#event: cattish

[tallymarkbrothers]

#blaseball #ic #not an ask #prime #four #commish #event: cattish #so you may notice the boys are looking extra crunchy today #ive been drawing a lotta stuff in ms paint recently #and im now out of practise using Literally Anything Else hgfhgh #so theyre crunchy #for now

[yacinthemorning]

Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 1

[first] [next]

Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hyrbid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, no workplace safety, awkward flirting

“Stay still.”

“I’m- ow! I’m trying! Stop stabbing me!”

“I wouldn’t poke you if you remained still!”

Grian let out an awful hiss, of which Jimmy simply returned before focusing back on his work. With careful hands he pinned back the linen around the base of Grian’s bright, colourful wings. Normally it was quite difficult even with a behaved customer thanks to the down that bridged into the back’s flesh. Luckily, Jimmy was an expert at this particular issue thanks to his own avian heritage. Despite further protests accompanied by goading from Scar across the room, Jimmy acquired the right measurements needed, and began pulling the linens off. “Okay, that’s all for today.” He assured.

Grian hardly waited, hopping away to the bench his companions waited for him upon. Mumbo held out his old clothes – filled with holes and poor patchwork that had also since worn through. He glared at Jimmy. “It’s a miracle you stay in business with the way you treat your customers like glorified pin cushions!”

“Oh, it’s a particularly special treatment.” Jimmy beamed, crossing his arms. “I save my best customer service just for you, my dear brother.”

He got a sniff in reply before Grian stomped out. Mumbo stepped forward instead, rummaging through his coin purse. “Sorry about that, Jim. He’s ornery about having to replace his sweater.”

“I don’t see why he should be. It’ll end up within reach in his nest.” Jimmy shrugged as he counted out the coins. “Like every other exactly identical sweater I’ve made him.”

“It’s true! I can hardly tell what’s sweater and what’s feather in that thing anymore.” Scar pushed himself up with his cane and a chuckle.

A raised eyebrow was directed to him, but Jimmy was unsure the vexling noticed. Instead, he simply logged it away in his mind. A pparently, they were at the stage of sharing nest- and nobody bothered to tell him, of course. “Well, you know how the routine goes, come back in a week for fitting. I practically know his order by heart now and have all the supplies ready.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, Tim. Come over for tea sometime soon!” Shouted Scar as Mumbo opened his parasol and guided him out the shop door. It jingled upon their exit, and Jimmy waited until it came to a full stop before he stopped waving. With a sigh, he placed the linens down at his desk, then collapsed into his chair. His brother always felt like at least a full day’s work on his own. 

Jimmy was sorting through his fabrics to find the right shade of red when there was a strange scratching sound, followed by the jingle of door bells and a curse. His desk’s Gaslamp shuddered like a warning. Jimmy looked up in time to see a man slinking through his half-opened door like a scolded animal. He was cloaked in rough leather and quite frankly looked like he’d just been pulled out of a well. Steam simmered in the air from his head, and a limp tail dragged a bit too slowly behind, eliciting a cattish screech when the door clamped down on its tufted end.

Jimmy’s feathers raised defensively, in instinct and appalment. “Hello?” Was the only greeting he could muster. The man fell to his knees, and it was then that Jimmy noticed how much he shook. It activated some protective part of his soul, pushing him forward to aid the man to his feet. But just as quickly as he reached out the stranger pulled back, throwing a hand with blackened claws up.

“Don’t- Don’t touch me.” His scratchy voice warned. “You’ll burn.”

“Well I can’t very well help you without touching you!” Jimmy huffed.

The stranger shook his head, though. “You’re a… specialty tailor, right?” Even his voice shook.

Curiosity piqued, Jimmy crouched down to look his guest in the eye. They were a deep red, glowing like embers, and darting about nervously. At first, Jimmy thought he might have been attacked and was searching for threats. On closer inspection, however, it was his own hands and knees he kept checking, shifting, as if they were untrustworthy. Jimmy nodded. “I am. I work with avians mostly, but I can tailor for any hybrid.”

The stranger’s tail perked up at that, mouth cautiously tilting up with it. “Do you… Can you make clothing that’s fireproof?”

“I can certainly try.” He said with a raised eyebrow. He held out his hand once more, but the man flinched back once again. “You know I can’t say I’m too eager to work, however, for mysterious men who collapse on my floor and will barely look at me.”

“O-oh! Ah, yeah, ha…” Seemingly newly aware of his appearance, the man stumbled onto his feet. He still shivered, and below the drenched rags his knees wobbled like they’d never held his weight before. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to- I’m Tango.” A wide grin stretched across his face, strained almost into a grimace. Impossibly sharp teeth chattered together. 

Despite the posture he took up for a greeting, he still refused to offer his hand even in a polite handshake. That one Jimmy couldn’t say he minded. It was a greeting that was almost entirely human, for those without other appendages to utilize. He was much more familiar with a flutter and caw, or a flare of fins, or the curl of a tail. 

Jimmy tried to give as friendly a smile back as he could muster. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Tango. Call me Jimmy. Now…” With Tango on his feet the muddy puddle forming under him became evident. “Would you care to share with me why you’ve come to my shop in this… state?”

“It, well… It’s a bit of a story…” The rags were pulled tighter around him. “But, um, I need clothes, is the long-short of it.”

“I can see that, yes.” Unsure what else to do if the man would not let him touch him to help, Jimmy returned to his work desk and reached for his cabinet of manuals. “You don’t, um… Not to presume from your appearance, which I’m guessing is not some bold fashion statement or typical, but I’m assuming you aren’t looking for anything too fancy?”

A strained sound escaped him, that might have been a laugh if the poor creature in front of Jimmy wasn’t so miserable. “They don’t exactly make slops for blazeborn. Even at the mines.”

“Most hybrids around here can get away with a few personal alterations, but fireproofing is a bit of a challenge without imports from the Nether.” He pulled up some of his most basic draft designs. Undergarments, a simple shirt, trousers, maybe a jacket… No, Tango probably couldn’t afford a jacket, from the pay Fwhip told him the miners received. The feathers of his ears flexed as he tilted his head around the design in front of him. Well, there was nothing stopping Jimmy from perhaps whetting his skills by making one, that perhaps happened to fit Tango…

Tango shifted, first taking a step towards the bench that sat pushed up against the window, then froze, before he shuffled back to where he stood before. Jimmy waved his hand. “Sit, sit. This’ll take a while.”

“I- I can’t. I might…”

“It’s treated, it won’t go up in flames that easily. Besides, you’re sopping wet.”

Reluctantly, cautiously, the blazeborn made his way over. One would have thought he was about to sit down on a porcupine. Eventually, though, he managed to sit himself, and like Jimmy promised it failed to burst into flames at mere contact. Of course, he’d pulled the claim from thin air. He’d never worked with a blazeborn before and he hardly knew a thing about carpentry. It was a good guess, at least he thought so, from the fact that the floorboards were not singed.

“So, um, how long will it take?” Tango asked, finally letting himself shuffle into a more comfortable position.

Jimmy hummed as he used his talon to flip through pages. “Well, I don’t exactly have weepweave or hoglin leather lying in storage, and I can’t say I’ve seen it in the market, so I’ll have to special order it which will likely take a few weeks-”

“Wha- A few weeks ?” Tango balked.

“- But we could test some more locally available materials in the meantime, at which point it will take a few days to complete the set.”

His customer seemed wary of even that but settled down, nonetheless. “I might need, uh, at least two.”

“Two?” Jimmy frowned.

“Sets. Of clothes. This is…” He tugged on the rags. “This is all I have left.”

Jimmy stared, eyes wide and brow knotted. On closer inspection the rags maybe once were an acceptable work outfit, but they’d been ruined beyond salvaging. Torn apart and set ablaze. Jimmy guessed at least the undershirt was some type of weepweave from its slight teal colour and being the most intact piece, but the rest was cotton. 

“I see.” Said Jimmy. He walked over to his fabric stores and shuffled through his sample drawer until he found what he needed. “Gimme your arm.”

Tango hackles raised. “You’ll-”

“I’m going to have to measure and fit you later. If I can’t touch you, I can’t make clothes for you.” Jimmy tutted. “Come on, I just need to check what materials will survive.”

It took another minute of patience but eventually the blazeborn offered up his arm. Jimmy gave him a grateful chirp, a tone he hoped was calming to the non-avian. There was an odd jolt in his shoulders, but it settled as he placed the sample to his arm. 

Jimmy could feel how warm his skin really was. Too hot, but certainly not hot enough to cause fabric to burst into flames. It was more like a high fever, but he wasn’t flushed with one. Jimmy looked up to his face, which was contorted with fear, unblinkingly trained on the fabric. His hair was dampened down like he’d been caught in a rainstorm, but the strands danced on their own. Little cinders would light in them before they fizzled out into steam.

“How does this texture feel to your skin?” Asked Jimmy. To what extent he needed to specialize his work for a blazeborn was beyond his knowledge.

Tango shrugged. “It’s fine. Soft.”

“Soft?” Jimmy couldn’t help chuckle. Compared to the other wools in his collection this one was rather coarse. “Well, that’s good to know. I don’t know how hot you can become, but wool is quite resistant to fire. Burns out before it can spread. I don’t know if it’ll be too warm for you, though.”

“No! No, no, that's fine. Warm’s… good.” His tail swayed, curly up over his leg before falling back to the side. “It’s a lot colder here.”

Backing up, Jimmy offered a smile. “Then wool it is. Do you, um, I suppose you don’t have much issue with sweating?”

“No, can’t do that even if it was warm.”

“Excellent. Then, let me get measurements started.”

Tango still seemed unsure, but a polite smile formed on his lips as he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Measurements became awkward as they realized Tango had no clothes to wear while doing so. In the end, Jimmy offered him one of his undershirts. It was too tight around the shoulders and too long in the midsection, but it would do. Seeing the linen fail to catch fire when he wore it also did well to calm Tango from whatever situation had spooked him in the first place. In the following hours Tango offered no explanation, and so Jimmy offered no questions.

Then there was the matter of… well, rather the same matter of Tango still lacking clothing. He could not very well go out into public so indecent. They settled on Jimmy rushing his order and letting him stay overnight. “I’m probably fired and thrown out of the company barracks, anyways.” He laughed humourlessly. Jimmy was far from wealthy, but he had a bench and extra blankets. Hopefully he would have something to wear by the morning so he could retrieve his things. 

Of course, there was a good chance the man just wanders off with his new clothes to never be seen again. Tango asked Jimmy if he was worried about that very situation. What was Jimmy to do, though? Go to the police about a man who swindled him out of a few dollars of his cheapest fabric and thread? Not seeing a man run around town as bare as the day he was born was probably enough compensation. Jimmy wasn’t that stingy. 

It was probably why he wasn’t wealthy, instead stuck in a mining town whose mines were already drying up.

Jimmy wasn’t much of a cook, but he could stew up some meat and vegetables. “You might as well have some.” He didn’t give space for Tango to protest, placing a bowl in front of him.

“Is that curry?” Tango asked in awe.

“It was a gift for putting up with my brother’s... poor decorum.” A spicy scent wafted up from his spoon. Truth be told he wasn’t a fan the last time he got to try some, but there was no reason to let it go to waste.

Tango showed no hesitation after that. The curry was inhaled within minutes. “Man, I haven’t had a lick of curry since I left the Nether.” He sighed, licking his chops of the last flecks. “It’s so expensive here, like it’s a delicacy or something.”

“When you have to import the ingredients from so far, it is.”

“Mmm. Everything from the Nether is hard to get here.” Melancholy seeped into the blazeborn’s gaze. “And money’s harder to come by. You make copper on the diamond as a digger in those mines. And they take most of it just to equip you.”

Jimmy smiled sympathetically. “They don’t call it the wild west for nothing. Labour laws are merely suggestions out here.”

“You seem to be doing fine for yourself, to help out a beggar like me.” A fork pointed accusatively at the tailor. “Your brother… You mean that Grian guy, right? The profiteer.”

“He prefers the term ‘investor,’ but yes.”

“The swindler.” Tango narrowed his eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout.

Jimmy laughed. “Indeed, that’s him.”

“He’s the reason that quack and that inventor stay in business. They sold our mine a bunch of equipment that fell apart the next day. I don’t know how they stuck around town after that. How’s a sweet apple like you fall from the same tree as that bad egg?”

“Unless you’re attempting to imply something, I think you’ve confused your metaphors.” Giggling through every word was becoming difficult to resist. Tango seemed aware of this, sharp teeth forming into a mischievous smirk.

Neither took much notice when the old grandfather clock struck eight, then nine, and then ten.

Tango twirled around in the centre of Jimmy’s studio, new clothing flaring out in all directions where it had not been properly tucked in. “How does it look?” He asked, pride shown in his stance.

With a tilt of his head, Jimmy responded, “I think I need to bring the waist a bit more.”

“More adjustments?” Immediately the netherborn deflated.

“I’m afraid that’s how it goes.”

“Clothing in the Nether is never this fitted.” He complained while Jimmy got back to work unpinning. “Neither are slops.”

Jimmy clicked his tongue, having just barely avoided stabbing his finger. If he were to keep count, Grian’s claims of harm would seem laughable beside the number of times the only one who was hurt by Jimmy’s sewing was himself. “Then asking an avian to clothe you was a grave mistake on your part.”

“Actually, I think that’s the best decision I’ve made in years. I don’t see any other handsome tailors offering to make me new clothes on his own dime.”

“Oh, stop it or I’ll take it back.” Jimmy grumbled, though his cheeks had turned red.

The doorbell chimed, forcing both men to pause and turn to the new intruder.

It was a goblin, not just any of the many from the mines - workers and children alike – but one who stood a bit taller than a goblin should. Dressed in decorated silks mixed with his rough work clothes, Fwhip was an immediately recognizable man. And it was hard not to know the man who practically owned the half-dozen mining towns in the area – or literally owned them if you were misfortunate enough to live within the neighbourhoods of barracks. In his hand was a bundle wrapped tight in a rough red weepweave cloth, and he peered around until his eyes first settled on Tango before spotting Jimmy and frowning. Jimmy couldn’t blame him, as his own mood soured significantly.

“Fwhip, what misfortune brings you back to my shop? Considering the ban and all.” He wrinkled his nose at the goblin. Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to antagonize him, but intelligence rarely drove Jimmy’s choices.

Tango’s ears pinned back. “What’s up, boss?”

“So, you are here, Tango.” Fwhip ignored Jimmy and approached his – former? – employee. “I heard someone say they saw you run off here into this mediocre shop. I came to return your things- what wasn’t burnt away, at least.”

A wry smile stretched across his face as he took up the bundle. “I’m guessing my job isn’t among them?”

“You were a good employee Tango, good with the machines, but no. I can barely manage to convince folks it’s safe to still sleep in the left wing at all.”

“Is it safe?” Jimmy asked and raised an eyebrow, to which he only received a shrug. 

“I get it. Thanks for bringing my stuff.”

“If you ever need a good word put in, call me up.” Promised Fwhip. “You know, maybe this is for the best. You were always too good for the work you did.”

There was a small grunt in response. Tango had preoccupied himself with examining his belongings, which from the smell alone one could tell had not escaped whatever fiery incident had occurred. A strange sense of protectiveness – and maybe just a bit of spite – drove Jimmy to speak up on his behalf. “If that is all, we were in the middle of business, and you are still banned.”

With a pat on the back for the unemployed and an indignant snort towards the shopkeeper, Fwhip left. Good riddance, as far as Jimmy was concerned. But Tango was less joyous.

Cradled in the rough cloth were a pair of heavily burnt work boots, a half-consumed blazerod, three tins of what Jimmy assumed to be redstone from the stains, and what appeared to be…

“Are those goat horns?” Jimmy spoke incredulously. Tango chuckled.

“Durable. Good for piping redstone, and not a half-bad instrument!”

He hummed, returning to his work. “You know a bit of redstone, then? Somehow that suits you.”

“Was my job, back in the Nether. Though, even before I came here I couldn’t seem to find good work with it.”

“I heard from Mumbo and Scar that you can make light with it.”

“Yep, if you activate it then it’ll give off its own light, though usually you use it with glowstone to make lamps. It’s a bit similar to prismarine crystals or frog glass.”

“And I’m to assume the price is also similar?”

“Oh, of course.”

Tango continued his chatter about redstone and light, which evolved into machinery, the descriptions of which Jimmy found difficult to wrap his mind around. All the while he pinned and trimmed and stitched. Before either knew it, the work had been done. Jimmy had sat down, watching the blazeborn ramble on with amusement, curious to when he would notice. Once it reached a full hour, and it became clear that Tango would go on in perpetuity if not stopped by an external force, Jimmy finally spoke up.

“Tango, that’s lovely and I would very much like to hear more about clank circuits,” He softly interrupted with an outstretched hand which he gently placed on Tango’s forearm. “But if you could spare a moment, I’d very much like to know what you think of your clothes?”

“Oh? Oh!” It finally occurred to the man that there was no more work to be done, spinning on the spot to look at himself. Laughing a bit to himself, Jimmy indicated towards the large set of full-length mirrors beside him. The clothes were simple, thick for insulation and work, and dyed various dull reds and dark browns. It looked acceptable, though Jimmy was already playing with ideas for when the Nether materials came in to make something much nicer. 

For Tango’s part, he seemed pleased regardless, his tail stuttering with too much energy. “This is amazing! I watched you do it and I don’t get how you put it together.”

“Well, that’s because you don’t know what you’re looking at.” Jimmy offered. “I’m sure with your brain for machinery you could figure it out easily if you were to stick around.”

His ears perked. “Can I?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Stay, I mean.” It seemed to suddenly occur to him the oddity of his request, shrinking in on himself. “I, uh, well I don’t really have anywhere else to go, and Tumble Town has no workhouse.”

Jimmy’s wings flared in appalment. “I would never send you to one if there were! Although, I don’t exactly have comfortable long-term accommodation for you.” He hummed for a moment, thinking. “I suppose my brother has guestrooms now, if I understood correctly what I heard yesterday.” The last part he whispered to himself.

“The bamboozler?” Tango asked in disappointment.

It was all Jimmy could do to not roll his eyes. “I’d say ‘get over it’, but I grew up living with him, so I understand. Fine, you can stay here, but I’m finding you something more comfortable to sleep on at the very least.”

“I bet your bed’s comfy.” Tango grinned.

“It is, I sleep there.”

“Well, I never said you had to sleep somewhere else.”

Jimmy was already beginning to think that, perhaps, this was all one great big mistake.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #rancher duo #mumscarian #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #mcyt #traffic series #hermitpires #fanfic #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #fluff #slice of life #western fantasy #alternate universe #sharing a slice of cake

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 460, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, blood, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) neonatal death

WORDS: 1232

“Home sweet home,” Peter mumbled into my neck as he laid me down onto our marital bed, removing my shoes and tucking me into bed. “Do you need anything, sweetheart?”

Squeak

“Okay sweetheart,” he chuckled, pressing a simple kiss to my temple. “Get some sleep now.”

Yes daddy.

~xoXox~

When I woke up next, my bladder felt like it was going to explode.

I got up out of bed and waddled quickly into the bathroom, sighing in relief when I ended up making it to the toilet in time.

“Yay yay,” I giggled, humming and swinging my feet as trickling filled the bathroom.

“Sweetheart?”

Peter was suddenly in the bathroom, his face worried and full of love as he took to a knee next to me, placing a hand over Baby Violet Marie, who gave out one sleepy kick when she felt her daddy nearby.

KICK

“I get scared whenever you go to the bathroom sweetheart,” he confessed in a sheepish tone of voice. “After the surprise birth of little girl, I’m constantly terrified that you will give birth to my babies on the toilet again.”

Ah.

“My love, listen to me,” I cooed softly, leaning back to allow him space to wipe me clean. “Giving birth to little girl in such a manner was a rare, once in a lifetime event. You can trust my buttons when I tell you that I won’t ever give birth in such a manner ever again.”

“Yeah, but you’re unable to control how my babies will be born,” he chuckled, flushing the toilet before helping me up to the sink to wash my hands.

My heart cracked a little bit at learning what his boggart would be as I turned the water off and reached for the hand towel.

“My love, fear had two meaning,” I could only say as he scooped me into his arms and carried me back into the bedroom. “Face everything and rise, or forget everything and run. The choice is entirely up to you.”

Peter was silent as he tucked me in, turning to the resounding patterings that sounded at the door, which turned out to be Baby Tommy and little girl.

“Hello there, sweet babies!” I cooed as Peter lifted them up onto the bed, where they swarmed me and Baby Violet Marie before settling down on either sides of us. “Did you climb up the stairs all by yourselves?”

“Wantseis cuddles wif Mama Wen Wen!” little girl pouted. “Mama Wen Wen, Baa bee Vii wet Mawie in tummy?”

“Yes, that’s right!” I giggled as Peter tugged the blankets up to keep me warm before leaving the six of us- myself, Baby Tommy, his dollie, little girl, her dollie and Baby Violet Marie. The two little babies and two little dollies clustered themselves in tightly to my tummy, smiling when their unborn baby sister started kicking once more.

KICK KICK PUNCH PUNCH KICK PUNCH

“Wowie…” Little girl cocked her head curious as ever. “Mee mee?”

“Yes, that’s right!” I placed my hands onto both babies’ head. “Both you and Baby Tommy would dance inside of my mommy tummy!”

“Lob ou.” Baby Tommy peeled up my shirt to say “MWAH” to his unborn sister.

Daisy and Mittens both wandered in just then, the cat riding majestically atop the dog’s back, signaling their reluctant agreement to play nice. The dog padded over to the to rest her doggish head on the covers to supervise the babies and mommy, Mittens’ tail flitting about as she watched over her cattish domain.

MEOW Mittens said, getting onto the bed and hopping up on top of Baby Violet Marie, curling up into a ball and then falling asleep.

PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR

“Good kitty,” Baby Tommy giggled, reaching up to pet at her fluffy fur and getting a more violent purr out of the motherly cat. “Mommy? Baa bee Vii wet Mawie dollie?”

“Are you asking me if Baby Violet Marie will get her very own special dollie friend?” I asked him, cooing as he showed me his own dollie. “You want to know something, you can ask Elizabeth and Katie next time you see them, alright?”

“Yay yay!” he cheered, curling up next to his baby sister with his mini me in his arm. “Yay yay!”

“Now, do riddle me this- just how on earth did you make your way up the stairs?” I asked them in a firm tone of voice. “You know of the rules.”

“Wan’ snuggies wif mommy!” Baby Tommy tried to win me over with an adorable expression on his baby face.

“Next time, find a responsible adults to carry you up the stairs!” I chided them. “I don’t want you to get any baby booboos!”

“Yes mommy” and “Yes Mama Wen Wen” were the babies’ only responses before they both slipped off to sleep.

“Sleep now you two, and dream sweet babies dreams,” I hummed, looking up as Elizabeth wandered in, Elle tight in her arms as she came over and crawled under the blankets.

“Mommy, the lake is having a First Aid day,” she explained in a quiet meep. “CPR and stuff. Katie and I really want to go- can we? Please?”

“Well, I don’t have a problem with it, but you will need to get your father’s seal of approval and make sure that Isabelle is on board too, alright?” I told her with a quiet hum as she settled her ear on top of Baby Violet Marie. “Anyway, why do you want to take a first aid course?”

Elizabeth shot me an incredulous look at my (apparently) stupid question.

“In case something happens to my family…?” She trailed off, implying that I was stupid for not thinking about that possibility.

“Elizabeth.” The tone in my voice made her meep before sitting up, oddly reminding me much like a meerkat. “Never use that tone of voice with me. Do you understand me?”

“Yes mommy, sorry mommy,” she groveled before looking up as my husband came into the master bedroom, with Katie and Jing cradled lovingly in his strong arms.

“There’s the rest of my family!” he chortled, setting Katie down and watching fondly as she and Jing joined the huddled up cuddle farm. “Isabelle ran out to grab dinner- I think dinner in bed is called for tonight!”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

#Real person fiction (RPF) #Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL) #Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down’s Syndrome #Baby Violet Marie #Neonatal death #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

[deck16]

This is a continuation of the campaign journal of Adventures in Lyria. The first entry is here and you can see all entries here.

Act 7: Helicalis

The party pursue several leads in Helicalis, some more fruitful than others.

I'm going to diverge from convention here and document things by "quest-chain" rather than chronologically. In reality, the PCs were accomplishing various things interleaved with one another. The events in this Act took about twenty sessions to get through.

Miscellaneous Things

These are isolated events or dead-end quest chains that, while fun and sometimes profitable, didn't really help the heroes' main goals.

Cyrus and Xanaphia. Xanaphia (first seen Act 1) was with the group on and off during their Helicalis adventures. Her abrasive nature drove most away. Not Cyrus, though, who seemed to enjoy her sarcastic and cattish remarks and would often join in to team up on others. The two grew closer during their adventures in Helicalis and even went on some dates -- one involving a flight around the city with her first use of a flying Wild Shape.

Ezekial and Ziffy. Due to player absence, Ezekial missed out on the dinner with Lady Xilo at the end of the previous act. This was rationalised as him splitting off from the group to help survivors of the wizard attack right before it. In the course of this, he found his way to the Temple of Water, a place for healing run by the eladrin Ziffy Davia. Ziffy was immediately impressed by his exotic nature and his heroism. The two would become friendly and eventually romantically entwined.

Gavelsmack. Seeking someone to represent them legally, the heroes sought out a kenku lawyer called Gavelsmack. Gavelsmack was short-term imprisoned for being an "ambulance chaser" lawyer at the Temple of Water, offering legal aid to victims of the wizard attack. The heroes first had to get Gavelsmack's speaking-aid crystal from the temple, while being pursued by Oath of Ancients paladins (seen in the previous act) out to get Ezekial.

The heroes would work with the fast-talking Gavelsmack for a while, visit his crowded household in the kenku district, and hear his tragic tale of having to work his feathers off to take in dozens of nieces and nephews after an accident left them parent-less. Ultimately his high prices were too steep for the heroes. But Flutter did at least get one of Gavelsmack's older speaking-aid crystals (more info in the Player Spotlight here).

Oath of Ancients Paladins. These zealous eladrin knights did not appreciate the fiend-blooded tiefling Ezekial in their city, and they didn't particularly like his outsider buddies either. More than once they would clash with the heroes. The feud ended when an official contest was announced -- a mix of duelling and debate! The paladins lost, and were honour-bound to stop their antagonism. Over time, as the heroes did more heroic things in Helicalis, the paladins would come to be friendly with them.

There was a memorable moment in the combat duel. Right before it started, Xanaphia observed that the paladins would likely heavily attack Flutter as he was a healer, a wizard, and also a soft target. The group agreed that it was a concern. But as combat started, all of Flutter's friends ran off in different directions (Cyrus even went up using magic), leaving the poor bird to get summarily trounced.

Salvius and the Savings. On the heroes' request, Marcus Salvius (first seen Act 3) brought their monetary savings to Helicalis. He and his comrade Antony were attacked by quicklings, and the heroes had to minimise losses to their treasure by keeping the creatures away as they escorted the money-laden men to the safety of the Helicalis gates.

The Radiant Ghost. People disappeared during the wizard attack (mentioned earlier) were reappearing. This was good -- they hadn't been abducted after all -- but some were appearing in strange locations, and some were missing. To find them, the heroes partnered up with a talking Feywild dog called Too Much, who could sniff things on the Ethereal Plane. Too Much guided the heroes to a long-lost dungeon. The victims had been abducted by phase spiders, and were ultimately saved by the heroes, though careless party-splitting nearly led to some deaths by phase spider poison. Also in the dungeon were some long-lost relics that spoke of a past where kenku lived with now-extinct aarakocra. The heroes defeated a number of shadowy undead, avoided some nasty magical traps, and ultimately faced off against a spell-flinging brightly-lit ghost. Flutter was fascinated by these revelations. He found many treasures in this tomb: from sentimental things like crystals that recorded visions of old cities; to a spellbook containing spells themed around sun and light, including his new-favourite cantrip focus light.

Cyrus used his chaotic touch to disrupt an altar in the dungeon to gain some of its powers for himself. Flutter was furious because he expressly asked Cyrus not to destroy anything.

Know Thy Enemy. Ezekial's cursed sword had been providing him with dream-visions of interacting with his ancestors. His grandfather had been killed by a man known as Magnus Strabo, and advised Zeke to learn what he could about this man to exact revenge. Zeke did so, and spoke to Salvius about him. Zeke learned some history and even duelled Antony who attempted to fight in the dexterous and flourish-laden style that he believed Strabo would use.

They Lustre On. The party for a long time had been mindful that they should stock up on diamonds so that Garo could cast revivify if needed. Xanaphia -- bad influence as she was -- suggested to the less principled heroes that they rob a jewellery store that she had scoped out. The robbery went badly: the heroes fought not only with the store's guard but also a number of magically-enchanted store mannequins that came to life. Luckily, with all this serving as an excellent distraction, Xanaphia used Wild Shape to steal a few diamonds from the back room.

Legend Lore. Ziffy suggested to Ezekial that they use legend lore to learn about his sword. She contacted the satyr Cici Rega, who had been the MC at the paladin duel, to make the spell more theatrical. The party used Ziffy's spell scroll and played back history themselves, acting in the role of historic figures. (Each player took the role of a historical character, and were given instructions on motivations, and the scene was let to play out.) They witnessed a key moment in history from centuries past. A war had ended, and the leaders of two allied nations met. Ancus Superbus (the last Emperor of Lyria) met with Numa Zarken (leader of the tiefling nation of Nova Laconia) in Numa's home. Ancus thanked Numa for being a stalwart ally. He then left: betrayal was in his heart!

Ancus had secured peace with a more powerful defeated enemy -- the Theocratic States -- and the price of that peace was disenfranchisement of the fiend-blooded tieflings and their nation. Waiting outside was Lars Cooke, a high-ranking member of the Theocratic States, who had allowed Ancus this last goodbye to a friend. Lars entered Numa's home, killed him in front of his pregnant wife (actual rolled combat, though quite one-sided), and shattered his heirloom sword into pieces. All this further fuelled Ezekial's desire for revenge against the people that wronged his ancestors.

Snooping in Aurelia Xilo's Manor

The heroes had different opinions about Cyrus' patron Lady Xilo (more info Act 3). Myra was the most suspicious, and she led the heroes on a few expeditions snooping around Xilo's manor, where they were staying, expressly defying instructions to keep out of certain areas.

Upstairs. Myra was temporarily stymied by a lack of lockpicks, but once that was overcome, she and the other heroes found some curious things upstairs in Lady's Xilo's manor. They discovered a teal pyramid and various material-plane outfits, putting to real question the authenticity of the "wizard attack" (at the end of Act 6). They also discovered a permanent teleportation circle, a recorded sigil sequence for it, and (amongst other things) a scroll to use it.

Pocket Dimension. Using the scroll, the sigil, and the circle; the party ventured into a pocket dimension. They arrived at a desolate, rocky shore; devoid of much except for a solitary aaracokra meditating on the beach.

Speaking with him, they learnt a lot. His name was Velthreek, a servant of Lady Xilo. Much like Cyrus, he had learned to wield chaotic wild magic. His final task was to use his wild magic to disrupt an aarakocran "super-weapon" that could control the power of the sun. He succeeded, but in doing so, the chaotic magics addled his mind, filling it with pain and fear. Now he meditated here, not needing food or drink or sleep due to the pocket dimension's reality, constantly casting antimagic field to quell the symptoms, hoping they will fade in time. The party's best guess was that he had been here for centuries or more. Most found all this disturbing, but Cyrus was unflappable in his devotion to Xilo, certain they didn't have the whole truth.

Velthreek also called himself eladrin, leading the heroes to speculate that eladrin weren't always elf-like. On leaving the dimension, the party fought with Velthreek's familiar. As it could not be with Velthreek due to the anti-magic field, the poor thing's centuries-long loneliness had morphed it into something monstrous.

You're on the coast. The sun peeks over the horizon, out to sea, painting a light scattering of high-altitude clouds with twilight hues. The coast itself is rocky, gravely, with wave-smoothed stone. Just out of reach of the languid waves is a knee-high forest of plants. Tiny, succulent things which gather around pools of trapped tide, ranging from only an inch tall to a foot or two. Further inland, nothing but a barren plain of glassy black rock and dark, ashy soil. Far beyond that, lit by the sun, a conical mountain.

Criminal Kenku Chaos

It all started with Myra wanting lockpicks to snoop about Lady Xilo's house. So she and Flutter went looking for a kenku thieves' guild they had heard about. And then, one thing led to another...

Criminal Kenku, Cold Killer. Myra and Flutter solicit rumours of larcenist kenku to narrow down their likely base of operations. They find it, work their way inside with some bravado, and meet Tumbleclick. He's the head of an all-kenku thieves guild. Trying to ingratiate themselves so they can procures some thieves' tools, the pair accept the guild trial challenge. Myra applies a little too much violence during the challenge, and the guild turns on them! As most of the guild's rank-and-file converge to attack, Flutter freezes them with a cold of cold. Tumbleclick and his brutish lieutenant escape! The pair at least snag some lockpicks and a few minor magical items perfect for a thief.

Flutter Fired. The thieves' guild full of frozen kenku was found. Word got around. Helicalis is full of kenku, but not full of red-headed outspoken humans! Tarospur, Flutter's boss, put two and two together and figured out Flutter was the one who froze so many thieves. Not willing to have an extra-judicial killer on staff, Tarospur fired the poor bird. But he did offer to protect Flutter from further investigation, which Flutter took. Poor Flutter was not happy about things: not only had he killed a dozen or so kenku in a brutally traumatic way, but he had lost his long-time job. These outsiders had turned his life upside-down!

Tarospur stares at you for a moment with a grim look on his face. He then speaks. Quietly, leaning forward. "You froze half-a-dozen kenku to death? What were you thinking?" "Have these outsiders turned you--" He stops suddenly, shaking his head. "I don't want to know. It's better if I don't know. You have two options from here, Flutter." "Option one: you resign, and I do what I can to make sure this doesn't follow you further." He voice becomes shaky, "I should never have assigned you that task. I'll wear what I have to." "Option two: there's an investigation. And you know well enough the powers of zone of truth."

The Warehouse Mimic. Tumbleclick wanted revenge. A trap was set for the heroes: false rumours were spread about a warehouse being another thieves' guild base. The warehouse was empty and abandoned, save for a mimic that appeared as a treasure chest, and a trap designed to set off stinking cloud just as the mimic was triggered. The heroes noticed and disarmed the gas trap. But they fell for the mimic. Without the gas set off at the same time it was not too difficult to defeat.

Everyone's a Critic. The heroes performed a play for the city (this is detailed below). Tumbleclick attacked during it! As an arcane trickster, he used invisibility to easily sneak backstage. He sneak-attacked Myra with a poisoned dagger, doing massive damage. The two tussled briefly. Tumbleclick couldn't finish the job, and fled while he still could. The play still carried on!

The Real Kenku Thieves Guild. Furious at Tumbleclick, the heroes managed to track him down to his guild's main base of operations: a secret lair hidden amongst shops. The party knew the lair was here somewhere, but it took them quite a bit of snooping -- and good luck in spotting Tumbleclick's lieutenant -- to find a way inside.

Once inside it wasn't long before battle kicked off. The thieves lay in wait for the final confrontation. Unfortunately, Flutter had split off from the party, and was lost in the secret passages linking the shops to the hideout. He could hear the battle through the thin interior walls but could not figure out how to get in, and was he wasn't strong enough to force his way in. So he used magic, creating an opening with a lightning bolt, very narrowly missing Ezekial and Myra and hitting a pair of thieves. (Since we were using Roll20 with line-of-sight it truly was a blind shot for Flutter's player.) It was a brutal battle, and Flutter's magic destroyed much of the inner structure. Sadly, Tumbleclick escaped again, though his guild was in complete ruins now.

A screenshot from Flutter's player, a round or two after Flutter busted through the wall to join the fight with Tumbleclick. Another player has embellished the scene with Roll20's drawing tools. The light-blue wavy lines show the path of Flutter's lightning bolt, including the wall destroyed in the top-left (though not the lightning's victims, as this is a round or two later). There's also a number of frozen-to-death kenku from Flutter's cone of cold; the reason line-of-sight extends through walls on the right is because those walls were destroyed by the cold.

The Play

One of Lady Xilo's ideas had been to perform a play about the situation in the Material Plane, to gather sympathy for the heroes' cause. They were put in contact with Cici Rega, a satyr who could arrange a place to put on the performance, and advertise it to the city's populace.

Performance. The play was an elaborate skill check. The overall goal was to build audience excitement. Many and various rolls were needed, and it depended on the performers and the nature of the performance during each part of the play. Cyrus was the lead play-write. He told a fairly factual story about Marcus Salvius, Celandra, and the werewolf problem; and he used various performance, costume, and magic tricks to enhance the proceedings.

With clever strategy and good rolls the play went exceedingly well. They were the hit of the century! But it wasn't without complications. The owner of the diamond store arrived mid-play, potentially worrying the heroes that they were to be arrested, but their celebrity neutered that threat. Tumbleclick also attacked (see above), but the play carried on without anyone in the audience even realising.

Audience with the Marchioness. The play went so well the heroes were summoned for an audience with Helicalis' ruler, Marchioness Aurula Tanaquill, an unseelie winter eladrin. The Marchioness admitted she had fought against the humans of Cantia, and used lycanthropy as part of that, but the play caused her to regret her more extreme actions.

But before offering aid, she subjected them to interview in a zone of truth. She asked pointed, awkward questions of each hero. The answers satisfied her, and she agreed to order the unseelie fey on Cantia to stand down and no longer help the Cantian rebels spreading lycanthropy. It was tradition that she gift lands in Helicalis, but not wanting the heroes to stay, she instead gifted a magical model-sized house that could grow into the real thing on demand (with some limits). She also contributed ten thousand gold to the heroes' cause.

Lunar Expedition

Lady Xilo put the party in contact with a winter eladrin called Vaticin. A reclusive astronomer, clairvoyant, and artificer, he had devised a magical telescope (the "Distalens") that could peer across the planes and teleport people to and from locations seen.

Meeting Vaticin. Vaticin didn't answer his door. The party heard shouting from inside. They broke in, and found the place infested with devils. Vaticin had mistakenly teleported them in while using his telescope. Vaticin had quickly sealed himself inside a protective magic circle, but was stuck until the heroes could dispatch the fiends (one of which had shape-changed to look like Vaticin).

Ezekial's Vision. Vaticin's home had a large scrying pool, and Ezekial was urged by his sword to trigger a vision in that pool. The party saw Magnus Strabo, Lyrian general, defeat one of Ezekial's ancestors who had led a rebellion against repression. The sword pled for Ezekial to get revenge on Magnus Strabo! (Ezekial would later ask Salvius about Strabo, that is documented above.)

The voice once again speaks in your head. "This pool is a divining font. Let its waters settle and extinguish all lights. Then tap the pool's surface with Asurath. There is something we want to show you." The ripples expand from the point where the blade touches the water's surface. The pool is under-lit with red light, and as the ripples bounce and interfere images begin to form from the interplay of light and darkness. You see a city street, buildings in partial ruin and rubble strewn on the cobbles. Celebrating humanoids cavort down the street -- humanoids with horns, tails, and odd-coloured skin: they are tieflings. They are warriors, but not a regimented army. They gather around a burning building, drinking wine, eating fine foods, and relishing treasures. "My generation rose up against those who laid us low in times past. For nearly a year we exacted retribution, and could not be stopped by Lyrian vexillationes or local Crusaders." You see a battlefield. Bodies litter the field. The defeated have horns, tails, and odd-coloured skin: they are tieflings. Strolling among the fallen are Lyrian soldiers, exhausted, checking the bodies and hauling away any that are not deceased. "It did not last. General Strabo Magnus -- Strabo 'the Great' -- was recalled from abroad with his legions. To our shame, we were not prepared when he finally did arrive." The scene shifts to a blinding red. Hauled into view is a tiefling -- one of the fallen -- nailed brutally to a wooden pole. The view moves, and you see dozens... no hundreds... of these poles. All are grotesquely adorned with captives, along the length of a perfectly straight road that vanishes into the distance. A human male, in the armour of a Lyrian general, observes the scene with a slight smile. "He displayed no clemency. All captives and survivors were given an agonising death along the Ponderosa Way. Executed in a way usually reserved for the most barbaric of foreign invaders." The scene changes, but the man's head stays in view. Except now it is older; where he was nearing thirty he is now at least sixty. The view retreats backward, and you see he is leading columns of Lyrian soldiers toward a cold, rocky coast. Out to sea you can see a dozen or more ships. "We had suspected it may be the case: Strabo Magnus has been recalled, and is headed to Cantia, just as he was recalled to stop me. Ezekial, you must stop him. His wrath will be visited on all Cantians; rebellious or not. You must kill him, to avenge the Zarken name." The ripples settle, and the image fades away; the calm visage of the man is the last to disappear. The red light dims to darkness.

Moon Musings. The heroes spoke to the astronomer about their lycanthropy problem. He mused on the Material Plane moon and its relation to the curse, and then had an idea. He speculated that some areas of the moon were in perpetual shadow, and a soil sample from such a location could have magical properties to combat lycanthropy -- just as the full moon rouses were-beasts, a "moon shadow" could counter them.

"Lycanthropy is very dependent on the moon. As are many natural processes. On the Material Plane, even the seas bend to the moon's placement. The moon represents a unique sort of cyclical, yet steady, change. Less dramatic than the changing seasons." "A full moon does more than illuminate a dark Material Plane night. It is a symbol, laden with magical meaning, much like the material components of spells. This triggers Lycanthropy, in those who have not fully embraced the curse." "To reverse it? You would need the obverse of a full moon... no that's not enough... the observe amplified." He pauses. "I know just the thing. Wait."

Distalens Destroyed. Cyrus sensed the powerful magic in the Distalens. Desirous of the boons that came to him with disrupting powerful magic, he touched the contraption, leading to its spectacular destruction. Vaticin was distraught. I believe the heroes had to offer considerable funds for repairs for Vaticin to even consider associating with them, and Cyrus was denied future access to the chamber unless absolutely necessary. The repair time set things back considerably. Some party members, especially Garo, were not pleased with Cyrus' actions.

Shadow Search. Vaticin trained the heroes on the repaired Distalens. They were taught how to look for areas of perpetual shadow on the moon. After some shifts of searching, such a region was found. Distalens teleportation was not accurate, so an expedition would be needed. (For this, I used a real-moon location called Tsiolkovskiy crater, and used this for the players' map.)

Lunar Expedition. Preparations for the trip were extensive and included things to help with the harsh environment, and spells to help with communication. The moon's surface was scorching hot and radioactive during the day, freezing cold at night. Things worked differently on the moon: no air for thunder or lightning attacks, for example.

And then there were the local creatures: strange and exotic elementals. The worst being a sparse cloud of ionised dust that could transfix the heroes with its scintillating display. The heroes also had to contend with descending into a massive crater: choosing to leap the one-mile descent and rely on Flutter's feather fall to survive.

The sensation of teleporting is surprisingly simple. One moment you're in Vaticin's observatory, the next you're not. But in this new location... your senses are hit all at once. First, you're rendered snow-blind by the sun-lit soil. The next thing you notice is the complete silence; your pulse and breathing seem cacophonous in this total quiet. Then the warmth: the sun-scorched dust radiates heat from below like an oven, and you begin to feel the soles of your feet warm through your shoes. Yet there's no warmth in the air: not in the air you breathe, nor is there a breeze against your skin. Finally, there's a lightness: as if someone has taken all the equipment off your shoulders. After a few moments your eyes adjust and you're better able to take in your surroundings. The land is a barren, rocky, dusty waste of grey; pockmarked with craters great and small. Everything is utterly still. The horizon seems close at hand; there's not much in the way of distant mountains. The sky is pitch black, and if you block out the blinding ground you can just make out stars. The sun hangs low in the sky, and also low is a moon-like disc: a half-circle of blue with swirls of white.

The Cliff of Permanent Shadow. The heroes' destination was an area in the shadow of a cliff which never saw the sun. All they needed was a soil sample from within it. But Cyrus could sense the latent energies stored in the shaded region. He disrupted it, causing a chaotic reaction that headed toward the heroes! Thankfully most had the sense to keep back and damage was minimal.

Cyrus wanted to explore deeper into the region: there was a cave in the cliff. The rest of the party urged they return with the soil samples, not wanting to risk and dangers that were inside. (And they were wise to. A very powerful shadow creature dwelt in the cave, and even if they managed to defeat it, it would've accomplished nothing: there was no treasure, and a pointless combat would grant no XP.)

A scroll of teleportaion circle evacuated the party safely back to Helicalis. Several party members -- Garo and Flutter especially -- were not pleased by Cyrus' actions.

The crater floor in front of you teems with magical energy. It's not artificially-structured energy, like most of the artefacts you've encountered, but rather a natural arrangement built up from stillness; like frost on a still winter's morning, or a mineral crystals in a geode. You can sense that your chaotic touch on this shadowed area would be like a lit candle dropped on a field of alchemist's fire. There's so much to be potentially gained; too: this natural formation teems with more potential chaos than any artefact you've encountered. From your disruptive touch, a singular, erratic spark of rainbow-coloured energy threads its way along the surface into the shadow. Then it splits. And each of these split. All in complete silence. Within a few moments these have build up into a wave-like chain reaction that is heading toward the cliff-face. The colours illuminate the shadowy cliff-wall in a brilliant display. Then, the wave hits, and then reflects, heading back to you.

Forging the Umbralenses. Vaticin wanted to make the party one special lycanthropy-busting lens from the soil. But Garo pressured him to make eleven: one for the party, and ten spares to give away.

Goodbye Helicalis

Farewell Picnic. As a final act before taking the Umbralenses back to the Material Plane, the heroes had a farewell picnic. They said goodbyes to various figures they had met during their time in the Feywild city. Tarospur snuck by to say farewell to Flutter and give him a magical ring that would allow him to disguise amongst Material Plane humanoids. Ziffy Davia said goodbye to Ezekial, urging him to return again. The party then head back to the crossing-point to Cantia.

At this point, tensions were getting high in the party. Mostly aimed at Cyrus. Flutter was furious that Cyrus destroyed things in the aarakocran dungeon. Myra was in disbelief at Cyrus' unquestioning devotion to the suspicious Lady Xilo. And everyone -- especially Garo -- was annoyed at the destruction of the Distalens. However, the party could not deny that Cyrus' efforts were crucial in making the play the massive success that it was.

Player Character Spotlight: Myra Quill

Myra was a sassy, confident human monk with a penchant for kicking arse. Myra joined the party in Act 5 shortly after the death of the player's previous character Kytah.

In combat, Myra was reliable. No flashy smites, or massive area spells; Myra just punched and kicked her way to a rather unassuming victory time and time again. My strongest memory of her in combat was on the streets of Cortona (events yet to come in this chronology) where she would routinely take out one or two ghouls or ghasts every round, slowly but assuredly thinning the undead hordes surrounding the party.

Art: Myra, done by NatPoole98.

Although she wasn't so reliable when she wielded the displacer beast claws, gifted to the party by frog-men in Act Six. These things could teleport Myra on a critical failure, and more than once she had to sprint back to combat after teleporting outside a building, or across the street. Luckily, monks are fast.

Myra did not trust authority. She led investigations into Lady Xilo. And she would (again, in the future) stop a rampaging Felix Spurius from enacting revenge against the children that bullied him.

Myra was fair-minded and even-tempered. Everyone else in the party would clash with peers: Garo versus Ezekial, Cyrus vs Flutter... Myra got on well with everyone. Except maybe Xanaphia. Myra did get on especially well with Flutter. I like to think that's because Myra was the only character who thought to engage with the poor bird -- the other party members thinking too much about quests, chaos magic, or heirloom swords.

Myra's player joined later in the campaign, and had some periods of absence. Myra was always very easy to remove from and return to the plot, but sadly it meant I couldn't reliably plan inclusion of her backstory hooks into the campaign.

#dungeons and dragons #tabletop role-playing game #adventures in lyria

[okamirayne]

hello, i really liked the complexity you gave ino's mom (and the fact you gave her a mom) in the BTB series! can you tell us anything more about her?

Hello there, Anon!

Firstly, super sorry for the late reply. *facepalm* It’s taking me some time to get around to my responses. No kidding, right?  Anyway! I hope this message finds you well during these messed up times.

Ino’s mother! Thankfully I did my research at the time to discover she did indeed have a mother ( Naruto Shippūden Episode #281 ). Though I don’t recall her name ever being dropped, hence taking the creative leeway to name her Sayuri. Here’s her pic pulled from Narutopedia.

I thank you for your interest in the BtB-verse character development with Sayuri. Not much is given about her in canon and for BtB purposes, especially with Ino’s behaviours and issues, I felt it was important to give her some kind of dysfunctional backstory even if it didn’t make it fully into the series.

can you tell us anything more about her?

Sure thing. BtB Sayuri...where to start?

Inoichi met her undercover at a geisha tea-house and Okiya where Sayuri worked during her youth.

From a wealthy family originally, she was indentured into service as a teen (her father gambled away their family’s wealth) and spent those formative years in a highly superficial, cattish, competitive and somewhat vindictive environment in the Okiya (the lodging house/drinking establishment to which a maiko or geisha is affiliated with during her career)

The mother of the house (the "okā-san") who mentored and groomed Sayuri was highly critical and insisted upon stringent rules for all the girls; upon which Sayuri developed several dysfunctional relationships with women, food, men etc that later were inevitably projected onto Ino.

Sayuri loves flowers and among her peers she excelled in ikebana; her love of flowers was one of the many things that Inoichi used to woo her upon visiting the tea-house she worked at (and entertained clients)

Inoichi eventually bought her freedom; something she was both grateful and ashamed of.

She changed shortly into their marriage, seizing back some power by pulling an ice queen aura around herself -- a defense mechanism, as well as a means to forget about her past and carry on as if she’d never been ‘sold’ into service by her family.

She does not speak of her family (mother or father) and has no family outside of the Yamanaka clan -- one of the reasons she became so attached to Naoki

She has an ingrained and unshakeable fear that Inoichi will abandon her (as many ‘patrons’ did back when they promised her the moon and stars -- and more importantly, her freedom as a young woman)

In the past she competed for Inoichi’s attention with her daughter -- a tragic projection of her days in the Okiya...she fortunately changed her ways after the events in UtS

Inoichi’s death has been devastating for her and, like Ino, she isn’t handling it in the most healthiest of ways

Sayuri loves to dance and is a very talented musician. It was one of the many things Inoichi loved about her.

Inoichi taught her some basic ninja training, which she took to quite well -- even using it to defend herself against handsy clients before Inoichi took her away from that life and brought her to Konoha

She shuns the company of other women, due to her painful experiences as a teen, using her Ice Queen persona to keep people at arm’s length -- which is tragic, because beneath all that, she has the capacity for great tenderness inside her...which she exhibited especially when Ino was a baby.

Early in their marriage she used to sing to Inoichi often, as well as dance and play the shamisen for him...this changed shortly after, as she tried to distance herself from what she considered a shameful and painful past.

Her attempts to “mould” Ino into a lady and secure her daughter a match were her misguided attempts to ensure Ino never had to worry about her security later in life.

Sayuri loves honey but her disordered eating often had her shunning anything sweet -- which is what led to Inoichi often sneaking out to chow down on desserts....inadvertently leading to Sayuri to accuse him of having affairs....(little did she know these secret loves were forbidden confectionery!)

She does not particularly like the colour pink, though she took great pleasure in dressing Ino up as a child

She disapproves of immodest dressing (hence her clashing with Ino on many occasions)

She regrets many things about how her marriage went and it pains her she won’t have the chance to do things over again

Hope this gives some insight into her characterization in the BtB-verse, luv! Thank you for the interesting question. Always makes me smile to return to these characters. <3 Stay safe and well!

#BtB Asks #btb ask #btbverse #BTB verse #BtB series #okami-rayne #break to breathe shikaneji #break to breathe characterisation #characterisation #ino yamanaka #sayuri yamanaka

[thenovelartist]

Disruptor Designer and her Model, day 28

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28. Tangled

Things were hectic in the Dupain-Cheng household. Very insanely so. Marinette’s new line was coming out. With the investors firmly in place—a blessing after the whole Audrey debacle—and her last line a very large success, she designed a new one for the new season. She also split her line into two, calling the women’s side “Ladybug” and the men’s “Chat Noir”. It was a very striking branding that was able to relate to her audience really well, especially since Chat Noir took off.

Though he tried to stay strictly the business manager for Ladybug, Adrien found himself in the spotlight so often that he somehow found himself rebranded as the men’s version of Ladybug. He was very active on social media as well as becoming a video creator. He didn’t post videos often, only once a week. His topics focused on fashion, particularly looking professional, but he also posted often about photography and looking your best in pictures. He also threw in flirting tips on occasion, which always ended up being the stars of his videos. While his channel was aimed more toward men, he also gained a large female audience, too.

Marinette wasn’t surprised. “You’re a looker, kitty.”

He chuckled. “As long as the one woman in my life thinks so, I’ll be happy.”

Marinette was proud to say they had been a very lucky duo, albeit a very busy one. Marinette knew they’d have to slow down at some point, but that point was not yet. However, they did hire an editor to take over all their video editing, which allowed Adrien to be free to be Chat Noir as well as balance all the business side of their endeavors while Marinette was always busy sewing, filming, or designing.

And it was because of that insanity that they realized they completely missed their first anniversary.

“I cannot believe we forgot,” Adrien said as he stared at the calendar.

“Honestly,” Marinette said. “I can believe I could. I could even believe you might. That both of us missed it…”

“I feel ashamed.”

“Yeah.”

“You know we’re gonna have to make up for it.”

“When?” Marinette challenged. “Because we have the business deals to iron out then the launch of the new line then the event we organized for the investors—”

“Now,” Adrien said. “We have three days next week we have nothing to do. Let’s drop everything and leave.”

Marinette looked at him wide eyed. “But… I was planning to do videos—”

“Screw it,” Adrien said. “Let’s screw it. If you don’t post a video, whatever. Tell your fans you’re busy.”

“With what?”

“Me.”

Marinette’s expression fell, and Adrien waggled his brows at her.

“Really,” Marinette flatly challenged.

“I’m serious,” he said. “We could really use the break.”

Marinette quirked a brow. “So… are we just gonna stay home and do nothing?”

“Nope,” Adrien said. “Let’s travel somewhere and do something. Even if we spend a day in a hotel room, we are not in our house that doubles as an office. Let’s just… go. Somewhere. Anywhere. I don’t care. Let’s get away for a few days and enjoy a late anniversary.”

Marinette looked at her husband. “You aren’t gonna let this go, are you?”

“No.”

There was a pause, but Marinette surrendered with a sigh. She couldn’t deny that a vacation sounded nice. “Then surprise me.”

His smile turned cattish. “With pleasure.”

…

Adrien had everything booked within a day, and soon enough, they were traveling out of France to another country that was far away from their commitments and their work and the hectic chaos that was their life.

They got to their hotel later than expected, but that was because they took a touristy detour and paused to take pictures. They had no commitments, after all. They didn’t have anything planned or anywhere to be. It was their late anniversary, and Marinette was plenty glad to enjoy it, even if it was short and there was a table load of work to do when they got home.

But they could think about that later.

When they got into their room, they dropped their luggage and then collapsed on the bed. One that was surprisingly plush.

“I don’t wanna move,” Marinette mentioned.

“Neither do I,” Adrien agreed.

So, they didn’t. The most they did was strip out of their clothes to their underwear and crawl into bed. Somehow, half an hour later, they ended up with a room service tray with dessert only on it. They should probably have eaten dinner…

But it was their anniversary, so why not?

“You were right,” Marinette admitted, scooping a spoonful of the ice cream they had ordered. “This was a fantastic idea.”

“What part?” Adrien asked.

“Coming out here and doing nothing.”

Adrien chuckled. “I told you so,” he said, tapping her nose playfully.

Marinette frowned at the sticky feeling on her nose. “Did you put whipped cream on my nose?” she said, smile unable to be contained.

His smile grew smug. “Quite possibly. You want me to clean it off?”

Marinette didn’t get the chance to answer. He reached out around her waist and pulled her down into bed with him, changing their positions so that he was now the one hovering over. She was laughing, her heart fluttering while Adrien leaned over to lick the cream off her nose.

“What am I going to do with you?” she teased. It was funny to think that not so long ago, she would have been embarrassed by his actions. And that was even after they were married. It had taken them a while to be fully comfortable around each other. But now…

A year into their marriage, and Marinette was more than comfortable with his kissy-teasing or how it turned easily into something more sensual. Or how that she now fully expected kissy-teasing to turn into something sensual. Like how Adrien’s little “let me lick that whipped cream off your nose” turned into him carefully laying kisses on her cheeks, his arms slowly wrapping around her to pull her close.

She hummed, happily settling in his embrace.

“We still have ice cream that’s going to melt,” Marinette commented, trying to hold it together while she melted under his ministrations.

“I have better things on my mind than ice cream,” he said, squeezing her tightly.

“But maybe I want it.”

He paused his ministrations to look down at her. “Well, then, I seem to be failing at my job.”

Her heart was pounding, because she knew that look in his eye. And the thought of getting tangled up with him, her wonderfully bare-chested husband with his disheveled hair that she’d contributed to making and a lopsided smile that melted her heart every time, was enough to make her forget about the ice cream completely. “What job?” she challenged, pretending she wasn’t melting.

“Making you forget about everything other than me.”

She smirked. So much for the ice cream.

Oh well.

“You’re right,” she purred, reaching up to wrap her arms over his neck and pull him in close, “you’re failing so far. Would you like to try again?”

He made a little happy noise in the back of his throat, one that went straight to her gut. “With pleasure, my lady.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladrien june 2019 #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #fluff #romance

[hobiheavenly]

Karma’s Cravings pt.4 (MYG)

✧ Min Yoongi x Reader

✧ Multichapter, Coffee Shop AU, E2L

✧ Warnings: multiple orgasms, cunnilingus (female receiving), penetration, slight dirty talk, spanking, creampie

✧ Word Count: 5k

✧ Summary: Your life is going idyllically with your business with the exception of having to work with Min Yoongi who disapproves of your comercial tactics. but when one day a medium tells you he is to be the love of your life you are quick to shut her down but running away from fate can come with cause consequences.

✧ A/N: I AM INCREDIBLY SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE!! I wasn’t really feeling very well and my life has been a constant mess. every time I wangted to write word wouldnt come out. And truly i rather write something that makes me happy rather than something half assed, you all deserve better than that. So finally after a long time i give you the maybe last chapter of the story.

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter

The smell of a fresh batch of cookies flooded the store on that crisp Friday morning. You had given the new name Yoongi had christened them and were now a hit! After “the incident” (by incident you mean the night Yoongi had fucked you real good on your countertop), the week was a series of successful and unfortunate events. 

Successful on the count that everything was selling well. Business was booming as usual and you and Seokjin had your hands full with the store. To the point that you had to increase the staff and add more people.

Unfortunate on the count that you just couldn't take off your mind that Valentines Day night where you had fucked one and only person you had swore never to have feelings for, Min Yoongi.

Every night was a restless night, with hot vivid images that just wouldn’t let you sleep. You remembered that night for the rest of the week and was now menacing to leave you sleepless. Every time you close your eyes, those images came rolling back and you just couldn't take them away. The hot breaths, the moans, every kiss and movement etched into your mind. But you didn't just think about the actions of that night, you also imagined Yoongi in different ways. Different situations. Different kisses. Different positions that just made your legs weak just thinking about it.

When you came to work that Monday, Yoongi passed by the store as if you were just invisible. The nerve of that guy! How in the world can he act so cool and calm while you desperately wanted to throw yourself to his arms? Every time you saw him, you just wanted to have the feeling of his lips on top of yours and repeat the experience. But maybe this was for the best. An affair with someone he has a contract with could be risky and prejudicially wrong. "BUT STILL!" You thought while taking the freshly baked cookies out of the oven "The least he can do is send me some flowers, a note, or something like that! Comes to show you! Men are complete idiots!"

“Seokjin, I’m taking my break!” You announced to your business partner who was busy teaching one of the new hires, a cute college guy called Park Jimin, how to work the French press coffee machine.

“Will you actually take a break or are going to coop yourself up in the office?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow.

“I do what I want, dad!” You yell from your office door.

“Well sorry Ms. Independent” your friend joked around pulling air quotes at the nickname he was pulling at you, “Miss Self Sufficient!”

“How about you keep your distance...from my life!”

“Nope, see you ruined the joke! Now it doesn’t go well” you roll your eyes as you entered your office, Seokjin following behind so he could continue pestering you. There are days where you truly ask yourself how is it you became friends with him but you knew deep down you loved the man like your brother. He was the one who encouraged your endeavors and even gave you the courage to stand up to your parents. It’s true you loved the guy, but days like this you wish he would mind his beeswax! “Okay ____, you got something going on, there’s a glint in your eyes! A certain mischievous glint…You got fucked didn’t you?” Madame Karma ain’t got nothing on Kim Seokjin’s ability of deduction. You drop your jaw in surprise not a word coming out. “Your skin looks brighter and replenished. I know I have those moments when my man and I…”

“Seokjin as much as I love to hear your sexcapades with Namjoon...I really don’t. So get to the point and tell me what you want”

Your friend throws a disgusted face and, ever the dramatically diva he always was, he scoffed, “Okay first of all YOU WISH YOU GOT DICK THAT GOOD! Second, I just wanna know what’s going on with you. Who’s the lucky asshole that got to swim in your waters? You haven’t to give me the juicy deets and that is a sin!”

“Oh you wouldn’t believe me if I tell you so we can just leave the conversation there” You go to your desk waiting for your computer to reboot. A normal person wouldn’t pry, a normal person would respect your boundaries and the walls you clearly held up high and stop, but not Seokjin. Once curiosity got the best of him he was stuck to the idea till it was out.

“All right I’ll tell you...but this conversation doesn’t leave the room!” You know you’re asking too much. Seokjin was always a blabber mouth and by this afternoon, nay, by the minute the words escaped your mouth he would tell Namjoon about it someway or some how. But at this point, your emotions were so pent up that you didn’t really give a damn. “It’s Min Yoongi”

“YOU HAD SEX WITH THE EVIL DWARF!?” Your friends eyes open like dinner plates as you shush his screeching voice.

“I SWEAR TO G O D SEOKJIN!! Please shut the fuck up before I swat you with a baking pan”

“But you hate him! You said yourself the informal clone master has too much hate and evil inside to even know what true feelings!” You tell him all the story of what had transpired the night of the party his eyes looking more and more surprised at each detail. “By god… he dicked you good didn’t he?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, yes! Best sex I’ve had in a long time. But the idiot hasn’t even texted me or stopped by or even given me eye contact and avoids me like a freaking plague! As if that were any help to my self esteem!”

Seokjin paced himself around the room, the sheer amount of disbelief looking at you every so often as if you were an alien. He would open his mouth to try to make a snarky remark but he was just speechless.

The slam of your hand awakens him from his state of confusion. “Can you stop!? I had sex with Yoongi, but it was just a one time thing and it’s not like we are escaping to the sunset. They guy is sort of hot and we got some steam out. That’s it. Nothing else will happen after that”

Suddenly, your computer dings alerting you of an email you just received. Different people liked to send orders of the cookies they wanted so through email so you had developed one as well as numerous social media accounts (trying to get with the times meant being available everywhere the millennial mind could think of). You saw one email that made YOUR eyes wide open like plates this time. There was an email from Yoongi!

"Meet me at my office after work" was all the message said.

Seokjin came up behind you and saw the email. His imminent cattish smirk really made you question whether it was right to swat his face. God knows you love your friends but they just loved being in your business more than they should. “A man of words I see” He snorts.

You grew angry and impatient. More impatient than anything. "No hello? No how are you? This guy has as much sensibility as a cucumber!" You thought angrily.

But as angry as it felt you couldn’t deny that you would be willing to repeat the experience. As much as you know it was a bad idea, your body had been yearning to feel him again and the sheer thought of the memory of the events made your body turn into fire automatically.

Even still, you had to be real with yourself. You had been the one who pulled away from him. Was he even interested in being with you after that? How would that even work? Did you kill off any sparkle of hope by him pushing away? A thousand thoughts running in your mind that you were bound to short circuit at any moment. Seokjin saw this and immediately interjected.

“What are you still doing here? Get yourself some dick!”

“Okay you need to stop. He wrote to my business email so if I were to make any guesses he must be wanting to talk about the sales of the month or scold me about the mannequins or the name of the cookies. He’s just that serious about his job I doubt that he would want anything past that”

You kept telling yourself that as a preservation method. Denial made it easier to overcome the situation, knowing you didn’t stand much of a chance made it easier to come to terms with the reality. You just needed to think of him as the grouchy boss he has always been.

Your best friend looked at you with a total amount of disbelief but choose to leave the topic for your own peace. The moment he walked away from the room you knew he was bound to tell his boyfriend the fresh gossip, but you felt assured knowing well that Namjoon would probably tell Seokjin to leave you be. But knowing Seokjin you knew that even when his boyfriend shot him down he would still tell someone else.

After work you went to Yoongi’s office and as usual he was the last one there. It was a little late but you knew that it didn't matter to this "Informal Clone". If this would have been 2 weeks ago you would scoff at him and be annoyed at the thought of having to be in front of him at all. Now the situation has changed. The emotions had changed. You mentally scolded yourself for being nervous. This was still Min Yoongi, the man who would scowl 75% of the time and yell at you for not abiding to his orders. Nothing has changed. Right?

You walked inside his office and there he was, all formal in his usual suit and tie looking at papers on his desk shifting his  gaze to his laptop at certain moments. “Close the door behind you” Yoongi said without even looking at you. You didn’t think much into it so you did as you were told. As you turn around, Yoongi closed his laptop and looked directly at you. The dark chocolate eyes sending a gaze that spread chills all over your body.

“You wanted to see me?” You said, your voice begrudgingly nervous.

“Listen, we need to discuss some personal things. But first I’d like to know how your week has been?”

The sudden odd question threw you out of balance. It was odd of him to make small talk, he was known to hate that type of thing. “Well I have been very busy with work but somehow I get the feeling that something is wrong.”

“How is that so?” He pulls himself forward demonstrating his full interest and attention. 

“Well first of all the stove has been giving me problems. And that Stove is brand new! The washing machine broke down and I can't get a new one. I lost the key to my house,...And I have been having these weird dreams...”

"About you and they wont let me sleep!" You thought.

“Well I had a worse week” Yoongi got up and started to walk to you “My home computer broke down and I had a bunch of documents there, I lost my key too, the neighbor's dog doesn't let me sleep, some kid must have left a red crayon on the washing machine of the store cause now I have pink underwear!”

The last comment made you chuckle. Somehow the idea of Yoongi in pink underwear sounded cute but your mind was quick to transform cute into sexual. You brushed away the thoughts keeping a serious face the entire time. “Well at least you didn't have weird dreams” you tried to smile, although very weakly. The look on his eyes looked deadly, like he wanted to eat you alive and you were just a poor little fawn about to be eaten by the bad wolf.

“Oh I had dreams alright, but they weren't weird at all” Yoongi was standing right in front of you at this point, caging you in behind the door, when he added speaking close to your ear in a hushed deep voice  “More like Erotic.”

His deep masculine voice did nothing to calm your already excited mind. You felt a shiver run through your spine as Yoongi grabbed your chin and looked at you deeply into eyes, his deep brown eyes filled with a dark mixture that looked like melted chocolate fondue. The simple contact of his hand on your skin made all the images flood back to your mind.

“And do you want to know the star of my dreams?” he asked her seductively.

“Kim HyunA?”

Yoongi made a tsk sound and got closer to your face, almost hovering above you ask he whispered “You”

“I think that makes two of us” you admitted, “you were a 18th century pirate”

“And I took you on my ship”

“Because you kidnapped me” the oxygen was leaving your lungs at an alarming rate. The overwhelming feeling of excitement and anticipation making you audibly gulp.

“I cut your dress with my knife”

“I had nothing else to wear”

“And I made love to you”

“Every time you could”

“Which was all the time. Till we were left with no more energy” Yoongi was dangerously close. You needed space to think, but everything about his was intoxicating “I think this means something”

“What do you mean?” Your brain was a mess at this point. No coherent thought ran through your mind. Your instinct was telling you to run, your libido was telling you to stay and repeat what apparently both of you have been yearning. But your brain was stuck, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, you waited for Yoongi to speak once more.

“You have been having bad luck and so have I, we both have been facing these dreams. I think what Madame Karma said was right”

“But I thought you said you didn't believe in curses” you looked at him in a deep state of confusion. 

“But these dreams must mean something” 

“Yoongi, they are just dreams!”

“Very great dreams” He gave her a very sexy smile. Oh how you hated his ability to melt you with his smile! Why were you like this?

“I won't say they weren't! We both know they were! What I'm trying to say is that let’s not get carried away. I mean, you and I are completely different. How can I know that a relationship with you is good? You're an Informal Clone for heaven's sake!”

“What's that?” he looked puzzled at his quirky nickname making you remember that you had actually been calling him that nickname behind his back for years.

“Informal Clone is what I call all those business men that come into my shop and are always self absorbed, so serious, and stuck on their own work! Every time I see you, you are always wearing a suit and you never even take a break from your work. Live life, man! I think you are such a workaholic that you don't even look at the simple things”

“So that's what you think of me” Yoongi’s face was indecipherable looked down and suddenly looked up “what if I can prove to you that I am not such an Informal Clone like you think I am.”

“Yoongi, you are one! I bet you don't even know how my eyes look!” You closed them in that second trying to get him to decipher that on his own.

“You have huge eyes like two big crystals that shine like the sky in a hot spring day after a great storm” He said softly.

Your eyes opened widely and looked at him with complete sock. It was surprising to witness him make those types of commentaries about you in general let alone your eyes.

“You seem surprised” Yoongi said, a proud smirk appeared on his face demonstrating his happiness over your reaction.

“Yes, well, I never thought you had actually looked into my eyes”

“I told you I wasn't all "Informal Clone"! Listen I know that you and I have had our differences. And I seriously thought this through many times thinking of other ways to go about this, but let's say that this so called "curse" is true. It wouldn't hurt us to see if this curse is real or not. Think of it as a trial run if you will”

“So you are proposing me to have a relationship to see if this curse is real? You mean as a couple?”

“Well of course we will do the things couples do” Yoongi got closer to you and graced the skin of your neck with his nose “like kissing, touching…and of course...there's the sex”

“I suppose I should accept. This won’t harm us more than what we already are.”

“So what do you say?”

“I agree. And we can start right away. And by right away, I mean I need to fuck you right away” you smiled seductively as he soon got closer to your lips.

“As you wish” Yoongi whispered as he took possession of you lips. The moment you felt him on you it’s like a curse had been lifted, like you were dying of thirst and Yoongi was the elixir to take away your pains. When you had traced this idea in your head during one of the many sleepless nights you had, you had expected a sweet kiss, something along the more romantic lines. What you got instead was hunger, a kiss so passionate it took your breath away. It was needy, it was fire, it was desperate and more than anything it was reassuring.

Reassuring in the way that it establishes a point in your mind. As he kissed you passionately, Yoongi was making sure that you knew, that you were able to feel, that those sweet lips of yours belonged to him now. And he wasn’t one to let them get away a second time. You wrapped your arms around the office man’s neck pressing your body against him and throwing your head back to deepen your long kiss. Your fingers go through his hair so eager to feel his blonde whitish hair between them.

Your full back was now pushed to the door, your body feeling the delicious and light pressure Yoongi’s body on yours. Rapidly, the both of you took of your clothes with a quick pace it almost seemed they were on fire.

“You don't know how long I have wanted this. It was pure torture to see you every day and not go and kiss you and feel your delicious creamy body in my hands ” Yoongi kissed every centimeter of your skin as he pushed your bra aside, “you taste so sweet, like sugar.”

“It’s all yours for the taking. And by the way that makes two of us” you pushed yourself against him so he could have more access to your full breasts. He succled them tenderly even when deep inside Yoongi only wanted to ravish them. But he was a patient man. He didn’t want things to be rushed for you, even when the ever growing erection in his pants seemed to contradict his thoughts. His tongue brushed against your nipple as one hand teased the other breast while his free hand was working on how to take off your pants.

You never seemed to have a fixation for having someone suck off your breasts but good lord if his tongue didn’t work wonders on you. He didn’t suck too tightly, just enough to send waves of pleasure that created a pool in your already moistened panties.

Yoongi’s focus on your tits didn’t last long, his tongue going further down on your body slithering like a snake. He knelt down in front of you and swiftly pulled your pants and underwear down exposing your very wet cunt.

“Look how messy you are for me, I truly missed your taste” Yoongi takes one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder while leaving little kitty licks on your thigh, “and lucky for you… I’m very hungry”

His tongue lashed against your entrance every lick producing a moan to escape from your lips. Every grace producing a tremble in your core that spread to every inch of your body. The sensations his tongue produced as he traced circles and flicked on your clit had you trembling almost losing your balance. This didn’t stop Yoongi, if anything it incentivized him to continue till he drove you wild. He held you firmly with his hands and continued the sinful tasting of your pussy. Your body was a shrine and he was kneeling down to profess adoration to the shape of your curves.

You could feel the edge coming, the waves of pleasure increasing and drawing near a tidal wave of feelings inside you. your lover could also feel it by the incessant clenching of your cunt to which he suddenly stopped his actions and swiftly got up and carried you, legs spread apart on his hips.

“Oh no baby, you’re not cumming if it’s not on my fucking cock”

This caused you to whine, automatically missing the feeling. Your fingers tried to finish the job causing him to spank you in your ass. An uncontrolled moan came out of your mouth, the sting being unexpectedly enjoyable. Truly being with Yoongi was a whole new world of wonders you never knew about your own body.

“You want to see if my desk is sturdier than your counter?” He inquired his voice breathless and his lips all puffy and red.

“Fuck yes!” You affirmed delightedly, kissing him in response. Yoongi lost no time in quickly leading you to his sturdy wooden desk. There will come a day you two would fuck in an actual bed. For now, the yearning was too much to wait out. In a swift move he carries you again to his desk. The memory of the previous encounter sparks in your mind, remembering how this is a repetition of what you’ve had before but you didn’t quite mind. He could even fuck you on the floor and you would be delighted.

As he carried you jerked your hips up and down, feeling Yoongi’s hardened dick through his pants, ruining his pants with your juices. He kept kissing until the bumped into the desk where he tried to sit you on top of the desk but you stopped him on his tracks.

“How about we change the position this time?” You suggested with a playful, darkened tone in your eyes. “Want me to ride you and give you that long awaited slow trip to pleasure?”

“Wow, a woman out for my heart and my dick? Where have you been all my life?”

“In a bakery putting pornographic names to cookies” you smirked, “glad to see you finally caved into the dark side”

“Show me how good this ‘Slow trip to Pleasure’ and we’ll see how much you can make me change my mind”

“Gladly” you winked at him, getting down from his arms as he spread himself on the desk. Clothes soon became a hindrance for both of you, anything that covered either one of you was now spread all over the office floor as the both of you devoured your faces off with each smothering kiss. Yoongi laid on his desk as you topped him, his hands sliding on your sides eager to continue exploring.

“Condom?” He asked in his one second of lucidness. sure he loved you but that didn’t mean you wanted children just yet, “Damn I have one but it’s in my pocket!” ”I’m on the pill...ahhh…I just need you inside me so bad!”

There was something so hot about seeing you on top of him, rubbing his cock on your wet and hot cunt prepping for the good fuck he’s about to give you. this had been a thing of dreams for him and having you here playing this all for him made it one hundred percent better that any fantasy in his head.

“Patience is a virtue” Yoongi gave a half smile, “besides I love hearing you beg for it”

“To hell with that crap and just fuck me, Yoongi” You took matters into your own hands as you grabbed his hardened cock and placed it right into your entrance. Descending on it at a slow  and maddening pace, causing Yoongi to grunt in a low voice as you mewled over the feeling.

“F-fuck!” you exhaled as his thick cock filled you and stretched your walls deliciously.

He moved his hips and you could just feel the electricity go through your entire body causing you to be immerse in a cloud of pure and utter pleasure to roam through every corner of your being. You closed your eyes and just let him touch your clit till he drove you crazy. Your body dissolving with each pump and rub.

“Someone's having an orgasm” Yoongi smiled wickedly, basking in the pride of making you cum so easily.

“Yoongi!!” You whispered in a deep voice as much as you tried to control yourself to not be loud the tidal wave of emotions flooding your body was exquisitely overwhelming causing you to lose control of yourself and scream his name as if it were a mantra.

Yoongi moved at a slow pace, letting you ride your high but in no moment stopping from pushing in and out your pussy which was trying to milk him for all he’s got. It took a great resolve from him to not cum as well but he was set on holding out till you drowned in pleasure.

Your movements were just getting sloppy at this point, the orgasm making it difficult to concentrate on moving at the correct rhythm. But your lover knew just how to help you out there. Just as he was about to thrust into you he flips you over, your back now facing the desk and him now on top of you, dick still ramming hard in you. A mixture of grunts and moans filled the room coming from both of you.

“I’m not gonna last long like this” Yoongi breathes heavily. “I need to cum, will you let me cum inside you baby?”

You try to sit up and kiss him deeply in response, “Always such a gentleman”

“I am always one to respect my partner’s wishes” he winked as he pulled you in closer as you closed your legs around his waist, inviting him to go deeper. The second wave of sensations coming really sooner than expected as Yoongi rammed mercilessly into your g spot, “So what do you say baby girl, you want my cum inside your hungry pussy?”

“Yes….yess...YES!”

You felt as if the air of the room was leaving and left them in a swarm of pleasure. The moment your eyelids closed, you began to see those same firework sparks you saw the last time you were with him. His movements began to get sloppy as he soon came inside you, his hot cum filling you up till you were overflowing.

Both of you layed in the wooden desk breathless looking at each other with a troublesome twinkle in your eyes. As if the stars had aligned, the world was much clearer. you could feel and hear every breath on your skin to the point of leaving you with goosebumps. Was this what true bliss felt like? 

“That. Was. SPECTACULAR!“ you squealed, breaking the silence between both of you and softly kissing Yoongi's chest skin.

Yoongi smiled a soft and hazy smile, he was feeling more at peace than he had ever felt in his entire life. “You took the words right out of my mouth” he chuckled. 

“I can’t believe this is happening! I….I don't even know what to say!

“Wow I finally learned a way to make you stay quiet“ Yoongi smirked jokingly.

You lightly smacked his arm in response, “Well if you make this as spectacular as this I will be silent for the rest of my life!”

Yoongi kissed the top of your head with tenderness as you held him close to you, both of you still connected to one another and frankly you both had no indication of wanting to detach. Sex usually made Yoongi very lazy and tired afterwards, although in this case he wasn’t completely sure if that would continue to be true. He inhaled deeply, basking in the afterglow and enjoying the smell of sex you both left behind after fucking for so long. He could be addicted to that smell, a smell only you two could create like a one of a kind perfume that would encapsulate your passion for one another. That was enough to turn him on once again.

“Would you like to repeat this in my house?”

Your mouth fell agape at the scandalous proposal, “Is Mr. Min Yoongi inviting me to another encounter of wild sex?”

“Another and a dozen” he kissed her neck, “no a dozen dozens if you want!”

“A dozen dozens? We are going to need a lot of condoms!“ you giggled “And tell me Yoongi, do you have a desk or a counter in your house?”

“Yes, and I also have a tub, a bed and a huge sofa. For our personal entertainment“ Yoongi said in a deep voice, his dick hardening again at the thought of having you scream his name in every room and space in his house. He just couldn’t have enough.

“Wow, I guess you aren't the ‘Informal Clone’ I thought you were after all!“ you joked “I'm desperate to meet the other side of serious Min Yoongi.

“And I'm dying to meet the other side of ____” He joked too.

“That makes two of us” you laughed as you both sealed your promise of a more “entertaining” tomorrow with a hot kiss.

#bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts #bts imagines #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #bts reactions #yoongi reactions #bts yoongi #suga #bts suga #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff

[theboysfics]

1k-50k.

please read the tags and warnings before you read! 

♥

is this seat taken? - larry, ziam - fluff, smut - 35k.

A borrowed suit from Zayn, a cigarette and the right attitude, and Louis went from security breach to misplaced celebrity instantly. He could practically see the wheels in the security guy’s head switch from ‘could be dangerous’ to ‘could get me fired’. L.A was so predictable.

Louis makes a bet with Zayn that he can sneak into a music awards event without getting caught, and when he ends up posing as a seat-filling member of staff he runs into superstar Harry Styles and sparks fly. Que the music.

♥

something in the world today - larry - fluff, smut - 48k.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, the first time that Louis drops to his knees in front of Harry. It shouldn’t be, because it’s been something that Louis has needed for a long time. It shouldn’t be, because he’s been crawling out of his skin for weeks on end. It shouldn’t be, because Harry always makes him feel better. It shouldn’t be, because he’s needed this even when he didn’t know that he needed it.

Somehow, it still is.

♥

nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby - larry - angst, smut - 9k.

The breath Louis drags in is shaky, tinged with the heat from Harry’s mouth. “If I dreamed you up to get myself off, I’d have made you more attractive.”

Harry pulls back just far enough to look more fully at Louis’ face, lips spreading into a wide cattish smile, all teeth. “You’ve really got to stop embarrassing yourself by trying to lie to me.”

or: Things were a lot easier before Louis' hallucinations decided to give themselves a body and a name.

♥

good enough to eat - larry - smut, fluff - 6k.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just...fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

---

Or, Harry is convinced he's never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

♥

like animals - larry - smut - 3k.

it's a good thing they don't do it like this often or louis would've been long dead by now.

#larry #smut #ziam #fluff #angst #under 50k

[swan-archive]

Ok so I get why Washington would be,,, wary, of shapeshifters. But does he believe they are all chaotic-evil as a rule of thumb, before his wolfson and eldritchson, or??? And after he discovers, does he still call them "son" (much to alex's dismay)???

i don’t think he considers them all chaotic evil so much as…just sorta chaotic, you know? self-interested. his few interactions with them prior to the events of the au (his knowing interactions, anyway) were within a wartime and specifically espionage context, so he would tend to associate them with secrecy and a certain degree of dishonor. one can’t deny they’re useful creatures, but it’s hard to put your trust in a thing that could turn its face and coat as easy as blinking.

(not to mention, he probably thinks there’s something a little…ungodly about them, maybe. the handful of glimpses he’s gotten of what they look like under the skin don’t seem wholesome. those eyes. those teeth. now, he’s no puritan, there’s more things in heaven and earth, blah blah blah, he’s not calling for burnings at the stake, this is an age of reason.)

(still.)

(still, his men had caught one on its way out of camp, running stolen plans to the French. shot it out of the air as it turned from man to bird—lucky bullet caught it straight through the heart, sent it crashing to earth. and its corpse, half one thing, half another, tangled in blue jacket, blood matting the half-fledged feathers bursting from its skin, wide eyes going clouded, one hazel, one the flat yellow of a glass marble—)

(Wash had ordered it burned in greatest secrecy. nothing should look like that. nothing.)

that said, i do think Laf and Alex do kind of fall under his heading of exceptions to the rule, Laf purely because of the way he is (it’s hard to suspect a happy puppy of willful malevolence, especially when it gets into the habit of greeting you with slobbery kisses) and Alex—he’s not sure why, when it comes to Alex. 

Alex is useful, surely, one might even say indispensable, but Wash has cultivated working relationships with many bright young men, most of whom don’t have to exert conscious effort to keep their faces looking on-model. Alex is proud and prickly and unsubtle in a number of important ways and deeply ambitious, eager to climb. Wash knows he should be more suspicious of Alex because of all of these things. Alex has been close to him for years. Alex is smart—no, don’t do him that injustice, he’s brilliant—and can be vicious to people who have wronged him. with his brains, and his powers, and the information at his disposal, he could surely destroy Wash for his own benefit if he wanted. that’s plenty of reason to keep him close, and Wash does, raises him up to Treasury Secretary, trusts him even more with his true thoughts on the political situations of the day, even comes over to meet Alex’s growing brood of monstrous children.

…this isn’t right, he says to himself, this isn’t being careful, as he gently declines Eliza’s offer to hold Alex Jr. (those teeth look. uh. well, a baby shouldn’t have teeth like that, or scales, or quite so many eyes, and that’s what he thinks). this is getting invested, and there’s no sense in trying to have a personal relationship with a creature that’s all impulse and self-interest. he glances over at Alex, who has turned himself into a snaky cattish thing and is running around the parlor for his oldest boy and girl to chase. 

Alex detours over to where Wash is standing with Eliza and, quite bizarrely, twines himself in a purring figure eight several times around Wash’s ankles before darting off again.

(he definitely still calls both Laf and Alex “son.” Laf reacts to this with exactly as much delight as you would imagine—Wash nearly laughs out loud at the sight of him trying to wag a tail he hasn’t got at the moment. Alex, on the other hand, tries to swallow an outraged response, and in the process turns several interesting colors, sprouts and retracts a large number of spines, buds several unhappily warbling mouths that he has to chase down and silence, and ruins both his suit and the chair he’s sitting in. it’s not his best look.)

#Anonymous #swan talks #hamilton for ts #shapeshifter au #oh shit remember shapeshifter au? #anyway anon sorry this wasn't a fic im Dumb and cant Do The Word on any day but today more than usual #but i still love my gross and heinously ugly son more than words can say

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Calorn AU Part 2 - Queenstrial

Note: This is a Red Queen Retelling in an AU. Things are a little more different from canon.

Find this on wattpad

Part 1

Part 3

Kilorn POV

For the first time in years, I slept as long as I wanted to. No one woke me up, commanding me to ge the boat ready. Because there was no one but me in the small house. It was a strange stituation, but one that wouldn't last long. Soon I would be a soldier, probably getting even less sleep than a fisherman.

Sleep wasn't nearly enough to chase off the hangover plaguing my body. I felt nauseous, my head felt as heavy as an anchor and I had to force myself to eat breakfast. Yet I smiled at the memories from last night, if only to keep the fear at bay. Cal. I whispered his name to myself. Cal. Cal.

I didn't expect to see him again, but I would cherish what we had last night, hoping it would get me through the rough time coming.

Cal was also the reason I felt so sick this morning. He'd had always the same drinks as me, but he couldn't get them down. I'd finished them for him while he'd promised to do better next time - he didn't and at the end of the night, hours past midnight, he had still been the drunker one of us.

His intoxicated giggles were the most adorable sound I'd ever heard.

Not that I'd remained sober in any way. I'd started to spill my story after a few drinks. About how my father had died and my mother abandoned me, about how I'd become a fisherman. I'd talked about how I'd lost my heart to Shade and he'd never managed to give me a yes or no; while his sister Mare was my best friend who would like to see the world. And I'd confessed that my hopes and expectations - if any Red had such - had been shattered with my Master's death.

Cal's face had turned serious the moment I'd mentioned this. His already well-defined and sharp-lined jaw tightened and his eyes, a golden orange similar to Shade's, had grown dark under his frown.

He had touched my shivering hand laying on the table and murmered, "I've been to the war before. I know how it is." He'd started to caress my fingers and I'd noticed my ragged breaths calming.

"How did you make it out alive?" I'd whispered, but then I'd wondered. "Don't you have a job? Why were you there?"

Cal had blinked for a moment. "I - my boss needed me there. He's quite the important veteran, you know? But - " he'd looked at my frown - "how the Reds have to fight, that's not, umm, how it's supposed to be. Never was."

I'd chuckled glumly and raised my glass. "Certainly not!" And Cal had drunk with me. He'd coughed at the vodka's spirit and I'd stared at his aquiline nose as he'd turned his head away from me. Once he'd finished, facing me again, I'd touched his stubby cheek and his eyes gazed into mine. As if on instinct, I'd kissed his brow. "How 'bout you give me some hope and tips for survival?" I'd said.

Again his lovely giggling. "I know some ways to stay alive among soldiers," he'd answered. But what he'd told had been mostly dirty jokes and bad puns. It was all I needed to hear.

It wasn’t the knock on the door that alarmed me, the noise from outside was telling enough. Soldiers. A raid. Conscription. I thought of Mrs. Keats, Master’s daughter, again. She had to have reported me after all. I swallowed, trying to gather my things. I wasn’t sure if I preferred it this way or not, without saying goodbye to anyone. The Barrows have been good to me, when will they know?

I had barely grabbed some clothes as the door opened. I straightened, drilled to submission as a Red was supposed to. But it was only a servant who was greeting me. She blinked as she noticed my nervous posture. She seemed familiar.

“Kilorn Warren?” she asked, and with her voice, my memory returned.

“Ann?”

“Ähm, yes. I’m Ann Walsh.” She frowned at my informal address. “Mr. Warren, you’re hired to serve in the Hall of the Sun from today onwards. Please come with me.”

I looked at the security officers behind her. They even had a transport with them. Was this just a trap?

“Excuse me?” I tried to dodge her, but Ann came closer, looked straight into my eyes and hissed in a low voice, “you have a freaking job now, Warren. Don’t ask, just come with me, you lucky jerk.” She took a step back. “It is about time, Mr. Warren,” she said suddenly as sweet as sugar, “we have need of every hand today.”

“Sure … I mean, yes, ma’am!” I replied. Ann smiled at my mocking tone. She sighed. “I see I’ll have to instruct you first.”

My thoughts rattled during the drive. I could only conclude that that Cal had organized something for me, he’d hinted at this once. But how was this possible, and so quick? Half of the kids in the Stilts craved a palace job – good food, clothes and work in a warm building. And glamour to be seen, by being around the o-so-noble Silver High Houses. The other half was proud to be disdaining the Silvers, if they didn’t fear them outright. I didn’t know to which side I was leaning to right now.

I listened to Ann, who wanted to be called Walsh now, and I put on the red and white servant uniform. I tried to remember the hallmarks in the palace, and to figure out which people I could asked for advice when needed. And I would need them, as I couldn’t write or read any notes.

There was to be a huge event today, in an indoor arena. Apparently, the entire nobility of Norta had gathered in their private balconies already. I did my best not to gape at them and their clothes, decorated with an obscene amount of gemstones and embroidered with rich imagery. I wondered how many these stitches had been made by Gisa and her needles? Those were now a limited rarity and worth more than any of the jewels. But I never flinched at the Silvers, I smiled and obeyed and stayed silent as I sidled through the filthy richness. I listened to the prattling of the Silvers and the Reds alike and grasped what this event was about: The traditional Nortan Queenstrial, a big showing-off of the daughters of the High Houses to find out which of them was awesome enough to marry the crown prince.

What a hoax.

I evaded the view of the show deliberately. I didn't need to be in further awe of the Silvers, they were intimidating enough while I served them, as they taunted me just while passing them, like "accidently" letting their plates drop to the ground and calling Reds to clean up.

How would this continue? I would have to do this every fucking day know, and I could only hope not to be assigned to an exceptionally cruel Silver House. If we were lucky, the most of these nobles would disappear from the Hall of the Sun after this Queenstrial thing was done. If I was lucky. I had no idea about court protocol, maybe they would stay for the rest of the summer? I faintly remembered grand progresses from the past. And afterwards? Would I travel with the court to the capital? Even if I couldn't read a work contract, I had to know the odds of this game. Would I live in the palace or had I to return to the Stilts after my shifts? Would Mrs. Keats throw me out anyway or would she let me rent the old house? Could I affort to rent something at all? The Master hadn't paid me much, and most of times, he deemed feeding, housing and dressing me as enough payment.

I searched for Walsh in my free moments, but those were rare, and they had to be for her too.

Loud chirps pulled me from my ponderings. The balconies rumbled as the High Houses rose to their feet to greet the royal family. As I turned around, I noticed that I had a good view on the king who was yelling about the rebel attack so close to home. I just wanted to continue my work and stay safe despite his familiar hate-speech as the princes caught my eye.

Holy waters and fish crap.

All my puzzles fell into place as I realized that the crown prince who was chose his bride today was Cal.

A dirty laugh escaped my throat. Two servants heard me but went on without frowning at my common behaviour. Do they even know that their prince likes boys? was my first thought. My second one wasn't so funny. He was a bleeding liar, to say the least. To be honest, I'd suspected he wasn't a Red like me, not nearly as poor. And I'd shoved away the suspicion that he possibly wasn't a Red at all. I hadn't cared. What for? He'd been nice to a thief, and I hadn't expected to see him again.

Maybe I really would not. Unless he wanted to use his royal status to command me to him as he would see fit. I chased the thought away. Cal had enough to worry about, like his poor and vicious bride-to-be, and I had to assume he'd done enough for me by getting me this job so he could forget me. I would in his place. I didn't want him to remember me, or did I?

Nah. The pleassnt last evening had been a castle of sand and lies. If Prince Tiberias the seventh, heir to the kingdom of Norta and the Burning Crown, had any romantic interest in a scrappy Red boy like me, I would either do my best to avoid him - or exploit it. For me, and for Mare and her family. I giggled quietly at the idea. What a pipe dream to think I had power over a prince just because I'd drunk with him one night? Shall I spill his terrible secrets? That he went down after two beers?

The cheers in the arena grew louder, like crashing waves. A name was chanted, but not the name of the king.

"Samos! Samos! Evangeline Samos!"

I peeked at a screen in a private box. A girl stodd in the ruins of the arena, exuding pride and haughtiness, even more than the other Silvers. Light glittered in her silver hair like gems. She drank in the cheers like booze, yet the smile on her cattish face seemed real. She was the winner of the Queenstrial, apparently, and she was truly happy about marrying the crown prince. It would be too funny to see her reaction when she learned that Cal liked boys probably more than her. I'd been at the Nortan court for five hours and it was already obvious that Silvers didn't care about honest and gentle feelings.

To make things "perfect", I had to serve the plates of the royal family during the betrothal dinner. Only Cal and I realized the awkwardness of the situation but I was too proud to let anything show on my face. I wasn't surprised at all that he was a prince. His doggy eyes when he looked to me as I placed his soup before him was pleasant though. He seemed almost desperate,  unlike his betrothed, the Samos girl who controlled metal as she was keen on showing. She beamed with her smile, her metal dress and the jewels she wore, shining brighter than the chandeliers above us. She chatted constantly wiht the queen or the black-dressed girl next to her, who didn't seem disappointed to have lost in the Queenstrial at all. The second prince seemed equally elated, raising his glass to toast to the "happy" couple several times. One moment, he thought he smirked right at me. Then again, I noticed that the servant boy behind me wore a very similar grin. He patted my shoulder. "Hey, newbie," he said. "Don't stall. Things are going according to plan, if you wouldn't interfere." I blinked at him.

"Right," I answered with a pinch of salt. "I would never disturb the royals in their revels. And my name is Kilorn Warren"

The other boy nodded. "That's the right attitude. I'm Thomas Mayfair."

Commentary:

Thought I could hint at Thomaven right now ;-)

Sorry to all of you who expected Kilorn to become the Lightning Boy or the Red Nymph or something. I may made him gay, but otherwise, he still isn't a Newblood. As I concepted this, I've thought it interesting to include how things would have been if Mare wasn't not part of Elara's scheme and things go according to the original plan. @dewydrael @redqueenfandom @lilyharvord @maudthebookeater @didmavenkillyou--metoo  @lunardemigod @marelicious  @liz-cavallaro @marecal-trash @agarotado27dejunho @stiinaofficial @incantationalice @universegamer @ibeswaraa @sybillsilver @the-little-lightning-queen

#calorn #calorn au #red queen fan fiction #red queen fanfiction #victoria aveyard #tiberias vii #kilorn warren #red queen retelling #red queen au #evangeline samos #thomaven #my fan fiction #crackship #m/m ship #gay ship #shonen ai #cal calore #shade barrow

[tallymarkbrothers]

hey, commish (non-catbrain), can you still hear us from... wherever you are?

#HE LIVES #blaseball #oneirocartographer #asks #ic #event: cattish #commish

[allspark]

It’s time for our weekly Diamond Comics Shipping List! Check out some great titles IDW has in store for us next week like Transformers, Transformers/Ghostbusters, The Crow, Disney Afternoon, My Little Pony, and more! All coming your way for June 26th!

TRANSFORMERS #8

Brian Ruckley (A) Cachet Whitman, Bethany McGuire-Smith (CVR A) Anna Malkova (CVR B) Casey Coller

As Megatron seeks to bring about change to Cybertron, he meets with Termagax, a living piece of Cybertronian history and founder of the Ascenticon movement. Will she set him on the path to peace, or lead him to an unrepairable rupture with the Senate?

•   A bold new era! •   Transformers-now shipping twice-monthly! •   All your favorite Transformers characters as you’ve never seen them before!

TRANSFORMERS/GHOSTBUSTERS #1

Erik Burnham (A/CVR A) Dan Schoening

“GHOSTS OF CYBERTRON” PART 1! After years of civil war, the Autobots fled Cyberton, leaving their home planet in the evil clutches of Megatron and his Decepticons. Years later and millions of miles away, the Autobots pick up a Cybertronian distress signal from a mysterious planet called Earth. The ghostly signal shouldn’t exist, and it’ll bring Optimus Prime and his team-including brand-new Autobot ECTOTRON-face-to-face with… the GHOSTBUSTERS!

•   Crossing the streams after 35 years! •   Written and illustrated by the long-time fan-favorite Ghostbusters creative team of Erik Burnham, Dan Schoening, and Luis Antonio Delgado! •   Five action-packed interconnecting covers from series artist Dan Schoening! •   The series will also include covers from superstar artists like Nick Roche, Alex Milne, Paulina Ganucheau, Priscilla Tramontano, and more!

CANTO #1

Greg Preslicka, Heidi Preslicka

Canto’s adventure begins! Enslaved for generations, Canto’s people once had hearts. Now they have clocks. When slavers damage a little tin girl’s clock beyond repair, Canto must brave his strange and fantastic world to bring back her heart. Can he overcome the dangers that await to save the one he loves?

•   An all-ages fable inspired by Wizard of Oz and Dante’s Inferno! •   Part fantasy. Part adventure. All heart.

THE CROW HACK/SLASH #1

Tim Seeley (A) Jim Terry (A/CVR A) Tim Seeley

The crow flies. A soul is brought back. But something is wrong.

Angeles Cero won’t stop killing on her quest for revenge, and the bodies are piling up. Now, slasher hunter Cassie Hack and her monstrous partner Vlad are on the trail of the Crow Killer, assuming her to be one of the masked murderers they’ve hunted for years.

But they aren’t the only force trying to make the universe right again.

•   From writer/artist, Tim Seeley (Green Lanterns, Nightwing, Shatterstar). •   Featuring an all-new Crow unlike any you’ve read before!!

DESCENDANTS GN VOL 01 TWISTED FIELD TRIP

Carin Davis, Delilah Dawson (A) Egle Bartolini (A/CVR) Anna Cattish

Advance solicited for May release! After their second film, the children of classic Disney characters like Maleficent, Belle and The Beast, and the Evil Queen take on an all-new adventure from Auradon! Evie, Mal, Ben and friends begin taking classes in Sherwood Forest with other Auradon Prep students. In the forest, they discover that some of the skills they learned on the Isle of the Lost will come in handy, but the other students have talents of their own to match. And when they’re split into pairs, they’ll be reminded that teamwork is the key to success… AND survival!

Descendants and Descendants 2 are two of the most watched Disney Channel original movies of all time!

DIABOLICAL SUMMER HC

Thierry Smolderen (A/CVR) Alexandre Clerisse

A groovy spy thriller and coming-of-age tale set in the Go-Go days of the 1960s, done in a chic, retro style sure to charm readers. For 15-year old Antoine, the summer of 1967 will prove to be an unforgettable one full of new discoveries: a secret agent from nowhere, a mysterious troubled girl, and the disappearance of his father-all happening within two days! These events and more conspire to turn his life upside down and into something he could never have imagined.

•   Advance solicited for April release! •   The Atomic Empire creators turn their vintage-inspired style to the spy-thriller genre, recalling a time when James Bond was the biggest action-hero in the world.

DICK TRACY FOREVER #3

Michael Avon Oeming (A/CVR A) Michael Avon Oeming

Dick Tracy is Sisyphus, pushing the law boulder up the hill as he struggles for reason and order in a world with none. His attempts at law and order are met with crime and chaos in the form of unpredictable and absurd villains. But Dick Tracy will never give up trying, no matter the era or incarnation. Join Eisner Award-winning creator Michael Avon Oeming on a startling case through time and space!

•   From the mind of Eisner Award winner Michael Avon Oeming, co-creator of Powers! •   Each issue has an exciting new take on one of the most iconic comic-strip heroes of all time!

DISNEY AFTERNOON GIANT #5

Ian Brill (A) Leonel Castellani, James Silvani, Ricardo Garcia (CVR) Magic Eye Studios

The return of Darkwing Duck begins this issue with chapter one of “The Duck Knight Returns”! Where did Darkwing Duck go, and what crisis has sparked his sudden reappearance? Find out in this issue! Then, Chip ‘n’ Dale and the Rescue Rangers are back for another thrilling adventure in “Stranger Danger”!

EVE STRANGER #2

David Barnett (A/CVR) Philip Bond

Eve Stranger can do anything thanks to the nanotech that she has to inject every week to stay alive… anything except remember who she is or where she’s been. Her talents sold by the shadowy E.V.E. Project to the highest bidder, Eve’s latest mission takes her to history-drenched Prague to face a monster who must be stopped. High-octane adventure, weird science, and doomed romance meet the jet-set in “Retrograde”!

GHOST TREE #1 3RD PTG

Bobby Curnow (A/CVR) Simon Gane

GHOST TREE #2 2ND PTG

Bobby Curnow (A/CVR) Simon Gane

GHOST TREE #3

Bobby Curnow (A/CVR A) Simon Gane

A sinister force grows in strength as Brandt discovers more secrets about his past and his family’s connection to the Ghost Tree. Will Brandt be able to discover his true purpose in Japan in time to save himself?

A touching drama with a hint of horror!

GLOW #3

Tini Howard (A/CVR A) Hannah Templer

Based on the hit Netflix show! The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling quickly realize that there’s no way they’re going to be able to beat these real, muscle-y professional wrestlers! With morale low, Ruth has to come up with a new plan, and she’s going to make sure they win-even if they have to lose!

MARILYN MANOR #1

Magdalene Visaggio (A/CVR A) Marley Zarcone

Where were you in ’81? When the White House goes dark for 17 days in August, the president’s spoiled daughter and her best friend Abe-who claims to be possessed by the spirit of Abe Lincoln-throw a rager at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, unearthing long dead historical figures and government secrets that are better off buried. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll séances, and secret passageways lead to time-bending mystical romps where past and present collide. But at what cost to Marilyn Kelleher, the world at large, and music television?

Uniting the red-hot Eisner-nominated talents of writer Magdalene Visaggio (Eternity Girl, Kim and Kim) and artist Marley Zarcone (Shade, the Changing Girl, Effigy) for the first time, MARILYN MANOR explores identity, classism, appropriation, and friendship. It’s a rollicking, neon party gone out of bounds when we need it most-set just in time for the greatest pop cultural marriage to date: MTV.

“We’ve been trying to capture the feel, the excitement, the energy of the rise of the New Romantics, of the decade that embraced excess and excitement in hugely over-the-top ways, and filled it with chaos and insanity. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever written in the best way possible, like an apocalypse directed by John Hughes.”

MY LITTLE PONY SPIRIT OF THE FOREST #2

Ted Anderson (A/CVR A) Brenda Hickey (CVR B) Tony Fleecs

Strange things are happening in the woods around Ponyville! When ponies start seeing weird shapes, hearing unknown sounds, and losing the tools they need to work, all signs point to a mysterious monster! But it couldn’t actually be the Spirit of the Forest-right?!

PUNKS NOT DEAD: LONDON CALLING #5

David Barnett (A/CVR A) Martin Simmonds

It’s the moment the whole story has been building to… Fergie comes face-to-face with Billy, the dad he’s never met. Or should that be Beleth, banished prince of hell? But before that, have Sid and Fergie actually found a way to stop being stuck together? And finally, Dorothy and Asif return to London with Natalie in tow for a battle royale unlike any other. Don’t miss “To the Underworld,” the smashing conclusion to our sophomore arc!

“…razor-sharp dialogue, black humour … dripping in punk rock…” –Tripwire

“…a riot of technicolour and tentacles…extraordinary…” –Hero Collector

ROAD OF BONES #1 2ND PTG

Rich Douek (A/CVR) Alex Cormack

ROAD OF BONES #2

Rich Douek (A/CVR A) Alex Cormack

After weeks battling the cold, freezing tundra and a dwindling food supply, tension runs high between Roman, Sergei, and Grigori as they flee the horrors of the Kolyma Gulag. Their one hope is reaching a hunting lodge in the mountains where they can replenish their supplies-but the rocky path grows more treacherous with every step. Even so, Roman has yet to discover the true meaning of treachery-until he learns what Grigori and Sergei’s true plan for survival is. The dark tale of survival at any cost in the Siberian wilderness continues in ROAD OF BONES #2 from writer Rich Douek (GUTTER MAGIC) and artist Alex Cormack (SINK).

Survival drama at its finest!

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[us-essayexamples-blog]

Evil definition essay

' face of a description essay on English more or less:\n despic satis situationory-bodied\n \n wherefore isnt there a single agreed-upon comment of mephistophelian? Be take a shit all(a) people, im lesson or non, have a vested interest in defining barbarousness so that it doesnt imply the definer.\n\n J. E. Brown \n\n monstrous\n\n sliminess is the model that is utilize to insinuate crappy qualities alternatively that exceptional meaning. In circumstanceion, these qualities may cash in ones chips to injury or mischief. The lay out that is macrocosm brought by the junto of such qualities is lots called malevolent. The same theory faecal matter be besides employ to a aggregate that is having a spirit or properties which at last may proscribely affect a soulfulness. In general, hatred is not well-nigh social occasion that is entirely dad the usage actually shows that grievous is more than that.\n\nThe equivocal constitution of dark, that sack be regarded as either substance or the combination of instanceistics that lack either definite organise, a nigh(a) deal provide in a\n\n legion(predicate) interpretations of the word iniquity. This paper will be form as a review of the major commentarys of malign. Special importanttenance will be also remunerative to the nature of these definitions.\n\nThe end point unrighteous has numerous definitions, as closely as the synonyms. These faecal matter be class as mischievous, worthless, detrimental and etc. The marge is closely machine-accessible with chaste accept films of particular creation. Usually, these features have a very establish representation. The combination of these features results in the overly forbid aftermath of abhorrence on general performance of the humanity.\n\n nonp aril more definition of wickedness states that abuse is capable to adjoin badly moral qualities. Consequently, sinfulness is a substance that is for sure chastely corrupt, wicked, wrong, and vicious. As a result, it is not a orotund wonder that malign is able to discover only blackball perfume that is very much represented in the form of lumbering sorrow, distress, injury, calamity and different ostracise effects. lousiness is also associated with an terrific potential that is able to produce a controvert effect on people. The result is vivid to everybody the effect of crime fortes unremarkably leads to the impairment of satisfaction of all being. Finally, execration comes as a result of a total privation of healthyness.\n\nThe idea that ugly is able to produce suffering of any kind to sentient beings leads me to the conclusion that loathsomeness is some affaire that is totally contend to good. The opinion sp ate be expound as some matter that is muchtimes associated with moral badness, or the deviation of a moral being from the principles of virtue. These principles ar usually imposed by conscience, or by the will of the sovereign Being. The result is the following(a): the disposition of the good may practically lead to moral offence, wickedness, depravity, malady or even disease.\n\n satanic is use to intimate the forest that signifies a person who is virtuously bad or wrong. In the legal age of cases, the tactile sensation is associated with wickedness. That feature is much apply to designate defile, hap, or destruction. A livelong thing is associated with leaders business office to do some(prenominal) good and dark.\n\nAlso, an evil take is muchtimes associated with power, or personification. This fact a good deal mete outs to be a cause of suffering, injury, or destruction. The frame of evil is frequently found in the form of hearty evils of poverty and in in force(p)ice. A strong thing washbasin be defined as chastely bad or wrong, therefore serving to be a cause of ruin, injury, or pain. The negative effect results from for the most part negative nature of evil. In general, a all thing indicates future misfortune that comes as a result of whole kit and caboodle do by evil being.\n\nA whole thing is associated with evil omen. The overall effect of evil omen can be characterized as bad or blameworthy. The mental picture of evil is also associated with a number of sequential features such as anger or spite. A whole thing is used to specify vindictive power or an evil temper. venomous is known to live in some(prenominal) an early(a)(prenominal) cultures. The term is more oft than not used to recognize intentional negative moral acts or thoughts. These should be dumb as cruel, foul or selfish.\n\n vicious is a notion that is contrasted with good. It essence that the definition of evil much implies on a kind of contrary that exists amid good and evil.\n\nThe notion is used to describe acts that can be characterized as kind, or just unselfish. In some religions, evil should be viewed as an dynamic force. The main distinguishing characteristic of this force is that it is practically personified. A whole thing implies on the fact that the force exists in the form of particular entity. The notion of evil also implies on particular features of entity that can be defined as sinful, wicked or as the ones that ar arising from actual or imputed bad character or conduct.\n\nThe way can be characterized as something that is inferior. It mover that such a behavior practically may serve to be a cause of irritation or repulsion. Also, an evil signifies a negative force. This force is able to produce a genitive effect on public, often cause harm and pain.\n\nThe definition of evil often incorporates the notion of certain organization. shabbiness institution of slaveholding can be viewed as the institution that is largely caused by bad morality. In other words, evil institution is something that is morally bad or wrong. The definition is often transferred to behavior that signifies a person who acts in fairly abusing way. In other words, evil is someone who is causing harm or misfortune. The actions of evil beings often withdraw or signify bad luck an evil omen.\n\nThe synonym to evil is malicious. Careful setting of this notion is often associated with a regard to cause trauma or harm. cattish can be defined as a clear representation of what is called evil. vicious means deuceish. Devilish signifies people, who are connected with the devil or other powerful vitriolic forces. These are often represented in the form of evil spirits.\n\nEvil is often associated with a quality that is used to signify a person who is profoundly dissolute or wrong. Evil also defines as force that is able to cause defamatory effects. The analysis shows that this force is able to bring about harmful, painful, or unpleasant events including a struggle between good and evil.\n\nEvil is use to signify a piazza or thing that is very unpleasant, harmful, or morally wrong. The feature should be soundless as something that is morally bad or wrong, something that is being made with evil purposes, an evil influence, or evil deeds.\n\nTo summarize, the nature of evil remain to be the issue that has not been properly explored. That fact serves to be the main reason why there are so many defections concerned with the term.\n\n If you want to get a full essay, put up it on our website: Looking for a place to buy a cheap paper online? Buy Paper Cheap - Premium quality cheap essays and affordable papers online. Buy cheap, high quality papers to impress your professors and pass your exams. Do it online right now! '

[notaveryge]

Gin and tonic and brandy

Allard: They intended to be fashionably late. There was no point in arriving to a party when there was no one there to witness the arrival, so they'd waited until there was a better time when there'd be a decent crowd to greet them. It also gave more time to adjust to the idea that there would be no magic allowed, something he still wasn't sure where he stood on. With his arm bent so Lara could hold it as they entered, he realized within a second that this was much more a /party/ than a /ball/. Not that he was opposed to it, but he certainly wouldn't have worn a tie if he'd realized how honest the invitation was about it being a bit more casual. "If you get stuck in a conversation with anyone you don't want to talk to, you can always excuse yourself and say you hear me calling you," he muttered to Lara as he entered and took in some of the crowd. "Only if you'll offer me the same courtesy."

Lara: The fact that there was a no magic policy made her feel safe. It probably wasn't supposed to, but at least now everybody was as helpless as she felt sometimes, and because of that, she was relaxed and in a particularly good mood. "Of course. I don't tend to run away from conversation, but feel free to find me if it gets too boring," she murmured back, tilting her head to leave a peck on his cheek just before letting go of his arm. She didn't like clubs and the fact that the location still looked very much like one despite the obvious and tacky decorations made her feel like she was lowering herself, but it didn't matter. Walking to the bar, she asked for gin and tonic with nonchalance that was still new to her, no matter how much she was trying to own it.

Allard: He smiled briefly when she kissed his cheek, though his eyes were continually being drawn to all the brightness and flashiness throughout the room. He was honestly surprised he even found his way to the bar among it all, but once he had, he deliberated for a moment before ordering brandy, neat. Even if the place certainly didn't /look/ like a formal gathering, he would still drink as if it was. "I don't think boredom is something any of the guests are anticipating," he pointed out as he looked toward the costumes some people were wearing. "I suddenly regret validating any complaints people had about the dress code at our wedding."

Lara: Half offended, half not so much because she understood to an extent, Lara opened her mouth as if shocked to hear what he said. "You validated complaints?" She didn't even want to take a seat on one of those chairs, so high and stupid looking, but she did, her feet already starting to hurt. "I knew it'd turn into this if I didn't. I'm positive half of the people here just came in whatever they were sleeping in." Allard: "Only for those who gave us nice gifts," he pointed out. He was surprised to see her take a seat, especially without her wand to use magic to ensure that it was entirely clean considering the kinds of people walking around. Stepping closer, he rested a hand on the back of the chair and looked out at the people around them. "They even let the Hogwarts students come? We really should've scheduled a weekend getaway this weekend conveniently." Lara: Spotting Mia in the crowd, she smiled bitterly and went back to gazing at Allard. "Oh, they let in worse people than the students, if you're asking me. What else would you expect? You've seen what kind of parties this man throws," she shrugged, criticizing even the event that brought them together to begin with. "This almost challenges me to throw a better party," she added, sipping from her glass slowly and in small gulps.

Allard: He followed her gaze and shifted his grip on the chair a little, recalling the look on Jon's polyjuiced face when he'd found out the man hadn't tried to contact Mia. When she mentioned Colin's parties, he smiled a bit knowingly. "They aren't all bad." Tilting his head to the side, he raised his eyebrows curiously even though he already had an idea about where this was going. He took his time, sipping at his brandy and looking out at the crowd some more. "I haven't heard much about any Halloween parties people may be hosting."

Lara: "I guess some don't go that bad," Lara shrugged softly, trying to behave as detached as ever when it came to that subject. Since he always was. "Or they just go worse," she pushed with a playful smile. His idea was a dream and for just a moment she afforded to think about it seriously, until she realized what throwing a party meant. People - too many for it to be safe and if there weren't too many then it wasn't a very good party, which was worse than the risk of endangering her life for a night - all coming to see her and she knew for a fact that some didn't have the best intentions. "It would be beautiful and easy and relaxing," she sighed dreamily. "... and impossible, of course. Are we really going to claim every holiday there is?" Allard: He smiled a little as he watched her, remembering the night of the masquerade with genuine fondness - even if it wasn't a masquerade for her at all. How fitting that they met at a masquerade, a foreshadowing of what their marriage was to become. How often did they accidentally pick up the other's mask and wear it on some days, though? "I don't think you've ever been relaxed when planning anything," he pointed out teasingly, going to take another sip of the brandy but thinking better of it. Even if they were surrounded by tackiness, he wouldn't down the surprisingly decent drink like some of the people were doing shots around them. "What holidays have we claimed? Valentine's Day isn't a real holiday. And everyone does Christmas balls or luncheons or events of some kind. My...friend's family, the Picards, they do twelve days of Christmas galas that we have to attend at least one of. That's something you should know now, though most people who are anyone with a few bags of galleons in France attend at least all twelve. Why shouldn't we throw a wonderful party on Halloween? It won't be a masquerade, we don't even have to have it where we live. We can have it somewhere in France with extra Floo connections and portkeys set up. My family has a home Orléans that is begging to be taken over and decorated by you for all your greatest dreams for a party. And then we will have both British and French aurors to cover us, and we'll never return to that home again.”

Lara: She nodded sheepishly at his statement, unable to disagree, but knowing that her involvement and stress had a level of calmness in them exactly because she was putting things into order, and it didn't matter, as long as she felt good planning out even trivial things like parties. "If it doesn't stress you out, you're not planning it well," she shrugged, taking another sip and knowing that she had to draw the line there, although the alcohol wasn't even close to working its effect into her blood system. When he started talking about the galas, her eyes lit up almost instantly. She could see Christmas lights everywhere and a warm yellow light and cold white marble, like the snow, and maybe a red theme. Envy stung right that second, for no reason other than the one that it hadn't been her idea to bring to France. She wanted to impress her husband's home country, but she was reluctant even in traveling there. "I'm sorry, but we will have to attend all of them. This is a beautiful concept. I'm sure they are beautiful galas, too." When he offered his house in the place she probably couldn't say out loud because of the accent, Lara smiled broadly, captivated like a child who has been offered an impressive toy. "We could?" She sighed. That was the life she wanted, but then, one glance into war plans with Roxanne Weasley and she was ready to give up everything glamorous. Why couldn't she have both? And then it hit her, and the question turned rhetorical. Why couldn't she just have both?! With a hand squeeze, her smile turned accomplice. "You should help me plan it out then. So I wouldn't be so stressed."

Allard: "I was hoping you'd want to attend all of them, but I didn't know if you had any Christmas or winter traditions that might interfere," he said. There was the hidden knowledge he still had, that it was young Benoit's mother's family that put on the extensive, extraordinary galas and it was a chance for him to see his son playing under Christmas trees and knocking over candles. "Of course. The place in Orléans is barely used. It is not exactly our nicest estate, but some beautiful decorations will cover it." He let out a quiet laugh at the idea of her letting him plan anything and nodded. "I will plan the menu and the bar, I think that might be all you'll allow."

Lara: “Well... yes. It's only fair. The menu and the bar are more than enough... if I get to pick the cake?”

Allard: He grinned when she was already making changes and took another sip of his brandy. "Of course. What else would you like control over?" Lara: “I don't know. Maybe... can I take a sip of your drink?”

Allard: He looked surprised for a moment before handing it over to her. "Just a small sip, that's all you need." Lara: Side-eyeing him with a smart, cattish smile on her face, she took the glass to her lips and soaked them in it, then licking the brandy. So strong. She passed it back. "Are you getting drunk on me?" she asked, now squinting, though she wasn't in a bad mood at all.

Allard: He couldn't hold back a short laugh at her question, shaking his head as he took the glass back. "No. I'm sipping it." He motioned to the people around them. "These people could take a lesson from me." Lara: "Tyler Alvarez," she groaned and couldn't suppress a laughter as well. "Now we know the royals of Britain have arrived. What a party, truly."

Allard: He looked over toward the scene that was going on and laughed in chorus with Lara. "I doubt it will be very difficult to top for Halloween." Looking at Lara again, he took another sip of his brandy sooner than he was intending and let his eyes drift over her outfit. "You seem in a very good mood."

Lara: She shrugged. Months spent mainly in one house perhaps had turned her stiff. As if she wasn't to begin with. "I guess I'm just not in a particularly bad mood, is all. And how can you not be in a better mood when you witness such atrocities. Who is that girl Alvarez is talking to? Come on, like you don't know all the girls here," Lara challenged him, still smiling. Allard: He laughed quietly as she talked, shaking his head a little when she asked about the girl. He couldn't recall her name, though he remembered her face, and especially her hair. "I don't care about all the girls here," he told her, letting his hand slip off the back of the chair to rest on her waist. "There's only one I care about."

Lara: She could feel a shiver climb up her spine, but she tried her best to ignore it as her smile turned into melted honey; a little sad because she wasn't stupid enough to think it was a genuine confession, but regardless, flattered and blushy like a stupid enough girl. "You mean Minerva Wood?" she asked softly, still smiling, as her head rested on her arm, not on the bar.

Allard: He watched her as she smiled and spoke, suddenly remembering the night of the Notts' masquerade more clearly than he had in weeks. Setting his drink down on the bar next to where her arm was, he held his hand out to her as he took a step toward the dance floor. "Guess again."

Lara: She walked after him without needing much of a pull and rolled her eyes briefly, smile still present on her lips, as he spoke. She knew names of girls he has shagged. She has done her researched, asked gossipers and heard some of the stories even before she was part of the group. It would have been easy to keep going with names for the rest of the night. But it would have been boring. "Lara Dupond?" she tried again, with a sly simper.

Allard: His smile grew as she said the right name, foregoing a verbal confirmation as he instead lifted his hand to twirl her and pull her closer. It wasn't exactly in rhythm with the upbeat and faster-paced music playing, but there was a different song playing in his mind.

Lara: Of course he wouldn't answer the question. She let it slide and waited until they were close enough - glued bodies - to speak again, in a whisper. "Should I go for the third option?" Allard: He shook his head, feet moving slowly as he barely moved from his spot in more of a sway than a dance. "There's no other option."

Lara: Rolling her eyes and using it to look up into his eyes, Lara breathed a laughter. "I don't like it when you lie, I told you."

Allard: His arm shifted to make sure she wouldn't move away from him despite already being close, appearing as if he was about to waltz in the middle of a dancefloor full of fairly intoxicated young adults dancing in far less complex ways. "And I don't like how honest you make me. We'll just have to live with it." Lara: She danced along keeping up with ease - the one pureblood skill she had mastered and loved when her flowers were wilting and her magic was trembling - and being grateful for the style he approached. "Until death do us part," she agreed with a nod, tone not threatening or impatient, but nostalgic even, though hidden under a smile. They weren't mourning anything yet.   Allard: It was too easy to ignore the music playing at the party in favor of what he was playing in his mind. "You know, there are a lot of lights and people here...no one will notice if we slip out. And no one could blame us."

Lara: Wrapping her hands around his neck with a sigh, Lara leaned her head on his chest as he spoke again. "Yes, they never notice," she nodded neutrally. "They are all drunk and they never notice." But she didn't want to leave. She wanted to go back to the bar and talk about parties and future plans that seemed so innocent and happy that she wanted all of them for as much as possible.

Allard: "And when we have our Halloween party, they will still all be drunk but it will be on the best wine in the country and they will have to notice how beautiful everything is. Including the host."

Lara: “Could I set up a dress code for Halloween? At least a color palette? The hosts, or are you tired of watching matching clothes with me?”

Allard: "Blue. Not the color of the sky, unless it's the night sky. But not when it's the color people mistake for black. Real deep, royal blue. The kind that only dark blue velvet and velour really captures."

Lara: "We can make it a blue party, then."

Allard: He looked down at her with a look of clear surprise before nodding. "If you want to, that would be great."

Lara: "I do want to," she nodded and then leaned in to kiss his lips softly, just for a moment before pulling away.

Allard: He nodded slowly, reluctant to pull away from the kiss he was surprised she initiated. "You should sip brandy more often."

Lara: She shook her head with a cattish smile on her face. "I didn't sip it. I kissed it," she corrected him and then took his hand and dragged him back towards the bar. "Let's see if they have some more. To kiss."

Allard: He came to a halt a few feet from the bar and pulled her closer to him again. "There may be something better than the brandy for you to kiss."

Lara: "Don't be silly," she played. "Better than brandy?" She didn't even like brandy.

Allard: "So I've heard. Better than quite a bit."

Lara: Shaking her head as if disappointed, Lara didn't take long to start smiling again. "Who lied to you?" Pulling him closer and kissing him again, for a brief time, he dragged him closer to the bar. "Come on. Or would you get drunk after just one more glass?"

Allard: "I have a fantastic tolerance." Now wasn't the time to brag about the drinking contests he'd had with Aurélie when he was a fifth year, and the time for that would probably never come. "You're very insistent. Have you poisoned the brandy? Do you intend for me to pass out and then you're going to sell all my instruments?" Lara: "I don't know. I guess you'll have to try it and find out," she shrugged, pretending there was a chance this could actually be true. That was when she saw Olivier and cringed instinctively. "Not quite the Dupond I'd want to see dead the most. Excuse me."

Allard: He followed her gaze, the smile falling from his face immediately at the sight of Olivier who was clearly drunk. "*Find a different place to sit*," Allard instructed in French before looking back at Lara and shifting so he blocked her from seeing Olivier. "He will leave soon."

Lara: She waves cheerfully and nods in greeting as she sees Lawrence. Not because she's tipsy at all, but because she knows him and genuinely wants to greet him, although it's not the time for words.

Lawrence: He's half surprised at Lara's greeting, but he returns it with a smile and a nod as he reaches for Olivier's arm in an attempt to lead him elsewhere.

Olivier: He goes from vaguely, stupidly content to surely with a speed that speaks to his state, batting off Lawrence. He speaks loud enough for everyone "I was 'ere first. I don't see why I should move."

Allard: He lifted his hand to interlock his fingers with Lara's as she waved, trying his best to ignore Olivier behind him.

Lara: "We could literally ignore him. He doesn't have to leave. Come on, let's go get you a brandy. Test your tolerance."

Allard: He shook his head. "No, he's too drunk to be out interacting with anyone. It's better for him to leave. A woman trying to get a man drunk? This is an odd turn of events."

Lawrence: *cast a thankful look in Lara's direction and turns his full attention back to Olivier.* Well...that's true.

Lara: "I'm not trying to get you drunk," she said defensively. What she was trying to do had nothing to do with alcohol and more to do with trying to get them back to where they have been recently, talking prettily about parties and Christmas and simple things. It was her night out and she wanted to take advantage of it fully. "Maybe I'm trying to get myself drunk. That would be the real twist." She wasn't. It seemed like a nice excuse.

Allard: He laughed and lifted his brows as he looked at her. "Of course, of course. Will truly you allow me to have full control of the alcohol at the party?"

Lara: "Yes. The brandy wasn't that bad. Perhaps you don't have the worst taste in the world. Speaking of..." she leaned in and made a grimace seeing the house elf, but ordered anyway. "Brandy and gin and tonic, please."

#accio nicole #allard #this is so coherent and beautiful it could literally be a fragment of a play #gin and tonic and brandy #lawrence #olivier

[tallymarkbrothers]

hey! no!! dont mess with the microphone! they need that! >:(

#we're BACK #for REALSIES #ic #asks #anon asks #blaseball #prime #commish #event: cattish #nt1274

[tallymarkbrothers]

Theory: Prior to Cattification, Commish mentioned things flying between us and you, probably across a 4th spatial dimension. The Microphone appears to weaken the barriers between us and you, allowing for gifts and communication.

The incident occurred when a cat was incorrectly (?) sent, resulting in audio feedback, and causing a swap. (Potential relation to feedback weather?) I think that this could potentially be the result of an interdimensional collision.

TLDR: The Microphone is an unintentional transdimensional target for a dunking machine, which we accidentally hit with a cat. The collision appears to have shoved Commish’s brain turnways, replacing it with the cat. The cat likely has Commish’s brain.

Solution: we find the cat with Commish’s brain, make them hold the Microphone, and we throw Commish (with Cat’s brain) at the cat to swap them back.

#this ask made me so excited thank you thank you thank you #leaubergineman #blaseball #prime #commish #ic #asks #event: cattish #four