#cs member writing

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Surgery

In which the Drifter requests medical assistance from Eris Morn.

Now with art from @h3xxthev3xx !!!

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

ACCESS: RESTRICTED DECRYPTION KEY: 7CP9SXMO2G$IKO-006 REP#: 062-DERELICT-AUDIO AGENT(S): AUN-326 SUBJ: RECENT VIP#1316 and ERI-223 INTERACTIONS - MULTIPLE RECORDINGS

RECORDING 77455.8 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“Hey, Moondust!”

“What is it, Rat?”

“Serious question for you. I’ve been thinkin’-”

“A challenge for you, I’m sure.”

“Aww… you ruined it.”

“Ruined what?”

“Can’t tell you now. Maybe later.”

“Clearly it wasn’t that important.”

“Oh it was, but it can wait.”

“Speak plainly. What do you want?”

“Nope. Not telling you now. The moment is gone.”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

...

RECORDING 77456.4 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“Hey, Three-Eyes.”

“I am returning your call. Your message said it was important.”

“Yeah, so, um… you do dissections, right? Cutting stuff up, like, medically? For science?”

“Generally, yes.”

“So you’d be good at using tweezers to pull bits of shrapnel out from being embedded in human flesh, right?”

“What have you done?”

“I was working on a grenade idea, more of a mine, really, and it worked! It worked real well, actually. I’m proud of it. Misjudged the range a bit, though. Made myself into a bit of a pincushion. Was wondering if you’d be willing to help me out.”

“You have a ghost. Use it.”

“Nope. Not gonna happen. But, if you’re busy, that’s fine. I’ll deal.”

“I… do you even have antiseptic there? Bandages?”

“Yeah, a bright light and tweezers too, just need you to be the hands.”

“I am on my way.”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

...

RECORDING 77456.5 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“Ow.”

Plink.

“Do you prefer I stop?”

“Nope I prefer you keep going.”

“Then stop squirming.”

“It hurts.”

“You have punctured over one third of your body with foreign objects. Of course it hurts.”

“Ow.”

Plink.

“Upon cursory examination, that appears to be a shell casing.”

“Yeah I threw some in there. Ow.”

Plink.

“And this one… a finishing nail? From carpentry?”

“Yeah, tossed that in there too, whatever I had lying around, really. Ow.”

“A metal screw. Not pointed. For fastening metal, most likely, but rather small. From electronics, perhaps?”

Plink.

“Probably. I wasn’t paying much attention when I stuffed the thing. Oh dammit.”

“This one is curved and deeply embedded. I am trying to be gentle but if I do not pull it out, it is just going to work its way in deeper. It looks like broken glass.”

“Yeah I put some of that in there too. Ah shit. Fuck!”

“I have extracted it.”

Plink.

“That was probably the worst one. Just a few more and this leg will be done. Do you need a break?”

“Nope. Let’s get it over with.”

“I would let you squeeze my hand through the pain, but I need both of mine to remove what you’ve done to yourself.”

“Yeah, I know, thought’s real sweet though. Sweeter than you normally are. You must feel sorry for me. Ugh.”

Plink.

“Have you decided whether or not you will ask me what you were going to ask me before?”

“Nope. Now is definitely not the time. Ow.”

Plink.

“I am curious as to what has you so reserved. You are not normally bashful.”

“Ow.”

Plink.

“I don’t… I don’t even know what that means. But that hurts.”

“I spoke too soon. This one is another that is much deeper than expected. You are bleeding quite a bit. I recommend we stop.”

“Is that the last one?”

“In this leg, yes. I have not yet examined the rest of you.”

“Get it outta me.”

“Can I convince you to reconsider your ghost?”

“No. You take it out or I will.”

“The cleanest way to remove this will be to cut it out of you.”

“Then do that.”

“Why are you so stubborn about this?”

“Because I am.”

“Will you at least get your ghost to give you something for the pain? I am hurting you considerably.”

“No.”

“What about alcohol?”

“I have plenty of that, yeah.”

“Where is it?”

“Second door on the left, back cupboard up high has the strong stuff.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Whiskey.”

“In a glass?”

“Nah. This ain’t a glass kinda situation.”

“I will return.”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

...

RECORDING 77456.6 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“I told you I didn’t need a glass, Moondust.”

“This is for me, when I’m done. The rest of the bottle is yours.”

“I mean, the whole thing is mine, but fine, Doctor Three-Eyes, you can take your cut.”

“I shall, and the alcohol too. Now drink some of that while I clean up the rest of you and prepare the incision site.”

“You say such sexy things when you’re working. What? What’s that look for?”

“You are not normally this careless. What actually happened?”

“I am not in the habit of lying to you, Moondust. In fact, I don’t even know if I can. You see through everything. I do not think I have ever successfully convinced you something was true when it was not.”

“You are not in the habit of lying to anyone. You simply do not state the full truth, constantly deflect conversations, and allow people to believe whatever they want to be true without ever correcting them. It is what makes your methods of deception so effective.”

“You… you really do know me, Moondust. Ain’t no one ever been able to get in my head like you. Ow!”

“Drink more. You are still too sensitive for me to proceed.”

“Get me drunk, in a compromising position, and then stick things into me. I see how it is.”

“Keep insinuating that I’d behave in such a manner as to take advantage of you and you will be left to extract this distorted… spring? on your own.”

“I’m sorry. That was actually out of line. I trust you more than anyone. You know that. I was trying to make a joke and worded that way wrong. Didn't come out as flirty as it did in my head.”

“You are in considerable pain. “

“Don't forget the blood loss.”

“Drink more alcohol you… clumsy fool.”

“That has to be one of the gentlest insults you’ve ever thrown at me. You are being nice to me. What I was trying to say before was more that you are at this point literally trying to get me drunk. I might say anything.”

“Any confessions of undying love will not be held against you when you are sober.”

“Well there goes that plan out the window. How am I supposed to tell you of my undying love so you won't believe me when I'm drunk and I can deny it later if you don't feel the same way so it isn't awkward?”

“I have faith in your ability to be forthright and lewd without chemical assistance. And you have yet to show any reservations about being awkward in my presence so I doubt that is an issue. Also, drink.”

“Yes ma'am. Oh shit that stings.”

“Disinfectant usually does.”

“So let's say, hypothetically, I was truly madly deeply hopelessly in love with you, what would be the best way to go about getting you to love me back? Hypothetically.”

“Let me see the bottle. Not enough. Drink. Hypothetically, your premise is flawed, rendering the logic of the entire question unanswerable.”

“Come again?”

“There is an inherent assumption in what you have asked, hypothetically, which would itself be, again hypothetically, incorrect.”

“And what's that?”

“The assumption that I do not care for you already.”

“Wait what?”

“More. Drink.”

“Did you just say what I think you just said?”

“I said nothing. We were speaking hypothetically.”

“Ah, because I could have sworn you said you love me. Totally am starting to feel a buzz though so that may have been wishful thinking on my part.”

“Clearly someone who shows up in the middle of the night to remove foreign objects from your flesh because you are too stubborn to get help from your ghost does not have any affection for you in the slightest. You obviously imagined that. Do you have scissors?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I'm cutting off your pants.”

“Now I know I'm dreaming.”

“Hmmm…”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

...

RECORDING 77456.8 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“Are you ready?”

“Ready as I'll ever be to have a beautiful woman scar me for life.”

“You have more than one life. This is a non-issue.”

“Point.”

“I am beginning now.”

“Fuck.”

“Pausing for a moment here. I've got the object. I have a mostly clear path to pull it free.”

“Ok.”

“I'm going to have to wiggle it. This will be painful.”

“Eris Morn, mistress of pain, I submit to your will. Hurt me you beautiful three eyed witch.”

“Is it the alcohol or the pain that's making you so eloquent?”

“Probably both, plus that undying love.”

“Hold on to something that is not me. Three… two… one...”

[INTERMITTENT SCREAMING 43 SECONDS]

“Did you just freeze my ass with stasis?”

“To stop the bleeding, yes. You have needle and thread?”

“Yeah desk over there, bottom drawer.”

“And I'll find a pot within which to boil water within your kitchen area?”

“Yeah.”

“A clean pot?”

“I ain’t the one that leaves a burned wok lying around unusable for a month. I use my pots. They’re all clean. Trust.”

“Be still until I return.”

“You’ve got me frozen to the table. I couldn't move if I wanted to.”

“You're a resourceful creature. I'm sure you'd find a way if you wished to be free, but please don't.”

“I'm staying put. You say stay, I stay.”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

...

RECORDING 77456.8 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“You keep doin sweet gentle stuff like brushing your chin against the top of my head like that I’m gonna start thinking you like me or something.”

“It is difficult to express reassurance to you any other way when my hands are coated in your blood.”

“If I’m good will you nuzzle my head again? Or is it if I wiggle? What gets me more head nuzzles, Moondust?”

“Be still, Rat. You are messing up my stitches.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re weirdly good at sewing human flesh?”

“No, but I accept the compliment.”

“It barely even hurts where you’re sewing. You really are good.”

“Thank the alcohol.”

“I’m thanking you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know, there ain’t no one else I trust like this.”

“I know. It is an honour to have your trust. One I do not take lightly. I know how rarely it is given.”

“If by rarely, you mean pretty much not at all, yeah.”

“Are you going to tell me what you were going to ask me?”

“Now’s really not the time.”

“I think we have cleansed the last of your blood off of most surfaces and ourselves.”

“You patched me up real good. You make a fine surgeon.”

“Usually my subjects are not still alive.”

“You gonna stay and finish that drink?”

“I had forgotten. Yes. I shall. But first would you like help to your bed?”

“You and me in my bed? I like this.”

“Avoid putting weight on that side. You can, and will, rip the stitches if you exert it too much before you’ve healed.”

“I like this side of you, all sweet and nurturing. If I’d known you’d be this nice to me I’d… nah that was stupid and I won’t be doing that again.”

“Thank you.“

“Still proud of how well it exploded though. Gonna give some of them to Devrim to put around the farm. Should very effectively shred anything that comes to mess with the civilians. I really didn’t think I was in range. You know how careful I am.”

“I know. Sit. I will return.”

“You gonna come back and cuddle me? I’d like that.”

“No, but if you wish, I will sit with you while I finish my drink.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

"I'd expect nothing less"

[SILENCE 8.25 MINUTES]

“Woman of my dreams, bringing me the bottle after putting me to bed. You really are the best, Three-Eyes.”

“Sit up.”

“Ok. Oh hello. You let me lie in your lap like this, you must feel sorry for me.”

“No. There is nowhere else to sit.”

“I disagree, this is half-way to cuddling right here. You like me. Ain’t no one sit like this with someone they don’t like.”

“I sewed your skin. That’s considerably more testament to me liking you than this, and this is at least comfortable for both of us.”

“It’s real nice. ‘Specially when you touch my face like that.”

“Hmmm…”

“I propose a toast.”

“To?”

“Why, to the most excruciating and intimate experience you and I have shared to date. The night Eris Morn sewed up the Drifter after he blew himself up.”

Clink.

“Hmmm…”

“You like it?”

“It tastes like… wood and paint thinner.”

“That’s just the first few sips. Flavour changes as you go.”

“Hmmm…”

“You should visit my bed more often, Moondust, it’s nice.”

“If you wish I will return tomorrow and change the bandages to make sure you aren’t getting infected.”

“I’d like that. You know… you could… stay.”

“And sleep with you in your bed?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell me that doesn’t sound real nice to you too. Not when you’re running your fingertips through my hair like that, like you’re already considering it.”

“Perhaps now is the time to ask me what you were going to ask me?”

“You sure those eyes don’t give you mind reading powers?”

“One does not need to read your mind, when they can read your body language, and between the lines of what comes out of your lips. You have not been discrete.”

“No, I have not. But, if you already know what I was going to ask you, what’s your answer then?”

[SILENCE 3.75 MINUTES]

“That… is worth getting blowed up for.”

“Please do not. Multiple lacerations and shrapnel from improvised explosive devices are not a prerequisite for my affection.”

“Can you let me know what the pre-”

“The pre-”

“The p-”

“You know, Moondust, it’s been a very long time, literally longer than I can remember, since someone was able to make my head spin with just a few kisses.”

“That is more likely being caused by a combination of shock, blood loss and alcohol.”

“Nah. Had all three lots of times. This is all you.”

“You’re trembling.”

“Yeah, it happens.”

“Let me get you under the blankets.”

“I ain’t cold. It’s just you feel so good. You feel so fucking good. Wait, where you going?”

“To take off my boots. Move over and get under the covers so that I may join you.”

“Oh hell yeah, you’re just making all my dreams come true right now.”

“Be careful of your stitches or you’ll bleed all over both of us and your bed.”

“Worth it.”

“Behave yourself or I will leave.”

“Yes ma’am. Ah shit, Eris, I can’t handle how soft and warm you are when I’m this drunk. I’m gonna cry.”

“You are inebriated and injured and I am choosing to stay. Alcohol induced emotional outbursts are to be expected and are a reflection of your trust, which is precious to me. I consider it an honour to hold you as you cry.”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

This is from an ongoing, long, first-draft, Destiny 2 fanfiction thing I have on Ao3 which isn't finished yet (It has an ending planned out, I'm just still writing and posting it - it will be completed eventually - I'm about 2/3 of the way done).

This story, like most of what I write, is yet another battle-couple style adventure involving the Drifter (a charming ruthless rogue) and Eris Morn (a three-eyed badass witch) although it's certainly the most violent and horror-themed thing I've posted on Ao3 to date (my regular stuff tends to be much more fluffy).

These excerpts involve the death of Martini. He is the first to fall victim to an Egregore (evil fungus)-hybridized Ahamkara (shape shifting wish dragon) which is directing a large amount of Scorn (zombie space crabs) and Wrathborn (enraged Geiger-esque space insects), in what was once an asteroid mining colony (Eris, the Drifter, and friends are there to try to rescue what remains of the colonists).

For those familiar with the story, I am including one section at the end that is not yet posted on Ao3. :)

Content warnings for: violence, gun violence, body horror, gore, involuntary glossectomy (removal of tongue), involuntary enucleation (removal of eye), claustrophobia, cleithrophobia, phagophobia, being dissolved by evil fungus, shape shifting stolen identity, blood, perforation by tendrils, inspiration taken from the first and second Alien movies, and general moist wet goopy nastiness

Martini’s small maintenance tunnel shook as Screebs exploded above him, the first few triggering the next, causing a shockwave of Dark Ether and glowing viscera. On his datapad screen he watched several bots go offline and several more darted off down hallways with Scorn in hot pursuit.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing himself a small quiet laugh.

The edges of his datapad began blinking red again.

He frowned and tapped gently on it, trying to figure out what was still coming at him. The Screeb explosions had knocked out all the cameras and sensors in the area he was in.

The blinking sped up. He turned the screen off and began quietly sliding along the tunnel. He had no idea which direction was good but with how fast the datapad was blinking, anywhere was better than here.

A screech of metal was the only warning he had before the floor plate above him was ripped away and Martini found himself looking up into the metal-riveted faceplate of a Scorn Abomination.

.

Martini scrambled on all fours through the tunnel. Ahead was another room. There would be a wall between the two rooms up above him that would slow the thing down. If he could just…

He scrambled backwards as another floor panel was ripped off above him and a huge fist slammed down inches from his face.

He shot the fist with his sidearm. The silencer made his weapon seem even more ineffectual. Dark Ether splashed against Martini’s faceplate. The fist withdrew and Martini scurried back as the massive arm thrust into the opening and tried to grab him.

He shot that too. Small holes opened up in the Abomination’s skin. It didn’t flinch. It probably couldn’t even feel pain.

He needed something that would shoot a lot more bullets, preferably larger ones.

Martini looked behind him to where his auto rifle lay under another open grating. He started crawling toward it as fast as he could. The thudding footsteps of the monstrosity above him kept pace with him, its shadow darkening the spots where the flat metal floor plating transitioned to grating and back again.

Martini stuck the muzzle of his sidearm through one of the grates and fired several shots upwards, prompting a roar and a thud as a fist slammed down, knocking the pistol out of his hands.

Well, it noticed that.

He scuttled toward the auto rifle, ripping open the knees of his suit in his scramble to get there on all fours before the thing lumbering above him.

Martini could see the gun in more detail as he got closer and time seemed to slow down. The rifle sat in a rectangle of light as he scrambled along and the thing above him lumbered after him. The heavy metal floor tiles were the only thing between him and the giant grasping hands which Martini was certain would be the last thing he would feel if they caught him.

Just as Martini got close enough to reach for the weapon a two-toed chain-wrapped foot slammed down, crumpling the gun barrel and crushing the magazine.

.

The sound of breaking glass filled Martini's ears as his helmet was punctured by three long nails.

He dangled awkwardly, suspended by the claws in his faceplate, his feet kicking ineffectually in the air as the Abomination shook him and roared in triumph at having finally secured its prize.

Martini flinched as the monster's second hand gripped him by the shoulder just before his helmet was ripped off and flung aside. He wondered if the Abomination had the cognition to know that it had just removed a helmet or if the intent had been decapitation. Probably decapitation.

This was it, wasn't it? Martini had stared death in the face before. He knew what it looked like. No wild-eyed snarky pirate queen to save him this time around. Hadn't been that bad of a run, all things considered. Shitty ending though.

Martini sailed through the air and his vision went white when he impacted the wall. He heard the crunch of bones breaking and his body fell into a heap on the floor with his legs splayed out in front of him.

He felt more than he heard the stomping of the Abomination coming across the room toward him. The floor vibrated with each footfall.

Martini's universe shrunk. Sounds were muted. Lots of pain. It was hard to think. There was something wet and thick in Martini's mouth. He opened his lips and something soft fell out from between them with a wet plop. Weirdly his mouth still felt full. It was full of liquid. Like he'd taken a big gulp of warm water, only thicker.

If his mouth was open, how was it full?

As his vision came into focus Martini looked down at the floor in front of him to see what had fallen out of his mouth. Red and soft, like a worm. Crescent-shaped. So much blood. The soft red thing shuddered with each step as the Abomination came closer.

Martini stared at the strange wet thing. It was so out of place on the hard metal floor. His mouth was slack. He tried to close it but his lips couldn't quite touch. As the chain-wrapped monstrosity reached him, he realized he should probably not be there. He tried to roll to the side but discovered he was unable to do so. The lower part of his body was not responding to him at all.

Martini wanted to scream. That's what someone should do in this situation, right? But he couldn't. It came out as a gurgle. His mouth was full of fluid but also strangely empty. Oh. That's what it was on the floor. It was the end of his tongue. That explained all the blood coming out of his mouth like a small waterfall.

Martini stared at his own tongue, stupefied by pain. He was very annoyed with it. It should not have left him. It was part of him and should not be separate. It felt like such an insult to see it there outside of where it should be, unattached. Wrong.

Oh man, Olive would be so pissed.

Martini tried to reach out and pick up his tongue with the intent of putting it back in his mouth but he could only manage to paw at it slightly with unresponsive fingers before a huge clawed hand wrapped around one of his ankles and began to drag him along the floor.

No. It was pulling him away. Not this. He wanted his tongue. It was wrong to leave it.

His hands grasped ineffectually at the smooth floor, his fingertips pulling the streaks of his own blood into uneven smears as he managed a soft sad moan.

Martini lost consciousness again as he was pulled along first into one room and then another, his blood snaking back out behind him in a long wet brushstroke, writing the story of where he had been in sanguine calligraphy.

.

In a haze of pain, Martini recognized the ground he was being dragged over had stopped being as hard. It was wet and squishy with lumpy bits.

His unfocused eyes saw blue-green glows all around him. Why wasn't he dead yet? Disappointing. First losing the tongue and now still not dead. What else was he going to fuck up? Olive would be pissed.

Olive… Oliver… Olive…

The fuck you doing over there without your tongue? Come back to bed, Martin, that's an order.

He could feel Oliver's hands pulling him into a sitting position.

Simultaneously the best and worst lover he'd ever had, that jackass.

First mate my ass. Martini answered him in his mind. We're pirates. Ain't nothing superior about your office… officer.

Martini tried to smile but blood kept pouring out of his mouth. Fuck. Olive had always loved his tongue. All those kisses. All the times he pulled Martini's hair and decided exactly where his lips and tongue would go.

Martini whimpered. Everything hurt. Everything around him was wet and slimy and filled with glittering sparkles. He wanted Olive to hold him again. He wanted to sink into those sea-green eyes and rakish smile again. Why wasn't he dead yet? Olive was waiting. It was cold.

Martini's eyes focused on the figure in front of him. It wasn't Oliver so Martini didn't care. He looked away.

Small hands gripped the sides of his head and forced him to look back.

"Hello," the small child Martini didn't recognize said to him in its small-child voice.

Martini's mouth opened and closed. More blood poured out. He blinked slowly. He just wanted to go back to bed with Olive. Why was this child keeping him awake? He didn't even have a tongue to tell the kid to fuck off.

The child smiled a too-wide smile with unkind eyes.

"You want this?" It asked, it's voice shifting somewhat.

It held out an open hand in front of Martini's eyes. A lump of red flesh lay in the small human palm.

Martini blinked. It was his tongue. The child had brought him back his tongue! He tried to smile and nod but all that came out was a gurgle and some bubbles in the blood.

"That is what you wish for most right now, isn't it? You want this? You wish you had… this."

Martini tried to move his arms to reach for his tongue but his arms wouldn't move. They were caught in something soft and writhing.

Slowly, with great effort, Martini managed to nod. Olive would be happy he had found his tongue before the end. What a lovely child to bring it to him.

"You want it very much, don't you? Tell me. Is this what you wish?"

Martini coughed and splattered both himself and the child in front of him with blood.

"Ysssss," he managed to say.

The child's eyes glowed brightly with the same colour as the pulsating cysts surrounding them on the floors, the ceiling, the walls.

"Then you shall have it, O Trespasser, Mine."

A small hand held the piece of Martini's tongue in front of his lips. He opened his mouth and let the small cool fingers slip inside. The soft worm-like flesh felt congealed and rubbery.

In front of Martini the child began to change. Its head grew slightly bigger. Its fingers elongated. Its eyes shifted from blue to brown. Its face bones began to warp and change. Its hair lightened and shortened. Its clothing shimmered. Within a few moments Martini was staring at a mirror image of himself crouched in front of him.

Not-Martini tilted its head sideways with a smirk and reached down to pick up something on the ground.

The piece of tongue inside of Martini's mouth began to swell and writhe on its own.

The thing that looked like, but was not, Martini held a dripping and glowing tendril up to Martini's nose. It was as thick as a finger and seemed to reach out on its own like one.

Not-Martini cradled Martini's head in one hand while gently pushing the tendril against his nostril with the other.

Martini's eyes fluttered and he whimpered at the strange sensation from the protrusion but he couldn't move. His severed tongue twisted around in his mouth getting larger and larger. The fungal growths began to swell and envelop his limbs.

The tendril slid deeper. Martini was tired. So tired. And he missed Oliver.

Hey beautiful, get your ass back here in these covers before I go out there and drag you to bed myself. I didn't save your pretty face from being blown across a wall to sleep in a cold bed by myself. C'mere.

The tendril pushed even deeper and there was a brief moment of pain overwhelming everything else, followed by numbness.

With a sigh Martini felt Oliver's hands pulling him back, holding him close. For a vicious murderer that man sure could cuddle. It was like coming home. Everything within Martini relaxed as he felt himself drifting off to sleep, safe in his lover's arms again.

The sound of submachine gun fire in the next room brought him back to reality. A very specific submachine gun. Modified for speed and ridiculous stability. Wielded by a maniac who had ordered him not to die.

Martini jerked. Not-Martini smiled.

The thing that looked just like him placed a hand on his face and pushed Martini back into a glowing cyst which had grown behind his head. Martini tried to fight back but he couldn't. He felt thick mucus envelop his face as his swollen tongue filled his mouth completely.

.

The metal walls of the corridor leading up to the room in front of Miri had been damaged in some sort of explosion in the past, leaving bits of twisted metal and bare rock. The floor and the one intact wall was covered in the Egregore fungus Eris and the Drifter had warned about.

Miri rounded the corner with her submachine gun ready and swallowed hard. A Scorn Abomination was facing away from her, fixated on a hole in the wall, its massive shoulders heaving. The bloody trail she had been following went through the hole into another glowing mess of Egregore.

The Abomination did not seem to notice her. Miri could see its blue-grey skin splattered with blood as electricity crackled over it. Its over-muscled shoulders completely blocked her from aiming at its head. One of its hands was dripping red from its three claws onto the floor.

Miri fought to keep herself from shaking in cold fury as her eyes zeroed in on the drops of Martini's blood falling to the floor. Martini was hers and this thing had taken him from her. Without making a sound, she took careful aim at the Abomination's back.

She emptied a full clip into it before it was able to turn around.

The Abomination roared and a bolt of electricity shot out from one hand. Miri jumped to the side while reloading and then began stepping sideways, one leg in front of the other while continuing to fire. Her arm was rock steady. Her eyes were snake-like and cold. The gun muzzle stayed stable. Every one of her bullets hit with a wet thwacking sound audible in addition to the angry buzz of her gun. She dodged another bolt of arc energy, emptying another full clip into the hulking monstrosity in front of her.

The Abomination took a step back as its skin absorbed more bullets. It had considerably more holes in it than before, most of which had turned its chest into a ragged seeping crater. Its face was obscured by a metal helmet. After absorbing another clip of bullets to seemingly no effect, the Abomination charged at Miri, arms wide and swinging together to grapple her.

With cool precision she rolled to the side, stood, reloaded, and continued to fire.

Six full clips and the monstrosity began to stagger as it tottered across the room after her. Miri kept ahead of it, slipping out of the way, asp-quick, as it swung at her, still firing. Seven clips and it slid to its knees. Part way through the eighth clip, wisps of Dark Ether slid up from behind the mask and the monster fell still.

Miri waited a moment, reloaded a fresh clip into her submachine gun and began to walk through the hole in the wall.

"Mi-Miri?" A face that looked exactly like Martini's looked up at her from the ground. His leg was shredded. The back of his head was a mess of blood. One of his arms was crumpled at an odd angle.

Miri's snarling face split into a wide grin. "You fucking asshole. I told you you weren't allowed to die."

"Yes ma'am." The mouth that looked just like Martini's mouth said in a voice that sounded just like Martini's voice.

Beside him, a large mound of Egregore shuddered and moaned.

Miri trained her gun on it. It made soft squishing sounds and undulated in a way that was disturbingly human-like, as though it were reaching for them.

Miri crouched down, grabbed the person who looked just like Martini by the collar and dragged him back, away from the fungal secretions.

Inside the glowing pustule which had enveloped his head, Martini tried to speak but his tongue had swollen up many times its size. He could only moan softly again as tendrils worked deeper inside of him, perforating his lungs, digging through his ears, penetrating his spine.

"I didn't know fungus could make noise." Miri said.

"I think... it was trying to... feed me to it," Not-Martini said through smashed and bloody lips.

"Ugh," Miri shuddered. "Let's get you out of here, dumbass."

Martini heard the warmth and relief in Miri's voice, so close and yet too far for him to reach. He tried to scream at her, to tell her that it was not him, that he was here. That she had looked right at him. That she was not safe. But all that came out was a gurgle.

The large pile of fungus shuddered and made an almost sobbing sound as they moved away.

.

[There's quite a few scenes between these sections but they do not involve Martini.]

.

Eris cocked her head to the side as she approached the oddly shaped fungal protrusion. It was human-sized and had an almost humanoid shape. She held her Ahamkara bone a few inches away from it to examine it.

It shuddered and moaned.

Eris frowned.

Egregore did not moan. Something within Egregore, however...

Eris dug the edge of the blade affixed at right angles to the tip of her Night Terror sword several inches into the fungal mass and then slid it in a long arc, creating a flap of fungal material. It oozed dark purple ichor from the cut.

With a flick of her wrist, she turned the sword over, using the flat of the blade like a spatula, flipping the layer of concentrated mycelial filaments back over itself to reveal what was inside.

A human eye. Glassy with pain.

The pupil in the eye shrank and it focused on Eris, then it widened in what might have been... recognition?

The mound of fungus shifted and moaned again.

Eris had just begun using her sword to slice off more sections of fungus when the trapped and partially digested human began shuddering violently.

Its eye looked from Eris to the side behind her. From Eris, to the side, and back again to Eris. Then to the side again. Then back to Eris.

Eris snarled and spun, her glowing orb frosting over.

.

[There's a fight scene in the middle here, but it does not involve Martini so we're skipping that.]

.

Eris clutched the Drifter's trembling ghost to her chest protectively while she scanned her surroundings. She briefly looked for, and failed to find, Loud Lullaby in among the Scorn corpses and Egregore. The hand canon was gone.

Her Ahamkara bone lost its frosty exterior and she sent it hovering over the ground attempting to seek her weapon while she knelt next to the lump of Egregore with the exposed eye and began to cut more of the human within free.

At least, she attempted to do so.

"Hmmm…"

Eris ran the edge of a knife along the area where the fungal tendrils seemed to join with the now blue-green surface of a human jaw. She slowly spread the cut apart with the flat of her blade. Mycelial fibers extended from both sides of the cut.

She placed the Drifter's ghost in her lap and peeled back the fungus covering the side of the victim's face with both hands, hoping to reveal their other eye.

With a sickening plop, a clear jelly-like sphere detached from the blue-green face.  It stuck to the flap of fungus she had been trying to remove, leaving a round cavity where the eyeball had once been.  It reminded Eris of one of the Drifter's pickled onions.

The remaining human eye looked over at the fungal mass Eris had pulled off of it and then back to Eris. The half-digested body shuddered and made a soft whimpering sound.

Eris stopped trying to free it and instead focused on removing the obstruction from what had once been a person's mouth.

Human lips on one side faded to translucent ooze on the other. Eris dug her knife blade in and sawed out the large bulbous fungal protrusion between the lips, digging deep with the point of her blade in a circular, conical incision. The section came out with a wet squelch and she dropped it onto the ground.

The lips, which had been painfully stretched open, closed. The eye blinked slowly. The corner of the mouth which still looked human gave her a small, pained smile. The mouth moved in what seemed like possible words, but Eris could not make out anything intelligible.

"I'm sorry," Eris said quietly. "There is not enough left for me to excise."

She reached out a gloved hand and gently touched the small bit of human skin left under the eye.

The mouth closed and gave her a second, sad half-smile.

"Martini." Eris finally recognized him, saying his name quietly. The smile widened.

The Drifter's ghost stirred in her lap and flew up and down the tunnel.

"There is one last thing I can give you, if you wish it."

The eye looked almost hopeful.

Eris slid her hand into a pocket and pulled out one of the Drifter's thermite grenades. She held it in her hands and lifted it up to eye-level so Martini could see it.

"Vengeance."

The eye brightened in what looked almost like happiness. Martini's lips smiled even wider and he opened his mouth once more.

Eris removed the pin preventing the button in the centre of the disk from accidentally being depressed and reverently placed it within what was left of Martini's mouth.

The Drifter's ghost flew back to Eris beeping rapidly.

"Farewell, friend," Eris intoned, caressing the small bit of remaining human skin once more before standing. "I will remember you."

The Drifter's ghost flew ahead of her down the tunnel in the opposite direction from where it had come from, still beeping. Eris nodded solemnly. The eye blinked again, the mouth continued smiling, grateful.

Eris Morn walked quickly down the passage away from Martini. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of oncoming Scorn.

The Scorn became louder as they picked up her scent, no longer attempting to hide the scraping and scurrying of their limbs. Eris continued moving brusquely forward, not looking back. She held her hand out for the Drifter's ghost and then clutched the small drone close to her armoured chest when it came to her. She sent her Ahamkara bone ahead.

Shortly after Eris rounded the next corner, the ground shook and a searing blast turned everything in her vision a brilliant yellow-white. Charred chunks of Egregore and half-melted Scorn limbs splattered against the wall behind her.

.

Thank you for reading and extra thanks to @xenascribbles for the opportunity to share it with you.

If, by chance, the rest of this story intrigues you (including all the bits with the other characters that I left out of these excerpts since Martini is not the only one having adventures), it can be found here on Ao3.

Xena’s Share Day

this one is for my lovely horror writers :) show me something scary. make me shiver and cringe! i wanna be unsettled!

*this is a horror prompt, so there may be difficult subjects included in shared snippets. read at your own discretion.

[featherfang]

Another chapter is finally out, and it's a whopping 8k.

Let me know what you think! I'll be dropping art for it tomorrow.

[queen0funova]

The other day I had someone say they thought it sounded like I would be happier focusing on writing instead of coding (they're not really wrong but we're not getting into that)

I mentioned the comment to my dad yesterday and he responded with something that really pissed me off: "Well writing is going to become pretty obsolete soon thanks to AI like Chat GPT"

First of all, GPT is a stupid idiot. It can't even write a poem that doesn't rhyme when specifically directed to do so, or when it's told to remove the rhyme after failing to write a free verse poem in the first place.

It's never going to top human creativity. It won't make a rant about romantic attraction wrapped in a prayer to frozen yogurt. It won't pull off Amphibia's Rube Goldberg machine of Chekov's guns. It won't do a good job telling the story of a Latina, neurodivergent, bisexual girl. These are all human things that humans will do better than the stupid AI. I'm tired of people having more faith in Chat GPT than other people

[kuiinncedes]

i complaining :c

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Aieeeeee! I love it so much! <3<3<3

This is one of my favourite things I've written (in no small part because it involves Eris Morn in a corset).

Content warning for anyone wanting to read it: There's 2 chapters containing happyfunsexytimes that are clearly marked and skippable, and they do take on an entire ketch of pirates so there's considerable violence (and badassery) involved as well.

Thank you so much for this exquisite dawning gift! I love it so!

A gift for my dear friend, @imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese.

Drifter and Eris, inspired by Moon's fic "A Dance with Vengeance". The first ever Drifteris fic I read was this one, and I've dreamt of drawing this scene out for a very long time (stares intently at Chapter 2)! I'm happy I finally finished this up hehe.

More importantly, this wouldn't have been possible without the original pose reference from @/278Byaedeok, because I am terrible at figuring anatomy out!

in another world where I had enough patience I would've tried to do a background — or maybe a full-body pose, but I think this will do for now :)

[gaywineauntsstuff]

I just saw someone say that Tim was the only member of the batfamily who didn’t suck at math.

With the exception of Dick (acrobatics) and Cass (body language) none of the Batkids are THAT much better than the others at a certain skill

Yes Jason is a better shot

Yes Tim is a better detective

And on a technical level they’re much better

Sure

But that means that if they have a 0.001% chance of cracking a case or making a shot. There will be a noticeable difference between Tim being the character or say Damian.

Otherwise

Not particularly.

Think of each skill like a normally distributed curve okay with the mean being your average hero/olympian/hacker/genius

Right

The Batkids will be at the 96th percentile in the skill

With the exception of 1 of them being at the 99th percentile range

Unless you are writing something you can comfortably say is complex/difficult enough to warrant drawing attention to the 3% difference. It’s annoying to bring it up

I exclude Dick and Cass

Because Dicks introduction is the fact he can do something the rest of the kids can’t to the point where it’s an identifier within his own story. It’s how Tim found him, a signature only he can do.

And Cass because she is genuinely cartoonishly cracked in her own storyline and in batfamily stuff she’s borderline a mind reader

(Could also argue Jason for supernatural stuff and the all blades)

These are exceptions because yeah

If you told me Jason, Dick or Steph cracked a difficult case in a run I wouldn’t treat it as shocking information

If you told me Tim, Dick or Damian managed a tricky shot with a firearm in a dire situation (like what happens in the Grayson run) it would be interesting, surprising but like not? Shocking?

If you told me that Jason did a quadruple summersault off a building and landed on his feet I’d be confused as shit

And even WITH Dick and Cass the other kids are still FREAKISHLY good at D&Cs special skills but they both have unignorable signatures

This is a very long winded way of saying when an author simplifies a character down to

“Oh look nice flippy one”

“Smart one”

“Angry gun one”

“Pet collector”

It’s annoying because you basically ignore all the interesting overlap

Like guess what Dick literally has a habit of collecting strays (see the rabbit and 3 legged dog he lives with in his apartment in the new run)

Tim is fucking badass and is very good at dealing with explosives

Damian is canonically currently thinking of leaving the family business and no longer being a hero to maybe focus on helping people in other ways

Jason occasionally works with magic and demon bullshit

And every single one of them is a genius okay literally every single one of them could get a masters in physics, chem, bio and history in like 2 weeks flat.

Their stats are stacked

All of them know enough info to be able to do 99% of a task and yeah someone might call Tim or Dick in for detective help or Jason for muscle and restraining backup but in 99% of cases THE OTHER CHARACTERS SHOULD BE EQUALLY competent

[horanghaejamjam]

Jigsaw - {CS}

↪   Summary: You are the lead detective in an investigation surrounding one of the most infamous killers the city has ever seen. Unfortunately for you, Jigsaw knows you're onto him and has played you like a game at every turn, threatening the case and your status. Your determination to catch him finally gets you a lead, only for you to find yourself tangled in a special trap that he designed just for you. Let the game begin.

↪ Pairings: Jigsaw Killer Choi San x Female Detective Reader

↪   Rating: M 18+

↪   Genre: Non-idol/Slasher/Horror movie au/ Suggestive / Fluff/Friends to enemies to lovers

↪   Word Count: 5.7k

↪ Warnings/Contents: References to classic horror movies, mainly Saw, Silence of the Lambs, and Scream. Mentions of death/murder/being shot (not detailed). Seonghwa and Mingi both make cameos in this story with a few other members being mentioned. Swearing and implied smut (MDNI). San being a teasing little shit, makeout sessions, fondling over clothes.

↪ Side Notes: To the wonderful @pinkywritings hi darling I was your assigned Ghost Writer for the @atinyhalloweenproject. This is my first time writing for San and I had a lot of fun with it so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it is so late I wanted to have it out by Halloween but due to the sudden weather change we haven't had power. I tried to make it longer to make up for that so hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and was worth the wait!

I honestly may do a part two to this or an expansion later on because I love the idea of Jigsaw San but we'll see.

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

“Police officials are seeking any leads in identifying the man known only to the public as the Jigsaw killer. He is believed to be linked in multiple disappearances and murders that have taken place around Seoul for the past three months. The victims were all found in various handmade traps and had a puzzle piece drawn somewhere visible on their body. At this time investigators have no leads and are asking the public for any knowledge they may have on this public threat.” 

The reporter's voice faded to nothing as the volume on the TV was lowered to zero. You groaned softly to yourself as you tossed the remote to the side, running your hands through your hair as you sat forward on your couch. It had been just over a month since you were assigned the Jigsaw murder case, the last detective backing out after the man in question threatened to target his family. The case was quickly transferred over to you, one of the best detectives in your field, but it was very quickly starting to test your patience. 

Whoever this Jigsaw was, he was a clever man. He left no trace, no evidence, nothing that would allow you to track him down. You went through surveillance, interviewed the family and friends of the victims, tried breaking down his traps for any clues, but any lead always led you right back to square one. You had tried to be patient, hoping that eventually he would slip up and give you something, but it was starting to sound like wishful thinking. Even worse, he knew who you were and started calling you out directly. You would find notes addressed to you, pictures, voice messages, all calling you out and taunting you. It was like he was playing some cruel game with you and you had no choice but to play along or risk losing everything. You couldn’t even walk to work anymore without some reporter chasing you down demanding an explanation or any evidence you had in the case. It came to a point where you only went to the office when called, and the rest of your work you did from home. 

Various evidence pictures and case files were thrown across your coffee table, a few rough notes scribbled in between. You had been looking at the same files for the past couple of hours, dissecting every last word to see if you had missed any connections. Your last victim had been found 72 hours ago, and you knew you only had a day at most before the next one. There were a few things you had discovered about Jigsaw, and the main one was that he worked on a schedule. Once someone was reported missing, it would be three days before their body turned up and the cycle would start again. Whoever this man was, he clearly enjoyed his patterns, and that is what you found yourself looking for, any pattern you may have missed. 

“Working from home again I see?” you practically jumped out of your skin as you heard the deep voice of your roommate behind you, turning around to see his tall frame leaning over the couch. 

“For Fucks sake Mingi you almost gave me a heart attack!” you whined, reaching up to lightly smack at him, “what are you doing here anyways I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” You and Mingi had been friends for as long as you could remember, having met back in high school and staying together through college and your time at the police academy. He was like a brother to you at this point and you trusted him so you didn’t mind if he saw your work, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to. Mingi always found your work to be fascinating and would bug you randomly about cases, which only grew more when you started investigating Jigsaw, though you assumed it was just because you got to bring your work home now. Just as you predicted, he made his way to the other side of the couch and took a seat next to you, picking up one of the crime scene photos to get a better look. 

“I was going to stay at Yunhos tonight but something came up and he had to cancel,” Mingi explained, running his thumb over the picture he was holding, “ouch this looks like it would have been painful, what is it?”

“That’s one of Jigsaw's latest traps,” you answered, snatching the photo away from him, “I’m looking through it to see if I can find any missing clues.” 

“Have you found anything?”

“Sadly no, he’s very good at covering his tracks. It’s been a month and we still don’t have any leads on this guy, it’s like he’s a ghost or something.” Mingi hummed softly as he continued to look through all the pictures, careful not to mess them up knowing you would yell at him if he did. 

“Now I’m no expert but, are you sure you’re only looking for one person?” he asked, catching you off guard. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all these crime scenes you’ve shown me have been pretty big and this says it only took three days, seems like a lot of work for one person if you ask me.” Mingi explained, “and that’s why your patterns wouldn’t line up like you want them to.” You blinked up at him dumbly for a moment as you processed his words, looking back down at the file you had basically memorized by this point. You didn’t want to admit it, but Mingi had a point. 

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea,” you muttered. 

“I can be helpful sometimes you know,” he bragged with a laugh, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t have time to retaliate though as you were packing up all of your things and rushing towards the door, “Wait where are you going?”

“I need to check on something, don’t wait up for me!” you called back, pulling on your coat and running out the door as he called after you. In your rush you hadn’t realized that you dropped part of your case file on your way out, nor did you notice Mingi pulling out his phone to call someone as he closed the door to your apartment.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

You made it to the crime scene in no time, an abandoned warehouse located just on the edge of the city. You parked your car a bit away and pulled out a flashlight as you made your way inside, ducking under the caution tape and pulling your jacket closer to yourself as you looked around. The clean up crew had gotten most of the scene cleaned by now, but the trap itself was still there. A weirdly broken mess of chains and blades that you wouldn’t have been able to put back together if you wanted to, making you wonder how Jigsaw even came up with the idea in the first place. You shook the thought out of your head and made your way to one of the blades, leaning down to inspect it carefully. It was sharp with a curve to it, but almost messy in design as if it was handmade. To test that theory you took a look at another one and noticed the same thing except this one was thicker and less curved despite being set up the same way. The chains themselves were also a bit sloppy when you looked at them closely, almost as if they had been done in a rush. It wasn’t as clean as Jigsaw's normal work, and now Mingis suggestion that you were dealing with more than one culprit seemed more plausible. 

You took your phone out to snap a picture just as the door to the warehouse opened, a new light pouring in and a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Over here!” you called back, flashing your light in his direction so he could see you. Quick footsteps made their way towards you before a familiar figure came into view. Park Seonghwa, a senior detective that had transferred over to your department a little over a year ago and assigned as your partner. You had been against the idea at first since your original partner had been killed only a few weeks prior during an investigation gone wrong. The chief had insisted it would be for the best though since you needed the help and Seonghwas cool and more collected nature would balance you out nicely which would prove to be true. Your impulsiveness had driven the older detective crazy a few times, but for the most part the two of you got along well and you could even consider him a friend. He was wearing a long black coat and matching gloves and his hair was long and falling into his face rather than slicked up like normal, probably because he had been at home resting when you called him. 

“Would you care to explain why you called me out here in the middle of the night when I haven’t heard from you in the last 48 hours?” Seonghwa questioned, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone. 

“I’ll make it up to you but I figured this couldn’t wait,” you muttered, going back to inspect the chain again, “I’m trying to prove a theory about something.” 

“That theory being?”

“What if Jigsaw isn't working alone?” you challenged, “what if it’s more than one person, that would explain why nothing lines up.” Seonghwas eyes widened a bit and you could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?” 

“Oh nothing,” he brushed you off, “what made you so convinced of this new theory? Did you find something?” You froze for a second, not wanting to expose yourself for letting a member of the general public view the case file. 

“Just a hunch,” you lied, “but I mean look at the way this trap was built, it's messy compared to the others, almost as if it was made by someone else.”

“Or maybe Jigsaw just ran out of time and rushed on it,” he argued. 

“Can you just humor me for five seconds Seonghwa,” you groaned, “maybe I’m wrong yes but isn’t it at least worth looking into?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes but gave in, walking to the other side of the trap to get a better look. You were too distracted by your own work to pay much attention to him, meticulously looking through every detail of the trap despite not actually knowing what you were looking for. Your instinct was telling you that there was something there you were overlooking, something that was hiding in plain sight, you just had to figure out what that was. 

“Hey Y/N,” Seonghwa called out after a few minutes, “I think I found something.” Your head shot up and you quickly dusted yourself off before making your way over. Seonghwa was standing in the corner of the warehouse holding what looked to be a tape recorder. “I found it tucked away over here, may have gotten knocked around during the investigation,” he explained. 

“Does it say anything?” you asked, taking the recorder from his hands and pressing the play button. There was only static for a moment before a robotic voice spoke up, like someone was speaking through a voice changer. Despite that, you couldn’t help but feel like the voice seemed familiar to you, but it was hard to tell through the editing. 

“Hello Detective Y/L/N,” the tape addressed you, sending a chill through your body, “these past few weeks you have been running around in circles trying to discover who I am. You have been closer to the truth than you realize but you always end up blindsided by your work and, as a result, you overlook the answer that is right in front of you. I have enjoyed silently watching you up until this point but now it is getting quite boring so why don’t we make this a bit more fun? Do you like games, detective? I hope you do because I want to play a game with you. I have left a riddle for you, the answer to which will tell you all you need to know about who I am and what I do. You have 48 hours to find the riddle and tell me the answer or you will find yourself and those closest to you in a very undesirable situation. The timer starts the second this recording ends, let’s hope you are as clever as everyone says you are. Let the game begin.” 

  You felt your blood run cold as the tape came to an end, barely registering Seonghwas hand on your shoulder as you tried to process everything you just heard. Seonghwa tried talking to you but you ignored him, pushing his hand off and rushing back to your car, your partner not far behind you. 

“Where are you going? We should report this to the office first!” he called after you. 

“What good is reporting it going to do? You heard him Hwa I have 48 hours to figure out who this guy is or we’re all screwed, I can’t waste time.”

“So what you’re going to rush into something and get yourself killed?” he argued. 

“Better than doing nothing and getting everyone else killed,” you snapped back, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find this riddle he’s talking about.” Seonghwa called after you again but by this point you had gotten in your car and were already making your way back to your apartment. Part of you felt like going home was a bad idea, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling you to go there. The same feeling of familiarity that you got hearing the tape returned, making you feel more and more uneasy as you pulled into your apartment complex. Like you knew who Jigsaw was and yet the image of his face was blurred any time you tried to imagine him.

Mingi didn’t seem to be home when you got back, his shoes were gone and the light was off. You couldn’t focus on that though, as your attention was drawn to the stack of papers placed neatly on your coffee table. You carefully walked over and looked through the pile, recognizing pictures from all the different crime scenes you had investigated so far, each one marked with red ink. 

‘Y/N, doesn’t this random pattern seem a bit too random?’

‘This is quite close to home don’t you think?’

‘The truth has been in front of you the whole time.’

‘Why do I do what I do?’

‘Did you miss me?’

You ran your hand through your hair as you continued looking through the pictures, realizing that the riddle was basically going to send you on a scavenger hunt. It would take forever for you to go back through each crime scene and look back through everything to find out what he was talking about. Even worse, it was pretty late and you could feel exhaustion slowly taking over you, slouching over the coffee table and eventually laying against it as you fell asleep trying to decipher the riddle. 

You were jolted awake by the sound of your phone vibrating, groaning softly as you sat up and reached into your pocket for the device. You half expected it to be a call from Mingi or Seonghwa, but instead you were greeted with the same robotic voice from the night before. Only this time, you were able to hear his actual voice a bit more and it was one you swore you had heard before. 

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty, I hope my riddle didn’t keep you up all night,” the voice immediately woke you up, straightening your posture as you looked around. 

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“Aww I’m almost offended you don’t remember me, we go way back you know,” the voice responded, “I’ve missed you Y/N, and even if you don’t remember me now I know you miss me too.” You paused for a moment at his words before realizing now was not the time to worry about that. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“That. my dear detective is for you to find out, you always did enjoy the thrill of a good challenge didn’t you? I figured you would have solved my puzzle by now but since I believe in giving people a fair chance I’ll give you another clue. One of those puzzle pieces doesn’t quite belong, once you find the answer I will be waiting for you in the place we last met, don’t keep me waiting Doll.” With that the call ended, causing you to groan in frustration and toss your phone to the side. 

“I’ve had about enough of these damn games,” you huffed, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You looked through the pictures again before one in particular caught your eye. It wasn’t one of the Jigsaw crime scenes, but instead it was a picture of an older house, one that you recognized from your last murder investigation with your old partner, San. The memories slowly came back to you and that’s when it finally clicked for you, the puzzle and the reason the voice sounded so familiar to you. That was impossible though, San was dead, you had been at the hospital with him when the doctors told you there was nothing they could do. There was no way that San was still alive, and yet you would recognize his voice anywhere. Shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and stood up, calling Seonghwa and telling him to meet you at the house in question as you left your apartment and got in your car. The whole ride there you tried ignoring the feeling of dread that came over you, hoping that your intuition was wrong. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

Seonghwa was already at the house before you got there, leaning against the wall with a blank expression. “I take it you found the answer to your riddle?” he asked as you walked past him, leading him inside. 

“As much as I hope I am wrong I think I did,” you confessed, “and if I’m right the clue we are looking for should be here somewhere.” Seonghwa stood still in the middle of the room as you frantically looked around, digging through his pocket and following your movements with his eyes. 

“This isn’t one of the crime scenes,” he pointed out, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Jigsaw said to find him at the place we last met and this place was the only one pictured that wasn’t one of the crime scenes,” you explained. Seonghwa hummed softly at your answer, but you ignored him as you continued looking around. 

“Why here then, what’s so special about this place?” you froze for a moment at the question, an action that didn’t go unnoticed. 

“This was the last place I investigated with my first partner,” you answered, “he was shot during the investigation and I thought he was dead but I’m starting to think I was wrong.” 

“You think it’s him,” Seonghwa stated rather than asked, to which you nodded. 

“I don’t know why he would do such a thing, but it all lines up.” Seonghwa sighed and glanced down at his watch before making his way towards you. 

“I’m surprised you know, you solved the riddle faster than we thought you would, we’re a bit ahead of schedule.” His words made your blood run cold, freezing as your head turned to look at him. 

“What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry about this Y/N,” Seonghwa apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe, “just know I don’t make the rules, I’m just the delivery guy.” Before you could react to his words he had grabbed you and injected you with what you assumed was some kind of anesthesia, your body going limp in his hold almost immediately and your vision going black. The last thing you remember hearing was his voice and footsteps approaching before you completely lost consciousness. 

When you returned to consciousness the first thing that you noticed was that you couldn’t move. Your arms and legs were handcuffed to a chair that also appeared to be bolted to the floor so you couldn’t tip it over. Tugging at your restraints, you glanced around to find that you were in some sort of workshop, various trap parts and gadgets tossed around multiple workbenches. At the front of the room were what appeared to be security monitors, each watching different parts of the city that you could just barely make out. 

“I have to hand it to you Y/N,” a voice said from behind you, “the last detective didn’t make it nearly as far.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the room before a figure appeared in your vision, wearing a full body red and black hood. Even though his face was covered by the hood, you could feel the presence of your former partner.

“How, I thought you were dead,” you whispered, not sure what to feel at the moment. In any other circumstance you would be over the moon to know he was alive, but how were you supposed to feel knowing he was the serial killer you had been anxiously tracking down. Shock, betrayal, anger, sadness, confusion, all of these emotions swirled through your brain like an endless whirlpool, pulling you in deeper and nearly bringing tears to your eyes. 

“Everyone did,” San replied, turning away from you to face one of his work benches, “the doctors said it was a miracle, that no one thought I would make it through the night let alone make a full recovery.” You could hear him messing with something, but couldn’t see what it was, struggling to look past his shoulder as he continued talking, “I tried to find you after you know? I thought you were the only one left that cared about me, and yet even you managed to turn your back on me.” 

“I always cared about you,” you argued, “that’s why I’m trying to understand why San, why did you do this?” It was at this point that he finally turned to face you, pulling the hood back so you could see him properly. He looked almost the same as you remembered, but there was a cold gaze in his eyes that almost made him feel like a stranger. This wasn’t the warm hearted and cheerful person you used to consider a friend, he was a killer. Despite this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from falling for his familiarity, almost as if you could convince yourself the old San was still in there, somewhere. 

“You never realize just how valuable life is until you are inches away from death,” he explained, “the adrenaline and the fight to survive, it almost feels like you are being reborn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how corrupt the world we live in truly is, because no one really knows how to appreciate the life they are given until it is nearly taken from them. You may not understand it now but trust me my methods will help make the world a better place.”

“You’re killing people because you want them to appreciate life?” you questioned, wondering if he was actually being serious. There was no way a person's mind could be that twisted, right? 

“You think I’m a killer?” San asked, not needing a verbal response since your glare was enough confirmation, “that’s where you’re wrong you know. I have not killed anyone, all of my games are survivable as long as the player has the will to fight for it. Those who failed the games basically killed themselves.” You wanted to argue that putting people in these death traps still made him a killer but he cut you off, “Seven people have won so far, seven people who had that will to live and had the chance to be reborn. They understand what it truly means to be alive and now they help me spread my message. You may not understand me now, but I really do hope that you will be the next.” 

“So what, am I the next person that gets to be put in one of your death traps then?” you groaned, tugging at your restraints. San pouted a bit but shook his head. 

“Your game began the minute you took the case from Detective Kim,” he explained, “you and I always seemed to have an understanding so I had hoped you would pick up on my clues and join without a fight, but you were far too stubborn to listen. Eventually I had to cut my losses so I had my apprentices plant fake evidence to finally get you here, it was the only way.” Your heart dropped a bit at the word apprentices, your mind immediately going back to Seonghwa and how he was the one who brought you here. 

“So you’re telling me the whole time,” you trailed off. 

“Seonghwa was working for me, yes, Mingi as well, they both survived my games and agreed to help with the cause and when you took over my case I knew I could use them to guide you in the right direction,” San explained. He took a moment to glance at a clock on the wall before sighing and making his way over to you. San rested his hands on the arms of the chair and used them to prop himself up so he was leaning over you, “As much as I have enjoyed our little chat I’m afraid we do not have much time. I really do like you Y/N so I will give you a choice. Join me and together we can help change the world for the better.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged. 

“Well then I guess we’ll have to play a game,” he hummed, leaning away from you, “The second I walk out of this room it will lock and a timer will start. Behind you are two doors, each with a different combination, one door will lead you to the exit, and the other will lead you to me. If you choose to leave then you will be free but you will lose your chance to catch me. If you choose to come after me, then you have a chance to learn the truth at the risk of your freedom. The combinations are hidden in this room and you will have exactly one hour to find them and leave through the door of your choosing, and trust me you don’t want to know what will happen if you run out of time.” San chuckled softly before pulling away and walking behind you, “This is your last chance to accept my offer Y/N, I would hate to lose you like this.” He waited for a moment but when you didn’t respond he sighed, “Very well, let the game begin.” You felt him place something into your hand, which you quickly realized was a key, before the door slammed shut and San was gone. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

It didn’t take you long to unlock yourself, taking a second to rub your wrists as you stood up and made your way cautiously around the room. You did your best to stay calm and not look at the clock as you examined the doors and then looked around for the combinations, which you quickly realized were hidden on his tools. The question was, do you free yourself and turn your back on the case, or do you risk it all and try to go after San. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just get out of there and not look back, and yet you quickly found yourself moving on autopilot. Before you could really process what you were doing, you had entered the code for the door labeled “Truth” and ran through it, stepping into a dark hallway and letting the door lock behind you. 

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading forward, placing your hands against the walls to help feel your way through the space. All the doors were locked until you came to one at the very end that was cracked open, revealing what looked to be a makeshift office space, with nothing but a desk and filing cabinet in the room. You poked your head through first, looking around for any sign of life before slowly stepping inside and making your way to the desk, only to gasp as you felt another body pin you to it. 

“I knew you would come after me,” San whispered, spinning you around so that you were facing him. Your body was pressed between his and the desk, his arms caging you on either side as your eyes locked. 

“I can’t let you get away with this,” you argued, trying to wiggle away from him but San was stronger so he held you in place. 

“Come on Doll, you and I both know that’s not why you came after me,” he teased, “maybe it was at first but if that was the case now you would be fighting me harder.” He was right, even if he was stronger you knew you could at least hold your own enough to get him away or subdue him long enough to call for help. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually fight him off, struggling against him enough to save your pride but not enough to actually push him off. “So tell me,” San continued, “why did you really come after me, was it because you were curious about my work? Or, was it because deep down you missed me?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer, your body having reacted before your mind could catch up. 

“This isn’t right,” you argued, reaching your hands up to push at his shoulders. 

“And yet here we are,” he teased, backing up enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together and your arms instinctually made their way around his neck which made him chuckle. “I always knew you were special, you understood me in a way that no one else ever did. Stay with me, nothing will be able to come between us.” San leaned down until your lips were centimeters apart, his breath tickling your lips with every word. You tried not to give into him, knowing that this was wrong, but you also couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you just from being near him. You had always cared for San when you two were partners, hell there was even a time where you could argue that you did have a crush on him. That was back then however, when he was the sweet and easy going detective that decorated his desk with mini plushies and would whine if you forgot to get him a pastry on your morning coffee runs. This version of San wasn’t like that, even if the allure was still there, he was cold, twisted, and a killer. 

“I can’t do this,” you argued, “you’re not the man I once cared about.” You tried to turn your head away from him, but he gripped your chin to force you to look at him. 

“Yes I am, behind all of this it is still me and I can prove that to you,” he whispered, “just let me show you.” When you shook your head again he huffed, loosening his grip for a moment before it tightened again, “Fine then, how about another game?” 

“I already won your stupid game though!” you challenged. 

“Yet you still haven’t learned,” he fought back, “the least you can do is give me a chance to convince you. If you don’t give in then I will go with you to the station and turn myself in, but if I win then you quit being a detective for good and you stay with me.” You gave him a questioning look, at this point more than positive that he had gone insane. However, if playing his dumb games meant putting an end to Jigsaw, then you were more than willing to oblige. 

“Alright fine, deal,” you reluctantly agreed. You only had a moment to register Sans smirk before he was pulling you against him again and connecting your lips. One hand stayed pressed against your back to keep you against him, while the other tangled itself in your hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction out of you. The kiss wasn’t rough or forced like you had expected, instead it was gentle and passionate, like he wanted to take his time with you. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and you began to slowly melt against his movements. You kissed him back and allowed him to have more control, whining softly against his lips when he tugged a bit harder at your hair. Your own hands trailed down his body, tracing his shoulders and chest for a few moments before daring to go a bit lower. San groaned as he felt you palm him over his robe, tightening his grip on your hair and deepening the kiss as his own hand reached down to grab at your thighs and your ass. 

All your resolve melted away at his touch and you found yourself giving into him completely, relishing in the way he invaded your senses. All rationality had left completely, replaced with an unusual desire as San explored your body. As desperate as he was, his touches remained soft and left you craving more whenever he pulled his hand away. San walked you back until you reached the desk, lifting you up enough to sit you on top of it and slotting himself between your thighs as he finally pulled away. You only had a second to catch your breath before you were pushed back slightly and pinned down by your hands. San hovered above you with a knowing smirk, taking a moment to enjoy your flustered expression before leaning down to whisper directly in your ear. 

“Looks like I won. Game Over!” 

Ateez taglist: N/A

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[bellobambino]

The Claim That Broke the Camel's Back

828 words

Summary: Frustrated CS student, Luigi Mangione, battles the maddening bureaucracy of his insurance company while juggling midterms and back pain. An underwhelming trip to Panda Express inspires him to make a change. Luigi's POV Author's Note: I could write about incompetent insurance reps all day. My whole life is working with this broken fucking system. Free Luigi.

I'm on my third cold brew of the day to get ready for this evening Machine Learning lecture. I'm wired, to say the least. I've written down a few questions I have for the professor that I'm hoping will be covered by the midterm review he's “gifting” us today. 

"Good evening, folks!" he booms, addressing the class. There’s a few murmurs from some students giving a half hearted hello. "I was debating whether or not to make a midterm review for this section of the course. Considering your test scores from February..." 

My phone vibrates with a 1800 number I know all too well. Dammit. I've been waiting a whole week for them to call me back about this billing mistake. I can’t believe they’re calling right now, but I have to settle this billing issue. I sigh, and claw my way out of the row of backpacks and purses, answering the phone as quietly as possible.

“Hello, this is Luigi.” I spit it out like I've said it a thousand times, flinging open the back door to the main hallway.

“Hi, Luigi, this is Tiffany calling from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I’m returning your call about a claim you want to appeal.”

Appeal? Appeal. Because nothing says "customer service" like making me clean up a mess they made and then gaslighting me about it.

I’m whisper-shouting now, rehashing for the millionth time how I never got the bill they insist they mailed to an address I haven’t lived at since MySpace peaked. Tiffany’s hitting me with the most insincere “mm-hmm”s—" i've ever heard.

“Why did you send the orthopedic bill to my parents’ house? I don’t live there,” I say, trying to keep the vein in my temple from exploding.

“Mr. Mangione, can you confirm your address for me, please?”

Confirm my address? I swear to God, these people couldn’t find their own ass with both hands and a Garmin. “Which address do you have on file for me? Because you’re sending this bill to Maryland, and I live in Pennsylvania.”

Tiffany pauses like she’s consulting the Oracle of Delphi. “Mr. Mangione, I’ll need you to confirm your mailing address in order to continue discussing your account.”

Breathe, Luigi. Breathe. “Fine. 212 Fairway Lane, Baltimore, Maryland, 20906.”

There’s the familiar clackity-clack of her keyboard, a sound I’ve come to associate with malicious incompetence. “Okay, Mr. Mangione, can I put you on hold?”

“Hold? You guys are killing me. I’m a full-time student; you called me in the middle of a lecture.”

“I’ll need to review your account information in order to transfer the case to the billing department.”

Hold on. “You’re not the billing department?”

There’s a pause so thick you could spread it on toast. “This is the claims department.”

I could scream. I peek through the window of the lecture hall door. The TA’s handing out the review sheet, and I’m out here playing phone tag with someone who doesn’t even have the power to solve this issue. “Alright, Tiffany, can you just give me the billing department’s direct line? So I can call when i'm not in class.”

She rattles off a number. I punch it into my phone notes like I’m defusing a bomb. I thank her—halfheartedly, because I was raised right- and hang up.

I'm back in my seat, having missed the professor going over test expectations. I unlock my phone and look at the number Tiffany gave me. Wait. I look at my recent call log.

No way. It’s the exact same number I’ve been calling for weeks. The member services line. An automated phone directory service that will "connect you to the best department", but only sends you in circles for hours just to disconnect you when you’re waiting to speak with a supervisor.

They’ve already threatened to send the bill to collections—a bill I’ve never even seen. They told me the procedure was 100% covered. Now I’m supposed to fork over cash I don’t have for something they said I didn’t owe in the first place.

Back at my dorm, I'm eating Panda Express alone like a fucking schmuck. The noodles taste like cardboard. I’d kill for my Ma's chicken parm. I gotta call her.

I finish up, and grab the take out bag to throw away the container. 

Oh, thats right. There’s the fortune cookie. I almost chuck it in the trash, but ... maybe Lu deserves a little treat today.

I crack open the cookie, shoving one half in my mouth, and unfurl the little piece of paper.

Be the change you want to see in the world.

I immediately roll my eyes. The change I want to see is insurance companies prioritizing patients' well being over shareholder profit. If I could do anything about that, I would. Trust me, I would.

I tape the fortune to the inside of my laptop, right next to the sticker of Breloom my sister gave me, and fling myself onto my bed. 

Be the change. Maybe I could.

[audreyscribes]

PJO ROMAN DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ⚡ JUPITER/JOVE: KING OF THE GODS, GOD OF (DIURNAL) THUNDER AND THE SKY⚡

Author’s Note: Alright, when I was writing the Greek demigods h/cs, I did keep in mind some of them and their Roman counterparts (i.e. Hera demigod), so when that one anon asked about doing Roman demigods, I got curious and this is my attempt. I do understand why there isn’t a lot but I gave it a shot. It’s not going to be the same for the Greek version and it’s not going to be very detailed since Camp Jupiter and New Rome is more limited than the Greeks, and there are some overlaps between the two, so that’s why. Hope you like it and enjoy! ROMAN DEMIGODS H/CS MASTERLIST LINKS: [TUMBLR] // [AO3]

You’re going to be held in high regard since your godly father is Jupiter Jove himself. The King of the gods, chief deity of the Roman state, Central member of the Archaic Triad, Capitoline Triad; guardian of the state with Juno and Minerva, and the Dii Consentes. You’re respected based on the premise that Jupiter is basically head honcho of the Roman state. However, this brings a lot of pressure as people expect you to be a leader and be just like Jupiter, and be the embodiment of Roman values. 

You’re probably either more composed or learn how to be more composed with your emotions and actions; not only reflecting how the Roman gods are more strict, disciplined, responsible, and calm; but because of your environment. You’re the child of Jupiter so they automatically look to you as a figure of leadership which means they’re always watching you.

In terms of power, between Greek and Roman demigods, I have this idea that Greek demigods have more broad and abstract range while Roman demigods have a more limited yet technical use with more accuracy. So compared to a child of Zeus whose powers have lightning and thunder which means general electrokinesis; as a child of Jupiter your powers are more refined, so you can pull off more tricks and technical control. Hey, that means you can fly more in a barrel roll, breaking the sound barrier while the children of Zeus can just generally fly. 

Another power as a child of Jupiter may have is light based powers; based on one of Jupiter’s epithet as Jupiter Lucetius (Of the Light) where he was esteemed as purveyor of the universe. It makes sense if you consider lightning having the word ‘light’ and lightning does produce ‘light’, so unlike a child of Apollo, your light is more lightning in nature then the rays of the sun.

On a more not so serious note, you find yourself saying “By Jove!” more often than not; not only as a sign of exclamation of surprise or emphasis, but also because Jupiter is also called Jove, so you’re basically required to say something like “my god! or “good god”.  Then again, everyone else says that, aside from “by gods” or some variation of it, so you’re constantly on edge or wincing because they’re basically yelling “Your Dad!”

I have a feeling that the people of Rome see the Gods more as figures while the Greek see the gods as representation of their domains. So you’re going to be seen as either Jupiter himself or the representation of Roman values and rites; which makes you being pushed into the head of politics, management, and the such.

Following above, it feels like a very high school drama; where you’re the Prom Monarchy, the popular kid. I mention about the pressure but it also extends to your social life; there’s going to be unspoken and spoken words of who you should be hanging out with, who not to associate with and whatnot. In terms of your love life, like Jason and Reyna being expected to be together romantically, you also have the same treatment. Either it’s someone of your station or above it, in terms of respect to your parentage, and so forth.

In terms of demigods or legacies, you’re often pushed together with a child of Venus, due to Venus being the ancestor of the Roman people through her son Aeneas who survived the fall of Troy and fled to what is now Italy, and Julius Caesar as well. And when there’s news of a child of Hera/Juno? Oh Jove.

If it’s a child of Hera, all of the senate immediately begins to plan a political debate on how you and the child of Hera get together, or should they send a word of decree or plan a war to seize them. If it’s a child of Juno, I’m so sorry but you’re definitely forced to be with them because the two of you are the living representation and figures for the people of Rome, and the two of you existence together is a sign from the gods.

Despite this all, what Cohort you get into will depend on the reference letters and your honours. Just because you’re a child of Jupiter, doesn’t mean you’re exempt from placement. Much like Jason Grace, if you’re not put into the 1st cohort, expect a ton of criticism. Unlike being a child of Zeus, you have less freedom of existing with every aspect of Jupiter and his associations being placed upon you.

If you’re a legacy of Jupiter, which is more likely then not, you’re not that entirely unexempt from the same problems nor benefits then a direct blood of Jupiter. Maybe less so or not, but the pressure is still there. Of course, with being a legacy, your powers and aspects you have with Jupiter become more individualistic and specific, but nonetheless, the powers that you do have are very strong.  

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Oolong

Look! Look! Art by @dredgenaves for my story!!!

It was early and many of the market vendors had not opened up their shops, carts, or stalls yet in the rubble of the last city where everyone routinely gathered for commerce. Eris wondered if the Drifter also preferred the lack of people or if his insistence that they come this early to ‘avoid the crowds’ was entirely for her benefit. Probably for her, she realized. A crowd, for him, would simply be a cloak of invisibility.

She reached out and touched a t-shirt, rubbing the cloth between her fingertips, smiling at the softness of it.

“That one? Really?” the Drifter asked her.

“The material feels nice.”

“You uh… don’t see colours the same way, do ya?”

“No. What colour is it?”

He waited a few moments, watching her fondle it, and then leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Bubblegum pink.”

Eris drew her hand away as though the shirt had bitten her.

He laughed, picked up the shirt, and held it up against her, eyeballing the fit.

Eris gave him a look that could curdle milk…or blood.

“I have limits, Rat, and that is well beyond them.”

He laughed again and turned to the merchant.

“Do you have this, but in black or maybe grey?”

The vendor pointed to a pile of clothing in a barrel on the other side of a table.

Eris heaved an audible sigh of relief.

The Drifter began picking through it. “This might do,” he pulled a couple of pieces into his hand. “We'll want to add in a layer or two.”

“We don't even know if they will fit.”

“Oh these'll fit.” He paid the merchant.

“How do you know?”

He gave her a sideways look with a half smile and licked his lips.

“Hmmm…”

“Oooo…” the Drifter stopped at a spice vendor they were walking past who was just opening up their stall.

Eris found the cacophony of scents overwhelming and wandered past the spices to an area filled with pottery. The elderly pottery vendor looked at her suspiciously. Eris found a selection of chunky looking mugs and began to pick up individual ones to sense their weight and feel how the handles felt against her hands.

“You should get two.” The Drifter’s voice was by her ear.

“I was thinking of it. What colours are these?”

“That one’s green and that one’s blue. Both dark and swirly. They don’t match but they also sorta go together. They look nice.”

“Very well.”

“Smell this.” He shoved a small bag in her face.

She sighed and inhaled. “Oh… that is nice… is it tea?”

“Yup. They said it’s oo-long, whatever the hell that is. Smells fancy.”

Eris smiled. “It is. I like oolong.”

“Well we got some now and if you get mugs we can put it in them and be fancy together.”

Eris took the mugs she’d selected to the nervous pottery vendor and attempted to be non-threatening. He took her glimmer with shaking hands.

“Now, let's find you some boots that don't look like they're for walking on the moon.” Drifter tugged at her elbow.

“Everything about me looks like it's for walking on the moon… Because I spend most of my time walking… on the moon.”

“Yeah well, we ain’t goin’ to the moon which is why we’re getting ya non-moon shit for those rare times when you ain’t on the moon.”

“Hmmm…”

“This place has a bench. Here.” He tossed her a pair of dark brown leather hiking boots. “Try those on.”

“The feet fit,” she said after a few minutes, “...but the calves and ankles are a bit too wide.”

“Really? Let me see.”

He knelt one knee on the ground in front of her and pulled her foot up onto his leg. His hands slid along her calf down next to her ankle. Eris would have sworn his hands were empty, especially since she had felt all his fingers caress her gently, but there was a sudden weight and she felt an object pressed against her ankle. Something several inches long in a leather sheath.

He tightened the boot laces and tied them off with a bow.

“Nah I think that's perfect.”

He pulled her pant leg down to cover the knife.

“Let me see the other one,” he grinned.

“Hmmm…”

She replaced her left foot with her right as he repeated what he had done.

“You just ain't tyin’ it right, Moondust.” He looked up at her with mischievous eyes. “Try that. Walk around a bit. Make sure it feels good.”

He stayed on one knee as she stood and walked from one side of him around to the other. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingertips against the side of his beard. He leaned into her hand like a cat and looked up at her with affection.

“I think you might like being on your knees in front of me,” she said quietly enough so that only he could hear.

He blinked rapidly, looked away from her, and gave a nervous laugh. “Now that’s a dangerous observation for you to make.”

“Hmmm…”

“Boots good, though?” He stood.

“Yes. The additions are… comforting.”

“Ain’t never met a hunter… current… or former… who thought there was such a thing as too many knives.” He winked at her.

The Drifter spent some time talking with the leather worker while he was paying for the boots. They conversed in a language Eris did not understand. The Drifter seemed to be asking for something beyond the boots and the vendor asked a few more questions before they came to an agreement and glimmer exchanged hands.

Eris looked around at the market. More people were arriving now. More vendors were opening up their shops in the rubble. A small child stared at her over a barrel of apples. Eris stared pointedly back. An adult behind the child called it away. A few moments later it returned to stare at her over the apples again. She couldn’t see the face, only dark hair and eyes wide with fascination. No fear. Only inquisitiveness. Eris stared back, one side of her lip quirked up in a small smile.

“You frightening children?” The Drifter teased her, pulled gently at her elbow.

“No. They are not afraid.” Eris turned to follow him. “I appreciate naked curiosity. It is so much more refreshing than fear.”

A lone Eliksni was setting up a stall slightly apart from the others, pulling out bolts of cloth and placing them on a table. The Drifter tugged Eris’ elbow again and walked over to converse with the cloth merchant in fluent Eliksni. Eris followed, impressed.

She was able to understand the essence of what they were saying but her Eliksni was mostly gathered from reading books with Eido and what she’d picked up fighting Fallen on the moon. The alien language flowed from the Drifter’s lips and hands as naturally as the unknown human language had before with the boot vendor. He asked specifically about colours first, and then softness, elasticity, flexibility, absorbency. The merchant’s bottom two hands pulled out a bolt of cloth while the top two gesticulated regarding the craftsmanship of the weaving and the materials used.

“Hey, Moondust, touch this one for me, will ya?”

She reached over and fondled the cloth. It felt soothing, light, yet strong. The texture was instantly pleasing to her. She gave the merchant a small smile.

“Yes,” she said quietly but firmly.

A portion of the cloth was cut and folded. Drifter asked about the price. The merchant pointed to Eris and asked a question she did not follow. The Drifter nodded. The merchant raised all four of its hands in refusal. The Drifter insisted and suggested a price. The merchant shook his head and protested. Drifter put a small bag of glimmer on the table. Nods of respect were exchanged. The Eliksni looked toward Eris, bowed deeply, and spoke much more slowly. “Thank you,” he said in his own language, and then he switched to theirs, “...thank you. Eido told us. It is… great honour… thank you…”

They both gave the merchant a small bow in respect before turning away.

“What has Eido been telling people?” Eris asked him quietly as they walked toward several stalls containing fresh vegetables.

“It seems the scribe of the House of Light may have informed them how one of their allies took the wind outta the sails of not one, but two hive gods, at great personal risk to herself, and lived.”

“Hmmm… The Eliksni material feels delightful. What is it for?”

“Your eyes. What you have now is all rough and scratchy. I seen where it chafes. This is light enough it can go underneath between what you have now and yer skin. Won’t look different at all, but it’ll be soothing on your face. Feel nice. I ain’t telling you to hide or not hide your eyes. That’s a you decision. Nor am I telling you what to wear, on your eyes or otherwise. But… you should get to feel nice… if and when you want to.”

She took his hand and squeezed it.

The sounds of the market were beginning to pick up, voices all around were increasing: negotiations, call-outs, the occasional shouting. Eris found it all very overwhelming. Outside of combat, she was never around this many people at once. Her pulse quickened. The Drifter was a central point of calm for her in the swirling noise, but the noise was increasing. She gripped his hand tighter. He looked over at her, concerned.

“It is loud,” she explained.

He nodded and pulled them into an alley and around a corner, which helped to cut the noise.

“Thank you.”

“I think we got everything we need at this point and the day has now fully started so it’s only going to get louder. Shall we bug outta here and go tell Sherlock Mamma-bear we’re running off so she does not hunt us down and nova bomb our camp out of concern for our wellbein’?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Back alleys and shortcuts will be quieter on our way back.” He took both her hands in his as he started walking backwards, slightly bouncing on his toes. “This is my bag, Moondust. Allow me give ya a quick tour of the sketchy side of town.”

His eyes sparkled in glee as she laughed and followed him down the alley.

This is the first in a series I wrote on Ao3 called Embers and Stars (aka Eris and the Drifter go camping and then there is violence). FYI a few of the later sections have some nsfw happyfunsexytimes but those sections are clearly marked with skip links for anyone who isn't into that but wants to still read the stories.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

For context, Eris Morn and the Drifter are characters from the video game Destiny 2. Both are 'risen' which means they were resurrected with no memories of their past by small magic drones called 'ghosts.' Eris lost her ghost in the Hellmouth and is now mortal. The Drifter still has his ghost, but hates it. He's around 900 years old at this point and hasn't been the best person for most of that time. Miri is my own invention: a regular human who was found at a young age and raised by one of the Drifter's previous crews: smugglers and pirates and generally bad people. Miri is a pirate herself now and, despite having adopted several of his mannerisms, loathes the Drifter intensely. In this scene (from Road Trip, an ongoing series I'm writing) he's only recently rediscovered her after she let him believe she was dead for 30 years.

“Would’a been pretty awful wouldn’t it? If you’d gone to clean up after the match and found me? Dead ‘cuz of you?” She flicked some glimmer into the centre of the table.

The Drifter picked up his cards but his hands shook. Miri sipped her drink with a vicious smile.

“But as it turns out, your game’s pretty fun. I enjoyed it. Might go back again sometime, next time I’m around in the tower. You really should up your security, though. Just lettin’ anyone in to play Gambit like that… I could’a put a bullet right between your eyes so easy.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked her, his voice cautious and gentle, putting his own glimmer into the middle of the table to match hers.

“Thought about it. Would’ve been cathartic. Satisfyin’. Your ghost would just get ya back up again though. An’ where’s the fun in that?”

The Drifter nodded in acknowledgement of her statement.

“I realized long ago shootin’ you wouldn’t hurt ya much,” Miri said. “Everybody already done that and it wouldn’t even stick. Nah, if I wanted to get back at ya, if I wanted to hurt you in a way that’d be memorable, it’d be so much more effective to shoot myself.”

Eris put her tea down on the table, looking from one to the other. The game was forgotten. The Drifter stared at Miri across the table, his mask gone. The hurt, naked and visible on his face.

“Miri,” the Drifter whispered.

“But I know better now. You’ve changed. Got all squishy… vulnerable. If I really, truly wanted to break you, I know how.” Miri leaned forward on her elbows.

The Drifter swallowed, staring at Miri.

“If I wanna destroy you completely, I wouldn’t shoot me or you."  Miri pointed at Eris.  "I’d shoot her.”  Miri grinned, still staring into the Drifter’s eyes.

The Drifter blinked and Eris watched him transform in front of her. All softness left him, all empathy. He did not stiffen.  His body became more relaxed, not less, in a manner with which Eris was now very familiar. It was the way he was just before or during a battle. His face became a stone mask. He looked at Miri with changed eyes. Eyes that had turned ice cold, ready to kill at the slightest provocation.

Miri threw her head back and laughed.

Eris stood. “This discussion has become unhealthy." She took the Drifter’s hand in hers. "We are leaving.”

The Drifter continued to stare at Miri, waiting for her to make any sudden moves.

Miri sat back and put one foot up on the table, still laughing. “What? Did ya think all we needed to do was talk it out… Uncle Drifty?” She gave the name a childlike lilt. “Have a conversation? Solve our problems with words? Make it all ok?” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she slid her head from side to side, like a snake.

“Germaine.” Eris pulled his hand.

He remained coiled, watching Miri, ready to strike.

“I got lots more words for ya where that came from. Want more?” Miri grinned and took another sip of her drink.

The Drifter continued to stare. Miri laughed harder.

“Enough!” Eris shouted, slamming her hand down on the table between them. A wave of soulfire emanated from her, blowing cards and glimmer off the table, pushing both Miri and the Drifter back away from each other, sliding their chairs several feet apart.

Eris pulled the Drifter to his feet. “We are leaving. Now.”

Eris began chanting and the edges of a portal began to appear.

Miri smirked in her chair, both feet on the ground now. Her elbows on her knees, her drink still in her hand. She raised it in a mock toast to Eris.

“Oh hey, wanna know what the best part about playin’ Gambit was for me?” Miri asked the Drifter. 

Eris stood in front of him so she was physically between him and Miri.

He looked back at Miri over Eris’ shoulder.

“When I sent a large blocker over to the other team,” Miri said, her eyes glittering with malice. “And you told me you were proud of me.”

The Drifter looked away so quickly it was as though she had slapped him.

Eris pushed him through the portal.

The echoes of Miri’s laughter followed them into the Ascendent plane.

Link to the full piece on Ao3

Xena’s Share Day

hatred’s such a strong word, isn’t it? a strong emotion. share with us a passage with that invokes hatred. what draws such an intense feeling out of your character? what or who do they despise?

[soobrat]

breathless; cs

🖱️⤻ pairing; afab!reader x san 🖱️⤻ word count; 4.2k 🖱️⤻ genre; smut 🖱️⤻ synopsis; movie night is the last thing on your mind when San is squeezing your thigh and reminding you of his naughty words on the walk there 🖱️⤻ warnings; unrealistic anal (pls suspend your disbelief), fingering (anal again), piv, breath play, san is rough during and soft in between, squirting, multiple orgasms, slight overstim, dirty talk, unprotected sex (a staple atp), I think that's all

⌨️⤻ I started writing this a whiiiile ago I’m talking years, so sorry if some things sound weird (like the very beginning). Also Moment by Victoria Monet is a good song to listen to during the smut.

Friends with benefits had to start somewhere, right? For you it started with the smell of rain through your cracked window and your plush comforter tangled around your body. You inhale deeply, soaking in the immense amount of comfort you were feeling. All of that Saturday night bliss was interrupted by a loud knock at your window–

Window?

Your eyes shot open, your torso jerking upward upon seeing the outline of a human being in your window. You gasp loudly before realizing it was San. Scrambling out of bed, you hurriedly slide the window open. That impish smile he always sported stops your incoming lecture.

"Give me attention, Wooyung's angry at me and Seonghwa's boring as always." He doesn't wait for your answer, just kicking his legs forward into your room. He maneuvers behind you and before you could turn he's already wrapping his hoodie-clad body around yours. He locks his arms around you, sighing contently. You can't help but inhale the strong scent of rain and a soft hint of his woody cologne.

"You were that desperate that you climbed up to my second story window?" You turn slightly, peering at his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. He chuckles, a puff of air hitting your neck and leaving goosebumps.

"Don't call me desperate, it makes me feel pathetic." You can hear his pout in his voice. The same pout that sparks something in you from time to time.

"But you are pathetic Sannie." You mock his obnoxiously cute act. You unlock his arms from around you to take a shower. When you come back he's relaxing on your bed, hood over his head. His eyes are glued to his phone until he realizes you're present. He peers at you, not moving his head an inch.

"Go brush your teeth, nasty." He scrunches up his nose. You rush over and pull his hood over his face. He pulls it away to show his betrayed expression.

"I just did, dickhead." You mutter, trying to do it again but he catches your wrists. You grunt, trying to pull them away but he just catches them again. With your hands in his grasp, he pushes himself up into a kneeling position.

"You're lying, come here lemme smell."

You hurriedly free yourself and grab a pillow to wack him upside his head. You flee the bed before his arms can catch you but it’s no use. He rushes over to you before you could run away and puts you in a headlock. You growl unconvincingly before biting his arm. He yells like he was mortally wounded and you fervently shush him, knowing the footsteps approaching your door was someone on the way to scold you.

The door flies open with your member, Alice, appearing behind it. She looks at the two of you in silent confusion for an uncomfortable amount of time. Her eyes linger on San. "Don't you have a fucking dorm?!" She raises her hand up, gesturing toward him in a desperate search for clarity on the situation.

"Did you get kicked out of KQ my guy? Why are you always here?" San groans loudly, rolling his eyes before letting you go.

"Alice your nagging is causing me serious pain, leave before I have a stroke." He shoos her away but she'd already slammed the door before she could see the gesture.

"Go home before I call Sean Kim you parasite!" She yells mid stair descent. San's eyes linger on the door.

"I can't tell if she's serious- hey!" He sees you trying to escape and runs after you, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Let's go to my dorm before she actually calls the man."

–🖱️▷

Wooyoung was always so comfortable to be around. Hence why your head was on his shoulder and not San's. You look down at your hand as he interlocks his fingers with yours. He was very inviting, but also extremely attractive in a personality sense. He had your heart beating faster with every look, every touch, and man did he touch a lot. He was always nipping the shell of your ear as well, which you had gotten used to for the most part.

Upon your arrival, the boys decided it was an impromptu Saturday movie night. It would happen every Saturday but due to your schedules, it’s more of a once a month type of thing. You were seated in the living room with four out of the eight members surrounding you on the couch. San had disappeared somewhere and you wondered where he was until you felt a presence behind you. You turned to see San towering over you and Wooyoung. He had two blankets over his shoulder. Wooyung looked at him with a neutral expression.

"I thought you guys were angry with each other, so dramatic."

"He is angry! Look at him!" San exclaimed, pointing frantically at Wooyoung. You glance over at the man, who stares back at you with the same normal expression. You look back at San.

"San are you sick?"

"Sick of you guys." He shoves Wooyoung over by his head. Wooyoung exclaims in disbelief, sporting the cutest look of betrayal. "No cuddles from me or ___ today." Wooyoung warns, scowling at San before settling at the opposite end of the couch.

"Me neither." Seonghwa adds as he walks in with chips. San feigns laughter as he settles between you and Wooyoung.

"Separating ___ and I isn't going to make me cuddle you instead." San snaps his head towards Wooyoung who's giving him a knowing look. "I-I didn't- let's just start the movie."

You peek over at Hongjoong, who's still on his phone despite the movie being on. Mingi and Yeosang’s eyes are glued to the screen, though. You smile at the intense focus on their faces and flinch when you feel a hand on your leg.

Usually, Wooyoung would be the one doing so and you were used to it. Wooyoung, however, was on the other side of San. You look up at his face. When he senses your eyes on him, he slowly turns his head to look back. Your eyes linger on each other for a moment. You furrow your brows at him, but his eyes can't seem to stay on yours. He nips at his bottom lip before regaining the courage to look into your eyes again. Even under the dynamic coloring from the television, you could see that his face is significantly redder.

You gasp slightly when he squeezes your thigh. The look in his eyes was nervous yet determined. You scoot closer to him instinctively, and he whispers in your ear.

"I wasn't joking around earlier."

With his lips dangerously close to your ear, your mind immediately reflects back to your late-night walk to his dorm.

San jetted forward, easily leaving you in the dust. You yell after him but fail to catch up. You hunch over, hands resting on your knees as you catch your breath.

"Fine! If you're gonna leave me I'm going back home!" You cross your arms, cranky eyebrows starting to form. You hear his footsteps getting closer behind you and your expression unwittingly melts into a smile. You yelp as he lifts you up and spins you in a circle from behind. His arms fitted with the thick material of his hoodie feel like heaven around you. The light sprinkle of rain does little to drench either of you, just leaving tiny dots of moisture on both your jackets and filling your nostrils with the scent. You turn your head and catch a glimpse of his face, his prolonged journey through the rain dampening the hair sitting on his forehead. Your eyes slowly trail to the few droplets that linger on his lips. You slap at his arm.

"Hey, shhh! We gotta be careful!" You whisper.

"Says the one screaming." He spins you around once more before hugging you tightly against him. You whine in protest, this hug hurting more than anything.

"I can't breathe."

"Don't you like breath play?"

"Stop using my drunk words against me."

He loosens his grip a bit to look into your eyes. "You want me to do that for you? It's been a while since Joo-"

You interrupt him with a loud gasp.

"What did you just say?!"

He moves his lips next to your ear, brushing against it slightly before his breath tickles at your skin. 

"I can push your face into the mattress." You can hear the grin on his face. You immediately push him away, laughing loudly.

"You're so disgusting!" You run away from him toward the building, hearing him cackle behind you.

San jokes like this normally. He made sexual remarks all the time, to you and the rest of his friends. There was never any sexual tension. You stare blankly at him as you recollect how the remarks made your heart race each time. How could you not imagine it when he spells it out for you like that?

He lifts his hand off your leg, leaves the couch, and disappears down the hallway behind you. You watch, but your legs are stuck. If you leave now it'll be too obvious, and you're way too self-conscious. Everyone seems to be immersed in something. Be it snacks, the movie, or their phones. Still, you employ a precautionary measure just in case.

“Guys is that the bathroom by the front door?” Your announcement earns you a barrage of shooshes, even from Hongjoong who’s clearly playing some game on his phone. “That’s a closet. The bathroom is the second door to your left.” He answers distractedly, still glued to his phone. “Down the hallway.” He points, finally lifting his gaze.

You move the blanket from on top of your lap and make your way out of the living room. No curious or suspicious eyes are cast upon you as you leave, making you confident everything went as planned. Hopefully they don’t notice you’ll probably be back after longer than is expected for a bathroom break.

You carefully open the door to the first bedroom, straining your eyes to search for San. You start to turn once you don’t see him when you feel hands on your waist. Your heart immediately kicks up in speed, just his hands on you making your lower abdomen dissolve into a pit of lava. 

“I was waiting for you.” His lips against your ear again has you boiling over and flipping around to face him. He dips his head lower, demolishing whatever was left of that line you’ve been toeing since you met. There’s no ignoring the tension between you as your faces hover ever so close, the threat to change your dynamic forever too inevitable to ignore.

You’ve been practically vibrating since he put his hand on your thigh. You grab his waist before planting a quick experimental kiss on his lips. You don’t even fully pull back before he’s grabbing your face and melding your lips together. The jittery feeling only intensifies as your lips glide against one another. You were unsure despite officially unleashing a hidden desire you’ve had for a long time. The kiss deepens and your small noises grow in desperation until he’s moving the both of you into the bedroom. You push him against the door, closing it in the process. It was a little loud but you’re too busy trying to shove your tongues down each other’s throats to care.

Harsh breaths are shared between the two of you as your hands ravish each other. You gasp in his mouth when he squeezes your ass, feeling your core weep for him. “I can’t take it anymore, San.” You suck in a shaky breath, eyes focused on his lips. His hair still being a little damp from the rain and his lips a little swollen are what you take note of in the blue light of the moon. Then it’s his eyes with desperation to match yours. 

He smirks before throwing you over his shoulder, pulling a surprised giggle from your chest. He tosses you down on the bed, feeling his pants grow tighter as you turn over and raise your ass into the air. He wishes he could have you on your back, watching you splayed out underneath him with those lust filled eyes. Pushing your face into the mattress would do just fine, though. San pulls your underwear and pajama pants over the swell of your ass, tugging it all the way down and almost off until you stop him.

“What if we hear someone coming? We can’t get completely naked.” You whisper frantically. He shushes you, soothingly unlike his members moments earlier. You feel his soft lips start pressing into the skin of your thighs and you shiver. He kisses all the way up to your ass, making his way closer to your asshole and dripping core. “Want you to be comfortable.” He presses a long, wet kiss to your anus and your guard weakens. You let him take your pants off completely as he repeats the kiss.

A long swipe of his tongue catches just the edge of your vagina, focusing on flattening against your other hole. You groan, peeking your head back to watch him. “We have to be quick.” You murmur, barely protesting as he laps between your cheeks. “S-San.” You mewl.

“Hm?” His voice rumbles against your hole before he starts flicking his tongue against it. No one has ever done this for you and you never imagined it could feel like this. 

“F-feels so good.” You whine, your voice suddenly unfamiliar as you spread your cheeks for him. Both your holes flutter, more wetness seeping from your cunt. He presses his tongue against you, the suction-like sound filling the room is filthy. You can feel his saliva building up and dripping to mix with your own slick. “Oh god.” All you can do is whimper as he goes to town on your hole, providing stimulation so new and unfamiliar, yet so intoxicating.

Your pleasure never peaks, just stays consistently potent until suddenly your legs are shaking and your pussy is clenching. You stutter out curses as you dig your fingers into your ass. San overlaps his hands with yours, forcing a harsher spread as he eats you out through your sudden orgasm. “Fuck– San, fuck!” Your hands fall from your body and you grip the covers as he stimulates you just a little too long. He plants two loud and obnoxious kisses on your anus before standing up. You look back just in time to see the thick string of saliva that keeps you linked until it breaks away.

He walks away while pulling his shirt off, sauntering breathlessly to a nearby dresser. You watch his muscular upper body as he sorts through the top drawer and pulls out a tiny bottle. He walks back with a lazy grin, looking breathtaking under the moonlight. He frees his lower body, shuffling off the remaining clothes and kicking them away. He stands rigid, red and angry from the lack of attention. He pours the lube into his palm before rubbing it over the shaft. You watch longingly as he tosses his head back, releasing a low groan as he twists his hand around.

“I don’t think you need that.” The exorbitant amount of natural lubricant on your ass and vagina were starting to get uncomfortable. 

“Mm, I will,” He tosses the lube on the bed before pressing a finger against your anus, “for this hungry hole.” He pushes the finger covered in lube to fuck into you. Your jaw drops open, head falling back against the bed. You thought this would feel like nothing, considering it’s not as sensitive as a pussy, but it’s an entirely different but welcome sensation. Your hole sucks his finger in, proving just how hungry it is.

“You probably never give attention to this hole, huh?” He fucks it in a little faster, testing the waters and watching as you shake your head. “I’m gonna show you how good you could feel. It’s been too long since someone fucked you right.” He twists his finger, pushing in to his second knuckle and humming at your surprised noises. “Let’s make up for lost time.” He coos before thrusting his finger into you at high speeds, your legs shutting doing nothing to dull the staggering pleasure he’s brought upon you. 

Your back repeatedly curls and uncurls until San uses his other hand to hold you still. Tender kisses on your thighs momentarily ground you but you can feel a fierce fire building. The sudden emptiness you feel has you sitting up. San pushes your upper half back onto the bed before admiring the way your hole gapes a little wider. He digs his fingers into the meaty flesh of your ass before spreading it again, watching your hole beg to be filled. He growls, giving you one last squeeze before hitting you with a barrage of spanks. High pitched whimpers fly from your mouth as you flinch from each slap. “Give it to me,” You cry, sending a finger down to circle your clit. “please.”

He smacks your ass one last time. “Yeah? Want me to fill your greedy ass?” He grabs your hair, lifting you from the bed, groaning salaciously at your eager nods. He pushes your head into the mattress and lines himself up to push inside your asshole at the same time. Your harsh gasp is muffled by the bed, followed by all your bewildered noises as he fucks your hole open. 

Yet another foreign sensation confuses your frazzled senses as you desperately try to get over the initial shock. Once you do it’s like you hear angels singing. You’re reminded of just how much you love the sensation of being deprived of air. The way it clouds your brain and makes you feel like you’re floating. All with a slight burning discomfort that only makes it sweeter.

Your finger twitches against your clit, a touch overwhelmed by all the different sensations being thrown your way. Your ears start to ring, blocking out how sexy San sounds praising you as his voice trembles. His cock had bottomed out by now and you can feel him so deep inside you. Just the thought of his tip buried where no one’s ever been has you quickening your finger. 

Your heart starts to slow and your limbs start to go numb so you let out a warning noise and San holds you up immediately. Your fingers squish against your saturated fold as your eyes roll back. You’re officially on cloud nine as violent waves of pleasure roll through your entire body, leaving you a quivering mess as you cum harder than you thought possible. You don’t realize what position you're in until you come down and feel San’s chest against your back. His body flush against you, still buried to the hilt. “You good?” He whispers, embracing you softly while you surface again. You hum and nod, still unable to speak after the mind blowing orgasm. You chuckle lightly, realizing you’re gonna be filling your ass a lot more after this.

“Good.” San holds you steady as he pulls out of you, making you both groan. He flips you onto your back and smooths his hands up your stomach. He kisses your belly button and moves down to the sensitive space right above your crotch, peppering kisses there until you dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Want me to do it again?” He laughs when you nod eagerly. “Never thought I would like butt stuff.”

“No, I’m filling your pretty pussy this time.” The way he says such vulgar things in such a lovely way is astonishing. “I mean breath play. Are you ready to go again?”

“Uh-huh.” You give him a small smile, feeling excited again. Your excitement spikes when he tugs you closer by your legs. He leans closer and captures your lips, brushing his member against your swollen mound in the process. A mewl is transferred from your mouth to his and you can feel him start to shift. His noises get deeper, growling against you. His hands ravage you rougher as well and it stokes the fire in your belly. 

“You should’ve told me you wanted this so bad.” He nudges your nose with his own and you feel his velvety tip brush your clit. You flinch, it’s still sensitive from the last time you came. “Poor thing is cock starved.” He coos mockingly. Your bite back is lost as he slams inside, leaving you seeing stars with your mouth agape. When your vision clears you see his sinister smile as he reaches for a pillow. “I’ll fuck you until all you can think about is my dick.” He breathes before covering your face with the pillow. Hard, punishing pounding is what follows as you’re submerged in darkness. Your pelvises knock together with deafening slaps joined with the creamy sounds of your cunt.

With your breathing obstructed all your other senses are heightened. His skin is so soft where you’re joined together, and through the sea of your arousal you can just make out the smooth, delicate skin of his shaft moving along your walls. His tip parts you open, starting the process to reopen your pussy for fucking. Just the thought of spending hours with San, restoring your hole to how it once was and then some. San is much thicker than the man previous and you can feel your rim struggling to compensate. 

San pushes your shirt over your breasts to watch them bounce with each smack of his hips. He presses his hand further into the pillow, smothering you just as much as you needed to get you there. Time seemingly slows, San’s voice echoes out and your brain is filled with a thick fog. You tap his hand three times and he stops. He pulls the pillow away, letting you suck in a good amount of air and making sure you’re alright. The minute he sees your feature twisted in euphoria he places the pillow back over your face. He presses down again until your hips are twitching and you feel a tight pressure in your stomach. You choke out a thick whimper as you clamp your legs around San’s hips. The high squeal you let out is fully unintentional. Your stomach is on fire, searing you endlessly as your vagina feels like it’s erupting. San makes a noise in shock, letting go of the pillow and gripping the bed on either side of you. You shove the pillow off your face, thinking you’ve just pissed yourself and gape at the sight.

Your pussy is engorged, squirting all over San’s lower half. Your tummy tightens as you watch San fuck through the pressure and resist being pushed out. You throw your head back, back arching as you’re pushed far past the edge. San rests his palm on your lower abdomen before pushing in, prolonging your explosive orgasm. No noises breach past your throat, just remain trapped as he continues thrusting. “San! I can’t take it-” You squeeze. He finally pulls out, leaving your body to convulse as he bites his lip. He watches you with heavy lids, stroking your juices over his cock.  “Taking me so well.” He praises darkly before slapping his tip against your mound.

He leans back over you, grabbing your hands and stretching your arms above your head. “I’m gonna make a mess of that cunt of yours.” He smirks and breathes a laugh before thrusting back in. He pushes in so easily he bottoms out immediately. He maintains his depth and thrusts shallowly, letting his balls slap against your spent asshole. “Wanna see you while I cum inside.” San drops his hips and plants a deep kiss on your lips. 

With a steady rhythm he moves like water, swinging his hips and arching his back before thrusting back deep inside you. Your eyes trail down his features, finally able to take in just how beautiful he looks while you’re curled around him. The slight shine to his eyes as each drag of his cock brings him closer to cumming. The way his firm expression cracks more and more. If your hands were free you’d trace every curve and mark of his face. His rhythm wavers, his brows drawn together tightly as he examines your face just as you’re doing to him. Finally, he succumbs to the pleasure, letting go of your hand and fisting the covers as he gets painfully close.

You reach up and grab his face and pull him closer until your foreheads are touching. The squeeze of your belly surprises you, you’re gonna cum again. His hips shudder, the heat in his crotch getting hotter with each second. He raises his brows, mouth parting as he feels his cum being pumped from his cock. He lets out an unexpectedly loud noise as he drops his hips one more time. He pushes his hips forward until you’re being lifted off the bed. You shoot your hand down frantically, circling your clit until your cunt starts spasming around his cock. 

He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you close, staying buried inside you as he spurts rivulets of cum inside you. Small kisses are littered along your collarbone and shoulder until he fully collapses, resting his head on your shoulder.

All your concerns about cleaning up and not getting caught fade away as exhaustion takes a hold of you. With San’s arms tightly wrapped around you, you feel safe and secure. Four orgasms later, you’re utterly spent. Plus, all that matter right now is the man on top of you.

[tschulijulesjulie]

I need book recommendations please. I read captive prince and I’m losing my mind.

ooooh gladly!

so first of all, nothing really compares to CaPri, however i do have some - imo - very good recommendations that might have similar vibes.

The Kingdoms by Natasha Pulley - historical (18th and 19th century) Fantasy. Amnesia and time-travelling, with a veeeery Laurent-coded love interest.

The Scottish Boy by Alex De Campi - historical (14th century) Captive/Prisoner and (reluctant) man who has to hold him captive, secret identity, political schemes, revenge, war

Solomons Crown by Natasha Siegel - historical (12th century), Crown Prince of England (Richard Lionheart) and King of France (Philipp II) falling in love despite their countries being enemies, political schemes, strained family relationship to the point of going to war against family members, allies to enemies to allies again

A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland - not my personal favourite but still good, Fabtasy, outstanding non-european-centric world-building, anxiety rep, queer-normative, Disgraced Prince and his guard(s) having to uncover a political intrigue that could dethrown his sister, the monarch, nightly shenenigans in taverns while hiding their identity, forced proximity, kinda co-dependent relationship

Winters Orbit by Everina Maxwell - SciFy, Prince has to marry the widow of his cousin for diplomatic reasons who then gets accused of having killed his first husband, political intrigue, past abuse

Fence by CS Pacat and Johanna the Mad - graphic novels, sports (fencing), YA?, might be an entirely different setting but the character dynamics are reminiscent of CaPri/ you can tell Pacats writing

The Aeneid by Virgil - the great Roman epic. to this day im convinced Pacat might have drawn some inspiration from this (or possibly the Odyssee and the Iliad)

I hope that helps. Thank you for your ask!

[gunilslaugh]

hii ! can u write ab fluffy fluff xh with shorter gf? cs i think it would be so cute😭 but dw you can do it on your free times or when you feel like writing :D

have a nice dayy and thankyouuuww 🫶

Hii! Have a nice day as well ✨

All members _/ • ~ • \_

Summary: How Xdinary Heroes are with their short girlfriend. (idol/non-idol au)

WC:~1.2k

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Gunil thinks you are absolutely adorable. He adores your height. He doesn’t really tease you much for your height. The farthest his teasing goes is using you as an armrest. The two of you could be waiting in line for something then you feel the weight of his arm pressing onto your shoulder. If you don’t react he happily keeps his arm there, but if you send him some type of disapproving look he pulls you into a hug instead. Gunil is actually quite considerate of your height and won't  place things he knows you need on a high shelf. Although sometimes he does want you to ask for his help, so he may accidentally put an item just out of your reach. When you do ask for his help in reaching something he does one of two things. One being he simply reaches it for you. Two being he lifts you up, so you can reach it yourself. Both end with asking for kisses. Finally he loves to back hug you. Holding impossibly close to his chest and resting his head on top of yours. Expect him to be reluctant about letting you go.

Jungsu

He thinks that your height is cute, but he doesn’t actually pay much mind to it. In fact he tends to forget how short you are. If you need his help with reaching something he is actually shocked sometimes that can’t reach it. 

“Jungsu, can you grab that bowl for me? I can’t reach it,” you asked.

“You can’t?” He looks at you surprised. 

“No, I’m too short.” You stuck your arm up showing how you can’t reach the bowl. Jungsu comes over to get the bowl for you, still feeling a bit baffled. He places it on the counter in front of you and places a kiss on your forehead. Pda makes him a bit shy, however he finds that when you’re out in a more crowded area he naturally wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side. Feels content feeling your warmth against him and your head resting on his shoulder. If you ever steal one of his hoodies and he sees how much it swamps you he is once again reminded of how small you are. He can’t help but find the sight to be adorable and sneaks  some photos.

Gaon/Jiseok

He’s not the tallest either, but he is taller than you. Does tend to tease you about your height fairly often, either through actions or words. 

“Can’t reach?” He looked at you menacingly as you failed to grab a mug from the top shelf. 

“Shut up and help me,” you tell him. 

“Mmh, what’s in it for me?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“Just grab the mug for me please?” you asked. Jiseok comes over and reaches for the mug. Before he hands it to you he holds it out of your reach. “Jiseok,” you complain. He puffs out his cheek signaling for you to kiss it. You sigh before lifting yourself up to peck his cheek. Jiseok smiles victoriously and gives you the mug. He loves cuddling you. He thinks that you’re the perfect size (and it makes him feel bigger). He really likes it when you lay on his chest and he gets to wrap his arms around you. He’ll joke that you're like a puppy or kitten, but if you go to pull away because of his comment he’s quick to tighten his hold around you and not let you up. 

O.de/Seungmin

He adores your height, but also isn’t afraid to tease you about it. He doesn’t really tease about it often though, only when he’s feeling a bit mischievous. Likes to deny you kisses when he’s feeling like this. You’re standing on your tiptoes, but still can’t reach him? It almost makes him melt. Key word being almost. He likes to stop right before he kisses you. He either pulls away completely or changes direction and kisses your forehead or nose instead. When you pout at him or show another form of annoyance he actually melts. Ushering a quick apology, leaning down and kissing you like you wanted. Sometimes does the “where’s y/n?” thing. Where he looks over your head, acting like he can’t see you. However with a quick smack to his chest he’s quickly embracing you. He stares at you so adoringly when you’re not looking. He stands slightly off to the side behind you with a hand resting on your waist in public. He definitely feels protective over you. He liked to kiss the crown of your head and sometimes playfully nuzzle his nose against the top of your head too.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun would hardly ever tease you about being short. Your small stature just ends up in him calling you cute. You’re standing on your tiptoes maybe even giving a small jump to reach something? His heart swells with warmth and a smile graces his lips. He enjoys it when you need his help to get things. It makes him feel needed and a bit more manly too. He sometimes forgets about your height too. It will be moments where you’re curled up into his side or being the little spoon while cuddling that he realizes just how small you are. He thinks you’re precious.

“You’re so cute,” he would mumble. 

“What did you say?” you asked, not catching what he said. Hyeongjun would dismissively shake his head. 

“Nothing.” He pulls you closer to him. When you back hug him and snuggle your face against his back his heart malfunctions. He is glad that you’re behind him, so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He is scared of losing you in public, so he holds your hand or walks right behind you with a hand or hands over your shoulder(s).

Jooyeon

You will not forget that you’re short when you're with Jooyeon. Even if his words about your height aren’t in a teasing manner they still find a way out of his mouth. 

“You’re so tiny.” He pulls you against his chest and rocks you both side to side. 

“I know,” you let out, not feeling very amused. 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” He stops rocking you both and pulls away from the hug. “I mean it’s endearing. Your height is perfect for me.” He resumes the previous hug. He does mean perfect too. He loves the way you fit against him. He thinks you two are matching puzzle pieces. 

He likes to ruffle your hair. Helps you fix it though, usually while laughing. Makes jokes about how you should grow taller when you can’t reach things or say things like “What would you do without me?” Likes to use getting things for you as an excuse to get kisses from you. Sometimes he wants a kiss, but feels kinda shy about asking for one, so he’ll put your favorite snack on the top shelf just to get a kiss from you before he gets it for you.

Taglist: @purplelady85 @odesonnets @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses

[thatbennybee]

is branch gonna meet the CS version of kismet? How would it go?

I mean it wouldn't be a huge plot point if they did meet. The Kismet members are Rock Trolls now too, so they wouldn't have met at any point until after meeting Poppy.

Branch still grew up in Pop Village with his brothers. Also it's hard to write for Kismet bc they were kinda just an NSYNC joke shoehorned in at the end so they could release a NSYNC single and don't have any discernable personalities to work off of or change 😭😭😭

...So in short—I don't know, it's not something I'm focusing on.

I'd have to really think about it, and they aren't really plot relevant, especially in this case 🤔