#so i'd say yes it's reached that level but in different words

[silverskye13]

Cursed/turned into an animal Tanguish, make him actually a cat

"How do these things happen to you?" Helsknight asked, crouching down on the balls of his feet so he was closer to Tanguish's level. Closer, but not on his level, as Tanguish, by some clever, terrible miracle, had been transformed into a cat. He was a handsome enough little creature, all blue-black, with a handful of sparse white hairs that salted his back and shoulders. But there was a large difference between handsome little cat and the full helsmet he was supposed to be, and Tanguish was, understandably, he thought, upset about his current circumstances. Even more upset now, given Helsknight seemed incapable of taking it seriously. "No really, I'd like to know. If I make an offering to whatever god or saint you pissed off, they might pass me over."

Oh haha, very funny, Tanguish said. Or he tried to say. What actually came out of his cat-shaped mouth, which made itself unavailable to forming human words, was a string of yowls that conveyed vague allusions to indignation. His fur spiked up his back for good measure, and he flattened his ears, just in case Helsknight needed the extra hint.

"I don't speak cat," Helsknight informed him helpfully, crossing his arms on his knees and raising his eyebrows in an amused expression. "You know, I've always been more of a dog person. Matches my aesthetic better. Do you think you could shape shift into something a little more intimidating? Even a large cat would do. You're a bit too scrawny and gangled, if I'm being honest."

Tanguish rumbled back a growl that he hoped would sound fierce and insulted.

"I'm terrified, truly," Helsknight informed him patronizingly. "Would a sardine help soothe your temper, O Mighty Feline? Maybe some cream?"

Tanguish swatted at him, tiny, impotent claws raking across Helsknight's boot.

"Hey now, be grateful," Helsknight tsked disdainfully. "Cream and sardines are an expensive find in hels. Probably worth your tiny cat weight in diamonds."

Tanguish huffed a sigh out of his nose, and then sneezed when the sensation tickled his whiskers. He was still getting used to whiskers. A tail and claws he was used to. The eyes weren't so good as his sculk sight, but not so different that it took a lot of adjusting. No, it was the whiskers that made his body feel the most awkward, little strings attached to his face that made him feel like he was constantly in danger of getting stuck somewhere, only to realize no, he'd just walked a little too close to a wall. It was his whiskers that told him, while he pawed miserably at his nose, that Helsknight had reached for him. Before he could jump away, Helsknight had picked him up by the scruff and tossed him on a pauldroned shoulder like he was nothing.

"So I guess we'll start with a quick prayer to my Saint," Helsknight sighed, "and then we'll start visiting alters until some priest comes up with a solution. Have you tried respawning yet? No, don't hiss at me. I don't know what that means. Just meow once for yes and do that weird growl-thing for no. So have you tried-- no, didn't think so. Put the claws back Tanguish, I'm not going to kill you. Killing cats is bad luck."

Tanguish snorted indignantly again, and then sneezed again, and at least got some satisfaction at the disgusted look Helsknight flashed in his direction.

"Sneeze somewhere other than my ear next time please."

Tanguish growled.

"I'm sorry, was that a no?"

He meowed brightly.

"You know, you've got at least nine lives. I'm sure my Saint will forgive me if I wring one out of you."

Tanguish swatted him on the side of the face. If Helsknight was bothered, he didn't show it. Instead he walked off down the street, clearly intent on his plan that Tanguish was sure wouldn't work, but they might as well try. Under his breath Helsknight hummed:

"There's an old poem about cats and monks. Can't really remember the lyrics. Something like... Pangur, white Pangur."

Helsknight chuckled.

"Tanguish, O Tanguish, how happy we are. Alone together, warrior and cat."

Tanguish settled down on the knight's shoulder, tail held out stubbornly for balance as he strolled down the street. He had to dig his claws in to Helsknight's cape to keep from falling off, but at least if was warm place to sit.

"Each has his own work to do daily; For you it is hunting, for me, slaying. Your shining eye watches the wall; My fair eye is fixed on a blade. You rejoice when your claws entrap a mouse; I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem. Pleased with his own art neither hinders the other; Thus we live ever without tedium and envy. Tanguish, O Tanguish, how happy we are, alone together, warrior and-- are you purring? That's hilarious."

Tanguish, who hadn't realized he was purring, stopped abruptly, feeling vaguely betrayed by his own contentment. He swatted Helsknight's face, careful to keep his claws sheathed.

"What? It's not my fault you can't keep your little cat noises to yourself -- stop swatting at me! That's rude. Do it again and you can run your little paws off through town all on your own."

#Situations Asks #lindentree #this was adorable ahaha #rns ficlet

[catrasredemption]

Sometimes I feel like people just... fundamentally misunderstand who Catra is? Or they don't know how to interpret tones? I saw a post railing on Catra about calling Adora an idiot and how cruel it is, and I'm like... there's a difference between idiot (insult) and idiot (affectionate) and the fact that people don't get that is bizarre to me? And I'm not just making excuses - I know so many people who are like this. I have a friend who will routinely tell people to get out when they do something exasperating, or ask "what the fuck is wrong with you" and no one ever takes it seriously because she's not serious. It's honestly a very common love language.

"Oh but Save the Cat-"

Listen Catra had every right to call her an idiot after finding out that not only did Adora not listen to her about not going to Prime's ship, but realizing that she never really gave up on Catra even when Catra gave up on herself. And Adora's response is to laugh, because she knows what Catra is really saying - I can't believe you came back for me, I can't believe you didn't listen to me. And Adora's response is basically Yeah it's crazy isn't it?

"In Taking Control Adora calls herself an idiot, she's internalized it from Catra."

Listen. Listen. Adora grew up in the Horde. She internalized a lot of shit. As far as thinking she's an idiot goes, though - I don't think that's from Catra. She's exasperated at herself and mad at Catra and she uses vocabulary she's familiar with. Have you ever noticed how much Adora and Catra repeat the things Shadow Weaver said to them?

(also, yes, Adora is in fact being kind of an idiot in that scene because both of them are emotionally stunted at whatever level they reached before Adora found the sword. They default back to their normal behavior because it's familiar and wholly unhealthy and they can't move on until they both learn that.)

I'd have to go back and watch the entire series again, but afaik there's no instance of Catra using the word idiot to actively insult someone (mayyyyybe Hordak?). She throws around useless and pathetic a lot because she learned from the best (Shadow Weaver), but not usually idiot.

"You just don't like criticism against your favorite character."

Partially true. I don't like criticism that's based on a completely inaccurate interpretation of what was happening on the screen. Give me something besides "omg Catra is the worst" and we'll talk.

#Sam's Meta

[utilitycaster]

if you're looking for any reason to write and/or procrastinate, i'd love to hear your alluded-to thoughts on people trying to shove already-extant blorbos into a ttrpg space? it's something i've tried to Strongly Discourage (if not outright ban) at my table and i've struggled putting into words why i dislike it so much. like obviously as a dm doing homebrew world stuff it's super discouraging to feel like your players don't want to engage with it, but even beyond that it feels like it doesn't Work and i'd love to hear if you have thoughts on Why That Is

Absolutely! The biggest reason is in fact the one you say: it's really discouraging as a DM, who is doing a lot more work than anyone else, to have someone not want to build a character informed by your world. This is collaborative storytelling, and they are not collaborating. Which isn't to say that player's preferences for the type of story shouldn't be considered, but there is something very different between, for example, Erika Ishii saying "hey Brennan, I would love to play a witch" in a setting everyone in the cast committed to building collaboratively, vs. coming to your table as a DM saying "hey, this is a world I've created, it is inspired by Norse mythology" and saying "cool this is my weird west cowboy OC, why isn't there a cowboy class."

I think the other reason, and here's where I might be guessing, but I think people can get uniquely rigid and protective of pre-existing OCs. I mean...I had a vague set of OCs inspired by a lot of the fantasy stories I read as a kid for literal years, and setting aside that they don't fit in neatly to a D&D system anyway, the thought of playing one and having them die at level 2 against some will-o-the-wisps is really not something I'm open to! When it comes to a lot of the games that have character progression and start relatively weak, like D&D, most people are thinking of a cool powerful mage, not a squishy L1 wizard with 2 spell slots! I think people are precious and impatient and rigid about a lot of their OCs, so they won't take the big swings that you need to make in order to have a good time in a TTRPG because they're too afraid of losing the character before they reach their final form - and, they have a final form in mind that they might be reluctant to deviate from. Sure, some people can get past this; but many people can't. They already have too much of a story in mind and aren't open to the one being told together at the table. They won't kill their darlings and so they're going to freak out every time Darling has to make a death save.

Finally: I personally think character creation is necessarily collaborative, in that party composition is important. To give an example: I have an idea of an Eldritch Knight who learned her magic from the eccentric wizard she guarded, who then died in a locked room mystery, and she was exonerated but considered suspect (and also felt guilty) and so is in need of employment and could easily fall into adventuring. This is a pretty flexible concept in most D&D settings because a lot of the specifics aren't at all filled in. However: let's say my friend says "hey, um, one of our players had a family emergency and needs to leave our game long-term. Do you want to join?" and I say "yes, absolutely" and they say "great, they were playing a bard and were our only healer, though we do have a warlock who can be the party face," I should not play the eldritch knight with no healing! It is in fact my responsibility to roll up with, say, a cleric!

So that's really why: you can and should bring vague concepts you want to explore to a table, but you really shouldn't pick from a fully fleshed out OC because that doesn't engage with the setting nor what the party needs.

#answered #uglywizardhat

[george-weasleys-girl]

North Star Series

Chapter 46: The Discovery

Start here:

Summary: Molly finds out George and Y/N eloped.

~•~

"I could just cast the Obliviate charm on you if that'd help - "

"Don't you dare Fred Weasley!" Molly yelled, then returned her glare back to George and Y/N. "I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU'D JUST RUN OFF AND ELOPE! OF ALL THE - "

Mrs. Weasley had been ranting for the better part of ten minutes, while the trio sat silently, hoping she'd run out of steam soon. But at those words, George jumped up, cutting off his mother's tirade.

"Excuse me?! What right do you have getting angry at us for eloping when you and dad did the same thing?" George asked. "I would've thought that you of all people would understand!"

Molly froze, all the color draining from her face. For a moment, they thought she might start ranting again, but instead heaved a heavy sigh and slumped down into the kitchen chair, defeated.

"It was different back then," she said.

"Oh, what with a war going on?" George snapped. "Yeah, we wouldn't know what that's like."

Molly stared at her son for a few long moments before speaking again. "We didn't have a ceremony planned. You do."

"Yes. And?" George asked, crossing his arms.

"We're still going to have ceremony," Y/N said softly. "That hasn't changed."

"Does anyone else know?" Molly sighed.

"Just us three," Fred chimed in. "Well, now us four."

Mrs. Weasley went silent again, then turned and leveled her eyes at Y/N. "What would your grandmother say if she found out?"

"She wouldn't care," Y/N leaned back in her seat. "She just wants me to be happy."

Molly huffed and rolled her eyes. She knew she was being childish about the whole thing. But George was her first child to marry, and she wanted so much to be there when it actually happened. The knowledge that she'd been left out hurt. More than she could ever have imagined. For the first time in her life, she finally understood her own mum's disappointment when she and Arthur ran off and eloped.

"Well, I just don't see the point of eloping when your wedding is just around the corner," she said, rolling up her parchment of ideas. "No point in going over all this since the two of you are going to do whatever you want anyway."

"Mum - " George began, but Molly held up her hand.

"I'm happy for you two," she said quietly, grabbing her shawl. "Now I need to get back. I'm behind on the housework."

"Hey, hold up, mum," Fred stood and grabbed his coat. "I promised dad I'd apparate with you back to the house."

~•~

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Molly asked as soon as they stepped into the kitchen.

"Sure, mum," Fred replied, sitting down. "That'd be great."

Molly nodded and turned to put the kettle on. Once her attention was focused on the task at hand, the older twin reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wand, pointing it directly at Molly. "Oblivate," he whispered.

In an instant, he watched his mother go from silent and sullen to humming her favorite tune and practically bouncing through the kitchen.

"I simply can't wait for George and Y/N's wedding," she said, turning back to Fred.

~•~

"Me too, mum," he smiled. "Me too."

~•~

Next chapter:

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite

@smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @ceehance @whotfskai @sierraluvzz @now-that-we-dontalk @moonatician @lillisummers

#george weasley #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley x reader #north star series #hp fandom #hp universe

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on 23rd February, 1987

Freddie Mercury released his 7th solo single ”The Great Pretender”/ "Exercises In Free Love" - Successful, reaching No4 in charts.

David Wigg: Do you feel in um, that you have been, that you're, you said you feel you're re-living your life, do you feel you've been the big pretender?

Freddie Mercury: Basically it's, it's what the song really says is a very sort of one to one basis about, that he's pretending because she's um, gone, but he's still pretending that she's still around, basically that's (David: yes) but I thought that you could sort of take it a lot further in, just in the word 'pretender', (David: yes) so that, so that pretence, and for me, the way I'm doing this is that, you know it's tongue-in-cheek and not to take everything too seriously, that all these sort of visuals and these sort of, these images that I've portrayed over the years, is a kind of pretence, because I mean there's no way that I was real on stage, these, I, I wore costumes and I sort of put myself into different atmospheres and different characters, but underneath all that there is a real me which, you know, so, so I just thought why not, you know, I, I've been pretending all this time, you know, doing all this stuff, wearing my bananas on my head, you know, coming on peoples shoulders, wearing glitter, doing this, doing glam, wearing, you know, wearing, it was all, kind of thing, and it's, it's a kind of pretence, yes, whereas I mean, you know, underneath it I'm still, you know, a musician and so I thought I'd, I'd bring it up to the, in that level, where all these sort of costumes, where a lot of people took it so seriously, well I didn't, you know, give a damn, I just thought my God, you know, and they read far too much into it, I just thought that this is a nice way of sort of um, covering this whole sort of era of mine, call it, and um, say that look, it, it's just been a bit of fun, you know actors don't, I know, they portray somebody, they don't become those people, they go back and do something else, you know

- Freddie Mercury interview, Ibiza 1987

by David Wigg

Songs:

- ”The Great Pretender” cover version of The Platters’ 1955 original

- "Exercises In Free Love" written by Freddie Mercury / Mike Moran

Written by Freddie as his impersonation of Montserrat's vocal style. She was so enamored with the song that she insisted on recording her own version. The melody was later reused for 'Ensueño', with a set of lyrics written by Montserrat

📸 Photo by Richard Young

#1987 #the great pretender #the platters #1956 #exercises in free love #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #richard young #montserrat caballé #david wigg #interview #Spotify

[saltydumplings]

Snippet #21

Cw: minor character death, a lil blood, lightly suggestive towards the end.

The scientist still couldn't believe how all of their colleagues had turned the opportunity down. This was one of the most exciting discoveries in, well, ever and their fellow researchers were too scared to even talk to it!

The monster cocked it's head to the side as the scientist held out a card from the deck, the both of them sat on opposite sides of a small table - the scientist's clipboard and pen the only other items between them. The thing looked human. Spoke and walked pretty much like any other person the scientist had met. But there was just something about it that felt...bigger. Everyone who came into contact with it said the same thing - said that they felt like there was something they weren't seeing.

"Circle," the monster said decidedly, smiling when the scientist raised their brows and made a note of it on the paper in front of them.

They didn't tell the creature whether the answer had been right or not but, given that all of the monster's guesses so far had been correct, they felt like they didn't need to bother. They couldn't even really call it guessing at this point - the monster knew the answer. Knew it every single time even though there wasn't any possible way for it to. The deck had been shuffled thoroughly, there were no reflective surfaces and the back of the card was completely opaque.

Still the scientist drew another card, and still the monster got it right.

"It's a sun," it said.

The human frowned at the wording a little, taking an extra note next to the one that marked whether the subject had got the answer right or not.

"Do you have only one?" the monster asked then, almost seeming to read their thoughts.

The scientist startled - always astounded by how the other read them so well. "You don't?" they questioned back.

The monster shook it's head. "We have three."

Oh, wow. The more the scientist discovered the more curious they grew. They wanted to ask more but they knew the monster would only answer them when it chose to - seemed to like it more when the human figured something out for themself, looking at them with something in its eyes that the human couldn't distinguish between pride or satisfaction.

The monster was strange like that. Strange in many ways really. But it was the smaller things that intrigued the human: the details like how the creature seemed to prefer being referenced to by 'it' as opposed to any other pronouns. And the scientist felt they hadn't chosen it because they'd liked that one best but rather because it was the rarer one to be called. The one that seemed most separate from the rest - the monster seemed to want to put itself on a level that was different from humans.

"Are we done with the cards now?"

The scientist glanced down at the notes they'd taken and nodded. "Given that you've got every single one of them right and will likely continue to get them right?" They picked up their stuff from the table, making sure they'd got everything in hand. "Yes, I'd say we're done with the cards."

The monster grinned happily, rising along with the human as the other swiped their ID over a nearby scanner, the door to the room gliding open. They walked down a narrow corridor, passing by two guards before reaching their next destination. This was seemingly the creature's favourite part: exploring the scientist's office. It found something new to interest itself with every time, whether it was the desk or the plants or the fun little metallic statue that managed to remain balanced despite the way it constantly wobbled. This time it appeared to be the cabinets that had taken its interest. The monster opened one of the drawers and started perusing through the files there as the scientist sat down, ready to write up the day's report.

It wasn't supposed to be in there with them. Not really. The guards that were stationed around the building hated it - didn't like the idea that the creature had some kind of freedom to roam but at the end of the day the scientist had the final say and they didn't mind in the least. Actually, they felt there was something they could learn from it.

They simply didn't know what yet.

The human started summarising their findings with the sound of the monster ruffling through papers behind them, occasionally taking some out to read over before carefully putting them back. It never broke anything - always gentle with what it touched. The scientist heard the file drawers closing and suddenly the monster was at their back, that feeling of something larger tingling at the edge of their senses.

"You humans like labelling things, don't you?" the monster observed. "You like ordering them in files and folders - putting them away in neat little boxes."

The scientist paused when they felt the other leaning over them, the feeling of the monster's hot breath against their neck enough to make them shudder.

"I suppose we do," they said after some thought. "It's funny really: we seem to hate what we don't understand yet always crave something to understand. It's satisfying to us. I think it's also to do with communication - we're largely social so we need to be able to talk to each other. Boxes help with that; labels let us describe things."

The monster hummed, thinking. "But what if you can't understand something?"

The scientist put their pen down, turning their chair to stare up at the other. "Then we simply understand it to an extent - break it down into theories and possibilities that we can make sense of."

"And you both hate and love discovering new things?"

"Oh, discoveries can be terrible and fantastic at the same time," the scientist said with a small chuckle. "Especially ones we don't fully understand yet. Take yourself for example: my colleagues are all terrified of you. You could single-handedly change every box we've ever made: you may fit into some and not into others, perhaps you fit into multiple but perhaps the combination doesn't make sense. Maybe you fit into none. Maybe we need new boxes - boxes we've never even thought of before. It's exciting - terrifying, yes: oh god, you could undermine years' worth of theories with a single breath but that's half the joy of it! Your existence is crazy and wonderful and confusing and a potential threat to everything we've ever created all at once."

A pause.

The monster clicked its tongue in thought, staring at the scientist before it intently. Like so many times before it cocked its head to the side, studying the form of the human with sharp eyes.

"You're not like most of your species, are you?" it questioned.

The scientist flushed a little and went to turn back around with a small wave of their hand, suddenly eager to get back to their report. "Well, biologically I'm quite common but...I mean, personally, I suppose we're all unique in our own ways."

They'd barely picked up their pen when the monster spun the chair back around, the human gulping slightly as they found the creature closer to them than before.

"But you are more unique."

It wasn't a question. The monster had come to a conclusion and the human couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or not. They sensed something had shifted within the other - some secret decision being made right then as they spoke.

"I-I couldn't really say." The scientist stammered as the blinds of their office closed all by themself, the guards outside no longer able to see within. "Being unique is more of an opinion than anything else--"

"Being unique is objective," the monster argued back. "You, Scientist, know that well. To be unique is to be an outlier, and you are an outlier."

The human's eyes narrowed slightly, trying to determine what the other's goal was here. It seemed to be building up to something, but the scientist could hardly begin to guess what - the monster's motives so deeply hidden they doubted that they could even truly scratch the surface.

They jumped as two guards burst through the door, guns immediately directed at it. The scientist turned in alarm, about to instruct them that they were alright - that they could put their guns down - but the second they opened their mouth to speak blood splattered across their face. The scientist gaped in shock, the two bodies dropping down faster than anything they'd ever seen but that wasn't what held their attention. It should have been. They should have run, they should have screamed, but no: they just sat there, unmoving, eyes fixed upon the thing that had killed them.

An appendage of sorts - seemingly connected to the monster's back and tentacle-like in nature. It was dark green, though in some places its shade was almost gray or black, and the light bounced off it as though it was wet.

The human watched as the monster reeled it back in, pausing to present it right in front of them. Their heart was racing in their chest, eyes a little watery from shock but they couldn't stop themself from reaching out - two men had just died and still their curiosity won out over their fear. They touched it: fingers running softly over the appendige's length and finding it to be smooth and soft, flexible like a snake or vine. The thing suddenly stiffened and they flinched back out of surprise before moving in to inspect it once more, the tentacle's surface now more alike to metal - the end sharp like a spear, pointed and lethal. The thing softened again and wrapped around their hand, the human letting it with little fuss and simply watching as it travelled slowly down their arm.

"Fascinating."

The word fell between them heavily - the meaning of it intense in its implications. Because it was not the scientist who had said it: it was the monster who had spoken.

"I just killed two of your own kind," it said, "and still you'd rather study me than run."

The human gasped as more appendages sprung from the monster's back - wrapping around their waist and legs and soon lifting them from their seat, its hands coming up to brush against the scientist's cheeks, trailing down their jaw and neck and then back up to card through their hair as if it was the one doing the inspecting.

"You know, where I come from, I'm something of a scientist myself," the monster confessed. "We thought we knew it all and then just like that: dimension travel. Worlds and species that we had no knowledge of." Its curiosity led it further downwards, taking the human's hand into its own and following along the lines of their palm. "You look like us, but you're so different. So peculiar in nature - your evolution is baffling to me."

The scientist huffed a small laugh at that: all this time spent studying the monster only to find the other had been studying them back. It was ironic in a way. Beautiful in another.

"And do I fit your boxes?" the human asked curiously.

The monster's focus shifted from their hand back to their face, its touch trailing upwards once more as it traced its thumb over their bottom lip, watching avidly as the human's cheeks tinted red.

"No," the monster concluded, grin sharp when the human's blush deepened - its thumb pushing into their mouth to explore blunt teeth and a soft, round tongue that was so delightfully different from its own. "No, you don't..."

#writing snippet #humanxmonster snippet #human x monster #monster x human #scientist x monster

[rainbowdaisy13]

I agree that you must look into the story that is kaylor alone and draw your own conclusions. I don't think any person could've convinced me if I didn't arrive at this conclusion on my own. If you look into it and you reach a different resolve that's fine. But what it's not fine is wasting your time attacking people who harm no one, following what they think it's a beautiful story behind the curtain. What's also not fine is attacking a women you never met to "defend" the biggest pop star right now.

Even if you think Taylor hates Karlie, I promise you Taylor does not need you to defend her. Taylor does not need you to clout chase for acceptance by joining the pathetic, low level bandwagon of hating Karlie. If you do that, you're the lowest of the low because you attack someone you know won't clap back. None of these people would dare say anything to Karlie's face. She was in a stadium of 70.000. Many haters in that crowd & you know what they were doing? Twitting about it, spitting hate, none of them walked up to her. They would block people who told them "you'd never say that to her face" because they knew they wouldn't. I even see Karlie haters who meet her in NY, brag about their pleasant interactions and how welcoming she was to them and then go on to hate her the next day. It's sad seeing how many Gaylors have become so hateful thinking it pleases Taylor. It doesn't, it makes her care less & less. Over the years lsk kaylors have stayed the sweetest people in this community. Even if I didn't believe in lsk, these are people I'd want in my real life circles because in other circles of the fandom I felt uneasy, being faced with a hypocrisy & bitterness.

10000000%

Not a one said a fucking word to her because they are all pussy ass bitches in real life—wouldn’t bust a grape in a food fight—the same thing happened to me at Eras when I wore GAYLOR on the back of my belt—not a single person said anything to me but I’m sure my ass was in a handful of snaps talking shit

And yes I will never understand why they think Taylor needs their help via shit talking and doxxing online—the closest she’s ever gotten to telling them to fuck off was my eras night in Mpls when she did that little speech before Dear John—but it didn’t make a dent in their brains, they still went after JM that night

And absolutely this corner of the fandom is really the only reason I have decided to stick around—smartest, most detailed oriented, most mature Taylor fans I have come across in the last 7 years

[siasthoughts]

« SOFT SERVE »

CONCEPT; VIOLENCE FIEND AND KOBENI GETTING ICE CREAM AFTER WORK.

TOPICS/CONTENTS; GALGABENI . KOBENI X VIOLENCE . FLUFF . TENDER KISSES . COMFORTING

SOMEBODY GET THEM OUT OF MY HEADDD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭😭

WORD COUNT; 645

they just got off work, and kobeni's stress levels were off the roof. violence picked up on this, and asked if they wanted to get some ice cream. kobeni looked up at him with pitiful eyes and smiled, "yes, of course..."

they walked to the front of the usual store they go to, and entering to be met with the sugary smell of sweets. "do you want to try something different aside from vanilla today?" violence asked, taking the table next to the window first. kobeni follows, "s-sure!" she smiled nervously as she kept her body closed together, her shoulders cautiously raised with her fists against the seat.

"mint chocolate? cotton candy? there's a lot!" violence gets the menu and brings it to their table, "doesn't have to only be ice cream either, you can get anything, it's on me!"

"but... you're the one who's always treating me to things..." kobeni looked down at her lap in shame as violence sits down, pushing the menu toward her, "and? it's out of sincerity! don't worry so much." he said enthusiastically. kobeni pursed her lips together, swallowing her words and nodding softly. "o-okay... i want to try the- uh..." her eyes scan the menu, looking over the many varieties of sweets and pastries and feeling overwhelmed with the options, "i'll try the red velvet cake!" she beams, looking at him and realizing her sudden burst of energy and apologizes.

"why are you apologizing? it's adorable! smile more, it suits you." violence slightly tilts his head, smiling under his mask. kobeni's eyes widen at the compliment, getting flustered and failing to hide the smile painting her face. "t-thank you, and i also want to have a... mango smoothie for a drink." her finger stops at the smoothie section of the menu. "alright, red velvet and mango smoothie it is!" he says, standing up to head to the counter to order.

kobeni's eyes follow his movements, "violence can't eat because of his mask and power..." she thinks, feeling sorry for him as she fidgets with her fingers. after a quick minute, violence comes back with the beautiful, moist cake and mango smoothie in his hands, placing it in front of her. her eyes glimmer with excitement, and this was enough to make violence feel full. her eyes speak to him in some way that fulfills his needs, though he wishes he could do the same for her, to speak to her through his expressions. his head lowers a bit at the thought, "violence, is something wrong?" kobeni questions, looking at him empathetically.

"no, nothing, it's alright. go eat!" he voices, watching her smile and go on to eating. she was beautiful, he was grateful for having experienced even just being with her, this was better than not having met at all. as she eats away at the sweetness of the cake, his eyes eat away at her presence. observing her features, the two moles marking the under of her left eye, the way her hair falls just above her eyes...

kobeni raises her head to meet his eyes again, "thank you so much for treating me again! one day, i'll hope to repay you!" she joyfully said, a velvet crumb and frosting sticking on the corner of her lips, "you don't have to!" violence quickly replies, taking a tissue from the box on the side of the table, reaching for her face to wipe off the frosting and crumb. her face heats up at the sudden action, "d-do you want a bite? i mean lifting your mask just a bit won't cause any trouble right?" she suggests. "i'd... rather not risk it." he softly states, "i appreciate the offer though!"

she finishes the cake and drink just as they talk and laugh, they both slowly, and silently realize that this is the closest they'd get to peace. being with eachother.

THIS IS QUICK AND RUSHED AGAIN BCZ I WANNA MAKE A RAFAYEL FIC SO BADDD

#chainsaw man #kobeni x violence #csm kobeni #galgabeni #csm #fanfic #Spotify

[aro-pancake-writes]

As I have brain rots of one Sam Coe, just watched Kinky Boots, and I'm a bit of a sucker for fashion, let's do this.

Spoilers for the main quest.

AFAB/NB Dusty.

Also, Dusty is smol, somewhat curvy, but hides their body with looser clothes.

(the song I listened to while finishing this up)

"So, the Lounge. Are you sure about this?" Sam asks me, waiting at our rented room at the Volii hotel, while I finish getting ready in the bathroom.

"Yes, cowboy." I say, touching up the last details of my makeup and adding another layer of hairspray on my hair. It took long enough to make, and like hell it'll fall at the first chance it gets. "We gotta get the VIP balcony for Walter. It's not my fault that they decided to make this damn meeting at the lounge." Tho I'd never admit aloud that I'm loving the chance to dress up a bit. It's been so long.

Taking a seat on a stool, I put on the high heel boots and zipping it up. It's sparkles and sequins all over, matching the short red and black dress. It's unusual, different from anything I've had since leaving Neon.

The dress is tight, barely long enough to reach the middle of my tights and cover what really matters, the bust almost has my breasts popping out. A stark contrast to the working boots and cargo pants I've grown used to.

Taking in a deep breath, I get up. It takes a moment to find my footing again after so long, but it's as natural as before after a couple steps. I'm ready to face the world.

~~~

There's the sound of heels on the metal floor, as they step out of the bathroom.

"So you're ready to-" Sam turns to look at the captain, and stops. He'd never known they could dress up like that.

His gaze is burning, making them regret the choice of clothing and covering their breasts with their arms, taking a step back into the bathroom to change into their usual clothes.

"You look..." Like someone straight out of his wet dreams. He's looking for words, feeling his pants getting tight and about to burst. "Amazing."

It makes them stop mid-step. He likes it. He has a lot in his mind, and none of it include leaving this room before someone comes charging for it.

"I'll just change to something else..." They start, turning away from him. "It was a dumb ideia."

"Don't you fucking dare to change." He pulls them back against his body by the waist. The heels make up for the usual height difference between the two of them, putting their hips level up with his perfectly.

They take in a second to process his words, the way he's holding on to them, and the... That's not his pistol in his pocket.

"You'll stay right in those clothes. But I'll have to be close to you all night, darling." He's possessive when whispering in their ear. "If anyone else touches you, I might go feral."

~~~

Leaning into his touch, I allow myself to smile. I've wanted him to look at me as more than just the captain for a long time now. And it feels conflicting. I also want him to look at me in my normal self, but this attention feels great.

"We gotta go, Cowboy." I say, stepping away from his grip. If I stay there, we might not leave this room.

He grunts as I open the door, heading out to the elevator.

The city is exactly the same, at all hours. So we go straight to the Lounge.

Despite the overly possessive cowboy keeping a hand on my waist all the way, there are still glances and people catcalling me. Some back off when Sam looks at them sideways, others require a growl, but there's one, at the door to the lounge. He stops right before us, smiling at me.

"Hey there girly." He stinks of fish and Aurora. Of course. "Bet ya I can do you better than Laredo here."

"Don't think so." I say, grossed out and pulling Sam to go around the guy instead of buying a fight.

Not that we could get inside before he wrapped a hand on my arm, pulling me from Sam's arms.

"Are ya sure? I'd love to know how much he's paying for you, then." Paying? Do I really look like...

My train of thought is cut by me falling into Sam's comforting arms, and the man on the floor with a hand on his chin.

"Please, sir," Sam's politeness is uncanny, "do refrain from touching my partner. They're already taken."

Before there can be any answer, we're slipping into the lounge. I hold on tight to Sam's hand, not wanting to get lost from him.

I want to make a beeline for the bar and get us that VIP room, but I'm held back in the middle of the floor. Turning back to Sam, who pulls me up against his body and into a dance, I'm about to melt.

No. I need to remember what I'm here for, and it's not to dance with the cowboy.

I try again to make my way to the bar, but I'm held there as he moves against me.

"Darling, we need to make it like we're not here on business." He whispers in my ear, and I really need to step away from him. But, he's right. Pleasure before business is the way things go here.

One drink, two drinks, a dance, and I'm confident that I can order that VIP room.

Sam keeps me at his hip as we go back to the bar. I have my face on his neck, basking in his scent as he talks to the bartender about the room.

There's laughter from the bartender, and I look at him.

"You don't feel like giving us a show, then?" His question makes me blush. "Here. Go on. You'll enjoy it."

I take the key and we leave the bar with a bottle of vodka.

The room is quieter, comfortable with a sofa and a large window overlooking the dancefloor.

I hear the door closing, and find Sam stalking me like a predator. He's hungry, and I'm the only meal be wants. I watch, standing in the middle of the room, as he sits on the sofa and gestures for me to join him, sit on his legs.

I go, taking slow steps, and turn to sit next to him.

He's not taking it.

"Not now, Sam." I say when he tries pulling me up. "We still have to leave here at some point, and I'd rather not have a cleaning bill."

"And I'm willing to pay for it. But whatever you're comfortable with, darling." It's his turn to lean into my neck, laying soft kisses and bites. "We can go back to the hotel right now. What do you say?"

He leans back, looking into my eyes, and I kiss him. It's our first kiss, and no one would say do on the way we've been touching eachother for... Months now. The soft caresses, looking for any excuse to touch, any reason to be near...

"Let's go then." I get up, ready to leave this place, the loud music and flashing lights.

"Just one thing first." He stops me with a hand on mine. "Don't want you to be cold out there." He places his jacket on my shoulders. Damn thing is bigger than my dress.

I slip the jacket on, taking a second to enjoy the scent of leather and Sam it bears.

#starfield sam coe #sam coe #starfield neon #starfield #spacefarer x sam coe #coemancer #Spotify

[writing-and-rebloging]

Do you also believe that the are fallen angels in WHB?

(yes this the same person ,who keeps asking every blog about the game ,it’s fun knowing people opinion while we wait for the game ,don’t know if it’s seen as annoying though)

Lucifer regions name is called Paradise Lost ,which is very interesting for me a,and that most of his underlings are covered in bandages.

And I think Gabriel knows more than he lets on ,but idk ,maybe he has no knowledge about Gods whereabouts.

It's not annoying at all! It's lovely that you do that, keeps all of us hyped and all, plus, it really is fun seeing the different responses and opinions. So, ask away whatever and whenever you want!

This is, again, long, and... Uh, cw for biblical stuff, too? Ig? Now!

As for the fallen angels... I have conflicted thoughts about it. On one hand, we know that God created angels, and made them love only him, blindly, to the point of them being hardcore yanderes. Very poor decision making there, give them a hobbie or something, otherwise they'll get overwhelming, you know? Point being, angels suffocated him, so he went and created devils, or demons dealers choice for words. Which is the first (and probably bigger) departure from biblical mythos as far as I'm aware.

Now, do keep in mind that while I know a lot of the common knowledge, grew-up-surrounded-by-catholicism things, I have never actually read the Bible past some audio cassettes I had when I was... In kindergarten or so, and thus might have some things wildly off, however... Demons were originally just sort of there, the bad and evil, the shadows and temptations every good christian fought against, and were opposing God, his teachings and love. Angels fell from grace and turned into demons themselves, dedicated to corrupting humankind and stealing their souls. Right? God didn't create them, he was actively seeking to banish them from existance in the eternal fight of good and evil. But, in WHB, they are created by God himself, who seeked less obsessive company. I suppose they're still opposed, freely going about life vs obsessively reaching for the target of their affection, an interesting parallel shown in how angels dealt with God's disappearance vs how demons dealt with Solomon's, but there's no longer an element of falling from grace, so I'd say that fundamentally and going from that train of thought... No, there aren't fallen angels? At least, not in the traditional sense I would understand it.

On the other hand, we do see there's a seed that can force a demon to turn into an angel (how, or what changes it creates, I have no idea), so the opposite should also be true, angels should be able to turn into demons, thus making the statement that fallen angels do exist true. We'll probably see some of this early on thanks to Gabriel getting caught and apparently ending up siding with us one way or another (unless he's one of the makes no sense but you can buy his card and use him on your battlefield type), be it from his doubt, actually "falling" and/or some impressive mental gymnastics.

Breaking free from their blind devotion could mean no longer being angels, though, since that's their most prominent racial (ish?) trait. It's like taking a cat and giving it the ability to bark instead of meow? If it makes sense? And could make them no longer worthy of being angels, creatures that exist only to fawn over their creator.

Conclusion: i have no fucking idea. Or rather, it depends on how you see it? Are they truly falling, as seen on, idk, Obey me or other media? No. Would they change from one to the other in a way that is easily explained as falling? Well, yes. Way I understand it, personally and until further info, it's like changing on a fundamental level, as if you're playing an rpg and change race from elf to orc, to chose two well known "opposites", rather than getting demoted and branded as no longer welcome. It does give some interesting xeno potential, as a side note.

Hope it made sense! Now, onto the second part of the question!

It is interesting, and suggest that he, and probably some other buggers from the Ars Goetia that were angels became devils from one reason or the other, and one way or another. Either that or he's edgy. He does seem to fancy himself all the fucked up healers so far, for whatever that means in his character and status.

As for Gabriel... Well, as I said, I think we'll get some insight from him on the fallen subject, and on how angel society works in general, since the other two don't show up much so far. But from what we can gather of his character, I think he's not the sharpest tool on the shed, and rather a delusional, overbearing yan who wants his daddy back rather than a cunning mastermind who knows Details and Info of the plot. If he knew where God is, he would have already fled to be with him or get him back somehow, I'd say. He's fun, though, can't wait to bully him.

#what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

89! 8D

Sky's stolen ask game

Paper Rings

Ship(s): Claire Debella x Agatha Harkness, Agatha Harkness x Reader, Claire Debella x Reader, Claire Debella x Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Claire and Agatha can't seem to keep from arguing as tensions run high between them.

Word Count: 2.6k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of character death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex, vague descriptions of sex, accusations of cheating

A/N: Whew! This turned into an actual fic, so thank you for requesting!

"Roaming the streets was never safe for her. What makes you think it's different for you? Your magic won't protect you, otherwise your bond, which was supposed to protect her, would've done its job and killed them before they could kill her."

Claire's voice is cold, and it hits a nerve.

"You don't have to remind me." Agatha snaps. "I don't know why the bond failed, but it did. It's all I can think about. About how I felt it. How I felt it as they carved her up and made her death agonizing and torturous. How I felt it as if it were me there and not her. I hope it means she didn't feel a thing. I really-" Agatha's voice hitches as her anger washes away. "I really do."

Claire only frowns. "I'm not losing you too, Harkness. Go home."

Agatha rapidly shakes her head in flat out refusal.

Claire's frown morphs into a glare.

"They targeted her to get to you, you idiot!" She yells, clearly having reached the end of her rope. "They obviously have methods against witchcraft so go home where it's safe. I'll track them down. They have nothing on me."

"Well clearly they do seeing as she was kidnapped when she was with you!" Agatha shouts back, tears pricking at her eyes. "Bonding with her was never supposed to be about protections or safety nets. It was always about being committed to one another. Always. It's not like claiming someone. It goes deeper than that."

"I wouldn't know, now would I?" Claire crosses her arms. "I've claimed you twice over now, and yet you still refuse to bond."

"Because it's different. It isn't the same at all."

"At first I thought maybe you just had commitment issues, but clearly that's not it." Claire says, sounding a bit defensive. "Clearly it's me. Clearly I shouldn't have ever claimed you, not when you're not my mate. Not when you don't want me."

Agatha drops her gaze to the ground.

"Bonding leaves both parties vulnerable for months, Claire." She says in a subdued tone. "I can never bond with you because you never want to be weak. That's what bonding is about. It's about truly becoming whole with someone on a deeply intimate level. The magic won't take if you can't accept showing the parts of you that you'd rather die hiding before showing them to even yourself. It isn't in your nature to be so exposed. And that would get us both killed. The magic would demand retribution for being called on for something that is not so wholly desired."

"I know that!" Claire's voice rings out with frustration.

"Then why do you still hold it against me for wanting us both to live!" Agatha explodes. "This isn't about me not loving you, you insecure ass! It's about me loving you too much to risk you!"

"So you loved her less? Is that what you're saying?" Claire asks, well knowing the answer.

Agatha closes her eyes. "No." She takes a breath before opening them again. "I loved her in a different way. The love we hold for each other is not the same as the love we held for her. I loved her enough to know that even if the magic wouldn't have accepted our intent that I'd rather have died trying to bond then gone on living wondering what if. And!" Agatha raises a finger, preemptively cutting Claire off. "I was unaware at the time we would eventually open our relationship to you, someone who could tie us together in a far more safer way."

Claire's jaw clenches.

"I have asked only twice to bond." She softly says. "And both times I allowed you to convince me to merely lay claim to you."

"Yes." Agatha meets Claire's eyes, tilting her head proudly. "Because it strengthens our relationship."

"Because you're a coward." Claire sneers. "Can you not admit it even to yourself? You're terrified what it would mean to be bonded to me."

Agatha's gaze remains steady.

"Yes, I am. I'm scared. I'm scared of bonding to a vampire who has a track record of cheating on me with people who aren't even their mate, even though I allowed myself to be claimed by them. I'm terrified of giving you what you want, something that is not undoable, even in death, only for you to cast me aside when you grow bored of me."

Claire stills.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What do you mean what the hell am I talking about! You fucking cheated on me! Or was that so insignificant to you that you don't even remember the reason why I left in the first place?"

"You left me because you thought I had cheated?" Claire sounds incredulous, but her eyes are beginning to water, a sign that Agatha hit something sensitive.

"I didn't think. I knew." Agatha insists.

"I would never. Have never." Claire takes a step forward. "Agatha, it goes against my nature, the very same one you're using as an excuse to keep me at bay. Do you have any idea how rare it is for a vampire to claim someone who isn't their mate? To claim the same person twice, especially after they had the first one cruelly and brutally suppressed and removed?" Claire brings her arms up to hug herself. "I don't think I ever experienced such pain." She whispers. "And you're lucky I couldn't find you for the decades after that. To take a vampire's blood, to use it to force them to give up someone they had given their heart to?" She shakes her head. "I was so wholly devoted to you, Agatha. I have no idea how you've come to the conclusion that I had been cheating, but I wasn't. I never had been. The very thought of it makes me feel sick."

"I don't believe you. I know what I saw, what I heard." Agatha suddenly feels emotionally drained. "And it's cruel of you to try to lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Claire insists. "Tell me what you saw, felt. Tell me so I can tell you what was going on."

"What I saw." Agatha grits out. "Was your legs spread open as a man I did not recognize ate you out. What I felt was betrayed. Especially as I heard you moaning another woman's name. It wasn't mine, and it definitely wasn't his."

Claire blinks.

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, do I need to repeat myself?" Agatha's voice has gone cold, but she can feel the way her lip trembles and the way her lungs struggle to take in air. "I had been out that day, and came home to see you being pleasured by a stranger, while you were calling out for another stranger."

"Agatha, that never happened." Claire's eyes are wide now. "That never-" She cuts herself off.

Agatha laughs bitterly.

"Jogged your memory, did it?"

"Agatha." Claire says breathlessly. "How soon after that did you leave?"

Agatha snorts. "Like you don't know."

"Humor me. Please." Claire bites her lip. "I'll beg if I have to. I need to know."

Agatha falls silent for a few moments as she weighs the worth of Claire's words. The truth of them.

"Two years." The witch finally says quietly. "I just... Couldn't take it anymore. I felt so awful throughout that entire time. I had to leave." Agatha looks away. "At first I had stayed because I wanted to see how long it would take you to admit to it. Then I found myself forgiving you. And I couldn't live with that, couldn't live with hating myself for being a lovesick fool. So I left."

"Agatha." Claire says firmly, drawing the younger woman's eyes back to her. "Two years before you left, nearly to the exact date, you had screwed up a spell. You couldn't tell me what it was, because I found you out cold in the basement. After you had woken, when I asked about it, you refused to tell me. And I didn't push, because I thought you were embarrassed. If I had realized..." She trails off, shaking her head slightly. "Surely you remember me asking you this?"

Agatha opens her mouth protest, but then shuts it again when no sound comes out.

"The very thought of cheating makes me ill. Forget about actually doing it." Claire takes another step forward, but Agatha jerks backwards.

"I still don't believe you." Her eyes look fevered, brightly colored and slightly glazed. "I- I can't. Not unless you let me-"

Claire waits, to see if Agatha will finish her sentence, but when she doesn't, she sighs.

"Just ask." She says softly. "I'll let you."

Agatha stills in shock.

"You'd let me in your head?" Uncertainty laces her words.

This time, as Claire steps forward, she's sure to keep her movements slow, gentle, as if Agatha is a frightened kitten easily startled.

"I told you, I wanted to bond. How could I ask that of you if I'm not willing for you to be allowed in the most intimated place I have?"

And oh, hell, she's crying now. She's crying when she was doing so well in not, in refusing to mourn and move on.

Shakily, Agatha reaches her fingertips to Claire's temples, doing her best to ignore how she's crying, how Claire is watching her tears roll down her face with what is clear anguish.

A few moments are enough to confirm what Claire is saying.

"Oh, goddess." Agatha whispers, horrified. "Oh, fuck."

Claire softly takes Agatha's wrists into her grasp.

"It's okay, doll." She says soothingly. "I promise. I'm not upset at you."

Agatha shakes her head.

"I messed up. I messed up so bad."

"No, you didn't." The vampire says firmly. "You made a mistake, one that is understandable. I am hurt you had felt that you couldn't confront me about it, but Agatha, that was literal centuries ago. And now we're here, together again. Missing our other half. And neither of us wants to make it missing both halves. So please." Claire brings one of Agatha hands up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it. "Forgive yourself."

Agatha stares blankly at Claire.

"You say that like it's simple."

"Forgiving yourself?"

Agatha nods.

"It's not. But I need you to try anyways."

Agatha wants to turn away, but can't.

"And you said we were missing our other half like she's just lost and not-" Agatha's voice hitches. "As if she isn't dead."

Claire squeezes Agatha's wrists before releasing them.

"We never saw a body. Not in person, physically. For all we know she is alive."

Agatha does look away now.

"Then why can't I feel her?" She roughly asks. "Why can't I touch her through the bond, hear her heartbeat singing in my ears, feel her love coursing through me?"

"It's possible these people that have been after you found a way to break the bond."

Agatha's head snaps around so violently, Claire's surprised that she didn't break it.

"Impossible."

"Except that nothing is impossible, only improbable."

"No." Agatha flexes her fingers. "Bonding is the literal joining of-"

"Of souls, of essences. I'm aware."

"It can't be undone because... It's like if you have glasses of water colored by different dyes. Once you pour them together, you can't unpour them back into their original separate colors."

"So maybe there's a way to subdue it then. Suppress it. Like how someone can do what you did with the first mating bite I gave you."

"Except that was just a step to complete removal." Agatha frowns, tears having dried up as her analytical brain kicks in.

Claire clearly hesitates, before saying, "it was never a complete removal."

"What?" Confusion colors Agatha's voice.

"A mating bite, for a vampire to claim someone, it physically alters both parties on a biological level. You can suppress those changes after the fact they've already taken place, but it's not an erasure of them. Merely... It's more like putting them to sleep. What you did was the most efficient way to do that. It's why when I gave you the second mating bite you collapsed. After going so long pretending like those alterations weren't there, your body couldn't handle the way it suddenly stopped suppressing what was now natural to it."

"That- no. No. I would've known about that, it would've been-"

"Agatha." Claire softly interrupts. "It's not something vampires ever share."

"Why not?"

"Because it leaves us vulnerable. Only those who have been claimed.."

"Can kill their mate." Agatha finishes. "So this was devised by vampires as a way of tricking others into believing they could no longer harm them if something happened to end the relationship?"

Claire's smile is small, but genuine.

"You've always been clever." She praises.

"Oh."

Claire hums in response and silence falls over the alleyway.

"You really want to bond." The whisper seems to echo off the brick walls.

"I do." Claire's eyes gleam. "I don't care how weak or exposed it leaves me." She brings her hands up to cup Agatha's face. "You were my first true love, the first person I mated with, despite how much I tried with the handful of others before you who my every instinct told me that they were my match. My mates without being claimed."

Their lips are now close enough that Agatha can feel the way Claire's form her words.

"I've loved you. I've always loved you, ever since we met. I still love you. I love you so much it pains me physically to think of you hurt. I love you so much I desire to be utterly as one with you."

At those words, Agatha closes the miniscule gap between them and kisses Claire deeply, moaning into the older woman's mouth as she gently sucks on her tongue.

She can feel the spark of magic rising between them, the way it starts, flickering in the pit of her stomach before traveling up to her heart, the center of her life force, can feel it's twin doing the same within Claire.

And then, suddenly, and so faintly it would be concerning if it weren't for the situation, Agatha can sense a third being mirrored within you.

Agatha immediately pulls away from Claire, and the magic instantly dies out.

"Whats wrong?" Claire sounds nervous, as if she thinks the answer will be that Agatha no longer loves her.

"I felt her." Agatha gasps, trying to force herself to breathe. "We can't- I can't bond with you without her consent, because if I bond with you she bonds with you, and Claire-" Agatha's eyes shine with relived tears. "Claire, she's alive."

Claire doesn't care how painful her grip is on Agatha's arm, can't bring herself to even try to control her strength.

"She's alive?"

Agatha nods.

"She's alive, Claire! We have to find her, I can't- we can't lose her."

"And we won't."

Agatha can see the bloodlust starting to rise within Claire, can see it in the way her eyes shift to take on an unnatural tone as she imagines ripping the ones who dared hurt her mates into two.

"You're not going to send me home?" Agatha asks.

Claire hesitates, then shakes her head.

"No. I will not deny you the opportunity to enact your own retribution. I trust in your ability."

Agatha lets out the breath she hadn't been aware of holding. "Then let's go bring her home."

"Where to first?" Claire questions

"She's alive, and now that I'm aware that the bond can still be felt..."

Agatha smiles sharply, and Claire reflects it back to her.

"You can transport us directly to her."

"We're going to make those fools wish they had the mercy of death." Agatha hisses.

"Yes we are." Claire solemnly agrees. "And yes they will."

#sky's stolen ask games #sky's inbox #sky answers #sky replies #aparticularbandit #sky writes #my fic writing #kathryn hahn #claire debella #c: claire #c: vampire!claire #agatha harkness #c: agatha #claire debella x agatha harkness #claire debella x reader #agatha harkness x reader #claire debella x agatha harkness x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #they're all saps your honor #this really wrote itself #also yay! #offical au time! #marvel #glass onion

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Hidden Details

Silco treats Marcus to lunch.

From ‘heron blue,’ an AU where Vi and Jinx reconnect under different terms. Slow, rocky relationship rebuilding, found family messiness, and political schemings. cw: threats of violence, manipulation Full story on AO3

He sits across the white-clothed table, coy as a cat, in a plain shirt and slacks: the steel-gray of his coat shucked over the back of his chair; his peppering hair a sleek, birdish coif; his dead eye harrowing. His knife scrapes over his plate, a squelch of bloodied, Shuriman-imported steak, housed between a finery of herbs and root vegetables and sweet slaws and sauces. 

It was a feast fit for a king, in the likes of this city. A grotesque show of expense, for a man dressed like he'd just strolled in from the fields.

Marcus, uncomfortably on uniformed display, had been served a plate of quail and potatoes. Pitifully peasant, by comparison.

"Is it to your liking?" Silco mulls.

Marcus's throat ticks on a swallow. "I—yes. It's delicious."

"Good. Given the morning you've had, I'm sure you must be famished." 

He talks around his food. For all his insistences at formality, the behavior reeks of hypocrisy. It irks Marcus to no end.

"It's been a...challenging morning, yes." His fork spears into his quail. "I was unaware we were due for a meeting."

Silco's mouth twitches at one end. He sloshes down a forkful of vegetables with wine as dark as coagulated blood. "We weren't," he says easily, clicking the glass back onto the table.

His movements are slow and unbothered. Routine. Like they aren't sitting in the middle of a crowded room, in a blatant reach at intimidation. Like that bull-faced bitch isn't guarding the door, her eyes searing into Marcus's back.

Marcus clears his throat. Squeezes his fingers around his knife. "If it isn't too much to ask," he starts, the words poisonous, unfettered, "then I'd like an explanation. I've enough on my hands to finish, today. Afraid some of us don't have hours to kill."

Silco levels a pointed look at him: a slow tilt of his head. "An explanation." The simmer of its repetition sets a chill through Marcus's shoulders. A bite of meat, chewed and swallowed. The fork, set quietly across the rim of his plate. "Yes, do explain something to me." Silco folds his hands along the table's edge, leaning into them. "Unless I'm mistaken, your contract stipulates that no enforcer shall set foot in the Lanes without first being disclosed to me. Is that correct?"

Marcus stares into a teal eye, cold as frosted glass. "Yes."

"I see." Silco's thumbs steeple against each other, a thin, bone-pale point. "In that case, tell me: why is it I've seen one of your own prowling through these streets, like she owns them?"

The next breath Marcus drags in feels like nails through his lungs. He opens his mouth to speak.

"Better yet," Silco drawls on, before the words can form, "tell me who's escorting her. Either my age is getting to me, you see, or she's dragged a soul from the Pilt." The flash of his eye narrows. "One, I recall, you had taken care of, yourself."

Sand sticks in Marcus's throat. "That's—that's impossible." 

It's a bare reach at denial. No doubt this shark sees right through it, like sniffing blood through water.

"Is it?" Silco tacks his thumb across his knuckle. "Well—in that, we must agree."

His voice doesn't fit the image of him: a rumble sharp and fanged as lion's breath, coming out of a man with bones like a bird. It's as unsettling as the sight of that putrid scar: as the mask that sits on his gaunt face, void of all emotion, save a dry, displeased scrutiny. 

Never had Marcus sat in front of someone, and so consistently felt like a scrape of mud on one's boot.

His eyes flicker to the table's edge, hard as iron. "I—she was in a safe place."

"A life sentence, you mean," Silco corrects him, the words a low, graveling squeeze. "Conveniently under your watch." Marcus swallows. "At what point did you intend to share that detail with me?" 

His fingers, carefully, knit to a fist. "What did you expect me to do?" he hisses, his eyes averted. "Kill a kid—?"

"To do your job, when it is given to you." Teal and red, unblinking. "Not lie through your teeth, when you fail."

Silence eats through the space between them. It leaves the room deafening: a surge of clattering silverware, droning conversation, shrieking music, sitting on this animal's breath, his very presence like a virus sifting through one's skin.

Marcus's fist tightens over the table. "Caitlyn, she—the girl's a Kiramman." He spits the name out, like a soured rind. "She—she does what she wants, I can't—I've got the Council up in arms, as it is. I tell her not to go looking for something, she does. I take one step out of line with her damned family, and I'm off their roster, and yours. I can't control her—"

The flash of that glacier-cold eye sharpens. "Then of what use are you?"

Damn him. Damn him. 

Silco leans back in his chair, an image of curated passivity. Fingers tick-ticking across the spotless tablecloth. His mismatched stare searching; swimming.

"I'll fix this," Marcus gristles out.

"Indeed, you shall."

Tick-tick, tick-ticking.

"What do—" Marcus forces liquid down his throat. "What do you want?"

He expects, on precedent, that the snake before him will unroll his terms with a smug flare of satisfaction, a single word enough to twist the conversation around his finger. 

The silence blindsides him.

Silco leaves the question ignored, completely. For a long moment, he only leers, a marginal slant to the lilt of his head, his eyes unmoving. Then, he turns his attentions back to his plate, picking easily through its array. He lifts his fork, in a vague waving. "Eat."

Marcus blinks. Dread plummets into his gut. "Look," he breathes, and has to wrestle down the shiver that starts in his wrist. "Whatever you need, I—just tell me what to do—"

"I'd meant to ask after little Ren." Bloodied steak, sliced, chewed. "Forgive me—must have slipped my mind." Squealing metal and porcelain. "She must be nearing nine years now, right?"

His armor stands thin as gauze: a chill seeping through it, like a winter gale through a wind tunnel. 

"Such a tender age. Most children here are lucky to even have their kin, that long."

Marcus works his jaw loose. Fights a breath into his lungs.

"It'd be unfortunate, to have her without a father. I'm sure the foundling houses would put her straight to work, scrubbing the floors of your dear councilmen—"

He jolts, halfway to his feet, rattling his plate into a harsh ch-clang. Knuckles whitened. Nails biting into the edge of the table.

A blue-fire stare flits up to him. Silco quirks one brow, lightly. "Ah," he sighs, the breath simmering off his tongue, with the chilling arrogance of a cat batting at a mouse. "So we understand each other." The point of his knife slinks into a dull order. 

Mechanically, teeth ground edge to edge, Marcus sits.

"The Kiramman girl," Silco says then, the tone in his voice twisted to an embering snap, "I hear she has more ties to the Council than her blood suggests."

Marcus unclenches his fingers from the table. "Her and Talis were childhood friends."

Another scrape of porcelain. "I imagine the boy would do her a favor."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning your girl's overstepped a line, and will be withheld, accordingly." That vile, magmatic eye hooks into him, a strange flare of rotted flesh and unearthly carnelian, like a breath blown over a burning coal. "As above, so below," Silco gravels. He cocks his head. "Or—do the same rules not apply to your lot, I wonder?"

#arcane fanfic #fic excerpt #heron blue #silco #marcus #aka however many words this is of silco chewing up marcus's pride and spitting it on a plate #you know #the usual #writing #one of my favorite bits of dialogue from this fic tbh #loved writing these two #cw violence #cw manipulation

[literaticat]

From your perspective, what are the best resources to send to a true beginner (someone who knows absolutely nothing at all about children's publishing but says they have a story idea) for learning the craft and business of writing picture books?

Well, first I'd probably tell them that EVERYONE has story ideas -- trust me, if I tell people I work in publishing, I hear "I have a great story idea!" or "Wow, I've always wanted to write a book!" from anyone from dentist to dog-walker. Actually doing the hard work to study the market, write a book, revise the book, etc, is generally a bridge too far for most. And that's fine.

If they are serious about it, though, they should figure out what kinds of books exist, and what kind they are writing or looking to write. (Many adults don't remember much about kid's books, really, and have NO IDEA how much variety exists in the kid's section, or how to tell these books apart, but it's important! And if they walk in and are just lost, they can always ask a nice librarian or bookseller for some guidance!).

Are they looking to write a picture book? A chapter book? MG/YA? Fiction, nonfiction? Each category of books has its own rules and norms, and you kinda need to know them if your goal is to get published. So they should take some time at the bookstore or library to really get to know the different age levels and categories, and immerse themselves in various books that are in the category they want to write. How long are those books? What is the vocabulary like? What's popular? Which publishers are publishing those books? They will likely come to see that there are patterns -- like, most picture books are 32 pages long and under 500 words (much shorter than their faves as a kid might have been!), most chapter books are in series, etc. (Protip: If you hate this step, and reading a bunch of children's books isn't fun for you, you probably should NOT be writing for kids!)

Now that they know their way around the kid's section, it's time for a little online investigation. There are free Facebook groups, for example, like KidLit411, where newbies can observe and ask questions and there are people a little further along in the journey can help answer them. They will see a lot of jargon and things they probably won't understand immediately (like "queries", "R&R", "twitter pitch" or whatever, that we take for granted that people know, but they won't!) -- so, great, they can google and get more familiar with the lay of the land. They will quickly start to realize just how much they really DON'T know, but they'll also start to pick it up.

They should also think about their GOALS. WHY do they want to write children's books? WHO are they trying to reach with their stories? Do they want to be an agented and traditionally published author, where their books are available in regular bookstores for a general audience? OR, do they want to write a very specific niche kind of book for a very specific audience? (Like, a book about dealing with XYZ Illness, aimed at children with that illness and their caretakers, for example, or a book about a specific regional event that is likely to sell A LOT of copies in one small part of the country, and zero copies outside of it) That might mean that a small niche publisher dealing with that thing/locale/whatever exists -- or it might mean that self-publishing is their best bet. (None of these options are BAD, mind you, they are just different, and might mean the paths they will take are different, and they should be aware of that).

If they find all of this research invigorating / exciting, they should continue to the next step. If they find this daunting and awful, they should STOP and go live their lives!

Once they are clear that a) yes this is work, and will take time and effort to master, and it is FAR from a get-rich-quick scheme, and b) they are up for the challenge, and passionate about the stories they want to tell, and c) yes they not only have "an idea" but also know what KIND of book they are going to be writing and what they should be aiming for, and d) they have some idea of their own motivation and goals...

THEN, I'd tell them to sit their butts down and start writing, and if they are enjoying it and want to go to the NEXT step, look into joining the SCBWI.

The SCBWI has huge conferences, of course, but they also have LOADS of free resources for members, and smaller regional events all over the world that are often free or inexpensive; if you happen to live in an active region there are often meet-ups, critique opportunities, etc -- getting to know other authors and getting access to these resources can be REALLY valuable for newbies. But I would just suggest those other steps FIRST, because it's pointless to spend the money to join if you aren't really committed, and you won't know if you are committed until you know more about what it all even is and actually are writing things. You know?

[stormblessed95]

Hi Storm, it's the once upon a time Jihope anon.

I wanted to express my condolences to you and anyone who knew your friend. all I can say is time eventually helps but me saying that will be no consolation now. Make sure you rest when you feel able and talk whenever it feels like it will help, and for all the other times when your mind's too active to rest and you feel too spent to talk or write or whatever, know that even some strangers on the internet are reaching out to give your shoulder a squeeze.

I'd been not around cuz had nothing to say except a long string of 'hey did you know that I love Jihope and Jikook and BTS from here to infinity and beyond?' and yes that's nice but takes the saccharine to a new level lol

Adding to that I've been finding some parts of fandom life exhausting lately while keeping in mind that no one forces me or anyone to be in this fandom and I could in theory step away at any time, it's real helpful!

So much to be excited and so proud of the amazing men we're all here for lately. Jin in Argentina, wootteo on instagram, JK's performance legit left me in tears of pride. Indigo and Namjoonie's performance in front of just a few army will be beautiful and it's wholly him.

What I love about them all is the authenticity. They can't reveal all about themselves, we should never expect them to, they already give so much but 7 different people just can't all maintain the levels of persona it would have taken them all to maintain completely different versions of them for all the years they've been around. There are sides we see less of naturally and we may even completely misunderstand or rather not misunderstand but if you ask 20 different armys to describe any given situation and what it said to them of them and you would probably get 20 different responses - it's normal.

What was my point? That everything about each promotion round so far has been similar in some aspects but uniquely them with the type of interview and makes me so excited for the rest.

Bittersweet moments to come soon for sure with Jin, and the same again for each of them as they leave.  As emotions got the better of me again watching Jin's recent videos, am keeping in mind emotions are all good whatever the circumstance. And just the way a person can show the capacity they have to love however that is (crying/laughing/streaming/voting/dreaming of particular subunits soon or in 2025/26/tbc) , to show empathy and grace to those around us is something to aspire and something they demonstrate to us so readily.   Things too many around here and elsewhere seem incapable of understanding.  Some people will never learn no matter how hard and patiently we try i think.

For someone who had nothing to say I sure wrote an essay saying not much of use too, a rare talent, yike.

-squeezes your shoulder, sends you a hug-

Thank you for all your kind words my sunshine anon. 💜💜💜

[taee]

the members are right when they say that it's hard to love someone the way their fans love them

loving them is what makes me the happiest and is my favorite thing about my life and about myself, but it definetely takes a lot of energy to love and support 7 different people so constantly while having no idea if one day i'll even be able to go to a concert. or knowing that i'll never be able to say in person everything i wish i could say to them. there's something beautiful but painful at the same time about being only 1 among millions. there are some things that i sacrifice to be more with them too and the most important among them is "time"

it's all always worth it but it's hard... yet i wish i could do more? Does it make sense? :(

First, before anything, let me give you a BIG hug:

Also, you're making perfect sense don't worry, I got what you mean! I'll reply more under the cut!

Honestly I can't say I've never felt that way before ;; The fan idol relationship is very complicated. And you're right, being a fan really isn't easy. There is only this much that each of us can give and it gets frustrating sometimes because as an individual among millions it is difficult to see the impact we've made and we often question ourselves whether it is even worth it. But bestie, I'd say always prioritise yourself first and support them within your means. I understand your wish to want to do more for them but please know that even if you're not able to do so, what you're giving is already more than enough. No act of support is considered too small or too little and they don't always have to involve money or recognition for them to seem significant. Even if you're just coming on here to share and talk about them, it is already helping a lot you know? And if it gets too tiring and too much to bear, it is also always okay to step away and come back again when you're ready.

There probably are lots of reasons as to why you'd doubt that you'd be able to even get to seem them but please don't give up on that hope :((( You WILL get to see them one day! We'll all make it happen together. The boys have always been trying their best to perform in as much countries as possible so trust them and trust yourself!

As the fandom grows it definitely makes it a lot more difficult for us to get a chance to communicate with the boys on a more intimate or 1:1 level but don't forget we still have our dear friend Weverse! Even though yes, chances of them coming across your messages is still very very low but hey! There is no harm using it as a journal for you to post words that you've always wanted to say to them. They don't always have to respond to every post they read, I'm sure there can be times where they are silent readers too! Your words and your love for them will reach their hearts <3

#answered #anon

[butterfluffy]

Hiiii! For the "Sing me a song" event can I please request Law x Male reader with the song "Generator" by Foo Fighters. Maybe something with the lines "Steal me now and forever, I'll steal something good for your, the criminal in me is no one new". I was thinking of something kinda fluffy with a bit of angst were Law and reader have known each other since teens and always had like a troubled relationship in which they don't have the guts to say what they feel for each other but now that it's been years since that, they find each other again and won't let this opportunity slide to say what they feel. Thank you!!!! :) ❤️

“steal me now and forever”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· yearning for each other, an unexpected opportunity opened up and they just can't let it slide, stealing each other now and forever to be the generator to their motored hearts.

⠀⠀➧ fluff, angst if you squint | trafalgar law × m!reader | oneshot / song fic

⠀⠀➧ warnings — none! mistakes and swearing may be present though.. so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed until further notice!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: welcome to my “sing me a song” event made to honor this account reaching 200+ followers! visit it to see my other works on this special!

reqested by: @checkeredsockss — thx for the request and for participating on my event, xoxo!

i love the scenario you gave, and the song too! (and upon seeing foo fighters, i was reminded of f.f. from jjba. 👁️👁️ i also had a bit of a trouble deciding on what to write here, haha—)

Years have passed and changes were made, yet there's still that something in your heart that remained the same—and it is the longing for your dear friend, Trafalgar Law.

Ever since you and Law were teens, you had always loved him, but is too cowardly to speak up and tell what you truly feel, and being troubled by the fear of ruining your relationship with him, so you had no choice but to move on.

But how can you do so when you still can't get rid of the way your heart races when Law's with you?

“Fuck you, Law, you're such a piece of shit!” You spat out, words laced with venom as you struggled to free yourself from the chains the doctor tied you with.

“I know, I know. You don't have to tell me twice.” Smirking as he watched you, his ‘friend’ try to break free, Law crouched down to your level, his index finger lifting your chin up, making you look into his eyes that bore into your soul.

Ah, yes, you're tied up. Why? Because you were kidnapped in the middle of the day by this man with you—resulting into this unpleasant reunion.

“Tsk, let me go, Law. I was in the middle of getting better,” You state with a click of a tongue, taking a long pause before continuing with a small whisper. “better without you and your sick ass...”

“Well damn. Wish I could stay sick with you, but there's too many egos left to bruise..” Hums the pirate captain, caressing your cheek that cheek went heating up, growing into a light shade of red.

“Like hell I'm allowing a criminal like you stay with me..!” Shaking your head no, Law rolled his eyes by this attitude you served to him.

“Call it sin, you can call it whatever, but I know...” Taking a deep breath, Law then wore a tiny smile on his face, different from his usual sneering look before continuing, “You want to be with me, and it's eating deep inside of you, isn't it?”

Giving silence to the man, you frowned, not happy on how he can see clear into your mind, and the mixed signals he's showing you, playing with your feelings.

“Well if it were me it's all I'd ever do, it's you I wanna be with anyway.” He confessed, causing your jaw to drop on the floor, not believing what you just heard from the man you've been liking.

“..Wow, so you kidnapped me in broad daylight, then tell me to join you and make me a wanted man, all because you wanna be with me?”

Letting an airy chuckle as you spoke, you threw your head back, laughing. “Are you for real now, Law? You ain't fucking with me, yeah?”

“Yep, I'm definitely not lying. I've liked your sorry ass for years now, you idiot.” Revealing this, you bursted into laughter as Law removed your chains, brows furrowed.

“..Shut up, stop laughing at me and just leave if you want to, I'm not stopping you.” Law grumbled, leaning on the wall behind him as you stood up, wiping the tears that formed in your eyes from laughing a little too much.

“Wait, no, I'm sorry emo boy. It's just—fuck, haha! Same. I've also liked you since we were teens, and we just told each other this after all that.” You admit with a deep sigh, getting Law to have his mouth agape, a smile forming on his face.

“Thought that you'd hate me if I told you that I like you.” He shrugs, pulling his hat down to cover his face that showed happiness.

“Why would I?” You simply chimed, standing beside Law who glanced on your joyous self.

“So, Doctor Heart Stealer, why don't you steal me now and forever? You're a pirate, a criminal, so I don't see anything wrong with that.”

Saying this, Law nods. Hand tracing your chest before stopping on where your heart is. “Then I'll steal something good for you.”

Wearing a sneer on his face, Law suddenly took your heart out with his ability, shocking you. “Holy shit, Law! You fucker, put it back, I didn't mean it literally!”

Beating his chest as you roared, wanting your heart back, Law smirked, sticking his tongue out as he lightly pinched the organ in his hand, causing you to wince.

“The criminal in me is no one new, boy. This heart is mine now, and only mine.” He whispered in a low tone, taking ownership over your heart.

“..Ugh, then make me yours too, not only my heart, you dumbass.” Pulling him close to you as you spoke, law chuckled, leaning forward and kissing your lips.

“Yeah yeah, you're mine, I'm yours. I'm gonna be that something, and someone better for you when there's nothing left to use, when everything goes down on you.” He cooes, kissing you once again.

“Fuck... That's right, you better be, you better be the generator to my motored heart that you started.”

“Got it, now let me steal you, now and forever..” Slinging his arm over your shoulders, Law beamed, sharing a tight embrace with you...

© butterfluffy 2022

#ੈ♡˳· butterfluffy #ੈ♡˳· fluff reaches 200 followers! #ੈ♡˳· fluff's milestone event! #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d. water law x reader #law one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d. law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #one piece songfic #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. law #trafalgar d. water law #ੈ♡˳· “sing me a song” · event