#also the grey spot is where I realized I had messed up and had to fix it and the editor I was using didn't have an eraser haha

[kirincult]

I also solved it because I love a 'doku

IM SO FUCKING HAPPY !!!!!!

[thesummerstorms]

The gingerwort truffle tea hits Rook a lot harder as soon as it has time to enter her blood stream. Around the time she starts humming some Marcher drinking song in Assan's direction, Davrin ends up cutting the picnic short and taking her back to the Lighthouse.

He's a little guilty, sure. He'd meant to give Rook an opportunity to relax, not to put her out of her mind with a hallucinogenic tea. Still, he can't help but laugh a little, especially as Rook keeps trying to have friendly conversations with Assan and the passing Crossroads spirits the whole way home. Her words are growing more slurred, though, so he's glad they don't accidentally stumble on any Venatori or Antaam on the way.

Lucanis walks in to the library just as Davrin is trying to get Arsinoë to settle down on the library couch. He's dressed for a trip - back to Treviso maybe, Bellara had made a comment about spices that morning- but as soon as he spots Arsinoë, his steps falter.

Crows are a paranoid bunch, so Davrin is ready for questioning. Rook and Lucanis are both professional assassins. He knew as soon as he realized what was happening that he'd probably have to talk someone down, reassure them of his intent.

In fact , the general plan had been to find either Neve or Lucanis, explain what happened and throw Rook at them, then find a seat where he would still be able to watch out for her and make sure there weren't complications, but where he was also well out of "clinging" range. Rook's arm had been thrown around his shoulder a little more closely than necessary on the walk back.

What Davrin is not prepared for is how Rook's eyes go wide when she sees Lucanis. The way she immediately stops trying to baby-talk Assan and grows pale and quiet. The crack in her voice when she blurts out- "Please don't tell Viago. Lucanis, please."

Davrin has seen frozen rivers warmer than the sensation that shoots down his spine. Rook's tone... This isn't some recruit embarrassed about being scolded. Her shoulders shake slightly beneath Davrin's hand. Assan lets out a little distressed chirp and rubs against her leg, but for once Arsinoë doesn't respond.

"I knew what was in the cup before I drank it, I promise. Don't tell Viago."

Lucanis's face has twisted up and, really, it isn't exactly a secret that he's sweet on Rook. Davrin is expecting to see his own horror mirrored back at him. A snarl, maybe, if anger draws Spite too close to the surface.

Instead Lucanis sighs. Not a flash of violet or a hostile glare thrown Davrin's way or a flinch away from Rook's pleading expression. Just a sigh.

Resignation, Davrin realizes.

Lucanis moves forward, crouching beside the sofa and ignoring Davrin entirely now as he speaks softly in Antivan. Davrin doesn't catch any of it except for "de Riva" but Rook is arguing back in the same language, so it doesn't seem to be having much effect. She keeps repeating herself - "por favor", he knows that one too- and if he were a betting man Davrin would put money on it being more or less the same refrain as what she said in Trade.

Rook leans forward earnestly, big grey eyes and too wide pupils. Lucanis asks her a question, his tone gone coaxing, and she shakes her head. Then he stands up and Rook puts her head in her hands.

"Hey, listen-" Davrin says tamping down the nervous twitch in his hand before he can reach before his sword. He steps in front of Lucanis instead, because whatever Rook is so worried about, he was the one who thought this whole mess would be a good idea. "Lucanis, it was just a tea. Rook's just having a bad reaction. Why does she keep asking –"

"Not now," Lucanis growls, gesturing with a short jut of his chin back in Rook's direction. "Ask later. Not now."

And okay, Davrin can understand that. If Arsinoë is this freaked out, no point in spooking her further. But he still doesn't understand why Lucanis is leaving, walking out the double doors of the main building and back out into the courtyard. Davrin trusts himself, sure, but Lucanis doesn't feel the same way, historically speaking. Yet he's walking away?

Arsinoë doesn't notice, all her earlier mirth evaporated like the morning dew. Assan is still making little worried squawks, looking back and forth from Rook to Davrin as if he has picked up on her distress and is demanding Davrin fix it.

Except Davrin doesn't know how because he still doesn't get why Arsinoë is so suddenly upset. He doesn't think it's just the tea, or surely she wouldn't have been so cheerful on the way back from Arlathan.

"This is some weird Crow shit, isn't it?" he says, mostly to himself since Arsinoë is too out of it to respond, "What the fuck." Then, he raises his voice a little. "Rook? You okay? Arsinoë."

At the sound of her name, her actual name, Arsinoë flinches.

What the fuck.

The doors creak open again. He hears the distinctive thunk of Neve's prosthetic against the stone floors followed by a sharp inhale as she catches sight of Arsinoë

"What's going on here?" Neve demands. Her reaction Davrin understands; immediately, she's at Rook's side, hands already starting to glow faintly with what is likely healing magic. "I thought you were headed to Arlathan. Was there trouble?"

"Not exactly," Davrin grimaces, watching as Rook (predictably) lifts her head a little at that last word, the one they all like to pretend he doesn't know Neve has taken to using as some sort of pet name for their glorious leader. Normally that would be his cue to take Assan and flee, but now he's just glad the Rook is reacting to something.

"Neve?" Rook asks, shifting in her seat, then gently pushing at Assan to make room for Neve to settle beside her. "Neve, you shouldn't drink the tea."

"The tea?" Neve asks, reaching up to brush a stray curl out of Arsinoë's face, "What tea?"

"Mmm. The tea. Ask Assan. My head is starting to hurt."

"Ask... Assan?" Predictably, Neve places the back of her hand against Arsinoë's forehead, a slight chill creeping into the air. Even more predictably, she looks back sharply at Davrin.

"Look, in my defense, Emmrich said it was fine. I drank the tea. I'm fine. But Rook..."

What Neve would have said to that, Davrin will never know because the doors open again. Lucanis strides in, too rushed to walk carefully and silence the clinking of his weapons. In his hands, he holds a clay pitcher and one of his own favorite cups, one of the ones from that fancy tea set.

Lucanis hesitates briefly, staring openly at the way Arsinoë pressing her face into Neve's hand, the way Neve is pulling Arsinoë closer, bracing her. His expression goes dark and yet when Neve catches his eye he nods, seeming... grateful?

Weird Crow shit.

"Arsinoë, you need to drink this. Hopefully it will help." Rook shudders against Neve, but Lucanis persists. "Viago is back in Treviso, I promise. He needs to know nothing, but you need water."

"Wait, Viago?" Neve asks, "The Fifth Talon? What does he have to do with this?"

"That's what I want to know," Davrin agrees. It's not like he ever though the Crows were great people, but it doesn't explain why Rook is reacting like this just from seeing Lucanis, why she keeps begging that no one tell the man who is supposed to be her mentor that she... what, accidentally been drugged? That doesn't seem like something a thirty year old assassin should be afraid of, much less to this extent.

Maybe it is the tea. It has to be the tea. Because why else would Rook be acting this way about Lucanis? Normally she's the first to reassure him, to seek him out and assure him that the demon shoved inside his skull doesn't scare her, but now she's refusing to take a cup because he poured it.

Lucanis looks wounded at that, brown eyes gone unreasonably soft and sad. Finally, he hands the cup off to Neve and unbuttons his Crow-purple cape, shrugging it off to the floor. Rook's shoulders slump a little at that, and Lucanis must take it as a sign because the next thing Davrin knows, the man is putting a hand on Rook's knee.

(It occurs to him again that maybe he shouldn't be here, but worry roots Davrin in his spot.)

"Rook, it's just water. I promise, cara. If Emmrich wants to give you a potion, I promise to check it first, but this is just water. I give you my word."

It's probably a sign of trust that despite the fact Rook gets somehow paler at the mention of "potions", ultimately she caves and lets Neve help her raise the cup to her lips. Lucanis reaches for the pitcher again, and she lets him pour more into the cup before her head slumps against Neve's shoulder.

For a moment, the three of them who are sober sit (or crouch or stand) locked in a moment of awkward silence. Arsinoë is never this touchy, at least not when Davrin's around. And even if it's different when she's in private with Neve and Lucanis, it doesn't make her behavior less strange.

"Lucanis," Neve asks finally, when Arsinoë seems to show no further reaction, "What is going on?"

"Rook is House de Riva," the Crow replies as if that answers everything somehow, then adds "They're famous for their poisons, at least since Viago became Talon."

"Esma too," Rook mutters from Neve's shoulder without opening her eyes.

"And the Talon before Viago had a knack for them as well," Lucanis agrees, hand back to hovering over Rook's knee as if he's still uncertain his touch will be welcome. "Though not as much as Viago."

"She said something about daily doses of venoms at the breakfast table," Neve remembers. She looks about as happy about that as Davrin feels.

It takes effort not to turn that discomfort back on Lucanis, but it wouldn't be fair to snap at the man when he's looking at Rook like that. "So what... Rook was more sensitive to the tea because she grew up being poisoned? Is this some kind of bad interaction or-"

"No." Lucanis replies, the reconsiders. "Well, some of it, maybe. But that's not why she was asking about Viago."

Davrin's hands twitch with the need to grab Lucanis's overly decorative lapels and demand a clearer answer, but Neve-

"She's afraid of being punished. Her teacher is a poisoner, and she let herself drink from a tainted cup."

Neve's voice quavers on the word punished, unable to hide entirely behind her normal stoicism, but her eyes are hard, with a glint like steel. Davrin just feels cold again as Lucanis nods in confirmation.

"Yes. Crow houses do not all train their Fledglings the same, but none of them tolerate stupid mistakes. If a de Riva found themselves so easily poisoned, without even checking, I would not doubt that the next cup from their seniors would be punishment and lesson both."

"Bastards," Davrin bites out, thinking of Uncle Eldrin and the berries. The cramps and hallucinations had been the lesson, not the preface for more punishment to come. Intense punishment, if Rook's reaction isn't just the heightened emotions caused by the tea.

Lucanis is still looking at Rook with those wounded eyes, still not-quite-touching, even though she seemed to relax when he shed the cape. But the resignation has crept back into his voice like a weight, and he only shrugs at Davrin's swearing.

"Thus is the life of a Crow. We can't afford to make mistakes. Our teachers know this."

"You won't do it twice," Arsinoë agrees, sound almost like she's quoting something. "Because you remember." Sitting up just enough to sip at the cup again, she still hesitates, eyes fluttering as she glances at Lucanis, waiting for his nod of reassurance before drinking.

Davrin's gut churns at the careless way she says it, at Lucanis's total acceptance.

(He was the one who poured her the tea. It was his idea to ask Emmrich about the truffles.)

"Well." Neve says. "I dare say we've all learned some things today. No need to tell Viago. Or anyone else."

"No," Lucanis agrees.

Rook gives a little sigh at that before her hand darts out to catch Lucanis's. "My head still hurts," she complains.

Davrin turns towards the staircase immediately, suddenly sure he wanted to be far, far away from all this. "I'll go find Emmrich. Assan-"

But the griffon had dropped into what Davrin recognizes as a guarding stance, as if set to protect an injured member of the flock. Well, for once Davrin has no compunctions about leaving the feather brain behind with the Crows. And Neve, of course.

"Assan can stay here as chaperone."

He takes the stairs two at a time, all but bolting towards Emmrich's study. The last glance back before he darts into Emmrich's hallway, he sees Neve helping Arsinoë pull Lucanis out of his crouch and towards the little two seater.

[flame-shadow]

A breakdown of my quirrel!nosk comic from last year (original post here) since I like doing breakdowns and talking about my process, and I know at least some people like reading those things. :)

First of all, a little background. I made that comic in an evening with just a pencil, a black marker, two grey markers, and a yellow-orange marker. (All markers had a thick tip and a thin tip, and all were water-based markers, so they don't blend like alcohol markers, but they can still be layered to affect the values) I had a text post from @g0at0ad saved in my drafts that said "gotta say. massive missed opportunity to not have nosk mimic quirrel to lure the knight into its lair." and finally, I had an idea for how to illustrate the reveal and felt I had a decent idea for the nosk's design.

I wanted to follow the same encounter order as the game provides, and by happy coincidence, I realized that the route from first sighting to nosk den includes the hot spring, so it made perfect sense for that location and the real Quirrel to appear in the comic.

Ghost spots a Quirrel-like figure in the darkness in the first panel, and then as the path continues and drops into the hot spring, there's (real) Quirrel, so clearly that's who Ghost saw a minute ago. Yay, friend! And since Quirrel explores around, it's not strange that Ghost would spot him again in an area not so far away, though it's odd how he got ahead of them. Perhaps a different tunnel? And it seems like Quirrel wants to lead the way to something, so Ghost follows, until- That's not Quirrel.

In addition to the potential of a reader already knowing the game's locations and recognizing the path to the nosk's den, there are other visual clues that subtly communicate that something might not be right. I made it so every panel but the hot spring one has black silhouettes encroaching on the space within.

The third panel is the mildest one being encroached upon because Ghost doesn't yet feel like something is off (still reassured from seeing Quirrel in the safe hot spring) but the trap is coming together. The existence of the spider web in the corner is a nod to the trap because it's a common visual symbol for being trapped.

Also note how both the first and third panels have some safety via straight panel edges. Contrasted with the fourth and fifth panels which have no straight edges as Ghost cannot escape and there is no safety.

Another subtle reinforcement of danger vs safety is how the use of black is very limited in the hot spring panel. It's a brighter room mechanically, yes, but it's also a Safe Room. The only black is Ghost's void parts and a thin outline around Quirrel (and also a bit of shading on his arm that I did out of habit before remembering that I wasn't going to use black to shade him here, oops!)

And, note that in the only panel with Real Quirrel, he isn't framed against a darker shape in the background.

Okay, and finally, I will share a bit about the nosk reveal panel and its design...

This pose and angle are dramatic and all, but they're The Worst for showcasing the actual design of the nosk! Just a complete mistake on my part that I did my best to roll with, since I didn't realize until too late how I'd messed myself up.

Which happens! I don't always get it right, and especially when I'm working traditionally, there's a point where I can't go back, so I just have to make do with what I gave myself. :) I don't hate what I have here, but I have been dissatisfied with it ever since I drew the lineart.

A thought I have had since then was that maybe I should've drawn it larger, to be more threatening? Maybe a different pose to show off the side-body frills? I explored a couple ideas below, but honestly, I think the whole panel would have to be reworked to get it right.

Making sure that the background frames the nosk effectively would be one of the main things I'd redo, but I'm getting tired and don't feel like drawing more, so I'll just leave it at the nosk replacement sketches.

And since I don't think I did a good job with displaying the nosk's design effectively, I quickly sketched some of the features to maybe show them off a bit better.

I like the gimmick of the nosk turning its head, so I pretty much always maintain that with my nosk designs. This one is no exception. Quirrel's head and face become the cranium and upper jaw while Monomon's mask becomes the lower jaw - the extra length causes an underbite. I've always been a fan of when people add a veil hanging from Monomon's mask while Quirrel is wearing it, so that's where the frills come from. ("Why didn't you include the veil in your Quirrel drawings, then?" I hear you ask. And honestly..... I don't know! That could've been an oversight or it could've been deliberate and I just don't remember my justification. That happens sometimes XD)

Anyway uhhh yeah! I think that's it. I like making comics. I like thinking about nosk. Tadaa~

[atinystraynstay]

Sincerity Is Scary - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: Everyone on campus knew Mingyu. He was the guy who all the girls wanted to get one night with, the guy all the guys wanted to be, and everything you wanted. Mingyu and you became friends after a class assignment. It's safe to say though, you have fallen for him when he seems to be interested in other girls. Or at least you think that. "What about you? What are you afraid of?" "Loving you."

Pairing: Frat boy! Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: Angst! A little bit of fluff at the end. Non-idol, friends to lovers. College crush! Mingyu for sure

Warnings: PG-13 - Slight swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual activity mentioned

Word Count: 6.1k

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It was a crisp late November evening. Campus was alive again after students had traveled home for the holidays. Now, it was crunch time on final assignments, final exams, and trying to keep sane at the end of the term.

You were patiently waiting for your study partner to arrive. You had gotten an iced Americano, gearing up to deep dive into your psychology assignment. It was a final project analyzing fear - how it affects people, what exactly it is, and how it could be conquered. Your pink backpack was resting on the chair across from you. A signal to everyone that you were expecting someone, and that the chair was taken. Campus always got overcrowded when people realized they needed to get their shit together.

You tapped on your phone screen to look at the time. 2:33pm. Where was he?

You glanced at the door to find any signal of your partner. Somehow, you guys have worked together at least on one project every term since sophomore year. While he wasn't always the most motivated academically, working with him was a joy on your end. But that might be because of the view of the guy - Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu was the guy that all the girls desired. It helped that he was well-known on campus as his fraternity always threw the best parties. He was someone who was also willing to help out those around you. For instance, he always made sure all the girls at his parties got home safely by either having a pledge walk them or ordering an Uber for them personally. He also cleaned up any mess he spotted or even just offered a gentle smile to someone who crossed his path. They see an attractive guy and then get to know the guy with a heart of gold who wants the best for himself and his friends. They got to know my friend.

Now, I wouldn't say Mingyu and I were best friends. We did have our own separate social circles with very drastically different ideas of a fun Friday night. However, he was someone I could trust. Not just when it comes to making sure an assignment gets done, but he is someone I can turn to when I need a place to vent. He was a safe space from judgment or ridicule.

The doorbell rang, indicating someone was making their presence known in the coffee shop. You peeked up to see Mingyu. His eyes were scanning the cafe, looking for you. He was wearing a grey hoodie, black sweatpants, and a navy blue beanie on his head. It wasn't too cold in November when you didn't want to be outside, but it was cold enough that you could feel the air nipping at any exposed skin. One strap of his black backpack hung over his shoulder. He looked like a model for Abercrombie & Fitch.

His eyes soon found yours and you watch his smile grow. Did I mention that this man has the personality of a golden retriever?

Eyes from other patrons followed as he maneuvered through the sea of tables and chairs. His eyes never leaving yours though. He was determined to get to you one way or another.

"Y/n!" "Mingyu! How was Thanksgiving dinner with Hansol and Joshua?"

He plopped himself in the seat across from you. He let out a puff of air, probably now feeling the contrast of the heat from inside the cafe compared to the crisp air outside. His backpack made a soft thud, landing assumedly by his feet. His right hand reached up to take down the beanie, shoving it into the front pouch of his hoodie.

"It was actually pretty good. Wonwoo made sure Hansol stayed out of the kitchen, so Joshua and I could cook." He let out an infectious laughter that made me weak in the knees. Fuck, I'm down bad for him. "Wish you could have made it though!"

And try not to drool over you in front of all your friends? Pretend I don't have feelings for you? Yeah, no thanks.

"I'm sorry! My folks said I needed to come home, trying to savor every family get-together before applying for jobs and being big scary adults." "Yeah, I get what you mean. The guys have become like family to me. Who really knows where all 13 of us are going to end up once we all graduate." "No plans to keep the fraternity life going after graduation?" I teased. He laughed at my joke, quickly shaking his head. "No, I plan to step back completely after I graduate. Think it would be too sad if I was one of the graduated guys who just stuck around the fraternity house. Or the one that has to keep drinking and constantly talking about 'the good old days.' No, I think I'm ready to be taken a bit more seriously." I couldn't help but smile wider at the thought of the man Mingyu was going to be. Of course, he was already a stellar guy. He was the guy I wanted so desperately to take home to my parents, to present him as my one and only. College was just the beginning for him. Kim Mingyu was destined for amazing things, to do amazing things for this world. I just hoped I could become a part of it.

"So, you ready to get started on this project?" I asked. "Why can't we just sit here and chat? Why is it that we have to get started on the project? It's not due for another three weeks." "Because, I know how you are, Mingyu. You'll throw ragers the next couple of weeks as a final hooray before everyone leaves for a month and then you'll forget about the project until the very last minute which makes us both stressed! If we at least brainstorm and decide what we are going to do, it means less work in the long-run." "And more time for you to come by one of my parties?" I sighed in defeat. Mingyu knew I wasn't the type of person who liked to go out to parties. I liked going to the dive bars with my friends. There was nothing appealing to me about sweaty bodies pushed up against one another in a basement. You couldn't even hear people with how loud the bass was! However, Mingyu has been trying to get me to go to a party since we met. And he's been using that this being our senior year as a perfect way to guilt trip me into going. "And I'll come by one of your parties," I promised. "What about the one tonight?" "Already having one tonight?" "What! It's a great way to welcome everyone back," he laughed. "Seriously. If we are able to decide how we are going to do the project, then you have to come by tonight." "Ok, ok. I'll come by tonight if we both do the work." "Deal!"

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

After an hour of intensive research, you and Mingyu decided on an approach for your project. You were going to interview people on campus to see if there was a common fear among college students. You had some guesses, but you were hoping to find a way to bust those fears that plague most college students.

"I think this might be our best project yet, y/n! I don't know what you think of these types of things. You're so creative."

Don't blush, y/n. Don't give yourself away.

I smiled politely in return, a laugh bubbling out of my throat. "I just like creating work for you to do. You know I'm the type to take allllll the credit for every assignment," I teased.

"Oh right. Because you know the moment I do things a certain way then you'll just jump in and try to do the project all by yourself." "Hey! That was sophomore year y/n! I think I've gotten a lot better since then when it comes to group projects," I pouted. "You have. Trust me, darling. There's a reason why I always come back to you," he winked.

Oh, there he goes again. Mingyu the Flirt. I was going to slip one of these days, let him and all of campus probably know my secret if he keeps it up. And the worst part was that it wasn't just an act. His was just naturally flirty.

Both of us were beginning to pack up our backpacks. Our laptops had slid into our backpacks before they zipped up in unison. It was getting close to 5pm, and if I was expected to be at Mingyu's tonight, I had to get home and get ready. Not that I was banking one tonight being the night things finally work out for us, but I didn't want to seem like a slob.

"So, you coming tonight, Ms. Anti-Fraternity?"

I sighed and nodded. "Yes, Mr. President, I will be there."

He smiled wide before swinging an arm around me. Oh god dammit. The universe was testing me. "That's the spirit, angel!" He began leading the two of us out of the cafe, side by side and pulled into his side. I was trying my best not to look like a deer caught in headlights by his gesture. I'm surprised my legs haven't given out at all from the series of events that are unfolding right now. Sure, Mingyu and I were close, but he's never been this bold with me. What is he up to?

I could feel eyes on us as we made our way out of the coffee shop. Some girls were whispering to one another, glancing towards us. Other guys looked at Mingyu with shock. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole to prevent me from embarrassing not only me, but also him. Keeping his arm around me, he used his free hand to push the glass door open.

"You're too kind," I said playfully. I offered a gentle smile as I detached myself from Mingyu so I could step over the threshold. I glanced behind me to see if Mingyu was following but froze when I saw he didn't. He was still standing by the door, leaving it open. Instead of just holding it open from someone coming in, I caught him at the start of a conversation. He was talking to Jennie.

Now, Jennie and I didn't have any beef. She was in our psychology class, so we ran into her often. She never joined our study sessions, thank goodness, because she often preferred to study with her sorority sisters. However, she knew Mingyu outside of class as she was always trying to set up mixers and pre-games for football season with his fraternity. Jennie had sensed that Mingyu and I were close, so oftentimes, she would approach me asking if he was still single. She was trying to gather her intel before making a move.

"Excited for the party tonight, Mingyu! Want me to come over early to help set up?" She took a step closer to him. Her hip brushed against his which caused his eyes to widen. His grip slipped from the door as he was holding the edge, closing the door on me. "Oh, I didn't really think of that. I was just going to get Seungkwan and Dino to help me, maybe some of the pledges." That was the last thing I heard before the door fully closed. I was now on the outside looking in. Time froze as I watched her take another step forward. She blocked his view of me. Her hand gently reached up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it. She wore a playful smile while Mingyu smiled, or at least tried to. I would like to think that I knew him well enough to tell his genuine smile apart from his fake one. All I could see was him nodding before she began leaning in.

Okay, that's my cue. I quickly spun on my heels to walk in the direction of my apartment.

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"Are you sure the dress isn't too short?" I mumbled.

I was walking to the frat with my roommate. She insisted that I shouldn't go alone. Not sure if it was because of my retelling of the events that transpired outside of the coffee shop or the fact she wanted a good laugh at me attending my first frat party.

After seeing Jennie with Mingyu, I ranted to my roommate about everything. I was frustrated with the circumstances where the two of us would never work out. We are two separate people who make awesome friends. I didn't want to jeopardize that. It was also partially due to the fact I could not bring myself forward to confess to Mingyu how I was feeling.

Her solution was simple - dress to kill. "If you can't say how you feel about him, make him realize what he's missing out on. You gotta go out there and steal his attention."

The look that could kill was a rather short red dress. It was a sparkly red which would be able to be noticed even in the dimmest of spots in the hell I was about to enter. A frat basement was somewhere I thought I'd never end up, but here we are. It hugged my curves perfectly and had sleeves that were cuffed at the elbow by an elastic band. I wore a pair of beat-up sneakers, so I could be comfortable for the evening. This wasn't a formal event. This was about making Mingyu notice me.

"To be honest, I think it could be shorter. But you're not trying to sleep with him, just get him to notice you, right? It's enough to let his imagination run wild," she smirked.

I rolled my eyes at her antics yet kept a light smile on my lips. It was a good idea. I just felt so out of my element, so I was trying my hardest to warm up to the idea before stepping foot into the party. I wanted to come across as confident as ever, to catch his attention, and to make him realize that maybe I have a chance compared to the other girls he's been with or at least seen around campus with.

After 10 minutes walking, we arrived at the frat house. There were a few people loitering around outside. Most girls were wearing ripped jeans or very short black skirts. There were a few fraternity brothers gathered up at the front, a few I recognized - Joshua, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol. They were looking across the groups gathered outside of their residence, probably trying to see how they could minimize the appearance to avoid cops showing up. Yet, Wonwoo was looking directly at me with a smug girl. He was probably the closest with Mingyu so I knew him the best.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He called out to us. Some people on the sidewalk and the two guys beside him looked our way. I groaned internally at Wonwoo's commotion before approaching the entrance of the party.

"How the hell did Mingyu convince you to come, doll?" "I lost a bet to the devil." "Well, you can go ahead inside. I'm sure Mingyu is keeping an eye out for you." "Oh come on, he probably sensed her already out here. He was basically buzzing off the walls when he was telling me we would be graced with y/n's presence tonight," Seungcheol laughed. "Be careful, y/n. I heard he likes to bite," Joshua teased.

I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from blushing hard. It's not like I haven't fantasized about him like that before.

The three guys grinned at me, stepping out of the way to let me and my roommate through. Instantly, we were greeted by groups of people all drinking, mingling, and dancing. You could hear the bass from downstairs through the floor, as we were on the main floor.

My roommate pushed me through towards the kitchen. I looked at her puzzled, thinking the initial plan was to find Mingyu. "You need a drink to loosen up first, babes. Trust me. You look terrified right now, not sexy." I just nodded as we were found ourself in a somewhat crowded kitchen. Yet, there was a pathway to the collection of alcohol on display - tequila, gin, vodka, rum with a plethora of mixers. Definitely Mingyu's idea to have more mixers than alcohol, so everyone could drink to their comfort level.

We were by the kitchen island, almost in our own little world. The groups around us were quickly grabbing their refills before either moving away to a different part of the house or to the main event in the basement. Before I could even process anything, a shot glass was placed in front of me, seeing my roommate looked at me with a wicked grin. "Choose your poison, y/n."

My eyes scanned the liquor before reaching towards the tequila. My hands were about to grasp the handle but I took a quick surveillance. Where could it be? "Looking for these, princess?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see the man of the hour, Mingyu. In one hand, he was holding a container or salt, and in his other hand was a lime. Speak of the devil. He was wearing a black shirt and black pants. A gold chain was around his neck. I would love to just grab that chain and tug his lips close to mine. Okay, I do need a drink. ASAP.

"How did you know?" "Feel like I know you pretty well, but still wasn't sure if you were going to show up tonight. I figured I would still prep just in case. Welcome to my kingdom," he teased.

He crossed the room to be where were. For a moment, I could have sworn his eyes traveled my body. First at the dress before looking up and down my torso and legs. I had spun to face him more directly. It was then I could have sworn his eyes were on my chest before he made eye contact with me. He set the salt and lime to my right, in between my roommate and I. His other hand rested on the countertop to my other side, somewhat caging me.

"You're just full of surprises. First, disappearing on me at the coffee shop, but now actually showing up to my party? And now wanting to do tequila shots?" "Just scratching the surface," I smirked.

My roommate shared glances between Mingyu and I. But before I could introduce her to him, she stepped back completely. My eyes widened slightly but she wore that same smirk from before. "I think I'm gonna let you two catch up. I'm going to go talk to that one guy outside," she announced. I couldn't even argue with her to stay before she headed out of the kitchen.

"And then there were two," Mingyu announced. Seeing as my roommate had wondered off for her own adventure, Mingyu placed his hand fully beside the salt and tequila. I was fully in the lion's den now.

I mustered up the courage to look him in the eyes. It was then I noticed that the entire kitchen had cleared out. When did that happen? Did people just leave seeing Mingyu walk in? The thought of him having that type of authority made me weak in the knees.

"Wonwoo wasn't lying when he said you looked absolutely breathtaking tonight, baby," he murmured.

His hand to my right moved to rest on my side. His fingers slowly trailing up and down my side, teasing the waters. His touch was light, almost not there. It was enough though for electricity to shoot through my body, making me hyperaware this was reality and not some fantasy.

"You talking about me to others now?"

He leaned forward, enough so he just had to bow his head down to be at my ear. "You're all I talk about. You don't even know," he whispered. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, enough to cause goosebumps to form and shivers to run down my spin. If it wasn't for the countertop pressing into my back gently, my knees would have given out.

"Come on, I have something better than just doing shots all night," Mingyu said. He reached down to grab onto my head, lacing his fingers with mine. His touch was warm and soft, sending shockwaves through my nervous system. I didn't get a chance to question him where we were going before he led me out of the kitchen. He just turned back towards me and gave me a wink. Oh god.

We made our journey through the frat house towards the split staircase. One that went down to the basement and another that went upstairs, assumedly where the guys slept. People who saw Mingyu turned to try to strike up a conversation but stopped when they saw me by his side. Some girls were throwing daggers in my directions with their harsh gaze. Jennie being one of them before she turned her back to talk to her sorority sisters. How the tables have turned. I expected that Mingyu was going to take me to the basement, but was met with surprise when we started ascending up the staircase. A few of Mingyu's brothers started whistling and howling at the sight of Mingyu with someone.

From in front of me, I heard Mingyu sigh and watched as he shook his head. "I'm sorry about them. Just ignore them. They wished they were getting some action tonight, but I think we both know the only date they'll have is with the toilet when they drink too much."

I laughed at Mingyu's joke. "No worries about it. I guess they are just showing support for their friend?" "Yeah, I guess so. I just don't want you to lump me in with them."

What was that supposed to mean? I never viewed Mingyu at the typical frat guy. I didn't hear stories about him just sleeping after a party and dumping a girl the next day. Sure, he has been linked with a few people, but he didn't seem like the type to do one-night stands. He wasn't the guy who made jungle juice with unknown liquors that could get you fucked up fast. He was meticulous in what was distributed to his party, often hoping people bring their own alcohol so they know what they re consuming. Or at least that's what he told me.

Mingyu soon led me to his bedroom. He walked in through the doorway, but I found myself froze. Was my perception of Mingyu wrong this whole time? Were we just going to fuck? Did I mean that little to him that he was willing to throw our friendship away.

He must've felt the slight tug of his hand due to me stopping my movement. He turned his head back, trying to assess what was wrong. I stood by the doorway, trying to pull my head gently out of his grip.

"Gyu, I don't think this is a good idea. We're friends. Us sleeping together-" "You think I brought you up here to just have sex? Doll, I'm hurt," he gasped. I watched as he playfully placed his hand over his heart. "You think I'm that much of a horny bastard?"

I quickly shook my head before rushing into his room, stopping short of where he stood. "Gyu, please. That's not what I meant at all. I just didn't know why else you'd bring me up here when the party is downstairs? Isn't that why frat guys bring girls upstairs? To fuck?"

He smirked seeing how flustered I got. My cover was slowly unraveling, my motive of having him chase after me being flipped where I was starting to chase after him. "Y/n, you've seen too many movies," he laughed. "Besides, I'd never do anything to jeopardize losing you."

I could feel my cheeks becoming hotter. I hoped at least that was being concealed under the darkness of his bedroom. He stepped back and headed towards his bedroom window. "Do you trust me?" He asked. I nodded my head slowly, trying not to come across as too eager. Any sort of dignity that I could preserve at the moment is of upmost importance.

"Good." Mingyu flipped the lock at the top of his window. He pushed it open all the way until there was a soft thud of the window hitting the top of the window sill. He stepped out onto the roof with ease. He then turned back towards me, a hand reached out to me.

"The things I do for you, Gyu, I swear," I huffed. I took his hand, my other hand trying the best to keep my dress from flying up.

"Watch your head, gorgeous," he called out. This time, his tone was gentle and soft. It was a stark contrast being outside where you could barely hear the music from inside the house. I stepped over the window sill carefully, one foot down before the other following. I was somewhat hunched over to avoid hitting my head. Mingyu took it upon himself to use his free hand to hover over my head in case I did end up standing up too soon.

Once I was over the window and onto the roof, I stood up straight. My eyes widened from the view. "Oh wow," I breathed out. You could see all of campus from up here! You could see the tall oak trees that lined up around campus. You could see the various academic buildings and the college town beside us.

What really took my attention was noticing that there was a blanket sprawled out on the rooftop. Luckily, the rooftop was leveled and next to the fire escape, so there was no worry of slipping or anything. The blanket was added for comfort. I also noticed that there was a bottle of my favorite white wine Moscato chilling in a bucket. There were also string lights that decorated the ledge of the rooftop. It was it's on oasis.

"Come on, angel." He squeezed my hand gently before guiding me towards the blanket. I followed him gently to the blanket where I took my seat, my legs tucking underneath me. Mingyu joined me on the right side, sitting rather close. "Wait, hold on."

He popped up from the spot on the rooftop before heading towards inside. I frowned a bit when he left me alone, but turned my attention to the scenery outside. The warmth from inside the house still radiated throughout my body, so the crisp air of the November evening didn't bother me as much. My eyes ran along with the stars, trying to see what constellations I could make out. It was peaceful out here.

I jumped a bit when I felt something brush against my legs. I looked down to see a leather jacket, but relaxed when I noticed it was Mingyu dropping his jacket over me. I tilted my head back to see him looking down at me, a fond smile on my lips. Yet, there was something in his eyes. Maybe it was the glow of the lights outside making them sparkle more than usual or something on his mind? Either way, he was breathtaking. "Quite the gentleman, Gyu," I teased. "Thank you though." "You know I'd do anything for you. That's also why I set this up for you, for us, really. I know large crowds like the one happening inside aren't your thing, so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable being here." "So you don't do this for every girl?"

Mingyu snorted a bit, chuckling lightly under his breath. He pulled out two red solo cups, handing one to me while keeping the other by him. "No, y/n. Only the best reserved for you."

Carefully, Mingyu twisted off the cap of the wine bottle. He first poured the wine into my red solo cup. I couldn't help but giggle at the notion of drinking wine out of a red solo cup, something that typically holds cheap beer or mixed drinks.

"So that's why I'm getting a red solo cup? To really get the experience of being at a frat party?" "Hey, it's the best I could do," I laughed. "You really trust me with anything breakable?" "No, you're right. If it was a wine glass, you would've dropped it by now," I laughed, taking a sip of the wine. "I told you I'd do anything for you."

I kept my wide smile hidden once from Mingyu when I took a sip of the wine. He was quite the charmer. I placed the Moscato down behind me, by the corner of the blanket to avoid spilling. Mingyu did the same as we both seemed to gaze out at the world around us. It's crazy to think that in a short few months, we'll be saying goodbye to this place. This place has become my favorite place filled with my favorite people.

"So, y/n. What happened early? Why did you just leave the coffee shop?" Mingyu asked suddenly.

My eyes widened at the question. "Oh, you noticed?" I asked softly. My head dropped to look at my lap. "I thought you were busy talking to Jennie. I didn't want to interrupt."

"If anything, she interrupted us," he sighed. He then reached for his cup and took another sip. "Is that what you're afraid of? Being rude?"

I shook my head, picking my head up slightly. No, if only you knew what I was afraid of.

"I'll tell you what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of being alone. I love my life as it is right now, but I'm afraid of the uncertainty that comes with the next chapter," he confessed. He was leaning back on his hands now. His gaze shifting from the view of campus below to me. "I'm comfortable knowing I get to see my friends, get to see you. What am I supposed to do next?"

I frowned hearing his concern. "Gyu, whatever you do next, you're going to do great. I know it's scary about moving away from what you are familiar with. What I can say though is that knowing you, seeing you grow over the past two years, has been remarkable." My hand reached over to rest on his knee comfortingly, giving it a light squeeze. I looked at him directly in the eyes, hoping he could sense my sincerity in my words. "You're a great guy, Gyu. Don't doubt your capabilities. You can do anything you put your mind to."

His gazed looked down towards where my hand was on his. I followed suit. Oh no, did I make him uncomfortable? I was about to retreat my hand from him, but he quickly grasped it gently. "Thank you," he whispered. He lifted my hand to kiss the back of it before letting it rest in his lap. His grip on my hand was loose, in case I wanted to slip my hand away. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"What about you? What are you afraid of?"

I took a deep breath. Mingyu just poured his heart out to me. I would be a hypocrite if I didn't say something, especially when I told him to put his brave face on and be determined to get what he wants. I deserve to at least try, right? Or I could end up regretting it for the rest of my life? That's at least what people warn about.

His gaze on me was soft. He was patient as he waited for me to muster up my truth.

"Loving you," I confessed. "Loving me? You're afraid of that? Why?" "Gyu, let's look at what you did for me tonight alone. You went through the trouble of setting up basically a separate event just for me. This is the shit they write about in romance novels. It just doesn't happen to girls like me!" "Wait, let's back up first. Do you like me, y/n?"

Oh god, oh god. Why did I open my mouth and say something? Maybe I could spin it off that I'm afraid of commitment in general? What if I spun it that I was trying to get over an ex and I was shocked by Mingyu's kind gesture? That he already treats me better than any ex? I mean, there is some truth to that. Mingyu was better than any ex I've had.

"Y/n?"

My mind was trying to wrap around some sort of lie I could tell to save myself. Before I could finalize my lie, I felt a hand on my face. Very slowly and gently, I realized Mingyu put his hand on my face. He was turning it towards me. I also noticed that he had moved closer to me now. He was sitting up tall, his face hovering over mine. He tilted my head up so I had to look at him in the eyes.

"Y/n, do you like me?" "I might have the smallest, tiniest crush on you," I whispered. "How do you think that we could conquer that fear?"

I raised an eyebrow, about to pull back from here. He was really thinking about our final assignment right now? "Because you took the first step in confessing your feelings for me. And you said you were afraid of loving me. It seems seeing if I have the same feelings for you is the best way to conquer that fear." "Well? Do you?" "Baby girl, I've had feelings since our first group project together."

His forehead gently rested against mine. He could probably hear my rapid heartbeat at this point. "Why do you think I've always picked you as my group partner?" "Because I'm smart and can get stuff done?" I laughed, trying to ease my nerves. He chuckled at that joke. "Well, yes, because you are smart. You're also very kind, insightful, determined, and gorgeous. You are the girl that I've been trying to get to come to my party so I could finally make a move in the element I feel most comfortable in. If anything, I'm afraid of you." "Afraid of me? Mingyu, you're 6'2." How can you be afraid of someone who is barely 5'5"?" "Because you are too perfect to me. I know what people think of me. They see the frat president who sleeps with people. When they see you, they see the girl who is going to move mountains when she graduates. They will wonder why you settled for a guy like me?"

That's it. I was not going to allow him to slander himself. Feeling bold enough, I moved Mingyu's jacket off of my legs. I set it beside me before gently climbing into his lap. One hand rested on his shoulder to stabilize me as I got comfortable. My other hand moved to rest on his cheek, now being the one turning his attention towards me.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around me. He pulled me in close, tightening his arms so I wouldn't fall backwards by mistake. My heart picked up as I felt my breathing become a bit shaky. Was this actually happening? "If you saw what I see, you would see that you are everything that I want. That's why I'm afraid of loving you because you seem too good to be real," I confessed. "Well let me help you overcome your fear by proving to you this is reality."

Mingyu leaned in slightly. He stopped himself short, where his lips were brushing against mine. He looked up into my eyes to see if I felt comfortable. My heart melted at the simple act of checking for consent. See. He was one in a million.

Taking it upon myself, my lips pressed against his fully. I could feel his smile against my lips as he tilted his head ever so slightly. Just enough for our lips to be pressed together perfectly, causing the kiss to move smoothly as our lips were catching one another's. His lips were just as smooth. He tasted like wine mixed with a bit of mint chapstick. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. This was actually happening. My one hand slid from his shoulder to rest on the back of his head.

He was the one who slowly broke the kiss. I pouted playfully, as it ended far too soon for my liking. He chuckled lightly before pecking my lips.

"Don't worry, darling. There will be more kisses." "That wasn't so scary after all," I confessed. "I'll help you conquer any fear of yours if you let me."

[dsireland86]

The Things We Could Never Change Chapter 1 (revised)

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Sophie:

Life was a whirlwind. So much had happened to me and so much had changed. I’d said goodbye to a life that was abusive and toxic, giving up everything I’d known to be true for years. I never realized just how bad it all really was until Noah came into my life, knocking down everything around me like bowling pins. I’d begun to realize that once I’d accepted the things I could never change and change the things I could, I'd be happier and able to finally take that long deep breath I'd always long for. After allowing myself time to heal and adapt to this new life, I found life to be enjoyable again. I was happy. Really happy.

Surrounding myself with people who weren’t toxic was the first step to my recovery, so my therapist said. So I did. Taking Noah up on his offer months ago, I moved in with him and the guys, temporarily, until I could get my life in order. It was a little weird at first, but I adjusted quickly. Noah would sometimes sneak into my room, crawling into bed with me, just so that he could hold me close to him. He said he couldn't understand it, but he just felt better holding me. It was sweet. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. And even though I never said it at that time, Noah knew I felt the same. 

The guys quickly became my friends, then pretty soon like family. Their sweetness and acceptance of me into their world was refreshing, something I didn't know I needed until it happened, and it really helped me move past all the trauma and bad memories. I began to trust and rely on them for support and strength especially during the really hard times when bouts of my anxiety would rear up. Sometimes they were a little too intense, leading me into a depression that would linger for a few days. It worried the guys, Noah and Folio especially, and they’d try to help. Noah wanted to make it all better and make it make sense somehow, but I told him it wasn’t possible. None of it would ever be all better or make sense, that it was just the way it was; how I was, but he never seemed to fully understand, and it became aggravating. The therapy and medicine didn't cure me, it just helped me manage it which was as good as it would ever get. We’d argue about it but in the end it just simply came down to the fact that we were both very broken people who were trying to fix each other instead of just accepting. So, we promised each other that we'd work on it; together. But that didn’t stop the frustration or the feelings I’d bottle up inside until my therapy sessions. Jolly would sometimes intervene and break up the argument, while Nicholas became Noah’s reasoning, and Folio, well he became my reasoning, but also a lot more. I didn’t notice it at first, but gradually over time, I became aware of it, I never said anything about it, never thought about addressing it or putting Nick in an awkward spot. He was too sweet, too kind to me to do that to. I just let it be, and took the friendship and the flirting as it came, knowing he’d never cross the line if I didn’t want him to. But, after some time, Noah became aware of it, too and that’s when things between me and him started to get more serious. 

Almost everything that Noah and I did, we did together. We became connected at the hip, as Jolly called it. It just was much better having someone to enjoy life with, now that I was freely able to do it how I wanted to. Our favorite things were Ramen restaurants and Anime marathons where he'd always give me one of his hoodies to wear (that smelled just like him) because I was always cold. I'd curl up into him because he was much bigger than me and occasionally I'd fall asleep, always waking up in my bed. Noah and I loved being together and eventually I wasn't afraid to tell him he'd become my person. But I was shocked when he told me I was his, too. And that was that. We were together. Things between me and Folio began to shift, feelings eventually settling into place and lines drawn. He said he wasn’t at all surprised about what Noah had admitted to me, knowing how he felt from the very beginning when I first met all of them. Nick seemed cool with it, played the part of the supporting friend well, but I knew how he really felt and it was obvious each time Noah and I would fight or he’d say or do something that made me upset. Folio became protective of me which seemed to only piss Noah off more, yet making him come to his senses faster. He began to apologize quicker or even catch himself before the argument could get too out of hand. I’d joke by saying how jealousy looked good on him which led down to tickling matches and make out sessions. But the words he said months ago would echo in my head from time to time, making me wonder if he was actually serious. “I’ll fight him, and I’ll win.”

Six Months Later

Sophie:

I could feel his tall, dominant presence behind me before his long arms slipped around my waist, pulling me close to him. I was sitting at the breakfast bar, working on some write ups for work when the weight of his body against me came out of nowhere making me smile instantly. Noah rested his chin on the top of my head watching my fingers type. “You need a break.” “I already took one.” “Well, you need another one.” “I have a deadline,” I smiled, knowing what he was trying to do. “So do I.” “Oh, do you?” “Mmm-hmm.” “And what deadline does Mr.Davis have that requires my assistance,” I smirked, looking over my shoulder just a little. Without speaking, Noah took my right hand, gently pulled it behind my back, and placed it on his crotch, wrapping his big hand around mine and closing it tightly around his semi-hard length that twitched beneath my hand. I inhaled deeply, my arousal soaking the center of my panties immediately. Noah and I hadn’t had physical sex yet, due to the sexual history with my ex, but that didn’t stop all the other things that came along with needing sexual fulfillment. They were the things that Perry and I never did unless it was all forced. With Noah, none of it was ever forced and he willingly gave more than received. Noah’s hands traveled up under my shirt in search of the soft flesh they were looking for, completely distracting me from the work task laid out before me that I no longer cared one bit about. I wanted what he was giving; pleasure. Pure, erotic pleasure.

My skin was burning, my heart was racing, and my sex was aching to feel Noah’s hands all over my body so when they found my breast, grasping them like he owned them, the uncontrollable moan that escaped me made him groan softly in my ear.

"You feel like fucking heaven under my fingertips, Princess," Noah whispered in my ear, peppering my face and neck with kisses as he began to massage my breasts. 

"And you smell so fucking good. I want to eat every part of you," lightly dragging his tongue over my skin and nipping every inch that his lips came in contact with. “I know something you can eat,” I hinted, feeling the deep low growl vibrate against my back as he nuzzled my neck.

“Oh I know you do, and it's delicious, too,” he smiled. I whimpered at the feeling of my panties getting wetter. Noah’s weight lifted off of me as his hands found the hem of my shirt and pulled it up, removing it entirely. His hands immediately went to my breasts, pulling up my sports bra just enough to message the pebble flesh beneath it. I bucked my hips when his fingers pinched my nipples, making me bite down on my bottom lip too hard. I made a sudden, sharp sound accompanied by a hiss.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asked, leaning over and meeting my cheek with his. I was laughing through the pain as he began to massage my breasts again. The pain seemed to no longer exist."Yeah, I just bit my lip too hard.” 

Noah clicked his tongue.

“If you want something to bite, baby, I've got something you might like,” he said darkly. 

“Oh my god, you’re impossible,” I whispered, throwing my hand behind his head and pushing his face closer to mine. Noah smiled and kissed the tip of my nose before touching my lips with his fingertips, sliding them down my throat, and landing on the soft mound of my breast again, giving it a soft squeeze. His pupils dilated and jaw clenched from watching the way I responded to his touch. It made him bite his own lip. 

He continued making his way down until his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my sweats. I parted my legs just enough to give him more access to the place we both wanted him to go and felt the light hum of approval vibrate off his chest when his fingers found the spot. My body turned, looking for the friction I ached for from the warmth of his hand. Noah kept kissing my jaw, my cheek, and then coming back to my lips while his seductive whispers made me tremble, purely aroused. My body burned for him, ached with a need that I wanted only him to fill. I whimpered, clamping my hands down to the edge of the counter when his fingers grazed over my wet middle. “Shh, got you, baby,” Noah assured, pulling me closer. It sent shivers down my spine. “I wanna feel how wet you are for me," finally rubbing my sex with his fingers pushing hard against it and making the muscles in my thighs tighten around his hand. I softly cried out, stimulated already from the feeling. Noah wasn't showing any remorse or hesitation in letting me know what he wanted, and I could tell by the urgent way his fingers grabbed at the flesh between my thighs, gripping and stroking, that something was weighing heavily on his mind. He was seeking the need to be wanted, I thought, the assurance that I wanted him and everything that came with him, no matter how great or terrible it might be. 

"Are you okay," I asked softly, placing my hand over his that was buried between my legs and locking my fingers around the other one draped across my chest. His cheek rested against the side of my head and the pressure of his clenched jaw told me he was overthinking again. 

"How do you do that? How do you know when I'm not alright?” he asked in a tight voice. I was a little shaken at the shift in tone. “I just do,” was all I could say. A few silent seconds passed, and Noah took a deep breath. I wasn’t prepared for what he said next. “I don’t want to lose you, Sophie.” His voice was stable now, confident like his mind was made up. I squeezed his hands, hugging him tighter.” “You’re not going to lose me, Noah,” knowing in time, if he wanted to, he’d tell me what he meant by what he said.” 

I reached behind me and brought my hands to his neck, sliding them up the sides, behind the back of his head, and through his freshly cut hair, tugging him down a little more so I could have access to his lips. Noah's quiet moans were my weakness. They had become my validation that I was good at making him happy and satisfied, and as I slid my tongue into his mouth and tasted the faint flavor of mint, they got a little louder. "I like the taste of your lips," I mumbled in between kisses and felt his lips curl up into what I knew to be his precious smile. His body tightened around me, his hand between my thighs squeezing my sex some more and making me squirm."Noah, please...," I begged. The coiling tension between us was too much and I was losing my will to fight him with every move he made on my body. 

"You know I hate it when you tease me like this.”

"If you hate it so much, then why are you moaning for me?" he cooed, stroking my neck with his fingers, before wrapping them lightly around it, squeezing. "Shit, Noah, please," I swallowed hard, despite the grip he had on my throat. My nerves were on fire and I was quickly losing all composure. Noah, once again, had me aching for my climax. "Please, what baby? What do you want from me?" releasing the chokehold on my neck. He already knew what I wanted; he always did.

"You want me to make you cum,” he teased. The hand he still had between my legs, began to rub my sex again, stroking the very spot he knew would have me begging for his mercy. 

"Say it, princess, tell me what you want me to do." Noah's plea sounded just as desperate as mine. I was panting, completely ruined and vulnerable in Noah's hands, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

"Please, make me cum, Noah, fuck please," I whined, tightening my grip around his neck. He huffed a small laugh and hugged me tighter. "What, like this, is this what you want," sliding one long finger deep between the crevices of folds and pushing into me.

 I softly cried out, dropping my hands from around his neck and wrapping them around his legs, digging my nails into the tender flesh of his thighs, as his fingers pumped in and out of the center of my pleasure. Noah drew in a short breath through his teeth, wrapping his other hand around my throat. "Your nails fucking hurt,” he nervously chuckled, before slamming his wet, pouty lips into mine. Our tongues met, starving for the taste of one another's. Soft, breathless moans escaped me repeatedly as Noah continued pleasuring me. The heat between us just from this was so magnetic, I couldn’t even imagine what physical sex with him was like. Taking my hand, he placed it on his hard cock encouraging me to grip and squeeze. 

"That's where your hand stays until I make you cum. If you remove it, I stop," sliding another finger inside me and using his thumb to make the magic circles he knew would have me cuming on his fingers in a matter of seconds. I completely collapsed into him, throwing my head back against his chest. His fingers slid in and out of me, thrusting so far up he hit my cervix, making me cry out in the most satisfying way possible. He curled and twisted his fingers, stretching my walls as if preparing me for the moment he would slip his cock inside me. 

"Shit, Sophie, I can feel you, God you're so fucking wet for me," he panted, throwing his hand to my neck again, but squeezing hard this time. My oxygen was suppressed and as Noah continued plunging his two long fingers in and out of me, my vision began to grow hazy, but I never removed my hand. I grabbed what I could and pressed him tighter in my hand slightly moving his length around. Noah's moans hit me right in my soaking wet core as he finally eased his grip around my throat. 

"I know. Please don't stop Noah, I’m so close, I'm almost there, baby" I cried breathlessly, rolling my hips to make him go deeper. "I love making you feel this way, Sophie. I love knowing I'm the only one who gets to watch you fuck my fingers like this and come undone." My cries were closer together and I knew I was just about there. "And when you're ready, I’m going to work your walls open, thrusting my cock inside the tight folds of your broken mind and penetrating the sweet softness that is you, until I release all my love deep inside you. I'll fuck every part of that fucked up piece of shit out of your mind Sophie."

Crying out Noah's name savagely, I found his lips and attacked them like a ravaged animal as tears slid down my cheeks, my climax almost reaching its end. "Cum on me, Princess, so I can taste you off my fingers.” That was all the encouragement I needed. With one more hard thrust onto his fingers, my orgasm hit me so hard that nothing but a string of curses came out of my mouth. "Motherfucker," Noah breathed and bit my earlobe, pulling it between his lips and then letting his lips fall to my cheek and then my neck. "You look so beautiful when you cum." He squeezed me tighter as his breath caught in his throat. I was utterly wrecked and my legs were shaking so much, noticing once Noah slid his fingers out of me. His eyes darkened the second his finger entered his mouth and his tongue touched the saltiness of my juices. "I love the way you taste, baby," smiling against my face, "so sweet and all mine." I grinned shyly, still not used to his praise when it came to sexual intercourse. Perry never gave me praise. After dressing myself, I turned around to fully face Noah just in time to see the remaining traces of darkness caused by our arousal fade. His hair was disheveled and his lips were swollen and pink, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. I sighed with a smile. I reached over and pulled him in between my thighs, unnerved by the mess covering the front of his shorts. "See what you fucking do to me?" I held Noah’s face between my hands and kissed him, casually slipping my tongue into his mouth and pressing it to mine. The feeling of him kissing me back always made me weak in the knees and was something I would forever love. I ran my hands through his hair and locked them behind his neck, hearing Noah sigh heavily. “I fucking love it when you do that,” he moaned, lowering his head to my shoulder. I grinned. “What, this?” running my hands through his hair, again raking my nails against his scalp. “Yup. That,” he said immediately, making me chuckle.

Noah raised his head and looked at me as if he was trying to memorize every part. Suddenly, I found myself very self-conscious. “So beautiful,” I heard him whisper. I shook my head and looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. “Hey, look at me,” he insisted, slipping his finger under my chin and turning it to face him. “You are,” he assured me. His sweet smile made his eyes dance, and I wanted so much to believe him, but was struggling with it and covered my face in my hands. Noah pulled them away, and brought them to his chest instead, holding them there tightly. “Don't you dare cover your face, especially not from me,” he scolded, gently. “You've spent too much of your life hiding that beautiful face because of…” but he didn’t finish his thought. I stared at him, patiently waiting for him to finish.. “Yeah, well, you know,” he finally said, seeming a bit irritated with his thoughts, but I knew what he was thinking about. Noah bushed the loose hair out of my face, forcing a smile. He was fighting hard against something, most likely the same thing that was bothering him earlier. I touched his cheek to remind him I was there, sliding it down his cheek. Whatever was going on with him, I knew he’d tell me, but in the meantime, I had to do something to prove to him that if he was to give me everything, I had to do the same. "I'm ready Noah, I'm ready for you to have all of me.” The expression that crossed Noah’s face was priceless. “Sophie, are you sure? Don't you think,” “I have been thinking, Noah! That's all I've been doing! I want you. I need you, now.” The truth just flowed out of my mouth, fear no longer controlling me. I stared up at him. “I’m through with waiting.” “Are you sure?” he whispered, coming closer to my lips. I took a breath and whispered, “Yes.” Like magnets, our lips came together, willing and eager. I pulled Noah into me causing him to have to straddle my lap as his hands tangled around my face and then my hair. I really did want all of him. His secrets, his pains, his joys, absolutely all the things that made him Noah. My hands traveled to his ass hearing a low grumble the moment I touched him and tugged on my shorts. “Fuck, Sophie,” he breathed, almost falling into me.  “Noah, I want you,” I whined. Desire took over me, causing me to pull part of his shorts down and running my hand over his skin. “Sophie, baby,” he mumbled against my lips. He fell to his knees and cupped my face, kissing me hungrily. “You own me, baby. You fucking own me; body and soul,” he confessed, almost crying. “And everyone is going to know it.” I looked at him, shocked. “Noah, are you sure?” “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure about anything before in my life.” I threw herself into his arms, clinging tightly to him. “Noah, let's go upstairs, please,” I begged him. If this was going to happen I didn’t want it to be out in the open.

Thankfully, Noah pulled me to my feet, leading me towards the stairs, when his phone rang, scaring the crap out of both of us. “Motherfucker,” he groaned, taking it from his pocket to see who it was. “Fucking Matt.” He silenced the phone, sliding it back into his ignored pocket. “He can wait,” Noah said, kissing me so intensely it took my breath away. Without warning, he picked me up and headed towards the staircase only to have his phone go off again. “Seriously,” he yelled, frustrated now. The look Naoh was giving me was one of desperation. I sighed. “Just answer it, and go clean yourself up,” I laughed, pointing at his shorts with his excitement stain from earlier. “No,” he shook his head, “I'm just going to ignore it again.” He took me by the hand, but I pulled away. “Don't. He's just going to keep calling or worse show up. Just answer it. We'll have time for us later.” I kissed him, laying a hand softly on his arm. Walking back towards the kitchen, I chuckled, listening to Noah already tearing into Matt. I stopped to look over at that stool, smiling when realizing I was never going to forget what happened on it. It was a relic in our relationship now. My eyes teared up, thinking about how far I’d come since last year. I never thought I’d escape Perry and his evil clutches of hate and abuse towards me, but I did, and it was only because of Noah that I did. I owed him my life. Wiping away the tears that had escaped my eyes, Noah’s voice came from behind me, startling me so much that I jumped. “Holy shit, you freaking scared me!” I exclaimed, turning around to face him and clutching my chest. “Were you crying?” The concern in his voice was endearing, but the look on his face made me feel like an earthquake had hit my heart. “Noah, what’s wrong?” “Why were you crying?” ignoring my question. His tone shifted quickly, no longer concerned, but questioning. “It was happy tears, I promise, Noah, what’s wrong? And don’t you say nothing. I know you well enough to know when something isn’t right.”

Noah squeezed his eyes closed while pinching the bridge of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he moved his hand to his forehead and left it there. For a moment it seemed like the weight of the entire world was sitting on his shoulders. “Remember when I said I don’t want to lose you?” he asked, meeting my gaze. His eyes were glistening with tears. It made me a little anxious. “Yeah, I do,” I answered, taking a few steps towards Noah. I waited before reaching over and touching his arm, in hopes of comforting him because he seemed a little different somehow, almost as if he was afraid. He was trembling, no longer looking at me, and his breathing was hard. I knew these signs well. Noah was panicking. “Hey, Noah, tell me what’s wrong?” I asked gently, taking his hand in mine and holding it tightly. I wanted him to know I wasn’t going anywhere. “I ah,” he began, his voice a little shaky, “I need to tell you about Sarah.” My muscles tightened at the sound of another woman’s name falling from Noah’s lips. “Okay, sure,” swallowing hard. “Tell me about Sarah,” I said, calmly. Noah raised his head, huffing a laugh as he ran a hand down his face. “This is just so unfuckingbelieveable. This shouldn’t be happening! She told me she’d be gone from my life forever!” Noah ran his hands through his hair, scrunching it in his fists. “Wow, okay baby, take a breath with me,” I encouraged, caressing his back. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.” “You don’t know that. You don’t know Sarah and what she did to me,” Noah snapped. My thoughts were scattered as I tried my best to divert him from going into the darkness. In the whole year I’d known him, seeing Noah in a panic wasn’t normal and it was breaking my heart to see him so vulnerable. “You’re right, I don’t, so what don’t you tell me?” “She was my fiance. We were going to get married shortly before the release of the third album.” Noah returned to his full height, wiping his face. Noah. Engaged? Married? Holy shit. I placed one hand on my hip and the other over my mouth. “Oh. Wow! What happened?” Noah opened his mouth, but hesitated. “I can’t, I’m not ready,” he stressed, shaking his head. I nodded. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I don’t know, I have no idea,," "Noah, stop. Why are you apologizing?” “Because this shouldn’t be happening!” “Okay, I get that, but so what that it is. We’ll get through it; together.” Noah looked at me odd, brows folding together. “Together? Are you sure?” “Mmm-hmm, I’m sure.” “But, but, why, I mean, I haven’t even told you the whole story about Sarah and what happened between us. What if I do and you decide you don’t want to be with me.”

I stared at the floor for some time, agreeing in my head with the truth of Noah's words but what he wasn’t seeing was the other side of it all;  my side and what I already knew. After everything that he’d seen me go through, he stayed with me, promising to never give up and walk away. I was determined to do the same thing, because, if I was going to be completely honest with myself, I was falling in love with Noah, if I hadn’t already. “Okay, look,” I started, taking a deep breath. “You’re right, I don’t know the whole story, but I don’t need to know. Whatever happened in the past is the past, Noah and it’s not going to change anything. The man you are now is obviously not the guy you were then with her, and that’s it. That’s all the reason I need.” Noah shook his head, clearly baffled. He couldn’t meet my eyes again and his voice was quiet, carefully choosing his words. “I don’t know if we’re capable of what you’re saying, Sophie. I mean this could get messy; the emotions, the drama, I don’t want to bring you into anything that you’ll regret coming into.”  “Hey,” I said, taking his hands in mine and squeezing. “Look at me.” He did and for a moment I forgot what I was going to say. Noah’s dark chocolate eyes were taking in every inch of me with a look of wonder. Blinking a few times, he pulled me closer and the steady beat of his heartbeat was a lullaby. “I got addicted to you, Noah,” I said softly, my voice shaking, “attracted to you in ways I can’t explain. And I care about you and appreciate you more than you will ever know, and honestly, I can’t think of anyone other than you. You’re the first and last thing on my mind each and every day. You're it. You're my person and I don't care how much drama and shit there is. If this woman hurt you, broke you in ways you couldn't come back from, then she's in for a real treat when she sees me. Girls like her only come back around for one reason only, but she's never going to get what she wants because you're mine now, not hers.” The back of Noah’s hand came down against my cheek so tenderly, followed by his fingertips. They traced the curves of my face as if trying to memorize it. “Sophie…” his raw voice wrapped around my heart like vines. “I don’t deserve you.” “Yes you do; more than anyone.” Noah grinned, tracing my lips with the pad of his thumb. “The day I met you was the luckiest day of my life. You’re the brightest part of my world, and I feel like you’ll always be.” 

I stood on my tip toes and kissed him, wrapping my hands around his face. “Then you be the guide and I'll be the light, and together just like we did with my ex, we'll get through it.” Noah kissed me again then wrapped his arms around me. With his face buried in my neck, he said the words I wasn't prepared to hear. “I love you, Sophie. I fucking love you so much.”

[ghostpajamas]

DUUUUUUUUUUDE your alcohol marker works r SO sick i saw that sequence of process pics u had and my mind was just Blown . can you elaborate more on ur process ?!?!? /nf

hello ! thank you for your kind words. i apologize for taking a while to answer this. the process of coloring the drawing i did as an example was rocky, and ive been busy with school.

i'll preface this by saying that i have a few posts with process pictures on twitter (i treat it as a wip dump when i remember to post). heres one of the few where the pics are all together, but my media tab has a fair amount scattered around.

this is going to be long, so i'm putting the 'read more' here.

step 0 : sketch. i start with blue erasable pencil, lighten it, and do my lineart with a mechanical pencil.

step 1 : base color. half frivolously chosen as a neutral color to set it off from the white of the paper, half "whats the color of the light / the lightest color being reflected by the material its cast on"

im going to stop numbering the steps. i immediately went too dark with the hair and failed to consider the strength of the light in the setting / how reflective hair is. also i colored the basic color of the eyes and the rough shadow under the jaw. dont get attached to any of this.

broke out the "ph. martin's bleed proof white paint" my mom gave me a jar of years ago. it does well enough at bringing back light, but the texture youre left with is not ideal. lightly shaded the face skin with a similar color. i also blocked in the rough color for the suit jacket and tie here. the marker doesnt have to be evenly applied because you'll be going back over in enough layers that it'll even out.

i wish i stopped here.

things start to go off the rails. painted over his eyes because "why did i give him double eyelids" tried to paint over just the eyelids. didnt go well. scorched earth. reshaded the hair, deepened shading on the face and neck, started on the shirt, and applied a cursory pass of shadow on the jacket. the light angle does not remain consistent with this.

redrew the eyes. the angle feels uncanny. i wish he was still looking at his phone but the paint is not taking ink well and i doubt another layer would make it better. at some point i applied rough shadow to the hands. dont worry about the inconsistent lighting.

darkened the eyes so they were less creepy. didnt work. i assume the ink bled (alcohol ink soaks into paper, but since this is now on top of white paint, it just sits on top and pools out), so i embellished with posca marker to cover it up.

realized that with the length of the shadow the brow ridge was casting, the hair should cast a shadow too. light source starting to be established.

im really sorry. i didnt realize there was such a drastic jump between this one and the prior photo. basically, i started defining edges and areas of deepest shadow. fine edge definition was done with the cheapest ballpoint pen i own. dark marker blends fairly well, but only put it where you WANT it to be that dark, and blend outward from there to darken surrounding areas. many, many layers of grey and light blue, brown and darker brown for the jacket. now that i had a vague idea of the light source, i just had to place the shadows and follow the folds. hitting the points of shadow with brown (base color but darker + warm tinge to suit base color) and blue (reflected light).

this also wouldve been a fine stopping point.

used posca to outline the edge of the face + sharpen edges. added more pupil-spots. messed up the mouth some more. whatever. calling it done here because the jacket looks good and the face is freaking me out.

overall, i treat alcohol marker like watercolor. a big wash of color, rough base colors. roughly block in shadows, gradually add washes of deeper shadow. define edges. etc.

its harder to blend colors directly than with watercolor but thats nothing more layering cant fix. and then white paint if layering doesnt work. and then more layering.

[justsigma-bsd]

Memories Of Red, Staining The Mind

Yet another memory/nightmare short story. Also very much my first attempt in describing a scene in the way I did.

No idea what possessed me to write this, but I did manage it in one day.

TW: Human Traffickers, Violence, Death, Blood

He was shoved into the interrogation room roughly. There was a metallic taste in his mouth from where he'd been biting his lip, but he paid it no mind. His attention stuck on the grey tarp in front of him, in front of the chair that was always in the room. 

The air, too, had an odd metallic smell to it now that he thought about it. Almost like the rusty bars of his cell, or the chain connecting his shackles. 

"We want to try our hands at a little experiment today, Exchanger" 

His face twitched slightly at the nickname, but he kept his gaze forward and on the tarp. Refusing to acknowledge the name he was being called yet again. 

It wasn't like it was the only name they called him, but this one especially reminded him that his ability of exchanging information was the only reason he was still here... and that he didn't even have a name to begin with. 

Slowly, his eyes wandered over the tarp. His stomach did a weird flip when he noticed the rough shape of what it was covering. But... no. He was being too hasty. It couldn't be a person, right? 

Heavy hands landed on his shoulders, yet not as heavy as the shackles digging into his skin. "I'm sure you'll do your best, no?" the voice was uncomfortably close to his ear, and he offered a quick, jerky nod. Almost immediately the simple weight on his shoulders changed from simply heavy to an ever so slightly painful grip. 

"Yes Sir" he found himself saying, before the man could reprimand him. The grip relaxed, but he didn't dare to let himself feel relived. Not yet. The hands vanished, and his 'boss' strolled past him. There was an odd shine in his eyes when he grabbed the tarp. 

When it was pulled away, his assumption was confirmed. It was indeed a person. One of his fellow prisoners, if he remembered correctly. He couldn't remember her name, though... and he couldn't help but think that she'd seen better days. 

Her skin was unusually pale, safe for the bruises of which he surely had perfect matches. There were large spots of crimson soaking her off-white clothes and once blond hair, and it made his stomach turn. Slowly, his gaze wandered to her face. He found her eyes wide open, staring off into nothingness. 

"She's..." he trailed off, sick to his stomach. He wanted to throw up, but he doubted he could. He hadn't eaten since his latest mess-up a few days ago, after all. "Dead" 'boss' hummed in confirmation, but he didn't seem all too concerned of that. 

Dead. 

She was dead. 

Void of life. 

He knew of death, as a concept. It was entirely different, jarring, to actually see someone who's life had left their eyes. 

He'd barely spoken to her before they'd put him into the cell on his own, but he could perfectly remember her voice, her optimism. Could still remember how she'd promised they'd all get out of this place together, one day. That hadn't been long into his stay, and he hadn't even fully understood why they'd want to get out. 

Ever since unlocking his ability, he understood perfectly. 

His chest ached when he realized that she'd never leave this place and would never spread her optimism again, although he couldn't explain why. 

He felt the urge to ask "What happened to her? Why did you kill her?", but a single glance up to his 'boss' left him snapping his mouth shut with a sharp click. Right. No speaking out of turn. He'd already done so once, which was bad enough. 

He knew better than speaking without being prompted. 

He should be better than this. 

Something hard, perhaps the muzzle of a gun, dug into his back and he fought down a wince, stumbling closer to the body. "Come here, sit" 'boss' sounded unusually excited, and he felt his stomach flip yet again. He didn't want to sit, but orders were orders. 

"Your skill allows you to read and take information, isn't that right?" 

The question felt useless. They both knew the answer, after all. Still, he murmured a soft "Yes Sir" and stared down at the ground. It was the only place where he could look without having to stare at who once was a fellow prisoner. 

"I want you to try and read Seven's information" 

That wasn't her name. Seven wasn't her name, it was just a number. The same number painted on the back of her shirt, if he were to turn her over. It wasn't her name, nor her identity. He wanted to say that, wanted to shout it at his 'boss'. She was dead, couldn't at least death free her of being nothing but a prisoner? 

But he refrained from lashing out, instead dug his nails into his knees. It would do more harm than good to say anything, he knew that much. 

His gaze wandered to his hands, and he felt sick just at the thought of doing this. What if it didn't work? Would it be counted as yet another failure on his part? But even worse... what if it did work? Would this become part of a new routine? 

No. No he wouldn't let them. Even if it did work, he wouldn't tell them. Not this time. 

"Which information do you need, Sir?" he murmured, and hovered his hand over a stiff, pale one. For a few long seconds he thought that he wouldn't receive a response. Then: "It's only an experiment. Take whatever you want" 

He frowned slightly, unsure. Not daring to touch the lifeless hand just yet. Because what even was he supposed to choose? He hadn't known her, not really. Idly, he wondered if it even mattered what he chose. It either wouldn't work, or he'd never tell. 

I want to know what Death feels like.  

The thought was sudden, morbid. He felt ill just thinking of it, but at the same time... he couldn't help but wonder. He knew pain, he knew hunger, he knew thirst and he knew exhaustion. All of those could lead to death, he knew that very well. 

It was one of the things made clear to him on the regular. His life could end any time they wished, any time they deemed him too useless. 

He didn't want to die, but part of him was curious what it felt like. What it had felt like for Seven. 

His hand touched down, the question hammering in his head, and he stared at the wall. Refusing to look at Seven. 

Perhaps that was why, at first, he didn't notice a different after the information washed over him like a wave. It wasn't much information, not enough to knock him off his feet, that's for sure. Or so he thought. 

'Boss' circled past him, and he felt confusion creep through his mind. Only slowly did he realize that he was sitting tied to a chair, and his heart sank when he realized his horrible, horrible mistake. There was a very strong difference between wanting to know and wanting to experience. 

He wasn't a silent watcher on the sidelines in this memory, who'd watch someone die. 

No, he was watching with a front row seat, from Seven's eyes. 

He hissed in pain when a hand roughly yanked his head up his hair, but it wasn't his own voice, nor of his own volition. "Seven, Seven, Seven... I thought you knew better than to try shit like that" 'boss' tutted, his expression impassive, "you know that your little stunt would end in this, didn't you?" 

He wanted to ask what she did to deserve death, but instead his mouth opened and the voice was yet again not his own when he spoke, lips pulling into a smile that he doubted to have ever had on his own face: "'Course I knew the consequences. Was worth it, though" 

"Perhaps you think so, but I'd say keeping you around was quite the pointless endeavor" 

There was a flash of silver, and he felt his heart sink. Or perhaps he felt Seven's sink. He couldn't tell where his own consciousness started and where it faded into Seven's memory. 

And then there was a sharp, sudden pain. A pain that left him feeling sick. Left him wanting to curl up. To pass out. Seven glanced down even as he mentally begged her not to, and he wished he could just simply close his eyes. There was a knife, piercing right through his ribs. And it hurt. Every single breath hurt. 

He - or rather Seven - coughed and the metallic taste in his mouth left him wanting to throw up. Something dropped down from Seven's mouth. A small splatter of red on white clothes. Then another and another. 

Seven coughed and hacked, blood steadily bubbling and dripping from of her mouth and he felt her getting weaker, felt the way she was slowly choking, drowning, on her own blood. 

Her death was violent, and it was painful. So, so painful. He doubted he'd ever forget. He doubted he'd ever be able to banish the pain and feeling from the depths of his mind. It was an experience he'd forever keep. 

It left him even more terrified of his own fate. He didn't want to die. Especially not like this.

The second he was expelled from the memory, he scrambled back, away from the body, only to turn and land on his hands and knees. One hand firmly pressed against the spot where Seven had been stabbed. Dry heaving and shaking as a sob tore itself from his throat. 

That was Death, and it was terrifying. 

A hand grabbed him by his hair, but he was too out of it to properly react until a harsh slap connected with his face. Stunned he froze, breath still fast, panicked and shaky, but his eyes found those of his 'boss'. 

There was no need for lying. 

His reaction was answer enough. 

Sigma shot upright with a strangled gasp, a scream stuck in his throat that he just barely managed to suppress, his chest heaving. His eyes were wide and he flinched when he felt something wet on his cheek, running down and gathering on his chin. He reached up a shaking hand and wiped over his face. 

Under the faint moonlight he couldn't spot anything dark on the tips of his fingers, and there was no smell of iron or rust tainting the air. 

Tears. Just tears. No blood, just tears. 

He hated that memory. He hated knowing what dying in such a manner, to such an injury, felt like. He hated that he had even been capable of experiencing it. 

Perhaps he hated his ability, too. 

Another tear rolled down his face and he scooted back on his bed until his back hit the wall, drew his legs up and against his chest. His blanket half-tangled around him. 

Sigma still felt sick. He always did, after that particular memory. It was one of the worst ones he had. Even now, after three years. He barely stifled a sob, his eyes burning. 

He rarely let himself cry, but in the dead of night, behind closed doors where nobody would find out? 

Well, nobody needed to know. 

The answer to his question was simple: Agony. 

[have-a-omo-time]

I had an omorashi dream last night that I wanted to share.

So, it started off like my nightmares (because I've been having a spike on those recently), but I found someone in the dream who.. Very clearly needed to go.

I'm talking squirming around, bending at the hip, crossing their legs- They needed to go. And I started chatting them up, because they were also really pretty and I'm a sucker for pretty people.

We talk for a bit, and their squirming has not let up at all. It only gets worse. So badly, they have to go, they leak into their pants (light grey leggings, I think) and keep talking with me. I'm flustered at this point, but keep talking, until the go still. They stop squirming, their legs aren't crossed but tightly pressed together, and it took me a moment to realize:

They're absolutely flooding their pants.

And oh my God, that was a pretty sight. They apologized to me, still wetting, and I think I cupped their cheek and told them it was okay.

After that, the dream shifted and morphed (because, ya know, dreams do that), and I'm in a dress. It's a long dress down to my ankles, black, with a corset bodice, and I'm wearing pants underneath (they felt like leggings).

And oh the gods above, I needed to pee. Trying to act fine while my bladder complained was amazing. I rubbed my abdomen area as well and could feel the bulge of my bladder through the dress. And I had to stand at a nice event and act as thought I wasn't bursting for a piss.

And I did, for the most part.

I leaked, majorly. One of those leaks where it feels like you'll never stop kind of leaks. Down the inside of my thighs and past my knees, but I stopped it before I could make a mess.

And because this was a dream, it stayed warm.

Another, smaller leak made the spot expand, but I still held back as much as I could.

The event dismissed and I bolted out of the door, squirming and shifting and crossing my legs- Fuck, I needed to find a bathroom right then and there.

Instead of that, however, I looked around and got looped into helping with something, and never got my relief.

I was even offered drinks in the dream that I took, still bursting, and never went to find a bathroom in the dream.

Forever, that version of dream me is bursting for the greatest piss of his life, that he'll never be able to get until I have that dream again.

[clonemando]

Mace Has a Tooka

(was feeling the love for Master Windu in the Chili's tonight and this fic just typed itself. Enjoy!)

Her name was Regal and it suited her as she sat primly on the arm of Mace's beat up old couch observing her domain with a calm disdain. Mace had been working on flimsy work so the pads still littered the table and several cushions of said couch and also the floor and Mace knew she hated messes. It was clear to him even without a Jedi's ability to connect to animals that she was judging him for leaving the mess so long.

"You don't get to judge me when you don't help with any of the chores." He said with a huff but started stacking the completed forms in a pile. She daintily licked one of her little claws and rubbed it over one of her brown speckled ear cones without looking at him.

"I should have told Depa to leave you in the trash." He grumbled and earned a deserved side eye from the creature for the comment.

Regal had been brought to his quarters when Depa was just a padawan and had found skinny matted tooka crawling through the garbage and had dragged it back to beg Mace to help it. She had promised that once the tooka was cleaned up and healthy she'd find it a home. He should have sensed the trap as it was laid.

He did realize his mistake the night he heard Depa talking to the creature and addressing it by name but by then it was too late. Thankfully Regal had a compatible personality to the Master of the Order. She preferred to share quiet company and a tidily kept space- despite or perhaps because of her previous life outside. She suffered no fools in her home and had once driven Qui-Gon Jinn up into a tree hissing and spitting at the man when he had barged into Mace's quarters during a bad migraine episode unknowingly. Mace appreciated her passion in either caring over him or annoying Jinn.

He had worried when she had disappeared from his quarters after the start of the Clone Wars thinking maybe she had finally come of an age for her species that he needed to accept she had gone to join the force in private to spare him pain.

Instead, Ponds had found her somehow in Mace's quarters on their ship with three kittens suckling at her stomach. Lightning had taken no time at all in sharing holos their new mascot and the kits to the entire GAR.

Depa had eagerly taken a little silver kit saying it was a sign from the force it belonged with Grey.

Plo had pretended to deliberate several days before agreeing to take the burgundy and silver spotted one but there were quickly posts of it cuddled with Wolffe both napping under Plo's cloak.

The last kit was white and red in a pattern that looked just slightly too close to the Coruscant Guard's armor that he couldn't help but enlist Hound's help in sneaking it into Fox's office.

Mace shouldn't have been surprised when Regal's offspring had apparently taken one look at Palpatine and went nuts tripping the Chancellor down a flight of stairs where, according to the unified accounts of the Guard, his lightsaber activated and he was unfortunately impaled upon it.

Mace didn't ask any further questions and accepted it despite the fact he had more than 18 stab wounds when the Jedi examined the corpse.

Running a hand over the soft fur, he took a moment to smile softly. Then he yelped as she bit his hand and flicked her ears toward the datapads he had gotten distracted from cleaning.

Yes, Regal lived up to her name.

[moodymisty]

Hey there,

Congrats on your milestone. I love seeing your stuff come across my dash. If it isn't too much trouble, may I request: " You look so hot when you do that. " with Wrecker?

Honestly, there's so many scenes this could apply to. A personal favorite of mine is when he does that loosening up / neck crack before he fights. My soul leaves my bod-...shit, I'm rambling.

Anyway congrats again and looking forward to seeing what you come up with

❀ Milestone prompts list ❀

Author's Note: Same wavelength, you and I. Feel free to ramble about Wrecker any day because that man... /swoon (also omg thank you so much for the kind words, I'm so happy you enjoy any of the silly stuff I put on your dash XD)

Relationships: Wrecker/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Subtly hinted at Jedi!Reader, Fluff, Flirting

"I like the new look."

Hunter jerks his head in your direction, and you look down over yourself. You've always been partial to darker colors, but the black and dark grey of your new robes almost perfectly goes along with the palette of their armor, funnily enough. You shrug.

"Well, I had to match. Couldn't just go around sticking out like a sore thumb." He gives you a small, lopsided smile and nods. "Hopefully, it doesn't get singed like the last one." Hunter turns and gives Wrecker a look, who in response he holds up his hands and relents; But it's not as if he needed to in the first place.

"We're landing in 10. Make sure you have everything you need." The planet you're bound for is in view, and it won't be long until you're on solid ground again. Hunter returns to his spot by the navicomputer and leans over the controls, doing something undiscernible as you prepare to finally land.

It hasn't been that long, but fresh air is still desperately wanted. And some room to spread out, as Wrecker stands beside you and stretches his arms, almost bumping into multiple parts of the ship. You feel cramped and stuffed tight in this ship, so you can't imagine how he deals with it. And for much longer periods of time, too.

He lets out a grunt as he fixes his one shoulder, before trying to crack his neck. He gives it a few rolls around before leaning it hard to one side, and then the opposite.

Even with all of his armor but his helmet on, you can see the way his muscles flex above the collar of his bodyglove. The veins running up either side of his neck, or the bump on his throat.

It's... Distracting.

If anyone were to take a look at you they'd know you were quite obviously staring, and with quite an incriminating expression to boot. Thankfully when Wrecker turns towards you however, you have your composure back.

"What?" He looks down at you as he cracks his knuckles next, one hand before the other.

You and Wrecker have a little bit of an odd relationship; Usually involving plenty of joking around and silly flirting. It's something that's progressed over time and you don't know exactly where you both stand in it all, but it's fun. He's sweet, and you enjoy being around him.

It also helps that he's so easy on the eyes, saying the first words that tumble out of your mouth and not remembering where you are.

"You look so hot when you do that."

Wrecker grins, and Crosshair turns around in the co-pilots seat to look at you, and all the sudden you realize that the two of you aren't alone.

You want to melt into the floor.

"Oh yeah?" He nods, smirking while he pulls at his shoulder in another position; But you can see some of his shyness peeking through. "I'll uh, keep it in mind." His smile is a bit softer now; As much of a confident dynamo as Wrecker is, sometimes he has trouble taking genuine compliments.

The airlock is a few steps away, if I just throw myself out of it...

He's still stretching, and the relieved moan he lets out when his shoulder finally gives way and releases gets far too twisted in the gutters of your mind.

You only manage to pull yourself out when you have to, as Hunter returns from messing with the navicomputer and you quickly turn to him.

"Everything going well?" You say, hoping he doesn't notice the way you and Wrecker are both acting. But who are you kidding; There's zero way Hunter didn't here.

If only Wrecker would stop smiling at you like that...

"There's a small storm forming right over the base, so it might be a bumpy landing." Hunter looks between the both of you, his usual tired expression more so exaggerated than usual.

"And keep it on the down low, you two?" You purse your lips tight, looking at Hunter.

"Yes sir."

[dreaminmetaphors]

Baggage 'n' Stuff

Don't mess with people's stuff. I got reckless one day long ago, showing off some sweet moves, & I accidentally jump-kicked a friend's dream catcher. A thousand one nightmares came screaming out, & I got caught in the rip current. Hey! A couple of those had been mine, probably from sleep-overs. Strange how you never really know if there's magic in the world until you break a spell. We were magic. Did you ever know that? It felt like you were already looking elsewhere in the moment it broke, so maybe you didn't see. You don't have to be Simone Biles executing a wolf turn to know: balance is important. Rare is the romance where your desire for one another is matched just so, and nobody falls off. For the next few months, I carried hopes for our reunion in the bags under my eyes. People asked if I was packing for a long vacation. Then took my vacant-stare reply as a Yes. I waited so patiently, watching the end credits roll, expecting the teaser for a sequel that never came. I missed you more than a 7-year-old boy misses the toilet. Time is its own special magic. Less the bully who punches you in the face, more the annoying little brother flicking your arm: "Does that hurt? Does that hurt? Does that hurt? Does that hurt? Does that hurt?" I used to pluck each grey hair, tape it in a notebook with the date & name of whoever gave it to me, but it felt weird to be practicing my autograph, page after page. One day I remembered to think about her & realized I hadn't been talking to her in my head, also that she'd slipped from second-person to third. You ever see someone who's irreverent enough to "swear to God" when they're obviously lying but, in doing so, discover that they actually do believe more than they realized & get real nervous? That's the tremulous surprise I had in realizing: Y'know, I could be happy with someone else I maybe haven't met yet. Months later, I flew to a wedding on an island. Normally, I'd have taken along what little of her I had left, but the good times were more than I could stuff into my carry-ons, and... have you seen what they charge for even the first bag you check? Maybe with elite status I could have brought 'er along, but I'm just me, so I left her behind, Discovering that with any break-up, both of you have to do the dumping eventually. It's just a question of who goes first, and then a long wait to see when the other catches up. I guess it always took me too long to catch up to where she'd already been, until that day I didn't. Walking along the shore might have reminded me of thinking of her (On an island, you can go round & round.) But instead I stopped and picked up another nightmare that washed up just ahead of me. It was one of those teeth-falling-out ones that I've heard about but never had. I gave it to a nearby fisherman who skewered it on a hook and fed it to a fish who became his dinner. I guess we all find bad ideas tempting sometimes. It's easy to get hooked on one. The secret is letting 'em go, which is tricky because they're hard to spot until they break ya for a spell. If only there were a dream catcher for bad ideas. Hey, maybe that's what humans are. And that's why we all have so much baggage. Just in case that's true, I strongly recommend: a little kindness when dealing with others. You never know what people are carrying around unless you start going through it yourself. And I think it's better if you just... don't mess with people's stuff.

[dectech]

a spoopy little Rain World thingy

I wrote most of this over a discord chat, and it didn’t really port well over to tumblr format, so sorry if it’s a bit of a mess in some places. Also, it gets pretty long, and it’s about corpses in Rain World, so I’ll be putting it under a cut a few paragraphs in. 

So, I’ve been thinking about the nature of corpses in Rain World recently. I'd imagine, living in the rain world universe, you'd occasionally see your own corpse around, right? A fairly grisly sight, but not a completely alien one like it’d be in our’s plus, if you're still around to see it, then of course it's not that bad in the end, just a little unpleasant, and if you're in a situation like survivor's, where you've been separated from society, or are otherwise living and dying in a generally unsafe situation, the sight of your own corpse may even be somewhat common just one of those casual, uncomfortable things in day-to-day life

but...

but imagine seeing your own corpse in a place where you don't remember dying

imagine seeing your corpse in a place you certainly haven't even been before

as common as the experience of death is in Rain World, it still isn't something that's forgotten easily and yet on closer inspection, it most certainly is your body it bears not merely the color of your scuggy body, but also your clothes, and all the little things that make up your appearance, from scars to birthmarks,  so...

“...what on earth is going on here?”

These are the thoughts running through Survivor's head shortly after they crawled through a random, obscure pipe and into what appears to be a large, open facility of shipping yards, cargo bays, and warehouses.

Upon their arrival, what immediately struck them was the total lack of color. From the cold concrete beneath their feet, to the dulling of the paints on all the warehouses and shipping containers, to even the light of the sun through the overcast, the place was unmistakably grey. It seemed like such a simple characteristic to the environment, yet it was in complete contrast to everything they'd seen before

Everywhere they went previous, there was at very least some splash of color here and there, from rotting, ancient decorations to new life sprouting from the remains of the old and that lead them to the second strange thing about this place; the total lack of life There was an intense sense of desolateness that filled the air in place of the scents and sounds of a place more lived-in and even in the concrete they walked on, though it had shown signs of seasonal wear-and-tear from weather and entropy, it was clear that such was all the wear-&-tear it had seen in a very, very, long time for one reason or another, it seemed this place had sat unoccupied for years upon years upon years, possibly even before the ancients had left. That was until Survivor discovered their own body in a place it shouldn't be.

Previously, Survivor had been motivated into traversing the Hollow Shipyard out of what it could possibly hold. Who knew what bounties those cargo containers could hold? What old stories hidden in data could be lying around in a place that would have seen so much activity, so much passing through? Furthermore, the shipment of cargo necessitates transit. Perhaps there was some way beyond, to a place where their family, or at least a family, could be?

but now, as Survivor stared down at a Survivor they didn't remember being, dread began to settle in their gut like a lead pearl. Paranoid "what-ifs" began to creep into their head For example, it seemed not even the ancients had went here in a long time, relative to the date of their ascension. What if they had a more dire reason to abandon this place? Why was there nothing here? Was there some kind of toxic chemical leak here, from the cargo or something? Was it something worse? They considered turning around and leaving on the spot, but...

Well, not being here apparently didn't stop them from... dying there without realizing something very wrong was going on, and it would continue happening even without their presence, it seemed. At least if they kept investigating, they might have a chance at figuring out what to do about it, if there even WAS anything that could be done  

They pressed forward, and now that they first saw it, they couldn't unsee it. the ground was littered with their own corpses, even in places they could have sworn they'd walked right over. Okay, perhaps it would be best to leave sooner rather than later, they reasoned. They decided they'd just open a few of the shipping containers, see what's inside, maybe loot them, scrounge around for some pearls for Moon, if they can find any, and head right back. Who knows? Maybe they'd open a container to find some barrels of toxic waste, and Moon'd say that one of the effects of the toxin is amnesia or something, and they'd never have to come here ever again. they pried open the doors on one of the shipping containers, and what they saw froze them in place near-instantly.

 it was covered & filled, wall-to-wall, even floor to ceiling in some places, with mutilated corpses, and nearly all of them were Survivor's, at least, alongside a few faces they didn't recognize, and others they wish they didn't.

Mauled, tortured, disembowled, impaled by rebar spikes stuck in the wall, you name a horrible, gory way to die, and you'd see an example in that sheet-metal cave And what's worse is how it was so plainly clear none of it was post mortem- they all had expressions of horrid agony on their faces. As The Survivor was stuck staring, they couldn't help but realize how they'd all been fused together, a fact almost hard to notice just from the sheer mass and chaos of the pile. They were connected by globs and strands of silky, white flesh, although it mostly seemed to depend on the color of the slugcat it was sprouting from, in the odd case of a corpse that wasn't Survivor's It was reminiscent of parasitic Rot, but this wasn't Rot. although Survivor couldn't have known it at the time, deep down they just knew that this was worse than Rot. much worse Eyes wide, heart pounding, Survivor slowly and carefully shut the door of the shipping container, sliding the metal bar that was the basic locking mechanism back in place, as if afraid the corpses would somehow wake.

As they turned to leave, this fear was realized All of the corpse seen littering the ground previously had begun to twitch and writhe. Beneath them, those same silky strands, now exposed as the bodies tried to roll over, sank into the earth, like the roots of a much larger organism. Behind them, they heard a “choir” of what vaguely resembled a struggling attempt at wheezing and the unmistakable sound of shaking metal.

The shaking escalated until it was undeniable that the entire shipyard, with what had to have been thousands of containers, was rattling and shaking as if caught in an earthquake, the psuedo-wheezing now having progressed into an ocean of terrible sound, the wails of the damned, with a force that had to have been tens of thousands of voices strong, flooding Survivor's ears like deathrain

So much of that hell-choir was their voice, good lord, why was so much of it them? why them?! they didn't think about why so much of that auditory hellfire belonged to them, as the sound of several metal bars and locks breaking in unison sent them running faster than they ever had before they didn't think about the rhythmic pounding of what could only be the footsteps of something massive rushing forward to meet them they didn't think about the shadow that suddenly blocked out the sky above them they didn't think about how, when they inevitably did end up catching a glimpse of a giant, psuedopod-like appendage coming down to earth, it was nearly all white they didn't think about how the cries they heard behind them were not of anger, not war-cries, but universally cries of misery, fear, and unknowable pain they didn't think about the other faces they saw in that container they didn't think about the other faces they recognized they didn't think about the hints of other colors amongst the white they didn't think about the hints of blue & pink, they didn't think about the spiny patches of dark violet, they very much didn't think about the hints of black and they absolutely didn't think about the hints of yellow they didn't look back they didn't look back despite everything, they didn't look back despite the voices of others they recognized becoming more and more prominent, they didn't look back despite being able to pick out the voices of the ones they cared about with increasing proficiency, they didn't look back despite being struck by the thought of corpses like tree rings, the ones you see are merely the most recent victim, and perhaps there is no bias towards Survivor at all, perhaps the ones they care about have been favored just as much-

-no no, they didn't think that they didn't think that, and they didn't look back they didn't see their faces they didn't see so many faces  they didn't see them in so much pain

so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so much p a i n

they didn't, they didn't, they didn't they didn't despite how much the vivid memory of the sight was burning itself through their psyche, as it would continue to do for the rest of their life, they swear to god they didn't they didn't drop to their knees, finally broken, finally reduced to a sobbing mess under the force of it all, a lead brick on the back of a rain dear already carrying a mountain of hay they weren't summarily subsumed into the mass, damned to eternal suffering in a hell with no god to offer salvation nor devil to give any meaning to the suffering, just suffering, suffering until your mind broke and devolved into an incoherent mess and what remained was whittled away at until there was no more “you” they weren't they didn't look back they just ran they ran back to the pipe they came from they crawled as fast as they could through the pipes as they were followed by a rush of liquid flesh they ran and crawled and crawled and ran for felt like lifetimes until they reached the other side they were tired, yet they could still sense the pursuit, and so they continued until they found a cherrybomb, stuffed it in their mouth, and bit down until a pop turned their skull into colored rain.

with a shock like lightning, they awoke in their shelter once more

and there lay an eerie silence in the cold morning of the cycle as they performed the chore all who experience death have to do in the morning: determining if that was a real death, or a nightmare

they'd experienced death and they'd experienced nightmares, and that didn't feel like any nightmare but it couldn't have been real. they refused to believe it was real. it had to have been merely a strangely vivid nightmare

  so  when Survivor went to see moon, and moon despaired that they hadn't visited in over a year, when Survivor clearly recalled visiting last  cycle, what more were they supposed to do but break down and sob?  

[kalevalakryze]

Back In The Warzone

Fandom: Star Wars – All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV) Pairing: Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer, Minor Bo-Katan Kryze/Ursa Wren Warnings: Injury, Blood, Violence, Ahsoka Episode 4, PTSD, Trauma, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort Notes: For @whumptober 2023 Day 1. It’s short, and I couldn’t not add fluff, because they deserve it Prompt: Swooning | "How Many Fingers Am I Holding Up?" Word Count: 1,550 AO3 Link: Here!

There was a loud, insufferable ringing in her ears, were comms being jammed? Thermal charges rumbled the ground around her, only further disorienting her as she tried to regain her bearings. Where am I? She staggered, knees hitting the dirt below, hands flying out to catch herself as she tried to peer through the dust coating her visor.

An armored shin swung back, knocking into her helmeted head. The world spun on its axis as she collapsed into the dirt. Where was Ursa? Did Ursa get out? The sound of metal smashing into plastoid and cracking bone under its weight was lost on the woman as she stared at the dirt beside her head.

There was blood coating the small pebbles, moistening the soil with ichor. It was beautiful, in a way. Would the ground reclaim her too? Part of her hoped so, the stinging ache in her body wished for release, and wished to sink into the ground at the feet of soldiers as they fell. If I died here, would my ancestors still be proud of me?

“Lady Kryze!” A smooth timber called through the ringing. There were hands on her arms, trying to pull the beskar plated woman from the ground, though she clawed at the dirt that was dented in the impression of her body, the earth trying to swallow her up.

Her feet touched the ground, muscles remembering how to work just enough to keep her standing, and barely enough to keep her from going back down. She swayed dangerously again, though the golden helmeted savior reached to hold onto her. “Gotal’ad?”

The Armorer cursed, far too quiet for Bo-Katan to hear over the echoes of blasterfire and explosions. “goran’alor,”

The Armorer was grabbing onto Bo-Katan’s arm and pulling her somewhere; part of her wanted to panic, to break the hold the goran had on her arm and run. Where was Ursa? Was Tristan okay? Was Alrich safe?

“Clan Wren,” She stammered as she was pulled behind cover at last. There were less bodies here, dead ones, at least. The colors of their armor blurred and all she could make out were splotches of blue; part of her also realized that she must have been knocked around too hard, although the rest of her was more focused on throwing her body into panic mode without the sight of gold and grey armor. “Where’s Ursa?”

The Armorer looked between Bo-Katan, still swaying on the spot, and the hand she’d sent to her hip, where the darksaber may have been. “Koska, send a call to Lady Wren. If she cannot get here, have her call,” She instructed, attention pulling back to Bo-Katan.

They should have known better than to use explosives to blow away the crystal on the surface, they should have known better than to follow it with with heavy laser cutters that sparked, and they should have known better to secure the falling debris to avoid this mess.

The paint on top of Bo-Katan’s helmet was scratched from the first crystal that hit her, the back of her helmet was scratched from the second, and her abdominal plate was scratched from the third that caught her along the side and sent her to the ground. There was no fighting, and the danger passed once the Mandalorians were pulled away from their positions.

Their cover had been one of the newer constructed buildings, the insides were empty, save for Koska and Axe drafting the Armory.

“Lady Kryze, how many fingers am I holding up?” The Armorer questioned, raising seven fingers between both hands, just in front of the Mand’alor’s face.

Bo-Katan had flinched back at the blurred shape in her face, she couldn’t see the separations of The Armorer’s fingers in the glove and took her hands as a threat.

Before her blaster could be pulled from the holster, The Armorer was advancing; Her arms wrapped around Bo-Katan, letting the blue painted warrior twist simply so she could pin her front against her back, sending a silent thanks to the makers that the woman had forwent the jetpack.

The Armorer was careful as she pressed Bo-Katan’s front into the wood and stone of the wall, pinning her in place to give her the room she needed to take both blasters as the redhead tried to free herself. “Lady Kryze, the Countess of Clan Wren will need you to be calm,” She tried to reason while trying to avoid the variety of close quarters weaponry at the woman’s disposal.

Thankfully, they managed to find Clan Wren on world, since their hospitals reopened and her physical therapist had taken the job on planet to help with the plethora of Mandalorians who needed help.

Ursa’s cane tapped along the dirt as Tristan and Koska hurried behind her. “Bo,” Ursa called, bringing the woman to stop trying to stab The Armorer, her helmet scraped across the wall, leaving a streak of blue paint as she turned her attention over.

Ursa limped over to Bo-Katan, offering a nod to The Armorer for her to back off. “Bo-Katan, I’m going to remove your helmet,” She warned, reaching to grab the lip of the metal, waiting for the shorter woman to nod her acceptance.

There was blood streaking down the side of her face from the inside of her helmet catching against skin, following the same path as the scar she received long ago, if not a few inches off. Yellow-green eyes were cloudy and unfocused, red-rimmed and brimming with tears, Bo-Katan managed to find a basic point to focus on, the kar’ta against Ursa’s chest, though her eyes did flicker with each blurred sway Ursa’s body made.

The helmet was handed off to The Armorer, who peeked at the inside to check the damage and how much blood was staining the inside of the visor.

Ursa placed her hands on each side of Bo-Katan’s face, frowning as she turned the Mand’alor’s head side to side. “She’ll need a medic for sure, though that won’t be wise if she’s reliving...” The night of a thousand tears plagued many of their people who had been alive for it. In the forms of nightmares or obsessive habits born from the fighting, or in some, in visual and auditory hallucinations that would put them back in the fight… And if Bo-Katan started to ask for Korkie, she wasn’t sure if she could make her relive that pain again.

Bo’s hand reached to grab Ursa’s wrist. “Your family?”

“We’re all okay, Lady Kryze, but you need a medic,” She moved to pull away, but Bo wouldn’t drop her hand. “Bo, the battle is won, we’re all safe,”

Tristan moved next, his hand settling against Bo-Katan’s shining pauldron. “You made sure we were all right, now let us make sure you are, too,”

She couldn’t use Ursa for stability, not with the older woman’s blown knee, so when Bo looked away and nodded his agreement, the young man moved to wrap an arm around the Mand’alor.

The little entourage must have looked ridiculous, with the planets leader still bleary eyed and trying to process the city around her, blood dried painting her face, two members of Clan Wren closed in on either side of her, with The Armorer and Koska trailing behind. Still, no one gave them a second glance. “Sabine?”

“She’s alright, she got your call, I’m sure she can make the visit soon, or she will call you,” Ursa promised idly, hoping that her daughter wasn’t too busy with the Jetti training to make an extra call.

▬▬ι═══════>

She wasn’t sure how or when she made it home and in bed, but it was comfortable. The bed creaked beside her, prompting her eyes to open. 

A candle was lit on the opposite side of the room, and she could hear the soft sound of a heavy book being placed on the metal nightstand. “Bo?” Her voice without the filter was always a pleasant surprise. 

“Hmm?” Bo shifted to roll over, eyes squeezing shut in immediate regret. Her hand raised to press against the center of pain between her eyes as she pushed her head under the pillows. 

The bed creaked again as The Armorer moved. “Open,” The tips of her bare fingers brushed Bo-Katan’s lips until they parted to allow the pain relief tablets to drop onto her tongue. With some help sitting up (and some very angry joints that popped their distaste of movement), The Armorer held the glass of water to the Mand”alor’s lips until she drank enough to swallow the tablets. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I lost a lot of time on this one,” Bo-Katan admitted, defeated as she closed the small space between them to rest her head on The Armorer’s shoulder. 

“I know… We’ll get through each one though,” 

“What are you reading?” Bo switched the topic as The Armorer grabbed her book again.

“Documented Armor Practices Across The Outer Rim,” Bo-Katan reached across The Armorer for her reading glasses, perching them onto her nose before settling in. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” 

The Armorer chuckled warmly before her arm wrapped around her Riduur to pull her closer, turning the page as they read in silence together only when Bo noted that she had finished the pages.

Translations: “Gotal’ad?” - "Maker?" “goran’alor,” - blacksmith commander/leader kar’ta - beskar heart

[joeyloganho]

Villains and Lovers

Red Mantle x me!!!

Warnings: quite a bit of cussing, slight? suggestive? At the end? Kind of? not really but just in case i'll put it here. also age difference. (I'm in my mid 20s and he's in his 70s ok? OK)

Thunder boomed outside of the small house. Trees swayed in the wind, and rain fell sideways along the rooftops. Victor could almost get to sleep, but the noise was too much for him. He hated storms. They truly were the bane of his existence. If he could possibly fight them instead of the so-called heroes that he fought on a daily basis, he would. He found it all so stupid, really. Why was he putting himself through all this? There was no point. Maybe it was time for mean old Luciferius to throw in the towel. 

A loud crash at the front door startled Victor. “Shit!” He could hear from the living room. He got out of bed, ready to shoot dark flames at the intruder. They chose the wrong house to break into, that was for sure. Don’t they know not to mess with supervillains? 

“Who the FUCK is there?” Victor yelled, the flames sparking from his fingertips. He spotted a field operative for The Guild standing there. 

“Your door was locked.” The Stranger said with a sorry grin. 

“Yeah, I fuckin know it was! Now can you get the fuck out before i kill you? I’m not in the Guild.” Victor said to the Stranger. He pulled a black envelope from his pocket. 

“But I have this for you.” He said. “Directly from Sovereign himself.” 

Victor grabbed the envelope from the Stranger. “Get out.” He said. 

“But…are you gonna come to the event?” He asked. 

“What are you talking about?” Victor sighed. 

“Well that’s an invite…” He smiled. Victor rolled his eyes, opening the fancy envelope addressed to Luciferius in gold lettering. Pulling out the invite, it read something along the lines of a get together for The Guild’s members blah blah. A celebration of something or other. Victor didn’t really pay attention, but he did notice the handwritten note inside.

“Please do come to the event. We could always use such talent and excellence such as yourself in our presence. You are, after all, one of the best villains out there. Do consider. -Sovereign” 

“Handwritten begging from Sovereign?” Victor laughed. “Sure. I’ll come.” 

“I’ll let him know. Thanks, Luci.” The Stranger smiled, getting ready to leave. 

“Don’t ever call me that again.” Victor grabbed the man, flames in his eyes. 

“OH…sorry. Heh.” The Stranger apologized awkwardly before slipping out the door. Victor went to slam it shut. He realized the door had been completely damaged from that bastard coming in. He sighed loudly. 

“Great.” 

~

Victor, dressed in a deep, dark purple suit with white details, walked into the hall where the event was being held. Villains of all kinds mingled with each other. Victor felt out of place. Sure, he was a villain himself, but…he never interacted with others. He never collaborated with these people. He was a lone wolf. Hell he didn’t even know half these people’s names. He figured he could make his way over, get a drink or something, and then leave. He didn’t have to stay too long. 

As he made his way over to the bar, he sat at an empty seat next to a tall, skinnier man. He wasn’t really paying much attention to him. The man wore black and had white hair but that was about all he noticed. He could hear the man talking to someone, but he didn’t see who it was. 

“Double shot of Jack.” Victor told the bartender. 

“Double?!” The man beside him exclaimed. “My kind of man.” 

“Hmm?” Victor hummed, looking over at him. He was older, no wonder the grey hair. He was still handsome tho. Really handsome actually, Victor thought. Damn. The older man smiled at him. 

“Red Mantle. Mind if i join you?” He asked. 

“Luciferius…Not at all.” He smiled back. Red Mantle ordered a double shot of Jack as well. 

“OH so you’re NOT gonna introduce ME? I see how it is.” Victor heard a voice nearby. 

“Shut up, will you? I don’t need you interrupting me at all times! I’m having a lovely conversation with this nice young man.” Red Mantle snapped. His body turned slightly, revealing a second head of a bald man. 

“Hi! I’m Dragoon. Hope you don’t mind me.” Dragoon smiled. 

Victor shrugged. “I’ve seen weirder.” He said, lifting the shot glass up to Red Mantle. They clinked their glasses and took the shots. 

Victor and Mantle sat in silence for a moment before Mantle started talking. 

“So, I’ve heard of you.” He said. 

“Have you?” Victor questioned, eyebrow raised in curiosity. Mantle nodded with a smirk. 

“I just didn’t realize how handsome you’d be.” He grinned. Dragoon groaned loudly. 

“You are WAY too old for him, Mantle. Come ON! There’s no way he’s interested in YOU!” He told him. Victor shook his head. 

“Actually. I think he’s the perfect age. I like em older.” Victor laughed. Mantle blushed slightly, turning to look at the floor. 

“Oh well then don’t lose momentum now big boy.” Dragoon laughed. Mantle sneered at Dragoon before turning to Victor once more. 

“Would you like to maybe, walk around or something? These chairs aren’t comfortable.” He asked. 

“Sure. You dance, Manny?” Victor smiled. Mantle felt himself really blushing at the nickname. 

“I do.” He said with a grin. “I used to be all the rage back in my day.” 

“Never had a dancin tune to your name, liar.” Dragoon laughed. Victor didn’t quite get what they were saying but took Mantle’s hand and walked with him to the dancefloor. 

A few villains danced together, some by themselves, but then a slow song came on as the two (three?) were approaching the dancefloor. Mantle held Victor’s waist and Dragoon’s hand took hold of Victor’s hand. Victor’s head rested on Mantle’s shoulder, and the older villain felt his heart skip. He was so happy. No one wanted his attention. He was some old guy, with another head. He wasn’t hot, or so he thought. Maybe being an old man with two heads could work out. 

When the song ended, the two pulled away from each other slightly, still holding each other. Victor smiled at him as the song turned into a more upbeat, dance type song. “I hate this song.” Victor laughed. 

“So do I.” Mantle grinned. Dragoon frowned. 

“I like it.” He said. The two ignored him, walking off the dancefloor towards the door. “Where are we going?” 

“Outside.” Mantle said. 

“Are we going to smoke? I need a cigarette.” Dragoon said. 

“Do you think we could maybe, talk more? I like you…” Mantle said to Victor, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“Of course. Does an old man such as yourself have a cell phone? I’ll call you sometime.” Victor teased, but was completely serious. Mantle nodded and they exchanged numbers. 

“Sometimes Dragoon uses the phone.” He told him. Victor nodded. “Are you leaving?” 

“I was going to but…You can come with? If you want?” Victor asked, giving him a small kiss on the lips. Mantle smiled into the kiss and blushed, nodding as they pulled away. 

“Sure…” He said to him, taking his hand as they walked away from the party. Maybe Victor could stay a villain a bit longer, if it meant he’d get to hang out with cuties like Red Mantle.

[iironwreath]

Wanted [Vierna]

Vierna had never felt rain before. 

By living inside Dumaran, she and Nepenthe forfeit knowing what the weather would be like without word passed from the guards posted at the surface. It was prone to vagary, she realized. The weather could harm her as much as anything else, but not out of malevolence. It just acted as it was, dictated by the moons, the planet’s position relative to the sun, the winds, sometimes magic or where the gods or primordials had touched the ground—all forces with no intent. It charmed her.

Nepenthe took her to their usual spot, a less heavily guarded entrance further up the mountain that gazed out over the fortress walls. Two hobgoblins there retreated further in and sat as Nepenthe and Vierna approached.

The sky was a slate grey and fog crept up the hills. The Vermaloc Wood, with its thick, red-hued canopy, shuddered like a rolling fire. The pattering sound of the rain over the dirt paths drowned out the usual chitters of spiders and hiss of wind.

Nepenthe waited with her under the mouth of the cave as Vierna stuck out a hand. The rain kissed her skin in clear drops, cool but not cold, different from the water that dripped from cavern ceilings and ran off cliffs from streams. The rain itself looked thin and sharp, but it didn’t fall quickly enough to sting.

Before Nepenthe, Vierna had also never seen the resplendence of the night sky, clouds, and sunshine. The sun she could live without, but the sky was never the same twice. She preferred the consistency of living underground and knowing what to expect from her surroundings, but her visits to the surface were healthy and played a role in untangling the mess Tharizdun had left her with. 

“It crystallizes when it freezes, you know, turns into something called snow,” Nepenthe explained, also sticking out a hand. It made a tinny sound against her gauntlets. “It covers everything in white. I think I prefer rain to snow, beautiful as it is. Snow makes everything too bright and too quiet.”

“Did it snow at the Many Hosts?”

Nepenthe nodded, gesturing vaguely at the scenery. “It’s further west than south of here.”

Vierna stepped out from under the shelter. She didn’t go far, just enough to submerge herself fully. She hadn’t known whether to expect unease or bliss, but she experienced neither. It was refreshing, cleansing, and she was wet in short order, her hair and dress forming to her skin and reducing her to her smallest size. 

“Careful,” Nepenthe warned, but sounded more amused than worried. “You could get sick if you stay in wet clothes.”

“I can dry myself after.”

“Oh, good. That means you can dry me, too.” Nepenthe followed before Vierna could protest. The water streaked over her plate armour, leaving her shining like a beetle’s carapace. She removed her helmet and smiled at the sky. Her lipstick held firm, but her eye makeup began forming smoky rivulets down her cheeks.

“Pits,” Vierna swore, touching her own cheek. When she withdrew her hand, black-tinted water and clumped mascara sat on her fingertips. Nepenthe wore a modest amount of makeup compared to her; she must’ve looked ridiculous. “Magic can’t replace this.”

Nepenthe beamed at her. “You still look beautiful, if you’re worried.”

“I—” Vierna cleared her throat, face warming in spite of her overall temperature dropping. She moved her cane into two hands. “I was more concerned about presentation, I suppose. If I’m dry but my makeup is gone, I look—tired. I look less intimidating.”

“Ah.” Even if Nepenthe was honest about herself, she could understand outward appearances. She understood the purpose of deception and taking steps to avoid being taken advantage of. Nepenthe rubbed her chin, walking closer. “I don’t agree that you look less intimidating, but it’s important to feel sure of yourself.”

“Well,” Vierna said awkwardly. “Thank you. Your confidence has meaning; you’re a hard woman to intimidate.”

Nepenthe laughed, her whole upper body jostling with it. “You don’t intimidate me, Vierna, but I know what intimidates others.”

Vierna cracked a smile. “That you do.”

Nepenthe drifted into her personal sphere of space, dropping her voice. ”Would it be welcome,” she broached, “if I kissed you?”

Vierna stalled. The question wasn’t unexpected—she had noticed Nepenthe’s attention.

Originally Nepenthe had shown her around and explained Dumaran to her, but it progressed, Nepenthe going beyond her call of duty to spend time with her because she enjoyed it, not because it was required. She had revealed the wonders of a world Vierna had never known. From the beginning, Nepenthe had been her saviour, the hand guiding her out of a devouring darkness. Magic had helped, broken the core chain Tharizdun had collared her with, but most of the heavy lifting had been Nepenthe, Nepenthe, Nepenthe.  

Vierna had spent a lot of time convinced she couldn’t be loved after Tharizdun—from Lolth, from others. She had thought herself tainted, filled with grease that could never be wiped clean.

“You want to kiss me?” she asked, hardly audible. 

Nepenthe raised an eyebrow. “Why else would I ask?”

“No, I mean—” She gave a clipped sigh. “You want to kiss me.”

Nepenthe’s eyes widened. “You don’t think so poorly of yourself, do you?”

“It’s not that I think I’m incapable or unattractive. It’s…” She turned her head, allowing the barest slouch. “I’ve been touched by the Chained Oblivion. You could have someone…closer to home. Better for you, more of a match.”

“I don’t want someone else. Vierna, look at me.” Nepenthe curled her fingers under Vierna’s, tracing her thumb along the swerve of her knuckles. Vierna didn’t want to comply on principle, but Nepenthe was always persuasive. Vierna normally shied away from natural light, but Nepenthe’s eyes were bright in a way that soothed—she met her gaze. “You’re as sharp as they come, so I can’t fault you for complicating things, but it’s really much simpler. Do you feel for me the way I feel for you?”

Vierna flushed. Nepenthe had wiles perfectly suited to get past her defenses. Her straightforward way of thinking was an arrow that cut through the noise and clutter in her mind.

“I—yes.”

"Then 'better for me' be damned. I decide who's a match for me." Nepenthe smiled. “So I’ll ask again: would it be welcome if I kissed you?”

Vierna closed her eyes, swallowing hard. If she was going to accept Nepenthe this way, she had to accept her own vulnerabilities. She couldn’t control everything, and that was okay—welcome, even, because Nepenthe would keep her safe.

“Yes. It would.”

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Nepenthe’s hand exited hers, but those fingers found her jaw instead, the soft padding under the armour stroking from ear to chin. It wasn’t skin, but it was her hand. If they’d come this far, then there would be kisses without Nepenthe’s armour.  

The thought lit a fire in her chest and set her heart racing faster. Nepenthe’s lips met hers, moist with rainwater, kissing her lightly. 

Vierna was stiff at first, unused to kissing or relaxing. The two seemed like they paired together. She had never had an active romantic life in Tal’Dorei—too paranoid. Not for lack of want, but she’d always operated under the logic of ‘the closer someone got to you, the shorter the knife they’d need.’ Even letting women into her bed was rare, and they were never allowed to stay and trance. The closest person she’d ever gotten to was—

Well, she was as dead as the rest. Vierna had rules, but those rules didn’t mean a damn thing in Xhorhas, where so much was different. 

Nepenthe was patient, fingers tracing in reverse along Vierna’s jaw. She relaxed, lower teeth separating from her upper teeth. Vierna leaned into it, moving her lips to catalogue the texture of Nepenthe’s—not chapped, but not perfectly smooth, either, just faintly ridged. She remembered Nepenthe’s piercings and sought a little lower, parting her mouth so her bottom lip could brush their edge. They were cool, slick from—

Nepenthe drew back, grinning wide. “Oh ho, you do want me.” 

Vierna glared. “Yes. I just established that.” She was closer than she realized, curved forward over Nepenthe. Nepenthe looked smug, like she knew exactly how difficult it was to woo someone like Vierna, simultaneously triumphant and cherishing what she’d received. Had it been anyone else, Vierna might have wanted to slap them for being insufferable.

“It’s nice to be wanted,” Nepenthe said, expression softening, “isn’t it?”

“It depends on who wants you.”

Nepenthe hovered a hand over her waist, seeking permission. Vierna moved her hip so they connected. This time, Vierna didn’t tense. This time, she initiated the kiss, cupping Nepenthe’s face. In the distance, thunder growled.

[crowsongcaws]

(So true, so true. Gotta love Mumbo angst! Also warning for vague descriptions of corpses because Last Life)

Jimmy's body was a mess.

Mumbo couldn't tear his eyes away from it—from the spot where Grian had shoved Jimmy off the roof, letting the other crumple on the ground. Someone shrieked—that was Mumbo, actually, Mumbo shrieked. Jimmy's glassy eyes seemed to stare directly at him, fear permanently etched into his face.

The world around him was grey, Jimmy's blood a stark contrast to it.

"He needs to learn," a distorted voice—Grian's voice—calmly said. The voice of his friend was sandwiched between so many other voices it was almost hard to tell that it was Grian.

"Wh...what?" Mumbo stammered, his voice faint and panicked as he looked up at Grian.

Grian was on the roof, his blood-red sweater harsh against the greys of the world. Those pitch-black pupils swallowed the sclera whole, and somehow, Mumbo felt as if he was talking to something much bigger than the version of Grian standing there.

"He needs to learn," Grian repeated, sharp teeth and sharper tongue enunciating every syllable of his speech, "that his actions have consequences."

Mumbo was shaking. He could smell the rot from Jimmy, taste the iron in the air. No one else was moving. Not a single blade of grass swayed in the wind. His mind was alternating between loud silence and racing thoughts that threatened to spill over, but then it hit him. This wasn't what happened; Jimmy had just died, how could he already be—?

"Actions have consequences," said Grian, his voice somehow coming from every angle around Mumbo.

I need to move. Move. Please. I need to leave, I need to run, I need to go!

Grian took a step forward.

Mumbo dropped his sword and ran. Flies were buzzing around him even as he fled, the stench of blood and rot making his stomach twist and his throat burn. Ice-cold fear kept him moving, darting past trees and stumbling over large rocks, but he couldn't get far. It was all repeating, he realized. Over and over, no matter how far he tried to run, he couldn't leave.

"Your actions have consequences, Mumbo," whispered Grian's actual, undistorted voice right into his ear.

He saw the flash of metal, and then a blade was puncturing his abdomen, sinking into his flesh with the intent to kill—

Mumbo jolted awake with a scream.

Sweat clung to every inch of his skin, his hands gripping the spot where he could still vaguely feel the burn of being stabbed. His breaths came in quick and raspy, gasping for air like he'd run a marathon.

Just a dream... it was just a bad dream, Mumbo...

His hands still trembled, his heart pumping quickly to push adrenaline through his entire body. Trying to calm himself, he sat there idly for a moment and stared at the lines and callouses on his palms. He allowed himself to feel the softness of his blanket and remembered that he was safe.

It was just a game, after all. He tried to reason that there was no point in being so distressed over something he'd willingly joined in on, but his body did not know reason, so he continued to shake.

"Just a dream, Mumbo. Just a bad dream," he whispered to himself.

And somewhere completely out of normal audible range, Grian laughed.

do you think Mumbo has trouble sleeping after the events of LastLife