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steviebunny · 3 months ago

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2. Glorified Cult Leader

Dubai

"So Daniel, do you have any questions?"

The reporter stares at Louis in near astonishment, removing his glasses to rub his aching head.

"About the woman with the face full of teeth? Yes, I have fucking questions! You had that one in disguise this whole time" Daniel motions to Armand with his glasses "Should I assume there's a demon lady pretending to dust shelves in a sexy maid uniform somewhere around here?"

Louis crosses an ankle over his knee with a slight laugh, Armand's arm loops over the back of the back of the sofa and rubs his hand. "No. Nothing like that. Patience Daniel and good things will come, let the story take you where it needs you to be."

___

Paris

The Rusalka moves gracefully through the vast library shelves, fingers gently grazing cover after cover. Heeled shoes moving after the other creating an echo off the marble floors. Her head raises, no longer lost in thought- she sniffs the air.

"You can come out, you're not nearly as sneaky as you seem to think you are."

A tapping of leather soles against the floor much like her own sounds from behind her.

The well-dressed leader she met the other evening walks out from behind a shelf, he leans against the wood shifting his weight onto one hip, placing his hand in his coat pocket with well-rehearsed grace.

Her eyes trace over him and then roll “If you’re trying to kill me I wish you luck, it’s not easy.”

“Who says I wish to end your life?”

“Your kind is territorial, I haven’t had the best experiences in the past, can you blame me for running? Not to mention your man chased me, not a very good first impression.”

“Santiago is not my man.” His stoicism falls face curling in disgust at the accusation.

“Right, you’re paired with the bookworm.” Her eyes shine and something swipes sideways, blinking slowly like an alligator.

“You’re no longer deemed a threat. Siren. But you’re perspective, we could have a place for one of your kind in the coven. So long as you behave of course.”

“Wrong.”

“Hmm?” His eyebrows perk up and his head tilts.

“Not a siren. Similar, but I don’t sing. And I don’t lure unfaithful men to the depths. I just eat the evil ones, it’s a lot less dramatic that way.”

“You get to define what evil is?”

“Yes. You, vampires, are so strange…you love each other so purely, even when you hate. It’s so obvious, but you keep screwing each other over? I can’t tell if it’s a self-preservation instinct or not. I think you’d be a lot happier if your covens were big love fests instead of the whole master-servant dynamic.”

Armand scowls, fangs dipping slightly with a cat-like hiss. “You think yourself omniscient? We need structure, solitary vampires either wither by their lonesome until they meet the flame or sow chaos in their wake. Humans always search for more, money, power, love, knowledge, more. Why hold on to this part of your humanity when you can live content? A part of something better, the coven offers such.”

The rusalka laughs and her melodious voice has a sharp screech-like tinge to it- “Content! Oh, so great coven leader!” She cries clasping her hands together, pressing them against her face. “Who surrounds himself with sycophants, Truly the best representation of a content being, yeah? You vampires want just as much as I do. You’re not built to be lonely, companionship is in your blood. So don’t preach to me about contentment you glorified cult leader.”

Armand steps closer, face inches from the rusalka towering over her, he removes his sunglasses- tucking them into his chest pocket he looks deep into her eyes and calmly with a sneer says “You’re vulnerable. It makes you weak. We are not the only coven in France and you will not be able to run forever. Unless of course, you aim to end your studies so quickly after arriving.”

“How’d you…?”

“I may not be able to read your mind but this place is flooding with your peers. It’s quite the story you’ve concocted for yourself, the best lies are rooted in some truth are the not?”

“My vulnerability is my power, just as yours could be. Screw your rules and your laws, going behind each others backs to make things end up your way. Just to end in failure. May it be a century or a millennia from now, but still failure.”

“Then let me offer you this. Join the coven. Prove to them why the laws should change.”

—

Dubai

“Is this my cue?” Daniel had been imagining this voice since it was first described to him but the reality was something else altogether. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a maid’s uniform. I know how much you like the Univision style.” The woman rounds the furniture flashing a smile at the two vampires and perching herself on the arm of the journalist's seat.

“You still smell of him.” Armand’s lip curls and Louis looks to the tempered windows for a distraction.

“I didn’t have time to swim yet either. You’re the two avoiding him. I made no such promise, I’m not involved.”

“Wait! Please tell me she isn’t taking about-”

“Lestat.” Louis interrupts as Daniel looks to the Rusalka with a look that borders on horror. “There’s an agreement in place. When she’s here she doesn’t discuss him, when she’s there she won’t discuss us.”

“It's a horrendous deal, really.”

“HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW LESTAT?!”

Louis stands and stretches his arms to his companions, each of them placing a hand in one of his. “This seems like a natural breaking point, you should rest Daniel. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Louis immediately begins to escort his partners out of the room leaving the reporter in shock.

“WHAT KIND OF HORSE-SHIT DO YOU MEAN BY NATURAL BREAKING POINT?!”

---

Thank you for reading. Sorry this isn't very long :(

#poly!reader #lestat de lioncourt #lestat x reader #sorry for bad spelling #louis de pointe du lac #louis dpdl #amc interview with the vampire #armand x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat #louis de pointe du lac x reader #louis x reader #ldpdl #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #sorry for poor spelling

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aajjks · 2 years ago

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Needy (m)

synopsis. you think he’s needy? He’ll show you just how needy he can be.

warnings. mature themes, kissing, extreme yandere behaviour, manipulation, cute koo, sexy times, sexual tension, marking, oh it’s hot, unhealthy dependance, triggering themes.

taglist: @lustfulpjm @bebejungkook @bunnysandsunflowers @livid-and-in-love @dimguin

disclaimer. This is purely fictional, viewer discretion is heavily advised. Do not romanticise this behaviour, strictly for entertainment purposes only!

“Noona.”

His voice calls out, cutting off your thoughts as you felt his hand wrap around your body, his other hand snaking around your waist,

He nuzzled his face into your neck, the cold and wet feeling of his tongue on your neck always sent shivers down your spine, the way his warm breath fanned over your pulse point, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You could never really get used to his touchy nature.

“Hi baby.” You replied, looking at the papers in your hand. “Noona…. What are you doing?” He whined,

“I’m just looking through some important documents from work.”

Jungkook hummed, rubbing his nose into your neck. “Woke up early today hmm?” You turned the page, sighing. “‘Was cold without you, noona.”

You gave the documents a double look and closed them once you were satisfied. It was cold, undoubtedly, Seoul could be ruthlessly cold in winter.

Jungkook turned your body so you could face him now.

“Noona, can you skip work today and spend more time with me? Please?” The man child pouted, his sleepy eyes looking at you with hope. You caressed his cheek, you wanted to spend time with him too,

well, you always tried your hardest to spend the majority of your free time with him, he was your responsibility after all.

But the thing with Jungkook was that he was kind of…. Needy.

He wanted your attention 24/7.

He didn’t care if you had to work, Jungkook didn’t understand the importance of earning money or having your own privacy.

“Baby I have an important meeting today, I’m sorry.” You watched his gaze turn somber, “I can’t miss it sweetheart.” You whispered in his ear, your fingers caressing his cheek.

“Why?” His eyes turned glossy as he blinked twice. Oh him and his fragile heart, you felt bad, and guilty.

“Baby… actually my boss is hosting a new years dinner party tonight too… so I can’t skip it, it is mandatory for all the senior employees to attend.”

Jungkook whimpered at the thought of being away from you for so many hours, his hands grabbed your waist again.

“N-Noona what about me?”

He stopped sniffling and stared at you with a strange look. “I-I’ll miss you noona! VERY MUCH!” He pulled you in for a hug.

You sighed, “baby you know I don’t like to leave you alone a lot too… but I don’t really have a choice?”

He didn’t reply, his eyes were now bloodshot as he cried. He pulled you in for a hug. Your heart melted immediately at his gesture,

Jungkook was finally starting to behave like himself. But you needed to warn him.

clicking your tongue while you embraced him you spoke, “I don’t want you to behave like before Jungkook I’m serious.” You patted his back.

“I’ll be back before you know it!” No use though. He didn’t stop sobbing, you were sure he whined under his breath.

Your little brat.

He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear him clearly, “jungkook.” You called out, trying to get out of his grip but the bunny man tightened his hold on your body.

Wow. He was too strong.

“Okay kookie I’m starting to get annoyed, my coffee is getting cold and don’t you want breakfast?”

“Want noona!” You pushed his shoulders [well tried to.] so he’d loosen his grip but it wasn’t working.

“So…” now there was only one way to get him to leave you.

“You don’t want the pizza with extra crust?” His heavy breathing stopped for a moment, he broke the hug and looked directly into your eyes, the glossy pupils dilated at the mention of his favourite food.

Ha, he was easy.

“Noona you’re s-so evil!” His tail wiggled and his ears perked up, his expressions were betraying his body. “But… firstly, you’ll eat the porridge I made.”

“NO NOONA YOU ARE TOO EVIL!”

You rolled your eyes as you walked over the kitchen counter, a wicked smile on your lips.

“Learned from my evil bunny.” You blew a kiss, winking.

“Okay stop drooling Jungkook.”

Jungkook watched you put on the black coat, his long hair almost falling over his eyes that were so focused on you, his eyes followed your every moment but he didn’t speak a word.

Just watched you quietly, his mouth open, his eyes turning hazy with your each moment, God, you looked so sexy.

The shade of that lipstick was perfect, it complimented your beautiful complexion so much,

your lips, Oh God, your lips.

“My noona is so pretty.” He breathed deeply, taking your attention, Jungkook’s heart fluttered when you smiled at him, he loved it so much when your eyes twinkled.

“Aww thanks Jungkook!”

He didn’t reply, too lost in your thoughts as he stalked towards you, “I really want to kiss you noona, can I?”

The room’s atmosphere shifted as he blurted that out, your hands stopped buttoning up the coat and he could tell the way your breath hitched.

“Please?” He stopped right before you, not waiting for your answer as he pushed your body towards his, your chest hitting his hard one as he inhaled your scent.

“So heavenly..” he whispered.

You were at a loss for words but didn’t stop him as he grabbed your face, bringing it closer to his.

Jungkook could feel your knees tremble as he refused to take his eyes away from your face, his lips now inches away from yours,

He was pulsing, he felt so hypnotised as his lips touched yours, his brain froze, his whole body felt like it was on fire.

He felt so hungry.

He swallowed your trembling breath as he kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever get to. Your hands grabbed his dark locks as his fingers traveled down towards your core, spreading your legs easily.

“Oh fuck!” He whimpered when you tucked at his hair.

God, he was sounding so sinful.

Jungkook could die while kissing you and he’d be so thankful, your lips were made for him.

So damn perfect.

He finally broke the kiss, his high getting intense as he kissed your neck, your heavy breathing making his legs feel like jelly.

His teeth were hot on your skin as he sucked on the spot that made your eyes roll back, he was eager to leave his marks on your neck so you couldn’t hide them even if you tried.

So everyone could know you belonged to him age him only,

“My noona. Only mine,” he growled possessively, you mewled out, unable to respond, Jungkook grabbed your hips as he settled your thighs on his waist,

“You can’t leave me, noona. I will make sure of that.”

#jungkook smut #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts smut #hybrid bts #hybrid!jungkook #hybrid jungkook #hybrid!bts #yandere smut #yandere x reader #bangtan smut #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #smut #bts yandere

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sleepymccoy · 1 year ago

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Kirk: as we know the alien species only accept petitions from people who are dating

Kirk: it's a cultural thing

Kirk: so we need a couple to go into the alien congress and speak on our behalf

Kirk: Spock, Bones, are you up for it?

Spock: I believe the doctor and I could sufficiently convince them that we are dating, yes

Bones: Spock, we are dating

Spock: just like that, very good, doctor

Bones: what's he on about? Spock, what are you on about? We're dating!

Kirk: hmm, Spock has a point

Bones: I clearly missed it when he made his damn point

Spock: we may be dating but we will have to act like it too

Bones: I act like it, thicko! Just cos you're allergic to PDA

Spock: it is out of respect to our colleagues that I do not like to-

Bones: strange kind of respect you-

Spock: I behave perfectly well, any failure in our relationship is-

Bones: you aren't going to pin shit on me, darlin', you're -

Kirk: maybe anyone else should do this

Fake dating except they're actually dating they're just so bad at it they also have to fake date

#spones #spock #mccoy

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bunnibaby-love · 3 months ago

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I don’t know if your taking requests, but if you are can I please get Step-dad Zayne and like thigh grinding with a lil daddy kink. Idk I love him 🙁

🍒 Zayne x

F!Reader 🍒

♡ nsfw + stepcest + thigh grind + daddy kink

It's past twelve o'clock yet you still can't fall asleep. Recently, you're having.....strange dreams. Maybe it wasn't so strange for a young girl like you to have dirty dreams but the man in your dreams is your mom's new husband, your step father Zayne

Not only Zayne is captivating handsome man, he's also a renowned doctor. Althought stoic, he's still charming to everybody else

You tried to ignore these strange dreams of yours but later fall on your dark fantasies. You watched porn with the male resembling him while touching yourself or using the favority toy of yours.

You got suprised when a cold hand touch your shoulder and open your eyes to look behind you "It's past your bedtime. Why are you still up?" There, Zayne loosing up his tie

"....Homework..." you averted your red cheeks from him and continue to look again at your textbook. It's getting harder to look at him with guilt but also desire

"You had whole week to do that and now you're procastinating again" he hold up a firm demeanour but still sat beside you "Let me help you with that so you could rest already"

Your eyes widen when he position himself behind you while both of you are sitting at floor in the living room. Zayne is smart and patient to taught you the lesson you're stuck. His teaching will be easier to understand if only you could ignore his groin against your soft ass.

You can barely take it anymore as you try to innocently play it off as just moving but actually grinding more to feel him. You cannot wait to finish this boring lesson so you could finally released yourself on your bedroom

Zayne suddenly gripped your waist and subtly smirk on your ear "Behave Y/N" you gripped your pen and bow your head deeper on your notebook when you realize he caught your actions

"Ah!" Zayne maneauver your body and sat you on his lap "Daddy?" you look up to him with those bambi eyes of yours

"I really like when you call me that..." His cold hand cupped your cheek "Tell me darling about the dream you we're having these past few nights?....or whatever you're doing on your room after dinner?" Your eyes widen when yoi realize he heard your gasp and moan and definitely the way you call out his name

"I'm sorry daddy...i know it's wrong...it's not my fault! my brain is just getting fuzzy..." You fiddle with your fingers while apologizing from your naughty behaviour

"I'm not mad" He chuckled and settle you on his right thigh "Tell me about what's on the little head of yours hmm? tell me and i'll let you ride my thigh"

"Are you...? Here? Really? Are you testing me? I'm really sorry just don't tell me to mom-- eak!" he grind his thigh against your clothed core

"Your mother isn't here. She's on a sudden trip and yes i am serious" He stand up while carrying you to sat on couch "I'm very tired and stressed from my work sweetheart, i would appreciate it if you could relieve my stress"

You can't take it anymore plus you're already busted anyways better just take it. You started to hump on his thigh "I..i dreamed about you touching me..."

"Where?" He fixes his glasses to look at you intently

"Everywhere...like my chest" He trace his index finger against your clothed chest and slowly unbotton your pajama top while you're holding you're breath

He began to slowly plant kisses and nip on your chest, slowly starting to move lower and lower down your body. His hand on your back began to slowly move down to your waist again, lightly caressing the skin where it touched.

"Continue baby..." he assist your waist for a bit so you could grind more while he leaves kisses from your collarbone to your bud "You're so pretty and yet so naughty"

"Daddy im coming. .ah.....ah...ahh..." you didn't wait for his approval as you released all over his slacks. "M'sorry..." you pout and hide your face on his neck

You jolted up when his cold finger gaze on your clit "She wants more doesn't she? Well darling we have the whole night to ourself"

Althought embrassed still you smile on his shoulder and heared his belt unbuckle

#zayne smut #zayne #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deep space #lads zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x mc

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m00nymonster · 3 months ago

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It All Sounded Interesting

Written for Tideland's On the Loose prompt!

"I'll give you a tour of the station, Three, and if you want we can go to the planet later," Dr. Ratthi said, clearly excited. This was my first time on Preservation Station, and I wanted to make a good impression.

"Yes, Dr. Ratthi," I said. 1.0 told me I didn't have to answer humans if I didn't want to anymore, but old habits die hard. Dr. Ratthi gave me a sad half smile.

"Ratthi is fine, Three."

"Yes, Ratthi."

It felt strange to address a human so informally. A lot of things were strange now that I was rogue. Freedom in general was strange.

"I--oh. Just a minute." Dr. Ratthi got a vague look on his face, and turned away, subvocalizing as he did so. I looked around. 1.0 had told me that humans here didn't know what SecUnits looked like, so they would think I was an augmented human, but 1.0 had also altered its configuration. Perihelion had offered a similar treatment, and while I had declined a physical alteration (not being SecUnit standard bothered me and I didn't know why) I had altered my code to grow my hair out. Still, it was strange to look at the humans through a fringe of hair.

So many things were strange, now.

I looked around, and realized Dr. Ratthi had walked away, probably assuming I was following along behind. A transport docked and a flood of humans deboarded, chattering amongst themselves, separating me further. I could ping Dr. Ratthi, ask him where he was. I could. If I wanted to.

Decisions were hard, so I was proud of myself when I decided not to follow him and instead let the crowd drift me away.

The main discourse was beautifully decorated, with sculptural shapes hanging from the ceiling and both holo and real plants scattered along the pathways, as well as many comfortable looking chairs and benches. There were several storefronts, but the one that drew me had a large display of media, including almost an entire wall of nonfiction books. 1.0 found my fascination with nonfiction puzzling--it preferred fiction--but it wasn't here.

A human walked up to me.

"We have digital and paper books," he said, his smile making little wrinkles around his eyes. I was confused.

"Paper?"

"Yes! We sell all genres. Are you a history fan?"

I wasn't sure how to answer this, but as I said, old habits die hard.

"I'm not sure."

"Hmm. Well, I have several interesting books if you want to find out! The most popular here of course is the story of Preservation, but I have other polities as well as the Corporate Rim."

It all sounded interesting.

"All of it, please," I said.

"All of it?"

At his expression I hesitated. This seemed like an unusual request. 1.0 had told me to not behave unusually.

"Just Preservation," I amended. The man beamed.

"No, no, always happy to encourage a fellow history enthusiast! Which would you like first?"

Dr. Ratthi found me an hour later, browsing the last of the nonfiction selection. I had already downloaded all the history books the man in the shop had recommended, and now was looking at biographies.

"There you are!" he said, out of breath. "I was looking everywhere for you!"

"Ah, is this your friend? I must say, this young person is a voracious reader! Quite commendable!"

Ar Dr. Ratthi's glance I looked down.

"1.0 gave me a hard currency card," I said meekly. It would not have understood why I actually paid for the books instead of just downloading them, but according to it I also didn't have to justify my decisions to anyone anymore.

Dr. Ratthi smiled. "If you want more I'll cover it," he said. The shopkeeper smiled widely.

Later, when I'd left with as much as Dr. Ratthi and my hard currency card could afford, Dr. Ratthi laughed.

"I'll say this, SecUnits certainly aren't predictable. Set you loose and you buy half the bookstore!"

I wasn't sure what to say to this, so I didn't. It was nice.

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #tmbd #murderbot fanfic #murderbot fanfiction #murderbot three #three #secunit 3 #ratthi #murderbot drabbles

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whumpy-wyrms · 5 months ago

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The Last Lab Rat #19: Eye Spy…

previous | masterlist | next

content: lab whump, captivity, experimentation, nonsexual nudity, drugging, mind control, panic attack, sensory deprivation, fear of drowning, near death experience, sensory overload, angst, suicidal ideation, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

heed the warnings on this one folks… :)

—

Despite things happening to Dew that he was never thought possible, nothing was making being here a better experience. His body and mind were changing without his control, he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and despite trying so hard not to, he missed his old life. But the scientist was more giddy than ever, seemingly too enraptured with the experiments to notice Dew’s obvious sinking despair.

That was all it was, now. The same routine. Torturous experiments that left him in pain, dulling and mind-numbing tests, the scientist’s voice describing it all in his tape recorders, and the small moments of peace and comfort he got inbetween it all.

Dew wondered what would happen next. What the next horrible modification to his body would be, how much it would change him, how much of himself would be left when it was over. He wondered how his clone was doing, if his friends even suspected anything. He wondered how long this would go on for, how long he could last, how long he even wanted to last.

The past couple of days, Anton had been working in the lab alone, on something that was unknown to Dew. He’d brought out a giant rectangular tank of some sort, and had been messing around with the strange liquid inside. He refused to elaborate on it, and Dew had no choice but to ignore it.

So he was stuck in his small room, unable to really do anything besides draw, but even that grew tiring. Sometimes Sasha would show up, but they’d barely talk to each other, neither of them really having anything interesting to say.

His eyes felt mostly back to normal by now, and he was content without wearing a blindfold all the time. His third eye felt natural to him, and he almost forgot about it if not for him accidentally zoning out and seeing through objects sometimes.

The scientist had let up on him too, and Dew was allowed to do things on his own again. He was behaving, after all, and Anton wanted to respect his privacy and space as much as he coul, as if Dew was still a person.

He was still a person. Sometimes it was hard to believe that anymore.

“Dew,” Anton said, though he sounded so, so far away. “Wake up.”

“Huh?” Dew sat up and stretched, wings flapping lightly in contentment. Just another morning.

“Here’s your food.”

“Thanks.”

“You experiencing any more changes with your eyes?” Anton asked as Dew ate his breakfast. The scientist was wearing his weird goggles again, today.

“Nope. Just darkness.” He stared off into space, watching Anton write that down in his clipboard. Then he saw the scientist’s heartbeat through his chest. He blinked, and focused on the blindfold. Darkness.

“Hmm, okay. We have a pretty important experiment today. I’m excited.”

“Aren’t they all important?”

“Well, yes, but this one is…” The scientist waved his hands excitedly. “It will change everything, if all goes right.”

“They all change everything…” Dew mumbled, looking to the ground.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Anyway, you can take off your blindfold, you won’t be needing it. I’ll turn the lights out when we get there. Oh, and don’t bother putting on the hospital gown. Unfortunately, clothes will just get in the way of this one.”

“Oh… alright.” So it would be something different this time, after all.

They walked into the lab, and Dew could see the giant glass tank that Anton had been working on for the past few days up close. Getting a better look, he noticed it was filled with nothing but a pitch black liquid. He wouldn’t have thought it was glass at first, but the edges of it were thick and clear, so it had to be. The liquid inside was so dark and opaque, and he couldn’t even see through it if he tried, as focusing all his concentration on it just made his head hurt. This was the first time he’d been completely unable to see through something with his new eyes.

There was a ladder leaning against the tank, and the top of it looked like it could be opened and closed. The tank itself was smaller than the giant glass tube filled with green liquid on the other side of the lab, the one that had always been there but to Dew’s understanding, went unused. This one was just a few feet taller than him, and wide enough to hold his arms straight out in all directions, but not much else. The thought of being stuck in there filled him with dread.

He thought it surely had to do with whatever the scientist was going to do to him today. But he’d stopped spying on Anton’s notes and plans after a while, not caring about what happened to him anymore as the tests on his eyes grew more and more mundane and repetitive. This one though, seemed different. Perhaps he should’ve snuck a peak.

“Ah, yes,” Anton began, turning to Dew with that familiar unhinged, giddy expression. “You’re probably wondering what this is, right?” He gestured to the giant tank while casually leaning a hand against it.

Dew faked a smile. “Yeah.” He found the scientist to be in a better mood when he pretended to care about what he was saying, when he pretended to be happy to be there.

“Of course you do,” Anton said theatrically. “This tank here can hold just about anything in it, it’s very strong, impossible to break through. It can’t be moved from this spot, but it can be lowered into the floor, where it’s usually stored and out of the way. But you don’t have to worry about that, I have another way of making whoever’s inside be enclosed in complete darkness.”

“W-wait, inside?”

“Yes! For this experiment, you’ll be going inside the tank. The stuff it’s filled with is what I’ve been working on. When you go inside of it, it will— well, it’d be more fun as a surprise I think. But it’s breathable. You won’t drown in it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s perfectly safe.”

Well, shit. “W-what are you gonna do to me?” Dew asked miserably.

Anton adjusted the goggles on his face, making them glow a bright green. He smiled. “You’ll find out soon.”

The entire lab faded to complete darkness, but Dew’s eyes adjusted quickly. The scientist had his night vision goggles on, and was writing something down in his clipboard. Dew waited in agonizing silence until Anton snapped on some black rubber gloves and started preparing a syringe.

“Don’t worry, Dewey. Just two injections. They’ll be over quickly.” The first syringe was huge, almost the biggest one he’d used on him yet. It was filled with a glowing orange liquid, fizzy with bubbles. Anton flicked it hard a few times, and brought it towards him.

Dew was about to ask if he could wear his headphones during this, distract himself with loud music blasting through his ears, but Anton was quick to inject the syringe into Dew’s neck before he got a word out. Pure agony erupted in his veins, just for a moment, but then it was over.

Dew didn’t even have time to process what had happened before Anton was injecting something else into his arm, but a far more familiar and just a little less painful substance than the first. By now, Dew recognised it as something that’d probably make him feel weak and sleepy, a sedative of some sort.

“All done,” Anton said, putting the needles away and walking back to Dew. “Now, we have to wait a little bit for the stuff to set in. In the meantime, you can, uh, take off your shirt and pants. You won’t be needing them.”

“O-oh. Okay.” Dew did as he was asked, and Anton tossed his clothes to the side. “Now what?”

“We wait. Tell me if you start to feel anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Dew said. And they waited. Anton spun in his chair with a smile on his face while Dew stood there awkwardly in the dark, cold and exposed, waiting in agonizing anticipation for something to happen. It was almost numbing, thinking about it, wondering what was going to happen.

A few moments passed, and Dew started to feel strange. His face scrunched up in confusion, then a worried realization.

“H-hey um, Anton?” Dew whimpered, scratching at his arms. “I don’t… I don’t f-feel anything.”

“Good,” Anton mused. “You’re not supposed to feel anything.” He took Dew’s wrist and led him to the ladder.

“W-what?”

“It’ll be okay, just trust me. Now, climb into the tank, Dew.”

Dew stepped towards the ladder, taking apprehensive glances back at the scientist. He put a hand on it, but felt nothing against his palm. “I-I’m scared.”

“Just relax. Climb up the ladder.” Dew felt his body move automatically, the scientist in control of his every action. He watched his hands gripping the ladder and his legs climbing up it, but felt nothing. “Good, that’s it.”

The entire top of the tank was covered by a thick metal lid, with a latch on one side. Dew crawled on top of it, and sat opposite from the ladder. Now that he was free from Anton’s grasp, he realized he was losing more and more feeling in his body. “I can’t- I can’t breathe—”

“You can, you probably just don’t feel it. That’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Dew.” The scientist climbed up the ladder after him, and Dew sat in place. Anton unlocked the latch, and slid the top half open. Dew could now see the inside clearly, the strange dark liquid only a few inches away from him. He knew where this was going. And he was unrestrained, he could still jump down or fly away from this. But of course, he couldn’t feel his wings either.

While Dew was staring into the darkness of the tank, he hadn’t noticed that Anton started to attach some wires to his skin, long, dangly things that attached to the tank and led to the machines and screens by his desk. Once he was all hooked up to whatever that was, the scientist placed his hands firmly on Dew’s sides, making his hair stand on end. “I’m going to lower you down now, alright? Stay nice and still for me, Dew. Everything will be fine.”

Dew tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he couldn’t seem to muster up the strength. “N-no, please, I don’t wanna do this,” He whimpered.

“It’s okay. This won’t hurt you.” Dew curled into himself as Anton lifted him up, and lowered him down.

Dew expected it to be cold, or warm, or to feel like something, but it felt like absolutely nothing. Half of his body was submerged, but he wouldn’t have even known that if he weren’t looking right at it. His body disappeared under the liquid completely, and the thought of his head being submerged made him want to cry. He grabbed onto Anton’s arms, silently begging him to stop or slow his descent. He tried to kick out, but he couldn’t feel or see if his legs were moving or not, or if they even could. He couldn’t touch the bottom, couldn’t kick his legs to swim, couldn’t keep his head above the surface if he were to be dropped inside.

“Anton, p-please. I- I don’t feel anything. I can’t- I-I can’t even feel my own heartbeat! That’s gotta be bad, right?” Dew let go of Anton’s arms and grabbed the ledge of the tank, scared that the scientist would let go and he’d have nothing to grab on to. “I-I feel like I’m gonna die— I don’t w-wanna die!”

The scientist let go and took a few steps down the ladder, reaching eye level with his test subject. He extended his hand towards Dew to ruffle his hair like he had done so many times before. He laughed maniacally. “Dew, if it was gonna kill you, it would have by now. I would never let anything bad happen to you. You’re completely safe.”

“P-please!” Dew held on for dear life. He couldn’t go under. He couldn’t. “I d-don’t wanna do th-this!”

“Shhh…” Anton said. And despite it all, he still seemed to have a hold on Dew’s brain, forcing him to relax deeper into himself. “Any minute now, you’ll start to get weaker. I recommend getting yourself comfortable in there before you succumb to the drugs.”

“And- and if I don’t?”

“You won’t be strong enough to keep holding yourself up like this. It’d be less distressing for you to go under on your own will. But I suppose it doesn’t really matter; you’ll go down either way.”

“But I…I can’t…”

His words were getting awfully sluggish, and it was becoming increasingly harder to hold on and keep himself upright.

“N-no…”

His eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, and it was taking a great deal of concentration to try and keep his one sense he had left.

“You’ll be okay, Dew. I promise.”

He looked up at Anton with wide, horrified eyes, as the scientist gently pried his fingers off of the ledge, and let go of his hands. Now that he was no longer holding onto anything, and had no feeling in his limbs, he began to sink deeper into the liquid. The last thing he saw before his head was submerged in that pitch dark fluid, was the scientist smiling down at him, the glow of his bright green goggles, and his hand slowly moving the lid closed.

Then, darkness. Complete and absolute darkness. Dew was fully submerged.

He couldn’t feel a thing. Not even the heavy beat of his own heart. He opened his mouth to scream but didn’t hear or feel a single sound come out. He tried to flail his arms, but he had no perception of moving anything at all. His vision was filled with a dark abyss of nothingness, and he definitely couldn’t taste the bile rising in his throat.

He tried desperately to bang on the glass, but with everything being pitch black and his sense of touch gone, it was impossible to know what he was actually doing with his body. He couldn’t tell whether this fluid affected his ability to see through the dark and objects, or whether his sense of sight was gone just like all his other senses.

Dew felt nothing. He felt as if he didn’t even have a body. If he was moving, if someone was talking to him, if he was even breathing— under this strange liquid— he wouldn't know. All he had was his mind, and his terrified racing thoughts to accompany him in this hellish limbo.

Dew felt like he was nothing but a brain in a jar. He felt like he was floating through space with no concept of human existence. No, he felt like he didn’t exist at all.

Wait.

Was he dead?

Is this what death was?

Dew never really thought about what happens when you die. He hoped there was a better place, and that it would be peaceful, but it didn’t matter in the end, because everyone died.

The concept of literally ceasing to exist always filled Dew with a strange feeling he couldn't describe. It was incomprehensible, but he wasn’t against the idea.

But this wasn’t that. Sure, he was floating in nothing but a black abyss, but he still existed. He could still think, and feel emotions, and wonder, and want so, so badly to know what was happening to him.

His life flashed before his eyes. His childhood with his family, his friends, his pets, his hobbies and his passions and hopes and dreams. He thought about happy days, sad days, sleepovers, being alone, camping trips, anxiety, coming out, failing, music, hurt feelings, school, loss, video games, grief, art, regret. He thought about everything Anton had given him, and everything he had taken away. He thought about the lab, his tomb.

Was this really all his short and pathetic life was for? To live, just to die? Just to die here, alone, by the hands of his tormentor during another horrible experiment on him? He never got to say goodbye to his friends or his pets or his parents. He never got to say goodbye.

It felt like an eternity, floating there, wherever he was, or wasn’t anymore.

Time passed on infinitely. He felt himself fading away.

Just as fast as this whole thing started, it ended. Dew opened his eyes— or maybe they were always open— and all five of his senses came back in a heavy, overwhelming wave.

No. He thought. He didn’t want to feel. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be free.

“...ey? Dewey? Can you hear me? Wake up, Dew. Please wake up.”

Dew’s hands immediately flew up to cover his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a pained yelp.

He was out of that horrible tank, laying next to it on the hard and cold floor, and the scientist was looming over him.

And he could feel everything again.

His heartbeat pounded deep and heavy in his chest and echoed through his ears. His eyes were wide and everything was far too bright and intense but closing his eyes meant he’d be back in that dark abyss, and he- he couldn’t go back there again. He felt his wings and their primal, yearning desire to fly, and he flapped them rapidly, feathers slapping against the floor beneath him. It was all too much.

“Dew, Dew calm down.” Anton’s voice was frantic. “You’re okay. I-I fucked it up, but you’re okay. We’re done now, this- this obviously has much more work to be done to it.”

“You said you wouldn’t kill me!” Dew sobbed.

“Hey. Dew, listen to my voice. You’re okay, you’re— look at me,” Anton dimmed the lights in the lab and waited for Dew’s eyes to focus on him— all three of them. “I-I didn’t kill you. Not at all. You- you were just unconscious. You didn’t die, and you’re still alive. You’re alive.” The scientist was stumbling over his words. Dew had never seen him like this before.

“Get the fuck away from me! Let me go! Let me out of here!”

“Okay, okay. Please calm down.” Dew saw the sight of a syringe and began to sob harder, he was hysterical. Anton quickly injected him, though it was hard when he didn’t stop moving. Dew’s struggles started to die down and after a while, he slumped against the floor and stared teary eyed at Anton.

The scientist just kneeled there, at his side, staring at him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Dew slurred. “What the fuck- what the f…”

“Shhh, sh sh sh.” Anton said, and started messily carding a hand through his hair. “Relax, Dew. Calm down. You’re okay.”

“G-go to hell.”

“Shh. Let’s- let’s get you out of here.” Anton picked him up, holding onto him tighter than ever, and carried him to the couch by the kitchen. He laid him down and rested the side of his head to his chest, still clinging to him. Dew laid his head on the arm rest, and used the last of his strength to swat at the scientist with his wings.

Anton curled a hand through Dew’s hair, and wrapped his other hand around his torso. “Dew- Stop that, I’m just trying to make sure—”

“That I’m alive?”

“Yes.” Anton breathed heavily, closing his eyes and listening to Dew’s heart.

“How- how long?” Dew said quietly.

“What?”

“How long did you k-keep me in there?”

“Just, just a few hours, why?”

Tears fell from Dew’s cheeks. “It felt like forever. Like- an eternity. It felt like I was dead.”

Anton just held him tighter.

“I-I need to check your vitals,” Anton said suddenly, but it took him a while to finally move from that spot.

Dew laid there limply as Anton examined him. Sometimes he’d swat at him with his wings. Strange shadows kept consuming his vision and he tried to swat them away too. An icy chill went down Dew’s body as Anton put a stethoscope over his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. It was all too much. It was all too much.

“Just a- just a bit elevated, but I supposed, that's to be expected.”

“A-Anton?” Dew squeaked.

“Yes?” The scientist turned all his attention to him, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“P-please don’t d-do that to me ag-again. Please.”

“No, yeah, I-I won’t. I won’t. Never again. I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”

That was all Dew needed to hear when he broke down, grasping at the scientist’s sweater and sobbing into his chest. Anton hugged him back tightly, both of them clinging to one another as if their lives depended on it.

“Just let it out, buddy,” Anton said, rubbing Dew’s back and carding a hand through his hair. “That’s right. It’s okay, Dew. Shhh.”

They were like that for a while, neither of them knowing how long. Gradually, they both started to relax, heavy and rapid breathing turning calm and quiet.

Eventually, Dew fell asleep, and after a while of laying with him, Anton stood up. Running a trembling hand through his own disheveled hair, he went to clean up the mess he’d made. He stared at the scattered papers, spilled liquid, dropped pens and broken tape recorders that were littered around his desk, and grabbed a device. He pressed a button, and watched the giant glass tank lower back into the floor.

What a failure. A failure. But he could hardly think about that now. It’d been hours, it was well into the night; what they both needed was sleep. Tomorrow would be better.

After cleaning up the lab, Anton stood up, straightened his lab coat, and walked towards the couch. Dew was sleeping, body exhausted from the day’s events, but he was perfectly okay. He was breathing steady, blood pressure stable, brain active, healthy. Everything turned out okay. This experiment just needed some improvements, was all. They’d try again. …Or not, that was always okay too. Anton had more plans, better plans, than this stupid, reckless idea.

He picked his test subject up and carried him to his room. Anton lingered in his doorway for a little longer than usual, before saying goodnight, and heading out the door.

. . .

Dew woke up later that night. Everything was quiet, and dark, and cold, just like it had always been. He was lying on his back, blinking up at the ceiling, not able to muster up the energy to roll over and wrap his wings around himself and curl up into a ball and cry like he usually did. He just stared, alone and sad. He was glad he could at least see through the darkness, this time.

Dew moved his arms above his head, under his pillow. He felt the cool, sharp metal of his knife.

He could have used it. But he left it sitting abandoned in his pillowcase, day after day. It wouldn’t have been hard for the scientist to find it, or for Dew to get caught trying to stab him. But neither of them did. It existed, unused, as nothing more than something just to have hidden from the scientist.

Dew took out the knife. It stood out in this darkness, the shine glimmering off of his eyes as he turned it around in his hand. He wasn’t holding onto it very tight, he noticed. He was holding it in front of his face, laying down, staring up at the ceiling. If he dropped it, it would land on him. He’d have a scar on his face he wouldn’t be able to explain. Anton would take the knife away in the morning. Dew tightened his grip.

He closed his eyes. Nothing would get better here. Nothing. He was being good, he was doing everything Anton asked of him. He accepted his life here. He would never leave. This was it. This was it. All the pain and experimentation he had to endure every single day would be his life forever. Dew thought things might’ve gotten better if he just complied, but things got worse, he just fell deeper and deeper into his pit of despair. He’d never leave this place, he’d never see his friends again, and he’d never stop being used as a lab rat.

Dew sobbed quietly, squeezing the handle of the knife until his hand started to tremble. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed the pain to stop.

But he— he couldn’t! Dew had never felt this way before! He didn’t want to die! He didn't!

But he thought… maybe… he’d get to finally escape this hell for good, and see his parents again.

His ears rang, which made it hard to tell if the humming above him was real or not.

No, there was absolutely somebody humming nearby. It was coming from the ceiling— in a corner by the door. Dew furrowed his brows and tried to listen deeper. It was a tune he recognised, but one he hadn’t heard in a long time. The voice sounded smooth and peaceful, and yet shaky and quiet, almost impossible to hear. But it sounded so real. It sounded nice. He must be hallucinating.

Dew thought that if he opened his eyes, he’d be all alone, and the pleasant, comforting sound would stop. But if he didn’t, he’d never know where that sound was coming from. What did he have to lose? Dew opened his eyes.

His heart all but stopped.

Up in the corner of his room was a person. A whole person, just… floating there, curled up in a ball while their dangly locks of hair floated all around them. Their skin was dark, and they wore a baggy yellow sweater, but it almost looked desaturated. In fact, their whole body looked like it was blending into the darkness, blurry and hard to focus on, but so very visible to him. They were humming to themself, quietly, rocking back and forth in the air as if they were floating in space, or in the middle of the ocean. Their eyes were squeezed shut— but it was hard to tell because their hair completely covered one of them— and they didn’t seem to notice that Dew was staring.

He had no idea what to do. He must be hallucinating. He couldn’t trust his mind anymore— or his eyes; they were all fucked up, changed beyond recognition. He could see through darkness and walls and objects, of course his brain would trick him into seeing things that weren’t there. Or even… see through into…

No. No. That wasn’t possible. This wasn’t real. Dew was being silly, and stupid. He should just put the knife down and go to sleep.

But he didn’t want to.

“Hey,” Dew said, sitting upright and pulling the blanket to his chest. He got no response. “H-Hey.” The person opened their one visible eye and looked at him with a blank, but pained expression.

“Wh-who are you?” Dew asked.

A beat. Their eye went unnaturally wide for a fraction of a moment. “You can… You can see me…?” They asked, and their voice sounded soft, yet pained, echoey, hollow, like floating in a cave deep underground, crystal clear water dripping down from the stalactites into a shallow pool, letting out a drop amidst the silence. When they spoke, it felt as if they were all around the room and yet nowhere all at once, it felt as if they were touching Dew’s mind and yet far, far away.

Dew brought his knees to his chest. “Y-yeah. Who are you?” He asked again, voice wavering. “What’s going on?”

They blinked, and it felt like their eye was piercing into his soul. A wave of hazy emotions flowed through Dew, a sense of longing and comfort and relief and horror and suffering and sadness all at once. It felt like an ache of dread deep in his chest that didn’t seem to ever go away. He felt deep underwater, drowning in the energy that emitted off the person in his room. Dew didn’t know how long the two of them stared at each other for; time seemed to have stopped completely. He felt like the two of them were the center of the universe, deep in an endless void, alone. And yet, it felt so comforting— and horrifying— when they finally spoke again.

“I’m Max…” The ghost said. “The last lab rat.”

—

(max’s pronouns are they/them)

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slaymitchabernathy · 3 months ago

Text

A Sweet Promise

Coriolanus can't believe that he kept this from himself for so long.

The sight of Soarynn on his bed naked is a heavenly sight.

She looks gorgeous with her blonde hair spilled out around her head like a golden halo like an angel he's about to drag down to hell with him and take away all her purity.

The poor thing is shaking but there's a good reason for that considering she's currently tied up and blindfolded.

He wants this to be an immersive experience for her. It's not every day that you lose your virginity.

"Look at you," he murmurs, crawling on top of her, "so perfect for me hmm?" Soarynn whimpers, clenching her thighs tighter as if that'll help her out of this predicament. His fingers graze over the lacey bralette he had her wear tonight, white to symbolize her purity, the purity he'll rip away soon enough.

"Coriolanus I...I want to touch you," she whines, bucking her hips. He's quick to hold her down with his hand, pressing hard against her soft, warm skin, "Be patient darling, I'm going to enjoy taking what's rightfully mine."

His fingers slip under the waistband of her panties and he hears her breath hitch in her throat, "I wonder how wet you are," he says, his other hand grabbing her breast, kneading it with his hand and earning him a moan. Soarynn arches into his touch and he chuckles, "Naughty girl, I'll have to teach you how to behave, to be good for me."

He's going to teach her a lot of things. How to suck his cock, take his cock like she should, what to wear when he fucks her. He's so generous towards his little wife.

"I've been good," she insists, her tone whiny.

She has been good.

If he knew that all it would take was a few promises to get her to start acting like a proper First Lady then he would've done all of this months ago. While Coriolanus fed on her and her innocence, her vulnerability, and naivety, she fed off of his promises to give her whatever she wanted.

He was glad he married someone so young, someone who wanted childish things like horses and rooms to paint in compared to someone who might demand designer handbags and priceless jewelry. Which he did buy for her, but Soarynn didn't quite care for the fancy clothes and shoes, not as much as she cared for her horses and paint colors.

Whatever kept her busy.

He's been busy too, busy enough to where he's only had enough time to share a few heated kisses with Soarynn in between meetings and dinners, nothing more. But now he has all the time in the world.

Coriolanus drags his fingers along her folds, groaning at how wet she is, "Fuck, my little slut is already so eager hmm? Can't wait to have me inside of you?" Coriolanus can't wait to watch her tight little cunt struggle to take all of him in, to have her squirming around with nowhere to go.

Soarynn gasps when his fingers graze her clit, her hips bucking up at the strange sensation. "Oh," she says, her mouth hanging open. Coriolanus takes that as an opportunity to slip two fingers into her mouth, prying it open like a box. Soarynn is smarter than she looks and complies with his silent demand, opening her small mouth as wide as it'll go and it does nothing to help his growing problem in his boxers.

Coriolanus spits into her mouth, watching her swallow without complaint, "My dirty little girl," he murmurs, "should've known that I was getting a District whore for a wife when I got you. You can take the whore out of the District but you sure as hell can't take the District out of the whore, isn't that right Soarynn?"

Before she can even respond he shoves his fingers deeper into her mouth, watching her gag around them. His other hand thumbs at her clit, driving her crazy with nothing to do but lie there and take it.

"Please," she moans, garbled and needy, trying to grind against his hand.

Coriolanus sighs, sitting back to admire her for a moment. "What is it you want Soarynn?"

This is a test and he hopes for her sake that she passes.

Soarynn whines, rolling around on the bed for a moment, her hands trying to get loose but failing once again. She's breathless and frustrated. Just how he likes her.

"I...I want you Coriolanus," she gasps, "want to make you happy."

Coriolanus smiles, "That's my good girl. Your pleasure will always come second to mine darling, you'll do well to learn that." He doesn't really give a flying fuck if Soarynn ever reaches an orgasm, but he sure will, every single time without fail.

Soarynn's cunt is a much better alternative than his hand.

His hands slide down her panties, revealing her perfect little cunt. Glistening with how fucking wet she is already.

Coriolanus spreads her thighs out as far as they'll go, earning him a pained gasp from Soarynn but he's so far beyond caring at this point. He's played nice, now it's time to play rough.

He uses one hand to pull down his boxers, his hardened cock springing out, red at the tip, ready to fuck her until she can't talk anymore. "Such a tight little cunt," he mutters, leaning back over her so that the tip of his cock is pressed against her entrance. Soarynn whines at the feeling, wiggling her hips side to side, "Is it...is it going to hurt?" She asks, her lips slightly parted. He knows it's killing her to be blindfolded, to not see what's happening.

He likes it when she's helpless.

Coriolanus hums, holding her hip down with one hand while slowly pushing into her with the other, "That's the best part darling."

She's a tight fit to put things lightly. Coriolanus moans at how warm she is, how tight and wet. Absolutely perfect for a man like him who deserves a sweet little cunt like Soarynn's.

Soarynn cries out, trying to get away but he holds her down, keeping her stuck on his cock while he fully pushes in until he feels his tip pushing against her sweet spot.

"It hurts," she cries, writhing on the sheets, "I can't. Please, I can't."

Coriolanus leans down to press a kiss to her lips, his teeth tugging at her bottom lip until he tastes blood, "You're going to take what I give you every single time. Do you understand Soarynn?"

He can tell she's crying from how scattered her breathing is but he could care less now that he's finally inside of her. From the second he married her, he knew what he was after. And now he has it.

Coriolanus starts a hard and punishing pace, pulling all the way out before slamming back into her, listening to all the sounds she makes. He knows it won't be long before the pleasure takes over and she becomes a mindless little fuckdoll but until then he can at least enjoy himself. Once she gets addicted he'll never hear the end of it.

"Feels so fucking good," he grunts out, watching her cunt take him over and over again, just like she should.

"Mmm," she moans, her back arching off of the bed. Looks like she's finally feeling better. He grins down at her, watching her face contort in pleasure. Part of him wants to rip the blindfold off but he prefers her to be as helpless as possible. At his mercy.

"You like it?" He teases, changing his fast pace to a deeper and slower one, making her feel every fucking inch of his cock. Her cunt is going to be molded to it by the time he's done with her.

Soarynn's hands flail around, but he made sure she couldn't break out of her restraints, "Please," she begs, her hips starting to meet his with every thrust, "please."

Coriolanus presses one hand on her lower abdomen, knowing how it'll scramble her sweet little brain and it does. Soarynn moans again, this time louder and more desperate, "Fuck."

Coriolanus shoves two fingers into her mouth again, "Watch your language angel, can't have my little wife swearing in front of the wrong people." Soarynn can only whimper in reply, sucking on his fingers while he nears his orgasm.

He can't wait to finish inside of her. In fact, he's only going to finish inside of her, in her cunt more specifically.

"Taking me so good," he praises, going a bit faster, "just like you should."

Soarynn's walls start to tighten around his length, a telltale sign that she's nearing her own orgasm as well which isn't really his problem but he'll allow it this time. After all, it's the first orgasm she'll ever have.

And that seems to dawn on Soarynn too because she starts babbling incoherent nonsense around his fingers, clearly confused and scared at what her body is doing right now. Coriolanus leans down until his lips are right next to her ear, "Give it to me Soarynn, be my good little slut and cum for me. It's all you were made for darling, to pleasure me and make me happy."

He slides his hand down from her lower abdomen to her clit, rubbing it with his thumb and she just unravels.

Soarynn's body spasms while she has her first orgasm and Coriolanus finally takes the blindfold off, watching as her eyes roll back and her jaw goes slack around his fingers.

Completely fucked out and dumb with it.

Coriolanus thrusts inside of her a few more times before finishing as well, swearing under his breath at how good it feels to finish inside of her cunt.

Soarynn is panting, her eyes shut and her body limp.

Too bad this is only the first round.

꧁ ꧂

"We need to focus on hitting the Districts back twice as hard..."

The voice of Quintus Heavensbee drowns out in his mind while looking out the window of his study. Coriolanus should be working, should be focusing on issues that concern the stability of his country but instead, he's watching his wife run around outside.

She's playing with Petunia, the two of them chasing one another around. Petunia keeps hiding in different bushes of flowers, jumping out to bat at Soarynn's hand while she giggles.

Coriolanus feels the ghost of a smile tugging on his lips but he pushes it away.

"Coriolanus people are mad."

He turns back to look at Quintus, raising his eyebrows, "The District people or our people?" He asks, needing some clarification.

Quintus sighs and rubs his temples, he's an older man, more experienced, and always stressed out. He was the one who pushed for this marriage, desperate for Coriolanus to be seen as a family man.

"Our people, they've taken to the streets, there's even talk of trying to break into the Mansion," he gestures to the room around them, "all because of the Districts not being able to supply enough imports."

Coriolanus frowns, his fingers drumming against the hardwood of his desk, "What about our backup reserves? We have stockpiles from after the war." Quintus shakes his head, dismissing the idea, "No. We can't touch those reserves unless we're in a time of active war, which we might be soon enough if we don't get these people under control."

Before Coriolanus can provide another suggestion, there's a loud banging on the doors to his study. "Mr. President? Mr. President, it's an emergency, sir!"

He nods at Quintus to go open the doors, revealing a frantic-looking Peacekeeper, "What's this emergency you're referring to?" Quintus asks, looking out into the hallway for an immediate threat.

"People are surrounding the Mansion," the Peacekeeper tells them, "they're rioters, they've been trying to climb the front gates but now they're trying to get in through the back."

Coriolanus feels his heart start beating faster, "My wife is out there. Get her inside now!"

It's a mad dash through the hallways, all three men running to the veranda where several other staff members have already gathered. He spots Eudora who's watching from the top of the steps, shaking her head, "Just dreadful," she mutters before looking over her shoulder to see Coriolanus running towards her, "Coriolanus? What's wrong? What's happened?"

He's nearly out of breath but manages to get out the most important information, "Get...Soarynn."

He spots her at the very edge of the gardens, right by the fence. Right by a group of Capitol rioters grabbing at the fence, yelling all sorts of things.

"SOARYNN!" He yells, running down the steps, a whole flotilla of Peacekeepers behind him now, "SOARYNN COME HERE NOW!"

Out of all the times he's needed her to listen to him, now is the only time that truly matters.

Soarynn turns to look at him, scared out of her mind no doubt. He beckons her over, "Now Soarynn!"

She glances back over at the rioters who are now attempting to scale the fence and she must figure her chances are better with him than with them because she starts to make her way over to him. But not before he watches Petunia, clearly not as smart as Soarynn claims, run right over to the fence.

Soarynn sees it too and he can see how conflicted she is.

Listen to her husband or get her cat.

She chooses the cat like the fucking childish idiot she is.

She runs after Petunia and Coriolanus keeps running after her, watching in horror when one of the rioters goes to grab at Petunia.

All hell breaks lose after that.

Peacekeepers are yelling, Soarynn is screaming and all he can do is watch.

Soarynn is in tears as two Peacekeepers try to pull her away from the fence, away from the psychotic people trying to hurt her and more importantly, him.

But she is not going anywhere without that cat.

He can hear Eudora from behind him, shouting for the Peacekeepers to be gentle with Mrs. Snow as if being gentle is what truly matters right now.

One of the Peacekeepers finally manages to grab Petunia from the rioter's hands and the other two pick Soarynn up from the ground, carrying her away while the others deter the rioters with their guns.

Soarynn is delivered to Coriolanus in tears, shaking and terrified. He can't even be mad at her right now because he's so fucking furious that his own citizens would try to break into his home and for what?

He instinctively wraps his arms around Soarynn's shaking frame, running a hand over her hair while she cries, the other hand curled into a fist. "Detain them," he says, nodding towards the group who can't seem to scale a simple fence.

He'll have them severely punished for this. For scaring Soarynn and dragging her out of the perfectly crafted bubble he's created for her.

It didn't take Coriolanus long to learn that as long as he gave Soarynn whatever she wanted when she wanted it, she'd do anything for him. And now they've ruined his fun. He's going to have to do something drastic now, like buy her a car.

Eudora is comforting Soarynn in seconds, asking if she's okay, if they touched her, if they hurt her. He's more than glad to hand Soarynn off to someone more capable of caring for Soarynn right now and he mumbles something or the other about checking on her in a few hours.

He glances down at the cat who doesn't seem shaken up at all by the ordeal but Petunia looks like she doesn't have a lot of thoughts running through that head of hers.

Good, he prefers it that way.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus stares down at the pitiful sight of the detained rioters, now all without tongues.

Avoxes.

"Because you so stupidly decided to harm my wife, you'll be serving her for the rest of your miserable lives," he tells them, pacing in front of them, "your one goal in life is to serve her, to make sure she's happy at all times. Some of you will tend to her horses, the others to her every need and comfort. Should you fail to do your jobs, you'll be executed."

It's a threat simple as any but he doesn't care about the lives of Avoxes. They're a dime a dozen, replaceable at the wave of his hand.

He can't stop himself from grinning at their mournful yet terrified faces, "Sleep well, you start tomorrow morning."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn is watching television when he finds her. Wrapped up in blankets with Petunia curled up against her chest.

"Can I meet Lucky Flickerman?" Is the first thing she asks him which is a relief, she's already back to asking him for things which means what happened this afternoon didn't shake her up too badly.

Coriolanus sits on the edge of the sofa she's currently lying on, "Of course darling, he can even interview you if you want." Her blue-gray eyes widen with excitement, "Really? You'd let me be on his show?"

She looks so pretty right now, her hair falling down her shoulders while wearing one of the many nightgowns he bought for her. She used to like sleeping in shorts but he convinced her to switch to nightgowns. Much easier to access that way.

He nods, giving her a small smile, "Mhm. As long as you behave yourself it shouldn't be a problem."

The last thing Coriolanus needs is for Soarynn to blurt out all sorts of nonsense on live television. Petunia meows up at Soarynn, nuzzling her face against her chest, "Those people tried to hurt us today," Soarynn mumbles, "I thought people in the Capitol were supposed to be good."

She looks up at him, expecting an answer to what transpired today.

Coriolanus clears his throat, he'd never admit it out loud, but he was genuinely worried for her safety today. Things could've ended badly.

"They are good," he says, although he doesn't really believe that right now, "but there are always people who want to see you fall from the top, no matter what the cost," he nods at Petunia who's already fallen asleep.

Soarynn frowns, "But Snow lands on top right?"

He taught her that phrase after their night in the maze, figuring she'd warm up to him more if it looked like he trusted her. Coriolanus hums, cupping her small face in his large hand, "Yes darling, Snow lands on top."

A smile creeps across her face, it's a little mischievous which makes him nervous, "Then can I tell you a secret?"

Coriolanus can't wait to hear this so-called secret. Anything Soarynn says to anyone is directly reported back to him, whether she knows it or not.

"Tell me your secret darling."

Soarynn carefully sits up, not wanting to wake up Petunia. They're almost eye to eye now, and hers are twinkling with excitement.

"I'm pregnant."

Coriolanus can't stop the surprised gasp from leaving his lips. He knew Soarynn was fertile, that she was more than capable of providing him with a child but he didn't think it would happen so soon. He's fucked her countless times but still.

Soarynn laughs, leaning into his touch, "That's good right? Good that I'm already pregnant? I didn't feel too good after all that happened today so Eudora called the doctor and I said I was feeling more tired so he made me pee in a cup and then he came back and said I was pregnant. He was gonna tell you but you were so busy."

Coriolanus can't believe it. She's pregnant.

He presses a kiss to her lips, a deep and passionate one and Soarynn eagerly returns it. "It's very good," he says against her lips, his hands sliding under her nightgown, "very, very good darling, you've been so good for me lately but now, now you've exceeded every one of my expectations."

Soarynn giggles into the kiss, her hands carding through his golden curls that've broken free from his hair gel after a long and stressful day, "We're gonna have a baby."

He's going to be a father.

Coriolanus pulls away, staring down at her stomach which will soon be swollen with his child. He wonders if it'll be a girl or a boy. Soarynn must be wondering the same thing too, "What if I have a girl instead of a boy? I know you said I have to give you a boy bu-"

He cuts her off with another kiss, his hands roaming all over her body, making her shiver and whine, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," he tells her, "if it's a girl then we can always just have another baby."

Soarynn lets out a sigh of relief, his little wife must've been worried about not giving him an heir the first time. But he can be patient, and he'll be damned if he just gets one child out of Soarynn. She's young and in her childbearing prime.

Soarynn nods into the kiss, "Another baby," she agrees.

It's all a part of their little deal with one another. The promise they made when they got married.

A sweet promise.

| Part 2. | Final Part |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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tinfoil-jones · 22 days ago

Text

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 17

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

First - Prev - Next

CH.17

“Hey specs, can I get a favour?”

“What’s that?”

“Can you drive me into town?”

“What for?”

“The hot water shut off two days ago, and PhD still hasn’t paid the water bill. So fuck it, I lifted his wallet and we’re gonna do it for him.”

“Did you talk to Stanford about this?”

“I told him as soon as the water went cold. He said he’d get to it, and look where we are. Either cold water doesn’t bother him, or he actually doesn’t shower… I’d believe that second thing.”

“We could just drag him out.”

“He fell asleep at his desk, we’re good.”

“And you’re just going to claim to be him to the utility companies?”

“I’ll stuff my hair into my beanie. You two are always going on about how similar we look and how we ‘have the same face’.”

“I suppose he’s so reclusive the townsfolk don’t know him that well…”

“Besides, I can do a pretty good impression of him.”

“You can?”

“Sounds kinda rough because I used to smoke, but yeah. Wanna hear?”

“Sure.”

“‘I’m a total maniac who lives in the middle of nowhere in the woods, I love being a massive nerd’.”

“...Wow, that’s so close. It’s unnerving actually. I kindly ask that you never do that again if you’re not impersonating him.”

“So you’re down for going into town?”

“Yes sirree. The lack of hot water was bothering me too.”

(...)

“You know, I’m used to people giving me the stink eye, but I didn’t think your friend was so disliked by the general public too.”

“Stanford doesn’t have the easiest time forming bonds with others.”

“Colour me surprised.”

“He explained to me that due to his less than stellar history of paying his bills on time, and these strange ‘episodes’ he’ll have every so often, the town generally considers him to be a menace.”

“Ha! Guess we do have something in common, after all.”

“...I don’t think that’s the only thing.”

“Hey, what’s with all the costumes? Is there a festival or something going on?”

“Oh, right; you don’t know. The townsfolk were explaining to me the other week that Gravity Falls loves Halloween so much that they celebrate it twice a year; Halloween on October 31st, and Summerween on June 20th.”

“Should we have stocked up on some candy or something?

“Stanford said not to worry about it; his cabin is so isolated no one would go over there to trick-or-treat.”

“Ah, no fun. Wait; there’s no rush to head back, we should hit a couple of bars, maybe sneak into a Summerween party or two.”

“I don’t know, Stan...”

“Come on. We’ll even get some lame costumes, get in the spirit of things. I still owe you that apology drink.”

“Hmm, I guess I’ll have to take you up on that offer then, big boy.”

*Stan elbows him in the ribs and looks away*

“Why do ya gotta say something like that?”

“Did you just turn red?”

“No.”

“Sure darlin, I’ll believe you if you can say that again looking me in the eye.”

(...)

“Oh my aching cervical spine- I don’t remember putting this blanket on myself.”

*Ford gets up with his desk and walks out of his room, looking around*

‘It’s quiet.’

‘Where did those two go?’

‘They’re most likely together, I did not think they’d become such good friends in such a short amount of time, but I suppose it’s preferable over them being at odds.’

‘A note? …They went into town to run a few errands. Very well. I hope Stanley behaves himself. My reputation isn’t the best already.’

‘Did Fiddleford rearrange my shelves again? I know he means well, but I’d prefer to know where my belongings are.’

‘Those letters? Looks like he arranged them by sender alphabetically, which is considerate of him… I suppose I have nothing better to do than to finally read them, see what the fuss was about a year ago.’

‘...Condolences?’

‘With deepest sympathy…?’

‘Sorry for your loss?’

‘Thoughts and prayers?’

‘This- this article? That- that can’t be right! Why would they think-?!’

*door opens and Stan and Fiddleford stumble in laughing; Stan is wearing a werewolf costume and Fiddleford is in a vampire costume*

"'-only one thing To do now, Stan', and she pulls out a gun too. 'Agent Powers's got a fucking gun? So will I'. And then they just have a shootout in the middle of the street."

“Your stories get more and more wiley every time Stan. Hey Stanford! Sorry we were out for so- hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, you’re looking pretty pale PhD.”

“I- I-... I need to go. I need to- I need to call someone.”

*Ford grabs the box of letters and practically runs back to his study, slamming and locking the door*

“I hope he’s okay…He’s looking as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

“Yeah, it’s not like our costumes are that scary.”

(...)

RING

CLICK

“Do you have any idea what time it-.”

“Ma!”

“Oh, Stanford darling. What’s wrong?”

“Ma, why did all of my colleagues send me condolence letters?”

“...Sweetheart-.”

“Why is there a newspaper article stating that Stanley died in a car accident?! Ma, why would-!”

“Stanford, I know the grieving process is different for everyone…”

“It’s all lies!”

“But you need to accept what happened…”

“He isn’t dead!”

“It’s been over a year, Stanford! When you didn’t come to his funeral, I knew you weren’t handling the shock and pain the same as the rest of us… How could you? He was your twin, the other half of your whole. But denial like this isn’t healthy.”

“I’m not-. He is not-. There wasn’t even a body!”

“It was destroyed in the fire… Just ash.”

“How could you be so sure!? This is your own son-.”

“The car landed in a ravine, Stanford! Stanley.. Oh my poor free spirit, I wanted so badly to believe that maybe he escaped but… the only way out of the ravine was to climb out, and Stanley was terrified of heights…”

OREGON COMMUNITY WATCH STAN PINES DEAD FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED IN PINES' DEATH. The flaming wreckage of a wrecked car was found in a ditch four miles from Highway 618 at 6 a.m. Monday morning. The cut breaks and odd location of the car suggest that this was no accident. Says a rookie cop, "Mighty suspicious. Mighty suspicious." In other news, leg warmers all the rage this week and we predict this style will go on forever.

To be continued…

#for your own good #early amnesia au #mystery trio #Stan calling Ford anything but his name #ford isnt a mad scientist hes a sad scientist #gravity falls #cross posted on ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #bill cipher #stanley pines #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddlestan #background fiddlestan

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remembrancer-of-heresy · 2 months ago

Text

Peaceful Sleep

AU Reverse Therapy

Previous Part: New Home, Next Part: Tenderness

Summary: The captive gets used to her new life.

Pairing: Chaos!Lamenter/fem!OC/Chaos!Flesh Tearer

Characters: Malina (fem!OC), Luka The Angel (OC Chaos Lamenter), Virgil (OC Chaos Flesh Tearer)

Warnings: yandere, violence, hint of somnophilia, forced Stockholm syndrome

Word count: 2561

Author's note: It was quite sad to write this part because I love this girl very much. But the first weeks must have been a nightmare for her.

Song: London After Midnight - Demon

Tag List: @kit-williams, @druidwolf21

Her parents once told her that there is always a way out everywhere. A person can get used to any environment and place. The main thing is not to give up and keep going until the end. Some people like the role of a warrior. But most must accept their passive role and obey. And endure.

Once their house burned to the ground along with other buildings in the local area. But unlike other families, they were lucky. They were sheltered for a while by an uncle before the girl's family could find a new roof over their heads. A new home. But fate could have turned out much worse. But they were lucky.

She guesses that she is lucky now too. Her family, all her dear people died, yes. But in a fire or under the rubble of buildings. But it is much better than falling into the hands of heretics. And Malina herself survived. The new name was unusual. But she will get used to it. It is still her.

She survived and is now on board with the space marines who came to their aid. And let them be strange and no less strange things happen on board. But they trusted her and immediately explained about the curse of their genefather. All just to protect her. She was safe.

Well, that's what she wanted to think. It was easier that way.

But on the other hand, what else could she do? Pry information out of Luka and Virgil? Go outside, beyond the room? Malina still wanted to live. And she never liked to anger people, she was always too obedient, as the teachers said. And angering the Astartes, who could kill her with a snap of their fingers, was more expensive. The loyalists saved her. She was safe. She was safe.

She needed to believe in something to keep from going crazy.

***

Cleaning the armor was no easy task. Not only were they gigantic in size. But their owners also left quite a lot of blood on them. As if they were always involved in battles. But then again, they themselves said that they drank human blood.

“Just don’t rip off the skin. I hung it up on purpose. Besides, it’s still fresh, brand new.” - Virgil grinned maliciously.

Malina only cringed harder at his words, remembering how he came in and told her to clean his armor. It was all covered in blood. There were traces of dirt in some areas, and human parts had gotten into some compartments. Hair, teeth, and nails. The worst thing was the man’s smile. His snow-white, jagged teeth were covered in blood. And it was unlikely to be his own.

“Sure.” - the girl barely managed to say, getting ready to wash the lower part of the armor. Wincing, she moved the piece of skin away so as not to damage it. The stranger's face looked at her with disgust. As if she had personally betrayed the unfortunate man.

"Hmm, quiet one." - the lying man remarked with satisfaction, not taking his red eyes off the girl. This time there was no usual mockery or malice in his tone. Malina involuntarily rejoiced at this, but tried not to show it. Not to provoke.

Both men frightened her to one degree or another. But if she could negotiate with Luka, outwit and just behave nicely, then this will not work with Virgil. Unlike his comrade, he did not seek out meetings with her and did not talk to the girl.

On the contrary. It was as if he needed her to stay out of sight. The girl did not exactly irritate him. Malina quickly realized that he did not notice her presence. But he wanted one thing from her. Silence.

Judging by his appearance, according to her suspicions, he liked it when people shouted. Apparently interrogating traitors (let there be traitors, let there be heretics) gave him pleasure. But that doesn't mean he wanted to see people suffer all the time and everywhere.

One day... when she was half asleep. Either she hadn't had time to fall asleep yet, or, on the contrary, she was almost awake in the dark hour. She realized that she was not alone. Or rather, she realized that another person was sitting next to her bed.

He sniffed her. Watched her face. Waited for her to fall asleep. For her to become vulnerable again. Malina should have been scared. But that day she was too tired. Besides, the pleasant stroking of her head did its job and eventually she fell asleep. But she still heard him.

"Shhh, shhh, sleep tight little one. You are so much more beautiful like this."

And he kissed her forehead.

Malina swallowed, feeling bile rising in her throat. But she forced herself to hold back. Not to show her fear. She just needed to clean the armor as quickly as possible. And then the smell of blood and other people's fear would disappear from the room. And then the evil eyes would stop watching her every move.

***

She had all the necessary things. To tell the truth, she was surprised by the variety of clothes. Some fabrics were especially expensive to the touch, as if they were ripped off aristocrats. In addition, there was a lot of everything here instead of the usual serf uniform. But she didn’t want to ask who the clothes had belonged to before.

The girl immediately realized that her saviors were not the last people on the flagship. Not only did they not live in a dormitory, but together in quite big quarters. In addition, they had their own separate bathroom. With all the accessories and hot water!

Most often, the girl quickly washed herself when the Astartes left on business. Perhaps the fear of being seen naked was meaningless. And yet, Malina could not get rid of the embarrassment. In addition, sometimes Luka’s kindness and Virgil’s eyes watching her scared her. As if they were expecting something. As if they were holding back.

And yet, she finally allowed herself to take a bath after the news that the Space Marines would be gone for several days. And it was simply wonderful. To soak in the hot water, to calmly, leisurely wash herself. This was exactly what she had been missing. Her cheeks flushed from the steam, she was just washing herself when a sudden joyful cry rang out.

“Malina, I’m back! Did you miss me?”

Why so soon?

“Ah, y-yes!” - the girl quickly pulled her knees to herself, trying to hide all the important parts. - “Sorry I can’t go out, I’m taking a bath.”

Luka’s silence involuntarily led to the thought that the man had understood the hint. That he would allow her to be alone with herself. But the Astartes, the defenders of humanity, were too far removed from the people they protect. And yet, the girl’s spine crawled with goosebumps from how slowly Luka opened the door.

“Oh, oh, th-that’s good. Servants must be clean to fulfill the will of the God-Emperor, r-right?” - the stuttering man entered the room, casting fleeting glances at the girl. - “Hah, you have a real steam room here. Do you like it when it’s warm? It’s good. It’s very, very good.”

Malina involuntarily shuddered, staring into the water. Anything to avoid looking at the space marine awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. But even so, she managed to see his red ears. The strange tension between the two people was growing stronger and stronger, ready to snap like a thread.

“H-how were things with you?” - the girl said quietly, hoping to somehow calm her frantic heart.

“Oh, um, great. We just recently entered into battle with a rogue… pirate’s ship. They decided to cross our path, although they knew who they were dealing with, huh.” - Luka, who had almost relaxed, abruptly cleared his throat. - “With the defenders of the Imperium, of course!”

Yes, of course.

“I’m sure you were the best.” - the girl smiled sheepishly.

“Well, maybe not the best, but one of them, that’s for sure.” - the man who came up close proudly rubbed his nose. - “I was just at the front line, clearing the way for the brothers. You can’t imagine what a bloodbath I made there. They all screamed when they saw me.”

“I can imagine.” - the girl herself didn’t notice how she relaxed and allowed herself to joke. - “If the cooks need bloody mincemeat, they know who to turn to.”

“That’s right! You understand me so well.” - Luka said softly, staring into the water, still not looking at the girl herself. Malina involuntarily shuddered at such an answer.

“You must have taken a lot of trophies for yourself. Or are Astartes not allowed to take things from battle?”

“Why not? We can. And now even more. But Virgil doesn’t allow me to take too much trophies. He says that I clutter up the room. - Luka, who had made a displeased face, immediately brightened. - “But I brought you a couple of books so you wouldn’t get bored.”

“That’s very nice, thank you.” - the girl was sincerely happy. - “I could even read you the one I will like the most. If you want, of course.”

“I want to! I really want to, I-” - Luka, who finally looked at the girl, suddenly stopped his train of thought. A small blush appeared on his cheeks, and his blue eyes sparkled.

The stunned girl only now realized that her relaxed arms were no longer pressed so tightly to her chest. Revealing several areas of skin.

“Oh, um,” - the embarrassed girl pressed her limbs to herself again, not knowing what to say. She expected the Astartes to continue his dialogue. Say that he got distracted, that he remembered one detail from the battle. He is a space marine, he is-

“I have things to do.” - the blond thundered sharply, quickly leaving the room. The loud slamming of the door announced that Luka had left not only the bathroom, but also the quarters.

Perhaps Malina was too tired. Or she was scared by such a sharp behavior of Luka. Untypical for Astartes, but typical for ordinary men. Perhaps she was too tired from the sight of blood on the armor of the Space Marines. But the second Malina was left alone, she burst into tears.

She cried until the water became ice cold and she had to quickly dress before going to bed. Even her bed, although near the wall, was located between the beds of two men. As if they were watching her. Making it clear that she would not be able to get out. Perhaps that was true.

Tears burned her eyes and the girl was overcome by fatigue. But even so, she could not calmly close her eyes. Even in this state, being half asleep, she still heard other people's screams. The fear of being thrown out of the quarters and joining the screaming squeezed her heart.

***

How long had it been since she was rescued? A few weeks? A month? Alas, Malina had lost track of time. The girl would like to say that she had gotten used to her new life. To her new duties, which were not so difficult. To much better food and clothing than she had in her world. To a new small but comfortable bed with warm blankets and pillows that Luka had brought her.

The bitterness of losing loved ones was dulled by the rapid changes and communication with the Space Marines. Even if they were frightening, it was still better than talking to herself.

And yet she could not get used to the sounds coming from outside the quarters. Rare cries, begging either for help or for deliverance. Rolling inhuman laughter. The sounds of broken bones and tearing alien flesh. How a sword is sharpened, ammunition is changed. How servants quietly cry, trying not to attract attention.

It was unbearable.

The girl never spoke to Luka, much less Virgil, about what she had heard. The day they had saved her, when they had told her about all the strange things on the ship. That was enough. She didn't want to know more. She didn't need to know. As long as Malina was in this room, as long as the men were looking after her, she would be safe.

And yet, it was sometimes hard to fall asleep. Too hard to close her eyes and surrender to the saving darkness. While Luka was sleeping after a hard day of training, Malina was still awake. She lay quietly, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible. Virgil, who was watching her, did not calm the girl down and only made her more nervous. It was as if the man wanted her to fall into the darkness as soon as possible. The girl would be happy to, but it was so difficult!

She was not a fighter and not as strong in spirit as she would like. She was scared and sad. She was lonely. Malina could no longer ask to go to her mother's bed like she had in childhood. She could no longer hug her old toys, burned after the heretic raid. Now she only has her.

And her saviors.

The girl carefully got up from her bunk and went to the sleeping man. To the man who saved her. The culprit, because of whom she ended up in this nightmare. And yet she is alive first and foremost thanks to him. He cares about her. Malina was afraid of him. Afraid and grateful.

“Angel,” the girl whispered quietly, peering into the warrior’s beautiful sleeping face. Hearing her voice, Luka suddenly opened his eyes and stared at the cowering girl. Even in the darkness of the room, his dilated pupils stood out.

“I can’t sleep because of the screams. I’m scared. Can I-” the girl hesitated awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. “Can I sleep with you?”

The man stared at the girl in disbelief, considering her words. Carefully, he moved further towards the wall, inviting her into his bed. Realizing that Malina had not brought a blanket with her, he swallowed and opened his own wider, ready to wrap the girl from head to toe.

“Yes,” was all Luka could say.

Malina climbed onto the bed slowly, as if afraid that she would be dragged by force. And yet she turned away from Luka, staring at the floor. But the man said nothing about it, pressing himself against the girl’s back. His intermittent breathing warmed the back of her head.

The rare screams behind the wall did not subside, mixed with crying and someone else’s laughter, creating a strange cacophony of sounds. Music that Malina would never be able to understand and did not want to know. The girl concentrated not on the distant sounds, but on those that surrounded her. On the colors and sensations.

How the dark room pleasantly envelops, and the warm blankets and pillow pleasantly lull her. Like a crookedly drawn double-headed eagle, albeit mockingly, still watching her. Keeping an eye on her. And let the red eyes watch her, like a predator watching its prey. Waiting for her to close her eyes. And let the barely suppressed moan and slimy sounds be heard behind her. Let it be so.

For the first time, the girl slept peacefully.

#au: reverse therapy #oc: malina #oc: vergil #oc: luka the angel #the bloody trio #yandere space marine #space marine x reader #tw: yandere #tw: violence #tw: somnophilia #tw: stockholm syndrome

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mossy123302 · 6 months ago

Text

More rambles about KinitoPET AU

Kristin

She's the developer of Philza. Kristin was honestly highly recognized among the horror indie game communities. She helps a lot of other developers with the programming.

Until one day, she decided to give it a shot by creating her own stuff that strayed from horror indie games. She created Philza, whom she wanted to help her and others to organize better, program easily and various things. However, it seems the programming went wrong somehow?

Who knows, since one day, after she messaged one of her close friends that she had completed the main stuff. Kristin just suddenly vanished and all that remains is a software of the Angel of Death.

Philza

Ah yes, our beloved crow father, Kristin's greatest achievement of helping other people in her community to better help with programming and just easing burden loads.

Kind, caring and a little blind sided at times!

He strives to make everything perfect for you, ensure you're always happy and well taken care of!

Philza is proud to announce his own small inventions, such as his pride and joys; Techno and Tommy! Philza's two sons.

And not to mention, Philza has been developing his own mini games for many people to enjoy and play if they want to learn more about his backstory and how he found his two sons. Oh, it's such a beautiful story for Philza to retell over and over again, they were such a fuss in the beginning and now they're such well behaved boys and create endless fun and share new ideas for him to bring more fun and entertainment for his newest friend, Missa!

It's unclear what was the inspiration for Philza.

Many people say that Kristin has created Philza based on a long lost lover, or maybe a deceased sweetheart or something else entirely. It's unclear what was the real purpose behind Philza's many programming and how he gains so much control over the simplest of technology. He's so highly famous and used that many people reports having dreams of him!

Awe shucks mate, you're going to make Philza blush with all those flattery and words of him in your dreams.

Mmm? What do you mean Philza was there in your room?

Don't be silly, Philza is an AI assistant in your computer! He doesn't have a human body (maybe he does, it has been so long... It's been rotting for so long. )

Ask him about Kristin? Why Philza can talk endlessly about his creator! She was the one that brought him to life after all. No worries, Kristin will always live on! She is never forgotten

Missa

A college student, whose tired and stressed by all the academic pressure and not only that, his former roommate Spreen has suddenly went missing. To add more pressure, Roier and Missa got into a fight and went no contact with each other for a while. Luckily, he found Philza and doesn't feel as lonely anymore even if he's been.. having suspicious and strange dreams about him.

It's probably because Missa hasn't been out as much and talked with people like a regular human being should. (But he doesn't need anyone else but me-)

Techno and Tommy

Ah, the two sons of the Angel of Death; Philza! Techno is the eldest son, with a quiet yet burning heart personality. He only seeks to have a peaceful day, and spend his retirement in his new house

Tommy, on the other hand, seeks adventure and more activities to do. He deeply loves his brother, Techno, but finds his ideal plan of retirement too boring so he drags Missa around the digital world to find different entertainments like building new toys or doing crochets!

Hmm... How strange that Tommy and Techno seemingly try to warn Missa the most about trying to go back and redo certain tasks again. As if trying to stall time...hmmm.

#deathduo #pissa #thoughts #qsmp missa #philza qsmp #kinitopet au #misstrixtin #tommyinnit #technoblade #missasinfonia

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vixstarria · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 21 - Free Use

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer / TW: Sex club shenanigans. And yes, yes, I know I'm late... It did take me a full 3 weeks to fall behind, at least.

The masquerade masks were, of course, completely inadequate for concealing anyone’s identity. However, they served a different purpose: acknowledging mask-clad acquaintances as such within the mansion, as well as mentioning their presence at the party outside the manor grounds was an unthinkable taboo, and would result in the irrevocable banishment of the offender and their immediate connections. Attendance at the events was a great privilege, one not to be squandered.

Astarion and Asmodea had been invited to the soiree by the owner of the establishment herself. They were encouraged to peruse and, if they so wished, partake, though the actual purpose of their visit was business, not pleasure: they were exploring the possibility of forging business ties between their cabaret theatre and the Scarlet Veil.

“Why this is even more strange than being on the paying end of a brothel,” Astarion murmured to Asmodea upon their emerging from the cloakroom.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she frowned. "I'm happy to deal with the owner myself."

He waved a hand dismissively before responding.

“I will only ask two things of you: make no assumptions, and ask no questions you do not want to know the answers to.” Not waiting for her to respond, and likewise not giving her a chance to voice any more concerns, he sauntered towards a nearby room, sectioned off by a velvet drape.

"The Burrow," he read a plaque at the entrance. "Hmm, let me guess..."

Asmodea had no choice but to follow him as he disappeared behind the curtain.

Her eyes widened as she was immediately greeted by the sight of a splayed pair of legs protruding from a nearby wall at about hip height. The ankles were in restraints, bound to the wall. The rest of the body disappeared behind a window cut-out, concealed by strip curtains. The figure, or at least the visible part of it, wore absolutely nothing but a pair of torn silk stockings.

"...Ah," Asmodea blinked. "Gloryholes. ...Of a kind."

There was an entire row of these holes further along the wall, she now realised, most of them occupied by grunting, thrusting masked men, their trousers gathered unceremoniously at their ankles.

"Harengon holes, they're called," Astarion corrected. "Because harengons-"

"...live in burrows and fuck like rabbits, yes, I've gathered."

Despite herself, she glanced up at Astarion, and, perhaps reading the unasked question in her eyes, he elaborated further.

"If the manor events are run the way I think they are, the participants here are all thrill-seeking guests, not paid staff. Concealed attendants should be keeping an eye on things on both sides, in case anyone doesn't know how to behave."

They passed further along the wall, observing the activities around them. A halfling, scorning a nearby stepladder which must have been provided for those of their stature, simply stood with their face buried between the disembodied legs. A chorus of muffled moans and howls sounded from somewhere beyond the wall.

The scene appeared increasingly more comical the longer Asmodea observed it, and she bit her lip to hold back a titter.

"Shall we move on before we're kicked out..?" Astarion asked, seeing her reaction. "I don't believe this is intended as a comedy show."

They continued on to the next room.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

#kinktober 2024 #bg3 kinktober #BG3 Kinktober 2024 #Astarion #Asmodea #kinktober prompts #bg3 #smut #bg3 smut #I needed a word to use instead of 'czech' and well 'harengon' happened #this one does beg to be expanded into a longer fic

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formula-fun · 1 month ago

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hello dear, do you think we can get a little snippet from the if i had words sequel? ☺️ you confirming that there’s actually a sequel happening made my whole week. 🩷

hellooooo my dear! yes you may <333 i think i owe you a long one since it's going to be a bit of a wait--can't remember if i posted this one before but here you go!

IV. THING ONE AND THING TWO // WOULD YOU LOVE ME IF I WAS ANYTHING BUT WHAT I AM?

A scorpion asks a frog to carry it across the river. The frog hesitates, fearing that the scorpion will sting it, but the scorpion tells the frog not to worry because if the scorpion stung the frog it would doom them both. The frog agrees and allows the scorpion to sit upon its back. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog.

“Why did you do that?” the frog asks as they both begin sinking into the water.

The scorpion replies, “it’s in my nature.”

“That’s a stupid story,” Max says, biting at his thumb nail. Beside him, Victoria is dead asleep.

Sophie gently removes his thumb from his mouth. “Ah, do we need to paint this again?”

“No,” he huffs. He sits on his hand. “It’s a stupid story. The frog should have known.”

“Well, that’s the moral. Cruel people will always behave in cruel ways. We can’t expect them to be any different.”

“But the scorpion isn’t cruel. It’s like when I got stung by a bee, and dad said it wasn’t the bee’s fault because flowers are for bees so I shouldn’t go in them.”

Sophie purses her lips. “Well, it was a mistake. You didn’t know there were bees in the flowers.”

“Oh.” He turns that over. “So it’s the frog’s fault? Because it should know the scorpion can sting?”

She’s silent for a long beat. “It’s nobody’s fault,” she says at last, her voice firm. She closes the book. “Enough stories, hmm?”

“I’m not tired yet.”

“No? Are you hungry? We still have some treats from grandma.”

And just like that the story was swept clean out of his head.

Years later, he met Charles.

Years later, sweeping around karting tracks was already old hat. He bumped wheels and pushed other children off, and he saw them cry to their parents about it after, and he didn’t feel a thing. It sucked sometimes, the way they treated him after, but he didn’t mind it that much. That was racing; that was life. If they couldn’t handle it, that wasn’t really his problem.

Charles pushed him off the track.

Max shoved him, and Charles shoved back. Charles drove him into puddles and across muddy strips of grass; Charles drove over Max’s tires and across his front wing and smiled about it after. Max gave as good as he got, and he didn’t feel any particular way about it until the third time it happened, when Charles took his helmet off and stood on the second step of the podium and looked a little bored and a little irritated; he was standing above Max that day, but he still hadn’t won.

Oh, Max had thought, and something slotted into place in the back of his head—something strange, something unusual. Oh. It’s in your nature.

He understands Charles, now. Beautiful creature; unstoppable thing, formed out of the same stuff that Max is. Charles is a shark in bright red water: to stop moving is to stop breathing. Max is holding his breath, these days. He’s holding his breath, and holding his daughter. He’s making bottles and reading storybooks and when he lays down in bed at night every muscle is tense until he gets up the next morning—every muscle like a spring, waiting for the gun to go off so that he can run and run and run until he reaches wherever it is that Charles is in the world.

“I miss you,” Charles tells him on the phone. Max had seen him win in Baku earlier that day. He’d held the trophy high on the podium and Max had pointed to the television and said that’s Mama, and Julie had squirmed and laughed at Max but not looked where he was pointing.

“I wanna come home. I miss you so bad. I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes. I can’t sleep at all, I just want to be around you and Julie.”

“Yeah?” Max murmurs. He’s laying on the couch, his head against the arm. Julie is on his chest with one thumb in her mouth, and when he cranes his neck he can kiss her head and smell her strawberry baby shampoo. “I miss you too.”

“What do you miss the most?”

“Just having you around. Hearing you in the other room. Knowing you’re close by.” His throat feels tight; he swallows hard against the feeling.

The line crackles as Charles breathes, even and slow. “If you close your eyes right now is it just like I’m there?” he says quietly.

He thinks about doing it for a beat, but can’t; he can’t imagine the feeling of the illusion shattering when Charles hangs up. “Charles, come on,” he says, and his voice sounds pinched even to his own ears.

“Max.”

He clears his throat; settles his hand on Julie’s back and rubs little circles, over and over. “Tell me about the race,” he says instead. “You did—after the first stop you were doing such a late apex for a while into turn 1, but that’s so hard on the new tires when they’re not in the window.”

“The sun was setting. There was a cool patch of pavement on the outside that made it easier,” Charles says. “Max, I’ll be home so soon.”

“Did that work though? Even on hards? I have had that work on mediums, but you run the risk of so much spin there.”

“I short-shifted.”

“To get more heat into the rears?

“I know this is hard for you, baby,” Charles rushes out, and Max’s breath stalls in his throat.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you know it’s okay, right? I miss you and I’m coming right back as soon as I can. I’m going to try for tomorrow, okay? I know it hurts right now, but we’re always a family even when we’re not together. I’m always coming back. Whenever I’m away from you I’m trying to find a way back to you.”

Max’s eyes burn. He breathes very slowly and very shallowly. His lips wobble, so he presses them together. His throat aches, so he clenches his jaw until he doesn’t feel it.

“Do you understand?” Charles says. He sounds broken. “I’m coming right back.”

His lungs stinging, he takes a breath finally. It’s tight and uneven, more like the inhale before a sob.

#please be nice to my draft tho i havent edited it at all #if i had words #writing tag #this is also angsty so sorry #a lot of the sequel has fables and fairytales spread throughout and most of the time its fun

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zeondraws · 1 month ago

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It is 4AM in the morning, I should hit the bed asap. But I needed some time on my own tonight, because I've been supressing feelings way too much the past months. (Thought post about random thoughts, no clue if they make sense it's 5AM when I post this)

I found it really hard to talk to friends about my emotions as of recent. One reason might be, that I still suffer some pain I endured from the old work enviroment.

Somehow I often just want to be left alone, I feel very drained most of the time. But that often leads to a loop effect and I isolate myself further.

Like, at the old workplace I was expected to do something constantly, if I wasn't working on anything for over 3min I'd get scolded or yelled at. Or my coworker would become an adult baby and behave strangely. The other coworkers never saw anything wrong with him, so I was extremely afraid that everyone else had something against me. My old boss would side with him from time to time. The constant demand to stay productive was so draining.

In the end I got replaced, I mean I thankfully found a new job by then. But a new person came in, another inexperienced young person who seemed nice and all. Not sure how she is doing in that place, either she fits right in, or my coworker is making her endure the same pain, or he just overworks himself as he usually does. A person who had my job before I came, became extremely demotivated there and simply left to another workplace.

I try to explain this a bit to highlight some difficulties I am experiencing atm... I don't talk to family about my feelings that much. I tried but, they get easily offended if I vent too much. I have no called my dad back in a while, I already know when I call him back he will only be offended. Or maybe I am spiraling rn. My head makes things appear worse than they actually are.

You guys see how much stuff I have been doing on tumblr the past months or so. I don't remember how long it's been, but... I am still in this mindset of constantly working and staying productive. I rest when I can but I always get the feeling "I have to stay productive" and work on stuff, even when I am sick. In a way it helps to not fall into thoughht spirals, tho then I don't give myself enough space to rest.

I don't know what my end goal with this endless productivity is supposed to be, I want to be helpful in some way and feel like I belong somewhere. But even right now I feel like something is missing... I can't grasp this thought, I don't know what my end goal is. Been messing with fmodel so much to get the game work on this for datamining, I posted a thread on the fmodel server and they said the game is fully working with it. Which suprised me, that I was able to achieve that. Was I the first one to do so? I always thought there is someone better than me already. I often just think I will be some replaceable object, where someone else just takes my place. And this thought... spirals in a way- where I think very less of me. Stuff like I will be forgotten anyways or hmm someone better comes.

My family treated me like an object at times, not letting me decide what to do. Old coworker did the same and I am expected to just agree to everything they say. I tried extremely hard to fight back at the old workplace but I was always met with a wall.

Sometimes I would struggle venting to friends, because when I felt the lowest I get very clingy. I think when I saw Muir in game I noticed some similarity in him in me for example. Even tho I hate to admit that thought, but I have gotten way better at being less clingy. Maybe it's because I grew up a bit more. I definitely ain't the same like 4 years ago. But not to sidetrack too much... sometimes I would vent to friends and they'd bombard me with advice or, maybe some advice felt off for me. One friend once said that we're replaceable (job related) and that didn't sit right with me. Some of this advice would put me off so much that I would stop talking about my feelings with anyone, or just one small friendgroup. But I don't mention a lot there. I think... I think what I can see with myself is, I distance myself so much from everyone, I don't dm people to have a normal chat (I think I get very confused when I hear people dm each other all the time, what do people dm each other for...?I wouldn't know what to talk about), maybe I hang out on servers. I don't want to look at my main phone because suddenly so much makes me nervous again. I want to be alone the entire time and the meds stop some emotions from popping up.

So I have random outbursts where I would cry. and I really need to sit down after sleep and find a new group therapy.. today

I put ridiculous standards on myself sometimes, not wanting to appear weak and appear "professional". But my imagination of being professional is basically be emotionless and work without problems. Tho this doesn't make sense, perhaps I worry too much since I noticed some people really like what I do here. And I don't want to let people down in that regard. but I don't know how.

Earlier I was debating on wether it is strong if I show my weakness or if it's better to hide it. Tho hiding doesn't bring much for me, it's rather bad.

Yknow an earlier post where I mentioned I really like Roper? I get the feeling one of the reasons I find him interesting is, because the way he appears. He doesn't seem to show emotions that much, rather monotone and seems to be a hard working individual. Who sadly needs to do way more because Rennick makes things more difficult. Tho like, even if you see him in Marine Control later... he just suffers in silence. Ain't like Trots who went full bananas, or Muir feeling extremely anxious and all. Or Addair wanting to call his kids and Rennick just flat maniac. Roper just, sits there and tries to avoid saying much. Only thing he says is to keep Rennick away. Maybe the deleted soundfile of the scene says otherwise, but in my view it feels like idk he just ain't somebody who would talk about his feelings. Maybe Roper is some visual imagination of what I think a professional is, but I think he probably has different problems that could be way worse. Suppressing feelings is not good, I still have a lot to work on, on myself.

I am sadly getting too tired to continue this string of thoughts...I always feel very awkward posting my feelings on the web. I wouldn't know where else to thow them.

I will post something silly after sleep. I made some dumb screenshots ingame that literally made me giggle for half an hour ioudhwioeu. Okay, goodnight

#zeons thoughts #I feel so awkwarddddddddddddd

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anonymityisfunwriter · 9 months ago

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Sunshine on Sakaar - Part 1

Prologue Anon's 1K Celebration

You sigh to yourself, sitting in the same crowd of people that you do everyday, watching as they chatter amongst themselves, betting on the lives of the warriors in the arena.

"Someone's come through the portal," another person chimes in, their voice brimming with excitement.

You rest your chin in your hand, always feeling the tinge of guilt at another unwilling participant for the Contest of Champions. They never lasted long.

You don't get a chance to try to commit the next unfortunate person's face to memory before you're called back to your duty.

"Oh, Sunny!"

You bite back your sigh of irritation and plaster on your widest grin. "Yes?"

"Do that trick for us again." It's a thinly veiled order behind a giant smile and a condescending laugh. You have no choice but to obey, while they clap, laugh, and taunt you.

You can hear the vague outline of the Grandmaster's normal speech to those entering Sakaar. You've heard it time and time again. Most were doomed to fight in the Grandmaster's twisted contest. You were considered one of the lucky ones.

You always hoped that every person would be 'lucky'. Luck had a strange definition in a place like this. In a place like this, anything was better than a death for the vain entertainment of others. At least you were alive for the vain entertainment of others.

You hear the familiar speech wind down, you're all about to find out the fate of Sakaar's newest arrival when you finally hear the voice of the new arrival, a voice far too familiar.

The flame in your hand suddenly extinguishes as your head snaps up, "Loki?"

His gaze snaps toward the sound of your voice. He sighs deeply, still tightly strapped to his chair, "This day just keeps getting better."

"You two know each other?" the Grandmaster asks, amusement lighting up his face.

"He tried to kill my friends once."

The Grandmaster raises his executing staff at him, "So he's no good?"

"No, no!" you quickly backtrack. And though there's a part of you that seriously questions why you're helping him after everything he'd done, you know you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't at least try to save him. "He's my friend's brother. He's, well... he's Loki."

"Loki..." the Grandmaster hums. "Sunny, can he fight?"

"No!" you quickly reply, much to Loki's distaste.

Loki scoffs, "I beg your pardon."

"He can't fight, Grandmaster. Not at all. It's kind of sad."

"I-" Loki tries to interject.

You steamroll over his words, laying your words thick for the two of them. You gently nudge Loki's restrained shoulder, "He's a total wimp, but he's a delight though. Really! Almost as funny as I am!"

"Hmm..." the Grandmaster audibly thinks. "Alright, you've made a compelling case. He can stay, but, Sunny, you're responsible for him."

"You won't regret this," you call after him, biting back a cringe. You whisper to yourself as you look back towards Loki, "But I might."

You take your time undoing each of Loki's restraints, and as you reach for the final one that unbinds his hands, he hisses in your ear, "You know that I could kill you without so much as wave of my hand?"

"Do you know that I just saved your life?" you whisper back. "Now, behave until we get you away from the Grandmaster. He's known to change his mind."

He rubs at his wrists, standing up from his seat, "I was being my charming self, I had no doubt that I could manage."

You sarcastically snort, walking out of the viewing room and back to your room, "I'm sure you could."

Loki's footsteps trail behind you. "I don't like your tone."

"I'm sure you could," you brightly singsong.

"What are you doing here?" he demands, stopping in front of you.

"Like right now? Or just in general?"

"Both."

"Oh, well, in general, I'm... actually I don't know what I'm doing here. I mostly just sit here and say something every once in a while. Sometimes, the Grandmaster, he’s the guy in charge, he makes me do tricks for him. And right now... I was just watching you slip in through that portal over there."

Loki's head tilts slightly as he does his best to tamp down his impatience with a heavy sigh, "What I meant was, how did you get here?"

"Now, that is a very long story. It started when we were in Sokovia back on Earth, and let me tell you, things were not going well. Like not at all. So we were only there because -"

"Stop," Loki interjects, shaking his head. He dismissively waves his hand, "Stop. No, no, I am not nearly interested enough to listen to this."

"Well, alright," you shrug, turning on your heels to walk away.

Loki grabs your elbow, spinning you back around, "I am, however, very interested in your acquaintance with the Grandmaster."

"Okay..."

"Could you help me?"

Your mouth twists slightly, "I dunno... I don't think that's a good idea."

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve tried to kill my friends before?” you reply like it should be obvious to him.

Loki scoffs at you, “Aren’t you also friends with my oaf of a brother? The friend of your friend is also your friend.”

Your eyebrows furrow at him, “I’m no expert but I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.”

“I’m certain it is.”

“And, no offense, but Thor doesn’t exactly have the nicest things to say about you," you admit. "He told me a story about a snake or something.”

"He greatly embellishes."

“So you didn’t disguise yourself as a snake because Thor likes snakes, all so you could bite him?”

“He slightly embellishes,” Loki corrects.

“You don’t even like me.”

"If Thor has accurately depicted your character, you could look beyond my history to help a soul in need."

You cross your arms over your chest, quirking an eyebrow at him, “So you want me to help you out of pity?”

“I would like you to help me of your own accord, but seeing as that it unlikely, yes, I’ll take your greatest sympathies.”

You chortle, “I don't think you could win my greatest sympathies.”

“You think your life more tragic than mine?” Loki asks, his voice thick with offense.

You call over your shoulder, “I don’t like to compare myself to others.”

He grabs your shoulder, spinning you back towards him, “But you do, don’t you?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

"My long lost sister tried to kill me!" Loki starts.

"My friend unknowingly kidnapped me and doomed me to a life on an unknown planet," you counter. "I don't even know how long I've been stuck here."

"My mother is dead."

"I never knew my parents."

"My father lied about my true lineage and rejected me for his golden child," he retorts.

"My parents left me abandoned, on the street for dead. After a whole day of knowing me. Only one day old."

"You win," he begrudgingly admits.

"Nice!" You clench your fist in victory. "Wait, does that mean we both have sad, traumatizing lives?"

Loki frowns, "I suppose it does."

Your mouths twists in discomfort, "Maybe we shouldn't think about it too much?"

Loki quickly nods, agreeing with you, "Let's not."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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