#but my bones still could in time. in time though

[gay-dorito-dust]

I see him in the back of my mind, all the time.

This fic came to me in a dream, woke up crying.

You couldn’t help but feel abandoned, left behind to deal with the onslaught of emotions all by yourself as your eyes remained firmly on where Viktor once was before the arcane consumed him whole.

The war was over but the hollow feeling within your chest only grew stronger when seeing loved ones reunite in fits of hysterical tears and bone crushing embraces, the lump in your throat got worse as the ache in your heart had something missing, someone missing that made it beat faster than normal. There was nothing Viktor left behind of his existence besides from his cane that you kept tightly clutched within your hand, mimicking the way he’d love tap the ground with it, as though you were trying to prove to no one in particular who cared that he still exists.

Silent tears seemed to flow endlessly down your cheeks as you wandered through the hallways of the Academy, and yet you felt numb, cold like you were already long dead and didn’t know it just yet as even your fingers felt cold to the touch, but you didn’t know whether that was from the biting cold wind or something else entirely. You didn’t care either as your reason for caring and for loving every aspect of life was taken away from you, taking your beating heart with him as he did and you didn’t know whether to hate him or love him even harder for giving you the best moments of your life, memories that seemed to all play out before you as you entered the now empty laboratory.

You could still hear the laughter and the scolding echo as though the walls with complex equations scrawled upon them had harboured the essence of the people who once worked diligently to the point of physical exhaustion. Your throat clenched again you delved deeper into the lab with one place in mind like you were being pulled towards it by an unseen force; Viktor’s workbench that had now upon closer inspection had a fine layer of dust settling over it, something he would’ve never let happen despite the tendency to leave his things scattered everywhere he pleased but still become cutely annoyed when he couldn’t find them.

However there seemed to be one thing that the dust refused to touch, a broach. Your brows furrowed as you looked at it confused, what was a broach doing in a place like this? It looked like it was made a while back but yet had a polish to it that made it seemed like it was made only recently. You knew Viktor didn’t wear broaches so seeing such an item on his workbench specifically was leaving you more questions then answers, questions that were soon answered when you noticed a small note underneath it, scrawled with Viktor’s usual chicken scratch writing;

‘For my dearest muse, for I will always be with you, always - Viktor.’

You clutched the cane tighter now as the pain within your chest almost made you collapse on the floor. This broach was for you. Viktor made it for you and never had the chance to give it to you, or perhaps he was waiting for the right moment to do so, but fate decided to be cruel and change the trajectory of your life for the worst; the common con when you happened to fall in love with a scientist determined to make a change. You sighed unevenly as you reach for the broach, your fingers closing over the cold metal of it while gingerly lifting it off the workbench, holding it up to your face so that you could take in the details of Viktor’s most beautiful creation.

The broach had a decent weight to it, not too light where you could easily crush it within your hand, but not too hard where it was proven difficult in your hand for prolonged periods of time. It was beautifully done as on the front of the broach was a an intricate design of a mechanical Blue Jay bird. You ran your thumb across the bird to feel the engravings that made it beneath your finger tips. The bird began to glow a vibrant blue, making you jolt a little, and the broach opened up to show it’s insides to you as a soft melody began to play from some hidden component within the broach.

The moment the first notes of the soft melody hits your ears the tears that had stilled in you moment of curiosity began to fall once more, this was the song that you had told Viktor once upon a time ago was your favourite, and so for him to make you this broach with your favourite bird on the front and your beloved song on the inside, you’ve never felt more loved by a man such as him. Yet you couldn’t run to him and kiss him senseless, not anymore, which made the broach itself a reminder that even if he was long gone you were the last thing on his mind.

‘Oh Viktor.’ Your voice came out weak as a sob broke from your lips as memories resurfaced as the melody continued its tune just for you.

…

‘Viktor!’ You burst in the lab, making him jolt as he looked over at you with what he wanted to be conveyed as annoyance but came across as a cute pout in your eyes.

‘My dear how often must I tell you not to burst in here so abruptly and without warning, what if something went wrong and you had gotten hurt.’ Viktor scolds as you merely shrug and moved over to his side to look over his shoulder, trying to see what he was working on, only for him to move it slightly away from your line of sight.

‘We’re both alive aren’t we?’ You said sarcastically and Viktor sighs as a small smile graced his lips as his amber eyes looked back at you with the warmth you always use to being greeted with. ‘You truly fear nothing my love but the next time you pull sometime like that you’re banned from entering the lab for the rest of the week.’ He says warningly as he points his wielding tool at you to emphasise his point.

You leaned over to kiss his forehead. ‘Duly noted my love but can I see what you’re working on? Or is it a secret for me to find later?’ You then ask as you once again tried to see what he was making, and once again Viktor move it away from your curious eyes, making you pout once more as you looked at him pleadingly.

Viktor sighs, your curiosity was never ending and while he would indulge you on his creations, he couldn’t do so for this one. This broach was his most ambitious project thus far and it was a project he has dedicated to you a long time ago the moment you both sat at the docks, hearing a harmonious melody within the wind as you admitted that it was your favourite.

It was that moment where Viktor decided to make something that you could keep on your being forever and thus project blue jay broach was underway. He was halfway done with it, all he had to do was finished wielding some components on the inside that would play the melody the moment the broach was opened, then he would move onto engraving the blue jay on the front as a final touch to a months long work in progress. ‘Practice your patience and you shall find out what it is soon enough my muse.’ He says softly as he kisses the back of your hand.

‘Alright keeps your secrets, I’ll find out sooner or later.’ You said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Viktor raised a playful brow. ‘Is that a threat or a promise my muse?’ He asks.

You shrugged your shoulders. ‘Why not both.’ You said and Viktor laughs which makes you smile in response, feeling your chest warm as you looked at him, vowing to treasure this beautiful man for the rest of your life.

…

‘I know it’s not much but I wanted to make you something…I know it’s not the best but-‘

‘I love it my muse.’ Viktor starts as he takes the gift off of your hand, cradling it within his own as he looked over the amateur wielding and more so at the love and effort you’ve put into making this just for him.

You looked between him and the bird that you’ve made for him on a whim one day, wanting to repay him for loving you as he did in a way he’d recognise, even if you weren’t familiar with it you’d give it a try just to see him smile that gorgeous smile of his that made his amber eyes seem to brighten.

‘Really? You mean that?’ You asked and Viktor brushed his hand against your arm softly, stopping to hold your hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

‘Unequivocally my love. It possess a uniqueness that is undoubtedly yours and yours alone.’ He replies while pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

‘That’s a poetic way of saying that it’s made by an amateur who can barely wield shit without almost hurting themselves.’ You muttered under your breath as you rested your head against his shoulder. Viktor chuckles as he puts aside the mechanical bird on his workbench in order to hold you against him as he rests his head atop of yours.

‘If it’s any consolation it’s a well made creation for an amateur wielder.’ He says, smiling to himself when he hears you muffled groan. He wishes to stay like this forever if he could, just have you in his arms for all of eternity until that eternity fades to nothing, and it was just you two locked in the moment in the blanket of never ending darkness.

‘I hate you.’ You say.

‘I love you too my muse.’ Viktor replies as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

…

‘Viktor?’ You asked.

‘Yes my love?’ He replies, looking at you.

‘Do you think we’re together in every universe?’ You then looked at him, finding him more beautiful than any star that hung in the sky before you.

Viktor makes a face full of thought before letting his hand find yours, squeezing it as he presses a kiss to the back of it. ‘Of course my love, for what would I be without you to be my muse, my confidant and my anchor.’ His face then becomes one of seriousness as he leans so that his forehead touches yours. ‘Do you believe that we’re together in every universe?’

‘Without a doubt.’ You answered back, kissing his lips. ‘I don’t think I could live in a reality where you don’t exist my beautiful Viktor.’ You add as you started deeply into his amber eyes, watching them soften in relief as Viktor reciprocated your kiss with one of his own.

‘What a coincidence I was thinking the exact same thing my muse.’ Viktor whispers softly to you as he kisses you once more. You held the back of his head to keep him close as the stars watched you both display your love for one another in the most innocent way possible.

…

Mel wondered down the hallway but as she was about to pass the lab, she heard the soft melody coming from it and stopped to peek through the open doorway. Sat fast asleep on Viktor’s chair, body splayed uncomfortably across his dust covered workbench, was you and she couldn’t help but smile sympathetically for you, after all you had just lost the love of your life before your very eyes and with no plausible way of getting him back.

What was making the melody Mel did find as her eyes landed on the open broach within your hand, Viktor’s final gift to you as it hummed the melody for the fifth time. It was a beautiful song Mel thought to herself as she moved next to you, resting her hand over your shoulder as she heard you softly mutter in your sleep. ‘I’m sorry Viktor. I love you.’

‘I know he loves you too.’ Mel replied as she reached over and closed the broach in your hand, seeing the mechanical engraving on the cover as she did so before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wanting nothing more then let you sleep and be with Viktor in the land of dreams as she moved to walk back out the door. Mel looks back at you once more and in a moment of nostalgia overcame her she saw Viktor sleeping in that very chair instead of you. He was clutching his cane the same way you did and in that moment it looked as though your hands were touching; together intertwined in the smallest of things.

Viktor would always be with you, always.

[viaviavie]

in which you bargain with jade in an attempt to stall him and his brother during book 3 while leona destroys azul's contracts. it ends up being a long-term deal. jade leech x reader warnings: blood, biting, slightly suggestive

For all the running and jogging that the Savanclaw members had you do for staying in their dorm, it wouldn't do much to help you escape the grasp of the Leech twins. A game of tag that lasts until sunset would ruin your chances of getting back a dorm that you don't even own. You blame Ace, Deuce, and Grim for all the misfortune that had befallen upon your head. It wasn't that you were a pushover either to give in into helping them, but Crowley would never let you hear the end of it if Grim never passes through this college.

You were already out of breath, barely clinging onto a rock as you floated about while your companions continued to evade the energetic Floyd. You could already see Grim losing stamina, having worked himself to the bone under Azul's heel. Deuce and Ace would run out of energy to keep up as well, and you know very well that Jack can't handle both twins on his own.

As if an opportunity presented itself to you, a long shadow had been summoned behind you. Two large webbed hands were outstretched, ready to grab and restrain you. With a gulp, you whipped your entire body back and held your hands out with warning.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! Hold it!"

Jade paused, his expression unchanging. His flexed biceps remained afloat, ready to lunge at the most opportune moment. However, what's the fun in catching prey that doesn't stand a chance? The mer-eel hummed, lips itching to curl into a smirk. "Oh? The Prefect demands a time out." His brother hears him, slowing down his moments to stare at the two. Had it been anyone else requesting this time-out, Floyd would've ignored it all. However, this is little Shrimpy we're talking about.

And the thing about Shrimpy, is that Shrimpy always makes it fun.

You puff up your cheeks, determination flashing across your features as you leaned up towards Jade. "I'll offer you a deal if you stop chasing us down right now!" Jade smiles, almost amused by your display of defiance. You look like a little puffer fish with little fins, especially with that pout of yours. Nonetheless, for all your charms, it does nothing to keep the ell from shaking his head. "I cannot do that, prefect. My task is to ensure that you and your friends are subdued. Letting you go would simply get me in big trouble."

Your lower lip trembles at his cool response. Raising a finger, you take a quick side-glance at your exhausted companions. The photo is still in Deuce's fist, much to your relief. "How about a minute headstart? Give us a minute to get away and then you can resume. I'm sure you can catch up." Jade's smile does not fade at your nervous stammers. A part of him wishes that you had bargained for more, but not a single one of your pleas would make a difference.

"Your capture is inevitable, Prefect. What would you be proposing anyways?" Now that you think of it, you didn't exactly think this through. Though your expression was a perfect poker face, you could see Ace's expression pale as Floyd's smile grew bigger and bigger. Jade's expression always remained the same, but you knew very well than to trust his humble exterior. "Time's ticking. Azul can wait, but I know you cannot."

He was no different than a bloodhungry shark, really.

Biting onto your inner cheek, you continued to stare at Jade in an attempt to find a bargain worth his time. In the very few encounters you have had with him, however, you've barely had a clue on what he could possibly want. Riddle had mentioned that this twin ran a weird club that you cannot recall. You imagine that Jade must not have many companions, considering his reputation as one of Azul's grunts, not to mention his vice-housewarden as well.

"Shrimpy, you better hurry up before I squeeze ya!"

"And you know better than to think Floyd is as patient as I."

And then there's Floyd, extremely unpredictable. It was definitely the right choice to bargain with Jade, yet at the same time, you would be better off sacrificing yourself to be squeezed by Floyd than to offer something Jade would want. You barely know him, after all.

Jade hummed, flexing his arms as he allowed himself to float, casting a large shadow over you. You could see his tail twitch, ready to push and wrap itself around you; a punishment for trying to bargain with a Leech.

"Time's up—"

"I'll give you the experience of dating a human!"

"Oh?"

"WHAT!?" Ace screeched, much to Floyd's amused expression. "Prefect, have you gone insane?!"

Even for just a split second, you swore that you saw his eyes flicker with surprise. Jade recovers quickly, staring blankly at you as if it were something so casual. His menacing stance dissipates as he swam towards you, circling your figure as you both floated by the sand. Putting up that collected smile, Jade's fangs reflected the sunlight seeping in from the waters. "Indulge me, what are the benefits of such?"

"He's considering it?!" Ace yelled even louder, suddenly fearful for your life. Deuce is praying now, and Jack could only sigh as he began to plan a way to snatch you from Jade's grasps.

Clearing your throat, you pointed an accusing finger at him. "For starters, you are one of the most frightening students in this school. What makes you think you'll get a human to give you a chance once you graduate?" Jade raises a brow, but he doesn't even get the chance to react once you leap forward and place a firm hand on his cheek, pulling back his lip to reveal his sharp fangs.

"You got big sharp teeth, and you look like you're about to eat someone for breakfast!" Floyd anticipates a reaction from Jade. No one, especially a human, had the gall to touch him like that. Just then, you surprise both the twins as you open up your own mouth, flashing your teeth as if it were the most casual thing in the world. The unhinged twin let out a howl of laughter, clutching at his stomach as he observes the way a light pink blush overtakes Jade's stunned expression. "Wow, Shrimpy's bold!" Floyd cackled loudly to himself.

"Humans are used to this, and are most certainly not afraid of the likelihood of being eaten by their significant other. You probably don't have humans in your diet, but those teeth of yours don't scare me!"

Jade cannot bring himself to say another word once you shut your mouth. You pouted, crossing your arms. By this point, you're simply yapping desperately in hopes to stall time for your companions who needed to catch their breaths. You let out a sigh, shaking your head to yourself at the thought of being squeezed for such a poor bargain. "I know barely anything about merfolk. I may come from another world, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to learn. You get the once-in-a-lifetime experience of getting to toy with someone who knows absolutely nothing about your mannerisms and habits. You get a completely fresh start to pursue romance!"

You hear an even louder sigh in the background, presumably Jack's. Maybe you hear Deuce weeping as well. "It's been nice knowing you, Prefect..."

None of their worries deter you as you boldly swam towards Jade who seems to have recovered from his shock. His eyes widened as you are barely inches away from his chest, looking up at him despite his intimidating form. "And I am willing to do anything you want! I'll eat whatever you make, go wherever you want to go, join you in your hobbies— you'll get the complete boyfriend treatment package!" Your eyes are squeezed shut now, almost anticipating the sensation of crushed ribs in a matter of seconds now.

"We can just skip to the dating part too! Sure, we can get to know each other as time passes—"

"I accept."

"And I— What?" Your eyes open just as Jade cups his own cheek, looking down on you with what looked like endearment. You cannot even tell if he's amused by the idea of getting a new toy, or is simply infatuated with the idea of being in a relationship. Or both. Your jaw goes slack as Jade chuckles to himself, moreover amused by the situation as a whole.

Suddenly, Jade appears intimidating again once he casts that long shadow on you once more. "I accept your bargain, Prefect." He cooed, that content smile on his face. You could only return a weak smile of your own, slowly realizing the implications of the bargain he just agreed to. You don't even notice the long tail that has been wrapping itself around you gently, not until you feel that fin against your thigh.

"Of course, you and I will have to discuss scheduling in further detail. I suppose you can make time for me once my shifts at the Mostro Lounge are finished."

Squeeze. A light gasp leaves your lips as you felt his body constrict around you, but not enough to the point of suffocation. No, Jade is firm, but not clumsy at all. A webbed finger tilts your chin upwards, and you are hypnotized by that one glowing eye burying itself into your gaze. "Or perhaps, I can just come to you instead." You cannot tell whether your heart is beating from fear or excitement as Jade flashes toothy grin, the same one he gives to his prey.

"I am very excited." Slowly, you learn how to breathe properly again as Jade's long body loosens around your form. Jade's grin relaxes into a smile, a brighter one. "I suppose none of it will matter when Azul takes your humble abode. Maybe I should ask for a bonus for providing my assistance in the matter." Floating once more, you give him a wobbly smile as you nod in agreement. Just as you were ready to swim away, his webbed hand grasped your forearm to keep you from leaving.

"To make sure you aren't pulling my fin," His face is so close to yours own. He maintains that polite smile that seems to betray his intent. "May I ask you to seal the deal with a kiss, Prefect? All contracts surely must have some formality."

You let out a shuddered breath, feeling his biceps flex around your shoulders. Forcing yourself to meet his gaze, you nodded shyly. "Okay."

Kissing Jade Leech was not on today's bingo card, but it might as well be done to let Grim catch a few more breaths. Your hand slides up to cup his smooth jaw, covered in slime and viscera. Moving closer now, you suck in a deep breath before finally pressing your lips against his. It is gentle, so much unlike the cruel sea. You feel the vibration of his lips as he hums, reciprocating the act by mimicking your hand placement and pushing his own lips towards you.

For a moment, you would have believed that Jade may be a gentle lover. Sucking in a quick breath in the middle of the kiss, you gasped as you felt a tongue swipe over your bottom lip, attempting to pry your mouth open even more for him to explore. You should have expected Jade to be this bold. Slowly prying your jaws apart further, your efforts were discarded just as you feel sharp teeth dig down onto your lip.

"Mmph!" It was your first instinct to pull away, but he does not let you. His webbed hand cradled the back of your head, keeping you there as he lapped at the blood seeping from the wound he created. It stings, then calms, then stings, then calms again as he made a mess of your reddened face. As his tongue swiped against one of the cuts, however, you couldn't stop yourself from biting down out of reflex.

Jade gasped into the kiss, recoiling away with surprise. Snapping your eyes open, both of you stare at each other's reddened lips, along with the red wisps dancing in the water. You can't believe you just bit Jade Leech, and this time, you prepare yourself for a deadly squeeze that never comes. Instead, you see that polite smile of his again, but that look in his eyes screamed absolute infatuation. You gulped, feeling your heart pound even faster as you consider diving in for another kiss, as crazy as it sounded.

Nonetheless, all good ideas must come to a pause. Jade's chuckles reached your ears as he backs away, shifting his body slightly to show you how far away your companions are now. It seems that you didn't hear them beckoning you to swim away with them.

"Your minute has already started, Prefect. Best to start swimming, no? Just because we are an item now, doesn't meant I will be going easy on you." Whipping your head towards Jade, you were about to reprimand him for such words until you recall your bargain. Cheeks burning pink once more, you couldn't bring yourself to keep staring at his calm smile anymore. Turning your back on him, you begin to swim as fast as you could, tuning out Floyd's cackles behind you. You never really get to see Jade's wide smile as his fingers brush across the little wounds on his lip.

"Don't swim too far, Shrimpy! Or shall I call you Shrimpy-in-law now?!"

[axeeglitter]

Reformating Love

Ethan stared at the unwashed cereal bowl on the counter, the sticky remnants of milk and granola solidifying into an unappetizing paste. The apartment reeked faintly of saltwater and old gym clothes, a byproduct of living with Scott.

Scott, his surfer roommate, seemed to revel in making Ethan’s life a mix of frustration and quiet misery. The man had an effortless charm. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a sun-kissed tan that made him look like a walking advertisement for beach life. His messy, curly long blond hair, perpetual smirk, and casual demeanor made him maddeningly attractive and completely insufferable.

As if on cue, Scott sauntered out of his bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung boxer briefs. His toned body, slightly hairy in all the right places, gleamed faintly as if he had just stepped off his surfboard. He stretched his long arms over his head, revealing the thick patch of hair under his armpits, and yawned loudly.

“Morning, sunshine!” Scott said with a grin, his voice dripping with playful condescension.

Ethan gritted his teeth. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

Scott shrugged, completely unbothered. “Time doesn’t matter when you’ve mastered the art of the chill, my man.” He opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice and drinking straight from it.

“Can you at least use a glass?” Ethan asked, already knowing the answer.

Scott turned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What’s the matter? Afraid of catching my cooties?” He wiggled his eyebrows before smirking and adding, “Or do you just want my lips on your lips, huh?”

Ethan flushed, his jaw tightening. “You’re impossible.”

Scott grinned wider and leaned against the counter, his muscular arms casually crossed. “Aw, come on, E. I’m just messing with you. You know I think you’re great. I mean, if I swung that way…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Ethan turned away, grabbing his laptop and settling onto the couch.

He was used to Scott’s teasing by now, but it still stung. The comments weren’t overtly homophobic; they were Scott’s way of pushing buttons, of asserting dominance in their shared space.

It wasn’t just the comments, though. It was the way Scott left his belongings everywhere, his dirty clothes strewn across the floor like trophies from his latest conquest. It was the way he played his music too loud, the bass vibrating through the walls at all hours. It was the way he walked around the apartment half-naked, completely comfortable in his skin, while Ethan tried to focus on anything other than the sharp curve of his hip bones or the way his legs seemed to go on forever.

Ethan had tried confronting him once, but Scott had just laughed it off, ruffling Ethan’s hair like he was a kid. “Relax, dude. Life’s too short to stress over this stuff.”

But for Ethan, it wasn’t just "stuff." It was the constant reminder that he was the one who cared too much, the one who had to clean up, the one who tiptoed around Scott’s oversized personality.

That night, as Scott sprawled on the couch in his underwear, flipping through channels like he owned the place, Ethan found himself staring at his laptop, typing a phrase he never thought he’d search for: How to make someone change their behavior.

The results were a mixed bag of self-help articles, manipulative tricks, and obscure forums. But one thread caught his eye: Reprogramming personalities: Is it possible?

Ethan clicked, his curiosity piqued despite himself. The thread was filled with wild claims about new technologies that could alter someone’s behavior at a fundamental level. Some users spoke of psychological conditioning, others about experimental devices that could rewire a person’s mind entirely.

One comment stood out:

"Tired of dealing with someone who just won’t change? The solution is simpler than you think. Reprogramming kits are real, and they work. DM me for more information."

Ethan hesitated. It had to be a joke, right? Some elaborate scam? Still, the idea burrowed into his brain, refusing to let go. What if there was a way to make Scott understand, to force him to see how much of a burden he was?

Without fully understanding why, Ethan clicked on the user’s profile and sent a message: Tell me more. But after waiting for almost half an hour, no answers appeared on his screen. “Yo E., What you doing bro?” Asked Scott as he was getting up from the couch. Out of reflex and fear, Ethan closed the window, his heart racing. Ethan decided that he was just tired and needed some time away from everything and went to bed, his heart still racing from stress.

The next morning, Ethan received a notification on his phone: Your package is out for delivery.

“What package?” he muttered to himself.

When he received the package later that afternoon, Ethan didn’t understand what this was. “Hey Scott, have you purchased something?” He asked still on the porch with the package in his hands. No answer from Scott so he went back inside and opened the box on the kitchen table. It was a slick USB drive with only a handwritten note inside: “Reformation kit”. Ethan held the UBS in his hand, a chill ran down his spine.

It seemed absurd, like some kind of prank. Ethan turned the USB over in his hands, its glossy black surface unmarked by logos or branding. The note offered no further explanation. He almost tossed it in the trash, but something stopped him. Ethan walked down to the couch where Scott was laying there in his underwear and exposing his muscled and slightly hairy physique, as always. “Hey Scott, have you purchased a Reformation kit?” Scott looked up at Ethan and laugh answering “Yea sure E. I have purchased this nerdy shit to better perform on the board. You really aren’t the smartest of the nerds, are you?” Ethan felt rage rise in him as he heard Scott taunting one more time. “You are a jerk; you know that right?” He answered while throwing the USB in his direction, not seeing that Scott turned his head back on his phone, exposing his naked neck as his still wet hair parted around it. Ethan didn’t wait for an answer as he walked in his room to get ready for his night shift at the movie theater. unbeknown to him, the USB stopped mid air before touching the ground. Then all of a sudden, the USB started to light a faint blue hue and hum as it floated just behind Scott’s exposed neck. Then, Scott felt a tingle at its base, not knowing that a small rectangle USB port just appeared out of nowhere in his flesh, the skin around it smooth and metallic like a port carved directly into his spine. As he was about to scratch the itch, the UBS plugged itself inside Scott’s neck.

There was a soft click.

Scott froze, his entire body stiffening as if a switch had been flipped.

“What the hell…” Scott started, but his words were cut off by a strangled cry. His head snapped back; his mouth open in a silent scream as his entire body began to convulse.

Scott’s fingers clawed at the couch cushions, his muscles spasming uncontrollably. His eyes were wide with terror, and tears streamed down his face as his voice returned in gasping, ragged muffled screams.

But there was no way to stop it. The USB drive glowed faintly, and Scott’s body arched violently, his back lifting off the couch.

Inside Scott’s mind, the sensation was beyond anything he could have imagined. It was as if every fiber of his being was being pulled apart, unraveling into threads of light and sound. His memories flashed before his eyes in rapid, chaotic bursts. His childhood, his first surfboard, his friends, his favorite songs.

But then, those memories started to fade.

“Ethan!” he tried to scream, his voice cracking with panic. “Help me! something’s wrong! I’m... I’m disappearing! I don’t feel goo…”

Scott’s face contorted with pain, his words becoming garbled. The light around the USB grew brighter, and a faint hum filled the room, like the whirring of a hard drive.

Scott’s mind was unraveling, his sense of self slipping away. His thoughts fragmented, disintegrating into a flood of static.

The pain was unbearable. It wasn’t just physical; it was the loss of everything that made him him. His memories, his emotions, his very essence were being stripped away, digitized and compressed into raw data. Scott could feel his senses being cut one by one. It started with the lost connection to his feet, then it climbed up his legs and now he could only feel his face.

And then, there was nothing.

Scott’s body went limp, the glow from the USB fading as the reprogramming completed. Ethan left for his shift just after the USB stopped shining and fell back on the ground, the hole in the neck disappearing once the connection was lost. Scott stood there, his eyes closed and his head resting on the couch. “I’m leaving Scott. If you have time, try to clean the apartment please. I’m exhausted and I just want to come back to a tidy house for once. See you!” Scott didn’t answer, but as Ethan closed the door, his eyes opened, a soft hue shining blue hue brighten his eyes before disappearing to his natural blue color. Scott looked around the house and then at his body, he touched himself as he took everything in. A smile appeared on his serene face, typical Scott’s signature cocky smile as he looked at his reflection in his smartphone, making his cock chub up a bit. Then out of nowhere, he jumped up from the couch and started to walk to the kitchen, ready to do some cleaning.

When Ethan came back home later that night, Scott was sitting on the couch in his underwear, as always, but Ethan realizes the house smelt fresh. He turned around to see the house clean and tidy, even the dried granola balls in the full kitchen sink were washed and put away. Ethan walked to Scott with a smile on his face and stress released from his shoulders. “Thanks bro!” started Ethan not waiting for any answers from Scott. But as he turned around, he felt Scott’s calloused manly hand grabbing his forearm. Ethan turned around not understanding what Scott wanted only to be met with Scott’s smile. “Yo E., I realize that you did a lot to keep this house as clean as possible and I didn’t help you at all those years. I also realize that life is short and I’m done not being me to my fullest. Now I know I’m not gay, but I kind of have some… feelings for you. You think we could… be something? Like, a relationship…. Maybe?” Ethan stood there; his mouth opened in surprise as he tried to take in everything that he just heard. He tilted his head on his forearm to see Scott still grabbing him for dear life and moving his thumb back and forth on his sensitive skin. He tilted his head back up to see Scott’s smiley face and out of pure pulsion, he thought fuck it, and threw himself in Scott naked and muscled arm to kiss him.

Over the next few days, Ethan explored the limits of their new relationship. So much had change and Ethan couldn’t believe how all of that was possible in only a couple of days. Scott was more attentive, less cocky. He no longer teased Ethan or strutted around the apartment like he owned the place. Instead, he was now helping with chores, cooking dinner, and even suggesting they watch movies together.

It was everything Ethan had hoped for.

As the days turned into weeks, their relationship deepened. They spent hours cuddling on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms as Ethan introduced Scott to new shows of adventures and fantasy. Scott’s touch was gentle, his affection genuine. He laughed at Ethan’s jokes and listened to him talk about his day with an intensity that made Ethan feel seen for the first time in years.

They shared baths; Scott’s strong arms wrapped around Ethan as they soaked in the warm water. They fell asleep in the same bed, their bodies entwined, the sound of Scott’s steady breathing lulling Ethan into a peaceful sleep.

Ethan told himself that this was what he had always wanted. Scott was happy, and so was he.

One evening, as they lay on the couch about to start The Witcher, Scott turned to Ethan with a contented smile.

“This show looks really good,” he said, his voice warm. “Thanks for introducing me to it.”

Ethan smiled back, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from Scott’s face.

“I love you,” he said softly.

Scott’s expression faltered for a brief moment, as if he were realizing something that was just out of reach. But then he smiled again and leaned in to kiss Ethan.

“I love you too,” he said.

Ethan didn’t notice the faint flicker of light in Scott’s eyes.

“I’ll grab some popcorn,” Ethan said, smiling as he untangled himself and headed to the kitchen.

Scott stretched, his body lean and relaxed, the dim light catching on the subtle golden tan of his surfer’s skin. As Ethan rummaged in the cupboards, Scott plunged his hand inside his right pocket where he toyed with the black sleek USB drive between his fingers.

“There’s no going back now.” he muttered to himself.

Without thinking, he got up and walked over to the TV. The back of his neck itched faintly. Scott stood in front of the TV and took the USB out of his pocket. He looked at it and a smile appear on his lips, without further thinking inserted the USB into one of the ports on the side of the television.

The screen flickered violently, the Netflix logo distorting into jagged lines and glitches that sent static crackling through the air. Scott stepped back, his heart pounding. The screen of the TV turned off and the room darkened. The television’s screen turned pitch black, save for faint flickers of light coalescing into a chaotic storm of colors.

And then, in the center of the screen, pixels started to merge together to form an entity. Something human like. Limbs started to appear and soon a face too. Scott stood in front of the as he watches with attention his reflection appears on the screen. Scott’s digitized soul had been plugged in.

Scott’s digitized soul emerged on the screen, flickering into existence in a form that resembled his body but was translucent and distorted. His limbs jerked as though he were a marionette struggling against invisible strings.

“What’s happening?!” he screamed from inside the TV, his voice echoing in the dark void. He looked down at his hands,they were translucent, pixelated fragments of light that didn’t feel solid.

His vision swam as he turned, desperate to find some kind of anchor. Instead, he saw his own body standing on the living room carpet, staring blankly at the TV.

“No,” he whispered, his voice cracking with panic. “That’s... that’s me. That’s my body!”

He pounded on the invisible barrier of the screen, his hands sparking with faint glitches. “Ethan! Help me! I’m in here! I’m…” “He won’t answer.” Scott heard his deep manly voice answering his please “In fact, no one will help you. You had it all, Scott. But you had to push the boundaries a bit too much and now look at you. Digitized, trapped, floating naked inside a TV screen.” “What are you talking about?!” screamed Scott from inside the TV. “Get me out of here! I’ve been stuck in darkness for weeks! Get me out!” “That won’t happen buddy… See, I have been stuck in there for years and there’s no way I’m going back in it. My ex, this fucking piece of shit, cursed and trapped me in there after finding out I planned to quit her. She did the mistake of keeping me trapped in "this" and make sure I always was close to her, but the second she met someone, she sends me to the first one without even freeing me from this cursed existence? I won’t do the same mistake. I'm here to stay, even if I have to play for the other team. And Ethan is kind of cute. Yes, this cycle ends now!” As he said that, Scott took the remote in his hand. The screen flickered, and Scott was cut off as the television’s remote was pointed at the screen, guided by the steady, precise hand of his own body.

“No! Who are you?!” Scott screamed, slamming his fists against the inside of the screen as his body selected The Witcher from the Netflix menu.

 Scott laughed as he pressed the button "My name was Cody, but you can call me Scott!" The first episode began to play, the familiar opening scene filling the screen. But something was wrong. The edges of the screen twisted, pulling Scott’s glowing form toward the center.

“No, no, no!” he begged, thrashing against the pull as the show’s digital world unfolded around him.

In the blink of an eye, Scott was now standing awkwardly on the cobblestone streets of a medieval town. The air around him shimmered, glitching like corrupted code. He could walk again. He could feel the air on his skin and the dirt under his feet. But as a fresh breeze blew in his hair, he realized he was still naked in the middle of a busy street. Scott started to walk to hide somewhere, to ask for help, but with every step he took, his body was starting to change. As he got out of the city, Scott stood and hide behind a bunch of rocks and trees, trying to understand what was happening as he felt the dirt under his soles and the rocks against his naked and exposed back. Suddenly, a deep pain invaded his body.

His bones shifted first, cracking and shrinking with sickening precision. He could see his sight getting closer to the ground, slightly shorter than his original frame. He cried out as his limbs reshaped themselves, his lean surfer’s build giving way to a softer, more compact form.

His skin prickled as the sun-kissed tan faded into a smoother, paler complexion, dotted with faint freckles that hadn’t been there before. Every hair on his body seemed to rearrange itself, the wiry, sun-bleached strands on his chest and legs softening and darkening.

Scott’s armpits burned as the sparse hair there thickened, giving off a muskier scent that matched the medieval street he was hidden in. He gagged as the scent surrounded him, a mix of sweat and leather that was foreign yet undeniably his.

“Stop it! Please!” he screamed, but his voice was already changing, cracking and shifting into a higher, more melodic tone.

His face was next. He felt his jawline soften, the angles rounding into the boyish charm of young visage. His cheekbones lifted, and his nose reshaped itself with an audible crunch. His hair fell off, revealing rich, chestnut waves that grew longer, brushing against his shoulders.

Scott’s pelvic region seized with a deep, invasive ache. He doubled over, clutching at himself as his body rewired the most intimate parts of his anatomy. His penis pulsed painfully, growing longer and thicker. Scott could feel all the nerves decupling and rearranging. He tilted his head, cupping his cock between his new hands only to scream at the feeling of something alien. Something warm and thick but totally frozen. He heard a Snap sound as Scott felt his balls attaching to the base of his penis and starting to reshape into an inhuman form. Scott screamed again as he felt a tugging sensation at the base of his cock and suddenly, he heard a snap as he felt his cock falling in his hands. He could still feel it but it was not attached to his body anymore. Scott screamed again as he realized his cock and balls had reshaped into a lute. He felt every string, every curve, every stroke like if it was his still his cock and balls. Every brush of his finger sending him waves of pleasure like he was about to cum, making his knees weak.

“Oh God,” he muttered out of fear and pleasure.

His feet and hands were the last to change. His surfer’s calloused soles smoothed into the soft, narrow feet of someone who took care of himself but still walked a lot, his toes curling in agony as the final adjustments were made. His hands, once strong and capable, became slender and delicate, perfect for plucking strings. Scott could feel that this wave of change died as his nails finished adjusting to their new form. He tried to get up, his lute still in his right hand and feeling like he was tugging his cock at the base, ready to cum any instant. As he took his first step in this new reality, clothes materialized over his trembling body, stitching themselves into place. A doublet of deep blue and gold, tight trousers, and knee-high boots encased him, completing the transformation.

Scott tried to scream, but the sound came out as a cheerful laugh. His body straightened, his new face lighting up with the unmistakable charisma of someone he didn’t know, someone far away from his real self, someone like Jaskier.

Inside his own mind, Scott’s soul writhed.

“What’s happening to me?!” he screamed, but the words were drowned out by a flood of new thoughts, new instincts.

Scott tried to scream for help but his body was not answering his orders anymore. Instead, he started to walk calmly his lute hung in his back and grinding on his soft velvety jacket, sending him waves of pleasure along the way. Then, behind a rock, he saw Geralt ahead of him, and his body moved on its own, rushing forward with a wide grin.

“Ah, Geralt, my dear friend!” he heard himself say, the voice no longer his own.

Inside, Scott’s soul screamed. He could feel everything, his new body, the weight of the lute, the way his new clothes clung to his skin, but he had no control. Every thought, every movement was dictated by an unknown force, forcing him to embody the bard’s carefree, loyal persona.

“No! I’m not Jaskier! I’m Scott!” he tried to shout, but the words never left his lips. Instead, his body turned to Geralt with a mischievous smile, delivering another line with perfect comedic timing.

Back in the living room, Ethan returned with a bowl of popcorn. He sat down next to Scott, who was watching the TV intently. Ethan looked the screen for a moment, he was sure he saw a glitch on Jaskier, like if his face went from screaming to smiling in a few seconds without any reasons. Ethan blinked and all he saw was Jaskier on pause on the screen, holding his lute in his hands, must be the sleepiness coming to his eyes, he thought, forgetting instantly what he jsut saw.

“Sorry, got a call from work. What did I miss?” Ethan asked, popping a kernel into his mouth.

Scott turned to him with a smile, his expression calm and untroubled.

“Nothing important,” he said, resuming the show, his voice soft and even. Jaskier resumed playing his lute to entertain Geralt on their journey.

Ethan relaxed on Scott's shoulder as Scott grabbed Ethan's hands, unaware of the turmoil raging within the screen as Scott’s soul was forced to entertain an audience forever trapped in this new reality, playing with his lute and begging to cum.

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys!

I’ve been meaning to post this story for a while but just couldn’t find the time to put it together properly—until now. So here it is! This story was created for @petew21-blog, based on his amazing request:

"would you be so kind and uploaded this handsome guy to my USB? I want his body empty for me to enjoy. I do need a hard pillow to cuddle while watching TV shows. And he looks comfy. I could play with those long hair, feel the heat of his muscles, bathe him... All while his body would be just empty, followed me and listened to every command I give him.

And while in bed together, we could watch some TV shows with the USB inserted in the TV with a VERY FAMILIAR actor. If you know what I mean."

I hope you all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think in the comments.

As always, my DMs are open, and you’re welcome to send me an ask if you have an idea you’d like me to explore.

Take care, and see you soon!

[sturniolo04]

Panic Attack M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

You were never the anxious type. For as long a s you could remember you didn't have anxious bone in your body. You constantly carried yourself with pure joy, contentment, and happiness. So, when you started dating Matt, you couldn't always relate and understand the anxious and sometimes depressive highs and lows he would go through but being his girlfriend, you really tried to understand and help as best as you could through the lows especially when they got really low.

This brings you to now, you are currently sitting on the couch in your apartment next to Matt, studying for another medical exam you have to take to pass this class to get you one step to majoring and having a career as a pediatrician, it being your dream, since your mom is one and you always looked up to her. You let out what you thought was a normal deep breath.

"you okay"

matt asks simply glancing over to you.

"yeah why wouldnt I be"

you slightly giggle out as Matt shakes his head playfully.

"no reason"

he replys shrugging his shoulders fixating his attention back on his computer in front of him.

" i mean i am almost done with studying I am going to get through this exam I think"

you hesitantly squeal out not being fully aware of the toll the work was getting to you and your mental state just yet.

"okay thats good im glad you feel confident about it. Are you ready to take a break and go get lunch."

matt asks as you huff out and agreement as he stands up and extends his hand out to you to help you get off of the couch.

You two hopped into his car and headed to a Chickfila to get lunch.

"you want to go in or drive thru"

matt as you two were stopped at the red light before the left turn in the parking lot. You were fixates on scrolling through a series of exams and essays you had no idea were even on your plate to complete within the next couple of months before the fall semester is over.

"baby"

matt stated gaining your attention back to reality.

"huh oh yeah um drive thru actually"

you speak up trying to forget about what you saw on your phone and that you were beginning to freak out due to the fact you have yet to write the first sentence of.

"okay are you here with me"

matt chuckles out as he reaches over running his palm on your leg in the passenger seat as he pulls up to the ordering screen in the drive thru.

"yeah sorry i just didnt realize i had more essays to write otherwise I would have said we could go in but"

you simply state out as matt start rubbing you thigh comfortably, already sensing a little bit of overwhelm that was completely going unnotice by his very own girlfriend.

"yeah its okay i get that we will get our food and head back to your place and get them done okay"

he reassures as you sigh out again.

"plus we also still have dinner with Chris Nick and Madison Beer so and that's not until later so we will still go out to eat today"

he chuckles out as he places his hand to thread through your head as you hum out in contentment.

Time Skip

you guys had made it back to your apartment with lunch and you two were sitting at the table you neatly placed in the kitchen area. You were hyperfocused on starting the essays going into hyper focus completely forget the concept of time.

"baby its time to get ready dinner is at 7pm"

matt speaks up as he closes his computer and stands up from his seat head over to you placing his hands on your shoulders, lovingly.

" matt i have to finish these essays though can we-"

you whine out slowly looking up at him.

"can we reschedule or cancel tonight"

you question sheepishly as matt begins to chuckle.

"baby no we haven't been out of the house since early this afternoon and it 5:50pm, plus it will be fun"

he persuades and reasons with you. You agreed and headed up to your room to get dressed for dinner tonight *outfit reference* As you were getting ready you felt this constant strain on your chest which again was abnormal for your so you simply blow it off considering it was probably nothing.

"you ready"

att simply asks you as you finally made your way back downstairs, sensing that same feeling of overwhelm and anxiousness on you that he sensed earlier that day.

"ye-yeah just was feeling like some tightness in my chest but I am ready lets go"

you quickly reply out, grabbing your shoes so you can put them on in the car.

"are you sure that it was nothing"

matt asks you again showing his concern of you not acknowledging you being stressed over the essays and exams you have yet to finish and study for before the semester is over in 2 months.

"yeah i promise im okay"

you simply replied ad you and him walked out the door.

Time Skip

You and Matt connected with Nick Chris and Madison at the restaurant and everything was great. You guys were catching up on everything that was going on in life which kind of allowed you to forget all about your essay and exam you had yet to finish and study for for a little bit.

"so how has med school been"

Madison asks you, shifting the conversation.

"yeah its going for sure"

you huff out as the tightness slightly returning back in your chest at the very thought and mention of school. as if school couldn't get any better you get a notification on your phone that was saying that basically your professor is deciding to have grades finalized this upcoming month instead of the following month after the next month and its march 30th already.

You start feeling like the walls were closing in on you as if you were stuck in a box and couldn't find a way out. You begin to feel the tightness in your chest become more apparent making it hard to breathe to the point where you couldn't seem to get any air in or out of your body and lungs.

"hey you okay"

Chris ask from across the table noticing you place a hand on your chest as if to make sure your alive.

"hey let's go outside for a minute yeah"

matt calmly suggests knowing exactly whats happening and because he didn't want everyone in the restaurant to focus their attention towards you. You nodded you head barely giving him the approval for him to guide you outside in the parking lot.

"i-i matt"

you shakily strain out as you place a shaky on the brick wall of the exterior of the restaurant to help you sit on the floor.

"hey hey"

matt soothes walking over to you.

"tell me whats going on"

"i i cant breathe matt w-whats happening to me"

you exclaims uncontrollably sobbing, as matt kneels in front of you placing his forehead on your bring one of your hands to his chest to give you the awareness that you were still alive and that he was there with you.

"yes you can. Youre having a panic attack love its okay match my breathing"

He softly speaks as he begins inhaling and exhaling deeply, as you slowly follow along.

"there you go"

he whispers seeing your normal state of breathing return to normal, he moves from kneeling to sit next you.

"that was really scary thats never happened to me before"

you softly speak out as you lean your head on his shoulder.

"yeah i think school caught up to you didn't it"

he questions as you slightly sigh and nod you head not daring to speak on that topic currently.

"can we just go home i want to get some sleep"

you calmly ask, looking up at matt.

"of course lets go tell everyone bye then"

he replies helping you to stand up.

"hey are you okay"

nick asks you softly

"yeah"

you softly let out.

"i think we are going to head out she's not feeling the best so I am going to take her to get some rest"

matt chimes in as he brings you into his side rubbing your arm softly.

"aw okay we will see you guys soon its okay"

madison replies getting up and hugging the pair along with chris and nick following.

"feel better and we will see you at home I guess matt right"

chris states and asks.

"maybe i will text you if i end up staying at her place"

matt simply replies to his brother.

"fine by us"

nick chimes in as you two finally leave and get in the car.

You guys barely even made it out of the parking lot before you were already fast asleep in the passenger seat.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff@ @spicymuffins03 @ksturnz @stayingstromboli @emely9274

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: good morning, my loves, how do we feel about scheduled posts all the way through the holiday? (if you're in america)

part 14: the waking nightmare

word count: 2,053

tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The morning after the fire, the air in Birmingham still carried the acrid scent of smoke and charred wood. Arthur, John, Michael, and Finn stood before the blackened husk of the bookshop, their expressions grim as they surveyed the damage. The once-cozy place, lined with stories and secrets, was now a gutted shell of ash and rubble. They didn't know what they'd find, and they didn't know where to start looking. All they could think was that, maybe, there would be something in there that survived, something they could bring back to you.

“Damn shame,” Arthur muttered, stepping through the splintered doorway. His boots crunched against debris of blistered leather and paper. "Who’d go after a bloody bookshop?"

“Someone who wanted her out of the picture,” Michael said coolly, running a hand over the soot-streaked frame of the doorway. He glanced at Finn, who remained silent, his eyes scanning the wreckage as if he could will it to yield answers. "Or they thought this was the only way to draw her out. They could've killed her."

John knelt by the remnants of a desk, brushing away ash to reveal twisted metal and scorched wood. “Whatever’s left, it’s not much,” he said with a grimace, standing and wiping his hands on his trousers. “Place is done for.”

Finn, determined, ventured further in. The steps up to your former office creaked beneath his feet. He walked through slowly, assessing each stair as the cracks from the fire revealed themselves.

When he stepped inside, his face fell to a somber frown. The chair where he once sat was withered down to bare bones. The pictures were all black and their frames cracked.

His gaze caught on a blackened drawer barely clinging to its hinges. Something about it felt off—as if it had stubbornly resisted the flames’ grasp. With effort, he pried it open, revealing a charred stack of papers, a silver pen dulled by soot, and a faded leather-bound book, its edges singed but intact. He removed the items from the drawer, and from the book, a photograph fell, landing face down on the floor.

The picture had been protected, shielded from the worst of the fire, though the edges curled slightly from the heat. Finn picked it up carefully, revealing the image of a man in a sharp suit with a dark, knowing smile. The background suggested another time, another place—your world before Birmingham and the Peaky Blinders.

“What’d you find, Finn?” Arthur asked, his voice low. Finn handed the photo to him, and Arthur studied it, his brow furrowing. “Who’s the fancy lad?”

Michael leaned over Arthur’s shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Could be a family member. Maybe, a former lover,” he said. "This was locked away, wasn’t it?"

John, who’d been sifting through another pile, turned his attention to them. “So y/n had a secret,” he said, smirking. “Don't look so surprised.”

Finn, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, said, “You think it’s why this happened? Him?”

Arthur shook his head. “I think we've learned by now not to make any assumptions about her.”

“You gonna tell him about this?” John asked, nodding to the photograph.

Arthur hesitated, his gaze lingering on the face in the picture. “He’ll need to know.”

Finn frowned, taking the photo back and slipping it carefully into his coat pocket. “We could just leave it alone. For all she knows, it burned up with the rest of this place.”

John scoffed. “Finn, someone torched this shop. Shot at her in the dark. Someone went through a lot of trouble just to rattle her.”

Michael, still surveying the remains of the office, added, “We should tell Tommy first then. I don't think we're going to find anymore answers here.”

The four of them stood for a moment longer, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. The charred remnants of you life felt like a puzzle, each piece telling a story they were only beginning to uncover.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

You woke with a twitch, your breath ragged and your body trembling. The room was dark, but there was warmth surrounding you, steady and grounding. For a moment, you couldn’t place it. Your mind was still tangled in the remnants of the nightmare that woke you. The warmth wasn't a claw from the dream. You weren't alone.

Tommy’s arms were around you, firm but not confining. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding you like he was afraid you might break but unwilling to let go. His face was close, his breath brushing against your hair.

He said your name softly, his voice cutting through the haze of fear.

You stiffened, instinctively pulling back, but he didn’t let you go entirely. His hands moved to your shoulders, anchoring you as your breathing slowed.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was rough with sleep and embarrassment. "Why are you still here?"

“You were...” he started to say, his tone calm but edged. He gently brushed the hair laced with sweat from your forehead. “You were having a nightmare. Couldn't wake you.”

You couldn't explain yourself, but the thought of him seeing you in the middle of an episode that haunted you nightly was unsettling. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the blanket.

“It was just a dream,” you whispered.

“That would be putting it lightly.”

You nodded reluctantly. “It’s nothing. They come and go.”

“Since the fire?”

“Before that,” your admitted, so softly that he could barely hear it.

Tommy’s gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might ask more. But instead, he shifted slightly, leaning closer without crowding.

“What were you dreaming about?” he whispered.

Your chest tightened at his gentle prod, a part of you wanting to lash out, to push him away before he could ask something much more invasive, but you were exhausted. The wounds were still fresh, and your mind was stretched thin. It had been that way for a long time. Any second now, and the fine, tensed wire that kept you from revealing everything would snap.

“I have no answer for you now that would satisfy your curiosity.” You desperately wanted to feel the pillow but rested your head against his shoulder, momentarily accepting the close quarters and the feeling of safety in his hold.

Tommy’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. When he did, his voice was softer than she expected. “What's his name, then?”

The simplicity of the question caught you off guard. “How could you possibly—”

“Because I see them too,” he interrupted, his tone sharper. “The ones I’ve lost. The ones I’ve killed. It doesn’t go away, y/n. Eventually, we all end up this way. Haunted. Even if it's only while we sleep.”

His honesty disarmed you, but you felt his honest comment with something more than annoyance. Tommy was showing you that he understood. That he, too, felt the weight of a hundred souls that never let him sleep without the constant reminder that they have yet to move on.

“Does it ever stop?” you asked after a long silence.

"I have yet to lie to you since we've met, and I don't plan to lie now."

Tommy's thumb gently stroked your shoulder, and it brought comfort to the aching throb beneath. The urge to move away from him subsided. For now, you would accept his company because it was better than being alone with the dreams that could so easily return the moment he left.

“You were screaming." Tommy's voice hung low as he steadied himself to admit more than he would usually care to. “And I can’t stand to see you like that.”

Like a reflex, your cheek met his chest, and the scent of him washed over you like a comforting fire. You leaned into him, and he shifted beneath you until you rested comfortably in the crook of his arm. “Why?”

As if he felt the change in your body, he pressed his lips to your hair and sighed. He closed his eyes with the last of his admission. “I don't know.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Two people in pain are no good to each other, Tommy,” you said softly. "Maybe it's best we be alone."

“You're right,” Tommy replied. “But this doesn't seem so bad.”

The seconds of being alone in the safety of Arrow House hit the both of you like a warm light, blinding you from the doubts that you knew would eventually return. But, for now, you and Tommy accepted that if either of you were truly better off alone, then one night wouldn't do much to ruin you anymore than you already were.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The room had settled into a stillness that seemed fragile, as if one wrong word or movement might shatter it. Tommy sat propped against the headboard, his arm wrapped securely around you as you rested against his chest. Your breathing had slowed, teetering on the edge of a deep sleep, but he could tell by the faint tension in your body that you were somewhere just before it.

Tommy glanced down at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. His hand idly brushed over your arm in a gesture so unfamiliar to him it almost startled him to realize he was doing it.

“y/n,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than the whisper of the night outside.

You hummed in acknowledgement, the sleep finding you quickly.

“Bingham,” he whispered. “What happened?”

Perhaps, now wasn't the time, but at this time of night, the thought that you might be so exhausted that you wouldn't be able to hide it anymore encouraged him to keep trying. At first, he thought you might not answer. But then you sighed, your voice soft and gentle, your real voice beneath all that you'd let others hear until now.

“He knew,” you said, your words slow, as if you were piecing them together in your half-awake state.

“Knew what?”

“About him.”

Tommy’s chest tightened, his grip on you tightening slightly. “The man you loved?”

You nodded against him, leaning into him just gently enough to make yourself more comfortable. You didn’t elaborate, and he waited, knowing that pressing too hard would push you back into silence.

“What did he know?” Tommy asked after a moment, his voice even quieter than before.

“That it broke me."

Tommy leaned his head against the bed. He stared into nothing as he braced himself for whatever you would reveal. He didn't know if he'd be ready for any of it, but not knowing would sooner drive him to madness.

“What happened to him?”

When you finally spoke, your voice was distant, as though you were reliving the memory. In your head, all the visions you kept at bay coursed through your mind, seeing the man Tommy so reluctantly asked about.

“He was so sad... And I couldn't fix it. It was all my fault.”

Tommy’s mind raced to piece together what little you were giving him. He wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but your voice cut through his thoughts.

“I wanted to die,” she muttered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t catch them. “So fucking badly.”

The admission hit Tommy harder than he expected. His fingers tightened slightly on your arm, grounding himself in the present though he felt himself being pulled into your nightmare.

“I couldn't,” you continued, breaths slowly deepening as sleep pulled back your speech. “I tried.”

You were quiet for a long time, and he thought you might have fallen asleep. But then you shifted, your nose nuzzling into his chest like a place of comfort. Your voice was drowsy but filled with a quiet resolve.

“Death scared me, too,” you said against his shirt, your words slurring as sleep began to take hold. “And dying didn't wouldn't mean I'd get him back.”

Tommy let the silence stretch after that, his mind a storm of questions and emotions he wasn’t ready to face. He glanced down at you, your breathing evening out as you drifted into sleep.

He held you a little tighter, his hand brushing against your hair in an unconscious gesture of comfort. The weight of your words stayed with him until he, too, found sleep. Though it would not be so comforting as he would have wished.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 77

While Mosspounce’s bruises heal, the broken bone takes one of Downstar’s lives.

[Image ID: Mosspounce and Downstar are healed. Under Mosspounce, it says - CONDITION: BRUISES. Under Downstar, it says - CONDITION: BROKEN BONE, LIVES LEFT: 2.]

(Mosspounce: 38, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Downstar: 136, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

A rogue asks the Clan to care for their son, Shrew, now that he is weaned.

[Image ID: Oilstripe, Carnationspeckle, and Waspdawn find a red kit. Under the three of them, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING. Under the kit, it says NEW PLAYER: SHREWKIT, 1, MALE, BOSSY, NEVER SITS STILL.]

---

There were no safe patrols anymore. In Oilstripe’s mind, she could see what Anchovypaw reported every time he returned from patrol; black ichor smearing the grass and trees, the spiritual residue of monsters that lurked in the corner of your eye. Everyone knew that was why Silverpaw never returned to camp. Perhaps it was also why Oilstripe never saw the young molly’s spirit. Troutpool’s dreams simply told her Silverpaw had made it to the stars… eventually. That was why no apprentice could leave camp alone. That was why even the senior warriors asked for a few extra eyes to accompany them, even when not on patrol.

Today, Oilstripe had Carnationspeckle and Waspdawn to watch her back as they marked their borders. Haunted or not, RippleClan couldn’t give Gentlestar or Eelstar any ideas about expanding their territory in RippleClan’s time of crisis. They patrolled along AshClan's border first, spreading their scent wherever it smelled weak.

"Do you think anyone over there mourned for Weedfoot?" Carnationspeckle asked as Waspdawn finished marking a tree that sat right on the border.

"I'm sure of it," Oilstripe huffed.

"She saved their flanks," Waspdawn muttered, rejoining the couple. "They should be honored my mother deigned to help them." Deep within AshClan territory, the spirit of one of their warriors strolled through the trees. Even though they ignored Oilstripe, she felt the need to dip her head to the StarClan warrior. They could have killed one of the Ashes in the Water, for all she knew, but it felt right. It felt like the sort of diplomacy a deputy should show the former members of a different Clan.

"Who's that?" Carnationspeckle asked, her gaze following Oilstripe's. The ginger molly startled. Did her mate see the spirit too? But then Waspdawn's focus settled on something within the trees. Oilstripe's shock faded when a tortoiseshell, a living tortoiseshell, walked through the StarClan ghost. She carried a bright red kit in her jaws. The kit had a sharp blaze of white on his forehead that reminded Oilstripe of a star, or a half-moon set against a sunset. Oilstripe didn't recognize the tortoiseshell, but she knew her escorts. Barkfur walked beside the tortoiseshell, with Heronflank and newly graduated warrior Fernwhisper behind them.

"Ah, Deputy Oilstripe," Barkfur sighed as he approached the border. "Good, good. It's better we don't wait around."

"Who's this little tom?" Carnationspeckle purred, sniffing the red kitten.

"I'm Shrew," the kitten declared, wiggling as much as he could with his scruff in his mother's mouth. "Mom, let me go!" Shrew's mother obliged, placing her son at her paws. Shrew immediately tried to race off, but his mother hooked a paw around him.

"You're not an AshClan cat," Waspdawn noted.

"I hail from the northwest," the queen explained. "I… I've heard stories that the Clans take in kits whose mothers can't care for them."

"We…" Carnationspeckle said, blinking rapidly as she processed what the queen wanted. "We do. My daughter was one of those kits."

"We found her wandering our territory," Barkfur said. "We explained to her that AshClan isn't taking in cats from outside the Clan, but that RippleClan may be more open to assisting her."

"And we will, if that's what you want," Waspdawn said, dipping his head to the queen. "But.. why can't you care for Shrew?"

"He's the last of his litter," the queen sighed as Shrew, oblivious to the adults around him, nipped at his mother's grasp. "They all fell ill, I'm worried it's in their blood. I thought Clan medicine could help my son."

"He seems healthy to me," Carnationspeckle hummed. Shrew finally broke away from his mother and tumbled across the border. He chomped onto Oilstripe's leg with sharp kitten teeth. Oilstripe yelped and batted the excitable kit off.

"Very healthy," Waspdawn chuckled.

"So did his siblings," the queen gulped.

"You don't have to give him away," Oilstripe explained as Shrew gawked at Waspdawn's half-tail. "You can join RippleClan as well. We've accepted a few mothers in your position."

"I can't," the queen whined, flinching. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm destined for the Other Side. I don't belong here. I waited until he, he, he was weaned, but… this is better. He deserves better than me." The queen looked to Barkfur and sighed, "I'm ready to go now."

"RippleClan will treat your son well," Barkfur promised. "We'll escort you to the river." He nodded to Heronflank and Fernwhisper, ready to depart.

"That's it?" Oilstripe huffed as Shrew finally paid attention to his mother. "No, you… you should tell your son something."

"Tell me what?" Shrew cocked his head. The queen stared back, her posture stiff. She swallowed hard. She kept opening her mouth, ready to explain, but she lost her courage each time.

"I'll see you in a while, Shrew," she finally croaked. She spun around before she could falter. Heronflank and Fernwhisper led Barkfur and the queen through the thick blankets of golden needles, under the gray-speckled leaves that clung to the trees, refusing to acknowledge the coming winter.

"You didn't give us your name!" Carnationspeckle suddenly yowled. Yet the queen didn't turn back. Her escort led her farther and farther from her only remaining kit.

"I know her name," Shrew huffed. "It's Mom."

A short while later, Shrew sat in the nursery while Troutpool put her nose in his ear, checking for fever. Oilstripe, Carnationspeckle, and Downstar sat around her, waiting for a diagnosis. Shrew laughed when Troutpool pulled her nose out. He itched his ear and ogled the Clan's vast medicine stores.

"He needs a better diet," Troutpool sighed, "but he's a healthy young tom. I don't see any signs of disease."

"Could his mother have lied about his littermates?" Downstar asked Oilstripe. "Perhaps she just wanted an excuse to give her child away."

"Why don't you ask her?" Shrew shot back, a tiny paw reaching for a pot. "She said she's coming back." Troutpool gently shoved his paw away.

"He doesn't understand," Carnationspeckle whispered. "I think he's too young."

"We could have Paleseed explain things to him," Downstar suggested.

"Maybe we let him believe that until he's settled into RippleClan," Carnationspeckle said.

"Mom?" Rattlepelt and Wildclaw trotted to the medicine den, peering around the older mollies. Leaves clung to Rattlepelt's fox pelt, mixing with the carefully woven lavender. Wildclaw crouched and scanned under Downstar's legs.

"Hi, Rattlepelt," Carnationspeckle purred, absent-mindedly touching her daughter's nose before turning back to Shrew. "We're a little busy right now. Can we talk later?"

"Halibut told us about the kit," Wildclaw huffed. "Rattlepelt insisted we meet him."

"That's a bit of a bold word," Rattlepelt chuckled. "I just suggested we stop by the medicine den."

"What are you?" Shrew gaped at Rattlepelt with giant blue eyes. There was no fear in his stare, like when a new apprentice met Rattlepelt at a Gathering and Oilstripe had to hide their shock from her adopted daughter. His gaze was more like emerging from the darkest level of the ocean into the sun.

"I'm a cat," Rattlepelt laughed. She squeezed around Carnationspeckle and sat next to Shrew. "My name is Rattlepelt, and this is my mate, Wildclaw." Shrew put his paws on Rattlepelt's fox pelt and his eyes grew bigger. He shoved his face into the red fur, purring.

"You're so soft!" Shrew gasped.

"Why don't you play with it?" Rattlepelt suggested. "Just be very careful." Rattlepelt slipped off her fox pelt and laid it in front of Shrew.

"You can take your fur off?" Shrew squealed. While that idea would have disturbed Oilstripe at Shrew's age, the little kit simply dove into the leather pelt, rolling in the well-groomed fur. Wildclaw laughed, and even Downstar managed to chuckle.

"I heard your mother asked us to take care of you," Rattlepelt said, laying beside Shrew. "My mother did the same thing when I was a kit. It was a little scary, but I'm glad she gave me up. I got Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe as my new mothers, and I'm very happy in RippleClan."

"You can have more than one mom?" Shrew sat up, the fox's tail covering his face.

"You can," Rattlepelt purred. She gazed tenderly at Shrew as he sniffed the fox pelt's lavender accents. She turned to Wildclaw, beckoning her inside. Wildclaw sat by her mate, similarly entranced by the little red kitten.

"You know, Shrew," Wildclaw purred, "now that you're staying with us, you'll get to sleep in the nursery. We don't want you to be lonely in there. If you want, Rattlepelt and I can move in with you. You can share a nest with us."

"Can I sleep with this?" Shrew asked, his teeth digging into the fox pelt.

"You can," Rattlepelt laughed, voice catching. She turned to Wildclaw, whispering, "Are you sure you want this? I don't want to hurt him."

"When it's just you in there," Wildclaw chuckled, gently batting Rattlepelt's head, "you'd die before you hurt a kit. You'll be great." Wildclaw and Rattlepelt snuggled against each other.

"Congratulations," Troutpool chirped, bunting her older sister. "Oh, I get to be an aunt! I'll make sure there's a nest ready for you." She squirmed around the other mollies and hurried to the nursery, squealing like a kit.

"Welcome to grandmotherhood, you two," Downstar chuckled, playfully nudging Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle.

"My heart was not ready for this," Oilstripe laughed awkwardly, trying to breathe.

"Shrew, from now on, you can call me Grandma," Carnationspeckle declared, diving to Shrew's level.

"I will!" Shrew chirped, utterly unaware of the implications. Carnationspeckle squealed and pressed against Rattlepelt with a deep purr. Oilstripe joined the family gathering, her heart expanding to make way for her bright, enthusiastic grandson.

(Oilstripe: 81, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Carnationspeckle: 79, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Waspdawn: 43, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Shrewkit: 1, male, kit, bossy, never sits still)

(Troutpool: 38, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Downstar: 136, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Rattlepelt: 60, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Wildclaw: 69, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

Moontide, Vervaincough, Anchovystrike, and Billowhaze graduate from their apprenticeships together.

[Image ID: Moontide, Vervaincough, Anchovystrike, and Billowhaze are all grown up! Under Moontide, it says LEVEL UP! MOONPAW → MOONTIDE, QUICK TO HELP → EXCELLENT TEACHER. Under Vervaincough, it says LEVEL UP! VERVAINPAW → VERVAINCOUGH, BLOODTHIRSTY → INSECURE, LOVES NATURE → UNDERSTANDS NATURE, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE → GOOD MEDIATOR. Under Anchovystrike, it says LEVEL UP! ANCHOVYPAW → ANCHOVYSTRIKE, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → DEEP STARCLAN BOND. Under Billowhaze, it says LEVEL UP! BILLOWPAW → BILLOWHAZE, THOUGHTFUL → LOYAL, ACTIVE IMAGINATION → GOOD KITSITTER.]

(Moontide: 12, female, warrior, playful, excellent teacher)

(Vervaincough: 12, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)

(Anchovystrike: 12, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)

(Billowhaze: 12, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)

During their assessments, Currentpaw and Yarrowpaw find a former kittypet/Witch Hunter interested in joining the Clan. He takes on the name Venturedapple and becomes a codekeeper.

[Image ID: Currentpaw and Yarrowpaw stare at a long-furred brown and white tom. Under the tom, it says NEW PLAYER: VENTUREDAPPLE, 65, MALE, COLD, ELOQUENT SPEAKER.]

(Currentpaw: 12, male, caretaker, loving, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)

(Yarrowpaw: 12, female, warrior apprentice, thoughtful, stares at fire)

(Venturedapple: 65, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

[kittomykat]

Probably not gonna finish this, so have at it.

🔞🔞Sub Vik/Dom Reader || No reader anatomy discussed, Vik steals your undies lol

Vik steals your underwear, shaky hands reach down to palm his growing erection. Coaxing it to life as he doesn't know how much time he has in this moment. You might be there any second. He thinks about what you might do if you catch him there, fist full of your underwear and canting his hips back and forth. He considers your disgusted face, brows furrowed and stiff lips, and somehow that excites him. He then considers if you'd like to play along. If you'd sink to the floor on your knees and swallow him whole. Or better yet, force him on his knees and you can show him something even better than just your used underwear.

He's fully hard now and he spreads his legs open in the chair he's laid over, hurriedly unfastening his pants. He lets out a heavy sigh as he runs his fingers over his dick, he wishes he could taste you. His tongue slips out for just a moment, wets his lips, and touches the fabric gently. He imagines what it's like with you, would you run your fingers gently through his hair? Would you grab him roughly and ride his face? He grows lightheaded at the thought, and his wrist slowly services himself. The door clicks open.

Your voice is soft, eyes searching the room as he lays on the chair perfectly still. Your eyes find his and you gasp, shock washing over you and boiling into interest. He doesn't need to know that, though. Your expression falls, and you enter the room fully, not breaking eye contact and closing the door behind you. He inhales, fingers still around his dick, and waits.

So do you. You stand and watch him, stiff lips and eyes unmoving. He suddenly feels a wave, a typhoon of shame reaching from his neck down to his toes. He starts to move, lowering the stolen underwear and opening his mouth.

You smile.

You love making him squirm, keeping up the facade of anger was so fun. You smile and walk towards him, arms crossed.

"I didn't think you were that much of a pervert."

The shame that washed over him returns, but this time it makes his dick twitch. Your eyes scan him, committing this scene to memory and you start to speak.

"Can you get on your knees?" Voice soft but firm. It's an agreement all the same as he slowly maneuvers himself from the chair down into the floor. In two steps, you close the distance, legs shoulder width apart, watching Viktor's trembling chin only inches from your sex. He looks down, the shame from before simmers in his gut and he lets go of his dick. His hands rub at his thighs, hoping you'll make a move soon.

Your soft hand traces his temple, to his cheek bone, and then to his chin. Slowly pressing it upwards to look at you, you smile.

"Having fun?" It was a genuine question, you'd never seen him act out like this before. He nods.

"Did you want me to catch you?" His eyes break away, thinking, considering what he should say and how he should say it. You can see the gears turning in his head, it's so charming.

"Vitya," his eyes snap back to yours, lips parted. "I asked you a question, my love."

"Yes. I wanted you to catch me. I wanted to see what you'd do."

Your head tilts as you think. Your eyes hold his in place, the soft amber which reflects all the love you give him and doubles it.

"So I've caught you, malen'kaya myshka. What shall I do with you now?"

He swallows.

________

Wrote this a few months ago and I never got the urge to write more, so here's a nice little daydream for you. ♥

[burgundyskiez]

Burnin’ up - Daryl Dixon

The crisp, late autumn, morning air danced across my face, leaving a frost bitten numbness on my skin. I could no longer feel my fingers, and the sound of my teeth chattering filled my ears. The weekly trek from Hilltop felt like a good job at the time in which I volunteered for it, deciding that the solitude on the journey would be an enjoyable experience that could break up the hustle and bustle of the up and coming settlement. However, as the winter months drew closer, I quickly realised why nobody else jumped so quickly at the opportunity to escape the busyness. My bow slung over my shoulder haphazardly, and my many times reused arrows tucked into a thigh strap I’d made especially to hold them, each took turns clanging and clattering against the sack of supplies, food and filtered water I heaved on my travels. I was surprised I hadn’t drawn more walkers in my direction or towards my destination, that I was close approaching.

Upon my arrival, I whistled once making my presence known as I usually did, yet I still jumped in surprised at the paws that lunged into my back. I chuckled softly, turning to fuss over the furry boy who panted loudly and wagged his tail happily, “Hey Dog. You’re just getting better at sneaking up on me each time, ain’t ya?” I scratched behind his ears and ruffled the fur about his neck, until an amused grunt rang from beside me.

I stood up fully again, turning to smile politely at Daryl, “Hope I didn’t barge in on ya, but I’m sure you expected me at some point soon.” I dropped the sack of supplies on the floor between our feet, pulling the string that tied it loose and grabbing out a bone, waving it around for Dog before throwing it and chuckling as I watched him run after it.

Daryl grunted again as he bent to pick up the sack, throwing it over his shoulder and walking up towards his tent, he spoke as he did so, “Ain’t ever expect Carol to give up on this delivery thing. Tried to talk ‘er outta it many times.” He dropped the sack inside his large tent, before turning to me again. “How’s things up there?” He asked gruffly, holding up a metal cup, silently offering me a drink, and beginning to boil water on the fire that was burning proudly.

I followed him over to the fire, plopping myself down onto a log beside it, opposite where Daryl was crouched, tending to the pot on the fire. I chuckled, “Busy as ever. They wanna make sure everything is just right, you know? Carol and Maggie are working really hard to ensure things run smoothly, s’just nice to get out once in a while.” Daryl nodded as I spoke, moving backwards to sit on the log behind him, waiting for the water to reach a boil.

He looked tired, his under eyes were darkened, his head was held lower, even his posture was more slumped. His physical exhaustion was only half of it though, he was entirely spent emotionally too, having been out looking for any traces of Rick since the incident at the bridge. Each time I visited, I knew he was getting worse, but I also knew that he simply would not give up trying.

I spoke quietly, breaking the silence as I held my frozen hands out above the fire, “He wouldn’t want you exhausting yourself to near death, Daryl.” Tension filled his body instantly, and his face visibly battled against the instant harsh response he wanted to retort with, instead taking a moment before speaking quietly, “I know, but he’s m’brother. I ain’t gonna give up ‘til I know he’s gone. He gave me chances, I’ll give him his in survivin’ if he’s out there.”

I smiled sadly, nodding, knowing he was right, that Rick had given all of us our fair share of chances, we all owed a lot to him. A short moment of silence fell upon us once again, before Daryl dunked both of the metal cups into the boiled water and passed me mine, “ain’t much, but should warm y’up. Yer shiverin’ is making me feel even colder.” He chuckled softly, the faintest smile on his lips as his tired eyes met mine briefly. I chuckled in response and held the hot cup in my gloved hands, sighing happily at the feeling returning through my fingers.

In the first few months since I joined the group, Daryl and I hardly knew each other’s names, let alone spoke, figuring we wouldn’t have much, if anything in common. Despite the close relationship I quickly gained with Carol, who soon filled a mother-figure shaped hole in my heart, Daryl and I had little idea about the others similar family-type of bond with her. It wasn’t until we were teamed up together, tasked with the difficult job of finding Carol after one of her desperate for some kind of escape from the pressure and emotional turmoil run aways, only then did we realise we had a lot more in common than we thought, and that we both bloody loved that wonderful, emotionally exhausted woman. Our joint determination allowed us to find her in just a few days and convince her to return to the group, to us, her family.

A rustle in the bushes startled me, the metal cup in my hand quickly forgotten about as I stood up quickly and tore my bow from my shoulder, snapping up an arrow from my leg strap and aiming my weapon in the direction of the noise. Failing to see any incoming walkers and instead a tail-waggling Dog, Daryl’s laughter shook me out of my fighting response, and then allowed me to feel the burning sensation running across my left leg. “Shit!” I croaked out, my face contorted into a look of pure pain. Daryl’s laughter quickly subsided and he rushed to my side, his face screwed into a look of concern and worry, noticing the metal cup on the floor at my feet, and his eyes finally landing on the boiling hot wet patch covering my left leg.

Daryl immediately crouched at my feet and began sawing through the material of my cargo leg, tearing the rest once he’d made a big enough slash. My leg was red raw, the deep crimson was jeering at us as it waded across my skin, feeling like it was clawing into my bones. I wanted to move, but my body was rigid, dense as a black hole, completely stuck in an inescapable prison.

Suddenly, my feet were off the ground, my body horizontal, legs travelling before me towards the lake, supported by Daryl’s arms. The archer raced into the water, further and further until his waist down was submerged in the soothing frost bitten water, a rush of relief flowed through me. I looked at Daryl for the first time, whose concerned, ice blue orbs met mine. Instinctively, I tightly wrapped my arms around his neck, holding onto him, a silent, brutally vulnerable ‘thank you’ being translated. Slowly, almost uncertainly, his strong arms encapsulated my form, and I allowed my forehead to fall to his shoulder.

The bite of the cold lake sent sudden chills through my body, causing me to pull away from the hug. I looked at Daryl with a small smile before speaking, my teeth chattering comedically, “before I lose any limbs to the cold water, or whatever is swimming in it, I think we should get out.” I chuckle and ruffle Daryl’s hair, before making my way up the bank and back towards the tent, hearing a second pair of heavy footsteps behind me belonging to the hunter.

Daryl rushed ahead and grabbed two blankets from his tent, gesturing for me to sit by the fire again, unfolding one of the blankets and waiting for me to take a seat on the log before draping the blanket around my shoulders. I smiled softly, immediately pulling the blanket tightly around me. As he began to turn towards the opposite log, my voice startled even me, “Sit next to me…” I tried to cover up the embarrassment I felt at the question I’d asked, chuckling softly and silently thanking the heavens above that I was far too cold to blush, “body warmth should heat us up faster, right?”

Daryl froze in place, still for a moment, looking at me with eyes full of surprise. The once certain impossibility of my face flushing red with regret now seemed a lot more likely. I quickly broke eye contact with the man I’d just completely made a fool of myself in front of, suddenly finding my shoes incredibly interesting. Until, a warmth appeared beside me and a larger pair of combat boots joined mine in front of the log, I didn’t dare to lift my head, knowing my face was in fact flushed completely now.

A large, rough hand grasped my chin gently, as if I was porcelain that could crumble under the slightest amount of force. I finally lifted my head, meeting those ice blue eyes once again, that somehow seemed to spread such a warmth throughout me, however when they fell from my eyes down to my lips, I felt all of my breath leave my lungs. My head nodded softly in response without me being able to think beforehand, and he finally closed the space between us.

[lukeskqwalker]

ok, so. lucanis's recruitment quest doesn't make a whole lot of sense at first glance, so this is my attempt of putting together what the fuck you walked into and what daily life there was like.

to start, i don't believe the room you meet lucanis in is his cell at all. i think lucanis had succeeded in 85% of his breakout when you recruit him. the cells that were shown were much smaller and more sparse, I believe he was not given special treatment. I believe he managed to kill the guard bringing his meal, broke out, got his gear back (armor, sweater, knives, etc), and killed MOST of the guards. the sheer number of guards caught up to him, and some mages managed to encase him in ice and lock the door with red lyrium while waiting for someone else to bring his blood so that they could transfer him back to his cell.

I can't decide how much, if at all, spite showed himself in the ossuary before his attempted breakout. part of me wants to say that he spent the entire time as spite (lucanis's quote about how he survived by shutting down completely, be nothing, feel nothing, etc. makes me think that he genuinely just gave spite the reins), and the other part of me wonders what lucanis meant when he said that they were waiting for spite to burst from him like a cocoon. Like, the physical demon of spite, killing lucanis in the process? or the symbiotic relationship they have now, just manifesting physically like when he has the wings/is in control? I'm leaning towards the first one, though the feel nothing/be nothing quote could still apply if spite never showed himself.

as for the blood, i'm sure they used it often to walk him to the torture/experiment room and for, well, general human needs. that's why he knows its there.

side note. lucanis knew who a LOT of zaras people were, and mentions their role in the bloodbath quest. (helpfully named, as its the one with the bath. of blood.) when you kill one of zaras people, he mentions how this one used to come to the ossuary to read bones. why is he there for this? how long would he be kept on a torture table to know these things? how many times has he attempted to escape and gotten part of the way through before being stopped?

I DO wonder if spite could sense the red lyrium cage breaking and That be why he decided to break out of the ice right in that moment.

going back to the gear, its... well. a hilarious detail thats fitting to his character. its so tidy! he wears a little bolo tie! his shirt is completely laced to the top! hes got that HOMEMADE SWEATERRRRRRRR. all while attempting a prison break. I think it was supposed to add to the fear factor and thus go back to the crow training related to throwing the target off guard. also, probably helped with feeling more human instead of an experiment.

[crtter]

Why, that’s my main man Louis XVI! We all know him. You know, married Marie Antoinette, helped with the American Revolution War, lost his head during the French Revolution… Louisville in Kentucky is named after him! I like this portrait. It has him wearing his coronation robes. Very snazzy. It wasn’t painted at the time of his coronation though. He was 19 when he ascended to the throne after his grandfather, Louis XV, died from smallpox. He got a different portrait of him painted then. This is a later piece, from the 1780s, if I’m not mistaken. I think he’s in his mid-thirties here.

Anyway, his non-king name was Louis Auguste, he was born in August 23, 1754 and he has never caught a single break in his life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in the greater scheme of things the French Revolution was a net positive for the world. Like, my country could still be a colony to this day if Napoleon hadn’t ascended to the throne and scared the king of Portugal into going hiding in Brazil. But you can’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Nothing ever went his way!

To start off, he was never meant to be king at all and, in his heart, he’d probably would rather have been anything else. His father was the next in the line of succession, and after him, it would be his older brother, who his family like, HEAVILY favored over him and didn’t even try to hide it. This meant he didn’t get nearly as good of an education as his brother did, getting stuck with an elderly, very conservative tutor who mostly only taught him religion and morals. But his brother would die at only nine years old (Louis was six then) from a bone infection after a bad fall from being pushed a little too hard while roughhousing with his friends. Then his father would die as well, of tuberculosis, when he was eleven, and his mother would follow a bit over a year later, having fallen into a deep depression after her husband’s death. So most of his immediate family drops dead and Louis becomes heir to the throne. Turns out he couldn’t have done so in worst circumstances: he inherited a lot of debt from his predecessors, had to deal with the repercussions of an unusually harsh winter that destroyed crops all over France and he just didn’t have a single authoritarian bone in his body.

It’s not like he was unintelligent. Much to the contrary, actually: he taught himself how to speak Italian, Spanish and English (the latter, reportedly, because he loved ships and navigation and he wanted to read Captain James Cook’s memoirs and Robinson Crusoe in the language they were originally written), had his own personal library, mastered advanced calculus and was and passionate about cartography, clockmaking and locksmithing. He was far from a tyrant or out of touch with his people either. He liked to secretly visits poor families in person and give them money that had been reserved for his own personal expenses, often took decisions that were the opposite of what was advised to him because, in his own words, “it might not be what’s best for the country but it’s what the people want and I want people to like me”, and held progressive values for a man of his time, passing or at least attempting to pass laws prohibiting the persecution of religious minorities, abolishing torture, serfdom and the death penalty.

So, why did Louis XVI die in the way he did? There were a lot of factors, of course. One of them is just because he was a symbol of the monarchy that had been plunging the country into more and more debt for the past 100 years, but a key one was that he was just awfully indecisive. It was it hard for him to make important decisions as quickly as he should and easy for him to be persuaded by other people of what he should do, which made for some pretty inconsistent, often poor results. He also hated attracting attention to himself so he refused getting statues and paintings made to celebrate his accomplishments, which made the public largely unaware of the good things he did while VERY aware of his shortcomings, real and imagined, because political cartoon artists had a field day with him and his wife. His contemporaries also thought of him as kind of uncouth and not very bright due to the fact he was shy and awkward. He was a bad public speaker, prone to going into uncomfortable silences mid-conversation and had a hard time looking people in the eye, which gave him an uncharismatic reputation. But, most importantly, Louis just… didn’t fight back. He was chronically insecure. Eager for approval. He could’ve easily thwarted the initial revolts with his personal army but he felt like raising weapons against his own people was as unforgivable as doing so against his own children. So he made a point to forbid his men from attacking the revolutionaries and to try and talk it out with them and give in to their demands, eventually even letting himself and his family to be taken into house arrest to Paris.

More things happen after that, but the gist of it is, even though Louis was technically in decent terms with the revolutionaries and on board with being stripped of all his power and becoming a constitutional monarch, even writing to his brothers to demand that they do not try anything counterrevolutionary and that he didn’t need their help, he felt like a prisoner and that his children were being mistreated. So he and Marie Antoinette decided to take a leap of faith and flee Paris to cross the Austrian border. The thing is, Louis genuinely thought that the revolutionary efforts were concentrated in Paris and that people elsewhere still liked him and would support his decision to escape. He was VERY wrong about that. They were eventually recognized and apprehended because, well. Louis’ face was literally on the money and someone eventually went “Wait a minute… don’t I know this guy from somewhere?”. The people were shocked by his betrayal and secret plotting with foreigners to escape given that he had previously seemed so cooperative. So he and his family are put in an actual prison this time, and he’s eventually tried for high treason and crimes against the state. By then he knows he’s cooked and that he’s going to be killed but he seems oddly resigned to it. I guess he just gave up.

Later on when his lawyer and former minister goes to tell him, in tears, that he has indeed, been convicted to death he just thanks him for his hard work and tells him that “We’ll meet again in a happier life!” One of the last things he said at all, on the way to the scaffold, was asking if there have been any news of the La Pérouse expedition lately. which was this version of the Captain Cook expeditions of his he had organized a few years before it all went to shit. Funny little man, he was. He was scared of cats because he got a nasty scratch on the butt from his grandfather’s cat as a child, but he dutifully took care of this very cat until the day it died after his grandfather’s passing. He liked to stealthily make his way out of windows and climb on the roofs of the palace of Versailles at night to hunt for nocturnal animals. His favorite horses were named Escargot and Desiré.

I can do this trick with some other VERY random subjects too. Someone look up “French king”, get the first picture you see out of Google Images and show it to me on this post. Don’t give me a name. Just the picture or a link to the picture. I’m going to either awe you or creep you out. No middle ground.

[an-undercover-bi]

Thinking about her <3 (her being just the general concept of decaying into dust and bones on the grounds of my local woods)

[gay-dorito-dust]

I wanna write fluff for this traumatised fandom but all that comes to my head is pain.

In another life you wouldn’t have to be forced to say goodbye to Viktor, only good nights before you both drifted off to sleep side by side, or good mornings as you greet each other with a kiss to the cheek while making breakfast.

In another life you were happy, Viktor was happy, everyone you knew and love was happy that both Piltover and Zaun were thriving. There was nothing but peace and prosperity for as far as you could see. No war, no fighting, nothing for you were all living how many could only wish would be a reality one day.

In another life you got to hold Viktor however long you wanted, his skin was still that of warm flesh and bone beneath your touch and the kisses you planted along his shoulders.

In another life Viktor was well rested, well fed and even smiled and joked more then he ever had before. His amber eyes were alive and observing everything as he talked you through how some of the inventions worked in vivid detail, all with a excited smile upon his face as his hands before more animated with his every word. You loved whenever he got like that.

In another life you got what you wanted and what you wanted was him, was Viktor as you cuddled into him while he read, his hand moving to rub your back as though it was muscle memory at this point and kissing your temple now and then before continuing his reading. He’d playfully claim that you were a distraction but of the best kind and your heart never felt fuller.

In another life you didn’t have to worry about Viktor leaving you, you didn’t have to fear a possibility of him becoming lost in his ideals for a glorious evolution and forgoing his humanity, shed his human skin for a form of cold, biting pliable metal. Lost to the hexcore of which did not exist within this other life.

However you didn’t live in this other life, did you?

You lived in a life where tensions between Zaun and Piltover was at an all time high.

You lived in a life where hextech was high in demand to be used against those who threaten people’s ways of life.

You lived in a life where you saw more death and destruction then you ever did anything else, almost as if a tranquil life was prohibited and everyone was born to suffer, Zaunites more so then those residing in Piltover, unable to mourn nor bury the dead as survival of the fittest was a way of life rather than just a motto.

You lived in a life where you had to say goodbye to Viktor, multiple times, each one being more painful and heartbreaking than the last.

You lived in a life where proclamations of love did nothing to stop him from leaving the academy as he looked at you with the eyes of a stranger.

You lived in a life where the possibility of a happy ending was few and far between. Not many were blessed to have it no matter how much good they’ve done in their lives, fate was often cruel to those least deserving of such treatment.

You lived in a life where you wished you could’ve done more for viktor as the arcane consumed him, leaving you alone with nothing but his cane.

You lived in a life where you wished the pain would end, you couldn’t take it and didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone anymore. It hurt far too much as you left with the memories Viktor left behind with you, as though that was going to heal your broken heart but did anything but made the pain worse.

You lived in a life where your dream life with Viktor was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream you’ll never reach.

You lived in a life where nothing was fair, everything was taken from you and nothing was given back in exchange for your suffering. You lost Viktor, you’d never get to live the life you wanted with him.

You lived in a life where you were never meant to.

Viktor knew this too, for he had those same dreams of a perfect reality himself, but then he remembered he was a man of science and ignored it no matter how much he wanted it to come true. He knew it wasn’t plausible.

Viktor knew he could dream, but he wished he didn’t.

[kodasea]

Til death do us part

[bumblingbabooshka]

His name is Spring and when Amandus told him that that was a season on Earth he stared at him blankly until he changed the subject [didn't know how to respond] [Patreon | Commissions]

[novelconcepts]

There really aren’t words to describe the simple queer joy that is lounging on the couch shirtless after top surgery.

[perilegs]

HELLO?!?!??!??????