#[its because book of bill is arriving soon im so fucking HAPPY]

[mewtillidae]

posting a kremy every single day until new episodes of OUAW are out DAY 103

[voiceless-terror]

Prompts? This is a happy day! If you wish! I'm writing something similar but I need more cakes in the flavor and you write emotions so well! But early days in the archives and Tim and Sasha are giving Jon the cold shoulder and maybe there's an accident or something Jon really needs help with but he doesn't think he can go to either of them and he doesn't know Martin. And the next day he rolls up sick, or beat to hell, or has a cast, or a black eye, and Tim and Sasha are like WAT? And then feels!

Here you are! How do you know EXACTLY what to prompt me??? This is so my speed. So here you go- I hope you like!

“You’ve survived your first month in the Archives! That’s cause for celebration, Martin. Drinks on me!”

Tim’s cheerful tones weren’t hard to miss. Perhaps he didn’t notice Jon standing in the doorway, small and timid. He realized it was the middle of a rather stressful work week, but he just needed a little bit of help with some boxes. He’d been tired and worn out for the better part of the week, and the small ladder in Document Storage was rickety at best. Martin and Tim were both much taller and stronger than him- hell, even Sasha could’ve probably gotten the job done. Just a few minutes and then they could be on their way, to wherever they planned to go. Without him. 

Sasha was the one who noticed him. “Oh- hey, Jon. Did you need something?” 

He looked at the other two, twitching with clear impatience. Martin opened his mouth to speak but Tim made some sort of hushing motion with his hand. A sinking feeling made its way through Jon’s chest and to his stomach- the thought of asking for even the smallest of favors filled him with anxiety. He didn’t think he could bear seeing their faces when they said no. 

“Er, no, just- have a good night, yeah?” His voice sounded off, even to him, but they didn’t seem to make much of it, nodding awkwardly.

“You too!” Martin called after him as Jon scurried down the hallway, biting down whatever sadness stuck in his throat. He’d be here all night most likely. 

It didn’t bother him.

______

Jon stared up at the boxes looming tauntingly on the shelf, filled with statements that were likely just as disorganized as the ones on the shelf below. But these were labeled with the most recent dates in the Archive, and that’s what he planned on going through for the rest of the week.

Back in research, Tim used to prank him by putting things on the highest of shelves- books he needed, tea he wanted. It irked him but Tim would always be right around the corner to lend a helping hand and a teasing word. It got Jon out of his head for a moment, something very few people could accomplish. 

Tim still put things on high shelves in their break room but it just felt cruel, now that he wasn’t comfortable enough to ask for help. Now that Tim was never around the corner.

He put a tentative foot on the step ladder, grimacing as it leaned to the side. He’d put in an order for a new one at the beginning of his tenure but Elias never responded. He felt bad bothering the man with such a petty request when he could just ask his assistants for help. What was he supposed to tell him? ‘Hey my assistants seem to hate me and I’m too scared to ask them’ didn’t inspire much confidence.

Jon took another step forward, willing the ladder to stabilize. He needed to get to the fourth step to even have a chance of reaching the box, high up as it was. Just a bit further.

He made it to the fourth when everything went to hell. As soon as he reached his hands toward the box the ladder creaked and listed dangerously to the side, throwing him wildly off balance. He flailed right off the side, landing with a yelp and a crack on the cold concrete floor of Document Storage. 

The pain emanating from his left arm was almost paralyzing-it had taken almost all his weight in the fall and was lying awkwardly across the floor. It brought tears to his eyes as he tried to move it so he just laid there for a bit, willing himself not to pass out from the pain. How ridiculous he must have looked, lying prone on the ground, defeated by a fucking stepladder. 

When he finally decided to sit up his head spun- he only got as far as scooting back and leaning his head onto a shelf, trying to control his breathing. He had his phone in his pocket. If he needed help, he could just call Sasha or Tim or even Martin. His arm didn’t feel right and he would probably have to go to a clinic or the A & E, something he hated doing. He didn’t think he could brush this one off.

But what if they didn’t answer? He thought about the three of them at the bar, laughing and talking. Tim would be regaling them with some ridiculous story, his phone would ring. He would glance down at it, see Jon’s name and flip it over, ignoring it. 

Or worse, they would come, see him huddled on the floor and laugh. They would try to hold it in at first- they weren’t that rude. But as they helped him to his feet they wouldn’t be able to contain it. How embarrassing he was, how ridiculous. Jon couldn’t bear to be laughed at.

Two weeks ago he had walked past the upstairs break room on his way back from a meeting with Elias. It was entirely unproductive; he could sense Elias’s growing frustration with his lack of progress. Jon wondered if he regretted making him his Head Archivist, if he was already thinking of suitable replacements. Jon wouldn’t blame him.

And that’s when he heard it- an odd, mocking voice that he knew belonged to Ryan from research. Ryan and Jon never got on- Ryan was talkative and prone to gossip, and every attempt he had made to talk to Jon had been shut down by his inability to carry a conversation. On the odd times they were paired together to work, Jon took the brunt of it with utter silence, unwilling to complain about the man lest he be deemed more difficult than he already was.

But the voice he put on- stuffy and posh- was a caricature of Jon’s own. And sure enough, when he glanced in the doorway he saw Ryan hunched over a table, someone else’s glasses on his face as he screwed it up in a scowl and carried on as “Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute” to his captive audience.

His captive audience which included Sasha and Tim. 

He felt his heart shatter as the group laughed at the impression. It was accurate, why shouldn’t they? God, why hadn’t he realized how much everyone hated him here? Any respect he thought he earned faded quickly with this showing. He found himself sprinting down the hallway and locking himself in his office, ignoring Martin’s concerned inquiries as he desperately tried to blink back tears.

Remembering the incident brought the shame and embarrassment back tenfold. No, he would deal with this himself. That was the best course of action.

He took fifteen minutes to properly wallow but once his heart rate lowered and the pain was at manageable, dull roar he got to his feet and staggered down the aisle, constantly searching for a handhold. He had everything he needed on him- it wasn’t so cold that he couldn’t go without a jacket, and he knew he wouldn’t get any work done this evening. 

Making his way down the hallway and up the stairs was almost tortuous; he paused several times and took deep breaths to avoid passing out and making the problem worse. By the time he got to the lobby Rosie was already gone for the day and Ed, the janitor, was idly mopping by the front door.

“‘Ave a good night, sir,” the man said without looking up. “Careful though, s’slippery over-whoa there, Sims!”

He must have looked as awful as he felt because the man dropped his mop and made his way over to his side, his face the picture of concern. Jon was holding his arm at an awkward angle so as not to jostle it. “S’fine,” he wearily started. “Have a good night, Ed.”

“Don’ look fine to me, Jonny.” Jon hated this nickname, but he never let on. He didn’t want to upset the one man who still greeted him day and night, no matter how stressed and irritable Jon looked. It was a nice, comforting routine. “Somethin’ happen?”

“Just took a fall, nothing serious,” he lied, well aware that his palm was scraped and crusted with blood. “I’ll just be going, got a train to catch-”

“Let me get you a cab, son,” he said, a paternal hand on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t be on the tube looking like that, bound to make it worse.” Jon began to voice his protest but the man was already out the door, waving and stamping in the street. He would smile at the scene if he had the energy for it. Instead he just staggered after him, wincing with every step.

“Over here!” the man shouted, standing by a cab a little ways down the road. Ed opened the door and ushered him in, hands helpful and gentle and so kind that Jon has to blink away tears. “There’s a good lad. Take ‘im to the closest A & E, will ya?” Jon watched as he shoved a pocketful of bills in the cabbies hand.

“Ed, you’ve already done enough-”

“Nonsense,” he waved Jon off, still looking at him with that mix of warmth and concern that Jon so desperately needed. “You just get that checked out, y’hear? An’ come back in one piece!” With that, he shut the door and gave him a wave, standing in place until the car was out of sight.

Jon couldn’t hold back his tears after that.

_______

Jon comes in the next day, arm freshly broken and in a sling, medicated to the gills. He paused at first, considering not taking the pain medication but he eventually gave in as the pain progressed throughout the morning. He’s a little late and he’s going to have to march past his assistants’ desks and attempt to avoid questions. 

“Whoa there, boss! What happened?” Tim says immediately upon his arrival. Jon avoids his gaze and looks to the ground, walking as quickly as possible to his office and shutting the door. He deserves a bit of peace before the inevitable interrogation.

Of course, he would never be so lucky. All three assistants are soon hovering around the doorway, looking at him with a worry he doesn’t deserve. He sighs as he casts his eyes to the desk and slumps down in his chair.

“Took a spill yesterday, nothing serious,” he mutters in as staid a tone as he could manage. “Now, if you could please get back to work-”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily,” Sasha says, coming over to his desk, Tim not far behind. Martin stays in the doorway, ever polite. “You were fine we left!”

“It happened shortly afterwards. I advise none of you to use the stepladder for the time being.” He manages a weak smile that none of them return.

“Stepladder? Boss, I told you not to use that anymore!” Tim plops down in a chair, legs immediately going over the arm of it. Jon always imagined them talking in the office like this- a stupid fantasy he entertained when he first got the position. No one had ever sat in those chairs, they just stood in his office and counted the seconds until they could leave. ‘Why didn’t you ask us for help?”

“I-I was going to,” he begins, feeling instantly guilty at the thought of making them feel bad. “But- well, you looked like you had plans.”

Tim and Sasha exchanged a look. “You should’ve at least called us when it happened,” Sasha says, a hand on his desk. Jon aches to take it. “We were right around the corner.”

“I know,” he says. He feels out of it, vulnerable and loose and unmoored. Likely from the meds. 

“You knew and you still didn’t call?” Martin this time, his voice incredulous.

“I didn’t think you would come,” his voice is no more than a whisper and his chest aches something fierce. His hands tighten into fists at the silence that follows; he nervously starts to fill it.

“I know-look, it’s fine we’re not friends any more,” he starts, trying to keep his voice level. “But it- it just seems like you don’t want me to be your boss either?” His voice goes higher in pitch and he can’t seem to stop babbling. “I just- I need to know where I stand. So I know what’s okay to ask. I know this isn’t ideal but I- I need help sometimes. Not a lot, just...just sometimes.” 

“Jon,” Tim has a hand on his arm and an urgency in his voice. “That’s not- of course we would have come. Of course.” 

“I didn’t want you to laugh at m-me.” Christ, could he not get a handle on his emotions for five goddamn minutes? Why was he still talking?

“We would never laugh-” 

“But you did!” The words burst forward, almost a yell. “I-I saw you the other day. With Ryan- laughing at me. You know I don’t-” The breaths come quick and he can feel the tears coming down his face. God, what a mess he was. “I don’t understand where it all went wrong. If- if you don’t like me, why did you accept this job? Why are you here? What- what do I need to do better? Why were you laughing at me!” Jon dissolves into a mess of sobs as he slams his chair back from his desk, desperate to put as much space as he could between himself and his assistants.

But Jon never gets what he wants. Tim has his arms wound gently around his body, taking care to avoid the sling. And Sasha is there, a hand on his back as well.

“We- we weren’t laughing, Jon,” Tim tries, but Sasha cuts in.

“But we didn’t exactly tell him to knock it off, did we?” Her voice is angry and Jon doesn’t know who it’s aimed towards. He feels so stupid, so childish for breaking down like this but he knows what he saw. What he heard. “Ryan’s a jealous dick, he was just being mean. And...I guess we were being sort of mean, too.”

Tim takes over from there. “Look- things have gotten messy since we came down here, yeah? We’re...adjusting, that’s for sure. And I’m sorry that we made you feel like you did something wrong.”

“I- I did though, I must have-”

“No- Jon, look at me,” He hazards a glance at Sasha’s face, looking anywhere but her eyes. “You know me. Emotions aren’t particularly my forte. It’s- it’s a lot easier not to talk about things, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. It was a lot easier to hold onto my anger at being passed over, y’know?”

“If you told me- I would’ve had Elias switch us, I swear-”

“We don’t have to switch. To be honest, I don’t think I know how the fuck an Archive is supposed to be run either. At least not one like this,” She gestures to the room and Jon manages a weak smile. 

“I’m not very good when things get messy, either,” Tim admits, leaning awkwardly on a file cabinet in order to keep an arm around him. Jon hopes the gesture is genuine, and not just an attempt to placate the man having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the office. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’ve been a right ass. So while I’m trying to make it up to you, how about you let me and Martin handle the top shelf from now on, yeah?” The joke feels familiar. This is territory Jon can manage.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jon wipes a hand across his face, finally feeling a bit more stable. “S’fine. I forgive you.” He takes the tissue Sasha offers. “Sorry for being so- er, dramatic. The pain medication is quite something, to be honest.”

“Oh God,” Sasha is suddenly all business. ‘“You shouldn’t be at work right now. Not like this- Tim’ll take you home, right?” Tim nods, tightening his arm around Jon’s shoulder.

“Yeah- you’re not going to get anything done like this, Jon. Have a rest, Sasha’ll tell Elias what’s going on, yeah?”

“Of course.”

There it is again- of course. Maybe if they keep saying that, it’ll make it true. 

Jon doesn’t argue as he’s ushered out of the Institute- whatever that was took a lot out of him, and he knows he’s useless to his team like this, dazed and unstable. Martin follows them outside- Jon had almost forgotten he was there. He had slipped out of the office during the worst of it, kindly giving them some space. He wants to thank him but he doesn’t know how. Instead he listens as Martin rattles off all the things Tim should watch out for, like a nervous mother hen.

“I got it, Martin,” Tim says patiently. “But I’ll call you if anything happens.” Martin reluctantly backs off, giving the two of them a wave as they drive out of the parking lot.

“Jon,” Tim begins, putting a special emphasis on his name. He missed being called Jon. “You know I’ll always come when you call. I promise. I’d- I’d never laugh at you, not like that.”

You know. Of course.

“Okay,” Jon responds, staring out the window. He hopes it’s true. If not, well- the words are a start, right?

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27334912

[dtmkarma]

Weird Cutie

I had a date with a guy on Bumble we'll call him weird cutie. His pictures weren't very great but I could tell he was cute. We matched and spoke for a few days then decided we would move to texting. He was very weird but good weird so I agreed to meet him the following week. I arrived at Jacks and he was late, I sat for 10mins only to see him coming towards mw. As I was getting ready to leave, he was taller than I thought and had glasses. He was also a little chubby in his belly but had long black hair pulled into a bun. He smiled and joked "are you leaving me, you look so cute". I smiled and shrugged "well you're kinda late so....." "I am but I texted you and I'm here now", he reached down and hugged me then spun me around looking me up and down in my blue dress. I smirked but sat down in the booth. We ordered drinks and food he was more so interesting than I thought he would be, and he was cute. He liked me I could tell by how he moved closer to me in the booth and put his hand on my thigh,reached down and started rubbing my bare legs. I moved his hand and apologized, "I wasnt sure if I would like you so I skipped shaving my legs but in my defense I didnt think you'd be touch me so intimately on the first date either, sorry but theres levels" he removed his hand and asked am I at the level to earn me a kiss, I smiled shyly, he leaned in and I felt my body getting hot, he moved his hand back to my thigh and started rubbing it closer and closer to my center. Before I could blink his lips were on mind and his eyes were closed. This was so weird. Why was this so weird to me..... If been with a guy before but this feel in was so weird. I closed my eyes nd played the instructions in my head on how to kiss(I was a late bloomer and my best friend taught me how to kiss). He started moving when my tongue met his so I broke the kiss worried someone would think our pda was inappropriate. If never displayed such pda openly before, is only normally do it in the comfort of my home because that where it seem like guys was most comfortable but he was different, weird. He smiled at me and the butterflys started, our date lasted 3hrs and when it was time to leave he asked should he follow me home but I reminded him there was levels. His birthday was next week. He invited me to his house to hangout because he didn't consider his birthday a big deal, so we agreed to meet next week. This was Monday. Next week arrived but more specifically his birthday;Tuesday. I had a long day of work and hadn't heard from him so around 1pm I texted him happy birthday. He responded by asking if I would see him, I told him I'd see. By 5:30I had a massive headache and was tired for the day I felt like locking myself in my room and making love to my bed in the form of Zzz. But I had to deposit some money into the bank for a bill to be paid so I told him to text me his address and I'd see him soon. He was in the middle of moving, I had on another dress this one mustard yellow, it looked amazing on my milk chocolate brown skin. He came to the door and looked different, he was cuter than last time and wasnt wearinf his glasses, I was shocked and aroused. I sat on a lazyboy and he sat on the couch, like most millenials he didnt have cable to cut cost on unnecessary bills but he had an xbox and internet. We watched live boxing through it and he started the typical male ploy "why are you sitting all the way over there by yourself, come sit next to me" I thought this way of asking for attention was always cute. I got up and sat beside him "is this close enough for you", he smirked and hugged me while,sniffing me "you smell so good". 😊thank you. His hands roamed my thighs again while he pulled my face into a kiss, he leaned his body back and pulled me on top of him while sliding my dress up over my ass. He smacked it,I pulled myself away he leaned up and grabbed my breast, having his hands touch and caress my body felt so amazing. I couldn't believe it had been 6 years since I had sex but here I was. He lifted my dress over my nd slid his hands under my bra,pinching my nipples, my mind was lost everything was happening so quickly yet it felt like it was all in slow motion. His eyes seemed so dark and focused, one hand pulled me by the waist closer to him. His eyes watched my as he opened his mouth and slid it over my right nipple. He bit down gently and it made my whole body shutter, I moaned and closed my eyes he removed his mouth instantly and pulled my face back,into a deep passionate kiss. My hips started rocking on his lap while his hand massaged my breast. I was feeling hot all over my body again and my panties started to feel like I peed myself. I tried to pull away but he held me close, his hands, his mouth it all was driving me crazy. But the levels I need to remind myself that the ultimate goal was to have him. I made up my mind I wanted him this weird guy I wanted him to be mine. So I snatched myself away and hop off him, "I need to use the bathroom", he looked lost. "Okay..... Its down the stairs to the left." I pulled my dress back down and went to the bathroom, I tried to compose myself and dry myself. I needed to make sure he didnt think I was easy. He got myself to together and went back up the stairs than sat on the couch, this time towards the opposite end. He smirked at me "would you like a drink?".... I smiled "no thank you", "ok well I'm going to make me one" , he went into the kitchen and made himself a drink than came back. He watched me, I stared at the boxing match screaming in my mind to him "come touch me with your soft warm hands again, come put your lips on mine and all over my body." I felt desperate but I didnt show it. I put my feet on the couch, he pulled them towards him and on his lap, he started rubbing them. "So what did you get me for my birthday?" I laughed "my prensence, surprise happy birthday.......just kidding what do you want?" He looked at me and smirked " you said there was levels right, what level does my birthday fall under?" ...... "Idk tell me exactly what you want and ill see if I can make it happen" He looked down at his lap than to me signaling but if he was going to have the balls to ask for what I thought he was asking he was going to have to say it."I'm sorry are you trying to tell me something, what do you want and use your words please."...... He looked nervous "well........ A bj would be nice right now", I laughed and pretended to look shocked for a sec. He smiled, I got off the catch walked to him. We didnt break contact, I got on my knees infront of him still keeping eye contact and asked "are you sure this is what you want for your birthday?" He seemed nervous but whispered "yes". I unbuttoned his pants, zipped down the zipper and reached into his boxers. He looked amazed it was happening, I licked my lips and leabed down I could hear his breath getting heavier before I put my mouth on it. I looked down at it, it was uncircumcised, exactly how I liked it. I licked the tip, his body twitched, he moaned. I put my mouth on the tip and sucked it slowly,swirling my tongue around it. He moaned "fuck" I smirked and looked up at him. He looked vulnerable and shy, I slid my mouth all the way down and opened my mouth wider while remembering to breath through my nose like how this porn star taught me from a video I use to watch repeatedly in college. His hands covered the back of my head and I felt his thrusting deeper in my mouth while moaning "fuck, its so good. God im going to cum", it hasn't seem like a min but as soon as he said "I'm going to cum". I pulled my mouth off his dick. He whimpered "no" but I started jacking him off instantly and he came all over my hand and his stomach. I laughed, he was breathing heavy and covered his face it turned slightly pink. I smirked and asked "are you good sir?" He smiled, "yeah". He got up and went around the corner to the kitchen, I peaked around the corner and watched him clean his self off and come back with a paper towel, he wiped my hand and kissed me. He threw away the paper towel and we sat back on the couch. He laid in between my legs and would,kiss them often while rubbing them. This feeling again was weird. I grabbed my,phone and looked at time it was 9:23pm. Time to go home, I told him to get up I was leaving I was tired he said "you can go to sleep in my bed. He got up and ushered me back down the stairs, the door next to the bathroom was his room. It was filled with Buddha,alcohol bottles, a bike,books and Japanese art on the wall. I wondered if he was Japanese mixed with something, he was racially ambiguous, my thought was lost when he laid on the bed grbbing my hand to pull me on to it too. He held me by the waist and pulled my lips to his again this time sliding his hand down in between my thighs again, he moved my panties to the side and slid a finger in side I broke the kiss to moan I felt my body arch up, he bit at my nipples through my dress as his fingering became more rigorous, I was getting wetter but also nervous. I pulled his hand from,between my thighs and asked him to stop. He pulled away from me "did I do something wrong?" He looked confused. "No, its not that." I got up from the bed. I was nervous I didnt want to say but he was only guy 4 I'd ever been with I was very shy about sex with partners and tried to figure it out for years since having it but I was most embarrassed about squirting. I looked down while embarrassingly confessing "I don't want to,ruin your bed because I squirt" his face looked blank like he was trying to,process how to react. He got off the bed and hugged. This was weird. He held me, I pulled away and walked towards the door, he grabbed me from,behind and held me." Its ok, thats normal" I felt stupid I wanted to go but he started kissing my neck and his hands pulled up my dress making their way to my breast. I could feel wetness sliding down my legs, he squeezed my breast as one hand slid down my panties from behind and his finger back into my wet pussy I he held my body so tight to his and bend me over towards the bed while fingering me again my body felt like it was shaking while I moaned louder and louder I could hear him starting to moan too. My body felt so hot I felt like my stomach was on fire then, it sound like some let air out a waterbed and my body went numb. I was squirting all over his floor and grubbing his sheets so hard. He slid my panties down and and undid his pants pulling his boxers down faster then any thing I've seen. He slid the tip of his dick inside me, it made my body jump. He moaned "fuck". He held my waist and slid some more in, he was teasing me my body was going crazy "ugh its so wet", my body was shuttering again. He pulled out my breathing was heavy. He held my waist and slid his dick all the way inside me and I felt like I was cumming,instantly. He reached up and grabbed my breast while thrusting and moaning "fuck its so tight", he stopped." I dont want to come yet." I asked in between deep breaths " do you have any condoms?" I looked back at him. He pulled out of me, "no......but ill pull out" he sound half way assuring. I quickly pulled my panties up and slid my dress down. "No thank you, im leaving" the thought of a std or pregnancy gave my mind instant sobriety. I quckly exit the room. He stumbled to pull up his boxers and pants. "Wait" called but I was already back up stairs grabbing my keys and shoes. He caught me at the from door "you dont have to,leave", he begged. "Its late, I have to work in the morning and cant be late for work" he looked disappointed but kiss me on the forehead and on the lips. "Ok ill walk you to your car. He follwed me outside to my car, he held my hand walking me my car. This experience felt so weird. He kissed me again before I got in the car. Then went back inside. I screamed in my mind "ughhhhh I wanted to fuck him,without seeming like a hoe,easy or a slur. Damn double standards for dating. Fuck fuck fuck" I started the car. Put it in drive and drove home. Part1

[cassandrapentayaaaaas]

6, 7, and 12 for the OC Codex Prompts!

I had way too much fun with this, and things got a little lengthy. Thank you so much for the ask!!!! :) (also, I’m sorry it took so long to respond 😓)

All of these are about Peter.

answers for 7 and 12 are very long, and located below the cut 😬

6. someone describing a time your OC helped them

Codex Entry: Bill of Sale

Mumma,

Don worry bou payin the Bann anymore, I have it covered.

The Quizitor came thru today. He heard me arguin with one of Ogden’s brutes bout not bein able ta pay our taxes. I was tryin ta be quiet bout it but Magsley woul’n hear of it. It got heated an Magsley banged on tha table. All ma coins scatered an the Quizitor helpde me pick em up afer he shouted Magsley out the door an down tha hill fer bein onkind. The Quizitor ask what was tha trouble an ah told him weren’t nothin ta worry bout.

He asked me for sum elfroot, an ah gave it to ‘im. Only 30 pieces, but he payed me two thousand in gold! We can keep the shack warm this winter, mumma. An tha Bann won be on our doorstep again anytime soon.

I shall be home directly. Give ma love to Northbert an tha sows.

your son Cuthbert

7. someone describing a time your OC hurt them

Codex Entry: Letter dated 19th Justinian, 9:28 Dragon

Harland,

The neighbor boy nearly killed Brian.

They were playing in the ‘pond’ near the Greeley estate (I would like to take a moment to point out that Brian claimed he had ‘eternal permission’ from you to play in that tic-ridden mud-hole. Why in the Maker’s name would you give him ‘eternal permission’ to do anything, let alone to swim in that disgusting puddle??). Apparently the youngest Trevelyan boy has magic. He froze their legs from their knees to their mid calves in the water, ‘by accident.’ There’s no ‘accidents’ with these mages, Harland.

The boys were stuck together out in the shallows for a full half hour, until one of our staff heard them hollering and came running. The ice was too thick for the children to break through, but the servants had them out in a matter of minutes. Apparently the Trevelyan boy also had burns on his arms from yet more magic.

I’m certain he was trying to trap Brian in that swamp long enough to summon a demon and possess him. Maker bless those servants for rescuing our sweet, innocent boy before that could happen.

The Bann and his wife have the good sense and basic, human decency to have that monstrous child of theirs carted off to the circle. Brian keeps insisting that the other boy had no knowledge of his own magic before the incident. Could you imagine? There is absolutely no conceivable way someone could harbor something as vile as magic within themselves and not feel tainted by it. The family must have known he was a mage at birth. That’s when they show signs of magic, is it not? Why allow him to live outside the circle for eleven whole years, if they knew? Such disgusting selfishness, on their part.

Please return home, promptly,

your loving wife,

Margreth

A note is attached to the letter and is addressed to Peter Trevelyan, of the Ostwick circle, dated 8th Drakonis, 9:36 Dragon:

Petey,

Found this in Father’s things. I’m sorry they had the story so wrong, and I’m still sorry you burned yourself trying to get us out. I shouldn’t have suggested melting the ice, but you were brave to try. I hope the circle has treated you well. You were always a sharp learner, so I’d imagine you’re doing just fine.

Can you have visitors? I’m in town for Father’s funeral, and I’d like to catch up, if you have the time.

Best,

Brian

12. your OC overheard while drunk

(it’s not really a conversation that’s “overheard,” but I think it still sort of works… also, Peter’s timeline is the one where I super-hardcore ship Cassaric. Just a heads-up)

Codex Entry: Letter found in the desk of Kirkwall’s Vicomte

Hawke,

Remember the first thing you said about the Inquisitor when you arrived at Skyhold? You hadn’t even seen the kid up close yet, but the very first time you spotted the back of his head from across the great hall, you called it: “bet he’s never been drunk, but he’s a giggler when he is.” Why that was your initial assessment, I’ll never know. But you hit the nail right on the head.

It’s been a year-and-a-half since we snuffed out Corypheus, and the kid’s already taken down a dragon god and a titan, since then. A fucking titan, Hawke. Lately, Thedas been throwing the Inquisitor parades, and balls, and dinners like they’re all going out of style. Ruffles is thrilled with it, and Boomer seems to suffer it with a decent amount of dignity. I think he’s just happy to have her beside him after a year spent Maker-knows-where.

Anyway, their party made its way up to the Marches this week to work out some land disputes between nobles in a couple of the rowdier city states. Boomer looked tense—more tense than usual—and to be honest, I’ve been pouting quite a lot since Cassandra headed out to train her new Seekers in the Hunterhorns. So, I dragged the kid out for a drink. Which turned into two drinks. Then six. And that was bout all it took.

He started giggling like a mad man. I wish you could have heard it, Hawke—it was the kind of sound that cleanses the soul.

“I’ve never been drunk before. It feels funny. Is it supposed t-*hic*?” That’s the first thing that came out of his mouth once the alcohol started to kick in, and I’m glad the hiccup that interrupted him kept him from being sick all down my front. I was wearing a new shirt. I wasn’t going to sacrifice it. Not even for the Inquisitor. “Thank you for being here for my first time. You’re a good friend, Varric. Very good. Josephine likes you, too—did you know that I love her, Varric?” he tried to nod his head, but it just sort of swiveled around like a lazy spinning top. “I do. So much that sometimes, she’s all I can think about, and it—*hic-giggle*—it makes me dizzy. She’s my happy… thing. Thought?… Yeah, the phrase is ‘happy thought’… I think?”

“That sounds about right, Boomer.”

“Thank you, Varric…” he patted me on the shoulder, then slumped against the bar, one arm dangling at his side, while the other curled around his tankard like a boozed-up python. “I’d like to marry her,” he smiled. “Or she can marry me, if she wants to. I just have to propose first. I think that’s why I’m so stressed. I shouldn’t be–whoa–” he started to slide off the bar top, so he clutched my arm for support. The man has a grip like a vice. “We’ve discussed it. It’s just asking that’s scary. Can the asking make things go wrong when you’d already do anything for each other? She loves me. I love her… I’ve said that… but I mean it.” He paused and went sort of crosseyed, lifting his head off the table to stare intently at my face. “Varric,” he said, very seriously, “did you know you have the moon *hic-giggle* on your nose?”

He booped my nose, Hawke.

Boomer fit in two choruses of Bad Children All Get Eaten on the way back to his inn. Even singing loudly, he has a decent voice. Just before we got to the door, he stopped me, hands on both of my shoulders, staring me down like what he was about to say could change my world. “You marry a lady because she makes you feel like you’re drunk and anything is possible… but maybe without all the sick.”

“’Sick?’ You haven’t even thrown-” I should have known better, Hawke. You say it hasn’t happened, and then it does, because the Maker is a sadist. Luckily, Boomer only coated my boots.

He’s a good kid. And I think he’s right about why you marry a lady.

I miss you, Hawke,

Varric

Next to the note is a receipt for a Kirkwall jeweler, and a memo:

Ask the Seeker to marry me.

(author’s note: I headcanon that Varric doesn’t end up proposing until the Exalted Council. So Cassandra’s confusion about a proposal is misplaced, not incorrect. The book he hands her? Engagement present. The longing look as the stand side-by-side watching the sunset? Intentional… no one will ever be able to convince me that the devs don’t ship Cassarric, too( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) )

[malcolmteller-blog]

[HORROR] Things on the Internet

You never imagine that strange things will or even could happen to you, when you live a life like mine. Me? It’s been cookie cutter and bland, all the way through. When I was in high school, I never had any amazing, formative adventures or experiences like you see in all the TV shows and movies. It was just this boring slog of go to school, go to class, come home, play video games, go to bed, wake up, repeat. Same deal with university - go to class, come home, hang out on the Internet, study, and repeat.

So you can imagine how surprised I was when, at the ripe old age of twenty-four, when I was working at a bookstore after I’d graduated from university, the strangest things in the world started to happen to me.

I should explain why I was where I was at. I graduated at the age of twenty-two with a largely useless degree in Political Science. I had no real connections or relevant work experience, so off to retail I went. I may not have achieved my full potential, but I still had to pay the bills, y’know? Be honest with you, I was pretty much aimless at that point. I knew I wanted more, and I guess I knew deep down that I could be more, but I didn’t know how to achieve it.

Then I found Chatroom Pandemonium.

See, I’d never really had a lot of friends. Well, I’ll just come out with it: I was kind of a loser. Still am. So, I sought refuge on the Internet. By the time all this started to happen, I’d be spending tons of hours on it every night, just reading on my various interests for hours, in addition to streaming Netflix and reading comic book scans.

It was on a March evening that I somehow - I can’t remember how, now - stumbled upon an odd website. It was said in a number of these alt-culture message boards to be ‘the most amazing thing ever’ and ‘everything a person could want’. I go there, and… nothing. Blank, black page. ‘Bullshit,’ I muttered to myself, and navigated away. I then decided to watch some Netflix, so I streamed one of those popular superhero shows for three hours then turned my computer off and went to bed.

I slept peacefully, and woke up early - oddly early, given I’d only gone to bed like three hours before. It was three in the morning, and the first thing I noticed was that my computer was on. It was so strange, because I knew I’d turned my monitor and tower off before I went to bed. How could it just turn itself on? But there was something else - it was on the page that I’d closed before, the one where there was nothing on it. Only now, there was a text box there. I slowly got out of bed and walked over to my desk and sat down, squinting my eyes as I leaned in to read what was on the screen. I soon understood that it was a box for me to type a username into to chat in a chatroom, one called ‘Chatroom Pandemonium’.

So, very much curious, I did so. I entered the name “JohnTheMonk” (an old handle of mine from when I was in high school) and clicked ‘JOIN’.

Chatroom prompt shows up, and I noticed it only had one other person in it. His handle was THE_BELIEVER. To make this go simpler, I’ll type up the chatlog and intersperse it with my own feelings and reactions that I had at the time.

THE_BELIEVER: Welcome:)

Now, I had no idea who this guy was, but I was mildly curious. So, I decided to spark up a conversation.

JOHNTHEMONK: hey, sup

I waited a few minutes - oddly long, where chatrooms are concerned (at least in my experience). Finally, he responded.

THE_BELIEVER: im happy youre here. i can tell already that youre a special one

Now, this got me kind of creeped out. I mean, this guy didn’t even know me, but he was saying all this stuff about me?

JOHNTHEMONK: umm..okay.

His next response came immediately.

THE_BELIEVER: im going to come see you. then we’ll have a real good time :)

At this point, I’m basically like “K, fuck this.” So I just logged off, closed the browser, and went back to bed. Didn’t even say goodbye. As far as I was concerned, that was the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

I woke up a few hours later, got up and showered, got dressed, the whole deal, and went to work. Day went by pretty casually. It was just boring, you know? Bland with not much happening, same as usual for my life. Customers come in, ask about books, I ring them through the cash register, I socialize with my co-workers, that deal.

So I get off work in the evening and I’m walking home. Then my phone dings, so I check it. It’s from a private number and it reads, “it was really rude of you to leave the chatroom without saying goodbye.”

What. The. Fuck.

How the fuck did this asshole get my number? This was getting really scary, and I wasn’t okay with it. But I had no idea how to find out how he got my number, so I just set my phone to not accept texts or phone calls from private numbers. I also resolved to strongly consider changing my phone number later on.

Here’s the thing, though: it didn’t end there.

I was at the comic shop a week later, looking to get a certain item. That’s when the next phase of things started happening.

“Hey,” I asked the clerk who was standing behind the counter, “Do you guys happen to have the latest Hellblazer trade?”

The clerk nodded, pointed out where that title is usually kept, and off I went. I get there and I’m scanning the shelf, and then… then I heard something.

“I haven’t forgotten you.”

It was a thin, small, kind of high-pitched voice. I jumped, kind of, and looked around quickly. No one was around me. Then I heard it speak again.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten me.”

I looked around more. No one there.

I was getting freaked out at this point, so I needed to get out. So I did. Before I knew it, I was out the door and pounding down the sidewalk, trying to shake this. Now I was hearing things? The hell?

But it didn’t stop. The voice kept talking. “I’m going to be there soon, and we’re going to have so much fun.” It sounded almost giddy.

How did I feel at the time? Well, my heart was pounding, and my blood was pumping, and I felt completely on edge - goosebumps all over. What the hell was going on? Two possibilities: something from beyond (as crazy as that sounded) was stalking me, or my mental state was broken. Neither was a comforting thought.

As I walked and desperately tried, and failed, to ignore the voice speaking more and more into my ears and head, I tried to work this out. This all started with that chatroom, and that started with all the postings on the Internet that were gushing about that URL. Nothing about that site had been normal or typical. First time I go there, it’s a blank page. Then my computer and monitor turn on by themselves and navigate back to the website, by themselves, where now it’s a chatroom login page.

This didn’t make any sense, and it was scary as hell. I was on edge the entire walk transit commute home, especially because this voice just would not shut the fuck up. The entire bus ride, it kept telling me all excited how it was gonna come see me and how I’d be ‘changed for the better’ and how ‘pain can be beautiful, and you’ll find that out too’ and all other sorts of horrifying shit. When I got home, I immediately dug out my headphones, put them on and plugged them into my phone and turned on some music to max volume to drown out what I was hearing. It worked.

So, what to do? After some thought, I guess I convinced myself that this had to be a mental health crisis. Like many people, my mind defaulted to the ‘logical’ explanation. I wasn’t at the point where I could convince myself that this was an actual spiritual entity. I just wasn’t wired that way.

So, long story short, I made an appointment with my doctor, got some meds, and everything quieted down. No more voices. At that point, I was satisfied - everything was fine and good, and so was I.

So, back to my boring old life. I went back to the drudgery that was work, while also trying to think on how I could improve my life. Maybe I could go to grad school. Maybe I could try to, somehow, launch a career based on the qualifications and credentials I had now.

So, one night, a week or so later, I was doing web searches for job postings and internships I could possibly take up when I heard something from my living room. I looked at my slightly open door and focused my ears. It was… my TV? How could my TV be on? I specifically remembered having turned it off when I got home that day.

So, I walked out to the living room and checked the TV. It was on to a channel of static. Idly picking up the remote control from the coffee table, I started changing the channel. All static.

‘Well, shit,’ I thought to myself. I immediately assumed it was a problem with the cable company. So I slid my phone out of my pocket to call them, when… I heard the voice.

“You keep running from me, Michael,” it said. My eyes immediately went wide with fear, my blood running cold and freezing inside of me. I, frozen in place in a mix of abject terror and shock, looked up at the TV, which now had a figure on it. It held a basic humanoid shape, but it… it couldn’t be human. Though the figure was largely cloaked in shadows and darkness, I could see its shape. Its head looked misshapen, like there were horns or something coming out of it. As well, the way the sides of its head looked… it looked as if the skin was ridged or something. Logically, the immediate conclusion would be that this was an elaborate prank, but deep down I knew - I knew - that it wasn’t. This was real, and horrifyingly so. I could write off the texts. I could even write off this. But I couldn’t write off the combination of this and the texts and the voice speaking to me out of thin air.

As I dwelt on this, the figure on the TV continued speaking. “I’m going to be arriving soon,” it said, with a happy edge to its voice, “real soon. We’re going to have so much fun then.”

Then the TV switched off. After a moment of me standing there dazed, I hesitantly turned it back on, and it turned on to the standard TV service, like nothing had changed.

This was the point where I decided to go to work figuring out what was going on. I spent the next three days, all day, reading up on that website, what people had said or written about it. After a day, I found one piece of information that I found really helpful. I’ve decided to copy and paste it here:

POSTED BY: TheNightMan Lots of people wonder about what the Pandemonium website leads to, because it appears as different things to different people. But those who have gotten through… well, different things happen. One person got through, and according to reports, months later murdered his entire family before killing himself, but not before talking online about having contacted something. Others report friends or family getting through and talking to people - or figures, whatever they are or whoever they are - and then shortly after their mental state undergoing a rapid deterioration until they had to be institutionalized. Then there’s the murders. One person reported being stalked by some figure from that site, online and in their dreams, until one day their remains - their ripped apart, torn apart - remains were found in their apartment, with no leads on who did it. So, the question remains: who or what is behind the website? I found one lead, in the writings of some hackers from the early nineties who were involved in the occult. It’s… well, it’s batshit crazy, but I feel the need to include it. One guy, who called himself ‘a Cyber-Mystic’, says that there exists spirits - demons, entities, whatever - that exist online, wholly online, in the electronic signals sent to and from across computer networks. Then, when they want to, they show up in the real world. Crazy? Yeah. But I’ve tried to figure out what else could be at work here, and I’m all fuckin’ out of ideas.

It was crazy and insane, but it wouldn’t leave my mind. Now, I should describe my mental and emotional state at this point. At the end of the three days of researching, finding out what I just laid out and other possible ways out of this crisis (but none that I was really all that certain would work), I was just fucked up. That’s the best way to put it. I couldn’t sleep. Every small noise made me jump. My heart was constantly pounding its way out of my chest and I’d never been so afraid. Nights were a terror to get through, because every small bump in the night made me certain that this, this thing had finally shown up to come get me.

It all came to a head two days after I finished doing my research. I was getting ready for bed, and had just finished crying my eyes out in utter terror because I was so terrified that I was fucked with absolutely no hope. I had just finished doing minor chores and other stuff around my room, and had crawled into bed. I shut my eyes and tried to force myself to go to sleep. An hour passed, and I was still awake. As I was starting to despair of ever sleeping again, I… I heard it. A very, very loud sound like a rushing of wind and flame. I opened my eyes and saw in front of my bed this column of flame, that lit up my entire room. Then it disappeared, and, well, there it was. The thing that had been stalking me. I can’t describe it. It was so monstrous, so horrifying. Its long claws, and its razor sharp teeth that dripped blood, and its skin with ridges all over. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid I was gonna have a heart attack any minute, and I knew - I knew - that this was it. I was done. It was gonna kill me, or take me back to where it was from, or what the fuck ever, and at that moment I wished that I had been a religious person so I could have some protection.

It tried to move forward, to crawl onto my bed to get me. It tried. But it stopped. Something was stopping it.

I realized what happened, and my fear disappeared. Son of a bitch, I thought to myself, the seal worked.

As it shoved itself against the invisible barrier more and more, presumably trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, I felt relief flood through me that that protective measure I’d found in my research on all this had actually worked. First I grinned. Then I laughed - a confident, mocking laugh. I was safe! Then I decided to push my luck. I spoke the incantation of the Mother’s Heart, and just like I expected, the demon was engulfed in bright, vicious blue flame. Its screams sounded like nothing I’d ever heard before. If I had to try and describe it, I’d say try to imagine the cry of a lion mixed with a high-pitched scream, but even that isn’t really close. I watched, my eyes wide open and this big ass smile on my face, as this thing flailed and threw itself against the invisible barrier in all directions, the blue flame eating away at its skin and form. Finally, after a few minutes, it fell to the ground - dead.

I slowly got out of bed and crept over to the corpse. I looked at it. It looked ugly as fuck, to be honest - I mean, not only was it ugly when it was alive, but now it was burned to death. As I looked down at it, I noticed that its flesh wasn’t just burned, it was burned well enough that it was cooked. As I smelt its roasted smell - something like steak - I got an idea. Like, okay, it was a really, really fucked up idea, but equally cool. After as few moments of consideration, I - with a giant smile on my face - went to work putting it into action.

Anyways, now it’s the evening of St. Patrick’s Day, and everything’s fine. I didn’t even have to dispose of the body, it just dissolved into white powder by itself within twenty four hours. That considered, it’s a real good thing I managed to cut off a bunch of the meat from the bones before it all dissolved. You’re probably wondering how the demon meat tasted. Honestly? Like fish. Weird, right? But, hey, now I can say that I’ve done something nobody’s ever done.

But some weird stuff has happened. I feel great - real great. Better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life, than I ever imagined I could feel. Some other stuff, too. My eyes have been changing colour, and I’ve started to notice odd ridges and bumps showing up beneath my skin. I suppose I should be concerned, maybe even scared, but for some reason I can’t find it within myself to give a damn.

So, that’s how my past while has been. How about yours?