#simply HAD to polish that one up a bit XD)

[comickergirl]

Kara Zor-El, Woman of Tomorrow!

#my art #supergirl #dc comics #long post #kara zor el #osul ra #otho ra #action comics #my goal with these was to be a bit more loose #and let some of the drawings remain unfinished #(could not help myself with that last one though #simply HAD to polish that one up a bit XD)

[youshiai]

Lovebrush Chronicles, Thoughs on Story and route ranking type of thingy

~ Disclaimer: These are personal impressions ~

Now that I've completed Eden in its entirety, I've been wanting to compile some of my thoughts about the story, and even rank all the routes, according to my personal preference as well as my opinions about this game's narrative quality.

I'm in no way a professional writer but I would consider myself at least decently knowledgeable about what makes a story memorable, and what does not (Questionable).

So, without any further ado, lesss goo~~

In a general sense, my favorite world was, no doubt, Godheim!

Eden unfortunately became way too formulaic. The first three routes had a very defined pattern between the days going by and how MC's relationship with the particular boy would develop as well as its conclusion. Not much information and perspective was given on the overall plot between these routes, with the exception of maybe, Lars's. Still, I did not particularly enjoy how Alkaid was treated be it on Lars's route or any other in Eden, for that matter. I personally think they failed in showing, in a more engaging manner, his struggles and shortcomings. And I also don't like how in the exposure we would get at the end of each route, he would always be seen and treated in such a nonchalant black or white manner. It made him feel like such a cartoonish villain at times.

Another point I did not particularly enjoy is how MC's personality, drive, decision making, and observation skills would get watered down whenever she had a romantic interest. The relationship or just attachment is developed too fast and from that point onwards she puts way too much focus on the particular boy or group safety/companionship, almost completely disregarding the reason that made her get to that particular planet in the first place. The way she simply forgets or never wonders much about the boy that called her to Eden, personally drives me insane. He is so obviously Alkaid. And if he's not, the Master of Eden should be her priority, as she needs to get closer to people in positions of power in order to understand the truth of the world better.

The prologue and the Final Route gives us more of her seasoned traveler side, which absolutely makes sense, since she's got an absurd amount of experience in Godheim with all the time travel she did in order to fully understand how to resolve everything in that world.

About Eden's final route, I think our big reveal and conflict (Luminary Prefect and Alkaid's price to pay for saving his world by accepting and healing the resentment that came from a world being basically absorbed by another), fell way too short on presentation, logic sense and emotional weight and because of that felt unengaging and boring, mostly. Still, it was very interesting to see more people from The Empire and understand a bit more of their M.O.

All these things said, I enjoyed Eden quite a bit! Looking back at it, I can see it being rushed. I know they have competent writers, but maybe they didn't have enough time to freshen up some ideas and make them more polished, concise and impactful.

Still, I loved everything involving Clarence my beloved or Cael, also my beloved (biased much xD). What can I say? I adore their characters so every chance to see more about them is absurdly engaging and precious to me, even when surrounded by a not as polished of a plot.

On to Godheim!

Godheim is my favorite because everything that happens feels way more connected and rich in that world.

From the Prologue to the Last Route, we are met with incredibly captivating revelations. The existence of different worlds, the possibility of travel between them, the parallel world known faces, MC's unique abilities, Silver Knight's identity and his personal conflict with us, Clarence's past present and future and how we were the one shaping it. Everything is rich, meaningful, connected and not forgotten. Heck, all routes are canon, even, as MC did countless voyages until she could understand what needs to be done. Godheim is just... *chef's kiss* An impeccable first act for an ongoing and ever expanding game!

Now, on to my personal ranking for all routes! (so far)

1- Clarence (Godheim)

I am a sucker for destined love types of narratives, and I also love time travel used as cause and effect for someone's existence and connection with another, be it romantic or otherwise. Their execution of this troupe is absurdly memorable and heart wrenching. The way they involved real world Clarence and showed his trust towards MC is extremely moving and transcendental, in a way, it was really lovely. My favorite! This route has it all. Excellent writing, characterization, revelations, conflicts, conclusion, consequences. I love it tremendously.

2- Lars + Cael Hidden Story + card stories context (Godheim)

I couldn't separate these, they go together in my head. I'm sorry to say the reason Lars's route is my favorite is mostly because of Cael. His conflict with MC and subsequent confusion and heartbreak has been, so far, my favorite and most engaging moment in the entire game. I've written this, during the days I was experiencing these moments:

"There is something about this dynamic (Cael x MC), something I really love.

I believe it is because it involves key characters in the story showing a side we were not familiar at all with, and usually don't expect or wish to see...

It is a conflict between those that even while holding a lot of love and care for one another, and, in a way, acting mostly out of this deep love/care, are forced to confront one another and possibly grow distant. Because they can't agree the way this love might continue to exist while being authentic with very important personal values and vows.

It reminds me of Yuzuru Saeki, mostly, and even Ukyo.

It has those narrative and relationship connections floating around them.

A close relationship with the heroine we at first think nothing of, but begin to question as we explore the different timeline possibilities. The shock, hurt and betrayal we feel, as does the heroine, when we discover a dark and twisted side of someone we have learned to love and trust unconditionally.

When we are finally face to face we don't know who they are or how to feel about them anymore. Is it love still? Hate? Sadness? Despair? Disappointment? Confusion?

It is heartbreaking for both characters, heartbreaking for the readers when they get attached to them... a recipe to a very dramatic and soaked in tragedy relationship.

Ahh, I love it! Keep going hahahah."

3- Common Route (Godheim)

The introduction to the game comes with a bang! Godheim's prologue is very well made, bringing in a sense of adventure, wonder, danger, mystery, curiosity, tragedy, love... It has it all in a condensed manner. Personally I see this one as more of an Alkaid route than his own in Godheim and I love it a lot!

4- Clarence (Eden)

This is my favorite Eden route! As I'm not a big fan of how the plot was developed in Eden, this self contained story ended up being my favorite! As a Clarence enjoyer, there is so much to love here. We have Clarence a bit (!) less traumatized and closed off than his previous counterpart! We can see so much more of his sense of honor, emotional maturity, responsibility, friendship and unconditional respect! We have Naledi/Lin our beloved, being best girl, protecting us and letting us protect her in turn. We have pouty Alkaid being shooed, my poor misunderstood lonely angel. We have Clarence refusing to bow down to the world's established punishments and laws and simply overcoming them, being the first of its kind. A king! A king! In Clarence we trust for maturity, emotional security, respect and real companionship.

5- Common Route (Eden)

The common route to Eden is so engaging! Coming right after Godheim's superb ending, we are eager to see a new world, understand its problems, see our MC's progress, and discover more about Cael and The Empire. So many questions and a renewed sense of adventure! Truly captivating start and an opening with so many possibilities!

6- Ayn (Godheim)

It may not look like it, but I like this route a lot! As the very first one we experience, it helps us understand what this game goes for as far as characterization, interactions and romance goes. Ayn (I call him Ayn-Ayn) is a very good first partner as his character is quite charming and attractive! So it was a joy seeing his relationship developing with MC as they open up and depend more on one another!

From here onwards, I have mixed feelings towards the remaining routes.

7- Alkaid (Eden)

I honestly love the starting phase of this route. We see a more proactive MC, an adorable and protective Ayn-Ayn and finally the meetup between the child asking for help and the one that heard his cries and intended to offer it. MC's interactions with Alkaid are all adorable, even more so at the start, and it is very interesting to uncover more about his desires, the secrets of Eden and the personal inner turmoil and demon he has to constantly deal with. Unfortunately, when we finally get Prefect Luminary's big reveal, the story does fall considerably in its quality, in my view. I get what they intended to do and I believe they had good ideas, but the execution and presentation falls so short it is sad even, I wanted Alkaid from Eden to have more agency. Not even because he needed to do more, I believe he did his best, but at the same time it doesn't feel satisfying enough. One point I can bring up that may help understand my frustrations is the fact they tend to explain with words too much. His motivations, what he is feeling, thinking, what he plans on doing. Instead of showing us as he is going through these difficult times. The lack of visual aid during key moments of his character arc and struggles didn't help either, and they were linked to key plot points such as Eden's creation and rebirth.

I basically don't believe they have done his character justice with what we were shown. He is way more multifaceted and deep than what our interactions and explanations we've gotten would lead us to believe. Justice for Eden Alkaid!

Okay... trying again (what I've written from this point forward in this post has been sent to the void once, rip my time and all the ideas and meticulous observations I've shared then, let's pray the gods of inspiration come back to me sometime).

8- Lars (Eden)

I like the importance this route has on the overall plot, but I'm not a fan of how Lars was characterized, personally. His constantly going back on his word about being with us/guiding us/being our partner... ticked me off. But I can understand the appeal if you have different values and preferences from mine, so I can see it being someone's favorite.

(image limit, rip.png)

9- Ayn-Ayn (Eden)

Forgettable. At this point, Eden's formulaic nature was tiring me a bit and seeing as Ayn's personality is not particularly different from what we've been used to so far, I didn't feel much for this route. Although I liked the fact Ayn loves or at the very least feels a connection towards the MC from the very beginning, it is sweet. It is a nice one but held back by following the formulaic nature + not bringing much new/important. Cute for what it is tho, I love Ayn!

10- Alkaid (Godheim)

All last three spots could have been interchangeable. They are my most "mixed feelings" trio.

What I love about this route is my sweet Alkaid but he spends a lot of time unavailable, sleeping. What I dislike about this route is the silly snake man subplot, and he's here for too long. I like how we get Lars and Clarence on board for our naive plan that ends up working. To me, the real Alkaid route is the friends we made along the way Godheim's Commom Route !

So, in the end, I guess what I may want to say I consider important, all things considered, is characterization, case by case.

When characters are engaging and multifaceted, their interactions carry weight and make the moves the plot needs to make and its consequences way more interesting and memorable individually! So, the less the characters are engaging, or the less they are even present, the lower I feel impacted or moved by what is happening.

Ps: I had 35% of what was originally written here sent to the void, so I can't guarantee the quality from Lars's portion ahead, I had said some good things I'm not sure I can explain again the same way Y_Y

I also wrote this more because I wanted to vent out my opinions and have them on my personal archive, not much for sharing. But if anyone finds it, enjoy!

#I've been writing this for hours on my phone and had 35% of it wiped away at the end #otome #my thoughts #lbc

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH6

Soooo, I really thought I had posted this a long time ago lol. Shouts out to the person who commented on AO3 last week who made me realize I hadn’t XD For any of you who have been following this story from the beginning, you’ve probably already read this “chapter” because when I was rewriting MDCSP, I decided to come back and polish this one up too because my writing changed a bit during that rewrite, so I wanted this story to reflect that as well since I did intend to eventually come back to it. When I did that, I decided to split chapter 5 into two chapters iirc, and I think my intention was to finish the last two chapters and finish this out and post this chapter when I did that, but then I never did that. So, I did it now. Chapters 7 and 8 will also be out this week, and with the end of this fic, I can finally put my Chameleon salt days to rest. 

Read on AO3

Chapter 6

Adrien stalked across the floor to where Lila was sifting through a rack. She didn’t look up as he approached, but an amused smile curled on her lips.

“Marinette has such strange taste, don’t you think?” She held up a bright green blazer.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Adrien said.

“And yet every time I mess with her, you do nothing.” She rolled her eyes, returning the jacket to the rack. “You could end this whole charade right now by telling Clara you didn’t really invite me, but you’re not going to do that, are you? Because that wouldn’t be very nice.”

“I mean it, Lila. You’re messing with Marinette’s dreams, and that’s not okay.” She examined his stern expression with an amused smirk.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

“Mess around and find out.”

The confidence in Lila’s eyes flickered for a split second under his glare, a glint of worry that gave Adrien enough encouragement, but just as quickly as it appeared, the fear faded, paving way for Lila’s taunting once more. Adrien turned and stormed back to the dressing area, relaxing his shoulders as he rejoined the group.  

Marinette was finishing her second outfit, and this time, she personally handed Clara the bag. Adrien stood guard by the curtain, shooting daggers at Lila when she approached, which only made her smirk when she thought no one was looking. He wasn’t taking any chances. Lila wasn’t going to ruin Marinette’s dreams. He’d see to it.

When Clara emerged, she skipped onto the platform and gave a twirl. “Now this is a party outfit that’ll make me dance! I’m so glad I gave you a second chance.”

“You look awesome, Clara. Marinette is super talented when you get to wear what she actually picked,” Adrien said pointedly.

“I couldn’t agree more. This outfit is one I simply adore!” Clara stepped down to take Marinette’s hands. “Your style is simply the best. When it comes to fashion, there’s no contest.”

“Thank you, Clara. That means the world coming from you,” Marinette said, that spark of confidence returning to her eyes.

Lila’s jaw clenched as Adrien high-fived Marinette. For added insult, he draped an arm over her shoulders while Clara tried on Lila’s outfit. It didn’t matter what Lila had picked; she was no match for Marinette when they were competing honestly.

“Hmm…” Clara hummed, twisting in the mirrors to see the dress from all angles. “A lovely choice, don’t get me wrong, but this outfit just isn’t my song. Your first choice was far more on the nose, but I’ve got to be honest, these shoes are hurting my toes.”

“That’s okay. Marinette is incredibly talented. The only reason I won the first round was because of that mix-up. I’m sure she’s got something amazing up her sleeve for this next round too,” Lila said, curling her shoulders in the fakest show of humility Adrien had ever seen.

“Then let’s not waste any more time. I can’t wait to try on an outfit so divine. Tonight I will be Nadja’s TV guest, so let’s see which one of you is really the best!”

---

As Marinette took off, Adrien shot Lila a warning look before following after her. It was cute that he thought he could intimidate her into being nice, but Lila had direct orders. Things were going exactly as planned, and those two idiots were falling right into her trap. Soon Marinette’s aspirations would be nothing more than a pipe dream.

When Nathalie emerged from the back with a garment bag, Lila sauntered over to meet her. “Is this my dress?”

Nathalie responded by offering Lila her phone, and Lila pressed it to her ear.

“Nathalie tells me everything is going according to plan,” Gabriel said on the other line.

“Of course, M. Agreste. Marinette thinks she’s getting ahead, but with your help I’ll make sure her dreams are crushed for good. Then she’ll be sure to stay away from Adrien,” she said like a dutiful student.

“Good. I’m counting on you.” Gabriel hung up.

Lila lifted the bag with a smirk. Marinette chose the wrong opponent to challenge, and Lila was about to prove that she didn’t lie about everything. She was going to take everything from Marinette. Clara was just step one.

---

“I still don’t trust Lila,” Adrien whispered while Marinette browsed the wall of shoes.

“Don’t worry about her. We’re onto her little game now, so it’s impossible for her to steal my outfit again, and we both know Clara prefers my picks to hers now without a doubt,” Marinette said, sounding confident.

Under normal circumstances, Adrien would have been proud. Lila, however, was not normal circumstances.

“I know you’re better than her, but I just have a bad feeling. I don’t trust her,” Adrien said, glancing at Lila in accessories out of the corner of his eye.

Marinette zipped her bag and turned to look him in the eye. “I’m not asking you to trust her. I’m asking you to believe in me.”

Her bright blue eyes glowed with determination, and although he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut, he nodded her on. Marinette was brilliant and amazing — Adrien knew that. She had a bright future ahead of her so long as nothing got in her way. And if Lila even tried, Adrien would make sure karma picked her up on the way back around.

“Alright, chickadees, let’s see what you’ve got for me,” Clara said, bouncing in anticipation.

Marinette didn’t spare Lila a single glance as she paced over to Clara, but Adrien hung back to make sure she behaved. Lila seemed to all but ignore him until the last moment when she shot him a playful wink that sent his blood boiling.

“Oh, Clara, since I know Marinette is probably going to win, will you try on my outfit first?” Lila requested innocently. “Naturally, mine will pale in comparison, so I want you to give it a fair shot.”

“Lila, that’s quite the humble stance. I’d be more than happy to give yours a chance.”

Adrien instinctively bristled when Lila passed off her bag. What was she up to? His stomach churned in knots, and he stepped closer to Marinette, gleaning comfort from close proximity as if he could protect her from whatever scheme Lila was trying to pull.

When Clara emerged again, every jaw in the room dropped, and Adrien’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts at once. That dress wasn’t part of the normal collection — it was one of a kind. Adrien had seen it in his father’s office a few days prior. He wasn’t entirely sure how Lila got her hands on it, but it wasn’t by accident.

“This dress is so…so…” Clara gasped, abandoning her riddles and rhymes as she stared in awe.

Lila beamed, clasping her hands behind her back. “I really wanted to impress you this round, so I asked the staff if they hand anything special in the back. I truly care about your style, Clara, and I wanted to prove that to you.”

“Your attention to detail and willingness to go the extra mile certainly make you standout, Lila. I’d love for you to be my new style consultant,” Clara said, clasping her hands together over her heart.

Adrien’s heart snapped when he turned to Marinette, her once confident demeanor now shriveled in defeat. Lila caught his gaze, tilting her chin up with a smirk. I win. She seemed to gloat, and Adrien’s hands clenched into fists.

“Clara, I know this dress is beautiful, and I’m not entirely sure how Lila found it.” He shot her a quick glare. “But designing is Marinette’s true passion, and in my professional opinion, I think she would make an amazing personal stylist.”

“It’s fine.” The voice was Marinette’s, and she turned to Lila with a small smile. “I’m really happy for you, and I know you’ll do an amazing job.”

She held her head high and threw on a smile despite the anger and humiliation she must be feeling. They were committed to being kind to Lila in front of everyone, but Adrien didn’t care about that now. Lila had taken something from someone who deserved it, and more importantly, she’d done it to someone Adrien cared about. If Lila was going to ignore his warnings, then he’d have to repeat them a little louder.

“Clara, why don’t you try on Marinette’s pick just for fun. She worked really hard picking it out.” Adrien suggested.

“While my search has come to an end, I’d be more than happy to wear something picked by a friend.” Clara brushed Marinette’s nose with her finger and climbed back into the changing booth.

Adrien marched over to Gorilla, yanking his collar down to whisper in his ear. Lila was going to learn the price of hurting people precious to him. He didn’t care if it wasn’t nice. Lila wasn’t a nice person, so just this once, he wasn’t going to be either.

With everyone focused on Clara, no one noticed when Gorilla clamped a hand over Lila’s mouth and carried her to the back. A single employee followed, opening the door to the private bathroom as Gorilla tossed her in.

“What do you think you’re-” Lila’s voice trailed off when Adrien approached, hands shoved in his pockets. “Is this the part where you try and intimidate me? It’s not going to work. I know your little niceness scheme is all an act, and I’m about to leave you both in the dust.”

“Maybe.” Adrien leaned against the doorframe with a shrug. “But you seem to have forgotten where you are. Did you really think you had the advantage in a shop named Agreste? In case you didn’t realize, everyone here works for me.”

“You’re too late. I’ve already won.” Lila shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Clara picked me, and Marinette will never make it as a designer.”

“Marinette is going to be just fine. I’ll see to that,” he said. “Clara respects my opinion, so she’ll listen to me.”

“And why would you convince her to pick Marinette over me? Doesn’t that contradict your whole plan to nice me into compliance?” Lila sneered. “As soon as we go back out there, Clara will still have picked me, so this whole conversation is pointless.”

“Who said you’re going back out there?” Adrien quirked a brow. He shut the door, and an employee locked it from the outside.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Lila beat against it, furiously tugging the handle.

“It’s such a shame you’re so busy, Lila. Clara will be disappointed to hear that you’re too busy volunteering to clean public restrooms to devote time to being her personal stylist. I’ll be sure to send Marinette your best,” he called from the other side. “Don’t worry. Someone will let you out after we leave.”

“Adrien! Let me out!” Lila screeched, but he was already walking away.

Clara was admiring Marinette’s outfit in the mirror when he returned to the dressing area, and he draped an arm over Clara’s shoulders.

“Marinette did an amazing job, don’t you think, Clara?” He shot her a wink.

“It’s true that Marinette has good taste. Not picking her would be a waste…” Clara hummed, tapping her chin. “But Lila’s pick is still on my mind. A dress like that deserves to shine.”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped, and Adrien pursed his lips. “I know you picked Lila, but I think you should reconsider.”

“Where is Lila anyway?” Marinette glanced around.

“Oh, uh, you see, Clara, Lila has a very busy schedule. Her parents are ambassadors, so she is always traveling. She pulled me aside while you were changing and expressed worry over being able to devote the time to being your stylist.” Adrien explained smoothly. “She was absolutely thrilled that you wanted her for the opportunity, but she just has so much on her plate right now.”

“I see. Well, that’s a real pity,” Clara said.

Marinette eyed him curiously as Alya burst into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” she panted, doubling over to catch her breath.

Adrien stepped down to retrieve the pink sketchbook tucked under her arm. “Designing is Marinette’s true passion, and while she is good at pairing other people’s designs, creating her own is where Marinette really shines.” He offered Clara the sketchbook and nudged Marinette forward. “I know you had your heart set, but Marinette is incredible if you just give her a chance.”

“Wow, Marinette, your skills are certainly plain to see,” Clara said, admiring her sketches. “So, what do you say? Will you design clothes for me?”

“I- Yes! I would absolutely love to! Thank you, Clara.” Marinette gaped as Clara took her hands.

“The pleasure is all mine. Your designs are so divine. This deal is all set. I’m so happy that it’s you, Marinette!” Clara gave her hands a squeeze.

“What’s happening?” Alya quirked a brow.

Adrien smiled. “Marinette just became Clara Nightingale’s personal stylist.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt fic #lila salt #my writing #kill em with kindness #chameleon salt #adrien said fuck around and find out

[thesunicarusfellfor]

THE FUCKIN YANDERE GODS OMFG AWOOGA YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB THE FIC IS GOOD AS HELL!!!!

Is there any chance youd write a part 2 in the future? Its absolutely cool if you dont want to but WOW this concept? Solid gold (no pun intended)

I honestly love how people reacted to this story. It was so fun to write and became my most popular story to date. I'm such a sucker for the gods and mortals forbidden romance trope is just chefs kiss. Also, puns are always intended. Hand em over.

This chapter doesn't really involve the reader much, it's kinda more of a filler but I want this story to become a series, which means shorter chapters to separate the story. This is just simply a lore filler chapter.

TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered

Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please.

Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza) Part 2

It was quiet, for once, but there was a soft wind blowing through the curtain-covered doorway that prevented most light from seeping through. Two figures stood in the other corner of the room, staring into the bronze bowl filled with liquid, watching the destruction they caused spread across the village of L'Manberg with darkened eyes narrowed into glares.

"They deserved it..." Philza murmured, likely to Chat who was resting on his striped hat, giving the odd little squawk or chirp every so often. He gave a sigh and popped a piece of bread he tore off into his mouth, giving a small piece to his whining bird afterwards.

"I don't think the mortals have ever seen you lash out at them in person... Usually, you just send your crows to destroy their crops when they annoy you." Techno chuckled softly as he stole a piece of bread from Philza which caused him to give an annoyed scoff and bat his hand away, "But-"

"YOU SUMMONED 10 WITHERS?" A voice boomed through the palace, causing Phil and Techno to sigh and back away from the dish displaying their destruction proudly, "AND KIDNAPPED A MORTAL?"

The blond rubbed his face and Techno took off his glasses while they both walked out the door. Walking down the polished quartz stairs, the two gods quickly came into eye contact with the source of the voice, as well as a few other visitors.

"You're just mad because we tried to kill your high priest, XD, don't pretend like you follow the rules either." Technoblade sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on, "And the mortal is none of your concern. We just did something about it, unlike you fawning from a distance over your mushroom boy."

Despite the cracked mask covering the god's face, everyone around him knew he was irked from Techno's statement. The three other gods behind him snickered into their hands until DreamXD snapped his head in their direction, the thin golden ring halos around his head gained a red glow to them.

The two brunets behind him immediately snapped their mouths shut, but the blond kept snickering away to himself, causing him to get smacked upside the head by one of XD's floating hands before he turned and stormed out the door.

"Ow! Bloody dickhead!" The blond groaned and rubbed the side of his head. The God of Mischief and Determination, Tommyinnit, scowled in the direction of the maniacal god before turning back to his father and Techno, "Ay Dad. Didn't take you for the destructive type! I hear you pulled a Techno and wiped out a village with Withers!"

"Yeah! The explosions shook the entire Upperlands!" Tubbo, the God of Bees and Chess, cheered a bit as his bee buzzed around him, getting specs of pollen in his fluffy hair and decorating his small horns.

Chuckling to himself, the God of Music and Insanity looked behind him at the sandy ground covered in a faint black fog, "XD was throwin' a tantrum. It was honestly the funniest thing to watch," Wilbur adjusted with the guitar on his back, "So where's the little mortal you kidnapped?"

"They're under a sleeping spell at the moment while the amnesia spell sets in," Phil gave each of his sons a brief hug as a greeting, "Then we'll have to alter their memory so they don't panic, but they'll have to stay up here permanently, their mind could be shattered if they do return to the mortal world."

"Shattered?" Tommy repeated, reeling back slightly as Wilbur summoned a leather book in his hand, opening it and scanning through the words, "That sounds like a pretty violent backlash..."

Phil and Techno avoided Wilbur's suspicious glare as subtly as possible, pretending not to see it, "Well... Remember, they're a mortal. Plus the strain of their home being destroyed, getting robbed, then getting kidnapped by gods and being brought to the Upperlands... Who wouldn't go absolutely mental? Then if they see the remains of their old village, it could undo all the magic that was placed upon them."

"Makes sense to me!" Tubbo chirped, his small goat ears wiggling as he held Chat in his hands, "Can we at least see them now and visit them when they wake up?"

Techno tensed up a bit but realized quickly that two of the three of the gods visiting them were too young to consider dating, and the third one was married to a human that he was trying to turn into a merling. "I... Suppose so. Just don't be too loud or the spell will break."

Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically, but the feathers behind his ears ruffled slightly to give away his excitement. Although, he was much better at hiding it than Chat, Tubbo's bee TC (Twitch Chat if you're wondering), and Tubbo, despite the fact that Chat actively visited (Y/n). Wilbur didn't seem to care much, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Or that was his insanity kicking in.

The avian nodded and began leading his biological and adopted sons through Techno's palace, Chat chirping away in his mind. 'Gods, that bird doesn't shut up...' Phil rolled his eyes up to the sky for a moment before smiling a bit to himself, 'Better than everything being dead silent I suppose...'

"In here. Now shut up. The spell won't work twice in a row." Techno hissed quietly before moving aside the crimson satin curtains to allow his old friend's sons into his rarely touched bedroom. The quartz room was kept dark via similarly coloured curtains blocking the majority of the light from coming into the room, while still allowing enough so they could see. A canopy bed stood proudly in the center of the room with golden posts and pure white chiffon silk curtains swaying lightly with the blowing winds.

Phil and Techno couldn't help but smile softly to themselves at the thought of seeing you again, even if you were asleep and, at the moment, void of memories and personality. Techno led the way inside and gently hooked his fingers around the fabric and moved it aside to let the younger gods see the mortal they had saved from the cruelties of the Earth.

The three gods carefully took their time studying you, trying to find what had their father and the anarchist totally entranced. Their eyes carefully took the time to study your soft (h/l) (h/c) hair, your beautiful (s/t) skin, and your silk robes that were ombre from red to white, accented with the very golden accessories that the high priest had tried to steal. (They used magic to put you in the new outfit. They're yanderes not creeps.)

"Oh... They truly are stunning. Are you sure they're a mortal?" Tubbo frowned for a moment, straightening up and pulling Chat away from your motionless figure so the crow would stop trying to peck at your jewellery.

"What do you mean?" Wilbur frowned at the younger god, his adopted brother. This had also caught the attention of the other gods

"I mean... Don't think they're a mortal, or at least they weren't born one..."

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #techno dream smp #mcyt au #dsmp #c!wilbur #dream smp wilbur #wilbur soot #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #dream smp tommy #tommyinnit #tubbo #c!tubbo #dream smp tubbo

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

#headcanonween #jungkook #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook bts #bts jungkook #Jungkook 2020 #emo! jungkook #boyfriend! jungkook #Jungkook fics #Jungkook fic recs #jungkook cute #Jungkook hot #tattoos jungkook #Jungkook tattoos #fluff #bts #bts fluff #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts fic recs

[twistedtummies2]

Adeuce, You Say!

Yeah, I couldn’t come up with a good title for this one, sorry. XD This is a birthday gift for a dear friend of mine, @belliesandburps. He mentioned he wanted to see Ace Trappola drinking a LOT of soda. I couldn’t think of a concept that featured JUST Ace, so I decided to throw Deuce Spade in for good measure. Hopefully he won’t mind this. ;) Happy Birthday, BNB! You’re one of the best friends a twisted whacko like myself could ever ask for. <3

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe you talked me into this…” “Aww, come on, don’t be a spoilsport!” You couldn’t help but blush a bit...and cursed yourself for doing so. The “fun” hadn’t even begun, and already you could feel your heartbeat with anticipation. “Don’t worry, Deuce,” you muttered. “The feeling is mutual, on my end…” Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade turned to look at you. The three of you were gathered in Ace’s room in Heartslabyul; you had cleared a table he kept in the room - which was designed to resemble a carefully-arranged house of cards - and now both he and Deuce sat at opposite ends of the short furnishing. On the floor directly in front of the table one of them had placed a recycling bin - litter was not allowed, per the Rules of the Queen of Hearts - and on the table itself were four large boxes. Two of the boxes, which sat nearest Deuce, contained twelve packs of Vanilla Cola. In contrast, the two boxes closest to Ace contained Cherry Cola. Ace smirked, tossing some of his carrot-colored hair out of his face, and winked his tattooed eye, the crimson heart shape around it flickering as his one visible cherry-toned iris twinkled with mischief-making glee. “Well, we all know why YOU agreed to this,” he teased. “C’mon, you can’t deny you’re a little...EXCITED, huh, Prefect?” “I hate you,” you droned, grumbling as you squirmed where you stood. “I hate you so much…” “Is this the reason you decided to have this contest?” frowned Deuce, his own turquoise eyes narrowing, the black spade tattoo over one of them crinkling slightly behind his dark blue bangs. “To make the Prefect a blushing mess? I think you could have waited till the next lunch hour for that.” “You are NOT helping,” you grumped, glaring at Deuce half-heartedly.

Neither of the Heartslabyul duo seemed to notice. Ace snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, that’s just a nice bonus,” he chuckled, and grinned roguishly. “Cater just told me this kinda thing is trending right now. I figure, with my talents, I’ve got a shot at getting some preeeetty good views. That’s why I asked the Prefect to film this.” He jabbed his thumb towards you; you fiddled with the cell phone in your hands, biting your lip and saying nothing. “And why choose ME to be your competitor in this?” Deuce droned. “Does humiliating me just make you feel better about yourself?” “It does. Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent,” grinned Ace. Deuce glared. He looked to the sodas, then back at Ace...then huffed and turned away. “No,” he stated. “I’m not doing it.” “Awww, come on, you’re already here!” Ace whined. “This won’t take long!” “He does have a point,” you spoke up. “Speaking with as little obvious bias as possible…” “I already mistrust your judgment,” Deuce muttered, while Ace snickered. “...You agreed to this and came here, so you might as well see it through to the end.” “And I don’t expect you to go easy on me!” snapped Ace, lifting a finger rather dramatically. “I want a challenge!” “Then you should have asked somebody else!” Deuce exclaimed. “Why not try someone from Savanaclaw, or one of the Leech Twins?” “I said I wanted a challenge, not a suicide mission,” Ace said, bluntly. You couldn’t repress a snort of laughter. You apologized under your breath as both frowned at you before looking back to each other. “Forget it,” Deuce said firmly. “I’m not engaging in something as infantile as a soda-drinking-” “Soda-CHUGGING, Spade. Get with the times, Mr. Delinquent.” Deuce glared violently. Ace lifted his hands and mouthed a quick apology. Deuce calmed down...but only VERY slightly. “...Soda...Chugging...Contest,” Deuce corrected, grinding his teeth and turning faintly red in the face at Ace’s taunt. “I’m not doing it for you, and you can’t make me.” Ace narrowed his eyes, frowning, looking Deuce up and down for a moment...then grinned anew. “Okay,” he said, slyly. “Then don’t do it for me. There’s other reasons to try.” Deuce looked suspicious and skeptical at the same time. “Such as?” Ace responded by opening one of his cases of cherry cola and pulling a single can free. He waggled it in one hand indicatively, raising an eyebrow in Deuce’s direction. Before either yourself or Deuce could comment on the actions and ask what he was doing - he popped the can open. It hissed and crackled as the pressure was released...then, without a hint of hesitation, he tipped his head back and quickly slugged down the contents of the first can. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… You felt those familiar stirrings start within you, as your eyes immediately zeroed in on Ace’s strong but slender throat. You watched his Adam’s Apple bounce like a rubber ball with each gulp of soda. Internally, you couldn’t help but put yourself in the drink’s place...cascading down his throat, rushing down his gullet towards the ever-hungry black hole that was his belly… You shivered at the same time he finished the can. He crushed it in one hand with relish and pitched it into the recycling bin. It clattered loudly, making Deuce jump slightly. He opened his mouth to question what all this was about, and perhaps to protest again… ...And looked up just in time to find Ace leaning over the table, mouth wide open...burping four words out. Right in his face. “YYYOOOUUU...AAAARRRRE...AAAAAA...CHIIIIIC-KEEEENNNN-UUUUURRRRRP!” Ace smirked smugly, eyes half lidded as he rested his chin in one hand and licked his lips, eyeing Deuce expectantly. Deuce blinked fast several times, his expression stunned, face speckled with spittle after the messy, wet blast...then glared. “Alright, Trappola,” he almost growled. “Now…” He opened a box. “...You’re…” He pulled out a can of his own. “...On.” SNAP-CRACKLE-POP. The first can of vanilla cola was opened, and Deuce began to chug it down with relish. Ace laughed, and quickly pulled out a second can of his own. “I knew it would work!” he sang out, and popped his own can open, and began to drink down some more cherry cola as fast as he could, eager to catch up with Deuce. You sighed; you were a captive audience to this display. Not that you minded too much, you had to admit...especially given your current position. You decided to sit down rather than stand, but there was no third chair for you to use...so you simply crossed your legs and sat on the floor. This inevitably meant looking up at the pair, and some mean, self-shaming fraction of your submissive little brain couldn’t help but mock you as you watched Deuce hurl his first can into the recycling bin carelessly before moving onto another...imagining your own self being treated with the same nonchalance. Just fuel for a greater being. “I hate my life,” you muttered to yourself. “What - HIC-URP! - what was that?” Ace chirruped. “Never mind. Keep going. First to finish all 24 cans wins.” Keep going the pair did. Gulping and slurping echoed out almost non-stop, interrupted only briefly by the crushing of cans and the sound of them falling into the bin. GLUG-CRUNCH! GULP-SCRUNCH! GOLLOP-GRUNCH! Ace frowned as he hurriedly downed his sodas; his goading of Deuce had seemingly backfired, for Spade had quickly taken a surprising lead. He was only a can ahead of Ace, but one can was all it would take. He kept glancing to Deuce to gauge his progress, eyes burning hotly like crimson flames as he gulped down soda pop after soda pop. Deuce, for his part, remained focused on the sodas themselves, chugging them down as rapidly as he could; you could actually hear the fizzing and sizzling of the carbonation as it raced down their gullets at record-breaking speed. Naturally, all that air being ingested meant pockets of gas were building up inside of both students’ guts. Ace had no problem letting those pockets burst. “BRRRRAAAAAAP! Oof...oh - UUUURRRRRRP! Ha Ha...that was a good one wasn’t it...mph...PRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEFFFFEEEEEECT?” You had to fight yourself NOT to squeak, as Ace laughed and slugged down more and more soda, burping and belching like a crass pig between every single can, clearly delighting in showing off. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t going to get him the lead back...but you were a little too loopy from the sickly-sweet smell of soda-scented stomach gas filling the air to care much. Deuce, meanwhile, handled things differently. He didn’t burp at all. Honestly, that was actually getting you even more excited; by now, he had finished six cans and was working on a seventh. (Ace was just starting his sixth can, in contrast.) The effect of so much bubbling cola pooling in his belly was starting to become obvious; he looked slightly green as his stomach audibly ROARED with all the gas building up inside...and he breathed heavily, panting almost like a huge dog in-between each can, starting with the fourth. Something had to give, and it wouldn’t be long till something did. Sure enough, after polishing off his eighth can, Deuce couldn’t hold it all in anymore. His stomach let out a lurching GRORBLE noise, and he grunted...before his eyes widened and his cheeks ballooned. He lifted a fist in a vain attempt to stifled the blast...but it was no good. His lips flapped as it bellowed forth with tinnitus-inducing volume. “GUUUUUYYYYYUUUUUHHHHHUUUUURRRRRLLLLLUUUUURRRRRP!” The explosive burp seemed to rock the room. Ace yelped, jumping in his seat just as he had finished his seventh can. He blinked with some alarm as Deuce covered his mouth. Spade hiccuped sharply and blinked, flushing red in the face as his other hand clutched his belly. The look of ripe embarrassment on his face was priceless, and you found yourself starting to giggle. “Good one,” you complimented, with a blush of your own. Deuce glared at you reproachfully. Ace began to laugh, slapping his knee. “HA HA HA HA! Wow, you’ve been holding back on us!” he cackled. “I bet even the lion would have a hard time matching that ‘roar,’ ha!” “Sh-sh-shut up!” Deuce stuttered, turning redder than ever. Ace was still sniggering as he grabbed his next can of cola and quickly swallowed it down. Deuce paused for just a few moments more, seemingly to catch his breath after that enormous eructation, but soon got back to drinking. Now the two were neck and neck. And as they drew nearer and nearer to the end of their first boxes, you realized that gas was not the only thing starting to swell and fester inside their guts. Each of the two were dressed in their Heartslabyul dorm outfits: black and white jackets lined with gold, white undershirts under color-coordinated vests - Ace wore strawberry red, and Deuce wore jet black. As they swallowed up more and more of the soft drinks, you could hear the fabric and buttons creak. The fluid and the carbonation it carried were causing both of their bellies to start to swell and stretch, growing rounder and more bloated...you bit your lip and fidgeted in place. It was so hard to stay focused on the video you were taking when real life was right before you...and ooooohhhhhh, how appealing it looked… Speaking of the video, you checked the time...and couldn’t help but whistle, impressed. “You guys work faster than I realized,” you said, with a slightly nervous chuckle. Deuce smiled almost sheepishly. Ace beamed proudly. Both cracked another can open at the exact same time. Nine cans, ten cans, eleven cans...it was no time at all before each reached the last can in their first twelve packs. You could actually hear their stomachs: their bowels growled and their guts “gulunked” as all that thick, fizzy, sugary stuff bubbled inside of them like a cauldron full of good ol’ fashioned witch’s brew. The difference was you didn’t have to worry about Mr. Crewel yapping at you about how you forgot a tablespoon of some ingredient...or the room exploding into frog zombies as a result… ...Potions class was hard… “BEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLLLLCH!” Two blasts of gas - simultaneously synchronized - sonorously blew forth, sounding out like a foghorn and causing the table legs to rattle. You blushed bright red as the abrasive sound caught your attention, and you found yourself looking up at the pair as they paused in their drinking. They had each polished off their first twelve pack, and were lounging back in their seats. Deuce grunted as he began to fiddle with the buttons of his vest, grumbling under his breath about how they had “shrunk in the wash” recently… ...Bless his heart… Ace, meanwhile, let out another crass, shameless belch out of the corner of his mouth - “BRRRRAAAACK!” - and sighed as he drummed his fingers over his swollen stomach. He winced with discomfort at the tightness of his clothes on his belly...but made no move to loosen anything. Instead he looked down at you...and smirked cockily, holding his head high. “Heh heh...havin’ fun down there? Enjoying the show?” he teased. “You know, if Riddle found you both like this, he’d have you both beheaded,” you answered. Deuce froze. Ace gulped nervously. “You wouldn’t,” both said at once. “If Ace here doesn’t stop kink-teasing me, I might,” you smiled oh-so-innocently. Deuce sighed with relief; that was a sure sign to him you weren’t serious. Ace, meanwhile, frowned and grumbled, looking off to the side with a pout. “If I was that lion, you’d be melting like ice cream,” he grumbled. You were about to respond to that when suddenly, Deuce let out a deep sound - somehow groaning and burping at the same time. “Grrrrooooouuuurrrrrrllllllph...mmmaaahhh…” You almost swore your heart skipped a beat as you looked towards him. He had undone his vest and his trouser buttons, and his eyes were fluttering. From under his plain white undershirt, his pale-skinned belly spilled into his lap, his shallow navel winking into view as it sloshed into place, freed of most restraints and sloshing full of soda. “Ohhhh...that feels so much better,” he sighed out...then blinked...and blushed bright red as he realized both you and Ace were staring at him. “Er...uh...I just...um…” “Well,” smirked Ace. “So much for the stuffed shirt Honors Student, huh?” ‘I-I am not a stuffed shirt!” exclaimed Deuce. “Nope. Just a very stuffed Spade,” you couldn’t help but quip. Deuce gave you a look that was best described as “Et tu, Prefect?” Ace cackled; his gut sloshed and bounced with his mirth. Then, a lightbulb seemed to go over his head, and he began to fiddle with his own buttons… GUBLORSH. “BRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOORRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIP! Whew...MAN, that feels good…” You were internally squeeing, and biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood (almost) as you saw Ace’s belly spill into his lap. He sighed, eyes fluttering with relief...then gave a grin to Deuce, who was staring as if he didn’t know how to react. “There. Now we’re even,” Ace sing-songed. Deuce looked somewhat dubious. “Is that why you did that? Or just to try and make the Prefect’s ears steam?” Now it was YOUR turn to give Deuce the “Et tu?” look. Ace shrugged cheerfully, and patted his belly with pride. “Neither! Just wanted to relieve the pressure. But come on, even if I HAD been, would it be right to hide this perfection away?” “Do you ever think of anything but yourself?” “If you looked like this, would you?” Both you and Deuce shared a look as Ace grunted, stifling a burp with one fist before opening up his second twelve pack. “HHHRRRLLLMMMPH...well, twelve more to go...game’s not over yet. Unless you wanna throw in the towel…” “Not a chance!” declared Deuce, opening his next twelve pack up. “I’m getting you back for that belch in the face!” Ace just guffawed as he pulled another can free, popped it open, and began to drink again. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… Deuce was quick to follow suit; once again, they were consuming soda almost at the same speed and time. The first can for each vanished within three seconds flat...then came the second...then the third...and then the fourth… It was as they began to guzzle down the fifth can each - which, really, meant the seventeenth - that you started to notice a few things. The first was that you could hear the soda pooling inside their bodies. You could actually detect the sound of it pouring down their gullets and into their massively swollen tankers, like twin waterfalls dropping down into huge basins. You felt your toes curl in your shoes; the heavy saturation of sugar was making them sound aggressively “grumbly,” gurgling and sloshing with the might of ocean waves. These sounds only seemed further amplified by the second thing you noticed, which was the view. Again, you were seated before the two, looking up at them...which meant those giant bellies looked even bigger and more looming than usual. You were NOT going to give either of them (especially Ace) the satisfaction of acting like a mouse, but it was so hard not to FEEL like one...especially as those massively rounded guts continued to swell and grow as they drank more and more. By the time they had begun their second round, their midsections looked as if each had swallowed a football whole. Now, they were inching out further and further, rolling into their laps and making their shirts ride up further and further, exposing more and more of their soft, tender skin… Forget the soda chugging; the real contest in YOUR mind was which belly you wanted to just bury your face and fingers in the most! You somehow held back, though your fingers twitched around the phone you held. The mixture of the noises and the continuing growth, however, led to a third realization: as the pair plucked up their sixth cans each, you abruptly noticed both were starting to slow down. They were huffing and puffing from the weight in their bellies, and once in a while would flinch as their guts “blurgled” sloppily around their hyper-saccharine contents. “Oooof,” groaned out Ace, as he cracked his can open. “I’m...mph...g-gettin’ kinda heavy…”

“Same - HIC! - ugh, same here,” hiccuped Deuce, and gave a determined glare. “But...b-but I’m not quitting yet.” His words were ruined by his stomach ROARING, and he winced, clutching it with his free hand. Ace just smirked, saying nothing, and the two clinked their cans together as if in toast before downing their sixth drinks. Eighteen down now, and only six more to go. GRORLP...BLLLRRRG...RRRRRAAAAAWWWWWRRRRRLLLLLB…! The sounds of gastric effort resounded through Ace’s room as he and Deuce continued to consume their sodas. Deuce was no longer holding back his gas; Ace certainly hadn’t started doing so. They hiccuped more than once, each letting out a BELCH or BURP freely in-between drinks as they downed their nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first sodas. The recycling bin, by now, was overflowing; you glanced back over your shoulder, grateful you had locked the door. With cans now just dropping to the floor in crumpled heaps, if Riddle Rosehearts were to walk in, it would be off with all your heads, you had no doubt. You were also glad Grim was out practicing his fire magic with Ortho; the loudmouthed imp might have caused problems there. It was a miracle all the gassy eruptions hadn’t roused much attention beyond the room, to begin with. Each of the competitors reached for their twenty-second cans; your eyes widened as you looked towards Deuce. Ace was panting and grunting, but his general motions hadn’t slowed down much. However, Deuce had clearly grown more sluggish: he had a lot more inner capacity than most folks realized (though certainly no match for the likes of some aforementioned students), but he was “out of training” on that front. It was obvious that he hadn’t consumed this much soda at once in a long time (if ever at all), and he looked both tired and a little queasy. He drank more slowly, and it looked like he was trying hard just to get it all down… Ace had pulled ahead at the very last minute: he was now on his twenty-third can of soda, and Deuce had just finished the twenty-second. By the time Deuce had started on his twenty-third, Ace was about to begin his final drink! Deuce let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a whimper - a difficult noise to describe, indicating sickly desperation - and tried to chug down his twenty-third cola as fast as he could… It wasn’t fast enough. Ace cracked open his twenty-fourth can - the last one in his box - and swilled it down so swiftly, you could have sworn he just inhaled it all in a single swallow. “Guh!” gasped out Ace, and hiccuped loudly - he bounced in his seat from the force of it, his gut sloshing like a water balloon against his thighs - and let the can drop from his grip. “Oooooh...ohhhhh, soooooo full...UUUURRRRP! Ah...haaaah, I f-feel like I’m gonna - HIC! - ohhhh, gonna burst…” He shivered; his expression still bore a smile - though it was slightly forced. You couldn’t help but imagine the phrase “hurts so good” applied to how he had to be feeling right about now. Lazily, languidly, he turned his head to look at Deuce as Deuce moaned with discomfort and tossed his second-to-last can of Vanilla Cola aside. “I win,” Ace grinned. Deuce looked at him in a slow, bleary way, as if he were struggling to stay awake. He hiccuped and groaned; his cheeks swelled, as if he were trying to keep his stomach’s contents in place. He didn’t say a word, just glared at Ace, sullenly. “Awww, don’t be...mph...like that,” Ace said, shifting his posture in his seat. “There’s...ngh...still one can left...g-go ahead. Finish it off.” “What’s the point?” huffed Deuce, and clutched his bare belly tightly as it “glarbled” in a nauseous way. “You already...ow...beat me..” “Well,” Ace cooed, “If you don’t think you can handle...just...one...more…” He started to subtly reach towards Deuce’s box. Something seemed to flare up, and Deuce’s aquamarine eyes flashed with newfound fire. He snatched up his final can of cola before Ace could grab hold of it. Ace smirked triumphantly as he watched his friend down the last of the sodas with gusto. “Gets ‘im every time,” he muttered to himself. You just rolled your eyes. Deuce threw his final can aside and groaned louder than before. He hiccuped and once again looked as if he had to struggle to avoid feeling sick as his breath became shallow and shaky. “Grrrrooooohhhhhh...wh-why...why did I...UUUUUURRRRRRK...agree to this…?” “Wimp,” mumbled Ace, only to quiver and let out a raspy breath of his own, as his stomach rumbled so loudly it visibly vibrated. “Hhhnnnaaaaahhhhhh...Chernabog’s horns, I’m - BRRRUUUOOORRRLLLK - soooooo STUFFED now...haven’t - URP - drank that much in my...m-my life…” You quickly turned off the video, stopping the recording...mostly because you did NOT want it to pick the inevitable “meep” sound you made as you openly ogled your two friends and their bloated bodies. It looked as if they had swallowed a couple of prize-worthy pumpkins whole, their sagging, sloshing stomachs as round and heavy as a pair of medicine balls. “I don’t feel so good,” moaned Deuce. “Speak for yourself,” Ace sighed. “This is AMAZING…” “You can say that again,” you gulped to yourself. “Huh?” both slurred out. “Nothing, guys, nothing,” you said, shaking your head. You got up onto your knees and shuffled towards them. Ace gave you a slothful smirk. “Hey, kneeling before my superior awesomeness?” he teased. “I always knew you would.” You gave him a bored look and responded by lifting a hand and jabbing at his stomach. His belly wobbled with a sound like a water bed. He hissed through gritted teeth before belching messily like a total pig. “BLLLLLLUUUUUURRRRRYYYYAAAAAOOOORRRRRRLLLLLLGP! Oof...okay, okay, sorry...ow, that one kinda hurt,” grunted Ace, thumping his chest with a fist and working up a shorter, softer after burp which you could barely hear. Considering how much your ears were ringing, that wasn’t necessarily a bad point. “You won the match,” you said to Ace. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start treating you like some kinda overlord or whatever.” Ace grumbled unintelligibly. Deuce smirked with satisfaction, tainted only slightly by his clearly ill state. It vanished as his belly burbled noisily however, and he had to fight back a whimper. You smiled sympathetically. “Maybe next time you’ll beat him,” you suggested. “You’re insinuating there may BE a next time,” Deuce groused. “Never. Again.” You had a feeling Ace would find a way to push the not-so-stoic student’s buttons in another direction, but you didn’t say so. Instead, you started to stand. “I’ll get you something to settle your stomach,” you offered Deuce. “Uh...c-could you get me somethin’, too?” Ace asked, and let out an embarrassed, soft laugh as he winced courtesy of a loud gut rumble of his own. “I, uh...mph...I think maybe I’m gonna need it sooner or later...ouch…” You rolled your eyes, but said you would, and started to stand up, patting your knees… ...Only to freeze up short as, suddenly, Deuce grabbed hold of your arm. “Wait...um...maybe you...don’t have to go anywhere?” he suggested. You blinked at him, confused, and cocked your head to one side questioningly. Deuce bit his lip...took a breath...and then tried to elaborate. “You, uh...we both know you have those… ‘Magic Fingers’ of yours, so...maybe...maybe a little bit of that m-might help?” You blinked again, more slowly than before, trying to process what Deuce was asking. “...Are you saying you...want a...a belly rub?” you checked, cautiously. “Only if you don’t mind!” Deuce insisted. “Heeeey, you can’t hog the belly rubs!” Ace cried out. “Besides, we all know mine is a lot softer and smoother than yours!” “Is not.” “Is too!” “Is not.” “Is too!” “Is...this REALLY an argument we’re having?” “Yep. Seems that way.” You were blushing too much to remember how to laugh. “I mean...if you’re...SURE you want it,” you said, in a quiet, quavering voice. Deuce nodded, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Ace grinned and nodded as well, more enthusiastically. You took a deep breath to steady yourself - it was hard to believe you were this lucky - and directed the pair to move closer together. They did, pulling their chairs forward and sideways...and you scurried between them, biting your lip as you looked between their twin bellies, almost identical in shape, size, and apparent texture. Then...unable to repress a little happy shiver of your own...you placed one hand on each of their stomachs, and began to work them over. Your fingers kneaded into the flesh, feeling the soft, supple surface of each titanic tummy. You trailed your fingertips over the plumpened sides and across the curve of their silky-smooth underbellies. You patted them, making both guts bounce and jiggle, and even drew figure-eights around their navel areas. Both of your friends sighed deeply and all but melted at your touch, their arms going limp, heads lolling back, jaws agape as they savored the sensations. “Oohhhhh...oh, no wonder you like doing this,” Ace drawled out. “This is...mmmm, this is AMAZING…” “That’s...ahhhh...mmmmm, that’s soothing,” Deuce crooned. “Thank you, Prefect…” “My pleasure, guys,” you blushed, giving their guts a couple of smacks. “My pleasure.” The pair just grinned and made happy humming sounds as they were pampered and spoiled. You couldn’t help but smile wider as you gave their greedy guts a couple of jiggles, hearing the thick soda-fueled stew slosh and splash and swirl about inside their bodies, so close to you… You were unaware of the fact that, as you worked on both bellies, the two opened one eye each, and looked to each other. Ace grinned wickedly...and Deuce smirked with faint impishness as well… ...And then… WHURLMPH. You let out a muffled yelp as, without warning, the pair shifted their postures...and now, both bellies were smushing agaisnt you, the warm curves of each swollen stomach heating up your already nearly-steaming cheeks. You blinked up shyly as you pushed against both guts to try and find some wiggle room...and your friends smiled down at you with almost identical expressions of mischievous affection. “Beter enjoy it while you can,” whispered Deuce. “Yeah,” chuckled Ace, and winked. “It’ll only be a week till we have our eating contest!” “Eating contest?” Deuce scowled. “Who said anything about that?” “Well...if you don’t think you have a chance at winning…” “I can eat you under a table any day!” “I dare you to prove it!” You sighed and shook your head, the soft flesh sliding across your own as you kneaded and caressed the bellies of your best friends. “Friends with benefits,” you were discovering, was a phrase with more than one definition… ...You hoped their argument wouldn’t go too quickly, though...right now, there was nowhere else you wanted to be, as you nuzzled against Ace’s stomach and patted Deuce’s with a smile. One of these days, you figured, you’d need to see a psychiatrist. But it was not this day.

The End

#disney #twisted wonderland #fanfic #kink fic #stuffing #soda chugging #soda drinking contest #ace trappola #ace #deuce #deuce spade #heartslabyul #card guards #birthday gift #belliesandburps

[whumping-every-day]

(Insert arrow here) for Callum Ask Ash if he wants a hug/headpat/physical affection of any kind, if he says yes then give him affection. Vamp bapy has been through enough and I want him and Callum happy even if Callum is awkward about it.

Thank you, Anon! I sat down with this intending to write some fluff, and... well. I don’t know what i fucking expected. xD Please enjoy, Nonnie! 

CW’s: Aftermath of torture and references to said torture, some dehumanization, reluctant/clinical/sorta creepy caretaker, comfort, alternating POV, food mention, blanket warning for Ash’s fucky headspace. 

-

Callum squints at the order. He doesn’t mind offering the vampire an affectionate touch here and there, of course; but the undeniable power dynamic has always made him hesitate. It’s the way Ash watches him; he’s always a silent shadow at Callum’s side, always so eager to obey him. (Too eager).

It’s the kind of eager that has fear behind it. Eager to please, so Callum won’t starve him; quick to obey, so Callum won’t beat him. Every action is driven by the belief that if he can’t keep Callum happy, Callum will do something horrendous to him. 

He looks at the hunter, sometimes, and Callum almost thinks that he wants to be touched. But then the hunter will clear his throat, or uncross his legs, or move, and the vampire will flinch like he’s been electrocuted, and Callum knows better. 

There’s so much about the time that Ash spent with his captors that Callum doesn’t know. But there’s a lot he can tell from what he’s seen; and the vampire is always so grateful for such small mercies. 

Even the briefest kindness still gives Ash that dazzled, awed look, and every time a little bit more of the dazed, worshipful quality stays. He could ask anything of Ash, anything at all, and the vampire would give it. 

“Hey, kid?” Callum keeps his voice soft, tries with all his might to ease what he knows is an impressive resting glare. Something still clangs in surprise in the other room, and there’s a hurriedly stifled gasp. 

There’s silence, and then the quick pattering of bare feet. Ash appears in the door frame like a phantom; his dark eyes glitter, wary compliance layered over alarm at being summoned. 

“Y-yes, Sir?” It’s soft, and Ash shifts uneasily on the balls of his feet, gaze darting from the floor to Callum’s feet and then back. 

The vampire is always so good; waiting to be fed, waiting for permission to leave his cell, waiting to be told what to do and where to go. Callum still wishes Ash wouldn’t call him Sir. But it seems to bring the vampire some comfort... and it’s better than the first thing Ash had called him. 

“I just wanted to ask you something,” the hunter says carefully, and Ash’s shoulders immediately go tense, distrust plastered all over his face. Shit. “You can say no,” Callum promises; the whites of Ash’s eyes show, like a skittish horse. 

From the vampire’s perspective, the space between it and its master is both too little and too much. The hunter moves with an unassuming grace; it’s easy to forget just how big he is, until he walks through a doorway and nearly grazes the ceiling. He’s seated, at the moment, loose and nonthreatening, and his bulk trapped safely (hah) on the other side of the work bench. 

The vampire’s instincts are still blaring a red alert. 

“Would you like a hug?” The creature startles, refocuses on Callum’s face with bewilderment. Its gaze drops then, to the hunter’s work-worn hands, his scarred forearms, the size of his biceps. The terror in its eyes has him offering again; “or I could pet your hair. Shh, shh, hey,” he murmurs. “You’re alright, bud. There’s no test here.” It’s in that same patient, soothing tone, so unusual coming out of Callum’s mouth. 

Ash’s heart hardly beats anymore, but even sluggish and undead the creature’s pulse tries to thrum. The question is a trap - there is always a trap. It hasn’t figured out where the pitfalls are, yet. And every hunter has traps to be tripped, it’s only a matter of stumbling onto them. 

“I’ll tell you what.” Callum speaks to break up the spiral he can see unfolding behind Ash’s eyes. The vampire’s gaze snaps to him, and Callum gives it a light smile and wiggles his fingers. “I’m halfway through this project. Just oiling Hugo’s gears, here.” 

The vampire’s gaze slips to the workbench, where the mechanical crow is perched. One of its wings has been removed, and Ash can see the moving gears beneath, like muscle and nerves. Hugo turns his head to the side and eyes the vampire with one beedy black eye. 

“It won’t even be another ten minutes.” The hunter speaks casually, but the vampire still shrinks under his attention. “You’ve been working hard. I’m very pleased,” he adds. “So if you’d like, you can come sit with me while I finish this. Okay? And if that means some head pats, well, that’s up to you.”  

Up to you. 

The vampire isn’t used to being a you, yet. It doesn’t know what to do with this lack of boundaries, and every step it takes feels like navigating a rigged obstacle course while blindfolded... but it knows from experience that when Callum tells it to choose something, it will have to choose. 

The vampire briefly debates the merits of fleeing back into the other room. Callum might let it go, it thinks... the hunter’s punishments have been unbelievably lax so far. He lets it sleep, lets it cower away when it’s frightened, doesn’t punish it for flinching or crying. 

It doesn’t run. 

The hunter waits patiently while the vampire stands there chewing on its bottom lip, caught between indecision and fear. If it goes closer, the hunter can grab it, hurt it...

...

But also, if it goes closer, the man can pet it. The thought crosses its mind, unbidden, that those hands are big but they’d also be warm.

There’s suspicion and something else warring behind Ash’s eyes as the vampire takes a halting step forward. It waits for a split second, for the other shoe to drop, for the hunter to spring up out of his seat and shout gotcha. 

It doesn’t happen. 

Ash - and that is something else the vampire has to be grateful for, its name. Ash inches into the hunter’s space, and it doesn’t dare take too long, lest the man lose his patience. It’s not like this is the first time it’s been close to the man - the hunter had carried it in the beginning, every day, from its cell to the lab, and then back. But this is the first time the hunter has summoned it like this, no tests to perform, no wounds to tend. 

When it stops, shoulders hunched in Callum’s shadow, there is no retribution, and no sudden, violent outburst. The hunter just nods, and he puts one of those massive hands in his lap casually, picks up the oil-stained rag with the other. 

“This won’t take long,” he says again, still soft, still careful. The vampire watches him for a moment, and Callum can feel him assessing the situation, trying to figure out how it might end. “I’d say you’ve earned a break, little one,” he murmurs, and each word is laid with intent. 

He’s pieced together by now that Ash was made to earn a lot of things, before. Blood, shelter, mercy, a slightly less heinous method of torture. The language of rewards and punishments isn’t something Callum likes to employ... but from the corner of his eye, he sees the vampire hesitate, and then loosen, like magic. 

Ash doesn’t speak again, but some of the tension has eased. Framing this as a reward had worked, which... Huh. Callum turns that over in his head for a moment. He also knows that the peace is fragile; he can’t pay the vampire any undue attention, or he’ll spook it. 

To all outward appearances, Callum is exceedingly casual, and entirely relaxed. He’s careful as he goes back to work one-handed, and he leaves the other hand in his lap, open, fingers loose. There’s a second stool beside his; Callum knows better by now than to try and force the vampire into it. 

Instead he feels the air shift as Ash sinks slowly to his knees, folding his hands in his lap. It puts the vampire at just lap height, and Callum carefully doesn’t look down as he goes back to removing, cleaning and then reinstalling Hugo’s gears. 

From where the vampire is kneeling, its palms prick with sweat. It has been summoned here and told to take a break - so of course its heart is in its throat waiting. But when it risks the tiniest glance upward, minutes after kneeling, the hunter seems to be genuinely invested in his work. 

This hunter is so smart, the creature thinks. He’s always working on something; diagrams or strange substances and powders, things that click and spark and grind. Callum calls them machines, says that they are new. But to the creature’s eyes, much of it seems like magic. 

It is glad to be allowed to sit there; Callum has been generous to give it tasks. It can be useful this way, counting arrowheads or polishing leather, or scrubbing the pots clean. It is a far kinder use than the others had for it. 

Instinct tells the creature that it’s in danger; but it squeezes its eyes shut and breathes, dredges up the hunter’s words from memory. You’ve been working hard, and I’m very pleased. 

Pleased. With it. Assuming that the human does not jest, Ash can only marvel. 

But then, the vampire reasons, if the man was displeased, surely he would have made it known by now. Surely he would correct its behavior, and not simply allow it to continue in its filthy, rotten ways. 

Something moves in the corner of its vision, and the vampire tenses - but it’s only the hunter’s hand, draped loosely again his thigh so his fingers hang free. 

Headpats are up to you, he’d said. 

His hand is close, but it’s not reaching, not tugging or yanking or grabbing. Ash casts another glance upwards, and Callum is busy, not paying any attention. Even just the simple act of being ignored is comforting - the hunter can’t be angry with it if he’s not thinking about it. 

It takes some time, but the vampire slowly, slowly starts to lean. It’s stupid, and its heart is in its throat - this is a test and it is failing, it’s failing terribly. But somehow, irrationally (desperately) the creature wants what has been offered. 

This is what the man wants. The vampire tells itself that, over and over again, to stifle its own hesitation. If it does this, it’ll be good. If it does this, it will stave off the hunter’s wrath for just a little longer. 

Callum’s leg is thick and warm when Ash finally leans into it. The creature is shivering, left-over vestiges of adrenaline rattling through its system at the touch. It holds its breath as it settles; it’s barely there, resting a fraction of its weight as it braces for the anger and yelling. 

Instead, there’s nothing. Ash’s fingernails dig furrows into his palms with how tightly he clenches them, but it’s like the hunter doesn’t even feel him. 

The ground is cold, but the hunter is warm, and it seeps through the fabric of Ash’s shirt and sinks into his side. The heat is soothing, and the vampire bites down a soft, high sound as it slumps a little further. It waits, at each stage, for the human’s reaction, and each time there isn’t one. 

Ten minutes later, Ash is curled up at Callum’s feet, resting his temple against the of the hunter’s knee. Its head is almost in his lap, and this time it barely flinches when something settles on its hair. 

The vampire peels its eyes open, and the hunter has a hand on top of its head. Ash checks again, and Callum is still occupied with his task, like the creature sitting at his feet isn’t a dangerous, blood-sucking leech. 

Then that hand moves, slow and careful; the first proper stroke makes goosebumps break out all along Ash’s arms and shoulders. He whines softly, but he quickly swallows it down; Callum’s hand pauses, and Ash’s lungs don’t work until it starts to move again. 

There has always been something to be longed for in the grace of human warmth. Eventually, the vampire even dares to nuzzle against Callum’s knee, timid and soft. The hunter huffs quietly, and his touch drifts to the back of the creature’s neck, scritching gently at its nape. 

This is the reward, the vampire thinks - or hopes. Not a break from its tasks, it’s been given a multitude of those already, far in excess. No, the reward is the touch, a mercy given without being earned or bled for. 

Its hair is still a mess, frazzled and wild - and longer, now, than it had been before. Calloused fingers pet over the brown curls, then dig deeper, nails scraping ever so lightly against its scalp. The vampire shudders in pleasure at that, and its eyes flutter halfway, murring needy in the back of its throat. 

Callum drags out the simple task of cleaning Hugo’s gears for another thirty minutes. By the time he’s finished, the crow’s gears shine like new, and Ash is purring, slumped bodily against Callum’s legs and head fully in the hunter’s lap. Callum watches him for a moment, dark lashes against soft cheeks, and feels something fierce and protective stir in his chest. 

For Ash, time has started to blur again. The creature knows what it feels like to have the passage of day and night lose their meaning, but this is different. This is pure bliss, a thrill that starts at the back of its spine and trickles in shivers down its back. 

It doesn’t know what it did to be worthy of such a kindness. (something, it must have done something.) But it hopes, this time, that if it keeps trying to be good, if it’s small and silent and sweet enough... maybe it can earn this sort of reward again. 

[END]

Tagging the vampire gang this time :3    @wildfaewhump @pepperonyscience @robinsdoghouseofwhump @angelsuperwholock @pennsss @silver-sparrow-462 @silverinkgoldenquill @kestrelspaverius @learningtowhump @shameless-whumper @latenightcupsofcoffee @thebluejayswhump  @what-huh-imconfused @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic  @pink-and-purple-flowers @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whump-em  @umniyah-s  @adventuresofacreesty @scarheart  @kyra-plays @lionhxartxd-blog @blue-flare10 @whumpywhumper @doityourselfbombs  @pastry-case @maybeawhumpblog @httyd-chocolate  @maqcyloup @yyyee-haw @to-hurt-and-comfort @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @manip-loki @dungeons-and-dragons-and-whump @ariirenn @poetofswords86 @whumpity--whump--whump @swagjudgehandsdragon @machimaquiaveli @theladyoffangorn @oracle-of-maybe @cuddlycryptid @the-potato-beeper @insanitycheshire @slam-whump @sweeterthanadonut @ffaerie-dustt @whump-in-the-night @elfo8792 @kinda-bad-poet @crackedskel @deluxewhump @this-zombie-will-eat-you @a-moment-to-write @stoic-whumpee @paradigmparadoxical @burtlederp @whump-with-wren @whimperwoods @winged-ace-whump @whump-only @sola-whumping @theoretical-toes @servenas-inner-fangirl  @hurtmebeautifully @shaegal @crystalrainwing

#whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #creature whump #comfort #reluctant caretaker #aftermath of torture #fear #past torture #conditioned whumpee #original content #mine

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Love Breeds Love Isendain Edition

So, I have a porny universe called Love Breeds Love where the premise is that settlements across the Northern Kingdoms are being founded with the intent to save the elven race from extinction.

Now, for Iorveth and Roche, we discover that the settlement they're living in (Aiseirigh meaning rebirth/resurrection) is dedicated to doing this through accepting half-elves and creating more half-elves, because humans are very good at breeding. This means adjusting their culture as they share it, because half-elves and humans have their own experiences they're bringing to the settlement.

For some elves, that is simply not acceptable. They don't want human blood to taint their 'purity'. So they commit to working with elven couples to make babies. Their birth rate is much lower, but they argue that their product is better. (For the record: when you hear this kind of rhetoric, run. It's VERY eugenicist and suuuuuper racist).

Isengrim and Eldain both find themselves at one of the latter settlements (which I haven't named yet oops). They don't arrive together, though. In fact, they hadn't expected to see each other at all, though it's nice to see that rumors of each other's deaths were greatly exaggerated.

Because of the way I've made elven biology work, it's really important for the volunteers at this pure elven settlement choose a partner and really get to know them, get comfortable with them. This increases their chances of conception actually happening. I haven't actually decided if only one or both get pregnant, but they did decide to have some 'practice sex', to ensure their comfort. XD

I'll stick a bit of the WiP under a cut, but the really fun thing about this 'verse (aside from literally just being an excuse for breeding kink) is that the two settlements have to actually MEET at some point. At which point, rorveth and isendain discover each other and have a variety of reactions.

'cause see, Eldain doesn't like humans and he doesn't trust humans. He's made that mistake before and he refuses to do it again. So he is perfectly happy with the idea of living amongst elves and never having contact with a filthy human again.

But life isn't that easy and Isengrim and Iorveth are still old friends, though it's definitely awkward at first. But over time, Roche becomes the first human that Eldain actually feels comfortable around and they become bros. They most definitely bond over being feral raccoon disasters while their partners are fancy shmancy proper and polished types lmao. Oh, also, Iorveth and Eldain may both be musicians, but they despise each other's genres XD

I mentioned that this universe was just an excuse to write porn, right? So I've got a whole arc planned for isendain to meet up and bond with rorveth, but first, they all gotta get bred, 'cause that's the premise of the 'vese lmao. So this first isendain fic is the set up - establishing the settlement, getting them together, going through the breeding ceremony, etc. The sex is unfortunately fighting me during the 'practice sex' stage, but eventually, this will be a nice, long smutty piece. For now, though, here's them actually meeting again.

He’d arrived at the settlement alone, responding to a notice on saving the elven race, and he’d been astonished at how many people had actually shown up to do this. Of course, out of the thirty elves that had come to be bred, only a small portion would actually be able to conceive.

Eldain swallowed, wondering if he’d be one. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping that he would or that he wouldn’t, honestly, but hell, he was already here. He couldn’t back out now.

Which meant he had to find himself a partner. The notice had specified that single volunteers were welcome along with couples that were willing to conceive, but the first thing the elf who greeted him when he’d arrived had said was, “pick someone and get to know them. The actual breeding will not begin until this evening, but it’s important that you spend some time with your partner and become comfortable with them.”

Eldain had nodded, aware that feeling safe and comfortable was essential for elves to produce viable eggs and for them to be able to conceive. But he hadn’t realized just how many people there were and how daunting trying to choose one stranger out of two dozen would be.

So when he spotted the scarred man with dark hair that stood about two inches above everyone else, Eldain’s first emotion was relief. In more than one way, because this was someone he actually knew, but also, he’d heard that the other elf was dead. Of course, they’d likely heard the same about him, so Eldain shook himself and strode towards the famed Iron Wolf.

When he got closer, it became apparent that he was not the only one who had recognized Isengrim Faoiltiarna, because several other elves were circled around him, trying to persuade him to pick them.

The feeling in Eldain’s stomach was not jealousy, nor was it disappointment. It wasn’t like Isengrim was likely to choose him amongst all these choices. Hell, when they’d met in the past, he’d gotten the impression that Isengrim tolerated him at best.

Nodding to himself, he spun on his heels to find someone else to partner with when Isengrim apparently spotted him and called his name, a little bit desperately.

He couldn’t exactly walk away now, so Eldain turned back and walked up to Isengrim and his pursuers, forcing a friendly smirk onto his face. “Hey,” he started to say when Isengrim grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close in an overly familiar hug. Before he could say anything, Isengrim murmured in his ear.

“If you pick me, I swear I will owe you a favour of your choosing,” Isengrim’s low voice growled and Eldain shivered, Isengrim’s breath tickling over his exposed skin.

Pick Isengrim? Sure, twist his arm. That had, after all, been his initial intent. But he wasn’t sure why Isengrim was asking when Isengrim was the one with the pick of the place.

“Yeah, all right,” Eldain shrugged, trying to exude casualness. He was obviously just doing this for the favour. No other reason. “Shall we find somewhere to chat, then? Apparently we’re supposed to get to know each other.”

The look of sheer relief on the Iron Wolf’s face was strange to be on the receiving end of. But Isengrim slipped his arm through Eldain’s, immediately pulling them away and guiding the pair towards the garden.

Eldain looked around, mildly impressed. For a new settlement, these organizers were doing a pretty good job and getting it up and running.

Which made sense, given they were hoping that this event would culminate with many pregnant elves.

“So,” Eldain drawled, surprised by how much he liked the feeling of Isengrim’s fingers against the crook of his arm. “Seems like you’re a big hit.”

Isengrim’s nose wrinkled in a strangely adorable expression and Eldain bit his lip against a smile. “Apparently there is potential acclaim in having the Iron Wolf’s child. Even though, as I understand it, the point of this event is not about genetics as much as just…”

“Conception?” Eldain offered, and Isengrim nodded, frowning. “So why choose me? Do I not get the same acclaim?”

Isengrim snorted, “you have your own acclaim. Though, speaking of, I’d heard you were dead?”

“Likewise. It was a close ‘almost’,” Eldain shrugged, trying not to let the memories flood through him. He cleared his throat instead. “And you?”

Isengrim made a face, “believe it or not, I owe my survival to a human.”

“You’re kidding.”

The Iron Wolf shook his head, looking every bit as imposing now standing in an early-stage gardener’s plot as he had commanding Scoia’tael into battle.

Eldain licked his lips. Sure, he may have his own ‘acclaim’ in the form of a brutal reputation that was based mostly on real events, but there would always be something majestic about the Iron Wolf that people like Eldain could never match.

“Well, I doubt either of us want to talk more about that,” he said, jerking his gaze away from Isengrim’s face and continuing their walk through the garden. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” Isengrim shrugged casually, “fighting, assassinating kings, that kind of thing.”

Eldain blinked, gaze landing on Isengrim again. Isengrim had a little smirk on his face, like he was enjoying Eldain’s reaction, but there was no sign that he wasn’t telling the truth.

“Wow, and here I thought I was doing well with my best kill being a duke,” Eldain joked, smiling back at Isengrim.

Isengrim tossed back his head and laughed, deep, rumbling sounds that felt at home settling in Eldain’s chest. Weird.

“What about you?” Isengrim asked after his laughter had passed. “What’s keeping you busy these days?”

“Eh, I’ve been working as a merc,” Eldain said, wondering if Isengrim would judge him. It was always hard to predict with Scoia’tael – some thought fighting for money was horrific and some thought it was sensible. He didn’t know what Isengrim thought.

“Oh? Around Aedirn?”

“All over,” Eldain shrugged. It had taken him about a year to be ready to return to Aedirn after everything with fucking Queen Meve. She was a perfect example of why humans could never be trusted. Ever.

He swallowed hard. “So, what do you think about this event?”

Isengrim huffed a soft laugh. “At my age, I kinda figured my chances of having a child were pretty slim. But…”

“Yeah,” Eldain nodded, understanding the unspoken reason. How could they not, when the very fate of their species lay in peril?

“But you’re pretty young, aren’t you?” Isengrim asked him. “Is this your first time doing this?”

Eldain hummed, pondering exactly how much older Isengrim was. The Iron Wolf had lived pre-humanity, Eldain knew that much. Most of the Scoia’tael commanders had been older elves that had been born before the Conjunction of the Spheres. Eldain had been unusual in gaining his command, but none of the elder elves ever had the balls to take on the Moulderwoods, so it had fallen to Eldain and all the younger elves who had been born there. Not that there were many of them left anymore, not after...

Eldain shook himself. If he kept thinking about his old command and his old home, he was either going to scream or cry, so he very pointedly redirected his thoughts to his companion.

Isengrim looked – pretty great, actually, for someone who was supposed to be dead. But then, Eldain wasn’t entirely sure it was possible for the Iron Wolf to look anything but gorgeous and commanding and in control.

“So, Isengrim,” he enunciated Isengrim’s name clearly and Isengrim cocked an eyebrow, one that was split by the scar that spanned across his nose. It was kind of beautiful. “What do we need to know about each other to be able to comfortably fuck?”

Isengrim choked slightly at him being so blatant about it, but seriously, they were at a breeding event. There was nothing un-crass about this whole thing.

“Well,” Isengrim cleared his throat. “Um, I guess… I have no idea,” he said after a long moment. “Um, maybe preferences, I guess?”

Eldain snorted, “feels like an icebreaker question. ‘Hi, I’m Eldain and I prefer men.’”

“Any man?” Isengrim’s eyebrow arched again. “Or specifically one who can put a brat like you in their place?”

Eldain’s breathing hitched and his exhale was shaky. “That helps,” he managed to say, and Isengrim’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “And what does the Iron Wolf prefer?”

Isengrim’s nose wrinkled again, clearly uncomfortable with his moniker in this context. Eldain made a note of that. “Apparently,” Isengrim said slowly, “my type is bratty musicians.”

Blinking, Eldain took a moment to process that, then grinned widely, bowing and flourishing his hand in front of him. “At your service.”

Isengrim laughed again, shaking his head. “What kind of music do you play, anyway? All the rumors said was ‘former musician’.”

Eldain tsked, “really, Isengrim, don’t you know better than to believe rumors?” Isengrim rolled his eyes and Eldain laughed. “Mostly, I play the lute and the fiddle, though I know several other instruments. I’m a modern musician, none of that classical shit.” He shut his mouth, abruptly realizing that Isengrim had been alive when those ‘classics’ were new, and may have been attached to them.

Fortunately, Isengrim just chuckled. “You’d probably get along terribly with my ex. He’s very much a classicist.”

“Oh?

“Played with symphonies and stuff, way back,” Isengrim said, a soft smile on his face that Eldain knew wasn’t for him.

He cleared his throat, looking away from Isengrim’s face. It wasn’t as if he was in love with Isengrim or anything, but it still hurt a little bit to be reminded that this was all to save their species. Isengrim had chosen him, sure, and that was an honor. But it was nothing more than sex. He needed to remember that.

Swallowing hard, Eldain forced a smile on his face. “Bet I’m a better musician,” he taunted, and Isengrim laughed again.

“You might be,” Isengrim conceded. “Would you play for me?”

Blinking in surprise, Eldain looked back at Isengrim. The smile on his face was different now, not like he was thinking of a past love, but like it was intended for Eldain.

This time, he swallowed down an entirely different emotion. “Yeah,” he managed to say. “Um, lemme–” he cleared his throat again, cursing himself for leaving his lute with his stuff in the room the organizers had given him.

Isengrim licked his lips and suggested, “I could come with you.”

“Uh, sure,” Eldain shrugged, wondering why he felt like a teenager bringing a boy home for the first time.

Isengrim’s smile widened, and he stepped up to curl his hand around Eldain’s elbow again. Eldain bit his lip against his own smile, leading them towards the rooms for volunteers.

#isendain #isengrim x eldain #past isengrim x iorveth #rorveth #mentioned #the witcher #wip wednesday #my fics #love breeds love #i should really be consistent about if each 'verse gets its own tag honestly

[nayialovecat]

Centaurworld / Świat Centaurów

I encourage everyone to watch Centaurworld, because this 10 episodes at the moment show is just amazing. Virtually no flaws, or at least I don't see any. I managed to persuade a few people and they agreed that this show is great, I also see a growing interest on tumblr, which makes me happy - 'cause it means that for the first time I'm one of the first in the fandom, which may turn out to be one of the best fandoms in which I was (sorry, BATIM X'D). But I also heard opinions that this cartoon is "cute and silly" or that it is a "brainwasher" and I have to admit that I was a bit sick of this opinion. 'Cause, no, this animation is not just another silly, colorful fairy tale where you can laugh, listen to songs and forget about. You may disagree with what I'm about to say, but I'd like to share how I view Centaurworld. Sorry for spoilers in advance, I will try to write in such a way as not to spoil the watching pleasure, but some things have to be said and I will not avoid spoilers. Yes, the animation is colourful, it even has rainbows, stars and hearts at almost every step. In a small and little-spoiler shortcut: the animation presents the story of a fighting mare, which suddenly from a world engulfed in war, finds herself in a joyfully colorful and charming world inhabited by sometimes absurdly built and functioning centaurs (coraltur XD). And if it were a story based simply on the fact that a heroine, used to toil and suffering, has to learn to live in completely different conditions, it would actually be a silly cheerful cartoon. But it's not like that. First of all, Centaurworld has a compact, continuous story - it is a road story, during which the heroes experience various adventures, sometimes scary, sometimes funny, and have a chance to evolve and "become best versions of themselves" (we'll come back to that later). Among the ten episodes of the first season, there is one, literally one filler - in my opinion, it's a filler, 'cause if it was cut out of the plot, it would not be bad at all - but even it provides some important information and deepens the lore of the world (we are talking about the episode with the beartaur). So we have a heroine who is reluctant to a new place, a joyful herd of different individuals who helps her on her journey - and a journey through a magical, colorful world. Sounds like a lot of fun. But practically every episode has a deeper bottom, it shows its second face if we take a closer look at it. Already in the first episode, right after the song about how great Centaurworld is, it is suggested that living under a magic dome is a form of fear, fear of reality and real life with all its challenges and dangers. Today my husband drew my attention to one fragment of the song sung by Horse - namely during the Be Best Competition in the city of cattaurs, when Horse performs a wonderful song "Who is she", at one point he stumbles and then stands up and says “this isn't working, this isn't working, no, no". Of course, she might mean that she was pretending to be someone she wasn't - at the contest (she didn't act like the fighter she is). But look attention that in the same episode the cattaurs in the song "We do this every day" sing "But the Great War brought death and cats-tastrohphe - so we had to find a way to heal, cover up the pain, with pageantry and zeal". In other words, they organize the same competition every day to forget about suffering, to drown out their own despair. Horse takes part in the competition, she's suffering after all - but he finds it doesn't work. What if she's talking at this point not about elegant haircuts and wearing high heels, but about the fact that the forgotting method doesn't work? In another episode, we have a depopulated town with only one resident left - the rest of them voluntarily let themselves be devoured so as not to have to suffer. Isn't it scary that in this joyful and magical land of rainbows and love, there are so many people who prefer to die than continue living? Personally, I was very shocked by how many Centaurworld heroes suffer - we

have different faces of depression, all kinds of traumas (some of which have not yet been explained) and even seemingly joyful characters are not like that when we get to know them better, when we delve into their past. The animation is pleasant and joyful, I can recommend it even to small children, with a pure heart - they will be delighted. But adults... adults will catch the other bottom, see the importance of the words spoken by the heroes - practically each of the Shamans tells the main character something that causes shivers (and it's not just the theme of Nowhere King, which in itself is terrifying and at the same time a very tragic figure). Starting with Waterbaby, whose song is a masterpiece when it comes to hidden meaning. I regret that sometimes the Polish translation spoils the double overtone of some phrases - but I assume that it is a matter of not catching them and not knowing the assumptions of the creator of the series by translators. Centaurworld is an exhilarating rainbow animation. But at the same time it is a deep story about a journey, about depression, about suffering, about not accepting yourself and trying to accept yourself as you are. In seemingly silly scenes (like the prison song "Baby's first spell") there are messages that an attentive viewer can easily translate into our reality (eg "Everyone should be proud of their magical bodies!"). Animation offers not only empty entertainment, not only catchy songs and a moment of relaxation in front of the TV - it forces you to reflect. This compels you to notice that locking yourself in a trouble-free bubble is not the solution. It shows that you cannot avoid traumas, run away from the past - but you have to face them. But at the same time... at the same time, that it's not a shame to cry (I love the song "Frustration tears" - and after it, the behavior of the characters is also quite puzzling,they are not surprising that someone may be desperate - they even think it is the norm... puzzling, right?), it's not a shame to admit defeat or ask someone for help. The main character goes through an amazing path, undergoes a certain... transformation (and I'm not talking about the obvious one now), but not only her. I'm curious how many people noticed that a Glendale who has panic attacks almost every now and then in the first episode - by the end they are practically gone? Can anyone see how different Wammawink's behavior is when she wants to go through a rift - from behavior just after leaving the dome? She sings the same words, the same text "think about fragile things" - but how different is its meaning, its overtone. The series is not shallow. It is not just a story. It has a message, even a few messages. It shows how cruel the war is and how deep its stigma is, even long after it ended. It shows how terrifying depression can be and what it entails. That you shouldn't judge others by their appearances. That we shouldn't be ashamed of who we are or run away from the changes that are taking place in us. It teaches you to accept and love yourself - and many people now forget about that. But not only that. I think attentive viewers will notice many, many more of these little details, hidden flavors, little messages - or quite obvious morals than what I wrote here. Watch Centaurworld. This is, in my opinion, the best thing that has happened in a animation recent time.

(polish version below)

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PL version:

Namawiam wszystkich do oglądania Świata Centaurów, bo ta licząca sobie 10 odcinków na ten moment animacja jest po prostu rewelacyjna. Praktycznie bez wad, a przynajmniej ja żadnych nie dostrzegam.

Kilka osób udało mi się namówić i przyznały mi rację, że jest świetna, dostrzegam też rosnące zainteresowanie na tumblrze, co mnie cieszy - bo oznacza, że pierwszy raz jestem jedną z pierwszych w fandomie, który może się okazać jednym z najlepszych fandomów, w jakich byłam (sorry, BATIM X'D).

Ale usłyszałam też opinie, że ta kreskówka jest "urocza i głupiutka" albo, że jest "odmóżdżaczem" i muszę przyznać, że trochę mnie taka opinia ubodła. Bo, nie, ta animacja nie jest wcale kolejną głupawą, kolorową bajeczką, przy której można się pośmiać, posłuchać piosenek i zapomnieć. Możecie się nie zgodzić z tym, co zaraz powiem, ale chciałabym opowiedzieć, jak ja widzę Świat Centaurów.

Z góry przepraszam na spoilery, będę starała się pisać w taki sposób, aby nie popsuć przyjemności z oglądania, ale pewne rzeczy muszą być powiedziane i spoilerów nie uniknę.

Owszem, animacja jest kolorowa, wręcz ma tęcze, gwiazdki i serduszka na niemal każdym kroku. W małym i mało-spoilerowym skrócie: animacja przedstawia historię bojowej klaczy, która nagle ze świata ogarniętego wojną, trafia do radośnie kolorowego i przeuroczego świata zamieszkanego przez niekiedy absurdalnie zbudowane i funkcjonujące centaury (koralowiec XD). I gdyby była to historia opierająca się po prostu na tym, że bohaterka przyzwyczajona do znoju i cierpienia musi nauczyć się żyć w zupełnie innych warunkach, to faktycznie byłaby głupawa wesoła kreskówka. Ale tak nie jest. Przede wszystkim Świat Centaurów ma zwartą, ciągłą fabułę - jest opowieścią drogi, podczas której bohaterowie przeżywają różne przygody, niekiedy straszne, niekiedy zabawne, a także mają szansę ewoluować i "stać się lepszymi wersjami siebie" (do tego jeszcze wrócimy). Wśród dziesięciu odcinków pierwszego sezonu znalazł się jeden, dosłownie jeden filler - w mojej opinii jest to filler, bo gdyby go wyciąć z fabuły, ta by wcale nie ucierpiała - ale nawet on przekazuje pewne istotne informacje i pogłębia lore świata (mówimy o odcinku z niedźwiedziotaurem).

Mamy więc niechętną nowemu miejscu bohaterkę, radosne stadko różnych indywiduów, które jej w podróży pomaga - no i podróż przez magiczny, kolorowy świat. Brzmi jak świetna zabawa. Ale praktycznie każdy odcinek ma głębsze dno, ukazuje swoje drugie oblicze, jeśli mu się bliżej przyjrzymy. Już w pierwszym odcinku, zaraz po piosence o tym, jak wspaniały jest Świat Centaurów, pada sugestia, że życie pod magiczną kopułą jest formą strachu, lęku przed rzeczywistością i prawdziwym życiem razem z jego wszystkimi wyzwaniami i niebezpieczeństwami.

Mój mąż dziś zwrócił mi uwagę na jeden fragment piosenki śpiewanej przez Koń - mianowicie podczas Konkursu na Lepszą Wersję Siebie w mieście kotaurów, kiedy Koń wykonuje wspaniałą piosenkę "Who is she", w pewnym momencie potyka się, po czym wstając stwierdza "to się nie sprawdza, to nie to” („this isn’t working, no, no”). Oczywiście może jej chodzić o fakt, że podczas konkursu udawała osobę, którą nie jest (nie zachowywała się jak wojowniczka, którą jest). Lecz biorąc pod uwagę, że w tym samym odcinku kotaury w piosence „We do this every day” śpiewają „wojna i śmierć odmieniły nas, trzeba było sposób znaleźć, by zamaskować jakoś ból, przypudrować łzy” („But the Great War brought death and cats-tastrohphe - so we had to find a way to heal, cover up the pain, with pageantry and zeal”). Innymi słowy, urządzają dzień w dzień ten sam konkurs, aby zapomnieć o cierpieniu, aby zagłuszyć własną rozpacz. Koń poddaje się zasadom miasta, bierze udział w konkursie, sama również przecież cierpiąc – ale stwierdza, że to nie działa. Co, jeśli mówi w tym momencie nie o eleganckim uczesaniu i chodzeniu w butach na obcasie, ale o fakcie, że metoda zagłuszania się nie sprawdza?

W innym znów epizodzie mamy wyludnione miasteczko, w którym ostał się jeden mieszkaniec – cała reszta bowiem dobrowolnie dała się pożreć, aby wreszcie nie musieć cierpieć. Czy to nie jest przerażające, że w tej radosnej i magicznej krainie tęcz i miłości, jest aż tyle osób wolących umrzeć niż dalej żyć? Mną osobiście bardzo wstrząsnęło, jak wielu bohaterów Świata Centaurów cierpi – mamy tam pokazane różne oblicza depresji, wszelkiego rodzaju traumy (z których część nie została jeszcze wyjaśniona) i nawet pozornie radosne postacie wcale takie nie są, gdy bliżej je poznajemy, gdy zagłębiamy się w ich przeszłość. Animacja jest przyjemna i radosna, z czystym sercem mogę ją polecić nawet małym dzieciom – będą zachwycone. Ale dorośli… dorośli wyłapią to drugie dno, dostrzegą, jak wielką wagę mają słowa wypowiadane przez bohaterów – praktycznie każdy z Szamanów mówi głównej bohaterce coś, co powoduje dreszcze (i nie chodzi tylko o wątek Króla Nicości, który sam w sobie jest przerażającą i zarazem bardzo tragiczną postacią). Poczynając od Wodnej Buby, której piosenka jest majstersztykiem, jeśli chodzi o ukryte znaczenie. Boleję, że miejscami polskie tłumaczenie psuje podwójny wydźwięk niektórych zwrotów – ale zakładam, że to kwestia nie wyłapania ich i nieznajomości założeń twórczyni serialu.

Świat Centaurów jest radosną tęczową animacją. Ale jednocześnie jest głęboką opowieścią o podróży, o depresji, o cierpieniu, o braku akceptacji samego siebie i próbie zaakceptowania się takim, jakim się jest. W pozornie głupawych scenach (jak więzienna piosenka „Baby’s first spell”) mają miejsce przesłania, które uważny widz łatwo przełoży na naszą rzeczywistość (np. „należy być dumnym ze swojego czarodziejskiego ciała” – „Everyone should be proud of their magical bodies!”). Animacja oferuje nie tylko pustą rozrywkę, nie tylko wpadające w ucho piosenki i chwilę relaksu przed telewizorem – zmusza do refleksji. Zmusza to zauważenia, że zamknięcie się w pozbawionej kłopotów bańce nie jest rozwiązaniem. Pokazuje, że nie można unikać traum, uciekać od przeszłości – ale trzeba im stawić czoła. Ale jednocześnie… jednocześnie, że nie jest wstydem płakać (uwielbiam piosenkę „Frustration tears” – i po niej również dosyć zastanawiające jest zachowanie bohaterów, dla których nie jest zaskoczeniem, że ktoś może być zrozpaczony – wręcz wydaje im się to normą… zastanawiające, nieprawdaż?), nie jest wstydem przyznać się do porażki albo poprosić kogoś o pomoc. Główna bohaterka przechodzi niesamowitą drogę, przechodzi pewną… przemianę (i nie mówię teraz o tej oczywistej), ale nie tylko ona. Jestem ciekawa, ile osób zwróciło uwagę na to, że taka Glendale, która w pierwszym odcinku ma napady paniki praktycznie co chwila – pod koniec praktycznie już ich nie ma? Czy ktoś dostrzega, jak odmienne jest zachowanie Wammawink, kiedy chce przejść przez ryft – w stosunku do zachowania, tuż po opuszczeniu kopuły? Śpiewa te same słowa, ten sam tekst „tak delikatni są” („think about fragile things”) – ale jakże inne jest jego znaczenie, jego wydźwięk.

Serial nie jest płytki. Nie jest jedynie opowiastką. Ma przesłanie, a nawet kilka przesłań. Ukazuje, jak okrutna jest wojna i jak głębokie jest jej piętno, nawet długi czas po jej zakończeniu. Pokazuje, jak przerażająca potrafi być depresja i to, co się z nią wiąże. Że nie należy oceniać innych po pozorach. Że nie należy wstydzić się tego, kim się jest, ani uciekać przed zmianami, jakie w nas zachodzą. Uczy akceptacji i miłości do samego siebie – a o tym wiele osób obecnie zapomina. Ale nie tylko to. Sądzę, że uważni widzowie dostrzegą jeszcze wiele, wiele więcej takich drobnych elementów, ukrytych smaczków, drobnych przesłań – lub całkiem oczywistych morałów, niż to, co ja tutaj napisałam.

Oglądajcie Świat Centaurów. To najlepsza moim zdaniem rzecz, jaka przydarzyła się w animacji z ostatnim czasie.

#centaurworld #Świat Centaurów #Nayia Lovecat recommends #spoilers

[dex-xe]

“Can I at least tell my side of the story?” Young mischievous Thomas and Francis crashing his parents’ party?

Thomas & Francis General #40: “Can I at least tell my side of the story?”

(Just fyi,, I haven’t proofread this and it was written at 2am so if it makes no sense I apologise!! XD But yeh,, I enjoyed this one!! Also tiny bit of underage drinking, literally just kids sipping their parents drinks.)

Prompt list

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“Cousin, this is a rather poor idea!” Little 10 year old Thomas said. He shivered in the cold night as he leant back against a tree, trying hard not to dirty the jacket of his best suit.

“Hush, Thomas!’ Francis clambered up over a fallen tree and reached down to take the young Thomas by the wrist and pull him up. “Won’t it be wonderful: To see, once and for all, what these events are like!”

The boys continued their trek through the woods towards Francis’ home, determined in their efforts to explore the adult world.

Francis was meant to be staying the night at the Thorne’s large country home as his parent’s hosted the party of the season at theirs. He’d been taken to Thomas’ in the late afternoon and ordered to stay; to spend the night playing games with his cousin and get an early night.

And yet, once the servants had shut the boys in Thomas’ bedroom having provided them with warm milk and extra blankets, Francis had pulled Thomas back up, thrown him his Sunday best clothes, and dragged him towards the bedroom window.

“I’ll go first, then you jump after, yes?” Francis had said. He’d lifted the window open with ease and dropped carefully onto the floor below before holding his arms up to Thomas. “Come, cousin! Jump and I’ll catch you!”

“Where are we going?” Thomas had shouted down to him, climbing out anyway.

So they headed through the woods for the half an hour walk to Francis’ house only down the road, twigs and leaves crunching beneath their perfectly polished shoes.

Thomas was well known for following precisely what his slightly older, and much more popular cousin told him to do. As terrible an idea as trudging through the forest in the middle of the night to crash a ball that children were most definitely not allowed to was, Thomas couldn’t help but feel the anticipation mixed with nerves rise in his chest as the glow from the large open windows of the Button’s house came into view through the dappled trees.

The boys jumped the beautifully manicured hedge into the garden of the Button Family’s huge manor house. They tiptoed through the bushes, ducking and diving to avoid the gaze of high-society members talking in the gardens.

Upon finally reaching the ballroom, both boys were struck by the deafening noise of the ton talking and laughing and the delightful undertones of the string quartet playing on stage.

Thomas gazed up in awe at the variety of flowing sophisticated dresses and sharp suits that graced the forms of his society higher-ups, safe in the knowledge that he’d soon be donning his best clothes to join the merriments.

“Here, cousin!” Francis tapped him on the shoulder, breaking him from the transfixed stare he had on the others. “Eat this!” Francis thrust a small jam and cream cake into his hand. Thomas took a bite. He could’ve fainted: if parties were always like this, he never wanted to leave. Forget being a boisterous ten year old, what was that compared to the heaven of flowing music, perfectly delicious food, and the swell of pleasantries exchanged between society friends.

“Cousin!” Thomas was once again awoken from daydream by Francis pressing something into his hand but this time something that thoroughly shocked naive Thomas: a small flute of champagne.

“Cousin, we mustn’t!” Thomas exclaimed.

“Why not? How fun is this?” Francis took a swig of champagne as if it were orange juice around the family breakfast table. Attempting to copy his more mature cousin, Thomas took a mouthful, immediately descending into splutters as the champagne fizzled up his nose.

“Master Francis!” A voice called out. Both boys scrambled to drop their glasses onto the table and smooth down their clothes to look as presentable as two ten year olds in oversized suits at a party well out of their depth could look.

“You shouldn’t be down here, Master Francis!” A man in an elegant tuxedo approached the boys: Lord Seabrooke - one of the most powerful men in the high-society world Thomas and Francis were about to grow into. A firm but fair man, one that two ten year old boys certainly wouldn’t want to cross. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, boys?”

Thomas was about to speak up, apologise to his Lordship before sheepishly hiding behind the drinks table, but Francis got there first.

“Actually, your Lordship, my mother has given us permission to have a little look around,” Francis said confidently.

“She did say that,” Thomas agreed, modding slightly less self-assured than his wilful cousin.

“Did she now?” Lord Seabrooke scoffed. “Pray tell, why would your rather honourable mother possibly allow two boys to wander around her delightful ball?”

“Indeed, your Lordship,” Francis claimed. “Mother has been trying to prepare us for our entry into society. She says we are to observe the ball and study for our entry into society.”

“The pair of you shan’t enter the ton for at least another decade,” Lord Seabrooke commented.

“Yes, well,” Francis said as confidently as ever. “The more preparation the better, and some of us need it more than others.” He turned and glanced Thomas up and down, his eyes burning judgement into his cousin’s form. Lord Seabrooke followed his gaze, his eyes settling on the scuffed hole in the knee of Thomas’ best suit - he must have done it climbing through the woods.

“Hmm. Well, I suppose if your mother has allowed this, I shan’t impose.”

“Thomas Henry Thorne!” A voice screeched from across the hall, her voice rising high above the clamour of the ballroom. The boys whipped around to watch Thomas’ mother, Violet, marching her way across the dance floor fury in her eyes.

“What, in all that’s holy, are you doing here?” She caught a handful of Thomas’ jacket material, swiping at Francis as well as she barrelled the boys out of the room and into a nearby study slamming the door behind them. “What do you think you’re doing, boys! I left the two of you at home under strict instruction! How did you even get here?”

“Well, it was quite the adventure, mother!” Thomas was overcome with the trepidation of his trip through the woods and the excitement and wonder at seeing his first ever ball.

“I care not for what adventures you’ve been on!” Violet hissed. “How did you think this would be a good idea? You know you’re not allowed here!”

“If I may, can I at least tell my side of the story?” Thomas queried. Violet shot him a glare before he started. “You see, we were talking about what parties are like and wanted to see.”

He turned towards Francis, who was also glaring, debating how best to approach his mother’s interrogations. He took a deep breath, bracing himself.

“It was Francis.”

“You fiend!” Francis swiped at Thomas hitting him squarely in the chest. “This was your idea as much as mine!”

“Poppycock! Cousin took me through the woodland and said no one would question us here, which of course Lord Seabrooke, the nosy old git, proved wrong.”

“Thomas Thorne!” Violet snapped. “How dare you, young man! He is a respected member of society, working to ensure that our family are behaving respectfully. He was well within his right to accost you for galavanting around the Button’s party like wild animals.”

“But mother, we are simply preparing for our presentation to the ton!” Thomas cried.

“That is merely the lie you told the Honorable Seabrooke, do not think you shall fool me too!” Violet said. “Francis, I expect this from you.” Francis scoffed and went to object, before Violet waved him away. “But Thomas, this is simply unacceptable from you!”

“Mother, please just let us stay,” Thomas begged, moments from dropping to his knees and praying to her. “It’s just so perfect and romantic and gorgeous. I just cannot wait until we’re presented!”

“I have already requested a carriage, and Alistair has been told you’re on your way back.”

Thomas cringed, well aware that head servant Alistair would not be best pleased with his young master sneaking out the window. In fact, Thomas was quite sure Alistair’s face would turn the most pleasing shade of purple he often did when Thomas misbehaved, working incredibly hard to keep his fury in check.

The short carriage ride back to Thomas’ was spent mostly in silence as the two boys contemplated their adventure out and the reality of being able to one day enter society along with his parents.

Francis finally broke the silence: “it was worth it, though!”

“Oh, utterly!” The boys broke into fits of grins and giggles.

#bbc ghosts #ficbymax

[carewyncromwell]

Vhat’s this? Some canon content?? GASP. (Don’t worry, the next part of the POTC AU is in the works, I promise, I just have to finish writing out all the text XD;;;)

But uh, yeah! This is Duncan Ashe with my MC Carewyn Cromwell, though Care-Bear really doesn’t look like herself right now. That’s because this is directly post-Redacted.

After what happened in the Portrait Vault, Carewyn made the decision that she would not follow Rakepick’s example anymore by taking the entire burden of the Cursed Vaults completely on her shoulders and -- by extension -- lying to all of her friends that she was no longer interested in the Vaults so as to make sure none of them would try to help or stop her. This way (she thought) she could ensure that none of them would get hurt because of her again, like Merula did.

Unfortunately her friends really didn’t cooperate with this plan. Soon enough they started to get suspicious about how much Carewyn was hiding from them -- Charlie in particular got into a very heated argument with Carewyn after hearing about the “wizard in white” who was supposedly after her and Merula that Carewyn refused to tell them about, which ended up getting worse when Ben tried to “defend” Carewyn by attacking Charlie with Langlock and the two Gryffindors got into a huge physical confrontation that Carewyn had to break up. Ben, of course, refused to let Carewyn do anything on her own and so when he and Merula caught wind she was going to the Forest alone, they collided with her en route and refused to let her go without them. This, of course, led to the “Redacted” event where Rakepick killed Rowan.

As soon as it happened, Carewyn lost her mind. For long, horrible, stretching minutes all she could do was scream and grab onto Rowan, even physically and verbally lashing out at Ben and Merula with pure, undiluted spite and pain if they tried to get close. Then, by the time they reached the castle, Carewyn went completely silent. In the days and weeks that followed, Carewyn became a shadow of her former self.

To quote a previous post:

“This girl who is usually known for being an eternally composed, strong, witty, brave fashionista Mama Bear will, quite simply, disappear. No more stylish hair – no more polished make-up – no more pretty outfits…and worst of all, she will glide the halls like a ghost, unable to eat or say a word to anyone, and disappearing for long periods of time. The silence will be deafening. She cannot comfort others. She cannot reassure, encourage, nurture, or counsel her friends. She cannot sing. She cannot answer any of her friends’ or teachers’ questions or address their concerns. She cannot even cry. Her eyes are broken, empty, and devoid of light or hope.

“This goes on for weeks, with Carewyn disappearing more and more often…until one day, she is gone for a full 24 hours. Her friends panic, thinking that she might have run away or otherwise hurt herself, and tear the whole school apart looking for her. Bill will even put his most recent Cursebreaking assignment on hold to come back to Hogwarts to look for his friend. It’s when he arrives that Bill asks Duncan Ashe to help them look for Carewyn – and it is Duncan that finds Carewyn, huddled up alone in a dark closet inside the Astronomy Tower.

“Duncan tries to shake Carewyn back to her senses, but nothing he says gets through to her. Nothing he says can make her speak to him. Nothing he says can bring any life to her eyes. It’s so bad that Duncan – after what feels like an eternity of scolding, yelling, and appealing to Carewyn – falls apart and bursts into tears.”

This is what’s pictured here -- Duncan finally breaking down.

“What do I have to do, Carewyn!? Do you want me to grovel, is that it?! You want me to beg?! You heartless feck, TALK to me, damn it! Say something! Anything! Insult me, scream at me, curse me to Hell -- tell me to go away, if you want, I don’t care, just ANSWER ME! Just show me that you -- that you’re -- ”

Duncan’s voice seemed to get stuck in his throat. He choked -- he felt the clutching of his chest and noticed the blurring of his vision that came with crying, and yet he never felt the bubbling tears streaming from his eyes down his translucent face. He tried to blink them away, tried to look for any shred of awareness or consciousness in Carewyn’s face -- but she still never raised her head. Her cheeks were sickly, ghostly pale. Her dark, hollowed, bag-trimmed eyes were devoid of light.

Duncan recognized the emotion, or lack thereof -- and it scared him more than anything ever had. 

“Carewyn -- don’t -- don’t you dare! You...can’t...”

His head seemed to shake back and forth of its own accord. He reached out, wanting to comfort -- but he knew it was no use. Even if he could focus enough to not pass right through her, he couldn’t actually hold her hand, even if he wanted to.

Duncan had always wondered if he was really right to think that Jacob didn’t care that he was dead. Part of him always thought that he’d projected that lack of caring on Jacob all those years, simply because he hadn’t ever returned to Hogwarts, or Duncan hadn’t ever heard about how much he grieved...or...perhaps because Duncan himself thought he didn’t deserve being grieved, in the first place...

But this...if Jacob had been like this -- like his sister now -- devoid of light or hope...or even self-preservation...

Jacob’s sister wanted to die. The thing Jacob cherished more than his own life, that he spoke of with pure love in his face, that he always held up as his reason to keep fighting when things were their scariest -- the girl who Duncan himself had grown to care about, after she’d taken so much of her own time to make sure he didn’t feel all alone and to make some of his days just that little bit better...to make him feel, at least once in a while, that someone did mourn the fact he was no longer alive --

She wanted to die.

Duncan felt his heart breaking as he stared at Carewyn, unable to hold back his sobs.

“...Please...please...”

To continue the quoted summary,

“It’s only then that Carewyn finally opens her mouth and speaks. She puts her hand down inside Duncan’s own translucent hand as if trying to hold it and asks if he can feel anything. Duncan cries even harder, yelling furiously – even after everything that had happened and everything he’d said, all Carewyn can do was worry about everyone else! And it’s then that the truth finally comes out – Carewyn doesn’t see herself as someone worthy of love and caring. She’s vanished because she doesn’t see her life as something worth protecting, or her pain worth healing. She doesn’t deserve her friends’ or the staff’s concern. She doesn’t deserve their comfort or sympathy. She ‘deserves’ to be alone, and in pain, and hated, for what happened to Rowan. She ‘knows’ it would be better for everyone if she simply…vanished.

“Eventually, however, Duncan smashes through Carewyn’s self-loathing and suicidal thoughts. Maybe she doesn’t think she deserves to be loved…but she is loved all the same…by choices made by the people around her. They are the ones who can determine how they see Carewyn – not her. They’re the ones who are owed a choice in whether or not they accept Carewyn for everything she is.

“At last, Carewyn comes down from the Astronomy Tower. She collides with Bill, Charlie, Ben and Merula at the bottom of the stairs. The three Gryffindor boys all dash forward, throwing their arms around Carewyn and latching onto her like they’re never going to let her go again. There is an intense exchange – but when Carewyn finally breaks down into tears and admits that she needs help, her friends decide to stand by her, even despite the many mistakes she’s made. And from there…very slowly…the healing begins.”

#carewyn cromwell #my art #duncan ashe #roleplaying #my writing #rowan khanna #redacted #charlie weasley #ben copper #jacob cromwell #Jacob #hphm #hogwarts mystery #tw suicide

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day Two: A Gentle Heart For a Noble Soul [Orion x Sabina]

I’m slow with writing all of my entries for @ockissweek but eventually, I’ll get to them all, even if takes me weeks. XD 

In Day 2, this story features Sabina Peg’asi, one of my Andromeda Six traveler and Orion, @julikidmxns's Dead Space OC. There’s a little bit of crossover going on but I believe I made it work. Hopefully, I portrayed your boy right, @julikidmxns! :)

Summary: He signed up to be a princess’s bodyguard to take a break from all the horrors he’d seen in space. Compared to his previous line of work, guarding royalty was small potatoes. And yet, Sabina Peg’asi was definitely not the type of royal he was expecting but now, he’d protect her to the ends of the galaxy and back. Day 2 of OC Kiss Week 2021. Prompt: Courtship. [Orion x Sabina]

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“When I love

I become liquid light.”

― Nizar Qabbani

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He never expected his next bodyguard gig would wind him up a royal palace, almost a galaxy away from his own home, but at least the job was straightforwardly easy enough and the pay was absurdly lucrative. As long as he kept his new charge safe, he would be set for life.

His new charge was a princess, a far jump from all the wealthy business people who hired him for clout and to look intimidating to all their enemies and allies. This princess was dressed in a long, slender beige and silver gown decorated with such elaborate geometric designs and needlework that Orion wondered how long it took the dressmaker to produce such an intricate (and expensive) article of clothing--if the young royal’s wardrobe was indeed handmade. Next to her, he felt severely undressed. 

Resisting the urge to check his clothing for any pressed lines or wrinkles, he opted for staring ahead like a typical stoic guard and repeated the name of his charge in his head while he wanted for the princess’s mother to arrive. She was the one who contacted him about her request--albeit technically, one of her secretaries called him on the Stellar Queen’s behalf. This would be the first time he spoke to the queen, assuming she would make an appearance. 

Princess Sabina Peg’asi, youngest child of King Fenris and Ta’jean, the Stellar Queen. Hopefully, you won’t be too much trouble. 

Bright pink eyes stared up at him with uncertainty and Orion shifted a little in place, keeping his back ramrod straight and his expression completely neutral. Standing in such an opulent room with a young royal scrutinizing him in only a quiet, curious manner was an alarmingly drastic change to his previous stints as a mercenary, especially with some of the weird, inconceivable shit he’d seen in his line of worth and some of that included the dead coming back to life as beings even more monstrous and voidless. At least there wouldn’t be any Necromorphs lurking in the hundreds of crystal chandeliers or underneath the vivid, elaborately woven and designed rugs that probably cost more than a year’s worth of his salary. He quickly glanced down to make sure his boots were polished and clean along with no traces of scuff marks or muddy footprints on the plush carpet. 

As he rose his head to face his new charge, the young princess quickly curtsied, her long navy blue braids dipping down with her while the perfectly round twin buns on either side of her head never wobbled or wavered during the slight movements. Her buttery yellow skin glowed briefly, a testament to her half-Tiljanni heritage. Her behavior confirmed Orion’s suspicion that there indeed was someone important behind him because no princess would curtsy to a bodyguard in greeting. 

“Hello, Mother,” the half-Tiljanni princess greeted, only resuming her full stance after her mother boredly bid her to rise with a wave of her hand. His charge stared hopefully at her mother, a small smile gracing her slightly round and youthful features. “I’m so overjoyed to see you today!”

The Stellar Queen barely paid Princess Sabina a glance as she settled her cold, crossed gaze on Orion and crossed her arms. Several of her own guards, as well as a close confidant, and secretary, were right behind her. Silence permeated the area and just when Orion was about to introduce him and list off some of the credentials, the Tiljanni queen nodded stiffly at him and snapped her head back at her secretary, a human who appeared at least twenty years older than him.

“He’ll do. Set him up in a room near Sabina’s quarters so he can reach and protect her at a moment’s notice.”

Both of Orion’s eyebrows rose up but he uttered nothing. That was the fastest job interview he ever had his entire life. Either Queen Ta’jean read his list of qualifications and experiences or someone else did and told her about them because her mind was already made up. Besides, he had a feeling how peeved she would be if he decided to tell the Stellar Queen he had a change of heart and would not be accepting the royal family’s offer to guard one of their precious children. 

Ta’jean’s secretary nodded, bowing his head. “It will be done, Your Majesty. I’ve already discussed the terms of payment to the mercenary and he is more than satisfied with the salary we assigned to the position.”

“You daughter will be in safe hands,” Orion spoke up, disliking how they were talking around him as if he wasn’t standing right there. “There is nothing I can’t handle.”

The queen shot him a bored look before adjusting the long sleeves of her dress. “I hope you’re right. Someone needs to keep Sabina on a tighter leash since she has a penchant for wandering off and letting her curiosity get the better of her.”

The said princess glided to her mother with such poise and grace Orion nearly mistook her a fairy. “That was one time, Mother, and I was horribly lost! Plus, I hadn’t seen you in weeks and I wanted to visit you.” She bit her lip at the last admission, her hands gripping the skirt of her finely wrought gown and twisting the fabric as she stared at her mother tearfully. “Last time you cancelled our private dinner. Do you think we can have some time together tomorrow?”

The Stellar Queen unleashed a heavy, burdensome sigh as she gifted her daughter an exasperated expression. “You know how busy I am lately, Sabina. Tomorrow most certainly will not work but…” She sighed again, as if she was a long suffering martyr. “But we can try at the end of this week.”

A wide, elated beam immediately stretched itself across Sabina’s soft features and her pale yellow skin seemed to illuminate from her recent joy. “Thank you so much, Mother! I can hardly wait! We have so much to catch up on!” She embraced her unwilling mother tightly, the hope in her pink eyes painfully evident. Orion’s gut twisted as he observed this uneven display of affection, of a young daughter so desperate for her mother’s attention and time that she was merrily settling for scraps of it. In the back of his mind, he wondered who he really should be protecting Sabina from: foes against the Crown or Sabina’s own family.   

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Orion, her new bodyguard, was definitely easier to get along with than she first anticipated. 

Besides her oldest sister Nerissa, the Crown Princess of Goldis, her only other friends were Maristela, her half-sister who was a year older than her, and Vex, a palace guard assigned to the protection of both her and Maristela but now was focused more Maristela’s safety now Orion was hired to be her personal bodyguard. It was weird having someone new follow her around, making sure she wasn’t alone with strangers, palace staff members, or even relatives (a Peg’asi could never be too careful Sabina once heard). She was so used to just having Vex be at her and Maristela’s side for so long that she forgot Vex was still essentially a palace guard instead of being her first true companion that wasn’t a blood relative. 

But Orion was surprisingly easy to get along with, once she got him to open up. She could still recall his confused face when she gave him a tour of the palace, asking him he was faring in his new role, and later, inviting him to a card game with her, Maristela, and Vex. Even after her assurances he didn’t have to come if he had no desire to so, he still showed up and awkwardly sat next to her, somehow winning half of their games thanks to his mastery of emotions. Sabina observed at him through every game, vainly trying to search for a hidden tell or a crack in his distinguished, staid visage. Even his striking grey eyes revealed nothing but there was a warmth in his eyes when he congratulated on her first win. Later, Maristela teased her on how much she had been staring at her new bodyguard, her grin widening at Sabina’s flushed cheeks and vehement protests. And when she tried to explain her reasoning, Maristela simply smirked some more and bantered that she didn’t expect her to be interested in men with streaks of silver in their hair. In an uncharacteristic bout of frustration, Sabina hurtled one of her pillows at her older sister but Maristela merely dodged and kept laughing, even as another pillow hit her arm.  

Despite her sister’s teasing, Sabina didn’t distance herself from Orion. Even though having a bodyguard reduced her already dwindling amount of privacy, Orion was her friend now and found ways to give her some semblance of freedom. She was always grateful for his kindness. 

With a bounce in her step, she rapt on Orion’s door, hugging the books close to her chest as she swayed back and forth in anticipation for his arrival. She truly hoped he was free and in the mood to go outside. She relished spending time with him, even if he didn’t reveal a lot of details about himself. 

The door cracked open and Orion’s head appeared, followed by two muscular arms as he opened the door wider once he saw Sabina was alone. Sabina’s rosy eyes roamed how some of his dark hair was parted to the side in soft waves, his full, finely groomed groom and mustache sprinkled with strands of white and grey. For a second, all words failed her and Sabina drew blank on what to say.

He peered at her curiously. “Your Highness? Is everything all right?” The hint of concern in his tone yanked her back from her trance and Sabina smiled reassuringly at him. Next time, she’ll compose herself better around him and not randomly get lost into gazing at his handsome face and kind eyes---

Focus, Sabina! 

Fixing her stare at his forehead instead of his eyes, Sabina managed to finally form some words without being hopefully distracted. “Everything is just fine, Orion! And remember, you can call me Sabina when we’re out of the public eye.”

He ran a hand through his hair--it looked a little bit damp, Sabina noticed. Did he shower recently? “I’ll try to remember that, Your--Sabina. Did you need something?”

Remembering the real reason why she initially knocked on his door, the half-Tiljanni princess stood briefly on her toes as she bounced a little, unable to contain her good cheer. “Since the weather is proving to be quite pleasant and promising, I wanted to stroll along the gardens and find a nice place to read my books.” She glanced down, a sudden shyness creeping into her while her cheeks heated up. “And, well, I was wondering if I could give you a tour around the gardens. You mentioned you never witness gardens so enormous and well groomed before so I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to rectify that. The flowers have bloomed perfectly!”

His mouth twitched into a small smile, the warmth in his eyes remaining. “If that is what you wish, Your High--I mean, Sabina, then let me gear up and I will escort you to the palace gardens.” 

Still bouncing on her feet, Sabina beamed brightly at her minor victory. “Wonderful! I’ll be waiting in my room when you’re done. And no need to rush on my account, Orion. I have my books to keep my company until you’re ready to resume your post.” 

He bowed his head at her respectfully. “Of course, Sabina.” 

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Reading in the gardens with no one but Orion standing by worked in her favor much more than she expected it too. Besides the entrance of the royal gardens, her and Orion hadn’t run into anyone from the palace, particular her siblings. The unexpected privacy pleased her, for she didn’t have to worry about anyone popping out of nowhere and rebuke her for the way she was oh so casually leaning up against Orion as she read her beginner’s medical text and snuck glances at her bodyguard to see how he was faring. He was still hard to read, something Sabina wished she could do better. Her mother wouldn’t often criticize her for how open she was with her emotions, always wearing her heart on her sleeves and trying to make friends when she should be distancing herself from everyone and analyze what they want from her. 

Unbidden tears swam near the brim of her eyelids and furiously, she rubbed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the words on the page before her and banish the last conversation she had with her mother over dinner. One that ended far too soon for her liking. 

“The sooner you harden that fragile, weak heart of yours, Sabina, the better. Or else this world will chew you up and spit you back up and you won’t be able to recover from it. And I won’t be around to tell you ‘I told you so’.” 

Inhaling deeply, Sabina fiercely flipped the text page, trying to ignore how blurry the text was starting to look as her treacherous eyes became watery once more. Her mother was wrong, she wasn’t weak! ...Was she?

“Next time we talk, Sabina, I hope to see evidence that you took my advice to heart.”

Her concentration evaporated, Sabina dejectedly closed the book and aimlessly stared at a rose bush across from her, drawn to all the various colors in each flower while blinking back the unshed tears. Today was a perfectly good day for her and Orion and she would not ruin the peaceful mood by crying! 

Beside her, Orion shifted. Out of the corner of her eye, Sabina saw his body was pointed squarely at her. Keeping her head down, she tried dabbing her eyes and ended up sniffing a little in the process. She didn’t need to look up to see his alarmed reaction, his concern for her was practically rolling in waves. 

“Sabina...what’s wrong? I thought you’d be excited to be outside, in the gardens.”

“It’s not that,” she choked out, thoroughly humiliated when a hiccup or two escaped her in the middle of her explanation. “Everything here is perfect. The weather is beautiful, you’re here, and I have some semblance of privacy, but…” Another hiccup came and several treacherous tears trickled down her cheeks. 

In a flash, he in front of her, one knee on the ground and his kind grey eyes fixated directly at her, searching for any signs that caused her distress. “But what?” he gently prodded. 

Shame flooded her yet Sabina couldn’t deny him. In such a short timespan, Orion became one of the very few people who understood her and when they were alone, treated her like a normal person, without a hint of judgement. If anyone could give the truth straight to her, it would be him.

“Am I weak, Orion?” she whispered hoarsely, leveling her vivid pink eyes with his grey ones reluctantly. “Am I just an useless paper doll that can't do anything right?” She reached out, searching for Orion’s hands, to hold onto something real and stable, and he complied, wrapping his gloved hands around her dainty yellow ones. 

“Whoever told you that is wrong, Sabina,” he replied, not even bothering to inquire where this disparaging musing of hers came from. He most likely heard snippets of her mother’s scathing words during their private dinners when he was outside, guarding the door until Sabina was ready to return to her chambers. “You are not weak. You have more strength than you realize.” 

She squeezed his hands a little for solace. “But how? I don’t have the vast knowledge or skill set like many Tiljaani have to help people nor do I know any useful things to contribute to my family or to Goldis in general! There is so much I can’t do or understand, even with an advanced royal education!”

“Your compassion is not a weakness.” The sharp edge in his tone startled Sabina but she listened, feeling herself drawn to Orion and whatever he may say next. “Don’t let anyone else convince you otherwise. There is a shortage of people with a gentle heart like yours, who just want to help and make everyone’s lives a little better. With little or no success, I’ve beheld how you try to reach out to your siblings, the ones who you hardly have interacted with, for a chance to be a real family. And even when you don’t get the result you hoped for, you try again. You’re far too determined to give up so easily.”

Her lips cracked into a tiny smile and she sniffed, trying to clear her nose while a few more tears leaked out even as she blanked them back. Her hands were still collapsed inside Orion’s and she had no desire to retract them back. She liked the way he was holding her--or her hands, in this case. 

“You really think so?” she asked carefully, inwardly wincing at the temor in her voice. She slid down from her stone bench to kneel down in front of Orion, craving to be closer to him and whatever else he had to say. Maybe she was just searching for validation but his words were beginning to bring her some comfort. 

He nodded his head firmly. “I do. After all, you’re one of the very few people here who went out of their way to welcome me and always wanted to know how I was doing or if I needed anything. Do you think I’ve forgotten the time when I reminisced what my favorite dish was to you and magically, the very next day, the kitchens were serving that meal to me for supper?”

“Your face seemed so wistful, so nostalgic that I just had to find a way to give a little piece of your home back to you. All I did was inform the cook of what was in the dish and she did the rest. She did all the work, not me.”

Orion’s visage was now barely an inch away from her, his sincerity blazing freely in his gaze while the corners of his eyes softened ever so slightly. “Yes, but you’re the one who listened to me and took the initiative to make me feel a little bit more welcomed and at home in this new world. No one gave you orders, you just executed that on your own.” A ghost of a smile danced on his mouth, so close to her own lips that for a fleeting second, Sabina was breathless. “That’s just one of the many reasons that make you so beautiful.”

No sooner did that admission left him, did Orion realize his slip and jerked his head back, eyes wide in alarm. Inwardly, Sabina bemoaned the loss of their proximity and with what little physical strength she possessed, she tugged him back to her before he remembered to release her hands. She was so used to his touch and how warm and safe his own hands were.

Peering up at him through her eyelashes (a trick she was glad Maristela taught her), Sabina leaned her body closer to him, saying, “You really mean all that? Even the beautiful part?”

Orion coughed awkwardly, his gaze now on their joined hands, which appeared much more romantic given to how long they were simply kneeling together, holding hands. Finally, the tension melted out of his broad shoulders as he slumped forward, as if conceding. “Yes...yes, I do. I mean every word of it.” 

Her skin glowed like the sun at his confession yet Sabina hardly cared enough to notice. Instead, she leaned in nigh enough for their noses to first bump into each other before she angled her head to its side to plant a chaste but lingering kiss to his cheek. Traces of his beard tickled her skin, a sensation she enjoyed far more than anticipated. The princess thought his beard would be scratchy but its thick smoothness pleasantly surprised her. 

Orion’s breathing hitched but he didn’t yank himself away from her. “Princess, Sabina, are you sure…?”

She kissed him again, this time on the lips. “I’ve never been sure of something my entire life.” Embolden, Sabina planted a third kiss on his forehead and was rewarded with an encouraging, soft smile from Orion. “Consider this a very special thank you from a very grateful and smitten princess.” 

And when Orion’s hands cupped her supple, round face to dry away any remaining tears from her cheeks, he wasted no time to kiss her slowly, steadily, and full of tenderness, causing her poor heart to burst with elation while she encircled her arms around him, feeling the muscles on his back clenching momentarily beneath her fingertips. That last kiss rendered them both breathless, unable to remove themselves from each other’s arms. Sabina was content to sit there, listening to her bodyguard’s heartbeat while he absentmindedly stroked her back.

“You don’t mind that, I, er---?”

“Kissed me?” Sabina grinned as she cocked her head up to face, unable to conceal her glee. “Not at all! I hope you didn’t mind either.” 

His chest rumbled with a chuckle and he tucked one of her long, thin braids behind her ear. “You don’t have to worry about me, Sabina. Unexpected as those kisses were, I enjoyed them as well.”

A coy grin spread itself across her refined features. “Then does that mean we should resume said kissing or if not, at least plan on getting back to it in the near future?”

Orion cocked one bemused brow at her, entertained by her sudden boldness. “I may not know much of Goldis customs but are you attempting to woo me, Princess Sabina?”

Her cheeks darkened by a deep blush, more evident by the vibrant illuminance from her skin. “Yes...? Do you not like that?” Her voice came out rather tentative and nervous. 

Shaking his head, he let himself smile for her again prior to kissing in the center of her forehead, reassuring her that his feelings hadn’t changed or were a fabric of her imagination. “I just wonder what I did to deserve such a kind soul like you.” 

“Just give me a day and I’ll have an entire book filled out on why you’re a noble, wonderful man with a caring heart, sweet eyes, and very nice beard.”

He gave his pepper speckled beard a quick stroke. “Just nice?”

Sabina pouted, crossing her arms. “Don’t tease me, Orion! I really do like your beard!”  

After a few more minutes of banter and blissful enfoldments, she was due to return to the palace and get ready for one of her musical lessons. Smoothing out the creases in the chiffon fabric of her pale pink gown, complete with tiny golden stars decorating the attire from top to bottom, Sabina glanced up in time to watch Orion snap off a brilliantly crimson rose from the nearby rosebush and present the striking flower to her. He scratched the back of his head, an awkward tic of his that Sabina found to be rather endearing.

“I’m not really good at romance or know the correct steps to sweeping you off your feet, but if I’m going to secretly court you, I’m going to do this right,” he explained, looking a little self-conscious as he held out the red rose to her. “And I remember you remarking earlier in our tour of the gardens that roses are one of your favorite flowers so---”

He never got to finish his sentence. Sabina had already tossed her arms around his neck and covered him with at least a half-dozen of airy kisses, all followed by the words: “Thank you thank you, Orion!” 

The next day, Sabina snuck a fresh tulip containing the same color of her rose into one of Orion’s spare holsters. After all, she shouldn’t be the only one to receive gifts in this covert courtship.  

#OCKiss21 #OCKissWeek #ockissweek21 #Sabina Peg'asi #Orion Caldwell #Orion x Sabina #a6 traveler #andromeda six traveler #Dead Space #Andromeda Six #A6 #A6 game #oc kiss week #OCs #my writing #No proofreading we die like men #I was getting so giddy at the end of this ship because the royal/protector dynamic was killing me and giving me so many options for them

[eve-evil-lair]

Night of Research, NSFW, Merman x Human (M)

Okay “not Kay” XD I hope you enjoy it. Allen and Issith belong to my friends Kay ( @singinghands​ ) and Spooder ( @silver-spider-art​ ). This is definitely an AU for the characters.

Disclaimer: Aside of being Polish myself I took some artistic liberties here with how the whole festivity is done. Without further ado- have fun folks. First time writing mlm romance, please be gentle. @monster-bait​ tagging you again but let me know if I should stop xD

If you see this consider reblogging as it seems my posts don’t appear in the tags. Happy Mermay y’all

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The night of Kupała, the shortest and probably the hottest night of his life. In more meaning that one.

Allen’s great-grandparents were from Poland, they had moved to the States shortly after the country gained independence. His grandmother had told him all the stories her mother, his great-grandmother, would have tell her; about the bloodthirsty strzygi, dancing rusałki and vodyanoys looking for wives among humankind. He has been fascinated with them ever since, much to his parents' dismay.

The fascination turned into passion and passion turned into a degree in folklore and ethnic studies. Finally, he had gotten himself a grant and with that, he set off to Europe to study his childhood stories in person.

He had already spent half a year working happily on his new thesis and he had found a perfect place to study the still alive traditions of Kupała’s night. The locals warned him though to not leave the local celebration because this was one of the nights when the veil between the world of mortals and fae was the thinnest and strange things happened in the forest around them.

The air was thick and the heat stuck to his skin even at night. The cool air from the nearby flow lake helped a little as he kept to the sidelines watching the dancing people. There was some drink being passed and he tried some out of the courtesy. It burned his throat making him cough. The locals had a good laugh out of him. Someone must have thrown something into the fire because suddenly the air filled with the scent of burning herbs and something sweet. He tried writing down as much as he could but his head was getting fuzzy. Taking another drink was a mistake. The heavily honeyed wine coated his throat and burned in his veins. He needed to breathe.

Despite the earlier warnings, he made his way as far as he could from the celebration. He sat down at the sandy shore and tossed his shoes off. The water washed over his feet cooling him down immediately. He laid down and let himself breathe.

Whatever was in the smoke or the drinks, or maybe both affected not just his brain but also his physiology. Knowing that everyone was at the party (and maybe he didn’t think too clearly anyway) he undid his pants and sighed as his dick sprung free, erect and seeping the precum a little.

“Great,” he sighed and wrapped his hand around it pumping his cock. Oh, that felt good. He closed his eyes and let himself fantasise of hot mouth and a heavy hand that didn’t belong to him.

Suddenly something cold touched him and he sprung up alert. His eyes focused and what he was about to scream when a wet finger touched Allen’s mouth and a quiet voice whispered: “Shh.”

The creature before him... the best he could say it was... a mermai- no, a merman? Maybe? The upper part seemed humanoid enough, dark hair and eyes like two voids, his(?) skin was covered in bright orange scales that matched the tail. The creature asked him something and it took him a moment to register. Oh, so they could talk. Not in English though. It seemed his new companion used a sign language. It was a bit of a strange one but similar enough to ASL.

Allen used his best to reply, which seemed to make the merman happy. The fishtail wagging happily over the lake’s surface, splashing water.

“What are you doing here? Not at the party with others?” The merman asked.

“It was getting too much for me, it’s my first time,” Allen replied.

The creature tilted his head. “My name is Issith. You’re not from here?”

“Allen and no.” He shook his head.

“Me neither, I’m visiting friends. They are busy now.” Issith looked to the forest then his eyes fell down at the still erect cock. “Do you want to celebrate too?” He asked simply looking up.

Allen stared back a bit dumbfounded. “I, um-” In all his life as a researcher... This was.... His mouth went dry and his cock twitched. There was lust in these void-like eyes. “Sure.” Allen replied much to his own surprise.

Issith’s mouth stretched in a wide smile. The two met in at first a careful kiss. Testing the waters, heh. It was so strange, a bit more wet, sharper than usual but just as needy. Just as passionate. He marvelled at the difference of a texture of his partner’s tongue. It made him shiver when it moved to his neck. The sand grated over the skin on his back as his clothes were removed. 

The merman found his cock, while their mouths were busy. The wet but strong hand gripped him well and stroked, at first exploring the anatomy, stroking the balls and rubbing his tip, gauging for a reaction. And a reaction he got. Allen gasped and moaned. Already panting, he gritted his teeth, his hips pushing into Issith’s hand. He cracked his eyes open a little and looked down he saw the webbed hand working magic on him. At the edge of his vision he noticed that Issith also was affected. Without thinking Allen reached his own hand and stroked the dick of his partner. The shape, girth and textures were different, more bumpy. He licked his lips as his brain tried to work out how it’d feel to taste it. For research of course.

Issith moaned in his ear and sharp teeth traced Allen’s earlobe. Encouraged, Allen squeezed him a little and continued to stroke. His hands went into the damp strands of Issith’s hair, while the merman’s tail wrapped around his legs.

Issith was now directly above him. Their eyes met as both males breathed heavily. Their cocks touched and the two worked each other, faster and faster until the tension was too much to bear. Allen couldn’t stop himself. He bit Issith’s neck and the merman finished with a growl and as if in retaliation bit Allen’s shoulder. It brought stars under his eyes and he came. Their mixed, hot seed staining both their stomachs. 

The merman collapsed next to Allen and sighed. Lazily he lift his hands and signed “Nice,” stretching the word with the movement.

“Yeah, it was,” Allen agreed. The bit stung a little now. “Am I bleeding?” 

“Sorry, wait,” Issith siged, looking sheepishly at him. He nuzzled Allen’s head before splashing back into the water. He returned quickly back with something that looked like first aid kid in a waterproof bag. 

“Thanks,” Allen smiled and let the merman dress the bit. “So, I’m going to be here for a couple more months... do you want to hang out some more?”

Issith nodded and smiled, his tail swishing happily. He finished wrapping the bite mark and stroked Allen’s arm affectionately. 

“Great.” Allen laid down on the sand again and patted the spot next to him. “I like the sky here. You don’t get to see this much stars where I’m from.” 

Issith laid next to him. The night was long, the noise of the humans celebrating was far in the distance. This was a really good choice coming here after all. 

#exophilia #mermay #monster boyfriend #my writing #lemon

[four-loose-screws]

What would you rank all the fire emblem games that you have played.

Thank you for waiting, anon! This essay is finally finished! XD I don’t know if either of us ever intended for this to end up so long, but it did.

It’s interesting to see how each person experiences each game, so I hope everyone enjoys reading this. If anyone wants to ask questions for more details or just for conversation, please do!

I did a tier grouping ranking as well as ordering from bottom -> top, because that helped explain my feelings a little better. This isn’t really reflecting my nostalgia or personal feelings for the characters/world quite as much as “how much fun I had in my initial playthrough(s).” Because I think that’s what these sorts of lists are generally asking for.

First, I’d like to make a general statement about why I love FE games so much: Well, most simply it’s because I have more fun playing FE than any other series. That much is obvious though, right? I also love them because they all stand out in their own way, with their own unique combination of features, and because they are all super ambitious titles. It may lead to some rushing and half-baked ideas, but ambition is what excites me the most in any series. Even if the creators are not able to fully realize the ideas they had, the hard work still wows me as I play, and I can see hints of the full vision they had in every nook and cranny. Even the lowest games on this list are pretty high up there for me in fun level. The “fun but flawed” games just had glaring issues that interrupted the fun from time to time.

...FEs 1 & 3 are overall exceptions to the “unique and standing out rule,” being early games in the series; and FE6 set up post-Famicom FE, so it’s pretty basic, too - but they still get their own awards for setting a solid foundation for a fun video game series that withstands the test of time.

I can’t fully explain it, why I attached to FE the most over all other game series out there. But when I play FE, I usually don’t think about what’s not so great about the games. I just have fun. The gameplay always has me thinking, and I get engrossed in the stories and unlocking convos and supports.

Basic Tier

These games are really hard to judge properly in the ranking system, because they are just so basic for the series.

FE1 / FE11

When FE11 came out, I remember it getting so much flack for being really, really boring. But I didn’t get that. I like FE gameplay and storytelling at its core, so I don’t need the bells and whistles to have a good time. I knew this is where the series started, and was surprised with what content there was considering this is a remake of a game on the Famicom (NES).

FE1 set a very solid foundation for what the core of the series would be. Load it up next to a modern game, and it feels so the same and different all at once. I’ve only played a little bit of FE1 itself. I just can’t get through it because FE11 is SO similar to FE1, so you really only have to play one to get the whole experience. I didn’t feel like playing the same game over again at the time, so FE1 is still on my unfinished list.

Basic, solid foundation for the ages / 10

FE3 / FE12

After FE11 played it “safe” and took an “upgraded graphics with a few new ideas tacked on” approach, I was blown away by how much FE12 did, even if it was more for worse than better sometimes. It added so many conversations, was the first to tinker with the idea of a more fleshed out Avatar, added more story… and so on.

From what I’ve read recently, the new story stuff isn’t that great, but I don’t remember now. I’ve only played this game once. Overall, despite some clunk with the giant maps and so on, this game really challenged itself to improve from FE11, and it’s how I learned to love remakes that aren’t afraid to deviate from and add a lot to the original!

Set the stage for what kind of fun and ambition an FE remake could have / 10

FE3 is way more of a classic than any of us in the West can truly understand. It sold insanely well (the best in the series until Awakening I believe?), challenged the programmers to put FE1 on the cart as well, long before re-releases were a thing in the industry, and the game even made it to the Super Famicom Mini! I haven’t played it yet because again, it’s hard to get the motivation to play through the slow speed and clunkiness when I’ve already experienced the remake, but I’m looking forward to it some day.

The good ol’ days of the Super Famicom & SNES / 10

FE6

This was the first game without Kaga (the series original creator), so it set the stage for a future without him. The series might have strayed far from his plans for story and such, but this game, while it was pretty basic, firmly established a new foundation for the series on a new system, and gave a glimpse of what greatness the future had in store.

Overall though, this game is harder to commit to memory than others, except for classic characteristics like how terrible Roy is until, finally, BAM he gets his sword in the final stretches of the game; and running in circles from Douglas so you can avoid fighting him and successfully recruit him after the chapter.

Awkward, but sets a solid foundation for post-Kaga and post-Famicom FE / 10

Fun But Flaws Distracted From The Fun A Lot Tier

FE16

I really, really hate to say it, because this game tries to mix up the FE formula with the school setting and other new features and changes, and brought in a good mix of old and new, just like all the other FE games. But this game left very little impact on me for such a big experience. And I’m leaving out the fact that trying to play all four routes is dull as heck when I place the game this low. I’m basing it off of just how much I enjoyed the first playthrough.

Overall, I was most turned off by the class system. Which is funny, because I’ve seen others praise this as FE’s best class system. Everyone’s different. Classic classes like troubadours are just gone. The top tier classes are super limiting. Of course, you can just stop one tier down, but that’s not emotionally satisfying to me - I want my characters to reach the top! Despite having such free choice, I feel more limited than anything. If they’d just stopped at 4 tiers and not tried to go to 5, I think that would have been best. They had to stretch out the available classes too much to get to 5. ...Although being able to have an army of dragon riders is awesome, I’ll give it that. Dragons are too cool. 

I was also really disappointed by the story. Fire Emblem has established that it can write a really emotional plot, and not be afraid to pull punches, with games like 4 and 8. I was expecting a huge contrast between part 1, where everyone is friends and classmates, and part 2, where war rips them apart, transforms them into different people, and forces them to brutally slaughter each other.

But in reality…the hate between Dimitri and Edelgard has nothing to do with the school at all… That was jarring to me. Of course there is no one right direction to take a story in. But the worldbuilding and story writing… feels even less coherent than Fates. That’s an accomplishment.

This is the one time I say ambition was really just too much. The game didn’t get enough polish. A game about the seasons doesn’t even have seasonal differences...

While my friends who don’t usually play Fire Emblem have had a fantastic experience with this one, after all I’ve been through, I found that I liked other FE’s more.

I think the best part about this game is the characters and supports. After Fates had a ton of supports in it just because it had to have them, the creators of this game weren’t afraid to change up the support formula once more, so they could balance quality and quantity. ...And then, ironically, this game went for the (almost entirely) mute, personality-less avatar character. Funny how that works out. XD

Dragon Lord Army Go! / 10

FE14

I feel this game deserves way more credit than it gets, while also agreeing with the critiques. The ambition was as great as ever. But then it got stuck in development hell and we got what we got. (For those who don’t know, the team was divided in two - the team that wanted a more fanservic-y experience, and the one that wanted to make a standard FE.)

I think the gameplay is the best part of this game, Conquest is great, and the gimmicks are indeed gimmicks, but still fun. In offering three different experiences, the entire package will please few, but that was the point of the multiple routes, to give everyone one route they would like, not to please everyone with all three.

But beyond the gameplay, the story is all over the place, the multiple routes just create more questions than answers; and features like an increased number of support convos and children feel like they are there only because of a desire to bring back “popular” features. After multiple food/cooking supports in a row, I couldn’t take it any more. There was so little that the characters were actually talking about in their supports vs. Awakening. I generally feel that more supports = better, because character interaction through supports is of course a highlight of post-Famicom FE, but in this case, the numbers did not do any favors.

Bringing back weapons that don’t break didn’t feel well done, either. I just ended up using basic weapons the whole time because I didn’t want to deal with the drawbacks of the higher level weapons.

Back to a positive for me: The hub world was neat, though it needed some convoluted story writing to be included. I was amused by going through the different features and collecting the items. I agree with Nintendo of America taking out the “petting minigame,” but since I lived in Japan when Fates released, it was amusing to do on the train and weird out the bored Japanese people who peered over my shoulder.

Since all three routes were different, this game was fun enough until the end in comparison to Three Houses, of which I am STILL trying to slog through the last route one year after release. But Fates was made for every route to be different, whereas Three Houses was not, so it’s not surprising I feel like that.

But time for the real talk about this game… why is everyone’s HP so low??? What happened?????

Up and down and all around in quality from start to finish / 10

FE15

I really want to like this game more. Oh, do I. It’s absolutely GORGEOUS, the character art makes my heart skip a beat, the game proved that full voice acting does fit FE really well, it fleshed out things like the dungeon crawling & story, and added support conversations & skills, etc. while still staying kind of basic, retaining the feeling that the original was on the NES. The momentum for the fun and ambition that an FE remake could have transitioned well from FE12 to here and led to this being a stunningly presented game.

But the creators totally missed the point on what were the defining features of the game in my opinion, and that mismatch of vision ruined a lot for me. I loved the imbalance, struggling as I placed my units in corners of maps just to survive, until I obtained all those OP items, and my super soldiers marched into battle and did wild and amazing things. Valbar with +5 move and 40 speed with the Speed Ring is the one thing I remember the best of FE2 and oh man was it fun, and did I love it.

And I mean, I understand why the creators weren’t going to keep that imbalance, it doesn’t make the game good for everyone. It’s just something I found fun, and made the game stand out among the other FEs. But the developers really just replaced old imbalance with new imbalance, the dread fighters being the one thing I remember in particular.

And they defined FE2’s best defining features as “the maps and the terrain effects” and I just did not agree. That was the stuff I DISLIKED about FE2! And that’s what they wanted to keep most? The terrain that made battles one giant miss, and the gigantic maps where I’d spend half the time just getting to the enemies? No thanks.

Then the story only cranked up the horrible treatment of the women, with Faye… being Faye, and I hated the direction they went in with Celica’s story...  Ugh.

For every step or two forward, there’s one back / 10

FE10

FE games are always ambitious, but this one cranked the dial up to 10 and tripped over itself a lot. Still, it provided (even if it is info dumped) an intense and satisfying ending to the Tellius saga, and is another classic for the ages. I found the pacing boring and slow until then, though.

I think now that I’m older I can appreciate the story much, much more - and how it shows the story and aftermath of the Mad King’s War from multiple points of view -  but the lack of the support conversations, and too much going on for any aspect of this game to be properly refined, still make this one lower on my list.

If only I could have played it more than once, to really get a good memory of the events of the game. My Wii actually scratched up my disk (How this happened, I don’t know, and it’s the ONLY disk my Wii ever slaughtered). It only held out long enough for my sibling and I to enjoy one playthrough each. I’ll get to playing my Japanese copy eventually!

Part 4 = Laguz Royals Emblem / 10

Somewhere Inbetween Tier

FE5

The last of the Kaga games. Still clunky and difficult, but with it’s own super unique features in capturing, stamina, and stealing weapons.

The brokenness of staves is not at all a flaw, but a feature in my opinion. Encouraging bizarre thinking and finding new ways to plow through maps is fun. I would probably be critical if this was a modern game, but I think older games need these quirks to stand out among modern titles with better graphics and decades of gaming history behind them.

And you still can complete the maps in a more traditional manner if you are determined. I did even for Reinhardt’s map.

Also, I gotta say... I don’t agree that this is the most difficult FE overall… it just has the hardest individual maps. The difficulty spikes are all over the place. The game goes from bashing your head against a wall to snoozefest constantly.

Fog of war was a mistake though, if I was a time traveler, I’d go back and make sure the programmers never figured out how to include it. XD

Steal ALL the tomes! / 10

FE13

Experiencing this game and its release in real time was an experience. The fandom really, truly thought this game might not only be the last FE ever, but also that it might not get a localization. Thinking there would never be a localization, I spent a night of my first trip to Japan buying a Japanese 3DS and a copy of the game. I only had 2 weeks on that study tour, but I was so determined that I used some of my precious free time to go shopping for it. To afford it, I even used the money my college gave to me for food, then subsided off of cheap convenience store meals with what little I had left. I barely had any true understanding of Japanese at the time, but I wanted other fans to experience this game, so I worked as hard as I could to translate as many supports as I could. This game is why I got into translation, and was what I really thought might be the end, so it will always have a special place in my heart for that.

Now to actually talk about playing the game itself. I really enjoyed it the first couple of times. Who cares that pair-up and the kids were OP, you either blast through the game with them and have a good laugh, or ignore them, set some challenging rules, and enjoy having at least a little challenge. I didn’t care much that the supports were a little lower quality because of the sheer number of them, I eagerly awaited unlocking each one, and reading what the two characters would talk about. (We fans have fanfiction to turn to if we hunger for more development. :p) The bonus content was plentiful, and a great fanservice-y way to bring the series to a close.

After all is said and done though, the game left me feeling empty when I thought about replaying it any further. The maps and story felt empty in comparison to previous games. Now that it’s been 8 years since the initial release, I’d of course enjoy a replay or two, but after having played FEs7-9 5 or 6 times in a row before moving on to the next game… anything less than that level of excitement was surprising for me. I placed this game kinda high on the list because it’s fun when you play it. It’s just doesn’t have as much replay value, I feel.

Also, as a group, the children characters are my favorite in the series. They all come from deeply traumatic backgrounds, and the way they work through that trauma and navigate being given a second chance, but also not a true second chance because this timeline is different from their own, is endlessly fascinating for me. I don’t know if other fans give them enough credit, so I wanted to point them out in particular.

Would have been a fantastic way to send off the series, despite the flaws / 10

FE2

This game is flawed, imbalanced, makes me want to throw things, and it’s all, somehow, in a way that makes me LOVE IT. ...So long as I’m playing using an emulator with a speed up button.

This game is so hard, and the hit percentages are such garbage. But as I played, and unlocked more and more OP weapons and items, until I reached a point where the zombie dragons - what once took all my efforts - were an enemy that can easily be slaughtered in 1-on-1 combat... I felt so satisfied.

Old games need some kind of charm to make them still worth revisiting in a world of much better graphics and features that have now had decades to be refined. For me, this game has that perfect kind of quirky charm in spades.

The maps and terrain though… I have no words, just bash your head into the wall and you will understand how I feel.

Also, this game reminds me of Zelda 2 in it being a black sheep of its respective series… that’s a fun little nugget of info.

Duma’s sprite / 10

FE7

I don’t remember this game as well, despite it being one that I’ve played about 5 times? I don’t know why, it’s yet another fantastic Fire Emblem with its own ways that it stands out, managing not one, not two, but three lords, introducing the tactician, and so on. Guess time has just not been kind to my memory on this one.

I remember being really impressed with the length of this game back in the day, and Hector’s mode offering enough differences to make it totally fun to replay the main game again.

Lyn gets kind of pushed to the side (because that’s what generally happens to women main characters in Fire Emblem, if there’s a male lord around), but having the three lords was really fun. With three people, you get a great balance between all of their personalities, and they all play off of each other well.

Of course I loved Lyn and Hector, most everyone does, but I was always just as much of an Eliwood fan. His average stats pushed people away from liking him as much as the others, but I always looked up to his kindness. Eliwood / Ninian was an especially favorite pairing for my sappy teenage heart. Eliwood was just so romantic and sweet to me.

And though the game was made easier with international audiences in mind, the developers hadn’t invented all of the “easier/for convenience” features yet, so this is the last time we got to enjoy some “harder” features like needing to buy weapons during battles, and a convoy separate from the main lord. That’s cool if you like that stuff.

Unlocking the paralogues is hard though / 10

Favorites Tier

FE8

When it comes to FE8, while there’s plenty to like about the gameplay (despite the game being so easy, but again, like I said with Awakening, you can just set your own challenge rules), what I really love to ramble on about is the story and its emotional impact. Lyon is so precious and kind, but has so many inner conflicts stewing deep inside of him, leading him to elder magics, and… The Demon King is just ends up as a sideshow compared to Lyon coming face to face with his own demons. Both the characters - and many players, I’m sure - hope and hope to find a way to save him, but there just isn’t one. There are never any real leads. There’s nothing. Only the harrowing reality that some people cannot be saved, no, that some people do not want to be saved. The inevitability of Lyon’s demise, and seeing it all play out, packs a punch most plots can only dream of.

But it’s not like I won’t talk about the gameplay features either. Bringing back much of the best of FE2, the overworld map and everything to do really enhances the experience. I mean, yeah, I guess two side dungeons isn’t that much to get excited over, I can see that critique… but I didn’t care, it allowed me to easily chase support conversations, and (with some RNG abusing to obtain enough Boots and money to buy the stat-boosting items, but hey, whatever it takes) I could max out my characters’ stats and truly “complete” a Fire Emblem game.

Sacred Stones is so awesome.

Finally! A postgame! I sure hope the developers keep this up in all the future games… oh. / 10

FE9

This is the first FE game I ever played, so it will always occupy the most dear and special place in my heart, even if FE4 eventually won over as my favorite.

Do you believe in first sight? I do, and this is what taught me it’s real. From the first second of the first cutscene, I was enthralled. ...And that’s saying something, when the FE9 cutscenes are the kind of thing only a mother could love. But I just knew. I may have been a wee lass of 14, but I knew a love that would last a lifetime was being born. ...Or that would at least last 14 more years. I can’t predict the future. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and hate Fire Emblem with a burning passion? 2020 has taught me that tomorrow is always a big fat question mark.

Fun fact: in case you are wondering exactly what inspired my very initial interest in this series, it was a TV commercial. Probably this one. I just remember Ike running, of all things. My sibling and I both thought FE9 looked interesting from this commercial, and sought out the game all on our own with zero private knowledge that anything FE even existed.

This is where obsessions are born. Or mine at least. / 10 

FE4

As I’ve established, this is my favorite of favorites. The bizarre way money, arenas, items, and more were handled, actually made the game more and more fun for me. Big maps are just so fun. Gen 1’s story is a tale for the ages, and Gen 2’s story is… well, classic FE, which never gets old for me. It will never cease to amaze me even today what the SNES/S Famicom could handle.

All I’d want added is a “warp between conquered castles” feature. I’m completely neutral on a remake otherwise. Of course a lot more could be added and detailed upon that I’d be happy for, but that’s my one specific wish.

Calvary Emblem Forever / 10

Bonus:

FEH

I played this game every day for around 2 ½ years before I finally felt I had to break the habit, so I’m not leaving it out! This title got a lot of flack for simplifying FE gameplay, but… looking at it that way completely disregards the niche app games fill, and the interesting ways developers view what type of games app games should be, and how the developers work hard to both innovate for the format yet stay faithful to the source. It is surprisingly deep, and the maps + higher focus on unit skills make you think entirely differently about how to win in what is, in essence, the same gameplay as the main series.

Plus, what fan couldn’t get suckered into the fanservice of it? My best moments include attaining a +10 Nephenee while only spending money to get 2 of her, the other 9 were all F2P orbs; and becoming a Narcian/Valter shipper after supporting them on impulse because they were both on my flier team, and realizing the sick, twisted chemistry afterwards. Discovering rare-pairs is fun.

Also, finally, this game dared to nerf magic users a bit by making them RNG 2 only. If only the main series could do something like that.

I really enjoyed Heroes a lot, I just quit solely because it was a time drain. It was time to move on and play other things. And I’m glad I got out when I did. Seeing the game stoop to over-the-top powercreep (above and beyond what it was always implementing) and add the monthly service to keep the $$$$$ raking in was hard to watch.

Perfect app-style game gameplay-wise and fanservice-wise, but why aren’t gacha illegal yet / 10

FE Warriors

Oh yeah, this game exists too! It’s a Warriors game. If you like the formula and it never gets old for you, you’ll have fun with this game. If you don’t mind the limited game representation too much, you’ll have fun with this game. For me, the answers to those questions were a yes, so I enjoyed FE Warriors. Yay for wailing on hordes of enemies / 10

#fire emblem #favorites

[maiuoart]

This is not a promp but I'm so happy you are working on the bara bros!!! Can you say a few headcanons of them?

Ohgoodness; Thank you for being interested in the lil’ tibbits!

Nothing is too cemented yet; I plan to work their area around that of Machine with Past. An example is the game called; Horizon Zero Dawn, but really tweaked to make it make more sense in their world. But I know their personalities are far different than their Regular selves for sure;

Cut because a LOT of information!!

BSF!Papyrus; Hound

-He’s a huge sweetheart, but he can also be a huge shitstarter if he’s bored. -He’s not a huge flirt, he’s actually very calm and relaxed; More silent, even? But when he has his sights on someone, he does tune it up and might even try to constantly hold or hug, an instinct to ‘Protect’ acts up without him fully realizing it.-Really can’t tick this monster off unless you’re being threatening; And even then it’s hard to get him to fully ‘Bare His Fangs’ in a sense.-He prefers to be a night owl; He loves to just lay in the grass to view the stars, or back in his Underground, view everything in Waterfall.-Has the same tired sockets and Golden fang placing on his left side like the Original, but has larger cracks. Difficult to describe his scars, I’ll draw him later~-He gets along well with most of the ‘Trade’ Monsters; Muffet, Gillby, Nice Cream Guy, etc. due to being a ‘Provider’ for them in his spare time.-What he gets them? Well, Meats and other odd items? He is a Traveler, there’s a lot he gets his claws on the rest can use.-Has a bit of a ‘Beast Mode’; where something takes over and he loses himself to the act of his primal instincts if triggered. That trigger is more or less Fear or something to Chase. -Doesn’t have a sweettooth, loves Salt instead

FunFacts; -He’s shares an ability of being stealthy like his brother. Is quick to strike to kill or hold down prey. Is far better being the one at long distances, but can work either way.-Favorite weapon of choice; His claws if he’s close enough, enjoys to have them lined with a sleeping drug. Second choice; Bone Daggers which have long chains attached to hook onto or make swift kills with.-Great tracker, hunter, and both his eyesight and his hearing are far better than most other Monsters; To the point he can pick up mere whispers and see over miles in the dark or foggy areas. -His sense of smell is screwed a bit, though; Can only pick up strong scents, but even then thats difficult for him. -You will not find him inside at all in any place unless the cold is seriously affecting him or his brother simply needs him around, he feels more comfortable within the woods or large forests spaces. And even if you do find him inside a Monster home; He’s a bit more finicky and will call it a case of ‘Cabin Fever’. -The reason he’s an outside dog is due to the fact he had a Lab Accident that caused him a lot of backlash and issues. It isn’t related to his growth, or any of the other Monsters, but it has affected his hands and how he’s very intune with the temperatures, unlike his brother.-He has a case of ‘Shaky Hands’ since the experiment was a failure. He won’t ever tell what he was working on, his brother doesn’t even know, but it was his reason for staying outdoors. It’s also a reason why he will constantly be moving his hands to be playing around with things; Stretching them out, playing with his lighter, a witting knife to just play with; Basically to retrain his hands. -You wouldn’t be able to tell unless you give him something smaller than his palms to hold, cause he will have to focus extra hard to keep his hands from spazzing out in order not to harm the creatures in his grasp. Anything larger, he doesn’t have to worry because his hands might twitch here and there; But they won’t hurt more sturdy ones. He’s just worried about doing an accidental harm on smaller creatures.-Despite the Lab Accident, he still highly enjoys creating things in the Labs. Will go to his Undyne and still help make things; However if it’s with chemicals; He feels a lot better having someone around and going with the list of rules set. He doesn’t trust himself, and his streak for causing havoc was blown out of him, he says.

BSF!Sans; Chance

-Soft spoken and soothing compared to his Original; A habit as to not give away his position or harm his brothers hearing. However; Don’t tick him off, his voice can and will get loud.-Very prickly, snobbish, but can be respectful the first time around, so long as you show it first; He’d be more prone to mirroring your good manners back. If not, be prepared for him to look down on you constantly.-Prefers to be in his Study and read when he has time; Fully enjoys solitude and dislikes being touched unless he issues the contact first.-A Perfectionist and a collector of ‘Unknown’ objects.-Excellent cook, likes to store extra food away due to his hectic schedule so they both aren’t low on magic.-Has a numb outlook on living creatures; If they serve their purpose to him and his, he would prefer to end their lives quickly and painlessly if they are injured. His brother prefers to try and heal them. -Tends to have a fun outlook on Prey and Hostiles; His name is ‘Chance’ for  reason…-Has a Sadistic side, actually enjoys to torture those on enemy lines. -When interested in someone; He is very caring and considerate, but might become a soft flustered idiot if he doesn’t watch himself.-Has two scars over his left socket, where the Original has three.

FunFacts;-His agility is as scary as his accuracy when fighting in close range, though can miss if he’s trying to be stealthy in long distances. Tends to plan something if that issue occurs if his brother isn’t nearby.-Has mild blindness in his left socket.-His favorite weapon of choice are Double Short Swords. Second favorite; Cracking Whip laced with poison. -Makes his own brand of Tea; Can’t stand being without it or a substitute; Or his grouch levels rise hard.-Morning Bird, nothing abnormal about that.-Cannot feel temperatures; Cold doesn’t phase him like it does for his brother. Despite that, Chance is always waking up being tucked into his covered when he sleeps on top of them.

Both brothers Magics don’t have temperatures like their Originals; Where Mutt has a ‘Bonfire’ type while Regal has a ‘Chilly Rain’ type. Their Magic is simple in feeling; Hounds has a a heavy ‘Caged Beast’ while Chance has a ‘Calm Before The Storm’ type.

I do believe, at this moment, thats how the two brothers be? A bit more polished than the Originals, I will say xD 

Thanks for reading!

#Bara!Swapfell Talk #Bara!Swapfell #Bara!Swapfell Red #BSF #Mai Rambles #Mai Talks #Mai Replies #Nonner Asks #BSF!Sans #BSF!Papyrus #Baras be Hunters