#alright there's too many tags here ill shut up now

[justbelievinginmagic]

im(mortal) - part 1: blood moon.

pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader, series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? glimpse: A century-old mansion stood in the middle of nowhere engulfed by an inferno of fire. Seven figures stand in front of it; each with sharpened bittersweet smiles on their mouths as they remember how it all started so so long ago. warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore & Enhypen's Dark Moon album (but not really its lore), Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, College AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, ot7 x reader but not poly ot7 (but some are really close tbh), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mature topics, angst, human experimentation, medicine (pills/shots), death, injuries, biting, medical imagery, implied abuse, canonical violence & trauma, vampire lore, blood, Ni-ki as Riki, vomiting, illnesses, fire, arson, no mention of YN this chapter as a heads up! let me know if more tags need to be added! word count: 7.3k -> next chapter series masterlist

Seven different wooden chairs were the only furniture that remained in the large solarium. The wall paper had peeled over the years, revealing different variations of ugly, always baby-blue print. The most recent, which was faded beyond belief, was a lattice print; the one under it was a honeycomb pattern; beneath that was a plain baby blue wallpaper. Chipping. Fading.

There were more echoes of the past. Dark mold clung around ghostly shapes of posters, strangely shaped equipment, and long-gone furniture - the shape of a piano was in one corner and the outline of a fine-china cabinet was in another. The linoleum floor was cracked and warped revealing wooden panels beneath. The room smelt of mildew, and there was the faint sound of dripping water from somewhere.

Sunghoon sat down on his chair, the aged wood creaking under his weight. It was strange. Looking down the row of chairs, he could see ghosts of themselves. Jungwon with his wide dark brown eyes. Sunoo clinging to his stuffed bear that he loved so much. Riki’s feet dangling off his chair, too short for his feet to touch the floor yet. He could smell the disinfectant in the air. It always smelt like bleach and chemicals in the solarium despite the large windows lining the walls. They never were opened, white curtains drawn shut. Even now they remained, yellowed with age and soggy with mold.

He had spent so much time here. They all had but he could walk this room with his eyes shut and he wouldn’t have bumped into one piece of furniture or step on one creaking piece of plank of wood in the flooring.

He let out a sigh; his eyes shutting as he tried to calm his racing heart. This was the exact reason they had to return to the mansion. They needed to. Too many memories, too many connections, too many emotions. Sunghoon hoped Jay was alright.

“I found him,” a voice called out, the tone gentle and melodic as usual.

Sunghoon’s lips upturned as he turned away from the past to look at Sunoo. With his bleach blonde hair peeking out from beneath a beanie, his leathered jacket, and tattered jeans, it was easy to be reminded of reality. Sunoo was not a little boy with dark black hair clinging to a stuffed animal anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time.

The linoleum squeaked beneath Sunoo’s shoes as he walked into the large room.

“Wow,” he breathed softly. “I thought seeing the rooms were weird.”

He sighed out, the sound mimicking the breath Sunghoon had heaved moments earlier.

“It’s weird for sure,” Sunghoon said, rising to his feet after a long stretch with his head tilting back as far as it could before straightening and standing.

There was a rustling like a wind brushing through the room. And with it, the world melted away, glowing faintly, just enough to paint the room in a nostalgic light. The wallpaper was honeycombed pale blue; the ceiling fan overhead spun slowly; the room was casted with natural and gas light. A table sat in the center, circular and covered in a white sheet. 7 dining spots were set, a plate, a fork, and a papered cup, each. Each of their chairs were in their spot – polished wood gleaming in the light.

The sound of piano playing a familiar melody that they all had once help create.

Sunoo smiled at Sunghoon. His hair looked darker now in the allusion, his face rounder. His teeth were duller.

“Sunoo,” Sunghoon pleaded, shutting his eyes. “Please don’t.”

With that, the allusion washed away like a chalk painting on a rainy day, turning grey and muddied until the aged room was all that remained. The younger frowned.

“I hate this place,” Sunghoon murmured.

“Same,” Jay’s voice chimed in.

Their heads swung around to see the other man enter the doorway. He grimaced at the sight of the blue room. Jay leaned on the door frame, his hands resting on either side of the door.

“Jungwon’s all done. You guys ready?”

Sunoo took a deep breath in, and Jay winced.

“Sunoo,” he sighed out, taking a step forward almost instinctively.

“I’m fine,” Sunoo insisted, immediately.

His smile was sweet as a spoonful of sugar, wide eyes gentle as he shifted on his feet. Twisting restlessly, his arms spun a bit as he did so, childlike. Jay raised a singular brow before turning towards Heeseung’s call from down the hall.

He didn’t believe Sunoo for a moment. But all Sunoo did was avoid the elder’s gaze, glancing aside, his gaze gravitating to the chairs this time. His chair looked so tiny now. Was it always that small?

“C’mon,” Jay gestured towards them with his head. “They’re waiting.”

With one final look, Sunghoon left the solarium, passing Jay with a steady look in his eye. Jay returned it, sympathy echoing on his face. Sunoo stood there, his hands moving to play with the straps of his backpack.

“You think I’ll feel better?” Sunoo questioned, quietly.

“We all will once we’re done,” Jay commented, leaning on the door frame. It creaked with his weight tauntingly. Jay glanced down the chairs lined up beside him. His chair was missing an arm now.

“I think it’ll help.” He admitted, not looking at the younger. “You’ve been holding onto it for so long, Sunoo.”

There was a tiny hum in the back of Sunoo’s throat. Jay could feel the emotions radiating off of him, the twisted emotions of nostalgia, hurt, pain, sorrow, and strangely euphoria. Jay didn’t understand how Sunoo could feel any happy memories here.

Sunoo shouldered his backpack off and unzipped it. Inside was a stuffed bear. Greying with age, covered in stitches and makeshift patches of fabric to keep his stuffing from tumbling out. He was damaged but well-loved. Old but cared for. Sunoo plucked the thing up. The fur wasn’t soft anymore despite its age. No amount of cuddling made it more gentle, it was always harsh against his skin. He swallowed, looking over at the bear.

Jay glanced aside.

Sunoo breathed out, a thumb brushing over a glass eye, over the worn silk of the ribbon around its neck. With another shuddering breath in, Sunoo placed the bear on his chair. He sat so nicely as if meant for it.

“It’s time,” Sunoo whispered.

“It is,” Jay agreed, watching as Sunoo picked up his now empty backpack.

With quick footsteps, Sunoo exited the solarium without another look. Jay glanced around it once last time before shutting the door behind them with a clank. The two men walked through the mansion, down a dusty hallway. Their feet remembered each creaky floorboard as they continued onwards.

The foyer was all wood and white peeling paint. A singular electric light hung by a chain above the group of men standing in a semi-circle. Waiting for them.

Jungwon’s face was stoney and serious, but at the sight of the others he offered a tight-lipped smile.

“All good?” he asked.

Jay nodded in reply for the group. “Yeah, just checking out the solarium.”

Sunghoon’s hands trembled he noticed then; he hid them in his jeans’ pockets.

“I’m so ready for this place to be nothing but a memory – for good,” Niki commented from his side, his voice sounding harsh as he glared at the high ceilings. The stairwell nearby casted a shadow over his face.

Heeseung said nothing but there was a tickle in the back of their heads – his agreement palpable. Sunoo was quiet as he went to Jungwon’s side. He didn’t grab his arm, but he huddled close. Jay rubbed his forehead as he nodded.

He wanted all of this to be over.

“Let’s do it then.” Jake said. His fingers began to glow, ember hot red.

Dark red eyes took in the mansion for the last time before they glanced at each other. A solemn nod from Jungwon was all they needed before they crept outside of the mansion. Jake’s hands trailed over the wall; it would be described as reverently if there wasn’t such a deep scowl on his pretty features. His lip was curled back into a grimace as flames licked from his fingertips and onto the century old wood of the mansion. A complicated look flickered over his face as he watched the fire catch, a surge of flames erupting up the white paint and traveling higher and higher until they caught onto the ceiling.

“That should do,” he heard Heeseung’s voice in his head, encouraging Jake to join the group outside the burning mansion. As he did so, Jungwon closed the front door with a heavy slam.

-

With a slam, the door thudded shut, piquing the interest of the two boys peering down from in between the stairwell’s posts. Two small faces pressed against the wooden balusters as they watched a man enter the mansion. White coat, spectacles, and carrying two leather bags that were heavy in his grasp. Behind him stood a trio of nurses in their pastel-mint, perfectly pressed dresses and ivory aprons and caps.

“It’s a doctor,” the elder whispered to his friend. Their eyes widened as they focused back far below them.

The doctor glanced upwards, hearing their small voice. He smiled. His footsteps echoed on the floorboards as he went towards the manager’s office.

“Is someone sick?” the other boy hugging his toy bear whispered back.

“No,” the other shook his head. “I don’t think so. . . “

“Maybe they want to adopt one of us?” the younger offered, fiddling with the bow on the bear’s neck.

“Maybe.”

There was a loud thud as the doctor and his entourage entered the manager’s office. The door’s lock sliding into place was even louder. The youngest flinched, fiddling with the silk on the bow even more, soothingly.

“Let’s go tell the others.” The elder said encouragingly, standing from his spot to rush down the upstairs hall to the bedrooms.

-

Not long later, the orphans stood in a line by height, much to the despair of the eldest who was still shorter than the youngers. Each one was examined. An illuminator shined into their brown eyes, into their tiny mouth. A nurse took down notes that the doctor murmured behind his medical mask.

Tapetum lucidum, negative. Tapetum lucidum, negative. Tapetum lucidum, negative.

Number 6 and 11, primary. Number 6 and 11, permanent. Loose number 11, primary.

Their blood was drawn in multiple small vials later by the nurses. Some of the youngest struggled with the blood draw, afraid of needles and blood. A nurse said with a cool smile, “You’ll get used to it.”

This wouldn’t be the first time they’d line up like this. Sometimes, it was weekly; other times, it was daily. Medical notes needed to be updated frequently was all the doctor said.

Then came the pills. They took at least one with every meal; some of them took more than others. When Jay had asked a nurse why were they taking them (they hadn’t taken any ever before!), she had reassured him it was for his well-being. Good boys take their medicine. She chirped out.

The old white-haired manager welcomed the doctor to set up an office in an unused music room, pushing the piano out into the hallway where it sat, taller than most of the boys.

Rules around the mansion began to change soon after. There would be no more adoption visits, no more potential guardians for the time being. No more new additions to the household either. The orphanage’s manager, the old woman with ashy white hair, had smiled at them around the table at dinner time. Each in their chair donated by the nearby town, mismatched like themselves.

She said this was for the best. That this was a way for them to be good boys of society.

They took their pills that waited for them in a small paper cup.

There was another change. No more outside time. No visits into town. No visitors at all. Their solarium that they had once used for potential adoptive parents to meet them turned into a sort of common room, a living room and dining hall all in one. A table for meals had been set up with a white sheet covering its surface. A collection of their toys sat in a corner with a rocking chair that was nearly falling apart. The piano had been pushed inside by the older boys; two raggedy repatched sofas were there as well to lounge about on. As they grew, a bookshelf was shoved against the wall next to the manager’s fine china cabinet (that they were to never touch or else they’d be punished.) It was where they would live, play, assemble for meals, and assemble for treatment. That was their outside now. A tiny blue wall-papered solarium with humidity fogged windows, covered in white lacy curtains.

They complained at first. These changes were horrible. They loved playing outside on the apple tree’s swing and the nearby flower fields. They wouldn’t go into town but let them play outside, please. But, when any of them tried to sneak outside, their punishments grew.

First, it had been the addition of heavy-padlocked entrances and exits that only the doctor, manager, and head nurse held the keys for. When the youngest stole the head nurse’s key when she wasn’t looking (to go play on the swing on the yard’s apple tree), they were quickly limited to only the manager. When the most-sensitive of the group crept outside a window to go pet a stray cat on the back porch, the isolation room was introduced.

It was a bare dusty thing– an old dance room that was used when there were girl orphans. Once it had become an all-boy’s orphanage, it was left abandoned, cold, and grimy. It was dark; there was only candle-based lighting in that room. Gas lighting was slowly being introduced to the cities and towns of new, and, while some of the house had the trailing, twisting wires leading to easily burnt-out light bulbs, the isolation room didn’t. Two floor-to-ceiling walls of cracking mirrors decorated opposite walls of the room with a barre screwed into one of them. Another wall was old brick, harsh and unwelcoming. It felt like an endless room if you stared long enough into the mirrors. A room where you’d be locked away until you were more well-behaved. To think about your actions. (Which were what? Leaving the house they were trapped in? They didn’t understand why things had to change.) The youngest hated the room.

He became very familiar with the room throughout the following years.

-

It was a slow life. They grew taller; they lost baby teeth; they celebrated birthdays. Their medicine increased and decreased; their rooms grew more familiar. The isolation room became common-place especially as some of the boys edged into teenagerhood. Soon, the doctor moved into the office. Soon, there were even more tests. More pills, even injections. Their halls reeked of antiseptic and the metallic tang of medical equipment. The manager passed away on Jay’s twelfth birthday, but nothing much changed except for the fine-china cabinet being raided and left empty – by who the boys never knew for sure.

The pills continued. The examinations continued.

-

Jungwon was the first to be considered a success by the doctor.

He was no older than ten when he discovered his new talent – speed. Indoor races back and forth in the solarium became easy; in fact, he kept teasing the others that he was faster, faster, faster than them all. But it wasn’t just speed he discovered: it was hunger. A hunger that crawled in the pit of his stomach. A hunger that was a maw to all food.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

Nothing satiated it. Nothing until he snapped at a nurse. Bit into her arm with the feral nature of a dog captured. A fit of anger, a tantrum, the doctor had noted at first until… until… there was a growl, inhuman. Deep in the young boy’s chest. The boy, the sweet friendly boy who hated the pills ever so much, glared up at the doctor. Red eyes, red mouth, white fangs.

Instead of being scolded that evening and tossed into isolation, he was given the sweetest treat he had ever tasted. A red jelly that jiggled like a belly while laughing. But smelt of iron-blood.

He was a success. He deserved to be celebrated.   

The others followed swiftly.

-

Heeseung hated the pills they were forced to ingest. Wake up; pills. Lunch; pills. Dinner; pills. Pills, pills, pills. He hated them. He hadn’t been there the longest – that title went to Jungwon, but he was the eldest of the boys. So, since day one of the doctor’s arrival, he had a higher dose of everything until it was proven unhealthy for the boy. What was unhealthy was difficult to determine apparently. He’d vomit; his stomach cramped. He’d be trembling with chills and hot with a fever within hours. He was bedridden; he was exhausted; he was jittery.

He had seven pills in his cup. Why? Why? Jay had two pills!

He asked why; they didn’t tell him. When his symptoms grew, Heeseung tried to figure out how to feel better. Take more pills, take less. Nothing worked. His body weening from the medicine was just as bad as taking the medicine he realized. His skin crawled. His head felt like it was going to explode. Sometimes he couldn’t bear the sunlight touching his skin. It burned his eyes, forcing him to stay in his room. Once he tried to hide his pills. He tucked them into his pillow, threw them out the window. When it was discovered by one of the trio of nurses, he wasn’t punished. He simply was force-fed the pills rather than allowing himself to drop each tablet on his tongue. That happened for a month. After that he didn’t challenge them again. Grimacing, he’d swallow down the pills pressed against his mouth. Always at the supervision of a too-calm nurse with a sick smile on her perfectly lipsticked lips.

He tried to talk to Jungwon, but Jungwon didn’t talk much anymore. He simply stared. Stared and stared as he sat at the head of the dinner table, plate empty. Eyes empty. When was the last time he saw his friend smile… eat… It scared him. Sometimes Heeseung swore he could hear his voice in his head.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

Can’t. Can’t. Can’t.

Control. Control. Control.

Heeseung would itch and writhe and change until he too couldn’t stand the taste of food. Couldn’t swallow another bite of rice. Until he tried to attack his nurse as she fed him his pills. With aching teeth and a gnawing stomach, he bit his nurse’s hand as she forced the pills down his throat. Heeseung thought her blood tasted sweeter than any treat he’s ever tasted.

That night at the dinner table, there were now only five plates full of food and two bare. It was also the first time Jungwon heard another voice in his head, one that sounded like the eldest without him opening his mouth. Their dark rubied eyes locked.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Heeseung chanted in Jungwon’s head. 

-

The youngest Riki, often called by the nickname ‘Niki’ after he stumbled over his own name in introductions at the orphanage, was exceptionally difficult. He spat out his pills; he’d get placed in isolation. He fought with the others; he’d get placed in isolation. He stole Sunoo’s bear; isolation. Far too often, he was in the locked room. Solidarity confinement to encourage him to play nice. It just made him feel invisible and hurt – especially when none of the boys visited him.

Except for Sunoo who loved to act as older brother to the younger (despite holding his stuffed animal close to his chest everywhere he went in the mansion). He’d sit outside the isolation room’s door, whispering ‘hello’s underneath the door’s gap or peering through the keyhole to see each other and wave his bear’s paw at him. Riki would tease him about his stupid bear, but then he’d cling to his own pillow as the nurses began to inject whatever was in the pills into his arm. It was then proven that he was no troublemaker, just a lost little boy clinging to a pillow as another shot was pressed into his arm. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Riki hadn’t taken the pills in a while, not like his hyungs. He told his doctor that he liked the pills. Can’t he take the pills again? He wouldn’t spit them out, promise! The injections hurt. His arm would ache. Then, his stomach would ache. Then, his head would ache. He’d toss and turn on the examination table in agony.

It went on for so long. Sometimes the others would hear his cries at night, whimpering for a mother or father that wasn’t there. Eventually, Jungwon would sneak out at night, too fast to catch, and rest on the floor outside of the isolated room to whisper comfort to the youngest.

It’ll be okay. You’re okay.

I’m here, Riki. I’m here.

With the sadness, the loneliness, the pain, there was a violence brewing in Riki after each check-up. He was angry, no, beyond that, he was rageful. He wished the nurses, the doctor, the manager of the orphanage, could feel what he felt – like time had stopped. He found out one day that his birthday had passed with no celebration.

“It was a lesson,” a nurse warned as she drew his blood. “Good boys get to celebrate fun things.”

He watched as his blood filled the vial with disdain. It looked sludge-thick, dark red.

He craved something he didn’t understand right then. His stomach curdled and ached. But food tasted of ash, of dirt, of everything bad. Bad, bad, bad. He refused to eat, gnashing teeth at anything they offered. He wouldn’t even drink a sip of blood when it was finally presented to him. In an unassuming white Dixie Cup. He threw it at the doctor, growling.

“Ungrateful boy,” the doctor hissed out.

Hungry, he thought.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

He needed food, not blood!

They had to restrain him, a shackle on his ankle to the nearby brick wall of the isolation room… until he tore it away from the wall it was mounted in. Until his hunger blinded him in blood-red. Until he was somehow out of his room, on the other side of the locked door. Until he was tearing his fangs into the first person he saw – into the neck of his friend who often came to sit outside his bolted-room door to talk. Sunoo.

-

Sunoo had been born by the bite rather than the pill. Riki had drained him near dry before the nurses had found them in a daze. He was half-dead, and the only way he was recovered was through Jungwon. His blood was siphoned into the dying veins of Sunoo. His venom; his blood; their venom; their blood.

Sunoo’s eyes flashed opened, and he saw only red for a moment. Vermillion haze. Until he saw his friends, his so-called brothers, peering over at him on the makeshift medical bed. His throat ached, but he simply smiled. Fangs and all.

He suffered the most after his transformation. Unlike the others whose symptoms came and went in waves, building gradually before they succumbed, he went through everything at the same time. He couldn’t go into daylight, couldn’t bear the touch of the sun or the glare of lights; he was hungry all the time and would attack for it. He’d try to bite his brothers; he’d eat scrapes he’d find from the night’s dinner; he’d vomit. Anger would overwhelm – he even tore the limbs off his beloved stuffed bear which left him crying inconsolably. He felt like he wasn’t even himself. Unsafe.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

His feet moved so fast one day; some thought he was levitating… until they realized he was. If he was scared or hungry or anything, he’d fly away, hide away in a closet. He’d hug his stitched-up bear close to him, whispering words with sharpened teeth. All the while he hoped this was all a nightmare he’d wake up from.

Sunoo learned, if he tried hard enough, he could live in his mind. Making up a world he loved. Where he felt safe. Sometimes if someone was close to him, they could see his fantasy world too. So bright, so beautiful. Only for it to eventually fade away into this. A mansion of horrors.

-

At this point, the boys had been divided up. Half remained in the solarium, the other half in their bedrooms. The solarium had been converted into a horrible makeshift medical office. White bedsheets were draped about, over the bookshelf, the table, their chairs, the sofa. Everything. Medical equipment – syringes, needles, pills, IV drips. A machine that beeped with their heart beats. They were poked and prodded. Doses were increased.

Jake. Jay. Sunghoon. Grew. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

-

Jake had a strange case of side effects. Hot and cold. He was cold. Icy to the touch. He felt half-dead for days before breaking out into a fever. So hot and restless. He’d sink down in icy baths for hours. He felt more like he was half-fish than human sometimes.

He’d rest his forehead against the cool bathtub’s porcelain and breath in and out only for that once icy cold water to become boiling hot. His hands glowed, heat pulsing from them as the water bubbled about him. He’d throw himself out of the tub, scalding hot water sloshing onto the tiles below.

Nurses would run in. Fearful only for him to look at them, eyes strangely bloody, and his hands sparking with fire.

He was locked up like Riki once was. With the addition of flame-retardant gloves and chains tight on his hands. He was quiet when they did so. He grew quieter and quieter as the days passed. With hot flashes, cold flashes, hunger flashes, he felt like a live wire.

Sometimes, when he was bored, he’d stare at the lights, blinding white lights until they’d burst. Until he flooded the electric grid and the entire house suffered power outages. He didn’t know how he did it. All he knew was that he could. Something was wrong.  

One day, when he felt cold as ice with a stomach gasping with hunger, the smell of food disgusted him. The nurse sent to feed him his porridge made the wrong move. Unclasping his shackles, undoing his gloves. He pounced, more monster than man and bit her, drained her. There were no other nurses rushing in; there was no doctor to stop him. Jake didn’t stop drinking, drinking, drinking until it was just him and the corpse of a nurse he’d known for half of his life. He passed out in a fever soon after, still hungry he realized pathetically.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

He was found by the doctor hours later. His mouth was cleaned, his clothes cleaned; he was laying in his bed and not the isolation room. The nurse was gone. Where had she gone? The young teen stared up with blood-red eyes. The doctor smiled and said everything was okay now. He was forgiven.

A cup of blood was handed to him in a paper cup.

Jake took it, knowing he was freed from his cage, his restraints gone, but somehow still a prisoner to a new shackle he didn’t want to bear.

-

From day one, Jay had always listened to the nurses, had listened to their manager, had listened to the doctor. For years, he listened and obeyed. He was a good patient, a good boy. Trusting their words as they fed him pill after pill, shot after shot. No matter how much he cried when his arm ached or his stomach churned. They’d say he was a good boy for taking his medicine. “Why couldn’t you be good like Jay?” He had heard that said hundreds of times.

So, it was funny how miserable he felt. How bad like a rotten apple sitting in the sun. Jay just felt awful. His friends one by one turned into someone unlike themself. Biting, blood, red eyes. Everyone felt angry… he didn’t know how he knew it but he did. Sometimes, if he stared at them long enough, he could just tell.

The nurse was upset today. She was sad and guilty… they tasted like the smell of rain, like salty soup.

Another nurse hadn’t come into care for them. Maybe she was with the others? He couldn’t tell.

Sunghoon was lonely; it tasted like woodchips, like dust in the corners of a room. Jay tried to play a game with him, but soon their different symptoms distracted them. A headache, nausea, exhaustion.   

The doctor was never angry. He wasn’t sad either. He was so joyful at their suffering. Jay could taste it like it was liquid sugar, melting on his tongue. Jay hated him. Sometimes he hoped the doctor could feel it when he glared at him. Sometimes Jay swore he did, when he’d flinch or take too sharp of breath in.

While Jay was one of the eldest, he was one of the last to change fully. He was stuck between food and blood for a long time. Unlike the others, his eyes didn’t turn red when he was given a cup of blood. He drank it down like a good boy, but it didn’t have the same effect as the others. So, they’d mix some blood into his soups, his porridge, his rice. Everything a pale pink. He’d throw it up. Food disagreeing with him; blood disagreeing with him. More tests had him hooked up to IVs, and his blood tested.

The nurses said it was his will not the treatment’s fault. The duo said they saw him hungry during their blood-draws; they said they saw how he’d lick his lips whenever the blood from his own veins dripped into the vial.

Blood called to him like a siren from a fairytale.

The first time he attacked the doctor for his blood was the last time he drank from a human who was awake. Their pain, their emotions flaring, he felt it then. Understood it then. It bittered everything. It hurt. He hated it. He hated it all.

He drank blood from an IV. From a cup. From the jelly the nurses made. Never from another being. Even if his stomach growled and the maw inside him whispered: Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

Jay refused to be a monster.

-

Sunghoon was last to change. The loneliest. He was kept away from the boys after they turned one by one. Locked away in the solarium, he slept there, ate, read. Every now and then, Jungwon would visit him by the window. One warm hand pressed against the glass, larger than Jungwon’s cold palm.

He felt weak. Not only was he somehow not changing to whatever his friends were – but he was exhausted daily. Laying in the solarium, he began to sleep during the day, staying awake all night. As time pass alone, his tests grew worse. His muscles were deteriorating. Like his body was eating away at him. Pain became Sunghoon.

They whispered; he heard them. Should they use the others’ blood? Their venom? But Sunoo was so feral; he apparently had just begun to adjust. Could they handle another boy acting so erratic?

He couldn’t understand that he was dying. He was in a blur; sometimes it felt like the world would just blend into a watercolored haze, and he’d be outside his body. He knew where the nurses were, the doctor, the other boys. Their hearts, their breaths, their muscles flexed as his deteriorated. It was strange, scary.

It wasn’t until one day there was a horrible cracking sound from his body, unearthly. Inhumanly monstrous but also frighteningly fragile that the doctor simply force-fed him blood. Just regular blood. No venom, no medicine, no Jungwon or Riki or Jay or Heeseung.

It was vile. Blood wasn’t meant for humans. . . was he a human? He didn’t know anymore. The blood was poured down his throat. Head tilted back; nose plugged. Iron-sick, ruby-slick, he’d cough and cough as he sat up from his ‘feeding.’ Blood dripped down his chin, staining his sweater.

“You look better,” said the doctor with a disgustingly joyful smile. A bright light shined in his eyes made him blearily blink.

“Tapetum lucidum, positive.” The doctor said pleasantly, to the nearby nurse before clicking the illuminator off.

Red eyes, red mouth, baby fangs. It took time, but they grew and elongated after two weeks of forced blood drinking 3 times a day. Despite his hunger, Sunghoon hated blood. He didn’t want it; he didn’t want the hunger.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

The next time, on day fifteen, he drank willingly. Not just one cup but seven.

-

The examinations didn’t stop. The medicine didn’t stop. Even after all of this, they were forced to drink this blood and their pills.

The only difference was that they finally weren’t separated. The day they were reunited was strange. Waves of emotions only led to the boys staring at one another like strangers. Some looked so different. Sunghoon hadn’t seen Jungwon in over a year. He almost didn’t recognize him. Riki was taller. Sunoo clung to Jungwon’s arm. Jake looked like a ghost.

“The family is back together,” the doctor cheered as they all sat in the solarium together for the first time in months.

Rubied eyes stared at the doctor, silent.

“Let’s take a photograph to commemorate this!” a nurse chimed out.

There was only one nurse left now – they didn’t know where the second one went. Sitting together on a white draped sofa, the seven didn’t smile. They simply stared as the large contraption was set up on spindly metal legs. With a crack of a light bulb, the photograph was taken.

Their eyes looked eerily pale in the monochrome photo, like a dog’s at night. The doctor was the only one grinning ear to ear. A flicker of a fang was visible in Riki’s grimace.

Photographs of their mouths and eyes were taken that day, too. Sometimes Heeseung wonders if it was all for that from the start.

-

“We should leave,” Jay whispered one night.

The boys - no, they weren’t boys; they hadn’t been boys in a long time – they were men, teenagers with the tempers of children and the hunger of a monster – they sat inside Jungwon’s bedroom, a common gathering place solely due to the bright moon outside of his window. None of them had windows – too much of a risk. But, Jungwon had been such a good boy. Such a success.

Jungwon just simply knew what the nurses and doctor wanted. A doll. A research subject. So he was that, a scientific silent thing. But here he’d stroke his Sunoo’s head as he curled into his lap, still clinging to his bear. Here, Jungwon’s rubied eyes that stared blankly at dinners and breakfasts were round and empathetic as he nodded along with Jay. Here he was himself – as much of himself as he could be with the constant growl of the Beast in his ear.

“We need to get out of here.” He agreed.

“But what if—what if we need them?” A tentative voice asked.

It was a strange thing to feel – a need towards those who had harmed them. A double-edged sword. The experiments hadn’t stopped. The medicine hadn’t stopped. They were still being tested on despite their changes. But… this was all they knew. They’ve never went past the town, never breached past the tree-line. What if it was worse… alone?

Despite their hunger. Sunoo’s voice was fragile.

“We don’t need them,” Riki bit out, arms crossed. As the youngest, he was still the most volatile; Heeseung summed it up to teenage hormones.

There was a beat as a wave of calm settled over them like a cool mist from a forest, like the minty way your mouth felt after brushing them with toothpaste.

“Jay,” Jake whispered, half-scolding.

He knew it was him; Jake never felt so at peace nowadays, only when Jay manipulated the emotions of the room to his will. Jay flashed a bashful smile, red cheeked.

“We don’t need them,” Jungwon redirected the conversation, firmly.

“What could be worse?” Sunghoon bit out, eyes staring up at the moon. His head leaned against the window pane.

“Dying,” it was not said but thought. Each of the vampires could hear the voice of Heeseung echoing in the back of their minds like it was their own thought.

Riki shivered. “I hate when you do that,” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” Heeseung muttered. He didn’t know how to quite control it yet. His thoughts were like a stream connected to a river and that river to a larger ocean. Sometimes they flowed into others.

“Okay,” Jungwon huffed. Sunoo nuzzled into his arm sleepily. “Dying isn’t an option. We can’t.”

“We’ve been through all of this just to die?” Riki added, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight against the wall. “No way.”

“What if we are hungry…?” Sunoo asked.

When weren’t they? Even Jungwon struggled with his hunger, he had bitten his fair share of the remaining nurses. It was silent. What would they do?

“We can stock up before we leave,” Jay said, hand going through his hair as he tried to block out the ranging emotions around him. Excitement, nervousness, fear, anxiousness. It was making him sick to his stomach.

“And after?” Another asked.

“We’ll figure it out.” Sunghoon said, quietly. Optimistically. He raised a brow as he looked over the others. As the fledgling among them, the youngest in terms of whatever this curse was, he was most prone to outbursts for blood. If he could try, they could.

Heeseung looked at the room, once over. “We figure it out,” he agreed.

“Together.”

-

Their break-out wasn’t a simple thing planned in one night under a full moon. It took a month of planning. Of preparing. Stealing IV bags of blood when the nurse was busied – some of them causing problems, so they could grab more. They were hiding them in the glass fine china cabinet in the solarium; it had rested empty and covered by a white sheet for years now. No one checked there. When the cabinet was full, they began tucking the blood bags into pillows and mattresses they had gutted with the strange claws they realized they were starting to have. If they focused, they’d grow, thicken into incredibly sharp nails.

One night, Jungwon even hid some of the pills they were forced to swallow down – just in case – in a place no one would ever look. He was quick, grabbing all he could. Inhumanly fast, he looked this way and that – just waiting for the nurses to return. In his hurry, he grabbed other bottles strewn about that had unknown names - ferrous sulfate, calciferol, allium sativum, melatonin.

It was a cold November night when they planned to leave – but they didn’t know it; after all, experiments didn’t need to know the date, or the time, or the year.

They went off the moon. Each day a sliver of the moon grew and grew larger. It was supposed to be a full moon that night. Yet when the moon peeked around the tall trees outside Jungwon’s window, it was strange. Reddish, bright, bloody.

“It’s fate,” Sunghoon had whispered as they waited in the shadows of Jungwon’s bedroom.

A blood moon for the vampires.

With the doctor drugged, forced to drink down the mixture of pill Jungwon had found (Riki had dropped in his nightly tea like they were forced to down blood), they crept down the stairs.

It was quiet. The snores of the doctor echoed down the hall. Their feet dodged the creaking parts of the wooden floor. The vampires clung to belongings – tied up into makeshift sacks made of bedding. Thick winter coats covered their layers of clothes. Sunoo held his bear.

Heeseung’s voice rang out in their head.

“Sunghoon’s going to get the key.” It was whispered in their minds, almost as if he was afraid that he’d be heard even there.

It was in the doctor’s office.

They froze in the entry-way, the foyer feeling colder by the second despite their inability to feel the chill (really, even their layered clothes were just out of habit – weren’t they supposed to feel cold in winter?) Their breaths were low, dark eyes flickering between each other as they waited. Sunghoon wasn’t the quickest like Jungwon. But he had a sense to him, that was unlike any of them. Like warning bells were built into his head.

It was almost too easy. Until it wasn’t.

“Hey – what are you--?” the doctor cried out, shaken awake.

Were the pills a fluke? Riki’s eyes went wide, frightened at the sound. Sunoo grabbed onto Jay. There was the sound of fighting, grunts. A thunk against a wall.

Jungwon leaned forward, wanting to run to help but Heeseung’s hand reached out to stop him.

“I got it,” Sunghoon yelled out, the sound like a scream in the quiet silence.

He rushed out of the room; the wooden door slamming against the wall. A clambering of footsteps followed him.

“Get back here, you brat,” the doctor yelled.

Sunghoon felt more alive than ever. He ran fast. Riki stared down the doctor, shaking against the doorway. He wanted him to just stop, stop, stop. They had to get out of here.

To his surprise, the doctor did. He froze. Mid step, floating in the air. His sleep-hat caught in the air. Glasses askew. Not only did the doctor stop but so did his friends… no, his family. He glanced around. Jungwon was to his left, hand on the door knob, ready to unlock the door. Heeseung had grabbed Jake’s hand. Sunoo was curling towards Jay. Riki’s breath burned in his throat as he held onto it with all his might. He took a small nervous step… nothing else shifted. He was the only one to be able to step forward.

And he did. He walked over to Sunghoon. His hair was flopping mid-air, teeth bared, fangs sharp. His hand held the key tightly. With ease, Riki slipped it out of his blood-brother’s hand. Bounding over to the door, he turned the lock. There was a chill climbing up his spine, his breath electric in his lungs. Opening the door, he let out his held breath in a single gasp. With it, the world to come rushing to action. But there was no contest, no obstacle now. A door was open with the darkness outside pouring into the mansion.

The boys simple ran out the door, bewildered to how it was opened and unlocked. Sunghoon glanced at his hand for only a moment before ignoring the impossibility of the world and sprinting harder. He’d take the miracle. Maybe it was really fate. Fate for them to escape.

They broke past the tree-line, hooting and hollering as they continued to run and run and run. Away from the mansion and into their new lives.

The doctor huffed and puffed glaring out into the darkness, only made darker under the blood moon. Today’s experiment yielded a result – vampires were faster than a middle-aged man. He would find them one day. He would. The door of the mansion was shut behind a livid doctor with a heavy thud.

[lesbianrobin]

don’t mean to interrupt ur ask game but have u ever thought about lone star by tfb as an eddie song. bc i do sometimes and it makes me want to eat glass. okay ill ask three questions too as a tax but i wont do it on anon <3

1. do you have any tv shows you love that you don’t participate in the tumblr fandom for? (or maybe that don’t have a tumblr fandom?)

2. what did you vote on for your eddiebuddieblr playground poll and why? (forgive me if u said in the tags on the op i don’t think i looked ..)

3. do you have any fanfic icks? like even if the fic is sooo good you just have to close it out and cant read any more ?

okay i hope no one else sent any of these questions i tried to be creative

hello you are Always welcome to interrupt my ask game. i do indeed and i also would like to eat glass. he can literally imagine himself throwing all his clothes inside a suitcase without bothering to fold them. nothing feels alright now the length of his hair or the fit of his clothes. does he still believe in the lord above? god. what the fuck.

also thank u for the questions hehe u didn't have to but i appreciate it 🫶🏻

1. i have suddenly forgotten every tv show i've ever seen. DNCJSJX i watch a lot of docuseries which obviously don't tend to have fandoms. i Love mtv's the challenge and the fandom presence for it here on tumblr is basically just me and sarah @steveharrington plus some gay dudes that really want to fuck various contestants from the show. uhhhh there's also a lot of like sitcoms and such that i really enjoy but idk if they have any sort of fandom, things like veep, bbc ghosts, and psych! generally speaking though i'm bad at shutting the fuck up on here about whatever i'm watching jfcjdjx

2. i did NOT say on the post but i voted for the buck diaz is his government name monkey bars <3 i'm just such a buck diaz truther.

3. fic in general? excessive use of epithets like "the brunette" "the younger man" "the shorter of the two" please god people just use the characters' names. in 911 in particular i have So many. navy seal buck. "bucky." making eddie speak weird random spanish/use awkward spanish pet names.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

ok its me again hi AAAHHHH this is so nice i feel so warm im lying on my bed kickin my lil legs i cant believe this thank you for being nice omgggg now im on a roll im gonna say things about julian hkdhjgdgjf

only one song really that i scanned the whole tag looking for to see if anyone said it before and i was so surprised that i didnt find it and i went to check the official playlists on spotify cause maybe its on there already and thERE ISNT ONE WHAT???? i had the muriel one liked on here and id never checked any other ones out lmao but like i swear there had to be one?? like maybe they made it first and its somewhere separately??? julian is like the most popular one how the hell does he not get a spotify list is that how this tag was created?? *gasp* am i discovering the ~fandom lore~

(just gonna say you dont actually need to answer any of that in detail dont waste your time gksgkydgjf im just screaming into the void cause i was so flabbergasted after those 3 whole minutes of research i put into this)

ANYWAY the actual song would be House of Wolves by our lord and saviour MCR! its so good for him with his whole Woe is Me drama king vibe lol and the plaguey thematicssss mmmm delicious TELL ME im a BAD BAD BAD BAAD MAAAAN aight you lil masochist i see u and the "you better run like the devil cause they never gonna leave you alone" you get it caUSE HES A FUGITIVE DO YOU GET THE DEEP UNRAVELABLE METAPHORS DO YOU GET IT DO YOU G aight shut up hkhfjtdy anyway

ok i lied jystfhte heres another one i just remembered i really wanted to put here its not new but just in case somebody hasnt seen it yet lmao its such a masterpiece ill do anything to give it its due here ya go

https://youtu.be/61HltPN_k3g

and the other thing im really glad to have seen people mention here is musical songs cause thats one of the things i love about him the most like yass we love a thespian king slay grl so then anytime im binging a musical there always come the intrusive thoughts of "aw hed love this one" and "oh hed be great for this role" like i went to see f-ing swan lake with my f-ing grandpa and one of the major takeaways i got from the experience was (UH IM GONNA PUT A SPOILER WARNING HERE? I GUESS? IN CASE ANYONE CARES HELLO JULIAN BAD ENDING SPOILERS AHEAD DO MOVE ALONG NOW IF YOU DONT LIKE THAT AVERT YOUR GAZE CITIZENS LMAO LIKE YOU HAVENT SEEN FANARTS N ADS ALREADY ALRIGHT ALRIGHT) "omg jules would be so perfect as that bird guy villain IN HIS BIRD GUY SHAPE TOO OMG WITH THE WINGS ON STAGE THIS IS AWESOME WHY CANT I DRAW GOOD GODDA-"

anyway hed love hadestown (hed at least try to cast muriel as hades cause hes perfectly intimidating for it but theres way too many lines which okay Maybe but AND he has to sing???? nah hes out bkgdhkdt) i dont know what hed think of pierre natasha & the great comet cause its maybe a little eccentric i suppose but i think hed appreciate the cultural roots of the vibe with him being fantasy ruso-slav-ukrainian-whatnot heritage i reckon and hed definitely have a blast at a live performance and hed ABsolutely join in with the actors in between the rows at some point and theyd ABSOlutely let him cause hes that good and game recognize game cmon hes gonna show you amateurs what a real kazotski looks like

i can also see him enjoying sweeney todd, for its delightful edgyness, maybe even some themes relatable for him, and his sappy ass would SO memorise Pretty women to whip it out at an opportune serenading moment khgdturshc im so cringe and loving it

well i cant think of any more shows to throw him together with so thus ends my soliloquy wow i cant believe thats how you spell that anyway i hope anybody who knew what the hell im talking about enjoyed all that jgfztits see you in another 20 minutes when i come back like "AND ANOTHER thing-

Yay, it's the character song essays anon!! :D

I'm glad to see you back, and I will once again be re-linking the song you shared below and adding your suggestions to the tag ^.^

And frankly, I'm 76% certain that one of Julian's love languages is theatre, especially musical theatre. That could be tickets, that could memorizing the lines from one of this favorite scenes and reciting it back to him, it could be showing up to every single performance he's involved in :)

I'm glad to see you back in my inbox, friend, feel free to message me if you ever want to obsess over the characters together! Cheers -

brainrot

[landscaping-your-mind]

headinhands

im not ready for threshold guys! im not! im really not! ive just woken up! oh god, whyyy why must i? it's not fair, it's not fair that i have to do this god damnit.

I'm in shambles and we haven't even started yet.

it's fine. it is fine. alright. lets just. go for it.

hi @a-mag-a-day, threshold time! Mostly rambling, always great words, if I tag it with meta, that means it's GREAT words. You know the drill.

I think it's really cool that this is a continuation/related to a season 1 statement. It really shows how much Jon's changed throughout the years.

He’s just a lonely old man looking for attention and trying to manipulate me into moving back in with him, even though I’ve told him so many times that that’s just not going to happen.

I just feel bad for both of them, both Paul and Marcus. How Paul's actually experiencing this, but Marcus is so... distrustful, for a good reason, that he doesn't believe Paul. That if it just happened a little sooner together then they'd have been able to help each other, but instead all they were able to do was make things worse.

Parallels to Jon and Helen or am I reading too much into it?

And I don’t like being manipulated. I don’t like being lied to.

The Spiral and The Web are pretty similar, you know. What with the whole gaslighting thing of The Spiral, make you doubt yourself, but that's also like manipulation, you know? Can I just gesture to Helen and Jon's whole thing as The Spiral also being a bit of a manipulation fear, because like... yea.

When I was thirteen, it was underneath a railway bridge. It was huge and metal this time, with solid iron bolts sealing it shut and a thick chain stretched across it. The warning stickers had long since peeled off, and someone had scrawled in chalk: ‘Warning: Danger of death.’ As I passed, something heavy began to bang on the other side, sending the chain dancing. It pounded again and again, and I didn’t know if it was trying to force its way out, or politely knocking, hoping to be let in.

Aaaa! Spooky! This statement is, yeah, it's scary, and really cool. I just nhhnhrnnh 10/10! it's so snazzy! This episode as a whole, mate, it's just great.

I was trying so hard to walk carefully, to seem like I wasn’t drunk, that I almost didn’t notice it until it was too late.

My drama teacher says that to act drunk you need to act like you aren't drunk. Like, act like you're acting like you're not drunk. You get it? I've never needed to act like I'm drunk so... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

He just wants me to move back in with him, and I can’t. I just can’t. Sometimes, you just have to leave, even if what’s on the other side scares you.

A mic-drop ending again, yay! God, the way the statements end are always so cool, this is one of the most cool ones.

I never thought I’d miss those days, when I could throw out some half-baked speculation about drug abuse or mental illness and, woosh, away all the statements went.

I'm fine okay, it's fucking fine. It's so fine, I'm so fine, like so fucking fine, so much fineness in me. It's like! For Paul MacKensie, he can say that, he can say there's too much that doesn't add up, and that he wants to believe it but can't, he can fucking say that.

But he can't say that about this, he's mag 41 too deep. PODDED CAST!

AAA

But no, almost every one of those statements, those people … That poor old man. Like I can talk. Like I’m in any position to mourn the suffering of the innocent.

So, I was looking through old dms to find my reactions to threshold, and I found something, not on a first listen but here it is:

Last night I was thinking about Jon's line in threshold "Like I can talk. Like I'm in any position to mourn the suffering of the innocent," and literally crying. And thinking about how yk none of the avatars see themselves as undeserving of what they got, right, none of them. And I'm sad about that. It is not only the innocent that suffer. I have so many feelings about Mike Crew now you don't even know girls when girls when (gender neutral) they have a years long villain arc and at the end of it they can't recognize their former self This is about Jon and Mike Crew and Helen and Jude Perry and Hh

(messages to mapleejay (follow it) on the 28th December, 2022)

But there is one thing I know an awful lot better now than I did when I read his father’s statement. I know an awful lot more about doors.

FUCK DUDE YOU SURE DO!

I love him so much.

HELEN You rang? ARCHIVIST Marcus MacKenzie. Why didn’t you tell me? HELEN Is that name supposed to mean something to me? ARCHIVIST No, I suppose it wouldn’t, would it? Just an old man and his son for you to terrorise and feast on.

AAAAAAA JSWDAESDAFIJA THIS THIS ALRIGHT LIKE-

Okay, Jon's fucked up, he has fucked up, but he remembers their names, right? He remembers them. Jess Tirrell. Floyd Matharu. The others that we don't know the names of. Absolutely not proportional, Jon why the fuck did you do that, but like, hey, at least they're still people to him.

Also... "why didn't you tell me?" This implies they've been talking enough for Helen to have told him, which does make sense, actually. I have headcanons post-131. Well, post-132, when Jon's not throwing himself in a coffin, you know?

HELEN Ah, well, the son I was pursuing long before I was even Michael. And technically, I didn’t eat the old man. He passed away from terror before I even got a chance to open properly. ARCHIVIST And his son? Marcus? He was fine when I found his father’s statement two years ago, but now, suddenly, I can’t get through to him. HELEN No, I imagine not. I decided it was time to finish that game a few months ago. ARCHIVIST You… Why?

He sounds so bloody frantic, and just... oh my god just the way he's speaking, frantic and horrified, should he have known that this is what he'd get when he befriended monsters.

Aaaaa threshold <333

HELEN Not sure. I suppose Helen didn’t have quite the same attachment to him as a project. I’m not quite as much for decades-long campaigns of subtle terror these days. ARCHIVIST That’s horrible. HELEN Is it? We do what we need to do when it comes to feeding, don’t we? … Don’t we, Archivist? ARCHIVIST (Softly) Yes.

SCRATCHING AT THE WALLS HNNHHNRNHR

OH MY GODD I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAYYY IM JUST- AAAAAA SCREAMING CRYING SHAKING JON LIKE A CAT!

I had good words a while ago, again to @mapleejay

ME: To be fair the entire fandom's jon loosing their mind episodes are like the same (A Guest For Mr. Spider, Scrutiny, Can't even type scrutiny Uh the eye opens MAPLEEJAY: true ME: Feel like we as a society should be more obsessed with helen and jon MAPLEEJAY: relistening to the coming storm Again TRUEEE ME: And also whatever the hell eye contact was NO ONE TALKS ABOUT EITHER OF THEM AND HERE I AM ROTATING THEM IN MY BRAIN MAPLEEJAY: punching them beating them up /pos ME: Diversity loss! The distortion is a tory MAPLEEJAY: HAGAGDHQHD ME: But like also jokes aside oh my god them. Like hhhh - the new door where jon saw himself in helen and then helen IMMEDIATELY died - another twist where jon was about to die just like helen did and helen saved him (i actually never fucking saw- JUST LIKE HELEN DID [transcribers note: probably is drawing parallels between Jon almost dying to Michael, and Helen actually dying, and Helen being able to save Jon]) - taking stock where helen asks jon for help when SHE takes someone - threshold where JON goes to HELEN and HELEN (fuck why are they so similar) JON GOES TO HELEN BECAUSE SHE KILLED SOMEONE AND HELEN THROWS HIS VICTIMS BACK IN HIS FACE - a gravedigger's envy where theyRE BLOODY HHHHH WHY NO OK BECAUSE THE HELEN JON DAISY TRIO REFLECT OFF EACH OTHER AND I HATE THEM >:( - checking out WHICH IS IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE EPISODE WHERE MARTIN TALKS TO HIMSELF MIND AND IS LITERALLY THE MOST HONEST WE SEE HIM IN THE WHOLE SEASON LIKE NOT THAT HES LYING TO MARTIN BUT THAT HE'S NOT TRYING WITH HELEN *shaking them vigorously* fucking die

(10th January, 2023)

they. fuck them. god damnit, them <3

HELEN It would be better if you embraced it.

(MAG 146 - Threshold)

HELEN Oh Jon! This existence can be wonderful, if you just let it. ARCHIVIST (Sadly) I know.

(MAG 187 - Checking Out)

MARTIN Huh. She couldn’t help what she was, I guess. ARCHIVIST She didn’t even try.

(MAG 188 - Centre of Attention)

Jon and Helen ✨ feelings ✨

I have highlighted those specific lines together so much, like... they just fit. Throwing them at a wall.

ARCHIVIST Were you controlled? HELEN What a delightful thought. I don’t believe so, no, but the Spider’s strings are subtle, so I suppose it’s not impossible. Why? ARCHIVIST I want to know. Can The Web control another avatar, one that serves a different power? Make them do things they don’t want to. Make them find victims, feed. (Helen laughs.) HELEN Perhaps. Perhaps not. Would that make life easier for you? Are you so sure you didn’t want to? (Helen laughs again.)

[ID: CC!GoodTimesWithScar with his head in his hands. /End ID]

ARCHIVIST Been a while since you’ve all come to see me together. I assume it’s not good news.

It starts with him being all... sarcastic and stuff, and then he's like Oh Shit. Oh Fuck. Oh No.

ARCHIVIST And what exactly is on this t— Oh.

OH BOY! OH GOODIE!

oh boy...

oh boy...

BASIRA How many? ARCHIVIST Basira, I— BASIRA How many? ARCHIVIST Four. MELANIE Jesus. BASIRA Including the one on the boat? DAISY What one on the boat? ARCHIVIST Including Floyd, five. MELANIE Jesus.

Firstly, like great voice acting, all of them, all of them. Yeah... I'm not going to say the secondly :D

ARCHIVIST Jess Tirrell, the woman on the tape, she was the fourth. I’d just tried to… I was weak, ravenous. I didn’t feel… The first was a supermarket cleaner, ended up lost for a weak in an endless warehouse. I didn’t even… I just went in for some shopping and he was there and I just… asked. The second was… It was after I got stabbed by Melanie. MELANIE You are not putting this on me. ARCHIVIST No, that’s not what I meant. I was walking the streets; I thought I was trying to clear my head. DAISY But you were hunting. ARCHIVIST Apparently. And I found a woman who, every year on her birthday, wakes up in a fresh grave, just for her. DAISY And the third was after the coffin. ARCHIVIST A man rejected by all who knew him, searching ever darker places for love. When he told me his story, he started weeping maggots. BASIRA Enough. ARCHIVIST I hope so.

IM USUALLY PRETTY GOOD AT WORDING MY THOUGHTS OKAY JUST-

You know what, take a gander through annabelle--cane's tumblr, it has good words. I just sort of went through his tma tag for a while ajsjdjhfs.

BASIRA You’re a danger, Jon, a monster. You’re hurting innocent people. ARCHIVIST So did Daisy. BASIRA Shut up! It’s not the same thing at all!

Like, Basira what the fuck, she's just... she's all like oh wow daisy's better for resisting, meanwhile trying to get daisy to hunt again, enabling her when she did, making all these excuses for as to why daisy's actually better and what she did wasn't wrong and awful.

Yes, I get that that's the whole point of Daisy and Basira as characters.

BASIRA I’ll tell you all what I find. Don’t let him eat anyone’s brain while I’m gone. ARCHIVIST That’s not what I do.

HE SOUNDS LIKE HES SULKING, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

I don't have a conclusion. Shaking Jon and Helen I love them so much. I still need a jon and helen tag. Threshold (starts fucking crying)

[mudaxolotl]

alrighty I got metal gear solid 3: snake eater on the 3ds and im gonna be posting about my playthough here bc 

1. i really wanna document my experience because this is my first mgs game and first game with guns so it’s gonna be a fun mess

2. this blog is already like 80% vidya game so ya know...

it'll all be tagged “mgs” if ya wanna blacklist it

[cvtqr]

cammed

series master list

chapter one; touché, jaeger

content warning; public sex, cheating, wall sex, unprotected, cream pie, slight degradation 

the sun was setting as you walked out the front doors of your dormitory, closing them behind you. hearing your phone quietly ring, you pulled it out from the waistband of your skirt.

‘hello’

babe, are you guys almost here? games about to start and the other girls need historia

‘leaving now, hist just got here’

alright, if i can’t catch you before it starts we’re still on for dinner... right?

‘yeah of course. good luck reiner, win one for me.’

your life right now made you feel like you were in some cliche romcom. dating the college football superstar, best friends with the head cheerleader, all the cliches made you feel like you were still in high school. historia has been your best friend since birth, so of course the two of you hadn’t split up entering college. she had the cheer scholarship, you had the brains to get in with an application. you met reiner through mutual friends, but you couldn’t figure out why he fell for someone like you. usually, in the movies, the hot popular guy falls in love with the hot popular girl... but that wasn’t you, it was more like your best friend. you were more laid back, just wanting to get your degree.

your relationship with reiner was... slow, to say the least. it’s almost the end of your freshman year of college and he seems to be more focused on football than you. but you don’t blame him, he just wants to be successful with his passion. you do hate the fact that you have to take care of yourself all the time. he’s never able to stay the night, as he has training early in the morning. sometimes you wish that he could just be more available to you.

running out down the small path, you stopped in front of a car full of people. this was the way all friday nights were. you were picked up by a jammed pack car holding historia and a bunch of other people, before driving off to the football field. opening the car, it was really full tonight.

“you’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap, just for the ride” jean said with a grim smirk on his face

“hist you’re tiny, sit on ymir’s lap”

ymir of course not having a problem, pulled the small blonde into her lap with a grin on her face. you then hopped into the car, taking historia’s previous spot.

arriving at the field, historia had to run off to her team and get a lecture by the coach on why she has to stop being so late. after giving her a hug for good luck, you wandered off to the concession stands.

“just a pretzel, please”

receiving your snack, you were about to walk over to the bleachers until you heard your name being called over the short fence.

“Y/N!”

letting out a sigh, you ran over to the voice calling you over.

“quiet down, unnecessary attention.”

lifting his helmet off, he used his large hands to pull your head into his, capturing his lips with yours.

“and? ya look pretty tonight, what if i want people to see my gorgeous little girlfriend.”

“don’t you have a game to play, tough guy?”

talking to your boyfriend, you felt like someone was piercing into the back of your head. people were probably watching the two of you, but no... that wasn’t the feeling. it felt like one person had their eyes glued to you. saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you started to walk over to the bleachers. they were packed with people and you had no one to sit with. your eyes started to scan looking for either bertholdt or colt, two quiet boys you seemed to get along well with.

bertholdt was reiner’s best friend. you noticed him the first time you met everyone. he was always following reiner around like a lost puppy, but reiner seemed to love his presence. when you and reiner started dating, he left you guys alone most the time, but he’s still was always around. colt you also met through reiner, on campus. you really strengthened your friendship after visiting reiners hometown over mid-winter break. while you and reiner were babysitting his cousin, her best friend tagged along, who was the little brother of colt.

you were getting a little nervous until you heard someone call your name and wave you over. jean kirstein, from the car. jean pissed you off on so many levels, but he also made you feel safe in a way. running over to where he was, you took a seat in between him and his best friend.

“hey marco! kirstein.”

“ouch... you’re so cold sometimes, y/n”

jean always had to make a dramatic comment no matter what the situation was. settling into your seat, you stayed quiet for the most part after that. the game was close to being over when you got up from your spot.

“gonna use the bathroom, ill be right back.”

you didn’t actually have to pee, just needed a moment away from the screaming and loud noises. running towards the extra, empty parking lot. you felt someone grab your arm, dragging you into the darkness. about to scream, you felt a hand cover your mouth.

“shhh, its just me.”

wiggling out of his grip, you pushed him into the brick wall. he let out a chuckle, surprised you could shove him like that.

“you dipshit, i thought i was getting kidnapped.”

you felt rough hands pull you by the waist into his chest.

“yeah well anyone would want to get their hands on a pretty girl like you, i’ve warned you about wandering at night by yourself... haven’t i?”

“touché, jaeger”

his slender fingers found their way up your thighs and under your skirt, teasing the hem of your panties.

“not here jaeger, i have to get back to-”

“back to the boyfriend, yeah.” - he didn't stop though, he snuck his hand down to make contact with your clit, rubbing small, soft circles around it. “remember our agreement though? if you want, i can break it... show everyone your-”

“fine. make it quick.”

“you don't make the rules here, ill take as much time as i need.”

eren jaeger was popular around campus, not in the same way as reiner though. he wasn't some big shot blonde football player, just well known for being a jackass. his reputation started in the beginning of the year. he was a pretty low-key guy, just down to fuck almost anyone who asked. but then he'd just break their hearts, but girls always still tried getting him to fall for them.

he released your skirt and pushed you back up against the wall. as you both switched positions, you could see the faint red in his eyes, pulled out by the street light.

his lips found yours, roughly shoving his tongue into your mouth. once he felt that was enough, he flipped you over on the wall. to avoid scraping your face or getting your shirt dirty, you pushed your hands up onto the wall. you heard the familiar unbuckle of eren’s belt, and the shuffling of him trying to free his erect cock.

brining his hand in front of your mouth, he cupped it a bit. knowing what he wanted you to do, you spit right into it twice. he then brought his hand back and lathered his cock with your saliva. pulling the bottom of your skirt up to your waist, he pushed your panties to the side before slowly sliding himself into you. 

not bothering to care about the stinging you might've been feeling, he brought himself back out before slamming right back in. repeating and repeating, going at a roughly fast pace.

“‘ren sl-... slow down.”

“shut up, whore. you should... fuck- should know your place by now.”

letting out a whimper, you felt your fingertips push so hard into the wall, bound to leave a scratch. you then had them peeled off the concrete wall, as eren pulled both of you backwards. pulling out, he spun you around and pushed you back up onto the wall. 

he brought your thigh up to meet his hip, before thrusting himself back into you.

“your little pussy takes me so fuckin’ well”

clenching around him from his words, you let your head fall down onto his shoulder.

“want me to fill you u-”

he was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. brining your head up, you went to go pull your phone out and hit decline... but eren beat you to it. he took your phone and hit accept, holding it up to your ear.

babe?

‘r-reiner!’

nice win, right?

‘y-yeah you were... you were amazing as always’

cuz i was thinkin’ of you. anyways i'm heading to the locker room, you with bert?

you felt yourself start to panic at the heat of the moment. you were on the phone with your boyfriend as you were getting pounded by the biggest dick on campus. he was ruthless. not bothering to slow down or stop, he just thrusted in harder and faster than before.

‘no actually-’ you were about to let out a moan but you covered it up with a cough ‘just i-in... the bath- the bathroom’

you okay?

‘yeah i’m... fine, 'm fine. ill see you in a few’

alright, love you

‘i love, love you too.’

right when you hung up you choked out a load moan that's been building up. without warning, eren came and shot right up inside you. of course he wouldn't make you cum at a scene like this.

pulling out, he pushed the seeping cum back up with his fingers, before pulling your panties back in place and fixing your skirt. 

“now go hangout with your boyfriend while your full of my cum.”

“eren-”

he turned you around back out of the darkness and playfully smacked your ass before giving your back a little push.

“i promise i’ll make it up to you, now run along like a good girl.”

giving him a frown, you made your way to the exit of the locker room. you stood there waiting for reiner, clenching your thighs together. 

dinner with reiner was sweeter than usual. most times after a game you were dragged to a loud diner with all his friends, forced to hangout with them. but tonight, reiner just wanted it to be you and him. nothing special though, just a quick food joint. walking back to your dorm, you felt the guilt build up in your chest like it always did. 

arriving at the front door of your single-person dorm, reiner pulled you into a soft, sweet kiss.

“practice is canceled tomorrow, i can stay for once.”

of course, the one night you're stuffed to the brim with another man’s cum.

opening the door, you let him in. the two of you laid kissing on the bed, before he tried sneaking his hand up your skirt.

you felt yourself start to internally freak out. if he were to finger you right now, he'd just be met with a load of cum. 

“i-im on my period.”

reiner was always understanding, so of course he was in this position.

“ok, that's fine. we can just cuddle and watch a movie.”

“sounds good” after placing a kiss on his cheek, you got up to go put a pair of sweats on, before returning back to your bed.

he must've been worn out from the game, as he almost immediately fell asleep in your arms. you couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking about eren. do you wish it was him laying in your arms right now? no. reiner is everything you could ever ask for. you knew he deserved the world, you don't want to hurt him like you are  now. 

but you knew what would happen if you didn't give eren what he wanted.

and that'd be even worse.

[weepinglevi]

jean kirstein as your 1920s servant

summary: 1920s!jean as a servant (footman) and his adventures (he also has adventures with the earl's daughter) warnings: nsfw in the end, and also somehow a bit angsty? don't ask me how that made it's way in. overuse of the word "milady" (i can't even say i'm sorry about this) word count: around 950 A/N: i've been watching downton abbey again. this is a mess and i don't even know if you can call this headcanons or a drabble or an imagine - let's just say it's a bit of everything. i will probably come back to this idea, too. not proofread so if you find any glaring mistakes don't be afraid to point them out! i hope you enjoy reading this just as much as i enjoyed writing it! feedback is greatly appreciated and take care. xx

first of all, he'd look absolutely fine in his livery. the striped waistcoat and coat tails making him seem even taller than he already is, the proud stance whenever he serves breakfast makes you think he’s waiting on the king and queen – not some earl and countess.

fine as heck in his normal clothes, too. a snug fitted corduroy suit with flap pockets being one of his most prized possessions, it’s not even second-hand. he tries to look put together but there’s always some part of his shirt not properly tucked in and his hair sticks out in weird ways at the end of the day – all the pomade in the world can’t help him, though he tries.

he gets in trouble with the butler more often than not. flirting with the kitchen maids even though he should be upstairs, waiting on the lords and ladies, has gotten him smacked over the head more than once. it’s one of the reasons as to why he simply can’t climb up the servant’s ladder – he just likes to have his fun sometimes, ya know? loves hearing the girls giggle at his compliments, too.

on his days off, he’ll take one of them to the pictures. pay for her ticket and let her have a fun time, be a full-on gentleman and bring them back to the estate just in time. he’d never take it any further than that, though. he doesn’t want to get them into actual trouble and with the eyes of the housekeeper lurking around every corner, he’ll settle for a small peck on the cheeks. they squeal anyways, hurrying off to the servant’s quarters to tell their friends all about the evening.

he knows how to drive, too. he’s not good at it, though, and is only allowed to drive if there’s absolutely no other option. whenever her ladyship hears the chauffeur fell ill, she’ll always opt out of driving and take the carriage instead. jean’s just too hot-headed to work his way around the engine and he’s embarrassed to admit but; he’s had a slip of his tongue more than once in front of the lords and ladies because of his rage.

in the evenings, he plays snap with the other footmen and hallboys – always causing a ruckus in the servant’s hall which has him getting in trouble yet again. at this point the others wonder as to why he hasn’t been kicked out like a dog, the butler seems to be on his last nerves with him. they don’t know about his little secret, though – you.

he made eyes on you the first lunch he served on you and your family, practically gawking. thankfully nobody but you noticed, and you made sure to keep it that way. if your father only as much as suspected someone making advances on one of his daughters, that someone would be out of work in a matter of seconds. and you couldn’t have that.

you knew of the trouble the two of you could get yourself into but this didn’t deter you from your plan to have him. maybe it was your rebellious side finally acting up, wanting to break free from the heavy confines of your life – but mostly it was because of the way jean carried himself through the corridors of your home; as if he wasn’t a servant. as if he was head of the house.

you called him jean instead of the formal “kirstein” the first time you spoke to him in private, having him blush and shift on his feet. he didn’t know how to handle himself around you at first, but you knew your way around his defenses – how to make him know that it’d be alright if you and him were to come closer.

it’s been a year since you first shared a hurried kiss in the drawing room and after that you needn’t ask him twice to join you late at night in your bedroom.

he’s cockier now, slipping through your door and getting rid of his suit on the way to your bed – both of you know there isn’t much time until dawn breaks and the other servants would wake up to get the fires started. he had to be gone by then.

pulling the heavy drapes of your four-poster bed shut behind him, he’s already pushing up your nightgown, causing your skin to grow warm under his touch.

this is how you got here, having him breathe “milady” against the crook of your neck as he’s buried deep inside of you, never daring to call you by your first name; no matter how many times you asked him to.

you know he’s had many other women but you couldn’t care less, pulling him in even closer until he is flush against you, trying to drink in his recklessness – his freedom and his pride.

coming undone under him, he is soon to follow, rutting against you desperately. “milady, milady, milady,” an answer to your whispered “jean.”

having him rest on your chest like this, air heavy with his and your scent, you try to imagine a world where the two of you could live a life out in the open. playing with his hair, you make a face as he starts to move away from you.

“stay.”

“you know it’s not possible,” being the only thing that leaves his lips as he opens the drapes again, soft light of the candles illuminating his features as he gets dressed and sends a glance over his shoulder, “goodnight, milady.”

“goodnight, kirstein.”

his expression turns sour at the sound of his last name out of your mouth, but he nods and leaves through your door without another word.

taglist: @deludedimagines @aotwrites @peachysimp @blondeboyfriend @odmlevis @bellasw4an @jeageristbaby @starrynightlys (i hope u are ok with me tagging you, claire ahah) wanna be tagged in my next work? fill out this form. addendum: i know this thing is impossible to happen - an earl's daughter frolicking around with a footman for over a year without being caught or even falling pregnant but PLEASE. footman jean. that's all i need.

[chris-evanslover]

SNL

OFC Aria Samsen is a writer for Saturday Night Live in New York City. She works with all the hosts on their sketches, including this weeks guest, Timothée Chalamet. What will happen when she accidentally mixes business with pleasure?

Shit! I’m gonna be late if I stop for coffee, but, if I don’t stop for coffee I won’t be productive. Talk about a slippery slope. I quickly duck into the coffee shop by the subway station I need to take to get to work and order a large iced coffee, Monday’s are usually rough. I thank the barista and rush to catch the A train to work. 

Speaking of work, my job is definitely an interesting one. I am a writer for SNL and it’s been such a dream these past couple of years. I’m 25 and starting to really take off in terms of my writing, I’ve been offered the position to become a part-time cast member multiple times on the show but I don’t think my anxiety would agree with that. I arrive to work a little late with my iced coffee (even though it’s the middle of December) and I make a beeline for my office, which I share with Pete Davidson, who happens to be one of my closest friends. Pete and I are complete opposites if that gives you any context on me.

 “You’re late” Pete laughed as I walked in. 

“Yeah yeah I’m aware, what are you working on?”

 “I’ve had this jets fan club idea for a while and I’ve been waiting for the right host”

 “I didn’t get a chance to check the schedule before leaving Saturday night, who’s the host this week?” 

“Seriously Aria? It’s Timothée Chalamet, he’s actually a friend of mine” 

“Oh sweet, I like his movies”

 “Thank you!” I heard an unfamiliar voice from behind me coming from the doorway. I glare at Pete who’s trying not to laugh, and turn around to face the owner of this voice. Timothée stands there with a smile on his face and reaches his hand out to me, “Timothée, nice to meet you-?”

“Aria” I fumble around placing my coffee, phone and keys down and shake his hand.“Nice to meet you too” Timothée let’s go of my hand and I feel Pete slip past me to dab up (or whatever guys do idfk) Tim. 

“It’s been a minute man how are you?” Pete asked him. “I’ve been great dude, I’m excited to host although I am pretty nervous” “Don’t be, you’ll do great” I smiled at him. Why did I say that, he clearly isn’t having a conversation with me. Great he’s going to think I’m weird now and not want to talk to me or work with me and this whole week is going to be horri-“Thank you Aria” he smiled and locked eyes with me, I felt my cheeks getting hot and averted my gaze to my stuff on Pete’s desk, picking up my drink before taking a sip, stepping back towards my desk.

“I gotta go talk to Colin Jost and Michael Che..can you guys point me in the right direction?” Tim asked. Pete looked at me and smirked saying “Yeah Aria can show you I’m in the middle of a pitch” Tim looked at me and said “Sounds great, lead the way”. I put all my stuff down before sneaking a glare Pete’s way, he knew how nervous I got around guys I didn’t know and he was using me as a pawn in his own enjoyment game. I’m gonna kill him for this.

“Follow me” I said, Timothée started walking next to me. “So, you’re a writer a presume?” I laughed a little bit. “Yeah I write some of the stuff for weekend update and some other sketches as well” “That’s so cool, I’ve been watching the show since I can remember, you should be really proud” “I am, thank you, that’s sweet” he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“So you and Pete? Are you guys close friends or dating or-?” If I was drinking something at the moment, I’m positive I would’ve choked on it. Did he just ask if I’m dating Pete? Why would he want to know that?

“No, no! Just close friends is all, Pete’s like an older brother to me” Tim smiled at this and let out a laugh. “That’s nice, Pete’s a great guy” I stopped in front of Colin and Michael’s office and turned to him. “Yeah he’s alright I guess, anyway here’s there office, I’m sure you’re gonna be busy all day but you’re probably slotted to sit with Pete and I at some point during the week so I’ll see you around”. How I managed to get all of that out without stuttering terribly over my words is well beyond me.

I went to walk away when I felt Timothée grab my upper left arm, I turned towards him with what I presume looked like a look of confusion on my face, “Thank you for walking me, I hope I see you around sooner rather than later” he smiled and walked into the office, leaving me to contemplate what he just said. 

As I walked back to my office, I couldn’t help but think about him. Sure, I’ve met celebrities but there was something completely disarming about his charisma. He was down to earth, I could just tell. I opened the door to find Pete sitting at his desk, smiling bright at me when he saw I walked in. 

“You spent 5 minutes with Timmy and you already have a crush on him”

I rolled my eyes “I do not have a crush on him, shut up Pete”

“If you don’t yet, I bet you will by the end of the week” What the hell does that mean? I’ll have a crush on him by the end of the week? Well it looks like that trains boarding as we speak, not long till it leaves the station. I couldn’t help myself but go sit at my desk and Google him. 

Timothée Chalamet

Born: December 27, 1995 (25 Years Old) New York City, NY

Height: 5’11

Parents: Nicole Flender, Marc Chalamet

Siblings: Pauline Chalamet

Education: LaGuardia Arts High School, Columbia University, MORE…

Upcoming Films: DUNE (2021), The French Dispatch (2021), MORE…

“I dO nOt HaVe A cRuSh On HiM” Pete imitated me (horrible imitation, by the way). I jumped out my seat, not even noticing he was behind me, looking over my shoulder at my computer. My head fell into my hands as I let out a loud groan of frustration as Pete made his way back to his desk laughing.

“You’ll thank me when I make this happen.”

“Shut up Pete.”

A/N: I decided to go ahead with this multi-part series, not sure how many parts I'm gonna make it but I definitely want to try for 3 or 4, maybe 5, depending on how many ideas I can come up with. Sorry this was a little short but I’m happy to be back to writing, I took a break for a while and It feels great to be back! Ill be adding a Timmy section to my taglist on the google docs at the top of my master list if anyones interested. Im gonna stop rambling, I appreciate feedback or ideas for the rest of the series :) 

Tagging these who responded to my original post about doing this series but I won’t tag you next time if you don’t want me to! @elarasstardust​

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

our newborn child has been really ill for a couple weeks and you’ve been really worried. luckily, we took them to the doctors and everything’s fine. yet despite it being nearly a week since we went to the doctors, you’ve slept beside the crib every night.- with kuchel shes the youngest and imagine levi and the rest of the ackerbabies sleeping with her cause they're worried

LOOK. THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A DRABBLE ALRIGHT? BUT I GOT REALLY CARRIED AWAY AND UHM.... Imma break loads of hearts with this....don't tell me I didn't warn you.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Warnings: mentions of death

Tags: a n g s t, pure angst, everyone's suffering, Wanna get in the mood I was while writing? Listen to this

A matress for five

For the first time in a long while, Levi's eyes stung feverously with exhaustion and insomnia. It was a silent beg, the first sign of his body giving in to the fatigue of taking care of four children but for all he knew, given the situation things would have to be worse before they got better.

His feet couldn't hold himself up in that late hour; not that even dared to move to check on the clock on the nightstand, his perception of time was more of an assumption. He had spend endless nights wide awake, clinging onto Kuchel's crib for dear life, interwinning her little hand with his, as his sorrows would bathe him in cold sweat.

The small hand that faintly clung onto his intex finger and wouldn't let loose of the steady grip sent earth shattering rashes of pain inside his heart as his eyes batted to its owner. His very own, crucially small and excessively faint daughter, that desperately needed him to simply survive. His eyes batted as he took in her small form for the upteenth time this evening. He loathed to be in that place again, to watch another beloved Kuchel in his life suffer with illness.

He had brought it to himself, he figured. By agreeing that she looked like him enough to be honored to share a name with his mother. Yet, after the recent events of having watched her suffer with whatever was that had gotten her down, he kept on wondering if luck was playing games with him for chosing his ill-fated mother's name. Was it really that much of a coincidence that he had to be stripped off another Kuchel, in a much similar situation?

And how on earth was he supposed to deal with another death brought onto his own little family.

The image of you leaving your last breath while you begged for him to protect your children was a fresh addition of the annihilating pain of grief that clung into his chest as if it was it's safe place. His eyes couldn't help batting erratically to prevent new waves of tears from running cold on his temples as he mentally clung onto the fondest memories of yours. He knew, with the way things were now, he shouldn't allow himself to be weak. There were four children that were completely depended on him, in despairate need to be helped, fed and be stood by for.

He had figured that by allowing himself to be egoistic with his grief he would only manage to repeat Kenny's behavior towards him. Naturally, no decent parent figure would ever chose to treat their children in such way and he didn't wish upon his own babies to feel most of the overwhelming emotions of abandonment he had felt before.

Had you still been here though, no one would have to be forced to deal with your loss in the first place. And as for Kuchel, she wouldn't have to fall sick and fight for her survival since day one.

He still could recall days where you would have fun with your sons, still very pregnant, resting assured that you'd always protect everyone in your own way.

In his memories, you held him tight, arm lingering on his as he cooked a healthy meal for your sons, rubbing one hand over your belly and begging him not to get you pregnant for a long time. Your boys, curious as ever would ask a trillion questions concerning your baby bum to which Kurt would jump to answer before you, taking the role of the experienced older brother, making you giggle at his quick wits and smart mouth.

You would simply bat your eyes in awe and pride as you'd look at him go and take responsibility for his brother at such a young age and in turn, Kurt would promise you he'd always take care of Kuchel as well. Then you would look at Levi, orbs glistering with with plastered happiness only to mouth a silent i love you to him.

The sudden forced halt to your everyday affections was probably what hurt him the most.

In his head, he imagined, you laid beside him as he placed Kuchel to sleep on his chest, smiling at the tenderly profound affection. You hand would graze the surface of his stomach, sliding across the baby's tiny body, only for your fingers to rest on his chin, so tenderly and faintly that he could barely feel them. Your expression would be serene, hues glimmering golden as they'd mirror the warm tingerine flicker of the candlelight.

He would spare you a smile, the most effortessly sincere one he could put on and he'd watch as your eyes would widen. When you'd realise the nature of his expression you would crash your lips against his, noses bumping feverishly into eachother as you'd try to freeze the smile on his face, afraid that it would disappear never to be seen again.

And to that, you would have probably been right. He wasn't going to smile again, not without you at least. Your departure from his life had ripped his heart like an old rotten rag and there was no way for him to manage to pick the pieces of his heart and stitch them back together. He had done it one too many times, just to push forward with being a soldier.

With a heart that was broken one too many times, he should have felt numb when he was ripped off another beloved person.

But he couldn't say the same would ever apply to his children.

As he laid there, staring at Kuchel's chest falling and rising with each little breath she took, he felt like the world threatened to rip him way from his younglings as well. His heart ached at the thought that they would ever have to share a fate with him.

The looks on their confused faces on the day of Kuchel's birth still crushed him. Little by little, day by day, he'd watch as everyone would fall into melancholy from your sudden departure. Kuchel was the first one to suffer from your loss, perhaps, even more fundamentally in comparison to the others.

It had been weeks since Kuchel had fallen ill.

Levi had strained himself physically and mentally trying to figure out what was going on, how could he help or how could he ever even feed her. All the previous experience he had with his sons was nothing compared to not being able to feed his daughter property; what he had suspected of being a mild case of colics, as often as it was on infants, had turned out to be a painful experience for every member in the house just as much as it had been for the newborn girl.

The doctor he had consulted with a little more than a week ago had assured him what Kuchel was going through was normal for children that were forced to receive substitute for their mother's milk. Perhaps, he had suggested, if Levi could find a wet nurse for her she wouldn't have to go through such horrific colics and suffer.

He was only shaken from his thoughts at the creaking sound of the heavy door to your once shared bedroom opening slightly. His eyes immediately fell on the source of sound, only to be welcomed by a small flashing of the dark corridor. With all willpower to move strained from his body though, he couldn't yet manage to utter a single word.

"Kurt, will Kuchel die?"

"Can we go see her?"

The tiny, barely audible voices grazed Levi's eardrums softly, always tenderly allowing him to process the spoken words that left his children's mouths. His nose twitched as anxiety rushed through him, causing him to slightly raise a hand to scratch it in an attempt to shake it's newfound numbness away. The thought of having to force himself to get up from Kuchel's bedside even for a mere moment drowned him in worry and despair.

"No, stupid, she won't die dad's taking care of her. And no, see they're asleep." Kurt whispered as a response, looking at his two brothers after his hand shot on the door to prevent them from opening it further.

Despite the door creaking ever more in response to them pressing their weight on it, the three boys ignored the sound as if it fell deaf to their ears. John and Tony batted their eyes in Kurt's hand, struggling to fit their heads in the slight opening to peek inside the room.

"Mommy wee come and hep her." John tried to whisper, mustering out his best composed words. Kurt threw the younger boy a dangerous glare as the words fell of his mouth, ready to scold him for speaking his nonsense so loud.

"Mom's not coming back," Tony managed to speak, confused as ever, before Kurt ever had a chance to open his mouth. "I think."

Kurt sighed, a loud, angered scoff of air escaping his small nostrils. "Mom's dead, we're never seeing her again. Get it brats?" His grip on the door tightened as he spoke, his feet that had been pushing forward to stop himself from bursting, finally giving in to the pain on the fresh wound in his little chest.

"Kuwt is mean!"John mumbled with a tied tongue "Towy, awe we going to see Kuchel again?"

"In the morning, John!"

"I wan to sweep next to dad!"

"Shut your shitty mouths! Dad is sleeping and we'll wake him and Kuchel up!"

On the other side of the door, Levi laid on the bed in a haze, listening carefully to his children lashing out on their inner thoughts to each other. Originally, he would simply ignore the late night stomping of curiosity his sons were engaged in but an itch to his chest prompted him to get up, to open the door and welcome them into the room.

Hange had spoken to him about the significance of bonding time between him and his children now that they had to come to terms with the significant deat of a parental figure; each one of them them was in a crucial stage of their development, meaning they wouldn't take their mother's death in easily, or even similarly. The psychosynthesis of each child was fragile in its own way and right now Hange's theories were turning out to be correct.

Before he knew it he had walked the distance to the door, opening it slowly to let the three children in."Oi, what have I told you about being vulgar?"

The three siblings froze, chubby cheeks puffing at the sides of their puckered lips as they averted their eyes away from their father's gaze in shame. Kurt took a step forward making sure to force his gray eyes to stare into his father's identical ones, only to speak up the words that were threatening to spill from the tip of his tongue as his heartbeat went through the roof.

"I'm sorry dad!"

Levi's hand automatically shot to the boys direction only to come and ruffle tenderly through his dark chocolate locks. His expression softened and his heart sped up at the slight change of demeanor coming from the boy; Kurt immediately wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling him closer to his smaller body. He melted under the touch. It seemed like his sorrows couldn't bear to get worse at the presence of his children.

In less that a second, Tony and John had nuzzled their way to his legs, in turn, hugging him absurdly tight close to them. Hums and soft giggles escaped them as they cheered for the acceptance of their affections. Almost as if they commanded him to, Levi squatted down, allowing them to wrap their arms around his neck and torso. His own hands came to engulf them in the warmth of his chest, pressing their little heads against it.

"John said he wants to sleep with you! I will watch over Kuchel!" Kurt spoke with the most stern tone he could muster, only to deem himself serious enough for his father to take him seriously.

"Hey I don't want to sleep alone!" Tony exhaled.

Levi couldn't help but let out a huff of amusement through his nose. "How about you all hop onto the bed with me?" He questioned, orbs darting around to all three the pairs of eyes that stared back at him "That way no one has to sleep alone!"

Normally, he knew they would cheer in excitement when you'd allow them to sleep in between you, but the heartbreaking contrast to their current reaction served as another reminder that things were never going to be the same.

Their heads were darting down, eyes burning holes at the floor beneath them as they reluctantly agreed to follow him into the room. He could tell John simply mimicked his brothers' reactions by a mere glance at him. The mellow indicator of his anxiety was served in the form of his teeny fingers mingling with the trims of his sleeves. A silent yawn escaped him, causing his chest to swell and fall in tiredness as he refused to rub any sleep away from his eyes. Noticing it, Levi knew he couldn't waste any more time, he quickly ordered them to secure their grips onto him before he picked them up, entering the bedroom once again.

With curiosity written in their faces, once they were securely set onto the matress, the boys silently crawled to the direction of Kuchel's crib, probing themselves at the edge of the wooden railing. Soon enough, Levi joined them; his hands gripped the railing as he rested his head against them, purposely mimicking his sons.

"Dad, will Kuchel die?" Kurt questioned with dark eyes probing in the direction of the newborn baby. The gulp that went down his throat didn't escape Levi's gaze.

"No, she just has stomach aches from the milk she's been drinking."

With skeptically forrowed brows Tony puckered his lips to the side of his cheek as he proceeded his father's words. "So she will stop drinking milk?"

"Not quite," Levi clicked his tongue "We'll find someone to feed her."

"Mommy wee feed her!"

A heavy sigh escaped Levi's lips as John spoke with enthusiasm. His inability to comprehend death was only natural, Levi reminded himself, but that didn't make it any easier for him to cope up with. It would months even years before Levi could explain to him the concept of death in a way that he could understand and come to terms with. For now, he had to settle with his his heartstrings pulling at him as he spoke the familiar indicators to remind John you were no more of "Mommy can't come back to feed her, so we are going to find a wet nurse."

"What's that?" Tony inquired.

"She is someone who will provide milk for Kuchel like I'm providing food for you."

"Oh!" Tony brought a finger at the side of lip as the profound realisation hit him "Like a new mommy? But why does Kuchel get to have a new mommy, doesn't she like our mommy?"

Levi wasn't given a chance to speak his mind, to educate them on the subject of death once again. Their voices were overlapping each others in a panicked state. It wasn't an uncommon thing for them to do in stressful situations; crying in sync as they stuck with each other as a lunatic team when they cried was something he had grown used to in the past few years. He knew how to handle them, but frankly, in this very moment he mentally couldn't.

"D-did Kuchel kill mommy?"

"Can babies kill?"

"Will Kuchel kill us as well? Daddy don't let Kuchel kill you!"

"Kuchel loved mommy" Levi cleared his throat, finally putting an halt to the synchronized silly assumptions that were being spoken "It's not her fault she had complications in birth."

"Then I don't want to give birth either!" A small cry escaped the group of siblings, causing Levi to bring a palm to his forehead. Sometimes, he wished he could explain things to them as you could, because how the hell was he supposed to explain to Tony that he couldn't physically give birth to someone, at this late hour in the night with his head throbbing in worry for the sickling in the crib.

"You really don't have to worry about that!" He spoke, voice flickering in the air as anxiety rushed through him for the upteenth time. "We should sleep, alright?"

The boys reluctantly bobbed their heads up and down in silently nods of agreement to their father's words. Almost in synch, they detached their hands from the crib's railing only to turn around on their knees to sprawl themselves into the vastness of the double sized bed they had always adorned.

Carefully, Levi laid on his side with his head facing Kuchel's crib, just like a few minutes ago. His hand darted inside the crib, his finger wiggling its way to Kuchel's little palm for her to grab onto. As welcoming as ever, the little palm wrapped around his index finger before a flickered breath exited his daughter's small body. Once he had secured that she wasn't going to be awaken by his actions, with his other hand, Levi plopped himself on his back and motioned to the boys to lay around him in the bed.

First John came to rest under his armpit, shifting himself to his liking onto his father's chest, that much until his ebony hair tickled Levi's chin. Levi recognised it as his perfect comfort sleeping position, the one he'd always go for when he'd sleep in your shared bed.

From that point on it only took seconds for the boy to fall asleep to his father's chest falling up and down as he breathed in a steady manner. Tony had managed to nuzzle his way next to John, fast asleep as well as he cuddled up to both his brother and his father.

"You should sleep bratty." Levi shot to Kurt's direction's as he watched him plop himself on his stomach, his head coming to rest above his hands on Levi's hipbone. Although Levi was unsure if Kurt's face seemed to lit up for a fragment of a second at the beloved petname that escaped his lips, he rested positive that he could at least convince the sever year old to give in to sleep.

"No thanks dad" He yawned "I'll watch over Kuchel! You sleep"

"Kuchel is asleep as well, why don't you come lay on my right side and close your eyes."

Kurt seemed puzzled as he examined the choices he was given. The primary instinct to step in father's shoes in order to protect his sister seemed to slowly give in to his need for some well deserved sleep. It would soon take over him completely, he figured as he stared back at his father, so he opted to comply to his father's prompt for sleep.

Besides, having the chance to sleep tight like a baby on his father's chest like his brothers was as important to his childish antics.

Thus, with a shift in his movements he found himself carefully positioned on the right side of his father's body, nose nuzzling just on the underside of Levi's muscled ribs. The question he wanted to shoot at his father remained at the tip of his tongue as sleep mellowy engulfed him.

Levi's stinging eyes felt heavy as his boys cooed peacefully in his embrace. Maybe, just for tonight, he could let himself rest in the presence of his spawns because unbeknownst to them, they had managed to temporarily put his mind and grief at ease.

Maybe just for tonight, he could let you visit him in his sleep and make things perfect again even for as long as a dream lasted. And maybe when he'd wake up Kuchel would be perfectly fine again and his sons wouldn't be drowning in melancholy and confusion and maybe he wouldn't have to spend the rest of his days wishing your bed could hold six sleeping bodies instead of five.

Tags: @levisbrat25 @alrightberries (that's also a special birthday gift to you I'm sorry it's so sad don't kill me 💀👉🏻👈🏻) @ladyofpandemonium @nobody-knows-anymore @miss-consulting-timelord

[thebountyfucker]

The Two Princes - Royal AU

NSFW - 18+ ONLY

Embo x F!Reader x Cad Bane

Tags: sex party, public sex, double penetration, threesome, blowjob, handjob, overstimulation, maybe ooc but this is an AU so I don't care lol

CW: mentions of drugs, prostitution, power imbalance (the reader is a hired attendant, and both Embo and Cad are princes. Reader is not a part of either of their domains, so they have no control over her. However, I did want to include it just in case)

Here's a link to my masterpost and to the application for my taglist!

“So explain to me again what is going on?”

“There’s nothing else to say.” Your boss replied as he sorted through his collection of datapads, his fingers flicking through the stack until he found the right one. He pulled it out and thrust it in your direction. “Ya gotta sign it.”

“Sign… what?” You took the datapad into your hands and powered it on. A file appeared, one that was rather lengthy and full of legal words that you couldn’t, for the life of you, understand. You parsed through the paragraphs of Aurebesh, before pausing and glancing up. “Is this an NDA?”

“Yep.” Your boss was quick to reply, turning his stout body from you to search around his office for something else. You uneasily returned your attention to the swirling legalese, and faltered. Your boss noticed your hesitancy, and sighed. “I can tell you this - it’s the royal folk. One of them is planning some shindig, and needs you and the girls to help take care of them.”

“Is it… safe?”

“You tell me. You know them royal folk better than I do.”

You wouldn’t exactly say you knew them; one one-night stand with Prince Cad hardly seemed to count, in your opinion. Though, if this party was hosted by a royal, there was a good chance that you’d get to see him again. He’d protect you if things went wrong, right? You stared down at the datapad, and your boss huffed impatiently.

“Look, sign it or don’t. I need to know who to staff now. They aren’t the patient type.”

“Alright, alright.” You scribbled your signature down on the line and your boss snatched the datapad from your hand. He tossed it aside and waddled around from the other side of the desk, gesturing with two fingers for you to follow him.

“You and the others will caravan to The Veil, where you’ll meet the employer. Remember, none of what happens tonight can be talked about, or we’ll be sued to shit. You understand?” You nodded again at this, the uneasy sensation rising in your stomach once more. Your boss glanced over his shoulder at you, and scoffed. “They ain’t gonna eat you! Relax!”

“Easy for you, perhaps.” You muttered under your breath as you both slipped into the meeting room. About fifteen young women - your coworkers - were waiting in the room. Most seemed just as confused as you were.

“The employer has everything you’ll need. Don’t let them talk you into doing anything that isn’t in your job description, okay? You’re attendants, not whores.” Your boss drawled as he crossed his arms over his chest. The last line, specifically, caught your attention. You’re attendants, not whores. What about this job warranted that comment? He had to know more than he was letting on, and this bothered you. You supposed he, likely, had to sign a similar NDA, but at the same time, you hated going into jobs blind. Things were more likely to go wrong this way… and the royals weren’t the type you wanted to disappoint. “Get your asses moving. He’s waiting on you.”

-

The Veil was unlike anything you had ever seen before - it was a meeting hall affiliated with Azvergin Hotel - a high-end joint for billionaires and royals alike. This meeting hall was just as high-class, with high ceilings and sculpted arches and hand-carved crown moulding. Columns lined the grand hall, holding the heavy mosaic ceilings from toppling to the floor. Famous artwork was displayed along the walls. You were so caught in how awe-inspiring this hall was, you hardly noticed the room was empty. There were no tables or chairs to be seen - something you expected for a function fit for royalty.

“This way.” The grounds-keeper spoke, pulling your attention from the details of the room; it was then that you finally noticed how quiet everything was. You turned towards the groundskeeper, watching as they turned down a long hallway. You jogged after them, your coworkers following closely behind.

“Where is everything?” You asked, and the groundskeeper glanced over their shoulder at you.

“Downstairs.”

“Right…”

They turned to the left and knocked on a door; a small peephole opened, and someone from within called out.

“Who are these ladies?”

“Attendants.” The groundskeeper explained. “The prince sent for them.”

The peephole closed, and the door opened instead. The guard gestured for you to enter, which you did; you slowly descended down the flight of stairs, noting that the lighting had dimmed and that low, sultry music was playing over hidden speakers. You turned to look at your girls, the pieces of this puzzle slowly forming in your head; it wasn’t until the door opened that things finally started making sense.

The room was much smaller than the grand hall above, without the frills and displays of wealth. It was hard to tell what colors the walls and floors were, given how dark the room was compared to the hall above. Plush chairs, chaises, and even beds were dotted around the room. Men and women were already wandering around, dressed in lingerie or kink apparel. They glanced at you and your party, but didn’t say anything.

Against the wall closest to the entrance of the room was a table covered in sex toys, condoms, lube, and little flags of various colors.

You understood the NDA now; this was not your typical job. No… this was a sex party. You had been hired, by one of the royals, to attend to them while they’re likely doing dope and fucking the brains out of prostitutes. Great. This would be fun.

A door to the left of the room opened up, and out stepped Prince Embo, the tall, broad chested Kyuzan prince. He wore a loosely tied satin robe, which exposed his defined chest; tattooed across his exposed skin were dark green, blocky symbols. You could make out the facsimile of a sun printed along his collarbone, though no other shapes made sense to you. Your gaze trailed down his chest and abdomen, before noting the loose tie which held his robe shut. You wondered if he was wearing anything underneath it…

Embo cleared his throat, and you startled, your gaze ripped from the knot of his closure. Your gaze flicked up to his face, before you remember that he was royalty and some royals found eye contact with subordinates to be threatening; you briefly met his gaze, noting the amusement in his face, before you cast your gaze to the floor.

“What is this?” He inquired, looking you all over; he waded through the crowd, looking over each and every one of you personally. His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, sending shivers straight down your spine. “My attendants, yes? Come. I have uniforms for you.”

You tentatively followed him into the room he had just exited from. He started rifling through a box, paying no mind as the sixteen of you gathered around you.

“What will be our role here tonight, your majesty?”

“Attendants. As is your job title.” He answered bluntly as he pulled out enough uniforms and set them aside. “You do not have to do what you are not trained for. Just offer drinks and take care of my guests.”

“I… well… okay.” You nodded as you grabbed one of the dresses - they were short, but not too revealing. Guests would definitely be able to tell the difference between you and the entertainment, even in the dim light. You held it up to you, noting that the prince was watching you. His gaze held interest, but no ill intent; you weren’t sure why, but your stomach somersaulted and your heart skipped a beat.

“Is that a problem, miss?”

“No, your majesty.” You replied, and he stood to his full height, towering over you in a way not many others could. This, embarrassingly, sent spikes of pleasure to your cunt. If he was this tall, you knew he had a huge cock to match.

“Good. My guests shall be arriving any time now. Do not keep us waiting too long.”

He ducked out of the room, giving you ample room and privacy to change. You slipped out of your work uniform and pulled on the given dress; it was red in color, and made of silk. It clung to your body, accentuating your curves; there was something about this dress that made you feel so pretty. Most other uniforms you were given were unflattering at best and purposely ugly at the best. You appreciated the prince’s good tastes.

The others gossiped about the situation you all were in as you pulled on your shoes. You weren’t much for gossip usually, but you understood how odd this situation was.

“So the rumors of the Prince are true!”

“Who knew that a royal could have such a ravenous appetite!”

“Of course he would! Those types always get what they want.”

You chuckled as your mind wandered to your night with Cad. They weren’t entirely wrong; royals were just as fickle and just as horny as everyone else. But you couldn’t imagine Cad throwing such a party. Hell, you couldn’t even imagine him attending such a circus! Prince Embo surely was something else...

You made sure your shoes were on tightly, and slipped out the door. You wanted to get a feel for the place before the chaos began. You took note of the supplies on the table near the door, and of the bar you had somehow missed. So far, there was nothing illegal, but you weren’t certain it would stay that way.

The main floor was still only populated by prostitutes at this point, despite the Prince’s warning that guests would soon be arriving. Some were fixing their hair or make-up, and some were chatting it up with anyone around. Missing, however, was the Prince. You tried to find his towering frame in the crowd, but that was easier said than done.

A hand slid across your back to your shoulders, and you jumped in surprise. You turned, noting Prince Embo staring back at you. You lowered your gaze respectfully, and he responded by wheeling you around to face him, and gripping your chin in his free hand.

“I think I would like for you to be my personal attendant tonight.” He purred, tipping your head back so he could look at you better. His glowing gold eyes searched your soul, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in response. “Pretty thing. It is too bad you are not one of my entertainers tonight.”

His presence was engulfing, and your heart skipped a beat. His thumb brushed over your lips, and you had to stop yourself from parting your lips and accepting it into your mouth. Mindlessly, you edged closer, and the hand on your shoulder slid downward….

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A familiar voice drawled and you winced; of all the people that could have walked through the door at this time, it had to be Cad. The only royal who actively had a past with you, and the one you figured wouldn’t dare be seen at such a function. You turned away from Embo’s grasp, glancing over at an amused Cad. “Didn’t expect t’ see ya here.”

“I only hire the best.” Embo explained, sauntering over to his chair, which overlooked the rest of the room.

“Yeah. De best.” Cad smirked. There was no malice in his tone; rather, you figured this was his attempt at teasing. “Dat’s de one dat spilled wine all over yer mother’s dress."

Blood rushed to your face, and you were thankful that the lights are so dim; you had just barely forgotten about that whole mess, and now Cad had to bring it back up - to the Queen’s own son, nonetheless! You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Your self-pitying was cut short by a loud laugh from Embo; at first, you were glad that he wasn’t upset by this information. But then, you realized that he was likely laughing at you. Your mood soured, and you crossed your arms over your chest in a pout.

“So that was you? Oh, my mother raved about you for days after that.” Embo leaned back on his little throne, spreading out like he owned the place. Maybe he did.

“I… what?” You dropped your arms, confused.

“You gave her an excuse to change out of that gods-awful dress my father bought her. She wanted to hire you to ruin whatever gifts he gave her, but we had to talk her out of it.”

“Shouldn’t have.” Cad chuckled. “It would be the best job she’d ever have in her miserable little peasant life.”

“Hey now.” You frowned. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Cad waved you off as he drew closer. “You wouldn’t happen t’ be available tonight?”

“She is an attendant, Cad. And mine for the night.”

“Figures. You always bag de good ones.” Cad shook his head as he stood; he looked you up and down with a licentious smirk. “I’ll see you ‘round, den.”

“Of course.”

You watched Cad retreat to settle in a nearby chair. One of the prostitutes - a handsome man - approached, sitting on the arm of the chair. Well… at least Cad was there in case things got out of hand.

Embo called to you, and you turned toward him; he gestured with his two fingers, watching with an intensity as you approached. You bowed your head when you reached the foot of his chair, and he tsked.

“None of that.” He told you. “There is no need for pleasantries here. Now… fetch me a drink.”

-

You had never been around so much sex in your entire life. Everywhere you turned, there was someone giving someone else head, or someone riding someone else’s dick. The room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, of gagging, of slicked up cunts… and the moans… oh the moans!

You edged around one of the beds -where a princess was getting gangbanged by a group of various alien men- carrying the tray of goodies to your prince. Embo was leaned back in his chair, looking surprisingly bored even as two ladies fondled his cock. You leaned down to hand him his drink, which he accepted with a grunt.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this, my Prince.”

He just shrugged nonchalantly as he sipped at his drink. “I am not feeling particularly inspired.”

With a wave of the hand, he dismissed the two ladies, and closed his robe up. You set your tray down and knelt before him. He carded a hand through your hair, muttering something in his mother tongue. “Is there anything I can do to make this a better experience?”

He glanced over at you, his gaze lazily trailing down your form; something - which you figured was lust- sparked in his golden eyes, but he was not quick to act on his feelings. He gestured with his free hand, and you offered him some sort of smokable, which you figured was not smart given his need for a breathing mask. He lit it and slumped back in his chair.

“No. Stay your course, kamour.”

“Are you sure, my Prince? I… am offering to help you. You hired me to help, right?” You inquired, reaching out to touch his hand. He glanced over at you, and you wondered how much convincing it would take him before he realized you were serious. Not much, it turned out.

“I am no monster. Say the word and I will let you go.”

“Of course.” You settled between his parted legs, your soft hands slowly sliding up his naked thighs. What was it your boss said? Oh, that you were attendants and not whores. Well, what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Your hands swept under his satin robe, parting it open to reveal his large cock. You wrapped your hand around the base of it, and slowly worked your way up his length. He was already hard from the ministrations of the prostitutes, the head of his cock flushed a deep and needy green. You leaned forward, gathering spit in your mouth before drooling it out onto his cock; you locked gazes with him as you spread your saliva down and around his shaft.

“Now, dat ain’t fair.” Cad’s voice startled you from your task, and you turned to spy him sitting on the arm of an unused chair. He was completely naked, with his arms crossed over his chest. “You said she was an attendant.”

“I did not lie. She is attending.” Embo put his mask back into place, and ran his hand through your hair. “She is doing her duty.”

“Yeah, well, I want in on dis.”

“That is up to her.”

You hardly even had to think - you reached for Cad, wrapping your hand around his slick, hard cock. You gave him a pump, and Cad hissed through gritted teeth in response. You gestured for him to move closer, and he did; the princes met gazes but said nothing to each other as you reached the other hand out to stroke Embo’s cock.

You stroked them both at the same time, reveling in the hisses and grunts trickling from their mouths. The way their cocks pulsed in your hands was enough to make your pussy tingle, and arousal slowly built within you. There was something depraved about this - about a lowly attendant pleasuring two powerful princes in the midst of a sex party - but the depravity only added to your pleasure. You could hardly stop yourself from grinding your needy cunt against the heel of your own foot.

“Enough of dis pussy-footin’. Are ya gonna suck me off or what?” Cad drawled, as impatient as ever; you quirked a brow as you leaned forward to give him a long, wet lick. He growled in response, his hands threading in your hair. “Come on, doll… don’t be teasin’ me now.”

“You forget that you weren’t the first man I was pleasing.” You replied, your voice wavering. You weren’t sure it was a good idea to talk back to him, especially in this position. Though, you supposed, you held the power when you held his cock. Any wayward comment and you were in a prime position to bite him. You figured he wouldn’t risk it.

Cad scoffed and you leaned away to wrap your lips around the head of Embo’s cock. He chuckled and leaned back.

“She is not lying.”

“You shut up.” Cad muttered as he pressed a hand to the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to guide you. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

It went like this for a while - you’d take one into your mouth, bobbing and sucking like a good little whore, before pulling away to take the other one. You felt oddly powerful knowing you had the ability to bring these two princes to their knees with only a touch. You reveled in this power for as long as you could before Embo lifted you up and sat you on his lap. He pulled you close to his chest, purring.

“I am going in you.” He told you, giving you ample time to back out of it. When you didn’t protest, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing, and turned you to face Cad. He guided you onto his cock, and you winced as the head slipped into your drooling cunt. You hadn’t realized that he was quite this large. He gripped your hips, controlling how slowly you eased down onto him so you didn’t hurt yourself.

Cad waited until you were ready before offering his cock to your mouth once more. You parted your lips, your eyes half-lidded and darkened with lust, and he chuckled.

“Are ya cock-dumb already, doll?” He reached out to tangle his hand in your hair. “Are our cocks just dat good?”

You nodded in response to this, greedily latching around his cock and sucking hard. He let out a hiss and tugged at your hair, spurning you to start bobbing up and down his length. At the same time, you had fully engulfed Embo, sheathing his cock deep within you. Your whine was lost amongst the sloppy slurps of Cad’s cock easing in and out of your wet mouth.

Embo slowly, gingerly, eased in and out of you, taking care not to hurt you in the process. Every time he pulled his cock half out of you, you took Cad’s cock to the hilt with a gag. Every time Embo bottomed out within you, you pulled away to breathe. It was tough to find the right rhythm at first, but when you did, the pleasure was all-encompassing. Your head was spinning, arousal burning deep within the well of your stomach; your eyes rolled back and your hands went to your breasts, squeezing so tightly you were sure they’d bruise.

“Think she could take us both in there?” Cad asked, and your mind wandered at the prospect. You imagined the sensation of their cocks filling up your cunt, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The idea was fascinating, and a bit frightening. You didn’t realize that you were drooling around Cad’s cock until your spit splattered on your thigh.

Embo leaned you back against his chest, a finger probing at your cock-stuffed pussy. He slipped it inside, and your eyes went wide; Cad’s cock slipped from your mouth as the air vacated your lungs. You quivered against Embo, a pathetic little whimper escaping your lips.

“No… not unless you intend to split her in half.”

“Shame.” Cad shook his head; he pondered for a minute, before tipping your chin up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

As if you had other plans. Embo rested his head against you shoulder, purring softly. “I would like to see your pretty face, kamour.”

“Alright.” You turned around, facing the prince; you couldn’t tell for sure, but you guessed he was smiling behind that mask of his. His large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warmth.

“Beautiful.” He slowly rocked his hips up into you again, and you whimpered. “A beautiful, sex drunk whore. You like my cock, hm?”

“Yes.” You breathed, matching his thrusts by rolling your hips; his finger slipped out of your cunt, and instead stroked your swollen, trembling clit. A fire built in your stomach, and your vision went blurry. Your orgasm was within reach! You gasped out his name, your voice strained yet velveteen. Embo’s eyes brightened at this, and he reached up to wrap a steady hand around your neck.

“Say it again. Say my name again.” He commanded, his voice husky with his own desire. You whimpered.

“Embo….”

“Again!” He rubbed at your clit faster, slamming up into you with a ferocity you had never felt before. You could hardly find the strength within you, but you couldn’t displease him.

“Embo!” You cried out, your entire body quivering as the fire of orgasm consumed you. Your head danced in the clouds as your body went limp and useless against him. He held you close, his hands dancing over your form.

“Shit, did I miss out on all de fun?”

You lifted your head and glanced over your shoulder to spy Cad with his hands on his hips. You shook your head, your tongue weighing like lead in your mouth. You gestured for him to draw closer, which he did, and you gave his now condom-clad cock a stroke.

“I do think she can take more.” Embo hummed, his hand rubbing at your thigh. You nodded in agreement at this, and Cad leaned down to nip at your neck.

“Good. Do you still want to take de both of us?”

“Yes!” You chirped, and Cad chuckled.

“So eager.” Cad maneuvered you into Embo’s chest, giving him better access to your ass. Cad lubed you up with a bottle he had grabbed from somewhere, and gently eased into you. A strangled cry escaped from somewhere within you as Cad brushed against the thin, sensitive wall separating his cock from Embo’s. You could hardly keep yourself upright, the sensations quickly overwhelming you; Embo had to keep you from falling completely limp onto his chest.

“Easy now. This is not too much for you, is it?”

You shook your head at this. “N-no.”

“‘Course it ain’t.” Cad yanked on your hair, pulling your head back enough so you could look him in the eyes. He smirked, and then sheathed himself within you. You let out a cry, and his smirk deepened into a depraved smile. “Yer a good lil’ doll. You can handle us.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined in agreement as they both slowly rocked into you. Every inch of you was set ablaze as they took turns massaging that oh-so-sensitive wall. Cad released your hair, his hand instead sliding down to roll your nipple between two of his fingers. His other hand gripped at your hip, keeping you steady. Embo’s hand returned to your clit, pinching and rolling the overstimulated bud around until you were panting and pleading for release. Your admissions only made them hasten their paces, and soon, they were both slamming into you. Your head lolled back on your useless neck, resting squarely on Cad’s chest; your legs quivered and jerked as you chased after your second orgasm. Hands wandered, acquainting themselves with every aspect of your body; this only added fuel to the fire which threatened to consume you once more.

With only a few more thrusts, you came undone. Your vision went white as you rode waves of pure bliss, only faintly aware of how erratic their paces had become. It wasn’t until Cad lurched forward and bit you that you were pulled from your euphoria.

His fangs pierced your skin, surely drawing blood; his orgasm, contained by the condom, manifested in quick, jerky motions up into you. Slowly, he eased out of you, lapping up any blood that had trickled from the wound.

Embo found his pleasure not long after that, shooting his cum deep within you; the searing heat of his seed was unexpected, but wasn’t unpleasant. You were almost certain that if he hadn’t been wearing his mask, he probably would have bit you too. He, unlike Cad, didn’t ease out of you. He let you decide what it was you wanted to do, even if it meant keeping his soft cock in you until he hardened up again. You did, however, ease off of him to sit on his lap.

“Dat was good, doll. I might need t’ keep ya around.”

“Yes, well, you may have competition.” He leaned toward you, humming. “Though, I suppose it would be your choice.”

“Who says I have to choose?” You managed, your voice sultry. They cast glances at each other, and Cad shrugged.

“‘Spose that could work.”

Taglist!: @sat-nam-saint @that-clone-wars-girl

You leaned back into the warm chest of one of your Princes. Huh. You liked the sound of that. Who would have thought that someone like you could pull two Princes!

-

[relaxxattack]

(i dont care to do c! tags bc theres. so many characters. if i dont say cc! then im talking abt the characters) normally i am not one to think much about the syndicate bc outside of ranboo being there to protect tubbo the syndicate Frustrates me a bit but. if phil starts to realize just how fucked over tubbo got by schlatt being erased from the narrative (and especially how shittily techno has treated tubbo) then i really hope they lean into like. the fact that the syndicate may soon turn into phil, niki, ranboo, and possibly the mystery member (im including mystery member mostly because i think tubbo is on good terms with almost everyone except like. dream, possibly wilbur but we'll see, and like the eggpire ppl but none of them are likely options but it is possible that the mystery member could just be neutral) all like. wanting tubbo to be safe and phil is *just* reasonable enough that i think he'd realize how unfair it is for tubbo to have been subjected to so much shit just for techno to introduce even more fear and the need to hide in his life

like phil already keeps the bee duo marriage and michael a secret, he lets tubbo come over and while of course its mostly from the semi lore vibes phil seems vaguely fond of tubbo already (i dont think phil and tubbo have father/son vibes tho, more just like. tubbo is just That Kid that adults cant help but adore even though the kid will rob them of house and home. slightly amused elder watching a tiny fucking gremlin make sex jokes and talk about soviet russia), niki from what i remember still cares about tubbo (probably because she cant redirect any anger towards him without realizing how unjustified it would be kcnsks she can come up with excuses for hating tommy but tubbo didnt do anything that niki has a problem with outside of her maybe having a bad view on butcher army if she knows about it?), ranboo is. ranboo. i dont need to clarify. and then like said theres a very low possibility of the fifth member *disliking* tubbo or being unable to sympathize with him.

people talk a lot about how techno needs to lose in a way that he cant easily come back from without introspection and i think while the rest of the syndicate standing up for tubbo would increase technos grudge against tubbo initially its also like. something that i think would maybe force techno to see tubbo as a person because now theres nothing techno can box (haha gettit. tubbox tubbo in a box tubbo getting boxed into certain roles by people who refuse to let him out techno esp doin this teehoo) tubbo into that wouldnt just. acknowledge that tubbo is a person. hes not apart of the government anymore, not planning any failed revolution, the most negative title to his name is being one of the nuke makers but even then thats out of fear and safety and techno knows that. otherwise tubbos current crimes are nothing thats special to tubbo (like. stealing and searching for evidence in ppls homes and stuff, the latter of which techno doesnr even know about). right now tubbos a husband, a father, a friend, a kid, *ex*-government, a person. and just.

i think that with how much foreshadowing about tubbos execution no longer being a secret amongst the witnesses and tubbo himself and soon being something that people close to techno like phil and ranboo know about as well (in that i want phil to learn that techno did it and for ranboo to learn about it in general bc hes just biased enough for tubbo and just smart enough that i think even if somehow he wasnt told who did it he could figure it out), and with the fact that tubbos lore has been confirmed to now be something thats actively going to be played into? i think (or at least hope) that it might spur phil and techno into finally seeing tubbos side of the story (and probably also get into the possibility of tubbo opening up to tommy and ranboo but i do think realistically either tubbo will try to play it off/not truly open up about how much its effected him or tubbo will at first shut down or go into complete repression mode, especially if phil and ranboo get the story from other people rather than tubbo himself [but god do i hope they confront tubbo himself]. either those two or tubbo talks about his emotions through fucking snapping at something/someone like he did at quackity when reminded of his execution, which as long as its Not tommy or ranboo ill absolutely be cheering on him for)

which is all a very convoluted way of saying uhh. *grabby paws at the ccs currently involved in the arc of clearing up personal misconceptions about l'manberg (and especially tubbos involvement and how easily those around him judged him based off of their versions of the story)* tubbo lore? tubbo healing tubbo talking about his problems? characters learning to see him as a person and recognizing how traumatized he is and that hes not uneffected but actively repressing any effects? please? (also ending note as the cherry on top of this essay that im sorry for dropping into your inbox: im kind of glad that tommys healing arc and tubbos possible healing arc are going to happen at similar times but are still separate. something something its nice to see acknowledgement that tommy and tubbo wont heal in the same way and arent going to know how to help each other but theyre still going through it together. their arcs are intertwining without removing their individuality and as someone w major co-dependency issues its kind of nice idk. you can be there for someone and still acknowledge that you have your own things to go through too and that while you wont be alone you shouldnt force those around you to support you. the bench trio are all helping each other out of free will and genuine love for each other while still realizing they have some problems they arent ready to talk about yet that arent forced to the open because theyre all doing their best to handle each other with care and i just. bench trio my beloveds. the kids are alright.) -🎭🎪 (also as the actual end note if theres ever a need to refer to me as something other than the emojis mask or eyez works fine but the idea of my name being the emojis is also Very Funny to me so do what you will)

im working on my aperture camera college assignment rn and my brain is sort of fried so i dont have an intelligent answer, but i got the happy chemical reading this.

yeah. i think we all know here that my favorite character is tubbo, and i REALLY hope we get him addressing anything that’s happened to him in canon. pretty much all of what you said sounds very good. *grabby hands* spare tubbo lore? please? spare tubbo lore?

perhaps during the three weeks wilburs off in the fucking woods (/lh) we could have a the-others-find-out-what-happened-to-tubbo-(and in DETAIL)-arc. pleaseeeeeeeee and ty

[jjfics]

Room 19 ll 02

ship: Harry Potter x female!Reader

read part one here

summary: they finally meet the mysterious wizards after getting to know each other better that same morning

author: your bestie Jane Jack, also known as JJ

word count: 1760 (it is a bit shorter this time)

a/n: i am so so so happy some of you liked the first part so i will continue with this story. i wasnt on call this time so no news from my bff, sorry, ill ask them for a cool quote for next time though!

“Thank you, darling. We’ll take the seats in the corner. Could you bring us two coffees and,” Potter turned to look at you and raised his eyebrows “one croissant?” You nodded shyly.

“That would be 13£, but I’ll only charge you 10, the croissant is on me,” the woman taking your order smiled. “Since you have such a pretty girlfriend” she winked.

Your cheeks flushed red as Potter pulled your waist impossibly closer to him. “I know, right?” he chuckles.

The walk to the cafe was silent, but it felt different than the trip you two had the other day. There was no need to talk. In fact, you felt as though the moment you would open your mouth you would say something stupid about what happened last night, like apologizing for taking up so much space or doing something so unprofessional. But you did not want to apologize, because you had never felt less sorry for something. There was this weird energy between the two of you. You craved the feeling of being close to him again.

The table Potter chose was very strategic. The predictable head of the group of wizards and witches who called themselves the Forsakens would choose the grandiose table in the middle of the cafe. So the corner was a shadowed place where you would not have been recognized while you could very easily observe the others.

Still, benefits are tied to come with cons and so you were forced to cuddle into each other once again on a small leather couch. His hand did not leave your waist even as you sat down. It was hard not to notice such details, like how he could not keep eye contact for long when you spoke, how your hands brushed together when you both leaned over the table to take a sip of your hot coffee. You blamed it all on the weird situation you were in. In any other circumstances, he would not have been behaving like this, for sure.

“Hey, Potter. Could I ask you something?”

“You know you don’t have to call me Potter, right?” he smiled.

“We are work colleagues,” you said, but you wished you didn’t. Because you knew very well that saying things out loud only makes them more real.

“Yeah, but I don’t call you y/ln. I never heard you say you don’t like it when I call you y/n.” You did like it, it made you feel welcomed whenever talking to him, which until this morning was very rare. But you were not going to tell him that and feed his ego even more.

“It’s acceptable, but mind you, you are on thin ice,” you pointed a finger at him and his hand shifted softly on your waist as he laughed.

“It would be acceptable for you to call me Harry too, you know? I mean, we are supposed to be dating after all. For the mission.”

“For the mission” you agreed

“So you will call me Harry?”

“I will,” you promised. The gesture of reassurance alone made his head float.

While waiting for the Forsakens to appear you found out a lot about Harry. Many things surprised you. The papers always lie to make everything more attractive to their readers, but they also leave out the small details. Like how Harry still has panic attacks, even long after the war. How he always has nightmares about all the people he cared about.

“I feel sorry knowing this now,” you tried to empathize but it wasn’t going that well. You had never been part of war before.

“You don’t have to be. Not today, at least. I had quite a pleasant dream last night.”

“Oh, did you? And what was it about then?”

"Someone hugged me. I think it was a woman; I’m not sure. I didn’t get to see her face.”

“Is that all you remember?” you persisted. It broke your heart to know that this was his idea of a good dream: nothing extraordinary, but the most mundane form of comfort.

“Yeah, that’s all. What I know is that she was there in the beginning. It felt like she always had been” his eyes were distant as he talked. “She left me, and I was once again alone.”

And it was then that it all made sense to you. He was nice to you now because there were no nightmares to haunt him through the day.

You turned to face him and got really close to his face. “I’m so sorry. For being so shitty with you the other day,” you whispered. “It was just the stress from work.”

“I know.” he smiled. “It’s alright. I let myself get carried away too. We need to cooperate for the mission.”

“So does that mean that our little argument and Ben Nelson stepping in will not be included in the letter to the Minister for Magic?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Oh I totally am not telling Hermione any of that.” he laughed. “No, that will stay between us.”

It was around 11 am that you spotted some oddly dressed people enter the already busy cafe. In the lead was a tall woman who wore black heels and a long red satin dress with robes of a darker shade draped over her shoulders. Her face was covered by a long curtain of dark curly hair.

Just behind her were two other women, both slightly shorter. Those were dressed in the same way the first one was; the colors were the only thing that varied: their fair skin was adored by greens and purples.

The two men following them were both dressed in black suits that would not make them attract much attention if it weren’t for their companions.

The dark-skinned woman who was so obviously the one making decisions pointed to the big table in the middle of the cafe and her followers seated themselves. No words were spoken as she left them and entered a door the waitress once had.

“These must be them. They fit the description perfectly,” you mumbled and Harry nodded beside you.

“The head’s name is Anika. She has connections to the waitress as her mom’s sister. Anika is muggle-born. She never told her aunt that she’s a witch but she and her gang are allowed to gather here sometimes.” Harry said in a monotone voice. What a good professor he would have been.

“I read the instructions, Harry” you rolled your eyes at him. He smiled when he heard his name come from your lips.

“‘M just making sure, y/n.”

Anika returned quite quickly and she sat down on the side with the men, facing the other women. She took out a leather notebook from her robes and put it in the middle of the table.

“Does anyone know why it’s still here?” you could faintly hear her cold voice. Everyone else around her shook their heads.

“Heajin and I did our part.” the woman dressed in purple said defensively.

“So did Aaron and I,” one of the men on Anika’s right said more calmly, almost like he was trying to prove a point.

“I don���t care about what any of you did,” she looked them one by one in the eye. “I don’t want to hear you brag about how hard the task was for you, Aaron and Heajin. You two have always found everything challenging. I would normally be more forgiving, congratulate you even. But I can’t as long as this piece of absolute rubbish hasn’t dissolved.” Anika pointed to the notebook. “Understood?” she hit the table with her palm. The others did not flinch.

All of them nodded angrily, got up, and left the cafe in a rush. But it seemed as though their boss was not done talking yet. She scoffed, annoyed at the others’ behaviors, and vanished through the door after them.

Whatever you were expecting to happen today, was not this. The short discussion you had just overheard from your corner only brought more confusion. You had expected them to be a group of foolish wizards who want to rebel. But you had never expected them to be talking about real tasks. Rethinking everything now, you came to the conclusion that the situation was serious if Hermione Granger-Weasley sent her best two Aurors (and those had been her words) on a mission personally. She considered Ron one of the best too of course, but she would never risk his life if she could help.

It would make no sense for you to follow them. They would be back here the next day. Harry took out his wallet and put 15 pounds next to his cup on the table. He intertwined your fingers with his and got up as well. “Let’s go, love,” he said loudly enough, announcing that you were leaving now too.

Harry didn’t bother to look back at the cafe but you turned your head last second to see if anyone had a weird reaction to what had just happened. And you saw it sitting there. The small leather notebook was left in the middle of the table. No one seemed to take notice of the piece of rubbish being left behind. You squeezed Harry’s hand and he stopped just as he wanted to open the door and leave. You dragged him over to the table to make it less obvious.

“Look, babe, I told you there was a stain on the tablecloth on this one,” you said sweeping your hand over it and clenched your hand around the notebook. “It’s better that we sat over there.” Harry squeezed the hand that was still in his. He got your message.

You were panting hard as you threw the hotel door open. It was quite the work-out you got from running back here. Harry was behind you, locking it right back shut. You ran to the window and pushed it hard. Your whistle could be heard for miles probably. There was no time left to worry over your owl’s whereabouts as she was there in less than a minute.

She landed on your shoulder and bit your ear softly. “Good girl, Idiv.” you petted her grey head.

“y/n.” he shouted your name. “y/n, come here please!”

“What?” you turned around.

“We need to let Hermione know everything. As soon as possible. Get a quill ready.” he rushed you.

“Shouldn’t we read the notebook first?”

“Oh sure we will but we better start writing already and send Idiv on her way to the Ministry.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. tag list!

@ur-riddikulus @anyqueen008 @fuckingalohomora-bitch

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Rabbit. Chapter Two Part Two

Draco x Hufflepuff reader

Tags; @khemz1312 @trashyvicks @dracoslittlesunflower @dracmalf0y-dm @rosiehufflepuff @goofygobber @shinsouscatpisssmell

W!Heavy Ptsd, mental freak outs. Hearing voices, blood, bruises, cuts. Draco trying to convince himself he’s fine. Refusing to ask for help. Mental instability. The voices are the Dementors

After two years in Azkaban for how he treated you he was finally free. The only thing keeping him going was you. Now finally reunited with his Rabbit he thinks things will go easier for him. But Draco is struggling mentally and refusing to ask for help, but his only hope might be the person he despises the most

Draco did not return to the bedroom, he ran his hands under the cold water staring at them watching the blood run down his wrists down to the drain of the sink trying to think of a way around this… what could he do ? he needed help… The man shook his head at just the thought of him asking for help. “Rubbish.” he slapped the water off drying his hands on his briefs and going to check on you to see you asleep.

Its dark there huh?

Like the cell

“Shut up…” the tired shaky man shook his head going back to the living room, his vision was dizzy and he had to drag himself along the wall so he would not stumble and fall.

Why do you even bother?

Coming here?

“B-b-because..”Draco fell into the back of the couch seeing Biscuit asleep on his pillow and quickly went around the furniture to scoop up the rabbit holding him close to his chest. He let out a heavy sigh of relief once he felt Biscuits cold nose against his chest sniffing around. “I ,.. Wanna be with her…” he laid down on the couch with the curious bunny on his chest. He shook his head several times trying to get the voices to subside..

But does she want to be with .. you?

“She does.. “

Draco did not last long in the dark; he had gotten up and turned every light on except for the bedroom . one thing Draco did learn in Azkaban was that the Dementors hated the light. So every night he would sit under the window in his cell hoping the moon would be full and bright enough to shine in on him… But even with all the lights on he still saw darkness when he shut his eyes…

He was back on the couch with Biscuit on his chest again trying to think of something else, anything else. He wanted to share the bed with you so bad.. He longed for that moment with you. To have you snuggle against him .. tracing your finger on his chest.. Telling him stories .. cuddling up to him when you get cold.. Did you have any cute sleeping habits he wondered.. And did you prefer the middle or the edge of the bed.. Did you like to sleep in …?

“Rabbit……”

What if you get worse?

You already broke a glass, remember?

“Shut u-u-p…” he was starting to sweat, a long bead of it sliding down his head. We miss you Draco

Dont you miss us?

“N-no..” his hands found his hair digging into his locks. “I .. “

We love you for who you are Draco.

“You bastards made me this way..!” he sat up and Biscuit hopped off his lap scaring Draco, he jumped shielding his face till he realized it was just the bunny. “Im…” he wrapped his arms around himself feeling very sticky and uncomfortable all over, his skin felt like it was crawling and his bruises ached again with each heave of breath he took from his chest. “Im fine…”

You are fine , Draco.

Perfectly fine

Your fine

Your fine

Your fine…

Your ..fine

You-r fi-ne…

“SHUT UP!!!” Draco threw himself on the floor hitting his head hard on the wood making the voices subside, he stayed there for a minute, crying.

**

In the morning you had woken up to an empty bed and every light on in your home. Quickly you jumped out of bed rushing to the living room to see it empty. “dr..Draco..”

“Yes Rabbit?” you heard behind you.

You whipped around seeing Draco with a towel around his neck and sweats on him. You clung to him sighing with relief. “Nothing.. Goodmorning.”

Draco squeezed you tight, wrapping an arm around your back and head giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Draco had passed out from exhaustion last night around 3 AM and woke up not too long ago drenched in a cold sweat with Biscuit wiggling his nose on his cheek . he had no idea when you would wake up so he had to hurry and cover his tracks.

“Good Morning Rabbit.” Draco squeezed you again and you slipped free taking his hand.

“I'm thinking.. We go get some clothes today?”

“S-sure.”

“And i think the twins opened their shop up again, maybe we could .. go check it out? Everyone deserves a good laugh sometimes..”

he was nervous.. It would be crowded in the twins shop...

Why dont you just run away

Come back to us

You cant handle things on your own anymore

You cant handle this-

He shook his head bringing your hand to his lips so he could kiss it. “Sounds good, Rabbit.”

The shopping went.. Okay.. there's only so many choices in Diagon Alley after all. Simple dress clothes and a couple loose shirts was all he needed. All though you insisted he get some more clothes he could relax in .

“Draco dont you want more loose fitting things?”

“D-dosint ma-matter Rabbit” he was having a hard time talking to other people. Everyone he ran into asked him about Azkaban and you had to step in and change the subject before Draco blew up at them. You noticed he did not walk the same way he did in Hogwarts; back then he had his head in the clouds, his ego on his sleeve, his attitude front and center and that damn smug smile he wore on that damn grumpy face.

Now he looked over his shoulder, shook his head, faked his smile and rubbed his hands alot to keep himself from scratching his arms. You noticed he only did it when the wind blew and were growing more and more concerned about him. Something was wrong, something awful must have happened in Azkaban… but the real question was would he ask you to listen to him explain… anyone… someone.. You loved Draco Malfoy, but you worried for his health too.

“Hmm.. im going to get you a few more . ill be right back “

“O-o kay, ill be .. at the twins shop”

You turned to grab his hand “you sure youll be okay alone?”

Will you?

We dont think so

You wont be alone Draco

….you will have us…

He shook his head and pulled you in for a hug and kissed your lips. “Im sure, Pet. no go get me something nice yeah?” he patted your head, getting a small smile out of you.

“Yes, Draco” you teased him hurrying off into the clothing store again. It warmed his heart a bit.. He loved the teasing .. he wanted more of it. He wanted hsi days to be full of it…

Its a shame…

...that this will not last..

..but….. Everyday you go on..

...brings you closer to us…

“Shut.. up..i shouldn't be able to hear you in that bloody twins shop … “ Draco stumbled turning around to make hsi way to the very eyesore of a shop.

*

Loud. it was loud. It was crowded and people were everywhere laughing, playing jokes on others, playing music, things were flying around, confetti and the likes. People shoving to get to the next big attraction and shoving all kinds of colourful candy in their mouths. Draco flinched every time someone touched him. Usually he would yell and shove back but .. all he could do now was cower and look over his shoulder . his head was quiet, for once. He could not hear the Dementors in here and the shop was well lit too making it easier to keep them at bay.

Draco maneuvered the shop looking for the twins , it should not be too hard. All the Weasleys have this unique look to them. Draco moved to the center of the store when someone bumped him trying to get by making him jump and stumble into the desk hitting his hip, someone else pushed by and he white knuckled the furniture starting to breath heavily.

Draco…..

Draco…….

Draco……….

“Dammit.. Shut up….” he pulled himself up looking over the people seeing the twins at the back of the store. Carefully he made his way to them and they both saw him and waved.

“There he is !” Fred said.

“All is right now yep” George added.

Draco was holding his side trying to stand up straight and look intimidating but the look on his face told the twins he was afraid.

“Bloody… twins.”

“Thats us!” they both said with pride.

“Wheres… Pottah…..”

They looked at each other and then Draco, getting a good look at him.

“You okay Mate?” Fred asked , helping him steady himself

“How is y/n by the way?” George asked.

“Shes f--f-f-ine, “ he shook Fred off gulping down a breath. “Where. Is. Pottah”

“Uhm.. top floor actually, hes getting some things for his kids.” Fred pointed.

“Thanks..” Draco shot them a look with a slight nod and made hsi way up the steps to the much more empty area. He spotted Harry looking over some joke spells in a book . Draco tried to be quiet but…

The boy who lived?

Draco stumbled into a desk making it squeak, Harry looked up from the book and quickly put it down to go to Dracos side. He was struggling to stand and breathe.

“Draco…? Are you alright?”

“Sshh--shut up…-”

Yes ,,, Draco …

Shut him out…

You dont need him

You only need us

...you only need… us

Harry helped the man anyway and Draco slumped into his side cursing himself. Harry helped Draco to an empty room and shut the door, carefully he sat the man down in a chair and sat down across from him not saying anything. Draco was a mess inside and out right now, he hated Pottah, hated everything about him , how dare he refuse to be his friend all those years ago? That duel… that damn… quidditch match… that damn….. Bird …

Leave..

Leave

Draco, leave

You dont need-

“P-p-pott-ah,.....”

Dont.

“I … n-ee-dd,....” he dug his fingers in his hair whimpering in front of this man .

Harry instantly knew something was wrong, he stayed as calm as he could.

Draco Malfoy of Slytherin... the smug, man who did not care for anyone else at all , only himself. Never asked for help from anyone, did things his way… picked on whoever he wanted...not a care in the world… was whimpering in front of the man he hated most. On the verge of a breakdown.

“I need…..”

DONT DRACO!!!

He looked in Harrys eyes with heavy tears falling down his face… staining the wood table. “I need help……………………..please………………”

[poedameronloverx]

Who’s Looking After You?

Life in Lockdown - Masterlist

Poe Dameron x F Solo Reader

Hey everyone! Hope you’ve all had a lovely week. Here is the next part of my series. 

Big mentions of covid again this week so if that’s going to upset you then I full understand if you want to give this a miss. Also mentions of anxiety.

But we also have more of reader bonding with BeeBee and a nice wee heart to heart between her and Poe. And then there’s Finn asking the questions we all want the answer to!

Month 3 – May 2020

Rose's illness came and went without too much drama. Her symptoms suggested COVID but she hadn't been as ill with it as a lot of other people had. Poe had a few symptoms too, they started off pretty mild. He decided to stay in the house just incase so you had taken over BeeBee's walks. The little dog was confused at first, wondering why his best friend wasn't walking him but he soon got used to it and was happy to be out with you. You and Rose were taking turns to look after Poe. Finn was still keeping out of the way due to his work, so the two of you were working around one another and your work schedules to check on how Poe was feeling. After a few days he started to feel worse, his throat was sore and he had no energy. You made him soup and checked in to make sure he was looking after himself.

“Sweetheart, you're going to get sick” he protested as you moved his pillows around to help him get comfortable.

“I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you!” you replied “And I'm going to continue to worry about you and take care of you until you're back to your normal self!” 

You fussed around him some more, making sure he had everything he needed before you had to head back to your desk for a zoom meeting.

“So, when are we going to talk about it?” Finn asked, a few nights later as you sat down to dinner with him and Rose.

“Talk about what?” you asked

“This sexual tension between you and Poe”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on! You can't pretend, it's so obvious that you like him and it's obvious that he likes you so once he's better you should do something about it!”

“Wait, did he say something?” Rose asked “Because you didn't tell me he liked her back!”

“Hold on!” you butted in “You told Finn?”

“I'm sorry! I know I should've kept my mouth shut but it's Finn and he promised me he wouldn't tell Poe!”

“And I didn't!” Finn replied “But I just think you two deserve to be happy and being together would obviously make both of you happy!”

“You guys need to stop getting involved. Poe doesn't like me in that way and that's totally fine. He's my friend and I don't want to lose that if you guys make this awkward so please stop!”

“We won't make it awkward” Rose replied “We won't say another thing”

You couldn't sleep that night, everything Finn had said was going round on loop in your head. BeeBee slept soundly at the foot of the bed, he'd taken to sleeping in your room most nights. You climbed out of bed and looked out the window. The rain was falling onto the peaceful street. It had been raining for a few hours and puddles had already formed everywhere. You decided to head downstairs to get a glass of water, the lack of sleep was beginning to annoy you. When you walked into the living room, you were startled to see a figure sat on the couch.

“Poe? What are you doing up?”

“Couldn't sleep” he replied “I'm feeling a lot better so I figured there was no harm in having a little wander round the house since everyone was in bed!”

“As long as you’re alright” you replied

“I am, wanna sit with me for a while? You’ve been taking care of me so you’ve probably passed any risk of catching this”

“Yeah, may as well since I’m wide awake”

You could feel him staring at you, he hadn't put the lights on in the living room. Only the small lamp in the dining room was giving any light.

“Tell me honestly, are you doing okay? You had all the stress with your dad being ill, then you looked after Rose and now you’re looking after me. Who’s looking after you sweetheart”

“Honestly Poe, I’m fine. Keeping busy keeps my mind off of not being able to see my family. I like looking after you guys. I enjoy walking Bee, I like making the soups you’ve taught me and when I’m not working I like cooking dinner for us all”

“You’re too good to us. Even just letting Finn and I move in and completely throw your life into even more chaos by taking over your home”

You glanced at him and smiled.

“I like having you here” you replied “It’s good to have a group to hang out with. Rose and I would bicker about stupid stuff when we just spent weekends together. We would’ve been a nightmare alone for all these weeks. I like being able to spend time with her but then have the option to walk away from her and hang out with you. I’m not going to lie and say these past few weeks have been easy and amazing because they haven’t, they’ve sucked. Not knowing if my dad was going to be alright or not whilst not being able to see my mum was torture. Then Rose getting ill and now you, I feel like I’ve constantly been worried and my anxiety has been terrible but I really am alright”

“Can we make a deal then?” Poe asked

“What kind of deal?”

“Well I’m worried about you and how much you’ve taken on, so how about once a week you have an evening to yourself? Run a bath, or just have a lie down. Whatever you want. It would just make me feel better to know that you were taking a break!”

“Alright, deal” you replied “Now tell me what else is on that mind of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Poe Dameron, I can basically see the cogs turning under that beautiful hair of yours. So tell me what's on your mind”

He sighed “My work is struggling. The pandemic has hit us hard and they don't know if we'll be able to keep going. I might lose my job”

“Oh Poe, I'm so sorry. Is that why they stopped you guys working from home?”

“Yeah, there wasn't enough work for us so they told us not to bother. We're still going to get paid for now but I really don't know how long that's going to last for”

“I'm sure something else will come up” you replied “And if not, you know we're all here for you. You'll never find yourself out on the street”

“Thank you sweetheart, that really means the world to me!”

A few days later, you were getting ready to take BeeBee his walk. You’d been working that morning, once you’d finished you had time to make a pot of soup for lunch, re-organise the living room and dust every surface in the room. BeeBee was very set in his ways and always knew when it was walk time. He wouldn’t let anyone forget it either, his usual tactic was slowly wandering over to where you were and nudging your ankle with his nose. You were just putting your coat on when Poe walked into the room.

“I’m feeling much better and I’m going stir crazy in this house. Fancy some company?”

“I dunno, what do you think BeeBee, should we let your dad tag along? He might cramp our style!”

The Corgi wagged his tail with excitement when he saw his best friend was ready to take him out for the first time in over a week. BeeBee had always enjoyed the attention you gave him whenever you went to see Poe and Finn, or if they’d brought him over, but living together had meant you and the little dog had bonded a lot more, especially when you had to walk him. He was spending a lot of time with you rather than Poe.

“I think he’s alright with it” you chuckled

“I think he’s replacing me” Poe pouted “You’re now his favourite person in the world”

“I mean, can you blame him? I’m awesome!”

“That’s true! But don’t let your head get too big or you won’t fit out the front door!”

Rose wandered into the room, she smiled when she saw Poe putting his coat on.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great”

“Much better. And I absolutely cannot wait to go outside”

“Enjoy the fresh air! But remember if it’s too much, you need to rest”

“I will Rose, thanks. I’m sure Y/N will take care of me and make sure I’m not over doing it”

“Damn right I will”

The walk was nice, you took it at a slow pace so Poe wouldn’t get tired too quickly. BeeBee seemed to have an extra spring in his step now that his dad was back walking him. You did a lap round the park before Poe said he was tired. You found a bench and let him sit down whilst you threw a ball for BeeBee. When the dog got bored of the game you sat down next to Poe.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m fine sweetheart, thanks”

“Do you fancy a coffee or anything?”

“Nah, just your company is enough for me”

You ducked your head, hoping he wouldn’t see your embarassment. You smiled as BeeBee ran around chasing after a bird that just wanted to sit on the grass. May had been an extremely difficult month with Rose and Poe both being ill, Poe’s job being at risk and not being able to go and help your mum look after your dad. 6 weeks of being in lockdown had been hard, your anxiety was flaring worse than ever and some days felt more of a struggle than others. You were glad to be with your friends and BeeBee. Facetime had been a lifeline to keep in touch with your parents, your brother and sister in law and your two nephews. You just hoped it wouldn’t be too long until you could see them in person.

So thats us for this week. I hope if you read it you enjoy it and as always your comments and suggestions would mean the world to me. I’m kinda lagging behind with where I wanted to be with this series in terms of how many chapters ahead I had written so if you guys have any suggestions of things you’d like me to write in this then please do let me know <3

[rpbetter]

Hi! How do you distinguish between a mun who has favorites but still treats their non favorites with respect, and a mun who has favorites but uses this as an excuse to disrespect everyone else? Sometimes it's hard for me to tell, and I'd love to hear what you think.

Hey, Anon! That's actually a great question.

It's also totally reasonable to have a hard time telling. When you feel like you might be a little more into the threads than the other mun is, no matter how much they're being respectful and caring, it can still feel a bit...lame. We all want to be a favorite writing partner, even as we know that's impossible, that we can't manage that ourselves. It's not a thing of logic!

I feel like I should probably preface the detailing I'm about to do - this is only my experience. There are always variables in anything dealing with other people, and any time we're already feeling down, it's really easy to see things in a way that might not be the reality.

Alright, then.

Muns who use this as an excuse or justification for what they're doing tend to be the ones that:

are likely to pair the excuse/justification with aggressively vilifying anyone who takes issue with their treatment of them for being too serious about RP/too emotionally invested in anything from friendships to ships/otherwise "not realizing it's just a hobby" - apparently, "hobby" actually means "you're not making a dollar, so, do whatever you want in whatever way you want, so long as it's making you and only you happy and comfortable," who knew?

will lead muns on, either because they're uncomfortable with telling those who are not the favorites that...well, they're not the favorites and they might wish to just drop the threads or because...

they have a bit of a habit of going through favorites/their favorites take frequent breaks or are slower to reply, and it's good to have other muns around for when either situation happens - it's okay if everyone else is bored and/or left out, but not them

become angry and defensive if you ask them about your thread(s) and/or if everything is alright after a reasonable period of inactivity only on your threads*

if they previously had OOC contact and/or a friendship with you, it's one pole or another of OOC behavior with you now - no contact/as little as they can possibly manage or they'll proceed like you also only want to have conversations about what is going on with the favorite(s), the ships, the threads, the fandom, the mun. Before anyone misconstrues this to mean that "so, no matter what they do it's sus lol," no. There is such a thing as neither insulting someone by having nothing else to talk about except the mun/muse/ship you're ignoring them for nor just stopping/avoiding conversation altogether. It's actually not normal or acceptable to treat people like disposable fixations or expect them to be thrilled or lie about it when you can't shut up about their replacement(s)

in general, if this mun just keeps making it apparent that neither you nor anyone else exists unless they're the favored mun? That's really it. That's the difference between having favorites and still treating other muns with respect - there isn't any respect, none of you exist to respect

*I'm not going to speak to what is reasonable to everyone, it's one of those things I think muns should mention to some degree in their rules, but with people taking it to mean things it doesn't, it's doubtful that's going to happen. (I encourage it, though, please, put in your rules when you'll ask about threads or if you'll assume there is no more interest and they've been dropped. "After one month of no reply and no OOC contact, I will either contact you to ask if you're still interested." No big deal!) For me, it would depend on the mun themselves, even if I've got in my rules that after x time, I will assume y. If this is a mun that has updated OOC that they're extra slow right now, and they're usually pretty slow, I'm going to just see that as them prioritizing preferred partners with what little time they have, that's not coming across as rude favoritism to me at that point. If it's a mun that has continued to reply as normal, posted no updates OOC, and they're specifically just replying to one or two favorites with that regular timing, I'm going to ask if they're still interested after a month or so.

The problem always is that, despite what the RPC likes to say for the same damn reason, we're all afraid to be acting on ridiculous suspicion and paranoia. We get treated a certain way, maybe it is once and it was just extremely bad, maybe it has happened over and over again, and we really do start seeing phantoms of ill-treatment. It becomes difficult to trust your own judgment and listen to your inner voice (one that, furthermore, is already at least a bit embattled by life on and offline).

These are only some points to help you trust yourself or disprove yourself if you already feel like there might be this problem going on.

If you have someone who could be impartial when given evidence, you might want to consider asking if they'd mind helping you identify if this is a problem or not. Don't mention mun names or even muses if you're in the same intersections of the RPC, you're not trying to smear anyone here, just get a different viewpoint that isn't touched by any negative or positive feelings about that mun!

I said "evidence," so, I want to be clear that I did not mean screenshots or direct quotes. Give situations, what the mun is and is not doing, as both are important.

Some questions that might help you identify things to present to a third party for help:

Are they replying to any of your threads, how about asks?

If/when they reply to you IC, how do they reply? Is it shorter than it used to be, unenthusiastic? Or is it the same, just fewer and farther between, or less interesting to you than what they're doing with preferred partners?

Are the plots they're doing with the favorite(s) ones that you previously had with them or that you had plotted out and were working toward? And if that answer is yes, are these common plots that can be applied anywhere or specific ones?

Is this all something that is perhaps temporary overexcitement, or has this just kept going on for months, shows no sign of stopping?

Did you speak/were friends OOC? If so, how has this changed? Frequency of messaging, topics of conversation, enthusiasm, interest in you or your muse?

Are you now left out of games on the dash in which you used to be tagged, or unwelcome in things like "dash crack?" Is it, by contrast, that you might be welcome in the latter, but either it doesn't interest you by inclusion/focus of the favorite or because you lack a base of engagement with what's going on?

Do they send you memes, has that changed at all?

The way you feel is valid, but it might also be influencing the way you're viewing a situation, including in how you relate it to someone else for help. So, try to stick to actions when doing so.

By contrast, muns who have favorites but are not using this to justify being disrespectful to others tend to:

be open and upfront about having favorites and why - they're not trying to hide anything, including what makes their favorite writing partners, threads, and ships favorites to begin with

^they are not "open and upfront" by obnoxiously reminding everyone constantly who those favorites are, they're not shit posting how @munthatisntyou is their bestie/their muse is lusting after their muse/actually my wife. They are upfront about it by stating in their rules they can, will, and do have favorites. They're open about it by not lying or acting like it's the worst accusation ever when someone asks them about it

definitely have priority threads, might have an easier, thus faster, time responding to questions/prompts regarding those threads/ships, but still respond with equal interest to memes from others*

the same is true of interest and turnaround time with thread replies, they might get the preferred ones out faster, but they're still replying to everyone and still keeping other muns updated on what's going on*

will not be hostile when approached by fair, politely put concerns about threads, but rather, will respond with honesty as to their interests - whether they have, indeed, changed or haven't alike

they still express the same interest OOC outside of messages, liking and commenting on posts, sending memes, and being concerned or congratulatory when they see OOC posts dealing with life events

in general, muns who just have favorites like everyone does remain aware of others in the same way they always have, still make efforts to respond to threads, memes, messages, etc. with the same interest they always have - they appreciate everyone they interact with, not only their favorite(s)

*Everyone has a different way that works for them, and that influences their meme answering, thread replying, and OOC response turnaround time. A very social mun might respond to OOC messages more frequently, reliably, and with more zeal than a mun who is less socially active, forgetful, or dealing with different difficulties that might prevent doing so, for example. As another example, a mun who writes lengthy, detailed novella that takes a while to finish is going to take longer with everyone than a mun who writes in a way, or just has more time to write, that allows for replies to get out faster. Please, keep expectations and observances mindful of these factors and differences! What is typical of one mun might be perceived as legitimate favoritism when contrasted with a mun who operates differently than them.

That's really the difference, there is recognition and appreciation of everyone. They might have a visibly different friendship with their favorite(s), but it doesn't come with the cost of treating everyone else either like they don't exist or like total shit. And that comes in many ways, as many ways as there are possible interactions in the RPC. From being casual mutuals who do not write together (still acknowledging posts etc.) to outright writing partners (still giving replies with as much effort and quality).

You can think of muns like this as you would people who have different sorts of friendships as opposed to people who have rather cliquey friendships in which it's often enough a clique of two in which everyone else, even if included or otherwise used by those two, only exists out of necessity. The former is a normal social situation, we get on well with the people we do for a reason, and that's perfectly alright. The latter is some immature and self-interested behavior one should have grown out of in junior high.

As you didn't ask for this, I'm putting it under the cut as additional advice for others!

If you feel like someone is being disrespectful, or worse, and is glossing it over with "it's okay for people to have favorites, calm down" (a thing that's totally true but not meant to be used to excuse shitty behavior), you really do want to just remove yourself from the situation. In a situation like that, you're not going to change their behavior, and even if you did, are you ever going to be able unsee it?

What is more likely to happen is you'll be growing the seed of upset they planted into a big tree of animosity. Every time you are on your dash and see them replying or tagging their favorite(s), you're going to be either hurt or angry. Eventually, it's impossible to separate which of those things you are, and it's increasingly likely you're going to say or do something regrettable. And I mean regrettable in how it is likely to negatively affect you. You don't deserve to be branded a terrible person for an outburst. The situation has been bad enough.

Whether you should soft block to unfollow and force an unfollow, hard block, unfollow with or without communication is all subject to too many variables for me to advise any single course of action.

If it's possible to communicate politely that you're officially dropping threads or unfollowing, I will always advise doing so. If that isn't possible because this mun has been that terrible, or has proven in the past that they will react badly to such communications, then so be it, just quietly remove yourself from their presence.

You owe friends, even former ones if they've not done you awfully, the decency of communicating that you're ending things. You owe mutuals who haven't done anything more than ignoring you (as awful as that is, it's not as bad as being aggressively disrespectful, lying to you, leading you on, etc.) that decency and maturity as well. You do not owe anyone who has behaved like an immature ass that decency, it's okay to just leave in those cases. As it is in situations when you feel confident that speaking to them is going to cause drama for you.

When a mun hasn't ever really interacted with you, you've become mutuals, but it never went anywhere because they were already engaged in ignoring everyone except the favorite(s), it's alright to just leave quietly, too. They clearly don't register that you exist, so...don't exist. Go exist around muns who know you're there. But the caveat to that should be that if they decide to notice your vacant spot on the dash and come to you to ask about this, you should answer them. Be honest, but polite. Tell them that you just didn't see working out with them after all, and since you hadn't interacted, you unfollowed.

You never know (you just shouldn't count on it), in that latter case especially, that mun might honestly not be aware of the effect of their actions. Like everyone else, they're just doing what they enjoy, what makes them happy is what they're concentrated on, and might genuinely just have a narrow field of vision on it until spoken to.

Whatever is right for the unique situation at hand, don't lie to someone if they message you about it. Don't just act like it was an accidental unfollow or a tumblr glitch, grit your teeth, and add them back so that there is no unpleasantness. There is already unpleasantness if you felt the need to distance yourself from them, remember that!

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 22

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @iamhollows)

A/N: thanks to my lovely friend @geekonaleash, who wrote majority of the letters, I was able to put this out for you guys.

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc c @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Weeks go by of the same routine, taking odd jobs and small cases from her father with little to no hiccups.

It was easy, almost too easy. She had taken on the likes of croc and bane just some months ago, now dealing with petty thefts and bank robbers. She longed for the night she could truly test her skills, whether that be in her fighting or brains.

That night came on a chilly November night.

Her heart raced in her chest as she rounded the alley, her body cold to the core from the deep winter air. Hardly any snow lay on the ground, mostly turned to a dark brown slush that made a God awful noise against her boots.

Her legs felt like they would give out any second, having run through the street practically the entire night in the freezing cold.

She spotted a dumpster up ahead, willing her legs to go a bit further. ‘Just a few minutes’ she thought as she sat down behind it.

It was late, nearly 3 in the morning. Having been out since 8, her body freezing cold making any and all energy in her body disapste.

Her heart sank to her stomach when she saw it, making her eyes widen as she got up.

There, at the opening of the dumpster, lay a hand.

She inspected the body for a split moment, to the best of her ability. Having it been thrown in, trash covering it almost completely.

She knows this is a bad idea, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she pulls it from the dumpster, laying it in a heap on the ground.

From the looks of their clothes, or better yet lack thereof, she’s able to tell it's a prostitute. Long blonde hair a tangled mess as her clothes torn.

The most notable wound being a slash to her throat, that bled down to her chest.

The cut wasn’t deep but torn, the skin fraying like ripped denim. A serrated knife, or a sawing motion from a dull blade. She tries not to think of the immense pain that was caused, even with the cut not being very long. They were left to bleed out, or the killer watched as the Poor woman choked and tried screaming out from the pain, only being able to cough up blood.

“What in the?” She whispers when she sees it, a piece of paper?

She grabs for it from under her top, looking it over and, what?

It almost resembled a riddle, her mind flashing momentarily to the green wearing man before she remembered. Riddler never does kills like these, especially with the body being hidden. His is always a show, a way to get attention. This was sloppy, definitely the persons first.

She took one last look to the body, before making a call to the GCPD, telling them the coordinates. She looked one last time at the letter, before folding it, tucking it into her jacket. Well, here’s her chance she’s been waiting for.

She takes a seat at her desk, lamp set on the letter as she peers down at it.

society mocks those who be different, who dwell in the dark like the shadow of a once bright star, only to cry out when the star be a comet, painting the streets in scarlet and ash. You’ll find the next body where care is to be given, but only to let them die in the end.

What does this mean? She thinks as she reads over the words. Who dwell in the dark like the shadow of a once bright star. They must’ve been someone of status of some kind, whether it be from wealth, family or great skill and achievements, who had everything ripped either by their own doing or another.

only to cry out when the star be a comet, painting the streets in scarlet and ash. They must blame others for what happened to them, and subsequently for loosing their status, so they’re desperate for the game and notoriety they were used to, but from whatever trauma they went through, it broke them. Causing immense anger and rage to fill them, warping their mind, thus the killings. They’re so angry at the world, they want fear, and to cause others the pain they must feel the world brought them.

Her heart drops when she hears her door open, shoving the letter into her desk as she turns around.

“Hey you busy at all?” Tim asks, “no why?” She lies, hoping to God that her voice won’t give her away.

Either he didn’t notice, or chose not to ask as he sits on her bed, her joining him immediately after.

They sit and idly chat about their day, but her mind keeps playing over the letter. What does all this mean? Why is-her questions stop when she looks up, seeing him looking at her in question. “You alright?” He asks. “Yeah why?” “You just seem, out of it. You sure you’re feeling alright?” She sighs at this, truly wanting to ask him to help, but in her gut, she knows that’s the easy way out. He would be able to crack it in seconds, fully able to get the profile on the man easily. She wanted to prove to her father that, she could actually do this on her own. Which is why, she had to lie. “Yeah, sorry just really tired. The cold really made tonight way harder.” A soft smile player on his lips at this. “Well then in that case, I’ll leave you to sleep, and maybe look at upgrading your suit to make it warmer. How’s that sound?” Her heart warms at this, a smile on her face. “That'd be great, thank you.” “Hey no problem, I’ve had to do it so many times, it takes me a few days at most.” He chuckles. She pulls him in for a hug, hey arms wrapping around his shoulders before pulling away.

She gets under her covers as he walks out, a smile on his face as he shuts her light out.

She gets up as soon as he shuts the door, walking quietly back to her desk, pulling out the letter.

She knew she had to do this by herself she thought, as she got her notepad out and got to work.

After reading and deciding the letter, she was able to figure out where the next body would be. The Gotham general hospital. And she knew, this body wouldn’t be hard to find.

And she was right, as soon as she finished the few cases her father sent her on, she got straight to making her way to the hospital. For once thankful for the simple missions he would put her on.

She was right to her suspicion, finding the body directly on the roof of the hospital. Sprawled out was a nurse, who was just as gruesome as the last. A stab wound to the heart. Blood soaked her scrubs, making the soft blue a deep, almost blackened purple. Her eyes wide in horror, set like stone to gaze up to the sky.

And as she knew, there was a letter in her pocket.

She quickly grabbed for the letter, calling the GCPD once again, before leaving.

‘An open casket filled with treasures In one sudden move of utmost pleasures. Sweet cries of the poor carer, Thinking someone cared was her error. You’ll find the body where people gather to see history, not knowing history be made there.’

Something happened to them, something that made their fall from fame so breaking, it broke them in the process.

It not only broke them physically, but emotionally. They hated the care from the hospital and the staff. They were strong, powerful, capable. They were hurt and had to get help for a while, something they loathed. They were probably an athlete, relying on their bodies for their fame.

You’ll find the body where people gather to see history, not knowing history be made there. History, a school? No, that’s not right. History, that word stuck out in her mind.

She quickly got out her laptop, and within a few minutes, she found the Gotham Museum of Antiquities.

She turned back to the letter, setting it flat to her desk.

She ran her fingers over the writing, feeling the harsh indents from the pressure of the pen. It was shaky, the deep indents feeling jagged. They were hurt, humiliated by what happened, causing rage to fill them. They felt such anger that, she could feel it in how hard they wrote. This wasn’t a psychopath, no, this was someone deeply hurt, driven mad.

She wrote all this down as she went, setting the papers over her desk in as neat of a pile that she could.

She quickly set it all into her desk, making sure they were all in an order. She had to make sure nobody would come in, or else, they might find all of this.

It was highly irstional, to think that any of them would go hunting in her room. But the fear of them doing so, kept her up most of the night.

She came up with yet another lie, faking being too ill to go out the next night. Her father concerned for the believable cough she let out, finally being calmed once she told him she was going to stay in that night.

She felt bad, truly. She hated keeping not only a secret, but lying to both her father and her best friend. But she knew this would give her more time, and having her soul focus on this one case.

She waited to hear them leave for over 15 minutes before she readied herself, making sure to leave her door locked.

They all at least knew that, if it was locked, not to enter unless emergency, even then, it would have to be the manor burning down.

She climbed out her window, making sure to listed in to where Alfred was before she made the trip from her high window.

‘So this is what most teenagers feel when they sneak out the house.’ She thought as she got down to the cold ground. Snow had finally fallen in a large heap over the city, making her trip to where she hid her bike that morning harder. It’d be a dead giveaway she snuck out if she just walked through the snow, so it took her time to reach the shrub where her bike lay.

Finally managing to get out of the trees surrounding the manor, she made sure to shut any and all tracking devices she wore, before leaving.

“He’s getting bolder.” She whispered as she reached the museum. There, on the front steps of the old building, lay a man. A security guard to be exact.

She walked over to the man, crouching down to the body. Only this time, there was no stab wound to either his throat or to his chest. But blood looked underneath.

She turned the body around, finally seeing where the source of the blood came from. A deep stab wound to the mans upper back, nearly exposing his shoulder and spine.

She groaned out, reaching for her shoulder blades as memories of the healing played in her mind. To this day, any injury to the upper back or shoulders on another person sent her back, back to the worst time of her life.

Another note, placed in his front pocket pocket out.

She reached for it, tucking it into her jacket before standing up.

She froze in place when she saw them, her eyes trained on them as her heart slows. Prints in the snow nearly filled in, but still visible.

She crouched down to them, looking at each one closely.

They were almost filled in, so this had been taken place only some hours ago. Before the heavy blanket of snow hit.

The thing that stood out was the spacing and the pattern. They were jagged, almost slipping looking like.

The man had a limp. She thought, before standing beside them. She walked to recreate the steps, an evident limp in how they went. It was his right leg. Something happened here, and she thinks she knows what.

She sat at her desk, her blanket securely wrapped around her as she peered down to the letter.

‘It all ends with no more laughter, you’ll find the next body where families gather to watch stars be made on a Field, A trophy that can no longer be concealed’

It all ends with no more laughter. He was mocked, or he believed he was when maybe others looked at him with sympathy. In his eyes, it was them mocking him.

Where families gather to watch stars be made on a Field, A trophy that can no longer be concealed.

He was an athlete, had to be. A gasp leaves her lips as it hits her. Her heart drops to her stomach as she reached for her laptop, hurily turning it on as she writes down her thoughts.

Garrett Wilkins, star quarterback of the Gotham Rogues. Well, used to be.

Star in the game, having played it all his life from school to professional. He had everything. Fame, Wellth, everything.

That was until a fateful day in November, as he was walking out of the old museum with his longtime girlfriend, he was shot in the back.

He was able to make outstanding recovery, no longer wheelchair ridden like doctors thought. But he didn’t walk away how he was. He developed a bad limp, causing his team to kick him off.

Last people heard of him, was his girlfriend left him because of a rumored drinking problem.

This all took place 2 years ago.

She ran as fast as her legs took her, nearly falling over due to the thick snow on the ground.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she entered the arena, eyes searching around until she saw it. Her heart sank to her feet, as a pained sigh left her lips.

She thought she could make it in time, hoping, praying that she would be able to get there before him or when he was here. A small amount of hope that, she could save her.

She crouched down to her body, a tear slipping into her mask as a pained whimper left her lips.

She had hoped he wouldn’t have, but she knew, he would kill her.

“I’m so sorry Cass.” She cried, as she closed her wide eyes. Her body a bloody mess, nearly unrecognizable due to the many stab wounds that littered her body.

And again, like it was a call from a screaming Banshee, lay another letter.

Once more my face will grace your screen A star running on a field of green But now and forever my title I reclaim Never will I lose my newfound fame. You’ll find the next body where families go to play, to be surrounded by others as they watch their children’s play.

“God fucking damnit!” She exclaimed as she slammed her hand against her table, tears filling her eyes. She really, truly hoped she could make it in time. But sadly, she knew this would happen eventually. You can’t save everyone she thought.

Her feet carry her all the way to the park, her heart heavy in her chest from the memories flooding back.

She laughs out as he spins her around, nearly making him fall from both their laughter.

Their faces only inches apart as he sets her down, arms still around her as they gaze into one another’s eyes. Hearts beating at a steady rhythm.

Her eyes search around the park, head tilted slightly as she looks around.

There’s no body? Maybe he hid it? No, he definitely wouldn’t. He WANTS them to be found, wants the fame back on him. Hiding the body gives a chance that it won’t be found, a risk he’s not willing to take.

She rounded the corner, walking further into the snow. Where could it be? She thinks, before her heart stops, everything going black.

A sharp slap to her cheek wakes her up, a cry breaking past her lips. “Jesum dude, a safe word would be nice.” She groaned out. “Where is he?” He demands, hand grabbing a hold of her neck. Her hands and legs tied to the chair. Surprisingly, they felt pretty secure.

“Who?” She asks, anger evident in her voice. “I know you work with Red Hood, Batman, all of them! WHERE ARE THEY!” He screams in her face.

She starts laughing, causing him to grow even angrier. “WHATS SO FUNNY!” She can’t help but throw her head back in laughter. “They’re not coming.” His face falls momentarily, before turning angry once again. “What do you mean THEY'RE NOT COMING!” “I mean exactly that. They aren’t because they don’t know you exist. Only I know and that’s only because I found the first body by accident. All you want is the game again Garrett, well guess what, you lost. Not red hood, Batman, fuck even the GCPD know who you are. You, lost.”

He slams his fists into the table beside her, letting out a frustrated scream. “Fine. Well, I guess I can get fame some other way.” He says, grabbing a gun beside him. Her heart drops to her stomach, shutting her eyes as she waits for the bullet. But, the gunshot never came. The sound of the door breaking down and the man falling to the ground screaming drowned out any and all noise.

She hisses out at the burn of the alcohol on her cheek,trying to drown out the thick silence of the room. “You could’ve gotten killed you know. No correction, you were about to be killed before we came.” Says Jason, anger evident in his tone. Her heart pains in her chest as she looks away from her father. She knows he’s only angry because of fear. Fear that his daughter could’ve died.

“I mean how could you be so careless like that! You should’ve been able to hear him! God I fucking trained you better than that!” He yells, arms up in anger. Everyone stays silent as he rants, knowing not to step between them. Memories of how protective he gets with her, none of them dare to try.

“You could’ve died tonight. This is why I’ve only sent you on smaller cases. I’ll be DAMNED if my daughter gets fucking killed because she was reckless!” “Jason, stop it.” Says dick. Everyone’s heads whip to the man, holding their breaths. “Oh yeah, why should I. My daughter almost got herself killed!” “Because you and none of us have any room to talk. We all risk our lives everytime we go out there. You can’t sit here and scold her for messing up. You, me, Bruce, everyone in the room has slipped up at least a dozen times. So don’t stand there and yell at her when what she did was highly impressive, especially where all you taught her was combat.” He says to the younger man. Jason knows he’s right, lowering his head.

“I’m sorry but what? What was impressive?” She asks nobody in particular. “How you were able to figure that out in such a short amount of time.” Says Tim. “I’m sorry what? How was that impressive? And also, how did you guys find me? I turned off all my tracking devices.” She was completely lost. How is that impressive to a room of some of the worlds greatest detectives. And how in the hell did they find her? “I was worried about you. Last I heard from you was you were sick, and I hadn’t seen or heard anything for over a day. So I, went to go check and found you weren’t there. And, you left all your research on the table. I was able to figure out where he lived, and we all just went.” Says Tim. She wasn’t mad, actually grateful. “And to answer your other question, it’s impressive because, Jason never taught you any advanced detective skills. You not only figured out his letters, but where. And, you can naturally profile handwriting. None of us can do that on our own. It took years to even somewhat make a good guess. Which is why, we wanted to ask you something.” She looks at dick in question, trying to figure out what he meant. “We wanted to ask if you’d join us. Be a part of our team.” Says Bruce. She looks at all of them like they’re mad, before she could say anything, her father beat her to it. “They brought it up to me, and I think, it’s a good idea. Dicks right. You’ve got a lotta skill that they could really use. Especially the handwriting thing. Plus, it’ll be good to have others around just in case something happened. It’ll not only make me feel better knowing you’ve got backup, but I know it’ll give you more room to lean. I’ve, been to scared to let you go out and really test not only your fighting, but your smarts. And I’m sorry for that.”

Everyone’s eyes train on her, as they wait for her response. Even Damians eyes look to her. She lets out a sigh, looking to her father first, before to all of them. “Fine. But on one condition.”

“Wait, you're asking what?” “Exactly that. I’ll be a part of your little Scooby gang as long as if there’s no other option, that if it’s life or death for any of us or civilians, I take them out.” She says, arms crossed. “You’ve gotta be fucking-.”Damian says, before Bruce cuts him off. “Fine. But only, if I, or anyone of the others apart from your father give the okay to that.” Damian looks to his father, eyes wide in anger and disbelief. “Are you-“ “deal.” She says, extending her hand out to Bruce. They both shake on it, neither paying attention to Damian. “You’re all okay with this?” He asks, anger still in his voice. “Didn’t you hear what they agreed on? She won’t do it unless one of us says she can.” Says Tim. “And we need her skills Damian.” Dick replies, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re all fucking crazy.” He says, heart beating wildly in his chest, walking away from everyone.