#rath you get this setting

[ghostinthegallery]

Shout out to Robert Rath and Fall of Cadia for making all the space marine characters a) vainglorious idiots b) vainglorious MEGA SUPER idiots or c) so wrapped up in their own personal drama and/or codes of honor that they were functionally useless until it was too late. I think Rath should be the only author allowed to write space marines until GW remembers they are supposed to be deconstructions of fascist military ideals and not superheroes.

#warhammer40k #fall of cadia #that vook really nails the balance between deconstruction and satire and being a good scifi action book #dont get me wrong the space marines kick ass #just...not tactically useful ass #those goddamn black templars and their rock #MARTYR ROCK #hilarious #the fact the dark angels and space wolves can't sit next to each other at a military briefing #rath you get this setting

[ahhhwomen]

I don’t know why I bite.

Vampire Empire

Part 1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: We are going to ignore how long I disappeared, okay thank you. Also, y/n will not be in a proper relationship with the girls, she will very much be viewed and treated like a pet not a partner, but she will obvi still get the love.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death (later on)Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Your Master is a cruel woman, but you would never stand a chance against her, but what if they can?

Word Count: 3.5k

The keys jingle in a pattern.

With each step, the clash of metal calls out. It changes tune, depending on the day. If she’s tired, she drags her feet, it’s a slower melody. When she’s angry, there is a harshness to the smashing of the chain against her belt and a thud to her heavy boots.

You don’t know what her happy steps are, you think the sound would be smooth. Maybe, like she´s floating?

You wonder if you are ever going to hear it? If you are being honest with yourself, you don’t really know if you want to. At least her other behaviors are predictable, you can handle predictable, uncertainty however, that is an entirely different game. Not one you are very keen on playing.

Today, her steps boom like thunder, and her keys shriek like lighting.

Chills run down your spine; you press against the cold concrete wall. It scratches your skin. You press harder and cower closer.

You are shaking as she sweeps around the corner of your prison; she’s frowning today.

But…?

It hurts.

From yesterday. It still hurts.

She always gives you a day.

It still hurts.

You need a day.

It doesn't matter. You know you can’t stop it.

You close your eyes and submerge yourself in the void. You don’t like the dark, but she doesn't like it when you see.

Your cage opens with a shriek. You flinch as she touches your face, she is breathing down your neck and you feel yourself panic as she struggles with your collar.

It's never good when she takes away your collar.

Before you do something stupid, like fight back, a soothing voice guides you. It’s a whisper, that only you can hear. Drag in slow breaths, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Rinse and repeat. You do as they tell you.

You're in a sunflower field.

The heavy feeling in your stomach is from the big dinner you had, half an hour earlier.

The sun is setting, and you are smiling and laughing as you run through the field of flowers. They're ginormous, almost bigger than you. There is a weight to them as you push past. They scratch and irritate, but it's only temporary, so you keep laughing to yourself.

There is a whip to the wind, the sound loud and frightening. The flowers are louder, so you pretend not to hear. They rustle and dance in the harsh wind.

It's dark, but the yellow glow of plant life guides you. You don’t know where you are running to, maybe home, maybe the ocean. It matters not. You are happy, just you and the flowers.

When the wind calms and the sun peaks over the horizon you know it’s time to leave.

You trek through the soil and ignore the sharp stones that prick your pale skin, you wish you could stay, but it’s time to return.

You open your eyes when she leaves. She almost killed you today.

It's okay.

You deserved it.

Tomorrow, you rest.

Maybe.

Natasha smirks over the rim of her whisky glass. One would think the blonde would be professional after almost a century of doing business, yet she still stomps around like a child throwing a tantrum when she doesn't get it her way. The redhead almost feels bad for the poor pet that was going to be at the end of Carol's rath tonight, almost.

“Knock, knock.” Wanda stands in the doorway, her knuckles lightly tapping against the dark oak.

She’s dressed modern today. Her suit is fitted to perfection, it hugs her waist and expands her hips. She also went for a smokey makeup look, her eyeshadow a mix of dark brown and black, her lips a deep amber, just like her suit.

If attraction could kill Natasha would be one dead woman.

She smiles at her wife before signaling her in with a wave. She’s surprised to see Wanda, her wife comes by occasionally, and she has always dressed nicely, but this is new. Due to her desk stealing her view, Natasha can't see, but she can hear her wife's high heels as she passes through the threshold. Same color as the suit she imagines.  

“What brings you here?” Natasha questions as she pours her wife a drink.

Wanda settles herself in the plush chair in front of her wife before bothering to answer. “Do I need a reason lovely? Maybe I just want to see my beautiful wife in her place of work.” Wanda grins while the other redhead hands her a glass of whiskey. Neat, just how she likes it.

Natasha scans her wife with suspicion, she wants something. She can tell by the way Wanda leans her body slightly to the left while her lips lift into a flirtatious half-smirk.

The shorter redhead lifts her eyebrow. “As nice as that may be, why are you really here?”

Wanda deflates slightly at her wife’s accusatory tone. She is right, of course, but Wanda was hoping she could butter her up a little before getting to that. Wanda will have to ask her out on a date soon and make herself a little less predictable.

She is ashamed to say it's been a while since their last dinner date, or movie night for that matter. However, it's hard to find the time when you have been married since the eighteen hundreds, and you both work more than any human would be capable of.

Which brings her to her point.

Wanda pulls in a breath, “I want a pet.”

Before Natasha can get a word in Wanda continues to ramble all in the same breath, “And I know, I know, we have already gone over this. But I'm lonely. The business has been slow since the Stark clan agreed to our peace offering. And while you are busy here, I want someone to come home too.” Wanda keeps her tone open and light.

She wasn’t here to accuse her wife of not giving her enough attention, they both knew that their different work would keep them apart, but while Wanda would spend long nights in her home office, Natasha would spend them in her company office on the other side of the city.

Natasha drums her fingers sharply against her desk, she wants to shut the idea down immediately.

Having a frail human pet would mean having a weakness. Natasha knows her wife well. She knows her wife will get attached, and she knows it will never end well for either of them.

On the other hand, she understands her wife's needs. Natasha spends most of her days in the office, working to uphold their cover, while Wanda spends her days all over the city settling their other business. Their schedules never align either, Natasha works days, Wanda nights. She has to admit, it doesn't sound half bad to have someone to come home to the few nights she can afford it.

Wanda is waiting with bated breath as her wife concludes.

“You have already set up the meet, haven’t you?”

Wanda gapes slightly but conceals it before her wife sees. She knows her too well indeed.

She slumps into her chair, “Yes.” She lifts her finger to stop Natasha from commenting, “In my defense, I was coming here to get your approval.” Natasha chuckles to herself.

“And if you didn’t get it your way?”

Wanda smiles bashfully, “Then I would go without you.” Natasha has to blink away tears from how hard she laughs, she is gripping her stomach, wheezing while answering, “I would expect nothing less my love.” She rights her posture and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. She glances at her wife hiding her blush behind luscious red locks.

She can never say no to her.

Clapping her hands together, she responds. “Fine, you win.”

Wanda practically shines with mirth and joy, “But,” her companion eyes her carefully, nodding to confirm she´s listening. “I get to pick the name that goes on her collar.”

The other redhead huffs, “Fine, but it better not be something stupid.”

Natasha shrugs and her wife leans over the table to slap her shoulder in warning. Natasha smiles all the same and shakes her head, “Yeah, yeah, nothing dumb.” As much fun as she is having with this, she is a busy woman.

She runs her hands down her black suit, thinks of what paperwork to finish, and mumbles a question about when they need to leave while sorting through the latest update about their progress on Project X. Wanda, without missing a beat, states a simple, “Now.”

Nat drops her pen and pinches the skin between her eyebrows. Wanda shrugs half apologetically as Natasha fixes her with a hard glare.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha grumbles a short, “Right, we better get going then.”

It's been almost a decade since she has set foot in one of these shitholes. Nothing has changed, the cages are just as small, and the odor stinks the same, alcohol, blood, and fear.

Wanda shifts uncomfortably as they wait for the salesman to get his spreadsheet, Natasha silently watches from the sideline as he sorts through a mess of paper and fast-food containers to find what he is looking for. She chastises Wanda for not finding a better establishment. Back in their time, this was the usual, but nowadays they have far better alternatives.

Wanda leans against Natasha to whisper, “It was the only place by a few miles Tash, and it’s the only place we have time for.” Natasha stays unimpressed. Wanda smirks at her wife and tucks a strand of loose hair behind the other redhead's ear before discreetly licking the shell of it and whispering sweetly, “I will make it up to you.” Natasha shivers under the attention and the salesman grunts a weak, “found it” before leading them into the main hall.

The ocean swishes in the background as you lie on your blue, shark-themed blanket in your modern bikini. The sun gleams over your head. Your skin stings and you shift onto your stomach, you must have forgotten sunscreen again.

Nonetheless, you purr under the shine of good weather; you wish you had taken a book with you. Maybe next time. For now, you stretch out and lay your bare arms against the warm sand. It will be stuck in every crevice, but it's nice.

A light breeze passes you.

You suck in a big breath, it burns, but you ignore it. It smells of salt and….. salt… and….?

Ice-cream.

It smells of salt and ice cream.

You think you may stay for a while today. You might visit tomorrow, but you would rather not.

If it doesn't burn too much, you hope to sleep tomorrow through. After all, if you are really lucky, you may not wake up again.

This place is even more depressing than Wanda had anticipated.

She and the other redhead had been to a similar place a few decades ago, but this was just sad. Not even the potent scent of blood can get her to ignore the uncomfortable sound of churning, empty, stomachs.

If they lived in a different city she would have taken her wife to a more humane operation, but with limited time comes limited opportunity.

The male and female sections are separate, in the left hall she can smell the odor of young men eager to please, while in this hall she can see the curious and smell the fearful. The gruff man showing them around had introduced them to a few pets by now, but she had to admit they were not what she was hoping for.

There had been one pet she took a slight liking to; a young woman, in her mid-twenties, she was in the puppy section, an enthusiastic little thing. But in the end, she was a little too pushy for Wanda’s liking, Natasha hadn’t seemed too keen either, so they left it there.

The kitten section wasn’t too bad, but every time she thought she was building a connection, Natasha would step into the pet's line of sight and they would cower away one by one. She knows her wife is putting on a stern face to test the poor little things, but it was starting to piss her off big time.

Wanda rolls her eyes as the feeble man struggles with yet another lock, she lifts her suit jacket and checks the expensive gold watch ticking away, fifteen more minutes or they will have to come back another time. Given that this was the only available time she and Nat had had in a few weeks the dire truth of not getting a pet today was settling in.

“Here she is, now she's not much to look at, but since you wanted to see them all,” the man shrugs and Wanda has half the mind to bite his head off. Before she can do anything of the sort Natasha takes her by surprise by stepping into the cage before her.

Nat ignores her wife as she steps into your cage, she has seen you before.

You were Carol's pet, or at least she thought you were. But it seems you were a less permanent part of the blonde’s life. Your cage was different, it was slightly bigger, the poorly dressed man had said something earlier about you being a leased pet.

You look horrible. She is studying you from a few feet away and she can still see the horrors you must have been through.

She knows Carol is violent, it's why she has spent so long trying to negotiate with blondie. Their clans were never on the same page and yes, threats were constantly made, but this was something else. Natasha would never think the pathetic woman would do this just because she could.

She hears Wanda step in and gasp at the sight of you.

You are lying on the hard floor with your back turned to them, a rag the size of a hand towel barely covering your bottom. Your hands are stretched out under the lamp, the only heat source you have, you have been beaten to a pulp. There are deep lacerations covering you, your entire body is one big bruise, and dried blood covers every crevice of both your skin and even part of the walls. But that was not what caught either of their attention, no, it was the lack of life they could sense from you.

Natasha kneels a few feet away from you and studies you carefully.  Her hand rests against her cheek as she tries to focus on your heartbeat. It beats, but there was something off about it. It's slow like you are asleep, but she can hear in your breathing that you are still conscious.

She tilts her head and talks off-handedly at the man behind her.

“Is she sick?” She hears him scoff but ignores it in favor of closing her eyes and trying to feel you.

“Of course not-“ He waves his hand, “all that,” he gestures at your body, “was her own fault.”

Before Natasha has time to reprimand the pig, she hears a crunch behind her followed by a heavy thud.

She huffs and raises herself slowly before opening her eyes and looking at her wife with her peripheral vision. “I thought we agreed to not kill anyone today.”

Wanda stares at her with empty eyes. “No. We agreed on not killing any innocent people tonight. As far as I am concerned, I am just following his logic, after all this was all his fault.” Wanda gestures at the dead man's body.

Natasha turns to her wife while rolling her eyes.

Wanda ignores her wife's sass and looks past her to take you in once more. “Who is she?”

Natasha shrugs and gazes at you over her shoulder. “She was Carol´s plaything, but I guess Carol never owned her like I thought.” Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise and stared at Nat, “That’s y/n?”. Her eyes move down to you again, “last time I saw her she sure as hell didn’t look like that.”

Natasha nods and crosses her arms in thought, “well it seems Carol is an even worse owner than she is a negotiator.”

The last time Wanda had seen you was when she joined one of Natasha’s meetings a few months ago, you were a new thing back then. You had scars, but they were pink and healed, you were a skittish little thing, but you ate, you had some color to you, and you sure as hell didn’t feel like this.

You could feel their eyes all over your body. You hated it, you never liked it when people looked too hard or thought too long, it always meant the same thing. They were assessing whether or not you are a feasible option as a pet. You know you aren’t, you know they will scoff and turn their backs to you as if you disgust them, like you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.

You get it though, they are probably right.

Usually, such a thing wouldn’t bother you, you are used to it by now, but there was something about their scents that put you off, you felt out of place even more than usual, and you hated it.  

You were too focused on pretending to be asleep to assess what the heavy thud against the concrete could have been.

Whatever it was, must have had something breakable inside of it as you could hear a clear crack as something bounced off the floor. You decided you didn’t care, you only cared about the sudden voice that took over all the space of your enclosure. Powerful enough to command any and every room, you know this voice. It belongs to one Natasha Romanoff, and suddenly the voice behind her made sense too. You had only seen the redhead once, but you would remember her anywhere, just as commanding as her wife, and even more scary, Wanda Maximoff.

If you weren’t scared before, you were positively shitting your nonexistent pants now.

You try to keep your breathing even so as to not show any hint of awareness, you have no idea what they could be doing here. Had Master sent them? Were these the last moments you would have, were you going to die in this tiny, claustrophobic hellhole?

You were panicking, and you know they can sense it. Feel it. No matter how many times Master called you such, you weren’t an idiot. You know what they are, you know what they can do, what they will do.

As you hear one of them take a step closer you turn into a stiff board. You stay completely still as you feel your lungs start resisting the air you desperately try to force into them, you have this sudden need to flee or to bear your neck and beg for them to finish it quickly. Right after the thought passes your mind you shrink in shame, Master will kill you for ever thinking of bearing your neck to another.

You can hear them pause for a moment as you feel their eyes on you again. You have been made.

You don’t know what comes over you, you don’t know where you suddenly find the strength, but before you even know what you are doing you are leaping towards the women, your hands ready to claw out their eyes if need be.

You know they are stronger, faster, and smarter than you could ever wish to be, but this is a survival instinct, nothing makes sense, nothing matters. And as you collide into a warm body and start ripping into it, to the best of your ability, you realize, you have no idea what you are doing.

Natasha knew what you were about to do, possibly before you, and as you crashed into her and started scratching and ripping at anything you could get your hands on, she realized that maybe you still have a chance at this life. For the first time during their little visit, she can feel something in you, it’s small, scared, abused, but there is a will there, a will to live, a will to fight. That is more than most in this bleak city.

She holds you gently as you rip apart her coat, tear at her skin, and bite her hands. She hears Wanda take an uncertain step toward the both of you, unsure of what to do. But Natasha waves her hands nonchalantly and asks Wanda with a calm voice to stay back.

Natasha understands that to her wife you must look positively rabid. You were in the kitten class, but you were fighting Natasha as if you were a fighter dog. All teeth and claws. However, compared to Natasha, you might as well have been a mite.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t pierce her skin, can’t topple her balance, you can’t win.

Your fingers dig into the soft skin, your nails gripping and tearing, but nothing happens. There is no skin underneath your nails, no blood, no sight of damage against pale skin. You bite the hands that hold you, and you can hear your jaw creek as you strain your weak body, but the skin doesn't break, the only blood you taste is your own.

You are scared, you don’t know what to do, there is no sunflower field to hide behind, no sea to drown in, you feel powerless, even more so than she makes you feel.

You don’t know what they want, you don’t want to die like this.

Even after all your effort goes to waste you can’t give up, you have to keep trying, you have to-

“Stop.”

Wanda looks at you with an unreadable expression, you look up in terror as you realize you can’t move your body. One simple word, in one simple tone, has made you paralyzed.

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader

[ironunderstands]

Yapping about why I love Aventio and what I feel makes it a great ship 

(If you hate it I urge you to read this, because you don’t have to agree with me, but I want you to get where Aventio shippers are coming from at least)

I’ve just really wanted to talk about why I love Aventio because the people do not get it like I do and GODDD ITS SO GOOD WHEN DONE CORRECTLY UGHHHHH

Also this is gonna be VERY stream of consciousness I do not have a plan besides dragging you through my brain so enjoy the ride.

I guess the best place to start is the fact that Aventurine and Ratio are my two favorite characters in the game. Like even if they have no interactions with each other ever and might as well be from different pieces of media I would ship them, because I like seeing characters I like interact and the fun police cannot catch me. That’s a really shallow personal reason though and I feel like the rest I have will be able to be appreciated by others.

GOD THE DYNAMIC IS SO GOOD RAAAAAA

Two emotional constipated dumbasses circling around each other like black holes trying desperately to deny and run from their feelings when they have both fallen hard. The lack of acknowledgement of feelings on both ends is TRAGIC and it makes me want to rip my eyes out in a good way, let’s start with Ratio.

Unfortunately my glorious king Ratio has been mischaracterized to hell and back but we will get to that (and the Incorrect Reasons Why People Hate Aventio) later. Instead I will go over his actual character; a deeply insecure, intelligent man who desperately wants the rest of the galaxy to come to the realizations he has long since stumbled upon, but has been so isolated from his peers from such a young age that he’s doomed to fail in literally every social interaction he has and be misunderstood by both the audience in universe and irl (the autistic coding isn’t helping him either).

Ratio is tragically misunderstood again, both in universe and by the audience, which is why it means so much that Aventurine Gets Him. Aventurine pushes his buttons, tears down that literal cold marble facade masking the deeply silly and caring man beneath (this man bathes with rubber duckies in the privacy of his own home 😭), and that scares the shit out of Ratio. People aren’t meant to see through him, Ratio acts rude not just because he believes it’s the best way to help people, and because he believes he himself is mundane and the conclusions they come to should be their own, not his.

No, it’s also because on some level Ratio is afraid to be vulnerable around people. As much as he pretends like it doesn’t affect him, Nous’s rejection has hurt and haunted Ratio for his entire life. And I do mean his entire life, even in high school he had already set up a strict routine for himself, something commented on by his teacher, Ratio has quite literally always been striving for some sort of perfection and the fact that he cannot achieve it kills him.

Moreover, the guy just grew up way too fast, he didn’t have time to develop social skills. We see it in that afformentioned relationship with his teacher, in which they recommend Ratio (who is again in high school) to be moved up to college level stuff and transferred due to his success. He has quite literally never been able to just relax in a environment of his peers, Ratio for some reason we don’t yet know has always been dedicated to constant improvement and that leaves no room for dealing with failure.

On some level, he knows this too, that he can never be perfect. Ratio is part of the Mundanites in the Intelligenica Guild for a reason, he doesn’t just see himself as mediocre because he believes everyone is and that’s ok, but also because he looks down on himself for being too mediocre for the Genius Society, being too mediocre for Nous’s acknowledgement, being too mediocre for anything.

Which is tragic because Ratio is very accomplished and he is very smart, and his character stories aren’t even told from his pov, but rather in the style of documentaries and letters (his professor) and other works on his well acclaimed life. We don’t ever get to see how Ratio really sees himself, just the tiny cracks in his marble facade that let the real man behind the character shine through.

Because that’s what he’s playing 90% of the time, a character. Whether it be at the Herta Space Station in which his real goal was to uproot the researchers blind worship of the Genius Society, or in Penacony in which he plays up the arrogant, narcissistic scholar both people in universe and irl make him out to be, both to serve a goal bigger than himself. 

Sincere moments from Ratio are RARE but god are they beautiful, his conversation from Screwllum in 1.6 and his note to Aventurine in 2.1 will forever haunt me in the best way possible. If you want to understand Ratio as a character, yes read his character stories, but just watch that damn scene with Screwllum it is phenomenal. He cares so much and is so, so bad at expressing it, he drives me nuts, Veritas Ratio the man you are. 

And the thing is, it seems like he’s always been playing a character and doesn’t know where the real him ends anymore so he just sticks to the way people perceive him a lot of the time. Like as a kid he was constantly striving to be the best so he missed a lot of necessary developmental shit, and as an adult he’s a celebrity so it’s hard for him to attach himself to others anyways because society and his students will hound him for it.

And then you throw Aventurine into the mix, and oh boy does shit get interesting.

Veritas Ratio, perfect “unfeeling” Veritas Ratio and the one person who gets him well enough to push all his buttons and expose the vulnerable underbelly he thought he hid so well. On a fundamental level, Ratio understands this, which is why he doesn’t bother with the alabaster head, as pretending the real him is just as unfeeling and uncaring is easier.

So he brushes off Aventurine’s jests as if they are an insult to his very existence, he can’t look in Aventurine’s eyes when he “betrays” him because his poker face would break, he leaves as soon as he’s done talking because lingering would allow the weight of their conversations to sink in. Part of it is because for pretty much all of Penacony, up until the note Ratio gives him, Ratio is acting, trying to play up the role of the arrogant, unfeeling scholar to make Sunday buy the betrayal plan, because to Sunday this behavior is signs of a bad relationship between the two (honestly the fact that the audience also interpreted it this way makes me mad like did yall seriously not pay attention, but also happy because if even the players were fooled that means Sunday buying it is believable). 

However, even if it feeds into his insecurities, Aventurine knows that false facade and loves tearing it down. It’s very telling that the second time we see Ratio really freak out (the first being at Herta Space Station) is at the suggestion that he came to narrate Aventurine’s demo not because of knowledge or respect for the show or whatever, but because he genuinely likes the guy. What makes it even better is that Aventurine is the one who suggested it, and already figured out the excuses Ratio was going to use to deny it. Ratio can fool everyone else in the galaxy, but he cannot fool Aventurine, and on a fundamental level that is what makes their dynamic work, because Ratio knows Aventurine in the exact same way.

Aventurine can shove away people who care about him, out of distrust and fear that they will leave him like his family did. He can believe he’s unloveable and a person so detestable that even the actions he performs in order to stay alive condemn him to hate himself as much as the rest of the galaxy hates him. But, Ratio doesn’t see him that way.

Aventurine doubts his intelligence, if he has really earned anything he’s done and in his voiceline about Ratio, doubting if Ratio even sees him as smart or worthy. However, Ratios voiceline about Aventurine is about how he believes Aventurine is smart and worthy, and that his doubt will be his downfall if he doesn’t come to the realization that he isn’t worthless. 

Ratio knows Aventurine’s one weakness, the one thing that could stop him; himself. That’s why he gives him the note urging him to stay alive and keep on living because ultimately Aventurine will only ever fail if he gives up. And The Note Is Enough, Aventurine walks into the event horizon of a black hole, confident he can return alive on the other side because someone cares about him, BECAUSE RATIO CARES ABOUT HIM, and wants him to live on even if Aventurine doesn’t feel that way towards himself.

In the metaphorical and literal manifestation of the meaningless of the universe, in the face of overwhelming nihility, Aventurine survives because someone loves him, and with that love he’s strong enough to brave even that. 

Even if they can’t admit it out loud, these two deeply, deeply care for one another and trust each other perhaps more than anyone else in the narrative. The betrayal plan would have never worked if there was not mutual trust, Ratio wouldn’t have gone to Penacony in the first place if he didn’t trust Aventurine, and Aventurine wouldn’t have asked him to come if he did not trust him. We don’t just see this trust between Aventurine and Ratio either, and Jade and Topaz both trust him with their cornerstones, but ultimately it’s Ratio who’s physically with him the whole time, risking his life alongside him for the sake of their plan. 

As much as people like to ignore it, lying to the Family members, to Sunday, is extremely dangerous and puts Ratio’s life in danger as much as it does Aventurine’s. Ratio is not an irrational person, he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t have faith Aventurine would succeed, he would not have done if he didn’t think he would return. They have absolutely faith in one another and it’s beautiful. 

Aventurine’s first constellation is named “Prisoner’s Dilemma” for a reason. A social experiment in which two prisoners are captured and separated, if they sell the other one out and remain silent, they go free but the other remains in jail for 20 years. If they both sell each other out, they get a sentence of 5 years. 

But if they both remain silent, trust the other, they even if they physically can’t communicate and don’t know what the other says, they get the best possible outcome, only one year in jail each. It requires a sacrifice on both ends, they both still have to go to jail, but only for a year, and only if they trust each other completely, as if the other sells them out they will be in jail for 20.

The prisoners dilemma relies completely on trust, and it’s the exact situation Aventurine and Ratio face in the Penacony quests. Aventurines doubts if Ratio’s betrayal was real or not, even if he set it up himself, and Ratio worries about Aventurines survival, if continuing this plan will end well. “You can’t expect a featherless bird to take flight” isn’t just Ratio chastising Sunday, he’s genuinely worried that this plan will put Aventurine at too much of a disadvantage to continue on. 

But they both trust each other, and if just like in the Dilemma neither come out completely unscathed (although it’s much worse on Aventurine’s end), they ultimately achieve their goal. 

God is it sweet and corny in the best way possible 

I want to kill this fandoms perception of stoic, emotionless Ratio because once people realize he’s actually the corniest mf ever is the day I sleep easy. He makes statues of himself doing Jojo poses, he plays chess versus himself, he named himself Veritas (truth), he loves rubber duckies, he literally sits in a bathtub couch, and Aventurine breaths and he gets flustered.

Ratio so deeply silly, chronically corny, it’s a crime he needs to be locked up someone stop him. 

And Aven brings that out of him. His teasing reveals the goofball trying so desperately to disguise himself as a serious scholar. Ratio is very smart of course, but that only makes his silliness better, as you watch this absolute genius of a man behave like a tsundere schoolgirl. 

It’s not like Aventurine is some paragon of seriousness either, he’s the one teasing Ratio, fucking around even in a serious mission. Yeah it’s partly because he wants Sunday to think he’s incompetent, but it’s also because Aventurine genuinely is having fun, enjoying himself before the serious part of the plan kicks in, and the meantime he does that by messing with Ratio.

Their dynamic of Aventurine messing with Ratio, and Ratio trying desperately to pretend like it doesn’t affect him is as hilarious and heartwarming as it is tragic, and that dichotomy is why I love them so much. It’s fun and it hurts so so much because their interactions being this flavor of silly leaves almost no room for the sincerity they both desperately need from one another. 

AND GOD I NEED IT TO HAPPEN. RATIO MENTAL BREAKDOWN SCENE PLEAASEEE LET HIS WALLS CRUMBLE PLEEEEAASEE PLEASE PELADE PLEASEEEE EPLES DOLS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 

They’ve gotten closer and closer and closer and soon something’s gonna snap because they are so close yet so distant and if something doesn’t change the tension is just gonna boil over AND I NEED IT TO HAPPEN. I need more Ratio scenes I need more interactions with him I need him with his guard down I need him to profess out loud that he cares about Aventurine I need him to break please he needs it, it would be so good for him. It doesn’t even have to be from Aventurine, just Ratio snapping and revealing the fucking mess he is under his facade and not being rejected by the people he cares about for it is enough.

I honestly doubt it will happen in the story though, as much as I want it to. Although Aventurine’s character demo somewhat changed my mind against this, I feel like hoyo is like “ok they get the vibe between these two we can move on” and the shippers are left to extrapolate how this relationship would go beyond what it is now. As much as I want a breakdown scene for Ratio in general, it probably wouldn’t happen in a while but devs if you are reading this PLEASEEEE. 

The only time Ratio ever gets slightly out of his element is with Aventurine but I need it to go further because god it would be interesting.

Well I’ve deemed that enough yapping about why I love Aventio (for now 😈) so let’s talk about why people hate the ship and why most of the reasons behind it a fucking stupid. (Massive disclaimer of course you can dislike it it’s just a lot of the “oh it’s a horrible ship and anyone who likes it sucks” shit isn’t grounded in reality in the slightest and I’m tired of the slander)

“Ratio was racist to Aventurine”

Now this is a spicy one because if this post was made in 2.0 I would 100% agree with you (during that time I shipped a non canon version of them in which that did not happen because how dare u do my boy like that hoyo). However 2.1 changed a lot and I mean a lot, and basically reframed the 2.0 quests for everyone.

Essentially, Ratio and Aventurine were both acting in that argument scene, making the things Ratio said to Aventurine not how he really sees him, and actively something Aventurine wanted him to say, so you cannot blame him for what he said. I’m not even joking or exaggerating, retrospectively it quite literally does not make sense if you view it in any other way, and honestly even with just the knowledge of 2.0 the scene doesn’t make sense if played straight, so let’s get to why.

a) Ratio and Racism do not mix fundamentally. Ratio is a person who believes that everyone deserves and education regardless of background, that it is a scholars duty to help others achieve that, and no matter who you are, you are capable of intelligence, learning and becoming the best version of yourself, and that those qualities are just limited to geniuses.

THIS AND RACISM DO NOT MIX. “Oh yeah education and improvement is possible for everyone except this specific group of people for some fucking reason!!” Like not only would this scene being serious contradict Ratios entire character, the man who believes people should not be judged for their educational background judging Aventurine for his educational background (that’s actually what the Sigonian upbringing line meant, it was mistranslated in the EN version)??!?!! Make it make sense.

Moreover, half this perception also come from the fact that hoyo made the incredible writing decision of naming Aventurines planet after a slur for Romani people, so unfortunately literally anytime its name, Sigonia, is brought up you’re essentially saying a slur. It’s much worse in the CN version, in EN it’s not obvious at all, because our version of the slur (it starts with a g and ends with a y that’s all the hints you’re getting), doesn’t look like the version of the slur that the name for Sigonia was derived from, which is partly the source of this misconception as I’m pretty certain most people assumed Ratio (and by extension Sparkle) said a slur elsewhere in the conversation when in reality them referring to Avens ethnicity/background/planet IS the slur.

Anyways terrible writing decisions aside, Ratio supposedly being racist doesn’t just contradict his core motivation, it contradicts his job. He’s a scholar, for fucks sake, and racism is inherently illogical. Mmm yes I’m gonna base my identity around finding truth for myself and I will believe government and social propaganda about specific groups of people! Very logical, very scholarly, we all clapped. 

So yeah, doesn’t make sense on a character level, to the point that in 2.0 I concluded that they must be using Ratio as a plot device in that scene to deliver some of Aven’s backstory to the audience due to how OOC it was for him 😭. However I wasn’t necessarily wrong, Ratio was delivering some of Aventurines backstory to AN audience (not just us), and he was behaving OOC in the 2.0 scene, but it was on purpose.

b) The betrayal plan 

Aventurine forms a plan in which him and Ratio pretend to betray one another in order to sneak the Aventurine cornerstone into the dreamscape by replacing it with the Topaz stone (red herring + black hole scene dialogue implies she and Jade are there for other reasons) and the Jade stone (perfect dupe). 

Now this betrayal hinges on Sunday, their main antagonist buying it, actually believing that Ratio would betray Aventurine on a mission as important as Penacony, and it requires Sunday also buying that he is winning the whole time, that the loss of the cornerstones was somehow a fumble on Aventurine’s end rather than something he planned all along. 

So, they stage the 2.0 conversation. Ratio yells at Aventurine for losing the cornerstones, something which was part of their plan the whole time. He then insults Aventurine’s background allowing Aventurine to reveal key details of his past that Sunday would not have learned otherwise, which he uses in the trial against Aventurine. Seriously, Aventurine only found out he was the last Avgin when he became a Stoneheart, do y’all think Sunday summoned that info with his mind or something during the trial (like do you guys genuinely think Sunday read his wiki or something)

Moreover, Ratio not only insults him, but portrays Aventurine as useless, disposable to the IPC because he is apparently already sentenced to death. Why does he do this? Well, so Sunday feels confident enough to do the same to Aventurine. Seriously, sentencing an IPC member, especially a high ranking one to death is a risky move, even for someone as convicted as Sunday, he would need the confidence to do so and learning Aven might already die would give him that ability. 

Because well, it doesn’t matter that much if he’s already going to get disposed of in the near future. I also think the IPC plans to use Aventurine’s “death” as leverage against the family because they were pleased to hear of his death sentence according to Dr. Ratio, meaning a) he likely did not have one from them at the time, although in the past he was sentenced to death and b) even if Aventurine succeeded in getting the cornerstone his seeming loss in the rest of the conversation wasn’t actually a loss at all, getting sentenced to death/“dying” at the very least was part of the plan all along as the IPC could still use it as leverage if things went south.

Continually, Ratio treating Aventurine in the exact same sh1tty way the rest of the galaxy does perfectly slots him into the arrogant, uncaring scholar role, which Sunday knows are some of the most easily manipulated people in the galaxy, considering he tries to bribe Ratio with knowledge about Stellarons it seems he bought this idea hook line and sinker. Sunday isn’t even subtle about it either “I heard you and your companion haven’t been getting along lately” where did he hear that from? Ratio didn’t tell him, and even though we know Sunday was 100% watching the two of them on their little adventure pre-meeting him (the bird and hound statues) that scene hasn’t happened yet so where did he get that from?

Some other interesting proof for it is that the Final Victor lightcone likely depicts Aventurine trying to convince Ratio of this plan of his, the events of which must occur  pre-Penacony for several reasons, the least of which being that we just never see it happen on Penacony which if you think it did we would see it. Moreover lightcones are canonically condensed memories and the Final Victor lightcone released in 2.0, meaning it’s the memory of something that happened before then. 

All signs point to the 2.0 scene, the one people use to paint Aventio as toxic being staged. And I have so much more evidence for this, (Ratio would never agree to go without a plan, Aven clearly formed his pre-Penaocny, so much of the plan like Ratio opening the cornerstone box, which he can’t do up until the betrayal as it’s in Sundays possession, rely on him arriving knowing how to do so, the time discrepancies, the complete 180 in personality Ratio would have to do to go from distrusting Aventurine to putting his whole faith in him, etc), but I will reupload one of my old slideshows to elaborate more on it. Basically the one thing that people use to say it’s toxic is not true and is in fact a greater show of the trust between those two. 

“The shippers are all weird and racist” 

Now this one actually has some truth to it because yes there are some incredibly fucking weird Aventio shippers and I do not blame yall for disliking them.

HOWEVER, most Aventio shippers are normal and hate that shit just as much as you guys do. Like do you realize most shippers also really like these characters and have something insane called morals so they don’t automatically excuse racist fujoshi goobers just because they are making content for their favorite ship. Trust me someone doing that pisses me (and most other Aventio shippers) off significantly more than people who hate the ship. Also free Ratio from this shit man poor guy is getting mischaracterized as a slaveowner by his fans and haters 😭

And like guys, have you ever been in a fandom before, like ever? Weirdos are always gonna be weird and it’s not Aventio’s fault they are this months victims. For a fun little example of how gross other fanbases can be, one of the most popular Overwatch ships on ao3 is Genji Shimada X Hanzo Shimada WHO ARE BLOOD RELATED BROTHERS. THERES LIKE 300+ FICS OF IT, SHIMADACEST IS LITERALLY A TAG ON THERE. I WAS IN THE TRENCHES SEARCHING FOR GENJI HANZO ANGST FICS (Hanzo killed Genji it’s complicated doomed siblings will always get me) AND HAVING TO COMB THROUGH THOSE ABOMINATIONS IN THE PROCESS.

Like please I’m relatively new to fandom culture but yall cannot be acting like this is weird for fans to do, it’s weirdo behavior but it is not unique to the HSR fandom or even Aventio. And even if understandably this makes you not like the ship, don’t paint the people who enjoy it as being the people who do this kinda sh1t. It’s not our fault peak gets tainted by miserable creatures ok, let normal ppl have their harmless fun and stop lumping people together into a monolith. 

?????

Well that’s it that’s all the “valid” reasons people have for hating Aventio, at least the ones I can remember. Everything else is just personal opinion and not at all an objective reason.

“They’re so sibling coded!”

Anyways again obviously you can still dislike it not everything is for everyone, I really just wanted to make this post to demonstrate why I and many others like it, and why the reasons people use to say it’s problematic are incorrect. Feel free to call it mid, block it whatever I don’t care, just don’t harass shippers for having some harmless fun, because the characters aren’t real but the people who like them are and in doing so you are really just being a jerk for no reason. If you somehow hate Aventio and read this the whole way through I congratulate you on your ability to actually listen to other people, and regardless of whether you changed your mind or not I respect you for doing so anyways. Thanks for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts. 

#Hsr #honkai star rail #dr ratio #aventurine #aventio #raturine #ratiorine #golden ratio #tags for reach bc I need ppl to read this sorry #Also apologies to the Genji/Hanzo shippers for catching strays yall tend to mind your business and tag ur shit #So I can’t blame you that much for it even if I find it gross bc if I don’t wanna see it it’s very easy to not see it #I just wanted to give an example of how the hsr fandom is not unique in its weirdness #Ppl are horrible at tagging shit in this fandom #The next time I read an Aventio fic w surprise dubcon I’m gonna die #Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading bc this was sm fun to write #Aventio is peak we all cheered #aventurine hsr #dr ratio hsr

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends danny and jason miscellaneous thoughts: because why not, i'm reworking ch2 because it no longer fits with the remaster of chapter 1 so i've been thinking of them, and i love talking about them. which you should totally go read the remaster because its 26k words and im very proud of it and it barely got any attention.

First off Ellie vapes. Mostly because I think its real fucking funny. The first time Danny finds out about it he gets all up in arms about it. Ellie at first thinks its because she's smoking -- which, helloooo pot meet kettle, Danny has been smoking for a lot longer than she has.

And then he throws a curveball at her and says he's upset specifically because its vaping. Like no, no. Dammit, if you're gonna fuck up your lungs you gotta do it properly, none of this cotton-candy flavored nonsense.

He plays it up for laughs and it's largely non-serious 'i can't believe you're using a vape', if only to hide the fact that he is genuinely displeased with his little sister smoking. Self-destructive behaviors and bad habits are his thing, thank you very much.

But, well, he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he told her he didn't like that she was smoking. He's aware its bad for him, but habits are hard to break and he's not particularly keen to break this one in particular.

Danny bullies her relentlessly about it whenever she vapes in front of him. Like don't be a loser, Elle, carry a carton of cigs and a lighter in your back pocket like the rest of us degenerates.

[more under the cut]

Secondly: Danny's piercings? He got the first lobe piercings as a lost bet from Sam in junior year, and they did it in her room with a needle, a small bottle of blood blossom extract, and an apple. He broke out in hives for a week after thanks to the blood blossom, but it prevented the hole from healing up :)

He got the rest done professionally at a piercing place in the Ghost Zone. He asked Johnny where to find it. Sam and Johnny (and Kitty) nearly convinced him into getting snakebites. He got an eyebrow piercing instead.

Danny's undercut is also self-done, he did it because Technus shot at him with an ectoblast and it missed hitting him, but set his hair on fire. Danny got it out pretty quickly, but it left his hair lopsided and obviously looking like it got burned by something. He went to Sam for help after the fight. He liked the way it looks so he's kept it that way since.

-

Vlad brought up Jason once(1) in a taunt during a fight, and this was after Jason disappeared from the ghost zone, and Danny very. very nearly killed him on the spot. He hasn't done it since.

Which leads into the other thing: Grief Triggers! As I call them. All Banshees have them in this au.

While all banshees are, in general, in a permanent state of grief, Grief Triggers are a specific emotional response that can cause them to spiral into a state of intense, sometimes debilitating sorrow, and most of the time causes them to start wailing.

Banshees know what their Grief Triggers are and in general tend to try and build up a form of resistance against it so that, if something occurs that happens to trigger said grief, they can at least either get away from other ghosts to let loose or have enough control over themselves that it'll take more work to send them spiraling.

As expected, Jason is Danny's grief trigger. He's built up a pretty good resistance to it so that hey, talking about him and his death is easier than when Danny was fourteen. But a little more prodding and it will trigger, especially depending on who brings him up and how. (See: Vlad)

Grief Triggers also manifest relatively the same; with the induction of an intense state of grief and sorrow, but how a banshee acts on it can sometimes vary. Again, it depends on who triggers it and how. Some of them can get,,, violent, depending on how it happens.

Rath, this au's 'Dan', is a case of a banshee being put into the grief state caused by grief triggers and... never really leaving it. Which they usually do on their own, or with help depending on the severity of it.

At the time it happened Danny was going through the worst week of his life a second time: his best friend's ghost disappeared, then his family and friends all died right in front of him, and then he was stuck with someone who wasn't helping him through that grief.

He was already in the grieving state when Vlad tore out his ghost half. As a result, Vlad only made it worse. With that fury thrown into the mix, Vlad ended up getting torn apart and nobody else was close enough with nor could they get close enough to Rath to help him come down from the wailing state.

So Rath ended up getting stuck in a perpetual negative feedback loop of absolute misery, and well... drove himself insane. The rest of the world became collateral as a result.

-

the difference between Danny and Jason lies in the fact that Jason died, while Danny is dead.

-

I'm having more thoughts on the CFAU/TMWS universe banshees, actually.

Banshees are either born in the ghost zone from ectoplasm and are ecto-entities and work as banshees as how we know of them, or they're human spirits that died mourning someone and that grief was so intense that it turned them into a banshee. They're a little more rare.

These banshees typically mourn only one person, or sometimes they follow their Realm-born counterparts and choose a family to mourn for. Typically their own.

Ember is not a banshee; human spirit banshees are always mourning another person. However, her abilities emulate certain qualities of banshees: like the beautiful singing. But in comparison to an actual banshee, Ember's voice pales.

Does this mean Danny has the better singing voice? Yeah. Ember is incensed by this.

-

If canon Danny and CFAU/TMWS Danny met, I think canon Danny would be kinda unsettled or off put by CFAU.

CFAU Danny still has some pretty core Danny traits, at least I like to think so -- his general drive to help people just out of compassion for them (even if it manifests differently at first due to trauma), his wit and humor, his fear of failing to protect his loved ones, all of those resonate with canon Danny.

However, canon Danny, as far as I can remember and as far as his wiki goes, rarely gets extremely angry or emotional. He gets irritated and he gets annoyed but him getting mad I don't think happens super often. CFAU Danny is the angrier one between Jason and Danny. It's one of the things I consider a division point between him and canon Danny as it's a result of him growing up in Crime Alley. Canon Danny is canonically shy and meek prior to becoming Phantom, CFAU Danny couldn't be -- he'd be dead already.

CFAU Danny's anger would off put canon Danny, in my opinion. His anger, his smoking, and for lack of a better term, his bloodlust would unsettle him.

Like, for example, say CFAU Danny gets transported to a canon (or canon-adjacent) Danny's universe. He's staying with canon for a little bit as they brainstorm how to get him back home, and CFAU Danny goes to school with canon if only so that he's not stuck in the house all day.

Whether they try and pass CFAU Danny off as canon's cousin or if the town already knows that he's another version of Danny, it doesn't matter. Because insert Dash.

Dash who, in CFAU Danny's world, has since learned not to fuck around with Danny or the other kids because Danny has long since asserted that he will beat his ass if he does. 'Fucking around' always predates the 'finding out', and Danny is happy to act as consequence.

(As my father told me (paraphrased) when I was a small child and full of uncontrollable anger: "there's gonna be a day where you're gonna hit someone, and they're gonna hit you back")

And canon Dash, who is used to canon Danny who kinda just takes it because it means that he won't target other people, would see CFAU Danny. He'd notice the resemblance between him and canon, immediately try and go "oh new target!", and try and bully him the same way he does to canon. And Danny "I am the consequences of your actions" CFAU Fenton, instantly throws hands.

Just, CFAU Danny is kind but he's also Gotham-raised and full of bite; he's meaner than canon is. He's more ruthless too, especially in his ghost fights. The ease of which he slips into violence would, imo, discomfort canon. CFAU and Canon would eventually get along though, they're not so different that they'd be in constant clash of each other.

(Canon Danny and Danyal Al Ghul however,,, thats another post LMAO)

#cw smoking #cw vaping #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dead on main au #childhood friends au #cfau #dpdc #ugh i could have made this two parts probably #i've had a lot of thoughts on banshees in this au and how i could adjust them #what i didn't get into: the ghostly behavioral affects that danny has gone through since dying. the ghostly mood swings and #heightened emotions that he's had to work through for the last five years. #one of my favorite lines in the remaster is danny mentioning offhandedly that he's gotten better at his mood swings ever since being a ghos #but also implying that vlad has been on the receiving end of these mood swings before and it didnt end well for him #like yessss gurl go through permanent irrevocable changes of your physiology and psyche that has ultimately altered you from the person you #used to be. you are now no longer fully human yess gurl pick up those habits and behavioral changes that is common in the species you've #been turned into even if its only halfway. #iirc i don't think i included obsessions in this au and checking the remaster doc and the word doesn't show up once in all 26k words of it #so hey looks like we get this instead #danny's singing voice is permanently ingrained in my head as sounding like hozier #its very very funny to imagine my au dannys meeting canon danny or canon adjacent danny #cfau seeing dan: who tf is that?? | canon: um.. dan? our evil alternate future self? | cfau: THATS your evil future self?? #canon: yeah?? does yours not. look like that? | cfau: NO? #look if dan saw rath he would do a doubletake is all im saying and then would go “what the fuck what the fuck what the fUCK” #turning rath into a horror movie abomination is the fun part of this au and he's never even gonna show up #jason died but danny is dead. it lies in the past and the present. the was and the is. one of us got up and the other didn't

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

A Lesson in Love - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader (Referred to as Ms. T)

Word Count: 1.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Bob Being Adorable; Valentine's Day Shenanigans; Bob Deals with a Lot of Meddlers; Bob Has a Niece Named Phoebe; Reader is Female, but No Physical Description, Reader Referred to as "Ms. T" (The "T" stands for Teacher because I'm so Creative), No Use of Y/N

Summary: Bob has no plans for Valentine's Day. So, he gets set up to meet his niece's very cute teacher instead.

Master List

Bob didn’t really have any specific thoughts on Valentine’s Day. If he had a partner, he would do something special, of course, but he wasn’t bothered by the fact that he spent the last four Valentine’s Days in a row single. He was deployed for three of them and he didn’t have anything planned this Valentine’s Day. 

Quietly, he was honestly happy with it. Everyone seemed to put so much stress over a random weekday and he was content to avoid the chaos. But there were several people in his life who were not. 

And he was almost completely sure that his mom and Phoenix were scheming behind his back. 

“You still don’t have any plans tonight?” Phoenix asked Bob, who shook his head. 

“No. I was just going to do some more paperwork and probably call it an early night. Maybe I’ll watch that new documentary that Penny recommended.” 

“Please tell me that something in there is a code word,” Fanboy stated, causing Bob to roll his eyes. “Come on, Bob, just let one of us set you up on a blind date.” 

“I have a list,” Phoenix offered, but Bob shook his head. 

“A first date on Valentine’s Day? That’s a great idea! How could that possibly go wrong?” he returned sarcastically, causing Phoenix and Fanboy to share a look. 

But before anyone could speak again, Bob’s phone started to buzz. Fishing it out of his pocket, Bob saw his mom’s contact pop up and excused himself from the table. He answered the call as he walked out of the mess.

“Hey, Ma, what do you need?” 

“Why do you just assume that I’m calling because I need something, Robert? A mother can’t just check up on her son?” Bob waited for a moment before his mom added, “Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Goodbye, Ma.” 

“I only ask because I completely forgot that Phoebe’s parent-teacher conference is tonight and your father and I already made plans. I was going to have our neighbor, Ms. Abel, watch her for a few hours, but obviously she can’t attend the parent-teacher conference for us.” 

“What time is her parent-teacher conference?” 

“Seven.” 

“I’ll just watch Phoebe tonight. That's fine, Ma. I’ll pick her up from your house after work.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart! And maybe you’ll meet someone there—” 

“—Oh, sorry, Ma, there’s an alarm going off, I have to go. Bye.” 

“Robert Martin Floyd—” 

Bob hung up the phone and sighed to himself before heading back inside the mess. What was it about Valentine’s Day that made everyone lose their minds?

“Who was that?” Phoenix asked as Bob sat back down.

“My ma. She asked me to take my niece to her parent-teacher conference for her.” 

“That’s better than paperwork,” Fanboy conceded.

“Is her teacher cute?” Phoenix questioned. 

“Do you hear that alarm going off?” Bob suggested, causing Phoenix to roll her eyes. 

~~~~~

“Alright, you lead the way,” Bob stated, setting his niece on the ground from the car. “You’re the pilot here, Bee.” 

“Come on, Uncle Bob,” Phoebe called, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. “We’re going to be late!” 

“Bee, we’re ten minutes early.” 

But Bob still let his niece practically drag him through the halls of her elementary school. Phoebe marched him down the ‘First Grade’ wing and stopped in front of a purple door. But Bob held her back from going inside.

“There’s people in there. Just sit and wait for a little bit. We’re early.” 

Bob sat Phoebe down in one of the short chairs meant for children and sat in the similarly short chair beside her. And with his long legs, he looked rather comedic sitting there. Phoebe talked his ear off about all of the art that was hung up and Bob complimented her paintings. 

The sound of the door opening caused Bob to turn his head. A couple stepped out of the classroom, followed by Phoebe’s teacher, who was dressed in a soft pink dress with paper hearts that were clearly cut out by her students taped to it. She bid the couple goodbye before turning to Bob and Phoebe, who jumped up from her seat when she realized that it was her turn. 

“Hi, Ms. T!” 

“Hi, Phoebe,” Ms. T greeted the little girl kindly before turning to Bob.

The wizzo in question awkwardly got to his feet from the child-sized chair under Ms. T’s gaze and tried to subtly smooth his shirt down. Phoebe’s teacher was cute, though he wouldn’t mention that to Phoenix or his mom. She radiated kindness but had that distinct look in her eye that she could quickly knock anyone down a few pegs. 

Bob could quickly tell why Phoebe liked her so much. 

“And who did you bring with you?” Ms. T asked Phoebe. 

“This is my Uncle Bob,” Phoebe stated, pulling Bob forward. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Bob returned, holding out his hand for Ms. T to shake. “My parents couldn’t make it, so I’m standing in for them. I’m Phoebe’s uncle.” 

“I already said that,” Phoebe reminded Bob.

“Oh, of course. I’ve seen your names on some of her forms. Please, come in.” 

Bob took his seat at the front of the room and was relieved that he wouldn’t have to look ridiculous sitting in a child-sized seat again. Phoebe sat in the hallway, coloring and playing with toys, while Bob and Ms. T discussed her progress. 

Ms. T showed Bob a standardized worksheet that listed basic skills with comments about how Ms. T thought that Phoebe was doing. Bob listened to her comments on Phoebe’s performance intently and was relieved to find out that they were pretty much all positive.

“The only area that I think that Phoebe can improve on is her confidence,” Ms. T stated, causing Bob to nod. “She’s smart and a very thoughtful little girl. And if I thought she knew that I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t think she does. There’s nothing wrong with being quiet or shy, but I don’t want her to ever get discouraged or down on herself.”

“Shyness runs in our family,” Bob stated, causing Ms. T to smile softly. “My dad’s side. So, this isn’t a shock.”

“How is Phoebe at home?”

“She won’t stop talking or bossing me around, but I understand that school with kids her own age is a different environment from that.”

“Yes, it is. She’s very outgoing if it’s one on one or if she’s with her friends, but she just needs a little more support in public situations.”

“I could try and come to more of her school events. I’ll talk to my Captain about moving some things in my schedule,” Bob suggested, causing Phoebe’s teacher to nod. “Not that my mom isn’t here to support Phoebe, but I don’t think that she knows the meaning of the word ‘shy.’”

“I can understand that,” Ms. T mused, chuckling softly. “Well, I can give you a list of some class events that we have between now and the end of the year.” 

She got up from her table and walked to the back of the room to grab a piece of paper. Scribbling something on it quickly, she walked back over and handed the paper to Bob, whose eyes immediately dropped to the number that she had written down. 

“I’m assuming that your mom already has it, but that’s the number to my school phone. And my email too. And here is the kids’ schedule,” she continued, pulling out another piece of paper and handing it over to Bob. “You can feel free to call me during any of the breaks that you see where they’re in specials or lunch.” 

“Thank you,” Bob replied, smiling kindly in return. “I’ll let you know what events I can make.” 

They walked out to the hallway and Phoebe quickly popped up from her table and came trotting over. Staring up at her Uncle Bob with that distinct begging look that Bob always ended up cracking for, Phoebe glanced between Bob and her teacher.

“Ice cream?” 

“Yeah, I think we can get ice cream,” Bob agreed, kneeling down to Phoebe’s height. “But if grandma asks?”

“We got brussel sprouts.” 

“That’s right.” 

Phoebe smiled and bounced in place, eager to go. She bid goodbye to Ms. T, promising to see her tomorrow, before grabbing Bob’s hand and urging him away. 

“It was nice meeting you,” Bob called back to Ms. T, who laughed and waved goodbye to them. 

“I hope to see you again,” she returned before Phoebe tugged Bob around the corner. 

~~~~~

Four Months Later . . .

“Phoebe Floyd,” Ms. T called out.

The crowd of family members—and several supportive naval aviators—cheered as Phoebe jogged across the stage. Ms. T gave her a little badge to signify that she was now a second grader before gently nudging her to join her other classmates. 

And once they went through the rest of the kids, the day wrapped up. Bob picked up Phoebe and spun her around until his mom urged him to put her down so that they could take family pictures. After a few, Phoebe tugged on Bob’s hand until he bent down to her level. Phoebe leaned over and cupped her hands around his ear. 

“Ms. T needs help carrying stuff back to the classroom.” 

“Yeah?” Bob asked, causing Phoebe to nod quickly before leaning in again.

“Can I be the flower girl?” Phoebe added, earning a choked sound from her uncle.

Ms. T was in the middle of gathering the decorations when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning around, she smiled softly when she saw Bob jogging over to her. 

“Need any help?”

“I won’t turn it down.” 

“So, are you excited for summer vacation?” Bob asked Ms. T, who nodded in return. “Do you have any plans?”

“I was hoping that some cute naval aviator with these big dorky glasses and these big blue eyes was going to ask me on a date,” Ms. T stated, causing Bob to flush with embarrassment. “But I don’t know if that will ever happen.” 

“Well, maybe he was waiting for you to no longer be his niece’s teacher before asking you out,” Bob replied, taking the box from her hands. “Which reminds me, do you have any plans for Friday night?”

“I do now,” Ms. T replied with a wide smile. 

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm fanfiction #tgm #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob x reader #bob #bob floyd #bob fluff #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader

[ostermad-blog]

Ran a session 0 for Gubat Banwa last night and, like, I haven't fallen in love with a ttrpg since I was a kid. But every time I read a page or two of Gubat Banwa, I'm just delighted and flabbergasted and astounded. As Rath put it, "If it was just a phenomenal anticolonial setting it'd be sick. But the game also fucking rips." I have a warrior who kills people with a soccer ball, an asshole poet who forces folks to attack them and is also impervious to their attacks, and a fucking headtaker that picks a motherfucker to just delete before swiveling their gaze to their next victim.

Oh, and also the heir to the Dawn Eater Crown simultaneously ships two of them and wants to kill the person who murdered one of the pair's father (which happens to be the other person in the pairing). And the local Raj also ships the pairing. And one of the PCs is in love with a different one, not in the pair. And all of that just flowed out of character creation. I have to build a goddamn relationship chart to keep track of all the soap opera relationship stuff. It's incredible.

Y'all missed the kickstarter for a hard copy pre-order, but I'm sure you'll be able to get some once backer kit gets set up. For now, though, you can buy the pdf on itch. https://www.gubatbanwa.com/

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #Rpgsea #gubat banwa #indie ttrpgs #ttrpgs

[yawntutsyip]

shenanigans with the avatar kids:

warnings: cussing(?)

characters include: mostly Ao’nung and Lo’ak (mentions of Neteyam, Tsireya and Kiri)

this is my first time posting on here, ahaha 🧍‍♀️I hope you guys enjoy it. I just randomly came up with this in my head so it’s kinda random ig.

context: y’all are in high school, probably junior year.

Part two • masterlist

Getting in trouble with Ao’nung and Lo’ak:

Hey! Guys can you help me with the homework from Tuesday?” Lo’ak asked trying to get yours and Ao’nung who was sitting in front of you attention.

You both ignore him. You were busy texting Tsireya, Tsireya was ranting you about this girl in her class that she had to get partnered up with but she hates.

Ao’nung on the other hand was actually doing the work the teacher assigned because them basketball players gotta have good grades to play. (💪😨) plus his mom is scary asf.

“I know you two dumbasses can hear me, please helppppp. I’ll pay for lunch!” Lo’ak whines, again tries to get both y’all’s attention.

it’s the money he stole from Neteyam’s wallet this morning.

At this point you actually weren’t ignoring him but you were so invested in this gossip convo with Tsireya you had blocked out any surrounding sounds. (ppl with loud families would understand this lmao)

Lo’ak being fed up and tired he literally grabs his water bottle from his desk and chucks it at your head not giving a care if he hurt you or not.

With the gods on your side you lean over in time having to grab something out of your backpack and so the bottle ends up hitting Ao’nung in the back of his head.

Eyes widen you look at Lo’ak with a ‘WTF DID YOU JUST DO?!’ he’s like ‘BITCH WHAT DID I DO!?’

when you both look back at Ao’nung who looked mad asf. You immediately put your hands in surrender and point to Lo’ak

You ain’t about to feel that boy’s rath he’s evil, he got him mothers temper.

“Thanks a lot snitch- anyways this wouldn’t have happened it you guys would’ve payed attention when I was calling you. I need your guys help on Tuesday homework!”

“Lo’ak it’s literally Monday- that’s from last week…..”

“Oh…we’ll at least I’m still turning it in 😒”

“That’s your problem” Ao’nung says and grabs the water bottle and throws it back at Lo’ak which hit him in the face- like straight up smack in the forehead.

You cover your mouth as you were wheezing trying to hold back your laugh.

Lo’ak gets up and walks to Ao’nung grabbing his backpack, opening it going through every pocket and folder looking for the homework

“I know you have it in here”

Ao’nung is like “bro wtf give me my backpack do your own work”

Then now you have them playing tug-of-war with Ao’nung’s backpack.

They ended up pulling too hard and the bag rips open with everything flying out, papers, pencils, he’s probably got like 6 water bottles in his backpack. Idfk why, ask him not me-

The teacher gets mad- yells at them to clean everything up and go to the principals room.

At this point everyone’s eyes were on you three. How awkward 🧍‍♀️

You being the good friend you help clean up everything that fell putting it back in Ao’nungs backpack.

You smirk and wave bye 👋 😘 but then they both glare and then look at each other.

uh oh.

“Teacher, (Y/N) was on her phone this time. She wasn’t even doing the assignment.- Yeah she actually was the one who threw the water bottle” they both tattled on you.

You stand there mouth wide open, astonished. flabbergasted. shocked.

them bitches got you in trouble. The audacity.

Teacher is like “this so the 5th time that this has happened. go with them.”

So here you guys are now. In the principals office while the principal is not even surprised at this point, just deeply disappointed and tired.

Last week Lo’ak actually pulled the fire alarm so he could get out of a test. (Jake beat that boy’s ass ong)

Then there was the time (like just the other day tbh.) You were already having a bad day and that one bitch knew how to press your buttons and she finally set you off once she said something about Tsireya and Kiri.

You ain’t gonna let anyone talk bad about your girls. Ao’nung and Lo’ak + Neteyam all had to pull you off the girl.

Kiri and Tsireya were low key hyping you up to beat her ass

Neteyam is like “DON’T ENCOURAGE THIS BEHAVIOR?!?”

You did a pretty decent job on her, let’s just say she stopped bothering you, Tsireya and Kiri after that.

As for Ao’nung- well surprisingly he just gets in trouble because of you and Lo’ak making him mad or smth. Quote from him : I don’t start anything

For some reason if one of you get in trouble- it’s all your faults. “Well even if it wasn’t you who did it you should’ve been there to stop him” type stuff.

Principal is like “hey y’all who did it this time”

You and Ao’nung just sit and point at Lo’ak “it was him.”

This happened countless of times so Lo’ak already knows the drill

Lo’ak is pointing at himself as well

“Yeah yeah yeah It was me.”

#atwow #aonung x reader #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water #ao’nung x reader #atwow imagine #avatar x reader #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader #☆ — ao’nung ˖˚⊹ #☆ — lo’ak ˖˚⊹ #☆ — modern au ˖˚⊹

[preservationofnormalcy]

So I’ve got a sundial in garden, and I’ve had some troubles with what I at first thought were moles, digging up the garden. But I put out a camera and the culprits seem to be a family of creatures that look a bit like a badgers, a bit like lizards, and a bit like corkscrews that have set up a nest under the sundial.

What are they, and what can I do to stop them from gimbling holes all over my soil?

Did they show up around 4pm? Because if so, you've got Toves! That's amazing, there have been rumors for years that there's a breeding population in the US, but no one has been able to confirm it since sundials have gotten scarce on the ground.

Toves are a quasi-real, mostly nocturnal cryptid with parafictional origins, just like our office pet Frumie here. Ow, ow, Frumie, no claws!

They're pretty ow harmless, aside from the holes in your lawn, and you probably don't need to worry about a bandersnatch showing up and eating them, because you don't get bandersnatches in most of the US; the climate is ow wrong for them. Like I said earlier, the Slithy subspecies in Europe is the only confirmed one, but if we have evidence of a North American subspecies...

Be glad they’re not mome raths. I saw some when I visited HMES sites in London. God they’re loud.

I can only imagine! Norm, can you distract him while I get his claws that catch out of my sweater?

More to the point, if the gyring and gimbaling is becoming a significant problem, we can have someone come and relocate them, but as long as you've got a wabe in your garden, they're gonna come back. Why not make it a more inviting place for them; maybe set up a specific pit for them to do their gimbaling, rather than having them do it all over the yard? Leave out some nice soft toys for them to chew on, if you can. The same basic strategies you'd use to redirect a cat's attention are gonna work on these little guys.

Genuinely I'm floored, this is huge for the cryptozoological community; can you send us the footage?

Our local conservationist.

Oh, hush!

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #ask jenny #parafiction

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Merry Whumpmas 2023 Day 26: Shivering

Another direct continuation of Day 10: Hypothermia, this time from the Whumper's POV.

For more shivering whump, check out Day 4: Chills.

TW: imprisonment, hypothermia, vulnerability, implied nudity, noncon undressing (nonsexual)

Whumper shoved Whumpee into the cell, not even bothering to secure their bonds before slamming the door shut and searching for dry clothing. Whumpee, in their hypothermic, shivering state, had barely reacted to the temperature change when they finally returned to Whumper’s lair. They would not attempt to escape. Not that they would get very far if they tried.

Finding what they were looking for, Whumper returned to Whumpee’s cell. Whumpee had not moved an inch in the moments they'd been gone, instead curling up into a pathetic shaking ball. Whumper regarded them for a few long moments, arms full of clothes, towels, and blankets.

Whumpee’s lips had turned purple. On the trek back from the lake, their wet hair had iced over in a matted clump that, starting to melt, was dripping water all over the cell floor. Their body wasn't shivering so much as spasming as their muscles tried desperately to keep them warm.

Whumper could leave them like this. Alone, soaked to the skin in icy water, Whumpee would surely freeze to death before sunrise, even in the slightly warmer confines of the cell. Whumper could walk away and put all the dry things back in their places. They would still serve as a fine example for the others.

Nothing would stop them. 

No one would dare question what had happened. Whumper’s underlings were being paid not to ask questions, and the other prisoners would be too beaten down, too terrified by Whumpee’s tragic death, to speak against Whumper.

Whumper sighed through their nose. Death would be far too merciful for Whumpee. No, they would serve as a living reminder of what Whumper was capable of. The memory of the frozen lake would suffice to keep them in line.

Dropping the mess of clothing, towels, and blankets in a heap in the corner, Whumper crouched down beside Whumpee, careful not to get their pants wet in the puddle forming beneath them. Slowly, methodically, Whumper pulled untied the ropes around Whumpee’s wrists and began to strip off the soaked garments.

Whumpee whimpered, teeth chattering uncontrollably, and tried to recoil, but they were too weak from the ordeal in the icy water. “If you don't get out of these clothes,” Whumper hissed, tugging Whumpee’s shirt over their head, “you will die a very unpleasant death.”

“R—r—r—r—ra—-ra—rath—”

Whumper smirked as Whumpee struggled to form words. “Rather what? Rather die? No… I think not.”

Dropping the shirt to the floor, Whumper continued removing Whumpee’s clothing until it all lay in a pile at their feet, a soaking wet and naked Whumpee curled up next to it. Rummaging through the heap in the corner, Whumper found the towels and carefully began to pat Whumpee dry, reveling in how they cringed and flinched away.

Not another word was spoken, but the dark look on Whumpee’s face as Whumper finished dressing them in the set of clean clothing brought Whumper more amusement than harsh words ever could. New ropes went around Whumpee’s wrists and ankles; and Whumper even generously allowed Whumpee to keep a blanket, as their hair was still damp, their lips still purple.

Gathering Whumpee’s old clothes and the now-wet towels, Whumper left the cell and locked it behind them. Fabric rustled, and Whumper glanced back just in time to see the blanket hit the bars and fall to the ground. Whumper blinked, looking from the fallen blanket to Whumpee, who crouched in the corner of the cell, glaring at Whumpee with such malevolence Whumper could almost taste it.

Whumper inhaled sharply. How dare they—!

They closed their eyes and exhaled. When they reopened their eyes, Whumper worked their face into an expression of simple annoyance and disappointment, a clear contrast from the bubbling rage that made their fingers curl into fists and tightened their jaw. Stooping, Whumper pulled the blanket through the bars and added it to the top of the bundle in their arms.

Whumper did not spare Whumpee another glance as they left, no matter how much they wanted to drop everything and show Whumpee exactly how the consequences of their actions would affect them. As Whumper continued down the hallway, they congratulated themselves on their restraint. Whumpee would see their punishment in due time.

All in due time.

#merry whumpmas #my writing #whump #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #stubborn whumpee #hypothermia whump #hypothermia #shivering #vulnerable #nakedness whump #implied nudity #creepy whumper #imprisonment #imprisonment tw

[reluctanttrabbit]

its secret santa time!! woo!! @hearts4ggy BOO CAROUSEL JUMPSCARE 💥💥💥💥

originally i planned to make a fic AND draw a scene from the fic. but my dreams slowly crumbled as i realized i would have so much homework this month AND i also really just wanted to get this fic out before christmas bc i know many people are with family at this time

so heres the fic instead!! maybe i can finish up the art part of the gift this week.. :3

the full fic is also below the cut incase u wanna read it this way ^_^

Carol of the Bells

3,347 words

3:56. 3:57. 3:58.

Every time Michael glanced at the clock, it stared right back. Almost like it's taunting me, he thought.

Out of all of the days in the year, why did William Afton have to work on Christmas Eve and leave Michael to look after his siblings?

To be fair, it was a lose-lose situation either way. He could either spend the day stuck with his stupid siblings, or ditto but with his stupid father.

So here he was, baking cookies with Elizabeth and Evan in the afternoon.

"I.. I think we used too much sugar," a small voice piped up. It was Evan, who had just grabbed the egg carton out of the fridge and peered into the bowl the siblings were using. Sure enough, sugar was littered all over the kitchen counter. Evan guessed that was Elizabeth's handiwork.

"Good! Maybe you'll get some cavities from it, and you'll talk even less, then," Elizabeth jeered at her brother.

"Liz, these cookies are for all of us. if anything, you're getting cavities too." Michael sighed as he pushed her aside to swipe the eggs out of Evan's hands. she let out a small yelp of annoyance, which Michael had ignored. He turned to his phone propped up on the counter with the recipe on his screen.

"Ok, eggs and vanilla extract." he said aloud to himself. Michael looked to the counter, but the vanilla extract was nowhere in sight. What? That couldn't be right.

"We got vanilla extract, right? who has it?" Michael instantly turned to Evan, who jumped a little and showed Michael his hands. Empty.

Next, he turned to Liz, getting more agitated at the second. Once he looked in her direction, he noticed three red cups set on the counter, as Elizabeth wore a suspicious smile and eyed the cups. Michael simply wasn't having it, and knocked all 3 cups off the counter as if he were a cat. He deadpanned towards Elizabeth as she watched the vanilla extract fall out of the middle cup and onto the floor.

"Hey! What's your problem today?!" she cried, as Michael went to pick up the extract.

"My problem," he growled, "is that I'm stuck with you two today, because our father can't even manage to take the day off of work for CHRISTMAS EVE."

"Well, maybe he's getting some last minute gifts.. or something!" she said, trying to excuse her father.

"Bullshit, theres nothing open today! It's a holiday, he shouldn't even be at work in the first place!"

"Don't swear at me!"

"I'll do whatever I want! Dad isn't here, I'm in charge."

"Y'know, i bet you the reason you don't wanna spend Christmas Eve with us is because you'd rathe-"

The house phone started ringing, and the two stopped fighting. Michael sent a cold glare to Elizabeth, as if he was telling her this wasn't over, and he walked over to pick up.

"Hey, is mike here?" a voice rang through the speaker. it was Charlie!

"Uh- yeah, what happened?"

"What do you mean what happened, its Christmas Eve! we're coming over for a bit, so we can keep you guys company.. since your dad isn't here, y'know." there was a slight laugh in her voice, but it settled once she mentioned that William wasn't home. Right, how could Michael ever forget.

"Oh, well.. sweet. See you guys in a bit, I guess. bye." Michael put the phone down. He hoped Charlie couldn't tell that there was still hints of anger in his voice, despite their call being so short. He let out a sigh, which somewhat turned into a growl, and turned around to look back at his siblings. Evan had started to pick the extract up and clean it with some paper towels. Good. At least he was managing to be helpful.

hearing the news that Charlie and Henry (and hopefully Sammy) were coming over eased Michael's thoughts. maybe Henry could be the one to deal with his siblings, and Michael could get a break from these brats. Evan offered the extract to Mike, and he picked it up, turning his phone back on and reading over the recipe once again. Liz had left to go sit on the couch and cool off from her and Mike's previous squabbling. Hey, I'm not complaining, Mike thought to himself.

"Cass, you wanna grab the mixer for me?" he asked. Evan nodded, and went to search the cupboards until he pulled the machine out, with the cord dangling and nearly tripping him.

Evan hauled the machine up onto the counter. He brushed his hands off on his pants, and stood idly waiting for Michael to do the next step. He fidgeted with his sweater sleeves, and peeked around the corner of the fridge to look at Elizabeth. she had a pillow in her hand as she hit it repeatedly against the floor.

Evan had a hunch that pillow was supposed to be michael.

He turned back to face Michael. the boy jumped as the mixer started and the ingredients splashed onto his face. He grumbled, but held the bowl steady and let the mixer do its job.

Evan took advantage of the loud whirring from the mixer, and snuck off into the living room to stay with Elizabeth. Her eyes narrowed as he walked into the room, and put the pillow down.

The mixer slowed down and Michael went to wash his hands. He looked around for evan, only to find that the boy wasn't there.

"Hey, I still need help here!" he shouted.

"…"

"Fine."

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

Michael cringed with each bite he took of the cookie. Something had definitely went wrong once he was left alone to bake. Was it too sweet? Or too bitter? Were the ingredients expired?

"Ok, these… these cookies taste like shit." Michael put the cookie (could it even be called that?) back down on his plate and took a sip of water. he heard Elizabeth and Evan laugh, as they had already rejected their cookies.

"When will Charlie and Henry get here?" Evan asked, blankly staring out into the window. There were slight flurries outside- the thought of a white Christmas made Michael subconsciously smile. It had reminded him of better days - days where all he would do in school was make crafts and bring them home to his mom and dad. He remember the way his mother's nose would crinkle as she smiled and put the poor excuse for an ornament up on their Christmas tree.

"…"

"I'm gonna go get my sketchbook. Just… do whatever." Mike nearly bolted up as he dodged the question and tossed the tv remote to Elizabeth, heading for the stairs. She turned on the tv and started to flip through channels. There was nothing that interested the two. News channels, baby channels, reruns of old movies, the shopping channel; and a few kids channels, but none of them were playing anything good. Elizabeth decided on one that was about these weird CGI Christmas dogs.. it wasn't like she would actually pay attention to it.

"All of these shows suck!" she huffed in frustration. "Why aren't they playing, like, My Little Pony or something?" she went to lay back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.

Evan had wanted to answer, because its Christmas and the only thing that's on right now are Christmas movies. But he was too lost in his own thoughts to interject. He remembered the look in Michael's eyes as he went up to grab his sketchbook. The teen looked like he was on the verge of tears. Evan felt as if he had seen a cryptid.

"Liz, um.. do you ever think about why Mike gets angry at us?" he turned to his sister.

"..Well, I don't think about it on a daily basis, but I know the answer. You should too." she sighed, crossing her arms.

"I mean, obviously I know why, but… why does he get angry? We only fight with him because he fights with us. Why does he get to be the angry one? Why does he see us as brats and then get to act like that?"

Elizabeth stayed silent. They both did for a minute.

"Maybe he never moved on. I don't know." she sighed, now giving more thought to the conversation. "I don't remember much of her. Maybe the problem is that he remembers too much."

Maybe the problem is that he remembers too much. The words repeated in Evan's mind. what did that even mean? It got louder and louder, and-

"Charlie!" Elizabeth cried as she shot up to run towards the window. She was careful to not scratch herself on the Christmas tree right beside the window, and peered through the snow, which had begun to fall faster than a few minutes ago. The headlights of Henry's car disoriented Liz, but she tried her best to get a good look.

Evan stared at the ground for a few more seconds, before getting up and opening the door for them. Henry and Charlie stepped out of the car, gift bags in each of their hands. Elizabeth nearly pushed Evan out of the way as they came in the door.

"Merry Christmas, you two!" Henry said, imitating the voice of Santa Claus. He definitely has the beard for the role, Evan thought.

Elizabeth jumped into Charlie arms, giving her a hug.

"Hey Liz!" the teen said, ruffling her hair. "Guess who these are for?" she said as she held up the bags in her arms. Elizabeth gasped and reached for them, but Charlie swiped them away.

"Hey, not until tomorrow." she laughed. Her and Henry walked towards the tree to put their gifts down and take off their coats. Henry paused as Charlie set down her bags.

"You kids only got 5 presents?" Henry asked, concerned. "Now I don't want to shame your dad, but I know he has more than enough money for you guys. There's no way he's putting all that into the mall..." the man trailed off as he answered his own question.

"Well, good thing we delivered, huh?" Charlie said, trying to keep the mood up. "C'mon Liz, let's go find a Christmas movie to watch." the 2 girls walked to the couch as Charlie flipped through their DVD collection.

Henry and Evan sat in silence as Henry looked around and rubbed his hands.

"So, where's your brother?" Henry asked, looking around the house.

"He ran upstairs." Evan answered, looking up at them as if Michael would appear there in seconds. But Evan knew better. He was probably locking himself in his room for the rest of the night. He turned back to look at Henry, but couldn't quite read his expression as the man grumbled something to himself.

"..Well, I see you made cookies! Mind if I take a bite?" Henry grinned as he walked over to the plate on the kitchen counter. He had moved too fast, as Evan was just about to respond until Henry took a bite out of the poorly iced mess. His face went sour, and Evan couldn't help but snicker.

"We- we didn't do the best, I'm sure you can tell." Evan said as he watched Henry put the cookie back down on its plate.

"No worries, kid. I guess it's Santa's problem, not ours." Henry sighed and walked off into the living room. But Evan stayed put as his gaze wandered to the stairs.

He wasn't actually going to stay upstairs, was he?

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

Evan walked down the hall, peering in each room. Every step he took made the floorboards creak, making Evan walk lighter than usually. He passed by his room, and the door was closed. He looked at all the drawings scattered on his door, some drawn by Michael and some drawn by himself.

Elizabeth's door was decorated with stickers and one of those "no boys allowed" signs -- a gift that she put up as a joke. Evan continued walking. The bathroom doors were both open, and Michael's door was locked shut. his door held no drawings, or no stickers. Just a door handle and peeling paint. Evan held his ear close to the door, but couldn't hear any signs of Michael. He was most likely in there, but Evan had to be sure.

..That left only 2 rooms to check.

If Evan wasn't stepping lightly before, he was definitely floating by now. Even just standing by the door of William's office was enough to make him remind himself to breathe. The door stood tall and foreboding, somewhat like his dad. The light was off, so Michael couldn't be in there. Evan turned to the room at the end of the hall.

William's room.

Of course, it had never been just William's room. It used to belong to their mother too, once upon a time. Or more like a few years ago. but it seemed like Evan's instincts were right, as the lamp on the bedside drawer was on. Michael was right beside that drawer leaning against the bed and burying his head in his arms. There was a book by his feet, sitting upside down with pictures falling out of it.

Something told Evan that the book wasn't Michael's sketchbook.

Evan walked closer to Michael, and the boy lifted his head up.

"Screw off Cass, get out." his throat was raspy; Michael sounded like he was tired. His voice was the quietest it had been in years.

Evan stayed silent. He moved closer.

"..Are you deaf, I said--"

"I heard you, and I'm not going to let you yell at me anymore!" Evan's voice wavered as he spoke.

"Oh, what, did you--"

"All day you've been rude to me AND Elizabeth, and you're always just rude in general! Why do you get to just- why do you not realize that when mom died, it.. it hurt us too. But you don't get that, because you're mad at our father, and.."

Evan felt tears welling up already. Why was he such a crybaby?

Evan and Michael both fell silent as the two thought of what to say.

"..You really suck at yelling." Michael grumbled as he picked the book up. Evan wiped his tears and tried to compose himself so he could continue his rant, but he finally noticed what the book was.

It was a photo album.

Evan took a breath as he moved closer to sit beside Michael.

"In a way, you aren't wrong. I am mad at our father. Because he doesn't give a shit about us or about mom's death-"

"Liar! Dad talks about her all the time! You wouldn't know that because you barely try to talk to him."

Michael ignored him as he flipped through the pages. Their parents didn't take many pictures of themselves, but there were lots of family photos. A picture of Michael on a high chair as he eats baby food. His hair sticks out in every direction. Carol is cleaning his face, smiling for the camera as she tries her best not to laugh. A beach day photo where she's putting sunscreen on a younger Elizabeth as Michael and Evan splash around in the water. Michael and Carol at a school dance.

Slowly but surely, Michael and Evan's mom started to appear less and less, until the last picture was of William and Henry at the opening of the Pizzaplex.

"It's like she's.. slowly disappearing. From the book, from us-- And somewhere deep down, I WANT her to. So I don't have to think about her everyday. So the pain is easier." Michael sobbed. Evan's eyes widened as Michael was crying real, live tears. Was this a prank?

"I can't remember anything else from our childhood except her."

As awkward as it was, Evan shifted closer to rest his head on Michael's shoulder. Michael didn't push him off. He didn't yell at him. It just happened. And that was enough.

They sat in silence for a good while.

"..It feels weird to see you cry. It's like our personalities were swapped or something. Like 'Freaky Friday'." Evan muttered in a soft voice. Michael sniffed and wiped his eyes as he let out a genuine snicker. It wasn't in a mocking or sarcastic tone, for the first time in a while. Evan still wasn't used to this.

"Maybe it should happen more. For the both of us. I can... cry more, and you can stand up to me more." Michael admitted. He sighed and rested his head on Evan's, like they were 2 brothers who actually liked each other.

Someday, maybe that could happen.

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

The rest of the night flew by. Evan and Michael finally went back downstairs to join everyone else and have a movie marathon, along with some TV dinner. They talked, and danced, but eventually Henry and Charlie had to drive back home. Henry allowed them to open at least one Christmas present before they left, and Elizabeth made sure to pick a big enough gift. Because of course, Henry wouldn't allow her to pick the box that DEFINITELY wasn't a new toy playset.

Michael got a set of watercolors, Evan got a set of pajamas, and Elizabeth got a 16" Glamrock Chica plushie. The Emilys went back to their house, and the Aftons got ready for bed.

William Afton was still nowhere in sight.

Falling in and out of sleep, Michael lay in his bed, snuggled up in a pile of 3 blankets with the fan running. It was peaceful.

That was, until Elizabeth creaked the door open and poked at Michael. And when he didn't respond to pokes, she rocked him back and forth.

"... What, Liz? It's.. I don't even know what time it is, why are you still awake?" he mumbled.

"Me and Ev can't sleep," she whispered, Glamrock Chica plushie in her hands.

"Well, that's not my problem, is it? If you're awake, Santa won't give you any presents. He knows when you're sleeping," Michael told her.

"Exactly! We need you so we can fall asleep, and then Santa can come! Get up already!" she dragged the boy out of his blanket nest as he protested. Evan had been waiting by the stairs, with a nightlight in one hand and a Fredbear plushie in the other. The 3 siblings walked down the stairs as the Christmas tree shined as bright as a fire.

"Why are we going in the living room?" Michael nearly tripped on his feet as Elizabeth led him around the house. He looked down at Evan, who was just as confused.

"Aw, wait... Michael, I'm gonna go take your blankets. Help Evan move the chair closer to the tree, okay?" she said in a hurry as the girl ran back up the stairs. Evan set his nightlight down, and Michael finally understood what Elizabeth was planning.

"I'll get some chairs," Michael muttered to himself.

Soon enough, Elizabeth had hurried back down with blankets in hand. Evan had knocked over a few things while he pushed the chair, but they'd fix it in the morning. Michael spaced out the chairs, and Elizabeth draped them all on top of each other.

It wasn't the best, but it was a feasible blanket fort. Michael took the pillows off of the couch and threw them into the fort, as the 3 settled in and got comfy. Michael propped up one more pillow for his head, and closed his eyes.

"Now go to sleep," he told his siblings. In twin movements, Elizabeth and Evan rested their heads on Michael's shoulders. He could have pushed them off, but he was getting more tired at the second. He listened to their breathing get slower, and Michael laughed at the thought that 'visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.'

Michael started to feel himself drifting away, and just before he fell asleep, he swore he heard the jingling of bells and something on the roof.

Maybe he made that part up in a sleepless haze. Maybe it was really his father's car engine.

#vanny shenanigans #my writing #< oughhh my first time using that tag... #afton kids #michael afton #elizabeth afton #crying child #evan afton #henry emily #charlie emily #christmas fic #christmas #fnaf #fnaf fic #radioroxx gift exchange

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Bit of a lactation kink in this one.

----------flashback: Red Keep; the morning after------------

You stirred from sleep, feeling the effects of last night's go beneath the sheets. You look to see Daemon was still sleeping on his side of the bed. He looked peaceful.

You thought back to last night; not the sex part but the part before. You've been thinking about how he manipulated you into his bed again, even when you had stood your ground.

You were starting to notice this was something of a pattern with this man. He would do something that upset you, then he 'd pull you in with the purpose of bedding you, and you would pull away, putting your defenses up, making it clear you were not going to let him have his way with you. He would then say things to console you, make it seem like he was remorseful, which would lead to you to give him what he wanted.

This isn't to say of course you didn't enjoy these moments, they felt good, but it was becoming increasingly frustrating that every time you set up a boundary with Daemon, he'd do what he could to cross it or break it down.

It didn't help that he seemed to be in a vulnerable position last night from the loss of family.

 

On the other hand, this has been your pattern with previous men in your life back on the Continent, sans the one before Daemon; you tried to act in control most of the time, but when they needed a shoulder to cry on or needed to be taken care of, it felt like it would be up to you to pick up the pieces. This had often led you to bear the emotional burden of most of these relationships, and more often then not it also would lead to those men crossing boundaries you had previously set up.

And here you were in a similar position with the sliver blonde man sleeping right next to you.

It also didn't help how hot the sex was.

It was all very confusing, but one thing you knew was certain.

This was not healthy.

Question now is this a pattern you can break before he pulls you back in again.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you feel Daemon stirring from sleep. You took this moment to get out of bed and pull your small clothes on.

"Where are you going, Little Lark?" you hear him ask.

You look to see the man with his hair sprawled out on the pillow, tired though content. It was almost childlike if you were being honest. It was almost irresistible.

"...nowhere," you decide to tell him, laying down on the bed, letting him pull you to his side.

So much for breaking bad habits.

"I want to apologize for my behavior last night," you hear him say as he strokes your arm and shoulder, "I, uh, before I saw you, I had just been in a meeting with my brother and well...it seems I have been disinherited from the Iron Throne."

"Oh," Your eyes widen a bit, and you sit up a little in response.  You weren't really sure what to think of that; Westeros wasn't your home, so you didn't really have much of a stake in their politics. However, knowing Daemon, you weren't exactly sure if he would've been well suited to be king.

Viserys may be overly passive in his rule, but Daemon...well along with his hedonistic indulgences, Daemon could also be brash and reckless. Not to mention his violent tendencies and childlike tantrums when he didn't get what he wanted.

He was already surrounded by enablers and sycophants (you being one, reluctant as you are to admit) who only gave him a slap on the wrist  when he stepped out of line, you could only imagine how much worse it could potentially be if he ever wore the crown.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you say, not knowing what else you could possibly say, "that...that couldn't have been easy for you to hear."

"There's more," Daemon continues, sitting up, "the king has commanded me to return to Runestone...to my wife," he says 'wife' with venom in his tone.

"You never did mention why you hate Lady Rhea Royce so much," you bring up, letting Daemon turn you around so he could sit you in his lap, "I'd rather not discuss this," Daemon sternly tells you, placing a kiss on your shoulder. "Can you at least indulge me?" you ask, "why the animosity?"

"...I did not choose to marry her," Daemon admits to you, "I had no say in the matter. But I think my Bronze Bitch is happier for my absence. Besides," he presses his nose into your hair, breathing in your scent, "in the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of the women. And believe me...the sheep are far prettier."

"Thanks for that lovely image," you cringe, "so...when are you to leave?" "Today," Daemon answers, "Soon in fact," he places a kiss on her head, "I want you to come with me." "To Runestone?" your eyes widen, "and your wife?" "No," Daemon shakes his head, "to Dragonstone. We can on dragonback. Ever seen a dragon before?"

"I have," you tell him, "on the Continent as a matter of fact. A gold dragon. I think I've seen the dragons fly by over King's Landing a few times since I've traveled here. I remember one of them was huge...and red."

Daemon smirked, feeling pride that you remembered that particular dragon. He coaxes you off his lap so you and him could get dressed.

Once fully clothed, he takes you by the hand and leads you out of the Red Keep and into the dragon pit.

-------------present day: Kaer Morhen-------------------

You had just finished feeding Aemma, patting and rubbing her back and holding her. You place a kiss on her head, admiring the silver hair that was growing on her head. No matter how many times you've looked at her, it still amazed you how much of her father she had inherited.

Part of you still had concerns if her father would somehow find out about her; what would happen if he did? What would he do?

"May I come in?" you hear Geralt knock on the door to your shared room. "We kinda share this room already Ger-bear, you can come in whenever you want," you say. Geralt chuckled a bit as he walked in.

"You want to hold her?" you ask, to which Geralt nods and takes Aemma from her arms. You couldn't help but stare a bit, admiring the way the witcher held your daughter in his strong, rugged arms as she smiled at him.

"I appreciate you looking after her this morning so I could rest a little longer," you tell him. "It was no trouble," Geralt tells you as Aemma grabbed part of his shirt with her little hand, tugging it lightly.

"Geralt, can I ask you a question?" you ask to which Geralt nods, "why did you help me? Aemma isn't your daughter and...you've done so much for me, for the both of us, I don't know why." "Maybe I could never say no to a woman in need," Geralt jokes. "Geralt, I'm serious." "You've spent the better part of the last year or so in this foreign land and you came all this way, looking for help," he answers, "it wouldn't have been right to turn you away."

"Oh," you say, reaching out to rub Aemma's back. "...how come you've never asked about Aemma's father?" "You left the man for a reason, it was something you clearly didn't want to talk about," Geralt answers, "I wanted to respect that." "Aren't you at least a little bit curious?" you bring up, "cause your brothers and Vesemir have certainly made their curiosity known every other day or so." "Do you want me to talk to them?" Geralt asks, "have them let off?" "No, it's fine," you assure, "I don't blame them for wanting to know. Kaer Morhen...isn't exactly the most conventional place to raise a baby."

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Geralt attempts humor, "many a child has come and gone through this place...true not all of them survived, but other than that, it's a decent place to raise a child."

You laugh a little at that dark humor. "I suppose I am a little bit curious about who this man is," Geralt confesses, "or more specific I'm curious about the reason you left him, despite the condition you were in when you did."

He noticed the way you looked away a bit, like it wasn't a pleasant memory, "Did...did he abuse you in any way?" "No," you shake your head, "it wasn't like that. He'd...he had a bit of a temper that much I'll admit, and there were people who faced his wrath, but he never struck me." "But you still didn't want him to find out about Aemma," Geralt points out. "It's not that simple," you tell him, "Our...relationship, it wasn't a healthy one. He...I would set up boundaries and he would always cross them. And I would let him. He wasn't always faithful either and..."

"And?" "He would act like a child sometimes," you cryptically say, "He would be a boy in a man's body...and I was his mother he'd stick his prick in."

"Sounds like your type," Geralt mutters, making you glare at him. "Oh, you're not wrong there," you admit in defeat, "I'm not sure how much my brother's told you about my bad taste in men." "Jaskier may have mentioned the last man you were with when you and I first met," Geralt tells you. "Yeah," you sigh, "that's always been my pattern with men...with people in general in think. I compulsively take care of others when they need it, even when I can barely take care of myself. It was always one person at a time though...I couldn't even bare to think about what it would be like having to take care of two at a time." 

"Hmm," Geralt nods, noticing Aemma was about to fall asleep, so he started rocking her. "You're probably the only man I've known who hasn't been like that," you admit, leaning to rest on his shoulder, "I've always taken care of people. It feels nice to have someone take care of me for a change."

"Have you ever wondered why that has been the case?" Geralt ask. "Uh...I guess it's been that way for as long as I can remember," you admit, "did Jaskier ever tell you what our home life was like before he went to Oxenfurt and traveled as a bard?" "Jaskier's never really mentioned anything about that," Geralt says, "it's only just recently I found out that wasn't his actual name...and the fact he's actually a Viscount."

"Well," you say, "While my dear brother Julian was out having fun and doing his thing, I stayed at home and ran all the estate finances and answer any requests or petitions from people on our lands." "Isn't that something your father was supposed to do?" "Oh he would," you shrug, "Not often as he should've given that he had trouble bending his elbows way too much," you make a motion like you were drinking from a wine bottle for emphasis, "needless to say, I would step up and cover for him...a lot. Jaskier didn't know, how could he? He barely kept in contact during his time in Oxenfurt and after. I didn't say anything cause I didn't want him to worry. Even after he came back after our father died, he still doesn't know the extent of how much of the responsibilities I took up just to keep the estate running."  

"....it must've been quite a burden for one so young," Geralt says with empathy. "You have no idea," you say, "can I tell you something else? When Jaskier came back, when he got our house in order and hired a major domo to run it, I had never felt so relieved. It was like I was carrying a boulder over my shoulders this whole time and it just been lifted off. First thing I wanted to do was go out and do everything my brother did."

Geralt nods, placing a kiss to your temple. You notice Aemma had fallen asleep in his arms. You reach out to take care. She stirs a bit, but you rub her back and quietly shush her till she was still again. You take her to her crib, placing a kiss to on her head as you place her down.

You turn to Geralt, who was sitting on the bed. You approach him and sit on his lap, legs on each side of him. You and him start to kiss.

He wraps his arms around you while you card your hands through his hair. You pull back a little, sighing as you did so, "I regret a lot of things," you tell him, "one of them was leaving you before." "We were in different places that time," Geralt says. "Yeah I know," you nod, "I don't regret what we had, nor do I regret rekindling this spark between us again. I don't regret having Aemma, and I am ever so grateful you let me stay here and help me with her."

"I don't regret this either," Geralt says to you.

You kissed again, it being slow and passionate. You feel Geralt pull your top off, including the top part of your small clothes. He kissed your neck then moved to your breasts. You moan in response.

You feel wrap his mouth around a nipple, making a sucking motion as he did so. "Uh, Geralt, you shouldn't-" you were about to warn, but you feel your milk squirt out in response. Geralt groaned, (pleasantly) surprised at the reaction. He pulled away.

You giggle a bit, "I'm still producing milk," you say, but notice the way his pupils were blown out, like it was actually something he enjoyed. You look down to see the bulge in his trousers, "Ooh, Geralt, didn't know you were into this," you smirk.

Geralt looked down a bit, feeling somewhat embarrassed. It did feel good; it was something neither of you have tried before, and now he was wondering why.

He noticed the droplets of milk still leaking out, something that didn't go unnoticed by you. You decide to play into it, "Want some more?" you ask in a sultry voice.

Geralt nods and continues where he left off.

---------flashback: the dragon pit---------------

"So, we're going to see your dragon," you say as Daemon leads you to the pit. "Caraxes," Daemon confirms.

"Does he talk?" you ask. "What?" the prince turns to you confused. "Does Caraxes talk?" you elaborate, "dragons talk, don't you know?"

"What fucking nonsense are you going on about?" Daemon scoffs, "dragons don't talk." "The one I met on the Continent did," you counter, "he could transform into a human too."

Daemon only scoffed again, having a hard believing that dragons, beautiful and magnificent as they are, were possibly capable of such feats.

Once inside, you wait in anticipation for this mysterious beast to appear. You hold your breath a bit when you hear the low growls reverberate around the pit. The dragon keepers were there, spears in hand, it made you wonder if something was going to happen.

Right on cue, the red dragon had appeared, long and slender. You stood back as Daemon approached. You were in awe as there were no words to describe how you felt being in this creature's presence. Caraxes was a majestic wonder to behold; and much larger than you would've anticipated. The gold dragon you met back on the Continent came nowhere near this one's size.

Caraxes lowered his head, allowing Daemon to come closer and stroke the side of his head. You hear Daemon speak to the dragon in his native High Valyrian.

It was clear there was a bond between these two.

The prince turned his gaze to you, extending a hand as a beckoning gesture. "I think I'll stay where I am," you stay. "He won't bite, Little Lark" Daemon assures.

You take a deep breath and slowly approach the dragon.

Caraxes slowly stretched his neck towards you. You stop, staying still and holding your breath again as he came closer, taking a whiff of you, his breath feeling rather warm.

The dragon tilted his head a bit like a dog, something you would've found endearing if you weren't internally screaming right now. Caraxes then touched his snout to your middle area, something both you and Daemon found a little perplexing.

However, you relaxed a bit, having a feeling you had earned the dragon's approval. Daemon smiled as he watched you place a hand on Caraxes' snout, which was also warm.

"He likes you," the prince states.

"Yeah, he really does," you nod.

Daemon walks to, taking your hand in his, "Come with me to Dragonstone," he says again, "ride with me on Caraxes, it's an incredible experience. I'll show you the world, I'll give you whatever you want. Just say the word, (y/n), and I'll take you from this place."

You made a small smile in response, but then you looked down. As much as you've come to care for this man, this was not going to be a stable relationship. As tempting as this all was, you needed to break this pattern...you needed to get away from him.

You pull your hand away. Daemon looks at you all confused. "I'm sorry," you say, "I can't do this."

You turn and run out of the dragon pit as fast as you could.

You ran as fast as you could all the way back to the Red Keep.

Once you stopped, you were panting and sweating.

You notice people were walking past you towards the throne room. Nobles that have come to King's Landing for the tourney were now heading to the Iron Throne. Confused you decide to follow.

The Throne room was packed with nobles, knights, and anyone else important who could fit in.

Viserys sat on the throne and in front of him stood Rhaenyra, hair done up and dressed in royal regalia.

The princess turned to face the audience as the king made his announcement. Your eyes widen when you heard the news...Viserys had named his daughter his new heir.

Rhaenyra would become the future Queen of the Iron Throne.

Lords of the Seven Kingdoms then approached to bend the knee as a sign of loyalty to the king and his new heir.

In the midst of all this, you suddenly felt your stomach turn. You discretely walk out and then run as fast as you could outside to retch out the contents of your stomach.

Chapter 7

Masterlist

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher geralt #daemon #daemon targeryen x reader #geralt smut #hotd #viserys targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen

[the-typing-dragon]

ok idk why i did the poll thing you're getting a rant about magic in monster hunter. So first I want to specify a seperation between "magic" in monster hunter, and just funky monster biology. There are absolutely some monster abilities, like spines and Rath fireballs, that are just kinda funky biology and are generally mundane. Conversely, there are also many abilities like kirins summoning lightning out of midair, kushala with it's tornado manipulation, and many others that really make it difficult to consider them being a mundane, biological source. This is where the magic of monster hunter kicks in. Magic in monster hunter is a lot more subtle in monster hunter than it is in many other series. It's not wizards casting Nuclear Meteor (unless it's a monster), it primarily crops up in the forms of Alchemy and Enchantment magic style. Hunters harness magic when the parts from monsters are then utilized to create equipment that is imbued with the properties from the monster, or when simple crafting materials are used to create the consumables that can do such insane things as pulling you from the brink of death in a second, causing you to passively regenerate, and an insane number of other things. First I am going to discuss the magic that monsters use. For this I'm primarily discussing World magic, as it's my primary game and explains it quite well (for a mh game) in my opinion. In World they discuss a material called "bioenergy" that flows through monsters and ESPECIALLY elder dragons, who coincidentally are also the monsters that are generally the ones doing the random monster magic, and also are the ones that have the most magically enchanted armors. The elder dragons in question are able to generate and weaponize the magic, performing such insane feats as firing beams of pure vibrations, causing near nuclear explosions, summoning tornados, and many other insane things. Non elder monsters are still certainly able to use and harness bioenergy, however they usually either use it to a lesser degree, while supplementing their skill sets more with weird mh biology. So to summarize, bioenergy is:

• in higher densities in the monsters with more magical abilities

• has a physical form that can be collected and utilized

• is something that hunters are aware of and can utilize

Next I am going to discuss the elements in monster hunter. Most elements are just "normal" elements, however there is a specific element called "dragon" element. This dragon element is seperate from thunder, ice, fire, and water int he fact that it's not representing some normal state of matter or other mundane thing, instead seeming to be pure energy (or perhaps bioenergy). Dragon element is also more effective on elder dragons, even causing them to destabilize in certain situations. Last but not least, I am going to discuss the enchantment magic involving the equipment in monster hunter. First there is the simple fact that we are able to utilize the materials of these monsters, and then imbue otherwise mundane weapons with elemental abilities. Note that while there are also ailment weapons such as poison and paralysis, these can be more easily explained by more mundane functions. By covering a sword in the pelt of a Kirin, it is able to unleash raw electricity with every swing, never reducing in energy or effectiveness. The second part is the actual function of some of these weapon classes. While a greatsword or a hammer is generally straightforward, you soon begin to see these magical effects coming into play with other weapon classes, which has a couple examples such as: • Switch axe and charge blade being able to hit a monster of any type, and build up elemental damage "phials" or "gauges", which can then be used to consistently cause pure elemental explosions of varying strength. Charge blade specifically is able to cause waves of pure elemental energy from these hits • Hunting horn being able to play notes in a certain order than can cause varying effects from increasing attack damage, to ignoring wind pressure, to even restoring health. • Bow and bowguns being able to fire projectiles that unleash charges of pure elements upon contact with a monster. • Insect glaive being able to effortlessly fly and double jump through the air, without any visible forms of propulsion. Finally I'm going to discuss the armor and decorations in monster hunter. By crafting armor and decorations out of the remains of monsters, hunters are capable of imbuing themselves with effects ranging from hitting a little harder, to increasing damage when the monster is angry, to entirely negating hunger, to constantly passively regenerating, and an insane number of other effects. While a couple of effects might be explainable via mundane means, most of these are almost certainly some form of enchantment. so yeah. There's magic in monster hunter.

#the dragon types #long post #dear god this is a long post #mh #monster hunter

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Wow... We've reached part 6 of this thing, the Reaper King AU 💀. I will be honest, this is the most I have written in years... Writing used to be the one thing I couldn't stop myself from doing... but... Somewhere along the lines I lost my passion for it. This is the first time in AGES I have had so much fun doing the thing that I love. And I gotta say I hope y'all are enjoying reading this half as much as I enjoy writing it :)

TW: As per usual, this touches on some darker topics. So you've been warned.

Part 6

-It takes KC a while to truly figure out how to use the App properly... But he gets the hang of it eventually.

-Although he does get a few more 'Old Man' jokes from Bloodmoon as he's figuring it out.

-The fact that he's a robot having trouble figuring out a dating app is not even acknowledged though.

-The conversations between KC and the Ranger, whose name is Harper (Yes, I have finally figured out their name and their a very tomboyish young woman in her early 30s with brown hair and emerald green eyes.) are very casual and friendly. Mostly talking about shared interests.

...Movies...

-The Friday the 13th movies are underrated along with the Nightmare on Elm St series. The original Jurassic Park movies are timeless. Godzilla movies are wonderful and best enjoyed in a large screen setting like with a projector or at a drive in.

-And to this day no one has a clue what the hell was up with Halloween 3.

KC: Honestly some of the B rated horror movies are better than the big budget movies nowadays... More entertaining.

Harper: Preaching to the choir, completely agree :)

...Pets...

Harper: I'm a dog person, I had a husky up until recently... Sadly she passed and I just haven't had the heart to get a new one yet. Not to mention my job; I would have to get a pretty well behaved dog to have it out here.

KC: I have one dog (Petting Muerte, the Moon Wolf alpha) but I take care of a lot of others... My eldest has a dog as well.

...he watches as Bloodmoon is having a full tug-of-war with a bone in his mouth with the two headed/deformed wolf that he has named HunterKiller...

KC: Completely reflects how he is as a person...

...Hobbies...

-As it turns out Harper has a love for legends, myths and all sorts of tall tales especially stories about cryptids. She's obviously extremely outdoorsy and would rather spend her life hiking the trails than sitting in front of a computer screen. The pay for working at the park she is currently working in is also really good... Probably because they can't seem to keep employees long term.

KC: Aren't you scared? There's a lot of disappearances in this area...

Harper: I am not gonna lie, I have... Seen some stuff. In the mists. I think... Eh, you probably won't believe me.

KC: You would be very surprised what I would believe.

Harper: I... I... think I encountered some of the forests cryptids once. I was out hiking and... Just these two forms amongst all that mist. I just froze... Then backed away and ran.

KC: I believe you. Strange things live out here... Were you afraid?

Harper: Well yeah... But... I always kinda had the theory that if you were respectful and left the cryptids alone... They'd leave you alone. I saw them, or at least thought I did, and I backed up and left the area. In kind of a hurry I admit... But I am not one of those people who go out looking for trouble. And judging by the fact that I am still alive, I think that theory might hold water.

KC: That's a good philosophy... I don't think it's completely accurate. But a very decent way of looking at things.

Harper: What's your theory?

KC: That it's nothing personal.

Harper: ?

KC: These cryptids hunt and kill indiscriminately. It's nothing personal to them. It's like a wolf hunting a deer... Maybe they have some scruples about what they hunt, but whatever they do kill... it's nothing personal. Respecting their domain won't always save you, but you'll probably live longer than most.

Harper: ...

KC: ?

Harper: And that is why I would rather deal with cryptids, monsters and legends than live in a concrete jungle amongst other humans any day.

-That one made Killcode smile.

...Family...

KC: I have a big family, all adopted and brought together by odd circumstances... My eldest is a young adult. My second eldest is a young teenager and it shocks me how mature he is. As he's definitely more mature than his older brother. Then my first daughter, she's growing so fast. She's so protective of her siblings and even me. Then there's my twin boys, who are a pair of mischievous little gremlins. Then there my four year old, she's very shy. Clings to my eldest like glue, which is surprising because he can be abrasive. And then there's my youngest, only a few months old now. But I can already tell she's going to be an energetic little hellion when she gets older. I love them all so much ♥️

Harper: Wow

KC: Is there a problem?

Harper: No no, just... Are they okay with you dating? I know sometimes kids don't like their parents dating. I don't want to upset your family.

KC: Actually they set this account up for me.

Harper: Oh ok. But based on your description they sound wonderful

KC: Do you have any family?

Harper: ...not really, I was an only child. My parents passed away in a car accident. No aunt's, uncle's, cousins or anything. I'm just kinda here by myself. Some friends actually made this account for me as a joke about a month ago. And... You're the only person who has had any interest in talking to me here. I was thinking about deleting this thing just before you started talking with me.

KC: Funny how the world works.

Harper: Is it nice?

KC: What?

Harper: Having a big family like that?

KC: It's the greatest joy in my life. There are times we disagree and argue, yes. But being surrounded by the ones you love the most and who love you back... There's nothing comparable.

Harper: Sounds lovely

-They talk back and forth like this for a few weeks. Before they finally opt to meet and go on a date.

...the date...

Upon KC's suggestion they are going to go on a hike on one of the shorter, but still challenging trails. One of Harper's favorites. He states that he'll be bringing her a red rose, so she will know who he is. She stated he didn't need too, but KC insisted. Harper actually gets to the beginning of this trail a little early and is quite nervous... Will they get along well in person? Will he like her?

...she didn't notice the approach of the towering 9ft tall creature garbed in a cloak, with a large glowing red core upon his chest until he was standing right next to her... She turns to see Killcode right next to her, but before she can do anything at all-

He holds out a single red rose. 🌹

There was a moment where the proverbial hamster fell off the wheel in Harper's head... But after a long moment everything finally caught up with her and she realized exactly what was going on.

Harper: Oh um... Hi...K...C?

Killcode: (Awkward smile)

They begin that hike... At first things are a bit tense and more than a little awkward. But they do begin talking, KC assuring Harper this isn't a trick or trap or anything... Harper asks a few questions of her own. But things become less tense. After a bit, things gradually go from being tense to calm, to friendly... And about an hour into the hike they are conversing like friends.

By the time they reach the halfway point of the hike, the moon has risen into the sky and any lingering awkwardness has completely evaporated and they stop and just look at the nights sky.

Harper states this is the best date she's ever been on...

KC points out that this is the only date he's ever been on...

They both laugh. Although KC starts to turn his gaze towards the forest more and more as they continue on the second half of the trail... Until he finally stops and crosses his arms. Looking at something that Harper cannot see.

KC: Young lady... Is there a reason you're following us?

...wordlessly Wisp emerges from the forest, bathing the entire area in a soft blue glow. Harper cannot help but stare at the little girl that is made of flames before her. She floats up and sits in KC's arms, allowing him and Harper to see the thing on her neck.

Harper: Is that... Is that one of those little cameras people put on their cats?

KC: (Gets horrified) Bloodmoon did you put a cat spy camera on your little sister?!

(Elsewhere Bloodmoon and the others slam the laptop closed)

...It wasn't until just before sunrise, after Harper had finally finished cleaning up the station that it really dawned on her at that moment that she is now dating one of the most feared local cryptids.

Harper found the situation both adorable and hilarious... And she admittedly was trying to avoid laughing too hard at the sight. But Wisp looked Harper up and down before moving in close and whispering to her father.

Wisp: I like her. She has a kind heart.

The girl then disappeared back into the forests from whence she came... While KC muttered about how Bloodmoon was going to be in sooo much trouble when he got home.

Rather than their date simply ending at the end of the trail, Killcode actually accompanies Harper back to the Ranger Station... Which was beneficial because much to Harper's dismay, those racoons had returned and had promptly locked her out of the cabin again. And the sounds of chittering and ransacking of the fridge can be heard even from outside.

Harper: (Growls) Evil little trash pandas...

KC: Maybe I can be of some assistance here?

Harper: If you wanna try, but they're tricky little things... The last time they locked me out I had to sleep in my Jeep. This time I am just going to go get the ladder and get in through the upstairs window... Which I started to leave open delibrately to handle these raccoon invasions.

Killcode says nothing as he walks towards the door and actually phases through it... Everything grows eerily still for a moment, before the loud, booming voice of Killcode echoes through the area like cannon fire.

KC: GET OUT!!!!!!!

Immediately the door flies open and at least a dozen raccoons run out... With their high pitched and fearful chittering sounding far more human than Harper can recall hearing before... Hell she swore she heard something along the lines of 'How were we supposed to know she was the mate of the Reaper King?!'

...yeah she's thinking too far into it...

Still KC just calmly unlocked the front door and walked outside. Expressing that he had a wonderful time tonight and would love to do this again. Something Harper happily agrees too...

They make plans to meet up again in the coming days. Before KC bids her good night and he retreats back into the forest so quickly that he just seemed to vanish...

...and she is perfectly fine with it :)

#tsams #tsams au #fnaf #the sun and moon show #fnaf au #dca au #dca #sun and moon show #tsams killcode #the sun and moon show killcode #sun and moon fnaf #the sun and moon show bloodmoon #sun and moon show bloodmoon #the sun and moon show au #sun and moon show killcode #sams killcode #tsams kc #kill code moon #killcode #fnaf killcode #Killcode KC #Reaper King AU

[gamesception]

Sception Reads Cass Cain #34

Robin (1993) #88 - May 2001 Story: Chuck Dixon & Scott Beatty Pencils: Pete Woods, Ink: Andrew Pepoy Letters: Willie Schubert, Colors: Noelle Giddings

Guest appearance again this week. A bit more of a notable one because as far as I know this is officially the first time Cass Cain and Stephanie Brown meet. Kind of more significant in retrospect than in the moment, as they don't exactly hit it off right away, but still.

So the basic setup is that Bruce has decided Stephanie isn't going to just go away and stop doing Spoiler stuff so he might as well take her on officially and train her, a decision spurred on by Tim working more and more on his own & not answering Bruce's calls. When Tim disappeared from the country completely without telling Bruce where he went Bruce turned to Stephanie to check up on him, in the process telling Steph Tim's secret identity, which iirc (my Robin knowledge is limited, I could have this wrong) previously Tim had used as the reason they couldn't be in a relationship. Like "I can't date you, you don't even know who I am, and I can't tell you that even though I want to because it might give away Batman's identity, which isn't my secret to share. Also my life is super dangerous, and Batman doesn't think you're ready, and as much as I like you I have to respect his professional opinion on this"

On the one hand it's dicky of Bruce to not respect Tim's privacy the way Tim respected his, but on the other hand Tim blowing up about it kind of implies that all those things he told steph were excuses, and the real reason he didn't want to date her was that he just wasn't that into her. Or maybe he was, but got mad at her for getting pregnant by someone else after he rejected her and now doesn't want to date her because of that? Did that happen already, or after this? Again, I don't know the details of Robin Lore, but reading just this issue and the previous one for background, Tim is absolutely the one who comes off as worse here between him and Bruce.

So anyway that's what's going on. Cass shows up in all of this when Bruce takes Stephanie to one of his training caves and has Cass demonstrate a training routine that Steph is struggling with.

Which, yeah, I guess this is pretty badass or whatever,

But if this were a real life situation, Cass would have just decapitated like seven dudes. 100% fatality rate for the criminal dummies. You'd think Bruce would be a little less glowing in his praise over that, considering how much of his shitty behavior towards Cass started when he found out she might have (definitely did, but denial is a powerful drug) killed somebody.

Cass gives Steph the cold shoulder. Giving Dixon & Beatty the benefit of the doubt for a moment, this does fit very much into the recent evolution of Cass's character, becoming harder and harsher as she gets more isolated. She also may be picking up on and echoing Batman's lowish opinion of Stephanie as a vigilante / person, even if it has softened enough for the moment that he's willing to train her.

And it sets up for future interactions where Stephanie basically puts in the work to break through Cass's walls, despite her initial frosty attitude, to become the friend Cass needed when when she didn't have any others. The whole arc is honestly pretty touching and really speaks to Stephanie's character, and it isn't possible without this initial attitude from Cass.

....

On the other hand, this plays into an obnoxious trend of the entire bat family being written as incredibly rude and dickish towards Stephanie, in ways that very often feel completely out of character. Even (especially) Tim, her supposed love interest. Even Alfred!

Yes, calling Alfred 'the Butler' is rude, but Alfred was uncharacteristically rude and dismissive to her first in this scene.

And since it so often feels out of character, you get the impression that the people who actually hate Stephanie aren't the characters themselves, but rather the writers and editors at DC. That is eventually undeniably the case, once DiDio is in charge and War Games is happening.

But that's still 3 years away! I had to check, because the way the narrative is treating Stephanie right now, the way all the characters we're supposed to think are in the right here are treating her (Alfred, Tim, not Bruce), feels very much like the build up to War Games, with Stephanie finally getting a chance to shine and getting some respect from bruce, but with the overall narrative implying that's a bad thing somehow and that she isn't worthy, that despite all her work and earnest commitment she's somehow only coasting on hubris and setting herself up fro a fall, one that we as the audience are supposed to find, like, cathartic, or maybe at best tragic but in a cosmically justified sense that she brought on herself.

And it all kind of sucks, because no, she really doesn't deserve any of it. Or rather she hasn't been written to deserve any of it. The differences between her and Bruce's other sundry teen sidekicks and hangers on have overwhelmingly been in how others have been written as treating her, not the things she's been written as doing or in her personality or whatever.

I guess that's a free writer tip for you. If you want the reader to not like a character, write that character as doing or saying or thinking unlikable things, or acting for distasteful motives. Or give that character things they don't deserve or appreciate without having to work for them. Don't make them sweet and put-upon and have them try hard to do the right thing despite coming from a bad place and struggle to earn respect that others get for free only to have it denied to them anyway and then have all your main characters shit on them constantly for no reason or even explicitly for doing things that they all do and get rewarded for.

If you do all that, your readers will end up identifying with the character you want them to dislike and disliking the characters you want them to identify with.

EDIT: oh, I almost forgot, we do get this one cute 'proud papa' moment from Bruce:

Always nice to see those, especially amid all the less positive stuff going on with him and Cass right now.

#cassandra cain #batgirl #stephanie brown #spoiler #sception reads cassandra cain

[abitohoney]

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Chapter 2 of 6 - There's Nothing Sweeter AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Humor, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay (nothing extreme), Begging, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Corny & Cheesy Dialogue, kinda sappy

Word Count: 3.9k

Fic Summary: It’s your first year spending the holidays with Sevika, and though the two of you couldn’t be any different in your level of holiday spirit or view of the traditions that come with it, your shared adoration (and sexual attraction) for each other is more than enough to get both of you through it together.

A collection of little holiday-inspired scenes, technically chronological, but really could be read in any order or as stand-alone oneshots. Includes a nice blend of sugar (fluff) and spice (smut).

Chapter Summary: With an upcoming holiday party to attend, you decide to bake cookies as your contribution to the potluck. Despite Sevika's insistence not to be involved, you're not about to let her get out of this one so easily. (A good dose of fun, a bit of fluff, and just a hint of smut if you squint.)

AN: Another fic already complete on AO3 that I'm bringing to Tumblr. Guess it's Xmas in April. 🤷‍♀️

“C’mon Sevika!” you plead, “It’ll be fun!”

“No.”

“What can I do to change your mind?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

Determined not to let Sevika weasel her way out of yet another holiday tradition, you take a moment to mull over a way to convince her. You lean forward over the kitchen island as your eyes wander over her stoic expression from where she sits at the kitchen table nursing a drink. It’s a quick movement, but you catch the moment her gaze drops to your exposed cleavage before flitting back to your face.

Gotcha!

“Tell you what,” you start, a playful lilt to your tone, “If you help me with the cookies, I’ll let you have your way with me after we finish them.” Confident you’ve got this in the bag, you make no effort to hide the smile that knowledge elicits.

“You’ll let me have my way with you regardless,” she replies with her own cocky grin.

Well that didn’t go as planned.

“What if I don’t let you this time?” you challenge her. It’s a long shot, but by Janna you are going to get her to drop the Grinch act.

Sevika raises a single dark brow, calling your bluff.

“Don’t give me that look!” you snap, “I can turn down your advances.”

She simply keeps that damn smirk in place for a moment longer, testing your resolve.

When she suddenly stands, chair scraping noisily across the floor, you immediately straighten up. Unsure what exactly she intends to do, you nervously watch as she strides around the island and towards you. You spin to face her as she comes up behind you. Crossing your arms across your chest, you crane your neck to stare up at her with as much defiance as you can muster beneath her towering height.

Her smirk softens into something more… suggestive , and you realize there’s no way you’re winning this round. Slowly- purposefully- she places her hands against the side of the counter, one on either side of you and effectively cages you in place.

The combination of her proximity, the confidence she exudes, and the anticipation of her touch- it all makes short work of what little resolve you have remaining. Your once furrowed brows relax and your arms slip down to your sides. Peering up into her stormy eyes, you silently plead that she let you have this. For once. But, it seems she isn’t going to as you watch her slowly lower her head and bring her lips towards yours. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel her soft lips ghost over yours, but when you lean in for the kiss, she pulls away.

Damnit! She did it again!

She played you. Just as she did with the damn Christmas tree decorating the other day. You even knew that was what she was doing and yet you still fell for it. However, this time, rather than feeling frustrated and angry, you feel hurt. The holidays are important to you, so she should make an effort to spend them with you regardless of how silly or frivolous she finds it all. You turn your head away from her, unwilling to let her see your defeated expression, but her thumb and index finger gently catch you by the chin.

“Hey,” she says softly, but you can still hear the remnants of mirth in her tone. She guides your head so you’re forced to look up at her again. Releasing a deep sigh, her broad shoulders slump in defeat. “I’ll help you.”

The way your face lights up brighter than the fucking Christmas tree has her lip twitching and threatening to turn into a genuine smile. Still gripping your chin, she finally presses her lips fully against yours.

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you try to return the kiss, but you can’t contain the wide smile that spreads across your face.

When she pulls back to gaze down at your expression, she shakes her head and releases a quiet, short chuckle. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs and pushes herself away from the counter and subsequently you. “Now what the hell do you want me to do?”

Still beaming with excitement, you try to keep it in check before it drives her to change her mind. “You’re going to help me roll out the dough and cut some festive shapes. It’s simple. I’ve got two stations set up. Just watch me and do what I do.” You explain and make your way to the other end of the counter where you have a large bowl of dough prepared. Several cookie cutters, a bag of flour, several cookie sheets and a pair of rolling pins line the rest of the space.

Sevika releases an exaggerated sigh -one that you choose to ignore- before moving to stand in her designated spot.

“So start by putting some flour on the counter, so the dough doesn’t stick. Coat your rolling pin too,” you instruct while performing the actions. You turn to watch Sevika, and although she’s donning her typical grumpy expression, she proceeds to repeat the process as instructed. Once satisfied with her performance, you grab a large portion of the dough, set it on the flour coated counter and start rolling it out. “You need to get the dough flat enough for it to bake properly. About the width of your pinky finger.” Glancing at Sevika’s human hand, you quickly amend that statement, “ My pinky.” That at least earns you a hint of a smirk.

The two of you work in unison while you occasionally peer over at her work. Impressed with how well she’s followed along so far, you decide to let her have at it on her own for a while and concentrate on your batch. Dough at the right thickness, you grab a cookie cutter and start making an assortment of holiday shapes. “Once you have the right thickness just start cutting out as many cookies as you can before placing them on the cookie sheets,” you explain.

With your first round all cut, you turn to check Sevika’s process, only to find she’s been cutting hers using her fucking prosthetic fingers. “Sevika! What the hell?” you holler, face contorting in disgust.

Sevika turns to you, brows furrowed. “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re cutting the cookies using your fucking nasty ass prosthetic finger!”

“Would you prefer I use the fingers I fucked you with this morning?” she asks, arching a brow.

That - catches you completely off guard. “What?! I- No! I mean- you did clean them afterwards, didn’t you?” You had planned to tell her to just use the cookie cutters , but the fact that her statement seemed to imply her fingers are dirty has completely derailed your thought process.

“No. You cleaned them… with your mouth,” Sevika replies. Her dark lips curl into a haughty smirk as she waits for your reaction.

Again, you’re unprepared for that response. “That- that is not cleaning them, Sevika. Janna, please tell me you’re just messing with me!”

She simply grins at you for a long moment, just taking in your dumbfounded expression with a sick satisfaction.

Throwing your hands up in the air dramatically, you decide it doesn’t even matter at this point. “Just use the damn cookie cutters please. And make sure your hand IS clean.”

“Guess you need to work on your instructions,” she sneers.

You’re tempted to form a retort to that snarky remark, but you opt to bite it back when she does- in fact- grab a cookie cutter and start using it. You can’t help but wonder if her act was simply an attempt to get out of doing the task. If she sucks at it, you won’t ask her to do it.

Ha! Not getting out of it that easy.

Both of you return to working in silence until all the dough is used up. Sliding the baking sheets into the oven and setting a timer, you turn to regard Sevika with a pleased smile. “See! That wasn’t so bad now was it? Kinda fun, right?” If the scowl she’s wearing is any indication, you’d bet she’s got something less than positive to say.

“Yes and no.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you ask, “Yes and no… what?”

“Yes it was bad and no, it was not kinda fun ,” she replies, her tone particularly snarky as she mocks your words.

Grinch.

Determined not to let her spoil the fun, you reach a hand into the flour. You grab a small handful before allowing a devious grin to spread across your face.

“What are you smil-” Sevika’s question halts as you toss the flour at her forehead, covering the top of her head and a good part of her face in little flecks of the white powder.

“ You … need to lighten up,” you tease, making no effort to hide the mirth in your tone. Your smile only grows as you watch her stand there, eyes shut tight and nose scrunched up. She looks downright adorable. “Look! It snowed!” you continue to tease her.

Sevika slowly opens her eyes, and oh boy does she look very displeased. Her brows form a deep v-shaped line.

You should probably be worried, but you’re too caught up in just how clever you think you are. It isn’t until her entire expression shifts that you realize just how in trouble you are.

Her brows relax, causing several bits of flour to slide down her cheeks and onto the floor. Then, ever so slowly, her tight lined lips start to curl up at one corner.

Oh shit.

Starting to back away cautiously, you watch with worry as Sevika dips her human hand into the bag.

While slowly removing her hand- which is clearly overflowing with the white substance- her eyes never leave yours.

About to spin on your heels and run, you find you’re just a bit too slow. An absurd amount of powder hits you smack in the center of your face. You manage to close your eyes in time, but only just. It coats your face. After swiping as much as you can away from your eyes, you carefully open your eyes.

Sevika stands before you, grinning wide and looking ever so proud of herself.

From your periphery you spot the leftover flour coating your station and you withhold your smile this time. You can’t let her know what you’re thinking. Moving swiftly, you scoop up as much of the remnants into both hands before chucking it in her direction.

She raises her hands, but too late, as you manage to get a decent chunk on her face, hair and neck.

Now you’re the one grinning- not to mention cackling- as you watch her attempt to dust herself off. Before she can return her attention to you, you grab another good handful and throw it in her face. And luck must be on your side, as you manage to time it just as she opens her mouth to say something. As she sputters and coughs- white clouds of flour shooting from her mouth- your giggles burst into full on belly laughter. One hand on your chest as it shakes, you raise the other to swipe away a tear as it slips from your eye.

“You little-” Sevika growls, withholding the curse that she'd let follow if she were talking to anyone other than you.

“Don’t be such a sore loser!” you tease between your fits of laughter.

Stormy gray eyes catch yours, locking onto them as she snatches the entire bag of flour in her metal hand.

Your laughter stops immediately.

Oops!

She stalks towards you, closing the gap almost immediately.

“Sevika! Wait!” you cry out. You turn to book it in the other direction, but she catches you by your forearm.

With one swift tug, she spins you around to face her. She grins down at you with the most sinister- no- just downright evil look on her face as she raises the bag above your head.

You are so screwed.

Throwing your free hand up to shield as much of your face as you can, you try one last time to plead with her. “Sevika please! Don’t! You’re gonna waste-” Your plea is cut short as you feel the entire contents of the bag come raining down on your head. You close your eyes and mouth while holding your breath. The hand over your face proves to be useless as the powder easily slips down and over every square inch of your topside.

When the dust- or, rather, flour- finally settles, Sevika releases your arm and you clear your face as much as you can. It’s almost a losing battle, as more just falls down from the top of your head.

I’m the ridiculous one?  

Her wide smirk is still well in place when you finally blink up at her. And oh does that just irk you even more. Peeved that she wasted the entire bag of flour, you’re now the one wearing a nasty scowl.

“Don’t be such a sore loser,” she sneers.

Although you don't appreciate her mocking your words yet again, it's hard to be mad at her when she gently runs a thumb across one of your cheeks to brush more flour off. It's a tender gesture, meant to subdue you. And of course it works.

“You are just awful sometimes,” you grumble. You're not truly mad at her. Looking down, you find your sweater is- as expected- completely coated. Slipping your fingers beneath the hem, you pull it up and over your head, trying to keep it inside out to prevent further mess. Not that it matters. The floor is just as much of a disaster as you are. It even seeped beneath the sweater and between your cleavage. “It’s in my bra!” you gripe.

“You could take that off too.”

Not gonna happen. You know what that would lead, and it's going to have to wait until later. Tossing your sweater onto the counter, you shoot Sevika a glare. You dust off your breasts and try to shake any remnants out of your bra. You’re about to throw her a smart comeback when the timer goes off. Sighing, you head to the oven, trying to ignore how powder falls from your head with each step you take. Grabbing an oven mitt, you pull out each cookie sheet and set them aside to cool. You release another sigh when you turn to look at the floor. “Guess we can clean this up while the cookies cool.”

Sevika says nothing as you move to fetch a broom and dust pan. She just watches you with a smirk from where she leans back against the counter.

Holding the broom out for Sevika to take, your eyes flit to hers when she doesn’t take it. “Don’t think I’m cleaning this by myself,” you scoff when she simply raises a brow. She finally takes it after you shove the handle into her chest. You kneel on the tile floor, grumbling to yourself as you wait for her to sweep the flour into the dustpan you place near the messiest area.

It takes a good six or more rounds of filling and emptying the dustpan to get the majority of the flour cleaned up. Just as you’re collecting the last chunk, you see Sevika’s index finger come into view before she slips beneath your chin.

She guides you to look up at her. She’s still smiling, but it’s much softer now. “That was… entertaining .” Her words come out forced, but sincere.

She had fun - and damn if that doesn’t bring your smile right back. You feel her apply a gentle pressure beneath your chin again and allow her to guide you up and to your feet. Eyes locked on hers, you set the dustpan off to the side while she leans the broom against the island. Remnants of flour remain in her hair and on her face. It’s a rather humorous site. Your smile grows, as does her lopsided grin. You assume she must be thinking the same thing about you.

Stepping closer, she cocks her head as she brings her lips to yours in a tender kiss. It’s brief, but sweet and she releases your chin when she breaks away.

As she smiles down at you, and you up at her, you’re certain she feels the same level of adoration for you as you do for her.

“What’s next?” she asks quietly, breaking the silence.

Feeling a bit disappointed that the tender moment is over, you avert your gaze to the cookies. They should be cool enough by now. Now comes your favorite part, and that at least helps keep your spirits up. “Time to decorate them! Why don't you move the cookies to the counter while I grab the icing and sprinkles.”

Sevika, obviously less enthused, reluctantly follows your instructions and starts moving the cookies to the island.

“So there’s no right or wrong way to decorate them really,” you say as you return to the counter with a fairly large plastic tub full of sugary toppings. “Just make them look fun and festive.” You’re not surprised when she says nothing in response, but what does surprise you is that she starts taking out various items and turning them over in her prosthetic hand.

She silently watches you decorate a wreath shaped cookie before starting to work on her own. She mimics yours, using the same colors in the same places. And though she could definitely work on her technique, you’re impressed by her attempt.

“Nicely done,” you say with a smile.

Your praise earns you a quiet, disinterested hum from Sevika while she grabs another cookie and starts decorating on her own.

The two of you work in comfortable silence until there are only a few cookies remaining.

Grabbing a gingerbread man shaped cookie, you decide to test your own skills and make something a bit more… unique .

“Is that supposed to be me?” Sevika asks just as you finish.

You turn to her, a proud smile plastered to your face. “Yes. It is actually,” you reply and hold up the little gingerbread man- or, woman- for her to better see. One arm is decorated in copper and purple icing. The head is covered in short, black hair. You even gave it a little cropped top and low-cut pants. “You look so sweet! I could just eat you up!” you tease. “Get it? Cause this is you- as a cookie- and cookies are sweet.”

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, Sevika shakes her head at you before returning her attention to her Christmas tree shaped cookie.

“Oh come on! It was funny!” you insist. You catch the corner of her mouth twitch despite her clear attempt to hide her smile. “You think I’m cute and funny. Admit it. I saw you smile.” Not really expecting her to admit it, you simply smile to yourself and grab the last cookie to decorate. Just as you’re adding the finishing touches, you see Sevika’s prosthetic slowly slide across the counter and into your view, pushing a cookie along with it. You stare at it for a moment. It’s also a gingerbread… woman . If the fucking tits she put on it are any indication. “Sevika! Seriously?” you ask incredulously. It even has little nipples.

“It’s you,” she replies, no hint of shame in her tone. Not that you’d ever expect that. “Now you look good enough to eat. Again.”

Your attention flits to her face to find her smirking. Janna is she only ever happy when she’s toying with you? Damn sadist. Damn gorgeous, sexy, sadist who seems to have forgotten these are for a party. “You can’t decorate them inappropriately like that! We’re bringing these to Silco’s holiday party!” you chastise her and plant your hands firmly on your hips.

Sevika reaches for the cookie, keeping those gray eyes- full of mirth- locked on yours as she raises it to her mouth- and fucking licks the icing tits right off. “There,” she states simply and places the cookie down with the rest of them.

“For fucks sake Sevika! We can’t bring ones you’ve licked either!” Oh you are just so done now. The way she just grins so arrogantly at you is a clear indication that she’s doing this on purpose. Probably has something else brewing in that wicked mind of hers-

“How about I lick your real tits instead?” she asks and steps closer, invading your space- for the second time this morning.

“Stop- stop distracting me,” you stammer. Damn she’s got you so flustered. How does she just use her presence- or that deep, raspy tone- to switch the mood of the room in an instant?

“Stop distracting you ?” she chuckles. “Babygirl, you’re the one who's been distracting me all morning with your tits on display.”

Ok. She’s got a point.

Mouth open, you’re about to tell her to control herself, but that thought quickly empties from your head the moment you feel her hands on your bare waist.

She gently turns you so you’re facing her and crowds you, forcing your back against the counter. Gray, hungry eyes watch your wide, innocent ones for just a moment before she lowers her head. Pulling down one of the cups of your bra, Sevika presses a kiss to the curve of your breast. Her other hand- the one made of flesh, skims up your abdomen to cup the other breast.

You sigh, letting your head fall back as you feel the warmth of her large hand through your thin bra. Her name spills from your mouth in a soft moan when she sucks at your flesh in time with the squeeze of her hand. You thread your hands into her hair to pull her face closer. The familiar ache of arousal spreads from your core and down your legs when she takes your nipple into her mouth and sucks gently. Then she clamps down with her teeth and your legs threaten to give way. She must notice this, as you feel her metal claws sink into the flesh just below the breast she’s currently teasing with her tongue.

Finally releasing you from her mouth, Sevika straightens up to admire how you gaze up at her through hooded eyes. “Shower?” she asks, tone deep and suggestive.

You nod, not trusting your own voice with how turned on you are.

“You got a little something on your mouth,” she purrs.

Before you reach up to wipe away whatever it is, you catch the glint in her gray eyes. She’s got something planned.

She brings her hand up with a small amount of icing on the pad of her thumb and spreads it across your parted lips. Leaning down she captures your mouth in a passionate kiss. Her tongue teases over your lips, withdrawing another soft moan from your throat. When she breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and dizzy, she bends down to scoop you up into her arms bridal style.

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you smile up at her as she carries you towards the bathroom. You give her a quick peck on the cheek. “How do I taste? As sweet as sugar?” you ask playfully.

With a cute, crooked grin, she replies, “Babygirl, there's nothing sweeter than you."

next chapter >

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 19th of August 2023

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 19th of August, 2023

Question: Who is behind the article in the Mirror about the King's plans?

Note: The energy of this reading was like reading through static for the most part, although an energy of stubbornness and repeating old ways came through clearly. I am putting this up but I would also like to go back to it in a week or two and just check the results. I could be wrong in my interpretations. Some of the interpretations are also very short as I couldn't get to the deeper energy and had to go with the surface stuff.

Interpretation: Someone from an institution, possibly the King.

Card One: The Hierophant, reversed

The Hierophant is a card of institutions. It can also be a card of marriage. It usually stands for the BRF. If so, as it is reversed, this is someone from the BRF acting out of their shadow side, acting out of negative energy.

I drew a clarifier on this, asking specifically if it was King Charles, and I got the Judgement card, which is the card of Pluto, who is the ruler of Scorpio, and Charles is a sun sign Scorpio, so I am taking that as a yes. If I am wrong, then it is either another Scorpio or someone who wants the BRF to be seen and judged in a certain way. If it is Charles, then I expect Camilla to be involved in some way as well because this card is also a card for marriage, so the married couple are acting together.

Judgement is about how you see people, how you judge them, and also about second chances. I am taking this as confirmation that the article was designed to have people look at King Charles in a certain way, and also to have them look at the Prince and Princess of Wales in a certain way. The underlying energy for the clarifier was the Ace of Swords reversed, so this is an old strategy (a new strategy would be the Ace of Swords upright) that has been used by Charles before and that he is using again to achieve what he wants.

Card Two: The Knight of Pentacles

This Knight is the slowest knight, and knights are generally action cards, so this is slow and steady action that builds to a final goal. The article is part of this action. This is going to be a slow campaign, with the narrative forming and being reinforced over a period of time, rathe than something quick.

The Knight of Pentacles is the card of Virgo, the sun sign of Prince Harry, so this could have something to do with Harry and making him look good to the general public.

Card Three: The Nine of Wands

The Nine of Wands is about perseverance, persistence, and making one last effort to get to where you want to be. The energy of this card is of stubbornness. Someone is making another effort to make things go the way they think they should go, and even though they have failed to achieve this result in the past, they think that if they make one last try then it will happen and everything will fall into place the way they want it. This could apply to putting the Walses in their 'proper places', or it could be about bringing Harry home, it could be both, it could be something else. What I am getting is a stubborn, set energy that refuses to give up or to try another way of achieving their goals, but I don't have anything on what those goals are.

Underlying Energy: The Star.

This card is the reason behind the article and the slow and steady building of a certain narrative that the person thinks will work this time. This energy is of two things: firstly, the person wants to be the star of the BRF, the undisputed leader of the polls in popularity, and secondly, they are hoping to make a dream of theirs finally come true.

Conclusion:

I think that King Charles is behind this article, acting with his wife Camilla. The article is designed to make people view the King and the Prince and Princess of Wales in a certain way. It is part of the slow and steady build up of a particular narrative, using an old strategy that has worked in the past. That narrative is another attempt by Charles to make things work out they way he wants them to work out. He is not giving up on this and will keep trying to make things work out his way. He is trying to do two things: to increase his star power and to manifest an unrealised dream. This may have something to do with Harry returning to England.