#surge tonic

[bugsims]

Dew: Has mom texted you about the fight yet?

Surge: no she's on a "social media break" bc she posted something insensitive about strangerville, remember? she doesnt know

Dew: She's going to.

Surge: naaaahh. its fine

Dew: Harvestfest is this weekend.

Surge: fuck.

#shaken soda legacy #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #ssl g2 #dew tonic #surge tonic

[vulnicura]

ok i think having an eating disorder & being on amphetamines since i was 11 on top of being an alcoholic is maybe a bit much

#me going out last night after not haven eaten anything in 24 hours #and drinking 1 white claw surge / 2 shots of vodka / 5 gin and tonics

[fanwarriorfictions]

Fix You

Short little Azriel one-shot. Sort of xReader but readers name is never used. I don’t know it’s just cute. Azriel is bad at taking care of himself, reader is a healer called to take care of him.

It was an effort to keep his wings from dragging behind him, the weight of them seemingly growing heavier and heavier the closer he got to the door.

He really should’ve just flown to the house of wind, taken a bath and collapsed into bed, but the moment he’d landed in Velaris, his body seemed to scream enough! And so he set about stumbling to the river house, cursing the dirt and blood caking his boots and leathers. There was no way he’d be able to get to his room without leaving a trail of it behind, a trail leading some busybody to his door to hound him to the healers office.

He didn’t need to go, he just needed to sleep it off. That’s what he kept telling himself even as his shadows whispered somethings wrong somethings wrong! Turns out the busybodies already found him.

“I’m fine,” he curses lowly, a scarred hand reaching for the door, “mind your own business.”

Usually the door wasn’t such a struggle to open, that should’ve been concerning, but Az was to focused on baths and beds to really care. He’d made it to the stairs, shadows frantically skittering around him, whispering so loud it hurt his head.

“Would you shut up?” He snaps.

The stairs looked impossibly steep, the ground was cold and bit at his wings, Feyre really picked a nice color to paint the walls, why is Cassian so loud?

“Az!”

He felt warm, a comforting feeling that almost lulls him back to sleep if it wasn’t for the voices surrounding him.

“What the hell happened?” A voice like night, familiar and filled with concern.

An equally familiar voice, “I came around the corner and he just fell face first into the stairs.”

“Call for Madja.”

“She’s away visiting Dawn,” a lighter voice sighs, “I’ll send for a healer from her clinic.”

The voices grew fainter, Az couldn’t tell if they moved away or if he was falling back into to blissful sleep, he didn’t need a healer, he just needed to rest. He tried to tell them that, but he was already asleep before he could even open his lips.

Cool fingers drift over his cheek, leaving a soothing trail of ice wherever they meet his flushed skin. The feeling is heavenly, he chases the hand as it falls away, grumbling quietly at the loss.

A melodic laugh sounds above him, he could bottle that sound and listen to it every day.

“He’ll be fine, other than a few cuts and bruises, which were already healing on their own when I got here, albeit slowly,” the voice says, “he overworked himself, sheer exhaustion caught up to him and his body just couldn’t keep up. I have some tonics to help him sleep, and to help with nutrition and energy levels.”

The words vaguely mean something to him, he doesn’t care what as long as she keeps speaking.

A loud sigh, “thank the Mother.”

His face scrunches up, why is he so loud.

Apparently he’d said the words aloud, he thinks at least due to the cough of a laugh and a disgruntled voice shouting, “hey!”

“Azriel,” the beautiful voice says, “how are you feeling?”

He sighs, lips turning up at the corners, “I’m fine, love.”

“Oh please,” the loud voice says, followed by the sound of smack.

The cool touch is back on his face, palm laid gently on his forehead, he feels a surge of energy beneath the touch, gently nudging away the fatigue over his mind. It comes back to him slowly, the loud voice, Cassian, the cool concerned one, Rhys. The house, the stairs, falling. The beautiful voice and gentle hands of the healer Feyre sent for to help him.

Azriel forces his eyes to open, first seeing his shadows dancing around him, dancing around soft fingers that pulled back from his face. He couldn’t rein in his shadows if he tried, not as they traveled up that arm towards the face of a female so beautiful it almost knocked him out again.

“You gave everyone quite the scare,” she says, a soft smile on lips that he is quite sure are just as soft, “how long has it been since you had a proper meal?”

He could detect the soft scolding tone of her voice and he couldn’t help the grin as he said, “is that an invitation?”

He vaguely heard the scoffed laugh of one of his brothers, a whispered conversation between the two of them and a pair of footsteps leaving the room.

The healer laughs quietly, a wonderful sound, “I see you’re in good spirits. That’s good.”

She smiles at a curious tendril of shadow that nudges at her cheek, almost like a cat seeking attention.

“It helps that I woke to the sound of an angel.” He’s glad his brothers left, he’d never hear the end of that one.

“I’m sure you say that to Madja all the time,” she chuckles, standing up to grab a bag off the desk by the door, “like I told your family, I’ve brought some tonics for you to get your strength back up, but they only work if you take care of yourself, shadowsinger.”

Azriel finally takes stock of the world around him then, his bedroom at the river house. The room elegantly decorated by Feyre to match the shadowsingers tastes. He lays on top of the deep navy duvet of his large bed, big enough for three Illryians. Someone had cleaned his clothes clothes, his boots and jacket gone, the black shirt and his leather pants clean of any stains.

The healer perches on the edge of the bed, eyes curiously assessing him. Beautiful his shadows whisper, and he could only agree. Absolutely beautiful.

Her hands reach out placing the tonics down on his night stand, arranging them with the carefully scrawled labels and instructions facing him. Her hand writing is soft and elegant, he wants to examine every swooping letter.

His shadows dance, twirling around the soft strands of her hair, tugging at her wrists to pull her towards him. He can’t find it in him to scold the things for it.

“You,” she turns towards the small wisp next to her face, “take care of him for me, please. Because I can tell he won’t listen to my advice.”

“Will you be here next time to patch me up,” he asks, “because if that’s the case I can assure you I won’t.”

She laughs, “don’t worry, I’ll fix you up if you need me. Just don’t make it a habit.”

Azriel grins, “no promises.”

She gives him a small smile in return, taking a bottle labeled sleep off the table, “I’ll be back with some tea. You need more rest.”

The shadows around her writhe, clearly not happy to see her go. She shoos them back, chuckling at their antics. Azriel watches her go, half tempted to ask her to stay, he wasn’t that far out of it to realize he shouldn’t do that.

Her voice flutters down the hall, talking to his brothers, asking oh so politely for some hot water and tea. They fade away towards the kitchen, even Cassian’s booming voice is muffled by the distance.

Azriel pushes off the bed to sit up slowly, his muscles feel more relaxed than he’s ever felt in his life, the vague memory of the painful state he’d been in feeling like a distant dream. Her magic worked its wonders on him, he could still feel it lingering there beneath his skin, almost like one of his shadows, examining him from head to toe in search of anything to fix.

“You shouldn’t get up to soon, you need to rest.”

There she was, a cup of tea balanced in one hand the other fisted on her hip. Her lips seem to try and frown but it looks more like a pout.

“I’m fine, love. I feel amazing actually,” he assures, “thanks to you.”

She sets the tea on the desk to her left, “my magic has that affect, like a pain relief tonic. It will continue to work until I leave, you are still healing so you may feel sore tomorrow, I’ve left a few pain tonics if you need them, if it is to much send for me, or Madja, she should be back in a few days, I know she is your preferred healer.”

His head tilts as listens to her ramble, loving the sound of her voice. He could listen to her talk all day long.

“Should I call for you even if I’m not in pain? Or is that a requirement for me to see you again? I’m sure either of my brothers would be happy to give me a few bruises for you to fix up.”

Her eyes light in amusement, “that is not necessary in the slightest.”

“Then I can call on you tomorrow? No fixing, maybe just some lunch?”

His shadows whisper in his ears but he’s to busy looking at her to listen to them.

“I’d like that, Azriel.”

His name on her lips sounds like the most beautiful song he’s ever heard. She hands him the tea and he drinks down the sweet liquid without question.

“You should get some rest,” she smiles, hands gently nudging his shoulders so he lays back down.

His eyes feel heavy, his body warm and relaxed, “thank you, angel.”

She laughs, “of course, shadowsinger.”

He’s drifting off to sleep, her laugh bringing him towards gorgeous dreams. His last shred of consciousness has only just enough time to think one thing before slipping through his grasp.

He’d never asked for her name.

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #x reader #Cassian is loud

[witchofhimring]

Loyalty Chapter 13

Synopsis: Synopsis: A Battle rages over Harrenhal and your path is not just dark, its destroyed.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, moontea/abortions, suicide, mentions of rape (not to the reader), Plot twist at the end!

The first memory of Lady Jenna was at the funeral your father. Back then she was dressed in a deep green that reminded you of the deep tonics your father took. Towering over you she was more than intimidating. Years later and you still felt at similar sinking sensation. "Y/n. It has been some time." She smiled, warm and friendly. That was what Lady Jenna attempted to project. However as Lady Jenna pulled you into a hug there was a tension. When the two of you broke apart you noticed something steely in her eyes. "Follow me." The greeting was quick and Lady Jenna lead the way inside. Up the stairs you went, attempting to remember everything. The entrance hall was lined with portraits of Highgarden's past lords and ladies. The images of your ancestors looked down at the newcomers. The second last one displayed your parents, Lord Owen Tyrell and Lady Amelia Tarley. This was the first time you had laid eyes on a decent image presenting their likeness in years. The little locket which held miniature portraits was miniscule in detail. You recognized your eyes in Lady Amelia Tarley.

"We best hurry." Lady Jenna sounded slightly impatient. With a hasty apology you caught up. Jaecerion took hold of your elbow. "You're trembling." Suddenly you became aware the your breathing had become erratic. With a beating heart you felt sweat collecting on the brow. You took his hand and whispered "Just hold me, please."

Lady Jenna welcomed everyone into her solar. The scent of pine greeted you. Trying to remember, memories of a time before Lady Jenna surged. When Lady Amelia had owned these rooms they had smelt the same. There was a perfume scent in the air that you could not quite names. Green curtains had hung in a similar fashion, showing the garden bellow. Lady Jenna sat in a great oak chair and beckoned for everyone else to sit. Immediately servants came in and started serving refreshments. A few of them cast you looks, Lady Jenna was quick to shoo them away. "I hope the journey was not a hard one." You were ready to reply when Jaecerion stepped in. "Unfortunately as we were not provided with a sufficient guard the journey was quite perilous." There was an edge to his voice. Lady Jenna sent him a thin smile. Looking at her closely you noticed a muscle in her jaw spasm. Then you looked to Jaecerion. What was with the sudden hostility? A sudden tension had risen and it put you on edge.

Lady Jenna then turned her attention to Lady Mara. "Lady Mara, it has been some time. I hope you are well." Your lady gave her a bright smile. Or at least it would have passed as such to the eyes of most. Lady Mara had always been somewhat closed up when it came to emotions. But you had spent enough time around Lady Mara to see it was forced. And could you blame her? The horror's of war and Rhaenyra's tyranny had left their marks on all.

"I am well. And I hope the same can be said of you too." Lady Jenna nodded. "Wonderful. All of you must be tired, I will have my servants show all of you to your quarters." It had been so abrupt that you had not even considered the fact that Lady Jenna had yet to properly converse with you. After all, you had been her eyes and ears, a member of her house. As a servant lead you away, you decided that once settled in you would speak with her. Not rudely of course, she was the head of House Tyrell. But the topic needed to be breeched.

Your room was high up in a tower overlooking Highgarden. From this height you could see all three walls and beyond. "This is where I was born." You held baby Owen so that he could look out. Even if he could not fully comprehend the scene before him you wanted Owen to see. This is where his family, or at least in the maternal line, dwelled. Since the Andals sowed their roots long ago his and your ancestors ruled. In time, Gods willing, so would he.

You're room was circular in shape and had a four poster bed, a writing table and a dresser. Yet something about this room felt empty. There were tapestries, but the ones in this room were a plain brown. The curtains hanging around your bed were also plain. Hardly a residence worthy of the former Lady of Casterly Rock. Even during your tenure as the Dowager Queens' lady-in-waiting, the rooms had been more sumptuous. And would it be enough when Lady Mari moved in? Speaking of Lady Mari, where was she? Walking over to the door you pushed it open. Instead of swinging open it hit metal. Alarmed you jumped back and the knight in front jerked forward. He turned around as you apologized. "Quite alright My Lady. Lady Jenna will be up soon." You thanked him and closed the door.

True to his word, Lady Jenna entered, alone. "My dear Y/n. It must have been a long journey." She gave you a hug and then looked down at Owen. "He is a very handsome boy. You named him after your father?" "Yes, My Lady." A door opened and a maid entered holding a tray. She placed it on the writing desk and departed. Lady Jenna waited till she left before telling out to sit. "It is good to see you after so long. And you have been a wonderful source of information." This felt more than slightly demeaning. You felt no more than a prop used by Lady Jenna. In return for all your service she had situated you here. "When will I have my ladies?" Lady Jenna took a sip of wine. "I will have Lady Cerilla attend you." She might as well have poured a bucket of cold water over your head. 'P....pardon my Lady Jenna. Lady Cerilla." You prayed that it was a mistake, perhaps there was another Lady Cerilla. But that hope was quickly dashed when a familiar red headed girl slunk in, a sneer upon her pale face.

You were quick to summon Lady Mari up. Even if you had to endure Cerilla's presence you might at least have company. Not for one moment would Cerilla have unfiltered access to you without witnesses. Cerilla seemed slightly disappointed to not have you alone. Normally you would be quite happy to rebuke he. Especially since you greatly outranked her. Unfortunately this was Lady Jenna's domain and woe to those who disobeyed her. When you had been very little a maid had disobeyed an order. You could not recall the crime but only a bloody result. As the bloody maid was dragged away Lady Jenna had come up behind you. "Remember Y/n, loyalty to your house."

Once Cerilla was gone, following orders to ask a maid when dinner was, you could finally breath. Closing the door a sigh of relief was let loose. "I had no idea she was sent here." Lady Mari stared at the door. "Me neither. Perhaps we should have expected it." Someone knocked at the door. If it was Cerilla you would jump out the window. When Jaecerion entered you felt relived. His silver head was still hidden under a hood. Walking towards him you hugged Jaecerion. You would miss him greatly. During the past few weeks you had forgotten what life was like without him. "Lady Mari, could you give us space?" Lady Mari curtsied and left. Now it was just you and Jaecerion. "I will have to leave tomorrow. A pang thundered against your heart. Trying to hide the tears you looked up at him. "I will miss you. Jaecerion." His face was close to your. Saphire eyes lingered on every inch of your face. He took hold hands in his and pressed a delicate kiss to the fingertips.

You were shaking. Once Jaecerion left you and Owen would be alone. Lady Mari and Lady Dara would remain. But they were no substitute for those who had been near and dear since childhood. "When the battle is over I promise we will met again." You brought his hands into a close grasp. "But you will come back?" Jaecerion let go of your hands and placed them on your waist. Bringing you close, Jaecerion's lips were inches from yours. Hands went to Jaecerions shoulders. Looking into Jaecerion's eyes you noticed his eyes were black. He was looking deep into yours, taking in every inch of you. His pink lips were not far from yours. If either of you chose to lean forward then they would met. Jaecerion's grip tightened and his breath became shallow. Warmth spread down your back, over your chest and to every orifice of your body. Never before than you felt such deep emotions of this nature. Even towards your lawful husband. Jaecerion had always loved you, or at least for a long time. You wanted him, you needed him. Making up your mind, you leaned in close.

Cerilla stepped in, a creaking door announcing her entrance. Neither you nor Jaecerion moved. Both of you stared at a stunned Cerilla. She looked ready to say something, and she would have, if Jaecerion had not been there. "My Prince." All Cerilla did was curtsy and come back out the way she came. You watched her retreating form with mounting fury. No doubt this was an action born out of her hatred of you. Cerilla must have been under the impression that just because her sister was married to the heir that it was appropriate to show such disrespect. "I will show her different." You thought. If Cerilla thought she was getting away with anything you would be more than happy to dispel the fantasy. At this time she was no more than your servant. And just as how Ellyn treated you with scorn, so would Cerilla know how it felt.

Jaecerion too watched her retreat with dislike. "Is that the little bitch that followed you in Kings Landing?" You laughed at him calling Cerilla a bitch. Well, it was true. "Yes that is too. And it seems Cerillas' dismissal at Harrenhal has done nothing to temper." "What, she was dismissed?" Jaecerion looked at you in surprise. "Yes. It was actually your brother who did." Your grip on Jaecerion increased and you looked up at him. His lips were so close to yours. If only you could....

The chance was lost when once more the door was opened. Your luggage came in carried by those who had spirited you here. "My Prince, everything is ready." One of the knights bowed. "You are leaving now?" Looking up at Jaecerion your eyes were near tears. Seeing this, Jaecerion's thumb gently caressed your cheek. "Not for long. I am needed but call and I shall come." Jaecerion bent down and pressed his warm lips to your hand. He bid you farewell and you watched as he and the others left. The last thing you saw of Jaecerion, for now, was the tips of his silver hair disappearing through the door. Something sickeningly heavy was pressing against your chests. There was something so final about this meeting. A tear rolled down your cheek, and your shadow changed into a hooded figure.

That night dinner was brought up to you. Normally a woman of your station would dine in the great hall. But you were under cover and therefore had to remain hidden. Your ladies had not come back yet. It was no surprise that Lady Dara was not yet back. But Lady Mari was another matter. Anxiously you waited by the window, wrapped in a green shawl. A goblet of wine was in hand. Little Owen was fast asleep in his colt. You were not just waiting for Lady Mari, but Lady Jenna. Hence why you were still dressed in your day clothes'.

Your eyes were feeling very heavy. "I shouldn't have drank." But you were so comfortable in this chair. Time wore on by and slowly you drifted away from the working the world. The last thing you remembered the cold feeling in your wrists.

The forest was dead. All the leaves lay like corpses on the ground, lifeless. There was no wind. You watched through the forest, footsteps not making a sound. Your green dress, tighter than it was in the waking world, constricted you uncomfortably. There was no goal in mind, just the notion that you had to keep on walking. The shadows stretched out like boney fingers. Faces stared out at you from the Weirwood. This had ceased to frighten you like it used to. These dreams had a normalcy to them. That was not to say there was no unease. The unexpected could still happen. Blood spirting from the ground. A corpse grabbing you. Any of these things could happen.

And something did happen. A sudden sting appeared on your wrists. Blood stained the green dying it red. Shaking, you held them up to eye level. Blood ran down your arms like thin rivers. What was the meaning to this? The ground before you started to tremble. Just barely were you able to avoid falling over. A hooded figure like that of the Seven rose up to greet you. Opening its arms, the creature smiled showing two rows of sharp teeth.

A horrid jolt brought you back. Owen had started to fuss and someone was climbing the stairs. You could not hear anything, but rather you sensed it. On instinct you went for Owen. Scooping him up you held him securely. Owen was starting to calm down, only slightly. Lady Jenna, dressed in a magnificent emerald dress and a sweeping headdress glided in. Carefully you curtsied. "Y/n." She smiled and took you in her arms. Despite being forty years of age Lady Jenna maintained her youth. Only slight lines could be found if one looked close enough. Thin lips touched your cheek in a gesture of welcome. Thin hands then grasped your elbows. "I trust your accommodations are comfortable." You placed on a smile. "I thank you for the consideration." Lady Jenna lead you over to the chair. "Your son is beautiful. I heard you named him after your father." One of Lady Jenna's fingers stroked his thin hairs. Owen's eyes opened and surveyed the newcomer.

Nervously you tried to find the words. Lady Jenna could hardly be here simply for idle chit chat. There was something she wanted. Was it information you had been unable to pen? Your thoughts went to Cerilla and you wondered if Lady Jenna was angry. After all, they were in-laws, Lady Jenna's son being married to Cerilla's elder sister. "I heard that my husbands uncle wishes to confirm my sons rights." Seeing Lady Jenna's face you were quick to add "None of Owen's family have seen him." Lady Jenna, thank the Gods, was not angry. "Do not worry. They are ready to see you tomorrow. However I believe you need to rest. I apologize for not speaking with you alone earlier." "Of course, we are all busy. These are dark times." You replied. Lady Jenna smiled.

"There is something I wish to bring up." Lady Jenna stood to her full height. She looked down at you with her imperious gaze. Lady Jenna had sharp bright green eyes. They focused on an object, predator like, and struck. It was always best to avoid her displeasure. "Cerilla Swann will serve you. I hear you dismissed her at Harrenhal." The nausea swirling in your belly was almost unbearable. Throwing up was not out of the option. Trying to make yourself feel small, you spoke. "I never meant any offence. Lady Cerilla was spreading rumors which could impact our house." Lady Jenna's eyesbrows furrowed. "Lady Cerilla has put our houses honour to wuestion." You knew you had Cerilla at that moment. She may be Lady Jenna's in-law, but no threat towards house Tyrell would be tolerated. Not even by her.

"I will speak to Lady Cerilla. In the mean time I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. You will be expected to remain here, under the best care, of course. If you desire anything you need only ask." She shot you a dazzling smile and swept out of the room. Relief swept through you. Slumped over, cast under a sudden spell of exhaustion, you felt like sleeping. You blew out the candle casting your surrounding into darkness. Owen seemed just as sleepy as you. For the first time since being married you went into bed without one of your ladies. Owen sniffed and nuzzled in closer. A smile appeared on your face.

"Its okay. We will be alright." You drifted into a quiet sleep.

Days passed in a sleepy lull. Stuck in your room there was not a whole lot to do. It nearly felt like a prison, though in all fairness the room was not uncomfortable. Thankfully Lady Mari and Dara could join you. Less thankfully was the presence of Cerilla. You took great pleasure in sending her out on long errands. There was nothing she could do about it really. Her pale face would turn bright red every time, followed by storming off. There was the added benefit of not seeing her face as often. Days were spent reading, sewing and taking care of Owen. Your son was growing at a rapid rate and thankfully healthy.

On the fourth day of your stay routine was broken when Lady Jenna summoned you to her study. A group of lords including your deceased husbands uncle was also in attendance. "My Lady. It is good to see you again." Lord Tynar Lannister bend forward and kissed your hand. "Likewise my lord." Then the attention was given over to your son, their future lord. Proudly you showed him off to the men present. Once greetings were over everyone sat down. "My Lords, Lady Y/n. We are here to discuss Lord Owen succession to the head of House Lannister." It felt odd to hear your son referred to as "Lord Owen". "Lady Y/n will take on the title Dowager Lady Paramount of the West. We will ask that you return with us to Casterly Rock at the earliest convenience. Here you will remain for now. Once the false Queen Rhaenyra is overthrown you will be take your rightful place." Lord Tynar pulled out a piece of paper and set it out. "Normally the Lord Paramount will sign this himself. Given Lord Owen's age we will ask that you as his mother sign. It is just as legal and binding. In these situations the Lord Paramount will sign when he is older. But in the mean time this contact is just as binding."

You looked over the paper. Everything seemed to be in order. You could go back to Casterly Rock and rule from there. Naturally you would need help. The thought of being of charge of such a large wealthy region was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure. You would wield more power as regent than wife.

You signed your name.

Lord Tynar clapped his hands together. "Wonderful. That is everything in order." Lady Jenna raised a hand, cutting him off. She turned to you. There was a shrewd look in her eyes. What had you done? Hands clutched together you waited for it to fall. "Your son is heir to Casterly Rock. My sons' daughter is the same age. I suggest a marriage between our houses. It will unite two of the greatest houses in Westeros." Thank the gods she was not angry at you. You were so relived that you immediately said yes. And anyways, it was not a bad match. It would likely have happened anyway.

"Pardon me Lady Jenna. But this is rather sudden. Should we not all talk about it." Lady Jenna quickly spoke over you. "It is a perfectly fine match. Do you object?" Lord Tynar looked between Lay Jenna and yourself. He seemed to make up his mind.

You were stumbling around in the darkness. The forest was gone, hand been for some time. You would have preferred that over this impenetrable darkness. Somehow you were walking despite there being nothing under your feet. Yet you were able to move forward and back. Supposedly you could walk wherever. Not that this was any help. Everything was dark.

"You had a choice." The booming voice reverberated through you. Curling in on yourself it took everything to to faint from pure fear. Horrified you were rooted to the stop. Rocking back and for you wanted to be anywhere but here. Always you had hated these dreams. "You had a choice. Farwell." And then you were falling. As you fell the faces of nameless gods peered down at you. Everything was falling away. A figure reached forward and her eyes were upon you.

Something hand fell towards your face. Having just woken up you could do nothing to stop it. "Ouch!" Jerking out of sleepiness you now feel a burning on your nose. "What in the Seven." You realized the guilty culprit was a hand. Your hand. Sitting up you were still shaking. The dream was like a brand on your mind. It hurt something deep inside and instilled fear. It took you a bit to realized Cerilla was looking at you. "What." You snapped. She sneered and flounced out of the room. Now all alone you looked around for Owen with a feeling for dread. Thankfully he was safe and sleep in his crib. Reaching over you pick Owen up. He coos and opens his eyes. "Good morning." You kissed his nose. Owen smiled and you gently touched his ingrowing hair. It pained you that breast feeding was out of the question. Calling a wet nurse over you reluctantly handed him over. Once done you immediately took him back.

Afterwards you were able to walk along the battlements overlooking a courtyard. A slight wind brushed your hair, causing it to catch the light. Owen was bundled up in a blue blanket, his eyes looking around. Today had a serenity to them, the weather in perfect harmony. A guard was leading and Lady Dara brought up the rear.

The day was cloudy and slightly cool. "Do you think winter will come soon?" Lady Dara asked. "I suppose so. The maesters say it will." At your words Lady Dara looked up. "They might be wrong." She said hopefully. You doubted it. One could see an outline of the sun, obscured by clouds. A few were practicing in the courtyard. Yet it seemed that they were young, boys really. You guessed most of the able bodied young men were gone. "Most likely dead." A voice in your head said. The green cloak you wore felt heavy, the velvet pressed against skin. Other than that there was an eerie quiet that settled over Highgarden. Not even a bird in the sky. Despite the wind you had the sensation of someone holding their breath. You likened it to a scenario several years back. A tournament had been held in honour of the King and Queen. Two knights, you forgot their names, were jousting. They came at each other with great force and one of them flew off. You remembered Flora seizing you arm, and the vice grip seizing your stomach. For those few moments you held your breath, waiting in anticipation. Moments later it was pronounced he was dead. Your stomach had sank and the anticipation turned into dread. You were having the same feeling for reasons unknown.

"Is anyone else cold?" Lady Dara had an anxious look upon her face. "Are you alright?' You noticed she possessed a slight grey heugh. She looked as anxious as you felt. "Have you overheard anything?" You questioned Lady Dara. She fell into step beside you, leaning in. "They are saying Daemon Targaryen is looking for Prince Aemond." Chilled, you remembered the man. He had always off set you. "Has he found Aemond?" You asked. "I do not think so." Aemond had left Harrenhal and the place was currently deserted. Now only ghosts were the inhabitants. Was Alys there right now? It would feel appropriate, given she was a witch. You wondered how she was doing? Alys must be terribly angry at you. In her position you would. Trying to press down the guilt you continued to probe Lady Dara for information.

"They say Daemon has taken a mistress." Shocked, you stared at her. "This is only gossip, I do not know the truth. But its some little thing of a girl, only skin and bones I hear. No great but either and of no noble blood. Would you think it of him." Pondering, you wondered how Rhaenyra would take it. "Does she know?" You inquired. Lady Dara shrugged. "Who knows. If she's smart she will keep her mouth shut. You know they say he killed his first wife." Everyone had heard of Daemon Targaryen's infamous temper. A Targaryen trait if there ever was one.

If Prince Aemond and Daemon met, what would happen. Aemond held Vhaegar. You tried to convince yourself that the old she dragon would be enough. But Daemon, despite his age, was a veteran of many wars. Even before his birth the prince had been laying armies to waste. Apparently when waging war on the Triarchy he had cut their leader clean in two. If the two came to blows Daemon stood a good chance at winning. Perhaps his age would give Aemond a chance, though many said he was unchanged in physical prowess.

A great black cloud passed over the sky. "Look!" Lady Dara pointed up and the scene was almost unnatural. This cloud was not just dark, it was black. A pure oily black that put out the sun. Everything was plunged into dark, light was snuffed out. And that was when the sensation of holding your breath was replaced with the aftermath. An unexplainable feeling of dread. The wait was over and now a horrible feeling had crept in. The worst part was that you did not know what it was. Everyone continued to look up until the cloud passed. Even when the light came through nothing changed. The feeling did not go away.

Sleepiness crept upon you. Feeling sluggish you leaned back and allowed yourself to relax. You had spent the rest of the day bearing this dreadful feeling. Now at night you were too tired to feel anything but exhaustion. The bed was so warm and you were so comfortable. Owen was already asleep. A full moon made it easy to see outside. Large, it peered down from up on high. Somehow it offered a sort of comfort. Not thinking much about it you dozed off into sleep.

"Y/n." Your eyes shoot open. But when you tried to move, nothing. Your body was completely immobilized. Panic starting to set in you tried to move. Still no luck. You became aware of a presence on your left hand side. Where Owen was. Struggling you tried to break whatever this was. "Do not be afraid." The voice was low, but not deep. It was a woman's, low, slow and melodic. A figure rose up. She was dressed in white, hair hanging to her waist. You recognized her from portraits. Your mother was a shadow to you. She had died twenty years ago yet you hardly knew her. Such a non entity she had been that never once had you tried to figure anything about her.

The bed dipped when she sat down. You would have though this was a dream. But you knew it was not. The past few months had taught you that.

Lady Amelia gently brushed the hair off your head. Silently she took in every feature. Her fingers traced your cheekbones and lightly touched hair. A tear rolled down her cheek. "It is not too late. Go to the hidden gave by the Rose Door. It will appear for you and only you." And then she was gone in a wisp of smoke.

"Are you well My Lady?" Gazing out the window you watched the sun rise. Slowly is rose. The night was slowly retreating giving way to light. "Can you hear the birds?" Early morning dew wafted from the gardens bellow. It had been so long since you had walked in a garden. Somberly you watch the morning unfold.

"I would like to be alone." Silently Lady Mari left. All alone you were left to battle your misery. What a beautiful morning. It was so sad that it brought sadness. When was the last time you had truly been happy? Likely when Owen was born. Yet the grief you carried eclipsed all else. Closing your eyes a tear rolled down. You were so, so tired of everything. The past two years were hell. Not even the Seven Hells compared. There was no balm that covered these wounds. No satisfaction that soothed the anger. Fear was your constant ally. There was no way to pry it from you. Soon more tears joined and soon they all came together in a waterfall. Silently you stood there, taking it as you always did. Those small victories meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. This morning would only bring greater pain.

You did not know why this was. It was a sixth tense tugging at your very soul. Whatever was going to happen would rip your very soul apart.

The door opened and still you did not turn. No one would see you cry. Especially if it was Cerilla. "Lady Y/n, there is a messenger. He carries a letter from Prince Jaecerion." Panic overrides your pride. In a panic you seized Lady Mari by the shoulders. "Is he alright." Alarmed Lady Mari nearly jumped back. "Y...yes My Lady." Behind her stood Cerilla holding a message. Snatching it you order them from the room. Now left alone you ripped the seal off.

My Dearest Y/n,

I regret to inform you that Aemond has died. He fought Daemon Targaryen over Harrenhal and both fell with their dragons. I know this news will bring you anguish. I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I know you loved him. His mistress Alys Rivers and bastard have disappeared. They say she is a witch.

We will bear Aemond's body back to Kings Landing when we take the capital back.

I want you to know that I am eternally your servant.

Love, Jaecerys

There are pains too great to put into words. You did not scream, or cry. Like a wounded beast you hunched over. Cold stones met your hands. Like a child hurt you doubled over onto the floor. You had your fair face of agony, both physical and mental. Humiliation and a loss of self had been heaped upon you. It all paled to this. He might have been a stranger during these past two years, but Aemond still held your heart. You remembered the young boy, and your last day with Aemond down at the alcove. How you smelt the water on his skin, and his silver hair in the wind. It all faded before you. Aemond was gone from this world.

He was gone from you.

Notes: I'm back! School had me very busy and I needed to rest. This chapter was hard to write which is the other reason this chapter took so long to write. For now updates will be more frequent. This story is close to wrapping up (at least part one).

Some of you might ask why the reader is so subservient when it comes to Lady Jenna. Despite the reader having backbones there are several reasons for his. Firstly, the reader has been taught to respect authority, sense why she allows her life to be used by others around her. Lady Jenna is the family matriarch and the reader has seen her word as law since she was a child. Two, she has little choice. A war is going on and Lady Jenna is far more powerful than her.

I want to thank everyone for their patients!

If you want to join the taglist please let me known!

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem reader #amond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #Loyalty #aemond targaryen x reader angst #aemond angst #aemond x reader angst #hotd angst #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #alys rivers #alys x aemond #ellyn baratheon #ellyn baratheon x aeomnd targaryen

[aaliyg]

Teach Me

Word Count: 2.6K

Prompt: One Night Stands

Warnings: shurixblack!fem!reader, bartender!shuri, car masturbation, couch sex, vibranium strap, oral sex, fingering, squirting, cursing, drinking, overstimulation, praise kink, voice kink, begging, mommy kink, dirty talk, pet names, multiple orgasms

Dialogue Color Code: Shuri, Reader

enjoy ♡

Now who sent you to go out to the club tonight?

Oh right, your friends did. You sighed in exasperation to yourself as you glanced at the crowd, watching your friends whine up on anyone who was willing to catch it. The red cup of Hennesy in your hand had been emptied long ago, but the effects had barely kicked in yet. Though you were never against parties, this one in particular was…packed to say the least. You looked at the pool outside of the room, biting your lip in thought. Having made your decision, you glided your way through the crowd, and let the most sober out of your friends know where you would be. 

Getting to the deck proved to be harder than anticipated, but you finally situated yourself on one of the lawn chairs scattered around the body of water. It seemed that no one was interested in the deck at all, so you had the whole space to yourself. To your surprise, there was a separate bar by the pool as well, and the bartender there wasn’t so bad on the eyes either. You sat on one of the stools, causing the bartender to look up at you, waiting for your drink request. 

“What would you like to have tonight ma’am?”

Your eyes widened at her thick accent, but you quickly got yourself together so that you could answer her question.

“Can I have a Gin and Tonic?”

“Are you ordering that to make my life easier?”

You chuckled softly at her question and shook your head.

“Nah, I just wanted something that was cheap.”

The bartender blinked slowly at you as she cleaned a glass.

“Well, I could make something for you. On the house.”

The way your eyes widened must have been ridiculous as you quickly shook your head.

“No, no it’s alright. Don’t you have to make money for these people anyway?”

“I volunteered my services to them, so any money I make goes directly to me. Now I’m going to ask you again…”

She leaned closer to you, forcing you to inhale her scent.

“Can I make you a drink, beautiful?”

You looked her in the eye, shocked at her boldness.

“Well- I- um…”

“You..?”

She raised her eyebrow at you with a small smile on her face, waiting for an answer.

“Alright, alright. Go ahead and make something for me.”

“Anything in particular that you’d like gorgeous?”

“Surprise me.”

She beamed with pride, swiftly grabbed a tall glass, and got to work. You felt like you had become hypnotized by the way her slender hands moved around the bottles, and within seconds, you clapped your hands delightfully as she slid over her finished product.

“It might be a bit strong but…”

Her eyes watched you warily as you sipped the drink, but her worries melted away when your brows shot up in surprise. 

“This has to be like the best drink I’ve ever had in my life!”

“I’m glad you like it, then.”

“There is no way in hell you made this on the spot. You don’t got a recipe back there right?”

She smiled sheepishly at your praise and looked at the glasses that were situated at the bottom of her bar.

“Honestly, I should’ve written it down, huh?”

You nodded as you took another sip of the drink and grinned at her. A surge of boldness took you over as you placed the drink down, and now you wanted to see where this encounter could lead to.

“Pretty girls who make drinks like this shouldn’t go without a name you know.”

Now it was your turn to lean into her space. You could practically see the lust cloud her eyes, making them even darker than they already were before. She hummed in response to your shift in behavior, her eyes raking all over your upper body.

“Only good girls who behave get to have my name, princess.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to teach me how to behave then.”

Hooded eyes met yours as you smirked at her, waiting for her rebuttal. She quickly glanced at the living room inside the house, which was slowly filtering out people by the minute.

“The party seems to be dying out. Why don’t I take you back to my place? I can give you a few lessons.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her, genuinely surprised at how fast everything was going. Your intrusive thoughts took over before you could think, and you nodded your head eagerly.

“I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart.”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl. Follow me.”

You both gathered your belongings and made your way to the parking area outside the house. To be honest, you didn’t know what to expect, but a silver Tesla was definitely not on your list. You watched in awe as she calmly opened the passenger door for you and quickly took her own seat after you had settled in. After about twenty minutes, you two were cruising on the highway, enjoying the empty roads that came with the late-night drive.

You shuddered gently when her fingers brushed against your thigh, and the coldness of her rings were definitely adding to the goosebumps that were covering you. 

“Mind giving me a show for the road baby?”

“What kind of show would you like?”

“Surprise me.”

You bit your lip in thought and smirked softly when an idea popped into your head. Without a word, you shifted around in the seat so that your legs were facing her, and you slowly parted them open. The look on her face was utterly priceless as she realized what was going on.

“Do you go commando for every party you attend, or am I just really lucky?”

You slid your dress further up your hips, fully exposing your core to the chilly air. It felt as if her eyes were practically burning into you as you rubbed your clit slowly.

“Eyes on the road, beautiful.”

She glared at you softly but paid attention to what was ahead of her. The way you were moaning was more than enough to satisfy her.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Oh? So I can’t look but I can instruct you?”

“You said you’d give me some lessons right? Make this lesson number one.”

“...Keep rubbing your clit until I say otherwise.”

You leaned your head against the window, spread your legs wider, and rubbed at your clit slowly, whining softly from the pleasure. 

“That’s a good girl.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you continued to play with yourself. Small bits of pleasure shot up your spine as your orgasm slowly built itself up. Your fingers sped up a bit, and you began to roll your hips with them, eager to cum all over the front of the car. It felt as if all the oxygen in your lungs had disappeared, as you found yourself gasping for air from how good your pussy felt.

“Fuck, baby girl. You gonna cum already?”

“Hnn… Oh fuck- mhm…”

“Go on, let that shit out baby.”

You groaned loudly as your release hit you dead on, and you swore that you saw stars for a second. Something about her voice being directed at you in such a way made you feel like goo. Your legs trembled as you came down from your high, and you sighed softly as your pussy drooled out the last of your climax onto the seat. 

“You alright baby?”

“Yeah, I just…wow…”

She chuckled softly at your response and parked the car in the garage of her home. 

She gently scooped you up, carried you inside, and placed you on one of her armchairs in her living room. You looked at her sheepishly as she placed your legs on the arms of the chair and knelt down to be eye-level with your cunt. She dragged her index finger across your folds, causing you to hiss softly from how sensitive you still were.

“I got you beautiful. Don’t worry.”

Your breath hitched when her tongue pressed flat against your hole, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure and moan as she ate you out. 

“Oh shitt mami!”

You could feel her smirk as she paid attention to your swollen clit, alternating between sucking on it and flicking her tongue against it. Your thighs began to shake once again, and you scrambled forward to grip at her hair, effectively drowning her when you came on her face.

“Fuck-! Ohh SHIT YES FUCKK!”

Eventually, you let her hair go so that she could come up for air. She looked so smug with herself, eyes blown out in pure lust as she licked away the rest of your release that was flowing down her chin.

“You didn’t tell me you could cum like that princess.”

You panted softly as you looked at her, feeling lucky that you met someone this…talented.

“I didn’t know I could until tonight.”

“Let’s see what else you can do, then.”

She reached her hand out to you, which you took gratefully. Your gratefulness quickly turned into confusion when you realized that you two were not moving anywhere.

"Uh. Are you waiting for something orr?"

"No, just admiring you…"

She bit her lip in thought, and you could practically see the light bulb go off in her head when she figured out what to do next. 

"Take off the dress and squat in front of the chair baby girl."

That sentence alone caused you to buzz with excitement as you peeled off the rest of your clothes and did as you were told. You looked up at her, trying to keep an innocent face on your features.

"Like this mami?"

"Exactly like that beautiful."

You watched in anticipation as she knelt next to you and slowly dragged her hand down to your cunt.

"I want you to look at me while I play with this pussy. You think you can do that for me sweetie?"

You rolled your hips impatiently, wanting her to continue what she was doing, but her hand moved out of the way just in time.

"C'mon baby. Look at me so we can continue."

You gulped and shifted your head to the left, looking at her in the eyes.

"Please play with my pussy mami… Need it so badly."

Her fingers traced along your folds, making sure to get them covered in your juices before two of them slid into your heat. They both curled up inside of you, which made your eyes water from how full you felt.

"That's a good girl. Fucking leaking all over my fingers. You like the way my fingers feel inside you beautiful?"

At this point, your vision had been blurred out from the tears gathering around your eyes, but you made sure to keep them on the woman next to you. You let out a strangled cry when her fingers began to fuck you, and she watched in awe at the way you took her in and drenched her in slick. She wasted no time in speeding up her hand and grabbing your chin to look at her. She looked at your face and chuckled softly, planting a gentle kiss on your lips. A stark contrast to the way she was beating up your pussy.

"Look at you. You look absolutely exquisite taking my fingers like this. It's like you were made for them. Aw, are you gonna cum again? Come on, be a good girl and cum for me."

That damn accent was going to be the death of you, you thought, as you squirted against her fingers. You moaned loudly as she pulled them out and began rubbing at your clit again.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK it's too muchh!"

"One more for me, beautiful, then I'll give you a break, mkay?"

You nodded and groaned loudly when another orgasm washed over you, and you watched her as your pussy leaked gently onto the floor. She brought her fingers up to your lips, and you licked them clean without hesitation. She gently led you over to the couch and sat you on her lap so that she could give you kisses along your face and neck. Her hands gently rubbed circles on your thighs and hips, which helped you to come down from your high.

"I'm gonna get something from my room really quick okay?"

"Alright, no problem."

She placed you on the couch and swiftly made her way upstairs to get what she needed. This gave you more time to look around the room and really take in how beautiful her home was. You took special note of the two pillars supporting the archway that were carved to perfection. They looked like they had been pulled straight from the Renaissance era, and you wouldn't put it past her if that was the case. Eventually, she came back down with her hands behind her back, mischief written all over her face. You quirked an eyebrow at her suspiciously, which she responded to by smirking at you.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth please."

"And if I don't?"

"Then we'll just be stuck here, and that'll get awkward."

You giggled and did what she said, your confusion rising even more when something was placed on your tongue. You let your tongue trace along the object, trying to figure out what it was. Above you, you could hear her breathing become more punched out as if what you were doing to the object was affecting her too. 

"Keep your eyes closed and lean back on the couch baby."

You laid down and gasped in surprise when she gently lifted your leg on her shoulder, pulled you towards her hips, and pressed the object against your clit. 

"May I open my eyes now ma-MI!"

You scrambled for something to hold onto when she slid the object inside of you, whining when her thumb swiped against your clit.

"There you go, baby. Look so pretty taking my dick like this.” 

She kissed your calf and rubbed your thigh gently, grinning at how blissed you looked right now.

“You can open your eyes now."

You peeked your eyes open, and you were graced with the sight of her hooded eyes looking at where you two met. You sighed softly as her hips rolled, allowing the strap to sink deeper inside of you.

"Oh God- fuckk yes right there..!"

Your back arched involuntarily when it hit your spot dead on, causing a short stream of arousal to shoot out of you as the object slid out a bit.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me."

She sped up her thrusts a bit, keeping a steady pace that had your mind blank out from the feeling of it all. You pushed your head into the sofa to muffle your sounds while your hand went to grip hers.

“Fuck you’re gettin' all sloppy for me now. So fucking good princess. So fucking good.”

She sped up her movements, causing both of you to moan loudly. After placing your leg down, she pressed herself against the front of your body, locking you into a mating press. You looked into her eyes when she grasped your face in both of her hands, your moans becoming intertwined with each other.

“I’m gonna cum! Oh fuckk!”

“Fuck baby me too- Ohh shit…”

She rested her head on your chest as you both rode out your orgasms. After a few minutes, she gently pulled out and rested against your chest again.

“Shuri.”

“Hm?”

“I said that only good girls get my name didn’t I?”

Your eyebrows rose in realization, and you giggled softly.

“I was taught well, then.”

She chuckled and kissed you gently.

“I think you’re just a really good learner princess.”

honestly this may be one of my favorites so far

++NEXT++

well then-

i hope yall were well-fed ♡

#shuri smut #smut #shuri udaku #shuri x fem!reader #shuri udaku x reader #black panther smut #black reader #shuri x reader

[myymi]

“So, how's it feel to be the errand boy for once, Dread?” The echidna rolled his eyes before turning to give the bat an unimpressed frown.

“Shut yer mouth, Batten.” He grumbled, turning his attention back to the tree he was climbing. The woman snorted but ended up flying away to look for the little fox that came with them to the small island.

Once he collected the three coconuts this tree held, he looked around the island to try and get a glimpse of yellow or white fur.

He stiffened when something smacked into the back of his head, quickly turning to look behind him. He could see Batten waving him over, a certain glint in her eyes he wasn't used to seeing.

With a frown, Dread jumped down from the tree and ran over to where his fri– crewmate was. Batten pulled him behind a rock when he was close enough, motioning to keep his voice down.

“What's wrong with ye?” He whispered, raising a brow when the bat carefully peeked around the rock they were crouched behind.

“Look.” She nodded her head to tell Dread to take a peek himself. When he did, he figured he was seeing things.

He was pretty sure Sonic went back to his home.

“Who is that?” He asked as he ducked back behind the rock. It couldn't be Sonic, could it?

“Not sure.” Batten mumbled as she turned to face Dread. “I saw Sails with him.”

Dread felt even more confused now. Sails didn't go up to strangers without the crew with him. Was he fooled by this landlubber’s disguise?

The surge of anger that passed through his nerves at the thought of the youngest crewmate being hurt by this landlubber was a strange feeling, but he welcomed it.

He found he actually enjoyed protecting the crew. For once, it seemed to be more important than any treasure in the sea.

Dread drew his sword as he peeked out from the rock once again, surprised to see that the hedgehog was gone.

He slowly rose to his full height, eyes darting all around the surrounding area to try and locate the stranger. Batten stood up with him, carefully wrapping a hand around her own sword.

Dread nearly jumped out of his skin when a finger tapped his shoulder. He quickly whipped around, making sure to keep Batten behind him as he aimed his sword at whoever touched him.

Sails raised a brow at the echidna's actions, his head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Sails?” Batten asked, equally as confused as the little fox. Her eyes carefully scanned over the fox, looking for any injuries as his mechanical arm slowly lowered the sword pointed at his face.

“Aye, lad.” Dread sighed heavily, resheathing his sword, “Where'd ye go?”

“Just over there,” The kit jabbed his thumb to the right, exactly where that landlubber was standing moments ago.

Just as the echidna was about to ask the fox about the hedgehog, the stranger appeared at the youngest’s side. He had a lazy grin on his muzzle as he threw an arm around the other's shoulder.

“Get yer paws off Sails, ye landlubber!” Batten growled, pulling out her sword but refraining from pointing it at the hedgehog just yet.

Sails and the hedgehog seemed to exchange a glance at that, “Uh, it's alright, Batten.”

“What’d ye mean is alright?” Dread asked, glaring at the hedgehog. He was very quiet, “That ain't Sonic, Sails.”

“I know he ain't Sonic, Dread.” The fox rolled his eyes, gesturing to the mobian leaning against him, “His name's Tonic.”

“Tonic?” Batten questioned, the grip on her sword tightening.

Sails nodded, a paw resting on his hip as the hedgehog gave them a two finger salute. “He ain't sure how he washed up here, but he has no way to find his crew. Figured we could go ask Captain Rose if there's anything we can do for ‘em.”

“Are ye sure, Sails?” Batten looked down to the fox, her pose relaxing slightly when she saw how calm he was.

“He ain't gonna hurt us.” The kit argued, ending the conversation by walking away. Tonic was behind the fox immediately, not caring to stick around the bat and echidna without him.

“We're gonna keep an eye on tha’ one, right?” Batten crossed her arms as she looked over to Dread. The echidna nodded with a frown, not taking his eyes away from the hedgehog.

He didn't trust him. But Sails did, and he knows that kid has a harder time trusting people than anyone else abroad Angel's Voyage 2.0.

Black Rose might give him a chance for Sails, but he's absolutely done for if he does anything to hurt the fox.

It had become an unspoken rule between the crew after they had finally learned the full extent of the kit’s past.

Sails was their number one priority now.

#i wanted to write more for this but was worried id miss wsatw so #whatever; he's tonic meeting everyone but catfish and black rose #and yes the crew are protective over sails #he's their baby #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #sth #tails the fox #sonic #unbreakable bond #dynamic duo #knuckles the echidna #rouge the bat #sails the fox #tonic the hedgehog #sonic au #sonic prime au #sonic prime spoilers #sonic prime #myydrabs #after prime au #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wholesome wednesday #wsatw #if you see any mistakes no you don't

[whimsymanaged]

FirstPrince Falling in Love 100 Different Ways (3/100)

Based on rizcriz’s prompt: Alex and Henry in line at a bar both waiting for their turn. Henry accidentally cuts Alex, and he expects Alex to get mad but Alex is far too attracted to him to be mad

“Buy me a drink, and we’ll be solid.”

-

The bar is, for lack of a better word, hoppin’, and Alex feels like he’s been waiting to get the bartender’s attention forfuckingever. He glances over his shoulder at where Nora and June are laughing over something on Nora’s phone and feels a surge of FOMO. He’s even more impatient when he turns back to the bar, but to his relief, the bartender’s finally looking at him.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.

Alex is opening his mouth to reply when a crisp British accent calls out, “Two Moscow mules, please.”

What the fuck? Alex whips around, ready to cuss the hell out of whoever just had the audacity, when he’s met with the most wide-eyed, sweet-faced, offensively tall man he’s ever seen.

“Oh, Christ, I’m so sorry,” the man says, a very attractive flush spreading across his spectacular cheekbones. “I didn’t mean to cut the line.”

Well, isn’t this interesting. Anger vanishing as quickly as it came, Alex props his elbow against the bar and raises his eyebrows. He has to tip his chin up to look at the man, and he’s not even a little bit mad about it. “Buy me a drink, and we’ll be solid, sweetheart.”

The man’s flustered expression turns to surprise then to interest. His gaze slides over Alex, warm and lingering. Then, his full pink lips tick up, and he holds his hand out. “I’m Henry.”

“Alex.” Alex shakes Henry’s hand, and if he rubs his thumb across Henry’s knuckles while doing it, fucking sue him. “Gin and tonic, by the way. Make it quick, yeah? I’m not very patient.”

“Hmm, too bad,” Henry says, his smile turning into something more suggestive. “I like to take my time.”

God. Fuck. Alex is so interested. “You got two drinks, right? Are you with someone?”

“My best mate,” Henry says. “What about you?”

That makes him realize he completely forgot about Nora’s and June’s drinks. “My sister and best friend. I have to order for them, but after that, do you want to—”

“Yes,” Henry answers immediately.

“I didn’t even finish,” Alex protests with a laugh.

“Pity.” Henry smirks, eyes bright. “We can remedy that later tonight, if you like.”

Motherfucker. Alex casts one more look at Nora and June, who are now watching him and Henry with open curiosity. Nora sticks her tongue into the inside of her cheek and thrusts it in and out.

Alex quickly looks back at Henry. “Would your friend be cool with me coming over to your table?”

Henry smiles. “I’m sure he would. I could even send him off to entertain your sister and best friend, if you’d like. He’s a lot of fun. Very respectful.”

“Fucking excellent.” Alex is almost vibrating with excitement. “Let’s do that.”

#firstprince #rwrb fanfic #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #FirstPrince 100 Ways

[evanesdust]

the best start to a new year

written for- @sterekfests prompt: "Kiss me at midnight." @sterekweekly word: kiss @sterekmonthly word: beginning @sterekbingo square: dancing @imagine-sterek's 24, the sterek 2024 event

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Additional Tags: POV Stiles Stilinski, Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Established Relationship, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Surprises, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss

Summary:

Stiles wished he could be at home with Derek celebrating New Year’s, rather than working. So, he was pleasantly surprised to find Derek at the sheriff’s station, waiting to ring in the New Year with him.

Stiles sighed for what had to be the millionth time in a handful of seconds. If he'd known being the newest deputy for the Beacon County Sheriff's Department meant he was relegated to the shitty shifts, he might have reconsidered joining. Shouldn't being the sheriff's son have some perks? Like, at the very least, not working on New Year's Eve when he could be spending the evening with Derek, cuddled up on the couch under the soft throw blanket they kept there, waiting for the ball to drop.

Instead, he was stuck in his cruiser, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee and scanning the quiet streets, half hoping for some misdemeanor to break up the monotony. Not that he wanted anyone to get hurt or anything, but a little bit of action wouldn't be unwelcome.

Stiles wondered what Derek was doing. He'd tried to convince him to go to Lydia's for her annual New Year's Eve party, but Derek had given him a look of such deep skepticism that Stiles had dropped the subject almost immediately. Probably for the best, Derek and social gatherings didn't exactly mix like gin and tonic. He'd probably be at the loft, brooding over a book or working out, the usual fare for a quiet evening in Hale territory.

The clock on the cruiser's dashboard blinked 11:48 PM. Mocking him. Twelve more minutes until the new year, and there Stiles was, about as far from confetti and countdowns as he could get. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel with a resigned huff, feeling every bit a petulant child rather than a deputy of the law. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was anywhere but here.

A sudden chirp from the radio broke his reverie; a call was coming in. With a jolt, he was all business, reaching for the handset.

"Deputy Stilinski here," he answered, his previous thoughts vanishing instantly as dispatch requested him back to the station. An unexpected surge of adrenaline pulsed through him as he responded with a quick "10-4 en route."

He put the car in gear and maneuvered the cruiser through downtown, hoping it wasn't anything serious. Not when he had plans to call Derek at midnight to wish him a happy new year, to hear his voice, and maybe imagine that he was right there beside him. Briefly, Stiles wondered if he could sneak away after this call to steal a moment with Derek, to ring in the new year together, even if it was after the rest of the world celebrated.

Stiles arrived at the station in record time, but nothing seemed amiss. No other deputies were rushing about, and even the dispatcher, Marley, had a relaxed air as Stiles approached. Confused, he tilted his head and asked, "What's the situation?"

"No situation. Just head into the bullpen." Marley smiled in a way that made Stiles instantly suspicious. 

He raised an eyebrow, about to inquire further when he was cut off by music blasting from the other room—*NSYNC, if he wasn't mistaken—and when he walked through the door, he stopped dead in his tracks at the scene before him.

Instead of the chaos he expected, he found the bullpen transformed into a mini celebratory zone, complete with streamers, balloons, and twinkling fairy lights strung across the room.

Stiles grinned so hard he thought his face might split in two as he glanced at the very last person he expected to see tonight.

Derek.

"What is this?" Stiles asked, even though it was obvious Derek had set this up for him. His heart swelled at the thought that Derek had gone to all this trouble just to give him a New Year's surprise. Derek’s gruff exterior, the one he presented to the rest of the world, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a softness in his eyes, a tenderness that was reserved for Stiles alone—something that always left Stiles feeling like the luckiest guy alive.

Derek looked as content as Stiles had ever seen him. A smile tugged at his lips as he simply said, "Surprise."

"I'll say." Stiles stepped closer, noticing there was even a bottle of sparkling grape juice on his desk, along with two plastic flutes. "You did all this for me?"

"Yeah," Derek replied, his voice carrying a warmth that settled deep in Stiles's chest. "It's our first New Year's together in an official capacity. I wanted to spend it with you, even if you're on duty."

The lump in Stiles's throat was unexpected, and he swallowed hard, feeling an overwhelming rush of affection. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just...come here," Derek gestured him over, and Stiles didn't need to be told twice. He crossed the room in a few strides and wrapped Derek in an all-consuming hug that was met with equal fervor. And though it didn’t fit the beat at all, they swayed to the music—a private dance in their makeshift party.

When they finally broke apart, the clock on the wall drew Stiles's attention, showing it was only moments to midnight.

"Happy New Year," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Derek's lips, tinged with the promise of the year to come. Derek reciprocated the kiss, deepening it just as the sound of cheers and fireworks from the outside world filtered in. But they were in their own little bubble, the celebration outside dimming in comparison to this moment. As the kiss ended, Stiles couldn't help but laugh. "Best start to a year. Ever."

Derek's answering chuckle rumbled against Stiles's chest, a sound so deep and genuine it made everything else insignificant.

"Happy New Year, Stiles," Derek murmured, his eyes shining with mirth and something softer, something that said this was just the beginning.

As the last remnants of the 'Happy New Year' chants echoed outside, Stiles and Derek shared another kiss. One that drowned out the world, ringing in a new year in the best way possible.

Together.

#sterek #sterekfests #sterekfestswinter2023 #sterekfestsmidnight #sterekweekly #sterekweeklykiss #sterekmonthly #sterekmonthlybeginning #sterekbingo #imagine sterek #holy shit i wrote something

[dysfunctional-doodle]

does orange get a specific type of seizure each time he overworks himself? is it different depending on how he overworks himself? does he sometimes get partial seizures (focal, myoclonic, things like that) sometimes?

Very good question! I am eventually going to write an accompanying fic for this, but I’ll explain my ideas briefly:

He doesn’t really have any specific seizure due to the mystic nature of the source - power overloads, in short, surge throughout his core and affect his brain/lobes due to the influx in energy. Instead of easing his powers out over years of training, he did the equivalent of break the glass - now it’s broken it can’t be fixed, and any repairs made are much more prone to breaking than before.

His generalised seizures occur at any point, but much more likely if he is stressed or is using his powers (something I will touch on in the fic is that he has to be careful when using his mystic energy, doing certain exercises and meditations to try and repair this figurative glass a little to avoid it bursting throughout his body). The stress causes a fight or flight reaction, which in turn slowly activates his mystics until they overload. These seizures are much closer to Clonic seizures (twitching, like being electrocuted in layman’s terms) for up to 10 minutes (which is longer than what a Clonic seizure would usually be, but this can vary depending on how severe the build up was) or (especially if he overworks his powers/sudden surge of powers at once) Tonic-Clonic seizures (which is what people typically think of when they imagine a seizure) however these differ than what would be expected by having more jerky movements with his mystic energy activating, highlighting the cracks on his body.

As for partial seizures (or auras, as some people might know them as but this is not entirely accurate) he does get monoclonic seizures, yes. Typically in his arms and hands when he does strenuous activity. He also has muscle locks unexpectedly, especially in the hands.

Donnie and Raph (rise) also have these muscle locks in the arms that they used to hold him in the movie, but not as frequently.

(I might also hc that 2012 Mikey gets monoclonic seizures due to his stint as Electro? But I will probably never mention it lol, I don’t like overwhelming people who read my fic with too many personal hcs)

If I am mistaken in any of my knowledge or have said something wrong, let me know! I always try to research as much as possible, but sometimes I am still ignorant no matter how hard I try, oops. I don’t ever mean to be insulting/offensive :)

#tmnt #tmnt asks #asks and replies #rottmnt #tmnt hc #tmnt headcanons #rottmnt headcanons #tmnt mikey #rottmnt mikey #post rottmnt movie #rottmnt movie #too many turtles #anon asks

[bugsims]

this year, jamba juice is thankful that their best friend is home, and that no one was guarding the feast!

#shaken soda legacy #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #ssl g2 #surge tonic #jamba juice tonic

[vicvinegarandhughhoney]

Can I lay by your side?- Prompt: Seizures

Fandom: That '80s Show

Pairing: Corey Howard/June Tuesday

AU where Corey has epilepsy, and Tuesday comes to terms with what that means when she witnesses a seizure for the first time.

Read here or below the cut

Corey's been staring at the same Metallica record for nearly two minutes. Tuesday knows this because she's been watching him for that amount of time, studying the glazed look in his eyes with concern that only builds the longer he remains like this.

Her first thought, admittedly, is that he might have taken something. After all, he's been staring at the same spot for a while as though he isn't seeing the same thing there as she is. Maybe he's hallucinating? Maybe he chanced his luck on a few more magic mushrooms than usual before his shift, and voila! Spacey Corey! Hell, it could even be that he smoked a little too much weed- he does look almost stoned…

When Corey’s zone-out session officially reaches the two minute mark, Tuesday decides that whatever it is, she needs to intervene somehow. She sets down the pile of records she was organising and hops over the counter, suppressing the urge to wrap him in an embrace from behind (if he's tripping, it's probably not the best idea) and instead placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay, babe?”

Nothing. It's like he didn't even hear her. His eyes are still fixed on the Metallica vinyl, expression emotionless. 

Tuesday swallows back a sudden surge of panic. “Corey?”

He blinks, and at last turns to meet her gaze. Something in his eyes just… isn't right, though. It's like he isn't all there. 

“Core?”

At his name being called again, he blinks. Snaps back into reality from whatever void he's been floating in. 

Except… no. This isn't Corey zoning out. Tuesday can tell immediately by the slightly panicked look in his eyes when he meets her gaze that something isn't right. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” She urges. 

“I…” He inhales sharply, then runs a shaky hand down his face. Even this one syllable seems slurred. “I can’t…” His sentence goes unfinished, trailing off into a deep sigh, so deep that his eyelids flutter closed and Tuesday is worried for a moment that he's about to pass out. “M… s-shit… seizure.”

Her stomach drops at his words. 

“You’re gonna have a seizure?”

Corey nods, and Tuesday well and truly panics. 

She's known Corey for six or so months now, and it's only during the last of these that they've been dating. They’ve had discussions about all sorts- aspirations, favourite flavour of ice pole (her lemon, him cherry), their respective childhood- usually laying in bed together or drowsily watching TV. Casual talks just like Tuesday’s heard are normal between couples. 

There was one chat, though, which was explicitly more important than the lazy discussions they typically had. Corey had sat her down one evening, pretty early on into their relationship. He looked nervous. Like he thought she was about to bolt out the door the moment he started speaking to her. 

“I, uh. I have a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah. A brain thing. A disorder. Illness. Whatever you wanna call it.”

“I… like what? Like- like a cancer?”

He’d rouged. “Oh, no. God no. I don't think so, anyway. It's- it’s epilepsy. It isn't… it isn't some big bad degenerative disorder, but that doesn't mean it isn't… messy… sometimes.”

“Messy?”

“Yeah. Complicated. Difficult. D’you… do you know anything about epilepsy?”

Tuesday had shaken her head. God, she wished she could have been more informed for him. She wished she could have made it easier, saved him the task of laboriously explaining everything to her. 

By the end of their talk, though, she'd been a little more confident about the subject. She knew that epilepsy was characterised by seizures, and though Corey did have the scarier ones (tonic-clonic, he’d called them), they were usually preceded by smaller ones. 

“It’s like the wiring sparking before the whole system shuts down. It's localised. Focal.” His voice assumed a vaguely professorial air. Tuesday listened, enraptured, to his lecture. “In my case, it looks like I’m just zoning out. They’re called absence seizures. Like ‘absence’, but French, I guess.”

“So how do I know whether you're actually zoning out or whether it's one of these seizures?”

Corey smiled sympathetically. “The aftermath is a pretty strong clue. I’m told that once you've witnessed a few, you get an eye for them.”

Tuesday hasn't witnessed a few. She hasn't witnessed any, until now, and the fact that Corey is probably about to have a ‘big one’ right in front of her is frankly terrifying. 

She breathes in deeply, pulling herself back to the here and now. “Okay. Okay. What- what do you need me to do? You should- you should lie down, right?”

“Mmm…”

“Are you- are you gonna go to the break room? It might be a little easier but-”

“C-can’t.” He murmurs in response, already lowering himself shakily to the floor just a metre or so away from the shelves. His blinking is growing more and more languid as he adjusts ever so slightly to get comfortable, and Tuesday remembers him telling her something about cushioning his head during that long discussion they had. She shrugs off her green jacket and rolls it up. 

“Here,” she says, kneeling down next to him and gently lifting his head to place the jacket beneath it as a makeshift pillow. “Is- is that good, Core?”

He hums and it's clear she isn't going to get much more from him verbally- especially because his eyelids are starting to flutter. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s… it’s going to be okay. I’m here.”

A small, pained whine bubbles up from his throat. His neck is starting to twitch a little. As are his hands. 

It must be terrifying to lose control of your body like that. To know that for the next few minutes, there's nothing you can do except let things happen. 

When at last his eyes fall closed completely and consciousness leaves him, Tuesday can't help feeling almost relieved in spite of the accompanying harsher motions. The fear in his eyes had been too visceral for her to stomach. This unnatural shaking is hardly easier to witness, of course, but at least he doesn't appear to be as aware of his situation as before. 

The bell on the door tinkles and Tuesday realises she's neglected to shut customers out for the time being. She curses and lifts herself up just enough to spot someone beginning to browse the shelves on the other side of the store, completely unaware of the medical incident occurring mere footsteps away. 

“Margaret!” she shouts to the back office. 

“What?”

“Can you- can you come out here please!”

There's the sound of footsteps from the back office, and Tuesday looks up to see Margaret standing in the doorway. She’s wearing her typical ‘one is not amused’ expression that is usually eye-roll worthy (except in situations like these, of course, where a little care and attention is definitely needed). 

“What?”

“Corey’s having a seizure.”

Tuesday's never seen a person's entire demeanour change so quickly. In an instant, Margaret’s features are softening, and she hurries to escort the single browsing customer out of the door with not a snide remark in sight. She seems genuinely concerned. 

“Okay,” she says as soon as he's gone, pulling the shutters on the door down. “Are you timing?”

“T-timing?”

“The seizure, are you timing how long it's lasting? We need to time it, Tuesday.”

Right. Of course. Corey definitely told her about this during that long conversation they had, and Tuesday flushes with shame at forgetting it. Thankfully, before she can even apologise, Margaret is pressing a button on her watch and turning her attention back to Corey. 

“You’re okay, Corey. It’s going to be alright.”

Her voice is so gentle. So gentle. The hand that she usually disgruntledly shoos customers away with now comes up to rest on his shaking shoulder, her brows knitted with motherly attention. 

“We’re both here with you, Corey. Nice and easy. It’ll be over soon, sweetheart.”

Tuesday hopes she's right. It's only been a minute or so, but to her it feels like a lifetime- God knows how long of an eternity it must feel to him. His cheek is flush to the floor now, eyes closed but lashes fluttering. Every so often, a low whine escapes the back of his throat like that of a wounded animal, the convulsive motions making it sound even more pained, like he's choking on his own fucking saliva. 

“Keep his head tilted up.” Margaret says calmly. “That’s it- just like that. Makes it easier for him to breathe.”

Easier? God, when did it get difficult for him?

She finds out quickly, her eyes moving to Corey’s chest. Amongst the jerking movements she makes out the irregular rising and falling for each breath. Starts to count them just to give herself something to do until all this is over. 

1.

A second passes. Then another. It feels as though everything is moving aside from his-

2. 

His lips are a little blue. Tuesday's only just noticed that. She reaches out a hand to rub against his trembling shoulder, waiting to feel another choking exhale before-

3. 

4.

5.

The breaths come in quick succession, and for a moment Tuesday sighs with relief. Until… silence. 

She waits another second. Two. Three. Still, amidst everything, she can't make out the movement of his chest. Her eyes widen with concern and she looks up to Margaret, only to find hers flash with panic as well before it's hastily concealed. 

“Corey?” Margaret calls. “Corey, sweetheart, take a breath for me.”

She reaches around, making a fist and rubbing against his sternum as if to encourage the reflex herself. 

“Come on, Corey. Breathe. You’ve got to breathe.”

Tuesday joins in now, too- her hand comes up to his jaw, her cheek to the ground in front of him so she's at his level. Desperation makes her voice tremble. 

“Breathe, Core. Breathe. Please.”

The rigidity dissipates for a second, and Corey takes a breath. Tuesday and Margaret immediately exhale theirs. 

“Good boy, Corey.” Margaret manages, smiling a little in a way that hides how close she was to tears. “There we are. Nearly over now.”

Tuesday’s gaze flits to the watch. “How long?”

“Nearly three minutes. It's starting to slow down now.”

If Margaret hadn't pointed it out, she would never have noticed, but it's true- the violent jerking motions are growing more and more infrequent with each second that passes. They fade into twitches, ones that Tuesday feels beneath her palm as she strokes his back, then stillness. Blissful, blissful stillness. 

She waits for him to wake up, for the lucidity to suddenly reappear in his eyes, but instead she's met with yet more unconsciousness. The only difference is that this time it almost resembles… 

“Sleep, Corey. That's it. We’re going to be right here when you wake up again.”

His breathing is slow and even now, a far cry from what it has been. Tuesday’s hand moves from his jaw to his forehead, brushing the sweat-damp hair back as she raises her eyes to meet Margaret's. 

“He’s… he's asleep now?”

“Mhm. Will be for a good few minutes. Then he’ll wake up. Then he'll probably go back to sleep again. He won't be back with it for a few hours, and even then he'll be exhausted.”

Oh. 

“I’m going to call Katie to come pick him up- I know you'll want to take him home yourself, but she's got a lot of experience with post-ictal Corey. You can always come with them.”

“Post… post-ictal?”

Margaret smiles faintly. “Yeah. Post-seizure.”

This is evidence enough that Tuesday is wholly unprepared for taking care of Corey right now, as much as she might wish otherwise. She sighs, and nods. 

“Alright. I'll come with them.”

“Thought so.” With a small grunt, Margaret pulls herself up from the floor she was kneeling on. “Right, I’m going to make that call.”

Tuesday doesn't quite know why her heart skips a beat. Perhaps it's the sudden responsibility. “Is- is there anything really important I need to do?”

The reply she gets is simple. 

“Just talk to him, Tuesday. Talk, and comfort, because when he wakes up, he's going to be confused and scared half to death.”

With these words, Margaret leaves her alone with only the faint sound of music playing in the background of the store and Corey’s almost-snores. She settles back on her haunches, heart still racing in her chest even as she observes this new stillness. 

“It’s… it’s alright, Core. I’m here.” 

Her hand begins to rake through the curls hanging limply over his forehead, soothing both herself and (hopefully) her boyfriend with the familiar motion. It's hard to tell whether it's comforting for him, of course. It's hard to tell anything at all when he's so unnaturally quiet. 

Distantly, she can hear Margaret's voice on the phone. 

“Just over three minutes… no… not as far as I'm aware… no, he didn't throw up… mhm… yeah, Tuesday's with him right now. We’re just waiting for him to come round.”

As if on cue, a small groan issues from the floor in front of Tuesday, she looks down to see Corey’s brow furrowed as if in pain. 

“Hey,” she greets, voice soft, ministrations softer. “You had a seizure, sweetheart, but you're okay now. You're alright.”

He sighs deeply, nostrils flaring. Shifts until the palms of his hands are pressed against the floor like he's about to attempt lifting himself up. 

“Easy, Core, easy. Don’t try to move just yet.”

Usually, her efforts to subdue him physically would be pointless- in the weeks they've been dating, he’s lifted her up for fun multiple times- but now it only takes a single hand to his shoulder for him to sink back down, exhausted and defeated. He looses another little groan, and Tuesday realises that he's trembling. Her heart plummets right to her feet. 

“Hey, it's okay! I promise you're alright, sweetheart.”

Slowly, she lowers herself to the floor beside him and moves to face him, taking a slightly-too-cold hand in hers while her other hand continues to card through his hair. His eyes open half-mast, frightened though still a little glazed. 

“Just talk to him, Tuesday.”

“You’re- you’re at Permanent Record right now.” She tells him, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. “And Margaret- she’s in the back calling your sister so she can come pick you up. I’ll stay right here with you, if- as long as you want me to, Corey, okay?”

He blinks slowly. Hums. 

Draws his free hand shakily up to his face to wipe his mouth, then lets it flop back down to the floor. Even this small movement has him breathless. Shaking again. 

“It’s okay, Corey. I’m here. Your sister’s on her way. You’re safe, sweetheart. Everything’s okay. I’m right here.”

His eyes don't leave hers the whole time she speaks, and Tuesday can only hope that he's understanding some of it. What she knows for sure, though, is that Margaret was right. 

Corey’s terrified. 

Aside from the trembling- almost shivering, now- there are tears beginning to form in his eyes. Tuesday hasn't seen him cry like this before. Ever. 

For a moment, her mind races trying to conjure up a solution from her conversation with Corey, or perhaps something Margaret said could help. There was a pamphlet she read too, and maybe… God, if she could just remember-

Fuck it. 

As gently as possible, she sits up and begins to manoeuvre Corey towards her, tentativity dissipating the moment he begins reaching for her with the same desperation she feels. It takes a few moments, but soon he’s laying against her, her arms wrapped around his middle while she whispers reassurances into his hair. It feels good to hold him, to feel the tension in his muscles loosening within her embrace. 

“Shh, you’re alright. You had a seizure, but you're okay now. I’m here. Your sister’s coming. Everyone's here to look after you, Corey.”

After a few minutes, Margaret emerges from the back room. She smiles when she spots the two of them. 

“See? I told you he'd fall right back asleep.”

Tuesday hadn’t even noticed, but now that she peers round, she sees that her boyfriend’s eyes are closed, and he's breathing deeply and evenly. Fast asleep in her arms. 

“Katie’s on her way.” Margaret continues. “Won’t be long now.”

Tuesday hears Katie before she sees her. The bell attached to the door tinkles urgently, and then there are hurried footsteps across the tile until golden curls and a concerned face follow them into her eye line. Usually the very picture of politeness, Katie doesn't offer a word to Tuesday before kneeling down at her brother’s side, and frankly? Who could blame her. 

“Oh, Corey.”

There's more conveyed in those three syllables than could be contained in a thousand-page book, especially when they're immediately accompanied by her hand smoothing back the hair on his forehead just like Tuesday had done. 

“We're gonna get you home, alright, Core? Nice and tucked up in bed before you know it.”

The smile she levels his way is wobbly. Of course it is- Corey’s so still in sleep that it would shake anyone's resolve. She spends a few more moments soothing him, then turns her attention to Tuesday. 

“The car’s parked just outside, so all we have to do is get him out there and into the backseat. Daddy's at home- that means we don't have to worry about getting him out of the car and into bed.”

“I think I can help lift him if you can get his legs?”

“Deal.”

**

Somehow, with their combined effort, they manage to lay Corey out in the back seat of the car. Katie takes the driver’s seat (‘I sure am glad my licence came through’) while Tuesday sits with her boyfriend’s head settled in her lap. The drive is thankfully only a short one- the easy commute is one of the things that drew Corey to the job in the first place- and soon they're pulling up into the driveway. To his credit, RT’s already standing outside waiting for them. 

“Alright, Corey.” he says, gentler than he's ever been as he leans over to lift his son from the back seat. “There we go, my boy. Your Dad’s got you now.”

In the months that she's known Corey, she's come to dislike his father. He's stingy, lazy, and all the ‘ists’ rolled into one- misogynist, racist, chauvinist etc etc. He doesn't look after his son often enough, because as a woman that's Katie’s job (and before her, it was his ex-wife who bore the task). For a moment, though, while she watches RT gather Corey in his arms and slowly retreat to the house, whispering assurances all the way, she doesn't hate him as much as usual. 

For a brief few seconds, he's simply a father carrying his son to his bedroom, just like he used to when Corey was tiny and fell asleep after a long car ride. 

Tuesday stays sat in the car for a while, the ghost of her boyfriend’s warmth still lingering in her lap while she tries to grapple with the day’s events. It's only when Katie comes out from the house after following RT in that she blinks herself out of her stupor and opens the car door.

“You okay?” Katie asks. It’s a testament to her personality that despite the worry she must feel for her brother, she's still taking time to enquire about the welfare of his girlfriend. 

Tuesday plasters on a fake smile and nods. “Yeah. Is… is Corey alright?”

The answer she receives is delayed by a few seconds that only deepen the pit in her stomach. 

“He’ll be okay. It’s just… well, he was seizure-free for a month or so and I think this one coming out of the blue has taken its toll on him a little. Physically and mentally.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Katie smiles, a sliver of the usual bubbly joy she exhibits, but an expression of quiet gratitude nonetheless. “He’s exhausted, but I think he'd appreciate you being there. Why don't you just go up to his bedroom and stay with him a while? It would be nice for him to know that this whole thing hasn't scared you away.”

Tuesday frowns. “Scared me away?”

A sad nod. “Unfortunately some of his… previous girlfriends… weren't super understanding. They're ready to accept him when he's just a cute guy with nice hair, but the moment he starts becoming a real human being with real struggles, they leave. He's ‘too much’ for them.”

“Oh God.”

“One of them- Hannah, I think her name was- well, he was at her place and they were watching a movie when he realised he was about to seize. She freaked out and kicked him out of her apartment because she didn't want him to ‘puke on her carpet’ and he ended up having the seizure out in the hall completely by himself. Luckily a neighbour heard some commotion and came out to see what was going on. She was the one who phoned the number on his bracelet from her apartment and told us what had happened- well, what she knew about it, at least. He’d hit his head during it as well, probably when he first lost consciousness, and when Mommy and I got there we ended up taking him straight to the ER. He needed stitches.”

“Jesus.”

“It was a good thing we went there as well, because he had another seizure at the hospital. They think it was stress-induced, you know, because of his girlfriend's reaction. He ended up staying the night.”

Tuesday swallows, heart sinking. “I had no idea.”

“I know- now come on, go and cheer my brother up so he knows you’re way better than any of those… unkind ladies.”

Katie takes her by the hand, marching her through the front door and up the stairs to the right until they reach Corey's bedroom. The curtains are closed, and nobody is in there except him. Tuesday takes a step in. 

“If you need anything, just come downstairs.” Katie whispers, disappearing before Tuesday can ask a single question more- not that any immediately spring to mind. The room settles into a silence only interrupted by the sound of Corey’s gentle snoring. 

It's odd to hear. He’s normally quiet as a mouse when he sleeps, but the knowledge that post-ictal (is that the word Margaret used?) Corey isn’t doesn't really surprise her. She's sure she would sleep a little differently after the medical equivalent of an electrical short-circuit in the brain. 

There's a seat pulled out at the side of the bed- perhaps it was where Katie was sitting while Tuesday was having a short existential crisis in the car. She lowers herself into it and watches Corey sleep for a few seconds. Brushes the curls from his forehead. 

Her presence must register somewhere in his unconscious mind, because he soon begins to stir, tired blue eyes opening to look at her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” she greets, still stroking his hair. “How are you feeling?”

He swallows. Opens his mouth then closes it like he's remembering how to speak properly again. “Mm… tired.” His voice is hoarse. 

Tuesday hums. “I’m not surprised. Just take it easy, alright?”

His eyes close briefly. “Takin’ it… easy.”

“You need anything?”

There's a pause, before he exhales a deep sigh and presses his cheek deeper against his pillow. “Just… you.”

Tuesday feels a swell of pride. “Me?”

“Mhm…”

Reluctantly, she pulls herself away from stroking his hair and instead crosses to the other side of the room where she can slip beneath the covers of his bed. The side sans Corey is of course cold, but it smells like him, and the moment he feels her shifting towards him he rolls over and envelopes her in a slightly shaky bear hug. 

“Mm… love you, Tuesday.”

She swallows past the emotional lump in her throat and strokes his hair as he settles with his head beneath her chin. “Yeah… I love you too, Corey. No matter what.”

The trembling strengthens for a moment and Tuesday can feel dampness seeping into the top of her shirt- right where her boyfriend’s face is pressed, conveniently buried away from her view. 

“It’s alright, Core.” she whispers, like it's a secret between only the two of them. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

They remain there until the trembling begins to subside. Until the gentle snores start anew. 

Until Corey is sound asleep in her arms without fear that she'll loosen her grip. 

#bad things happen bingo #that 80s show #corey howard #whump #seizure whump #med whump #glenn howerton

[childotkw]

If regulus was reincarnated into the Naruto verse, how much damage do you think he would do to the plot??

Hmm, I'd say it'd depend on which era he reincarnates in, the type of reincarnation we're talking (is he born into a ninja's body? is he in his own body? more dimension-hopping than reincarnation??) and if he keeps his magic or not? Naruto's universe has already got insane jutsu, so Regulus whipping out random spells wouldn't be completely out of place. At least at first.

He'd bamboozle most ninja though his obvious use of jutsu but no one can explain the shit he does at the same time because there's no surge of chakra to accompany any of his 'jutsu'.

Levitating shit? Surely it must be a wind jutsu of some kind but there's no breeze?

Teleporting?? Must be some variant of Tobirama's cheater jutsu (Madara's words), but it doesn't require any noticeable marker to move to?

Invading minds and skimming surface thoughts???? They're almost positive he's not a Yamanaka but blond hair is recessive so maybe one of his parents had dark hair??

Honestly, if he's in his original body, the only thing that they have over him is that he's not as physical as a ninja. He's slower, weaker, his reaction time is tiny, and his stamina is terrible compared to a ninja.

But he's not easy prey by any means.

This contradiction is interesting for whichever ninja stumbles across him because he moves like a soldier and can do things even jutsu struggle to emulate but only registers as a civilian to their senses.

For instance, let's say Regulus dies in the cave and wakes up in the forest utterly alone. He's got his wand and absolutely nothing else, but he's disorientated enough that he can't trust himself to apparate.

So he trots off, and eventually hits a tiny village - in Japan??? He thinks??? His Japanese is non-existent but he has enough strength for a translation spell that lets him communicate with a lovely elderly couple that take him in and help him recover.

His panic is slow churning but well-hidden when he eventually figures out that he is very much not where he should be. These people have no idea what England is, or what country they're in - they keep saying something like 'Land of Fire' and mention cities like 'Konoha' and Regulus is genuinely considering that this is a very vivid hallucination cooked up by his dying brain.

Still, he pushes on, recovering from his fatigue only to nearly have a heart attack when he's caught using magic to fix a broken plate. He's got one foot out the door when the old man, Aoi, just goes oh are you one of those ninja people? and Regulus is so confused that he just agrees without really understanding it.

Once he calms down enough, he slowly starts to put together the pieces and comes to the terrifying but somehow believable notion that he's in a different world.

And...well...he has no idea how to get back home. Doesn't really want to, in a way, because his life before had been dark and cruel and besides Kreacher he didn't really have anyone waiting for him. It hurts but Regulus has never been one to lie to himself.

So he lets himself mourn, spends some time coming to terms with his new reality, and then does what he always does - picks himself up and carries on.

He decides to make the most of this new place, first by repaying Aoi and his kind wife by repairing their home and (maybe) laying down some wards to keep them safe. He finds a new meaning in this simple life - helping around this little village, using magic-that-people-here-call-jutsu to help with the seasonal work, healing the sick and injured with improvised potions and tonics...

For the first time in his life, Regulus feels like he's making a positive difference. For the first time, he's using his magic to help people and he kind of loves it.

He doesn't mean to draw attention from Konoha, or to get involved in their politics. It's not his fault these annoying fucking ninja are crawling all over him like weevils, asking questions he's never going to answer. It's not his fault these assholes don't know when to take a hint, and it's not his fault that his short temper leads to him flattening some of them as a warning to stay out of his business.

Jokes on him though because that just makes these bastards more fascinated.

Regardless of the era, Regulus would completely derail things. It's just a matter of who he's unfortunately saddled with - the Founders, Kakashi's generation, or Naruto's.

Either way, he'd be beating curious ninja off with a stick.

#anonymous #HP #Naruto #regulus black #someone come save regulus from curious ninja #they all wanna know how he does jutsu without chakra #regulus just wants to live in peace but these assholes wont leave him alone

[sygol]

the man looked around hurriedly, hesitating for only a moment, he darted to action, swiftly scooping up the only thing in reach:

a tortoise.

surprised, the creature's legs dangled and her mouth thrashed for a good angle to bite, but alas, the man had a firm grip, lifting the tortoise above his head; the animal became a weapon..

devouring its own embankments, the river surged

the panicked beast didn't know a way out. the synapses traveling through her brain branched off into a lattice and formed a conclusion: the schema became a cage, and in this lapse of autonomy, the tortoise was left seeing only one choice;

dusk graced the petals, and the flower closed it's eye

she retreated further, bringing in her head and legs.. but this time, the inside of the shell was unfamiliar and much grander, the tortoise had never crawled this far down into herself, and in a state of tonic immobility, the creature's volition became entangled with the soul,

in swirling water, the flower forgot its way. now, the river would find her a new home.

she reached through the bars, and found an inner world.. warm relief soared into her being and it pulled at her instincts. tunneling her way out of the confines, she sought winding caves that danced in the depths of the mind

#t3 #t4

[weightloss-product]

A Green Boost for My Busy Life: My Experience with Tonic Greens Supplements

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The inclusion of probiotics and prebiotics was a welcome surprise. These gut-friendly bacteria play a vital role in digestion, immunity, and even mood regulation. Knowing Tonic Greens is supporting my gut health alongside overall nutrition gave me added peace of mind.

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Even my workouts received a boost. Gone were the days of feeling sluggish halfway through a session. Now, I can push myself harder and feel energized for longer. This newfound vitality translated into other aspects of my life as well. I felt more present and engaged with my family and had the drive to tackle personal projects I'd been putting off.

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#mental health #health & fitness #healthylifestyle #meditation #energy #Tonic Greens

[crescentblossom66]

Bond of the Beasts Chapter 2

The rain only got worse as they reached their home, Grooves and Conductor followed Cookie inside the house, carrying one girl each. The DJ had to focus hard to not fall with Bow Kid in his arms. The girl had fallen asleep in his arms, so had Hat Kid in Conductor's. “Hold on a moment.” Cookie swung her wand around once again, which added a few new rooms to the wacky house. “Bring them up to the rooms on the second floor. I'm gonna prepare some food and warm clothes for them in a moment.” The two nodded and made their way up.

“So...that girl, the one with the blue eyes, she was the one who caused that surge. She's no witch though, her powers are...greater.” Snatcher seemed to be in deep thought as his orange eyes followed the motions of the other two men as they headed up the stairs. Cookie, meanwhile, headed off toward the living room at the end of the hallway and pulled blankets out of the dresser.

After handing him the blankets, the red-haired woman headed back to the kitchen, which was located on the left side of the hallway. “That doesn't matter now. The poor girl needs help, we can talk about this later.” While Cookie headed to the new rooms for the girls she had just created, the vampire headed off into his room in the attic, apparently not all too concerned with the fate of them.

The witch opened the door to Hat Kid's room. The new owner of the pretty generically furnished kid's room had been carefully placed onto the bed by Conductor. Said person got startled and got snapped out of his thoughts when the door opened and he turned his head swiftly away form the young girl, there was concern in his voice when he spoke. “The wee lassie...ain't in a good shape, is she?” It appeared that his fears were not unfounded, as the urgency of the situation concerning the girl was clearly visible in Cookie's following quick motions and determined-looking eyes, as she brought a tonic she had gathered from the kitchen over to the fatigued and pale-looking kid.

“Can you lift her into a more upright position, Conductor? She'll choke otherwise.” He did as he was told and supported the back of the young girl. The smell of the liquid burned in his more sensitive sinuses, he disliked being a wereowl at the best of times, but pungent smells near him really tried his self control to stop his gagging reflexes.

“What the peck is this awful smell?! Bah! Ye know that I trust yer judgement, Cookie, but...Urg...” It smelled like decay, rotten eggs and a steaming pile of haggis combined! He could only pray that it was helping the poor lass more than than it was hurting his delicate nose. “Good thing that she cannae taste it in this state.”

Cookie made Hat Kid drink the rest of the vitalizing potion, and laid her back down carefully after. “It will, trust me, it's not the first time I made that potion, sweetie.” She locked eyes with him for a moment, that and the fact that she called him 'sweetie', even if she did that to almost everybody, caused the short man to blush slightly and avert his eyes. The young girl looked a little better after the potion and they left the room. “I'm gonna check up on our other guest too.” Cookie headed down the hallway to the room next to Hat Kid's.

The Conductor sighed. “What are we gonna do with 'em?” The question stopped Cookie for a moment and caused an awkward pause between them.

“...We should talk about it later, right now, I have a young girl that needs my help.” She didn't leave him any time to reply and simply opened the door, entering the room, leaving the wereowl in the hallway. He didn't follow, and instead walked down the stairs, back to his own living quarters.

The first thing that Cookie noticed when she entered the area was that the purple-eyed girl was awake, she was sitting as far away from the basilisk in the room with her, who gave the girl some space and seemingly tried to engage her in some small talk. “...this house here was created by Cookie's magic, you know, the kind woman who helped you with your...friend? Sister?” His smile didn't fade and exuded patience, even when the girl hesitated and avoided even looking at him. At least the girl was shivering a lot less than before, being out of the rain and in a warm house must have eased her somewhat.

The changeling briefly acknowledged that another person had entered and her mostly purple-colored skin turned into a deeper shade of the same color. Knowing that young changelings struggle to keep their skin color consistent, and that it mostly represented their current mood, made it easy for Cookie to figure out that the purple color was fear. “Where is Hattie?” Bow Kid asked her question in a somber and quiet voice, as if she was pleading.

“Hattie is doing better, don't worry, she'll recover. All she needs is rest, sweetie.” Cookie tried her best to reassure the child that they posed no threat, she bent down to her eye level and kept a soft smile, yet the young changeling looked disturbed which caused Cookie to almost cry. She had seen that behavior all too often among young magical creatures that had been mistreated and traumatized. It was more than obvious that the poor girl was experimented on and thus was very careful and afraid around stranger. The curly haired girl cowered and still tried her best to make herself as small as possible, she flinched when Cookie took a step toward her.

Cookie immediately took a step back from the young girl and looked at Grooves who seemed to be in thought. He moved his golden wristwatch up and down from his wrist around a quarter up to his elbow until it squeezed his arm and when back down to his wrist again. He suddenly stopped and asked the terrified girl a question. “What's your favorite color, darling?” Cookie gave him a slightly confused look, not quite understanding what the tall man was getting at. The DJ tried to lower down to the young girl's level, not wanting to appear threatening to her...surprisingly, the curly-haired girl answered, albeit in a quiet and slightly strained voice.

“...It's green...I like green.” Bow Kid still avoided looking at the two adults, she wondered why he asked that question, if she misspoke. Maybe this was a test and she gave the wrong answer?

“Green is a nice color, I agree with you, it's calming and beautiful, like nature, no wonder that a stylish young lady like you would choose it, darling.” Surprisingly, it seemed to work, the purple-eyed girl looked shocked for a moment and actually looked up at the DJ, who still smiled back at her.

“Really? You think it's a good color too. I...I didn't answer wrong?” The two adults exchanged worried glances for a moment.

“There is no wrong answer, sweetie, you can like what you like.” Cookie answered her calmly and the young girl gave her a look of both confusion and relief. “You don't have to worry, we're really not going to harm you or your friend.” The young girl was silent for a moment, but started to feel at ease more and more, her shivering stopped and she sat back up normally, no longer cowering down in fear.

Bow Kid took a deep breath before she spoke again. “...My name is Bow Kid, that's the name the...-” She hesitated for a moment and shook her head, trying to banish the memory of the cold and emotionless gaze that she got so used to over the years, out of her mind, “-...The scientists gave me. I prefer being called Bow or Bowie, like Hattie calls me. Hattie's actual name is Hat Kid, but I just call her Hattie, she's...my sister, my only family. If you can, please, help her.-” Bow Kid was almost pleading, she leaned forward a bit, her worry for Hat Kid overtaking her fear. “-She used her magic too much.”

“You're save here Bow, I already gave a potion to Hattie, she just needs a bit of rest, and she'll be right as rain again.” Cookie gave her a big smile and received a rather faint, but genuine smile in return. “You should get some rest too. I'll make you a nice breakfast tomorrow, I promise.” With that, Cookie left the young girl's room and headed down the stairs once again, leaving the changeling and the basilisk alone in the room.

The DJ noticed that Bow was still looking rather concerned and had turned a bit quiet again. “Is something wrong?” Bow Kid looked up at him for a brief moment and he decided to remind her that there was no wrong answer, as she seemed hesitant to give a reply. “There is no wrong answer, darling, you can tell me if something bothers you. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

Bow Kid calmed herself and took a deep breath. “...Are...Are those two scary men here too?” She recalled how the young and lanky one called her stupid and how the older, smaller man had yelled at her.

Unbeknownst to Bow Kid, DJ Grooves' eyes narrowed behind his star-shaped shades, his soft smile being replaced by a frown for just a moment. “Don't worry about those two. The Conductor may yell a lot and he can be quite rude and scary, but he isn't all bad.-” As much as he hated the mannerisms and general behavior of the wereowl, from his insults and rage, all the way to his occasional drinking problems, he still couldn't say that he was a horrible person at his core...The other man was more enigmatic in that regard. “-and Snatcher is...well, he can be rather rude and snarky, but he cares deep down, he's not heartless.” He tried his best to give her a reassuring smile and sighed in relief internally when the young girl nodded.

“Can I...sleep in Hattie's room?” She felt alone and scared. The lady with the red hair and the man currently talking to her appeared nice, but being in unfamiliar surroundings all by herself was still a bit scary and she felt safer with Hattie around. The DJ nodded with a smile, understanding the issue after looking at Bow's expression of discomfort. She had calmed down significantly, but he could understand that she was still on guard and worried for her safety. He could only blindly guess what happened to the young girls that were now in their home, but considering that almost everyone in this house lost someone to the hunters, it easy to assume that they encountered the monster hunters or even the researchers.

The DJ snapped out of his thoughts when the young girl looked at him expectantly, awaiting an answer to her inquiry. “O-Of course, darling. We can just move your mattress over to Hattie's room.” He was pleasantly surprised when the curly-haired girl smiled again and picked up her pillow and blanket.

“Thanks, I'm sorry if Hattie and I are inconveniencing you.” Bow Kid muttered and still kept her distance a bit as she walked out of the room. For a moment, she hesitated and looked left and right to check that the angry man and the mean man were nowhere to be seen, she carefully stepped into the hallway when she was sure that the coast was clear.

DJ Grooves followed behind her after pulling the mattress out of the bed and dragging it behind him, he could already hear the Conductor laugh at him for not carrying it over his shoulder or something while calling him weak. He quickly got rid of the thought and joined the girl outside. “You're not a bother, we couldn't just leave to young children out in the storm, that would have been a travesty.” They got into Hattie's room after the DJ showed Bow the way, and he placed the mattress next to Hat Kid's bed. Bow Kid placed her pillow and blanket down before taking a look at the sleeping Hattie, who looked a lot healthier and not nearly as pale now. After sighing in relief at the fact that her sister was feeling better, Bow looked back at the black-haired man.

“Thank you for your kindness.” She looked up at him and bowed. The polite and humble gesture almost caused the DJ to tear up himself after he noticed that she had a few wounds on the area right under her neck on her back. It only confirmed his and Cookie's earlier assumptions.

“Get some sleep, okay. Everything will be better form now on.” He smiled and started to turn around before he stopped at the door. “Oh, and don't worry, I'll make sure to keep the two tactless jerks out of your room.” he gave a wink before he closed the door. Bow Kid fell asleep almost immediately after, the stressful day and her exhaustion finally catching up to her.

-

The appetizing smell of tomato- and béchamel sauce, cooked meat and cheese, wafted throughout the whole of the ground floor of the house. The skilled chef didn't even have to call the other two people that ate real food over to the now finished dinner, as the scent had already attracted them to the kitchen. It had turned dark outside already, their normal schedule for dinner canceled by Bow- and Hat Kid's rescue. The delay caused the wereowl to look a bit starved when Cookie turned her head slightly after hearing him approach the kitchen. He tried to hide it, but she was well aware that the man was quite hungry. Werebeasts, like werewolfs and wereowls, needed around one and a half times as much food as a normal human. It was something that many freshly.turned werebeast mostly didn't know about and it often caused great discomfort for those afflicted.

“I'm sorry that dinner is so late today, Conductor, but-” She was interrupted by him raising a hand to signal for her to stop. He gave her a small smile, even if he found being friendly hard at the moment, due to his severe hunger pangs.

“Donnae worry about that, savin' them lassies had priority.” He sat down at his usual place, close to the kitchen window on the small part of the corner seat. Cookie gave him a small appreciative smile which was returned...until the DJ entered the kitchen and it reverted back into a scowl.

“That smells delicious! Lasagna, I gather?” The DJ asked and Cookie nodded and just about finished preparing the plates and setting them down on the table. To no surprise, the hungry wearbeast started to eat the food at a fast pace, hardly even chewing which garnered a disgusted looking expression from the afro-sporting man, as he sat down at the other end of the corner seat.

“Did you manage to calm Bow?” Cookie joined the table as well.

“Yes, the young darling asked if she could join her sister, and I couldn't really say 'no' to that so I brought the mattress over to the other darling's room.” Cookie sighed in relief, She was worried that Bow Kid would not be able to sleep, considering how tense and alert she had been.

The Conductor stopped eating for a moment, and asked a question that had been burning on his mind ever since they brought the two girls over to their home. “So...What are we gonna do 'bout the wee lassies? We cannae send 'em back out inta the cold again.”

DJ Grooves rolled his eyes behind his shades, “Of course not, Conductor! We have to protect the little darlings!” The two glared at each other...despite the fact that, for once, they were on the same page.

“I'm with you both on that decision, I have no doubt that it will be a huge change, and we all need to support them, but we can do it!” Cookie gave a determined smile which faltered after she realized something. “...I'm just not sure...if...if Snatcher will be-” She was got startled as the familiar voice appeared behind her.

“On board with it? Hey, I may be a bit cold and shifty-”

“Don't forget, cruel 'n' a pain in the neck!” the rude comment was met by a glare before the vampire continued to present his case.

“-but I'm not heartless. I may not be the best role model, but hey...neither is that cranky old fossil over there.” Snatcher's smile widened when he watched the smirk of the blonde man turned into him nearly gritting his teeth in anger.

“Now now, you two stop fighting.” Cookie scolded, and both men relented reluctantly. The DJ looked just as happy that the he didn't have to listen to yet another pointless fight between the wereowl and vampire.

The small 'meeting' ended when the Conductor grabbed another plate of food and started to head out of the kitchen and back to his room. “I ain't got time ta argue with ye anyway, blood sucker, I have to get up early tomorrow and go ta work, unlike yer wee office job, me work his hard 'n' demandin'.”

Snatcher only rolled his eyes, “On day, I'm gonna 'accidentally' use my magic on that annoying old fool.” He turned into a bat and flew out the window in search for prey, leaving only Cookie and the DJ.

“I hope this will all work out...” Cookie seemed a bit worried as she started to clean the dishes. The DJ got up and brought his empty plate over to the sink.

“We've been through worse, we can make it work somehow. You said it yourself, we can do it!”

#ahit bond of the beasts #ahit fanfic #ahit monster au #ahit hat kid #ahit bow kid #ahit conductor #ahit snatcher #ahit dj grooves #ahit cooking cat

[bugsims]

#tw blood #shaken soda legacy #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #ssl g2 #surge tonic #dew tonic