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girly-blogging · 2 years

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here are my favorite daemon/rhaenyra fanfics:

i can always update this post since there’re a lot of new stories being written everyday and the shipp just became popular so it’s not like i’ve read a lot of stuff

i can make other lists since there are a lot of good stories i’ve read from other fandons specially marvel, dc and harry potter fics

Don’t Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy

Summary:

The Realm answers to Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra answers to Daemon

An Early Allies!AU

rating: mature

chapters: 10/30

I love this one because rhaenyra is always gaslighting, gatekeeping and girlbossing.

Of Dragons and Eggs

Summary:

Caraxes knew his human better than he knew anyone else and when it came to the matter of his silver haired rider finding a mate, naturally he knew which lady his human had his heart set on. So why was it that his human didn't seem to acknowledge the truth that was as clear as day?

Prompt: Daemyra from the dragons' point of view.

rating: gen

chapters: 1/1

a bit of crack and fluff is always good for the heart.

pontential

Summary:

“Do you normally snog your friends?”

“Do you normally snog your nieces?”

One strange night throws Rhaenyra’s relationship with her ersatz uncle off-kilter. A modern AU.

rating: explicit

chapters: 6/6

I’m not much of a modern au reader but i really like this one

Dust on a Sunbeam

Summary:

“We are the fire and the blood— it has never been our way to go quietly when there is passion burning through our veins. You have chosen each other, and tied my hands while doing so.”

Rhaenrya and Daemon have cemented their relationship in a way that even the crown cannot undo. A HOTD AU.

rating: explicit

chapters: 7/?

this is really cute

Glory and Gore

Summary:

Set at the beginning of Episode 3, the situation in the Step Stones is dire and yet Viserys refuses to send aid to Daemon's forces. When Rhaenyra hears how her father is more determined to teach Daemon a lesson then ensure that he comes home safe to her, she flies off to join her uncle's war effort.

On those bloodied beaches, Rhaenyra proves herself to be a strong, capable leader worthy of the Iron Throne, cementing her inheritance. However, she also finds herself increasingly drawn into her uncle's orbit, sparking the beginnings of something that could be her salvation, or her downfall.

rating: explicit

chapters: 4/?

rhaenyra is such a girlboss i love this story

Reborn in Fire

Summary:

After dying in dragon fire by the maw of her brothers dragon, Rhaenyra wakes up the day of her mothers death. Armed with foreknowledge of all the catastrophes to come, can she redirect the course of fate to one where she gets all she wants?

rating: not rated

chapters: 11/?

i love this one so much can barely wait for the next chapters

Make me your wife

Summary:

Since she was small, the princess has been wont to ask him the same question - whether as a childish demand, a youthful jest, a plea for protection or a romantic notion – but those words take on a different shine when spoken at her own wedding celebrations to another man.

***

Or, the five times Rhaenyra asks Daemon to be her husband, and the one time he asks her to be his wife.

rating: mature

chapters: 1/1

i love 5+1 fics so much

the home we built (for them)

Summary:

Daemon is trying to get Rhaenyra’s boys to like him as they blend their families

rating: teen and up

chapters: 1/1

domestic daemyra and their kids? count me in!!

Lentor

Summary:

"The babe is still much smaller than they should be, Princess," he says. "And your last birth was not an easy one."

"I do not have to be reminded of that," she remarks sharply. "I was the one pushing him out.”

Daemon smirks.

“The Maester means well, wife.” His hand runs down her arm, soothing. “We shall have to be extra careful with your health this time.”

Or: scenes from a marriage and the family it built. Contains book spoilers, although I don't know if the show will follow every plot point.

rating: explicit

chapters: 1/1

this is a bit sad but i loved it

Something So Good, So Pure

Laenor Velaryon passed out drunk on his wedding night, but that’s not to say Rhaenyra Targaryen spent her wedding night alone. Nine months after being married, she gives birth to a daughter with silvery blonde hair and lilac eyes, forever changing the history of House Targaryen.

rating: mature

chapters: 14/?

this is definitely one of my favorite fics, the author really understands the asoiaf universe and i just love seeing all targaryens being a family

got any recommendations? send me!!

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hezuart · 7 months

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Now that all Chapters for The Sounds of Nightmares have come out, what do you think of it, the characters, the new lore it has given the series & how has this changed some of your views on the characters & world?

It's a cute story, an alternate take on the overall series, but I don't consider it canon to the LN series. The lore from the podcast suggests that real children from the real world are teleported to this strange scary place in their dreams like an Alice in Wonderland situation, which explains their nightmares or why they seem to "wake up" because they are "teleporting" in or something. But that's not the case for the video game series. The game series is a time loop. Characters "wake up" from a "nightmare" because they are receiving premonitions of their death or a future event. (That also might explain why the Lady has a portrait of Six. Because she's dreamed of her own demise at the hands of that child.) (It's also suggested that the adults' grotesque appearances are due to the Tower's influence in the city, and any weird faces they have are actually masks built by the Doctor to cover their dignity.)

I'm also a little confused with the ending, where Noone/Ruth wants to leave, she wants to go to this place because she doesn't have her "water sickness" or "tumor" anymore, but like... the amount of suffering and horror she has been subjected to in that world in comparison to what little Otto has put her through I don't think is something that can even remotely be compared. It's implied the Ferryman manipulated her to lure her to that world, but it's a poor manipulation on his part. The fact that she went along with it is also silly to me. She is a child, but a smart one for her age. She witnessed kids being tortured and killed in the Nowhere. I think Otto being mean to you and plugging you into an annoying machine that gives you headaches is a way better deal here. (Though Otto implied to have drugged her is messed up) The Ferryman was a scrapped character from LN1 who would take children from the mainland and deliver them to the Maw, insinuating he was hired by the Lady. Instead, now he's a Ferryman to overall dimensions who transfers children there for unknown reasons. (It's maybe implied there are several different dimensions in the "nowhere" too.) It's also hinted that Otto's sister Sisi wore a yellow raincoat, which many would mistake for Six (on top of her name), but Six didn't get a raincoat until later, leaving Five/Girl in the Raincoat to be nominated for being his actual sister. But this world also implies that children only teleport there when they are sleeping, so typically they'd be wearing pajama attire when they enter the Nowhere. Long story short, I think this whole "yellow raincoat" thing with Sisi is just an easter egg they threw in there without thinking about it; because either way, a tie-in to an already-known character doesn't make sense. Noone/Ruth also claimed that the Nomes were creatures that "belonged in that world" but that's not true, as in canon, Nomes originate from presumably one source: the Lady, who turns children into Nomes to presumably steal their youth from them. In the podcast, that would mean the Nomes were children converted to be part of the world, but truly they don't originate from it like Noone implies. Little Nightmares is a series about the supernatural. A horror meta-commentary on corruption and greed. The Podcast coming in and being all "Actually it's just Alice in Wonderland" instead of it being its own natural, strange world just doesn't sit right with me. So really overall, I don't see it changing my mind on how LN works. I don't know if this will tie into LN3, but the developers are different so you can consider it a new canon if they do change things that don't match up.

#little nightmares #ask #text post #the sounds of nightmares #LN

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distant-velleity · 4 months

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i don't feel like giving this one a proper header and everything because it's only abt 600 words but

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

(or Davis' first day in Savanaclaw)

“So this is the twerp from Royal Sword Academy? He doesn’t look like he fits in Savanaclaw at all.”

Davis feels himself wither under the intense, judging gazes of his new dorm mates.

Sure, he’d been in a rowdy dorm full of horseplay and roughhousing back at RSA, but that had been by their standards. He doesn’t remember being glared at this fiercely under the bright sun and arid atmosphere. And the people he’d known previously hadn’t been this—this built. Or tall.

Silently, he curses Crowley for leading him here and then promptly ditching him in the maws of a metaphorical (or literal?) beast. What a sham, and then that rude thought is shoved into the pile of things he needs to mentally rid himself of.

“I don’t get why the Dark Mirror assigned me to this dorm either,” he replies defensively, pointedly staring at the gaps between his upperclassmen to avoid meeting their eyes. He knows better than to make eye contact with predators. “So can you just let me through, please?”

The building entrance is right there. It’s so close. Just let me through, for the love of the Seven…

“A real polite guy we got here, huh?” Before Davis can even look affronted, a tiger beastman grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls. “We don’t let just anyone in here, y’know. Gotta make sure the freshmen are worthy, ‘specially pampered lordlings like you.”

A pampered lordling? He isn’t sure whether he should feel offended or depressed. Are you kidding me? I’m one of the least pampered Royal Sword students you’ll ever meet—

In any case, even though he feels terrified and totally out of his depth like he did when he first came to RSA and met all the “newsies,” Davis grits his teeth. Fingers clenched into a fist with his thumb wrapped around them, like the guys taught him. Braces himself to draw back and—

Someone’s voice, approaching, interrupts everything. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Aren’t you guys in too much of a rush?” A lanky beastman—hyena, Davis recognizes immediately, those ears look like they came straight from a textbook—strolls over with a hand on his hip. “The lunch line is one thing, but this is just some run-of-the-mill guy. Sure, he’s an RSA guy so there’ll be some fun in hazing ‘im, but…”

He laughs. “C’mon, you guys have got better things to do. Unless you want Leona to tell you the same thing?”

The guy holding onto Davis slackens his grip before letting go altogether.

Even though he’s Davis’ height and skinnier still, this hyena beastman looks right at home with the others… No, that’s not quite it. They listen to him even if they lack true respect for him, or at least back down when he’s around, so the dynamic is slightly different. And invoking someone else’s name means he must have ties to that person in… power…

Oh, thinks Davis with tired resignation, there’s a hierarchy here too. What was I expecting?

As the upperclassmen disperse, the hyena walks over and clamps a hand down on Davis’ shoulder. It’s supposed to seem friendly, but if anything, it feels more like the weight of a collar and leash. “Sorry about that, new guy, but you’re gonna have to get used to it. The name’s Ruggie Bucchi, and”—he smiles—“I’m gonna be one of your roommates for the rest of the year.”

“Davis Jayme,” Davis says, cautiously. “It’s… a pleasure to meet you.”

Ruggie’s smile shifts just barely into something like a smirk, eyes glinting, and that’s all Davis needs to recognize that the next few months will not be easy on him.

#kai's writing #twisted wonderland #twst #ruggie bucchi #twst oc #davis jayme #ill talk more abt davis' upbringing and what actually happened at rsa soon #but. for now. silly time

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arthursknight · 2 years

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i am not ashamed to be mentally ill.

i am an adult who lived way past her allotted time, if statistics are anything to go by. i am a PTSD survivor. i am bipolar. i have consistently high and severe anxiety scores whenever i take diagnostic tests to confirm my treatment plan. i have some of the worst body dysmorphic disorder my past therapists have ever seen. some days, the maw of my depression threatens to swallow me whole. i have had those i love tell me they like me better when i am manic.

i have tried nearly every SSRI. at one point in my therapeutic cycle, i was on five separate medications to keep me alive and sane. i go to therapy twice a week. i dissociate constantly. my body locks up when it all becomes too much.

and yet.

i am not ashamed to be mentally ill.

some of it was born from trauma, a weight i would not have to shoulder if Things Were Different. some of it might have been hereditary, though i am the first person in my entire family to have a formal diagnosis (and hey, i didn't stop at just one!). and some of it still might just be one big cosmic joke. i don't know.

but it lives with me, and i live with it.

i am not ashamed. the beat of my heart drags across concrete and my brain is static along the edges, but i am not ashamed. there are days when the thoughts race so fast i become immobile, but i am not ashamed. there is no rhyme or reason to why some days are better than others, but i am not ashamed.

i am only as wrong as i allow myself to be. when i find out that i have learned and internalised something harmful, i work to correct it and unlearn it. when i find myself cracking under the invisible weight, i steady myself however i can. i have learned damage control. i rip up paper instead of punching walls. i focus on my breath when i can. and when the panic sets in, i allow it space, recognise the sacredness of my emotional tempest. you are safe here, i will tell my fear.

because i owe it to the girl who was not safe. i owe it to the version of me who could not avoid bloodied knuckles. i owe it to the fuck ups and the mistakes i've made and the people i have lost due to them.

to be ashamed of what i am is to deny myself to beauty of my existence. i am mentally ill. i am divine. i am wired in a different way, my brain doesn't make connections the way that people society was built around's do, and i process my emotions in a way that works for me, because i have learned to survive on my own terms. faced with all the things i have faced, i have taken broken twigs and mud and shards of glass and clumps of grass and made a shelter to weather a storm. it is not a mansion. it is enough.

i will be mentally ill for the rest of my life. it is not a death sentence because i will not let it be one. it is my life. it is the way i live. it is my survival.

when i was a kid, i knew, deep in my gut, i was terminal. there was no way i could parse through the hand i was dealt and come out on the other side. the house would always win, and i didn't think i had it in me to gamble.

i am still alive. my heart hurts from how much it loves and how much it feels. gods, i am so lucky to love and to feel. so many don't. so many ignore that call, press their feelings down into small containers and lock them away. i cry like there will be no other time to cry. i laugh with my full body. every breath is a gasp. i am alive, i am alive, i am alive.

i am alive, and i am not ashamed to be mentally ill.

#mental health #cee.txt #my writing #personal #this is okay to reblog if it resonates btw but #may is mental health awareness month and i needed to get this out #today was a Bad Brain Day. tomorrow might be better.#who knows. i am alive. it is okay.#mental health awareness month #i love you and if you ever need to talk i am here #being Emotionally Vulnerable On The Internet today lads

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the-fandom-qu33n · 10 months

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Chapter 6____To Strike A Match

(UF Sans/Reader)

Rated M...violence, profanity and much else soon to come

_____________

summary

___________

burnt out sick of the recurring timeline everything is starting to break him down little by little... day after day drink after drink he needed something different a smoke would be good... just needed a...light?

_______________________________________________

His skull ached... his vision clouded in sorrow..rage...annoyance and down right just tired of this bullshit.... his hope long gone ..faded away just as his bro's had...their lives have lost their DETERMINATION long when the kid left...wiping his eye sockets free from the burning tears he growled...why be here ..why does he keep coming back here?...if its HIS dreams its his control...maybe if he halted that ending...maybe if he stopped them from coming out of the underground here..this entire nightmare would stop and he would wake up...

gritting his teeth he began his decent down the cliff...no time to look at the things he knew hed never see...no he had a mission...it was time to shatter this illusion.

step after step ..it seemed even the land didn't want him approaching. Vines from the damned flowers began to weave in his bones ...the wind began to blow harshly...anything to slow him down...and he was having none of it.

with a raise of his hand he summoned the biggest blaster he could...the thing was so massive its jaw let out a thundering creak as the jaws opened ..with a harsh woosh the maw of the beast began to collect enegry...its jaw creaking as his rage increased making the magic double its strength...gripping his hand together hard enough that he was sure his fingers scratched his boney palm..a deep dent if anything into the bone...but he didn't care...all his hatred had built up in this one blaster..and he was gonna use it...

as the blaster continued to fuse energy with his burning hatred and magic..there they were...him and his so called friends and family ahead starting to emerge from the underground to receive their happy so called ending.....it started to make the ground shake...so much pure soul energy was building between the blasters jaw he was surprised the beast hadn't shattered by the tense power of his emotions at that moment alone.....so much anger...so much pain...the groaning sounded louder as it continued to fill its entire maw with the glowing orb...he recounted EVERY run from EVERY timeline he had been through..growling he screamed in pure rage as it fired...a blast so loud and powerful...a quick second shot and everything the blasts path was destroyed..trees disintegrated...Rocks dusted...monsters crushed and dusted..finished off in a millisecond ..red had watched it all...watched his blinding soul powered light blast destroy the entire terrain surrounding the mountain...the exit beyond destroyed... he chuckled darkly,,finally..

...finally he ended it he'd be free from it...they were free and soon he would be!...he had did it...now what would that brat do?!!!? NOTHING.

laughing he held his skull as he shook his eye lights burning a deep crimson as his magic began to seep like a heavy smoke down his face he felt so good...so weightless... Unstoppable

he could feel the power shift in his bones...looking around he gaged the damage...flecks of dust as shattered debree were scattered fro miles he assumed...a vast area now crumbled ..hed say even more damaged than even the ruins themselves!

...this was to good to be true!

'- TELL ME!"}

...someone was alive?...his laugh mid cut...his magic slowing to a simmer as he seemingly held in a breath his nonexistent lungs had..

no ...there was no way... his blast had destroyed everything...he was sure..at least he thought he was....snarling he set off up the cliff to see the commotion freezing up as he saw...that brat...that fucking brat how dare they come back and harass another monster after everything he had don-!...

wait...monster?...shaking his head he tried to calm down..

all the monsters would still be underground and long crushed and dusted from the cave in...how?...focusing more he noticed...a shadow of a monster...a smoke monster?...there wasn't anyone in the underground that was like that... but it surely wasn't human... growling at the display he shot into action teleporting behind the brat jamming a bone in its side...no matter...they were still HERE...in his space...HIS dream

taunting him and this monster...no he wouldn't stand for it...not anymore...snarling he threw the kid back into a tree impaling its neck into the stump in quick retaliation the brat chuckled ripping the bone out and jumping down to the ground spitting up an inky black as it laughed...

{there he is the man of the hour!"}

its voice gurgling as it choked on its own blood still seeming able to stand...fuck this demon freaked him out... backing up he glared at the kid...he wouldn't abandon this monster to this thing...not another dusting...he couldn't take it over this hellspawn of the surface...giggling it tilted its head as its throat spilled more black on the ground as it smiled....

{protective over this one are you?..tell me..who is she where did she come from...where did you monsters put her to keep hidden from me for 46 consecutive genocidal timelines!?"}

quickly its smile turned to a deep scowl of anger as it pointed at the monster behind him..how was he supposed to know..he never seen this monster before...gritting his teeth he stayed put guarding...just because he didn't know didn't mean this brat needed to know he didn't...he could bend the truth..maybe by the blessings of the runes themselves they would be useful but he severely doubted it..

still though he bit back his sigh ..here goes nothing...forcing his heavy frown into a grin he chuckled taking a long bone cracking shrug...

"this?...this here is our secret weapon against ya..."

the child gritting its teeth as it seem to back down ever so slightly...luckily for him that's all he needed...a break in its guard...grinning for real this time..in a flash of red from his now dilated eyelight he shot a sharded bone straight through its head with a sickening crunch as it broke through the humans skull...the child dropped immediately before its soul shattered...

as victorious as he felt and as tempted as he was to take the soul ...he knew not to grab for it...this was a dream state...he couldn't use its soul here...its useless...another taunt from his dream...it was a monsters instinct to go for the soul...for years it was etched into everyone's minds and souls...it was hard to fight it...but yet he did...he waited....waited for what seemed like to long...for the child to get back up...as if they were faking but..they didnt...after a little longer red dropped his guard..relaxing his stance as his bones creaked and popped from being locked into place for to long...turning his firey glance to the monster on the ground...a black shadowy whisp like monster...he definitely hadnt seen them before...hed have to keep a look out for a shadow figure...perhaps..near Mettaton...a steam monster maybe?...maybe Alphys knows.. he knows they weren't an experiment from the doc..he doubt even Asgore was clueless..maybe the lady behind the door had em...

reaching down to get a better look...he felt his soul relax and get warmer...why did he feel so at peace right now?...perhaps seeing the demon die was it...nodding to himself he froze as the monsters eyes opened staring back into him...their gaze was far off ...and as soon as his hand made contact with the monsters arm he awoke with a start jumping off his messy bed...looking around in alarm he looked for the monster...but no one was in his room but him making him sigh feeling his soul grow cold once more...just as he was readying his magic for a teleport he froze hearing his brother yell from downstairs.

"RED IF YOU DONT GET DOWN HERE IN 5 SECONDS FOR PATROL I'LL GO UP THERE AND DRAG YOU DOWN MYSELF...PAINFULY"

...guess he would have to go searching later...

"c-comin boss!"

__________________

if you took the time to read this i appreciate it...

#sans the skeleton #sans au #sans #fell sans x reader #fell #fellbros #fell sans #underfell fanfiction #undertale aus #underfell #sans underfell #UF grillby #daddy's got a gun/baby better run #possible smut #sans x reader #sans x y/n

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whitchygaythem · 2 years

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The Accident (Ch.4)

(Guys this has vore in it. And bad language)

It was a quiet cool day, perfect for staying inside with a blanket. So of course, Sola's perfect opportunity to spend time with Khione was ruined. By what? Sola wasn't quite sure. She did know that it was some kind of hunger. One part of her wanted to snatch Khione right off her shoulder and swallow her down right there, while the other part of her didn't want to violate the trust they had built over the months. The result was a pain in Sola's gut, longing for Khione and getting worse every day. Sola pinched herself. (Not now.. It's been so nice lately) Khione was laying against Sola's neck, while excitedly gushing about the botany journal Sola was holding for her.

"This!" Khione ranted while pointing at the dark blue flower "Is Polycampum Hallcinthis, a flower that only grows in the Night Lands." Sola marveled at her wife's knowledge of plants. She could barely tell the difference between a berry and a fruit. "It looks so pretty, Khi-khi. Like some of those fancy edible flowers they put on food." Sola remarked. Khione laughed "It's poisonous Sola, if you ate it, you would puke". "Oh… it still looks good enough to eat though" Khione laughed again and Sola felt her heart skip. She flipped over, knocking Khione off her shoulder and onto the pillow with a yelp. "Hey! What was that for?" Khione grinned. Sola smirked and crooned playfully "I wanted to play~" as she began peppering Khione with kisses. Khione shrieked with laughter. "STOP, ST-OP" (Mmmm, ske tastes like berries). Without thinking Sola's tongue slipped out and tasted Khione's torso. " Hey, Sola, don't do that," Khione said nervously, pushing Sola's face away. (I need more,) Khione's worried voice sounded farther away (I need her.) She pinned Khione down with one hand and opened her mouth wide.

Khione shrieked and writhed to get away but Sola had pinned her. "NO, NONONO STOP STOP!" Khione screamed as Sola lifted her into her hungry maw. She was going to die, and the one killing her was the only person outside of her family Khione had loved. She caught a glimpse of Sola’s animalistic gaze as her upper body was stuffed unceremoniously into Sola's mouth.

It was wet, and all too hot. Khione yelled as she was thrown side to side inside Sola's mouth. She tried to hit something, anything so that Sola might let her go. Instead, Sola took her first swallow, sucking Khione's shoulders into her throat.

"SHIT- NO NO LET ME OUT SOLA" Sola didn’t listen and kept swallowing. Khione thrashed her tail but Sola just swallowed again, seemingly more determined to get her down than before. Khione’s head rapidly slid down Sola’s esophagus, until she fell into her stomach.

“NO, NO DAMN YOU LET ME OUT!” Khione screamed until she heard a panicked voice all around her. “OH SHIT, OH NO”

It felt like Sola had just woken up. She rubbed her head and looked around. Where was Khione? The taste berries on her tongue, the sudden yelling in her head and her shifting, distended stomach gave her her answer. “OH SHIT, OH NO- KHIONE?!” She poked at her stomach. “Can you hear me? Are you alright?” Sola winced as Khione’s enraged voice sounded in her brain.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! OF COURSE IM NOT OK, YOU FUCKING ATE ME, LET ME OUT NOW!” “I don’t know how!” Sola was panicking now. She had always swallowed someone else, she never had to bring them back up. “Try punching me!” Sola felt Khione shift, and felt a small pressure in her stomach. “Shit that didn’t work- hold on!” Sola pressed her fist into her stomach, trying to vomit but Khione yelled out in pain. Sola stood there, mind racing. (How am I going to get her out? Do I want her to get out? Of course I do. Wait.) She grabbed the flower book and ran to the royal nurse.

Khione was tossed around as Sola ran, and tears fell from her face as she was unable to do anything. (I’d think I’d be feeling some pain by now..) suddenly Sola stopped and Khione was flung forwards. She was unable to make out anything about the conversation. Soon after, the stomach filled with a dark blue liquid, and Khione was heaved upwards as Sola vomited her up and Khione was blinded by the bright lights. As she opened her eyes again, she saw Sola’s worried face looming over her.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Khione yelled as she scrambled away from Sola. Sola jumped back, looking ashamed. “Are- are you ok?” Sola asked hurriedly.

“Maybe I am, but why would you care? Trying to figure out if you need to finish me off?” Khione asked coldly.

Sola stuttered “Gods no! I-i-i wouldn’t! I don’t want to hurt you!” Sola reached out towards Khione. Khione was even more angry now. (So much touching, always with the touching!)

She slapped Sola's hand away“You ate me! How did you not try to hurt me!? Stop trying to lie! I bet the only reason I wasn't dead immediately was because you wanted to torture me or something!”

Sola looked anxious. “No, No! I didn’t mean to! I didn't want to eat you, I just wanted you as close as possible!” With those words, a glowing string burst from Sola’s chest and connected to Khione’s. Then she knew.

The nurse turned around the corner and gasped quietly, but turned on her heel and hurried away quickly. Sola looked surprised as well, as her eyes widened at the connection between her and Khione. “You-you’re you can't my Bond..” Khione whispered. She couldn’t leave now. Things were going to get very bad, very soon.

#g/t vore #soft vore #vore oc #dragon pred #f/f vore #lesbian vore #female pred #unwilling prey #semi willing pred #safe vore #whitchythey writes

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oumaheroes · 3 years

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Earthbound: Gabriel’s Story

Written for @needcake, whose wonderful and ongoing encouragement has spurred me to explore new directions.

Context: Hundreds of years after the fall of Earth, mankind is slowly starting to return. Some people have a stronger urge to return than others, confused by fragments of memories from a life already lived.

Word Count: 3570

Characters: Portugal

Arthur’s story can be found here.

Matthew’s story can be found here.

---

Gabriel is six. He’s at the doctor’s, which he doesn’t think that he deserves, and to protest this offense he does not answer when he is spoken to.

‘Gabriel? Can you answer some questions for me?’

The lady doctor looks nice enough; she doesn’t look scary but that’s not the point and Gabriel presses his lips together and picks up a plastic shape. It’s solid and brightly coloured and he has some like this at home. He likes to build with them, usually, when he can get them from the other kids for long enough, and on the rare occasions he’s left alone with them undisturbed he builds high high towers and pretends they’re castles.

He turns this one, red and smooth, over in his hands and lays it on the small plastic table he is knelt in front of with finality. It will be a part of a dungeon.

‘He’s always like this,’ His foster mummy Anita speaks from behind him, over his head, ‘he has these funny moods where he won’t speak at all, and then when he’s not eating it just gets worse. Never had a kid like him.’

Gabriel feels his presence swallowed softly underneath her words as the conversation passes over and around him as if he were not there. He picks up another shape. This one is round at the edges and is blue. It can go at the top.

The Doctor gently taps the table by his elbow. He turns to find her crouched next to him; eyes slightly too wide behind large glasses. She smiles, ‘What are you building?’

He shrugs.

‘Ah,’ She ponders the beginnings of his construction with interest, ‘Well, the biggest I’ve seen someone build with these is about this big,’ she gestures with her hands to her chest and Gabriel is forced to look at her.

That is quite high.

‘I can go bigger.’

The doctor raises an eyebrow sceptically, ‘I don’t know,’ she says, ‘the girl who built it didn’t have to go home for dinner.’

‘I don’t have to go home for dinner,’ Gabriel retorts, immediately. Mummy Anita scoffs and Gabriel flushes, looking away.

‘Do you not like dinner?’ the doctor prompts, softly.

Gabriel shrugs again.

‘I don’t like Option 3,’ the doctor says. She reaches under the table and picks up another shape -yellow, a triangle- and puts it near him. Might be a good turret ceiling, if they leave him alone to build high enough, ‘that’s what I hate. But my favourite is Option 17.’

‘I don’t like any of them.’

‘No? You must like one of them, there are so many!’

Gabriel shakes his head and continues to stack shapes, ‘they all taste funny.’

‘Funny?’ the doctor glances at Mummy Anita who shrugs.

‘None of the other kids say that. We’ve had the machine checked out- I eat from it. It’s fine. Even tried him on other machines but he says they all taste funny.’

The doctor looks back at him and he tries to look unbothered by their discussion, ‘Why do you think food from meal machines tastes funny? What’s strange about the food?’

It’s an easy enough question, but one that Gabriel can’t really answer- not even to himself.

The best way he can describe it is that food from machines just tastes wrong.

All meals come from food machines. They’re in every home and school and all taste the same; a catalogue copy of meals for everyone to have. But there’s a dryness to everything, something that sticks bland and metallic in his mouth and no matter which out of the many hundreds of options he tries, Gabriel hates them all. There’s something wrong about them, he thinks, something unnatural that he never wants to taste, no matter how used to it he knows he should be. Food from machines is all he’s ever eaten.

They don’t grow things on his colony; vegetables or fruits or grain. There’s no room in the towering stacks of buildings, stretching into the dusty orange sky. The colony is a jumble of things, a jungle bleached colourless and lifeless despite the scattering of people that scrabbled through its warrens.

There is no room for fields here. No farms for cattle to roam. The machines feed them: food materialised from the collective memory of humanity. Gabriel has heard in the playground at school that other human colonies, the ones further off into space where their communications cannot reach, make their own food from scratch, like the people of the olden times of Earth. This seems bizarre to him. What difference would it make, if you made a meal from things instead of a machine? All of their neighbouring colonies do the same as they do and this is all anyone of them have ever known.

Either way, the taste is lifeless and empty so Gabriel avoids eating as much as possible, giving in only when his tummy hurts with an ache that needs to be filled with something, anything, before it will think of going away.

He doesn’t know how to put this into words, so he turns away and adds another block to his tower, hoping that the adults will leave him alone. The doctor on his side sighs and taps something into her e-tab, looking back over at Mummy Anita.

The conversation begins again, over his head, and Gabriel slips away.

When Gabriel is thirteen when he realises that something about him isn’t quite right. It’s not his problem with food, although that has never improved, things taste as stilted now as they ever have done. No matter what meal option he tries, and no matter from which machine, there is the same blandness to everything, a cotton covering that prevents him from tasting what everyone else says he should.

But lack of taste is the least of his concerns.

The word most used to describe him by adults is ‘unfocused.’

This isn’t something he thinks is fair, but he understands how they think that, he supposes. He can often be found staring out of a window or escaping off into space, eyes glassy and face slack. He doesn’t agree with the term ‘unfocused’ because Gabriel is very focused on doing just that.

Escaping.

It is easy. So very, very easy. Like a quick breath in, he can switch off today effortlessly and take himself away somewhere, mind’s eye overlaying reality to wash his surrounds bright and true and better. He can take himself to a place so perfect it can only exist in his mind- soft sandy beaches in front of scrubby mountainsides that soar and roll up and down in sharp curves, all under a sky so blue it burns. Cyan rivers wend down corridors and curl around the legs of his classmates, a cliff face leans out of the drop of a window, a dark cupboard hides the maw of the unknown- damp caves that drip drip drip with depth and cool his older, sun-burnt skin.

If he closes his eyes and truly does focus, he can go even further- bite down and taste Brazilian gold, hard and cold as it hits his teeth to send shivers of warning up his spine. A dropped pencil or a creak of a floorboard snaps into the crackle of a fire, hot and close and his mouth waters with the promise of flame kissed meat and the smell of woodsmoke.

As much as he enjoys this, he realises it is a problem because it is not something that anyone else does. Not anymore, at least, and never as well. Children used to play pretend, of course, when they were younger- it was normal. Gabriel always seemed to be the best at it, somehow, better able to call to mind a place for their games with a vivacity no one else could hope to compare to and it was fun- something he excelled in. He made all of their games, a playmaker in setting the stage and lifting another world to blanket the dusty playground and wrap them all in colours.

But his friends have grown out of such things. Their thirst for the imaginary cooled and then tapered off entirely whilst Gabriel’s hunger for it only grew and grew until he could travel miles in the blink of an eye, drumming fingers playing a marching song to set the pace and propel him onwards.

Why be here when he can be elsewhere? Why would he ever choose otherwise, when elsewhere was a paradise unlike any other. Any colour, any texture, any smell or taste, and all blended and whirled together to spill a storm of yearning through his waking days.

Maybe he could write, he thinks. He is sixteen and thinks that, maybe this is why he does this. Maybe this is something that is normal after all, if he can put what he is feeling to paper and share it with others. If it is productive, it is good, after all. If it creates something tangible, if it is something that others can use and enjoy then it is something worthy; it has value. When it is just for him, it is strange; adults watching with dark and wary eyes, muttering condemnations that shackle him with labels.

It is the way of things.

But writing is harder than it looks. Words only describe so much and are too flat, too rigid to encompass the entirety of what he feels and sees. On paper, the world of his daydreams regresses to shapes like the coloured blocks he used to love as a child- useful for building something, yes, but ultimately something controlled and solid, changeable but unmoving and limited. Gabriel’s imagination isn’t like this, it is constantly new and fluid, forever showing him more and more and more with a detail words can never capture, never truly express.

He dreams of orchards, of fruit so orange and full and clear to him that he can see the speckles of dust in the dips of its skin, the dew that sits on the leaves in the morning. He feels himself, brown, large hand scarred with mistakes and history, close about it and pull; feels the tension as it resists on the branch before a gasp of a break. The leaves of the tree swing back and the fruit is full and firm and he can taste it, taste how full it will be when he peels back the skin and bites down to flood his mouth with sweetness.

He feels air that is cool and tastes of salt, wind that pushes and tugs at his clothes, of a floor of wood that moves and bucks in angry waters of grey and blue. Unknown jungles where the air is thick and hot, arid plains where the sun scorches the rocks, and damp misty hills that whistle ancient secrets across the miles and twist his heart until it breaks.

What is that.

Why is that.

He doesn’t know.

When Gabriel is eighteen, the foster home he is in releases him.

‘You can stay, if you want,’ Anita gives him a measured look, up and down, from beneath her eyelashes, ‘but you’ll need to start paying rent. Benefits stop for you now so I can’t keep you about for free.’

Gabriel blinks at her, ‘But, I don’t have a job.’

Anita’s face remains impassive, ‘Then you’ll have to find one.’

‘How?’ he is angry, all of a sudden. Older children had never stuck about after their eighteenth birthday but he always imagined that they had left of their own accord, that they couldn’t wait to leave. Now he wonders how many of them were forced out, where they went, ‘I’ve never had one before.’

‘Your school should do something about helping you find one. Or, here,’ she reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out her e-tab. The paint of the old thing is chipped but it still works; the screen flashes bright and the contrast with the dark office room washes her face flat and white in the glow. After a moment, she holds out the tab to him, ‘there are some programmes about. Take a look at them and sign up to some.’

Gabriel doesn’t take it and her arm hangs there, suspended and stiff between them. Eventually, she sets down the tab and pushes it towards him, ‘I’ll give you two months, if you want to stay. You should be able to find something in that time.’

‘What do I do if I can’t find anything?’ there is a tightness in his chest. He does not like it here, does not really even like her but the taste of betrayal is thick on his tongue and catches in the back of his throat to prick at his lungs, ‘what do I do? This isn’t fair.’

Anita looks at him, hard and cold, ‘Life isn’t fair. The quicker you learn that, the better off you’ll be.’ With that she motions with her head towards the door behind him and tabs on her computer, bringing it back to life.

The conversation is over.

Gabriel clenches his jaw, spins about and opens the door. The e-tab he leaves on her desk.

He moves his way through the house and out to the street. Night has fallen and the glow from their fat, orange sun hangs warm and faded behind the horizon. It looks like a painting; abstract- not real. The cut of the skyline is wrong, too sharp and small and alien all at once and he hurts with the urge to close his eyes and drift away on the tide of his dreams to somewhere better.

He can’t. He needs to do something, needs to go somewhere, needs to eat. Food machines are everywhere, but they cost money that he doesn’t have and the fear of hunger for the tasteless pushes him into the tangle of streets.

Gabriel is twenty-two. He found a job, eventually. It was the spur of the moment, out of desperation, but it’s not all that bad, in the end. He is a builder.

The monotony of manual work allows him to loosen his mind, lift himself out of his body as he lays dun-coloured bricks down in careful order, one by one by one. He builds a home under his hands but his mind is away, far far into grasses so tall they tickle his cheeks and he reconstructs himself into a reality he can control.

This brick can be the dungeon. This brick can be a turret. Gabriel can be elsewhere.

This is enough. It is enough, he tells himself. It is more than enough; if he gets better, he can actually do that, actually build the castles of his dreams. Maybe he could be an artist, or an architect, maybe he can design a whole new colony that has fancy machines to replicate wind or bodies of water to recreate a sea deep and blue enough to have come straight from the Earth itself.

When he thinks about this too deeply, it hurts.

The ancient planet sings to him from the files of history, a stunning colourful thing that hangs suspended in time. Oh, what he would give to be there. To see the oceans and feel the grasses of fields that are somehow so very green. What he would give for the possibility see it, just once. Any part of it.

The pictures he’s seen, the videos and the stories that are collected into binary are the only things left of humanity’s original home- something so colourful and incredible that it is hauntingly impossible. Gabriel’s dreams must be modelled on it, he knows, they must have a grain of truth in them because only his imagination can compare to the flat, coded remains of Earth. Nothing man-made can be so beautiful, nothing built by mortal hands produce such unkempt beauty.

Gabriel feels like he was born in the wrong time, made and moulded to explore something older and wilder where he can go and go and go and always see something new, unending and natural. This lost opportunity, this missed moment and incorrect assignment whips a storm in his heart and brings tears to his eyes but passes, eventually. He is not a man for regret, not a man to dwell on what he cannot have and he consoles himself with the idea that maybe, one day, he can help to build a new world that rivals the one in his dreams.

When Gabriel is twenty-four, one of the human colonies fails. As the colony collapses, life systems screaming into the vacuum, the population spills into the sky, desperate to get away however they can. As one of their closest neighbours, despite the distance, Gabriel’s planet catches a lot of them.

They arrive in huge patchwork ships- cobbled together with speed, not precision. They’re falling apart and can barely cling on and the people they contain are scared, panicked things; exhausted by the constant and very near threat of death they press beseechingly into their new home. His planet is full, really, too full to take on so many but they have nowhere else to go, no place else to stop and so they flock into streets and public buildings, cawing for food and water and housing.

As a builder, Gabriel is in high demand and is immediately put to work. Hastily constructed houses spring up, growing the towns outwards and into the desert. There are no domes here- Gabriel’s planet can sustain itself and for the new arrivals this is bewildering.

Gabriel begins to talk to one of them. She is old, feather light skin wrinkled and soft, and she flutters like a bird about the building site, eager to offer help in any way she can. It’s sweet and Gabriel softens to her instantly, sensing she feels a displacement similar to what he does. A kinship of the unbelonging.

Every afternoon she arrives and as soon as his shift ends, he lowers himself to the ground and goes in search of her. They take tea together in the shade and talk existence to rights.

‘You remind me of my grandson,’ she says one day. Gabriel avoids talking about her planet or her family, or anything to do with what brought her here. He does not know what parts of it will cause her pain and he has no wish to do that to her. She must feel enough when she is alone, he knows, when she has time to mourn what she has lost and it is not his place to bring that sadness to other aspects of her day. She never offers anything and so the subject lies between them, an elephant in the void of space.

When she says this, then, he is surprised and curious, ‘Oh? How so?’

She smiles, ‘He’s a dreamer too. Always thinking of things when he should be focusing. He makes a similar face to the one you do.’

Gabriel blushes, ashamed to have been caught drifting off whilst in her company.

She sees his embarrassment and laughs, ‘Oh no, don’t worry- it’s fine. I used to love watching him float away somewhere. I used to say he was going off to Neverland.’

‘That’s a nice description for it,’ it’s an old Earthen story Gabriel was fond of growing up- a tale of a journey to somewhere else, ‘What was his name?’

‘Is,’ she corrects firmly and Gabriel nods apologetically, ‘Is. His name is Peter.’

‘Peter,’ the name fits a fellow daydreamer. The boy who never grew up. Gabriel decides to ask, tentatively, ‘Where is he?’

The old lady looks wistful, ‘Earth,’ she says with a sigh, ‘He and his parents managed to get passage to Earth but I wasn’t able to. We’re too far out to send any communication- I don’t want to think about what they believe became of me.’

Gabriel blinks once. Twice. Tries to speak, ‘Earth?’

She frowns at him, ‘Yes, don’t you know?’ Realisation hits and she shakes her head, ‘Oh, I forget that you don’t hear much this far out. Earth was declared habitable a few months ago. They’re starting a founding colony there to see if humans can survive there again.’

‘Wh- what?’

She looks at him, concerned, ‘Are you alright? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

Gabriel can’t really understand her, her voice feels like its coming from one end of an endless tunnel and his heart is hammering too loudly in his chest to focus on her. He stands, shaky, and she clutches at his shirt hem, ‘Gabriel? Gabriel, what’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ his heart pounds canon fire, a boom boom boom that disorientates him. He smells smoke, smells fire, smells death, ‘I thought- I thought it was gone, Earth was gone.’

‘It was, but they travelled to investigate about a decade ago and they’ve been researching it- dear please sit down.’

She tugs at him but he shakes his head, a ghost of understanding in his mind that slips away like silk, ‘Can we go? Who can go- can I go?’

She looks scared, ‘Yes, but there’s a waiting list, you need to get your name down- Gabriel!’

---

He doesn’t wait for her to finish. He takes off into the centre of town to the public buildings, pushing his way through crowds to get there faster. He won’t waste one second more, will grab hold of what acutely feels like a delicate second chance with both hands and won't dare to let go.

AN:

This was my first time writing Portugal as a character with a voice and it was both challenging and very fun to do. There are so many amazing Portugal writers out there to inspire me and I hope I have done him justice for any of you who read this!

The full fic can be found here on A03. It doesn’t include Portugal, but explores this AU a whole lot more with a different cast of characters.

Thanks for reading!

#aph portugal #hws portugal #hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #my writing

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compassion-of-a-lightner · 3 years

Text

I’ve never shared my writing like this before, but I figured since tumblr now hates links I might as well?

This is my fanfiction on Deltarune.

It’s centered around the scene in which Susie rushes into Noelle’s room during the Snowgrave route.

The first and last lines of the piece are what she says directly before and after exiting the room as it's meant to convey that short visit- with creative liberties on the time-scale obviously.

No content warnings

2,845 words

Romance | Hurt/comfort

Exists on Fanfiction dot net and Ao3, links available through my #my work tag, this is a mirror upload.

“Susie’s Ultimate Healing Technique”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself!” Susie growled as she whipped open the door and slammed it between them.

With a huff, she glared behind her before taking a deep breath to center herself.

‘Keep your cool. They can pay later, for whatever the hell their problem is.’

She glanced to her hand as a familiar sensation began to flood past her anger, “Fuck.” she muttered under her breath.

That door had been locked.

‘It’d hurt less to kick it to scrap.’ she grinned as she clenched her fist, looking up to the darkness around her. ‘But then I couldn’t slam it in their stupid faces, heh. Good riddance. Now if they don’t mind, I’ve got to be the hero this time around.’ she thought smugly.

The room lay dim; Most things blur into their surroundings unless you squint through the shade. While trying to discern if any of the shapes were Noelle, Susie felt another familiar sensation.

It was cold.

She exhaled and watched her breath disappear into the darkness before her.

Freezing.

Susie furrowed her brow, this didn’t make sense.

There was no one here. She expected to find the Queen’s minions surrounding Noelle or perhaps an elaborate cage trapping her, instead it was just another simple room.

As the thought left her she spotted exactly what she was looking for shifting just across the room.

In the center of the back wall sat a bed under a windowsill. Curtains drawn allowing the night sky to pour in and providing a means to see part of the room.

Sitting on the bed was a shivering pile of blankets, was it Noelle? Whoever it was sat bundled up, staring out the window.

Susie couldn’t help but smile as she took a step closer only to be interrupted by a quiet demand.

“Leave.” came a cold voice. It seemed to quake in their throat as it came, but it was more than enough to freeze Susie in her boots. It made her feel strange.

Her smile left, replaced with uncertainty and concern.

“I said LEAVE.” The voice shouted, straining itself as a piercing wind carried hail from the voice’s perch towards Susie.

Holding her arms up to shield herself from the sudden cold, Susie played off instinct. “Hey! What the hell!?” she shouted, pulling her axe out of the darkness and striking a menacing stance, “You cold bastard, where’s Noelle? Hand her over!” she snarled, showing her teeth at the opportunity to fight.

The wind billowed frantically before suddenly stopping in its tracks, hail falling to the ground with a shatter.

The figure didn’t move.

Susie stomped her foot as she took a step closer, “Do you HEAR me, asshole? Where is she?!”, her voice carried a threatening hiss.

Silence. A momentary stalemate.

The figure shifted. Susie could just barely make out that they were tightening the blankets around themselves. It was ignoring her. This pissed her off.

Her lips curled back to bare her full toothy maw once more as her patience ran thin.

Her eyes hinged on going fully rabid as she stared through the figure, “What’s wrong? Freeze your mouth shut with that attack?” She slammed the head of her axe into the ground before her and with a sinister snicker she continued, “You know what? I’m actually glad one of you assholes showed up to ambush me. I’ll show you what a real monster looks like in the dark!” she growled as the sound of snapping wood accompanied her axe being pulled out of the flooring.

She took another weighted step closer as she readied her axe for whatever their next attack would be, only to be frozen solid not by the figure’s magic but by the noise they began to hear.

She blunk, dumbfounded, before realization set in.

They were crying. They had always been crying.

Susie dropped her axe which quickly disappeared into the darkness below as she took another step forward, “Noelle?” she called to the figure, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment.

“I, uh, that wasn’t me yelling at you, I uh… So... ice magic, huh?” Susie tried to calm things down after her blunder.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, idiot, of course she knows magic here, we didn’t exactly knock now did we, of course this happens.’ Her mind raced.

“Susie?” Noelle asked, voice threatening to crack. She fumbled with the blankets and pulled her head out. Her face was drained of color, and her eyes looked tired, even still they widened in surprise when she managed to see her guest.

“You… You shouldn’t see me like this, after all that’s happened… Why are you here?” She was shaking. Something about the question and seeing her like this hurt Susie, it didn’t feel right.

“I’m here for you?” Susie spoke, unable to think as she walked closer and placed a hand on the bedpost. “Why wouldn’t I be? You need help, so uh, here I am. Right?”

‘Is that weird, I made it weird.’

“I mean, unless you don’t… I don’t really see anyone trying to come after you now that I mention it...” Susie was beginning to reconsider barging in.

Noelle furrowed her brow and stared harshly into the pillow beside Susie, deep in thought. “I think I see...” she said as she rubbed the tenderness of her eyes one by one.

The cold seemed to ease as Noelle relaxed ever so slightly out of her stressed headspace; As the room warmed, so did her complexion.

Susie fidgeted with the bedpost waiting on the pondering deer. “And? So are you coming along or?” she couldn’t help but sound concerned at Noelle’s tone.

Noelle didn’t seem to hear her question, instead closing her eyes and nodding hard as if to convince herself of the validity of her own thoughts. Susie raised an eyebrow in confusion as the silence pushed on a moment more.

Noelle opened her eyes with a new look of self-assurance as she confidently locked eyes with Susie.

She smiled, blushing with all the red her body could manage. Susie was mildly taken aback by this change.

“Uh… is something on my face?” Susie asked, a touch embarrassed all of a sudden.

And then, all at once, Noelle grabbed Susie’s hand off the bedpost, pursed her lips, and pulled her as hard as she could towards her.

Noelle clenched her eyes shut in excitement while Susie’s own went hide as she toppled over the side of the bed...

And directly into a painful headbutt as Susie flailed at the surprise attack.

Susie yelped in surprise, frantically rubbing at her nose and blinking away the sting.

“What the hell was that!” Susie yelled, baring her claws as she shouted all while kicking herself back up and out of the bed. Her eyes were watering from the impact which prompted her returning to rubbing her snout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, I thought it wouldn’t, I thought I would-” Noelle was flustered beyond reason and struggling to collect herself, all while a red mark began to become clear on her forehead.

Susie noticed and quickly pulled her hands from her still sore nose and into her pockets to hide how much that hurt, “It’s fine… just what were you trying to do.” She couldn’t help but stare, “That’s gonna leave a mark you know?”

Noelle stiffened up when she realized she was being stared at and slowly reached a hand up to her forehead before reeling back at the immediate soreness of it, “Ow.” she winced. “That’s not supposed to hurt…”

“How would headbutting someone not hurt?” Susie asked, squinting at her.

“I mean, this is all a dream, it’s not supposed to hurt!” Noelle explained like it was the most obvious thing to her.

“I mean it’s the only way you’d come to rescue me, it’s the only thing that explains this whole weird world… it’s the only thing that explains away…” Noelle frantically explained before cutting herself off, she turned towards the window as she struggled to finish what she sought to say.

Susie looked out the window alongside her. Something seemed wrong. Really wrong. And the fear in her eyes before she turned away stuck in Susie’s mind.

‘I… what do I say?... Maybe.’ Susie begged to understand.

“So… you realized it was a dream and thought you would attack me?” Susie interrupted the newfound silence, still struggling to grasp the fear she’d just caught a glimpse of.

Noelle blushed, “Well, no, I mean, usually when I dream of you it’d go… differently.” her voice became barely a whisper towards the end.

‘She liked that distraction, maybe it’s best she thinks it’s a dre- WAIT WHAT’ Susie blunk again and again as the cogs turned through every doubt she had built up inside. She nervously cleared her throat.

“You… tried to KISS me?!” she shouted in exasperation as she replayed the attempt over and over in her head.

Noelle tossed the blanket back over her head, “SHUT UP. THIS DREAM JUST ISN’T GOING RIGHT IS ALL.”

“You have to tell me, do you usually kiss me? Do you dream of me often? What’s it like?” Susie excitedly asked for details and quickly felt embarrassed as she heard what she was saying.

“No I don’t usually kiss you, are you kidding! But I thought, maybe, I’d try something special this time, to make up for all of this.” Noelle managed from under the blanket.

‘What the hell happened here...’ Susie worried with a sigh. Grabbing the edge of the blanket and softly pulling it off of her, she asked, “So, do you really think the real Susie wouldn’t come for you?”

Noelle gave a pitiful laugh, “You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t. I’m invisible to her. And how do I change that? I’m too scared to try.”

Susie gave a knowing look, “Ah. I see. She, I mean, I scare you.”

Noelle jolted up, “No! I mean, yes, but you’re a good kind of scary. I... like that about you.”

Susie rubbed the back of her head with a mix of disappointment and relief, “I... think I’m flattered?”

“Heh! If only the real Susie felt that way…” Noelle sadly chimed in.

She let out a sigh, and climbed out of bed. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Susie cocked her head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is all a dream.” She took a deep breath, “That means none of this happened, that’s good. That’s good.” Everything felt a little colder all of a sudden. “But I wanted to make it better. To make something special happen. Something I’d like to remember when I wake up, something to help forget the rest and…” Noelle rubbed her forehead, “That didn’t work.”

She idly kicked her legs off the side of the bed, swaying them forward and back as she stared into the seemingly endless darkness of the floor below, “I think I just tried to push things too fast, even if just in my head... it wasn’t going to work out.”

Susie looked away, “I mean, it’s still your dream. Why not try again?”

Noelle let out a soft giggle before admitting, “Honestly? I’m petrified!” she said rather happily, “I couldn’t possibly!”

“Strange thing to be happy about.” Susie muttered, her disappointment peeking through.

“I mean I want to, but it’s just… it feels nice to be scared of something good for a change.” She more quietly explained.

Susie scratched at her cheek in thought.

“I just… wish this wasn’t so much of a nightmare. That I didn’t leave with so much regret and…so hurt.” Another cold breeze. Susie eyed the window as the pane frosted over.

“I wish more of this dream was like this… good. And with you.” She admitted, a warmth to her sincerity. Susie closed her eyes in thought.

“Noelle?” she offered, causing Noelle to perk up out of curiosity. “Would you tell me what happened tonight if I asked?”

Noelle immediately turned away, Susie following suit, sighing as she idly paced along with her thoughts. “I see.” Susie said, an understanding behind her words as she thought to herself for a moment.

“You’re just a dream.” Noelle said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to hurt. It doesn’t mean I couldn’t care.” Susie said just as quietly, a bit hurt.

Quiet. Tense, stiff, quiet.

“Maybe.” Noelle whispered. “But…”

“But not now.” Susie finished, prompting Noelle to nod in agreement.

“Maybe.. Maybe I’ll show up in another dream. If that would be better.” Susie continued.

Again, she nodded.

It fell quiet again, but it felt less tense now, if only just.

Susie took a breath. “I’ll make sure you wake up soon.” she said as confidently as she could manage. “I'll take down the Queen and get you out of this dream. You just stay here and rest, okay?” Susie placed her hand on the door and awaited a response.

Noelle locked eyes with her and tried to offer a sincere smile, but the both of them could see straight through it.

Susie took a step closer, and unable to break eye contact, so did Noelle. Once more, and again, until there were no steps to be taken. Susie silently embraced the smaller deer, and held her as tightly as she could manage. She tried to think of something to say, but all that came was the need to show she cared. That it would be okay.

Noelle stiffened at her touch at first, momentarily unsure if this was real or not.

After a moment of accepting Susie’s warmth, she decided that she didn’t care if this was real at the moment.

She murmured quietly into Susie’s arm, “Thank you.” before burying her face into Susie’s chest and squeezing her back as tightly as her shaken body could.

Susie began to idly stroke Noelle’s hair as question after question bombarded her mind. All of them left unanswered as she couldn’t focus on any of them with someone this important in her grasp.

‘Can’t this be real?’ ‘Will she even remember this?’ ‘She likes me?’ ‘Me…?’ ‘She seems so hurt.’ ‘What hurt her?’ ‘I will hurt them.’ ‘It’s going to be okay.’ ‘I’ll make it okay.’ ‘I want to… if there’s anything I can do.’

Before the moment could allow her a moment to think on any of these, she had just one concern playing loudly in her mind.

Noelle began to cry. Buried into her, with shaky breaths, she was crying. Just like when Susie first arrived.

Susie opened her mouth but no words came, again and again, nothing escaped. Uncertain of what to do and glaring into the dark, she did all that was left. She hugged with all her might and let her own tears fall where they may.

They stood like that, as two tearful, caring souls allowing themselves to feel.

Until the tears simply ran out.

Noelle hiccuped into her, causing Susie to give her a light squeeze, and things fell much more quiet.

As the moment hung on its edge Susie took to softly tracing lines along Noelle’s back. Jagged rows, small circles, occasionally a heart which she hoped Noelle didn’t mention.

Her friends were waiting. So was the Queen, the fountain, and a whole world, all waiting on this moment to draw to an end. And Susie decided they could all wait as long as it took.

“Noelle?” Susie whispered as she pushed through her now cracked voice. She ran her hand softly down her back and listened as intently as she could but there was no response beyond her quiet breathing.

She let out a hum as she traced her back once more and got her response as the smaller girl’s arm slowly slid off and to the side.

She had fallen asleep; The day had worn her down and letting it all out had drained the last of her strength. She was out of it, no longer standing at all as she was being held aloft by Susie alone.

Something inside Susie felt at peace knowing this, as she picked the sleeping deer up in her arms and began carrying her to the bed.

Gently, she laid her down and carefully laid the crumpled blanket from the floor over top of her.

Susie looked at her face and saw Noelle the tiredest she’d ever seen her. But she also saw a small, unmistakable smile that told her she’d done well.

“It was just a dream.” she whispered, half hurt that it had to be. “But it mattered to me.” she said with a nod before turning to the door.

She placed a hand on the door, took one last look at the sleeping figure behind her, then took a deep breath to confront her friends.

Remembering herself, she quickly reached up and rubbed her face frantically to hide any sign of what happened, and with all the false vigor she could manage she swung open the door.

“Alright let’s go!”

#Deltarune #Susie deltarune #Noelle deltarune #Noelle Holiday #My posts #My work

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vorish-egos · 4 years

Note

Do you have anything for a tiny Reader having a nightmare and Chase swallowing them down for a goodnight sleep?

This is a old ask, by now but I hope you are still up there anon and that you will like it! Also don't be afraid to nitpick any mistakes, erros! I am not a native english-speaker, but still I want to make sure, that whatever I have written is understandable for all of you!

=====

The tall shadows, bigger than the ancient oaks, jumped over your fears merrily. They shaped their facial expressions in a disgusting but natural way. They were built by black mash mixed with smog. No eyes, ears or other elements, still allowed you to watch their grimaces. You were trying to escape the traps they set to you. Phobias, mistakes biting the subconscious from the past, the present, memories worth forgetting. You've been stumbling over them, looking for a way out of that sick funfair.

You were shouting pleas and lamenting in desperation, waiting for the end.

But you didn't think that your prayers would reach beyond the limits you knew.

- Hey, little duder... Wake up...! Please... wake up...

A voice so strong, though gentle, vibrated around, immediately scaring these monsters.

Left to the pasture of fate, you hung in an emptiness devoid of darkness, light, bottom, beginning, anything. This space made no sense, despite gaining control over what was around you, you did not want to be here. You had to, you wanted to go back to him.

You were thrown ashore which was the real world. You were taking in hurry a swigs of air, afraid to return to the surface of the water where nightmares were hiding. Your eyelids expanded too much, however your eyes had nothing before them, except fear.

- Shhhh, shhhh... it's okey...~ I am here... ~ Breath in... and breath out...~

The whisper resounded again, lightly shaking your tiny form. You couldn't resist the calm tone, repeating every said action. Verbal help was not enough for a savior though. You heard the rustling of the duvet, you felt the changes on your pillow. Soon afterwards, the heat spread from the legs, the torso, to the head. Hands intuitively caught the source of pleasant temperature. The fingertips caught the smooth, hard skin. A large, yet soft object pressed you delicately, with a sluggish speed, moving along your spine. Your soul filled with peace and your gaze gained a lost ability.

The moon's glow slid from between the curtains, illuminating practically the entire room. Melancholic colours were replaced by a beautiful white and blue glow. Framed pictures of the two kids laughing, they almost shone as if the universe knew who they were important to.

You could still see yellow-green down, pale skin, lush beard worthy of vikings, despite that the giant was turned back to light. Not to mention the grey-blue irises from which paternal love emitted. A subtle, albeit sincere smile welcomed on your face. Chase saved you, again. You squeezed the back of nose with legs and hands, clearly hugging it. The tip of your head leaned perfectly against the gap between his eyebrows. A colossal friend laughed soundlessly, for your lovely, moreover comical position.

You were lying close to each other in blissful silence, only interrupted by the work of your lungs, which, in spite of their different sizes, worked in harmony. You were relaxing, but in an inadequate way to that hour . Mentally you were well, but you missed something. It was a shelter.

Sure of your idea, you disconnected yourself from a sniffer, crawling towards the lower part of face. The air coming out of his nostrils, slightly warmed your silhouette. Approaching the loosely opened mouth, the temperature coming out of those depths, stirred your thoughts. The nice, soothing heat existed for a small moment, disappeared and made you want it to last longer. You stretched out your hand and stroke cracked lips. You asked for permission to enter your personal safe hiding place. The gesture was also a payment for a calming massage. Brody murmured deeply, at butterfly touch of your hands. He needed a moment since his consciousness began to balance between reality and fantasy. He soon understood what you wanted to achieve. The tips lifted into a friendly grimace, not long enough to have a pink cave in front of you. The very sight of a known mouth caused pure happiness.

The thick tongue lazily slid out from behind the small hole, acting like stairs that led you to a safe oasis. You didn't need any encouragement, you quickly crawled through the crack, thus keeping an eye on fangs. The weight of your body was powerlessly pressing down on a living sponge, microscopic hollows were forming around your hands. The exhaled air covered you with a sultry blanket.

The behaviour of maw, perfectly described the sleepiness of a blue-eyed man. Occasional jumps of the clapper, a motionless uvula, which the round tip pointed to a pulsating abyss.

The yawning has increasingly left your lips. Just lying down on this plump mattress was a relief. Predator sensed how your muscles were getting rid of their stiffness. The taste organ subtly shifted you to the edge of throat. You leaned slightly over the precipice, so even if it was semi-dark, you could still see small movements of epiglottis. You didn't allow yourself for observations on long run, when with a gentle click, you were locked in complete darkness.

The purring coming from underneath, has shaken all the tissues in its path, including you. The giant was always happy when his little friend was protected by a guard of pearly blades.

You were preparing for the process of being greased with saliva, but Chase had other plans, he made you surprised and giggle at the same time. Naturally, the tongue picked you up, but it didn't rub against hard palate. It also made sure you didn't fall into the molars. All you had to do was wait for the big guy to finish his job.

Patience finally paid off.

The yellow-haired man slowly rolled over on his back. Gravity was forced to change the laws under his actions, thus you started the journey to the pharynx by yourself. With one decent swallow, Chase took you into his esophagus. A fulfilled exhalation left an empty oral cavity. He moved shoulders sideways, adjusting himself on the bed. He gulped one last time to make sure his companion would get to the right location. He focused his attention on a small ball, lining the surface of gullet, which was your form, going deeper into the state of rest. He put his hand on a stomach ready to feel you fall into it. Fatigue unfortunately turned out to be stronger than his will.

The digestive tract transported you in no hurry. Lungs were quietly pumping air, heart was playing a lazy concert for the rest of the organs and the little visitor. Conscientious oesophagus was rubbing you, removing some of the hidden stress. The rings of the muscles closed around you giving a gesture similar to a human hug. They also opened up, letting you go to the next sections of a very throbbing slide. The whole process was comparable to being closed in a warm cocoon. Your mind, under the influence of calm, kindness, has begun to return to the land of dreams, especially the colorful one. Mentally, you tried to refrain from listening and doing the temptation, although it was impossible to do so. Your eyelids gained weight, and you were tirelessly lifting them up. Your efforts were in vain, though, as you soon joined a giant roommate.

You didn't have to worry about anything. You were completely secure in the arms of another body. Not long before your snoring body was carried to a better bed. The organ built a nest out of its own pink walls that would always protect you from the nasty nightmares.

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blackicephantom · 3 years

Text

The black dragon and the coward CH. 12

Note: I know your all waiting for something different, but this needs to happen first. Trust me. Please tell me what you think, because i feel a little insecure about this one......

Please enjoy!

Tagged: @patolemus , @runestarchild

- . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . -

Somewhere in the ocean

A long, serpentine, figure swam slowly through the water, when it felt a certain kind of vibration. The fins on its head tried to locate the origin, but to no avail. Then something poked him at the back of his mind and he started to surface. The blue scales glimmered in the sunlight and the slim face rose skyward. Just a single moment and he heard the cry, the call to come home.

With a swift jump he dove back into the depths of the water, only to jump back out in a high arch and with his own melodious cry. His main fins spread wide and his tail finished his elegant form.

The Oceanblue Raindragon recognized and answered the call to arms. And in a show of power dark storm clouds started to form and seconds later heavy rain fell upon the earth and the sea.

Once his body was back in the water he took the course back home.

Colonello, the Oceanblue Raindragon, swam swiftly and as fast as he could. His family was waiting for him.

Deep in the mountains

Fon sat quietly near his den, when the wind started to pick up and dark clouds started to form. Electricity shot up his spine and he shuddered. He stood up and watched as all the birds stopped singing and the wind howled louder and louder. Red flames engulfed his form and scales replaced soft skin.

In one smooth movement he circled a few times around the mountain he dwelled in, so that his upper body and head are even with the mountain's peak. His mane and his whiskers danced in the wind and he knew. Just then a roar echoed thru his stoney valley and resonated with his own wish and desire.

He rose up, slightly above the mountain top and sang his own song to join that of his brothers. A rough and yet calm sound left his throat and the winds around him turned themselves into little hurricanes and storms, ready to cut down the land itself.

He knew that he said he would look for Kyoya but it seems that this will have to wait, just a little bit longer. As the last note of his cry faded away, he took to the sky and started in the direction of the forest he had left only days prior.

The Bloodred Stormdragon heard and heeded the call to arms.

Inside a secret lab

Beeping filled the dark room a lonesome and glasses wearing figure occupied. Many monitors showed him just as many sceneries and yet nothing changed. He’s been in this laboratory for years now, researching everything that came to mind, but mostly ways to protect his own, so that what happened on that fateful day would not repeat itself. And he’s been waiting. Waiting for that one moment…… Verde knew that his home underground was anything but optional, but he also knew Reborn….. and all the others…..

Suddenly almost all of his instruments measured impossible data. The displays went highwire and a few displays even broke down due to the sudden intensity. A smirk and a low chuckle escaped him. Of course this would happen shortly after he thought about it.

He stood up, ignoring all his different machines and displays and went to the small lift he built to make his way to the surface. On the ride up he thought about many things. Even about his fellow Arcobaleno….. which was more than unusual. But it has been a few years now. And just as Reborn has said: this years have felt like they went by in the blink of an eye for him.

Once he was back above the ground he took a deep breath and looked around.

Unlike what his instruments had shown him, the world was silent. And that could only mean one thing: he was not alone. But out of all the people that knew him, only two could really find him. The first one is the one to call them home and the other one the silent killer in their ranks.

He watched as mist slowly crawled along the ground, which confirmed his suspicion.

A small rustling reached his ears and he just stood still and quiet, once again waiting. Next came hissing and a long indigo coloured body, only seen in parts. The mist grew thicker with every passing moment and the long body started to draw steadily closer. Then there was someone behind him but he doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t need to.

“I see that you’ve found me, Viper.” A hissed laugh was his answer and just as the mist and the stillness had appeared, it vanished. Suddenly there were howling winds and pouring rain and, most importantly, the still sounding roar of their own kin.

Both Arcobaleno looked up into the slowly graying sky and knew it was time.

With the flash of a single lightning bolt a massive creature stood amidst the green. A long maw and strong legs were the most prominent features, closely followed by the sparking yellow spikes that run along it’s back and tail and its dark green scales. Lightning crashed into the trees and rushed through the clouds above while a thick misty blanket fell over the earth, obscuring the view of all that dared to look.

Around that massive body the other one curled in on himself, his body slowly growing and a pair of thin looking wings sprouting from his form.

And thus two more voices joined the almighty song of the weather.

A low and rumbling growl from the Forestgreen Lightningdragon and a deafening yet silent screech from the Indigoblue Mistdragon. Thous two also heard the call to arms and were ready to take back what was once stolen. Their answer resonated with the cries of their brothers and no sooner were they on their way. One digging his way home and the other silently sliding close behind him.

In a village on the other end of the continent

Chains rattled as another foolish human tried to get too close to him, his tails trashing behind him. It's been ages that he has seen the sky or breathed fresh air. These villagers only caught him by sheer luck and a great deal of misfortune on his part.

The long spikes along his back vibrated gently and he raised his head, ignoring the weapons that were pointed at him. The air was charged with something…..exciting. A familiar tension filling his core and making his heart pound. It was like the thrill right before a battle and he fucking missed this. He wanted to stretch his wings, follow the clouds he was born in but this stupid chains kept him grounded.

Then there was a rumbling, right outside his meager cage. He watched as lightning tore through the sky and rain started up, which got stronger and stronger with every passing minute. His anticipation grew as the wind turned into cutting blades, almost blowing his captors away. A storm was brewing and he knew exactly who started it. So he concentrated on the wind, on the vibrations in the air and every sound that comes from somewhere farther away. And there it was: a melody so long forgotten and yet still so beautiful and familiar. The song of his family! It was time to return!

Clouds gathered all around the Village and blocked the usually bright sun. People were starting to panic and the guards that are supposed to keep watch over him became scared. His tails trashed again right before three became one and his two wings became four. Because of the increased mass of his wings the chains keeping him down broke and because of the decreased number of tails the chains keeping him pinned slipped away. He was almost free, yesssss, he could almost taste it! Only thing left to destroy was the cage keeping him here. Four wings returned to being two and one tail became three again and with the spiked tips he just slashed his way to freedom, cutting through the iron bars like nothing.

Taking a running start he swept into the air, chirping his own answer to the long overdue call to arms. The Violentpurple Clouddragon, Skull, was on his way home. Six feathered wings carried him towards his brothers, his purple scales riddled with scars.

The clouds accompanied him and shrouded his figure from view.

Back with Tsuna and Reborn

As Reborn finished his roar he settled back down and listened while he still supported Tsuna at his side. He too could feel the return of the boy's fire and couldn’t help his smirk. Iemitsu and the other foolish have no fucking idea what’s awaiting them.

From far away both could see dark clouds gathering, followed by pounding rain and destructive lightning. The slight breeze slowly grew into turbulent winds which in turn evolved into a raging storm. The air turned humid and the dragon watched satisfied as mist started to spread through the forest. Then he listened as one after another all their voices came together as a unique and beautiful song. All their specific tunes come together but something is still missing…… That’s the moment Reborn hears a soft humming, a tune that Luce used to sing….. It’s a soft lullaby that she sang for the kids.

Roaring once again the Midnightblack Sundragon completed the harmony.

The sky was once again filled with all the raging elements, waiting to avenge the dragon that’s been slain unjustified so long ago and to take revenge for all this undeserved pain and torment.

Inside of Vongola Nono’s office

Timoteo wasn’t an idiot. When he got the notice that Tsuna was missing, again, he knew that something was up. That thous three other boys were not to be found either worried him beyond belief. But when the weather started to change he clasped his hands together and started to pray, because this could only mean one thing.

The Arcobaleno were about to gather. And where the seven strongest get together, calamity almost always follows. And without a sky to soothe their rage he sees no hope for the village and his people. He saw what they could do while trying to protect someone. Now they didn’t have this luxury. He knew that something like this would happen someday, was even prepared to face the dragon's wrath this time. But he had his own duties to fulfill.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts and one of his guards entered. “Nono, our mages have returned.” He gave an affirmative hum and sighed. Before the guard could leave again Timoteo called out to him. “Please send in Coyote and the others, it’s an emergency.”

Timoteo, Vongola Nono, hoped against hope and prayed to all gods that would listen that the tragedy would not repeat itself. But when this haunting roar sounds again in the distance, Nono knows that their chances of survival are very slim to none existent. `Please have mercy, oh kind one and spare us the pain. Let us not spill innocent blood, let us not condemn our children.´ It was an old prayer, one that Vongola Primo taught in his time, but Nono has no other option left. A single tear slid down his wrinkled cheek.

`Oh kind one, let us live peacefully and in joy with the dragons harmony, sung in a lovely lullaby.´

_TBC_

#Khr #reborn x tsuna #r27 #dragon and coward #fanfic

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recentanimenews · 3 years

Text

FEATURE: Madoka, Wonder Egg Priority, and the Future of Late-Night Magical Girl Shows

Beware! This article contains spoilers for the beginning of Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

It is January 21st, 2011. In the shadows of a witch’s labyrinth, two girls named Madoka and Mami form a close bond. Mami is a magical girl, powerful but lonely. Madoka decides, then and there, to fight by Mami’s side. But then, in the middle of combat, the witch Charlotte transforms into a giant worm and bites off Mami’s head. Madoka’s eyes widen in shock. A broken china cup seeps tea on the ground. Smash cut to the wails of goth rock trio Kalafina as black clouds roil and a single flickering shape strides toward oblivion. Three episodes in, Puella Magi Madoka Magica threw down the gauntlet. Over ten years later, the mark it left is still there.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica was special. But why? Not because it was the “first dark magical girl series.” Sailor Moon, the modern magical girl standard-bearer, became popular not just because of its charming characters but because the show could do things like briefly kill everyone during the series finale. Even magical girl series aimed at younger audiences, like Ojamajo Doremi, tackled subjects like the death of a pet or the aftermath of a divorce. Not to mention the infamous 46th episode of Magical Girl Minky Momo from 1983, when the titular heroine was hit by a truck! Truly, everything has been done before.

The secret to Madoka Magica’s success is that it is not really a magical girl show. It is a suspense thriller cunningly disguised as a magical girl show. It has as much in common with Kamen Rider Ryuuki as it has with Sailor Moon, and was written by Gen Urobuchi, a former eroge game writer who ran in the same circles as Kinoko Nasu and Hoshizora Meteo. Madoka Magica is not interested in the slow process of endearment by which magical girl series ease you into the daily routines of their characters — the weekly monsters, transformation stock footage, holidays, and very special episodes. It presents as such only as long as it takes to put you off guard, and then (clad in the gorgeous raiment of art team Gekidan Inu Curry) it goes for your throat.

So it was that Madoka Magica became the standard-bearer of a new kind of late-night anime. Rather than “cute girls doing cute things,” let’s call this genre “cruel things happening to cute girls.” Take something charming and unassuming, like a magical girl story or a high school slice-of-life show. Populate it with fun, marketable characters. Then set those characters screaming when the real story pops out like a jack-in-the-box. The frisson between cute and scary hopefully generates enough charge to catch the attention of audiences, but — most importantly — audiences don’t have to reach that far to engage with it. That is because these shows are built off those same conventions that anime fans are familiar with. Those conventions just happen to be evil this time.

As often happens in the entertainment industry, the success of Madoka spawned many copies. These projects did not have Gen Urobuchi, and they were often not lucky enough to have an art team as singular as Gekidan Inu Curry. All things considered, they tried their best. YUKI YUNA IS A HERO brought a different former eroge game writer, Takahiro, on board. Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka made its team of magical girls a proper military unit. More recently, GRANBELM added giant robots to the stew. I’d say Granbelm is my favorite of these, if only because the giant robots were pretty cool! I’d love to see them in a Super Robot Wars game one day.

Some of the more interesting entries in the “cruel things happening to cute girls” genre didn’t have any magical girls in them at all. Selector Infected Wixoss was a card battle show about teens fighting for wishes; writer Mari Okada smartly changed focus from the cruel system tearing the characters apart to the way that individual selfishness keeps cruel systems running perpetually. SCHOOL-LIVE! featured a group of schoolgirls continuing their slice of life activities within a world devastated by a zombie apocalypse; the anime production was bolstered by a murderer’s row of writers from Nitroplus, Urobuchi’s former stomping ground. Episode 3 — a flashback to teacher Megumi on the day of the outbreak — is a genuine triumph, precisely because it is so earnest. Rather than pushing hard to shock or disgust the viewer, it allows the characters to breathe in the moments leading to disaster and lets the horror come naturally.

Traditional magical girl shows, in the meantime, have been doing just fine. We’ve seen several good seasons of Precure and two fantastic ones, the all-rounder Go! Princess Precure and uneven but groundbreaking Hugtto! Precure. Sailor Moon’s Crystal remake seasons and movies have steadily improved after a rocky start. The first few seasons of magical idol series Aikatsu are charming and introduce a fun legacy quirk that ties together characters from different seasons. Even Ojamajo Doremi has seen a follow-up film that puts the spotlight on the generation who grew up watching it.

Madoka’s successors, on the other hand, are in a trickier place. Some of them have been successful, others have been good, but none have recaptured that lightning in a bottle that made Madoka a hit. Even a recent Madoka Magica series based on a phone game, written by Gekidan Inu Curry themselves, came and went without much buzz.

In the years since Madoka aired, there have been plenty of folks who have expressed their reservations about the “cruel things happening to cute girls” genre. After all, magical girl series can be revolutionary or transgressive without being cruel. Hugtto! Precure introduced the series’ first male Precure (equally comfortable wearing dresses as skating outfits) and featured a romantic partnership between two of its female leads. Go! Princess Precure’s best fight scenes are as spectacular as anything in this year’s Jujutsu Kaisen, yet remain perfectly accessible for its target audience of young girls. Madoka's progeny may have been targeted at older — and often, male — audiences, but outside of some blood and gore just a few of these series were more genuinely mature than the children’s series they riffed upon.

Image via HiDive

I do still see a future for late-night magical girl shows. In 2016, a weird magical girl series called Flip Flappers aired. Directed by animation wunderkind Kiyotaka Oshiyama, it featured two girls in love traveling through many strange and colorful environments in search of macguffins. Hidden inside a candy coating of marketable elements was everything from the Freudian fairy tale theories of Bruno Bettelheim, to architectural oddities such as thomassons, to occult figures like Jakob von Uexkull. Flip Flappers harnessed some of Madoka Magica’s sense of danger, putting its cast into intense and scary situations from the very first episode. But it was not a show about girls being tortured by an evil system; it was a show about girls exploring surreal dreamscapes. A new genre had been created: “cute girls doing weird things.”

Here are the cornerstones for the “cute girls doing weird things” genre: you need girls of course, maybe even magical girls, but the rules behind their magic are nebulous. Rather than take children’s genres and corrupt them, you build out atmospheric settings, drop in the characters, and see what happens next. You give the cast room to express themselves within the bounds of the story, rather than leading them down an assembly line to their doom. The malevolence of Madoka is not off-limits, but more useful still than malevolence is uncertainty. The goal is to unsettle the viewer rather than disgust them.

Image via Funimation

Five years after Flip Flappers, a new show walks these same steps: Wonder Egg Priority, an original series from CloverWorks. Of course, Wonder Egg Priority is aiming at something totally different than Flip Flappers. Its spooky environments are incidental. Its main aim is, through riffing on the work of Kyoto Animation and famed director Naoko Yamada, depicting in full and uncompromising detail the difficult emotional lives of teenage girls living in the modern-day. Those lives just happen to be filtered through an anime lens of trauma manifesting as horrific creatures that have to be destroyed, and girls that need to be saved. Yet to me, Wonder Egg Priority captures the dreamlike atmosphere that Flip Flappers achieved in its best moments — the means by which characters exploring unfamiliar spaces reveal themselves in new and different forms. Despite being made of familiar parts, in execution, I think it is something new.

Somewhere between Flip Flappers and Wonder Egg Priority lies the future of late-night magical girl shows. They should not ever replace the ones made for kids; those do perfectly fine on their own, thank you very much. But in their embrace of uncertainty, I recognize a ghost of what I once felt when I first saw Charlotte’s gaping maw. The sensation that the ground had disappeared, and that — like magic — anything was possible.

What's your favorite recent magical girl show? Are you excited for the newest season of Precure? Does Wonder Egg Priority terrify you on a weekly basis like it terrifies me? Let us know in the comments!

Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he isn't reciting lines from Revolutionary Girl Utena, he sporadically contributes with a loose coalition of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying? You can find him on Twitter at @wendeego

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Adam Wescott

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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yandere--stuck · 4 years

Text

Yandere!Discord x Celestia

"Retirement?" Discord croaked, air catching his lungs.

"Yes! It's a great idea, don't you think?" Celestia beamed. "Luna and I can finally get a well-deserved break, I don't think either of us have had one since we were foals! And Twilight will finally be able to stretch her wings, well, so to speak, and gain confidence as a ruler."

"Retirement…" Discord breathed out in a whisper. "You're retiring…"

Celestia's face fell, but only momentarily. The Alicorn perked up as she picked up a tea kettle with her magic, a pink aura surrounding it as she poured more tea into her cup. A nervous chucked bubbled up from her throat.

"Well, yes, but it won't be permanent, of course."

Discord stared down at his paw and claw, resting against his torso. A paw and claw. Just another way he's different. But, one couldn't ignore how useful they were, like holding things you love close to you. His head hung and maw hanging open in pure shock. His ears hung low and brushed against the back of his head.

"Where will you go…? What will you do?"

"Oh, well, of course, we're thinking of doing some travelling. But, I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we get there!"

Discord sat silently, letting the pony's words consume him. She… She was leaving him. Again. Just when he thought things were getting better. Just when he thought they were getting closer. Just when he thought things would be like they used to be.

A memory made his heart pang with sadness. Sadness and grief and regret and pain… All things that could be frowned out by the numbing joy of chaos.

Nothing could hurt you if nothing made enough sense to hurt you in the first place.

… A snow-white filly with wavy pink hair and eyes of sparkling rose quartz, her legs too long for her body. A draconequus, a mischievous mishmash of many beasts, who loved her more than tragedy loved to befall both of them. Oh, how they loved to play together, how they loved to trick and fool and play pranks. It was perfect. And then it wasn't. Because she insisted that she doesn't have time for playing games anymore, Discord. She has a nation to worry about, Discord. Her people need her, Discord.

You're a draconequus, Discord, and everypony hates draconequui and they're all murderers and hateful and cruel and they're monsters and-!... Well, okay. She didn't say that. But, it felt like it!

… So, when it came time to choose her people and her steadily spiralling and increasingly chaotic coltfriend…

She sealed him in stone.

"I'm very sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." Celestia said softly. "I figured now would be the best time, considering Luna and I were planning on announcing it to everypony else, as well."

"It's… Okay." Discord lied, pausing a moment. "... When were you planning on leaving?"

"Today, at the soonest."

"TODAY?!"

Celestia flinched, eyes wide at the draconequus' outburst. Her dining partner seethed from the opposite side of the table, panting loudly through his snout. His sharp teeth were bared and a growl built up in his throat.

Pink eyes trained on Discord, not willing to leave him. "Discord, I…"

Discord shook his head, eyes screwed shut, leaning against the tabletop. "No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen… I… I thought…" Discord blinked open his eyes, training on Celestia's hoof, resting against the surface. Hesitantly, he reached out with paw-

The princess quickly retracted it, flinching at the draconequus' movements.

Tears bubbled up in Discord's eyes. "Celly, I thought we…"

"Oh, Discord, is that what this all about?" Celestia sighed. The princess bit her lip. "Discord… We… We're not like that, anymore. I don't- we… We can't go back to that. So many things have happened and changed. It wouldn't be right."

A sob escaped Discord's throat, wracking through his entire body. He wrapped his arms around himself in a vain attempt at comfort. His body seized up and seemed to attempt to fold in on itself as he cried.

This wasn't fair! This wasn't right! This wasn't supposed to happen!

"Discord, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you still felt so strongly-"

Why didn't she remember? They were in love! She loved him and he loved her and they loved each other and they still do, they're supposed to! So, why-?

"But, you have to understand… We're just not those kids anymore. We can't be like that together. It would be irresponsible-"

He was good again, he was so good, he was getting better, even! So why… Why wasn't he enough? He loves her, he deserves her. And she has to love him, too! Why else would she-

"-I truly am sorry. I may have been a bit tone deaf, and inconsiderate. So many times I try to teach my little ponies to be caring and considerate of others, when I couldn't even realize the pain you must still be feeling-"

Maybe… Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe, it was just like before. The outside world, the other ponies, everything else… Tricking her into thinking he was bad for her, that he wasn't a good influence, that there were more important things at hoof. And after all this time, she still hasn't unlearnt it.

"-And for that, I am truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Even if we can't be together exactly like you'd want. But-"

Then, Discord supposed, the outside world will simply have to go away. Oh, Celly will get her vacation, alright.

Momentarily, a feeling of guilty gnawed at him, before he mentally cast it aside. This was good. This was right. Discord was good. This was the right thing to do.

"-I hope we can still be friends."

"No…!" Discord growled.

"What?" The hurt in Celestia's voice almost made him whimper.

The draconequus easily reached over to grab at the princess' hoof, dragging her over to press her body against his. Underneath his fur, Discord's body was alight with fiery warmth at the feeling of Celestia against him. His growls turned into purrs as he nuzzled against her.

"Discord, let go!" Celestia squirmed in his grip.

Discord chuckled, tilting up her chin with a finger. "Not this time, my dear. I let you go once, and looked how that happened. I'll never let you go, again."

The snow-white alicorn glared up at him, (oh, she was so cute when she was mad!) her horn sparking with a pink aura.

Oh no, she doesn't!

With a simple snap, her horn disappeared completely, alongside her wings. She was completely powerless and at his mercy.

Another snap, and they were both in another building entirely, much smaller than the castle, certainly. Outside the windows, Celestia saw an endless expanse of chaos, with no meaning or rhyme or reason.

Her heart beated against her ribcage. This was his dimension…

"You're powerless now, Celly," Discord crooned, nuzzling against his beloved. "And you're in my world now."

The former-alicorn seized up in fear, eyes darting about in confusion. "H- how did- why- how did you-"

Discord chuckled. "I'm much more powerful than you think, darling. The only reason I didn't do anything like this when you first banished me is because I had a soft spot for you and Lulu. I wanted to give you a fighting chance.

And now that I've changed, I wanted to be good. I wanted to reconnect naturally. I wanted to do it for you. But, no… Of course not. You don't want that. You wanted to leave me all over again!"

"Discord, please, I'm truly sorry, please, just listen-!"

"No... No more Mr. Nice Discord. Don't worry, love, you'll get your vacation. How does a few eons, just you and me, sound?"

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tackyink · 4 years

Text

Here’s what would amount to chapter 1 of the fic I started the other day if I ever decide to work on it seriously. It’s the same two scenes as last plus a new one, so it’s very short, but I’ve laughed a lot writing it.

I also realized this thing has a lot of potential to merge with Inked on Skin by Wano and I can’t believe I’m here, free at last after five years busting my ass, and suddenly thinking it would be cool to make a whole fic verse with my One Piece OCs.

=======================

It was the sunniest it had been in weeks. Clear skies, twenty-seven degrees, calm clouds and weak northwestern winds blowing from Skypiea.

Veleta had left a note on the dining table telling potential travelers to feel free to use her home to rest while she was away, and to please not touch the meteorological station next to the vegetable garden. The connection to her dad’s team had been lost for six months already, so there wasn’t much for her to do and she was dying of boredom, but he might come back for it one of these days. Who knew? Not her!

She adjusted one last time the straps of her swimming vest and backpack. Her grin gleamed under the sun almost as much as the pair of riding goggles she was wearing.

“Ready, set…” She gripped the handles of her waver firmly. “Go!”

She hit the gas and rode in a straight line towards the horizon. The White-White Sea cloud formations had some variation from day to day, but she had already determined that that was the shorter point between her home and absolute nothingness.

Other people might have called her suicidal and wondered what drove her to do this, but if Veleta had to be compared to one of the characters of the tabletop game her dad liked to play when they had visitors, she would have rolled 20 Intelligence and 2 Wisdom.

It took her a good half an hour to reach the place she was shooting for, and when she got there, with the absolute confidence of a fool with too much pride in her ideas, she drove off the white clouds into the endless blue, and a few seconds after she started dropping at breakneck speed, she hit the special button she had built into the waver and a parachute shot out of it, slowing her descent until it was safe to kick back and enjoy the view.

There was only sky, distant clouds and water as far as the eye could see, with a few dots sailing through it that must have been ships, and the promise of an island, a real island made of Vearth, far, far way. Veleta made it a mental goal to sail there.

She was elated. Her heart pounded inside her chest with excitement, and her face hurt from smiling so much. Her world was about to get so big!

And then one of the ropes securing the parachute to the waver snapped, and she was freefalling again.

With a screech that was probably heard in at least two seas above and another couple below, Veleta finished her leisurely descent by crashing into the ocean with an upturned waver and getting her backpack’s mesh caught on the breath dial exhaust. On one hand, it was a good thing that she was floating thanks to the swimming vest. On the other, she had fallen face down, and the extra buoyancy wasn’t doing her much good, considering she couldn’t turn around.

Devil Fruits weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

—

Eustass Kid was watching time pass on the prow of the Victoria Punk when he saw a projectile falling from the sky and into the sea with a spectacular splash.

He squinted at the shape of a small boat ahead and asked Killer, “The fuck is that?”

—

As it turned out, ‘that’ happened to be a pink haired girl and her failing vehicle, though a girl who didn’t know she was being appraised when she was caught in a fishing net and dragged onto a dry surface. In fact, she was having a pretty hard time staying conscious at all, and the only energy she could divert from that task was being wasted on feeling grateful that she’d been found.

When she was pulled out of the water, still tangled in the net but able to move, Veleta spent the next three minutes or so coughing out water and doing her best to hurl out the contents of her stomach into the ocean and not on these kind strangers’ ship. Said strangers gathered near her and their conversation turned increasingly confused, but they all stared at her from a distance. Perhaps the vomit had something to do with it.

She gasped for air when water stopped coming out and turned around to face her saviors and thank them, but what came out of her mouth was another screech when she saw that she was inside of a fish’s maw.

“OHGODWE’REGETTINGEATEN!” She reached for her backpack to pull out something to defend herself, but she managed to get even more tangled in the net, and she stopped struggling when she noticed no one else shared her urgency. “Huh?”

“We’re in a figurehead,” a man hiding behind a striped mask explained.

“This is a ship?!” She gaped, looking around her again. She could’ve never told that she wasn’t in a real fish. “Oh, excuse my rudeness!” She bowed, still on her knees, or tried to. Not a lot of freedom of movement inside a fishing net. “I’m Lockheed Veleta.” She flashed them a smile. “Thank you so much for saving me!”

Nobody replied right away, as if she had said something awkward. Did she make a faux-pas already? She had known people from the Blue Sea, but maybe they had a different culture. She sure as heck had never met anybody who dressed like them. Or… had a stitched mouth… but she didn’t stare, because that would surely have been rude. Maybe he had been in an accident. Maybe it was a fashion? She wanted to learn about those too. There wasn’t a lot of variety in her little island.

“How did you do that?” The redhead asked. He had a pair of goggles, too, and Veleta recognized in him a fellow stickler for safety measures. The rest of the men had been eyeing him when they weren’t staring at Veleta, so she assumed he was their leader.

“Do what?”

“Drop in the middle of the ocean!”

“Oh, of course! My parachute failed,” she said, lifting a little the tarp. It was a bit cramped inside the net, between it, the waver, her bag and herself, but she was chipper nonetheless. “I thought I was done for!”

“What are you on about?” He replied, sounding increasingly irritated. “We’re at open sea, you have to have fallen from somewhere!”

“Oooh, right! Sorry, I didn’t explain myself very well, did I?” She laughed at her own silliness. “I come from an island in the White-White Sea!”

There was another awkward silence as their confusion grew. Veleta’s smile didn’t waver.

“The White-White Sea?” The man in the mask repeated.

“Yeah! You know, where the sky islands are?” There were no signs of recognition in their faces. “People in the Blue Sea know there are islands above… right?”

A gloomy looking man wearing a hood with cute ears, conceding her point, telling the others, “She has wings.”

“I thought they were an accessory,” said the one with the stitched mouth.

“What? No! I can move them, see?” She did so as she pointed at her back.

The redhead didn’t look convinced. “Then why didn’t you fly down instead of freefalling?”

“I didn’t mean to! The parachute was supposed to work!” She was very surprised that these people were being so skeptical. “And I can’t fly! Nobody can, that’s scientifically impossible.”

The captain looked at her with a mix of disdain and disbelief and told the men, “I can’t be assed with this. Kick her off, skin her alive, do whatever you want.”

He began to walk towards the throat of the gaping fish mouth, and Veleta eyed warily the two men that approached her, but she relaxed when they only let her out of the net.

“Oh, thank you so, so much!” She said again, this time bowing properly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your kindness!”

Veleta didn’t know why that was, but they looked mighty uncomfortable every time she thanked them. It had to be a cultural thing. Something to investigate. Maybe she needed to be more subtle? Some people were easily embarrassed by open gratitude.

Well, no matter, they seemed friendly people, even if their captain was a little grouchy. And he had a right to be, Veleta was intruding in their ship, after all. She pulled her waver upright and tested the wood to make sure it wasn’t broken. The sooner she could stop bothering them, the better.

She was gathering the tarp and ropes and shoving them at the back of the waver when the masked man said, “I’ve never seen that type of vehicle.”

Veleta was very glad to break the silence and even more to explain how her vehicle worked. “It’s a waver! We use them to sail in the sea clouds.” She twisted the handle a little so they could see the wind blowing out of the exhaust. The waver escaped her grasp for a second, but she caught it before it could launch itself towards one of her saviors. “They’re very practical, but it takes a lot of time to learn to ride one.”

Apparently, the captain hadn’t gone very far yet, because that caught his attention and he walked a few steps towards the group just to say, “Doesn’t look like you’re any good at it.”

Veleta laughed. “That’s a good one!” She had made an impressive entrance from their point of view, she realized. And she could see the gleam of curiosity in his eyes, even if he wasn’t saying anything. “But they aren’t made to fly!”

He didn’t look very happy with her response. “How’s it work? I don’t see an engine.”

“Aha!” Her eyes lit up. This was her favorite part each time she met explorers from the Blue Sea. “Here’s the trick!” She crouched behind the waver and fiddled with something inside the exhaust pipe until a piece came loose. She took out the dial that powered it and showed it to the crew. “It’s a breath dial!” She pushed the top, and it expelled a gust of wind strong enough in the captain’s face to make him take a step back. She offered it up for examination. “It’s really easy to use.”

He took the dial as his men watched him test it a few times with interest. “Not bad,” he said.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” mumbled the man with the stitched mouth.

“Cool, isn’t it?” Veleta said with a grin, and she extended her hands towards the redhead to take the dial back.

The man looked at the dial, then at Veleta with a grin that could have mirrored her own if she looked like she was about to snap someone’s neck every time she smiled, which she did not. “I’ll take this as repayment.”

“Eh?” She uttered in confusion, which gave way to panic when she realized he wasn’t giving it back and he was walking away again. “EEEH?!”

“Toss her out!” He barked without looking back, motioning at the sea with a hand.

The rest of the crew didn’t waste a moment to drop the waver back in the water, grab Veleta from under her arms and launch her onto her little vessel.

“Wait!” She yelled. “I need that dial to sail! You can’t leave me here!”

But the men had stopped paying attention to her the moment they flung her away. The strange ship that had rescued her unceremoniously sailed past her, dangerously rocking her waver and abandoning her to her luck in the middle of an unknown sea.

#lockheed veleta

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jon-daddy-dominus · 3 years

Text

Kitten's Collar

Chapter, 29

Turning her head to the side, to avoid his advance, Stacy repeated, in a whisper. "Clint... please don't."

"Why not?" He asked, quietly.

Turning her head slightly back towards him, she cut her eyes up to meet his. "Because it's not right."

"Why not?" He asked again.

"Because it isn't, Clint... You're only fourteen, and I'm twenty six. Not to mention, for the past couple of years, I've basically been your mom. Besides, I'm married." She said softly, still cutting her eyes up at him, with a sad look if panicked confusion.

"Is that it?"

Turning her head back, to face him straight on, Stacy's eyes softened, "Isn't that enough?"

"I guess it should be."

"Then why do you look like you're going to try to kiss me again?"

"Because you gave me all those reasons why "It's not right" but not one of them, was because, "you don't want me to".

"Clint..." she whispered, shaking her head apologetically.

"Forget everything else... Tell me you don't want me to." He whispered back.

Her eyes danced back, and forth as she searched her mind for excuses. "Clint... we just can't, okay?"

"Just look me in the eye, and tell me you don't want me to."

"Clint, you're just a kid. You don't understand."

Frustrated, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, and growled. "No! You don't understand, Stacy?"

Confused by his outburst, and sudden change in mood, Stacy quickly sat up. "Clint, what's going on, Sweetheart? What don't I understand?"

Clint tightened his jaw, lowered his eyes, and didn't say anything.

"Please, don't do that. Tell me what's wrong. What don't I understand?" Stacy asked, her concern clearly showing in her expression.

"You don't know what it's like... Nobody does." He grumbled, fighting back tears.

Taking his hand in hers, Stacy quieted her voice. "Clint, please talk to me Sweetie. Tell me what's wrong."

He sat there flexing his jaw, looking angry. "I feel like a fucking faggot, Stacy!" He yelled.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, I just do."

Bending down, and lifting her head to meet his eyes. Cautiously, she asked. "Do you like boys?"

"Hell, no!" He snapped.

"Then why would you say, that you feel gay? I don't understand."

"Just forget it, okay?" He snapped again, pulling his hand away, and getting up.

Stacy jump to her feet, and grabbed his wrist, to keep him from walking away. "Is that why you kissed me? Because you're trying to figure out if you're gay, or not?"

Turning away from her, and staring at the wall, he grumbled. "No."

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"Because I don't want to feel fuckin gay anymore!"

"Sweetie, if you don't find men attractive, you're not gay." She paused for a second. "But if you do... that's okay too, you know." She stated, trying to comfort him.

"No, damn it! I'm not into dudes! I like women, okay?"

"Then why did you need to kiss me, to feel like you're straight?"

"Because I've never done anything with a girl before, and I thought it might make me feel less gay."

"I don't want to upset you, more than you already are, but... can I ask you something? "

"What?" He grumbled.

"Have you ever done anything with another guy?"

He clenched his jaw tightly, and scowled. "Not because I wanted to."

Stacy's heart sunk, the hurt, and shame that now covered his face was obvious. Imagined, images of what might have happened to him filled her mind, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Gently, she tugged on his arm, to pull him to her, but he resisted.

Still holding his wrist, she held him in place, and stepped in front of him, but he refused to look at her.

"Clint... look at me baby."

Keeping his head, facing to the side, he shook it a little.

Stacy could hear his shaky breaths, and quiet sniffles, as he struggled to pretend he wasn't crying.

"Baby... If someone did something to you, that you didn't want, it's not your fault, and it certainly doesn't make you gay."

Clint still didn't respond. Taking a deep breath, he raised his face toward the ceiling, and blew out hard.

"Clint... Look at me." Stacy whispered softly.

Shaking his head again, he wiped his face in his sleeve, but still wouldn't look at her.

She placed her hand on his cheek, and gently turned his head toward her, but he kept his eyes firmly on the floor.

"It's not your fault, Sweetheart. You're not gay." Stacy reassured him.

"What did I do, to make God hate me so much?" He whimpered.

"Clint, God doesn't hate you."

"Then why is my life so fucked up?"

"I'm not going to lie. Life has been very cruel to you... but no one's life is easy, Sweetheart. You can't allow the bad things that have happened to you, control who you are as a person."

Unable to hold back anymore, his knees gave out, and he sank to the floor weeping uncontrollably.

Quickly, Stacy dropped down next to him, and wrapped him in a tight, loving hug. "It's okay, baby. I promise things will get better. You're a wonderful person. You're smart, good looking, kind, talented, and one day, things are going to be better. You've just got to hang in there, okay?"

"My Maw Maw's dead, my Daddy's dead, I murdered my Uncle to keep him from beatin me to death! My own momma doesn't even love me! She walked away like I was nothin! All the kids at school are scared of me, and talk shit about me! I don't have any friends, or a girlfriend! I feel like a faggot, cause I've never even kissed a girl, but I've had a man's dick in my mouth, and ass!" He sobbed into Stacy's shoulder, as she tried desperately, to hug his pain away.

"I'm so sorry baby... you didn't deserve all that... no one does, but especially not you." Stacy cried, squeezing him tighter.

Pulling away from her embrace, he calmed himself, as he wiped his face clean.

"Yeah? Then how come, when I finally get the guts to kiss you... the one person in my life that I care about, you rejected me like everybody else?"

"Clint, that's not fair."

"How is it not fair? You say you love me, but I'm not good enough for you either."

"I do love you, Sweetheart, but I already told you, we can't, it's not right."

"Yeah, I know. Cause of our age difference, right? But if I was twenty four, and you were thirty six, it wouldn't be an issue. And, yeah, you're my foster mom, but you're not my real mom, so basically you're just a girl that cares about me. Kinda like a girlfriend, right? And yeah, I know you're married, but you and Ryan's relationship is a joke anyway. Y'all don't hold hands, or kiss, or anything. And y'all might sleep together, but I know y'all don't do nothin, cause the whole time I've lived with y'all, I ain't never seen the bedroom door closed... Not even once! So, since none of that stuff is really a problem, the only other thing it could be, is I'm not good enough for you, and you don't want me."

In complete shock, Stacy sat there staring at him with her mouth hanging open, and shaking her head in disbelief. Her eyes danced in circles, as she searched the corners of her mind, struggling to find the words to combat his argument.

After a few seconds of silence, she softly replied. "What'dya want me to say, Clint? You're right, the age difference between us, is little more than a mathematical opinion, and because we're not biologically related... If I felt as strongly about someone else, as I do you? I suppose the idea of myself, and that person being in a romantic relationship, would definitely be a possibility. And... you're also right about my marriage to Ryan. It's been love-less for a very long time."

She looked down at the floor, drew a long breath, and looked back up at him. "The truth is Clint... I do care about you. Alot. And it's been sooo long since someone has looked at me, the way you did, and for the first time, in a very long time... I felt like someone wanted me... like someone wanted to be with me. I felt loved. And when you kissed me...? It felt sooo good, and if I'm being completely honest? I really didn't want you to stop. But the fact is, you've had a really tough life, and I know, with all of the things that have happened to you? You have to be an emotional train wreck, and as much as I wanted you to keep going, I felt like I would have been taking advantage of your emotional, confusion. That's why I told you to stop."

"I know my head's fucked up, but I'm not stupid. I know what I want, and what I don't. Pretty much, everything that's ever happened in my life, has been shit that I didn't want to happen, but this ain't one of them."

"I know, you think you want this, and I know I do too, but I don't want to jeopardize the relationship we've built. I don't want you to wake up tomorrow, and regret it, and resent me for it. You've suffered enough already, I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you too."

"Stacy, I love you, and I know you love me, but I'm not saying I want to marry you. I'm just saying that, because of the stuff that's happened to me, I feel like something's wrong with me... I feel like I'm gay. I feel like I need to have sex with a girl, to make sure I'm not... or to remind me I'm not, I don't really know how to say it... But I've never done anything with a girl before, and I don't know what's gonna happen. What if I can't? What if don't like it? What if I mess up, and start cryin, or somethin? That's why, I wanna do it with somebody that cares about me... Somebody that's not gonna laugh, or make fun of me, if it doesn't work." Clint explained.

Stacy peered deep into his eyes. She could tell he wasn't making it up. His facial expression was sad, and nervous, but genuine all the same. She thought about all the horrible things that had happened in his life, and how, through all of it, he still managed to be this loving, polite, respectful young man, that she had grown to care so much for. How could she deny him something, that he seemed to need so badly? But at the same time, what if she was wrong? What if, it was just his teenage hormones driving his request, and what if, what she was considering, would only add to the confusion of his emotional state? What if she gave in to his plea, and it destroyed the trust, and relationship they'd built?

"I wanna help you. I really do, but I don't think this is a good idea."

His eyes soft, and begging, he whispered. "Please, Stacy. I don't wanna feel like this anymore..."

With a long, sympathetic sigh, she shook her head, and softly replied, "I think it's time for bed." as she grabbed the shot glasses, and nearly empty tequila bottle, and headed to the kitchen.

Clint got up, and made his way down the hallway, to his room. Laying across his bed, he stared at the posters on his ceiling for a few minutes, as he began to consider how awkward things were going to be in the morning, before reaching over, and clicking off his lamp.

He was angry at himself for opening up so much. Why didn't he just accept her offer to order some porn on pay per view, and leave it at that? Why did he tell her everything? He gritted his teeth, and shoved the back of his head into his pillow, as hard as he could, grumbling. "Why am I so stupid?"

CLICK. His lamp came back on. "You're not stupid, Clint... slide over." Stacy whispered, climbing into bed next to him.

"Are you sure, this is what you want?" She asked softly.

"Yeah." He replied, nervously.

"Then, what are you waiting for?"

Clint rolled to his side, and kissed her passionately, running his hand from her hip, to her shoulder. Frantically tugging, he tried to pull her tank top off, and scrambled to his knees, to climb between her legs.

He managed to expose her breast, and gave up on removing her shirt, and instead began pulling at her panties, as he kissed her.

Putting her hands on his chest, Stacy pushed him back, and whispered. "Sweetie, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but slow down, okay? Most girls don't like that."

"Don't like what?"

"You're going too fast. I get it, you're excited. But if you keep going like this, you're going to cum before you ever get started. Girls want a guy to be passionate, and intense, but it takes us a little longer to get ready. And believe me, no woman wants a selfish lover. Those are the guys that, kiss her for a few seconds, hurry across her boobs, then rush to get in, and cum before the girl even gets wet. Don't be that guy. Right now, how would you feel, if I told you I already came, and I was done, and going to sleep?"

"Like, right now?"

"Yeah, right this second."

"Did you?"

"No." She laughed. "But I'm asking you, how you would feel, if I just stopped, right now, because I was done?"

"I guess I'd be kinda mad."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't get to go yet."

She made her eyes big, and raised her eyebrows. "See what I'm getting at? That's not fun for us either. We like to orgasm just as much as you guys do, it just takes us a little longer. So, no matter who the girl is, slow down, take your time, and make sure she go's at least once, before you do. Okay?"

"Okay." He agreed, as he cupped her breast, and resumed kissing her.

She reached down, and pulled his shirt up to his shoulders. Clint leaned up, and pulled it the rest of the way off, before lowering himself back down to take her nipple into his mouth.

He pressed his teeth into the sensitive skin on her breast, making her jump a little. "Ump. Easy babe. You can use your teeth a little, just don't bite too hard."

"How am I supposed to know if it's too hard?"

"Well, if you hurt her bad, she's going to yell, or say ouch, or something, but you could always just ask her. Either way, you should start gently, and pay really close attention to her. Feel her body movements, and gradually increase the pressure. If she jumps, or jerks away? Back off."

"Okay." He agreed.

He kissed, sucked, and massaged her breast for a while, before he began kissing, and licking his way down her stomach.

When he reached her sex, he made long, ineffective, licks across the outter part of her vagina.

Not wanting to criticize his efforts, she reached down, and spread herself open for him, tapping her clit with her finger. "You're doing good, but right here, is where it feels best."

Following her instructions, he placed his tongue on her, and started flicking, and swirling.

"Mmm... that feels good." She moaned, moving her hands out of the way, now that he'd found his target.

Her sexy moans of encouragement, filled him with a desire to please her, and he buried his face in her, with a new found passion.

His technique may have been inexperienced, and a bit awkward, but his enthusiasm to gain her approval, was unrivalled by any of her past lovers.

She squeezed her thighs against the sides of his face, and rolled her hips into him, as she inched closer to climaxing.

Not knowing, and thinking he'd made a mistake, he lifted his head to ask what was wrong. But before he could say anything, she placed her hand on the back of his head, and guided him back down. "Please, don't stop. You're going to make me cum!"

Like throwing gasoline on a flame, her words enraged his passion, and he gripped tightly to her thighs, as he pressed his face into her, flicking, licking, and sucking wildly.

Running her fingers through his hair, she took a long, deep, breath, and quivered, as the euphoric release overtook her body. As it hit her, she threw her head back, and squealed loudly, flinging her head side, to side. Her thighs clench down around his head, and she rubbed herself against his still flicking tongue, as she screamed. "Umm... yes! Yes! That feels so good!"

Releasing her legs from around him, she cupped his face in her hands, and pulled him to her mouth. They kissed passionately, as she reached down, to guide him inside.

As he pushed himself inside, his eyes widened, and his heart pounded, from the intensity of the warm, silky, and wet sensation her body offered.

When he was all the way in, Stacy grabbed his face, and softly said. "I know you said this was your first time, so you're probably not going to last very long. But that's okay, because I've already gone. Just take your time, and enjoy it. Okay?"

Clint nodded, and slowly worked his way in, and out of her. This new sensation was more than he'd ever imagined, and he loved it. He lost himself in her... The way she felt, wrapped around him, the heat emanating from her body, the sweet smell of her hair, the softness of her lips, the smoothness of her skin, the sweet, but salty taste of her sex... everything. But most of all, it was the look in her eyes. It was the passion, desire, and lust that penetrated his soul, as she stared down at him during her orgasm. He couldn't get the image out of his mind... he wanted to see it again, he needed it, he craved it.

He carved her image into his memory, as he stared down into her face, and his pace increased. Before he knew what was happening, he was struggling to catch his breath, as he began to tremble deep inside. He went completely numb for a second, then instantly began to tingle all over, immediately followed by the purest feeling of joy, happiness, and ecstasy, all rolled into one. It was better than any alcohol he'd ever had. Better than the high he'd gotten from the weed he smoked, with one of the seniors, under the bleachers. It was better than all his favorite foods combine. As far as he was concerned, this was as close as a person could ever get to heaven, without actually dying.

He collapsed on top of her, feeling drained, and weak.

Stacy kissed his forehead, and lay there, running her fingers through his hair, as he panted to catch his breath.

"Well?" Stacy whispered.

"Huh?" Clint asked, not hearing her over his own panting.

"Did it help?"

Pushing himself up on one elbow, he smiled. "Yeah. I definitely don't feel gay, anymore."

Smiling back, she chuckled. "That's good. I'm glad you know for sure. Now, you can stop stressing about it."

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