#Ravage's vibe check

[dontpetmeibite]

green

<3

I'm trying to be more interactive! But yes there are times when I am literally a creature in the forest, chasing rabbits and climbing trees and observing people I think I may like ... especially BW me :)

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

[ghostedbunnie]

little things with tf141

little domestic moments I find oddly charming about each of the members.

warnings: suggestive

SIMON: he believes he forgot how to simply be. after every messed up thing in his life, he doesn't know how to not think four steps ahead in every situation. he still double checks the windows and doors before going to bed and sleeps so light that a feather fluttering to the ground would get his attention.

but most of the tension in his muscles leaves when you are around. he sits with his thighs spread far apart on the couch, watching a movie you like even though he couldn't care less about it. what he does care about is pulling you in between his legs when you bring popcorn for your little movie night, the hold on your middle almost makes you drop the bowl. you scold him, like you would a misbehaving pet and he only responds with a grunt that you feel through your back as you it's flush to his chest.

PRICE: the biggest handyman there ever was. his pride would take the biggest hit if you needed to call someone else. some other man. usually he won't even let you know he did anything, you'll just end up piecing the information together when the light in the garage works after months of you putting it off because it's high up and you get dizzy trying to reach it or when the stair that always creaked under your foot stops making noise after you mention how it drives you crazy to him.

when you bring it up to him, he only shrugs with a satisfied smile. "i don't do it for a reward, honey." but his words don't match the glint in his eyes, like he is gonna eat you up for dinner later.

JOHNNY: very much gives off the vibes of a velcro dog. wherever you are, he is. he is always right behind you or in your way and he is absolutely shameless about it. if you're baking he sticks to your back with his head on your shoulder, occasionally nibbling at your neck or nuzzling his stubble into it for a sliver of your attention when you tell him it's ticklish. when you are taking a shower at night he is either brushing his teeth right next to the shower curtain or slipping inside because "c'mon bonnie, cannae argue wit' savin' water." as if he doesn't let the water run while he inevitably bends you over to ravage you.

GAZ: brings you flowers at least once a week when he's not deployed. always says he doesn't need a reason to give his girl flowers. at this point every time he passes by a flower shop he thinks of you and since he's been doing it for a while he has the flower language down to a t. so much so he enjoys having you realize what each of these flowers mean especially when it clicks that he used to give you flowers even before when you were only childhood friends. every time he would drop by your house after coming back from deployment he would hand you a tulip with a soft smile and mess up your hair.

his smile only widens when he sees you google the meaning of tulips in flower language. hopeless love.

[cuntdestroyer3000]

The hand that feeds

moodboard just for vibes, not a physical description of reader, dividers by @cg1rl

Godless pt 2: dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's your first morning at Joel's camp. You try to adapt to your new life and struggle with who to trust. However, you can't help but enjoy the way Joel provides for you, or the way he fucks you. Dual POVs, part one here, playlist

Word count: 8.4k

Warnings: dark, dead dove, dubcon, noncon (reader doesn't have any other choice), stockholm syndrome, reader is captive and considered to be Joel's property, unprotected piv sex, voyeurism, light somnophlia. HELLA SMUT, smut all around. dom/sub dynamics, praise/degradation kink, sir kink, no physical description of reader, No use of y/n.

A/N: I'm FINALLY DONE. I fr thought I'd never finish but I'm glad to finally get this posted. Thanks for being patient and pls use tags if u reblog <3

As dawn light filtered through the thin curtains on the windows, Joel stirred. Rising with the sun did, as always. There was a lot that needed to be done and he found that laying in bed for too long led to unwanted rumination. The dark thoughts he fought constantly began threatening his mind the minute he awoke.

This morning however, he let himself linger. It had been a very long time since he'd woken up feeling the warmth of a woman in his bed. You were cuddled into him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically. He took in your peaceful expression, eventually letting his eyes fall to your bare breasts.

He pulled back to better see you, running a thumb over one of your nipples, watching it harden.

He cupped a breast and squeezed it gently. You shifted a little and he massaged you, his eyes falling over you hungrily. His hand moved, following the curve of your waist up and down. He played with you for a while; he stroked your side, ran his rough fingertips over your soft stomach, and snaked his hand around to squeeze your ass. He let his fingers drift down to your pussy and smirked when he felt how wet you were. He wondered what you'd dreamt about, if it had been about him. He played with your clit a little, making you moan softly in your sleep.

It took everything in his power not to lose control and ravage you right this moment. He'd really been keeping himself in check since he'd acquired you but the mere sight of you drove him crazy.

He had felt the same way when he'd seen you at the saloon, he'd tried to ignore it but he had already started talking himself into finding a way to take you back with him.

He figured you were used to being fucked often, but he was still holding back. You were just such an exciting new toy, there felt like endless possibilities for what he could do to you. But he didn't want to break you in all at once. He was a calculated man, always careful with how he handled you. But there was a yearning he constantly kept at bay. It had taken everything in him not to rip your clothes off the minute he saw you.

He savored you for as long as he could, before finally tearing himself away. You were hard to resist but there were things that needed his attention urgently.

He sat up in bed, rubbed a hand down his face and stretched, trying to ease the aching in his joints.

He pulled up his jeans but left them undone. Donning nothing else but his boots and jacket, he headed outside with his rifle.

The morning air was misty, a thick fog hung over the trees like a blanket. Joel imagined it would make one feel at peace. He wouldn’t know, he’s never felt at peace, well maybe once…a long time ago.

Some men were up and milling about. Two guys were sitting at the fire pit, smoking and taking periodic swigs from their flasks.

“Mornin’ Joel.” One of them greeted him and he nodded in return.

He surveyed the grounds once more and, deciding everything was normal, headed off in a direction he hadn't been in in awhile.

-

The crisp dawn air made his cheeks cold and he shivered slightly as his nipples hardened. He trekked through the chaparral terrain, looking for game.

He liked hunting, he never felt more in control than he did when he was out in the woods with his gun. Although being between your legs might start coming close.

Joel was able to catch some rabbits but he still wasn't satisfied. Besides, the sun had just started warming his skin. He decided he wouldn't leave until he caught something worthy of bringing back. He had a new mouth to feed after all.

After some time, he finally caught something, a buck. Impressing himself- though he'd never admit that to anyone.

He slung the beast over his broad shoulders, his jacket hanging from its antlers and the dead rabbits swinging from where they were tied to his hips.

-

It was later in the morning when you finally awoke. You opened your eyes blearily as light filled the cabin. Stretching out in Joel's bed, you couldn't help but feel comfortable under all the soft blankets. The cabin looked nice in the daylight and you could make out the dust particles in the rays of sun coming in.

You weren't sure how to feel. You were still upset about being taken away, but you were glad you were living in a house with a warm bed. Then there was the way Joel had fucked you last night. You couldn't help but shiver at the memory, him pummeling your cunt in a way you'd never experienced before.

You pulled on a thin slip and wrapped a shawl around your shoulders. You hesitantly made your way out the door, the sparse grass poking your bare feet.

-

Squinting in the bright sunlight, you saw Joel emerging from the tree line with a dead animal slung over his bare shoulders. You gasped softly at the display of strength and prowess as he walked past his cabin, making eye contact with you.

The sight of him rendered you breathless. A familiar aching bloomed between your legs as you took in his pumped up muscles, his bare torso slick with sweat and blood from the animal. He looked so wild, almost as if he himself was a predator of the unforgiving wilderness. The dark look in his eyes awakened something primal within you.

You shivered despite the warm air and pulled your shawl tighter around you. Your knees felt weak and you leaned against the doorframe for support. Picking up on his obvious effect on you, Joel gave you the faintest smirk and hoisted the dead buck up over his shoulders with ease, his hungry gaze lingering on you as he passed by.

You stared after him, watching his muscular back as he moved towards a nearby shed. You watched from afar as he dropped the heavy carcass behind him, rolling out his neck and shoulders.

His men were in jubilation at his catch but Joel remained stoic, providing merely a nod to the man thumping his shoulder.

As he turned around, his eyes fixed on you hungrily and he set off purposefully in your direction. You stumbled backwards from the doorframe, not expecting this reaction, worried you had somehow done something wrong.

He appeared in the doorway shortly after, startling you even though you knew he was coming. Blood streaked down his bare chest and stomach. Your gaze traveled down to his ample package, threatening to escape from his undone jeans. His eyes were wild and he was breathing heavily.

You were simultaneously terrified and aroused by him. You backed into the wall and looked around with uncertainty as he slowly made his way over to you with heavy footsteps. He got close to you, crowding your space, causing your nose to wrinkle at the smell of the blood still on him.

"Joel..." You mumbled.

"Look at me." he said softly.

You forced your eyes up to meet his. His gaze was dark and piercing, you weren't sure what he was going to do. You wanted him but the blood and stench of dead deer was disgusting you.

He reached out for your face with a bloody hand and you flinched back instinctively. Irritation flashed across his face and you felt a bolt of fear go through you. You'd actively disobeyed him.

He looked down at himself and scoffed,

"You afraid of a little blood?" He taunted you.

You shrugged and looked at the floor.

"You don't like it when I catch food for you?" He pressed, causing your stomach to turn over.

You quickly shook your head,

"N-no sir-"

He got closer, towering over you and crowding your space. You winced as you pressed yourself against the wall, struggling to breathe due to the odor.

You tried to even your breathing as you looked up at him, his dark eyes bored into you. It frightened you how you could never gauge what he was thinking. His expression was always hard and unreadable. He hadn’t explicitly done anything to you yet to make you fear him so, but the stories you’d heard about him while living in the brothel were enough to chill you to the bone.

After a few tense seconds he scoffed,

"Guess that whorehouse was awful fancy." He moved back towards the door, but you remained frozen.

"Get on the bed." He said flatly, "I'll be back."

-

While Joel cleaned up, you situated yourself on the bed, unsure of what position to be in. Your heart pounded as you anticipated his return.

You knew what he wanted, he had probably been out in the woods for hours. He was no doubt exhausted and craved a release. It was typical of the men you spent your time around. Tired and tense, craving control.

You couldn't help but crave Joel too. You couldn't get the way he had mounted you last night out of your head. The way that dark hunger had filled his eyes, thrilling and frightening you at the same time. You also thought about how wrong and fucked up it all was. He had taken you away from your home, and was keeping you as his own personal whore. The brothel wasn't much better, but at least there you’d had your friends.

You tried to calm yourself down by thinking about how he's been caring for you, providing for you. You remembered how he had made you feel last night. You'd laid with much worse than him, men who didn't know how to truly please a woman.

Joel did.

You're lost in your thoughts when you notice him standing in the doorway, his torso glistening from washing himself off. You look down coyly with your hands in your lap.

He slowly made his way over, his bulge at your eye level, his still unzipped jeans accentuating his rock hard cock. A wave of arousal rolled through you, your nipples hardening and pussy growing wet in anticipation of what he was going to do to you.

You slowly looked up to him, his stare intense and his soft brown hair unkempt. He held you gently by your chin with a rough hand as you gazed up at him submissively. With his other hand, he tugged on the strap of your dress.

"Take this off." His voice was low and gravelly, making your head spin.

You weren't sure why, but the command sent a thrill through you. To be fair, it wasn't like you had a choice anyway.

"Yes sir." You said quietly, trying to push down how eager you were to obey him. In truth, your core lit up with excitement as you lifted your dress over your head.

His hand cupped your cheek as you sat, completely bare for him, the illusion of sweetness made you melt and without thinking you leaned your head forward against his soft stomach.

Joel chuckled softly at the gesture, running a large hand over your head, holding you against him. He was surprised at how easy it all was, how easily you obeyed him. You'd seemed to have fallen into your role of a submissive whore quickly, and it was hard for him to tell if you were just playing the part or if you really wanted him. Your cunt felt good squeezing him either way though.

He quickly slid a hand into his pants, freeing his aching cock. You had your eyes closed so you didn't even realize what was happening until it bumped against your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him, knowing what he wanted. He stared down at you with anticipation, his eyes blown out with lust. His hand tightened around your hair, pulling you closer to him.

You couldn't help the fear that rose within you. Sure men had used your mouth before at the brothel, but Joel's cock was much bigger than any of theirs. You were worried about being able to take it all.

Joel clocked your hesitation and inhaled sharply, yanking your hair harder.

"The fuck are you waiting for?" He sneered.

His harshness shocked you, especially compared to the way he'd held you last night.

"I-" you started before you were interrupted by Joel shoving his cock into your open mouth, making you gag.

You choked on his thick length as he ruthlessly fucked your face.

You tried your best to breathe through your nose as you choked and drooled on his cock. You stared up at him through teary eyes. His muscles flexed as he thrust into your mouth, his beefy chest heaving. 

His brow furrowed as he moaned, gasping and throwing his head back. You couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked like this, both in control and a slave to his desires.

Your admiration of him was cut short as you gagged especially hard. The feeling sent a bolt through your pussy and you moaned around him.

"Ohhh yeah baby." Joel laughed as he watched you drool around him, spit dripping down onto your tits, "You like chokin' on this cock don't you."

Your moan turned into a gag as he grazed the back of your throat again. You'd become accustomed to having men use your mouth, you'd liked to think you developed some skill in the area. But Joel was not like the men in your town. He was longer, thicker, rougher. He held your head in place as he fucked your mouth, not seeming to care when you gagged especially loud.

You felt fear rise within you whenever your stomach turned over and it felt as though bile would rise in your throat. Whenever you would gag especially hard, Joel would ease you off of him, but only a little bit so that you could breathe before fucking into you again.

Unhinged and fueled with adrenaline from his hunt, he fucked you until he came. He was so pent up, all he could focus on was his impending release. Even when you started to make desperate noises and fought to pull your head off of him.

His grip on your hair only tightened as he forced you down, finally coming deep down your throat. You coughed and sputtered around him and gasped for air when he eventually let you go, his come dribbling messily down your chin where you'd failed to swallow it.

You panted as he sighed and released you, tucking himself back into his jeans but still leaving them open. You looked up to see that he hadn't shut the door, and several of his men were watching you. You weren't sure how long they had been there for and your face grew hot with embarrassment as you quickly looked down and wiped your mouth.

Joel huffed out a laugh,

"No use bein' all shy about it now, girl."

You didn't respond, still trying to clean up your face. He grabbed your chin roughly and made you look up at him.

"Answer me when I talk to you." He spat.

"I-I'm sorry." You scrambled to please him. Despite your past experience in the brothel, you still found yourself feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of his men.

Joel followed your gaze to the doorway and then looked back at you.

"Don't mind them sweetheart. They just like watching."

You nodded shakily.

"You're used to bein' watched' aren't you?" His voice dropped lower, the rasp of it making your pussy even wetter.

You hesitated for a moment too long and his hand reached down to grab your neck forcefully.

"I asked you a fucking question!" He shook you causing you whimper as his grip got tighter, your head starting to feel fuzzy.

"Yes sir!" You gasped.

He let go of you and stepped back with a smirk.

"Tell me what you like, baby." He murmured as his men began to trickle into the room.

You couldn't ignore the way your pussy bloomed with arousal. You could feel yourself slipping away into this role, it was already starting to feel natural. You hated the excitement you felt at the thought of being put on display by Joel. But then again, if you were going to be doing this no matter what, you might as well enjoy yourself. You told yourself that this was no different than the brothel, where you serviced multiple men a day and were often watched during it.

"I-" You bit your lip and let your eyes travel over his men's hungry stares before finally settling on Joel. You told him what he wanted to hear, but figured it wouldn't hurt to tell him what felt good for you as well.

"I like being watched." You mumbled, and after a pause you gained a little more confidence, "I like being watched when my cunt gets used." You said softly, locked in an intense stare with Joel.

You swore you could see his breath hitch, his gaze grew even hungrier, spurring you on.

"I like it when you give me orders." You continued, "I like it when...when you tell me I'm good." You finished the last sentence even softer. That one held the most truth, all you had ever really wanted was to be good.

Joel walked up and ran his hand over your head, cupping the side of your cheek in the way that made your heart flutter. He smiled down at you like he had when he'd given you his jacket at the campfire last night.

"You are good." He murmured.

He pushed you back uncharacteristically gently unlike he had the night before and you laid back, spreading your legs open compliantly for him. You couldn't deny how eager you were to give in to him, especially after the events of this morning. Watching him provide for you like that, catching such impressive game all by himself. He smirked as he viewed your cunt, glistening with the evidence of his effect on you.

He stepped aside and turned to his men.

"Prettiest little pussy in the whorehouse, n' it's all mine."

You throbbed sickeningly in response. You were trying to let go, you kept telling yourself that this was the same as the brothel. But you knew it wasn't. There was no Mr. Polk around here to make sure you didn't get too roughed up, or too humiliated. These were outlaws, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted.

"I love fucking her little whore pussy." One of the younger men piped up.

Joel turned to him,

"You loved fucking her little whore pussy, Beans. You ain't gettin' any more of it."

The man, apparently named Beans, frowned and a few of the other men grumbled, obviously disgruntled at the news that they didn't get to play with Joel's new toy.

He turned back to you,

"She's all mine." He nearly growled. You felt a twisted sort of relief flood through you. At least Joel was the only man who would be fucking you, and he did it so well. If you were his property, wouldn't he do anything to protect you?

You rapidly rationalized being on display like a piece of meat and watched with heavy lidded eyes as Joel reached forwards and slowly circled your clit with his thumb. You sighed and arched your back as he moved down to your opening, spreading your wetness all over. He applied more pressure onto your clit, watching you closely as you started to fall apart.

The pleasure dulled the constant grief that you had been feeling since you'd left home, at least it was a bit of a distraction. You let yourself get lost in it and writhed under the eyes of all his men. Moaning loudly, you gave them the show they were all so desperate for as Joel easily drew an orgasm from you.

You heard him laugh before he landed a spank to your pussy making you cry out and spread your legs even wider.

The men in the small cabin murmured in amazement. Your cheeks heated up as you realized how enthralled they all were with you, how you were the sole subject of their attention, and their desires.

You looked up at Joel, your chest heaving. He smirked down at you, seemingly satisfied with your performance.

"Good girl." He stroked the top of your head before sitting down, pulling you onto his lap and squeezing your ass in one of his massive hands.

"Get the fuck out." He barked at his men.

-

In the days that followed, you ate the venison Joel had caught and kept your head down.

You tried to learn what Joel liked and what he didn't, but it was hard. He didn't speak to you all that much besides when he gave you orders or fucked you. The initial shock had started to wear off, and it was starting to become clear to you that this was it, this was your life.

Whenever that particularly terrifying thought crossed your mind, you looked for ways to distract yourself, you usually just trailed after Joel wherever he went. He mostly liked to sit in silence by the fire, outside when it was warm. He'd whittle, drink, or just sit and stare into the flames. You couldn't guess what he was thinking about.

One night you came out to join him, sitting in front of his legs on the ground.

"What are you doin' out here?" He asked after a while, his eyes still boring into the campfire.

You shrugged,

"Just...wanted to keep you company."

He looked down at you, his face cold and tinged with what looked like a profound sadness, something that went so deep you weren't sure you could ever figure it out.

"I don't like being alone." You mumbled out, looking down at the grass.

He didn't respond, just stared back up at the fire.

Your heart sank and you laid your head on the inside of his thigh, strangely finding yourself wishing for a shred of affection from him.

He didn't move, didn't acknowledge you further but didn't make you leave either. You began spending nights like this with him often, where he'd sit and stare into the fire and you'd sit between his legs on the ground, your head on his thigh, gazing up at him.

It usually ended with him hauling you up into his lap, taking you into his cabin and fucking you.

It was only after he'd brutally pounded your cunt, his cum still leaking out of you, when he’d pull you into his arms and hold you fiercely. The rush you felt in those moments was indescribable, you hadn't felt so warm, so cared for, so held in such a long time.

You saw a different side of him when you both laid tangled in his blankets. When he stroked your back, running his fingertips over you lazily. It was as though he allowed a softer side of him to show through, just for a little bit.

You began to crave these intimate moments with him, the high from your multiple orgasms still washing over you. Feeling the closest thing you could to contentment. You began to enjoy night time a lot more overall. The main reason being that you didn't have to be conscious. You liked your rituals with Joel though, how safe you felt laying with him in those moments.

The rest of the time, he was hard and distant, making you want him even more. It drove you crazy, how you felt so connected with him yet he was still a total stranger to you.

He also couldn't keep his hands off of you. Whether it was simply a hand on the back of your neck or pulling you in front of him, cupping your pussy and grinding his hard cock into your ass no matter who was around, reminding you and everyone else exactly who you belonged to.

It was strange to you, how this man could simultaneously be so cold and distant but still hold you so close at night. You wished you could talk to him, you wished you could talk to anyone. The only people who could understand were miles away.

In the days that followed, you grew to feel more and more alone. You felt like you couldn't trust anyone here.

-

When you weren't being fucked, you tried to find ways to spend your time. You mostly read, wrote in your diary, or drew. You also explored the camp as much as you could, making sure you never ventured too far, lest he and his men think you were trying to run away.

Running away had crossed your mind, but you didn't even know where you would go. You had traveled for so long after Joel had bought you, the desert landscapes you had seen out there all looked the same.

Besides, you were sure you'd run into trouble out there. You had never traveled for long distances alone, you didn't know how to hunt, you could barely build a fire.

Not to mention what people could do to you out there, a pretty woman all alone. You were better off with Joel, whether you liked it or not.

One afternoon you decided to sit outside and read. You'd grabbed your Bible, only keeping it at this point because it reminded you of your father.

You were beginning to feel slightly comforted as you read, being brought back to sitting in church, Sundays that felt like a lifetime ago, before you heard a chuckle and an unfamiliar voice.

"Never thought I'd see a whore readin' a Bible."

You looked up from where you laid on the grass to see a handsome man, younger than Joel, looking down at you with a smirk on his face.

You had no idea how to respond to him, you sat up in the grass and looked around but there was only one other man milling about in the distance.

"I-I like reading it." You forced out, your voice small.

"You a good little Christian girl?" He teased and you felt your face grow hot. You looked up at him, his brown skin gleamed in the golden sunlight and his deep brown eyes looked kinder than most of the men at this camp. Still, he made you uneasy.

"I don't know." You shrugged and looked down, yanking at the dry grass, "It just...feels nice...readin' it."

He was quiet and you looked up out of the corner of your eye. He stepped closer so that you were at eye level with his covered cock, just a few inches away.

"You believe in God?"

You were quiet.

You looked up at him where he seemed to tower over you, his head cocked to the side and his hands in his pockets.

"I-I don't know." You mumbled.

He just nodded.

"Shit you been through, I ain't surprised."

"I-" You started and took a breath, realizing how meek you sounded.

"Sometimes I think He's there watching over me but...it’s gettin’ harder to think like that." You stared straight ahead into the tree line, wondering how close Joel was.

"No shit." He breathed out, "After all, what kinda god would let a nice little girl like you end up like this?"

The words hit you like a brick and your stomach churned with nausea because you knew it was true.

This man had no doubt seen you on display multiple times at the brothel, seen you debase yourself along with all the other girls there. Now, things have gotten even worse for you.

You couldn't find it in you to respond because you knew you would agree with him, and you couldn't bear to speak the words aloud. You stared at the ground as your fingers clenched at the grass, yanking the blades out in a nervous fidget you'd picked up a few days since coming here.

He crouched down and stroked your cheek with a finger, causing you to flinch away.

"Relax baby," He breathed, "I ain't gonna hurt you."

You tensed up but let him touch your cheek again, your eyes darting around nervously as if Joel would suddenly appear, full of rage at the sight of another man touching you.

"Hmm" He chuckled, "Shame I never got to try out your pretty little cunt before Joel took you all to himself."

You gasped softly.

"I'd take good care of you." He smirked and swept your hair out of your eyes, he leaned in closer, "I wouldn't have been able to keep my mouth off of you." He breathed, "Can't stop thinking about how juicy your cunt looked when he was showin' it off to all of us."

You shuddered as he ran a thumb over your cheekbone before turning your face to look at him. You stared at him, willing your expression to neutrality, trying not to let any of your emotions show.

You stared at each other for a while, the tension between you palpable. He huffed out a light laugh.

"Who knows," He murmured, "Maybe I'll get my chance someday." He pulled your bottom lip down slightly with his thumb. You stared him down, refusing to give him anything.

"Well, we got some supper on the fire." He said, suddenly casual as he stood up and began to walk away, "Joel's aimin' to be home by sunset." Then he stalked away, his walk smooth and alluring.

You didn't know what to make of the interaction, or of the way your pussy throbbed and wetness pooled between your legs.

-

Joel made it home as the golden light began to disappear and the sky deepened to a dark blue.

Your spine stiffened as you saw his silhouette breach the horizon. You had relaxed somewhat throughout the day, with Joel gone. He'd left at dawn, the bed cold by the time you woke up, and you found a part of yourself wishing he’d been around but also relishing his absence. He could be so terrifying and unpredictable and it had been nice to get time by yourself. Still, you had felt a strange yearning for him to return, yet now that he was here...you weren’t really sure how you felt.

Adrenaline flooded your system as he came closer and closer, dismounting his horse and bringing it into a small paddock a ways away. You got the sudden urge to run to him.

Your fear and hatred along with arousal and attachment towards him made you feel sick. You opted to sit on his bed, pretending to read one of your books.

Your heart pounded as you heard him walking up to the door. It slowly swings open, the creak of the hinges sending a bolt through you. Joel trudged in, his body heavy with tiredness. He leaned against the wall, sighing as he closed the door and toed off his boots; shedding his outer layers, he laid down his rifle.

You stared at each other a moment before he slowly made his way over to one of his chairs and flopped down.

You kept your eyes trained on him over the edge of the book and his dark gaze bored into you. Every muscle in your body was tensed and ready, you knew what was coming.

Joel jerked his head in a motion for you to come over and you stood up almost too quickly. He registered it with a small smirk on his face, making your core ache.

You approached him slowly, pulling your nightgown over your head and discarding it on the floor somewhere. You let your hips sway as you walked towards him, his eyes transfixed on your bare breasts and the curls that sat between your thighs. He licked his lips and you knew he was desperate to taste you.

"C'mere" His voice was deep, almost a growl.

He pulled you into his lap, having you straddle him in his chair. You expected him to pull his cock out and sink you down on it right away but instead he sighed and leaned back, letting his eyes run over you.

Your cheeks warmed and you forced yourself to keep eye contact, trying not to shrink under his searing gaze.

"Where-um, How was your day?" You stumble over your words, unsure of the right thing to say. You found yourself wanting to talk to him about anything. The only conversation you'd had with a person today had been the mysterious man who had approached you a few hours ago.

"Was alright." He muttered absentmindedly as he ran a hand over your head, letting his fingers trail down to your chest.

"Oh..."

You couldn't bear to let the conversion die before it even began so you tried again.

"What did yall do?"

He ran the tips of his fingers over your breasts, making you shiver. He looked up again, his eyes cold.

"It ain't right for a lady to hear."

You kind of liked it when he said things like that, made you feel like a respectable woman instead of the whore that he knew you were.

You couldn't help but huff out a laugh at the thought.

"I think I can handle it," You gave him a small smile that he did not return, "I've seen all sorts of things at the brothel."

Joel's expression grew harder,

"I ain't nothin like the sad pieces of shit that go to that place." He spat and you flinched.

"I-I'm sorry." You said quickly, you tried to duck your head down but Joel grabbed your chin roughly and made you look at him.

"I was out providing for you." He sneered, "You wanna hear about all the fucked up shit I've done? You wanna hear about my fuckin' day?"

His words shocked you and you squirmed in his hold,

"I-"

"If I tell you about all the people I killed today, is it gonna make your cunt wet?" He spoke, his voice deeper, huskier and you gasped.

"Today?" You couldn't stop yourself from recoiling as you looked at him in horror. He stared right back, his face a cold hard mask.

Your blood ran cold as he circled your breast with his finger, getting closer and closer to your nipple.

"What'd I tell you?" He scoffed, "Y'don't need to be hearin' about all that."

"I just...wanted to know..." You trailed off, unsure of what you had even been trying to do by starting this conversation.

"Well I don't wanna fuckin' talk about it." Joel rolled his eyes, "Look at how scared you're already gettin'."

"I'm not scared." Your tone betrayed you completely.

Joel huffed out a laugh, you weren't fooling him.

"It's okay darlin'" He purred in your ear, "I like it when you're scared."

His voice made you shiver with arousal.

"Makes your cunt get so tight." His voice took on an edge of desperation as he sunk two fingers into you.

You let out a sharp moan as you clenched around him, squeezing his forearm.

Joel just laughed softly, huskily.

"Yeah that's right. Ride my hand like the good little whore you are."

The way he spoke to you made you feel so dirty, it felt so wrong to find any semblance of enjoyment in this. But it was the fact that it was so wrong, so twisted, that filled you with a strange feral desire.

You tried to shove your conflicting thoughts away, focusing instead on how he was making you feel, how good he thought you were for him. You moaned as you rode his hand.

Joel suddenly pulled his fingers out of you making you whine at the loss of contact. He laughed at you, how desperate you must seem, how pathetic; a sad little whore he found and took home with him.

He stuck those same fingers in your mouth, making you jerk back at the bitter taste. Joel grunted and held the back of your head in place, keeping his fingers in your mouth.

"Clean 'em off for me." He commanded.

You tentatively closed your mouth around them and sucked, a spike of arousal shooting down to your pussy. No man had ever had you do this before, made you taste yourself.

"Yeah..." He whispered as you sucked on his fingers harder, whimpering.

He pulled them out and ran his wet fingers over one of your nipples, pinching and making you cry out.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about this." His voice was still soft as he trailed his fingers down your stomach, "bout you..."

He rubbed painstakingly small circles on your clit, making you moan even louder.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about your soft little cunt, all wet and grippin' my fucking cock."

His words had you in a tailspin, the fact that he was this infatuated with you, all he could think about was your cunt. Not just any whore's cunt, yours.

You knew it was fucked up but some part of you reveled in how wanted you were by this man, how prized.

"I thought about you too." You confessed softly.

"Mmm did you?" Joel murmured and moved a lock of your hair away from your face.

"Yes" You whispered and hid your face in his neck, his large frame engulfing you as he reached around you and dragged a finger from the front of your pussy all the way up to your asshole.

You moaned and shivered, rolling your hips against him shamelessly. This wasn't like working at the brothel, where the men you serviced so often became a blur. You were lucky if the encounter was half pleasurable. Most of the time you would pretend you were enjoying it, it was all just a performance for you.

But this...this was real, raw. Joel made you feel weak, like you couldn't resist him.

"I know" He whispered in your ear as he began rubbing circles on your clit once more, "I know"

"Joel" you whined and pawed at his chest as your orgasm rose within you. In the soft light of the cabin, you let it all melt away, everything except this, this feeling.

You gasped as he moved his fingers faster, moaning into his neck as you came, your release coating his fingers and dripping down into his lap. You looked down in shock, then looked back up at him.

You just stared at him, you weren't sure what to say. That had never happened to you before. After a while Joel smirked and moved his fingers back up to your lips. You opened your mouth immediately and sucked on his fingers again, it made your sensitive cunt throb with arousal and you whimpered around him.

"Mmm fuck" Joel murmured, "You made a mess baby."

You froze with his fingers in your mouth. Was he mad? You hadn't meant to.

Joel seemed to sense the shift and withdrew his hand.

"I'm sorry..." You swallowed, your face burning.

Joel, to your surprise, laughed.

"You poor thing, they didn't take very good care of your little cunt down at that whorehouse did they?"

"No man there ever did what you do to me."

"And what's that?" He asked, his tone laced with arrogance and a hint of playfulness, it spurred you on.

"No man down there looked at me the way you do." You said softly, and you knew that it was true, from the moment you had locked eyes.

You ran a hand down his shirt, unbuttoning as you went. Your conflicting feelings about him earlier were far away in the back of your mind. Because he was right, none of the men back at the brothel had ever been capable enough to take care of you, not like him.

"No man there touched me the way you do." You continue, kissing up his jaw making him moan.

"No man there has ever made me orgasm like that." You let out a squeal right after as he spanks your ass.

"I know" He growled, his forehead pressed into yours, "I could see it in your eyes. Knew you needed a real fuckin' man."

You whimpered and nodded,

"Joel please..." Your hands clawed at his belt as his hands enveloped your breasts, you arched your back as he massaged them.

"You fucking want it don't you?" He panted, and you nodded feverishly, "You little fuckin' whore."

You moaned at his words and he spanked you again,

"Thought I told you to answer me when I talk to you."

"Fuck I want it." You moaned, "Please Joel, please I want your cock."

"Go 'head and take it then."

Your stomach fluttered and you reached for his belt buckle before you could talk yourself out of it. Because all you wanted in this moment was him inside of you.

You deftly pulled out his cock and sat up, letting him align himself with your cunt before he grabbed your hips and pulled you down. You cried out at the stretch, at how fucking good it felt to be full of him.

"Oh fuck" Joel sighed and leaned his head back in his chair, closing his eyes as he let out a slow deep breath. You felt his whole body relax, tension he'd been carrying with him throughout the whole day finally leaving him with every squeeze of your cunt.

You just sat there for a moment, watching his chest rise up and down and his eyes flutter. He slowly brought his head back up to face you. Sighing again as he began running his hands over your body, playing with you languidly.

This was something you had begun to learn about Joel; when he could, he liked to take his time with you. It was almost tantalizing.

He ran his fingertips ever so lightly up your sides, making you shiver and clench his cock. He groaned and gripped your side as he leaned in and kissed you bruisingly, licking into your mouth and claiming you all over again. You moaned against him as he held the back of your head.

You let him take you, consume you, carve a space for himself deep inside of you. This was nothing like anything you'd had back at the brothel.

Joel broke the kiss and leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as he held your breast in place. The sensation sent an electric current through you and you gasped, your hips beginning to grind on him of their own volition. He moaned against you and wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you even closer. His tongue swirled around your nipple as he sucked and bit you, driving you over the edge.

You began grinding your hips on him faster, chasing your high with a deft precision that came with being a whore. Joel pulled his mouth off of you, gasping and moaning. His eyes wide and face contorted in pleasure.

You rarely saw him like this, saw his carefully placed mask slip and got a peek at the feral, crazed man underneath.

Your cunt spasmed around his cock as your pleasure built within you. You chased it desperately, the day had been so dull and empty; suddenly you needed this.

“Mmmm Joel” you whine, your voice getting more and more high pitched as you grabbed at his hair and leaned forward, using your hold on him to drive his cock deeper into you.

“Fuck wait-“ Joel’s gruff voice in your ear was cut off as he moaned depravedly. He struggled to keep quiet, his hold on your hips tightening.

He was coming undone, unraveling at the intense and feverish pace of your hips, snapping forward over and over again, riding him like you would a horse.

He rolled his hips up to meet yours desperately, his eyes locked on the way your tits bounced as you rode him.

Your moans got more and more high pitched as you neared closer and you dug your fingernails into his shoulders as you chased your high.

Joel tried to move you off of him but you were so close. Without thinking you pushed him back in his seat with all your strength and ground on his cock, letting it move and massage that special place inside of you.

Your pussy spasmed around him as you soaked him, shuddering and moaning. The pleasure felt unreal and you moaned and panted, letting your head fall onto his chest as your hips slowed; feeling like you’d been sent to another world.

Suddenly you felt Joel’s hands on you, pulling you off of him in a vice grip and throwing you down onto the bed.

“Who the fuck told you that you were in charge?” He seethed, his face flushed, hair wild and cock rock hard, glistening with your cum where it jutted out of his jeans.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes fall down to it.

Joel scoffed and got down on the bed. He got between your legs and pulled you by your knees so that his hardness bumped your cunt.

“I’m sorry,” you moaned as his tip brushed against your clit, “you just felt so good.” It was a weak apology and Joel knew it.

He shoved his cock into you, hard. He set a brutal pace immediately, snapping his hips against you over and over. You cried out at how sensitive you were.

“You wanna use me to get your little cunt all satisfied?”

“No…” you managed to gasp out as you clutched onto the bedding for dear life.

“That ain’t how it’s gon’ work around here sweetheart.” He spat, “You don’t get to fucking disobey me.” His voice rose as he fucked you even harder than before. His cock was hitting so deep inside you it began to hurt.

“I won't, I wont I promise!” You cried out.

Joel growled as he wrapped a huge hand around your throat,

“Just gotta put you in your place don’t I?” He rasped and drove his cock inside of you.

His hold on your throat caused your head to spin and your pussy to throb. Thankfully the pain you had felt earlier was beginning to turn into pleasure and you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

You were too sensitive though, every stroke of his cock was too much. You whined as you hurtled towards the edge, not even feeling like you were ready to fall off of it.

Your release hit you like a train and you screamed and shuddered as you clung to him, crying out his name over and over again as if it were a prayer.

You panted as you came down but Joel didn’t let up the pace. You sucked in a breath and tried to move off of him but he held you in place.

“I ain’t done yet sweetheart.”

“Joel please I-I can’t…”

“Can’t imagine a whores cunt could ever get tired.” He smirked and you knew he was punishing you for how you’d used his cock earlier.

“None of them were like you.” You choked out, “None of them had your cock.”

Joel moaned and seemed to lose himself in the rhythm. You continued to tell him what you knew he wanted to hear.

“I-I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist you…your cock Joel…it-“ you whined as he hit deep inside.

“What?” He panted, his eyes crazed and his hips rhythm getting uneven, he was close.

“It’s perfect.” You breathe and realize that you’re not lying, at all.

Joel lets out a string of moans as he comes deep inside of you. You sigh as the warmth fills you, soothing your abused pussy.

Your cunt flutters around him as he lies on top of you, catching his breath for a moment before he gets up, pulling out of you.

He clears his throat as he steps away and you reach out for him, only to have him ignore you.

“Joel?” You ask tentatively as he sits back down in the chair.

“Spread your legs.” He commands.

Your stomach flares with arousal and you feel your puffy and used cunt throb all over again.

You slowly spread your legs for him, showing him what he’s done to you. The cold air felt somewhat soothing on your swollen cunt and you moaned softly as you clenched around nothing.

You feel his cum leaking out of your hole slowly. Joel watches it, his eyes transfixed on your cunt.

“Good girl.” He murmurs

-

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the mess between your thighs. The way your pussy would sometimes clench and spasm, forcing more of his spend out. He wondered if you even knew you were doing that.

He began loading up his pipe with tobacco when you shifted.

“Keep ‘em open.” He grumbled and settled back, sparking up. He breathed deep, letting the smoke fill his lungs.

“Sorry.” You propped a pillow between your back and the wall, making sure to keep your legs spread for him.

“Yeah…” he breathed, “should be used to it, keepin’ your legs spread all the time.”

He watched as your eyes widened and how you sucked in a breath. Your cunt spasmed and he smirked. It was a great idea to have you spread open like this for him; he could see exactly how his words affected you, because he knew they did.

“Men at the brothel never wanted to just look at me like this.” You cut through the silence, your voice soft and breathy in a way that made him want to fuck you all over again. 

Joel’s eyes flitted up from your cunt up to your face.

Your expression was a mix of apprehension and wild desire. 

“None of them ever really looked at me.”

He smiled, you were coming along so well.

“I like seein’ what’s mine. Seein’ you like this...” He took another puff, “Can’t hide nothin’ from me when you’re like this sweetheart.”

Your eyes darted around and you tensed, your cunt clenching around nothing.

You still didn’t close your legs. Joel couldn’t help but laugh softly, you were coming along very well indeed.

@pedge-page just remembered that u asked to be tagged in pt 2 lol thanks for the support❤️

[picnokinesis]

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in media res by wreckageofstars (3k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “Well,” she said. “Now you know what the mattress is for.” Dan shifted. “And the trampoline?” “Best not ask about the trampoline.” //I think this is probably the first Dan pov fic I ever read, and it’s absolutely brilliant. This author gets the character voices down so perfectly it’s unreal, and the whole thing is just so wonderful to see from Dan’s outsider perspective. It’s set in the immediate aftermath of Once, Upon Time, and it does a fantastic job of exploring the impact of what happened in that episode – both from a whump perspective and an emotional one. Angsty, but also funny in the worst kind of way – someone please go give Yaz a break, she REALLY needs one. Anyway, it’s great, everyone go read it right now.

Hearts of Stone by weirdpug (previously xhonia) (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: The Doctor loses herself. The Master finds her. //Ohhh this one this one, it’s SO awesome – it’s one of those fics that does really cool things with the formatting? Which works great here, because it’s a weeping angel!13 fic and wow, wow! Extremely awesome indeed, and just beautifully written – the prose is just so full of character, even when the Doctor is losing herself and it’s so well done.

Divination by WalkerLister (6k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “There was a name for someone similar to me once. They called them the Valeyard. You can call me that, if you like. I quite like it, it’s suitably eerie. Little bit of drama never hurt anyone.” //Right, so we all remember what happened when War of the Sontarans aired…we got that ‘next time’ trailer of Once Upon Time…and all collectively lost our minds over the inverted dark coat. Since then, I feel like everyone has been finding really creative ways to get it into fanfics, and this is a wonderful example. And, well, if the promise of dark coat!13 wasn’t enough, this fic is just an absolutely fascinating look at the concept of the Valeyard in the context of the fobwatch from Flux, but focused on Yaz and her relationship with/perception of the Doctor. It’s such a good concept and so so wonderfully done! (also, if you’re a fan of thasmin, this author has a ton of stuff, so definitely go check it all out! For the less thasmin-inclined folks, I highly recommend Ipesity, which is one of my favourite post-TTC fics)

three points where two lines meet by Ymae (4k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: The Doctor tries to get those memories back, and breaks herself, bit by bit. //Oh man. This fic. I still remember when this one first posted and hoooooo boy, it is a hell of a gut-punch and absolutely wrenched my heart right out of my chest but HHHHHHHHH wow!! WOW. Genuinely, I think this fic rewrote my brain a little bit. It's set in the immediate aftermath of Once, Upon Time where the Doctor makes some very unwise decisions about trying to tug at her timeline and it's absolutely incredible. Very angsty, very whumpy, and full of a HUGE amount of the Doctor messing with timelines and very visceral, tangible descriptions of her timesense. It is such a treat, guys. And if you like this one and want something with similar vibes, I also highly recommend this post-flux fic by the same author!

Sheer Poetry! by Papapaldi (57k, 5 chapters, gen) summary: Trapped within her own mind, the Doctor travels through an impossible house, with everyone she has ever been locked inside. Her body is an unresponsive, useless bag of flesh somewhere far and away in reality. The part of her brain that she knows, where her past resides, sits somewhere else entirely within the old machine. The Ravagers eat, buried memories beckon, and the Doctor's faith is shaken to its core. She will never be the same – but that's what she's all about, right? Incredible change. //oh my days. THIS FIC, guys - look, I see the word count, I know, I know. This fic is a serious undertaking, but like so many things in life it is soooooo so worth it. Bucket loads of absolutely ASTOUNDING imagery, more references to Lungbarrow and Timewyrm Revelation than you can shake a stick at, BUT you don't need to have read those stories at all to enjoy this absolutely fantastic saga (put it like this - I've not read those books, and I had a whale of a time). Incredibly poetic, a little nonsensical in the best kind of way (it IS a mindscape fic) but startlingly funny and so beautifully in character. I laughed, I cried. This fic is just a love letter to everything Doctor Who, weaving all of canon into this beautiful, cohesive tapestry. I highly recommend. (and, if you're hungry for more and want tpotd content, there's an excellent sequel as well)

every step i choose to take (begins to set the world aflame) by SleepyMaddy (12k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: In a spaceport lost in a remote quadrant of interstellar space, a Doctor who doesn’t know herself anymore runs into a Master who doesn’t know himself yet // Ok so the sheer concept of this one ALONE is absolutely brilliant – the Doctor, escaping from the Division and half out of her head, bumps into the Master, who’s not long regenerated from Missy. And, guys. It’s fascinating. Seeing the Master right at the start, before he finds out everything that comes to define him in this era, and then having him meet a version of the Doctor who is quite a lot further along than him and just completely out of it? It’s like catnip to me, guys. And, of course, it’s all helped by the fact that the writing is absolutely brilliant – the characters are just absolutely spot on, which is quite an incredible feat seeing as they are both in very different places to where we see them in the show, yet they still manage to ring true throughout the whole thing. And also the mindscape imagery? The psychic whump? The emotional gut-punch that is the entire fic? Absolutely unparalleled. (also, if you’re a spydoc fan? Just help yourself out and read this author’s entire set of works, because it’s all fantastic)

see me bare my teeth for you by picnokinesis (16k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “Do you know your mission?” //This is a bit of a cheeky self-rec, but, in my defence, if you're looking for flux fics, then I think you'll enjoy this one. I wrote it in the week after Village of the Angels aired, and it's basically all my thoughts and theories about what was going to happen in Survivors of the Flux thrown into a 16k oneshot. I was...mostly wrong HAHA but I’m still really proud of it. If you like division!doctor, then this one is for you

we're only dreaming (tell me who i am) by SpaceBetweenGalaxies (2k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: more the-memory-house-is-Lungbarrow clowning //ok, so if you were like me when flux was airing and absolutely lost your MIND over the illogical house which was a bit too on the nose regarding Lungbarrow related things, then THIS FIC IS FOR YOU. Absolutely brilliantly done, with some gorgeous imagery that I'm still thinking about to this day, and just a wonderfully unsettling exploration of the Doctor and how she picks at those cut off memories in the aftermath of the Flux

the stars are bound to change by emptypockets (9k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: Being trisected across the universe has unexpected consequences for the Doctor, and Yaz is tasked with the responsibility of keeping her awake. //ohhhhhh this fic is so wonderful!! It's that weird sweet spot of 'soft angst', where it hits where it hurts but at the same time the whole thing feels like it's wrapping you in a warm blanket. Augh!! Such a lovely portrayal of the Doctor and Yaz's dynamic - I adore how this author writes these two so much. An absolutely lovely (but angsty!) character exploration, with a healthy dose of whump and sleepiness on the side. What more could you want?

Everything by rowanthestrange (24k, 13 chapters, thasmin) summary: In which Yaz wants to know everything, and the Doctor finally wants that too. //Ok, so full disclosure, I don't read that much thasmin, but this fic, guys. It's just gorgeous. A beautifully written exploration of Yaz and her relationship with the Doctor in the aftermath of Flux, which explores the years Yaz spent in the past and how that changed her; the Doctor grappling with her identity issues and how that's changed her; as well as all sorts of other wonderful things besides. Another fic that had tears streaming down my face (the TARDIS chapter got me...). It's such a poignant, emotional fic, and it's very focused on character in a way that I really adore. If you like thasmin, this is an absolute must-read. If you're not a fan of thasmin, I recommend it anyway (- signed: a thoschei shipper) because it's just such a brilliant portrayal of these two.

[loredrinker]

Dragon Age games as show genres

Dragon Age: Origins — The Classic Fantasy  

It’s the classic fantasy set in a bleak, war-torn world where everything is falling apart. The Blight is ravaging Southern Thedas, Darkspawn are everywhere, and the legendary Grey Wardens are supposed to save the day - until they’re wiped out in the opening act. Cue the fellowship! 

It’s a tale of sweeping battles and high-stakes choices, but beneath the epic surface lie some of the most fantastical, wild decisions that fit right into any fantasy setting. Sire an old god baby? Check. Exorcise a demon from an eight-year-old? Check. Crown a bastard prince - or execute him? Totally up to you. And forget dire wolves - you’ve got Dog. 

The stakes are massive, the battles harrowing, but there’s always time for sarcastic banter, passive-aggressive spats, and seduction. It’s a story of heroism, heartbreak, and just enough absurdity to keep the end of the world from feeling too grim. 

Dragon Age II — The Satirical Family Drama 

Welcome to Kirkwall, where everything’s on fire, and everyone’s yelling. Power struggles aren’t just a backdrop - they’re the whole show. Mages, Templars, and the unlucky souls clash in a city teetering on the edge of collapse.  

Your companions? They’re not just along for the dumpster fire - they’re the ones holding the matches. Fenris has enough anger to power the city’s infrastructure, Merrill’s quietly trying to rebuild an ancient mirror that screams “bad idea,” Isabella has definitely stolen something, Hawke is one zombie mom away from a complete meltdown, and Varric’s narrating every juicy detail like it’s his next bestseller. Oh, and let’s not forget Anders - because when has an explosion ever not started a productive conversation? 

Kirkwall isn’t just a city - it’s the dysfunctional dining room table where all the family drama unfolds. 

Dragon Age: Inquisition — The Soap Opera 

On the surface, Inquisition is about world-ending rifts, court intrigue, and saving Thedas from complete annihilation - but beneath the sweeping battles and political machinations, it’s all drama and emotional chaos.  

Welcome to the Inquisition, where secrets lurk around every corner and betrayal is a team sport. Blackwall hides his secrets behind his impressive beard while Solas conceals his with cryptic wisdom and a jawline sharp enough to cut through the Fade. Iron Bull is one questionable decision away from flipping allegiances and Leliana’s perched atop a mountain of secrets, ready to ruin lives with a single song. Meanwhile, the Herald’s handing out judgments like a morally conflicted deity, while desperately trying to keep the team’s approval from imploding.  

The game has everything: battles, intrigue, romance, and plenty of those brooding moments where someone stares dramatically into the distance. 

Tune in next time to Thedas of Our Lives. 

Dragon Age: Veilguard — The Comedy Sitcom 

It’s your new favorite comedy where the stakes are apocalyptic, but the vibes are immaculate. 

Meet Rook and the ragtag team of wildly attractive misfits, saving the world one awkward situation at a time while crashing at their boss’s magic lighthouse. Sure, they’re trying to stop the literal unraveling of existence, but let’s get to the real fun: Can the brooding Grey Warden save the griffons without losing his smolder? Will the dapper necromancer teach his spirit son the difference between shoes and sarcasm? And can the charming assassin and his demon roommate finally admit they’re the ultimate odd couple? 

This team is uncomfortably comfortable with existential horror, turning their “stop Solas” mission into Thedas’s most chaotic group therapy session. And when it’s time to relax? There’s always book club - next up: How to Survive Team Dynamics When Your Boss is the Literal Dread Wolf. 

It’s your perfect blend of heartwarming and absurd situations, with dialogue that loops so much it’s practically a built-in drinking game.  

Sure, the stakes are technically world-ending - Veil, ancient gods, blight, yadda yadda - but, seriously, guys who’s gonna clean up the griffon poop? Cue the laugh track! 

[borgevino]

* kitty collector, a relic from the mid-2010s, still incredibly cute

[zahri-melitor]

I read two more issues, to get past the Robins fight, and...still so conflicted.

I can see exactly how, if Damian is your ultimate blorbo and you read for Damian, this story is doing exactly what you want it to do and reflecting back beloved stories.

Issue 5 is explicitly set up as a parallel to War of the Robins from Batman and Robin 2011, and even ends with Damian getting an 'I love you and here have a trophy' speech from Dick, to tie Damian back to Alfred and Dick and the layers of care in the family.

It acknowledges Damian's menagerie and comments that the last thing Damian did before leaving was check in on them. It has Goliath show up and save Damian's life.

It has intense Robin: Son of Batman vibes and the whole repeat of the 'finding yourself on an isolated tropical island and redeeming yourself'.

(I expect the whole Respawn thing to play out with very much the exact themes of how R:SOB dealt with Damian's clones once Damian clues in)

But I keep waiting for payoffs that just aren't happening.

Rose slopes off to call for help for Damian, and then Dick, Jason, Tim and Steph turn up and I'm like "oh! Rose went and called Dick, because she's looking out for Damian on the island in the same way that Dick looked out for Rose while he was training her as Ravager and in a bad place where she was hanging on every one of Slade's words and determined she needed to prove herself as worthy of her father...oh. She called Jason".

And look, I know that there's an underlying push for decades now that Jason and Rose do have a bunch of things in common and would work well together (and also hinting at whether or not they're romantically involved), but a lot of that is inferred off panel stuff while Dick was literally Rose's teacher. If you want themes of 'you don't have to be what your family expect of you' why on earth wouldn't you openly reference that?!?

In terms of who is on this island and is one of Dick's rogue's gallery:

Raptor

Double Dare (both Margot and Aliki)

Lady Vic

Brutale

Nite-Wing (seriously why is Tad here)

Blue Shrike is apparently Shrike's brother???

Is this going to get acknowledged? That a solid chunk of Dick's enemies are here and fighting Damian? That's like half the competition!

Also while I was looking all of this up apparently the Richard Dragon they're talking about is the son of actual Richard Dragon, who apparently got killed in a flashback or something in Green Arrow #32 during n52 and who apparently in that universe worked for the League of Assassins (oh god I am now tearing my hair out, RICHARD IS NOT LINKED TO THE LEAGUE. HE WAS TRAINED BY THE O-SENSEI. STOP DOING THIS TO ALL THE MARTIAL ARTISTS). Huh. Bet that doesn't stick. Richard's too important thematically any time someone wants to write a Question book to be left randomly dead.

And then there's the whole situation that there is a Tengu on this island. I just went down the rabbit hole and this is an import of the Titans villain who is just a Japanese goblin, NOT the Tengu mask that Shiva hands out to people who are trained by her and fighting somewhat under her banner (as seen in Knightsend and in the Circle of Six in Richard Dragon). Which is honestly a waste; if I were going to resurrect a Tengu for this plot, the Shiva and Richard Dragon aligned mask is far more thematic!

And plus, Silver Monkey? Silver Monkey is heavily linked to both Connor's Green Arrow stories, and Shiva (as Paper Monkey), and Deathstroke. It's War of the Dragons and Cult of the Monkey Fist and Brotherhood of the Fist. It's about death and resurrection (as Shiva almost kills Connor and Tim uses his marker with Shiva to save Connor’s life from the time he saved HER life). Is this going to be acknowledged? Because that's where I'd be playing the references by bringing in Silver Monkey.

And look I haven't seen what payoffs we get for Connor yet and there are definitely a bunch of opportunities built in; on top of Silver Monkey you have Constantine Drakon, who's defeated Connor before. Plus there's Artemis Crock, who in DC Comics comics terms isn't linked at all to Connor (she's JSA and Infinity Inc and was in the YJ98 Zandian Olympics team) but obviously has been used for archer purposes in tv and cartoon adaptions.

I keep seeing all these potential stories set up and wondering if there is going to be any pay off on them. I hope so. But also so far the story has slipped around those payoffs unless it's a direct reference to a Damian story.

Also Ra's al Ghul playing the hermit sensei meditating and in touch with the universe on a nearby island is the funniest nonsense possible. Ra's? RA'S? Taking time out to go meditate on the state of the universe? Just so he's conveniently in a place to give Sage Advice to Damian about what personal values he should work on? Pull the other one.

[raccoonfallsharder]

recommended works ⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

these are the folks who have written or drawn something (specifically within the rocket raccoon fan community) that either murdered me, resurrected me, or both.

(i am always open to recs so if you wanna link me to your fave i will be so happy to check them out)

⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ fanfiction ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

The All of You (ao3) i fuckin love this story so hard. i love the OC. i love the writing. i love the set up. i reread this probably every month or so and pine for more. it's so fuckin good. @lazarel-3000 is a double-threat (at least) who is also on my recced artist list, which means (obviously) they are a recced creator as well.

Casino Royale (ao3) this fic by @hibatasblog (see also: Entanglement, below) is so fucking delightful. petra quill is so hot i want to date her myself, and the tension between her and rocket is through the roof. loving the angst, loving the little ways that heartbreak seeps through every new paragraph, loving the mystery of trying to figure out what happened to petra and rocket to set them on their separate paths and now bring them back together. always waiting anxiously for the next chapter.

Entanglement (ao3) this fic by @hibataao3 has me rationing my consumption in a way i have not done in a long time. i'm like "i only read one chapter a week to pace myself, as a little treat for surviving another seven days." beautiful writing and intricate storytelling, the metaphors and analogies are so good i almost wish i was back in undergrad writing a thesis on it.

Experiment: The Ravager Code (ao3) ☕︎ Experiment: The Ravager Code (tumblr) [NEW ADDITION 2024] check out author @guardian-angel12 for character art and more ♡ girl gets scooped, experimented on by the high evolutionary, saved by ravagers, and finds her family. what more could you ask for? featuring a fantastic, fascinating OC and i am in love (i do need to catch up, though). the writing is beautiful, the emotional elements are so moving, ugh i love it.

Friends (tumblr) @nyxivy is making their way through the rocketober 2023 prompts and the first fic of the series is. so drool-worthy. i've probably read it fifty times since it came out. short and so hot i could die (much like rocket himself), and somehow incredibly sweet in just the span of a few paragraphs? i will continue coming back to this fic and look forward to more from them at every chance i get.

Get Up (tumblr)@caesarhamato22 is another person on my recced creator list because trying to find just one fic to call my "favorite" is a challenge (obviously i was unsuccessful because there are two on this list). anyway this is lovely and fluffy. i die.

Heatwaves (tumblr) [NEW ADDITION 2024] oh my lord. this was written a while ago i never officially added it to the list and i should've. @mytheoristavenue writes a very sultry, steamy oneshot about you helping rocket fix the ship's climate control. i melt into my chair everytime i reread this one (which is often). so much of this lives rent-free in my head but THIS changed the course of my fantasies: Finally, he placed a paw against your cheek and whispered in close: "You're burnin' up, baby."

last (friday) night (ao3) nsfw. trying to pick a "favorite" of @aliasrocket's work is like trying to choose a favorite incarnation of rocket (i cannot). guess who is also on my recced creators list.

more than seven (tumblr)second @caesarhamato22 fic on this list and another recced creator. this one is one of my favorite comfort fics (i mean it's still sexy as hell) that i come back to very often. like it's just so wonderful and sweet and perfect and atmospheric and vibes

Professor R Raccoon or How Rocket Got His Groove Back (ao3) [NEW ADDITION 2024] nsfw. the third @hibatasblog fic on this list. this author doesn't miss. ever imagine rocket raccoon wearing his dad-glasses in a perfect slice-of-life au smut fic? by which i mean wouldn’t it be nice if someone could just fuck rocket’s brains out till his glasses fall off and he doesn’t even have to worry about blowing up living planets or killing mad titans? enter petra quill once again. this is hot, highly-communicative smut complete with both consent & shredded silk stockings, and rocket just feeling good.

Rocket Secretly Likes Being Petted (tumblr) [NEW ADDITION 2024] @whitedragoncoranth writes LOTS of fluffy lil rocket one-shots and series, but this one is my ultimate fave. rocket hacks his own software to allow himself permission to be a soft lil guy that likes being petted.

stars. (tumblr) ☕︎ stars. (ao3) sexual tension & some of the loveliest atmospheric writing i've ever consumed. another @aliasrocket fic that lives in my head.

untitled drabble/oneshot. [NEW ADDITION 2024] @hyperjorts probably never meant for their random drabble (which they mistakenly tagged as a shitpost) to live rent-free in my head for months on end but here we are. you can skip (or not skip) the original ask they were reblogging and just focus on this wonderful little bit of fiction that SCREAMS "universe-killer rocket" to me. (and then has me sweating & panting at the end)

A Very Basic Instinct (tumblr) ☕︎ A Very Basic Instinct (ao3) nsfw. when i tell you this fic did things to me. it is probably one of the fics i reread most. like, all the time jkjk only semiregularly. check out the author @elegant-fleuret for other equally brainrot-inducing smut (also mentioned in my recced creators).

⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ art ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

@angyc0rtoons the way they draw rocket is just. the most perfect embodiment of chaos. i WISH i could draw such animated expressions so fluidly and perfectly. and their color-choices make me want to cry in the best way. it's like i actually believe in the future again. make my brain go brrrr. (this one makes all my dopamine receptors light up) (also i will go to the grave grateful and sobbing over the time they illustrated my dumb hashtags) [NEW ADDITION 2024]

@bathmob i wish. i could draw rocket. like this. the vibes are so good. the style. is perfect. i thank the universe whenever i see new art from them.

@glow-autumz is absolutely going to be a published comic artist some day and i will buy anything she works on ever. literally everything she creates has a story behind it, which i love. like, not only are her illustrations gorgeous (and like…often very hot) but every single one is (at least) a single-panel narrative. plus her OC is also cool as hell and i love her interpretations of rocket.

@happylittleshrub is a genius of the highest order. love watching all the different ways they render rocket, and i would sacrifice my LIFE for their baby rocket (raised by groot). protect them and their little rockets at all costs [NEW ADDITION 2024]

@lazarel-3000 creates the most toe-curlingly delicious art i've seen in a long time. i am seduced by pretty much everything they create. even their rough drafts have me panting. (i also have a crush on their OC and as a bi-lady i look at their art and am often like oh shit this is a fuckin feast). as mentioned before, this artist is also the author of one of my favorite fics and is a recommended creator in general.

@projectanimation7 is an amazing artist in general but i am specifically posting to share this little snuggled-up rocket and groot. glorious, magical, cuddly. 10/10. [NEW ADDITION 2024]

@rogertaylorswift i honestly don't know how this artist was not already on my rec list??? a staple and a god in the rocket fancommunity tbh. i can't pick one piece of theirs that i love more than the others. their album covers are beautiful, their meme redraws are hysterical, their one-frame comics are deeply-moving and lovely, and their longer comic arcs never fail to make me weep. [NEW ADDITION 2024]

@uglly-rodent posts always make me want to pinch the babby raccoom's cheeks and/or cry.

⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ creators ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

@aliasrocket writes such beautiful things it is impossible to pick a favorite (i got two of their fics in the fic section and it was difficult to narrow it down that far and even now, i'm not certain). their tumblr has the added advantage of a ton of drabbles, every single one of which is perfection.

@caesarhamato22 read everything. like everything. great smut but i am a sucker for the slice of life shit and it's so fuckin good here. i just wanna be a nail tech on knowhere/locked in a closet with rocket/have him steal my t-shirt/whatever. it's like all my most domestic desires got turned into little fanfiction dreams. so much wish fulfillment i could die

@elegant-fleuret has great fanfiction (more than just the one on my fic list - i just felt like i had to narrow it down and A Very Basic Instinct literally gives me a a fresh hit of dopamine every time i reread it, which is a lot). plus also art. double-threat.

@lazarel-3000 look. look. i cannot say this enough. please go check them out they are hope in a hopeless place. some of the sexiest art + one of my very favorite fanfictions + one of my very favorite OCs have come out of this flawless individual. (full disclosure they also did some nsfw art of my OC jolie and rocket that has me crying and dying and hyperventilating on a daily basis)

@love-for-faeries-go-burrrr has another one of my favorite OCs and i am always hungry for their little storylines whenever they post.

@mrwolfhare is one of my favorite sources of gotg food-for-thought. just some of the most thoughtful explorations of the details of both the mcu and comic canon, excellent headcanons, beautiful screenshot sets, and really solid art. the drawtober art and ficlets have been highlights in my days this month and i'm told there may be a rad fanfiction on the horizon so keep your eyes on this! (rad fanfiction is here now! read Subject 880HR on ao3)

@raccoon-coded just. A+ gotg content, both original and reblogs. most recently i find myself coming back again and again to their review of various gotg novels (and adding a few to my tbr pile). [NEW ADDITION 2024]

[utilitycaster]

I HAVE VEILGUARDED. everything below the cut for spoiler reasons. I will also say to the anon I shut down earlier (again, me not you!) that I do intend to do a second run because I had a marvelous time, I would really love to do the Dock Town quests and explore Neve's other options (and romance her, frankly) and check out some of the other companion options (honestly I'd be open to almost all of them except for Lichdom. sorry I refuse to leave Manfred dead and I'm correct.) and maybe this time I'll actually solve the stupid wisp puzzles and get all the chests and uhhhhh maybe even play on Easy mode instead of Easier Than Easy mode (because lbr my equipment does not matter a ton because. story mode.)

because I am a good girl and did all the quests everyone lived. I also accidentally got the best ending, because Rook in this run is a romantic and optimistic person. This is funny to me because I am god's greatest hater and so I am ROLEPLAYING a character who is like yeah inquisitor go be with your boyfriend who looks like a stupid egg. I did have the Diet Essence Of Mythal but I've been informed the secret even better ending only hits if you know other past characters, which I don't, so whomst cares!

Takes on characters from previous games in brief. Obviously Harding is great. Solas gets his happy ending and that is FINE I guess. Generic Default Inquisitor Lavellan is like. again Rook is like "do what makes you happy but I am like DUMP HIM. which means that while Morrigan is very "I say things in a portentous voice that are extremely obvious" to me, her deep and abiding hater tendencies towards Solas do it for me. Obviously Varric is great as well. Dorian and Mae? Great (unsure if Mae is in previous games but anyway, love her). Not sure who else is a returning character but I think that covers the bulk of it.

This is very out of order but: because no one died other than of course Davrin in the Isle of the Gods, the pay respect for the dead scene is unintentionally really fucking funny to me, a person who has had to go into morgues for professional reasons. Literally like I walk into a morgue where I know zero people. I walk out. I pass Teia and Viago flirting aggressively as an archdemon ravages Minrathous. I continue.

The final conversations are really good; blighted Neve is of course horrifying but she gets better and her nailpolish, crucially, is not chipped. This is HILARIOUS to me. The final romance line with Bellara is lovely. The ending conversations are all really good but Taash's and Emmrich's were my favorite outside of Bellara's. My girlfriend and I are going to hang out with griffons and she's going to write so much fanfiction about us and it will be unhinged.

Hilarious and sexy of me to wear the appearance of the shadow dragons armor I got literally in like. Shadows of Minrathous or something. the entire fucking time. You can see it in the screenshots and I assure you it's only for the vibes (deep V neck and sick chest tats), I am actually in +8 Warden Champion full plate armor and wearing some wild-ass helm (I did not at any point hide the appearance of my shield. even when I was using the gaudiest gold one that looks like a shell from the lords of fortune. I eventually got a very sick-ass Mourn Watch shield). But it does feel really funny to like, pick Treviso, send Neve to the shadow realm, and wear this armor the full time. I literally didn't see Tarquin for like 2.5 acts.

Elger'nan's first form is weak to necrotic damage. I took Taash and Lucanis. I am fully statted out as a reaper. I have an AOE that does over a thousand necrotic damage. genuinely it was a comedy, I triggered the cut scene where Neve goes to the throne and wrests control so Solas can kill the archdemon almost immediately. Second battle was harder but also level 50 story mode so it was FINE.

I do think a Trick Solas ending would be fun; fighting him seems like it would just kind of suck but like. It's funny I actually really did feel grateful after Blood of Arlathan and then after he stuck me in the mind prison I was like FUCK THIS GUY FOR REAL even after he helped us through in the endgame and killed the archdemon.

Lords of Fortune continue to be hilarious to me. There's a codex that's very BY OUR POWERS COMBINED right before the final assault on Minrathous that I described thusly:

Then in the final scene before the narration the Lords are pulling people out of the wreckage. Imagine you're in a world-ending fight during an eclipse with wild-ass mood lighting and you are trapped under rubble as a horrifying blight tentacle monster rages above and then it all stops and THEN someone in a gold bikini helps you up.

In all seriousness the fact that the Mourn Watch and Lords of Fortune don't come up in the final narration does have me like. yeah whoever wrote their faction quests should have worked harder. I know the mourn watch is largely unscathed because there's no point blighting the undead but like, idk, I feel there could have been more venatori work there that tied into Zara's whole deal, and the Antaam or Wardens ties to Rivain could have been more thoroughly explored. Taash and Emmrich's companion questlines are fantastic but even playing Mourn Watch and loving the build and the vibe, I was like hmmmm this is underserved.

Second hater moment: loved the song over the credits but it felt jarring as hell to have a modern sound here. stick to the hans zimmer. this reminds me, I should listen to the soundtrack because as my Midst Mutuals can attest I am literally the worst at noticing themes. I know Harding's and Emmrich's because I really like them and like, I vaguely recall Lucanis's because it's got accordion elements but otherwise I'm like uhhhhh if it's not the main theme or the Solas theme I'm confused.

I also realized that hilariously, if you like Neve or Lucanis but are ok with romancing someone else (and I very much am) it's actually kind of great to fuck over their city because then you feel justified in taking them out on every single mission to try to up your bond level.

Finished with Lucanis, Harding, and Bellara fully level 10 and everyone else level 9 (including Davrin, RIP); I do wonder how you can get everyone to 10. I might have assigned some quests badly but also like, 9 ain't bad.

anyway feel free to ask questions; this was great and I'm so happy I did it.

[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU // prev, chapter 2, next

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Original Female Character, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent Pairing: eventual Stiles x OFC, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 4.6k Warnings: canon typical gore/violence, parental death, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author majored in english lit and is a choatic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: Four years ago, Drea Dickinson's entire life fell apart. Her mom died, her best friend replaced her, and all she could do was watch listlessly while everything else burned down around her. All she wants is to forget and maybe get through her sophomore year without flunking chemistry and completely unraveling at the seams—a seemingly impossible task with the sudden appearance of ghosts from her mother's mysterious past and a hair-raising beast ripping people apart all over town. It would be easier to pretend if she hadn't accidentally entwined her life with the most interrogatory bastard in town. She could have gone her whole life without meeting Stiles Stilinski, and she would've been perfectly fine, but now she's stuck knowing that she's made her bed in the fragile, breakable bones of the boy with all the answers. Chapter Summary: After an awkward encounter with Lydia Martin, Stiles realizes that his new acquaintance might be the perfect person to jumpstart his 15-year plan. Drea, on the other hand, isn't interested in discussing her ex-best friend; she's much more focused on the man who was attacked by the mysterious beast ravaging the town.

A/N: This is an entirely selfish project. This rewrite has been so incredibly nostalgic, and I may or may not have cried a few times because the TW era was such a special time of my life. To be 17 again, sigh. You can also check me out on ao3 (dork_knight)!

Her dad’s SUV was parked in the garage when Drea finally pulled into their circle driveway. It was a rare sight; her dead battery had disrupted their usual routine. She was supposed to be safely tucked away in her room after an early dinner—take-out usually, sometimes a quesadilla if she was feeling exceptionally inspired—by the time her dad got home from work. It was dysfunctional in every sense of the word, but it was the only way they could function in the same space. 

He used to stare at her from the other end of the dinner table: not eating, not speaking. The only way Drea knew he was alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest. After a while, he moved dinner to his office. ‘Working dinner,’ he’d say in passing, ‘budgets are due.’ Eventually, he stopped coming home altogether. It was better that way, Drea thought. They loved each other better from afar, where the power of nostalgia could cloud all the present unpleasantries. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her now. She wondered, and she desperately didn’t want to find out.  

Drea shouldered her backpack and made sure her car lights were off twice before quietly creeping into the mudroom. She could hear the buzz of the microwave as she toed off her sneakers and tried to discern the smell emanating from the kitchen. Something with garlic and tomato. Bona Vita, probably. Her dad loved their al pomodoro. 

She tried to make herself as small as possible as she skulked into the kitchen, shoulders hunched to her ears and grip tight around the strap of her backpack. Her dad’s back was to her; she could see the wrinkles in his collar from where he tugged at it when he was agitated. He stopped stirring his pasta once she reached the island. 

“Did…” her dad trailed off for a moment, still facing the kitchen counter, “did everything go alright with the Sheriff?” 

Drea shrugged even though he couldn’t see her, “I guess.”

“It’s just,” he rubbed at his jaw and looked down towards the oven, “it’s almost eight. I was wondering…worrying.”

He still wasn’t looking at her. Drea stared at the back of his head and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Look at me. Her brows pinched, and her back molars ground together. Look at me. 

“I called him. Sheriff Stilinski. He said that you didn’t speak for long.”

“Didn’t have anything new to say,” Drea shoved her hands into hoodie pockets, realizing belatedly that she forgot to give Stiles his sweatshirt back. Another problem for another time. 

“That’s not what I—” Drea’s dad grasped the lip of the counter and hung his head like it suddenly weighed too much for his spine, “I was wondering what happened to you.” 

“Oh,” Drea shifted her weight onto her other foot, “dead battery. I think it was the door light.”

Her dad nodded a little, “Do you need someone to pick up your car?”

“Got a jump from a friend.” Not a friend, not really, but she supposed it was the closest she’d come to one in the last four years. That was just a little too sad to say out loud. 

“Good.” He nodded again, “Good.” 

Drea nodded because it seemed like the only thing to do and slipped towards the hallway. She’d taken no less than five steps out of the kitchen when her dad said, “You could call me. Next time, you could call me.”

Maybe. Maybe she could if he would look at her.

Monday came, and Drea had forgotten about Stiles Stilinski and his sweatshirt. In all fairness, she almost forgot her essay too. Lack of sleep, maybe, or perhaps lack of Wellbutrin—she’d also forgotten if she’d taken her pills before she left for school.

Drea crinkled her nearly empty can of Red Bull a few times and twisted the tab in circles until it snapped off. Nervous habit. She flicked the tab into a trashcan and squeezed the can until it crumpled in on itself. Okay, she’d definitely forgotten to take her pills. However, on her list of things to forget, homework outranked antidepressants by several places, so her day wasn’t off to the worst possible start in the world. Dr. Lin always said that she should spend at least five minutes every morning changing her ‘self-talk’ to ‘gratitude, not negatude’—she also said that consistently taking her meds was imperative to her mental health, but one out of two wasn’t so bad. See. Positive thinking; she was killing it. 

It was, however, pretty damn difficult to put a positive spin on a bloodied school bus cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. 

Drea lingered on the outskirts of the swarm of teenagers gawking behind the barricade that a few deputies were fruitlessly attempting to enforce. The back door of the bus was crumpled in the middle, wrenched open, and barely clinging to life with a lone intact hinge. More concerning, was the blood smeared across the yellow paint and the bloody handprints pressed against the windows.

She peered through the mass of shoulders in front of her and squinted. There were four large gouges in the door and tears in the vinyl seats—claws: Drea realized. They were claw marks. 

Baffling. The entire scene was, in all sincerity, baffling. 

Awful, Drea quickly corrected herself. The carnage was awful, first and foremost. It was awful, horrific, and totally tragic…but it was also bizarre. Animals, wild or not, generally didn’t hunt on school grounds; that honor was reserved for creepy super-seniors and perverse volleyball coaches. 

Drea chewed on her bottom lip and stewed. A bear seemed most likely, given the battering the bus took, but they were a long way from Los Padres. Mountain lions and coyotes, however, often strolled into small-town suburbia to snack on unaccompanied emotional support animals. Still, she doubted they had the strength or dexterity to rip a steel door off of its hinges. 

The first warning bell rang, and it was especially shrill while Drea was lost in her own head. She managed to not flinch with a herculean effort and pushed through the remaining voyeurs towards the front doors. Stuffing her airpods into her ears, she turned up the volume on her phone until the bass vibrated all thoughts of coyotes, cougars, and bears out of her mind. Oh my. 

Positive: Ellie Rowsell’s ethereal vocals demanded her full and undivided attention. 

Negative: Ellie Rowsell’s ethereal vocals demanded her full and undivided attention. 

She grabbed her chemistry notecards, a few highlighters, and a fat stack of books from her locker just as an overly-cologned jackass shoved his equally pungent friend straight into her crowded arms.

Positive: She hadn’t gotten the chance to organize her notes by unit number before they scattered all over the floor. 

Negative: They were still scattered all over the floor.

Biting back a few choice expletives, Drea crouched down and gathered her notecards into a messy heap. She stretched across the scuffed tile for her highlighters; one brushed past her fingertips and rolled into the pointed toe of a sleek brown leather boot. Drea glanced up, apology ready, but her tongue went cottony when she locked eyes with Lydia Martin.

Lydia Martin was many things to many people, but Drea supposed the general consensus would be that she was the apex predator—regardless of what the bloodbath outside might lead a person to believe. 

Most students were consenting prey. Enthusiastically consenting, in fact. Drea understood the impulse. Knowing she could destroy you, that was the thing that made Lydia so undeniably captivating. There were few people who proved the theory of the sublime in the flesh, let alone before they had the chance to get out of Dodge and really grow up. It was only natural to gravitate towards the only exception in Beacon County. Lydia was the duality of fear and attraction. She defined indefinable beauty—because she wasn’t just beautiful (anybody could be beautiful), Lydia was fiercely beautiful and, in the same breath, the grace of girlhood. She was…she suckerpunched Jordan Aadams in the third grade for making fun of Drea’s eyes without lifting a single manicured finger; that was the closest Drea could come to explaining the phenomenon Lydia Martin left in her wake.

Lydia’s thick red curls spilled over her shoulders as she looked down at the obstacle in her path. The angry pinch in her brows softened briefly once she made eye-contact with Drea, but she quickly corrected her slip and schooled her face into a blank expression. Returning her attention to her friend, Lydia’s heels clicked against the floor as she stepped over Drea’s copy of Metamorphosis and continued on with her conversation like it hadn’t ever stopped. Like Drea was just a mirage or a distorted oil-slick reflection—like she was a ghost who just wouldn’t fucking die already. Drea watched her go, forgetting to blink, until they reached Lydia’s locker on the other side of the hall.

Before she got extensions, Lydia liked to wear her hair in a French braid. Before she discovered full-coverage concealer, her freckles were golden against the fairness of her cheeks. Before everything fell apart, she was her best friend.

In the end, it wasn’t a terribly dramatic thing. There wasn’t a melodramatic scene or an explosive fight; sometimes, Drea wondered if that would've been better. There was a certain kind of brutality in a slow, quiet death; one that lasted long after the hot water had run out in the shower and shampoo stung her eyes. After the funeral, Drea could taste decay in their conversations, in their silences. The rot crawled listlessly—everything did back then—tauntingly sluggish. She saw the end coming weeks before they stopped speaking, and she didn’t even try to stop it. To be fair, Lydia didn’t either. On the first day of seventh grade, Lydia had new friends; they all smelled like vanilla and owned matching couture purses. She had always been magnetic, but evidently losing her only constant was her final quest before she transcended to godhood. Drea made her human; that must have been the problem. They were babies together. They were more than family. Now, they sat across from each other in a class she couldn’t bring herself to care about, and they did not look at each other unless it was straight through.

Drea snatched the runaway highlighter and quickly sunk back against the wall, pressing into it like she could force her body through the cracks in the bricks or at the very least shed the sentimentality clinging to her skin. She darted her gaze across the hall and almost snorted when she saw the amount of people who’d flocked to Lydia’s side within the last thirty seconds. Lydia was unobtainable, unknowable—and yet ever so desirable. No one really knew her, so of course they all wanted to be her. 

Lydia only liked one of them, the new girl with shiny black hair and dark eyes; Drea could tell. Her top lip pursed ever so slightly when she was holding back a barbed comment and a violent eye roll. Usually, Lydia didn’t bother with niceties, but for whatever reason she’d decided her new persona should only intimidate peons with looks and confidence, never brains. It was a shame, really; her cave-dweller boyfriend desperately needed educating. 

Drea resisted the urge to look across the hall again and smoothed out the bent corner of a notecard until ‘alpha’ became ‘alpha particle’. A shadow fell over the pink-highlighted text, and she frowned. Glancing up, her frown cemented when she saw Stiles’s elven nose and remembered that she still had his sweatshirt wadded on her desk chair.

“Hey,” Stiles adjusted his grip on his backpack, “did your car make it home okay?”

Drea nodded and shut her locker with her elbow, bending with the wobbling tower of school supplies in her arms until it stabilized again.

“Cool.” He nodded a few times, mouth puckered like a duck, and scratched at the back of his neck, “So. You and Lydia, huh.”

Drea stared intently at her notes, “Is that a question?”

“No, it’s a statement.” He hooked his thumbs around his backpack straps and leaned back slightly, “And that episode of telepathic taekwondo was definitely a statement.” 

Drea glowered until ‘alpha decay’ and ‘helium-4 nucleus’ mushed together into an illegible pink blob, “I’ve got a statement for you—only two words actually.” 

“So it is a thing.” She could hear the smirk in his voice as he grabbed the books from under her arms.

She refused to feel grateful, even as she readjusted her grip on her cards and managed to free one of her hands, “Get lost, Stilinski.”

“That’s three words.” The smirk was deafening now.

The one-minute warning bell rang and a mass of students swarmed the hallway, effectively drowning out Stiles’s smugness with a sea of jock whooping and band geek trumpeting. Drea met his gaze and smiled sweetly before stepping around him, “Kindly. Choke.”

She ignored the sound of Stiles’s large footsteps following far too closely behind her. She wanted to be annoyed with him, but English was his first-period and he did have her books in his stupidly big hands. Instead of flipping him off, Drea focused her itching fingers on stacking cards and pencils on top of her desk until Stiles sat down in the seat next to her—without permission. She changed her mind; he was annoying. 

Stiles scooted the desk closer to hers with his feet, and the metal legs screeched against the linoleum flooring for her. “Was it like a ‘grew apart over the summer’ thing, or did some serious shit go down?”

Drea sighed heavily and lined her pencils and pens next to each other, first in order of length and then color, “Why do you care?”

His mouth remained open for a second, and then he shrugged a little too casually, “I’m a naturally inquisitive person.”

“You’re unnaturally irritating,” she grumbled, low in her throat, and scowled at her picked-apart cuticles like they had done her a particular disservice. 

Stiles huffed through his nose and threw his hands in the air, “Come on, I totally saved your ass Friday—very chivalrously too, might I add. I won’t even press charges for the theft.”

“Theft?” Drea finally turned around in her seat to face him at the accusation. 

Stiles nodded solemnly, “My sweatshirt. My most favorite sweatshirt of all the sweatshirts.”

Oh. Drea deflated a little; she’d forgotten about that pesky little detail again. She snatched her books off of his desk before their lives could become further entangled and replied flatly,  “I’ll overnight it.”

“No, I insist you keep it.” His smile was a little too crooked to be truly cocky,  “I’m a good guy like that.”

Drea tapped her pencil against her chin, eraser side up, and cocked her head to the side, “Isn’t it incredible how every self-proclaimed ‘good guy’ is exclusively terrible.”

Stiles’s face twisted into a petulant scowl as he collapsed against the back of his chair, and Drea was a little surprised that the desk managed to contain all of his gangly appendages without collapsing as well. “I like her, okay!” His exasperated confession carried to the next row of students, and Stiles melted into his seat when a jacked sophomore with no neck whistled lewdly behind them. Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles lowered his voice, “Actually, I’m kind of in love with her if you want to be technical about it.”

“Oh.” Drea blinked and then laughed.

“Don’t laugh, dickface.” 

“Sorry,” she grinned, not sorry in the slightest, “it’s just…isn’t everyone?”

Stiles shook his head and sighed wistfully, “Not like I am.”

Drea turned to get a better look at him, and she didn’t mask the doubt in her eyes. He was wearing a brown flannel that was practically mewling for a good ironing and a red t-shirt with the silhouette of a spider embossed over his chest. Spider-Man’s emblem, obviously. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d bet it was the Andrew Garfield version. Regardless, it was blatantly clear that Stiles’s home planet was lightyears away from Lydia’s.  

Drea folded her arms over chest and leaned back against her seat, “Have you even talked to her?” 

“Technically…no,” Stiles dipped his head from side to side like a bobble head and then pressed his palms together, gesturing with them every so often to emphasize the most ridiculous words in his sentence, “but we have a deep, unspoken connection, mostly via sporadic eye-contact.”

Drea just looked at him, unamused and unimpressed.

Stiles held up his hands like a director and kicked his feet onto his desk, “It’s about the long-game.”

“Gross,” Drea pulled a face. She wasn’t sure if she was referring to the gray wad of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe or the pride in his long-con. It was probably a bit of both.

“Are you gonna help a Nobody out or not?” Stiles nudged the leg of her desk with his sneaker—the gumless one, thankfully—and sent one of her pens careening towards the edge.

Drea caught it before it could hit the ground and glared at him. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not an ‘in.’” She returned the pen to its rightful place between her pencil and purple highlighter: a perfect rainbow of neuroticism. Drea straightened her row of writing utensils again and swallowed shallowly, “I don’t even know her anymore.”

For the first time since Stiles had popped up in front of her locker like a chronic zit, understanding clicked in his eyes. Actually, he almost looked apologetic. Stiles sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and leaned forward onto his forearms, “So…what happened? Did you not make queen bee first-string?”

“No,” Drea bristled. After a long exhale, she crumpled in on herself a little and mumbled, “Yes…kind of. I don’t know. I have my version; I’m sure she has hers.”

Stiles clasped his hands together and nodded sagely, “There are as many truths as there are people.”

Drea’s brows scrunched, and her eyes went lidded as she flipped through her mental philosophy rolodex, “Camus?”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Evangelion.” 

Drea was startled into a snorty chortle, “Obviously you’re a weeb.”

Stiles hid his amusement behind a slow roll of his eyes, “You’re at least 1/16 weeb if you know Evangelion is an anime.”

Before she could deny such blasphemy, Drea was distracted by the boy who usually sat next to her—Greg something, she was pretty sure—coming to a stop directly between her and Stiles. He lingered next to the side of his desk, breathing heavily through his mouth like some kind of sick prowler. 

Stiles glanced at him with a flat expression and then looked up again, brows shooting towards his hairline, when he didn’t leave, “Can I help you?” He jerked his head forward and shook it slightly, “Need a mint?”

Greg Something stared at him, red-rimmed eyes thoroughly glazed over, and Drea wondered if being faded at 7:45 in the morning was worth the tortuous five-hour wait until lunch. 

“No?” Stiles waved his hand in the air; Greg didn’t even blink. “Okay seeya.”

It took him roughly 30 seconds to comprehend what Stiles was saying, but eventually Greg shuffled towards one of the remaining empty seats in the middle of the classroom. 

“Thank you,” Stiles muttered before returning his attention to the side of Drea’s face.

She smirked slightly at her notebook, doodling a little bird with sharp talons along the margins of her notes on Kafka’s thoughts on absurdism—spoiler alert: the guy who wrote a book about a dude randomly transforming into a bug was a big fan of it. She added a long feathered tail to her bird and said, “It is his seat.”

Stiles scoffed and looked over his shoulder. They watched Greg shove a handful of Cheeto Puffs into his mouth in slow-motion for a moment, and Stiles replied, “I think he’ll live.”

“Oh,” Drea shook her head a little, freshly bitten lips curling around the extended vowel, “I’m not worried about him.”

Stiles aggressively clicked his pen with his thumb and pressed his mouth together until his lips disappeared into a flat line. “If you would just answer my questions the first time, I wouldn’t have to keep asking them, so, for the love of god—” fortuitously for him, he was cut off by a loud scratchy buzz before Drea could succumb to her base instincts and throw an eraser into his flapping mouth. 

Principal Montoya’s voice crackled through the loudspeaker, “Attention students: I know that many of you are concerned about the…incident in the parking lot, but rest assured that the police have it well in hand. Classes will proceed as scheduled as they continue their investigation. Have a productive day, Cyclones.”

A resounding groan echoed throughout the classroom and into the hallway, followed by the hum of students breaking into various complaints. Mr. Lyman thwacked his pointer against the whiteboard, and the force of his swing sent the cartoonish hand on the end of the stick into rapid vibration—effectively shutting everyone up. The quiet was only disturbed by the rustle of zippers being unzipped and papers being smoothed when he instructed them to turn their essays in. 

Drea hastily wrote her name across the top of her paper and pointedly kept her eyes on the board when Stiles leaned across his desk. “Life’s short, y’know. One day you’re a traveling salesman, and the next you’re a grotesque, monstrous insect, wishing that you’d seized life when you had the opposable thumbs for it, so—”

“A man just died; have some class,” Drea interrupted him, voice dry as it was soft. Stiles might not care about getting in trouble, but she had worked very hard to remain on a no-name basis with all her teachers. 

“We don’t know that he’s dead—or that he’s a he.”

“Oh yeah,” Drea jotted down the daily prompt in her notebook and muttered, “I’m sure the guy just decided to go home and sleep off the mauled limbs.”

“It could’ve been an animal,” Stiles huffed, bowing his head in submission when Mr. Lyman shot him a stern look from behind his desk. He continued with his hand over his mouth, muffling his words, “And they do run off to die alone.” 

Drea stared at him for a long moment. “That’s cats. Are you saying a bear ripped a bus apart for a cat.” 

“Well, if you say anything in that tone, it’s going to sound ridiculous,” Stiles muttered sullenly against his palm, and she was pretty sure that he was pouting behind it too.

She opened her mouth to reply and then squinted slightly when a boy with floppy hair skidded to a halt in front of them. His mouth was slightly agape as he looked back and forth between Stiles and Greg, who was now licking the nearly toxic orange dust off of his fingers. 

 “Sit, Scotty,” Stiles jerked his thumb towards the empty desk behind him. “Good boy.”

The boy, Scott she gathered, did not look amused, but he sat down behind Stiles anyway and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. Stiles whipped around and responded in a hushed screech.

Drea was distracted from her eavesdropping when Lydia’s friend sat down next to Scott—directly behind her. Her jaw could cut glass. She dropped her chin onto her folded arms and refused to let herself frown; the end result was a slightly constipated pout. It was just…Allison had just started going to Beacon Hills a few weeks ago, and she was already completely intertwined in Lydia’s life. 

Lydia was…prickly, so she was just surprised, that’s all, how easily Allison fit into her life. More palatable, Drea thought as she risked a peek over her shoulder; she must be more palatable than most. A terrible, ugly thing creeped over her, and she found herself imagining Allison choking on her beautiful, silky black hair until her beautiful dark eyes popped out of her head. Just for a moment. A brief, awful, horrible moment—until she remembered it wasn’t Allison’s fault. 

“Hey.” Drea flinched when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

She reluctantly shifted in her chair so that she could see Allison. She just looked at her for an uncomfortable moment, and Allison smiled awkwardly, “The tests.” Drea blinked and licked her dry lips, at a loss for words. Allison smiled again, a little nervous but still kind, “They're on your desk.”

“Oh,” Drea said dumbly and reached for the pile of papers on her desk that she’d missed during her lengthy period of dissociation. She kept one and then held out the rest to Allison, mumbling, “Sorry,” under her breath.

Allison looked at her for a moment, and Drea didn’t like the discerning look in her doe eyes. “It’s okay. I zone-out all the time.” 

She could see why Lydia liked her; she was nice, overly so. Drea felt that ugly feeling slip into her mouth again, bitterness coating her tongue, and she wished that Allison was catty or at very least a vapid twit who was either too stupid or too self-involved to notice other people—like the rest of Lydia’s circle. 

“I like your necklace.” Allison nodded a little towards the black chain around her neck. 

A heavy pendant rested just over Drea’s sternum; the maze etched into the stone had eroded in places, like it had been left out in acid rain for decades. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was made of; her mother never said when she gave it to her, and she never asked. It didn’t matter much now. 

“Thanks,” Drea finally said, because that was what normal people did when they were complimented, and she was a normal person. Mostly. She swallowed thickly and bit down on the scab in the center of her bottom lip before adding, “I like your jacket.” She did. It was simple, unadorned by gaudy zippers and lapels like so many of the other leather jackets on campus. She would wear it herself if she didn’t break into a sweat in any temperature warmer than tepid. 

Allison’s cheeks dimpled when she smiled, and Drea quashed the sigh rising in her throat. Her smile was magnificent. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off, but my friend convinced me to—” Allison let out a little breathy laugh, “Sorry, you definitely don’t want to hear my jacket’s tragic backstory.”

She didn’t, not if it included hearing about Lydia’s fashion tips second-hand. Still, Drea managed a little smile, “As long as it doesn’t begin with a cow, you’re golden.”

Allison laughed and held up her hands, “It’s faux; I promise.”

“Ladies,” Mr. Lyman called from across the classroom, “I wasn’t aware that existentialism was so amusing.” Drea felt a dizzying heat crawl up her neck to her ears once she realized that the only noise in the room, other than Allison’s tinkly laughter, was the scratch of pencils on paper as students worked on their tests. 

“Sorry,” they mumbled at the same time, and Allison mouthed another ‘Sorry’ just for her before Drea turned around. Damn. She liked her. How incredibly inconvenient. She almost wished that Stiles was still pestering her so that she had a real reason to be upset—until she finally got a good look at the mid-term, more specifically at the thickness of it. Drea flipped through the lengthy test and looked at the ceiling briefly: Six essay questions? 

Positive: At least, she found a legitimate excuse to sulk. 

Negative: She felt a migraine coming on. 

[gothghostiie]

I feel like of all the COD folks, König, Alejandro, and Simon are the roughest doms. König gives the vibe that he’s DEFINITELY into whippings. Pulls out an actual whip to discipline his pets. I bet he also is into Master/Slave play, he has his playthings refer to him as ‘mein König’ and refers to them as ‘mein sklavin’

Alejandro is a guy who knows what he’s got. He knows he’s strong and hot as fuck. I think his favorite type of play is roleplaying an interrogation where his partner has information he needs. When they refuse him, he has no choice but to ravage them. I feel like he definitely threatens horrible things to his partner if they don’t behave for him, such as letting the rest of his Vaqueros have a go with them after he’s done

And Ghost. For him, it’s about reminding himself that not only is he no longer helpless like he was in Mexico, but he’s the one with someone else in his hands. Made all the better with the knowledge that both he and his partner are happy and consenting. The biggest ones he hits for me are CNC, gunplay, and long-term bondage. Hell, he likes doing all three at once- coming down into his kink dungeon in the morning to find his plaything still all trussed up where he left them, shaky and helpless; forcing them to ‘earn’ their breakfast by sucking him off with his gun to their head; then when they plead to be let go, he threatens to gag them if they don’t quit their whining

absolutely, 100%. though I'd add price to the bunch too (and later on Captain MacTavish)

also if ur looking for some good ass hardcore könig content check out @konigsblog (dark content, be warned) shes literally one of my favourite blogs ever!!

adding on to you, ale is brutal, mean:( hes the type to ruin your hole from behind with one boot on your head and slapping your ass, leaving you crying and bruised:(( and all you can do is cum over and over again

Simon is just.. ugh. yes. smacking you across the face harshly when you dare to talk back, acting like he's gonna do horrible things to you if you cant make him cum :((

price is the type to burn you with his cigars while torturing you with toys, sat on his desk as a crying, moaning mess:((

the aftercare from all of them is heavenly tho:"3

[wixelt]

(hermit tales au)

After she got those fateful words out, Pearl collapsed.

The previous part, for context.

---

Hermit Tales AU #003 - Pearl's Blight

"...Grian's gone."

The words spark dawning horror in the Hermits. They seem so innocent, yet with Pearl so dishevelled and shaken... So broken...

Something has happened. Something awful, the gut instincts of the older Hermits who have seen and been through more tell them. Something they don't yet know or understand.

Doc's still organic hand clutches at his cybernetic one in discomfort. He knows the Gods would not be responsible for this, and yet he gets that same feeling of cosmic uncertainty he felt just before fighting Dinnerbone. But its stronger now - not simply a casual bout - and feels awful in the pit of his stomach.

Similar expressions of worry cross the features of Etho, Beef, Joe... All old enough now to have been around the block a few times. To know bad tidings when they see them.

But they all know they can't be feeling it as deeply as Pearl, on such a level its ravaged her. Between the remnants of her Watcher power and her bond with her brother, she's the only one who can give them an immediate insight into this situation.

That isn't to be, though.

The moment the words of defeat cross her lips, its like a light goes out in Pearl, her head falling limp. She drops from exhaustion so suddenly that Gem and Impulse have to fight to keep a grip on her, lest a head injury be added to her woes. Carefully, they lower her to the ground...

...and for the first time - still as she is - the other Hermits are able to notice how pale she is. How she's shivering like its the deepest ice of winter.

This is not simply exhaustion.

Multiple Hermits are on her in moments. Stress, False, Scar... Any Hermit with skills in some form of medicine sets about checking on her, making sure their friend is stable.

Scar finds the blight first.

There's a clear red mark - bruised from impact and blistered like an acid burn - on her side, and from it sickening green lines - pulsing and gruesome - spread through her skin like a weed taking root. These veins - somehow winding and fractal at the same time - still spread as the Hermits watch in horror, the skin around these new intrusions turning as red and hurt as the impact.

And on looking at it, a voice in the back of Scar's soul suddenly screams wrong.

Scar has never heard the Vex show fear or disgust so deep before. So total they recoil anytime he presses for information.

Not even the Watchers could do something like this, cruel as they are.

In panic at Scar's sudden alarmed expression, the Hermits subject Pearl's incapacitated form to every trick they know to slow this infection down.

Gem moves her into a bed in close range of two full-power beacons, one spouting Regen I and the other Resistance II.

Countless Hermits take shifts dousing her unconscious body - unable to drink or eat - with splash and lingering potions of Slowness IV, Slowness+, Healing II, Regen II and Regen+ around the clock to shore up gaps in the beacon effects.

False and Scar spend several sleepless nights researching how to create a Potion of Luck to add to the cocktail - up to and including somehow using Joe Hills' natural good vibes as a catalyst - but come up blank.

Doc and Tango move a wrangled Elder Guardian into a neighboring chamber to afflict Pearl's form with Mining Fatigue, while Tango also helps Mumbo research somehow leeching the healing factor the Ender Dragon gets from end crystals to use for Pearl instead.

Ren and Cub quietly leave the Hermits' world and star system, seeking out the allies they've made through gatherings such as MCC. Surely somebody can help, or at least knows something about this.

Quietly and uncomfortably, Impulse presses a Totem of Undying into Pearl's unmoving hand, and keeps countless more on standby in the room.

Because the veins don't fade with respawn. Xisuma manually resetting Pearl's lifesigns was the first thing they tried, the blight only growing faster when she was restored, still out cold.

At this point, they need every edge they can get.

And even after all this - all these desperate measures - the blight progresses unabated. This affliction goes deeper than just her physical body.

Its slowed for sure, no longer visibly spreading across Pearl's skin, but it hasn't stopped or retreated or faded and after their initial measures and three days of ongoing treatment, the infection covers one side of her abdomen like a rat's nest of crisscrossing green thorns and patchy redness.

No Hermit dares touch it directly, lest the situation be made a million times worse.

Because they've been by Grian's base, now. They've seen the door-like thing that took him and scarred Pearl.

They fear it, though only Scar feels that fear anywhere near as primally as the siblings did, the power that recoils merely borrowed in his case.

They dare not get as close as the unfortunate did, and can learn little as a result.

All they can do now is wait for Pearl to wake up.

And pray that she does.

---

The Hermit Tales AU is built from replies to short prompts, making story & set pieces from your one-sentence asks & seeing if a plot evolves.

If you have anything to throw in, feel free. :D

[doctorstrangereview]

0056: Strange Tales #161

Cover Date: October 1967 On-Sale Date: June 29, 1967

It turns out that last issues was Ms. Severin's last and Dan Adkins takes over here. While he's not Ditko, Mr. Adkins manages to give some of his bizarreness with more of a creepy, horror movie vibe. I kinda like it. And I gotta say his Baron Mordo is really hot in that mature bear way! Raymond Marais continues his writing duties for what turns out is his final issue. He and Adkins make a good time conjuring some truly creepy images.

A souped-up Baron Mordo, apparently now stronger than Doc, banishes him to "the world of a million perils." He then turns to his new minions, still in their dull grey cult robes, to restore some of their power so he can use them to "ravage the cosmos!" Baron, you really need to get rid of the onesie before you do this ravaging, or everyone is just gonna die laughing.

This is the last we see of the minor noble with a major chip on his shoulder. The rest of the story we follow Doc as he traverses "the world of a million perils." Seriously, did someone actually count and catalog all these perils? Adkins does give us some interesting imagery. Not quite Ditko weirdness, but more imaginative than Everett or Severin.

Marais and Adkins give Doc some surprises as well. One is breaking out of the 9-panel format more often than previous artists.

Doc continues on and then meets the first of the creatures of this world. Who wouldn't be scared of, or at least grossed out by, a bat flying through snot.

Something prevents Doc from using his cloak of levitation and he continues to fall through "the world of a million perils." Seem like he's got at least 999,990 of them to go. Doc splats on what looks like an alien ocean and is washed up on an alien beach.

Doc takes a moment to contemplate his situation and Adkins takes a moment to give us this rather dramatic image. The size of his panels makes them a bit difficult to slap into those posts, but it's worth the squint.

While we don't return to Mordo, we do return to Earth for a moment to view Victoria Bentley's plight. Victoria is back in her flat and decides to "probe her own mind" as she waits for Mordo to get off his duff and tell her what to do. She remembers the gruff, cloaked stranger who was rude to a cabbie and then saved her life.

Suddenly Victoria is transported... somewhere else. Now we go back to Doc. Doc is realizing the extent of the power bequeathed him by The Ancient One and this also manages to let him control his cloak again. Woo Hoo! After he "feigns" weakness by running away from a giant centipede, he hears a scream from none other than Victoria Bentley. What a coincidence that the mysterious force that banished her (which is never identified) manages to send her to the same place to which Doc was banished.

Doc sees Victoria menaced by a giant ant. Mr. Adkins may know creepy, but it's Earth creepy.

Doc fries the giant ant and asks Vicky how she got there. She, of course doesn't know, but speculates it was Baron Mordo. This provides the cue for a booming voice to correct her. The intelligence that Doc has been searching for has revealed himself. Welcome Nebulos, Lord of the Planets Perilous. As this is "the world of a million perils" that checks. Nebulos looks like a sculpture that someone abandoned then dropped. Despite this Nebulos is rather full of himself calling himself "the wonder of wonders." I guess we'll need to wait until the next month to find out how wonderful he is.

The battle with Mordo is paused as Doc is sent on a quest. He's gotta overcome a bunch of obstacles (apparently 1,000,000 of them) to find his goal (Nebulos). It's good, but a but thin. I think it's aided by Adkins large panels taking up a lot of space making a seven or eight page story last ten. The art is an improvement over the last two artists. No offence to Mr. Everett or Ms. Severin. He's a bit more realistic than Bill and a bit more polished than Marie and a but more weird than either. It's make you look forward to the next installment. What does this gooey looking rhino have in store?

[tadfools]

requesting a vibe check! can someone do me a quick little favour and read this (is about 900 words) and tell me if it's a good opener for a story?

She could hear the fire crackling behind her, popping every so often with the remnants of the boar’s fat which had dripped within the pit several hours prior. It was a good find and, with Gale’s little freezing trick, would keep the group fed for at least another few days.

Tavris was almost hesitant to grab the animal’s carcass and take it back to the camp but Wyll and Karlach insisted. The placement was too perfect – the kill too clean. As if the beast was meant to be found.

Beyond that, Astarion had attempted to pull her attention from it in a way that opposed what she decided was his normal behavior. While they had only known each other for a handful of days, his need to draw her attention from the boar struck her as odd. Had Wyll not rolled it over with the heel of his boot, the two thin trails of blood clotting the fur of its neck would have gone unnoticed. Had Tavris not been slightly turned to the side, the motion of Astarion’s eyes darting away would have gone the same.

A problem for later she supposed. Everyone in the group was entitled to their own secrets. Astarion was no exception.

Their system for the night’s watch had gone well so far. With two of them being of the elven variety, it meant that watch could be split up between just the two of them while the others slept soundly for 8 hours. Though Lae’zel was prone to ‘scanning the perimeter’ before settling down, similar to a disgruntled housecat.

Tavris was meant to sleep first; with another three hours still to pass before her pale companion would end her meditation - if it didn’t come naturally to a close. She had pulled herself away from the group, stating that the sound of the river’s water aided her rest. Her back was now to the fire and the others sleeping soundly around its diminishing warmth. It wasn't necessarily a lie; the water’s babbling did help. Though not with any pathetic attempt at mediation. It was a distraction.

The gnolls that had ravaged that caravan… the blood of those accompanying it. All of it spilt poorly, with the same care a child would afford to throwing paint during a tantrum. It was disgusting.

Where was the artistry, where was the craft? The suffering of every human slaughtered there was ended quickly. The animals lunged for throats first. Pathetic. Would it have been so that she led the massacre, the suffering would have gone on for hours. The screams would have been savored with an expert’s care-

She snapped her eyes open, now faced with hands clenched into fist that sat in her lap. The deep purple of Tavris’ skin pulled taught around her knuckles as she flexed them. The thoughts weren’t getting any easier to push away. Her mind never stilled, near relentless in the horrors that would accost it at any given moment.

The most mundane of activities, it seemed, were tinged with depravity. Something as simple as cutting carrots for the stew which made the group’s dinner was twisted within brief flashes of each chop being a finger’s knuckle. The owner of the appendage howling in a pain that she reveled in.

The peeling of the onions was a task Gale gave to her after. Tavris could almost imagine it being the same as peeling back the skin of a face. An agonizingly simple motion, a simple pull of the ear and one could achieve a clean removal to the other side.

It was almost enough to drown out the prattling of her fellow wizard, who in the few days since they met, decided he was to be the group’s resident cook. There was a twinge in the back of her mind when she thought that. Not the mutilation of a man meant to be her friend, but in the idea that he could be considered an equal to her in any regard.

The magic that Gale played with wasn’t worth killing. It was meant for show - to impress others that were meant to die. Where Gale made a show of a flick of the wrist and bright colorful displays of sparks. She should’ve cut his hand off when she had the chance Tavris wield pure, concentrated death in her hands…it wouldn’t have been that hard to rot the wizard’s flesh.

None of that was within a line of thinking Tavris wanted to be anywhere near. She wanted to listen Gale’s stories of Waterdeep and learn how he casted spells like an art display.

It was easier to raise a corpse and have it an answer a string of questions than it was for her to produce a simple flame in the palm of her hand. Even in the fight against the gnolls, she wanted to lunge at them with a dagger instead of sending a bolt of radiant energy towards them from a distance. Why was that?

The headache which never fully left her thrummed in time with her heartbeat. A steady rhythm of blood which serenaded her in quiet moments. It was maddening.

What had she done before the nautiloid to be cursed with the inability to sit in quiet for even a moment? Tavris took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. If it was that painful to focus within, she would focus out.

The fire dying down, Karlach’s snoring, Shadowheart – or perhaps Wyll tossing in their bedroll, the river flowing away from them, frogs croaking and crickets chirping and the sound of… leaves crunching.

Crunching leaves that were all but muffled within the other sounds of the night. Had she not been actively listening the footfalls; they would have gone unnoticed.

[sm-baby]

Thank you for answering my ask once again!!

And bestie, I am not new, I've BEEN here. I've just never said anything. I was really afraid since you were such an inspiration to me, and who you are, and how beautiful your mind is. You are able to express things I've dreamed of doing for years upon years.

I also want to hear about the Illagers- my favorite Minecraft mob is a ravager. How about yours?- I really wanna hear about their interactions, between each other. Witches interact with Villagers in your stories- Has there been a peaceful interaction of them with Illagers on the record? Or they are not interacting like that?

IMMM YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SENT AN OLD ASK THAT SAID YOU WERE NERVOUS TO APPROACH- I DIDN'T GET TO CHECK WHEN I ANSWERED YOUR ASK-- Don't be shy, man!! I'm just vibing here, interacting with my followers makes my day! "how beautiful your mind is" "you're able to express things I've dreamed of doing for years upon years" OH OK I'M GONNA CRY NOW- Honestly man, Just write down your ideas! This Blog is very much for info-dumping and it's so much better to put down the ideas in your head rather than let them sit there. whether it be posting it, putting it on a google doc, or heck your notes app, your future self with thank you!

My favorites are Villagers :3c obviously. I still dote on them in present-day-- wish I could do more with them in-game. But I get it, I get it, simple gameplay I respect that 😌✋

Pulls out the slides for u!!

The Villagers are sort of a "stay out of it" species compared to their illager and witchy counterparts, though I think it depends on where you live. Apollo Witches like Villagers while Athena has no respect for them! Illagers just straight-up hunt them for resources!

Villagers never really changed compared to their witch counterparts. while Witches expanded and grew, villagers stayed with their most unproblematic small villages! There wasn't really anything to fix!

well.. other than..