaos #SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS #i slam them all back at once to take advantage of my powerful throat #i take pills with the same energy ppl in movies put their broken bone back in place #I will just shove them all in my mouth at the same time and hope I don’t die #<- YOU GOTTA SHOT GUN THEM BACK LIKE A CHEEP BEER #those mfs get gulped as a team #Genuinely I just chuck them all at once down my throat hole #i take my pills like a fucking whale shark ok!? #i gobble them up all at once like im a starving horse eating delicious gruel from the palm of a cowboy's (my own) hand. #all at once and I look like an owl eating a rat I unhinge my jaw, stuff them all in my mouth at once, then slam a big glass of water #all at once bby #all in one go baby #ALL AT ONCE BAYBE #ALL AT ONCE BABEY #Three at once baybee i am unstoppable #all at once babeeee

(There were also some people who were very judgy about people who can’t do the cursed jello shot, whose thoughts I am choosing not to reproduce here.) 

I am amazed at how many pills you all are taking at once. 

YES I usual to take 7 pills at once just to save time like a fucking animal #all at once #even if I have like 8 and they're huge #i take 9 pills at once about twice a day I take about 10 pills. I take them all at once. #i take 11 in the morning all at once including two large ones #i take 12 pills every morning and 7 at night and my family hates it but i just knock em back #i take them all at once #granted i take like 13 pills at once every night sometimes more #i take 15 pills every morning and i just swallow them all at once #i learned to take all 17 at once #i can swallow upwards of twenty pills at a time #i can easily swallow like 20-30 pills at a time

There were also a couple of notes from people who USED TO do the cursed jello shot but don’t anymore because they choked or, in one case, misfired and spent the day with a Claritin in their cleavage. 

Other things that didn’t occur to me: pills that dissolve under your tongue; people who use feeding tubes; the options of “in order from least tasty to most tasty;” random order; texture order; order in which they were prescribed; “whatever I grab first;” “all at once except the fish oil which is unreasonably large;’ order of how easy it is to swallow; in order of buoyancy because some pills float; by shape; “I only take one pill at once;” “top to bottom of my body so head pills first birth control last.” 

#i dont take any pills reglarly but secret 5th option had me think of someone fucking plinko-ing their pills

In conclusion: I’m glad we’re all doing what we need to do to survive and thrive. I’ll be over here with my cereal bowl. Thank you for participating in the poll. 

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Fic: IVF Successes, Addendum to the First (Poll Results 3rd)

You thought you got away with only a Part 1??? With one of MY favorite categories?????? THINK AGAIN!

This list was inspired by this poll, sharing 3rd place with post-Tithonus Mother Hen Mulder.

**Note**: Will ghost edit later.

Loose chronological order below~

eponine119's

Journey

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

""There was more she wanted to tell him. He could see it in her eyes. "Okay," he said gently, encouraging her to go on, watching her eyes, caressing her fingers with his, reminding himself that this wasn't about him, or his feelings. It was her, it was all about her, and he would do anything he had to in order to take care of her.

A strange look twisted her face suddenly - a mixture of fear and tears straining not to fall. His heart leapt into his throat and he expected her nose to begin to bleed again. The episodes had become more frequent over the last few weeks, and that instant of choking panic was one he'd grown to recognize. But this time, it was words she was struggling with. "The doctors say I've got a year. Give or take. And they said that I can do this."

She didn't look at him as she plunged ahead. "I didn't talk to them about your theory. I'm a doctor, I'm willing to take on that risk. But I need to know there's someone who will raise my child if it doesn't work. If I....die.""

S4 Mulder and TLG frantically look for a cure for Scully's cancer, finding tenuous links to various IVF clinics and the late MUFON women. He pitches IVF treatments to Scully, theorizing that the hormones would be enough to help. He supports her through her hesitation with his own eagerness; and the two of them puzzle their way through their fears while taking brutally honest steps to a normal, healthy relationship and new family.

@iwtbscully/@jewish-mulder/@anders-hawke/BananaChef‘s

The In-Between - Chapter 16

""Mulder takes a deep breath. “If you could have children, would you?” He meets her blue eyes.

“What?” She sits up slightly in the bed. “Mulder...”

“Please,” he says, and something in his voice must convince her to answer with a nod. Mulder nearly collapses inward with the weight of his emotions.""

Redux II Scully is told about her ova. She recovers; and Maggie proudly hangs a pic of their IVF child to celebrate their success.

Branched

""I want you to be the father of my kids.”

Mulder gazes at her like a lost puppy until she reaches out to wipe away a tear trailing along his cheek. “Me?”

She nods and cups his cheeks. “You.”

He nods with her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Okay.""

Scully found out about her infertility in S2, leading her her even more depressed outlook during her cancer. Mulder fesses up about her ova; and by the time she's in remission, they are already dating and making plans. It's a bumpy road after they save Emily and retire from the X-Files; but they get their miracle, too, in the end.

@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s

All in a Family

""I hate this,” Scully informs him, sitting back down next to him on the plane; she’s just returned from the bathroom, where he assumes, based on the expression on her face when she leapt up from her seat, she threw up. “I never got sick on planes before. Never in my life.”

“It’s the first trimester,” Mulder says. “It should stop by late February.” He realizes he doesn’t sound very comforting.""

Post Redux II Mulder tells Scully about her ova when she returns home. She immediately launches into IVF attempts. It's successful... and then she finds Emily. Maggie is shocked by their whirlwind life events when asked to witness their courthouse ceremony.

Humphreywrites's Sundries in the X-Files Universe

""They implanted four embryos and two took. Given my age in relation to this pregnancy and the fertility drugs... it just happened.” Multiples in IVF were common, she just hadn’t thought it would happen to her.

Now, he looks like he’s about to pass out. “Two?”

“They’re fine. Very strong heartbeats,” she added, as he continued to stare at her.

“You’re okay?”

She’s contemplating, bites her lip. “I’m processing,” she answers honestly.""

Early S6 Scully's IVF round is successful-- so successful she is expecting twins. Diana, however, keeps pulling Mulder away from their growing family; and it's not until a near fatal incident that gives him the guts to permanently glues himself to their sides.

Malibusunset's 40 Weeks

""After that, things escalate a little and Scully glances his way often, checking his face for evidence of visual trauma.

When the screaming starts, he presses his fingers into Scully’s thigh and she pats his hand reassuringly. His eyes are glued to the screen. It’s like a horrible accident he can’t turn away from. There’s more shrieking, bodily fluids, and carnage than The Exorcist, Halloween, and all the Scream movies combined.....

He looks at her with terror and doom in his eyes. She seems to read his mind and mouths, “it’s okay.”

It is not okay. Nothing about this process is okay.  There has to be another way to get a healthy baby out of this situation.

...Scully wants to stop for milkshakes on the way home. How can she possibly eat something? He pulls into a McDonalds, throws it in park, and leans his head against the steering wheel.""  

The IVF is successful; but for every step forward, Mulder seems to find another step back. Finally, he extracts Scully's insecurity of his commitment and reassures her of his intentions.

Thousand_Sweet_Kisses's Baby... Maybe?

""Are we telling you mother about us, and the IVF today?” Mulder asked when she came back into the room and tied her shoes.

“We can tell her about anything you want,” she smiled at him. “I personally would love to tell her that you and I have finally decided that we wanted a deeper relationship, though I would like to leave the IVF out if at all possible, she hasn’t been too comfortable with test tube babies.""

Mulder and Scully are already dating; and they join Maggie for dinner after the first embryo transplant. 

jeri's (mulderscreek) Ersatz Matriarch (mulderscreek)

""Finally, Beth broke the silence. "I have good news and bad news." Mulder and Scully turned to look at her, not saying a word. "The good news is, you'll still be parents. The bad news is one died."

Scully's motionless tears finally fell. "It was more than one?"

Beth nodded. "Triplets. The other two were fine, though. They didn't seem to be harmed a bit."

They were quiet, then Mulder asked, "Girl or boy?"

"The girl died. The other two are boys. They're perfectly healthy, I made sure of that. Please remember, Marian had a miscarriage about a year ago. She just may be one of those people who that happens to."

Scully nodded. ..."Then why weren't the other two infected?"

"Luck? I doubt we'll know the answer to that question. But I'll request the autopsy.""

S6 Mulder and Scully are dating; but she aches for the daughter that she lost. Mulder finally tells her about the ova; and the two of them work through his indecision before eventually agreeing and outreaching to a surrogate under pseudonyms. The mytharc, as always, tries to tamper with their happiness; but TLG, Skinner, Maggie, and even Bill Scully give them unflinching support.

@alienbaby-babymama/ABBM515‘s Potential

""Scully looks up at him, willing him to continue with encouragement.

“While I’d love nothing but to…” he gestures between their bodies in some weird man-sign language. “I like the pace we’re going. If it happens this weekend, then it happens. If not, I’m still gonna call you when we get back to D.C.""

Post Closure Mulder and Scully seek a reprieve at Martha's Vineyard; and she convinces him to lease it and use the rent to pay for IVF. They are, of course, successful.

Marguerite's (Ao3) How Glory Goes

""He didn't know." For a horrible, guilty second I'm afraid that I asked my question out loud, but when I look at Scully I can see that she's just telling me something I need to understand. "I didn't know, myself. I felt sick. I thought it was a cold, or stress. It wasn't until afterward..."

"He would never have left if he'd known." I'm telling her this because I saw how hurt she was when Monica put out her cult theory. "He'd never've left you."

"I know." She covers her mouth with her hands, shaking, trying not to cry..... We didn't think it worked, the in vitro, but the doctor was wrong.... He did it for me, he went in there and signed the papers and...he...""

Post TINH Scully ruminates on her IVF baby girl, now fatherless, while accepting Skinner's comfort and barely registering Doggett's own sense of failing his son yet again.

@dashakay​‘s (Ao3, Gossamer)

Fabric of Our Lives

""Our lives are much quieter now. When it all ended, after we found out the truth and lived to tell the tale, I worried that it would be the end of Mulder and me....

But Mulder, his quest for the truth was all he had, his reason for breathing. It was everything to him, all he knew.

A few days after it all ended, I came home to find him sitting at my kitchen table. His back was hunched over; his head in his hands. Mulder was crying, convulsive sobs wracking his entire body. I put my hand on his shoulder and he looked up at me, his eyes shiny with tears.

He gripped my hand.

"Are you all right?" I asked. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

He nodded. "I'm just saying goodbye.""

Part 1-- Scully is on bed rest with placenta previa; and, as she quilts to keep her mind occupied, she ruminates on her husband, Mulder, and his unshakeable ability to keep her hopes afloat: even when they transition to a normal life, even after they mortgaged the house to afford another round of IVF, even now with her Emily fears.

Bound Together With Invisible Cord

""It truly hits me then. Scully is a mother now, and I am a father. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Scully gives a sleepy smile of assent. The nurse hands over the pink bundle to her and she takes her daughter into her arms with a grace that can only be inborn.

"Hello Anna," she says, her voice cracking, "Do you know how long I waited for you?"

I am undone.""

Husband Mulder waits for Scully to wake, doing his own ruminations on his wife's struggles to achieve their daughter. 

bugs's Even Doves Have Pride 02 (PG Version)

""Scully, did I drop the baby?" I've failed already and I've only been a father for--how long had I been out?

She's calm. "No, Mulder. How's your head?"

For once, I won't accept her assurance. "Scully, where's the baby?"

"In the nursery for now." She lifts herself carefully from her wheelchair.

"Should you be up?" I fuss as I watch her tentatively take the few steps to my bed. I try to rise to help her, but my whirling vision forces me back into the pillow. I must have a concussion-- great.

As she settles herself on the edge of my bed and slowly swings her legs up beside me, she gives me her sneaky, bad-girl glance from under the sheet of her hair. "No. But I want to make sure you're okay."

I pull her close to me and we both groan in pain as our battered bodies come in contact, but neither of us shifts away.""

Mulder and Scully are married; and their IVF success sends him into compounding anxiety bolstered by unrealistic expectations of himself. This culminates during Scully's C-section when he passes out; but, luckily, it's all swept aside when their daughter turns out to be a daddy's girl.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[pyrothecary]

They weren't gonna kill Ethan for sure. Bryce as well as the second most popular LI. Jackie is the only female LI so that left Rafael to be the sacrificial lamb.

And the only reason they didn't go through with that was the script got leaked at the height of BLM protests and everyone protested that it was damn in poor taste to kill the only black LI in OPH, in a poisonous gas attack to boot.

So the attack was rewritten with the random security guard and Danny taking Rafael's place, but it was clear from Rafael's absence and the start of the story with MC at the funeral that he was the one supposed to die originally.

Man, fandom was. a. MESS. Everyone arguing on whether it was good Rafael had survived because the story suffered after the rewrites, whether PB was being racist in their decision etc. Polls were made on this subject. Everyone yelling and angry. People questioning the decision made to KILL Rafael in the first place because why not make it a close call from the start? Him dumping MC without a canon reason given already left a bad taste in people's mouths, and we never got an answer to that so it could have been a good opportunity for them to talk.

Anyway, Rafael survived and that's all that matters to me. The rest can choke.

Also, uh, I don't want to influence you but, uh, don't have much expectations out of OPH 3. It's, um, not very good. Had an interesting premise but didn't live up to it whatsoever. All non-Ethan LIs and non-LIs suffered from bad plotlines and OOC— actually even ETHAN got fucked over. It's a very frustrating book so please do your best to get into it calm.

holy fucking shit what a mess 😭😭😭 but yes i'm just glad rafael's alive and well!!!!!!

also anon PLEASE SAY SIKE. i was hoping book 3 would heal me from the shitshow that was the book 2 rafael romance. PLEASE I CAN'T TAKE ANOTHER L

[theealluringstoryteller]

Welcome to the what if series! Something I’m trying out! I also believe @themonotonysyndrome is also doing! Where we take scenarios that aren’t in the storyline of the series ‘Arranged Marriage Series’ and write ‘What if!’ If you saw my poll and voted then you know that thee scenario ‘What if the servant didn’t give the baroness a choice and took her back to the Empire’ if you still want to vote on something you can scroll through my page and fine the poll on what type of content you want to see in chapter three of my fanfic ‘Against the world around us’

@neptune-cinths

PART 2

Castin sat in front of cell glaring down at the rebels who returned his look. His anger and impatience made him more aggressive. Time was of the essence and it seemed like everyone around was wasting his time, playing in his face. It’s been about two days since the rebels took Omorose. Two days since Castin recovered from neglecting himself and he wasn’t going to allow himself to recover any longer, he couldn’t.

“I get it! I’m a degenerate, rake, low life, dross that disgust you all but- I am this close to slicing your throats! Where exactly are they taking her?”

“Threats…Will get you no where…” the rebel Castin ruthlessy beat weakly trailed.

“Threats?” Castin question pulling out a knife pointing it menacingly through the cell bars.

“I don’t make threats.” Castin huffed. His thumb rubbing along the handle as he tried to calm himself a bit.

“Promises are meant to be broken.” The rebel said trying to piss Castin off.

“I’m not making a promise! I’m stating how I feel. I feel like I’m this,” Castin used his thumb and index finger to showcase just how close he was to snapping. “Close to opening this cell and slicing your neck! I’ve put up with enough Imperial bullshit but taking my wife crosses the line from what I’m willing to let go! Where are they taking her?”

“Imperial bullshit? You’re married to an Imperial! Is that how you see her? Bullshit you have to deal with?”

Castin scoffed getting out of his seat that knocked backwards from the force of him getting up aggressively. He snatched the keys from the guards hook, unlocking the only thing that kept Castin away from the rebels.

The sounds of gargling echoed through stone walls of the prison as the rebel choked on his blood. Castin watched on his face showing no emotion as the man died at his hands. Soon the noises stop and Castin turned towards the other rebels that occupied the cell.

“I’m not afraid to repeat myself.” He gritted through his teeth holding up the bloodied weapon.

“Fort! They are taking her to a fort!”

Rhett walked along side Castin trying to speak reason into him. The rebellions are on going and the last thing Rhett needed was for his commander to abandon his duty. “We will get her back! After we put an end to theses rebellions-”

Castin stopped in his tracks done with Rhett trying to stop him. “No! They could hurt her or worse Rhett! She isn’t safe-”

“She’s an imperial she’s safe among them-”

“Rhett please! You’ve seen what they have done during the war! They are ruthless-”

“They won’t kill one of their own.”

“Okay but what will they do to the wife of an Intacian Commander?” Castin questioned crossing his arms over his broad chest. His furious emotions diminished into sadness. “They already took my mother Rhett! And now you’re allowing them to take the only thing in this world that matters to me-”

“She’s the only thing that matters to you?” Rhett asked slightly hurt at the news.

“I would die for her, I would kill for her, Rhett…I need her.”

“And you’ll get her back! After we-”

“No! I’m not putting anything or anyone above Omorose. She’s my only Priority.”

Omorose sat in her room that the rebels assigned to her. She’s been there drowning in her though and anxiety silently suffering. Could this be the start of a new war? Everything she’s done and sacrificed all wasted at that impending possibility. She thought peace was finally here but was she wrong. Could she loose everything she’s ever wanted? Could she loose Castin?

Their last moments together spent on an argument. Was that the last time she was ever going to see him? The thought made her heart hurt.

She loved him! She really did. Though they had their ups and downs and many things to work through she knew he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

A knock on the door startled Omorose out of her thoughts. “Lunch will be served soon. Will you be joining us or should I bring your food to your room.”

Ellis asked walking into the room with a fresh pile of clothes in his arms.

Quickly Omorose dried her eyes and stood up looking on as Ellis set out the clothes on her bed.

“I’ll join…”

“Perfect many have been waiting to see you.”

Omorose was curious. Curious to know who else was apart of the Rebellion. Curious to know who saw the new kingdom as its enemy. Who was no longer her friend and ally. Thought she knew curiosity kills the cat the satisfaction of knowing just who she couldn’t trust is sweetest thing the rebels could ever give her.

So she bathed and got dressed making herself presentable before making her way towards the dinning hall just to see just who were all rebels.

“Oh my dear Baroness! We heard if your arrival and couldn’t wait to see you!” The countess if the coastal bay positively hummed walking towards Omorose with a bright smile. “We are so glad to see you away from your captors! We are truly sorry none of us intervened when that bastard king married you off to that Intacian Gorilla.” The Duke of the south coast chimed in offering a glass of wine.

“You didn’t have to-” Omorose attempted to explain her marriage but was cut off swiftly as the Duke took her hand and placed the glass in it. “Nonsense! Your parents would have a heart attack if they were here.”

“A woman from your social class shouldn’t be married to such a degenerate rake.”

“It’s very low to insult someone’s spouse especially in front of them.” Omorose spoke up in defense.

“Oh please Omorose! You’ve been given a shitty deal by the Intacians and now that you’re back in the coastal Empire you’ll get your life back! Marry someone who has actual worth.”

“I love my husband.”

“Ellis told us about your… syndrome.” The Dutchess shameful whispered the last part taking Omorose’s unoccupied hand in hers. Stroking her aged thumb across the youthful skin on the back of Omorose’s hand.

Omorose raised an eyebrow in question. “Syndrome?”

“Stockholm! He must’ve done a number on you!”

“A number on me?” Omorose gasped not knowing why they would say such a thing. They were so asinine before but now! They took it to a whole new level.

“He has his faults but he isn’t mentally abusive.”

“Physically then?” The Duke asked leaning in closer.

“He would never!”

“We heard about you storming out of the room where you ‘decided’ to agree to marry him. Him putting his hands on Lord Reyes, allowing your servants into your bedroom while your indecent and vulnerable. Embarrassing you and dismissing your feelings in front of his soldiers.” The Duke went on placing a ‘comforting’ arm around Omorose. Lightly breathing in her scent.

“I dismissed the brutality and violence our country committed against them-”

“Brutality and violence? We only tried to make them civil!”

“Civil? Imperials savagely murdered them! Soldiers and the women and children!”

“The Empire kills those who poses a threat. They must’ve had a reason.”

The baroness scoffed. “Mass murder? Genocide?”

“Intacians are low lives who needed help getting out of their primitive ways! We were helping until they fought back.”

Omorose’s face morphed into disgust looking at the two as if they were the stupidest creatures who walked the earth.

After a long journey alone Castin finally made his way into the Empire.

Running on a day of sleep and one meal he used majority of his energy fighting against a group of rebels he came across. Killing all but one who tried to run away after noticing how weak the fight made Castin, but the Intacian warrior threw a blade that embedded its self into the rebels leg keeping him from going far. That line rebel was going to show Castin which fort the rebels were using.

The Intacian Commander knew that if he wanted to actually get to his wife he had to rest and eat unless he wanted to die out in the forest. After cleaning and dressing the rebel’s wound the two snuck into an ear Imperial town that was once an Intacian village that was taken over a hundred years ago.

As they ate in the dark corner of a small diner Castin couldn’t help but ask.

“Why?”

“Why what.” Grumbled the rebel

“Why are you apart of the rebellion? Do you not want peace?”

“Of course I do but, not with you low lives-”

“Low lives? You Imperials-”

“Are suffering under Intacian hands!”

Castin’s eyes soften a bit at the rebel’s claim

“What? What are you talking about?”

“The way Intacians treat those who had nothing to done with the war like shit! Intacians refuse to service us at their shops. We have to pay Intacian servants and warriors half of our wages just so they can go into town and buy what we need. Your men have threatened us- many of us have been assaulted!”

Appalled at what the rebel was saying not wanting to believe it. He knew if the disdain Intacians had but he never would’ve thought they would go so low.

“Why didn’t any of you say anything? I would’ve straighten them out!”

The rebel rolled his eyes pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. “Sure you would’ve.”

“I’m serious! If you guys didn’t feel comfortable with me you could’ve gone to Omorose-”

“And put her under more stress? Your king already turned her into his work mule! We didn’t want to add anymore stress on her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“We can both agree on that-”

“You don’t deserve her.”

Castin let out a sigh tired of hearing that and feeling like it was true.

Everything he wanted for himself and for his future lied with Omorose and imperials constantly reminded him how undeserving he was to it all. She was all he wanted in life and he would fight for her.

“It’s true…I don’t but I love her and will do anything to get her back.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“You love her but the whole Linger-”

“Was foolish! And happened before I fell in love her. We moved passed that.”

“Fine! Allowing Ellis into your shared room while The Baroness is in the bath…naked! No loving husband would even entertain the thought of such a thing.”

“He was barely looking at her.”

“He saw more than enough of her. Like the birth mark right above her-”

“Woah! You guys have discussions about my wife’s body?” Castin felt himself getting heated at the mere thought.

“We talk about your brutish behavior and how you enjoy showing the Baroness off as if she was a show pony.” The rebel states giving Castin a blank stare over castins words.

“I don’t-”

“You do! We have all seen it and we have all witness her smile fake and replace with a fake one to keep up appearances.”

After their meal they were back on the road towards the fort. It took another day to get there and Castin was growing eager to have Omorose back in his arms safe and sound.

“There’s no way you’ll be able to get in, get to the Baroness, and then get out.” The rebel spoke as they took cover behind the greenery close to the fort.

“I know… that’s why Rhett has been following us with an army.”

Suddenly Rhett appeared quickly coming to Castin’s side as the rest of the army hid behind tress and small hills.

“How long have they been-”

“I started to notice them after 3 days.”

“Brother I am truly sorry for allowing you to face this alone. After much thou-”

“Don’t worry about Rhett! You’re always there when you’re needed.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“We get them to attack and while they are distracted by battle I’ll sneak in and get Omorose”

Omorose sat in her room refusing to leave it and be amongst the fool headed nobles. Deep in her though and woes. Her room quite no longer “Baroness! We have to move. We’ll get you to someplace safe!” Ellis barged into her room quickly grabbing a hold of her arm and yanking her out of her seat that sat by the widow she was staring out off.

“Why?” She asked startled at by his sudden agitated state.

“Intacians are attacking!”

“Then let’s put an end to this.”

“Surrender?”

Omorose nodded “the endless violence needs to stop!”

Ellis grumbled pulling Omorose out of her room “Those Intacians really got in your head.”

Rhett lead the army into an attack as Castin used the battle as a detraction to sneak into the fort. Sneaking passed the fort walls and taking down anyone that he came across swiftly before entering the main quarters.

“An Intacian made his way passed the walls!” The Duke scrambled away passing by ascendants that stayed to defend the Imperial Nobles.

“Stop right there?” A fire ascendant ordered.

“I’m only here for my wife-”

“The Baroness? You’re the bull that got lucky?” The Duke laughed sarcastically.

“Excuse me- I’m not in the mood for any bullshit! Where is Omorose?”

Omorose ran quickly the hem of her dress in her hands as she kept telling herself not to look back. Ellis close behind adamant on getting her out of the fort.

The Baroness rounded the corner towards the common room she knew she had to pass to get to the vault she planned tricking Ellis in.

Her fast feet halted in the common room seeing a familiar face.

“Castin?”

“Sweetheart.”

“Of course he’s here!” Ellis spat hurrying into the room.

Castin tore his eyes away from his wife looking at Ellis like he was insane. “I get it! Intacians treated you guys like shit but, that doesn’t justify you taking my wife. Come on man that’s a low move.” Castin voiced unsheathing his sword itching to use it on the man that planted the worse feeling in him.

“Your king manipulating her into marrying you was a low move.”

“Manipulate? I know the beginning of our relationship was rocky but I gave her an option to leave…twice and she stayed.”

“Stockholm syndrome!” The Dutchess called out pointing at Castin.

“What?!” He called out sick of everyone in front of him except Omorose.

“They think I have Stockholm syndrome.” Omorose explained slowly inching her way towards Castin.

“It’s clear you do.”

“I don’t! I hated him at first but I truly do love him now-”

“Which is a clear sign of Stockholm syndrome.” The Dutchess stressed.

“I’ve been stuck with theses asinine people more than enough.” Omorose said tiredly, making her way to Castin side.

Castin lowered his sword pulling Omorose into a tight hug keeping his eyes on his enemies.

“Did they hurt you? Are you hurt?” He questioned pushing the sandy coils away from Omorose’s face to get a better look at her when he glanced down at her for a second. “I’m fine. I’m okay…” Omorose assured him laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arms the furthest they could go around him.

“You on the other hand. Castin it looks like you barely slept-”

“I couldn’t. Not when you weren’t-Sweetheart I was so teary when they overtook the palace and then wh-when the rebels took you…I-I just-”

“Shh I’m here, with you, safe-”

Ellis rolled his eyes at the sight before loudly encouraging the ascendants to “Attack him!”

“The Baroness!”

“He won’t allow her to get hurt! Trust me he has quick reflexes!”

“I would advise against it! I may be the king and emperor but I’m still a witch hunter when it calls for it.” Rhett’s voice boomed as warrior flooded into the building.

“It’s good to see you safe and well Baroness! You should’ve seen Castin though. Brink of death this one was!” Rhett said walking towards the couple as the warriors arrested the rebels.

“It’s good to see you too. How’s Aurelia?”

“She’ll be better when she learns your safe.”

“Thank the Goddess you are. I was loosing my mind.” Castin admitted placing a kiss on Omorose’s hairline before tucking her back into him.

Finally able to actually rest knowing she was safe.

Do you guys think Desmond Asmr modeled the Intacians after Vikings in some ways? I’m watching this series on Netflix and it’s low key reminding me of Castin and the other warriors.

Just a thought.

[throwaway-yandere]

(Nutjob anon)

Okay, I have yet to read the chapter, but based on the omake post...

...I NOMINATE FELIX AS THE NEXT UNDERBOSS-- *Wooden cane appears from one side of the stage and tugs her out of sight*

And dkrkir ANSY THAT ANIMATION??? SO COOL EJFKKTKRKE AND BY THE LOOKS OF IT, LEAVE ME ALONE FITS PERFECTLY. You out did yourself pal 😭 that was majestic.

See you later in the day when I'm done reading this novela! I want to suggest the secret secret ending were Hu Tao is involved. Only way to unlock her is killing one of the guys 😉 JWIDIFIGOFOD

MAJOR CHAPTER 3 SPOILERS

Oi PulcinELLA BRING HER BACK–

Trust me when (not if, when) one of the guys die Hu Tao will be there as "Wednesday's Garbage Pick Up" lmfaoooo. You know, there are routes that can only be unlocked with certain conditions, but you'll find that out soon by chapter 4 ehe. When you get to one character's route, the rest of the LIs are on thin ice. Hu Tao's business is booming–

Felix literally only has a few lines but him and Tartaglia are my "comfort characters". The former's just radiates tired dad energy while the latter's the sunshine bloodthirsty child in this fic. Those two (+ Dain) are the characters I don't want to be a love interest simply because they're the only light left in Capo!Reader's world. The rest are just going downhill while Tartaglia comically sobs about getting rejected–

And dhjJIwiaooa tHANK YOU!!! I had loads of fun with that animatic lmaoooo. My first thumbnail draft of that was wildly different compared to the final output (with Cyno being more prominent than the other characters due to poll related reasons, but that changed overnight–). Leave Me Alone is such a banger, I personally think that's the song that fits the first half of common route the most in Razzmatazz. It's been a long while since I listened to that album but after those asks I went "oh sht this is too perfect."

Honestly didn't expect Razzmatazz to fit Capo!Reader so well.

Nobody Likes The Opening band is kinda their vibes w/ Dain and Kaeya when they became immigrants, Modern Day Cain is the follow-up where they killed Rosaria ("then you conjured up a fiction, to get the pretty girls to listen"). Then they're the embodiment of Need You Here by chapter 2,

Sugar Pills is basically capo!reader's old addiction phase and Dottore's current one lmao,

Lights Go Down gives off Scaramouche's vibes, edit: @yostressedoutgirl mentioned it's also Capo's relationship with Alhaitham and she's so right ("Pardon me if I forget your name" "Is that any way to talk to me?" "What a shame if you misspeak now")

Clusterhug feels like a conversation between them and Tighnari (especially the first stanza), and Razzmatazz is their perspective after he joined the fascists,

Mad IQ is definitely Alhaitham's song ("I'm a voluntary victim"),

And Cyno's definitely singing New Invention. Ain't no way that's not his theme (and maybe Kaveh's as well),

(((I still stand my ground that From The Gallows is Visconti Diluc's theme ("you're beautiful and evil too, sinister and vile.") That creepy and rose-colored devotion fits too well with his character here, especially since he doesn't know that capo!reader's sick.)))

Edit: She also suggested these for 1981 EP:

Bleed Magic can be Tighnari's overall theme, especially the "you never know a single thing about me until it's far too late" line,

Social Climber as Capo!Reader's first few months/years joining the mafia (could also be Alhaitham's if you interpret the "when I'm with you." part as Capo!Reader),

Choke plays during Rosalyne's death (and I think this is also one of the secret route's theme but shhh),

Absinthe in relation to Capo!Reader's addiction (rehab), and I also think this can also relate to Kaveh but hmm we'll see in chapter 4,

And Do It All The Time is "their peak to Capo-hood lmao as they spiral to the reality of their mortality" and no truer words have ever been spoken (plus I think this also fits Tartaglia, but ironically. "Then I'm taking your girl, and I'm making her mine." He did not, in fact, take the girl lololol–.)

[paperanddice]

The poll I put up on Patreon also gained a lot of votes for 13th Age material. A lot of people who love the system have been finding my work, it's very wonderful, so based on the votes I'm going to be changing up my weekly schedule going forward. Twice a week will be 5e and 13th Age conversions of Pathfinder Bestiary material, and once a week will be a post just for two 13th Age conversions of either material I made for 5e before discovering 13th Age or monsters from the Tome of Beasts.

Starting these 13th Age conversions is a few of the unusual elementals I made back at the very start of my regular monster production. Most people summoning elementals go for the base 4, but by channelling that energy into alternate mediums you can get versions that may be more useful to your specific situation. They are also sometimes summoned accidentally, such as when someone is going for an air elemental but the area it's summoned in is so choked with dust that some Earth is called up as well and creates a merged air/earth elemental. Ice elementals are simply water in the right environment, and while they are vulnerable to fire and melt easily, canny conjurers can purposefully include them in ice spells to heal them up and keep them in a fight longer.

I didn't give these elementals the same 4 levels that the four core 13th Age elementals have, partly just because it's a bit of busy work. Releasing 4 stat blocks for each one that mostly are just number adjustment for different levels is useful for letting the creatures show up across the spectrum of the game without the GM having to do as much work, but for this I'll leave the adjustments to those who want to scale them up or down. They are slotted in as one level higher than the "normal" version of the elementals, representing that utilizing non-standard environments is a little bit more powerful but harder to pull off in a lot of places.

This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Dust Elemental  6th level spoiler [elemental]  Initiative: +11 Dusty Strike +11 vs. PD - 17 damage. Natural Even Hit: The target pops free from the elemental. Natural Odd Hit: The target is also hampered (save ends). Burrower: loose ground like dust and sand only. Flight. Resist Non-Spell Damage 14+. Dust Devil Transformation: Roll a d8 at the start of each of the dust elemental’s turns. If you roll less than or equal to the escalation die, it shifts into dust devil form until the end of the battle. While in this form it gains the following attack (and you stop rolling dust devil transformation checks): Slashing Whirlwind +11 vs. PD (all engaged enemies and one nearby enemy) - 10 damage and the target is hampered (save ends). Natural 16+: The target is also dazed while hampered. AC 22 PD 21 MD 16 HP 74

Ice Elemental  6th level blocker [elemental]  Initiative: +9 Vulnerability: Fire Jagged Icy Fists +10 vs. AC (2 attacks) - 6 damage plus 6 cold damage. Natural 16+: The target is also stuck until the end of the ice elemental’s next turn. Freeze Over: Roll a d8 at the start of each of the ice elemental’s turns. If you roll less than or equal to the escalation die, it shifts into frigid defender form until the end of the battle. While in this form it gains a +1 bonus to AC and PD and the freezing aura ability (and you stop rolling freeze over checks). Freezing Aura: Staggered enemies that start their turn nearby the elemental must roll a normal save. On a failure, they are stuck until the end of that turn. Absorb Ice 18 and below: When the ice elemental is targeted by an attack that deals cold damage and rolls a natural 18 or less, the elemental heals 3d6 hit points and takes no damage from the attack. AC 22 PD 20 MD 16 HP 92

[evonnagale]

Hoping for some motivation to write, gonna try @kedreeva 's WIP Wednesday challenge (original here)

For those who want them fast, here's the rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

(I accidentally inserted a poll trying to do bullet points, and I can't figure out how to get rid of it, so here, have a poll:)

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We're posting progress here. If you haven't made any, go make some and come back to post.

After you've posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

That's it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

If you're reading this, you're invited!

Because most of my stuff starts out handwritten, I was given the direction to describe each notebook, so here are my 5:

Purple Composition

Green Composition

Remarkable Views of Bridges

One Thousand Pictures of the Ocean

Tiny Orange Composition

And here is my snippet (it is.. long, but I can't bear to break it up):

After the long day he's had, Rupert is grateful to make it up to his rooms unaccosted by any of the servants or staff. Jefferson appears to have taken his word that he wouldn't want help tonight and Rupert lets out a sigh as he opens the door to his rooms. He's halfway to the fire to grab a light for the lamp when he hears the soft sobs coming from his bed. "Izzy?" He hears a muffled affirmation. He sets about quickly to light the lamp on the bedside, and in its light can see his wife with her face buried in a pillow. He lays his hand on her back, concerned. "I thought you were staying with Ruby tonight, dear." Her response is still muffled, but might have possibly contained the word 'fight'. It must have been quite the spat, he thinks to himself, as I've never seen Ruby leave her hair in such a state. He sits by her side and smooths his hand over her back, waiting for the renewed sobs to die down and putting his thoughts in order. After a few moments she turns her face to him, and he can see she's been at this a while. Her voice is still choked, but she manages to get words out, trying to explain.

"We had a fight-and it's stupid- and I *know* she's right, I just- I don't know how to make things better. She says she's hurting now, but- but I can't imagine trying to- it won't be any better. They'll eat her alive."

"Breathe, dearest." He pulls out his handkerchief and sets to gently drying her face. "We'll figure something out- tomorrow." He gives her the handkerchief to blow her nose with, and notices her dress hanging over one of his chairs. "Did you get yourself ready for bed?" That would probably explain the hair.

She nods merosely. "Do you know how hard it is to get out of clothes when all the buttons are on the back? Or do a braid when you can't see it?" She pulls her knees up under the duvet and hugs them. "My arms hurt so badly by the end, but I-" He waits for her to go on, but as the pause stretches longer he concedes that she's not willing to finish that thought.

"I could redo the braid for you, if you'd like?"

She makes a sad little noise that might have been a scoff, or a poor attempt at a laugh. "Do you know how to braid hair?"

"It can't be that hard if I can see what I'm doing."

"I don't have my comb here."

"I can go fetch it."

She lets out a sigh, and he can see some of the tension drain out of her. "Alright."

He gives her arm a quick squeeze of reassurance before heading out the door and down the hall to her rooms. He gently knocks on the door and is greeted with a biting "What?" He opens the door so that Ruby can see him, but doesn't cross the threshold. She's sitting at the vanity, just finishing tying off her hair. "My Lord." She sounds as if every letter pains her to speak.

"Ruby." He sighs. "May I come in?" A sharp jerk of her head is her answer, and she turns back to the vanity as the door clicks shut.

"What do you need, Rupert?" She sounds so, very, tired, but at least she's using his name again.

"Izzy tried to do her own hair-" a snort inturups him "-and I was hoping to grab her comb so I could fix it."

"Do you even know how to braid hair?" He can't help the grin that spreads across his face at how similar they are sometimes.

"Not well," he admits. "But at least I'm able to see when entire sections are loose."

She lets out a soft laugh and pulls her braid over her shoulder. "Come here, I'll walk you through it." He moves to stand behind her and can see that she's undoing the end of her braid.

"Are you sure?" They had both hinted rather heavily at Ruby's preferences, and he wasn't sure how far that extended. He'd certainly known men who wouldn't touch their sisters, let alone any other women.

"Best be sure you actually fix it, rather than make it a different flavor of worse." He watched her run her fingers through the braid, deftly undoing the work she had just finished, and waited for the silence to break. She got as far as roughly parting her hair and grasping the comb before the silence broke, she clutching the comb close to herself instead of giving it to him. "What did she say?"

He reached out and gently rested his hands on her arms, trying to give her some reassurance. "She said you two had a fight, and that she could see where you were coming from, but not a way to fix things that wouldn't end up worse than the way things are now." She took a slow deep breath and sighed it out, finally handing him the comb.

"That's about the gist of it. Take the wide end and start from the bottom and work up."

After a few passes he realized something. "Why take so much extra work to start from the bottom? The ends will have been combed at least a hundred times by the time you're done, surely."

Ruby made a little affirming noise. "But I promise you, if you tried to start from the top- even with my hair that had just been nicely ready for bed- you'd have quickly made quite the knot and one of us would be crying. Starting from the bottom let's you work all the little snarls out, instead of letting them merge into a large one half way down."

[He asks about the substance of the argument, and they chat about that while also getting her hair braided. She shows him how to tie the end off, and he tucks the comb and a hair tie into his pocket]

"Thank you for telling me. And for the lesson."

"You're very welcome for the lesson. Maybe from now on *you* can deal with her unruly hair after you've made a rats nest of it."

"That seems entirely reasonable to me." He gently pulls her into a hug, as he would any of his sisters, and places a chaste kiss to her forehead as he's seen her do for Izzy. He's not entirely surprised when she freezes, though he refuses to call that other emotion he feels disappointment. He had hoped they were friendly enough for a casual fairwell. Still, he opens his arms and waits for her to move away. It takes her a moment to gather herself, and when she does pull back she seems to be unable to look him in the face.

"Don't mind me." She caches his hands as they droop back to his sides and gives them a squeeze. "Thank you for listening." Another, longer squeeze and she lets go, looking at him again. "Have a good night, Rupert."

He manages a smile. "Have a good night, Ruby."

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

Family - Young Bucks x Emery

Part of my Dark Angel of the Bullet Club series

Last week, I had a poll for which sibling-esque pairing you wanted to see first, and Matt/Nick Jackson won by an overwhelming landslide. (75-ish % of all votes) The only other one in the poll that got the remaining votes was Kyle O'Reilly - which I'll get that up soon-ish.

The shoes in the image above are the ones mentioned at the tail end of this. They're so pretty but hella expensive (150-175$ )

Words: 2320

Tag List:

@blxxckheart @mrsmatt

(If you want to be added to my tag list(s) just let me know! I have 3 separate ones for the companies - AEW, WWE, and NJPW)

Warnings: potential triggers for mental health, thoughts of suicide, past body image issues, depression

(border by)

Emery could feel the familiar thoughts and emotions weasel their way into her head. It became difficult to swallow, her throat felt dry, she began to lose her appetite, and her interest in things became stagnant.

She’d be on the couch watching her favorite TV show, but her eyes would be glazed over, and she wouldn’t pay attention to it. Despite normally going to bed around 11 at night, she’d be curled under a blanket, her room darkened by the blinds, by 6 in the evening.

Texts would go unanswered, and calls would ring through to voicemail. Social media notifications would go unchecked, and no posts from her would be made.  

Oftentimes, she’d go without eating much- maybe a cracker in the morning after she finally willed herself out of bed, and if she were lucky, she’d have an apple later in the day.

She’d refuse to look in mirrors, especially the full-length mirror in her bedroom, because she knew the moment she did, all the self-hating thoughts would break her even more.

This would usually go on for a week, maybe two. If she were needed at work, she’d force herself to grab her phone and send a simple message to her boss, which was now Tony Khan, and say she was sick and unable to make it.

Her thoughts would go rampant, especially at night when she lay in bed trying to sleep. They’d remind her of all the dark, miserable things from her past that she would rather forget. The thoughts would tell her that she was weak, talentless, and nobody loved her and nobody ever would; that she was ugly and fat, and if she were to die, nobody was miss her.

It took a few days before those thoughts became so loud in her head that she was unable to ignore them. Her lungs felt like they were being squeezed, and it hurt even to breathe; it was as though she was suffocating in the self-deprecating whispers that held her hostage.

The scariest part of the whole this is when she would find herself seriously considering ending it all. Oftentimes, her eyes would land on her razor, thoughts of how easy it would be to dismantle it and use the blade on herself.

As she sat in her apartment bathroom, the razor in her hands as she unconsciously twirled it around, Emery felt the tears trickle down her face. Her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but to no avail. The noise of her phone ringing reached her ears as the familiar Superkick tone played in the distance. Eventually, it stopped, but the second it did, her mind began to race as if it were a wake-up call. Throwing the razor into the sink as she got up from her seat on the tub, Emery ran to her phone in a mild panic.

Her fingers shook as she opened the chat with the two brothers that had basically adopted her into their family, and she typed out an SOS.

“Im so far deep in the rabbit hole.”

Then quickly she added:

“I dont know which way to go.”

Falling to her knees beside her bed, it took only five seconds before her phone began to ring again. After a brief pause of hesitation, her finger over the red button on the screen, she moved over and tapped the green icon and then the speaker button.

“Ree, can you hear us?” Matt’s worried voice gently asked, the worry evident in his tone.

“Y-yeah,” Emery choked out.

“We’ve missed you this past week,” Nick stated, “Not having you ringside felt odd.”

“Brandon had the nerve to ask us if he could make a play for a championship,” Matt tried joking.

“You should’ve seen Kenny after his match—” Nick continued, telling her all about Kenny’s crazy antics backstage.

Just sitting there in the dark, listening to them go back and forth, Emery could feel her body begin to relax. The tears stopped falling, her lungs stopped feeling as though they were constricted, and the nagging, dark thoughts in her head seemed to fade away. Minutes passed by, and after Matt told her about someone backstage accidentally spilling coffee on his shoes, a soft giggle escaped her lips.

“There she is,” Nick said, the smile on his face evident just from his words.

“Go figure it takes my shoes getting ruined to make her laugh,” Matt joked, “I’m just lucky these weren’t my favorite pair.”

“I don’t even know if they still sell your favorite ones,” Nick told him.

“My luck, probably not. I’ll have to get a new pair, though,” Matt frowned, “There’s that store there in Jacksonville; they’ve got a good selection. Maybe we can hit them up tomorrow after we get back?”

“Sounds good to me—Ree, wanna come with us?”

“I dunno….” She replied softly.

“C’monnnn,” Matt enticed her, “We need you there to ensure we don’t spend five grand on shoes again.”

“And for you to tell us that the ones we like look like shit,” Nick added, causing another giggle from Emery. This one, however, was fuller and pronounced- almost a full laugh.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go,” Emery conceded, “But only so that you don’t spend a ridiculous amount and get into trouble with Dana and Ellen.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Nick told her.

“We should be there around noon, but we’ll text you when we get to the hotel.”

“Sounds good… I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Emery said.

Nick said, “See ya then,” at the same time that Matt replied, “We’ll see ya.”

“And guys…?”

“Yeah?” Matt answered.

“… Thank you,” Emery told them, a soft smile on her face.

“Any time, sweetheart,” Nick replied.

“Love you, angel face,” Matt added.

“Love you too.”

With that, the phone call ended, leaving Emery in what was once her self-induced prison. Taking a deep breath, she stood up from the floor and crossed her room; slowly, her arms parted the curtain, letting the sunlight flow into her once-dark room. She knew she had to shower—but more prominent was the rumbles of hunger coming from her stomach that she had ignored for close to five days. Deciding to get something to eat first, Emery smiled at how lucky she was to have the friends she did. Her teen years were not the best and were marred by darkness, but since then, she had come a long way. She should be—and was—proud of herself for getting to where she was in life, and despite the ugly moments that sometimes hit her hard, she was doing just fine.

Next Day

 After the Bucks had landed and were settled into their respective hotel rooms, they had sent Emery a text, telling her where and when to meet them. A quarter past two, she left her apartment for the first time in days and ventured outside and amongst the living.

The previous day had been spent on her, focusing on healing and self-appreciation. A bubble bath, face mask, cleaning up her apartment, eating actual meals, and slowly catching up on her messages and notifications.

Arriving at the mall five minutes past three, Emery walked through the parking lot and into the large Nike shoe store. It didn’t take her long to find her friends, who had already begun slowly walking the store to see what they had in stock.

“Hey, there she is,” Nick smiled as he saw her approach. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug and held her secure for a solid minute before releasing her- but Matt quickly took his place and engulfed her in another tight hug. It wasn’t a bone-crushing one, but more of a ‘please remember I love you and you are not alone; I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you’ kind of hug. It helped to ground her and help her feel more connected to the life she was grateful even to have.

“Glad you could make it,” Matt smirked as he let her go.

“Thanks for the invite.”

“We know shoe shopping is—weirdly enough, not your thing,” Nick shrugged, “But it’s been a while since we hung out, aside from work-related stuff.”

“Very true,” Emery nodded in agreement, “And I do enjoy shoe shopping—just not for shoes that cost the same amount as I pay for rent.”

“They don’t cost that much!” Matt argued, a smile on his face.

“You guys buy two to four pairs each time, and at one-fifty to two hundred per pair?” Emery told him, “Do I need to do the math for you?”

“Even if we bought four pairs at two hundred, that’s only eight hundred, which is still less than you pay for rent,” Nick frowned as Emery looked at him incredulously.

“It’s still a huge chunk of what could be my rent, though! It’s too much! One pair of shoes for fifty dollars is enough for me, which usually lasts three years.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt waved her off before turning around to resume searching the wall, “Regardless, help us find some new ones.”

“You guys are insane,” Emery rolled her eyes playfully before she started scanning the wall, “What about those Air Force 1’s up there? The multi-colored one?”

“We already got a pair.”

“Of course you do. Okay, what about these Air Jordan 1 retro’s?” Emery questioned, pointing at the blue, white, and gray shoe near her.

“Got it already.”

“This is insane. You guys have—how many shoes? Two hundred? Three hundred? Everything I point to, you probably already have.”

“We don’t have that many,” Nick recoiled defensively, a smirk on his face.

“Might as well have,” Emery side-eyed him, poking her tongue out at him.

“Just keep pointing out any you see,” Matt smiled as they continued searching.

An hour later, after pointing out what seemed like at least a hundred different shoes, both brothers had three pairs chosen. They had even picked out a pair for Kenny and Brandon as gifts, which Emery couldn’t really argue with them over since it was a gift and not for them. As Matt placed his on the counter to begin checking out, Emery looked around and noticed that Nick had disappeared.

“Hey, where’s Nick?”

“Hmm? Oh, I think he said something about having an employee check if they had a certain shoe in the back,” Matt shrugged before deciding to add the shoes for Kenny and Brandon to his order.

“Of course he did.”

Nick rejoined them shortly after, carrying two boxes of shoes that he then added to his three boxes, ignoring the glare he got from Emery.

“Really, Nicolas? Five pairs of shoes?” she asked despairingly.

“Hey, two are gifts,” Nick replied, waiting as the cashier scanned the boxes and opened each to check them.

“You guys want to grab a bite to eat?” Matt asked as Emery looked over at him.

“We could—if you guys are hungry.”

“Sounds good to me. I think there’s a Steak and Shake and Wendy’s right across the parking lot,” Nick nodded as he paid for his order.

“Let’s do Steak and Shake- we’ll probably do Wendy’s with Kenny and Brandon at some point in the next day,” Matt laughed.

“Sounds good to me!” Emery smiled as they walked out of the store. The brothers followed Emery to her car, claiming they were parked in the same direction, exchanging a glance that Emery failed to notice. When they reached her vehicle, she turned around and looked at them curiously.

“So… are we driving the short distance or just gonna walk there?”

“We could walk it,” Matt shrugged.

“Then… probably put your shoes in your car? Or are you gonna carry them with you?” Emery questioned, confused.

“Yeah, we could put them in our car,” Nick nodded, “So while we put ours away, stash this in your trunk.”

He held out one of his bags towards her, and as she looked at it in confusion, then up to his blue eyes, it dawned on her.

“You—you didn’t,” she muttered softly, shoulders slumping slightly, “Guys, I told you before, don’t get me any of those expensive shoes—”

“Yeah, well, we ignored that,” Nick shrugged, keeping his hand held out towards her.

“Ree, you’re family,” Matt said, his brown eyes warmly looking at her, “We care a lot about you—and when family is feeling down and depressed—you do anything to make them feel better. Every time I’ve been down, you’re always there for me, so let us be there for you. Let us do this—for you.”

“You guys,” Emery whispered, her eyes tearing up instantly. She nudged past Nick’s outstretched arm and wrapped her own arms around both brothers, hugging both at once. Pulling away and stepping back, Emery used the back of her hands to dry the tears that had fallen.

“Fine—but if you insist on buying me things, make it not-shoes. Buy me other things, sparkly things, anything. Just not shoes,” Emery told them, gently taking the bag from Nick.

“Can’t promise anything,” the younger Jackson smirked mischievously, earning a playful glare from Emery.

“Which ones did you get me?” she asked, peering into the bag to view the tags on the boxes. One box was labeled ‘Air Max 90 Unlocked Prom Edition,’ and the other read ‘Air Max 90 Futura’.

“Ones that you’ll like. Besides—if you’re joining us ringside, you gotta at least look like a Jackson,” Nick joked.

“You got the hair, eyes, and attitude. Just missing the shoes,” Matt smiled.

Looking up from the boxes, she smiled warmly at the brothers, “Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime.”

“Like we said. You’re family—and we take care of family.”

To her, they were the best family she could have ever wished for; one that she never imagined having, but counted her lucky stars that she had.