#and almost sunken-eye like quality

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

I’m angry because tumblr didnt let me add more than 30 tags :(

How am i supposed to gush about this?! >.<

a deep sea danny for mermay~

i got inspired by @meowmeowmeowmeow4x's lovely fic, Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun! I don't think my depiction of danny is completely accurate to the story, but i looooved the description of his transparent skin with visible bones and organs and wanted to give it a shot!

[ozzgin]

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

[luvh4nji]

𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙 + 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐒/𝐎

warning: general drunkenness, reader is referred to as "girl" in san's

seonghwa ; he's so unbelievably soft for you. something about having his pretty baby so in love with him, hanging off his arm and pressing your side impossibly closer to his, even when you're not completely yourself, makes his heart swell in his chest, his stomach doing somersaults.

"be careful, love." he chastises you gently, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side, thumb rubbing little circles on the skin of your shoulder. "don't want you getting into trouble, yeah?" and you just swoon over him, turning in his hold so your arms snaking around his own shoulders, nuzzling into his chest. and you're too hazy to notice the soft look in his eyes and the soft blush that covers his cheeks.

hongjoong ; he seems like the type to be a little insecure in a relationship. he's so busy, he porbably doesn't feel like he gives you enough attention and it gets him down a little bit. the question of what if you find someone who treats you better? always sits in the back of his mind. but when you get all clingy and sweet with him when you get a little drunk at the studio, his worries almost seem to dissipate.

"and those are the reasons why..." you start, cutting yourself off with a hiccup, resting your head against his chest from your spot in his lap. "those are the reasons why i love you." you finish, smiling to yourself in your drunken daze. "ah, okay, i see. " he indulges, nodding and smiling down at the mess you are in his lap. he hears something that sounds like a muffled "you better" coming from you, feeling the vibrations of your voice as he runs his fingers down your back.

yunho ; he would think you're the cutest thing he's ever seen <3 he's truly the type to be completely entranced by his partner and to see you have that same reverence for him? it just makes him so, so happy. he's the type to have you close to him all night, sitting in the booth of the bar wiht his arm slung around your shoulders while you lean against him, ead on his chest, hand lifted to hold his, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

"you feeling okay, baby?" he asks, noticing how quiet you'd gotten. and you'd just nod against his chest, sniffing a little bit from the drinks, mumbling that you're fine and that you just want to look at him, blinking slowly as you explain yourself. and he gets so red, smiling brightly and keeping you close to his chest proudly while the rest of the guys at the booth tease you relentlessly.

yeosang ; he gets so shy and flusterd, poor guy :( he's not a very touchy person, generally speaking, so when you go to him, laying your head in his lap where he was sitting on the couch in your apartment, once the sleepy affect of the beverage has sunken in, gazing up at him with big, lovestruck eyes, he can't help the soft pink that colors the shells of his ears.

"are you okay, y/n?" he asks, voice low, with that shy quality to it, as you look up at him, your hand reaching to cup his face, fingers tracing his birthmark delicately. "better than okay, sangie." you grin, running a thumb over the crest of his cheekbone. "i got so lucky-- to have someone to beautiful." you hiccup through your words, making him look up and away from your reverent expression, biting the inside of his cheek to hold in a smile.

san ; loves it. adores it even. you already knows he's absolutely a clingy drunk and he loves that you are too because it just proves to him how perfect you are for each other. he's the type to believe in soulmates and this is his sign. he just loves how you look at up at him, blinking slowly, and grabbing his hands, pressing little kisses to his knuckles and telling him how how handsome he is.

"yeah, honey? i'm the prettiest boy you've ever seen?" he asks, half-teasing, but you just nod in agreement, movements slow and lazy due to the alcohol flowing through your system. "i'm glad you think that." he says through a soft smile, reaching to ruffle your hair from you're leaning against his chest. "cause you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen. makes us a perfect match, doesn't it?"

mingi ; adores you when you get clingy. he's absolutely the type to revel in your physical nature. he loves how you excited you get to see him when he comes to pick you up from the bar after your friends had called him, asking for his assistance in getting you home. he loves how you run up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, telling him how much you missed these past few hours that you'd been out.

"missed me?" he asks, only half-teasing, laughing to himself when you nod against his chest, mussing your hair in the process. "i missed you, too, honey." he grins, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "now lets get you home, yeah?" and he smiles to himself at how you cling onto his arm, grip vice-like in the car.

wooyoung ; he doesn't seem like the type to let himself be soft often. he feels like he has to be funny or flirty or abrasive at all times, but all those walls come down when he's around you, especially when your uninhibited and he knows you need his help. his voice gets so soft, touch gentle as he lets you wrap yourself around him, nuzzling into his chest, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin there.

"okay, baby," he starts when your body goes nearly limp against his. "you think it's time to go home?" and you just shake your head, hair mussing against him, before raising your gaze to meet his and mumbling something about how you'd go wherever he wanted you to. and he'd just laugh, soft and warm, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you out of the bar. "alright, alright. let's get you home, lovey.

jongho ; although he doesn't necessarily seem like the clingiest person himself, he does seem like the type to enjoy having a clingy partner. it has something to do with him liking to be needed. it makes his chest puff up in pride and his eyes shine when you latch onto him. especially when you're all hazy and uninhibited, letting him take care of you.

"oh, really?" he grins pulling you close to him as you grapple onto his strong arms as you mumble something about how strong he is and how you adore him and everything he does for you. "you need me that much?" he asks, tone almost condescending if it wasn't him, and if you weren't inebriated. he shifts his grip around you as you nod againist his arm, staring up at him with big, sparkly eyes. the image of you so adoring of him makes his heart swell in his chest, biting his lip and trying to swallow his smile.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - VIII - I DON'T MIND COMPETITION, IT IS WHAT IT IS 📸

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.3K

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, adult themes, mentions of cheating & divorce.

Summary: James gets sent divorce papers. Our fav's enjoy some quality time in Mexico. The reader gets to spend some time with Rio and his family. This one's a messy, feel good and 😬 😱 update.

VIII - I DON'T MIND COMPETITION, IT IS WHAT IT IS 📸

The curtains dance in the wind caused by the slight morning breeze. It’s quiet with the exception of the resort's wildlife. This kind of peace and serenity is out of this as unreal as your gorgeous accommodations. Smiling, you take a few photographs of the view from the living room window. The glow emanating from your skin isn’t of the woman with the cheating husband. Your growing tan with golden undertones is courtesy of one man and one man only - Rio. He’d scuttled out of bed almost an hour ago now. As silent as he had been you knew from the moment he stopped being the big spoon. Last night was a fantasy. A look into a life you’d never fathomed for yourself. Rio’s level of care and attention to detail was new. So was the reciprocity. Rio’s present, he’s attentive, encouraging and a man that takes great care of the people and things he loves. You find yourself still on cloud nine, like Rio had screwed you to a point of clarity. Taking your phone from the coffee table you head out on the balcony and into the fresh air. Your inbox is full of emails from James, they run the gamut of emotions from begging to get you back, to gaslighting and finally accusing you of the very thing that was the demise of your marriage - cheating. You really shouldn't respond but you do by attaching a PDF copy of the divorce papers you filled out before getting on the plane. You head onto social media and see notifications for several missed video calls from your soon to be ex-husband’s business account. You block that too, removing all evidence of him from your page. You then take a photo of your current view, the trees dancing in the wind and post to your story. The phone rings and you tense until you see the call is coming from Rio and smile.

“Hey”

“Hey mama” his smooth voice says on the other end.

“Thanks for leaving breakfast” you say.

“No problem, Mama,” Rio responds.

“Is everything alright with your suit?” you ask.

“Yeah but fuck Nick, man. He’s lucky I’m here” Rio mutters being sour. You snicker, turning from the view of the trees and beach on the horizon to the incredible interior of the villa. “Y/N, you're gonna make someone catch a case showing off all that ass in that little night dress” Rio adds and you turn back around eyes scanning the canopies and then the trail where you find Rio below, smiling with the phone to his ear.

“Lucky I have on clothes at all with how you left me” you remind him. The call ends and Rio heads up to the room. The way you made him feel was new to him. He’d never felt like this before, he’d never allowed himself too. Whenever he felt himself getting too comfortable he withdrew. No woman was ever worth the headache or the effort. Keeping things untethered was his forte and second nature to him. Not now. Not with you. More surprising than anything was the fact that Rio didn’t want to run. He couldn't fathom it. He didn’t want to take off without getting to know you properly. He wanted to hear your ideas and problems and provide solutions wherever he could.  He wanted to be someone dependable for you. Someone who makes you smile and keeps you happy. Unlocking the door to the room he smiles, thankful his silent feud with Nick led him to cashing out on the best suite on the resort, whereas Nick got the best view. Closing the door behind him Rio takes a few steps into the sunken living area to meet you on the balcony.

“Next time don't leave without saying goodbye” you mutter as he hugs you from behind placing kisses on your cheeks and neck.

“I just thought you needed your rest, you know I wore you out last night” Rio teases.

“Shut-up” you giggle holding his arms around you. The two of you stand there in silence looking out into the trees and then the faint view of the ocean in the distance. “Rio?” you ask after a moment of comfortable silence in his arms.

“Mhhm?” he questions, you feel the vibration as he pecks your cheek again..

“I really want to manage my expectations, after last night i’m ….” you pause and Rio pulls away you turn to face him and he looks to you suddenly guarded and all business. “I don’t really have any experience with ‘casual'. I guess what I'm saying is this feels intimate, it feels like more … if it's not you have to let me know so I can reel it in.” you confess. Brown eyes and an unreadable expression hold your gaze before a smirk plays at his lips.

“Before last night I wasn't going anywhere, after last night it was solidified. I only have experience with casual so youre gonna have to be patient with me babygirl and speak up whenever you feel a way or have questions” Rio responds level headed and cool as always. Your smile is genuine and he comes in for another kiss.

“So when we go back?” you ask.

“You can stay with me, my place is big enough for the two of us. If you want your own place that’s cool too but I’ma need a key” Rio says.

“That's fast” you remark.

“I work late mama, and I don't want to wake you up to get the door and let me in. If I have a key I can come in, shower and slide into bed with you; no issues” Rio says, already making plans to suit his growing appetite for your presence and touch.

“I”m afraid I’ll stop being a good time to you. I sent James divorce papers this morning. One of his friends' wives saw us at the airport yesterday. James knows and I can't imagine he’ll make it easy on me” you explain only to watch Rio’s demeanour harden. His mood change is eerie and his entire aura is intimidating. You’d step back if it wasn't for the railing at your back.

“James playing with what’s mine is not in his best interest” Rio’s words are as unplanned as the claim he’s laid on you. “He’s done mama, he’s a bitch and depending on his next moves it’s not looking too good. I haven't forgotten about him getting rough with you” Rio says in bad humour. “I don't want you afraid of anyone breathing alright, anyone messes with you and you tell me. I’ll take care of it” he asserts.

“What if it's you?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

“Tell my Granny, she’ll kick my ass” he smirks. “Now go get ready, there’ll be a lot of pictures” Rio smiles patting your butt as he leads you back into the room to start wedding prep.

The entire day feels like something out of your wildest dreams. There's been no major communication between the two of you, and still Rio has managed to make you feel important. His family has made you feel included and the happiness of the day's celebration is contagious. It’s hard to imagine how you've survived so long getting so little from a man who had promised to love you forever. You dance with Rio’s family and his Granny for what feels like hours laughing and smiling with them as Rio watches from his table. It’s clear to see that mister serious doesn’t dance. But the vibe of the reception venue is eerily familiar to that of his clubs. Needing to catch your breath you acquire a bottle of water and head over to him. He sends you a lazy smile draping his arm around you.

“Are you drunk or just a dancing machine?” he asks now, taking a few appetisers and placing them on a plate in front of you. It seemed like there was an infinite amount of food.

“Maybe a little tipsy” you confess taking a taquito. His family members had convinced you to take a few tequila shots and you'd obliged against your constitution. As a non drinker you’re already feeling it.

“Mhm” Rio smiles amused by how well you fit in.

“Tell me this if you can't stand your cousin, why did you help with the reception?” you ask. Rio is taken back and does a poor job of trying to hide the amusement in his eyes.

“I don't know what youre talking about,” he mumbles.

“Rio, all your venues are like this and you were gone too long for a suit fitting this morning” you confess looking up at him.

“It was an opportunity to partner with a hotel chain, very profitable for me. It doesn't have shit to do with Nick” he says with nonchalance. It’s a testament to his character and a green flag.

“Ok” you smirk not pushing him.

“It was for Marisol,” he smiles, breaking character.

“Can I get a picture?” the photographer says and Rio leans in. You do too, smiling before the blinding flash. “Gorgeous” the photographer smiles at you.

“Not too much” Rio asserts and you laugh as the photographer prints two polaroids from a belt on his hip.

“My bad man,” he smiles, walking away. You look at the photo and it's clear how well you and Rio fit. He’s not smiling in the picture, he's looking at you like he's a starving animal and you're his favourite meal. You crane your neck back and his lips find yours without instruction. It’s scary how in sync you are. Scary how comfortable this feels.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Sure, let me say goodbye” you sit upright.

“Mama, tonight we’re Irish,” he says, standing ready to leave.

“Don't do the Irish like that, just say you're rude” you smile taking his hand.

“My family is rude for hogging you all night knowing you're too polite to walk away.” he mumbles, making his escape with you in tow.

“Y/N, we never got a picture and I didnt get your socials” one of his cousins shouts coming over with the photographer. Turning you pose with the gorgeous girl, thanking the photographer as you exchange phones and contact information.

“Rio, how’d you snag her with your mean ass” she says sticking her tongue out at him.

“None of your business and I'll remember that the next time your SA calls from Chanel” Rio remarks, matching her energy. His cousin smiles giving you another hug.

“No he wont, he’s a big softie. But we should hang out once you're back home Y/N.” she says dismissing Rio.

You nod liking the idea of new friendship, “Sounds good.”

“Can I share your info with the others?” She asks and you nod. “And if he acts up, call me.” she says with a pointed finger and big energy. She reminds you of the rapper Lola Brooke. Looking at the contact information you see her name is Tia.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. Rio’s good to me” you smile.

“Open ended invitation” she shrugs.

“Goodnight Tia” Rio groans, turning you around.

“Love you” She laughs as you both walk away. Rio chuckles, shaking his head. He hadn't realised how good it felt to see you happy and unguarded. To see you smiling and laughing with the familial relation he reserved his love for was something else. They’d never been rude to anyone he brought around but they’d never taken to anyone like they'd taken to you. All he’d heard for the entirety of the day was that you were a keeper. It was like playing a broken record. He had no intentions of letting you go but his family talking to you was further confirmation. He checks his phone while in the shower to make sure things are running smoothly on the business front and goes onto social media to see Tia’s highlight reel of the day. He taps through seeing you in multiple shots and the last is a photo of the polaroid. Captioned: stop asking guys; she's taken by my cousin, you don’t want those problems. Smiling, Rio clicks on the tag, hitting follow himself.

Feeling right about you and the night he takes a polaroid out of his pocket, snapping a photo of it, tagging you and posting it to his story. 

Getting out of the shower you lotion your skin doing your night routine before checking your phone. You have several follow requests to accept, and do so quickly before checking your DM’s. You shake your head at a few attempts to get your attention from men and find a few from Tia. You repost two to your story and the bathroom door opens to Rio with a towel hanging low on his waist.

“Don’t look at me like that, I made plans for us tomorrow and you like to sleep in” he warns. Smiling, you roll your eyes heading to the bedroom. You put on another babydoll set and finish going through your socials when you find one from Rio. His handle is mysterious just like him, the page is mostly about business, reviews and write ups for his clubs, very few photographs of him. You check his story and see a photo of the two of you with you tagged along with a black heart. Your smile burns your cheeks as you hit the screen reposting it onto your own story. He’s quicker than you were and comes out of the shower in shorts, carrying a carafe of water with him. He has no idea what he’s in for with the mix of tequila and romantic gestures coursing through your body. Pulling back the plush sheets you straddle him and he smiles knowing he can't say no to you. You feel his manhood begin rising to attention and lean forward lowering to slowly kiss him. The kisses are so perfect, so slow and sensual that no further foreplay is required.

Tomorrow will have to wait, tonight you take care of your man.

Authors Note: Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and things being a lot lighter for Rio and the reader. How are we liking the developing relationship. What was your favourite part and what do you think happens next?

» next part

TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads

[soscarlett1twas]

Closing Shift

↳ Andrew does his final rounds of the museum ↳ 322 words

The museum was set to close soon. If the dwindling crowds weren’t evidence enough, the tiredness that clung to the back of Andrew’s eyes beckoned him to return home, his internal clock striking the final hour.

He wondered what Darling was up to. Would they be finishing up a manuscript? Maybe they could cook something together… he pulled back his sleeve and checked the time. No, it’s likely they’d want to order in. Something low effort.

Andrew turned into another corridor, a smile playing at his lips as the few people lingered around one exhibit. He caught another glass case just beside him, and drifted to a stop, looking inside.

Admittedly, it was hard to keep himself attentive when the museum enchanted him. His eyes traced the exhibit.

The exhaust crept to him again, pounding in his head.

Andrew took off his glasses and massaged his eyelids, scrunching his eyes in an attempt to ward it off. When he looked up, the reflective case caught him.

Andrew laughed in that awkward, huff-of-breath way. It wasn’t often he got a good look at himself. His hair was longer than he imagined, and his eyes had an almost sunken quality to them. God, he really was tired.

Andrew slipped back on his glasses and glanced once more at the case, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer, studying himself.

And there were two of him.

Andrew squinted, sure he was seeing double. But there the figure was — himself, standing behind, well, himself.

Andrew barely had a thought as he turned around.

And he short circuited before he could have another.

He drew in a sharp breath, the only sound which permeated the space between them. That and the fleeting chatter of other patrons, nothing but bygone whispers to him as his heartbeat pounded in his ear.

No. It was not himself in the reflection.

Another beat passed.

“Hey,” the other muttered softly.

“Hey.”

[iouinotes]

Drunken Love | Five Hargreeves (Part 1)

SPOILER FOR THE THIRD SEASON

summary: Five gets drunk at Luther and Sloane's wedding. He seems to need someone to take care of him (even if he doesn't want to admit it).

pairing: Five Hargreeves x female!reader

word count: 673 words

warnings: just fluff

author’s note: I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes...enjoyyy

part 2 is uploaded here!

Secretly, I've been watching him all night. Always hidden in the shadows, from his attentive gaze, which becomes more and more glassy the more alcohol flows through his veins. It is strange to see him in this state. Him, this stubborn man, always walking upright, trapped in the body of a 16 year old.

Whose mind is so sharp, body and soul so out of balance, and whose abilities never cease to amaze me. Like his appearance, that certain stern manner, he always has a goal in mind, always a mission to complete. And I am always by his side. Together we are all the time, but I still feel alone. Because he's so focused on saving humanity to not notice what's right in front of him. Me. I'm so in love with him that it's hard for me to look at him.

And yet I can't take my eyes off him. Because I'm worried, his figure swaying around the room, the glass full of champagne in his hand, the liquid spilling over the rim until it's brought to his lips. And then the entire glass is empty in one gulp, each time it is refilled. It has been for several hours.

I have tried to talk to him, but no chance. He is too absorbed in his hopelessness to notice my concern. Everyone in this room is painfully aware that the end of the world is near. But everyone deals with this realization differently, the only ones who appear to be carefree are Luther and Sloane. The married couple who smiles so happily at each other.

Looking at each other with the kind of infatuation Five looks at me in my fondest dreams. I shake my head, banishing the images that plague me when I realize that this will never come true.

And then in the next moment I see him drop his glass, still half full, and lean on the table. His eyes are narrowed, his figure sunken. And no one but me seems to notice this sadness that emanates from him. Diego and Lila are busy with their son, Ben as always with himself, Allison is talking to Viktor and I am hidden in the farthest dark corner. A sad sight.

But even though my common sense tells me that Five doesn't want me near him, my feet automatically move in his direction. I can no longer leave him to his own devices. He doesn't seem to notice me as I kneel in front of him, his gaze looking right through me, almost as always. It makes my heart ache, ironically, I am just as familiar with it. "Let's go to your hotel room, shall we? I'll help you up."

His mouth moves, his brow furrows, but not a word he says is clearly understood. "N-no, no help. Alone." His head hangs, his eyes blink, his mouth twitches in disdain. "Unfair, your face. Hate it." My eyebrows raise, my chest goes numb, my heart becomes empty. ,,Come on, you've had enough for today." My arms reach around him, trying to help him up.

"Let go, I can do it." Despite his dislike, he doesn't push me away. "I know you can do anything you set your mind to. That's a quality of yours that I admire so much." I answer him in a whisper, his face contorts slightly.

"Don't talk, your voice is- I don't want to hear it." His words are harsh and I back away from him a little. He has always been unkind to me, but now that he's throwing his hatred at me so barefaced, it's even worse to be in love with him. So I just nod. With a heavy breath, I help him get up. I put my arm around his shoulder, make it clear to Allison, who is looking in my direction, that I will take care of him.

And she understands without words, knows even without my confirmation that I will always take care of him.

No matter how much he loathes me.

[engie-ivy]

(I'm on holiday visiting ancient Roman sites, so about time to post a fic for @wolfstarmicrofic 's Greek & Roman Mythology theme! Unfortunately, that I would be able to keep it short is also a myth...)

4th: Conquest

2263 words

For a simple farm-boy like Remus to end up with the legendarily handsome Prince Sirius of the House of Black of the city of Grimmauld, nothing less than devine intervention would be needed. Luckily for Remus, the gods like nothing more than to meddle in the affairs of mortals...

The Myth of Remus and Sirius

‘Please goddess, answer my call, please goddess, hear my plea.’ Remus repeats the words in his head over and over again, while sitting on his knees on the cold marble of the temple.

Suddenly, he hears a rustling of fabric, and the soft sound of gentle footsteps on the floor. He opens his eyes and lift his head, and despite expecting it, he’s still taken aback by the imposing sight in front of him.

A tall woman, taller than any other woman, taller than any man, taller than any mortal. Flowing silk fabrics draped across her body, but still revealing enough of her ivory skin and soft curves. Hair falling to her waist like woven threads of gold, framing a face with eyes the colour of the ocean and full, pink lips. The most beautiful woman in the world.

Aphrodite, the goddess of love.

“You called upon me?” She asks in a sweet voice as she strides across the marble stones of her own temple to stop in front of Remus.

Remus bows his head again, his forehead almost pressed against the marble. “Yes, my goddess. You must- I mean, I humbly ask you to, no, beg you to please undo the gift you have given me.”

When he dares to look up, Aphrodite has pressed her lips into a thin line. “You were given a gift by an Olympian, and you reject it?”

Remus hands tremble. Insulting one of the gods has never ended well for any mortal, and this might very well mean his death. Or worse.

A week ago, an old woman showed up at the house where Remus and his parents live as simple farmers. She had eyes sunken into her wrinkled face, warts in her neck and on her hands, dirty fingernails and hair like cobwebs. Remus had made her a hot bath, cooked her a meal, and let her sleep in his own bed. The next morning, she revealed herself to be the goddess Aphrodite in disguise, wandering through the mortal world to test the people’s xenia, their hospitality. And for Remus’ great show of hospitality, she had promised to reward him with a gift.

“It’s not that I am ungrateful, my goddess. It was a great honour to receive an Olympian on my doorstep,” Remus carries on, knowing that he can’t back down now. “You were great and good to bestow such a gift upon me,-”

“I know it is what you desired!” Aphrodite interrupts. “I could hear it in your thoughts and see it own your face.” She lifts her chin and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Do you think I do not know my own field of expertise?”

Remus vehemently shakes his head. “No, no, no. You were right. It is what I desired. Just... not like this.”

Remus comes from a family of simple farmers, but they are not without a claim to fame. With the bee hives and flower fields behind their simple farm house, the Lupins known across the land to produce the highest quality of honey. So much so, that generations ago, King Phineas Black made them the personal supplier of the royal family of the city of Grimmauld. Befriended kings and queens, rich noblemen, travelling heroes, all are hoping to be gifted a jar of Grimmauld’s famous honey when visiting the city.

Each week, Remus’ father would ride his carriage to Grimmauld to personally offer their finest selection to King Orion and Queen Walburga. And when Lyall got to old to make the weekly trip, Remus took over from his father.

His first time in the palace, Remus kneeled in front of the throne with his tray filled with jars of honey, when soft footsteps approached. Someone reached out and took a jar from the tray. “So, for honey to be the best it must have the exact same shade of gold as your eyes,” a rich voice spoke.

When Remus looked up, his breath caught. A young man wearing a perfectly fitted, silk toga was holding one of the honey jars and smiling down at Remus with a soft, warm smile. He was slender, with a narrow waist and a face that seemed to be carved out of marble, with delicate features from an uncanny perfection, but the bright liveliness in his silver-grey eyes showed that he was very much not a statue. His ivory skin and light eyes contrasted beautifully with his long, raven black hair, which was now held back by silver pins embroidered with small, delicate diamonds that perfectly matched the colour of his eyes.

Remus immediately knew he was gone for. He also knew he was far from the first man, nor would he be the last, to be captivated by Prince Sirius of the House of Black.

Prince Sirius is widely known to be the most beautiful man in the world. Stories are told about his beauty far and wide, and none of those stories have been exaggerated. Besides kings, queens, princes and princesses pursuing him, even the gods desire him. Apollo has come down from mount Olympus several times to watch the man or even strike up a brief conversation with him, and it is said that even the highest god Zeus has let his eye fall on Sirius, and everyone knows that when the gods want something, they do not patiently wait for it, or bother with permission for that matter. Therefore, it is assumed that Prince Sirius will very soon be the next conquest of one of the gods.

His parents are practically salivating at the thought. After all, when young Ganymede was abducted by Zeus, his parents received divine compensation, the prized horses gifted to King Tros by the highest god himself being admired and envied all over the world, and Sirius is surely as beautiful as Ganymede, maybe even more so. And even if the gods will eventually lose interest in their son, there are still incredibly rich kings who will gladly offer a large portion of their wealth to have Prince Sirius with his legendary beauty at their side. Besides, King Orion and Queen Walburga have a second son for their succession, so that they’re free to exploit Sirius for his beauty.

Every time Remus visited the city, Sirius made time to talk to him, and when Remus found out he was not only beautiful, but also clever and witty and good-hearted, he had completely fallen for the young prince. Completely fallen, while knowing it was completely hopeless.

Until just days after meeting the goddess Aphrodite, Remus heard a frantic knocking. He opened the door and did a double take. The young man’s hair was not neatly styled as usual, instead pulled up in a messy bun with strands falling over his eyes, and his fine clothes looked slightly dishevelled, but unmistakably, Prince Sirius was standing before him.

Before Remus could do more than gasp, Sirius spoke. “Remus, please forgive me my intrusion, but I cannot bear to deny my feelings any longer. I long to be with you! I do not want riches, or titles, or crowns, or even a life among the gods. I just want you! My heart has chosen you, and I refuse to listen to my fears instead of my heart any longer.”

Sirius let himself fall into Remus’ arms, and for a moment, Remus’ heart leapt with joy, but then it was like an ice-cold hand had closed its grip around it as Remus realised what had happened.

Aphrodite’s ‘gift’.

She had given Remus what he desired, but she had not realised Remus did not want to have what he desired if it had to be like this.

Remus told Sirius he was tired and needed to rest. He convinced him to get some sleep, and promised they’d have a conversation in the morning when his mind would be clear.

As soon as Sirius was asleep in Remus’ bed, Remus had rushed to the temple of Aphrodite.

Aphrodite purses her lips and crosses her arms beneath her breasts. “How do you mean ‘not like this’?”

“Not if he didn’t get to choose,” Remus explains pleadingly. “Not if he was used as a tool to do me a favour.”

Aphrodite elegantly arches an eyebrow. “I present you with the most handsome man in the world, a rich, young prince, yours for the taking, and you would refuse?”

Remus only nods.

“Why?”

“Because I love him,” Remus simply states. “I would never want to strip him of his free will, or place my happiness above his.”

Aphrodite stares at him for a moment, and Remus wonders if he has insulted her, if these are his last moments before she changes him into a tree or an insect, or simply burns him to ashes.

But then a small smile appears on the goddess’ face. “For so long, I’ve dealt with people confusing attraction, desire or advantages with love, and it’s a balm to my soul to see pure love, like their is between you and Sirius.”

“I... I don’t understand.”

“You have misunderstood the nature of my gift, my sweet Remus. Allow me to explain.” Aphrodite is smiling indulgently at him now. “You must know that King Orion and Queen Walburga were hoping their son’s beauty would bring them opportunity, and that him having eyes for a simple farm-boy was unacceptable to them. They had threatened that an ill fate would befall you if Sirius were to seek your affections. I have made it clear to them that an even more ill fate would befall them if you or your family would suffer any harm, and you know you must never underestimate just how... inventive us Olympians can be when we really want to punish mortals.”

Remus had not thought such a beautiful face could wear such a dark look, and he shudders, images of Prometheus chained while waiting for the eagles to come eat his liver, Tantalus desperately reaching for the fruits and the water just outside his reach, Sisyphus fruitlessly rolling his stone up to hill coming to mind.

“Also,” Aphrodite continues, her face back to its normal expression. “I made it clear to both Zeus and Apollo to let the boy be. They will listen, because they know better than to cross me.” A pleased little smile. “Those two won’t risk having to live the rest of their immortal lives without ever experiencing a mortal’s love.”

“That’s... wonderful,” Remus says, struggling to find words. “And I am much obliged to you for your kindness. But I still don’t understand. How come Sirius...”

“Regarding Prince Sirius,” Aphrodite says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “My work there consisted of telling him he had nothing to fear from his family or scorned gods anymore. And that’s it.”

“But... But...”

Aphrodite now laughs out loud. “He loved you already, Remus. He was afraid that his parents with their greed or gods unable to handle rejection would harm you if he were to act on those feelings. The moment I made clear he needn’t worry about them anymore, he came to you.”

Remus lets out a breath. “I.. I can hardly believe it.” He laughs shakily, happiness starting to blossom in his chest. “Did you know from the start my feelings were reciprocated?”

“Is there anything concerning love that I do not know?” Then the goddess shrugs. “It may not have entirely been a coincidence I showed up in disguise on your doorstep. Perhaps I had seen the way you and Prince Sirius looked at each other, and I was looking for an excuse to meddle.”

“Thank you,” Remus manages to say. “Thank you, great goddess. I can never repay you for such a gift.”

Aphrodite looks at him with a twinkle in her eyes. “Just continue to prove to me pure love exists, so I can look upon you whenever I need that belief reinforced.”

When Remus returns home, Sirius is sitting on his doorstep with his knees tucked against his chest, worrying his lips between his teeth. The moment he sees Remus approach, he pushes up to his feet and brushes the dirt from his tunic. “I have completely misread the situation, haven’t I?”

“No, Sirius,” Remus says. “No, you haven’t.”

Sirius shakes his head. “I poured my heart out to you. You told me to go to sleep and disappeared.”

“By Zeus, Sirius, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sirius gives him a sad smile. “It’s okay. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have assumed. I just thought... When you looked at me I thought I saw...”

“What you saw was there!” Remus exclaims. “Sirius, I will explain. Only some days ago, I somehow gained the favour of the goddess Aphrodite, and she promised me a reward of some sort. So when you showed up here, I thought she had looked into my heart and seen only you, and that the feelings of which you spoke weren’t your own, but a spell she had cast on you in order to please me. That you weren’t here of your own choosing.”

Sirius blinks at him, and then shakes his head, stepping forward and placing his hand gently on Remus’ cheek. Remus briefly wonders if he’s dreaming, but Sirius looks so beautiful, Remus wouldn’t have been able to dream up such a vision.

“Remus,” Sirius speaks. “Let me reassure you. I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

[fourwingedwriter]

Changed

AN: I guess this is two parts now? I like this one's concept. Might keep going with it

Previous part - Part 3 - Other Nameless Whump

CWs: malnourished, recovery whump, lady whump

----

The next time I found myself awake, I was being held steady in a wooden chair with my wounded leg held in the hands of a stranger. Feeling my muscles tense suddenly, she looked up and met my gaze, "Good Evening."

I tried to speak, but all I could manage was a hoarse whisper, "Hello."

As the sleep started to clear from my eyes, I realized I was in different clothes. They are far cleaner and considerably softer, allowing me comfort I didn't have before. I inspected the fabrics, their quality far greater than I had grown accustomed to.

"We treated your heel, but try not to move that leg too much." She glanced to the person behind me before looking back, "How are you feeling?"

I wasn't sure how to respond. I hadn't felt "normal" for so long I am unsure how to gauge it. Am I feeling well because I am not in indescribable pain but only feeling the dulled pains I have become adjusted to? How do I judge this?

"Whumpee?" Caretaker's voice shocks me back. He's knelt in front of me now, the woman busying herself elsewhere. He takes my wrist, gently pressing a thumb to it, checking my pulse.

"Sorry," I manage to choke out, "'m here." I reached over and took his hand, absorbing the warmth from it greedily.

"You're not looking good. I'm going to get you something." Then, realizing where I was situated, said "May I move you?"

I nodded. I knew I could trust Caretaker for the time being, but all my mind could conjour up was Whumper carrying me. He could control where I went at any time, forcing me to go places and do things I wouldn't dare repeat in words.

Caretaker was gentle, but I still felt myself tense up when he lifted me. He's not trying to hurt me, but my body doesn't know better. My head becoming light and vision blurring slightly, I am finally set onto a bed.

Caretaker sets me up, carefully positioning my leg and repeatedly confirming my comfort before walking off. Even then, he looked back at me before going into the next room.

I find a window next to me. I see myself in a weak reflection. My hair has grown out somewhat from when Whumper shaved it down, but many of the strands have turned grey from the stress. I look so thin. So painfully thin. I'm almost unrecognizable and it hasn't even been a year. From the sunken cheeks to the barely healed cut going across my right temple, I'm not even the same person anymore.

----

Tagging: @tildeathiwillwrite @whumperofworlds

[slitherinfest]

Wind Tunnels by @mrmxlemons

10,433 | WIP | E | Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Ron Weasley

“What do you have to offer Lord Voldemort that he does not already have, Ronald Weasley?” Voldemort drawls, unimpressed. The red eyes glow in a tunnel of nothing, red as an eclipse. More metallic and bright than a blood moon. Ron can’t tell what he sees in them beyond the black slits and the hooded, sunken gaze. He feels like he is being pierced, pinned into place. His shoulder burns with the intensity of which he holds the locket, clutched so tightly under his white knuckles Ron almost fears it will break even if he knows it's impossible. This close he can see the individual lines of Voldemort’s face stretched over high cheekbones and a long, sharp jaw. The coldness of the room highlights the iridescent and bluish quality to his scales, catching in the light like gems. In that moment Ron wishes he feels anger, tries to grapple it back and grit his teeth in rage to do something. Anything. Voldemort is here, and Ron can do something, even if it’s just trying. But that’s not who he is anymore. He hasn’t felt that way about Voldemort in a very long time. “Take it,” Ron whispers, voice low and wet as he thrusts out his fist and pushes the locket into Voldemort’s wand hand.

[chaoticstanley]

(Click for higher quality)

uh.... yeah, I'm into Starkid now.

Didn't really see that coming tbh. I've always liked their stuff, but it was more casual viewing. But with their Hatchetfield stories, yeah, that's what really sucked me in. And the fandom brain rot hit very quickly after finishing Nerdy Prudes Must Die. So, I made an OC. It's cringe and self indulgent, but I love him so much.

He's basically an anti-christ type, born into the Church of the Starry Children and his development was overseered by the Lords in Black. He has a very small amount of their powers in him, but he's still pretty strong and magical. He's always tired because he has constant night terrors. His sharp teeth are there in any form which has raised some eyebrows from normal people. His monster form has characteristics from each Lord in Black. He has Wiggly's tentacle hands, two mouths from Nibbly, Tinky's horns and legs, extra eyes from Blinky, and Pokey gave him a voice that can hypnotize people. His normal eyes also become sunken-in holes like the ones on Pokey's mask.

But his human eyes are grey and lifeless, almost like a dead fish. Sort of represents how he's not really his own person at the end of the day. Again, I'll get into more of that later. I stick with he/him just cause it's easier to write out, but he doesn't really care about gender and pronouns. Most people assume he's a guy so he just goes with it, but he also doesn't care to correct others if they call him a girl too. His attitude is very much, "eh, whatever" when it comes to that. He's sort of clueless when it comes to social interactions with humans, but he's not hostile. He's just kinda vibing until its time to end the world.

That's all for now. I'll write more about him when I have time between school and work. Oof.

[neonthewrite]

Grey Landing (Part 8)

I did it! Finally got the "Fire" prompt done, and we're back with Isaac and the giants. He's doing his best. I'm still having fun with the conlang I put together for them, so we'll just keep vibing with words that aren't translated (hopefully the vibes get across). But we at least get to some names!

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

(Part 9) (Part 10)

~~~

Traveling in a pocket was no simple cruise, no pleasant nighttime stroll. Isaac felt every heavy step the giant took. He rose and fell with a gait that shouldn’t be real. The pocket swung like a cramped hammock and bumped against a giant chest behind him. He didn’t see himself enjoying the sensation anytime soon, though the thought of letting the damn giants make a habit of this made him scowl briefly.

Behind him, in that broad chest, the giant cleared his throat. It sounded like a colossal growl, and Isaac flinched in spite of himself.

He looked over his shoulder and up to see the giant looking down at him. As soon as they made eye contact, the giant shifted his grip on the fish cooler he carried, propping it awkwardly against his side in order to free one hand. He only managed it for a few seconds, but it was enough to tap his own shoulder and say “Clei.”

Isaac couldn’t respond right away, instead lurching as the giant, Clei, had to regain his grasp on the cooler of fish. After the moment passed, though, he looked back up with a more appraising squint. “Clei,” he echoed, drawing out the ay a little more than he needed to. Then, he pointed at the man’s face and tried again. “Clei?”

The giant grinned and looked ahead at his companion, saying something quick and decidedly smug. The other giant scoffed and shook his head as he trudged on. Clei, however, wasn’t discouraged, and he glanced down at his pocket once more.

Isaac guessed the reason for that expectant look. He put a hand on his chest and said “Isaac.”

Clei blinked a few times. “Ay-sss … ?”

“Isaac,” Isaac replied, enunciating the soft z sound that Clei seemed to struggle with.

Clei laughed, a short, quiet sound, but before he could try again his companion barked a command at him. “Ugedal, suld plerfewn!”

Isaac hadn’t noticed, but when he looked ahead again he saw more light than just their lantern illuminating the woods. The footpath broadened into a clearing that hugged close around a truly enormous wooden cabin, the windows of which threw towering squares of light into the night. Over the clearing, the fog and some smoke from the chimney lent a hazy quality to the stars.

The construction itself was somewhat plain, with sturdy wooden walls and a gently sloped roof, creating the silhouette Isaac might expect out of a cabin if blown up to ridiculous proportions. Front steps led up to a porch canopied by some kind of netting draped overhead, though Isaac couldn’t see clearly what other decorations hung from it. The place was homey, if magnified beyond belief.

As the two fishermen trudged up those front steps, the wood creaked and echoed like it was greeting them. Once again, Isaac found himself marveling at something as simple as a sound, one so familiar and yet so strange at this scale.

From within the cabin, undeniable footsteps approached, a shadow briefly passing in front of one of the windows. Isaac tensed, turning his face away from the door just as someone within threw it open. More light spilled out over them, creating a silhouette in the doorway framed by the warm light of a lively fire blazing in a sunken hearth in the middle of the vast room beyond.

She was a stout woman, at least a head shorter than the other two giants, and a study in contrasts with them. Not only was she pale, with the firelight almost making her yellow hair glow gold, but her clothes bore multiple colors and patterns, patchworks and layers of skirts flowing around her. When she stepped back into the house to admit everyone, her cheerful smile came into the light.

“Gufnad! Clei!” she greeted as they tromped inside with their catch. She didn’t notice Isaac in Clei’s pocket, and he didn’t try to grab her attention. Instead, he looked around distractedly while the giants exchanged quick greetings.

Aside from the sunken hearth and the black iron pot hanging over its merry flames (a roaring blaze like a house going down to Isaac’s view but a cozy affair to the giant’s scale), the room sported sturdy furniture, most of it made of thick planks of the same wood that made up the cabin itself. Plush cushions adorned some armchairs near one side of the room, where a thick rug had long since given up its patterns to the passage of time and hundreds of giant footsteps. On that side of the room, doors of solid wood led elsewhere in the home.

Opposite the living area, and the giant’s apparent goal, was the kitchen and dining area. Counters lined the wall, along with a few large ice boxes. Herbs hung drying on delicate wires strung overhead, and something soaked in the basin. A few plates sat waiting on one end of the counter with some bread and cheese, along with empty bowls that would probably be filled from whatever was cooking over the fire.

Isaac noticed belatedly how fixated he was on those plates, and the simple bread on them. He winced as a noise in his middle reminded him of the persistent ache there. The scent of the nearby fish cooler in Clei’s arms had held off some of his hunger, but he couldn’t deny it completely. He was exhausted, and hadn’t eaten in far too long.

Not that he’d have a chance to inquire about the food. After Clei set his fish cooler down next to one of the ice boxes and straightened up, causing Isaac to brace himself for the lurching motions, the giant woman shrieked.

Everyone froze and looked at her. Isaac noticed with a sinking feeling that she was staring right at him, and her hands were over her mouth. “Clei, laor gre. Stei̯nd bid cras?!” Isaac could guess what she’d asked. He would ask what the hell he was too, if the positions were reversed.

He couldn’t help but feel put on the spot, though, and suddenly the cozy cabin felt much more foreboding. His hand twitched against the leather cord he’d used to tie his shield to himself. It wouldn’t be of much use at all, but if he had to, he’d go out swinging.

Clei held up his hands placatingly. “Trydi, sge,” he said, his tone much quieter, much calmer than hers, almost to the point of meekness.

The other giant (she’d called him Gufnad?) scoffed yet again. He took a step towards Clei, that customary frown on his face, and thrust a hand out, beckoning impatiently. Isaac didn’t need to understand their language to hear the very clear give it here in his barked command.

“I’d rather you not, lad,” Isaac spoke up, knowing they didn’t understand him either, but hoping his tone came across just as well. The lady giant squeaked in surprise to hear him form words, but Gufnad only narrowed his eyes.

Clei didn’t look ready to defy whatever this man was to him. Doubtful though he was, one of his hands inexorably moved to his pocket and coiled around Isaac despite his attempt to duck out of the way. There wasn’t much room for him to avoid a grab like that, and he found himself gathered up in a fist yet again. “Oi! Don’t you do it, Clei!”

Whatever Gufnad planned, though, it seemed he was going to get his way. Clei, after a beat of hesitation, muttered something before handing Isaac over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

@not-a-space-alien

@amenarae

[menzoberranzans-historian]

Shops & Activities in Menzoberranzan's districts:

THE BRAERYN:

The Wan Hag

Information Broker

During the Time of Troubles era and the beginning of the War of the Spider Queen, an information broker named Smylla Nathos operated in the Braeryn. A human, she captured the attention of a drow slaver aid on the surface world and returned to Menzoberranzan as something more than a slave and less than an honored guest of House Faen Tlabbar. For a time, she used her skill as a sorcerer and diviner-as well as her drow like poise, charm, and ruthlessness to serve as an advisor to Matron Ghenni'tiroth. But when she fell ill, and healing magic failed to offer remedy, her sickness was viewed as a curse inflicted by Lolth.

Escaping assassination by her former benefactors, Smylla fled to the Braeryn to eke out a new life among the dregs of drow society. Although her illness left her withered and weak, the Wan Hag, as she came to be known, employed her eldritch talents to cobble together a formidable web of informants and spies. However, by the beginning of the War of the Spider Queen, her illness had robbed her even of her divination talents, and she was soon killed by Ryld Argith.

Quaggoth Drool

Tavern

The Stench streets is notorious for its déclassé “drinking pits" those crude establishments where drow of every station go to forget about caste and rank for a few hours, guzzle raw spirits, and watch lesser creatures slaughter one another in bloody contests. One such place is the Quaggoth Drool. As is common inn such pits, revelers must surrender all weapons when they enter the tavern. Then they can get as drunk as they want, shout, argue, talk, and have a good fight. Priestesses often use magic to eavesdrop in such ruinous places, listening for treachery, plans for attacks on houses, or other business being discussed. The entertainment focuses on the sunken arena at the center of the common room where patrons wager heavily on brutal and often lethal pit matches.

DUTHCLOIM:

The Cathlyre

Exotic Bird Aviary

Anchored to a sweeping battlement of stalactites along the Clawrift's easternmost perimeter is a spectacular latticework enclosure crafted of basalt support beams and a mesh of calcified webbing. Within the free flight structure, soar countless types of avians from the World Above, including many exotic species (among them the namesake peacock-like cathlyre). From the large shop, perched along the ledge of the Clawrift, the birds are sold as pets, live targets, or roasted alive before the customer's eyes-a hot meal seasoned and done to order.

Rhauvais' Arms

Munitions Supplier

Proprietor Rhauvais del'Ygana, a tall and strong female drow, specializes in discreet manufacture and sale of exotic, high-quality ranged weapons and ammunition for her noble clientele. Specialty armaments of her design include “the spinagon” (a repeating hand crossbow), "the kocrachon” (a hovering, envenomed, dart-like projectile that strikes upona triggered condition), and "the hamatula” (a basilisk-hide bandolier that magically recalls any dagger thrown from its pockets); all are named after devils of the Nine Hells.

The Bazaar

The ever-changing, never-sleeping Bazaar is the commercial heart of Menzoberranzan. This circle of bare bedrock about 750 feet in diameter is a crowded, untidy labyrinth of stalls and hagglers. The ongoing trade fair attracts merchants and goods from all over Faerûn, and the drow go there to buy and sell almost everything imaginable.

Warriors training at the Academy patrol the Bazaar heavily. The patrols are performed to keep a lid on the violence, but they do not interfere with haggling, arguments, or fraudulent dealing. The merchants suffer the patrols to keep the house nobles in line. The Ruling Council maintains the patrols to prevent giving the merchants a reason to hire large numbers of guards that could grow into private armies.

By decree of the Ruling Council, the Bazaar contains no permanent structures. No stall can remain in one spot longer than 66 days. The law is intended to keep the Bazaar from dwindling away aspermanent buildings replace the stalls. Also, the constant shuffling forces buyers to tour the Bazaar, searching for favored stalls or merchants.

Fights and covert sabotage are common since vendors jostle for more space for their booths or try to avoid being relegated to a bad location. While merchants are not allowed to openly sell their space at the Bazaar, wise merchants arrange to trade spots with other established vendors for favors.

Merchants of all races and lands are welcome in the Bazaar, and shoppers can get almost anything they desire in its curtained booths and stalls, given enough patience and money. The stalls carry goods and services that range from the mundane to the wondrous. Tailors, potters, and crafters of every stripe can be found in the twisting paths of the Bazaar. Surgeons, potions, and herbal medicines can also be found there by those who want to avoid seeking healing from the priestesses of Lolth. Some vendors even sell wines, cheeses, and other exotics from the surface lands, and one is able to send and receive messages to and from the world above.

Living commodities can also be purchased in the Bazaar, and many drow go there to hire mercenaries and outlander wizards. While slaves can be bought there, most purchasers looking for such goods go to the Braeryn to fill those needs.

Bhaelundryn's Bestiary

Underdark Hostler

Heavily guarded by a dozen drow guards and gnoll overseers, this stall provides pack lizards and riding-lizard mounts, including the harnesses, goads, leadlines, and carrying frames for the creatures. VhurnBhaelundryn, an old, fat, affable, and heavilyscarred drow warrior, always has one of each sort oflizard harnessed and ready, but the cost is astronomical The fee does include immediate help from the overseers, however, in delaying pursuit, patrols, and anything up to angry high priestesses. In addition tobeasts, Vhurn sells "underdark packs" for adventur-ing in the Underdark and is knowledgeable about places to buy other gear and weapons.

Dhode's Fine Piwafwis

Tailor and Clothier

Dhode Lu’orz is a tailor who sells all manner of clothing cut in drow fashions, but he specializes in making piwafwis. He staffs this stall with six apprentices who he treats as little more than slaves. Dhode has a number of contacts in Sorcere willing to add enchantments to a piwafwi if the price is right.

Quild's Mobile Parlor

Information Broker

This stall is little more than a bench and a cart full of cheap trinkets. Quild, a wiry, muscled male drow, moves his cart and bench regularly to follow shifts in traffic around the Bazaar. He engages non-drow and other males with nonstop chatter while he works but is quiet and submissive before female drow. Quild is an excellent source for rumors and gossip, and he can give direction to most locales in and around the city. Of course, generous tips greatly enhance the accuracy of the information.

Sense of Sensuous Scents

Perfumery

The mixture of scents wafting on the light breeze of Menzoberranzan ensures that shoppers smell this stall long before they see it. Rauva Zoldyth, a female drow, sells a wide variety of incense, from bricks that burn in braziers to sticks that smolder slowly. She also sells oils and candles, most of which are treated to burn with a low eldritch-colored flame that won't hurt sensitive drow eyes. Rauva notes which priestesses buy what incense and how much, and discreetly sells this information to those who might be interested in knowing what houses are preparing certain rituals.

Shimmerdark's Decanter

Vintner & Alchemist

Named for its handsome, charming (and smart-mouthed) young drow proprietor, this stall stocks rare and fine potables from all over the Realms. Daelein Shimmerdark carries a wide selection, from fortified wines of the Sword Coast to hard liquors made by the dwarves. Daelein offers love potions and sleep poison to rich and discreet shoppers. For a small fee,he will also provide directions on the best places to sell stolen goods.

Whispers in the Dark

Courier

A human wizard named Fethlorn Kelapanch set up shop in the Bazaar late in the Spellplague era,specializing in delivering messages around the city. Young drow commoners, especially orphans, camp outside his stall, waiting for a chance to run a message and make a few coins. Fethlorn also has connections with many caravan masters and can arrange for messages to be delivered to far-off locations in the Underdark or even to the surface. He can also arrange for messengers to run the missive directly, but this is ruinously expensive. A number of spells and rituals for magical communication are at his disposal, allowing him to contact virtually anyone in Faerûn, including in the World Above.

EASTMYR:

Battered Beholder

Arms and Hardware

The inside of this weapons shop is almost as battered as the beholder (said to be Many Eyes) on the sign at the store front. The inventory varies widely from day to day.and the shop fences goods with no questions asked. A male dwarf named Olask Dhauluin runs the Beholder. Olask came to Menzoberranzan shortly after the War of the Spider Queen and remains there throughout the Spellplague era, which is a good indicator of his caution and deviousness. Olask lives in the floors above the shop, using monsters to guard it during non-business hours, when they are allowed to roam freely.

Calask's Hands

Hairstylist

This hair salon is named for the male human who founded the business during the Sable Years, Myrlyth Calask. His shop survived him, passing to a male drow commoner named Filraen after the War of the Spider Queen. The clientele claims that Filraen's delicate drow fingers are much better than Calask's, but Filraen keeps the name because of its novelty, which attracts customers. Filraen is secretly a spy for Bregan D'aerthe. He relays messages to other agents and reports on what he overhears. He never takes any action that could expose his cover.

Darkled Depths

Tavern

Located across from the abandoned House Kenaf incompound is the Darkled Depths, one of the most popular taverns in the city. The depth is a higher-class establishment than the drinking pits, though it does admit non-drow. It is renowned for its glowing drinks made from phosphorescent lichen and a wide variety of stuffed mushrooms. The tavern fills four floors carved from the interior of a stalagmite. One wide winding stair connects the floors, but several open locations allow drow to levitate from one floor to another. In addition to music and singing, the depths' features shadow plays performed on an illuminated canvas. The owner is a commoner drow female named Kialara, who oversees an almostentirely male staff.

Dylchanta's Furfeathers

Massage House

The best massage house in Eastmyr, Dylchanta's Furfeathers regularly hosts massage parties for large groups. The parlor is run by Dylchanta, a female drow commoner, who is assisted by a staff of a dozen masseuses evenly split between genders. Dylchantahas no aspirations for nobility, only for the wealth as successful business can bring and the influence that wealth can buy. Some in Eastmyr whisper that she ensures that Furfeathers remains the only good massage house in Eastmyr through threats and violence, but nothing has ever been proven. Her principal clients are members of House Hunzrin, but on any given day, members of any of the lesser houses and common families can be found there.

Narbondel's Shadow

Rooming House

Narbondel's Shadow is one of the two surviving rooming houses that cater to non-drow visitors in the city. Narbondel's Shadow is very expensive, but the service is excellent. Rates include all meals, basic drink, stabling, and a private room with a magical light source. A human adventurer named Morl founded the rooming house shortly before the Time of Troubles. He left the place to his son, but in the late Spellplague era, it is run by a halfling named Dalfred Noakes.

Dalfred had a violent encounter with a young Hunzrin noble, which left him scarred and without his left ear. He has never forgotten or forgiven the noble. To this day, he makes full use the rooming house's prime location overlooking the Clawrift, and a connected small cave system that does not join up with Dark Dominion, to smuggle goods and hide people fleeing angry drow nobles. Dalfred also has contacts throughout Eastmyr and Braeryn for clients looking to discreetly hire or purchase needed magic, healing, weapons, and other gear. He plays a dangerous game that will likely get him killed in the near future.

NARBONDELLYN:

Red Tears

Cartel of Gem-Cutters & Moneylenders

Red Tears is a secretive consortium of lesser merchants that have banded together against the most conspicuous and haughty merchant houses of Menzoberranzan. This cartel of “dealers in the shadows”was formed in the Year of the Vitriolic Sage (1047DR) by a sardonic one-eyed drow known as Farseeing Phurn. Phurn is credited by those in the know for fomenting the bitter rivalry between prominent gem-cutting Houses Belek'tyr and Shadalun-a feud that has resulted in countless assassinations and significant loss of profits over the decades. Today, Red Tears is an expansive criminal organization with a coterie of smugglers, fences, racketeers, thugs, and cut throats operating throughout much of the city. Phurn governs his illicit empire from his compound in central Narbondellyn, carved from the ruins of House Tuin'Tarl. The organization takes its name from a rare teardrop-shaped gemstone of unusually-vivid, blood-crimson hue in Phurn's possession.

Brothers Jaszarr

Perfumers

Narbondellyn is home to the wealthiest (and most expensive) perfumers in the city. In the crowded,damp underground, perfuming is an art born of necessity. The best drow scents mingle with less desirable smells to mute everything into a pleasurable background. The brothers Dhellorn and Dirziir Jaszarr are together regarded as the finest purveyors of perfume in the city. Sold only to the finest drow of high society, their scents are woven with magical compulsions that make them more than simple cosmetics. In the right hands, such a perfume is the key to power and influence-two of every drow's favorite things. Unknown to all but a discreet clientele, the talents of the brothers Jaszarr extend to the crafting of toxic potions and ointments as well. For a hefty sum, these poisons-often seamlessly blended into their exotic perfumes-can cripple or slay a rival with little chance of detection.

Feathered Masqueax

Theater and Festhall

Unlike most playhouses in the city, which stage low-brow comedies, the Feathered Masqueax prides itself on hosting only innovative, well-acted dramas. Mostastonishing for revelers in attendance is the fact that many of the actors in the troupe are, in fact, undead; Their performances flawless and eerily lifelike. At show's end, privileged clientele are welcomed back-stage to enjoy food, libations, and the company of performers they fancy.

The owner and proprietor of the theatre company is an enigmatic male drow named Phaless. Nearly seven feet tall and always shrouded in a dark, blood-splattered robe resembling a funeral shroud, Phaless strikes an imposing figure. A tiny animated skeleton pendant pinned to his robe reveals to those in the know that the drow is a deathsinger, a rare bardic practitioner renowned for songs of dark glory and necromancy.

Black Sapphire Bath

Public Bathhouse

One of a dozen public baths scattered about the city,the Black Sapphire Bath is primarily a gathering place for males seeking to rid themselves of a day's sweat and grime, not to mention a place to socialize and relax in leisurely comfort away from the over-bearing presence of females. Patrons can be bathed by servants or left alone as they wish. Many fires keep the octagonal pools warm, its steaming mineral water scented with a choice of fragrances. Although not a festhall, there are no rules against guests enjoying more amorous activities with each other or with the bathing staff if additional coin is forthcoming.

WEST WALL:

Elstearn's Escorts

Hireling Agency

As one of the few businesses that has flourished in West Wall, Elstearn's Escorts provides carte-blanch services of intelligent, well-groomed, and attractive drow of either gender to its discerning clientele. Although some clients avail themselves of the agency for simple carnal pleasures, the escort service's pool of diverse hirelings has a wide variety of skillsets useful to Menzoberranyr social climbers. Many are hired as well-spoken and charismatic escorts for social functions; others as guides and interpreters of outlanders visiting the city. Some even seek out Elstearn's Escorts for well-trained bodyguards when business takes them to dangerous parts of the city or for quick excursions into the surrounding Underdark.

Xeva's Den

Gaming Pavilion & Tavern

The common room of this drinking establishment offers its discerning patrons a quiet place to enjoy a relaxing game of sava, table dice (backgammon), or oldmen's bones (pick-up sticks). Gamers looking to make wagers can do so in Xeva's private rooms. Elderboy Aumon Baenre is a frequent guest at Xeva's, sometimes gambling away hundreds of platinum in an evening.

Source:

[mara-xx217]

Ending H (Fear & Hunger) Ch. 4- Hidden in Plain Sight

It looked like a monster yet it put up an act innocence. Monsters come in all forms in this gods forsaken place and they were close to you from the very beginning...

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rape/Noncon, Broken Bones, Fisting, Monster, Monster Biology, Blood, Death, Necrophilia

You stood in utter shock at the monstrosity before you. What the fuck was it?! What even was this place?! There was an entire other country below the dungeon, as far as you could tell, and with this new country there were brand new monstrosities that defied all logic and understanding. This place shouldn’t exist. That thing shouldn’t exist! But they did, and while you were standing in the midst of a stinking, rotting, impossible city standing before you waited yet another creature that would surely mangle and maim you in much the same way that your less fortunate comrades have been murdered before your eyes. Only one of your shield brothers remained and he incessantly pulled on your arm in an attempt to wake you from your stupor.

“What the fuck are you doing?! We’ve gotta move! NOW-!” His harsh tone was quickly choked back as the gangly creature began to walk it’s too long, one too many limbs in a disjoined and very unsettling pattern right down the narrow alleyway they stood it. 

You both were frozen in fear. The closer it got, the more you could make out the nearly human features of its face. Nearly… but not quite. It was grotesque in every sense of the word, almost… effeminate but also distinctly masculine. Androgynous but it was somehow at both extremes of either gender and somewhere between them both, a concept that was alien to you and left you feeling deeply unnerved. Yet you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Your eyes flicked down its bare body and you immediately regretted it.

“W-Wha- t-the fuck…?” He saw it too. Your companion, Frederick muttered under his breath. He saw it too, that… thing between its legs. Not a penis, certainly not a vagina, it was a… sagging sack of- Oh God you think you’re about to be sick. 

The creature’s lips seemed to have an ever present smile ghosting its full lips. Its eyes were slightly sunken into its head, giving it the illusion of having dark coloured eye makeup around its sockets. An almost healthy dusting of flush covered its cheek, and from its face alone you could have mistaken them for an odd human being, but the spikes about its head and… everything else made it so there was no mistaking it for anything other than a monster of a time long forgotten. It fluttered its eyelashes at you (if the thing even had any-) and blinked at the two of you. Slowly. Regarding you two as it began to hum softly to itself. 

Frederick tugged on your arm again, though it was significantly weaker than from before. Your sword was loosely gripped in your hand, loose enough that its tip landed on the ground with a near deafening thud as the noise ricocheted off the empty streets of the dead city. It startled you enough that you and Frederick both regained your composers but it was already too late. This thing was already a mere few feet from where you both stood and now there was only one of two things the two of you could do:

Run or fight.

You raised your sword with a trembling hand and weakly called out “S-Stay where you are! D-Don’t come any closer!” Frederick backed you up with his own sword, his more steady but still had the same trembling quality that yours did. The creature didn’t move any closer but it didn’t move away, either. It softly giggled to itself, something gentle, like a bell, and nearly childlike though there was something terribly sinister hidden underneath its tone. 

“Didn’t you hear them?! They said ‘FUCK OFF!’ We’ll kill you where you stand, monster!” His voice is loud enough to echo throughout the city and your gut suddenly twists in fear. What if something else heard him?! The gangly thing seemed to pout a little, its shoulders slumping and its limbs going limp. A soft whine escaped its throat and for the briefest of moments… you actually felt sorry for the unfortunate being. 

It picked in between the crumbling mortar that was wedged between the paved tiles of the alleyway. One of its three feet began to tap against the ground, a rhythm that was totally unfamiliar to you. It looked up at you and smiled again.

“Teeheehehee~” A long, multi joined arm reached for you. Frederick pulled your arm again, much harder than he did in the first moments this creature appeared before you two. He managed to force you a step back but you yanked your arm free of his grasp. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He hissed under his breath. He took two steps back and you remained in place. You blinked as you stared down at the three legged creature that sat with its legs splayed in every which direction.

“I… I don’t-” It reached for you again and Frederick took another step back.

“You… You have lost your mind!” It wasn’t said like a question but rather like a factual statement. 

It touched your leg. Gently, as though you were made of glass. Something stirred inside your chest once more. What if… as monstrous as it was… What if it wasn’t a monster? It tugged on your shin guard curiously, not hard enough to pull you off balance, not hard enough for you to even feel it. You only knew it was touching you because you were watching it with your own eyes. You could hear Frederick shuffling away more, muttering quietly under his breath.

“-fucked up. This is fucked up- We’re gonna- They’re gonna-” The creature giggled softly once more as its long fingers shifted away from your shin and towards the back of your calf. A part of you could almost smile. Maybe it wasn’t so bad… You were about to lean down so you could get a better look at its inquisitive eyes when suddenly.

SNAP!  

It took you an entire second to realize what just happened. Your face twisted in agonized horror as you watched your leg bone snap in half. A deafening scream pierced the stagnant air of the lost city, accompanied by the sound of rushed footsteps retreating in the opposite direction. Before you fell flat on your back from standing on painful and unbalanced legs, your other limbs were snatched and you were pinned flat against one of the alleyway’s walls. 

Hysterical sobs were pulled from your chest as your broken leg was still held in a bone crushing grip. The way it pressed against your armour-! Your eyes darted around, wide and bloodshot from tears and stress, desperately looking for someone, fucking anyone to hurry up and save you…!

“F-F-FREDER- AAAAHHHH!!!” A strangled scream left your throat as your arm was twisted until the bone was wrung in half. It shouldn’t- It couldn’t fucking move like that! The raw strength of this creature was otherworldly and was impossible for its size! In between screams and dry heaves, you looked for Frederick, expecting him to already be behind the creature and preparing to strike it down-!

But he wasn’t there. You didn’t know him that well- you didn’t even know his family name- but here in the dungeon of Fear & Hunger, normal social boundaries and understanding was shattered into a thousand pieces. There were so many times that he could have left you for dead but chose to protect you and you did the exact same for him. So why… Why…? Why?! Why why why why WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY-?!  

CRUNCH!  

The only sound that leaves your throat is a gargled groan. The tips of your other foot now faced the wrong direction. Your head hung low as you stared at your broken and mangled body. From the corner of the street, someone peeks out into the alleyway where you were being brutally assaulted. 

You barely felt your fourth and final limb snapping in two. Bile, saliva and tears dribbled down your chin and ran down onto your armoured chest. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult the more pain and trauma you were subjected to. One of your legs was released but it provided no relief to the agonizing pain that you were in. Even the simple pull of your legs hanging limply caused enough pain to make you believe that you would die at any moment. You wish you were already dead. You wished it now, even though the worst was yet to come….

The blinding pain in your mangled limbs masked the feeling of pressure building between your legs. The cold air against your nether regions was barely a whisper in your mind when compared to the white hot numbness that shot through your body. Even the feeling of something cool and hard pressing between your legs didn’t elicit a reaction from you. It was only when the creature all but punched into your body cavity did another tortuous, ear piercing scream rise from the depths of your soul. 

It only took one, forceful motion for it to sink all the way up to its first elbow. Blood gushed from the wound, coating both your trousers, the creature’s arm and the ground below you. It began to pull away and your screams followed it, rising in pitch before it was choked away as you began to vomit uncontrollably. 

Your flesh was being pushed away- Your organs were being fisted deeper and deeper up into your chest cavity. Blood rushed up your throat and streamed down your chin as your body began to shake. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You were dying…  

The creature- The Harvestman- gingerly removed his arm from the new hole he has made for himself. A rush of warm, scarlet blood followed in its wake and painted both the ground and his legs in its beautiful pigment. He released your legs and gently moved to lower you to the ground, careful to not jostle your bent limbs or your loose, churning insides before he had the opportunity to have his fun. 

Your breaths came out in short, gasping breaths. Your face was pale and your eyes were unfocused, staring at the dark blankness of Ma’habre’s sky. The Harvestman giggled to himself as it leaned over your broken body, the sack of skin that contained his genitals unfurling and doubling in both length and girth until it bobbed and swayed with the Harvestman’s slightest movements. 

The bulbous, weeping head of his cock easily pushed its way into the slick, soft tissue in between your legs. It was nearly twice as thick as his fist and arm, so the Harvestman had to put genuine effort into the thrusting of his hips as he raped your batter body. You weren’t quite a corpse yet but you were hardly alive, either. You made no sound as your insides were defiled, not so much as a wheeze or a whimper of pain. You were fading fast but you still had the remnants of your fleeting consciousness and you were at least partially aware of your finality and the manner in which you would die. 

Your perspective constantly shifted as though you were on a boat in rocky waters. Wetness soaked your legs and your back, an ever growing pool of your life force that was only leaking more and more with each passing second and with each new violation the monster that forced itself upon you administered upon your ruined body. Somewhere in the haze of pain and blood loss, you had a moment of recognition. 

At the end of the alleyway, peering in from the corner, a familiar set of eyes watched your brutal end. You already looked dead, with your limbs twisted at impossible angles and your ash grey skin and the lake of blood that encompassed your body that grew every time that thing raped your battered form. It was sickening… But Frederick couldn’t look away. 

The Harvestman stroked your blood and sweat soaked hair, an eerily sweet and loving gesture in the face of the evilness that it was currently inflicting onto you. Frederick watched as the skin of your abdomen shifted and moved in unnatural fashions, following the slow and nearly gentle rhythm the creature had set for itself. The sellsword shifted in place, feeling as though he was on the verge of vomiting yet… 

His cock was rock hard. Every small movement on his behalf was heavenly against the painful throbbing of his manhood. The longer he watched your rape, the harder he became. Frederick’s eyes met your glossy and seemingly dead ones, a shiver running down his spine as he considered was the creature was experiencing as it fucked your bodily cavity. Was it still warm? It had to be soft, right…? His palm found his erection and he made no attempt to hide the depraved act he was partaking in as he watched his comrade’s slow and torturous death. 

Ever since he entered the dungeon, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The moments where you were in need, that you were nearly assaulted and those monsters nearly forced themself upon you, the times you would rest your eyes for a brief moment as he kept watch… Every single time he considered what it would be like to simply take what he’s wanted from the very beginning. And now he doesn’t have to pretend that he has ever cared to keep his morals and actions in check…  

Through your blurred vision, you saw the rushed, jerking movements of Frederick’s arm about his pelvis. A few stray tears streamed from the corners of your eyes. You were damned from the start… Your comrades- they all met their ends when they would scout ahead with Frederick. It was so easy to believe that it was rotten luck- they met a terrible fate while he barely escaped to live to tell the tale. It was all bullshit. You were the one that he wanted from the very beginning, and when the opportunity arose where he could save you for the very last time-

-he didn’t.

He watched as this thing broke you to pieces and violated the sanctity of your being. And he liked it. You cursed him with your final gasps for air. You moved one of your mangled arms, unable to control it, it simply stretched out at an awkward angle in his direction. You couldn’t move your mouth, you couldn’t even speak from the pain and the blood that drowned you from the inside out, but you cursed him and cursed him with every fiber of your being with the remaining life you had left. You would fade, knowing that you were betrayed in the worst way possible and knowing that you would never be able to exact your revenge onto him in this life. But you could hope he would face his end in a fitting manner, and you would hope, until you croaked your last breath and the light left your eyes long before the Harvestman would finish with your limp and mutilated corpse.

The Harvestman played with your dead body until it grew cold. With one last stroke of your hair and your frozen face, he left you, laying in a pool of your own blood and bodily waste and covered in the gore and cum that he pulled from your corpse. He shuffled away, whistling to himself a jolly tune, as though the horrifying act he just parktook in never happened at all. Frederick watched the creature lumber away and waited until it turned the corner and its whistling had faded into silence before he slunk back into the blood and gore soaked alleyway.

If he wasn’t so much of a coward, he could have had you when you were alive. His boots splashed in your blood as he approached your still body. Even dead and drained of blood, you were exactly what he wanted. His belt was still unbuckled and his hand was still in his trousers, idly pumping and stroking his shaft as he crouched between your legs.

You wouldn’t mind anymore, right? You’re dead, anyway…  

There was a single, gaping hole where your genitals once were. Again, a wave of nausea washed over him but the thought of finally sticking it in you and doing as he pleased overpowered the human part of him that revolted against the beast inside of him. Frederick pulled his trousers down around his thighs and leaned over your corpse. He stroked himself a few more times before he lined himself up with your new hole.

Your insides were cool and wet and sticky and so soft… Frederick didn’t know exactly where his dick was going or what he was thrusting into but he didn’t really care. Any apprehension that he had immediately vanished as he sunk up to the hilt into you. You were almost too cool for his liking but the thought of fucking you- alive or dead- pretty much midigated whatever unpleasantness that he felt in the moment. 

“Haaa… F-Fuck-” Frederick moaned your name as he straddled your broken legs. Your body rocked and bounced limply every time he thrusted his hips. He grabbed your side with one hand and wrapped his other hand around your throat. Cold, dead- It didn’t matter. He had fantasized about how you would cry and scream and beg him to stop as he forced himself upon you… or how you would submit to him and allow him to do as he wished, sobbing and moaning you took him over and over again…

When he pulled away from you, his cock and trousers were caked in blood. Frederick didn’t bother to clean himself off, instead he simply tucked himself away and re-buckled his belt. He was still panting, the aftershocks of his final orgasm still resonating from his core to the tip of his dick. His seed spilled out from your body and he stroked your ice cold face with the tips of his fingers. 

Ah, well…  

Frederick took a lock of your hair and cut it off. It wasn’t much but it was you, and that was all he wanted. He placed it in his pocket and readjusted himself once more, his cock still feeling painfully hard. He left you where you lay, corpse defiled and already showing signs of decay in the dead city hidden underneath the dungeon of Fear & Hunger. There wasn’t much left for him here, so he decided to leave as quickly as he could. No one would know what transpired here… He could go back to his old life and he can leave this all behind him. 

He fingered the hair in his pocket, his fantasies still playing in his head interlaid with the moments he spent with your dead body. Frederick could almost laugh a little, his mouth salivating and his cock throbbing with enough intensity that it nearly crippled him. He rubbed at his clothed cock. The sharpness he felt didn’t seem out of place to him, for whatever reason. The need to fuck- to defile as he just did to you- grew more and more prominent in his mind, until it was nearly all consuming and took control of his being. Somewhere in the midst of the memory of watching and jerking off to your torture and rape and engaging in relations with your corpse, your voice rung out in the hollow streets of Ma’habre, clear and biting.

“Was it worth it…?”  

Ending H- Hidden in Plain Sight  

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

[trialbymagicks]

Revisiting Hidden Expedition: Everest (2007) [PC, Steam]

In honor of the 70 years since Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary became the first known people to reach Mt. Everest's summit, let's embark on another Hidden Expedition with the second game in the series. Hidden Expedition: Everest, here we come! 🏔️

Plot

The Hidden Expedition Club sends you, their best thrill-seeking explorer fresh from the depths of the Titanic wreckage, to race to the top of Mount Everest. Armed with a keen eye and the advice of “expert Everest climber” Ed Viesturs, you have all the information you need to beat the competition – two spry old ladies and their bereaved ferret, a couple of bookworms, and a group of Big Fish Games fans – never mind the fact that you presumably have no prior training for such a feat. But first, you must track an eccentric mountain climber across three continents to discover what he knows about a secret passageway through Mount Everest before you challenge the mountain yourself.

Introduction

For the second game in the series, Big Fish Games partnered with National Geographic Ventures and Ed Viesturs to create Hidden Expedition: Everest, which took the casual game market by storm upon its release on June 1, 2007. In fact, it was so successful that it was the first game in the series to get the iOS treatment, subsequently proving to the company that the mobile market was also a profitable one.

While Titanic’s set dressing tapped into the world’s curiosity and fascination regarding the famous sunken wreck, Everest’s mission was to inspire in its players a sense of adventure and love for the world we live in. Boasting more than 30 scenes from around the world and exclusive footage from Ed Viesturs’ travels, this game certainly makes an effort to shove as much as it can into a small package. Unfortunately, some scenes may not be as sensitively or accurately depicted as they could have been. Some of this can be blamed on the lack of theme in the randomized hidden object lists, but certain aspects do fall victim to the tendency to generalize entire cultures.

Everest At A Glance

The start menu is a fantastic display of this game’s improved quality. Epic music immediately puts you in the mood for a high stakes international expedition, which the soundtrack continues to deliver on throughout the game, and the scenery already lets you know that you’re going to be treated to some beautiful sites.

The most interesting new feature, a black book, sits in the bottom left corner and there is now a high score section for cataloguing your completion time. Upon pressing play at the start of a new game, the National Geographic documentary footage rolls and we are treated to an early example of how cutscenes would eventually become a selling point of the genre.

Unfortunately, it becomes evident right away that the clarity of the Steam port’s hidden object scenes is lacking compared to its predecessor. The images appear fuzzier and objects blend in almost seamlessly with the scenery. This appears to have been an intentional part of the gameplay designed to raise the difficulty level and encourage players to use some of the new features – such as a more effective pause option and the hourglass – to help them on their quest. Objects can take a lot longer to find as a result, though thankfully some scenes cause less eye strain than others and the game isn’t unplayable by any means.

Once again, Steam reviews on the store page reported concerns about the game not opening to full screen or being too clunky on a higher end PC. So, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I did not have either problem – even running it on a Windows 10 system!

Fair warning: Just like with Hidden Expedition: Titanic, you are required to grant the program permission to make changes to your computer upon first startup. This appears to be what allows the game to automatically change its resolution and open to full screen in order to accommodate for its original smaller size… which I suspect may be a contributing factor to the fuzzy image quality, but I’m no expert. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, you may want to pass on picking it up because the game will not run if you don’t give it permission. You can, of course, choose to play the game in windowed mode later on if that is a more comfortable fit for you.

But fear not, the screen resolution is immediately restored to your previous setting once the game is closed! During my multiple replays, there was only one instance where I had to manually reset the resolution for my screen after closing the game. Admittedly, the main difference between Titanic and Everest is that the former is way less clunky about the resolution difference and doesn’t hinder me from using the Windows Start button to return to my default resolution desktop without quitting.

Regardless, I am happy to finally be able to experience the game in full after so many years of burning curiosity!

How To Play

Although Hidden Expedition: Everest kicks the difficulty level up a notch, the gameplay remains just as intuitive as its predecessor and the rules are also simple to grasp:

Complete all scenes (plus bonus round) in each level to move on to the next level.

Each level is timed, allotting a certain number of minutes to complete.

Find all hidden objects in each scene before the timer runs out.

Clicking on the wrong object too quickly or too often negatively impacts your position in the race.

A short amount of time can be gained by finding the hidden hourglass in each scene.

Finding all 5 gems in each scene grants you an extra hint for the level.

There are 4 zones you must navigate throughout this game, but don’t let the small number fool you! Somewhat like a nesting doll, each zone consists of multiple levels inside which are two or three locations you must visit and complete the hidden object scenes within before you can move on to the next stretch of this grand adventure.

If you thought the time limit for each Titanic dive was stressful, Everest raises the bar even higher. This time, instead of racing against your dwindling oxygen supply, you’re racing against three competing AI teams who move at randomized speeds to keep you on your toes. Your goal is to gain and maintain the lead by completing each level before the AI teams do.

For every item you find, your marker – a white arrow located along the bottom of the item list in every hidden object scene – is moved forward in the race. Unfortunately, if you misclick too many times on the screen, you will be penalized and the AI teams’ markers will be moved forward, which can potentially cost you your lead. But because fortune favors those with good eyesight, if you find the hourglass hidden in the scene, time will stop and the AI teams will be frozen in place just long enough for you to catch up and scoot ahead. (We don’t need to address the fact that this implies some type of time-bending magic in the Hidden Expedition universe, but do keep that tidbit of knowledge in your back pocket for later.)

At the end of each level, the game will show you the current times and ranking for each team. It should be fairly easy to finish in first place, but just in case you somehow didn’t, this screen is your chance to return to the level and replay it for another shot at the lead! This is something you probably will want to do if you happen to be a completionist.

Collecting all 5 gems in a scene grants you one extra hint, which is difficult to do because the gems are blurry and hard to pinpoint in some scenes due to the game’s odd resolution. Take note that each level grants you 3 hints and you have the opportunity to earn 2 or 3 extra hints if you find all of the gems in the level. While your stash of 3 to 6 hints do carry over between scenes in the level you find them in, they do not carry over between levels or zones. So, strategize your use of them wisely before you lose them!

After all hidden object scenes in a level have been cleared, you will be presented with a minigame. This will either be an extra hidden object scene or a puzzle where you must piece together some type of map or artifact that is vaguely connected to the plot. Complete the challenge before time runs out and the mission will reward you with the next clue to the whereabouts of the mysterious expert adventurer that you’ve been tailing, propelling you forward in your brazen attempt to discover his secrets.

On the plus side, due to the added length of the game, you can now return to the start menu or quit the game in the middle of a level without fear of the level resetting on you like the dives in the Titanic game would. You can even return to the map during your exploration of a hidden object scene and jump around to the other available scenes without losing your progress. The number on the red location markers will remind you of how many items you have left to find in each scene.

As usual, you will be asked to complete one final (rather intuitive) puzzle upon reaching the summit to claim your victory! Despite its intimidating appearance, this one is very forgiving and does not appear to be timed, so don’t sweat the small stuff here.

How very “aliens built the secret tunnel” of you, Big Fish Games.

First Time Features

In keeping with the Hidden Expedition series’ educational format, “world-famous mountaineer and Mount Everest climber” Ed Viesturs keeps butting in to narrate fun facts or “helpful advice” about his knowledge and every time he does I feel like I’m back in a lecture hall politely waiting for the teacher to stop talking so I can leave. His line delivery is so stiff it’s clear that he’s reading from a script, but given that this is the first time voiceovers were introduced to the Hidden Expedition series I can’t help but find it charming.

This is also the first Hidden Expedition to include a journal feature for storing educational trivia gathered throughout the adventure.

Here, it takes the form of Ed Viesturs’ photo album where you can view photographs and videos from his travels (which he dutifully narrates over, making him seem even more like a world history professor flexing on his students with his vacation photos) alongside his personal biography. Click on his face and he’ll even recite one of a handful of prerecorded lines from his motivational speeches! New photos and voiceovers unlock as you clear zones in first place, and he’ll certainly make sure to inform you that new content is available as you proceed. You can return to the start menu to check out his travel logs anytime.

Similarly, this game introduces the next new feature – a collection of secret items (like a pumpkin) that you can find in hidden object scenes!

This seems to be the predecessor of the admittedly more straightforward “morphing items” feature in later games. The “secret” in the name is the key word here because the game will not tell you about their existence until you happen to click on one either by accident or out of curiosity to see if that object will match a description on your item list.

This feels a little backwards, considering the game makes a point of punishing players for misclicking and doesn’t exactly encourage exploration. But since Ed Viesturs keeps reminding us that climbing Everest is a challenge, I suppose it only makes sense that this game should be filled with unforeseen challenges too!

The Story So Far...

When we last saw our intrepid adventurer, Eris was hanging out in the remains of a deep-sea death trap, aka: the wreckage of the RMS Titanic. But diving – yes, diving – 12,600 feet below sea level was the equivalent of a nice vacation for this adrenaline junkie because they are fresh off the dive and raring to ascend more than 29,000 feet above sea level to the summit of Mt. Everest!

For some undisclosed reason – most likely related to the suspicious disappearance of a mysterious mountain climber in Kathmandu who was rambling about a secret tunnel through the mountain – the Hidden Expedition Team has chosen Eris (who quickly teams up with professional mountaineer Ed Viesturs) to represent them in a race against the public to reach the summit.

But of course not all is what it seems and who – or what exactly – should they discover along the way? Well…

Catch the full story as soon as I finish wrapping my head around the conspiracy board I've accidentally created.

Resources

For more information on the series, check out the Hidden Expedition Wikipedia page, the Big Fish Games Hidden Expedition Website, and the Hidden Expedition TV Tropes page.

If you’re curious to read more about the National Geographic partnership with Big Fish Games, you can check out this Information Week article.

In a shocking twist that surprised absolutely no one, National Geographic christened Ed Viesturs with the title of Adventurer of the Year in 2005 upon the completion of his 18-year mission to reach the summits of all fourteen of the world’s 8000-meter peaks without supplemental oxygen. After all these years, you can still keep up with what he’s doing at his website, many passages from which are used verbatim in the game.

Note: This article was originally posted on WordPress on May 29, 2023.

[heykoonsy]

Word Count: 2.3k+

Pairing: OC x Jake, OC x Danny

Summary: Charlotte’s stay at the Somerset Sapiens Farm was short-lived, her intelligence quickly astounding the owner; Henry Somerset himself. Hoping to become a client, Charlotte is gifted to an eccentric vampire known for supplying the wealthy elite with high quality humans for their gatherings. Charlotte, however, intends to use this vampire’s power and connections another way.

Content Warnings: 18+ for mature themes

Chapter 3: Cruelty

Charlotte felt a heaviness in her chest from the moment she got up this afternoon. It was a troublesome thing to carry around, weighing on her mind as she ate, showered and cleaned the apartment. She knew that it was here to stay when even exercise at the in-house gym didn’t persuade it to move on. It only seemed to get worse the more time went on–and there was only one explanation for that: today she was meeting with Danny. Today was the day she would be ending things once and for all. 

Charlotte was now in Julio’s vehicle, the one he drove around in while playing the part of the lackey. She looked out the window, where the street lights were bathing the sidewalk in a yellow glow. That heaviness, which had rooted itself so deep in her chest earlier, was somehow digging deeper and the feeling was all-consuming. 

She was vaguely aware that this anxiety that plagued her was her conscience telling her not to run away again. It was screaming at her to face her fears head-on. But Charlotte knew better than to trust that shrill voice, the one that told her that things would not be so bad. She knew better.

“We’re almost there,” Julio said, keeping his eyes forward on the road ahead of them. 

Charlotte nodded, taking note as the wipers swept across the windshield to remove some rain droplets that had collected there. It was a dreary night, the wind picking up and sending a small bit of precipitation down to Earth to greet Charlotte on a terrible day. Just like the weather, she too felt like crying. And, like the weather, she couldn’t change that fact. 

Julio pulled up to a curb beneath a street light and put the vehicle in park. 

“We’re here already?” Charlotte asked, more to herself than to Julio. 

Julio nodded just the same. 

Charlotte took a minute to take in their meeting place. It was a well known office building that Julio’s real estate partners worked at. None of his employees were in the office today, Julio mentioned earlier, so they could take as much time as they needed. Charlotte watched as the lights of an office on the third floor turned on. 

“Looks like he came,” Julio said. 

“Of course he did,” Charlotte said breathlessly. Danny wouldn’t give up an opportunity like this in a million years. Her heart ached again. 

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Julio said, noticing how despondent Charlotte had become. 

Charlotte nodded, then after a deep breath she opened up her door. “Let’s go.”

Charlotte waited for Julio to join her on the sidewalk before they made their way inside the lobby of the building. Charlotte let Julio be her guide as they took the elevator up to the third floor. She counted her steps as they made their way down the hallway. Julio stopped in front of the door of the office that Danny was on the other side of. There was no doubt in her mind that he was eagerly awaiting her entry. 

“Do you want me in there with you?” He whispered. 

Charlotte shook her head. Then, with a small glance upwards at him, she left Julio in the hallway. 

Danny stood on the opposite side of the room, clearly too antsy to sit on any of the comfortable chairs in the office. Danny whipped his head around–although Charlotte was unsure if the click of the door alerted him, or her familiar scent.

“Charlotte,” he breathed. 

“Hey Danny,” she said, locking eyes with him. 

She got a decent look at him as he tripped over himself to get over to her. His hair was a frazzled mess–most likely because of the weather. His eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, almost like he hadn’t been sleeping these last few days. Before she could say anything else, Danny swept her into another strong, warm hug–one that she’d been missing for so many years now. Just like before, her eyes started to fill with tears. 

“I’m sorry about last time,” Charlotte said quietly over the lump in her throat. 

He shushed her lightly, in that sweet, soft voice he used back then. “It’s okay,” he kept saying as he comforted her.

After a few minutes, Charlotte pulled away from him. “I need to tell you something.”

Danny pulled her along to a small loveseat in the center of the room. “What is it?”

“I wasn’t at the farm for very long,” she began, searching Danny’s eyes. 

What she found was an immediate relief. He sighed. “How did you find Velasquez?”

“I was gifted to him by the owner of Somerset,” she said. “I’ve been working for him for a while now.”

Danny grabbed her hand. “That big guy, from before, is he here? He hasn’t hurt you?”

“Julio? No,” Charlotte shook her head. “He was just worried about me.”

Danny nodded. “I know the feeling,” Danny said, shifting his gaze to the floor. “Seriously, what kept you from finding us?”

Charlotte wiped at the tears welling in her eyes with her free hand. What was the best way to answer his question? I didn’t want to find you. No, too direct–she was trying to lie. I was too busy. Too large of a lie–she’d thought about them nearly every day. “Velasquez hired someone to help me find you,” she said. “But running into you at that party was pure happenstance.”

“Fate,” Danny said underneath his breath. 

“I wanted to make sure all of you were okay,” Charlotte said, the lump in her throat making her voice crack. “Are you? Okay?”

Danny looked at her for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, looking away. “We’re uh…fine.”

Charlotte sniffed, and rose from her seat. “Our investigator could only track down Josh. He’s been doing some protesting I hear. And from what I know, Sam hasn’t been home.” 

Danny nodded, “They’ve been keeping themselves busy.”

“He couldn’t find you,” Charlotte looked back at him with a tired smile. “We were hoping Josh would visit, or Sam would send out a letter to you from his apartment. But they never did.”

“And Jake?”

Charlotte froze. She shook her head.

For a moment, the two of them just sat there, taking in the moment. Charlotte could tell that this meeting was as difficult for him as it was for her. 

“I was shocked,” Danny said quietly, “after seeing you. I didn’t know what to do.” 

Charlotte looked over at him but stayed quiet. 

“The first thing I did was pull out my phone–to call Sam–to call everybody,” Danny hesitated. “But I couldn’t.”

Charlotte tried to hide her anxiety. “What stopped you?”

Danny looked at her, deep into her eyes. “It wasn’t what you wanted.”

Charlotte looked away from him–hiding her expression–like just the look on her face would have given her away. 

“You didn’t want to see us again,” Danny shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor. 

Charlotte felt the tears spill from her eyes. “I…I just…” Charlotte could barely muster a coherent sentence past the lump in her throat. 

Danny rested a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I couldn’t tell them, not when I knew that I’d be getting their hopes up for nothing.”

Charlotte let a choked sob come out, realizing that there was no longer any reason to fight it. Everything she wanted to say was already said. Danny had taken the words right out of her mouth. “I’m…I’m so sorry Danny,” she whimpered.

Danny waited a few minutes for Charlotte to collect herself. After wiping her tears, she turned back to him, sniffling.

“Charlotte,” he started grimly.

She cut him off and looked over at him, knowing exactly what he was going to say. “You said you were all fine.”

“How could we be fine?” Danny asked, voice trembling. Charlotte was not aware how hard he was trying to stay composed. Danny raised himself from the couch and walked over to the windows. “All we could do was watch.”

Charlotte followed Danny with her eyes.

“When we got back, none of us knew what to do. It was like we never even met you.”

Charlotte stood from the couch, she watched Danny’s back as she spoke. “I can��t see them, Danny.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes welling with tears. 

Danny said nothing, but Charlotte knew exactly what he wanted to say. We missed you. You don’t know what it was like. We watched you die. How could you do this? Tell me why you can’t see them. All of these pieces of dialogue were lost in the space between them. Charlotte knew he was choking on every sentence–which is why he wasn’t saying anything. He was considering her feelings even now.

She was asking him to keep such a big secret–and he was willing to–but she could tell that it was eating him alive to do this to Sam. To Josh. To Jake.

Without thinking, Charlotte closed the gap between them and pulled Danny into a hug. “You’re right, I’m being cruel.”

Charlotte stayed still as Danny drank her in again, pressing his nose into her hair and taking her scent deeply into his lungs. His shoulders were shaking as he cried, and his tears splashed onto Charlotte’s hair. 

“I’ll see them,” Charlotte said. “I have to.”

Charlotte flopped down onto her bed, the air getting pushed from her lungs as she hit the mattress. After the night she’d had, there was nothing she wanted more than to sleep. And yet…all she could think about was the night’s events. Charlotte turned Danny’s replies over and over again in her mind, wondering just how much he was keeping from her. He’d been secretive with what he shared, and Charlotte could tell in the way his eyes shifted from hers as they said goodbye to one another. 

Charlotte hugged Danny tightly as they said their farewells.  They decided that it was best that he leave first as they both wiped their teary eyes. 

“I’ll let them know,” Danny said.

The gravity of those words didn’t hit her in that moment, and Charlotte assumed it was just her being overwhelmed. Emotions were running high for several other reasons, she could forgive herself for not being completely with it just this once. 

“I’ll be in touch, okay?” Danny asked, and Charlotte realized that she hadn’t said anything in response.

Charlotte remembered nodding, because her voice was still hoarse from all of the crying she’d done for the last hour and a half. Charlotte then watched as he turned the knob of the office door and left. She stood in the office for a little longer, waiting for Julio to come out from wherever he was hiding. In a few moments, he came through the door, just like she knew he would. 

“I saw him leave, How did it go?” He said in that same no-bullshit tone. 

Charlotte shook her head. “As good as I thought it would.”

Julio stepped in front of her, a grim look already on his face. “That bad?”

Charlotte didn’t look at him, instead, she turned towards the door. “I agreed to meet with them, all of them.”

Julio said nothing, but Charlotte could tell that his lack of conversation was not due to lack of opinion. Perhaps he thought it best to keep his thoughts to himself? If that were the case, she wanted to smother him in gratitude.

“Let’s go home,” he said finally. 

The rest of the drive home came quickly, and now Charlotte spent the last few hours of the night wondering just what she had gotten herself into. 

Charlotte felt a pressure in her chest, a longing. She wanted to see Sam’s smile again, be wrapped in Josh’s arms. She wanted to sit with Danny and swap stories about nothing in particular. She wanted…

She wanted Jake. 

Charlotte felt the tears spilling out of her eyes as five years of sorrow finally broke through the wall she’d built up around it. That part of her life that she only ever revisited in her sleep came rushing forward and drowned her in the feelings she’d been pushing down and away. There was fear, the fear that what he’d felt all those years ago was gone. Perhaps she really was just the girl in the woods to him. There would be tangible evidence that Jake had grown apart from her emotionally too as the distance between them grew.

But there was also joy. Everything good that could happen raced in her mind next. He would catch sight of her first, and his eyes would sparkle with recognition. He’d recognize her immediately, and he wouldn’t hesitate pulling her closer. Her eyes would fall onto his smile–his lips–as they parted to convey just how exhilarated he was to see her again.

Charlotte took a deep breath. She needed to calm down–until Danny reached out to the others, she had to focus on her life. She had a job–she had friends–she had mind-occupying things at her disposal.

Reaching over to her nightstand, Charlotte turned on the television on the far side of her bedroom. She got up from her bed and went over to the chaise in front of the screen. She perused the channels until she settled on the news. She watched graphics of a wildfire overtaking a dark forest, illuminating the rest of the surrounding area with a warm glow. 

Charlotte listened as the reporter went on about it for a moment, but something caught her attention at the bottom of the screen–where text was scrolling fast. 

GOVERNMENT LEADERS NEGOTIATE CONTROVERSIAL TREATY AGREEMENT WITH—

Charlotte heard a knock at her bedroom door and looked over.

“Come in,” she said loudly over the TV. 

Julio opened the door but didn’t crest the threshold. “I just got word from my contact. He’s picked a time.”

For a moment, Charlotte just looked at Julio–pure shock registered on her face. Danny had already reached out to them?

“They requested we meet them here in the city one day from now,” Julio said. “And it might be a short visit–they’ve requested a meeting before daybreak.”

Charlotte nodded, taking in the news. 

In twenty-four hours, she would be seeing them again.

[clock-06]

Finally did some writing for my Gabe and Nathalie dynamic

These little fuckers make me so sick.

Yes it’s finals week, the cycle continues from midterms, as this writing is based off my post from then

Angst-adjacent one shot, semi-domestic, Gabriel/Nathalie/Emilie, ~1k words

TW implied child abuse and blood

It was a calm moonless night in Paris, and on this rare occasion, in the Agreste Manor too. Nathalie Sancoeur was winding down to sleep, and had triple checked the locks to her ‘private’ dwelling within the estate before letting herself be unarmed. Make no mistake, the bowie knife was unsheathed on her bedside table, and the crossbow was resting upon the armchair, a bolt ready to fire in its flight groove; by no means was Nathalie going to let herself be unprepared.

If there were any positives to living in the mansion, at the very least her room was in the west wing, opposite that of Gabriel’s, which meant he would have to be doing something atrocious for her to be kept awake by his manic experimentation. A few weeks ago she’d pondered on whether or not she should have followed Gorilla’s footsteps and pursued housing elsewhere, but the high quality free room and board was not something she could turn away now. Not with the state Gabriel was in.

She finished the chapter of her book, placed it back into her shelves, and headed off to her bathroom. She brushed her teeth before removing her glasses to wash her face, the hair tucked behind her ears falling as she leaned into the sink’s bowl. Splashing herself with water, she rose to grab a hand towel, drying her features before meeting her own eyes in the mirror. With her crimson now hanging as bangs in her face, it almost looked like how she had before Em fell ill, when her hair had been long enough to french braid; which Emilie had insisted on doing any time she came across Nathalie with her hair down. They would gossip about the fashion world or throw jabs at Gabriel’s recent drafts, and every now and then Em would call her gorgeous when the job was done. The way her heart fluttered now was a dull echo of back then, but it still brought her the warmth she needed to rest peacefully, at least for a few hours.

Nathalie was woken with a start, as she heard the handle to her door rattling. She leapt from the bed, reaching for the knife before her eyes adjusted and she remembered the locks. There were scratches and whimpering that reminded her of a wounded animal coming from the other side of the door, low enough down that it caused her panic to spike even higher. With her heart pounding in her ears, she opened it, and took a sigh of relief when she saw silver hair instead of golden blonde. She moved to swing it closed, horrified by the wet sound of Gabriel’s hand catching between the door and its frame.

It wasn’t for his sake by any means, and she rushed to grab the crossbow as he lifted himself to stand and enter the room. He reached for the light switch, managing to turn on the lamp directly behind Nathalie, and she caught his attention as his eyes met hers. He’d left a trail of sticky red over the switch and wall, and his form was in general disarray. He was clutching his right hand within his left, both covered and dripping with what she could only hope was his. He was covered in sweat, his hair slicked down with it, his clothes an uncomfortably visible damp. But she wouldn’t let that fool her, he was still capable of atrocities, and he would set a trap such as this.

“Gabriel if that blood isn’t yours I swear-” She leveled the ranged weapon now, crosshair aimed between the pathetic man’s sunken eyes.

He lifted his non-injured hand in a gesture of surrender, and through shaking breath admitted, “It’s all my own, Nathalie.”

“Good,” She took a second to think, scanning him over once more, “now leave.”

Gabriel was still the target in her sight, and he knew this all too well, but still refused her command. “I need your help,” hesitation washed over him, abandoning his pride before adding; “Please.”

Nathalie reactively lowered the crossbow. He was never polite to her, but especially recently. Then it hit her; he was being genuine. Gabriel Agreste was actually asking for help, her help, and was willingly relinquishing his power. This was a man she despised at the core of her being, sure, but he was still her employer, her landlord, her best friend’s husband, and above all, the only person other than herself truly dedicated to bringing back Emilie. With a huff she returned the crossbow to its designated area.

“Fine, come h-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before he passed out on her carpet, a loud thud reverberating down the hall. Nathalie approached him with caution, and turned him over as she grabbed the first aid kit from under her bed. The injury was deep, especially where the canines had hit him, and needed to be cleaned before she could properly dress it. Gabriel was still unconscious, but flinched at the sting of the alcohol, before mumbling under his breath as she applied antiseptic cream and bandages. Nathalie knew he’d have to be incredibly lucky to not get an infection, and the wound would at the very least leave a visible scar.

She carried him onto the vacant side of her bed, leaving him without a blanket due to what she could clearly tell was a raging fever, and left a glass of tap water from the sink on the table near him, resigning herself to the armchair just in case he were to try something.

The room stunk with the twang of metal, and the person she trusted least in the world was locked in there with her, but for some reason, Nathalie felt more at peace than she had in months.