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sebastianswallows · 28 days

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The English Client — One

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none for this chapter, just Tom being grumpy and hating the world

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— A/N: This is a fic that was commissioned by @localravenclaw as a gift for @esolean 💕 It's going to be a bit of a rollercoaster, with angst and fluff and smut galore. I plan to post twice a week, Mondays and Fridays. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you will have fun reading it, my dears! 💚

Tom was twenty-five. It had been seven years since he graduated from Hogwarts, and just as many since he started working at Borgin and Burkes. Now, he found himself in a sweltering place with the world passing him by. Trapped, for his sins, in a moving metal coffin. If this was hell, it looked like rolling hills, houses nestled in the fog, narrow rows of poplars and puffs of grazing sheep, all set to the tune of clinking chains and carriage shuffles. He hated this assignment.

After taking the train from London to Dover, he caught the ferry that sailed to Calais, and from there took a series of coaches and trains meant to take him on to Italy. To Rome. They had just stopped in Lyon to pick up more passengers, and now they were on their way again.

He had fought with Burke regarding the logistics of the whole thing. Why couldn’t he just use Floo like a normal wizard? But the miserable old stoat said he’d sooner trust muggle transportation than Tom’s pronunciation of Italian or French — and besides, was Floo even networked all the way down there? It didn’t matter anymore.

Tom was convinced it was all done to save costs, and perhaps for Burke to not have to call in any favours. So off he went with one measly suitcase and two billfolds of franks and lira — all of which were merely enchanted oak leaves. They would inevitably transfigure back to their original form in a couple of weeks or so, but by then Tom should be long gone. Who said money didn’t grow on trees?

He tried to distract himself from all this misery by checking his notes again. His little book cracked open, snapping at the spine, and its insides were revealed to him like a cadaver cut through with a black spidery scrawl. It was a list of books and authors, with observations added vertically on the side to save space.

“The Secrets of Wisdom, N. Tamisso 1650 — high priority, any edition. The Lost Word, B. Trevisan 1661 — low priority, optional. Delomelanicon (or The Invocation of Darkness), A. Torchia 1666 — first edition, mandatory.” The latter word was underlined three times. His notes continued with the instructions Burke had given. “Check the rare book dealers, antiquaries, private collectors if necessary. If you can not find it, find out who can. If they will not sell it, take it anyway.”

Tom’s lip curled. Whatever joy there was in being away from the squalor of Knockturn Alley was soiled by what he had to do in Rome. It wasn’t the books he minded, and in fact, he quite admired Burke’s taste in this matter. But to be flung so far away from home on such short notice, and for such a length of time, was pitiful to him. The heir of Slytherin turned errand boy…

“Excuse-moi, est-ce que — Oh, bonjour.”

Tom turned his frown toward the sliding doors of the compartment, between which stood a young man in his twenties. Lanky brown locks fell into his eyes veiling the crinkles of a smile.

“Yes?” sighed Tom.

“I was wondering if this was free,” said the boy. And without waiting for an answer, he dragged his luggage inside — three suitcases, all leather with copper fittings looking ready to burst — and closed the doors behind him.

“I suppose it is,” mumbled Tom. He subtly closed his notebook and tucked it back into the messenger bag at his feet while he kept track of the stranger from the corner of his eyes.

The fine quality of the newcomer’s clothes was somewhat disguised by how carelessly they hung around him. His white and starched shirt was loosened at the top, revealing a hint of tanned skin sprinkled with sparse curls. A golden pin kept a red and blue striped tie affixed to it, and around his pinky finger was a silver ring thickly laid with marcasites and crowned with a malachite stone. His lips were full and purple-stained from wine. His eyes were a bright blue. Judging by his pressed trousers and clean leather shoes, he was a gentleman who had arrived at the station by car — or, at least, he was the spoilt brat of one.

“Clement,” the boy grinned, extending his hand.

“Tom,” he replied, giving him a firm, brief shake.

“I’m on my way to Rome!” Clement sighed, plopping down onto the seat opposite him. Almost immediately, he cracked open a cigarette case and started fishing for a lighter in his trouser pocket. His luggage lay strewn all around the floor, suitcases filled with junk, no doubt. “You?”

“The same,” Tom said and instantly regretted sharing anything at all. With people like these — the overly friendly types — it was best to not encourage conversation.

“Oh, magnificent. Vacation?”

“Work.”

“How sad,” tutted Clement as he popped a cigarette between his lips. He offered one to Tom as well.

“Don’t smoke.”

“Ah.”

He closed the case with a loud click and set it on the table between them. With a smooth, almost theatrical motion, he lit up his pocket lighter — silver, older than him, probably an heirloom, engraved with an elaborate floral motif featuring a fleur-de-lis — and let the flame dance on the tip of his cigarette until he was satisfied.

“Don’t talk much, either,” the boy chuckled. He kept his eyes on Tom as he took a drag, then started puffing away without a care. He attempted to blow rings of smoke but failed. “What do you use your mouth for, then?”

“Cursing, mostly.”

Clement laughed. “The same!”

Tom doubted it.

The compartment soon filled with smoke, and the narrow window open at the top only made it dance around inside. The muggy summer fumes were driving Tom to madness already, and he could only hope the train moved fast enough to clear the air. But as they went further into the rural parts of France, the scent of sheep took over. Maybe it’s not too late to try to Apparate directly at the station, he thought.

“So, what do you do?” asked the French boy, vowels gliding altogether in one breath between his lips. His arm extended elegantly to tap the ash into a cheap tray by the window.

It took Tom a moment to look at him and answer. “I’m in, er, publishing.”

“Truly?” he said, excited enough to lean over the table. “That’s magnificent. I intend to be published too.”

“Oh? What do you write?”

“Poesies.”

“Poetry? Ah, not my area, I’m afraid.”

“But you must know some people…”

Tom wanted to tell him that if he were any good he’d have found a publisher already, but intuition told him to temper himself.

“I might,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’m full up at the moment.”

The boy puffed away nervously as he tapped the round gemstone of his ring against the window, and kept his eyes on him. Tom turned to watch the view rolling past them, seeing without seeing. The sensation of being watched was as familiar as it was discomforting. It crawled down his thin cheeks, his narrow neck, and from there sank into his clothes like sweat. He gazed briefly at the tapping ring from the corner of his eyes in irritation, before focusing away again. For a few moments, he thought he’d successfully ended their conversation.

“Well, I’m in show business,” Clement said instead, grinning brilliantly. There was a gap between his first incisors that made him look boyish and pure. “Theatre.”

“Your parents must be very happy.”

“No,” he laughed. “Miserable. But,” he shrugged, “it is not their decision.”

Tom hummed and said nothing else.

“Your parents are happy with your job, no? You go on important business trips to France, to Rome, and… erm. Well, it is a good job, for sure. Makes them proud, yes?”

Whatever sunshine beamed through the window was chilled and clouded by the glare in Tom’s dark eyes. Why did this bothersome Frenchman have to talk to him? He wasn’t going to keep doing it the whole way to Rome, surely…

“I wouldn’t know,�� he finally said. “They’re dead.”

“Oh… Oh, I am so sorry...”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. He didn’t think Clement had heard him, but he wouldn’t care even if he did.

The boy pulled the ashtray closer and put out his cigarette, then leaned his head against the glass. Fidgeting, he held the silver case in his hands and clicked it open and closed, open and closed… He did that for quite a while.

Tom could feel him staring. Could even sense to some extent the messy thoughts inside that head: curiosity, intrigue, and joy.

What could be joyful about that moment?

Well, if Tom was being honest, this wasn’t the first time he’d had such an effect on people. Memories of Burke’s clients came back to him accompanied by the customary shiver down his spine. Clement had the same flippant merriment about him that all the others did, those careless old witches and wizards. That unguarded look of innocence surrounded by the fog of greed. An airy absence of thought and feeling. Must’ve been the side effect of all that money.

Tom had once envied such people. Had even flattered himself with the knowledge that he, however distantly, was one of them. What greater destiny than to be born to glorious old blood? What greater tragedy than to be fallen from it…? He could even remember, with much clarity and shame, how he’d spent several months during his third year obsessing over the Gaunts and Riddles, chasing up on genealogies, and smattering the back pages of his diary with heraldic designs.

But the more he understood the upper classes — their uselessness, their inborn idiocy, their paradoxical sense of superiority which stood impervious to anything reality threw at them — the more he grew to hate them.

“I am sorry if I offended…” said Clement rather softly. “Sometimes, I talk too much.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice.”

“No, but I do, I do…”

Tom had overshot his subtleties, apparently.

“So you are not happy with your job? Forgive me for asking…”

“No, it’s quite alright.”

“A pity, you know…”

“Why?”

“To not like it.”

“Oh, it’s not too much trouble most of the time. Why? Do you like your job?”

“But of course!” he said, blue eyes twinkling.

Tom cast a scathing look his way. How strange… He couldn’t imagine enjoying any form of employment — other than the coveted post of DADA professor at Hogwarts.

“Why are you in Rome, then?” Tom asked.

“On vacation. I am, erm, meeting a friend,” he whispered with a grin.

“A girlfriend?” asked Tom with a smirk.

Clement shook his head and giggled. “A boy friend.”

Tom’s brows nearly reached his hairline. He’d never heard of such things being bandied about quite that openly before, at least not in England. Clement seemed not to care. Must’ve been a habit of his, as he seemed to not care about much at all other than enjoying life.

“You have a fun vacation ahead of you, then.”

“More than you know,” he winked.

Tom curled his nose at that and sat back, away from the whole conversation. But Clement leaned closer, arms braced over the table lazily, eyes flashing excitedly.

“We will rob this old fool, and run with his money.”

That captured Tom’s attention again. The boy was waiting eagerly for his reaction, and not a thought ran through his head that Tom might’ve been untrustworthy. Of course, far be it from him to ruin someone else’s fun, but the scenario Clement proposed was too absurd to be believed.

So what else could Tom do but laugh? The sound of it filled the cabin, and so out of use were those muscles that his cheeks began to ache. The sight of it seemed to delight young Clement. He leaned back and gave another one of his brilliant smiles.

“You can join us, if you like,” he offered smoothly.

“Sorry,” said Tom, his cheeks still flushed. “My schedule is full.”

“Oh, pity, pity… You would like my friend, I think. His name is Donatien. He is more serious, like you.”

“Is that so,” said Tom distractedly.

“By the way, what is your hotel?”

They entered Rome on a train that ran six hours late, and wobbled on its tracks, and stank of mouldy cheese and wine rust.

Clement talked most of the way there, and seemed to be satisfied with Tom mostly reacting with brief hums and tilted smiles. They even exchanged gifts. The French boy was enchanted by what was, in Tom’s estimation, a fairly average switchblade. He’d only taken it out to peel an orange. It was something he’d bought in London right before his seventh year, and although it was quite plain, it did have some delicate embellishments on its ivory handle of two writhing snakes. That seemed to appeal to Clement, who offered his own blade in exchange — a Swiss army knife that also had a screwdriver and bottle opener tucked in its red body. Considering it a more efficient deal, Tom shrugged and accepted the trade.

Faint details came up now and then about his plans with this Donatien, but most of it was lost in smoke and loud metallic rattles. As much as Tom hated flying on brooms, even he could agree it would’ve been preferable to this…

But at least he didn’t have to fear any Ministry or Aurors in these parts. Not any that were familiar with him, anyway. The Italians had their own Ministry of Magic, of course, but it was all the way down in Mirto, Sicily, and foreigners were a low priority for them. There were so many people from all over the world in Italy those days that it wasn’t worth keeping track of them all, or at least so Burke had told him.

The train slowed and pulled into the station, and pulled, and pulled… It groaned as if in pain. Clement took the jolt of inertia as it all came to a stop with cheerful clapping, and promptly got up to collect his bags.

“So, we are agreed?”

“Absolutely not agreed. Besides, I doubt my lodgings would be to your taste.”

“Ah Tom, you do not know my taste!”

“Very well, but best keep your complaints to a minimum once we get there.”

They struggled to get everything off the train with four suitcases between them. Tom was travelling light with just the one, about which Clement made some snide comment that he soon forgot, but he helped him anyway. His own belongings consisted of plain muggle clothes and some books that Burke wished him to barter with, if it came to that. Between the lines, and between Burke’s sparse and slimy brows, Tom understood he was expected to use his charms to get a bargain price — as per usual — but he did not intend to let some fat old antiquary put his grimy hands on him. Not this time. Besides, conversing with Clement had stained his dignity enough.

Being away on the continent had one advantage, at least: he was no longer under the vulturous watch of his employer.

Tom stepped out onto the platform, muscles sore from days of sitting down, and looked ahead as if he knew where he was going. People were chatting all around him, filling the cool hall with murmurs all the way up to its dome — some in German, some in French, others in variously accented English. Tom wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and picked up his suitcase to follow Clement, who was hunting for a trolley to load his luggage onto.

As soon as they stepped out onto the street, the heat of Rome in August hit Tom in the face like an oven door and he, frail and pallid thing, was not prepared for it. He squinted in displeasure, to Clement’s great amusement.

“This way, Tom!” he said as he popped on a pair of sunglasses. “I see a taxi!”

Tom had spent most of the journey brushing up on his Italian with the help of a conversation guide he picked up at the Gare du Nord. His extensive knowledge of Latin came in pretty handy. But now that he saw Clement handle things, perhaps he needn’t have bothered. His companion could easily direct the driver to the dingy old hotel Tom was staying at, the Gallienus on Via Domenichino, and chatted a bit more besides.

“Vacation in Rome often, then?” he asked.

“I just know some phrases,” Clement smiled. “You don’t need much with these people.”

The driver pretended not to understand the slight.

“Where do you want to have lunch, then?” Clement asked.

“Lunch? I’m certainly not in the mood, not now.”

“Oh come ooon…”

“You can eat on your own.”

“We can leave our stuff and take the taxi to this place I know on Via della Mercede. They make the best seafood, the best!”

It had not been until now, with this journey to somewhere far away, that Tom realised how limited his world had been at Hogwarts. He’d once felt equal parts ashamed and at a strange advantage next to the other Slytherins, his peers, all purebloods, for knowing both the magical and muggle worlds. Now, exiled for this assignment among strangers, it seemed to Tom as if he were starting life all over again. He looked out the window and everything was new, everything was strange. The buildings, the street, the people, even the clothes were different. The city, like London, was massive, but the streets were broader, blazing white. Some disappeared into little alleyways that slithered like dark serpents. Tom could easily see himself getting lost in such a place.

It was… humbling. He didn’t like it.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient #whew here we go 😭#I dread to think of adapting the masterlist for this lol #I might make a separate post just for all of its chapters #there will be 40 in total

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officialaemondtargaryen · 2 months

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A Fine Line [part 4]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: ~7k (holy shit)

Author’s Note: I am so sorry that this took so long! I wanted to give a special thanks to @queen-helaena & @persephonerinyes for their feedback and direction on this chapter! Also, my personal Baela, @felteppsters for her daily duty of being my best friend. I will get the next chapter out as soon as I can, I promise it will be less than the six or so months it took me to write this bitch.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist (it's been so long you might need a refresher)

Playlist here (be sad with me)

It was light out when you heard the front door open and close. A soft groan escaped your lips as you stretched; fatigue deep in your bones from a restless night. You quirked your brow as you glanced at the window. The remnants of a pink and purple sunrise were painted in the early Saturday morning sky.

His feet shuffled against the hardwood floor. Your eyes were fixed on the bedroom wall as you heard the door open. He was fully clothed when he fell into the bed next to you; still had his shoes on, even. The faint smell of clove cigarettes still lingered on his skin. A sigh escaped his lips as he nestled himself into the mattress as if everything were perfectly fine. You shot up quickly, turning to face him; your tongue burning with all of the words that you wanted to say to him, but you just couldn't bring yourself to actually speak them.

So you don't say anything.

You don't say anything as you sit cross-legged in the living room floor; folding his laundry as he sat on the couch eating the breakfast that you cooked, drinking the coffee that you made, laughing at whatever stupid TV show was on. You don't say anything as you stood next to him at the kitchen counter, fixing yourself a plate of dinner. You don't say anything as he crawled into bed with you that night and kissed you on the cheek.

No, instead you put it away. Just like everything else. And for the next three days you hardly say anything to each other, and if you did speak, it was 'dinner is ready' or the occasional 'have a good day'. You ate in separate rooms and he had started falling asleep in his office. It was the first time since you had started dating that the silence had become this loud. Sure, you hadn't had sex in almost a year, and more often than not he just felt like a roommate to you, but the silence had becoming deafening.

It was actually Aemond who had encouraged you to bite the bullet and be the first to say something. You'd been texting back and forth since the bowling alley. It was a weird feeling, teetering between guilt and giddiness, whenever you saw his name pop up on your screen. Nevertheless, you appreciated his company, even if it was just through text. It was more communication than you were getting from your own boyfriend and best friend; you'd never known Baela to be so busy, but every time you asked if she wanted to hang out or have a glass of wine over FaceTime, she was otherwise occupied.

Wednesday night, after you had put away the leftovers and finished the dishes, you had found yourself standing in the threshold of his office. It was a room you hardly visited and the art on the walls looked foreign to your eyes; almost making you feel awkward to stand in what felt like his space. You watched as he was reading his emails; quietly speaking to himself, saying all of the things he wished he could respond back with. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even noticed you standing there.

"Aegon?" You asked and he flinched slightly.

"Hey!" His body softened and he gave you a tired smile. "What's up?"

"It's Wednesday," you shrugged. "Did you want to come down and watch our show together?"

"Oh," he sighed. His hunched shoulders fell. "I have so much work that I'm trying to catch up on, and it's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, but lingered against the doorframe. His fingers went back to typing on the keyboard, undoubtedly waiting for you to make your exit. After a few moments, he looked back up at you, obviously confused as to why you were still there.

"Is everything okay, love?" He asked.

The things that you wanted to say made your mouth taste fowl as they lingered on your tongue. How long could you keep up the charade? How long could he? You were holding on the crumbling foundations of your relationship, silently begging for him to help you save it, and he still did nothing. This was the part where you wondered if he even realized that you were one foot out the door, with your bags nearly packed, or if he'd even care.

How many times had you rehearsed what you would say to him? He was sitting right there, asking you, waiting for your answer. Yet, you still couldn't bring yourself to say it.

And the cycle continues.

"Yeah," you say with a small smile and push yourself off of the door frame. "Don't stay up too late working," you told him. "You deserve a break, you know?"

"A break," he laughed dryly. "You're funny."

You turned to head back downstairs but before you could reach the first step, Aegon's voice stopped you.

"Hey," he said softly and you turned back to him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The words left your lips with ease but their weight lingered. At this point, you couldn't tell if they were genuine or the easy, default response. The doubt was planted; sprouting like a garden sick with disease in your mind. The more it grew, the more you wondered if this was all that there was to it after four years. Was this the end of your relationship? Would you do anything at all to salvage it? Would he? It couldn't be that easy to unravel everything you had built together, and yet it was; all it would take were two words, just two. A simple acknowledgement that things weren't working out and then someone decides who stays and who goes.

It's over.

It was the smell of bacon that woke you the next morning.

Your body ached from a restless night as you sat up, stretching your arms above your head before reaching for your phone. Your brows furrowed as you read the date and time, almost having forgotten it was Thursday. It had been years since Aegon had cooked breakfast, let alone in the middle of the week. You quickly shifted out of the bed, shuffling down the hall before stopping in the threshold of the kitchen.

He was at the stove, humming softly as he turned down the heat on the bacon. For a moment, you were taken back to when he'd wake up early and cook breakfast on the weekends. You'd wrap your arms around him as he worked, swaying back and forth as music played over the little bluetooth speaker that sat on the counter. He wasn't someone who spent a lot of time in the kitchen, but he knew how to get the bacon just right and his scrambled eggs were always perfectly fluffy.

"Morning," he greeted as you stepped into the room. You slowly approached him and wrapped your arms around his middle, placing a small kiss between his shoulders. You felt him tense for a moment before he relaxed in your arms.

"What's the occasion?" You asked, reaching around him for a slice of bacon. "Figured you'd be at work by now."

"I'm taking the morning off," he shrugged as you moved to his side, leaning against the counter. He pulled the last few strips of bacon off of the pan and laid them across the cooling rack before turning the stove off completely. "I really wanted to spend some time with you, if you can spare it."

Your lips turned softly into a smile, "I think I can manage."

He stepped in front of you, his hands finding their place on your hips, gently pinning you against the counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss. He lingered there, forehead pressed to yours as he sighed against your lips. Despite everything, you craved these moments with him. Your body still reacted in such an automatic way to his touch that it was almost enough to make you forget it all.

Almost.

You didn't want to question it, but an unsettling suspicion lingered in your chest that there was more to his actions than just wanting to spend some quality time with you. After all, it had been months since he had shown any interest in you in that regard.

"I do have ulterior motives, however," he mentioned.

There it is.

"I knew there was something behind all of this," you sighed with a quick roll of your eyes.

You went to step around him but he stopped you, lifting you at the hips so that you were sitting on the counter. You brace yourself for what is about to be said. The short silence echoed throughout the room as he weighed his words. Instinctively, your negative thoughts fill in the blank as he nudges himself between your knees and looks up at you with a pout. You can almost see the infidelity in his eyes, and you know that he can see the apprehension in yours..

"Don't, it's not like that," he said quietly and you exhale a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding in. "My mother is hosting a dinner tonight, celebrating the return of her favorite son, and I'd really like you to be there."

Your eyebrows raised with surprise.

"Are you sure?" You ask tenderly as you move a strand of hair from his face, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking so poorly of him. His blue eyes were downcast, unmoving from your lap where his thumbs drew circles in the skin of your thighs.

"I don't even want to go," he muttered. "But, I'm obligated to and I want you to be with me," he took a breath before looking up to meet your gaze; you could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you were there."

"Okay," you agreed and he leaned forward with a thankful sigh, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, fingers instinctively twirling in his hair. "Why don't we go get back in bed?"

He lifts his head and places another kiss on your forehead, breathing out as he does so, "I wish I could, but I've got to go pick up the dry cleaning."

"Send someone to go get it for you," you sigh and groan, tilting your head back in annoyance allowing Aegon to place a chaste kiss to your neck.

"Mhm," he breathes with his lips still pressed to your skin. "I could."

"You should," you whisper.

Aegon hums in response as his lips trail across your clavicle. His hands gripped at your waist, squeezing as you both leaned deeper into this moment. He pulled you forward by the hips, allowing your legs to wrap around him. His hands slid slowly up your thighs, fingertips teasingly playing along the bottom hem of your shorts. You breathed out, bringing your hands to his jaw and pulling him up to meet your lips.

You couldn't remember the last time he had kissed you like this- the last time he touched you like this. Three words clung to your lips as they parted to say, "I miss you", but before they could take form, the abrupt sound of Aegon's cell vibrating on the countertop pulled you back down to a harsh reality. He pulls away reluctantly, a mixture of frustration and obligation on his face as he sighs.

"No," you whine. "You took the morning off."

He steps back away from you, and your hands instinctively reach out for him, hoping to provide an anchor. You can't help but feel disappointed as he answers the phone; Otto's disgruntled voice faint on the other end, screaming. Aegon, deeply apologetic towards his grandfather, hurries out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his office, leaving you sitting on the counter with two plates of untouched breakfast and a sickening feeling of disappointment.

One step forward, two steps back; like playing the fucking Hokey Pokey with your relationship. You sat there for a moment, allowing the feeling of his now absent touch to linger on your skin, wondering if you'd ever become numb to it. You gently slide from the counter, your feet resting flat on the cool tile, and let out a small sigh as you begin disassociating and staring out the kitchen window.

The rest of the day seemed just as monotonous.

Your mind was in a fog as you thought ahead to dinner with the Targaryen-Hightower household. Your expectations of the evening were uncertain, given the limited information you possessed about Aegon's family. You knew Aemond, and you knew enough about Otto Hightower to form an opinion- albeit not a very positive one. He never talked about his father, and the only interactions he had with his mother were when he was ignoring her phone calls. There had been a few times Aegon had mentioned his sister, Helaena, who he described as 'creative' and 'artsy'. You also had heard him mention his youngest brother, Daeron, a few times; he would call every now and then, Aegon never ignored his calls.

There was also the half-sister, Rhaenyra, from his father's first marriage. She was typically referred to as 'dad's favorite'. You knew the most about her, only because she was quite vocal in interviews, discussing her father's health and the potential scandal surrounding the succession of his business.

"What do I wear to this sort of dinner party?" You texted Aemond. The same text that you had sent Aegon hours ago hadn't received a response, and as the hours passed you grew increasingly nervous.

"Something formal but it is just a dinner," his reply came quickly, followed by a second text. "I would stay away from the color green, however."

"Noted, thanks!"

Baela was typing away on her keyboard furiously next to you as you turned to face her in your chair. She had a red gel pen stuck behind her ear and her eyebrows were furrowed as she worked. She had been particularly quiet, which was unlike her. Typically you couldn't get her nor Jace to stop bickering over the cubicle wall long enough to think of a single sentence to write.

You chewed on your lip for a moment before you decided to swivel your chair to face her, reaching for the jar of green M&M's on the island that separated your desks. "Hey, you got a minute for me?" You ask as you pop a few of the candies into your mouth, hoping to break the ice.

"Hm?" She hums but her fingers are still typing. You toss an M&M at her and she turns completely to face you. Her expression softens when you smile at her, "I'm sorry, I've just been swamped with this new project Jason put me on this week."

"Is there anything that I can help you with?" You ask, not even knowing that Jason had her working on something new.

Baela shakes her head, "I appreciate you, always, but Jace has been doing some extra credit for me."

You laugh softly, although you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she hadn't asked you. "That's probably best, he could use something to do."

"So, what's up?" Baela asked, getting to the point.

"Aegon invited me to a dinner with his family," your friend's eyebrows immediately shot up in surprise and you nodded. "I've never met any of them and I have no clue what to wear. Aemond said it would be 'formal' but it's still 'just a dinner', and Aegon- he didn't say anything."

"D'you ever find out what happened to him Friday night?" She asked.

You shook your head and frowned, "I could really use some girl time, if you could spare it."

At precisely 4:59 PM you and Baela both rolled yourselves out from underneath your desks and grabbed your coats. The snow was barely sticking to the pavement, and a thick, dense fog hung over the city as you stepped out of the office; the two of you arm-in-arm, laughing about something that had happened earlier at work. You were thankful for her company, as the last few days had felt particularly lonely. Plus, you were hoping to get a chance to talk to her about her new work assignment and how her week had been.

Aegon wasn't home when you got there. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if he'd come through the door just to tell you that the dinner had been cancelled last minute; and you, standing in the middle of the living room, all dressed up for nothing. He wouldn't even acknowledge the effort you had put in to looking good for him. You allowed that scenario to play out in your mind as Baela poured you a glass of wine. She was talking about Jace, but your attention was elsewhere; unable to decide if you would be relieved if the dinner was cancelled or disappointed. You did want to see Aemond, and you did want to be there to support Aegon, but the potential drama that the evening held had you on edge.

"I can always tell when you're not listening to me," she laughed as she took a sip of her wine. She had a lock of your hair wrapped around the curling iron as you sat on the toilet in your bathroom.

"I'm sorry," you frowned, knowing that you hadn't heard a single word she had said about her new work project.

"You've got a lot going on," she said softly. "Talk to me."

"It's just Aegon," you sighed. "It feels like our relationship has been dead in the water for almost two years and we're both just holding on to nothing."

"Have you talked to him?" Baela asked, moving on to another section of hair. You tossed a hand up, trying to keep your head as straight as still as possible. "You need to talk to him, Y/N."

"What is there to talk about?" You asked with a defeated sigh.

"There is everything to talk about," and she was right. Baela was always right when it came to relationship advice. "You can't just decide to throw away four years because he's not being a good boyfriend right now. Aegon loves you, it's so obvious, he just seems stressed. Maybe he's going through something, maybe it's his family, have you even asked?"

You shook your head, not wanting to continue this conversation any longer. Just because Baela was always right, didn't mean that it was what you wanted to hear. Sometimes you just wanted someone to confirm your suspicions, or tell you that he was being a dumbass for pushing you away, or that you should break up with him and free yourself from the emotional torment that you were experiencing daily just from staying in this relationship.

You were his girlfriend, not his therapist. It wasn't your responsibility to sit him down and figure out why he was no longer putting forth any effort into making this work. All that should have mattered was the fact that he wasn't, because to you, that was a direct reflection of how much he cared. The bar was on the floor, it wouldn't take much at all for him to give you something. Yet, he couldn't even do that. He did just enough to make you feel like the fact that you were still hanging on was worth it, but you knew that it wasn't.

It was only a matter of time.

"All done," Baela said shortly after. You took a look at yourself in the mirror and smiled at her through the reflection; she had such impeccable skills with a curling iron and your hair looked perfect.

"Now we just have to figure out an outfit," you smiled.

"What about that one green dress you wore to the office Christmas party?" She asked as she followed you to the bedroom. "I love that dress, I have been meaning to ask if I could borrow it."

"You absolutely can," you replied and threw open your closet door, pulling that specific dress out on the hanger and laying it on the bed for Baela. "Aemond said that I should stay away from the color green, though, I have no idea why."

"How oddly specific," she chuckled as she smoothed her hands over the fabric of the dress. "I have a date next week, and this is perfect."

"A date?" You asked, eyebrows raining in suspicion.

"Yeah," she smiled. "It's kind of new but he's really sweet, he makes me all giddy. Like kicking my feet while we talk on the phone kind of giddy."

"So that's why you haven't been answering my FaceTime calls," your tone was light, but with your back to her, you couldn't help but frown. You remembered how giddy Aegon used to make you feel. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make you smile. "I'm happy for you, B."

You were being sincere and she knew that.

"Alright," you took a breath, shoving those memories back down where they belonged and turned towards the bed. "I think I have it narrowed down to the red or the blue."

"The red says 'look at me'," she says and joins you at your side. "You don't want that kind of attention right now, go with the blue."

"You're right."

The dress was boring, but it still accentuated your curves, and was the perfect choice for a semi-formal family dinner. As you stood in front of your mirror, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you could heard the front door open and close. Baela's eyes connected with you through the mirror and you gave her a soft smile.

"Babe," you heard Aegon say from the threshold of your bedroom. You turned to see him standing in the doorway. "Baela," he smiled and nodded his head at her. "The car is waiting."

"Doesn't your girlfriend look absolutely incredible?" Baela asked, obviously proud of the work she had done.

"Sure," his face was flat. "You look great."

Your smile fell- along with every bit of your confidence- as he turned back down the hallway without so much as another word. You turned back to Baela; giving her a look as if to say, 'this is exactly what I mean', but she only returned it by squeezing your shoulders and giving you a reassuring smile.

"Maybe he's just nervous?" She's trying to play devil's advocate.

You knew it wasn't true, you knew that he just didn't care, and trying to convince yourself otherwise was exhausting at this point.

"Yeah," you agree with a frown and grab your clutch from the bed.

The Targaryen-Hightower residence was a sprawling, water-front mansion about 45 minutes north of Manhattan in Greenwich, Connecticut; what Business Insider claims is the richest neighborhood in the United States. The car ride there was silent, save for the soft sounds of talk radio coming through the speakers. You kept your gaze trained out the window, avoiding making any type of small-talk with Aegon as he drove. He kept his focus on the road, his face becoming more pained with anxiety with each mile you drew closer.

He sighed as he turned the car into the driveway, and you reached across the center console to place your hand on his thigh to show your support. Even though you felt indifferent towards him at the moment, you knew that tonight would be difficult for everyone involved. You may not have ever witnessed the dynamic of this family first-hand, but if Aegon was right about any of it, the mood would be dysfunctional.

The valet opened the door and Aegon held his hand out to you, no doubt putting on a display for anyone who may have been watching. There was a figure waiting at the door; her wavy, red hair glowing like a halo- or Devil's horns- from the overhead lights in the foyer where she stood. Immediately you noticed the emerald green dress that she was wearing, now knowing exactly why Aemond had steered you away from that option.

"I didn't think you'd come," Mrs. Hightower said softly to her son as you stepped through the door. She reached out to hug Aegon, who only stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I didn't want to," Aegon replied curtly.

"Aegon," his mother spoke sternly, as her gaze fell upon you. "This was meant to be an intimate family gathering."

"Please tell me we can't stay, I'd love nothing more than to go home," he spoke in a low tone, a touch of annoyance evident in his words. You pretended to be interested in a painting adorning the foyer wall where you lingered, still waiting to be formally invited in. "Y/N is my family, mother, more so than anyone in this house."

"Aegon," she warned with a sigh.

He moved to step around her and called back to you, "shall we?"

"Just a moment," Alicent continued, holding her index finger up to her son. Aegon sighed, his jaw was clenched. "I'd like to speak with Ms. Y/L/N alone for a moment."

Aegon swallowed and glanced down at you. His lips pursed as he nodded slowly, realizing he couldn't spare you from what was likely to be an uncomfortable encounter. "I'll be in the dining room, okay? It's just through those doors, there."

You nodded and he planted a short kiss on your cheek. Turning, you noticed Alicent standing at the base of the painting you had been admiring just moments ago. She didn't seem old enough to have four grown children, and for some reason, that unsettled you. Her red hair cascaded down her back as she gazed up at the painting, a tight but sad smile playing on her lips as you watched her.

"This painting is worth more than you'll make in a lifetime, you know," she stated coldly. "You should feel privileged to even look upon it." Your brows furrowed at her words. Before you could respond, she continued, "I understand that by you being here our family affairs are at risk of being publicized. Consider it a warning when I say that your career would also be at risk if you chose to do so."

You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, steadying yourself before responding, "Your concerns are valid, Mrs. Hightower, but I'm here for Aegon not a story," her expression tightened as you held her gaze. The tension in the air lingered, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

You didn't breathe until you stepped through the dining room doors. Your eyes immediately found Aemond as you stepped into the room. His concentrated gaze shifted down your body slowly, taking in your appearance, and you could only hope that this navy blue dress was working for you in the way that you wanted; though, the approval was evident in his stare and in the faintest smirk on his lips.

When you finally looked at Aegon, his face was undoubtedly apologetic. He offered a small smile as he poured you a glass of wine and gestured it towards you. "She didn't say anything particularly cruel, did she?"

"Nah," you replied with sarcasm and sipped from the wine glass he handed you. "She only threatened my career."

"She's harmless," Aemond interjected.

"Harmless isn't a word I would use to describe our mother," a girl you could only presume was their sister, Helaena, added as she reached her hand out to you. "I'm Helaena, by the way, it's nice to meet you."

"Shit, sorry," Aegon cleared his throat. "Y/N, this is Helaena."

You chuckled at his late attempt to introduce you to his sister and shook her hand, "it's nice to meet you, too! I've heard a lot about you."

"And I've heard absolutely nothing about you," she gave Aegon a look before glancing back at you. "No offense."

"None taken," you smiled, brushing her comment off.

"Forgive me for wanting to keep my relationship away from this poisonous family," Aegon argued as he slumped down in his chair.

The door to the dining room opened and Otto Hightower stepped over the threshold. Aegon sighed loudly, slumping even further in his chair upon seeing his grandfather. You had never met him, but you had watched him in countless interviews. He took his role as Chief Operating Officer very seriously and you respected him as a businessman. However, you despised him for the chokehold that he had on your boyfriend; for the fact that he was singlehandedly responsible for ruining so many moments over the last two or so years, including one this morning.

It was strange to watch the way this family interacted as an outsider.

Aegon was visibly displeased to see his grandfather, and yet Helaena jumped out of her seat to give the old man a tight hug before showing him a video on her phone; her smile was bright as the two of them laughed together. Then, your eyes flitted over to Aemond whom was seemingly unfazed by his grandfather's presence; sitting calm and collected at the head of the table, his blue gaze caught your stare and his lips turned up slightly before you averted your eyes back to Aegon who was actively trying to drown himself in wine.

When Alicent entered the room, the mood shifted once again. She silently took her seat next to her father and signaled for the waitstaff to begin bringing in the food before she unfolded a napkin across her lap. Otto leaned to whisper something in her ear, to which she shook her head in response.

"Are we not waiting for father?" Aegon asked, his eyes slightly narrowed at his mother.

"Your father is in no condition to join us," Alicent's tone was sharp as she looked directly at you.

It was then that you realized Viserys Targaryen wouldn't be joining his family simply because you were there. They had done an excellent job at keeping the specifics of his health condition private and it was clear that they wouldn't be taking any chances. The look Alicent gave you from across the table was enough to make you feel small; you could see in her eyes the blame she placed upon you, as if it was your fault why her husband wouldn't be joining the rest of the family. Aegon reached his hand under the table and squeezed your thigh gently and you looked up at him.

You could tell that he now regretted his decision to invite you.

The first course had been served; the sound of forks and knives scraping porcelain plates echoed through the otherwise silent dining room. At one point you had mentioned that the food was delicious, but your comment seemed to fall upon deaf ears. When the waitstaff arrived to collect the plates and bring out the second course, you thanked them, but were only met with tight-lipped smiles.

You hated every moment you spent sitting at this table. You hated the antique furnishings, the polished candelabras, the wallpaper, the fact that the china you were eating off of probably cost more than a year's salary. You wondered if it had been like this for all of Aegon's life or if there was ever a flicker of normalcy. Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to call your parents and thank them for the childhood you had so obviously taken for granted.

Aegon finished what was his third glass of wine, and before he could even set the glass down, a butler was on the way with the rest of the bottle for a refill. You wanted to say something, but were terrified of drawing attention to yourself, so you settle for looking at him; hoping to convey your concerns silently.

It was Helaena who broke the silence as the second course was served. Her voice was soft and hesitant, but at least she was trying.

"So, Y/N, how long have you and Aegon been together?" She asked you with small smile. Unlike her mother, Helaena exuded sincerity; she seemed to actually care to get to know you.

"We'll be celebrating our four year anniversary next week," you smiled, but it immediately disappeared when you looked at Aegon; his boozy gaze remaining downcast on the table in front of him.

When the words left your lips, you heard Alicent chuckle. Both you and Aegon, and everyone else at the table looked over to her. She laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand this time, "I'm sorry, four years?"

"Why is that funny?" Aegon asked, his jaw clenched.

"It's just that- before tonight- I don't think anyone here knew you even existed," she laughed again, digging her metaphorical knife into your side just that much more.

"We shouldn't have come," Aegon said as he pushed his untouched dinner away from him. He stood up and grabbed your hand, "we're leaving."

Before you could respond, the dining room door opened and your eyes widened as Viserys Targaryen struggled into the room with a walking cane. Behind him, a nurse followed closely with a wheelchair. Alicent immediately rushed to his side, allowing him to hold onto her for support.

"Aemma, where is Rhaenyra?" He looked around the room, almost panicked, before his eyes fell upon his daughter, "Rhaenyra?"

"It's Helaena, Dad," she frowned, unable to meet her father's gaze.

"This is supposed to be a family dinner, was it not?" He asked, his strained voice becoming louder with each word. "Where is my daughter? Where is Rhaenyra? I- I need Rhaen- I need to tell her-"

"My dear," Alicent spoke softly as she tried to reassure her husband, motioning for the nurse to pull the wheelchair up behind him so that he could sit and rest. "Rhaenyra couldn't make it, she apologizes, she and Daemon will come to visit soon."

She turned towards the table and excused herself before she helped a tired Viserys back out of the dining room and down the hall.

"Let's get out of here," Aegon muttered to you.

"No," Otto interjected as he continued to eat; completely unfazed by anything that had just happened. Aegon groaned, knowing what was coming. "We need to discuss the Stark account, the board meets tomorrow and there are still details we must go over."

"We can discuss this in the morning," Aegon answered pointedly.

"The board meets in the morning," Otto argued. "There's no time. I advised you of this earlier that we would need to finalize it tonight. I am sure your guest won't mind waiting."

Otto looked at you and smiled curtly. You glanced up at Aegon, his expression regretful, and nodded at him to let him know you'd be okay. He promised he wouldn't be long, but you knew better. It didn't take but a few moments after they had left before Helaena also excused herself, leaving you and Aemond alone at the table, as the kitchen staff began cleaning around the two of you.

A breath that you weren't even aware that you had been holding blew through your lips and you could hear Aemond chuckle softly.

"First time?" He asked and you almost laughed out loud.

"What gave me away?" You asked with a smirk as you took a sip of your wine. "Is it always like this?"

He tilted his head to the side, back and forth, a few times before he answered, "We have a tendency to be a bit intense."

"A bit," you snickered as you placed your wine glass back on the table.

"Would you like to take a walk?" He asked. You looked at him for a moment before checking over your shoulder for any sign of Aegon returning. "They'll most likely be a while."

"You're probably right," you answered. "Some fresh air does sound good."

Aemond helped you into your coat and scarf and guided you out to the back terrace. The frigid, early February air bit mercilessly at your cheeks, but the sight of the full moon reflecting off of the water was worth the potential frostbite. You walked through a small garden, past empty concrete fountains, as he led you down to the water.

He held out his hand to you as he stepped out onto the floating dock; it shifted beneath the weight of him, but he stood steady, waiting for you to take a step further and join him. You took his hand and followed, trying to ignore the warmth that gathered in your chest at the feeling of his touch. He didn't let you go until you had reached the end of the dock and could hold onto the railing for support; leaning against it, you cross your arms over your chest and look out across the Sound. It was quiet, save for the lapping of the water against the rocks and the faint rhythm of Aemond's breathing.

"Thank you," you say softly, the warmth of your words swirling around you in the cold air.

Aemond turns his back to the water and leans against the railing. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, silver flask, taking a sip and making a face before holding it out to you, "what for?"

"For the distraction," you take the flask, fingertips brushing against his as you did so. It's whiskey, and you cough at the taste, but it warms your cheeks.

"What are friends for?" He asks with a soft smile. "I've been meaning to ask, did he ever say where he was Friday night?"

"I didn't ask," you admit. "He never brought it up."

"Hm," he hummed. "My brother is an idiot, but I would hope he wouldn't be foolish enough to-" He trails off, catching your eyes from the side before averting his gaze back out at the water. "Nevermind."

"Foolish enough to what?" You ask, already knowing the answer, to which Aemond only sighs in response. "You think he could be cheating on me."

"I'm only saying that he doesn't have a great track record," he turns to face you. "He's been known to be a bit thoughtless in the past."

You only nod your head as a silence falls between the two of you.

Thoughtless wasn't a word that you would have ever used to describe Aegon- not at first, not about you. People do change, and both you and Aegon had certainly changed in the last four years.

It would explain a lot and it would make things easier if he were cheating on you, however. You'd have a reason, an out, and you wouldn't have to worry about the guilt that came with breaking his heart just because you wanted more effort than what he was willing to give you. Though, it did hurt to think that he might have been putting in that effort with someone else.

In the distance you heard the faint sound of laughter and turned to see Aegon and Helaena sharing a hug and saying goodbye. You looked up at Aemond and gave him a sad smile, knowing that the evening was coming to an end. You weren't sure when you would see him again, but you already hoped that it would be sooner than later.

"In the case that no one has told you," he mentioned quietly, his elbow softly nudging you as you both walked back towards the house. "You look incredible tonight."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," you laughed.

"Maybe," he smirked. "Doesn't make it any less true."

"Don't forget about my art show," Helaena reminded Aegon one last time as you and Aemond joined them. "I know you are the worst when it comes to remembering things, but it would mean a lot to me if you were there. Y/N, I hope to see you there, as well!"

"Wouldn't miss it," you reply with a smile.

"I won't forget," Aegon groans sarcastically as he gives his sister one last hug before turning his attention to his brother.

They step off to the side and you turn back to Helaena.

"Sorry about dinner," she adds. "I promise some of us actually know how to have a good time."

"I believe it," you laugh. "I am dating your brother."

"Yeah, and he's typically the fun one," she smiled back. "You guys seem good for each other, though. I'm glad he finally found someone to be serious about."

You nod your head as you look over at Aegon; he's laughing with his brother as he takes a swig from Aemond's flask. You were happy to see that he was much more relaxed than he had been earlier, something his siblings seemed to bring out of him. He caught your stare and gave you a goofy smile before mentioning something to Aemond who then looked over at you.

The feelings you felt towards your boyfriend, and the feelings you tried your hardest not to feel for his brother were fighting a civil war inside of you. You hoped that it wasn't obvious that you were being ripped apart from the inside out, because if it was, you were in trouble.

But as you stood there, looking at the both of them, you knew you were in trouble no matter what.

Tag List:

@tssf-imagines, @gothicwidowsworld, @possiblyafangirl, @namelesslosers, @toodlesxcuddles, @hiraethrhapsody, @heavenly1927, @chainsawsangel, @ammo23, @hanula18, @5moremin @wintrr13, @witches-of-discovery-a, @arcielee, @excusemebiatch

There are a couple people on the tag list that it won't let me tag for some reason. If you are interested in being tagged, let me know, and if you no longer want to be tagged that is also cool! Just let me know!

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brazen-art · 15 days

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Gang's on the move

(a pipe burst in the hoard storage room)

#lineart my beloved #anyway here's the rest of Roscoe's bully squad #(minus one other oc)#(whom i am still developing)#but tagging the bugs here we go - Maude - Dorothy - Sybille - Ruth - Constance - Lottie - Irene and Winifred #whew #Roscoe named them #(Roscoe is. not very creative but insists on naming entities anyway. and she defaults to old lady names lol)#Roscoe's fearsome grandma gang #unfortunately the names aren't a marker for any real attachment #when one of the bugs.. disappears... the next one to show up just. inherits the unused name lmao #(did i mention that Roscoe's not that creative?)#poor bugs man #boss doesn't care about them #they should start a bug union #mind you. between all of them Roscoe is the only one with a thumb #and that's very handy (teehee) for things like surprise leaks #also shes scary.#like that's a wholeass jester whats a bug gonna do #there's at least a safety element i suppose #lethal company #lethal company oc #lethal company fanart #lethal company jester #lethal company hoarding bug #lethal company lootbug #Roscoe #oc #I'm not tagging the bugs a second time #they've had their time in the spotlight

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cloudcountry · 10 months

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thank you to the three people that tagged me in the twst author spotlight ^^ irene, siren, and sapphy, thank you. i read what you said about me and i was very touched. i didnt think i would gain so many friends in such a short period of time, and you all deserve to be recognized for your contributions to the twst community!! :D

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY FRIENDS.

@tinyletterz, who has a beautiful soul and amazing writing. i've known her since my baby days on quotev writing for a fandom which shall not be named, and it's so such a pleasure being her friend. she writes twst x reader content and has a gorgeous series about flower languages that i think about a lot. thank you remy for helping me get accustomed to tumblr, you're the og!!

@shkrmpp, who was my first mutual that i'd never met before here. thank you for asking about jellyfish and being such a bubbly presence on my dash. shrimpy writes x reader content and creates adorable art!! their hair dye series with the leech twins is super cute and i find myself thinking about teh floyd part in particular very often ^^

@fukashiin, with the prettiest themes and the gorgeous art style. winou CONSISTENTLY writes absolute bangers that make me so giddy. this one in particular is one of my favorites, and her writing style reminds me of a soft summer breeze. she's such a bubbly person and its so fun talking to her, even if we don't talk often. ^^ she's one of the three people that keeps my deuce content afloat.

one could say many things about the beloved @hisui-dreamer!! from the way she adores her friends to teh way she writes, rinna is always soft and sweet. she radiates comfort and is such a soothing person, i feel so safe around her. she writes x reader content and every single piece is its own masterpiece. she's one of my closest friends on here and i wish nothing but the best for her every day.

@merotwst, who has a bucnh of adorable oc content (on @meromessy !!) and writes x readers!! ellie in on haitus right now takinga well deserved break. <3 but she writing is amazing and i am FLOORED whenever i see her art!!! it's literally so gorgeous and i don't understand how she does it. its crazy. how is so much talent in one person.

@siren-serenity is not only a lovely author of x reader content, but also a lovely friend. ^^ siren also has an oc named melody who is so cool!!!! she was the pastor at my wedding and fought TOOTH AND NAIL for that position LMAO love u renren!!! she really writes azul SUPER WELL and im so happy to have met someone so calm and soothing to talk to.

@officialdaydreamer00, aka nutmeg, is a rascal. an absolutely rascal but they're really the best. they have a yuusona with LORE and a bunch of really creative & cute events!! seriously nutmeg, nobody does it like you. if you want to see our favorite twst boys in strawberry dresses or recieve a pair of cute earrings, irene's blog is the place for you!!!

@the-v-lociraptor has STELLAR art. she was one of my firts mutuals on twst tumblr and i was terrified of talking to people but her vibes were very much "i am nice you dont need to be afraid" and sniffling scared me was like "OKAY I CAN TALK TO YOU" LMAO but yeah. she draws people so,,, full. thats the only word i can use to describe it. they just look s soft and alive and its really so amazing. i love her art so much!!

@siphoklansan is another artist!! i think about the art she drew from loona's heart attack with twst character weekly basically. it has been stuck in my brain since i started following her. sippy, its trully beautiful how you mix your culture and your art together. i remember you talking about it when you were drawing fairy gala stuff and it was just stunning. please keep doing what you're doing!! i hope your hiatus proves restful <3

@ceruleancattail is one of THE most creative writers i have ever met on this platform. every time i check out their account theyre talking about a new au or doing something different. they write x reader stuff and ar ethe biggest cater kisser ever (even if they wont admit it hehe!!) their writing is so refreshing, if that makes sense. their butler au is so goofy whaahwwahwah

@moonlit-midnight has the prettiest writing style :((( hannah is literally so sweet and it shows in everything you can find on this blog. THIS BLOG HAS PLATONIC FICS TOO!!!! DID YOU KNOW THAT?????? and even better, they're inspired by hannah's own friendships :((( literally the most wholesome thing. you can find x reader's here!!!

@iseethatimicy is an x reader writer and fellow azul kisser!!! she writes some really cute stuff for oour favorite silly little cephalopod AND AND AND AND HAS SOME OCS!!! THATA ARE SUPER COOL!!!!! shimiko and icy are both so cool and interesting 9EVEN THOUGH IM VERY SHIMIKO BIASED AAAAA I LOEV SIREN TROPES !!!!!)

@ryker-writes IS SO KIND. he gave me the sweetest set of flowers for his garden event :(( i still think about them and aaaaa i havent forgotten when he fought me over me being cool LMAO so goofy wahhwaawh!! HIS OC JAXON AND RIDDLE ARE LITERALLY SO CUTE :((( he writes x reader content & makes oc content!!!

@totallymem3 draws occasionally and omgggg meme's art is gorgeous. HAVE YOU SEEN HER DRAW AZUL. her art is so soft and its honestly adorable :(( meme is such a nice mutual too!!! like i met her on anon a while ago we've been besties ever since fr. HER ART REMINDS ME OF SPRING GO CHECK IT OUT PLEASE!!!!!

@z3llous is SO TALENTED!!!! another mutual that im liek WOW how do you exist??? he creates the most stunning twst fanart :((( THE OCTAVINELLE BIAS IIS SO REAL AND SO SO OBVIOUS BUT WOW.....WOW IS IT GOOD. zell is also a game developer and if you like cute little kitties and adventure games you should totally try it out here!!!

@cecilebutcher MAKES THE BEST OCS. creator of igor and saver of the universe. im not kidding igor saved the universe IDC WHAT YOU SAY ITS CANON TO ME. cece i sliterally the sweetest and soososososo creative i am eating up every crumb of igor content i get fed. OM NOM NOM. ofc junto is nice too and hes so sweet!!! GAHH you just put so much love and care into yoru ocs its so admirable :((((

@ang33333333l is another azul kisser that i became mutuals with a while ago!!! dolls love for sebek and azul is very sweet to see and her yuusona fauna is adorable too!! she also draws her yuu and characters sometimes!! :D she doesn't have a lot of oc content up on dolls blog yet but im looking forward to seeing more!! >:D

@leonistic deserves the most underrated writer of the year award. soru writes x reader content and is another super sweet mutual of mien (I KNOW IM SAYING THAT A LOT OKAY.) she writes aroace content and its literally feeds me. seriously. their aroace azul content makes me giggle and kick my feet and GAHHHHH !!! plus they have the patient to do matchups which is crazy and i love them for that ^^

@rains-asleep is the nickname master because he calls me straubs and thats such an adorable nickname :(((( HIS WRITING IS SUPER CUTE AND IT GIVE SME SO MUCH SEROTONIN (they write x readers btw!!!!!) they recently hit 500 followers (CONGRATS AGAIN!!!!!) and they also write for haikyuu, mha, genshin impact, and obey me!!!

@shinysparklesapphires is an artists that has a lot of cool ocs!! i believe navi was the first one i was introduced to and he's such an icon ^^ sapphy is also really into precure and produces a lot of content for the fandom!! i have yet to finish the precure series she recommended to me but its good so far and laura is the best so true!!

@datboredpencil has THE most STUNNING art. if you want idia x cater content this is DEFINITELY THE BLOG FOR YOU!!! each piece has so much love poured into it and i swear. YOURE ALWAYS LIEK "its a work in progress" BUT IT STILL LOTS SO LOVELY :((( YOUR USE OF COLOR IS JUST SO MUAH!!! CHEFS KISS!!!!!!! I ADORE IT

@twistwonderlanddevotee makes really pretty backgrounds!!! i actually used the isaac one she made for my private account AND ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT I WANT TO EAT IT SWALLOW IT WHOLE MUNCH ON IT SHAKE IT AROUND LIEK A DOG TOY ANYWAYS. i am very normal about sofia's backgrounds. PLEASE GO CHECK THEM OUT its literally so unique?? like who else makes backgroudns liek sofia. Nobody.

@queen-shiba has an open inbox everyone!! you're welcome to send in requests!!! ^^ the queen of savanaclaw makes oc content for chuki, a really sweet kid taht deserves all the cookies in teh world :((( ALSO!!! she has an au for the tsavo man-eaters which is super cool!!! :O she passion for lions and tigers really is admirable and its nic eto see her talk about them :3

@beeirdos-buzzing-bogaloo has a gift when it comes to making ocs!! thule remains my favorite of the ones he has talked about because his design is just so neat!!! I LOVE THAT HIS NICKNAME FROM ROOK IS "MONSIEUR STARGAZER" :((( you have so many ocs that i havent even heard about yet...so im super curious to see what else you put out!!!

@dove-da-birb IS SUCH A GENIUS. they're one of my closests friends and their writing is SO BEAUTIFUL. they're also kidn of a little shit though so watch out /aff tehy write x reader content and draw sometimes, although i dont think theyve posted any of them. ^^ dove is SUCH a delight i promise you'll have fun every single time you talk to them. their energy is infectious and im genuinely really glad im the main target for their chaos. i would not have it any otehr way.

@ashipiko has such delicious art!!! the colors are always so vibrant and the way she draws is so unique. truly, a staple of both the twisted wonderland and as3! fandoms!! her energy is always upbeat and cheery, its hard not to smile when youre talking to her!! truly the biggest ace kisser on thsi platform (probably in the world too hehe)

@shyhaya writes for a myriad of fandoms!!!!!! hayami writes an azul thing for me that made me lose my mind IT WAS SO GOOD. PLEASE check out this blog. you wont regret it. requests are open!! ^^ even twst content aside, im sure you'll find something you like sich haya writes for so many fandoms!! talk about multitalented :3

@thehollowwriter has so many gems. quinn writes every character in twst so well, teh writing is so immersive and just ughhhh MUAH!!!!! every piece with azul in it is such a banger and it makes me giggle and kick my feet :3 LITERALLY THERE IS SO MUCH X READER FLUFF AND ITS ALL GOOD ITS A CRIME I DIDNT FIND THIS BLOG SOONER.

@cyath, who has some of the PRETTIEST art i have EVER seen. they draw stuff based on my fics all of the time and i adore it so much. examples of their art can be found here, here, here, and here. do you understand what i mean. do you get it. their art style is SUPERIOR and i ADORE IT!!!!!! they truly have so much talent like damn save some for the rest of us hello!!!!!

@crheativity writes twst x readers!! she's a beginner writer so PLEASE PELASE SHOW HER SOME LOVE!!! right nwo she has some heartslabyul content that i havent gotten around to reading yet but i am SUPER excited to go through them when i get the chance!!! rhea is super fun to talk to hehe <3

and lastly, @jade-s-nymph who organized this whole thing!!! rubia is on hiatus right now but i've seen some of her projects and a few of the things she's written and they're all really good!! there's a lot of x reader content on her writing blog and self indulgent nymphleech content on her personal blog :3

#twst spotlight #whew its finally finished!!!!!#honestly you all are so talented #thakn you so much for talking to me ^^#you all have been the cause of many smiles and tons of laughter ove the few months ive been here #no fandom has left such a positive impression on me in so little time #you guys are people to remember #every single one of you #and its sappy as HELL i know LOOK AWAY IF YOU DONT WANT SAPPY AUBURN #but teh way you all support each other and talk about things and connect is just so effortlessly beautiful #im so happy that ive been accepted into such a lovely group #im in awe of you all every single day #i hope you never lose the courage and motivation to do what you love #writing and art and anything else aside #i hope you can always find your people in every creative space you enter and i hope ever day you remember your worth!!!#its so amazing how our brains work and give us so many ideas and how we can just put those into words on onto a canvas for other people #this took forever so i will go take a break now but seriously you guys are all amazing

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hood-ex · 4 months

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My dad was Bruce-ing again today.

Dad: Where are your keys? I'm gonna go put more air in your tire.

Me: I already filled it up this week.

Dad: Oh okay.

Dad goes upstairs for a second and comes back with a bag in his hand.

Dad: Here, take this poncho and put it in your glove compartment. In case you have to pull over in the rain, put it on so other cars can see you.

So then I took my new bright ass orange poncho to my car, bypassing the three water bottles my dad had stuffed in the door pocket as well as the emergency phone battery pack charger he stuffed in another pocket.

#i also have an air compressor in my car. toilet paper. jumper cables. portable jumper cables/battery charger. tool box.#and then my own contribution includes a first aid/emergency kit #honestly surprised he didn't get me a jack to put in there but then again idk how to change my tires so alkdja #no but this man is literally bruce in the ''always be prepared'' type of way.#he literally has a closet dedicated to extra food and toilet paper and soap and tons of other things #we call it his store. ''hey we're out of dishwasher detergent. oh i'll go look for some in dad's store.''#he also has flashlights Everywhere. i probably have 2-3 in my room bc he's just randomly like ''em take this flashlight.''#he literally gave me another one like a week ago or something. and y'know what they've actually been handy as fuck when the power goes out #he's also given me a penlight for my purse but i think i need a new one #just whew.

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jacksprostate · 6 days

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Part 4 (with links to the other parts)

The first thing I do is, I talk to the man who takes my sheets, with his scrapdog ears and eyebrows, and I tell him: address him properly.

The word spreads on its own. I remember, before I was used to it, that knowing lilt. Sir. It’s still present. Take your pills, sir. It’ll be alright, sir. Take your time recovering.

Mills starts cursing at the staff. We pass in the halls, he yells at me, tells me to stop them. He’s not their fucking leader. Call off my dogs.

I smile, too wide. They’ve never listened to me, not really. Especially not on this.

I can’t help you.

Naturally, he hates this.

The second thing I do is, I ask for photographs. News clippings. Marla’s dildo was large, questionable, encouraging of disorder, and a choking hazard. Slips of paper are much more tolerable contraband. I’m given free rein, like one of Zimbardo’s incentivized guards. It’s a psychology experiment in a psychology experiment, and my psychiatrist is playing Jane Goodall.

It’s arts and crafts, and all the attendees are either bruised or braindead. There is no one stopping me. I glue all my collected pieces together into the rough shape of a heart, like it’s Valentine’s Day, and I turn to Mills, trapped at the back of the room. He hasn’t seen a shred of what I’m up to.

Something to remember her by, I say. I don’t call him sir, because I never have. I wonder if he knows this.

I see him look, more instinct than anything from getting layers of paper shoved in his face, and I see how he clenches his teeth so hard his jaw creaks. He rips the collage of his wife out of my hands, and I can tell, he hates me. Real hate, like he wants death to fuck my body until it’s not even for the worms.

He can’t bear to destroy it, and now I know every time he looks at it in his room, he’ll be thinking of me. Funny how that works.

The thing is; Mills actually didn’t try to kill me this time, so I think I need to take it up a notch.

I cross the cafeteria just so I can spit in his food. I piss on his door and get the space monkey janitors to leave it for fifty-seven hours. In group therapy, I take a page from Chloe and monologue about how the last thing I’d like to do is get my rocks off chemically unhindered before the seizure medications they’ve got me on arrest all of my brain activity altogether. A nice nugget for Mills to report back to Somerset about my proposed psychosexual obsession. I segue into discussing how I met Tyler, on the nude beach, grit all across him as he hauled pilings and sat with his bare ass in the sand. It’s the most I’ve ever said about Tyler. The group minder scribbles on her sheet like mad as I describe Tyler’s wet, blond hair. His minute of perfection.

And he still doesn’t try to fight me. I know he wants to. He wants to shake me by my throat and rattle me and slam my head into the ground until it splits open like a rotten egg. But he doesn’t, and he looks torn. Like he’s guilty. Like Tyler could ever really feel guilt.

This is one of the things I want to complain about when Marla calls me.

She still does. More than when she was alive. But she says nothing, and I can’t break the silence. I sit there, orderlies watching as I say nothing, she says nothing, just a whole bunch of dead air between us.

Ghosts were always calling for Marla, at Paper Street.

Now I’ve got Marla’s ghost on the line and Tyler’s ghost in the flesh, and neither want to talk to me.

We get locked up in supervised one-on-one again, now with both of us chained and one twitch away from a new addiction.

I ask Mills, did you talk to her enough, that last week?

Do you think she knew you loved her?

Do you think she felt loved?

Mills asks for the sedation, this time. Polite about it, like he’s not seething. Like I can’t see how his eyes have been only half empty most of these days, since I’ve managed to fill him up with rage at me. Folie à deux, I want it so bad.

I am Jack’s crippling sense of rejection.

My stupid psychiatrist, he lets Mills amble out of the room and traps me in there.

I’m corralled. An angel on either shoulder. All the staff who aren’t from the Project have stopped laughing at my jokes. My antics have not gone unobserved. I’ve been given my time to rein as the world’s most entertaining lab rat, and now this localized god wants results.

“What’s your goal here?”

Isn’t it obvious?

“No. Tell me about what you’re thinking,” he says. I look at him, and I see him, for the first time. Not disillusioned, not holy. Just a sniveling doctor with a penchant for human experimentation and the funding to enable him.

How horribly average.

He says, “I understand this is difficult for you, but we really need to know what’s going on if you want to have continued support in this manner for your recovery.” Play nice, or you’ll lose your favorite toy.

I say, this has never been about recovery. It’s time we faced that, isn’t it?

This man, so used to my religious apathy, has never truly had a challenge. He looks pinched.

He says, “Of course I want you to recover.”

And I laugh, and I point out that we both know those outside these halls are more interested in what’s wrong with me than any semblance of fixing it.

You’re not getting paid to drain the swamp in my head. You’re here to keep it plugged up, decomposing. We both know this, I’m just acknowledging it. I laugh.

I tell this little god, he can write me up in all his little acclaimed journals.

But don’t come to me, saying I have to play your little games or you’ll take Mills away. We both know you won’t. The day I give up, the day I become a real vegetable is the day your cash cow keels over. You’re not going to punish me. Not really. You’ll take away my jello, my oats, you’ll put me on lithium and clozapine and valproic acid, but you don’t really want this to end. You don’t want me to get better. You want Tyler back just as much as I do. You can’t do shit to me. I have nothing to lose.

You have everything.

Tyler’s words, back home in my mouth. They’re mine now. I get up and the orderlies flanking me do nothing. I look down on this small, small man, and I think, he has never known a bigger fish. He doesn’t even know the hands that feed him.

I’ve hit bottom, I say, and it’s not you who holds the shovel. Be grateful I let you observe.

#fight club #my writing #se7 #se7en (1995)#se7en #back on my bullshit !#theres a turn after this. i feel like this fic getting posted in breaks of several weeks is not ideal oops #ill probably go through and try to clean it up when i post it on ao3. but we are still a ways away. getting pretty long. whew #still have several major scenes....

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whitherwanderer · 3 months

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- N I N E T Y -

💎💥 - 🗡️🏹 🌸⛏️ - 💀🥀

#ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots #[ unedited ]#[ reshade ]#[ anamnesis ]#[ custom poses ]#oh boy here we go INHALES #[ for whom the sun speaks ]#[ the steel hawk ]#[ the worn edge ]#[ the longest road ]#[ copper heart ]#[ jadeite soul ]#[ gatherer's guile ]#[ winter's heart ]#WHEW that's a lotta character tags #also i had no idea what emoji to use for sage tbh #and despite my insistence that Nat is a BTN not a RPR i wanted her in the RPR gear :)#only three of these idiots qualify for their jobs by virtue of having a soul stone anyway #one of those soul stones is broken in half #another is a crystallized sliver of a literal soul #and only ONE of them is a real traditional soul stone #suffice to say the definitions of “job” are loose here #i don't see any of the scions toting soul stones anyway except estinien probably #thancred can't even USE one #drew carey voice: welcome to final fantasy where the jobs are made up and the qualifications don't matter

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pcktknife · 2 months

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Yo! Do you use HoYoLAB, that social media app hoyoverse made? It is FOUL on there

hoyolab hurts the brain to be on for too long

#siiiigh i have it for check ins and the occasional mindless scroll #big thing over there rn(?) is genderbends which whew some of them thangs...aside from other things #i get that genshin women wear revealing clothing but u gotta take the character into account man.. would wriothesley wear short shorts #....ever? cmon put some thought into it. and they take the muscle away too sometimes like girl go to hell #and ppl over there are like...kinda mean. love to give criticisms where they arent asked for. weirdly hostile #i like to keep my hoyofan interactions to a minimum and ppl on hoyolab make me remember why #asks #anon #wait and circling back to the genderbends...the hair why are we doing the short hair thing like a third of the men in that game have hair #longer than chin length what are we cutting hair for #i should just make a catchall hyvrs tag #mhy

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fumifooms · 2 months

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fumi i hope you know that in an extra of how laios' party is formed he is explicitly banned from getting a crush on marcille.

like i know you went in depth on the trauma he has because of humans on your laimar post about the succubus but please know that he was explicitly banned its so goddamn funny.

im crying laughing while typing this out happy laimar love loses 🥂

Lmao yeah 🥂

It’s a very fun comic! The marriage seeker mystery can finally be put to rest 😌 I don’t really think it changes much, that it overrides anything we knew or that I theorized, esp since we already knew about the party-wide romance ban, but the meme potential (and fic potential) IS so strong now that we know Laios was the one most targeted and distrusted of all… And trust was the biggest issue, romance brings nothing but trouble in their minds but the trouble they experienced with the marriage seeker was because she was disingenuous and manipulative and Laios was oblivious, and as time went on the party realized that Marcille was trustworthy and they stopped worrying about that particular scenario happening. It can def bring a new meaning to the "This is my succubus?!! No one can see it no one can know AAAAA" line though lmfaoo. It’s so funny and honestly such a win for aroace Laios

#I’ve been wanting to make a post detailing the history/timeline of the Touden party and its members so it helps out so much #Ask #Laimar #Spoilers #Laios going for her throat when she tries a kiss because of his workplace conduct contract #Laios post-canon going to Chilchuck like So if i wanted to date Marcille…… Am I allowed…#Chilchuck ‘… Laios the party disbanded a year ago. You’re the king’#‘Whew ok thank goodness’#Dungeon meshi manga spoilers #Honestly Chilchuck in that extra comic takes up all my brain space the rest is just sprinkles on Chil’s introduction. I love the insight #we got on how he does business. HE LOOKED LIKE A MEAN COWBOY WHEN YOU ENTER THE WRONG SALOON #Oh might as well say it here but i think many ppl are following me lately expecting laimar content and </3 #You’ll have to send asks to pry laimar content out of me bc I have moved on to greener pastures.#Aka overanalyzing every pixel of marchil interactions #Meta

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marisatomay · 2 years

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what if i went insane

#TOO LATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i’m SORRY thomas the girlies found an HD rip of your masterpiece #that elevator carrier shot WHEW #i’m brave enough to say that tom cruise in dress whites has been foundational stuff for people going on 40 years now #‘hey you know how we all look stupid when we’re on our phones in the dark? well what if tom cruise didn’t?’#top gun #top gun maverick

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princington · 1 year

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it was something like prayer, dabbing soot from her hairline and the corners of her jaw. oh, you gripped her tightly; ... to make her less Christ-like to you, with her split lip and the graze on the bridge of her nose that made her look so young.

by such slight ligaments are we bound ch 6

#fic rec: by such slight ligaments are we bound #author rec: daisychiansandbowties #sister beatrice #sister lilith #warrior nun #reading this fic is like WHEW #lilith and bea are so *clenches fist* in this #anyway please go read it camila is a gem here as always im just not great at drawing camila yet

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 7 months

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Day 8: Mountain/Chains

Prompt List

Pt. 6 of The Empire of Samadhi AU

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 (you are here) | Pt. 7 (coming sometime...)

(This is day 8 of the Monkie Destiny Challenge Prompt Month October 2023)

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: Red Son is the son of an old empire, Mei is the daughter of a new one. Red Son, consumed by fire, was put into an induced stasis sleep to stop the world from burning until his family can find a way to safely remove the fire. They find a way but he never wakes up. Hundreds of years later he awakes to discover his power resides within another as she stares at him with wide eyes on fire.

Split.

They reached the mountain at daybreak.

It wasn’t massive but it still counted as a mountain, albeit a small one. There were seals and spells lining the caverns on the inside of it, if nothing much had changed since Red Son had last visited the place. It was a little out of their way and put them a good half a day behind schedule to reach, but the mortals were insistent. Much to Red Son’s frustration.

Why they were taking this detour was simple.

Liú.

That little puppet Mk had tucked into his sash comfortably that morning, with his little puppet arms and face free of the fabric. He’d spent a needlessly long amount of time making sure he was comfortable, not being crushed. No matter how many times Red Son told him he likely couldn’t feel it, Mk wasn’t taking any chances.

“Just in case,” he had said that morning. “He might be conscious. It would be boring to look at the inside of a pocket all day.”

No matter how much Red Son scoffed at it, Mei chimed in that she thought it was a good idea so that was the end of it, and he could do nothing to convince him otherwise.

They were idiotic fools.

They were weird.

They chatted with the puppet all the way too, and on the way up the mountain, in-between complaints of sore feet and burning muscles from their upward decent. Red Son had to listen to their aggravating recap and their ‘Sifu Samadhi, he might look scary but he’s a softy,’ all the way up the mountain.

Red Son was not a softy.

He was going to kill them both the moment he had the fire just to prove that.

“He can’t hear you,” Red Son tried to tell them for the thousandth time.

“Maybe he can,” Mei said, sticking out her tongue like she did every time she replied.

Truly they were idiotic.

He had no doubt if Liú really was conscious as a little puppet, he would have rather been shoved into a pocket than listen to their whining. At least then the sounds would be muffled.

“Are we there yet?” Mei groaned. “We've been walking for ages.”

“Two hours,” Red Son said through gritted teeth, “is not ages.”

“It's dark out,” Mk complained, “I want to sleep.”

Red Son took a moment to breathe. If he pushed either of them off the mountain now he might never get his fire. “This little detour is costing us precious time. The sooner we reach the top the better. Unless you’d rather take a nap and watch the world burn from this vantage point?”

That at least shut them up for a while. Then there was nothing but annoyed noises and huffing and puffing.

Honestly they held up better than expected. Despite their complaining they were keeping up with Red Son’s, what would be considered, brutal pace for mortals.

They reached the top before sunrise.

Luckily the big open surface carved out remained which meant they wouldn’t need to clear anything. The last time Red Son had been here, there had been monuments and structures and even green life everywhere. He didn’t acknowledge the blackened empty state of it.

Red Son drew the circle in the ash and dirt himself, since he didn’t trust either of them to know what they were doing. It didn’t take very long, but it was long enough for Mei to complain again. Red Son ignored her. He scratched the letters into the dirt then snatched some of his fire from the rings and lit the spell. The fire filled the grooves quickly until every bit of lettering was illuminated.

“Now,” he said, dusting his hands off and turning to Mei. “First things first. This is going to cause quite a commotion in the middle of nowhere. Without any life disguising my power, we might as well be sending an invitation to that thing to come find us. So.” He stepped over to one of the edges of the flat space, purposefully not too far away from the circle, but not close enough to mess with the spell. “This is our escape route. If he comes, stand here, and it will take us out of here in a more permanent teleportation than I can currently provide.”

“Cool,” Mei said. “Where does it go?”

“Let me worry about that,” Red Son said, crossing his arms. “Now the spell. Not that I care but keep in mind that if you lose control at any point during the ritual, he will undoubtedly die.”

“What?” said Mk, shielding the puppet with his hand.

“No pressure or anything,” Mei muttered. She frowned at the spell.

“Hurry up, we don’t have all day,” Red Son snapped.

“You can do this, Mei,” Mk said. “I know you can.”

That made her crack a smile. They were both so strange. “Thanks Mk.” She seemed to brighten just a little bit. “Alright, let's do this.” She got into position and planted her feet.

Mk hurried forward and placed the puppet in the middle of the circle, gently brushing ash from the spot so there was a clear spot to place it down. He then scurried out of the ring, cursing as the hem of his hanfu caught fire. He stamped it out, giving a big bright smile when Red Son glared at him.

Mei took a breath, closing her eyes. She placed the palms of her hands together in a meditative movement, then her eyes snapped open and she stared with intense focus at the puppet on the ground. “Ready.”

Red Son nodded. He lifted his hand, breathed and released the puppet from the seal.

It was an awful twisting, crumpling moment, then there the puppet stood at its full size. Its one eye blinked.

“Now!” Red Son yelled.

Fire exploded over them.

Red Son thought just in time to yank Mk behind him to shield him from it. Red Son planted his feet, nearly slipping from the force of it.

“A bit of overkill,” he said through gritted teeth as he held the fire at bay. She likely didn’t hear him mutter it over the roar of the flames. That had been his intention. He wasn’t stupid enough to interrupt her focus on purpose.

The puppet cowered, shielding its face, but its feet remained glued to the ground, trapped by the spell. The flames washed over it. It wailed.

“Ignore it!” Red Son yelled to Mei before she could hesitate or ask. “Continue the ritual!”

The fire burned through layers of the curse.

“It's working!” Mk spoke like he could see it which was absurd.

Chains flickered into view. They connected to the puppets wrists and ankles, long and icy and blue. Deep churning gray ones wrapped around the rest of him as though they were holding him together. Those chains were much thinner and weaker than the blue, but both could be handled just fine. One part possession, one part curse. The seals on the chains lit up with light, exposed by the fire.

The fire flickered green. Red Son grit his teeth and said nothing.

“You almost got him! Keep going!” Mk yelled.

“I… am…” Mei grunted, straining and pushing the fire at the puppet, trying to keep it aimed at him. Some of it lashed out to the side, dangerously close to Mk.

“Focus, Dragon Girl,” Red Son barked.

“Both of you zip it!” Mei snapped back. “Stop yelling at me-”

One of the chains cracked.

“Keep going, you're doing it!” Mk cheered.

“I asked for quiet please!”

The puppets' eyes flickered from empty to wide and pained and human. The puppet-like designs on its skin seemed to start to burn off. Its screaming was muffled by the fire.

“This is really hard!” Mei yelled.

“Of course it is!” Red Son yelled back. “Keep going!”

A chain snapped.

“You’re doing it, Mei! You’re doing it!”

“Yeah!” Mei cheered. Her power surged and pressed firmer against the curse.

Red Son hadn’t sensed anything, perhaps due to the massive surge of power in front of him. But quite unexpectedly he exhaled and his breath was visible, even with the flames in front of him.

He snapped his head up to look at the sky to find frosty clouds looming above them and closing in. The air behind where the fire was not was growing cold.

Red Son hadn’t felt him coming.

They needed to leave. Now.

“Dragon girl! Stop the fire! We need to go-!”

He landed a short distance away at the edge of the space and the mountain shook with the impact.

Red Son stumbled, on his feet, some of the fire escaping past him and over to Mk.

The fire vanished.

“Mk, grab Liú,” Mei barked. If Red Son wasn’t distracted he might have been proud of her authoritative voice, clearly reminiscent of his own.

Mk jumped into action and ran forward, jumping over rocks. He scooped the puppet off the ground, and bolted back to Red Son.

The figure that filled Red Son with such dread started forward.

The fire blasted into existence again, all of it focused on the possessed creature.

“Leave it! We need to go!” Red Son yelled. He and Mk were already standing in the escape route, they just needed Mei.

Chains flickered.

Red Son realized that his uncle was walking into the circle they’d made for the puppet.

Chains, white freezing chains, thin and thick, wrapping around every limb, tight around every movement. There looked to be hundreds of them, some of them thicker than some tree trunks Red Son had seen, and only getting bigger, as they stretched out of sight. They wrapped around his wrists, his arms, his ankles, his legs, his tail, his throat, his torso, his head.

Every single chain link from big to small had a seal on it.

The horror that Red Son felt choked him for a moment.

“Wait!” Mei yelled. “Do you see that? Maybe I can-”

“YOU CAN’T!” Red Son roared. “LEAVE IT, MEI.”

He could see her hesitate. It was a split second of her really truly considering… Then she growled. With a frustrated yell, she hurled as much fire as she could at their pursuer before she abandoned the circle and sprinted towards where Red Son and Mk stood.

“Hurry!” Mk held out his arm to her. “He’s right behind you!”

Mei didn’t glance back, she just launched herself forward, leaping at them.

Red Son slammed his hand onto the ground on top of the spell to activate it seeing her trajectory. He didn’t pray that he’d timed it right, he knew he had.

That was the moment that everything went wrong.

Mei was jerked backward, the Possessed catching the back of her hanfu.

Mk lunged out of the circle and tackled him.

Mei was catapulted forward and bowled into Red Son, knocking him off his feet and partially out of the spell.

The possessed moved forward, Mei lunged for Mk, the spell activated just as she touched him and the mountaintop exploded.

The impact of Red Son hitting the ground face-first nearly knocked him out. It left him dizzy and disoriented for a moment.

He pushed himself up and staggered to his feet.

He looked for Mei first, expecting her to be a short distance away, buried by rubble or fighting his uncle, but very suddenly realized several things:

He wasn’t atop the mountain any longer. He was beside a running river, surrounded by trees. It was damp, not as dry, there was no ash or flame to be found.

He couldn’t feel the warmth of his fire at all, which meant it was no longer in close proximity with him.

His uncle, Mei and Mk were nowhere to be found.

His fire was gone.

Red Son punched a tree, splitting a fist-shaped hole into the wood.

Then he wordlessly screamed at the sky for more than a few reasons but mainly because that had really hurt.

Imbeciles.

| beginning | next (coming...sometime...) |

#KNOX WRITES (me)#Monkie Destiny Challenge (2023)#Monkie Kid the Empire of Samadhi AU #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie kid #Monkie Kid Mei #Monkie Kid Mk #have i just skipped day 7 entirely? m a y b e #not purposefully i just had the idea for a truth serum/curse fic thing and i was thinking about writing that just haven't had the time #this one was already partially written #I'VE HAD A VERY FULL WEEKEND OKAYGBS;FKLSMDF #hopefully i'll get todays prompt out too before the day is done #whew weeee #we shall see how this goes i don't have any ideas for it yet hG;LSKJF #REMEMBER TO HYDRATE #this one feels very short BUT ITS FINE MOVING ON #MY COMPUTER KEEPS OVERHEATING I NEED TO SPEED OFF HERE I'M JUST TRYING TO POST THIS WHEEZING #straight up i couldn't think of what they were going to do next so i did this to give my brain something new to consider mWAHHAHAHA #what will happen next... hm..?

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