#xe hands on xe face xe put xe hands on xe face where xe face goes xe hands xe flap the hands on xe face

[urrockstar-xe]

bad friend - j.m x fem!reader

posted may 2nd, 2023, 5:19 pm

anon asked: Hello!! Can I request a JJ Maybank x Fem!reader where they are dating with prompt 8. “You know you’re my favorite right?” “I better be” Maybe reader gets into a fight with John B. JJ doesnt really know which side to choose, (between best friend and girlfriend), and reader gets mad/hurt/offended whatever and walks away and JJ follows her

note from xe: strayed a little but I hope you still enjoy it! also this has no actual scene from obx involved I just kind of went with it and sry that jb is kind of a dick.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.6k

“You know what John B? At this point, I don’t give a flying fuck about the gold, I don’t care about being kook rich, I don’t care about Rafe not being in prison and I don’t care about these stupid fucking treasure hunts!” 

Your yelling was warranted, John B had been giving you shit all day about how you just don’t seem to care enough like everyone else. And he was right, because “The gold ruined my fucking life! I have nothing! Nothing John B! This is all I have, this group of people right there is It for me” 

John B scoffed, earning a glare from Kiara as he still wasn’t listening to you. “You know what I think, Y/n? I think that if you really felt that way, you’d care more, right now you’re just being a bad friend” 

“Hey, man-” Pope tried speaking up but you lifted your hand telling him to stop. JJ hadn’t moved from his spot by the railing, and Sarah and Kie were already seated in the boat you were supposed to leave on. 

Sick of fighting for a right to have feelings you began walking away, quietly speaking as you left “Fuck you, Jb.” 

John B rolled his eyes, dropping it and going to the boat. Pope sighed. “Are we gonna at least wait for her?” “Pope, do you want a chance to get to this cross or not?” 

JJ watched as Pope and John B got into the boat with the girls, before looking back in the direction you had just walked in. “Hey, you guys go ahead, we’ll catch up.” 

“JJ, what do you mean-” “Just go without me I’ll meet you guys later!” and with that, he was off. Following the trail, you had just taken. 

It didn’t take him long to catch up with you, it never did. “Hey there, pretty lady,” He said, coming up behind you. You turned to face the boy, now leaning against a similar railing to the one JJ had just been leaning on a few moments prior. 

He smiled at you, not expecting one back but getting a small one in return. “They leave?” you asked softly, your eyes not leaving JJ as he moved to stand beside you. “Yeah,” “without you?” “I’m sure they’ll make do,” JJ joked, nudging you slightly.

You moved your gaze to the floor, wondering what to say next but speaking before figuring it out. “You understand right? Why I’m exhausted? Why I can't keep doing this but do it anyway?” JJ began nodding along but you continued before he could verbally respond. 

“Like why it’d be hard, that doesn’t make me a bad friend, right? I do everything for you guys. I hope he realizes that I hope they all do. I hope you do” As you finished, you looked back up at your boyfriend, seeing the soft look on his face.  

Suddenly JJ threw his arm around your shoulders, grinning at you. You caught the vibe he was throwing your way, he was trying to lighten the mood. You helped, taking the old baseball cap off his head and putting it on your own, smiling at his hat hair.

“You know you’re my favorite right? Like even Pope can’t compete” You scoffed lightheartedly, “Yeah, I better be”

JJ fixed his hair before he stood in front of you, slowly walking backward as he spoke, “Wanna go back to the chateau? Think there’s some beer left in that cooler” You were already following his lead, “It’s probably warm” he shrugged in response, “so we’ll drink it warm”

“What about the cross?” “If they need our help they can just, I don’t know, yell super loud,” You laughed at this, and laughed some more when JJ fist-bumped the air before turning to walk properly and putting his arm around you. 

“So steal John B’s beer?” “Steal John B’s beer”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagines #Spotify

[dyingstars-if]

Hypothetical situation. The Ro and MC live together and it’s been years since the main story. Ro is just chilling in the living area, and suddenly MC just kicks down the door and runs in with a duck under one hand, a flaming tree branch in the other, soaked in water, no shoes or socks with the most panicked expression on their face. And when ask wtf is happening MC hurriedly yells “NO ONE’S DEAD-“

How would each RO react?

as if krios wouldn’t have been diving feet first into all your mayhem with you. ‘there’s need for you to look so panicked, my love…if anyone has an issue with what we did, i’ll remove them from existence 🥰’. xe’s your babygurl fr !!

rune is so used to you at this point, they’re just like ‘that’s nice, dear, but you should put the duck back before it gets stressed and then come take a bath with me’. would then loving wash your hair and let you talk their ear off about your adventures.

ez is too busy trying to work out the logistics of this because the duck and you being soaking wet correlates, but where tf does the flaming branch come into it? my baby is going to go prematurely grey at this rate from mc’s antics 😔 (at least they’d make a sexy silver fox/vixen).

aren’s just there like ‘that’s a shame, we should rectify that’ and then kills someone. just like that they’ve taken the attention off of you so you don’t need to explain anything. aren’t they a good partner?

bonus:

faolan has accepted duck as new pet.

#answered #ro: krios #ro: aren #ro: ezlyn #ro: rune

[snowthornes]

And then his words sunk in, and he stiffened. “The Shepherds?” His words came out rushed, urgent. “You’re— you’re Shepherds?” The dark-haired man blinked slowly, stoic and calm in the face of his teetering sanity. “Yes,” he said, straight to the point. “I am Blade Bronwyn, Commander of the Shepherds. This is my second-in-command, Trouble Alder, and my third, Tallys.” Ah, Thorne thought numbly, nearly straddling the line of hysteria. He could practically see his carefully thought-out plans crumbling before his eyes. So this is Caine’s infamous assassin-commander. He certainly looks the part. Blade looked at him as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. Thorne closed his eyes, took a deep breath… … Then flopped back onto the bed like a dead fish. A snort — a mix of what sounded like surprise and amusement — rang through the room, only to be quietly hushed by what sounded like the Norm woman. Thorne ignored the exchange, staring blankly at the ceiling. Shepherds. He thought bleakly. Of course they would be Shepherds. Of all the godsdamned luck in the world. Thorne had never planned on joining the Shepherds. TW: Panic attacks,  swearing, mildly off putting imagery (Thorne has strange thoughts sometimes).

1 ✦ “No offense, but you look like hael.”

“Do you believe in free will?”

Thorne tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, studying the man with an air of casual inquiry. The man’s apparel was all in black, a wide-brimmed hat — also pitch black — perched on his blood red hair and shadowing his eyes from view. A little smirk was sketched on his mouth. He would remind Thorne of a charlatan, if he didn’t exude such an air of… ominous knowing.

“Why wouldn’t I believe in free will?” Thorne asked, smoothly hopping onto the sudden train of conversation with nary a flinch and responding with a smile of his own, unfazed. He wanted to see where this was going.

The man waved a gloved hand, his slight smirk still fixed in place. “You know,” he said airily, “There’s the matter of the One-God — or gods, if you’re daring enough to admit it. Most believe that Xe has a plan for each of us. Some fate or destiny in mind when we’re created. If that’s the case, doesn’t that mean that every action we take is predetermined, absolute — out-of-our-control?”

Thorne lightly grasped his cup of water, keeping his face politely interested as he inclined his head at the other man in a gesture to continue. He suddenly felt all too aware of everything: the cool touch of the necklaces looped around his neck, the weight of the man’s intense stare.

Hael. Anything that had to do with that damned One-God made his spine itch. But it was too late to escape the conversation, not without exposing how much it had truly bothered him—

The man sat back and took a drink, hair gleaming like blood under the black of his hat. He gazed at him over the rim of his cup, his stare intense and unwavering. “Then there’s the matter of magic,” he said lightly, smacking his lips — Thorne’s gaze snapped coolly to his face, smile sharpening ever so slightly. He must have noticed his eyes. “In a world where anyone could secretly spellbind another — can we ever truly know if what we’re doing is of our own will or someone else’s?”

Lazily, deliberately, Thorne sat back in his seat; now carefully scrutinizing the man with a stare of his own. “Free will, you say?” The man inclined his head in affirmation. His light smile never wavered, but Thorne knew that he was studying his every move just as he was studying him.

READ ON AO3 HERE

Note: If you can't open the link and you get the 'typo in href.li.' error, just delete https://href.li/? from the link in your browser and press enter :D

Hello! Thank you very much for opening my fic :D This won't be a chapter by chapter retelling of SHOH, but more of a fic about Thorne's own experiences in Blest as himself , not as an OC limited by the (very understandable!!) narrative constraints of the game. There will be scenes that weren't directly addressed in the game like Thorne's initiation to the Shepherds, so there will be quite a lot of headcanon-ing going on! This is very much a passion project and something I'm writing for fun — Thorne Briers and the world of SHOH are both very dear to me, and I couldn't resist the urge any longer. I hope you have as much fun following the story as I do writing it!

This is an unpolished work; I'm still very new to writing. Hopefully I'll be able to improve my craft while writing this fic, and have fun doing it!

DISCLAIMER: The world and characters of "Shepherds of Haven" do not belong to me, but to Lena Nguyen. You can find her on Tumblr under the @ shepherds-of-haven. Thorne Briers is a character of my own creation, and the MC of this fic. Due to narrative reasons, there will be several lines lifted directly from the game (ex. when a canon character speaks). Please let me know if this is a concern!

#i finally finished rewriting it!! #it's... different. very different. #there's been a lot more canon divergence #but nothing too drastic! #let's just say that thorne's first meeting with the shepherds is going Very differently #i really hope i managed to keep everyone in character #i'm not very sure about the way i wrote blade speaking tbh #but i rather like the changes i've made!! #aspen writes.txt #shepherds of haven #shoh

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Day 12: Taking a warm and relaxing bubble bath after a long day.

Vanilla, Tippy, and Bel all walk through the front door after a very tedious day of running errands. 

“Ugh, I need a drink.” Bel wrings out his hair from the rain. Vanilla does the same and sets aside his broken umbrella,

“Me too, babe.”

Tippy shakes his hair and body like a dog that just got out of the bath. Vanilla puts his hands up in a vain attempt to shield himself from getting even more soaked. Tippy’s hair puffs up into tight curls that cover his eyes,

“Much like my middle school wardrobe, I have ripped genes.” Tippy blows his curly bangs out of his eyes, only for them to fall back into his eyes.

“I think you look cute with curly hair, Tip-” Bel is interrupted by a wet sock being flung into xis face. Bel takes the sock of xis face and pouts, “No need to be so cranky about it, hmph.” 

Vanilla sighs and steps into the kitchen,

“Alright, you two. While I’m getting the wine and cookies ready, you both draw us a nice bubble bath.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, Vans!” Tippy says, messing with one of his curls.

“I’ll get the face masks!” Bel claps their hands. The other two head into the bathroom, where they have a normal shower, and a very large hot tub-like bath tub. Tippy turns on the hot water, Bel opens the drawers looking for which face care masks to use,

“Hmmm… volcanic rock activated charcoal deep cleanse black head destroyer clay face mask? Or holographic double sprinkle sparkle bubbling rainbow unicorn peel off mask? OR should we go with the classic aloe vera vitamin C vitamin D vitamin A collagen plus leave-on all night face mask?”

“Yes!” Tippy isn’t paying attention to what Bel is saying. He sprinkles in some little bath rocks, pours some calming lavender bubble bath into the tub. Bel purses their lips,

“Alright, I guess we’ll just have to use whichever… I’ll be the one to have the honor of wearing the unicorn one, of course. Because I deserve it!”

"Can I have the blue one?" Tippy points to the volcanic clay mask jar.

"I'm not sure it's going to be blue, considering it's activated charcoal, babe." Bel scoffs. They open up the jar and… it's a bright blue clay inside!

"Haha! Told you so!" Tippy sticks out his tongue. Bel takes a glob of the clay mask and starts rubbing it on Tippy's face,

"Yeah yeah, enjoy."

Vanilla walks in holding a tray of treats,

"How are my handsome boys doing? Are you both behaving in here?" Bel and Tippy both nod. Vanilla chuckles and starts taking off his clothes. Bel and Tippy do the same.

Vanilla steps into the bathtub and happily sighs,

"Aahhh… wait." As Bel and Tippy get in the bath at the same time, the water level rises and spills bubbles and water all over the floor. "Wait wait! Let me drain it-... first." Vanilla pouts as his partners lay in the large bathtub together with him. Tippy and Bel both have face care masks on, which amuses Vanilla. Vanilla puts one on himself. After a while, they all take off their skin care masks and decide to just play and lounge in the nice hot bubble bath together.

Vanilla watches Tippy play with the bubbles and listen to Bel talk about some juicy gossip xe overhead. Tippy places some bubbles on Bel's head and laughs. Bel giggles and makes Tippy's hair into a bubble mohawk. Vanilla smiles at the two, completely enamored with them. He leans over and kisses Tippy on the lips, then kisses Bel,

"What the heck would I do without you two?"

"Probably, like… cry." Bel teases him.

"Oh yeah, Vans. You'd cry!" Tippy laughs. He moves over to Vanilla and holds onto him,

"Well… I'd cry if I didn't have you either."

Bel does the same and puts their arm around Vanilla,

"Yeah… I'd shed a tear here and there maybe." 

Vanilla wraps his arms around his two partners,

"I love you guys so much."

"I love you too, Vans!" Tippy nuzzles up against Vanilla's shoulder.

"I love you too, Nilla!" Bel kisses Vanilla's cheek. Bel and Tippy hold hands as Vanilla has both of his arms around them. They all sigh and enjoy each other's company and the relaxing bubble bath.

The End

#we look so weird without all that eyeliner aaaugghh!! #safeshiptember #safeship #selfship #self ship #beltipvans #selfship fanfic #bel jjba oc #jjba self insert #jjba self ship #self ship fanfiction #poly ship #safeshiptember 2023 #sapphire heartverse #sugar crash void bash

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

To Make a Heaven of Hell (3/?)

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Virgil meets (almost) everyone and learns a bit about the usual goings on at the Hellp Desk.

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Chapter warnings: None I can think of

Notes:

I don't actually have a plan as for where this story is supposed to go, lol. Just a few plot points. we're trying our best with what we have right now, though I'm currently attempting to focus a little more on my Big Bang fic.

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"Yeah, sure, go ahead" Virgil answered, glancing around again, feeling a little more confident now. How was everyone he'd met so far so nice? Would they all be like that, once Lily introduced him?

"Awesome, so as you look around," Lily said, gesturing behind her, first to a pair of demons who seemed to be bickering over what looked like… a packet of girl scout cookies? "That's Bel - Beleth - and Greg, Bel is the tall one with wings, Greg is the red one." 

Virgil nodded as he took them in, they were both very tall, but the one with wings - Bel - turned to look over when Lily spoke.

"Hey Lils, what's going on? I heard my name?" Bel said, Lily chucked. 

"We've got a new kid," Lily answered, Bel's face seemed to light up as he glanced around and Virgil wasn't sure he'd ever be able to picture such a terrifyingly built demon looking so excited.

"Who? Can I meet them?" 

"Hi," Virgil said, waving his fingers, "I think that's me. Have I- been adopted?" 

"You sure have, darlin'" Judy said with a smile, "Don't worry, they do this with everyone." 

"Oh… well okay, but you’ll be dealing with- me, I guess, I’ve been told i’m a handful," Virgil said. He found already liked the idea of this much better than going back to that door as Bel laughed.

"Great," Bel said, smiling, "I know Lily already introduced me, but I'm Bel, Lily's husband, general of eighty-five legions." 

He proudly extended an extremely large hand for a handshake, just like Lily had. 

"I’m Virgil," Virgil nodded after shaking his hand, man, he was strong, "Uh, single - I think - and General of emo makeup, stupid Tumblr posts at 3am and way too much coffee." 

Bel barked out a laugh, “You’ll fit right in here, don’t even worry.”

"Okay, continuing the introductions, over there - in the shark onesie - is Sharkie, she/they pronouns for them,” Lily said, pointing to a short person who was, in fact, wearing a shark onesie. They were currently talking to another soul - who seemed unreasonably angry about the decor of the lobby, of all things, though when she was mentioned they looked over and offered an energetic wave, which Virgil returned with a little less enthusiasm.

“Over there at the back are Ruggy - trainee t-shirt - and Angel, the pink one, they’re girlfriends,” Lily said, pointing to a pair who stood close together behind the desk, the pink-skinned demon - Angel, Virgil thought that was a pretty ironic name, right? - nudged the woman she stood next to before shooting a beaming smile his way.

“Hii!” Angel called, “You a newbie?”

“Uh- yeah, I guess?” Virgil said, looking her over, “I like your hair, it’s cool.”

“Thank you! I like yours! We’re ombre buddies!” She gasped, her voice was bubbly and excitable and Virgil found themself smiling just from proximity, “He’s a cutie, Rugs, we’re keeping him.”

“I think Lily’s already got dibs,” Ruggy laughed, Angel pouted, “hey! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Who else… Dante’s at school, Penny’s spending the day in her paradise, you’ve already met Judy - the twins, where are the twins? Angel?” Lily called, “Do you know where the twins are?”

“Oh!” Angel said, “Remus was here a bit ago, xe said they had ‘something to discuss’ with Cthulu - I think you know what that means - and I think Roman’s helping to direct the play the high schoolers are putting on at The Theatre in a few weeks today! I doubt either of them will be back soon, though.”

“Darn, well it’s just us for now then,” Lily shrugged, “In that case, how’d you like a bit of orientation as to how things work down here, Virgil?”

“Okay - but uh-”

“Hey! You!” Someone yelled from behind him, Virgil turned arond with a start, eyes wide, to be faced with a soul who was more red in the face with anger than Virgil had ever seen - and he’d seen a lot of people angry.

“Me?” Virgil practically squeaked.

“Yeah, you,” He said, “You work here?”

“Not yet-” Virgil said, taking a deep breath and standing up to his full height - taller than this guy - he’d dealt with his fair share of angry people in his life, this was nothing, “But uh- I will be, I think?”

He glanced back at Lily, who was watching him with a worried expression.

“Hey! You’re talking to me,” The man snapped, clicking his fingers right next to Virgil’s ear. 

“Hey dude, I don’t even work here,” Virgil told him, “Yet, I literally just got here-”

“I don’t care! There's been a mistake, clearly, because I’m here.”

“Okay, but-” Virgil started, before being interrupted again.

“I already told you I don’t care about you, I just need help.”

“Excuse me sir would you kindly stop bothering my new kid and talk to someone who is, you know, actually sitting behind and working at the desk,” Lily said, when Virgil looked back, she was twirling a knife around her fingers with a smile that - at face value - was a classic customer service smile, though Virgil thought they could pick out something a little more menacing behind it, “Now your options are to fuck off down to your level like a good boy, or, oh look! we just got the cheesegrater setting working on the trapdoor again! if you’d prefer to experience that instead!”

The man finally stopped talking for a second, though he seemed geared up to protest, before they heard a woosh and looked to the side, where the shark-person was now crouched on the desk, holding what looked like a real lightsaber, with an outright unhinged grin on their face that had Virgil doing a double take.

“Y’know uh-” The man said, looking between Sharkie and Lily with more fear than anger on his face now, “You uh- the stairs were which way again?”

“Good choice,” Lily said, tone stone cold as she placed the knife on the desk, “Stairs are that way, they’re labled.”

“...Woah,” Virgil said, as soon as the guy was out of earshot. Sharkie slumped.

“Damnit,” She said, “I really wanted to use the lightsaber today.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another chance later, Sharkie,” Lily waved them off, before turning back to him, “Are you okay? I didn’t expect him to go after you like that.”

“Oh yeah,” Virgil said, waving his hands, “I’m fine, that was - I’m used to stuff like that,  I’m uh… more surprised that you guys stuck up for me…”

“‘Course we did, newbie,” Sharkie said, punching his arm as they hopped off of the desk, “You’re part of the team now right?”

Virgil nodded slowly, “I think so…”

“Yes, you are,” They said with a nod, “And that means we got your back, kay?”

“...okay,” Virgil said.

“Hey Sharkie,” Lily said, “We’ve got another soul incoming, you think you can show Virgil around the break room?”

“Sure mum!” Sharkie said, grinning, “C’mon, emo boy!”

—-

“Okay so this is the water cooler,” Sharkie said, “Ignore that noise, this is cool, right, because it has a ‘water to wine’ filter, so you can get wine from it if you want!”

Virgil’s attention was brought back to Sharkie as they demonstrated said feature, and he tried to ignore the screaming he could hear from beyond the door. 

“Is that uh, normal?” Virgil asked quietly, gesturing with his themb back towards the Hellp Desk.

“Oh yeah,” Sharkie nodded, “We get at one that needs a smackdown at least once a week, it’s cathartic!”

Virgil nodded slowly, grimacing as he thought about it, “They are… actually bad people, right?”

“Well duh, this is hell,” Sharkie said, making a face, “Like, yeah there's the ones that are just here for therapy, but they’re not the shitty ones, and we don’t beat up the shitty ones.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Virgil felt himself relax a little, knowing that the people he’d just met weren’t… secretly just like everyone else he’d known in life.

“The guy getting torn to shreds out there is like, irredeemably shitty, I promise,” Sharkie said, clearly noting Virgil’s wariness around the solutions, “Like one of those dick billionaires or something.”

“We get to beat up dick billionaires down here?” Virgil gasped, snapped out of his worries, “Can I punch Elon?”

Sharkie snortied, “That’s the spirit! He’s not down here yet, but I’ll save ‘em for you!”

“Thanks, Sharkie,” Virgil said, allowing a smile to creep onto his face as they grinned.

“Okay okay, back to the tour, over here we have the sorta kitchen area, people leave snacks in here sometimes, if it’s not labelled it’s free game,” They told him, gesturing around the space, “Lily always keeps snacks in her desk too so if you need some just lemme know.”

“Won’t she get mad?” Virgil asked, glancing back at the door. They really didn’t want to get onto Lily’s bad side. 

“Nah,” Sharkie waved a hand, “Not really, and I’ll cover for ya.”

“...If you say so,” Virgil said, smiling as Sharkie bounced around the space, explaining the excuses wall and the chuckleheads' wall of shame…

“So yeah, this is where we put the last soul who got laughed at by God.” Sharkie explained, gesturing to the picture currently plastered to the board - she looked like your typical Walmart Karen, “Oh, I think the screaming’s stopped, c’mon, lets go back out and Lily’ll show you how the desk works!”

Smiling fully now, Virgil followed Sharkie out of the breakroom and back into the lobby. 

He might have woken up that morning in the mortal world, dreading the day ahead… But it sure had turned out to be an interesting day indeed. 

—-

“Hello this is the Hellp desk, baring in mind I just got here and don’t know what I’m doing, how can I help… you?”

“Hey! You’re the new kid, right? Angel sent a text that I didn’t read-” Said the demon standing at the desk, whom Virgil was now staring at, slightly terrified.

“I’m so sorry sir- ma’am?” Virgil asked, face immediately going red, “I didn’t realise you weren’t-”

“Any terms are fine,” They said, “Any pronouns too, so, it’s cool, I’m Remus, nice to meet ya!”

Virgil hesitated to shake the demon’s hand, in part due to the fact that he was soaking wet and dripping water all over the floor and the desk, another part due to the fact that he stank of seafood. Eventually, he shook zer hand, very quickly, before pulling away and finding that it wasn’t water dripping from her hand, but some kind of slime. 

“Don’t mind the gunk,” Remus waved them off when they opened their mouth, “I was just with Cthulu, kinda part of the deal, anyways, newbie, where is everyone? They leave you here by yourself?”

“No, no,” Virgil shook his head, “Lily, Bel and Judy went to the breakroom for a minute, something about a pie, um, Greg? I think. Said something about Level 9, and the um, the girlfriends? I don’t- names- they went off somewhere, I think I heard coffee? And I don’t know where Sharkie is.”

“Probably raiding someone’s snack drawer,” Remus waved him off, “Have ya met my brother yet?”

“I uh… don’t… think so?” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes, “Wait- are you one of the twins? I think the pink girlfriend mentioned a Remus…”

“Yup! That’s me! My bro’s Roman,” Remus nodded, “And if ya can’t remember then you haven’t met him trust me, you wouldn’t forget that guy, he makes it impossible.”

“Remus!” Someone yelled, “Get your sea gunk off my desk!”

“Oopsie!” Remus said, giggling as Lily strode over, “Gotta go! See you round, newbie!”

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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer

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#sanders sides #hells belles au #virgil sanders #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #rowan writes #hells belles

[forever-eternal]

Doors

The States try and open the door. Gov starts to have a breakdown.

———————————————————————

Florida stares hard at the front door of the Statehouse, expression serious.

Louisiana side-eyed him with concern, and everyone else stayed a few feet away.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, sha?” Louie asks, but Florida doesn’t turn away.

“Papi’s here, right?”

They know it’s him, know that Gov is the Father and son they thought they lost, but they’re not ready— they’re not prepared to bring it up. Not yet.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“He does this weird thing, watch.” Florida springs up, approaching the front door with sure, confident steps.

Before he can grab the door handle, another hand appears to pull the door open. A body blocking the entryway, but he hadn’t come in from outside, had simply stepped in the way.

Gov hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Where are you off to?” The man asks, raising a brow as he opens the door.

“Nowhere!” Florida grins, “Just wanted to go out!”

“Hm.” Gov studies him for a moment, scrutinizing. Florida can feel himself start to sweat, before the man turns away. “Alright, don’t cause any trouble.”

And the man’s gone, as if he was never there, leaving the door wide open.

Florida turns back to them all with a grin.

“See?”

“Has he always done that?” Montana asks with a furrowed brow.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think we’ve ever opened the front or back door.” Iowa reclines on a couch, staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded over his stomach. “Pa’s always shown up to open the doors, but only when we’re going out? He never opens it coming inside unless it’s a building other than the Statehouse? It’s kinda weird.”

“I think we’ve gotten used to it. I mean, I know I’ve started waiting for him to open other doors too.”

A few moments of contemplating silence.

“First to open the front or back door before Papi shows up wins.”

And that sealed it.

.1.

Florida, of course, was the first to try it. Multiple times in the span of several hours, in fact.

He’d reach for one door handle, wait for it to twist and wait for the Static to fill the air as Gov starts to teleport, before he bolts to the other side of the house to the other door.

It doesn’t work, and Gov looks more tired each time.

Gov snatches him up in the middle of one of his sprints, hand holding the back of the Southerner’s shirt to look him in the face.

Amber meets grey, and Florida grins- somewhat nervously- at the blank expression on the man's face.

“Stop that.” Is all the man says, lowering him to his feet, and patting his shoulder twice, “It’s late. Go to bed.”

Florida scurries off, feeling very much like the young Ian Jones who stayed up past bedtime.

That doesn’t mean he stops though.

.2.

Idaho and Iowa thought they’d be the ones to win, being two of the most often forgotten States.

Idaho had gone to the back door, and Iowa to the front. They were going to try and open them at the same time, or as close to the same time as possible.

When Iowa heard the back door swing open, he reached for the door handle— only for the front door to swing open from the outside, revealing Gov— Pops— with a disoriented Idaho held under his arm.

“You were both planning on tending the crops today.” The Statehouse properties are expansive , a lot of it used for things to keep the States entertained; such as farming or animal care. “They are next to each other, you do not need to leave out two separate doors.”

Iowa shuffles his feet as Idaho is straightened to stand on xir own once xe was put down.

Xir face flushed, “Papa!” Xe says, slightly whiny, “What was that for?!”

Gov merely raised a brow.

“Makes it easier,” he says, leaning to press the side of his head against Idaho’s hair— the younger personification squirming slightly— “Call if you need anything, Gem, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Xe mutters, squirming out of the smug man’s grasp and hauling Iowa out the door.

The Hawkeye State felt…jealous. That Noah could have what Caleb himself craved.

.3.

West Virginia and Nevada, Boe and Cassian, were quite the odd pair of friends; a retired coal miner and a ex-mobster-turned-showgirl.

But they were formed little more than a year apart, and stuck together through thick and thin.

Sure, their plan may involve Boe taking off his prosthetic leg– but, really, it was his idea.

Nevada sets the prosthetic against the porch rails before he trots back inside, shutting the door behind her. West Virginia leans against the back of the couch, and the Silver state nods. They lean against the front door carefully, not making any noise.

“Pops!” the man yells, and the air fills with static, a sign that the man’s listening, “Left mah leg out on the back porch earlier, mind grabbin’ it for me?”

It happened more often than one would think. He usually took the leg off later in the day, but it wasn’t unusual for him to take it off and leave it somewhere without thinking– someone always around to assist without a second thought in grabbing it or helping him get to it.

He’d forgotten to take it off last night, and that’s what birthed this plan. The need to let his nub breathe.

The static shifts to the back as Nevada carefully reaches to the front door handle…

It turns in his grasp, and the door opens behind her. They stumble back, their shoulders falling against the person behind them, who holds them up with one arm.

She looks back, spying his father looking at them both with a raised brow— Boe’s prosthetic leg in his hand.

Nevada smiles nervously, “Hi, daddy…”

“Hello, Cassi,” Gov returns the greeting as the Silver State shifts to stand back up. “Boe is still in the sitting room, yes?”

“‘M here, old man.”

“Good, then. Help me with him, Cassi?”

“Yeah— sure.”

Their father looks…tired. More so than usual as he helps strap the prosthetic back in place— Boe’s fond of the older models— patting the Mountain State’s shoulder as he heaves himself up.

“Please behave,” he sounds so tired, “and please remember to grab your leg before you leave it in the middle of a street.”

Boe snorts as his Pops strong hand ruffles his hair, and Cassian grins.

They’re fine with losing.

.4.

To be completely honest, Connecticut hadn’t wanted to be involved in it. He saw how tired Gov looked, and how he only seemed to grow more haggard as each day passed with several States trying to open the doors.

But he had been a pirate, once. Mischief and the want for chaos carved in his bones.

“Davie.” he whispers with a grin, leaning over his husband's desk chair. “Davie, let’s go open the door.”

“Henry…” Delaware plucks his glasses off his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know it won’t work.”

“If it doesn't, we can get Johnny or someone to hold him still while we open it.” The Constitution State shrugs.

Delaware sighs again, “Fine.”

Connecticut gives a small ‘yesss’, hauling Delaware up and tugging him down the stairs.

There was no plan, they were banking on Gov being too busy with…anything. They were just going to try and open it, no special plans or strategies involved.

And, of course, it didn’t work.

The handle twists from their grip and a body shifts to block their path as the door opens outwards.

Once again, Gov blocks their way. He stares at them a moment, back straight despite how utterly exhausted he looks.

“Please…” his voice is quiet and gravely, and both Northeasterners cringe inwardly at the sound. “Please, stop trying to open the doors…”

“Gov,” Delaware's voice is careful, “When’s the last time you slept?”

The man twitched, “Last night.”

“Did you sleep…well?”

“No- no.” The man sways a bit, “Too focused. Ia— Florida tried to open the door fifteen times in the span of two hours.”

They notice the slip, it makes their chests ache, but they have something more important to worry about. They’re uncles, after all, and their stupid, self-sacrificing nephew needs to go to sleep.

“C’mon, buddy,” Connecticut comes up to the man's side, carefully closing the door with one hand, the other going across the man’s shoulders, “We gotta spare room you can have for the night. Davie’ll message Ro for ya.”

As the First State pulls out his phone, they guide Gov to one of the guest rooms. They watch him fall onto the bed with a slightly pained grunt, and watch as he near immediately passes out.

They look at each other once the door is shut.

“Intervention?”

“Intervention.”

They need to show Gov that nothing will happen if someone else opens the door.

And what better place to do that than at the Legislative building? Where security is tight and no one there will hurt any of them?

..5..

Gov’s has one office in Washington, DC. Much like their home in Pennsylvania, the door can open to any of the government buildings.

The office itself is lined with bookshelves that go up and up until you can’t see the top. A hand drawn map of every state and territory on the wall behind the grand, mahogany desk.

On either side of the desk were two archways, leading further and further into the maze of bookshelves that never seemed to end. The space was larger than it had any right to be, and stretched further than the buildings themselves seemed to. It was never the same when you looked back, the pathways always changing.

Only Gov and Assistant were allowed in the labyrinth unattended, as they were the only ones who could find their way out again without trouble. Anyone else had to accompany one of them, or they’d never return. There were things in there no one should see, and only the presence of one of the government personifications would keep those things away.

From the noises that sometimes echoed from within the bookshelves on occasion, not everyone heeded the warning.

But it was a familiar, safe space; perfect for them to intervene in Gov’s ridiculous habit of opening the doors of their own home.

Only three of them had shown up for this, they know that anymore and Gov would possibly grow defensive; just the three of them would be enough to make him suspicious.

Georgia and Maryland, there to hold him back, and Kentucky, the one to open the door.

They knock on the door to the office, always so obvious that it leads to Gov’s office with the aura it gives off and the ornate gold details on dark wood.

They don’t wait for a response, as usual, and simply shove the door open. Gov had always said his office is open whenever they need him, after all.

The man jolts in his seat, blinking at them as they enter.

“Hello,” he greets, body relaxing when he sees who it is, but he furrows his brow when he sees the serious look on Georgia’s face, “I wasn’t expecting you today, has something happened?”

“Nothin’s happened, hon.” Maryland says as he rounds the desk, Georgia coming around the other side, “Just wanted to visit ya for a bit.”

Gov purses his lips.

He’s suspicious.

Georgia settles his hands on the man’s shoulders from behind the chair as Maryland holds onto one of his arms.

Gov looks to Kentucky, who’s stayed resolutely by the door. He wants to reach out and call his son to his side— no, no. Not his son, they don’t want to be his children, they don’t want any relation to him. It’s why they only call him Gov.

He sees the southerners’ hand reach for the door handle, and he shifts to stand– he needs to get the door– but the hands on his shoulders go firm, and he finds he can’t move.

Panic grips his chest, as Kentucky turns the doorknob. Everything tunes out– the hands on his shoulders, the weight on his arm, the voices of Georgia and Maryland trying to soothe him. All he can hear, all he can sense, is the presence of a loaded gun behind the door–

He pulls himself out of their grip, faster than they can stop him, the jerking motion pulling his shoulder– and the metal that holds it– out of place. He grits his teeth at the feeling, tugging Kentucky out of the way as the door falls open–

BANG!

The bullet strikes him in his dislocated shoulder, and he grimaces silently, staring the politician, who now eyes the States behind him with fear.

He never often cared if they shot him, it’s been happening for centuries– less so now than in the age of dueling, but humans rarely change– but they never got away with it when any of his States were present.

He moves to do what he always does, close the door and handle it– but there’s a pair of hands on his arm, another body coming around to his front as a third tears into the hallway with a loud bellow– like a bear mauling those foolish to get too close to its cubs.

“Sit down– sit down.” Maryland hisses as Kentucky flutters next to them.

In this office, Gov has several loveseats and armchairs in front of his desk, and he soon gets pushed into one. He grunts at the jostling in his arm, confused for a moment, before he waves their hands off.

“Drawer– bottom left.” he mutters, “Gotta medkit in there.”

Maryland freezes for a moment, but Kentucky scurries off to grab the kit as told.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Maryland says, too sweetly, as Georgia hauls the bloodied politician into the office and chucks them a few ways down into the labyrinth. “Did you just say, ‘I have a medkit for things like this’? As in, this is a normal occurrence.”

Gov can feel Georgia glowering from behind him as he shifts, preparing to pop his arm back in its socket.

“Ignore that.” Gov says as Kentucky props the medkit open at his side, “Eli– Kentucky,” the man says, muttering under his breath, “Nein, nein. Kentucky, get the tweezers ready, alright?”

“Put your hands down.” Maryland shoves the younger entity’s hands to his sides, “You stay focused on telling me why you’re acting as if this is normal! Elias, Eli! Put those down and go get your Gigi and your Grandad. Now!”

The younger State pops away, and Georgia immediately takes his place.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Gov tries to shift away from their hands, “I’ll call Robin and it’ll be fine. It’s not the first, nor the last time, a politician has shot me.”

“Gonna need you to explain that, boy.” Georgia rumbles angrily, “You should be gettin’ shot never, preferably.”

“It happens,” he keeps trying to brush them away, barely grimacing when Georgia’s hands pop his shoulder and the metal plates back into place, “They can’t shoot each other, so they shoot me. They’re always behind the door waiting for me to open it, but it’s not every time.” he chokes on his breath when Maryland checks the wound, digging out the bullet with the tweezers, “Nearly shot Daniel once– just started opening the doors. Rather be me than the kids.”

“Jesus,” another voice speaks up, a new set of hands lifting his face to meet theirs. Pennsylvania, “Fuck, kid–”

“He says this is normal!” Maryland hisses as his suit coat is removed by Virginia, “He says it’s been happening for centuries!”

His sweater is pulled up over his shoulder so the bullet hole can be cleaned and wrapped.

Gov feels four sets of protective, furious eyes on himself, and he’s even more confused.

“It’s fine,” he assures, exasperated, “I’ve been shot far worse than this over things so minor I wasn’t even informed of it. At least I know this time it was over a legal dispute.”

He tugs his sweater back down over his arm, but leaves the suit coat off for the time being.

“They shoot you over things that don’t EVEN CONCERN YOU?!” Virginia near shrieks, and Gov flinches at the sound, “Why are we just now learning this information?!”

“It’s not important,” Gov stresses, but they just don’t seem to understand, “It has not and has never been important. It’s just something that happens.” he shoves himself up off the couch and past Pennsylvania, nearly stumbling– he’s so tired. “Thank you for your help, but it is incredibly unnecessary to take on such a chore–”

He’s tugged back by a hand on the back of his shirt, a snarl building up behind him.

“A chore?” An enraged voice asks as he’s pushed back into his seat, the four of them glaring at him, “You think patching up our son, after he’s been shot, is a chore?”

There’s a sudden tugging on his ear, and he flinches at the feeling.

“Young man, if you ain’t have metal in yer spine and just got a bullet put in ya, you’d’ve just earned yerself a whoopin’!” Virginia snaps, their thumb and index finger holding firm on the man’s ear for a moment before they let go, hands going to their hips.

The brunette rubs away the stinging feeling, grimacing as he glares straight back at them.

“I said it’s fine, how many times do I have to repeat that?” He snaps in response, baring his teeth in a snarl. “None of you are listening.”

“We ain’t gonna listen when you tell us gettin’ shot is fine.” Georgia growls.

“Because it is fine, when it’s me.” he goes to stand back, “Let me go, I have work to finish–”

“Adam Jones, if you take even one step close to that desk, yer age won’t stop me from dragging you down to the southern house.” Pennsylvania barks, crossing his arms as he speaks, “See if you can ‘get back to work’ after I kick yer ass.”

Gov freezes in place the moment he started speaking. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak– just stares straight ahead.

He stands there for so long that the anger starts to fade, replaced by a growing concern as the man doesn’t even twitch.

Georgia is the first one to step around to look at the man’s face, orange-brown eyes going wide when he sees the wetness in Gov’s grey ones.

“Oh, kiddo.” The large man brings the other close to him, pressing his face to Gov’s hair and letting the other hide in his windbreaker as the other three crowd around them, a flurry of concerned movement as Georgia feels a wet spot growing on his shirt. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

Gov’s shoulders are hitching, he doesn’t appear to be breathing properly, Georgia runs a hand through his hair in hopes to calm him down enough to get him to speak.

“You called me Adam…” the man says in heaving breaths, “You called me son.”

And suddenly, it made sense.

They haven’t called him either since 1814.

“Oh, baby…” Maryland runs his own hand across Gov’s shoulders, “It’s okay, hon, it’s okay…”

“You didn’t want me as your son–”

“No, no.” Virginia soothes, “You’ve always been our son, sweetie, it’s okay.”

“You left–”

“And it was the worst mistake we’ve ever made.” Pennsylvania snarls quietly from where he leans on Georgia’s arm, “And we’re so, so fucking sorry, kiddo.”

“My kids—”

“Miss you so much.” Georgia rasps, “They want nothing more than for their papa to come back.”

Gov makes a strangled sound, before he goes completely silent.

“Kiddo?” Pennsylvania whispers, “What’s up?”

“Please,” is the only response, “...just stop trying to open the doors… I can’t sleep with them always trying to…”

“Okay, okay.” Georgia kisses the top of his head, “We’ll stop, we’ll stop the kids too. Don’t worry buddy.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Virginia hums, “Just rest now, baby.”

Gov mumbles something, in response, before he goes limp with exhaustion.

The four of them look at each other over the top of his head.

They had to talk to the other States.

#wttt gov #wttt florida #wttt louisiana #wttt idaho #wttt iowa #wttt west virginia #wttt nevada #wttt connecticut #wttt delaware #wttt pennsylvania #wttt georgia #wttt maryland #wttt virginia #tw: gun violence #welcome to the table #welcome to the table au #wttt #family ties au #wttt kentucky

[enbysorcerer]

Day 4: Lost

Word Count: 488

TWs: none

“We’re lost,” Aquilla huffs, annoyed as they pass what looked like the same tree they’d passed twenty minutes ago. “And we’re going in circles.”

“We are not,” Kamaria tries to defend. “We’re just… it’s fine.”

Aquilla runs xyr hand over xyr face. “We were supposed to meet Elio by now. He’ll get worried.” They hadn’t planned on separating, but the person who owned the local orchard had asked for xyr help, and Elio had heard rumors that an old friend of his was in Xyrosa and would be leaving later that night. They’d ended up agreeing to split up just this once and Kamaria would go with Aquilla to keep xem out of trouble, a sentiment xe resented but understood. Sort of. It was getting annoying right now though.

“He’ll be fine,” Kamaria says. “He knows we’ll be there soon.”

Xe groan. “Can’t you just give me the map? I’m a bloody druid. If anyone can figure it out, it would probably be me.”

“I’ve got it.”

“You really don’t.” 

Kamaria looks up from the map to glare. “I handled the map before you got here, and we turned out just fine.”

“And how often did you get lost?”

Kamaria huffs. “Bitching at me isn’t going to get us there any faster.”

Aquilla opens her mouth to comment then closes it. Instead, xe saunter over to Kamaria, putting xyr arms around her shoulders and kissing her ear. “I’m sorry, love,” xe purrs. “You know how I get then things don’t go according to plan.”

Kamaria freezes. She looks over her shoulder at xyr face. “I know what you’re doing and it won’t work.”

“What won’t work?” Aquilla asks, pouting carefully. Xe don’t want to prove Kamaria’s point, but xe also want that map.

“You. This.” Kamaria gestures at xem. “This flirtatious thing you’re doing.”

Xe tilt xyr head innocently, putting on xyr best who me face. Xe slink around, keeping one hand on Kamaria at all times. Xe can feel her shiver beneath xyr touch. “I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t normally be doing,” xe purr, leaning in close enough to almost kiss her but not quite touching.

She swallows. “Y-yes you are. You’re…” she trails off as Aquilla presses closer. “Um…”

Aquilla takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss her properly, entangling xyr fingers in her hair. Xe move their opposite hand down Kamaria’s body, down her back and over her hips. Xe deepen the kiss as xyr fingers trail back up and over her arm to reach the map, which xe quickly swipe and jump away. “Aha!”

“Damn it,” Kamaria curses. “Give it back.”

“Nu-huh.” Aquilla sticks out xyr tongue as xe pursue the map. Ah, that’s where they went wrong. “I know how to get us back to town.”

“Sure you do.” Kamaria wraps an arm around Aquilla and yanks xem closer. “But you don’t get to kiss me like that and walk away.”

#ockiss24 #writing #aquilla #kamaria

[astrarift]

thursday - 24/08/2023 - take a picture of the baby while building

Allie was back with Phil for today, no one else was available to babysit them. They felt bad, feeling like ae was intruding on Phil and Tallulah's space. But xe had no idea where they wouldn't be intruding, other than xyr old home which xe did not want to go back to ever, so they didn't say anything.

Chayenne had woken up from his long sleep today, so ae finally got to meet him! That was nice. He taught ae how to cook some things, his backpack was full of ingredients more than Allie had ever seen.

Currently they were working on a small section of Tallulah's garden, under her direct supervision. Tallulah was directing them and Chayenne on where to put everything, and Allie was following the directions to the best of aer ability. Tallulah had put them on dirt digging duty after xe had dropped a handful of seeds.

And another row done! Allie looked up from the mossy ground of Tallulah's garden, ready to start digging small holes for the seeds with their claws in the next row but realized ae had finished.

Standing up ae wandered over to Tallulah who was carefully inspecting a bunch of saplings and sorting them. Chayenne walked up to her at the same time with a bundle of flowers in his arms.

"Lullah, where do these go?" Chayenne signed, shifting the flowers under his arm so he could speak. Tallulah contemplated for a second before pointing him towards the section Allie had just finished preparing. That made a small burst of pride erupt in Allie's chest. Ae did a good job!

"What can I do next to help," Allie asked, "I finished all the digging." Tallulah patted the space next to her.

"You can help sort these saplings, Chayenne got me too many and I need to figure out how many of each I have." Allie sat down next to Tallulah and started helping her sort through the saplings. It was truly a ton of saplings. Chayenne seemed to really care about Tallulah. Allie got a little sad. They suddenly wanted a sibling so badly. Ae didn't know that they felt lonely for so long until xe was faced with new friends and the idea of siblings so all of the waves of loneliness were crashing over aer.

Allie sniffled a little, they missed aer caretaker. Sure, the others in their old home were scary and mean but their caretaker was always nice to Allie.

They were knocked out of aer sad thoughts by Tallulah handing xyr more saplings to sort. Maybe they didn't need a sibling if ae had friends like Tallulah and Chayenne. Slime was nice too, if a little sad, maybe Allie could ask to be his friend too. Tallulah had also mentioned more kids on the island, Allie wanted to meet them. Although Tallulah said their family mostly kept to themselves, which was why Allie was staying with them for xyr safety.

Allie was too caught up in aer thought's that they nearly missed Phil calling for them. Tallulah poked them on the shoulder and Allie startled, seeing Chayenne suddenly very close to the two of them.

"Kids, look over here," Phil called, holding up a camera, "Smile!"

Allie pulled their lips back in what xyr thought looked like a smile, they had never really thought about smiling before, and as far as ae knew the first time they smiled or saw someone smile other than aer former caretaker was when the adults on the island took them in.

"Great," Phil said, looking at the camera, "You can continue building now." Chayenne nodded and went off to continue planting the flowers. Tallulah handed Allie another bundle of saplings, it was going to be a long couple of hours.

#qsmp #a1 adoption project #a1 task completion #a1 eggie adventures #sorry that this is a day late i was feeling sick most of yesterday #so to make up for it i'll be doing thursday and friday tasks today! #tried to add a teeny bit of lore into this one #kes writes

[featherbutt]

I've been thinking a lot about zombie apocalypses from the perspective of someone being turned. So, enjoy zombie apocalypse polycule everyone.

Warnings: Zombies, apocalypse, both romantic and platonic angst, bite wound, blood, infection, decay, body horror, unwanted thoughts and feelings and urges (cannibalism, harm to a loved one), vomit

Background Info: In this universe, zombification is a slow process, and one retains their humanity for an extended period of time. This follows the point of view of Maria (she/her) through the early to middle stages of becoming a zombie.

Today was the day.

Today was the day I felt myself truly slipping into the virus.

It started out with a bite. I went out with Ronja to the woods and it did its best to herd the hoard away, toward a kill she put out for them. However, I suppose that there will aways be things that go wrong, and that was my unlucky day.

One moment, I was collecting the lumber I had chopped, the next, I was holding my bleeding arm to my chest, as Ronja wrestled a zombies face into the dirt, attempting to calm it with the dried flowers we brought for the undead. It told me to run, and run fast. I did.

In the weeks following, Nahlia did xyr best to keep me from attracting the hoards, but with the stinking scent of rot and decay from my wound, it was virtually impossible for me to continue my work outside. So, I remained inside, decorated in flowers that xe would grow.

Those nights we would check the progress of the infection, the decaying of flesh creeping up my arm and down my hands... It felt like I was attending my own funeral.

I watched them cry, I watched them mourn, knowing one day I would no longer recognize them as my lover and as my friend.

I could only hope they would do what they had to when that day comes.

Today, I woke up, and knew I was different.

I had a hunger. A painful hunger. It only grew when Nahlia kissed me on the forehead, a gesture so innocent, but so cruel.

I could smell her. I could smell how its skin was alive. The blood just under the surface. I craved to dig my teeth into it. To feel the blood rush into my mouth as I bite Ronja.

Immediately sickened by the changes within me, I ran to the window, heaving out what little food I had eaten the night before.

Nothing but meat.

It didn't take long for Nahlia and Ronja to figure out what was wrong.

Nahlia was the one who approached me this time. Xe always was out in the garden, tending to the fragrant flowers and the bees who roamed it. Even making, and accidentally wearing, flower oils. It made xem always smell so sweet. Sweet enough to hide the scent of xyr flesh.

It was calming.

"Maria? How bad was it this time? The... change."

Xyr voice was gentle, trying to coax me into telling xem where I'm at in loosing my sense of self, rather than assuming the worst.

I try to clear my throat after I had finish emptying my stomach, but my voice is still hoarse as I speak.

"Urges, Nahlia. Nothing I cant fight on my own yet, but... it disgusts me. I'm... I'm afraid. I don't want you to loose me. I don't want to hurt either of you."

"We know, love," Ronja said soothingly, applying flower scented oils to itself from across the room, as it didn't want to make this any harder on me than it already was, "we'll make sure you don't."

-----To be continued?-----

I ran out of steam lol. Anyways, I may continue this one, I may not. But I've got a lot of zombie ideas. Plus, I'm enjoying these characters. I'll try to post our notes on this as well. Let us know any thoughts or constructive criticism <33

Inspo

#featherbutt #queue #evan.txt #writing #our writing #apocalypse #zombies #polycule #Maria (she/her) #Ronja (it/its) #Nahlia (xe/xem)

[karnvacurations]

Agents 3, 4, and 8 personal headcanons, because clearly we don't already have enough of them.

I don't even play sploon I just have agent brain rot lol.

Also little touches of agent 96 heheha.

Zenin, Agent 3, Bigender, He/She

Remember that thing Zenin does in Splatoon 1, where he wiggles his arms when spawning in when starting a mission? Yeah he does that for stimming.

After the green goo incident TM, he is able to move his eyes independently of one another. He thinks it's funny, and even useful at times, but it kinda freaks out her datemates, so she only does when she's alone or when necessary.

Has one (1) neutral auditory stim, and it's him scratching a stainless steel metal box beam. She discovered this when she was like 6.

He thinks freckles and bio-luminescence spots are very pretty and is bummed he doesn't have it himself.

Chews on her drawstrings even though she shouldn't, because they taste sweet to her.

Gently claps her hands when she feels accomplished over a minor thing, IE arranging her clothes or making tea.

He has a hobby of ordering and trying craft sodas, and his datemates sometimes join in as well.

Zenin is a pleated skirts + cargo pants kinda guy. Prettiness AND functionality.

Occasionally ingests pure salt because he likes the sensation afterwards. Also pineapple on pizza enjoyer.

Meythral, Agent 4, Agender, They/xe

Used to refer themself in third person as a joke, nowadays it became a fact of their life and part of their self-identity.

Really enjoys citrus foods, to the point where xe sucks straight from the fruit. Xer datemates kinda gotten into it as well to a lesser degree, to the delight of Meythral.

Sometimes Meythral involuntarily bends xer neck after eating a meal. Has been a thing since childhood. It hurts if xe tries to resist it.

Wears sunglasses when going out. Doesn't do much against glare, though.

Sometimes puts things on top their head, no matter how silly or strange it can be.

Occasionally they feel like wearing a trench coat, above-knee length. They usually don't care about matching attire, Meythral just really likes wearing a trench coat.

Has bio-luminescence spots, mostly in their shoulders and thighs. They glow a gentle cornflower blue.

Rarely, xe does slow non lyrical singing, with xer datemates virtually always jumping in if they can.

In violation of any anatomical and physiological sense, xe is able to constantly pop xer wrists and ankles. Nonstop.

Talfra, Agent 8, Demigirl, She/They

Likes to sunbathe on the rooftops. Sometimes Zenin and Meythral join in as well.

She has a thing for beaks and taking care of them. Her datemates sometimes allow her to clean theirs.

Doesn't need to wear glasses, they just do it to feel pretty.

Allowed their tentacles to grow long enough to make a really big ponytail, similar in length to Marina. Talfra sometimes let them loose to if they want to grab more things.

Polo shirt gal. Horizontal stripes are her favorite. She WILL take personal offense if you give her vertical stripes.

Her freckles are scattered throughout her arms and in the middle of her face. Talfra was self conscious of them for a long time, but her datemates helped overcome that feeling.

Sometimes she zones out, leading to situations where her tentacles, even when in a ponytail, will try to reach out for Zenin and Meythral if they're nearby.

When standing, she occasionally lifts one of her legs in a way similar to a flamingo. She can keep it up for a good while, although she loses slowly feeling her leg when doing it.

Talfra tends to give the look of a blank stare at people who aren't close to her. Her expression also hardens into an annoyed glare if they pester her or her loved ones.

#splatoon #agent 3 #agent 4 #agent 8 #agent 96 #karnva posts

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Medix: *does something cursed*

Princy: 😨

Medix: they will never believe you😈

STORYTIME!!!

It wasn’t a particularly busy day. The lessons were challenging but fairly manageable. If anything it was quiet…too quiet. Wait- nope, scratch that…

Prince was out for blood. Well, not literal blood, he just wanted to be annoying.

“Hey nerd~! Where are you hiding? I’m bored and I honestly wish you’d stop playing hide and seek and fight me already!” They searched everywhere- the cafeteria, the lounge, the lockers, Prince looked for Medix all throughout the academy. He looked for so long that it even became nighttime. And there was only one place left for the puny egghead to be. The garden.

—-

He was just standing there…dumbfounded.

When Medix looked behind xemself, xe only found xyr own shadow, so xe ignored it and thought it was some random animal. Medix did a double check with the shovel in xyr hands, too make sure that the ground was sturdy; and that the grass looked untainted enough. After all, it took a solid two hours to get a proper tombstone and a good place for the burial, and he didn’t want it to look too messy.

Prince had to act quickly, he had no idea what they just saw, but he knew that he could never unsee it. They were trying to back away when he accidentally stepped on twig, alerting Medix to his presence. Which gathered Medix’s newfound attention towards him…and away from the grave.

They both stood there staring each other down. Medix didn’t drop the shovel, in fact xe was more surprised at the fact that Prince looked somewhat worried about what he just saw. Until xe looked at Prince, to the grave, and then back at him, putting the pieces together in xyr processor.

Then it clicked. Medix’s optics lit up, putting on the most devious grin, looking Prince straight in the eye, and in the most sinister voice xe could make- xe said “They’ll never believe you.”

Prince had the most stunned look on their face as he took off running in other direction, scared for dear life. How was he going to explain this to the others? How was he going to explain this to the professors, to his classmates? Medix was probably right when xe said that no one would believe him. He just had to ask himself…who the hell was Schnoodles #5?

#transformers #tf fan continuity #transformers bold bright brisk #rescue bot recruits #maccadam #mymainmedix #princeywincy #asks #thanks for the ask! #rip schnoodles number 1-5 😔😔😔 #don’t you just love it when a freshman gets pranked?

[unwilling-souls-if]

How would the ROs react to finding an engagement ring hidden in the sock drawer? (Assume there is a sock drawer at H.E.L.L. lmao)

Hi! There are sock drawers at H.E.L.L. haha :)

Each employee has a bedroom, a private bathroom and a small kitchen. There are also a lot of common areas, since they’re only supposed to leave H.E.L.L’s realm for missions, it has to be a somewhat comfy place (a golden prison, some might say *cough Xander cough*, but most are okay with it). The people that worked there for a long time may upgrade their rooms, since it’s such a rare occurrence.

MC has a pretty nice view from their room due to their excellent record!

Assuming this is at a point in the relationship where marriage is a possibility:

Xander: He doesn't think it's an engagement ring at first. He knows you two are dating, but he half expects to wake up in his bed and realize it was all a dream. So when he sees the velvety box and the ring inside, it takes him a few long minutes of processing what it is (and that it's, in fact, for him). When he finally gets it, he panics and closes the drawer with full force before fleeing the room. He spends the rest of the week full of questions and nervosity, but he keeps his mouth shut in fear of being mistaken.

Charlotte: "Oh mon dieu!" Charlotte clasps a hand on her mouth and runs to your pillow to muffle an excited scream. They can't help but giggle with misty eyes as they fish out a ring in their coat pocket. Their father's. Their finger caresses the jewel, familiar with the coldness of metal and faded carvings. Great minds think alike, she's been carrying it in hopes to propose for some time now. Charlotte can't wait for the day it'll slip around your finger. Their most precious belonging with their most beloved.

Dione: Oh. Oh well. Dione freezes, her hand on the knob of the drawer. A faint flush colors her cheeks and she looks behind her shoulder to make sure no one is coming. She toys with the idea of wearing it for a brief moment. Just to see if it fits and, if you happened to see her, to see your face. Would you act coy? Would you get down on your knee then and there? She licks her lips, knowing full well she won't do it, out of respect for you. You didn't intend for her to find it yet. She closes the drawer with a sigh and hopes you'll propose soon– she has never been patient.

Perceval: Xe were just organizing your drawers when their hand brushed against it. Frowning, they closed their fist on it and extirpated a ring from the nest of fluffy socks. Xe almost dropped it in shock. Perceval's mouth opened as xe stared at the ring in xyr palm. Xe looked at it until xyr vision blurred with tears xe didn't even notice formed. Xe smiled softly, closing their fist and bringing it to xyr heart. "Oh, my love," they whispered to the void before putting the ring back where it belonged, delicately making sure socks covered it like they did before. They just had to wait now– or use the ring they wore as a necklace under their shirt to propose before you did.

Crescent: It feels like the world has stopped. There is no sound besides the blood thumping in their temples, nothing except this ring shining tauntingly at Crescent, catching the sunrays through the blinds. They are unmoving, arms limp at their sides. If you told their past self one day they'll be looking at an engagement ring without being absolutely terrified, they would laugh at your face. They didn't expect it to set off butterflies in their stomach, and even less to crave it. To crave you. Commitment has never felt so safe, so right, to Crescent than it feels with you.

#ro:crescent #ro:charlotte #ro:perceval #ro:xander #ro:dione #a tiny bit of #lore #maybe ?

[charaznablescanontoyota]

lorcan comes back from the mints' last postseason game to find briskie and rosa sitting on opposite ends of the kitchen table, both staring intently, hands held palm-down against the wood.

"did you guys order dinner, or -" ey starts, and gets shushed by two voices in unison.

"are you a blaseball player?" briskie asks no one in particular. "once for yes, twice for no."

there's a knock on the table, plain as day, though neither rosa nor briskie's hands move.

"what the fuck," lorcan says.

"there's a ghost," rosa says, and doesn't elaborate. "how was your game?"

"we sucked," lorcan says, letting eir backpack of equipment fall to the floor, striding into the kitchen to take eir own seat at the table. "don't we have ghosts? i thought they just, like, stayed in the crawlspace. or they're arturo moving shit around in the fridge at night."

"it's something new," briskie says. "or - they are. probably not dead. the ones in the trench never did this. knock twice if you're dead."

another singular knock, right on the heels of the request. whoever it is must be right here, listening.

"knock once if you're alive but invisible?" lorcan ventures, and gets one more knock in response.

"interesting," rosa muses. she takes her hands from the table, evidently satisfied that it's none of them doing the knocking, and twists her hair up into a bun.

"probably one of the fallen players," briskie says. "hank said the ones who didn't join active play are somewhere we can't see. the garages have one and apparently xe can make phone calls out." he purses his lips. "why come here, though...i don't know."

"well, clearly they're here for a reason," rosa says. her eyebrows are furrowed together, her fingers still teasing at her hair like they do when she's mulling over a problem. "could you be...arturo's husband?"

two knocks.

"enid?" lorcan tries, hopefully.

two more knocks. damn.

"what if we put down a bunch of tlopps cards," lorcan says, "and they pick one?"

ey realizes the problem as soon as the suggestion leaves eir mouth - no hands to point with, and no evidence that the invisible player can hold a pen or move an object. nobody even has to say it, though briskie half-arches an eyebrow and it's clear he's thinking it. lorcan appreciates the discretion, anyway.

"this is the worst fuckin' game of twenty questions ever," ey mutters.

"are you..." rosa trails off, considering. "a former crab?"

one knock.

"who was in active play?" she continues.

one knock.

"in the discipline era."

two knocks. rosa pauses.

"the expansion era?"

one knock. lorcan imagines expansion era crabs lineups in eir mind's eye, tries to sift through them, separate the old-timers from the late arrivals. leave out everyone who's already playing for a team right now, and...

"were you on the team in season 24?" briskie asks.

one knock.

"alston," lorcan says suddenly, sitting bolt upright. ey laughs, and slaps eir hands over eir mouth like ey's trying to hold it in. "holy shit. it's alston."

"ah," briskie says. his face is carefully neutral - alston's who he was traded for, and he doesn't talk about it, but maybe he's never gotten over that. he'll be alright, though, lorcan thinks. he can compartmentalize.

"well, that's settled. welcome to ohio, alston," rosa says, glancing around the room. there's still no telling where alston actually is. they'll find workarounds, surely. "can you eat? are you hungry? i think we were just about to order dinner."

#loosely based on hayden waveridden's thing abt fallen players being invisible/ghostly if they're not on the roster!! #blaseball #marn writes #lorcan smaht #brisket friendo #rosa holloway #alston cerveza #also welcome to my hc about all these people + arturo living in the luistot ohio house

[fenmere]

Murder on the Sunspot

Here is the first murder of passion we've ever written. In a recent book, we've written a couple of fascist executions, and prior to that an accidental manslaughter. But this one's got a struggle and a handful of vicious cusses preceding the deed. It's at the end of the first chapter of our next book, so not a spoiler. CN for murder, vividly coarse language, emetophobia, and all that:

“Shegrräo, you suppurating anus! My rejection of your sibling’s advances is none of your fucking business!” hissed the murder victim, probably Rrefka, still alive, but certainly not for long. They were brandishing the stake that would eventually make its way through their gut.

Shegrräo was bigger than them, and had six arms and legs like `errke and Nir had. Where the victim expressed mostly reptilian phenotypes, Shegrräo more closely resembled the forward grassland dogs that had a symbiotic relationship with the primates there. Only much bigger, and wearing a colorful poncho. And the dogs didn’t have six legs. Few fauna did.

Sharwe could see all this playing out, superimposed on the very real scene of the murder that was before them all. The others were possibly watching their own versions at their own paces.

“No. Pause,” Nir murmured.

Sharwe kept watching.

“I’ve made it my business,” Shegrräo’s recording growled.

“You sure the fuck have,” Rrefka shouted back. “And I need you to back off!”

“Or what?”

The two stared at each other over the firepit, muscles tense and twitching. A pot that was no longer present was bubbling, placed directly in the fire. Shegrräo had a large enough bag to carry the pot, some food, and maybe a few other things. Rrefka appeared to be empty-handed besides the big stake, which looked like it was made from fresh wood.

People normally didn’t craft things out of actual wood. Not unless they were ceremonially honoring a recently dead tree. But there were processed laminates, epoxies, and forms of nanite clay that could very closely mimic wood, even when worked by hand. This looked like genuine wood.

Sharwe activated the recordings annotations.

Yep, real wood, from a Sunspot Fir. Oh. Shegrräo’s pronouns were xe/xyr/xem, and Rrefka’s was rrem.

Hissing menacingly, Rrefka started to stalk rrems way into the little clearing. Cautious but threatening. Rrem already held the stake high, but rrem managed to lift it even higher before slowly lowering it and gripping it with both hands, eyes narrowed.

“You better be awfully certain of your next actions, Rrefka, because there’s only one ending the steps your taking now are gonna lead you to,” Shegrräo intoned.

“I don’t know,” Rrefka said. “I see a couple of possibilities.”

“You must be an optimist.”

“Apologize and back off, or shut up, Shegrräo.”

“You must love that stick, Rrefka, because I can see you humping the fuck out of it in a few seconds. It’s such a clear vision, you know?”

“Must be hallucinating.”

“Pretty sure I’m not…”

Snarling, Rrefka lunged to the left, then drove to the right to step around the campfire.

Shegrräo calmly watched the other Monster feint, then stepped in time with Rrefka right into rrems lunge, rising up on hind legs, and grappling with all four hands. Top hands went to Rrefka’s shoulders, lower hands to the stake to push it aside.

Rrefka’s enormous hind claws and surprisingly long and supple tail gave rrem considerable balance. Rrem was pushed back only a decimeter or so, and stayed stoic and upright, bearing rrems teeth.

Rrem jerked rrems head to the side as Shegrräo snapped at rrems face with finger sized canines.

“You fucker,” Rrefka shouted in Shegrräo’s parabolic ear. Then rrem tried a downward swiping kick with rrems left foot, right foot digging further into the ground.

Shegrräo flinched at the shout, then deftly avoided the kick by holding Rrefka back and finally putting rrem off balance momentarily. Then, as Rrefka dropped rrems foot and regained rrems balance almost immediately, xe quietly twisted the stake out of Rrefka’s grasp, turned the point toward rrems gut, and pulled with xyr top arms while shoving with xyr arm legs, which gripped the stake.

In that one, swift, vice-like action, Shegrräo put the stake right through Rrefka’s bowls and out past rrems spine as easily as skewering a mushroom.

Sharwe sympathetically exhaled, clenching gems stomach, and then felt like vomiting. A few seconds later, Togi had a similar reaction.

As xe almost gently lowered the astonished Rrefka to the clearing floor, Shegrräo whispered, “You walked right into your own weapon there, friend. But you sure did it with way more conviction than just about any other time you were faced with a choice. Gotta give that to you. I respect it. I’ll make sure the others know.”

#Sunspot Chronicles #murder scene #science fiction #It's actually still going to be a bit of a mystery even though it's all recorded clearly and played out for everyone

[eri-223]

Destiny 2: Symbiosis

(For @xivu-arath and featuring their Omen-5. These two are a fascinating match and I wouldn't mind writing a longer story with them one day.)

They had met another time, Kass and Omen, but that was before the Throne World, before the excess of life that colonized Kass’ eye and cheek. Kass hadn’t expected to see Omen’s familiar face again in the courtyard of the Siblings of the Holy Orb, during the time of Rasputin’s slow revival. 

Curtains thin enough to see through hung from the columns around the temple. A shallow pool glittered blue in the sunny, open courtyard.

Kass was returning a book. The Siblings had been a partner group to the temple where she had taken her sabbatical. The librarians knew each other. They had known, therefore, when the Siblings unearthed from an older, lost sect a book about Light corruption.

Light corruption had been a theory when this book was written. Light-as-cancer, Traveler-as-tumor. It wasn’t how Kass wanted to think about the golden eye sunken into her socket, the pinpricks of seed-stuff she felt around it sometimes like the spokes of a wheel or the legs of a spider. Eris had magicked those back under her skin, but Kass could feel them. 

Omen looked like xe needed help.

Xe had paused at the bottom of the wide, low steps to scratch at xyr own arm. Claws shaved off the top layer of Tree bark sculpted like a shoulder. It met Exo metal somewhere under xyr short-sleeved tunic. 

As she moved to greet Omen, Kass put on the posture of the Young Wolf like a cape. She’d done enough parades that she could turn it on, now; the set of shoulders just so, the set of graceful hands. Only the fact that she was wearing flowing robes instead of armor and the eye itself couldn’t be changed. Ready this way, she swept down the stairs. 

“Omen?” She said softly. 

Xe stopped trimming bark immediately. “Ikora told me I might find you here. She told me …” Xyr hesitation seemed intentional, not for dramatic effect but as if xe were listening to a signal from far away. “You’d have a book.”

“It might not help.” Kass’ eye ached. Sympathetic phantom. How inconvenient. “I didn’t find anything. The theory, though …”

“What about the theory?”

Kass fumbled. Xe was very direct. But many Warlocks were. “I found it interesting.” She handed the book out, but xe didn’t take it. 

Omen met her eyes. “Thank you. Ikora knows it is hard for me to stay in the City for long, but she thought this meeting was important. I think it is.” 

Kass looked up. Diaphanous curtains swept across the horizon of the Traveler. “Can you not stay because of the Light?”

Omen nodded, so xyr answer surprised Kass. “No. The City itself … isn’t right for me. Does the Traveler change how your Tree feels?”

This question, too, struck Kass as direct. It was pleasant, though. Some people did not want to speak to her as if anything had changed. She had started to want a happy medium between their silence and Eris’ intimate tending. Your tree, xe had said. She didn’t always think of it as hers, yet the words felt right. 

“I am glad you asked.” Kass gave a parade smile. It felt uncomfortable. 

Her Ghost drifted along to a polite distance to talk to Omen’s, and Kass used the moment xyr eyes flicked to the Ghosts to relax her expression.

“The Light makes my eye … brittle,” Kass said. “Or erupting. I don’t know what to call it. It broke open not long ago. Bled sap.”

Omen nodded as if this was both normal and interesting. “One of the hyacinthoides — it’s a whole family of plants, very loose classification of plants — on Nessus softened the bark a little. Made it more comfortable. But I haven’t studied it long.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“If I can find more, I’ll let you know,” xe said.

“Trade?” Kass asked. 

Xe reached out for the book, and Kass gave it. Leather binding whispered against metal fingers. We should be better friends, she found herself thinking, except for the physical distance between them. Kass’ position made her unusually sedentary for a Hidden when not throwing herself against the solar system’s worst enemies. Omen, as far as she knew, wandered more. There were as many similarities as differences, though; she suspected but did not know for certain that they viewed romance and attraction with similar baffled indifference. 

The conversation had been so easy. A simple trade. No complicated pity. That was worth a lot. 

They talked some more and the feeling of ease stayed. The smile she left Omen with wasn’t the one people saw at the parades. It was softer, crinkled the skin around her good eye more. She felt the spokes under her skin move with it. 

#destiny 2 #gentle body horror #kass #omen-5 #writings

[athenswrites]

Knight of Dawn: Chapter 12 [NYTF]

Grady gently dabbed an alcohol wipe on the nasty slice on their hand, cleaning the dirt and blood from the cut. “You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

Piers didn’t make eye contact, flinching at the burn of the alcohol. Blood seeped from the deep cut still, as Grady coated the cut in a clear spray-on bandage. She gently closed their hand, before reaching up to hold the side of their face.

“Hey.” She tilted their head up a little, so she could look them in the eyes. “I care about you. I want to take care of you. But you have to let me. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you.” Their voice came out hoarse.

“Let me see your side.” Piers stood from their spot on the bed, and Grady gently lifted their shirt, inspecting their side. Gently, she ran her cold fingers over the sorest spot, “It’s not even bruised yet and I can already see the redness. Do you need anything for it?” 

They shook their head, and Grady sighed, “Piers, that was a request that you take something. You need to get Panya to look at that. I know xe knows-”

A knock sounded at the door, and Grady fell silent. Marcie came bursting into the room seconds later, followed closely by Hansel. 

“I’m here, I’m here. We’ve got like 20 minutes and they’re not even dressed.” Marcie huffed, dropping the various things in her arms onto the bed—hair products, shoes, a red vest, makeup, the whole shebang. She forcibly maneuvered them over to their desk, sitting them down. Looking over their hair, she clicked her tongue, before talking to Grady, pointing at the stuff on the bed. “You know it won’t do anything, but put some of that product in it and call it a day.”

Grady gave Marcie a nasty look.

Hansel stepped in, coming over to where they sat. He pumped a handful of the mousse into his hands, and gently worked it through their hair. His nails scraped against their scalp, as he raked their hair back out of their face. Awkwardly, Piers sat there as Marcie and Hansel turned them into some sort of doll, trying to manage their hair, applying makeup, and finally shoving them into their closet to get dressed. Piers whined as they took off their outside clothes, pain flaring through their side. They took the time to unbutton the white shirt and vest, so they didn’t have to reach so far. The muted red made them look younger, to themself. Like a kid again. Adele had always insisted on what she called a “cohesive color scheme”.

“Hurry! We have less than five minutes before we need to be downstairs!” Marcie demanded. Piers knew her getting up everyone’s ass and controlling everything was her way of controlling her grief, but they weren’t sure how long they put up with that. Pulling on the tight black pants, they took several deep breaths, trying to keep themself from crying. The textures threatened to send them into some sort of sensory meltdown, which combined with the grief, would be a wonderful breakdown on camera.

“Are you sure I have to wear this? It’s all pretty tight.” They mumbled, stepping out and showing the outfit to Hansel in particular. He and Marcie looked the outfit up and down with a critical eye.

“Red doesn’t fit. Why didn’t we do green, like I said?” He asked Marcie, who shook her head aggressively.

She brushed off the vest, popping the collar and bringing a black tie around their neck as she spoke. “Red is the color of the entire Hall family. Adele would want them to wear this. It’s Georgi’s old vest, which is the feeling which we’re trying to go for here. Georgi wore it for his first appearance as king, and so did Adele. It ties Piers to the family-”

“It’s too old-fashioned. I want blue.” Hansel cut her off, and Marcie obviously sneered with disgust, as he dipped into Piers’ closet. Piers made eye contact with Grady who sat on the bench at the end of their bed, just as confused as they were about why there was such a big deal over color.

“It’s this vest or nothing.” Marcie snapped, a visible shake in her hands as she tied the tie.

After a moment, Hansel popped out of the closet, holding a pastel blue sweater, the same color as Councilor Sidney’s hair. Marcie made a face, but he elected to ignore her, talking to Piers instead. “How about this? It’s friendly. It’s peaceful. It’s secure. It’s modern. It’s everything you want to be, plus it’s just a really pretty color. And, it’s not green for once, because you already vetoed that.”

Piers wasn’t sure what to say, and Grady stepped in, “I think it works. Give it.” 

She stood and took the sweater off the hanger, then unbuttoned their vest. They let her put it on them, smoothing out the fabric and popping the collar of their shirt over the neckline.

“I like it. Grab that navy mask you have and let’s get moving.” Hansel instructed, and Grady handed them the one from their meetings the day prior. Pulling it on, they looked to Marcie, who looked incredibly anxious. They waited until Grady and Hansel stepped out to talk.

“Marcie?”

She opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something, but didn’t. Instead, she put a motherly arm around Piers’ shoulders, guiding them towards the door. Piers made it downstairs to the interview room with seconds to spare. The studio had been transformed since the last time they’d been down here, with new black armchairs and a modern-looking coffee table sitting in front. The lights shone bright and the cameras sat pointed at the two chairs. Mugs of some drink sat steaming on the low table, perfectly placed on top of matching coasters.

“Your majesty! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” One of the camera operators spoke, giving a slight bow before shaking their hand. The whole room fell silent, and everyone followed suit, coming up to greet them. Names blended together as Piers awkwardly smiled, shaking hands. Some of the people they vaguely knew from Adele’s PR team, others new, but no one familiar—

“Piers, I am just ecstatic to finally speak with you as Monarch!” A lady, in her late 40s and wearing a purple dress, was last in line. Unlike the others, they recognized her.

“Jana Kicks. It’s always a pleasure.” Piers shook her hand, a small smile finally sneaking on their face. Jana had been serving as the leading Royal Correspondent to the local news stations for years, and she spent practically all her time in the Palace, but Piers hadn’t seen her often outside of press appearances. She’d interviewed them several times, notably after their recovery from IR, sharing their journey publicly.

“I, along with my colleagues, have so many new questions for you, Piers! We didn’t get to discuss everything back in November.” She hugged them and dropped her voice, whispering in their ear, “If you need to take a break at any time, please just let me know.”

Piers pulled away a little, although not uncomfortable, “It’s…I’m okay right now, at least. Just unfortunate timing, you know?”

Jana gave a sympathetic smile, before gently guiding them towards the seats. They took the left, while she took the one on the right. The lights shone right in their eyes, blinding and incredibly hot. 

“Thirty seconds until we’re on air.” Some man spoke from somewhere behind all the bright lights.

“Ferris is our new producer. Just listen to whatever he says,” Jana instructed them as she opened something in her own lens, “Other than that, just respond to whatever I say or ask, look at the camera occasionally, and be you. You’ve been here enough to at least know what’s going on, though.”

“Thank you. And please, call me Piers on air. You call me Piers, everyone in the Palace calls me Piers, so why can’t the people as well?”

Jana laughed, smiling, “Making you seem like family to everyone else... I can do that.”

“You have a reputation.” Marcie snapped in their earpiece, from somewhere in the room, while Grady simultaneously made a noise of approval. Piers flushed red a little under their mask, but they brushed it off as being overheated under the lights.

“We’re live in 5…4…3…2…1…” Ferris interrupted, loudly counting down.

“Hello and welcome to Atlanta’s Home News. I’m your royal correspondent, Jana Kicks, and today we’re landed the first and most exclusive interview with the newly crowned Monarch of Georgia, their Majesty, Jillian Piers.” Jana smiled brightly and gestured towards them.

Piers nodded to the camera, plastering a smile on their face which they hoped didn’t seem fake, “Hello Atlanta and beyond! I’m so glad to be here speaking with y’all once again!”

Jana picked up when they fell silent, somehow speaking to both them and the camera at the same time. “So, before we came on air, I got the chance to look through the thousands of questions submitted to us. Of course, we can’t hit all of them today, but we’ll definitely be able to ask some of the highlights.” 

Near the central camera, a teleprompter had been set up. From Piers’ angle, they couldn’t see the words, but they could see something was now on the screen.

“Let’s start off with our most popular question: How should the state’s people refer to you? While we’ve had royalty change titles, we’ve never had a royal without a gendered title before.” Jana paused, and Piers knew it was their cue. And, bonus, it was a question they knew was coming.

“Monarch Jillian Piers or Their Majesty, technically. It’s styled the same as past royalty. I don’t mind just being called Monarch Piers, though.”

Jana nodded thoughtfully, giving the interview a natural pause, before quipping, “Not Monarch Jillian Piers?”

“Nope, just Piers.” They laughed resting their elbow on the arm of the chair, giving a little grin to the camera.

Jana rolled her eyes, also laughing playfully, before reading the next question off the teleprompter, “Well, Monarch Piers, let’s get on to the next question: In the next year, what do you foresee as being the biggest issue you want to tackle?”

Like Jana, Piers gave a good (fake) pause, getting their thoughts in order so they’d come out comprehensible to the average person. “Personally, I think the biggest issue I want to tackle in the next year is stabilizing the economy. I know with every transition from monarch to monarch, there’s some uncertainty with their new economic policy and how regulations will change, which can throw the economy out of cycle. Plus, we’re coming off several years where inflation has been rapidly increasing, making life significantly less affordable for the average person in this state. I think I have some policies I’ve been developing with several Councilors which will help cut down on inflation without spiraling us into an economic depression. Other issues I want to get a handle on are living conditions in areas like the Port of Entry and the Crashing District, but I know those are going to take significantly longer than a single year to deal with...”

The interview continued to go back and forth. Piers hadn’t read through the list of questions that Marcie had sent, but most of the ones Jana asked were ones they had expected. Questions about economic policy. Questions about their diplomatic relations with other states. Questions about their own personal spending, a notorious downfall of Adele’s—

It was easier not to think about her if they could.

As the interview wound down, the questions got a little more off track, a little less…political.

“So, Piers, we had several people asking, where do you see yourself in ten years. Still as Monarch? Taking a more backseat role to the Council? Married?” Jana grinned, and Piers rolled their eyes, taking the final sip of their now-cold mint tea and sitting the empty white mug down on the table beside Jana’s.

“Still as Monarch, I think. But I definitely want to take a more active role in listening to my people and doing what they want, like James and Kylar originally did. And yeah, maybe I’ll get married along the way, but I don’t know who yet. I’ve lived my entire life in this Palace—I haven’t gotten to go out and you know, meet some bachelorettes.” They playfully answered, giving a shrug, “Who knows.”

NYTF WIP PAGE

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