#unlike last time i don't think i truly fell off

[misc-obeyme]

Here is part two with the rest of the characters!

I actually included the three undateables - Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen. I'm getting tired of waiting for them to become dateable, so I decided to go ahead and write some for them, too. I don't know how good they are, I feel like I have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to them lol.

I may have also included my OC Arsenios as a bonus... just 'cause I really wanted to write one for him. It's exactly the kind of scenario he would be there for so it just fit so well. Anyway, you can read more about him here if you're curious. He's also the last one, so you can just skip it altogether if you like lol!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x the dateables, the undateables, and one OC lol

Warnings: none that I can think of??

It was an October night in the Devildom and the House of Lamentation was hosting a Halloween masquerade ball. The main hall had been decorated splendidly in oranges, purples, and blacks. An entire feast was laid out, the table full of dishes contributed to the party by Barbatos and Simeon. The room was dark, lit mostly by orbs of orange light, enchanted to float through the air by Solomon. On a small stage there was a live band playing a mix of lively and slow creepy music. The dance floor was filled with demons, all of whom were unrecognizable…

Due to the masquerade theme, special masks had been made for each attendee. They were made by Satan and Asmodeus, working together to create magical masks that would completely obscure each party goer's appearance. Once they put on the mask, a glamor fell over them that transformed them and made them unrecognizable. Every glamor costume was black and incorporated a look involving fancy suits, flowing dresses, and probably too many sequins.

The party organizers all knew what each other's mask-generated costumes looked like. Everyone had been present when Asmo revealed his designs. Everyone… except you. You had insisted on creating your own glamor and thus hadn't been present to see everyone else's.

Now you stood in the middle of this masquerade party, unable to recognize a single person.

And yet you knew that the person you wanted to see most was in the room somewhere. And after a small amount of time, you were certain you had figured out who it was. You made a bold move and asked them to dance. While you were in their arms, they told you to meet them somewhere specific later, when the party was winding down. You agreed and spent the rest of the night exchanging looks with them, anticipating the moment when you would be alone with them.

Had you chosen the correct person? Did you know them well enough that you could determine their identity when their appearance was so altered? And more importantly… did they know who you were?

Diavolo

You actually had to pretend that you didn't know who he was. The reality was that there was no mistaking Diavolo. He walked like a king, moving about the room and talking happily with every demon he came across. He had a presence unlike any other, even rivaling Lucifer in the way he commanded the space and everybody's attention.

You had to intercept him and ask him to dance. He accepted your invitation readily enough, but you weren't sure if it was out of politeness or if it was because he actually knew who you were. He spoke with you easily while you danced and even when he asked you to meet him in the foyer, you weren't sure if he knew you.

You managed to break away later, when things were winding down. You had seen Diavolo going into the foyer and followed him after only a few moments.

His mask was already gone and you found him in full demon form. Diavolo looked absolutely regal standing there, waiting for you. You went up to him, almost intimidated. You still weren't sure if he knew you.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Diavolo?" you asked carefully.

Diavolo chuckled. He reached out to take off your mask. "Were you truly afraid I didn't know you, MC?"

You blushed and looked away.

Diavolo laughed and took your hands, pulling you outside into the Devildom night. Before you knew what was happening, you were in his arms and with a heavy beat of his enormous wings, the two of you were flying. The wind rushed through your hair as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself close.

Diavolo hovered for a moment. "Don't be afraid. I have you. I only wanted to be alone with you for a moment. Up here, no one will see us."

You flushed, amazed at the sight of him, his strong arms keeping you up, the yellow light of the moon splashing across his skin. Everything became heated as he kissed you, the neediness of his lips indicating just how much he had been waiting for this moment.

Barbatos

If you hadn't been deliberately looking for him, you likely wouldn't have noticed Barbatos at all. He stayed out of the way, on the edges of the party, sometimes fully in the shadows. But even in his glamor, he maintained his usual butler pose and his stance was what gave him away.

You weren't sure if he would accept when you asked him to dance. You knew he was a guest at this party, but he had a tendency to go into butler mode even as an attendee. To your delight, he bowed to you and took your hand. You hadn't been sure if he knew who you were, but the way he danced so close to you indicated that he did. Likely, he had known all along. Your suspicions seemed confirmed when he invited you to the kitchen.

You slipped into the kitchen as the party quieted, finding Barbatos making tea. You weren't in doubt of his identity, but the sight was so familiar, any questions were immediately put to rest.

"Come, MC," Barbatos said. "I've brewed your favorite."

You took off your mask. "You always knew it was me, didn't you?"

Barbatos poured you a cup of tea and handed it to you. He met your eyes and took off his own mask. "Just as you always knew it was me."

You put the teacup down on the counter next to your mask. You took Barbatos's face in your hands and kissed him.

Barbatos responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you back.

After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at you. "Your tea will get cold, MC."

"Let it," you said, kissing him again.

Simeon

You really thought it would be easy to find an angel in a room full of demons, even if they were all unrecognizable. You moved from group to group, trying to figure out if you could find Simeon by his words. Perhaps he would say something that would tip you off.

You were unsuccessful still by the time someone asked you to dance. You almost said no, but something stopped you. You cocked your head and considered him. He was graceful, his hand extended, ready to take yours. You couldn't quite place it, but there was something about him that made you think… could it be…? When he asked you to meet him in the guest room later - your room - you were even less sure than before.

When you entered your own room to find him waiting for you, you hesitated.

But then Simeon laughed and no glamor could hide the musical sound of it.

"I'm sorry, MC," he said. "Did I confuse you by asking you to meet me in your room?"

You sighed, coming fully into the room now and taking off your own mask. "It was a little unexpected, yes."

You walked up to Simeon and took off his mask yourself.

"But in the end, your angelic laugh gave you away," you said with a smile.

Simeon blushed. "I only wanted a moment alone with you and this seemed like the best place."

You put your arms around him. "It is," you said.

Simeon kissed you without prompting, his arms tightening around your waist and pulling you into him.

Solomon

You were the only two humans in the room. Maybe that was all it took. Perhaps it was the unmistakable bond between master and apprentice. You could even argue that after all the time you'd spent doing spells together, you simply knew the feeling of the other's magic. Whatever the reason, both you and Solomon knew each other upon first sight.

You both deliberately kept your distance, each of you sending glances at the other across the room at regular intervals. It was a look of knowing, a soft smile, quick eye contact, a conversation without words. You were the first one to ask him to dance. He accepted right away, holding you closer than a stranger would dare to as you moved together to the slow song that was playing.

You were a little startled when Solomon teleported you right off the dance floor. You grabbed onto his arms as the room spun a bit before resolving into his own room at Purgatory Hall.

You took a step back and folded your arms, frowning at him. "Was that really necessary?"

Solomon chuckled. "You sound upset, MC. After all those looks you gave me tonight, I thought you would want us to be alone."

You blushed and were grateful that you were still wearing your mask. "I mean, yes, obviously, but now everybody's going to be in uproar about it."

"No they won't," Solomon said, putting his arms around you again. "Nobody knew who you were, did they?"

You suspected that some of the others had figured out your identity. But the look in Solomon's still glamored eyes made your stomach flip and you found you no longer cared. You took off his mask and yours, tossing them aside before kissing him.

Mephistopheles

Maybe you wouldn't have known Mephistopheles with the glamor, but he gave himself away with his haughty demeanor. He moved around the room with his chin up, following Diavolo like a puppy. Everyone in the room was aware of Diavolo's identity, so it only made sense that the one constantly seeking his attention was likely Mephisto.

You approached and asked him to dance, knowing that his sense of correct manners would prevent him from saying no. He didn't seem to be able to tell exactly who you were as you danced with him. You wanted to ask him to meet you later, but you weren't sure if he would agree. So instead you mentioned that Lord Diavolo was going to be in the music room.

You were pleased to find Mephisto waiting when you showed up in the music room. He turned to you and frowned.

"I thought you said Lord Diavolo would be here," he said.

You took off your mask. "I'm sorry," you said. "I only said that because I didn't think you'd come if I just asked."

Mephisto's frown deepened as he took off his own mask. "You? What do you want?"

You came closer, tapping his chest with your fingertips, smile teasing. "Oh I don't know. It's a party. You seemed so tense and preoccupied. I thought you might like to let go a little."

Mephisto blushed, but he caught your hand in his. "And I suppose you think you can help me with that?"

You leaned forward, your faces almost touching. "If you let me."

Mephisto pulled your hand so you stumbled forward a little and your lips crashed into his. His arm wrapped around you and you couldn't resist putting your other hand on his cheek as you kissed him back.

Raphael

Raphael was almost painfully obvious. You even heard him say something about spears, which instantly let you know who you were dealing with. He seemed oblivious about who you were and he also seemed like he didn't particularly care who was who at all.

That was, until you asked him to dance. He agreed, but it was clear to you that he was puzzled. Not just about who you were, but why you wanted to dance with him. He likely thought you were a demon and therefore would want to stay far away from him. And yet, as the dance went on, he relaxed, which surprised you. Had he realized who you were? You thought he must have when he asked you to meet him in the garden.

When you arrived, he turned to look at you. He had already removed his mask and he had a rose in his hand, which he handed to you as you came closer.

"I asked you to come out here so I could give you this," he said, his voice serious, his demeanor as stiff as it always was.

You held the rose carefully and looked at him. "Do you… know who I am?"

Raphael smiled and it transformed his face. One moment he had been staring at you with an almost stern expression, but now there was a sweet softness that you rarely saw. "Of course I do, MC."

You sighed and took off your mask. "What gave me away?"

Raphael blushed lightly. "It was your kindness. I did not think a demon would ask to dance with me. I would have recognized if it had been Simeon or Solomon."

You couldn't help yourself. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. To your complete surprise, Raphael put his hands on your waist, keeping you there and kissing you back. You found out in that moment how soft Raphael could become.

Thirteen

You expected it to be difficult to find Thirteen. You thought she likely didn't even want to be at the party at all. So you supposed she would keep to herself. But you should have known she wouldn't be able to give up a chance to trap a certain sorcerer. She had brought a trap that looked absolutely terrifying, but before it could be sprung, Barbatos intercepted it and had her take it apart.

She was sulking about the lost opportunity when you asked her to dance. The way she brightened up immediately made you think she must know it was you. You were the only one she seemed to genuinely like. She danced with you happily, smiling the whole time. When the dance was over, she asked you to meet her later in the planetarium.

As soon as you arrived, she was at your side. "MC! You came!"

You laughed and took off your mask. "How did you know it was me?"

Thirteen giggled. "Your shiny soul, of course! It was the first thing I saw when I got here!"

You blushed and reached out to take her mask off, too. "I might not have figured out who you were if it wasn't for that trap you brought."

Thirteen frowned and shook her head. "Barbatos ruined my chance."

You took her hand. "Maybe, but I'm sure you'll come up with an even better trap for Solomon."

Thirteen pulled you closer, her smile back. "You're so sweet, aren't you, MC?"

"Only to you," you said, leaning in and pausing only a breath away from Thirteen's lips.

Thirteen needed no further prompting, letting her lips meet yours as your arms slid around her.

Arsenios

The live band playing on the small stage seemed to consist of a group of demons all wearing the glamor-giving masks. You were a little mesmerized by the one who was playing the piano, but you had no idea who he was at first. You watched them play as you moved about the room, your eyes always going back to the demon at the piano. A few times, he looked up and met your eyes.

You noticed when band members began to take breaks, one of them leaving the stage while the others played something soft and mellow. So you were hovering by the drink table when the demon who had been playing the piano came to the table for some water.

"Hey there, MC," he said as he filled a little cup from a large glass jug with slices of Devildom citrus floating in it.

You frowned. "You know me?"

He shrugged and drank the whole cup in one long gulp. "There's a rhythm to the way you walk," he said.

Something about the way he said this clued you in to his identity. "Arsenios?"

He took off his mask, revealing that you were correct. "I didn't think you'd know me."

You pretended to be offended. "Really? Who else would recognize someone by the rhythm of their walk?"

Arsenios chuckled. "Yeah, okay, smart ass," he said.

You grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the drinks and into the nearest empty room, which happened to be the library. He let you lead him, an amused expression on his face when you turned back to him.

"I'm glad you're here tonight," you said. "Even if it is as the entertainment."

Arsenios reached up to remove your mask. He put it carefully aside before cupping your cheek in his hand. "And? Are you entertained?"

You leaned toward him. "Not yet."

Arsenios pulled you close and kissed you, arms enclosing you. You could just hear the soft strains of the music - sans piano - behind the beating of your heart.

part 1 with the demon brothers

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me fluff #obey me flufftober #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #om diavolo #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #obey me simeon #om simeon #obey me solomon #om solomon #obey me mephistopheles #om mephistopheles #obey me raphael #om raphael #obey me thirteen #om thirteen #obey me oc #obey me oc arsenios #misc oc arsenios #misc flufftober 2023 #misc writes

[skipper19]

(A bit of self comfort, because my body feels 100× heavier, and I've been puking since 3 am. this morning. And now, even after the puking era is over, my chest feels like there is a huge hole in it every time I breathe or laugh.)

Imagine this..

Dabi sighs as he fishes the keys out of his back pocket. "Domestic shit.." He scoffs into the chilly night air. Jingling of keys and a click of the front door unlocking interrupted the peacful atmosphere of the apartment complex hallway. Dabi would never admit it, not to you or anyone else, but he was worried about you.

His calls and texts had gone unanswered all day. That was very unlike you. Thanks to your at home job (and your lack of a social life), Dabi never had to think about if you were truly busy or not. Plus, most of the time, you informed him if you were going out for any reason at all. He never told you to do this, and he even made it clear that you didn't have to tell him shit, but you reassured him that you wanted to.

That was one thing Dabi loved about you. You were his loyal girl. He trusted you not to break his charred heart. If anything, he knew he would eventually have to break yours.

Dabi quietly stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind him. He paused and listened for any indication of another person in the abode, but he couldn't hear nor see a thing. All the lights were off, and it was uncomfortably cold. Dabi felt a shiver run up his spine. This was so unlike you.

His normally warm and inviting baby.

Dabi didn't dare call out into the seemingly empty home, just in case. The further Dabi ventured into the apartment, the more he began hearing noises. Right outside your bedroom, Dabi could hear wheezing and shaky exhales. With the worst thought plaguing his mind, Dabi entered the bedroom. Only, he didn't find what he was expecting.

Thank God.

Dabis eyes widened the slightest at the sight before him. You were huddled under your blankets, a trashcan sat idly next to the bed, as you wheezed to breathe in your sleep. You looked pale, and your nose and lips were light pink. Dabi immediately walked to your heater and turned it on high. He didn't care for the electricity bills.

When he approached your bedside, he was hesitant in waking you up. You looked awful.

Dabi gently (surprisingly) laid his hand on your arm and softly rubbed his thumb in circles on your clothed skin. "Baby doll, wake up." He spoke quietly. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and your lips formed a cute pout. Dabi crouched, so he was face to face with you. "Wake up, baby." He spoke a little louder. Your eyes finally opened and fell to the ocean blues in front of you.

"Touya?" You mumbled. Dabi nearly melted at the use of his real name. Your weak and whiney voice turned him soft, yet he would never admit it. "Yeah, it's me. Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been trying to contact you all day. Had me thinking you were dead or some shit.." His words made you glance to your phone. "I've been sleeping all day.. I don't feel good." You whispered. Dabi sighed. "I can see that much." He retorted.

A sudden whine left your lips as you curled in on yourself. "I-I don't feel good." Tears welded in your eyes as you clamped your eyes shut. Dabi moved the trashcan closer to you, and sure enough, you leaned over the side of the bed and puked your guts out. Dabi stood up and looked away as he held your hair from your face. He wasn't good at emotional support, but he knew that seeing you like this twisted his gut almost painfully.

Once you were finished, Dabi soothingly rubbed your back before bringing the trashcan to the bathtub and washing it out. He didn't think there was any point and getting you to brush your teeth, considering this definitely wouldn't be the last time you threw up tonight. Dabi came back into your bedroom and placed the trashcan can by your bedside once again. He then cradled your chin in his hand and used a wet rag to wipe your mouth and chin. He threw the dirty cloth in the hamper nearby.

"Take a deep breath, baby, I know." He softly said as you clutched your stomach with one hand and wiped the tears away with the other. "I don't like puking.." You cried. "I'm pretty sure no one does," He teased. "But hey, it's over for now. Take a deep breath and try to go back to sleep." He said as he placed his palm on your forhead. Yep, you had a fever.

Tears faded and soon crying decreased, letting Dabi know you would fall asleep soon. He stood up, only for a weak tug on his coat sleeve to stop him from moving. "Please don't go.." You pleaded. Dabi leaned down and kissed your forhead. "I'm not going anywhere, baby doll, I'm just going to go make you some soup." He reassured. You hesitatantly let go of his jacket and retracted your arm back under the covers. Dabi took this opportunity to retreat to the kitchen.

He sighed and took off his jacket before hanging it on a chair nearby. He didn't know how to cook shit.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

About two hours go by, and Dabi finally has some resemblance of "soup" sitting in a pot on your stove. He pinched the ridge of his nose. A headache was quickly forming behind his eyes, which reminded him, you need some medication..

Dabi entered your bedroom with a bowl of soup, water, and two pills ready. He set the supplies down on the bedside table, where he noticed that your phone was lighting up with messages. He glanced at your sleeping form (now facing the opposite direction) and grabbed your phone. Dabi always teased you about what an introvert you are, "And everyone says I'm the loner," he would say, so, yes, these repetitive messages were odd. Dabi entered the phones password and raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Must be her editor.." Dabi mumbled as he pressed on the text bubble. The action sent him straight to the chat room with, technically, your boss. Dabis eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he scrolled through the many unread messages. Constant pestering about your books deadline and your absence in responding to him. The bastard went as far as to try guilt, tripping you into writing more on your book, despite your message yesterday that you didn't feel too well. Your last message to the guy, and enough that he should have left you alone.

Dabi sent a quick message to the douchbag and smirked as the guy began blowing up the device once again. Dabi only silenced the notification sound in response.

He then cut off your phone before tossing it back on the wooden desk. He sat himself on the bed next to your huddled form and gently rocked your shoulder. He smirked when you curled closer to yourself and shivered. "I've got some medicine and food for you, but you have to sit up." You grumbled, yet you slowly complied. Though Dabi did have to help you move thanks to your limbs, feeling the weight of elephants sitting atop them.

You were sitting against your bed frame with the blankets wrapped around your shoulder, lidded eyes, and pouting lips. You looked adorable.

"You're going to eat some of this soup, and then you can take these pills." Dabi said as he brought the bowl of food to his lap. Dabi didn't acknowledge your sniffle nor your hiccup, as he brought the spoon up to his lips and blew on the substance. After he was sure it wouldn't burn your tongue, he brought the spoon to your lips. You weakly opened your mouth and allowed him to feed you.

He noticed that you resisted the urge to gag. "My cooking really that bad?" He joked. You lightly smiled and shook your head. "No.. I just really don't want to eat anything.. I've lost my appetite for days because of this stupid stomach bug.." You admitted. Dabi hummed but didn't say a word.

He continued to feed you until you physically couldn't eat anymore. Dabi took the bowl to the kitchen and placed it in your sink before returning by your bedside. He helped you take the pills before laying you back down to rest some more. He kept you facing him this time, in case the trashcan was in need of use. His hand unconsciously rubbed soft circles into your arm.

"You probably shouldn't stay.. I don't want you getting sick, Touya.." You mumbled sleepily. The effect of bile running up your throat all day was obvious on your voice. Dabi only chuckled and shook his head before pushing some hair from your face. "Nah.. I've got no place better to be than right here taking care of my baby."

#mha touya #bnha dabi #dabi #mha dabi #dabi x reader #mha x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #bnha touya #touya todoroki #touya x reader #fluff #sick reader #fanfic #comfort

[respectthepetty]

How do you feel about PheeJin. I'm conflicted. I can see that Phee actually caught feelings, even if he feels guilty about Non still. And Phee and Jin do have chemestry. But I don't know. There was something was missing for me, I guess maybe it felt too fast.

Anyway what do you think are the chances of Phee/Non reunion?? Shall we clown together for a happy ending, or do you no longer see them coming back together??

@italianpersonwithashippersheart, because I'm crazy, once I realized Phi took Jin to Eden from the previews last week, I mentally pushed Jin off a cliff and focused on one sole thing -

NON IS ALIVE!

TLWR: It could get messy between Phi x Jin, White is a problem or salvation, and . . . Keng might be alive too *eye roll*

This entire theory can go up in flames in the next episode, but come with me for a second to Optimistic City:

I thought Phi was the mastermind and that Tan came along for the ride, but Tan is actually the mastermind while Phi is being dragged along. I like that Phi caught feelings for Jin because, hopefully, this means Phi is going to tell Jin about this crazy plan to get a confession, and it's going to come back around that Jin recorded the video; therefore, these two are going to look at each other with disgust unless they are like Babe from Pit Babe and completely cool with it, which I'm also very cool with.

When Phi didn't drink the water, I instantly was like "oh, so he knows it's spiked with drugs!" but then he commented when Jin was freaking out that he hadn't realized it was spiked.

And I love this because it implies that Tan has always had a different agenda and has left Phi out of it.

Since it seems Tan knows more details than we thought.

So if Dead Friend Forever is giving me a story about brotherly love rather than one of romantic love . . .

Then who am I to argue with a tale of redemption.

Which is why I think Keng might be alive.

People have pointed out one of the masked killers is on crutches.

Which would make sense if someone had gotten hit by a car and the injury didn't heal properly.

I don't want Keng to be alive, but the fact remains that Jin keeps seeing Keng, which we know is a hallucination just like all the other guys, while Tan seemed like he genuinely saw an actual person in the house.

The hooded person also looked up at him, and kept it moving.

Yet Phi hasn't seen or heard anything which is why I thought he knew about this hooded figure and was in on it unlike Tan, but why would the hooded figure stop to peek a glance at Tan?

When Top was attacked, Tan was upstairs "sleeping." Before Uncle Dang showed up to the house, Tan had just arrived to see the aftermath of the fight between Phi and Tee. And Tan was quick to suggest they use Por's place for Jin's farewell party in the first place.

But Phi immediately ran to Jin's house to try to speak to him.

And even questioned Tan! It's been over two years since they infiltrated the group. Why now? Why wait two years for a confession?!

Because it's no longer about a confession for Tan.

I mentioned that if Non is alive, it would make sense that he waited to do something until after Tee's uncle was no longer a threat, and homeboy is dead now!

Tan's hallucination was eerily specific: Non was framed. Expose the Fucked-Up Five. Get Non's forgiveness.

And Tan has always thought ALL of the boys are bad and specifically narrowed in on Jin as the reason for his brother's disappearance.

If Phi truly fell for Jin, he will try to protect Jin against Tan who is going rogue. But Tan needs an inhaler. It could hold the antidote if Tan has bigger plans to kill them all, but my original thought was it would be the perfect way to die without dying. He wouldn't have to get stabbed or hit. It would take no physical injury. He would just need his inhaler and not get to in time.

Stop breathing. Pass out. Be a dead body as chaos continues around him, and when the dust clears after the masked killers have finished everyone off, he gets back up and walks out of the woods as New because Tan who has asthma never existed in the first place.

Non was presumed either dead or missing. Both boys could walk out of those woods without anyone even realizing they were there. The only issue is White, BUT he wasn't supposed to be there either.

And yet he is keeping Tee right where he needs to be.

White's only connection to the group is he is dating Tee for almost three years.

His backstory is as thin as Tan's was, but I have never seen him as "in" on the kills. White hasn't been physically harmed unlike the Fucked-Up Five. White continues to remain in the safety of the house when everyone has to venture outside. I want White to live, so either he has his reasons for being on this trip and keeping Tee out there, or White is really as innocent as he appears and Tan will save the little one as an act of redeeming himself for not saving his brother.

Which would make the thrill of Non being alive even sweeter!

Because it would mean that everyone who "wronged" Non suffered. His mom. His dad. The Fucked-Up Five. Phi. (Keng, please God!). And even possibly his brother unless the narrative allows the brothers to be the final love story. It's scorched earth.

Perth's character still exists, and I think he helped Non survive somehow. I have no idea how all of this will turn out, and I'm excited to see, but the second Phi took Jin to Eden, he was dead to me.

And Non was more alive than ever.

#non is alive #episode ten don't do me dirty #dead friend forever #praying on bended knee that we are getting brothers #Tan is the mastermind #and White is the final gay #please pretty please

[drainslo]

Lovers To Enemies (Chishiya x Reader)

My life was ruined twice.

The first time was when I entered the Borderlands. The last thing I remember was being at home on my couch with my cat, Milo.

He looked at me with his pretty green eyes, his warm body snuggling next to mine. I fell asleep that way, and I found solace with my feline friend.

That was the last time I saw Milo in months.

I woke up in a world without him. A world where I had to fight for my life everyday in games that were designed by someone truly sadistic.

The second time was when I got involved with Chishiya Shuntaro. A man who was not exactly unlike a feline himself.

I loved him. I would like to believe he felt the same. With Chishiya, you never know what he's thinking even if he tells you.

I think I knew how he felt when he kissed my head softly after patching me up post spades game with Niragi. He fell asleep with me in his arms that night, and somehow stayed in the morning.

I think I knew how he felt when he snuck into Hatter's room the next night to change the game schedule so I would never be in a game with Niragi again.

I made a mistake.

I didn't die, but a part of my soul did because now my Chishiya was gone. The kind eyes that had gradually softened in my presence were replaced with those of a stranger.

I was staring into those hardened eyes when Chishiya was dragging me into Hatter's executive room. I didn't even try fighting back, there was no point in doing so. If Chishiya wanted something he would get it.

Knowing Chishiya, it would be so much worse if I resisted.

He shoved me onto the ground, throwing a walkie-talkie next to me. I could feel the punishing eyes of the Beach executives on my back even as I faced the floor.

I lifted my head slowly to find two other people who were in the same position.

I vaguely recognized the girl, Usagi. I played a game with her two nights prior. That was the extent I knew her, and the boy-- Oh God.

It seemed Niragi had taken an interest in him by the way he was staring him down.

"I found her keeping lookout nearby. She tried to distract me but I saw right through her," Chishiya said calmly. My heart stilled. He didn't even look down.

Niragi finally turned his attention my way. He smiled, looking his lips as he looked between me and Usagi. I barely noticed that I was crawling slowly back. It was pure instinct to get myself away from a predator like Niragi.

"Niragi, you can decide what to do with the traitors. Well done Chishiya," Aguni spoke decisively, his eyes focused on a painting of what looked like an elk.

It was funny how of all things I didn't miss that detail.

"I don't know what Chishiya is insinuating, but I have no idea what he's talking about," I said for the first time.

I opened my mouth to elaborate further when I was promptly cut off by Niragi storming over. I felt a pressure on my back that sucked the air out of my lungs. I couldn't speak even if I wanted to.

"Shut up now, or I'll cut your tongue out later," Niragi hissed while digging his boot into my back.

I held my breath. Was this how I was going to die? It felt like my ribs were going to snap from the sharp stabbing pain in the middle of my chest. It abruptly subsided when Niragi lifted his foot away.

He crouched next to me and grinned again. I was forced to look into his eyes when he grabbed my hair and Usagi's to lift our heads up.

"We are going to have some fun before I kill the both of you."

Niragi turned his attention towards the boy and directed his orders to the militants present. "Tie up the boy and blindfold him so he can't play a game. His VISA expires tonight, let him wonder when the laser is going to kill him," he laughed terribly and forced me and Usagi to our feet.

"Walk." He pointed the butt of his gun to our back to direct us out of the room.

My legs didn't immediately move. They were shaking, and it was like i was cemented to the ground.

I was suddenly on the floor again, my knees painfully hitting the ground. It appeared that Niragi had pushed me with his gun out of impatience.

I looked back at the room of executives, at Chishiya who had put me in this position. Chishiya made eye contact with me for the second time, and something undecipherable flashed in his eyes.

No, it was decipherable. It was satisfaction. This was my punishment. Death was the only suitable punishment for a traitor.

But I wouldn't die immediately. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as I thought of it. Niragi would make sure that it would be painful.

Not to mention the fact that I was a woman. He could have his way with me--with Usagi too-- and nobody would blink an eye.

"Walk," Niragi repeated.

I walked.

Usagi and I were led to a hotel room and tied down while Niragi and his convoy followed.

His hungry eyes watched as I felt the chafe of the rope around my wrists. He leaned in, and my breath caught as he slowly trailed his tongue down Usagi's arm. No this could not be happening--

The TV screen now had lit up on its own. The weight of his body hovering over mine dissipated as he got off the bed to look at it.

10 OF HEARTS

GO TO THE LOBBY TO HEAR THE RULES OF THE GAME

"Fuck, right now?" Niragi turned to look towards us, and abruptly left the room.

I was untied by someone. Probably one of the militants out of pity.

Everything started to blur together.

I made it to the lobby with Usagi. There was a witch we had to find. The militants decided to kill and burn everyone. There were so many gunshots, so many screams.

The Beach was on fire.

I waited until I heard the game clear, and snuck into the lobby to see the last card.

I was surprised to find Chishiya there as well, his back to mine as he grabbed it from the table.

I pulled out a gun I had stolen from the body of a militant. The sound echoed through the now empty Beach as I cocked it.

"Don't turn around," I lowered my voice menacingly.

He turned around and stepped towards me.

"Or what?" His eyes were dancing with amusement as he kept walking. "You're going to shoot me?"

He was now standing directly in front of me. We were eye to eye, separated only by the distance of the gun I held.

Chishiya's warm hand overlapped mine as he pushed it to the side. He roughly grabbed my chin to force my mouth on his.

I froze as tingles still ran up my spine when he touched me. It was horrible, I hated him for what he had done to me.

What was even worse was how familiar he was.

I struck him on the head with the gun to break contact. He didn't fall, but now gingerly held the spot where I hit him. His hand that I had just touched now was slowly turning crimson from the wound.

"I hope we never meet again," Chishiya smirked and swiftly strode away from the flames.

It was then I realized he took the card with him.

Read Part 2

#aib chishiya #chishiya x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #imawa no kuni no arisu #shuntaro chishiya #imawa no kuni no alice #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #aib

[prettywordsblog]

PAIRING Roman & gn reader

SUMMARY two friends, catching up. But the topic of childhood memories spark tensions.

WORD COUNT 1.7k

THEMES angst, one sided feelings, Roman being Roman

A/N got inspired when I was reading dog and bone on ao3 (go read it)

You and Roman have known each other since childhood. You, being Logan’s goddaughter, had grown up quite close to all the Roy children, but being closer in age to Roman meant that the two of you stuck together. Luckily, you never endured Logan’s toxicity— directly at least.

You often witnessed his wrath, unleashing on his poor children. It always made your head spin. Often, you’d stay up late, comforting whichever child that fell victim to his anger. And even more often, this was Roman.

The door of your apartment clicks open.

“Roman?”

“Nyello,” You hear his voice behind you. “I always forget how much I love your apartment. I really feel like I’m part of the lower middle class whenever I’m in here.”

You roll your eyes at his snarkiness, but smile. It’s nice to see your old friend.

“You really took your sweet time getting here didn’t you?”

He checks his watch. “Time is relative. I’m basically on time.”

“If on time means an hour late, sure.”

“We’re just hanging out, what’s the rush?” He sits on the couch across from you, slumping down on it like a bored schoolboy.

You raise your eyebrows “Well, if you showed up on time, we’d have more time together. Beer?”

“Yes please, madam” He says ‘madam’ with a certain sarcasm.

You grab two bottles and hand one to him. The two of you drink and talk for hours, like time hasn’t passed since you last saw each other. The conversations go from childish banter, to the siblings and the family.

“Maybe Logan will drop dead soon and you won’t have to worry about it anymore. He’s prehistoric.” You scoff. “I bet he witnessed that asteroid killing the dinosaurs.”

“Fingers crossed. But you know he’ll live forever just because he’s the embodiment of evil, and evil never dies.”

“I guess you’ll be around for a while then.”

“Oh fuck off,” He rolls his eyes. “I’m good. Unlike Dad I don’t have the soul of a sadist lurking under my skin.”

“Yeah, true. You got the soul of a masochist instead”

“Is that why I’m sitting here drinking beer with you instead of someone whose company I actually enjoy?”

You smile. “Yep.”

He takes a hearty sip of beer. “Sounds about right.”

Hours continue to pass. Time with him seems to fly by.

“Oh man, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow morning when my head is banging and I'm remembering everything I said to you tonight.” He puts the fourth bottle down.

“Hey,” You shoot him a look. “Talking to me is a blessing.”

“Hanging out with you like this is a sign I’ve truly hit rock bottom. I mean, I could be out doing something else.” He crosses his arms and puffs his chest out ever so slightly. He thinks he looks cool, but he’s clearly forgetting he’s a tiny, insecure man.

“Uh huh,” You nod, unamused. “Like what? Flirting with women and then getting scared when they wanna sleep with you?”

“Shut up. I have the worst friends.”

“Friend, you mean. There’s just me.”

“Well, you’re a shitty enough friend. I don’t need more.”

You smirk. You know he doesn’t mean it. It’s easy for you to see past the rude comments, despite the fact he hasn’t always been like this. “Glad I’m special enough to be the only one.” You pull your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross on the couch.

“At least somebody likes me. Well I don't even know if you like me actually, I think you just tolerate me because I'm your childhood friend and you've already invested too many years in this relationship to quit now.”

You shrug. “That’s definitely one theory.”

You think to yourself for a moment and chuckle. “You know, when I think about it, neither of us really had other friends growing up. Same with Kendall and Connor and Shiv.”

He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, I guess we never really did.”

“No wonder we’re such awful people”

“Well, I definitely think you're onto something. We're just a sad bunch of lonely little shits aren't we?”

“Roman? Talking about his feelings?” You let out a fake gasp. He’s not exactly talking about his feelings, but it’s rare he’s honest like this.

“Oh, shove it. I just had a thought, and I'm allowed to have thoughts.”

“You know what, it’s actually nice that you’re not having weird, perverse thoughts for once. Maybe this is good.”

“Hey. I’m not as depraved as you are. Whore.”

“Mhm,” You take another sip of beer. “Remember that time you sent your own father a dick pic?”

He groans. “I’ve told you this before. It was for another girl, who just happened to be under Dad’s contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. He left out the part about how it was for Gerri. “Oh yeah, speaking of that. How’s it going in the uh, woman department?”

“Well, it's pretty dead actually. I've just been so focused on trying to avoid my father's wrath recently I haven't had time for any more of my womanizing ways…”

“You could always go for the geriatrics in ATN, since that seems to be your type.”

“Oh yeah, those are the only women who would sleep with me right?”

“I figure you’d like it that way,” You laugh.

“Har har.” He rolls his eyes.

A moment of silence passes. Talking to Roman again had been sending waves of nostalgia all night. It’s only been a couple months since you’ve seen him, but it felt like ages. Your mind wanders down memory lane, particularly to the sweet, intimate moments you shared with him in your youth. You hesitate to bring things up, but decide there’s no harm in it.

“Remember when we used to sleep together all the time when we were little? ‘Cus you were scared of sleeping alone?”

He pauses, and then snickers. “My god, you have some nerve. Are you trying to embarrass me now?”

You scoff. “Way to ruin a potentially sentimental moment. I was just… reminiscing.”

“Reminiscing? Oh yeah I’m sure, you’re just all sentimental about our childhood. Is that what you call it?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Jesus is it that weird that I think about it every now and then?”

“Well, for normal people maybe not, but for you it is a little weird I must say. You know why?”

Your nose wrinkles as you shoot him a look. “Why’s that?”

“Because you're you. And I know you're not just reminiscing and thinking about the "good old days." I know you're thinking about us and how we used to be and what could've been.”

Your mouth drops open slightly. The sudden aggression makes something in your stomach churn. It reminds you of Logan, in a way.

But you just inhale deeply and turn your head towards the window.

“Oh please, don't you play dumb with me! I know you better than anyone else does.”

You get up abruptly to throw the empty cans of beer away. “You’re such a dick.”

He gets up as well. “Oh, I'm the dick, okay. Because I can see what you're feeling and you're clearly not used to anyone actually reading your emotions so now you're freaking out and getting all pissy at me.”

“You don’t have to rub salt in the wound.”

“So there’s a wound?” He puts his hands on his hips, in the typical Roman fashion.

You narrow your eyes and him. “Yes. There’s several.”

“Oh come on, it was such a long time ago.”

“I would be over it if I wasn’t strung along by you all the time, like a fucking dog. I’m always stuck at your side but you just get to do whatever you want because you’re Roman Roy.”

He groans. “Oh please, don't even start with me. You love being at my side, because I'm the only person you know that actually treats you with a modicum of respect, unlike my father who's a walking pile of dogshit you've grown used to, or Kendall who is just an entitled brat, or Shiv who doesn't even see you as a person. But I still treat you like a human being despite all the crap you've put me through over the years. You just don't want to admit that I'm the most decent person in this whole rotten family.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut, turning away from him. “God, you drive me insane.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome to my world.”

You lean against your kitchen counter. You can’t believe his audacity. To bring up the fact you still want him after all these years, to bring it up like it’s nothing. You never even told him.

You always forget how perceptive he is.

“I stick by your side ‘cus I know no one has your back like I do.” You mutter.

“Yeah, that's true. But you know what else is true? The reason you keep sticking by my side is because deep down you still believe that I might return those feelings for you one day.”

Your heart drops even more. You want to say something, something quippy. But you can’t, all you can feel is that burning in your throat, and you know you won’t be able to say anything without coughing up sobs. So you sit there. And sniffle quietly.

His gaze softens, however. He feels panic arize in him, snapping out of his ill-mannered mood. “Hey, wait. Don't cry. God, I hate it when you cry. Hey, hey, don't get all teary eyed on me. You know how much I don't like it when you're upset.”

He walks over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, trying to present a scrap of regret. “Don't cry, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me tonight. I'm sorry, I am. You're my best friend. You are, and you always will be. I don't know what I'd do without you to be completely honest.”

Seconds pass silently. He stands there, not knowing what to do, other than attempting to comfort you as he watches tears stream down the side of your face.

“…Rome?”

“Yeah?”

“… Can we lay down together? Like I mentioned earlier?”

You feel his grip on your shoulders lighten. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s do that, it’s okay.”

The two of you walk to your bedroom, not a word spoken. You lay down beside him, looking up at your ceiling.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” He finally says.

You move your hand on top of his, gently running your thumb alongside his. “It’s been a while.”

“A long while.”

#roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession #kieran culkin #angst

[whoreadsnowadays]

A little something I wrote out after class today <3

-

Can be seen as platonic or romantic, gender neutral + they/them reader

Making breakfast with Rise!Mikey

-

Breakfast Therapy

You loved staying over at the turtles lair, hanging out with all four turtles was always a treat, but you especially loved the morning after.

Every time you slept over, without fail, Mikey would come careening into the projector room at some ungodly hour of the morning, and drag you off the couch, waking you up very violently in the process.

The first time it happened, he didn't realize you were asleep, and proceeded to apologize over and over. But by now he didn't really care that he was waking you up, he knew you didn't mind all that much despite your protests.

So now, like every other morning you were here, you were in the kitchen with Mikey, the both of you cooking up a big breakfast.

This morning specifically, you were busy frying pancakes, while Mikey stood to the side, waiting for the toast he had put in to pop up.

"So.." the turtle, still in his pajamas, spoke softly next to you. "..you like staying here right?"

You glanced over at him, noticing his slouched posture as he leaned forward against one of the counters beside you. "Of course, I love spending time with you guys. Why?"

He glanced away, pursing his lips as he seemed to think about his next words. This was unlike him, usually during your morning breakfast routine he was bouncing off the walls, but today he seemed gloomy.

"Just making sure I guess? I dunno..." he glanced up at you, before looking back down to the toaster in front of him. "..I just wanted to make sure you were having fun."

You hummed, watching the pancakes in front of you before turning slightly to look at him. "I promise, I'm having the best time ever. You know I like to cook, and cooking with a partner is about as fun as it gets."

You tried to reassure him as much as you could without truly knowing what was bothering him. You had a hunch of course, but you couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

Mikey smiled as he looked back up at you, "Even at seven in the morning?"

You laughed lightly, turning back to the pancakes to flip them in the pan. "Yeah, even at seven in the morning."

He grinned as a silence fell over the both of you again. You both went back to your tasks, but you couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of your head.

Finally after a few moments, you spoke again, softer this time. "..what brought this on?"

You felt Mikey stiffen beside you, before slowly he relaxed again. "...had a nightmare last night." He mumbled, almost inaudible.

"Just.. made me doubt some stuff, but.." his pause made you look over, to see him already looking at you, a grateful smile on his face. "I don't think I have to worry about any of it."

You mirrored his smile and nodded, taking the subtle hint and letting the topic go with a simple, "Good, I'm glad."

And you were left with a warm feeling in your chest as Mikey's toast popped, and the feeling persisted as you finished the pancakes, and watched as Mikey fished the butter and syrup from the fridge.

And it only got stronger as the other turtles wandered into the kitchen without being called, almost as if they were waiting for their breakfast that was sure to come after your sleepover the night before. Even Splinter had wandered into the kitchen, always eager to get a home-cooked meal from the two of you. Maybe this was why he let you stay over so often?

But that didnt matter right now, you had a crowd of hungry mutants to feed.

You shared a look with Mikey before you both brought the large plate of pancakes and toast to the table, handing the butter and syrup out to the tired group.

You smiled as they all muttered about how good your cooking was, and in turn you simply put an arm around Mikey, and stated you couldn't have done it without him.

And as Mikey smiled that big goofy smile of his, you realized you'd really do anything for these guys. Splinter included.

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt michelangelo #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt michelangelo #Romeo Writes

[sukibenders]

(1) I hate that they gave laena the 'consolation prize' treatment to prop up daemyra. I obviously think laena deserved much better than daemon but at least in the book she seemed happy and loved, and the way her character was described sounded like someone who would've loved the life they had in the show (except for the part where she couldn't see her family as much as she wanted). Not that i like laena being reduced to daemon's love interest (or simply to what she meant in his life) but the show was never gonna give her more than that with the way they rushed through things so they could've at least focused on them and not on 'how can we use this character and marriage to highlight even more that daemon wanted rhaenyra and would only ever be happy with her'. They made laena unhappy and unloved to show that daemon was depressed cause he couldn't be with rhaenyra.

In the context of the show they could've made daemon and laena marry and leave to see the world and be happy away from the place, people and customs that made them unhappy or chained them down. Laena would've loved that i'm sure, and they still could've made time to visit her family at driftmark. Laena could've been a woman daemon didn't expect to fall for but did, a love that filled his heart and life despite the way he missed rhaenyra; their time together and the family they formed could've been idyllic while it lasted. It could've been an oasis in the desert for daemon and a truly happy (short) time for laena, before tragedy fell on them in such a horrible way.

Yes to everything you said! Now, keep in mind that while haven't read the books themselves I still know things about them from like.....Google search and just learning from people who've read it. Now, for how easy it was for me, it makes no sense as to why Condal and Sarah whoever and the rest of the creating team for the show couldn't do the same because it seems like they either 1.) had no idea the difference between show and book Laena (which is bs) or 2.) simply didn't care and really wanted to center Daemyra (which seems more likely for how much they focus on the two together). But back to your point. I personally don't like Daemon that much either, really only care about him for his proximity to, mostly, Laena and their children, but from what I've seen, him and Laena were relatively happy and he did love her. Like aside from him killing her betrothed, if he didn't then knowing who this character is there would have been signs that their marriage held difficulty (I do believe the same couldn't be said for Daemyra in the end but that could be a factor of the war) but there weren't. Because, unlike what the show presents, he genuinely loved not only her but his daughters as he brought them to court and King's Landing multiple times.

In context of the show, to add more backstory behind their relationship: you could had Laena growing into herself as a woman, having contrast when we last saw her in prior episode, and have her know her worth (better than her parents trying to give her off to the king). She rides the largest and influential dragons in the world (I would have added a scene of her claiming Vhagar personally but Condal saw it as "unimportant" which was stupid) and comes from one of the richest houses in Westeros. With that in mind we could see her actively seeking Daemon out, like in the show during the wedding, because she knows that she wants him and she will make him notice her. Regardless of what any toxic Daemyra stan says, Daemon not only noticed her but was enthralled as well because he followed her to the dance floor and hardly took his eyes off of her when they were together. We could of had a scene of him explaining his travels and how he isn't burdened by the society around them (foreshadowing their future) and then, when the fighting starts, have him protect her from harm. Their marriage, to even hone in more that he loved her and didn't view her as a replacement for Rhaenyra, show him seek her out this time but, surprise, she turns him down because she views him as still wanting Rhaenyra. It isn't until he kills Bravos (which good for her because I would have added that too) and goes to her father for her hand that she (and the audience) truly realizes that he wants her. They get married and there's actual love there between them because Daemon, keeping good on his word, builds a life for her that isn't weighed down by their society around them and provides her a freedom that she definitely wouldn't of had with Bravos or Viserys. We could see them bonding and enjoying one another's company during their travels (have Laena send letters to Laenor about the new places they have been) and she ends up pregnant with the twins or (because in show I think Baela is older) becomes pregnant with Baela and then Rhaena later on (which could have been a difficult pregnancy that could also explain why it took them a while to try again) early into their marriage because they were just so involved with one another. When Laena nears her end they could had her beg Daemon to take her to Vhagar, for one last ride, have him carry her with the girls behind him, have them hold Laena, their mother, one last time and watch as Vhagar flies overhead with her one last time (this could even add to their story more such as Baela wanting to build her relationship with Moondancer more as to be similar to that of Laena and Vhagar to Rhaena desperately wanting a dragon to feel what her mother felt). We could had this instead of that brutal death scene because, Sarah, I have choice words with her because even the actress for older Laena asked why that plot was added. We all know why it was added because, whether intentional or not, it feels more likely used to prop Rhaenyra's death as more badass as, already, I'm seeing takes of how her dying by dragon fire was a dragon riders death---even though, in the books I think, and actual dragon riders death was being able to ride your dragon one last time and then, by that context, doesn't that mean many of the Targaryen enemies died a dragon riders death as well....?

All of this could have fit in the show (maybe even more with a few more episodes----which still surprises me how many there are because of its predecessor GOT *reminiscing when shows had more episodes*) but if not, then some scenes within the existing episodes could have been cropped or scrapped altogether (especially certain scenes like Aegon jerking off or the disgusting foot scene). It wasn't hard for the HOTD creators to add this, especially into the context of the show (or maybe Condal just doesn't have vision) as what I presented was very simple. But instead, there was a very obvious centering of Daemyra from Laena feeling like a second choice to Daemon not wanting to return home (wonder why) and as a result keeps Laena and the girls from returning home too and so on and so forth. Like they couldn't even let this man shed a tear at his wife's funeral (he laughs instead) and then have him sleep with his niece (who thought that was a good idea) and ignore his daughters for his niece's children even though they were bruised.

These choices do a lot of damage not just from a plot standpoint with Daemon, but the implications. Firstly, there is, to me personally, very little good shown for Daemon that would make me see him as a morally grey character. Like even with Rhaenyra little is shown (why was his ass sitting in a chair while his pregnant wife is standing?) it doesn't read that much like a man who deeply cares for his family. If they had shown him actively in love with Laena and caring for their little family (like they do in the books), then I would have changed my mind, but they didn't. They couldn't even have him say that he loved her when Rhaenyra ask (don't get me started on her saying to him "you abandoned me" but doesn't add Laena in the context as well considering in the books they were friends, could have been another way to add details from the books subtly). Even his relationship with Rhaenyra's kids seems surface level. I actually like book Daemon more than show, and it's because of the things I listed. Instead, in the show, he just, personally, seems like a grooming piece of shit husband (like his brother).

Now on to the implications. When the Velaryons were confirmed to be black in the show, I was excited because I heard great things about the house and characters itself and was like "yeah, black people in fantasy especially on dragons", even forgetting the negative experiences I had as a black audience viewer from GOT and their treatment of poc characters. But I should have known. From the costume design to the wigs, it was already a sign. Seeing more scenes with the white characters than Laena and Laenor, who were crucial to the story and have them put into tropes instead was disheartening. For Laena, it's the disposable black girlfriend (or wife in this case) who can't measure up to Rhaenyra, Daemon's one true love, and can't even have her story be told how it deserves. For Laenor it could be the absent father trope because we see more scenes with Rhaenyra spending time with the children than him, barely see them grieve his "death" before they move on and he is never mentioned again. I won't get into Baela and Rhaena here too much yet until I see how s2 plays out, but already have issues with their character plot in the show and have little hope for the future for them if I'm being honest.

#hotd #house of the dragon #laena valeryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemyra #anti daemon targaryen #ask #lunars ask

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 16: The Wisdom

Spoliers here! Get your spoilers here! This is a reread and I've read every book in the series except the ones that came out after it was over and I will tell you every detail that ever happened out of spite if you don't take this opportunity to protect yourself now! Run away!

We get yet another new chapter icon as we move into this chapter. Three leaves on a vine, and boy does it symbolize a lot. For this chapter it represents Nynaeve and her crashing the party. As we go forward it will refer to Tinkers, Ogier (particularly Loial) and the Waygates built for them, and even the Green Man.

“We don’t have time for that, boy,” Thom said gruffly. Min gave the white-haired gleeman a sharp look. “Go juggle something,” she snapped, drawing Rand further away from the others.

I can't tell what's better, Thom assuming that Rand's ducking out of the meeting to make out with a random woman, or Min telling Thom to go play with his balls. It's a strong showing though!

You’re all in more danger today than yesterday. Since she came.

Min, I'm going to be honest with you: you are the worst person in the world when it comes to interpreting your visions. There are assholes who grew up literally on your hometown's antipode with more skill than you. Right now, you're making Rand think that the danger is supposed to be Nynaeve, and that's crazy talk. Everyone is in more danger right now than they were a little while ago when you tormented Rand last because he's gone off and antagonized two sets of people.

Also, I forgot to mention last night, but all of Rand's actions are the equivalent of Frodo accidentally putting on the One Ring in the inn in Bree. I guess that makes Nynaeve Strider, which is awesome but of course nonsense because Lan is Strider. Thank goodness it's not one-to-one. Really I'd say every member of the nine EotW crew (counting Loial) has equivalences with two or more members of the Fellowship. Nynaeve's other half is Sam, for example.

Moiraine and Nynaeve sat at opposite ends of the table, neither taking her eyes from the other. All the other chairs were empty. Moiraine’s hands rested on the table, as still as her face. Nynaeve’s braid was thrown over her shoulder, the end gripped in one fist; she kept giving it little tugs the way she did when she was being even more stubborn than usual with the Village Council. Perrin was right. Despite the fire it seemed freezing cold, and all coming from the two women at the table.

I don't have anything to say here, I just really like it.

“You . . . followed our trail?” Lan said, truly surprised for the first time that Rand could remember. “I must be getting careless.”

This is the exact moment that Lan realizes what love is, and unlike so many of the romances in this series I'm quite happy with this one because as minimal as their reasons are they're perfectly good ones. Nynaeve is talented enough to best Lan and he's awestruck. Good.

“If you can follow a trail I have tried to hide, he taught you well. Few can do that, even in the Borderlands.” Abruptly Nynaeve buried her face in her cup. Rand’s eyes widened. She was blushing.

And this is the exact moment that Nynaeve falls in love, because Lan doesn't give her shit, he doesn't dismiss her for being too young, he just tells her she's as incredible as she knows she is.

They’d swarm over this inn like murderous ants on a rumor, a whisper. Their hate is that strong, their desire to kill or take any like these two.

Also Thom, Rand royally pissed them off earlier. You all should probably know that. It's a real shame none of you know that.

“We can’t,” Rand said, and was glad that his friends all spoke up at the same time. That way Nynaeve’s glare had to be spread around; she spared no one as it was. But he had spoken first, and they all fell silent, looking at him. Even Moiraine sat back in her chair, watching him over steepled fingers.

I mean she's way more moral about all of this but she is technically part of a cabal trying to bring about the fulfillment of prophecy to usher in a new age of humankind, and the reluctant teenage boy is finally promising to get in the robotgo to Tar Valon.

The Light knows how your . . . Mistress Alys”—she invested the name with a wagonload of scorn— “managed to make him believe; he has a mite of sense, usually, more than most men.

She didn't even talk to him, amusingly.

He’s afraid you’ll try your tricks with outlanders and get your head thumped.

Well, Mat's dad is right about one of those things already.

Egwene sat back so she was shielded by Perrin. “I left a note,” she said faintly. She tugged at the hood of her cloak as if she was afraid her unbound hair showed. “I explained everything.” Nynaeve’s face darkened.

What so many people miss in their support of one character over another is that Egwene is just as stupid and immature as Rand, Mat, and Perrin: she just shows it differently. If I were in Nynaeve's shoes and hearing this shit, Moiraine couldn't have interrupted my rant about "A note!" if she'd balefired me.

Even those poor men who find themselves wielding the Power for a short time gain that much, though sometimes touching saidin protects, and sometimes the taint makes them more vulnerable. 

For somebody who's supposedly pretty impatient and pissed, she sure is infodumping. Moiraine's such a nerd.

Egwene bounced to her feet, her desire to be dignified obviously warring with her desire to avoid a confrontation with the Wisdom over her unbraided hair. She had no difficulty gathering up everyone by eye, though. Mat and Perrin scraped back their chairs hurriedly, making polite murmurs while trying not to actually run on their way out. Even Lan started for the door at a signal from Moiraine, drawing Thom with him.

Again, there's not much to say, just the joy of the sheer intensity that is Moiraine and Nynaeve in the same room while innocent bystanders look on in horror. Shame it's over.

She turned toward Rand, and for the first time he realized the others had all quietly disappeared.

Poor Rand, too nosy to escape quickly, too thick to realize that Nynaeve's nervous around Lan because she's afraid that she'll jump his bones.

“Something happened,” he insisted. “Why do you want us to go back if you think there’s even a chance we are right? And why you, at all? As soon send the Mayor himself as the Wisdom.” “You have grown.” She smiled, and for a moment her amusement had him shifting his feet.

Again, Rand's actually really adept at political matters, he just doesn't realize it. Tam must have been prepping him for the Council his whole life.

Either way, though, almost every man wanted to be one of the party. Tam, and Bran al’Vere, with the scales of office around his neck, and Haral Luhhan, till Alsbet made him sit down. Even Cenn Buie. The Light save me from men who think with the hair on their chests. Though I don’t know as there are any other kind.

Note the double hypocrisy, in that Nynaeve is criticizing everyone for thinking they should be the ones to go get the kids when she thought the same thing about herself, and for criticizing people for thinking with their hair when her braid is how she gets her own neurons firing.

“Are you all right?” Nynaeve asked. “He said . . . said I . . . wasn’t his son. When he was delirious . . . with the fever. He said he found me. I thought it was just. . . .” His throat began to burn, and he had to stop. “Oh, Rand.” She stopped and took his face in both hands. She had to reach up to do it. “People say strange things in a fever. Twisted things. Things that are not true, or real. Listen to me. Tam al’Thor ran away seeking adventure when he was a boy no older than you. I can just remember when he came back to Emond’s Field, a grown man with a red-haired, outlander wife and a babe in swaddling clothes. I remember Kari al’Thor cradling that child in her arms with as much love given and delight taken as I have ever seen from any woman with a babe. Her child, Rand. You. Now you straighten up and stop this foolishness.”

It is both incredibly sweet that she notices something is wrong with Rand immediately and cares enough to ask and try and reassure him when she's pissed at how stupid she thinks he is and incredibly silly that the reassurance she gives - of a time when she was four or five years old and would have had nothing but a few fleeting encounters with the foreigner and baby who live out of town even when they do come home - is going to reassure anyone who isn't actively trying to drown in denial.

“No, it isn’t your business,” Nynaeve agreed. “It might not mean anything. She could just be searching blindly for a reason, any reason, why those things are after you. After all of you.”

This, though also wrong, is a much more reasonable sort of guess. That said, it's something Nynaeve wants to be true, so she doesn't think about the obvious connections either.

Sadly, that's it for this chapter. Next time we return to the Lord of the Rings inspiration when they have to leave the inn early due to an invasion of black-cloaked riders who serve supernatural evil.

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #rand al'thor #perrin aybara #min farshaw #thom merrilin #mat cauthon #moiraine damodred #nynaeve al'meara #lan mandragoran

[lucyshypemaster]

some of my favourite quotes from The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell

(for self-indulgence lol)

"Consider yourself warned. My story is not one that ends with a happily-ever-after." - The Evil Queen

"Right now, we're living in an ugly chapter of our lives, but books always get better!" - John Bailey

"Sometimes we forget about our own advantages because we focus on what we don't have." - John Bailey

"Have you really come to eat me? I thought you'd have learned your lesson by now. I bite back." - Goldilocks

'I fell in love. I fell into a love so deep it was unlike anything I've ever known. I never thought this kind of love was real. It's as if I am no longer living for myself anymore, but for her. So, I must find a way back. I must find a way to see her again.' - John Bailey

"I'd rather die trying than live the rest of life wondering if I could have done it." - John Bailey

"Some annoying little girl told me once that optimism always pays off, and she's usually right about things." - Conner Bailey

"It doesn't matter what life you're living, life never has a solution. No matter how hard the struggles are that you leave behind, new struggles always take their place." - Cinderella

"No matter what you do, you can never please anyone. And that was the hardest lesson to learn." - Cinderella

"If I had to be enslaved for life with someone, I'm glad it's her." - Conner Bailey

"Would you rather die in your cell or die trying to get back the life they stole from you?" - Alex Bailey

"Well, I know what it feels like to think the whole world is against you." - Alex Bailey

"I keep the spindle as a reminder that even the worst curses cast by the most powerful enchantresses can eventually be overcome." - Sleeping Beauty

'The fairy tale had always romanticized the bravery of the young prince and the horror of the curse that had been cast upon the land, but it had failed to mention what a strong and brave woman the sleeping beauty truly was.'

"Try giving 𝘮𝘦 a poisoned apple, and I'll shove it down your throat." - Goldilocks

"Courage is one thing that no one can ever take away from you." - Goldilocks (obviously i had to include this infamous quote)

"I've done many terrible things in my time, but many terrible things have been done to me over time as well. So, as far as I'm concerned, the world and I are even." - The Evil Queen

"I think what I've learned from all of this is that 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 are mostly just people villainized by circumstance." - Alex Bailey

'By sunrise, they would be the most wanted fugitives in the world, but, at last, they were in each other's arms.'

"It doesn't matter how greatly you've been hurt or how much you're hurting, it's what you do with the pain that counts." - Froggy

#this series has tons of amazing quotes fr chris really is a genius #and this is only from the FIRST book #the land of stories #chris colfer #alex bailey #conner bailey #the wishing spell

[wall-legion]

Shiverpeaks Sylvari PS: Food for Thought

This is the first quest for any sylvari who has aligned themself with the Spirit of Sun during CC. As a reminder, your character awakes at the base of the Pinefather, and is greeted by your season's esus. The following cinematic happens after you have loaded into Ochtachtoft: Esus: Newborn! At last. I was starting to think you might sleep the whole day away under Father's branches! PC: My apologies, sibling. This is my first time waking up. I'm still new to it. Esus: So you are. My name is (PC's season's esus). I am the esus of (PC's season). Welcome to the world, young one. PC: Thank you. It is a wonder, isn't it? Esus: Indeed, it is. Pinefather's roots truly took hold in a beautiful spot. PC: I must ask you a question, though. The Spirit of Sun has made a request of me. Esus: Is this true? How remarkable. What was asked of you? PC: Sun says something called a "pineshade" is trampling our gardens, and that I must help someone named Emlyn. Esus: I see. Emlyn has been deeply concerned about this problem for some time, and they will gratefully accept the help. Head to the Verdant Haven, and you will see the path to our gardens. That's where you'll find them. PC: I'll head there now. Thank you for helping me. Esus: Of course, newborn. We are family. We aid our own. Open World Upon leaving Ostachtoft, you head into the Verdant Haven and have a quest marker heading to the west. This leads to the point of interest named Emlyn's Bounty, where you find another sylvari pacing back and forth and muttering to themself until you approach. PC: Erm... excuse me. Are you Emlyn? Emlyn: Oh! Oh, yes, I am. Sorry, I was just- I'm sorry. Who are you? PC: I'm (character name). I came to help out. The Spirit of Sun said as I was awakening that there's a pineshade- Emlyn: Oh you'd better believe there's a pineshade! A terrible, awful, gigantic one! PC: Uh... let's pretend I don't know what a pineshade is, Emlyn. Emlyn: What? Oh right, you're new. Well, a pineshade is a big creature, looks like it's an overgrown sentient tree. Usually they're very docile. But this one is... well for some reason it's mean! PC: So you don't know why it's mean? Emlyn: No, not this one. Usually they only get angry if you hit them first. PC: And how do you fend it off? Emlyn: I've been building fences, and that at least slows it down. I've been too busy trying to keep everything watered, since the nearby spring is unusable to go find what's angering it. I'll just be happy to be able focus on that again, if you can figure this out! At this point you'll get a popup of your choices: Charming - Let me see if I can figure out what's bothering it. Dignity - Let me help you build the fence first. Then I can attempt to deal with the pineshade. Ferocious - It seems like the time for reason has come and gone. I'm going to take care of it. If Charming is chosen: Emlyn: That would be wonderful if you could! It would be tragic to cause the loss of a life if we could avoid that. If Dignity is chosen: Emlyn: Oh, that would be lovely! It would make things much easier here, and I can go to get water while you go to the pineshade. If Ferocious is chosen: Emlyn: Oh. If you think that is best. Please try to be swift about it. You head further west after that, into a region called the Silver Needles. At a point of interest called Folly of Toke, you will find the pineshade you are looking for. Like all pineshades, it cannot speak; unlike all pineshades, it is immediately aggressive. After it is defeated, it drops a shard of ice, and your quest marker moves back to Emlyn's Bounty. Emlyn: You're back! What happened? PC: I'm not quite sure, to be honest. I found the pineshade, but it attacked me as soon as it saw me. I don't know if anything could have been done to help it, Emlyn. Emlyn: Well if nothing else, we were trying to help. Thank you. PC: I did find this when it fell, though. Does this hold any meaning for you? Emlyn: Hm. Doesn't spark anything for me, but perhaps someone back in Ochtachtoft will know. PC: Then I'll return there. Thank you Emlyn. Be well.

#gw2 fan tree #shiverpeaks sylvari #spirit of sun quest path #gw2 ps rewrite

[maestro04yayyy]

Antivillain au

(Now all I can think about is Chloe having a breakdown.)

"Chloe?" The tiger hero tiptoed through the wreckage, not truly understanding what the rabbit hero meant when they said she was their last hope. "Are you okay?"

The Hen was nowhere to be seen but she knew she was getting closer when the damage worsened along her path. She came to a weirdly open area. There was nothing but ashes.

"Chloe?" Far away was a blue flame, unlike any fire she's seen in real life. Tigress continued to approach, hoping that this was what she was looking for, who she was looking for.

It was.

Inside the flame was the Hen, except she looked different. Her clothes weren't the right color. Her hair was the wrong shape. Worst of all, her eyes weren't the ones Juleka dreamed of. Once a soft blue were now a harsh red, blurred just slightly by the tears that fell down her cheeks.

"Chloe?" The flaming villain didn't respond. "It's me, Jules."

She stepped closer.

"Is something wrong?"

Another.

"I think I can help."

She crouched down to be eye level with her akumatized friend.

"Let me help you, Chlo-"

Tigress jumped back as a hand came out of the flame. The next thing she knew they were fighting and she was loosing just as fast as it began. Tigress called out her power and pushed away. She took the lead, but now she was on a time limit. She broke everything she could think of as they fought, eventually she was overpowered once more and left to search the villain's pocket as a last stitch effort. She ripped whatever it was she found and the hen snapped out of her trance.

"Jules...?" She got off the hero, pulling her to her feet as they looked at the damage. "Where's Ladybug?"

"I dunno. Some bunny hero brought me here, said Ladybug needed me, but when I got here there was no one."

"Then the damage...?"

"Will never happen." Bunnyx came out of a portal ready to do their job and fix the spacetime continuum.

(I wanted to be more descriptive but felt it got a little gorey so I just reused the word damage a lot)

.

Fuck yeah this is amazing!!!!! Like really!!!! Fuck!!!!!! Oh also I don't really mind gore or othee stuff so if you want to write it, do it without worry!!!!!

#antivillain! chloe #chloleka #chloe bourgeois #miraculous ladybug #antivillain au #juleka couffaine

[cor-corbinian]

So I had time to sleep on the last episode of bsd and I have thoughts.

So far I've seen so many different oppinions about it - so many people are exited and so many are dissapointed. I easily fit into both categories.

But my first thought was that the episode felt off .... And I'm going to try, putting that feeling into words

PACING: As always the anime is going for an olympic medal in rushing. But unlike the previous ones this one felt even more rushed. For me, I believe that has one mainreasons. 1) Ususally I marinade in the manga chapter before I watch the Anime. This time I had nothing to go off, so my brain couldn't automatically fill the gaps. -> Missing Plot/Plot holes felt a lot more present

FUKUFUKU: Alright. This is propably the part I enjoyed the most. I think it was the best way that could have ended. 10/10 Somehow managed to not feel rushed to me. Teruko coming in was suprising but not entirely unexpected. I really liked it. You can see were the most effort went into :)

Aya&Bram: This one was good as well. But I barely felt scared for Aya. Another case of rushing - nothing to outragous though, although I felt it took the emotions out of the scenes.

All in all I really enjoyed the majority of the airport Part and can very much see why people are so exited and happy about this episode.

Now for the mixed bag that is Meursault...

SOUKOKU: Here the opinions are split. Not mine though, I liked it. Does it have implicateion that I most likely haven't thought about? Yes. But as long as Dazai wasn't aware of Chuuya not being a Vampire for the entire time, I'm fine with it. It is very much Soukoku shenanigans at the finest. Still rushed as fuck and with so many open questions that the manga has to adress. So I can see why people dislike it.

FYOLAI: Oh boy ... I really disliked Fyodors death. They have to have cut something important from the manga, because it just felt wrong. I fully believe Fyodor is coming back in some way. But the death just was so unsatisfying. What do you mean, every character got an impactfull fake-out death and Fyodor just got stabbed by some no name and blown to bits?! Doesn't feel like a fitting end for the mastermind. Nikolais part was amazing though - exactly the reaction I was hoping for. Absolutely heartbraking. 10/10 for that small part.

SIGMA: AAAAAHHHHH. I'm honestly upset and absolutely livid. What do you mean, the character who just wanted a home and to be seen as more than a disposable tool got his fate revealed in a single line and was forgotten and disposed of??? What the actual fuck! I get what bones is trying to do - keeping it a mystery on what exactly happened to him. Trying to reveal absolutely nothing. But we don't even get Dazai mentioning that he has to go back into the prision for some reason? Or saying that he has something still left to do? Anything at all that hints towards Dazai remembering that Sigma existed? Truly, it fells like Sigma was abandoned and I hate it. I will be writing Angst about it.

OTHER CHARACTERS: The Montage was kind of nice, even though important characters were forgotten about (where is Jouno!). With the lack of impact of most of the characters shown it just felt kind of hollow I guess.

EPILOGUE: Why does it feel off? I honestly wouldn't be at all suprised if it was the set-up for some anime only filler content - However horrible that would be. Akutagawa was looking fancy though. And it seemed about the only relevant thing that happened to poor Atsushi this episode. For a Protagonist he was sidelined hard.

TLDR: I feel like the rushing and lack of explaining/skipping over plot details of the anime is making me hate the progression of the plot more than I could ever with manga. I'll have to wait and see.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd spoilers #cor rants

[justastrugglinghotchocolate]

On Felines and Friendships

Ao3 link here.

This is a Basil/Henry fic based off that cat drawing I did along with my love language post! Shoutout to my sibling for giving me the cat's name!

Also, it's lowkey a prequel to The Losing Game.

Lord Henry had originally assigned the adjective 'demure' to his flat-mate Basil Hallward. When they had met during their first year in Oxford, the man had been so very quiet, Henry had first thought he was mute. It wasn't until he laid eyes on one of Basil's paintings that he realized the other man was very loud indeed. Unlike those who raved and preached like Henry, Basil expressed himself in his artwork—every stroke of the brush laid bare a new idea. That was the day he had decided to meet him.

From there, they were fast friends, though Henry often frustrated the artist to no end with his 'philosophy'. Despite that, he had been very happy to accept Henry's offer of living together for the next school year.

Living with the man had taught Henry that Basil was anything, but demure. He may not have been outspoken, but he could match Henry in banter for hours—much longer than anyone else Henry spoke to—and when he truly wanted to do something, hell would have to freeze over to convince him otherwise.

The lord found this dichotomy fascinating and often pushed to see just how vast it was.

He discovered the answer when, during their final year in Oxford, Basil entered the flat with his arms wrapped around his coat and pressed against his chest. His coat was clearly covering something, but he tried to pass without alerting Henry, who was reading on the divan.

“What is that, Basil?” the lord called without looking up.

“What?” the artist tightened his hold.

“In your arms, what is that?”

“Oh, some supplies,” the artist smiled sweetly—as he always did whenever he needed to convince Henry not to do something.

The lord hummed, then stuck his foot out tripping the artist. Basil stumbled forwards and his coat fell to the floor revealing a furry black cat with one eye in his arms. It seemed to glare at Henry, who flinched back once he realized it was actually alive.

“Our building doesn't allow animals,” the lord said. The cat bared its fangs, seeming to understand.

“What animal are you referring to?” Basil asked, still smiling. The one-eyed cat snuggled into him, keeping its eyes trained on the lord. “This one here is hardly an animal. She's much more like a royal.”

“Basil.”

“Oh, but she is! I found her at a park last month and I've returned to sketch her ever since. I can show you and you'll see!” he pet the creature which began purring. Basil laughed, “Why, she always looks like she's brooding! I think I'll call her Hamlet.”

“It is a her.”

“Yes, but I think she'd like Hamlet. She's regal, in all black—”

“She seems like she'd murder someone,” Henry interrupted. The cat hissed. He hissed in return, “She's old and ugly.”

The artist gasped, “Harry! Don't be mean to her.”

“She doesn't even understand. She looks quite stupid.”

“Henry Wotton, I hope she scratches up that shirt you like so much,” Basil turned towards his bedroom. “I'll keep her in my room, you'll never even notice her, I promise.”

The cat stared at Henry until the door to Basil's room closed. The lord shook his head.

The moment that one-eyed cat stepped anywhere else besides the artist's room, she would be out.

Three months had passed and Hamlet was still in the flat. Not that Henry hadn't tried to kick the damned thing out, but she seemed to understand his intentions and took full advantage of Basil. Every time the lord so much as stepped in her direction, the black cat dashed to the artist, mewing in a way that the painter found adorable.

When Basil was out, she was out. Despite Henry's many attempts to keep it that way, she always returned, either with Basil or mysteriously appearing in the corner of his eye.

He hated the animal. And Hamlet felt the same way.

It was growing into a war between the pair, while Basil remained ever so oblivious. Henry had told him many times that the cat knew what she was doing; Basil responded by patting him on the head and saying he should take a break from writing his thesis. The cat would then rub her fur against the lord's leg, mocking him for trying to turn Basil against her.

Hamlet was a demon that Henry wanted nothing to do with, especially not when he had to work on his thesis. However, the one-eyed cat would come and sit right outside of the door of his room, making a very clear threat. He'd close the door on her and she'd sit outside of his window, watching him intently.

Henry hated that cat.

Basil however adored her. He let her sit on his lap as he read and pet her whenever she wanted.

“That thing is playing you for a fool, my dear Basil,” Henry told him.

“Hamlet is a cat, Harry, she doesn't know how to do that,” the painter cooed at the creature. “Aren't you the most perfect creature in the world? Indeed, you are.”

The cat mewled and settled in the artist's lap.

Henry shook his head, returning to his work.

“Have you nearly completed your thesis?” Basil asked.

“I will soon,” the lord sighed. “But I am missing a very important source.”

“Oh?”

“An old account from a philosopher. It was supposed to be in the library, but apparently it's gone missing. Most likely a fool didn't return it.”

“Perhaps another library has it?”

“Perhaps, I may not find it in time,” the lord sighed but smiled. “It will be a shame, I'm quite sure I could have elevated the original work.”

He moved to sit next to Basil, but Hamlet threw herself onto the open seat.

“Hamlet,” Basil laughed. “Come back here, you were so comfortable before!”

The cat did not move, instead staring intently at Henry.

“Hamlet, let Harry sit down,” Basil gently picked up the cat and petted her. She continued to watch the lord.

Henry sat down.

Hamlet threw herself onto him, hissing. Henry jolted, but the one-eyed cat had decided that she would stay. Basil tried coaxing her back, but she did not move, instead glaring at Henry.

“Perhaps, she's warming up to you?” the painter suggested.

“I doubt that greatly.”

She had left scratches on his pants.

The real trouble began when Basil had to leave for a three day trip to the countryside as part of an art study. Hamlet got more and more attached, seeming to understand that her favorite person was leaving. She followed him almost everywhere and waited until he returned whenever he left. She never let Henry so much as approach the artist.

Basil made a list of everything about the cat, from her moods to what she liked to eat and what Henry should do in certain situations.

“What I should do?” Henry shook his head. “If she's royalty, she'll take care of herself.”

“Harry, do this for me,” Basil pleaded, “Hamlet likes—well, she tolerates you.”

“I don't tolerate her,” the lord glared at the feline as she strolled inside. “One of these days, I will throw you out, you wretched thing.”

Hamlet growled at him.

“She'd like you if you didn't antagonize her,” Basil said, picking up the cat. Henry swore he treated the thing more like a child than a feline. Hamlet glared at him as if daring him to argue with her owner.

On the day of Basil's departure, the artist was a panicked mess, dashing around the flat and calling for Hamlet. She had gone missing in the night. He stopped and looked at Henry.

“No, Basil,” the lord said without looking at him, “I did not throw her out, I promise.”

“You never keep your promises,” the artist said. He sighed and placed his head in his hands, “Oh, where could she have gone?”

“Perhaps she returned to the park,” Henry said, searching for something in the bookshelf. “Regardless, you must not mourn her—she was an animal, she certainly didn't feel anything for you.”

“You are terrible at comfort,” the artist spat.

The lord shrugged in response, “You should hurry, you don't want to miss your train.”

“Harry,” the artist said. “Your word is worthless, but it'll comfort me to hear you say it—if Hamlet returns, take care of her, please?”

Henry laughed, “'Take care of her?' She'd murder me in my sleep if I looked at her for too long! Basil, you hardly took care of her yourself—all you did was spoil her. Your cat is better off dead. In fact, her corpse is probably in the street as we speak.”

He heard Basil sigh and turned to look at him. Henry's smile faltered when he saw the artist's hurt expression. He hadn't seen him this upset before.

“Basil—”

“No, no,” the painter wiped at his face and grabbed his bag. “You're probably right. I'll see you in three days. Make sure you don't die while writing your thesis.”

“Wait, Basil,” the lord tried. “Basil, I'm—”

The door slammed and he heard hurried footsteps going down the stairs.

The lord sighed, “Sorry.”

The next day, there was still no sign of the feline's return. Henry sat by the window, smoking and looking at the gray sky. While he smoked, he made a thousand different arguments as to why he should not feel guilty for what he had said to Basil. Every single one was quickly counter argued until he didn't have any left.

A distant mew caught his attention. On the sill, off to the side, was Hamlet. The lord startled. Regaining his composure, he put out the cigarette and reached for the animal.

“You wretched little thing,” he hissed. “Get in here—Basil was worried sick for you.”

The cat did not move.

“Hamlet. Inside,” the lord extended his arm out. “If you don't get in now, I won't let you in later.”

The cat hissed and jumped down, landing some ways away. Then she looked at Henry, seeming to challenge him.

“I'm not going to chase you,” the lord said. “I don't care enough about you to do so.”

The cat tilted her head as if asking, 'What about Basil?'

Henry glared at the feline. Hamlet sat waiting. He groaned and grabbed his coat and a cloth bag. Begrudgingly he went outside to where the cat was. As he laid eyes on her, he threw his arms out.

“Well, here I am,” he scowled. “Get over here.”

Hamlet dashed down a nearby alleyway. The lord turned to return to the flat, but the memory of Basil's saddened expression stopped him. He groaned, then tore after the cat.

“Hamlet!” he called. “Hamlet!”

The black cat ran through the streets, leading the lord further and further into the city. The entire time he ran after her, Henry cursed Basil for being too attached to the rambunctious feline.

The things I do for him, Henry thought as Hamlet ran into a woodsy park. In a clearing she stopped, seeming to wait for Henry.

The lord panted, “Alright, you little shit. Here's what's going to happen," He opened the bag, “You go in here, I bring you back to the flat, and then in two days time, you make Basil happy again.”

Hamlet watched as he got closer, then dashed off right as he was about to touch her. This resulted in the lord falling onto the muddy ground.

“You absolute demon,” Henry hissed.

Hamlet then pounced on his face, screeching and scratching. The lord managed to grab her furry body and lift her claws away from his face.

Swearing, he hissed, “You horrid little monster! If you really have intelligence like Basil claims, then listen. I do not like you and you do not like me, but both of us like Basil! I doubt you want him upset because then you won't be treated like a princess, and I certainly don't want my best friend upset, so you have to come back with me!

“Can you understand that much?!”

Henry then realized that he was talking to a cat, “Oh my God, I am losing my mind. Basil's cat from hell has made me insane.”

He released the animal and sat up, feeling blood seeping from the scratches on his face. He sighed and looked up at the gray sky. Why did he feel such a need to right this particular wrong? He had done worse wrongs to other people without so much as guilt. Why was Basil any different?

Beside him, Hamlet rubbed against his muddy arm. The creature's once resplendent black fur was covered in mud. She hopped onto Henry's lap, dirtying his trousers. The lord absently pet her with his mostly clean hand.

“I suppose this is a truce, then?”

Hamlet did not answer. The lord stood up, holding her in his arms. Delicately, he covered the one-eyed cat with the bag. Once the task was finished he turned towards the exit of the park.

Rain began to pour and the cat hissed when she began to get wet. Henry removed his coat and wrapped the damned thing so he could properly move forwards.

As he was drenched in the rain, he muttered, “Even God hates this cat, Basil.”

He entered their building twenty minutes later, completely soaked and covered in mud and blood stains. People gawked as he entered, but he paid them no mind, carrying the bundle of hatred up to his and Basil's flat.

Once the door closed, he threw his coat off to the side and let the one-eyed cat out. He glared as she sat and stared at him. Hamlet pawed the mud on its leg.

“What, you don't like being dirty?” the lord sneered. “Well, then you should have listened to me and come inside earlier.”

He walked to the lavatory and the cat followed. He hissed, “I am not going to wash you.”

She tilted her head.

After they were both washed, Henry sat on the divan with a blanket and a book. He had bandaged his wounds and was in clean clothes, but his wet hair dripped on his shirt. Hamlet watched him with her one eye. He ignored her, but then the cat hopped beside him.

“No,” the lord tried to push the black feline away, “I already gave you attention—too much, in fact. Go do something else.”

The cat dug her claw into his hand. He yelped and she jumped onto his lap burrowing into the blanket. Henry scowled, but placed his hand onto Hamlet's head, petting her as he read.

On the day of Basil's return, Henry was ill. Not badly, but enough to where it was bothersome. He couldn't focus on his thesis—which still wasn't complete without its missing reference—and he had no interest in doing anything else, including cooking. Hamlet seemed to realize this and brought him a dead rat.

“Are you mocking me, you spiteful beast?” the lord threw the corpse away.

When he returned to sit on the divan, Hamlet jumped into his lap. He obliged her silent demand and petted her head.

The door opened and Henry watched as Basil entered. The artist's face was slightly flushed and was framed by his messily tied back hair and his eyes lit as they landed on Henry. Though he'd never admit it, Henry had never seen anything so breathtaking as Basil's excited look. The painter's lips began to form the beginning of his name and he realized that in that moment, that his name in Basil's voice was all he wanted to hear.

“Hamlet!” Basil cried. He rushed up and plucked the cat from Henry's lap, spinning with it in his arms. “Oh, I thought you were gone forever!”

Henry blinked, still catching up with what happened.

“Oh, Harry—!” Basil paused, “What happened to you? You look like death!”

The lord cleared his throat, putting up his usual composure, “Your cat, Basil.”

“Be serious, Harry, what happened?”

The lord pointed to the cat, “I brought her back here and she fought me. Brutally.”

“Really?” the painter laughed. “Oh, but aren't you an angel, Hamlet? You'd never be so cruel to him without good reason.”

“She is a demon, Basil. I am proof of that.”

Basil smiled, placing the cat on the floor, “I suppose you're right.”

He sat down beside Henry, “I suppose you can be my angel, then. You brought her back, after all. Thank you for doing so, though I am sorry it came at quite a painful price.”

Henry did not consider himself an angel—no man could be one—but if Basil dubbed him so with his beautifully kind smile—then, what the hell—Henry didn't mind playing the part.

“Oh, I got this for you,” Basil reached into his back and pulled out the book Henry had been searching for. “Funnily enough, the library I went to had two copies. I told them about the missing one here, and they let me have it so I could donate it here.”

The painter smiled, “I figured you'd like to have it first.”

Henry took the book, quietly marveling at the artist in front of him. He stared long enough that Basil became self conscious, tucking a stray strand. Then the artist's eyes fell upon something behind the lord.

He gasped, “Hamlet, what did you do?!”

Henry turned to see the cat with his thesis between her fangs. He looked at the thing in horror and frustration.

“Oh, Harry,” Basil cried. “I'm so sorry! But on the bright side, you did say that you thought your work would be much better with that book in your hands. So perhaps this is an opportunity?”

Henry blinked, then tightened his jaw, glaring at the cat, “Basil, I am so glad you named her Hamlet.”

“What?” the painter looked at him as if he'd gone mad. “Why?”

“Because, like Laertes, I’m going to murder that damn thing!”

In the end, Henry did not murder Hamlet, who lived for another four years in pure happiness, often harassing the lord and still being greatly favored by Basil. Henry hated the one-eyed cat until she died, when he helped Basil bury it in his garden.

The artist was greatly saddened by her death, but having Henry around certainly made the grief easier. Standing in front of the small grave and watching Basil gently place down some wildflowers, Henry silently thanked the cat for making his best friend happy.

She'd probably have scratched him in return.

#the picture of dorian gray #basil hallward #lord henry wotton #fanfic #fluff

[archangelmacaron]

NTMF College AU Chapter 21

It does not seem that tumblr has a way to block spoilers like Discord etc so I'll just put any content warning under a strikethrough, if that works, since they might be a bit spoilery, so if you don't need them just skim past that! Let's hope the formatting doesn't switch paragraphs again (haven't had a chance to look into it just yet). I also wrote this on my phone rather than my usual laptop, and didn't have my usual 'read over five times to edit for word choice' session, so please pardon any repetitive words or mistakes! In which reality hits, also CW for gun violence, blood/injury, death musings/anxiety

-

"It's much warmer than yesterday…" Noel's brow furrowed as she stepped onto the porch, taking another small bite of the toast Caron had insisted she eat, although she didn't feel like she had much of an appetite. "This weather is truly bizarre. I don't believe I have ever seen fog quite this thick, either."

She swallowed the last of the toast as she held out her ungloved hand, feeling the air. "What's truly strange… it's windy. How is there such a heavy fog when the wind should be blowing it away?"

"Stay on alert," Caron said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder as he stepped behind her, looking out into the mists. She wondered if his sharp eyes were seeing more than she could; if they were, they didn't seem to be perceiving immediate danger. She closed her eyes, listening, but all she could hear was wind, then his voice again. "Which way is the trail?"

"This way." She led him off the stairs to the back path leading to it.

The further they walked, the more the slight sense of unease grew in her. She heard creaking branches, sometimes a snap or thud as one fell, but there were no voices nor the sound of traffic as they walked through the trees behind the neighborhood. She couldn't tell if it was because the fog was muffling the ordinary, expected noises or if, as her imagination was telling her, everything else around them had simply ceased to exist.

Caron still had his hand resting on her shoulder. It felt comforting, but… She glanced up at him. "Um, Caron?"

"Yes?" He didn't look at her, his eyes still seeming to be fighting to pierce the fog deeper.

"Isn't that a bit awkward? I could, um, t-take hold of your arm, or maybe your h-hand…" Why am I stammering? We have been in bed together, h-holding hands isn't --isn't too--

He slid his hand over to her other shoulder so he was just a bit closer, more protective. She felt a pang of disappointment when he didn't move it to her hand, but as he continued to not look at her, she realized it wasn't a reflection of his own desires--his stance was alert, he wanted to be able to move quickly if necessary.

Is he taking this too seriously… or am I not taking it seriously enough? I really can't see Jillian even trying to hurt him while I'm in the way, or Fugo attacking after he said he wouldn't…

"Here we are," she said as they reached the trailhead. It was flat and covered in wood chips, unlike the hard dirt path they'd been on. She looked around, listening again carefully. "I can't hear anyone else about, but the fog is making it difficult to be certain…"

"How long is it to walk the trail to the Hall?" Caron's voice was still very low. Noel was careful to match hers.

"Um, perhaps twenty minutes… but that is on a clear day." 

"Today is anything but…"

"Yes… still, it's all rather flat and finished like this, without many turns, so it should be comparable, I think."

They proceeded into the woods slowly, without speaking again. 

This familiar trail seems anything but in this creepy fog… but despite how uneasy I feel, I'm not truly afraid.

She looked up at Caron with a smile.

It's so weird to think, they planned for him to kill me, and instead we're--

"NOEL!"

She didn't understand what had just happened.

There was a loud noise --so loud her ears were ringing, she felt as if she were flying through the air, and then she was on the ground, Caron on top of her, and her forehead stung badly. She blinked, looking up at him. "What jus--"

He clamped his hand over her mouth, a little roughly, lifting his head to look around, then shooting out a chain. There was another loud noise, and they were suddenly being dragged across the forest floor, dead leaves and twigs catching her hair and tearing at her clothing before Caron was able to get his arms around her more protectively. She heard him groan, then they came to a stop. 

She still didn't have time to process as he sat up, seeming to concentrate for a long moment, and then she heard the strangest thing--the noises they had just made crashing through the forest were repeating, but from somewhere far away. The loud noise came again, and again, but it seemed to be following the unreal echo.

She sat up, then flinched as something poured into her eyes. The stinging from her forehead was now pain, no longer an inconvenience but something she couldn't possibly ignore. She wiped the liquid away and looked down at her hand.

It was covered in red.

I'm… bleeding…?

She clapped a hand to her forehead firmly, hoping to block the flow and wiped at her eyes with her other hand to look up at Caron. He was leaning against a tree next to her, and one of his large black hands was tightly clasping his other arm.

It took a moment for her to realize it, too, was wet. 

"Caron--!" She crawled closer to him, cursing the awkwardness of the prosthetic legs. "Are you --"

As soon as she was in reach he grabbed her, pulling her against him and pressing his hand over her mouth. He whispered in her ear, "Be as silent as you are able to. We are being hunted."

"Eh?" Her gasp was nearly silent.

She felt his hand move to her forehead. He made a small hiss as he examined her wound, then she felt something very hot from his hand. She tried to flinch away, but despite its injury, his other arm held her firmly. Just as she felt sure she would not be able to hold back a cry of pain any longer, he moved his hand. Hers went to where his had been. The deep cut was no longer bleeding, now smaller as well and scabbed over.

She stared at him in wonder for a moment, before moving as close to him as she could. 

"You healed me?" she whispered into his neck, hoping he could hear her. She wasn't sure where exactly his ears were.

"Mostly." His voice was so low she wasn't certain he had spoken out loud. "You can pay me later, when I finish the job."

She wasn't sure if he was joking or not. She leaned back to see his crimson eyes scanning the foggy forest. She closed her own eyes, listening.

She could hear a voice, very distantly. She focused harder, bits of a conversation were coming through.

"Yeah, I got the little … a headshot… …n't mean to kill her, I don't wanna piss off Bur… probably not dead yet… not sure where devil… I'll find… gone far…"

Her blood ran cold. The casual voice belonged to a complete stranger, she was certain of that… and also absolutely certain that he, someone she had never even met, was shooting at them.

"I hear a man talking on a phone. Just one, but he is hunting us," she whispered again. She felt him nod, pulling her closer again and flinching, as if he'd forgotten his arm was injured.

She pulled back slightly, looking at his arm pointedly. He seemed to make a face at her, as if he thought it a waste, but concentrated for a moment and the wet spot on his sleeve stopped getting larger. Relieved, she leaned back into him.

"What do we do?" she murmured against his neck again, having the strange thought that she wanted to be pressing her lips against it for a very different reason. It was a completely inappropriate thing to be running through her mind, but she realized that once again, she was trying to think about anything other than the situation she was in, trying to get back to the earlier cheerful dissociation from the idea she could actually die, and the joy of falling for someone for the first time.

She couldn't. Reality was here.

"We retreat, carefully, quietly. Find a new hiding spot." He looked down at her abruptly, still speaking so quietly even she could barely hear him. "Wait, is your mobile phone--"

Noel dug it out of her pockets with shaking hands and turned it to silent, vibrations off as well--just as it began to ring. She stared up at Caron, showing him the screen. 

The caller was Jillian.

Her stomach churned. 

Jillian… would never try to harm me… but calling me now can't be a coincidence, which means she might not have her phone right now… is she in danger, like Caron theorized might happen? Is Fugo? What do I do?

She felt her forehead again. She could feel the cut on it that Caron had sealed. 

Was this… from a bullet? 

If that had been a centimeter closer… I would be dead, and I wouldn't even have had time to understand that I was dying. Everything would just be… over.

A deep chill was settling into her, one she didn't think being held so tightly would dispell.

Someone is really trying to kill me--no, kill us.

I… I knew, logically, that's what was going on. I knew Caron was expected to kill me, but he not only did not harm me, but became my ally, and I think that made me unable to comprehend that I really am in danger.

Even hearing Spica talk about it to herself, I must have thought, deep down, that it was just her being strange and eccentric as usual. The concept of my annoying roommate truly wanting me dead just didn't make sense, so I convinced myself it wasn't a real danger, even as I made plans and talked about it as if it were so!

Even fighting Fugo, it just seemed so unbelievably fantastical; I was so afraid, but it still didn't feel real. Almost like I was dreaming, like how on earth could my dear friend be a demon with such powers without my notice? And I knew he would never hurt me intentionally, and I believed Caron was stronger… like he was my knight, here to protect me… that of course he'd win…

But all of that was just delusions!

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her hands clinging to his jacket tightly, listening for the sounds of the person trying to kill them.

How naive could I possibly be? 

I thought… we'd solve a mystery, bring justice to those who have died for it, and wrap it up all neatly, like characters in a novel… how childish!

Instead, Caron was hurt, all because of me… Jillian and Fugo might be in trouble, all because of me… all because I was too proud and headstrong to just let accept a loss! And I might really die from it!

I hate this! Right now, I… hate myself…

"Do you hear anything?" His voice broke her thoughts. She hurriedly wiped the water forming in her eyes as she shook her head.

"No… whatever you did, he seems to be following that deeper into the woods."

"Then let's quickly head in the opposite direction."

Caron gave her a warning squeeze before moving her aside gently then standing up, offering both hands again to pull her up. The courteous action made her want to cry. Why couldn't we have met... some other way?

"Which way?" she asked, pushing the thoughts aside again.

He thought for a moment. "The fog… seems to be lifting."

She hadn't noticed, but he was right--she could see a bit more of the trees around them. It seemed to be getting darker, and a soft rumble explained the phenomenon.

A thunderstorm forming, now? What is going on… 

"We can't risk being seen in the neighborhood… let's head to the Performance Hall. If he reported hitting us in the woods heading deeper in, it's unlikely a second ambush would be waiting outside of them."

She nodded, biting her lip nervously. "There are some storage sheds on the outside of the lots near the tree line--those might prove to be a good hiding spot."

He nodded, and they carefully began to walk again.

#fanfic

[vodka-redbull-daily]

November 28th, 2023

My car has been acting kind of funny for a while now. honestly for over a year but I haven't had the time or money to take it to a mechanic. I was telling W---- about it and he said that he could either fix it for me or find a mechanic that could.  we were texting all day yesterday and honestly we text very often. he acts more like a boyfriend than a sugar daddy, or I guess more like a sugar daddy than these random hook-up encounters that I get money for. But we've been texting a lot and it honestly reminds me a lot of J----. it's been making me pretty sad but at the same time I enjoy spending time with W----.

he asked me to come over to his place  last night after I got off work and of course I said yes. I warned him that it would be late because I tell everybody that. I'm not going to make somebody wait up for me that doesn't want to. he promised me he would be awake so right as I got off work, I headed out in that direction. it's kind of a Far drive, Over 30 minutes. although I don't know that even is considered a far drive anymore since most of the time I have to drive over 30 minutes to get anywhere. anyway, I pulled up in front of his house in the same place I parked the last time. I guess it's pretty lucky  that the weird kind of duplex things he lives in I'll have garages in the back so most people don't do street parking and there's plenty of room for me to fake parallel park.

I walked into the door and rang the doorbell. I could hear A-----barking inside and thought I heard movement. but after a few minutes, there was no answer. I waited for a little bit, thinking that maybe he was getting dressed or something. I didn't know if he slept naked or not. it was kind of creepy being all outside in the dark and I was getting cold.  I decided to try knocking instead. I know that sometimes the doorbells are broken and that's why people don't hear it, but it seems pretty unlikely since this was a nice place and I actually heard the sound of the doorbell through the door. A----- was barking again, but nobody came. I sent him a text about waiting outside and, at D----'s suggestion because I fucking hate calling, I called him. no answer to either. I waited a little longer and I kept thinking I was hearing footsteps. maybe he was coming around from the back? I peeked around the corners of the entryway, but there was nobody. I rang the doorbell one last time and even though A---- was barking again, he never showed.

I won't lie. I did cry. it was incredibly annoying that I was brought to tears over the fact that one of my sugar daddies wasn't answering the door. he had obviously just fallen asleep because it was too late at night. but it's stung. it brought back the memories of the caring, loving, completely attentive J---- suddenly flipping into somebody who couldn't give less of a shit about where I was and what I was doing,  never wanted to answer texts, and would routinely give me stupid excuses about why we couldn't hang out in favor of hanging out with other girls that he met off tinder. 

It hurt a lot.

it still hurts.

and I guess that's why I cried over W---- not answering the door, but I wish I hadn't. I wish I was more in control of my emotions.  I wish that I was able to regulate whether or not something was distressing enough to truly have tears.  I wish that I can make my mom Proud by just sucking up all those emotions and keeping them stored forever away from the public eye. I wish I could forget about J----.

I was able to get my shit together by the time I got home and D---- and I commiserated about how stupid it was to invite me over then to not answer the door.  I was in a pretty bad mood at this point and even though I tried not to be, I kind of just went to my room. I hate the fact that this kind of stuff could affect me this much, but it does. it's incredibly fucking annoying.  this morning when I woke up, he sent a text that said:

“Oh no! I fell asleep!”  with the little surprise cat emoji. 

we texted a little bit more back and forth about how I should have rang the doorbell and I said that I did ring the doorbell…  twice. he mentioned that the door was actually probably unlocked in that next time I come over, I should just walk straight in. I made a joke about not wanting to get arrested for breaking and  entering.  then he said he would make it up to me. I don't know what he really means by that, but he probably means sex.

I started talking to you a few more guys off secret benefit. there's this guy named J---. he's married, but he says his wife is too vanilla for him and he wants to expand his horizons. he says he wants to test out his submissive side, to truly get dommed by someone.  he said his wife knew exactly what was going on, but didn't want to hear anything about it. I guess she's a little shy. since I have switch in my profile, I get a lot of people like this and even though I haven't truly ever dommed before,  I think that I could do it. I even asked B------- for some advice about how to be a good dom.  J--- and I discussed how and when we would meet since neither of us could host and we decided on a hotel. he wanted me to make the arrangements wish I was a little bit surprised about, but I guess that's what doms do.

the thing is, I'm chronically broke  and I would hate to pay for a hotel just to have him not actually show and  chicken out. he said that if I pay for the hotel, he would pay in advance. we agreed on 300 and I told him that if you wanted to pay for half the hotel, he can pay 30. in my initial research, it looks like most places would be from 50 to 70 so I figured that would be a fair enough price. he sent me $360 so I went ahead and booked the hotel and sent him the reservation information. I got a little nervous about checking, since most places have it around 3:00 and we were planning on meeting 11:00, so I called them and asked him if I could check in early and they said that was fine.

besides that, I met another guy off secret benefit that supposedly is a sub. while J--- is in his late 30s, this guy is in his late 50s. not going to lie though, he doesn't actually look that bad in the pictures he sent me. he's at least got some kind of muscle mass and isn't just loose skin. he talks a lot like those submissives that you see in the media;  a lot of begging for attention, a lot of saying yes ‘ma'am’, A lot of begging me to sit on his face. not my favorite thing in the world to do because I am actually terrified of accidentally killing somebody, but pretty standard for guys who claim to be submissive.

in exchange for pictures of his dick,  he asked for some pictures of me masturbating. and I sent them. I broke my rule of never sending nudes. my face wasn't in them, my tattoos weren't in them, but I honestly don't even know why I did it. maybe I'm getting desensitized by seeing so many dicks.  maybe it was because feeling like I was the one in charge the situation gave me the confidence,  or the stupidity,  to actually go through with it. I'm not sure. I guess I'll keep a counter for my own pics since people, too.

the other thing about P--- is he keeps asking to be cucked.  he has this whole fantasy about being forced to watch somebody else fuck me before he “ gets his turn”.  he always describes a man with a giant cock, a “bull”.  somebody who stretches me out why so that when he puts his dick in it feels like there's infinite space. my mind immediately jumped to B-------. the thought turned me on so much. I've been wanting a three-way for so long, two guys and me or me and a guy and a girl. I don't care honestly. and the idea of B------- domming me, then me domming somebody else…  I've definitely masturbated to that idea before P--- even brought it up. In between my conversations with B------- about how to be a good dom, I asked if you would ever be interested in that kind of thing. He said he was, in fact he had done something similar before. his only thing was that he didn't want to be involved in any guy-on-guy stuff. Beyond that, he seemed really intrigued.

also of secret benefit, I started talking to J------. J------ and his early 30s, very demanding, and very much an attention whore. he sent me a few videos and pictures of him masturbating which was an interesting thing to open up in the middle of work. it's the first time I'd ever gotten a video Even though I had heard plenty of horror stories about them on the Internet before. I guess I'll start a counter for those, too. I feel like P--- is also going to be sending me some. The thing about it is that he sent me them over Snapchat, so they were cut up into a bunch of tiny little segments. I don't know whether I should count it as two separate videos, since it seems like he recorded two separate times, or if I should count each little snippet as its own separate video. I don't want to artificially inflate my numbers, so if it looks like he stopped recording and then started up again I'll count that as a separate video.

Total Earned: $5,070

Body Count: 16

Dick Pics: 22

Videos: 2 

Nudes sent: 2

Head Recieved: 3

Head Given: 14

Sex Ranking:

B-------

Him

T----

W----

P------

F----

G---

A---

G--

R--

T------

J--

M--- (x2)

D--

A----

M---

#blog #daily blog #suagr baby #suagr dating #vodka redbull #my writing #spilled thoughts #daily journal #journal

[mel-the-pirate-writeblr]

Chapter Three - Turned into Stone (M(T)PJ: Book 1)

My (Twisted) Pokémon Journey: Book One Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

2.9k words

The stone slowly released me, starting from my head. The sterile white walls outside of my prison blinded me for a moment, before my eyes adjusted.

     Rarely, when J stole Pokémon, some were saved and recovered. Pictures of the clear displays made their way into certain news articles and on TV.

     Horror mercilessly constricted my heart as I recognized my prison as one of those display cages. But as the stone receded from my body, as I regained my arms, I wondered aloud, "Kevin?"

     Something behind me pulled my PokéBag off of me, and I turned to see a stranger in dark clothing taking it away, taking my Pokémon away.

     Fury pulsed in my head, replacing the horror. "HEY!!" I tried turning, but I couldn't feel my legs – and then I looked down. My legs were still cast in stone.

     Now someone out of view faced me back forward and held me still. Someone else moved my hair to reveal the back of my neck. "What are you—" I growled out, almost inhuman in tone, before I grunted in pain.

     Something cold touched the base of my neck before it latched into place, firmly, painfully, almost boring into my skin.

     "What are y—!"

     I turned back into stone.

The next time the stone released me, Giovanni stood outside of my display cage, his hands behind his back, appraising me. J stood off to the side flanked by two of her henchmen, while several Team Rocket grunts accompanied their leader. I scowled at Giovanni but said nothing.

     "Well, well, well, aren't you a blast from the past," he commented, his voice carefully controlled and smooth. "Who knew I'd be able to get you back for interfering in my interests those years ago? And now I even have some of the Pokémon that you did that with."

     I bit my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

     "Oh, come, now," he said. "Don't you want to talk? I recall you always spitting out taunts or boasts, especially when you found your way into our little casino headquarters."

     I finally noticed my PokéBag in one of the grunts' hands. "You'll regret this," I warned him in a low tone.

     "Ah, there we are," he said to J. "Not as much of a spitfire as she was when we last stood face-to-face, but I digress." He turned back to face me. "I hope you realize that you get to see the new inside of our old headquarters. We have since... renovated. I think you will appreciate it when you see it."

     I need to get out while I have the chance. Maybe I can work with other signature moves... like Voltorb's infamous Self-Destruct. "Any clues as to what you changed?" I asked sarcastically. "I doubt it's a guest suite." The energy, rotten and rotting, started growing in my chest. I had to keep him talking, to keep them distracted, while I prepared. "It can't be that impressive if you have to bring someone there against their will."

     "It's truly pristine," Giovanni replied, mocking. "Not unlike Hunter J's accommodations here." He gestured to the empty and stainless white room and the dark, glossy floors. "Just a little less white, it's such a stark color. It doesn't quite suite the rest of our underground facility."

     If I hadn't had a plan, if I hadn't had the power condensed in my body as I added more to it, that would have broken through my anger. I have to GET. OUT.

     On that thought, I released the energy – a terrible, burning, bursting power – with me at the center of the near-deafening blast.

     A heartbeat later, I heard glass as it fell with a clink, clink, clink, and as I opened my eyes the scene –  once a calm, sterile scene with triumphant criminals gloating about their victory – that had become chaos, decorated with broken glass and scorch marks. Everyone in the room either got blown back against the wall or on the floor, some grunting and others struggling to move.

     My glass prison lay, shattered, among debris of other equipment. I now could see I wasn't with other stone Pokémon, but a different cargo area. I didn't think about it much before I grabbed my PokéBag from the grunt, and ran. That was too much energy, I thought frantically, I can't spare anymore energy for that.

     The lights dimmed, turned red, and a piercing siren reverberated around the ship, as I ran. I just ran. I heard footsteps, and ducked into a random room, a vacant one, luckily. I pulled out Persian – my oldest, stealthiest Pokémon. He looked at me, confused, once the white light dissipated.

     "We're on J's ship, I was caught, they know," I hurriedly whispered. "I can't do much right now, I already used too much Teleport and I just did Self-Destruct. Team Rocket is here."

     Recognition glinted in Persian's eyes as he got caught up to speed. He nodded.

     "So we have to hide until I can get us out. But I can't do it alone. I need your experience."

     He tilted his head. What do you have in mind? he seemed to ask.

     "I don't know. We have to hide, but we won't be able to for very long."

     Persian's ears swiveled toward the door. It wasn't long before I heard footsteps rushing past.

     "We need to move, but we need disguises. We’ll stick out like a sore thumb, since the only other Persian is likely Giovanni’s," I said.

     Then it hit me.

     "Wait," I said. "Giovanni’s Persian. We can both impersonate him." If I can manage that, I added to myself. "We can only try and see, right?"

     I had to focus, without any distraction. I had to turn into a Persian, not just a Meowth. And I couldn’t let the pain distract me from successfully shifting into a Persian.

     I took a few deep breaths, while steps outside the door pounded past, and caused my own heart to pound with adrenaline and fear. I shut my eyes tight in anticipation of the pain.

     Persian, I willed. I need to become a Persian.

     The change started small, in my hands and feet. The bones shifted position; the muscles changed to a Persian’s physicality. Then Transform took my arms and legs, the tendons and tissue rearranging, they disconnected and reconnected with painful burning. My torso – it hurt to breathe. I almost didn’t feel the tail grow out this time, and my body rejected being bipedal. Then my head – my ears hurt as my jaw changed, a splitting headache jumped sharply into being. My skull became more malleable to change its shape, all of that inelastic bone bending with a potent, aching pain as it reset into its new feline form.

     I gasped as the pain receded from my body, as I could breathe without sharp stabs into my lungs, as I recognized a feline Pokémon’s night-vision in the dark room, now I could see things in shades of grey. “Persian?” I panted. “Did I make any sounds? I need a second,” I added, as the pain gave way to a weak body that was still settling into itself.

     “Yes,” Persian said. “But I don’t know how much they could hear past the door.”

     “Then we need to move. Find a space where Charizard can take us away from here.”

     He didn’t respond to that. I straightened up – as much as I could, both Charmander and Meowth are still bipedal, unlike Persian – and took a few steps to test out this new form.

     I didn’t have enough time to adjust to this form. The door opened – a mechanical pocket door – as light spilled into the room that we hid in. I turned in time to see a silhouette – a man in a business suit.

     “Two Persians here!” Giovanni called over his shoulder, out at someone in the corridor. “She’s one of them!”

     I quickly grabbed my PokéBag in my mouth and bolted past him, with Persian on my heels. Numerous voices shouted behind us, but I didn’t look back. I struggled not to trip on my PokéBag, trying to keep my head up as I ran to avoid stepping on the straps.

     Persian leapt over me and called, “Follow me!” as he ran on ahead. 

     I grunted and kept up as best as I could.

     We got to a large room with J’s ground vehicles, and Persian ran over to a large, red button on the wall. Persian hit the button, and slowly the one end of the room – a kind of vehicle bay, I realized – as a ramp stared its decent. The vehicles must somehow be secured since I had to brace myself on the opposite side of one to keep from flying out of the bay. If I could use Transform, and then bring Charizard out, we could get away. We could at least get out of the airship.

     “Persian,” I called. “I have to shift back, can you make sure no one interrupts me?”

     Persian bounded over to me, watching the door, and nodded.

     I took a breath, closed my eyes, and concentrated. Shift into me. Crystal Fairway.

     The pain followed, much like the Persian pain, but becoming me felt natural. It was easier. It didn’t take as long, and I settled into my form much easier and quicker.

     I opened my eyes and reached for Charizard’s Pokéball. “Okay, now—" 

     Persian was gone.

     I cursed to myself and grabbed Lucario’s Pokéball instead. I brought him out with a flash of white light. “I got caught by J. Persian was with me, but he disappeared,” I hastily said. 

     Lucario didn’t miss a beat, he closed his eyes and the aura sensors on his head rose as he searched for Persian’s aura. A moment passed before he opened his eyes and said, “He’s not here.”

     “What do you mean?” I asked. “He was just with me! He was here, he led me here.”

     Concern broke through Lucario’s normally neutral expression. “There is another Persian here…” he said. “But it’s not our Persian.”

     I stared at him in shock, then reached for the Pokéball that I thought belonged to my Persian. “Giovanni’s Persian saw me use Transform, he saw me turn into and out of a Persian. Giovanni saw us as Persian, but his Persian witnessed it.”

     Lucario put a paw on my shoulder. “But humans can’t understand Pokémon. And I did sense a familiar Pokéball, though it could be anything. It might not be him.”

     “But it might be.” I led the way back into the airship, with the ramp still open in the bay. “Maybe someone will come this way and think we got out already.”

     “We have to move, none of us can stay here,” Lucario urged.

     Lucario led the way as he searched for Persian’s Pokéball with his aura sense. I listened for Pokémon or people, but we didn’t see anyone since I saw Giovanni before.

     Once we got into the room, I recognized it. The broken glass on the floor, the broken display cage. Behind where I would have looked sat a normal, red-and-white Pokéball. “That’s his,” Lucario said.

     I carefully walked over the glass, grabbed the Pokéball, and we rushed back to the vehicle bay. While the sirens blared and the lights flashed, we saw no one on our way. No one was waiting for us. The ramp was still open.

     “Charizard,” I said, with a white light. “We need to get out of here.”

     Once the white silhouette dissipated, Lucario and I climbed up and Charizard wasted no time in launching himself out of the airship.

     I looked around at the landmass, trying to orient myself and plan for a place to hide. Viridian wouldn’t be bad, with all of its tree cover and Pokémon. But where are we?

     I noticed the sea, and a small town, and a cruise ship – The S.S. Anne! Vermillion City! We can use Diglett’s Cave to get to Pewter City, and then Viridian Forest. “We’re going for Route 10, Charizard,” I called to him. “We have to get to Viridian Forest discretely.”

     He nodded. “We’ll be down there before they can see us.”

     With all of the strength of a Charizard, Charizard got us to the entrance of Diglett’s Cave in less than a minute. I recalled him, and Lucario and I rushed inside, and down the ladder to the unofficial, underground route of Kanto. I grabbed the pink Heal Ball from my PokéBag and called out Luxray.

     Luxray looked around. “What happened?” she asked us.

     “J knows, I got captured,” I answered as I started leading them down the tunnel, “but we got away. But Giovanni’s Persian was with me for a bit, and he saw me use Transform.”

     She nodded. “Where are we now?”

     “Diglett’s Cave,” I said. “You guys wouldn’t know what it is, but right now we’re west of Vermillion, and it will take us just south of Pewter City. We’re heading to Viridian Forest.”

     “How secret is this cave?” Lucario asked.

      “Not very,” I answered. “But it’s more discrete than going to Viridian Forest in the air, and on the ground.”

     “Crystal,” Luxray began, “what is on the back of your neck?”

     I turned to them and reached around to my neck. “They did something, put something on me, before I spoke to J and Giovanni. I don’t know what it is, but it bored into my skin when they put it on. Let’s see about it when we get to the safety and privacy of Viridian Forest, okay?” 

     Luxray and Lucario shared a look of concern but said nothing as we continued along Diglett’s Cave.

     We got to Pewter City without an issue. No Pokémon hunter airships, and no Team grunts.

     “Viridian Forest is south of here. It won’t take us long to get off the main path and hide in the trees. We just have to stop in at the Pewter City Pokémon Center.”

     Luxray scanned bushes and nearby buildings with her X-ray vision as Lucario searched with his aura sense. I just guided us in the familiar direction to the Pokémon Center.

     One thing I did notice, however, as we made our way through the city was the amount of Officer Jenny’s officers around. While I didn’t often visit Pewter City, the number of officers seemed like that that would be found in Saffron or Celadon City.

     One such officer noticed us, and deliberately made her way in my direction once we made eye contact.

     “Wait a second, guys,” I said quietly. They stopped as they noticed the officer.

     Her eyes searched my face. “You’re Crystal Fairway?” she asked quietly.

     “Yes,” I answered hesitantly. “Is there something the matter?”

     She glanced at Luxray and Lucario. “Your brother made a report about you encountering and being kidnapped by Pokémon Hunter J.”

     “That is true,” I said. “Cerulean City’s Officer Jenny knows about the strike at Cerulean Cape?”

     “Yes. But what happened? Kevin told us you got taken, but he only guessed that it was for your Pokémon.”

     “I have to hide,” I said urgently. “I got away, but Hunter J is still after me— my Pokémon. I saw Giovanni on the airship, too. They’re working together. I have to hide,” I repeated.

     She gave me a confused look. “Then we can protect you–”

     “You don’t understand,” I said. “I can’t explain. But I have to hide. Can you get a message to my brother?”

     She shook her head. “The Cerulean Officer Jenny is working with him covertly. I might be able to get a message to her, but whether or not she can get one to him…”

     I debated inwardly. “If an opportunity comes up, I’m going to be hiding in Viridian Forest. Tell as few people as possible if you can get it to him only through others.”

     “Please, come with me,” she said, reaching for me. “We can protect you from them.”

     I stepped away and shook my head. “No, you can’t,” I said apologetically. “And the longer I stay, the more danger I am in as well as the people here. J is set on a huge bounty. I have to go.”

     The officer’s expression was torn – she wanted to have me stay, but she also didn’t want to force me to. “I’ll pass on the message if I can,” she said. “Good luck.”

     I thanked her before I continued on to the Pokémon Center. Once we entered, I let out a sigh of relief – I hadn’t noticed how stressed or tense I was while we walked around in the open.

     I returned Lucario and Luxray, approached the Nurse Joy at the front desk, and asked her to heal my Pokémon. She asked me to wait a while, and I handed my Pokémon off to her Chansey.

     I waited for a small eternity, with sharp glances every time the doors slid open for the young Trainers that passed through Pewter City. I couldn’t tell if I hoped I’d see Kevin, or Lidin, or if I dreaded someone from J or Team Rocket would walk through the door. The jolt of unclear emotion, with its unclear crisscrossing of boundaries, accompanied me in my impatience as desperation settled in.

     When the Nurse Joy called my name, I hurriedly went up, thanked her, and took my Pokémon. “Thank you.” I brought Lucario and Luxray out once we exited, and then I quickly led us south of Pewter City, and to the familiar nostalgia of Viridian Forest.

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