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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge.

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.”

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance.

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins.

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees.

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves.

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt.

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor.

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

#kraven the hunter #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #kraven the hunter x reader #one shot #marvel

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coeluvr · 3 months ago

Note

I've been holding in the question for awhile. But I noticed on several playthroughs that there are a few occasions where someone seems to be following you.

After ikram encounter someone stepped on a twig and ran off before you could spot them.

Then again with namia when she tells you they ran off.

Can you tell me if ita the same person or different people during these times??

Because my brain logically tells me the first time can't be hunter and how would helos even know since he wasn't present. But I'm doubtful it was vincent. And then whoever ran off that namia saw could have been hunter cause stain vincent doesn't seem like he really cares all that much at this point in time if he's cruel.

Also the person who left the flowers and happy bday card had to of been hellos or vincent. Hellos seems like it would be him. But vincent likes art so maybe he has pretty handwriting?

I was curious to know what you could share on this topic?

Hey! Those are all different people actually lol. I feel like it's not that hard to guess if you look at the scenes but I tend to think everything is super obvious so ignore me.

I don't want to say too much but they will all come up at some point!🙏

#coe answers #chaosthecontentcoon

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michellemisfit · 4 months ago

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WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY

Happiest of birthdays to our dear @energievie who created today's birthday themed tag game. WHOOP WHOOP! 🥳

Thanks for the tag @deedala 🎉 @gallapiech 🤩 @vintagelacerosette 🙌

---

When is yours? 1st March

Where were you born? Switzerland.

How do you feel about your legal name? Are you using it online and/or IRL? Michelle is a nice name. I'm perfectly happy with it. I do however absolutely hate the Beales song I was named after. Think it's one of their worst songs. And I regularly forget that I have a middle name, not even cause I hate it or anything, purely because I think it's pointless. It's Aline.

How about your sign? Do you feel it "fits"? I'm Pisces. And I guess so..? I don't really know much about signs, but people who do tell me it fits, and I believe them. @celestialmickey - come and weigh in! haha

What's your earliest memory related to your birthday? Weirdly enough my earliest *birthday* memory that comes to mind is actually my brother's birthday, when he turned maybe 6? And I would have been 3? My parents had a weird thing about getting me small gifts on his birthday, because I was younger and they didn't want me to get upset I guess? Anyway. There's a photograph of him blowing out his birthday candles and me holding a little sheep stuffed toy that I got for his birthday. I remember loving that sheep a LOT! For my first birthday memory I actually don't really have one until about age 6 or 7? I had a birthday party in our party room and my mum made me invite the whole class, even though I wasn't friends with anyone at school. One of the girls gave me a doll as a present and I genuinly just didn't know what I was supposed to do with this thing and had no idea how to react when I unwrapped it... it was very awkward and I'm sure I was less than graceful. Not the best memory lol

What's one of the best gifts you've ever received? When I first moved to London I felt like I was required to go back to Switzerland for birthdays and Christmas celebrations, even though those were difficult, associated with a lot of bad memories, and never ever fun. I moved to London at the beginning of October with a suitcase of clothes and not much else, and we pretty immediately went on the Dirty Pretty Things break up tour, so i didn't even sleep in my new London room very much for the first 8 weeks. Going back to Switzerland for that Christmas was particularly hard because I hadn't been in London for long, I had barely any stuff that belonged to me, and there was a certain feeling of 'maybe it was just a long holiday, and I'm gonna wake up and live in Switzerland again', because I did a lot of extended holidays to follow bands around the UK in the two years leading up to my move so... yeah, it was rough. And then when I returned home to London Ruth and her mum had bought me my own bedsheets (zebra striped), and made up the bed in my room, and put a big bow on it, and I'm basically in floods of tears just thinking about it now. They made me a home that I was welcome in. And I’ll never forget that.

How about one of the best you've given yourself? I honestly can't think of anything that was a "birthday" gift to myself. hmmm. When I quit smoking I put £5 into a jar every day, that I wasn't spending on cigarettes, and then Ruth and I went to New York and attended Elsie Fest with my 'No Longer a Smoker' money, buying VIP tickets that came with awesome seats and a tonne of free booze... that was EXCELLENT! haha

What's your favourite cake flavour? Not a big fan of cake. I like raw cake batter an awful lot better than actual cake. So I now always ask for chocolate mousse for my birthday :)

How about your favourite flowers? Wild Flowers. And I quite like interesting twigs, too.

Have your ever thrown a birthday party? If yes, tell us about your favourite one. Oh yeah, I throw awesome parties. Here's just a few recent ones, or you can check out the Mys in the Kitchen tag for what may get served at my birthday parties... haha Though actually a couple of years post pandemic I wanted to have a brithday party, but keep it small and covid friendly, so I had a Cocktail & Cookie Icing party, which was so much fun!! I highly recommend everyone to throw a party at least once in their life, that includes like a fun workshop element. We had such a good time!

What's the ultimate birthday song?

Because it’s my birthday and people have to let me play it haha

There we have it! Birthday fun! Now it's your turn @deedala @ian-galagher @iandarling @darlingian @celestialmickey @crossmydna @too-schoolforcool @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx x @iansw0rld @ohkate @palepinkgoat @lynne-monstr @loftec @sickness-health-all-that-shit @faejilly @junemermaid @jrooc @mikhailoisbaby @creepkinginc @francesrose3 @callivich @blue-disco-lights @sleepyfacetoughguy @stocious @spookygingerr @lingy910y @suzy-queued @greentealycheejelly @thepupperino

#weekly tag wednesday #tag game #mys stuff

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marchsfreakshow · 1 year ago

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Stranger, Lover. (Dandy Mott Imagine)

Imagine being a person on the streets, and finding yourself watching a Freakshow through the peek's of the tent.....

I was tired from walkin'. There were lights ahead of me, so I kept going, kept pushing despite my legs wanting to give out right now. I ran. I ran and ran.

Elsa's Cabinet Of Curiosities, the sign said. I knew I couldn't pay for a ticket, so I sneaked. I snuck around until I peeked my head through a hole, and watched. A two headed lady. The Tattler Twins the police searched for, a few weeks back. Dwarves, Lobster Boy, Amazon Eve. I was happy to be sitting, and watching in the corner.

A tap on my shoulder made me stand up immediately. "What are you doing?"

"oh, uh. Nothing sir. I'm sorry sir...you see."

"calm down." His voice was sharp and quick. I could only guess where he was. "...come with me."

"I can't see you.." I replied sheepishly, but he grabbed my hand and took me around the back, where we found a working carousel. No one was on it. In the light I saw his face. A handsome man. "A carousel? Why here?"

"I think, you need some fun. None of the freaks are interesting. They cast me out."

"Cast you out? Why?" I asked, as he helped me onto a horse. The strange man just joined me on the back of the horse, holding onto me. I guess because there was no where else to hold.

"Because they don't think I'm one of them." Music sung in the air quietly. It was an amazing feeling, riding a carousel.

"Oh, why I'm sure you are though." I giggled. While i think he smiled, the carousel came to a stop almost immediately. The man got off and helped me off after. Lobster boy was infront of me. Two handsome men, I felt fuzzy. Embarrassment came over me, I wanted to run. Running away from my problems was my solution for everything. Flight over fight everytime.

"Lady! Don't go anywhere. Why are you here? With Dandy of all people." His accent was smooth. It stopped me from running, and I turned back around on my heel.

"I...uh, couldn't afford a ticket. Ticket lady wasn't there, so, I snuck in and..watched."

So, the man who rode the carousel with me was called Dandy. I didn't want to look away from his face, he didn't look away from mine. We exchanged smiles, before dandy carried on answering. "I personally, was walking around and happened to see this young woman here. I find you freaks boring. I wanted to show her a better time."

"Scram!! Right fucking now! Dandy you dont belong here, you know that." Lobster Boy continued.

"I hate you!!" Dandy screamed. He took my hand and we ran. Again. Back to running. The pain in my legs became obvious again. Darkness over took me, leaves crunched underneath us. The Freakshow disappeared behind us.

"please! Stop! I feel weak..." I wheezed, sinking to a stop and onto my knees. Everything hurt. I needed water, but I doubted I was gonna find any in the woods this dark.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt pretty lady?" Dandy asked. Pretty lady? That's a compliment.

"No...just..tired. My legs feel like jelly. I'm shaking. I've done nothing but walk and run for the past 3 to 4 hours. I think."

"Oh. Well, build us a tree fort. We can sleep in there."

I raised an eyebrow he couldn't see at him. "It's fine. Do it."

So I built in the dark, leaves, twigs, branches, anything and everything was used. As soon as I was done, I grabbed Dandy's hand and pulled him into the cozy shelter. He was practically ontop of me. "Are you okay to sleep like this?" I asked. He made a face in response.

"No, but It'll have to do."

We slept. He slept ontop of me, almost making me lose my ability to breath. But it was nice. Human comfort and company. Especially with a handsome man like the one on top of me.

Haii, I literally just had a dream about this, so I wrote it cause it was gold lol. It's not proof read, and it's a quick write. I hope you enjoyed!!

@babygorewhore @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @tatelangdonsweater hi tag list! Enjoy this imagine 💜

#ahs #american horror story #Freakshow #ahs freakshow #dandy mott #Jimmy darling #s #dandy mott x reader #dandy #Dandy Mott imagine #finn wittrock #x Reader #ahs x Reader #ahs imagine #ahs imagines

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katyspersonal · 6 months ago

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I don't believe I am going to make much SOTE progress today, especially since this traitor @fantomette22 is apparently asleep/busy and can't help me right now -_- So yeah, some extra stuff before bed

1) It is interesting to think of an implication of this item.. damn, apparently there WILL be places where you are stuck but can't teleport or something? :p Okay then.. Sacrificial Twig + this shit it is, then?

2) They continue with the "monkeys are trying to comprehend magic" lore!

! Onze is the Demihuman swordsman I fought in the Belurat Gaol earlier! The sword is dropped by a Demihuman Queen you fight in Cerulean Coast! I mean, yeah, even in the base game there was a Demihuman in Weeping Penunsula who used a Glintstone Staff, but damn..

3) Miyazaki: Yeah DLC area map will be like the size of Limgrave :)

Also Miyazaki:

Me: Girl you ok? 💀💀💀

4) I love the woman with Sulyvahn's blades, but I can't defeat the woman with Sulyvahn's blades ;-;

Maybe eventually.....

5) WAIT gdhyyf it is like, a symbol of moon and flame or something?????

This is adorable gfhgfhgggb I know it makes sense, but aww

6) I already screamed about it at Fantomette, but

HOLY SHIIIIIT SHE WAS FUCKING RIGHT ABOUT DRAGONS FASCISM THIS WHOLE TIME WHEN WE QUESTIONED WHY WOULD DRAGON COMMUNION BE A THING IF GODWYN BEFRIENDED ANCIENT DRAGONS THE ANSWER IS THAT ANCIENT DRAGONS FUCKING HATED GREYOLL-TYPE DRAGONS I REPEAT THEY HATED THE "IMPURE" OFFSPRING OFF THEIR SPECIES WHAT THE FUUUUUCK AAAAAAA

7) There is a new Carian Knight! And it is a big deal since they were "no more than a dozen"! Cool!!!

And it is a girl! However I am curious.. Moongrum, Moonrothyll... why their names start with 'moon'? Are they siblings? Or maybe Carian Knights had ancestry thing going on so those born with expectation to be raised as Carian Knight had 'moon' names in advance? Or they assume 'moon' name as new one upon entering a service (least likely since we already can recall exception)? Arghhhh

8) Okay this was actually an important one for me personally! So basically @jarognieva asked me whether I've met Queelign and I said I had no idea who it was. So greeeat, I've missed an invader -_- She said he was at Belurat and I checked but he never appeared, so I assumed he is one of those invaders that vanish after the boss of the area is defeated. (Who thought it was a good idea? I bet I've missed a cool drop... ;-; ) However, she added that he also invades in another place but she would not tell where! I didn't mind that and continued exploring the DLC as usual. So, after defeating that red bear beast at last (horaaaay!!!), I decided to check a distinct building on that map, and GUESS WHO I'VE MET?????

THE FUCKING GUY HIMSELF LOL!!! OF COURSE HE HAS A FUCKING PETRUS HAIRSTYLE LMAOOOOOOO GGJHJGJJ

So basically bro talked shit (that all 'graceless' shall meet death in Messmer's flame), that already made me REALLY want to kill him as if this cursed hairstyle wasn't enough gghghg . And he also called us 'graceless heathen' upon death lol. But it ACTUALLY clicked when he dropped an item, like:

Okay all 6 of you already had enough of my lunatic ravings about how much I abhor this specific type of attitude, as well as my theories on Messmer's motivations being rooted in purism of religious kind when anon asked about my expectations for him (I haven't met him yet so schhhh). But it is.. more than that. Miyazaki hates this sort of people too, especially he consistenyly bullies clerics in his works. Just.. read this description

Like not only this gave me some STRONG hatred for this character already, but also reminded me of one of the reasons I ended up loving Miyazaki's works so much to begin with. Shit like this just makes me feel understood, and without exagerration, reading this gave me HUMANITY RESTORED effect after I was feeling low because of a certain spoiler 😔 Honestly.. I don't care how many dramatic blonde twinks he will do dirty with a random plot twist, but as long as he addresses his disdain for this kind of people in his works I'll always love his games. Like I know it sounds oddly emotional but you need to be familiar with his other works to understand vfhgjbghb My faith in him as a creator straight up got restored, it is a personal detail for me!

9) So I figured that Ascetics are dropping pieces of their set.. I had suspicions, yeah, but now I am just sad ggjhhhjj I don't want to grind these guys *ends up doing it anyway probably*

10) For some reason I am starting to really like that hornsent guy who drafts maps of Miquella's crosses! Knowing Soulsborne tho I guess I just need to wait for something bad to happen to him -_-

11) Some people (all two of them) legit thank me for showing these item descriptions because they can't play the DLC themselves, but the players they watch don't stop to read items lore! Okay.... I guess I'll continue, heheh;

#sote spoilers #elden ring dlc #elden ring #gameplay log #screenshots

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doobs · 1 year ago

Note

May we have Dallas quotes? He is my fave vent crawling fella out there

I don't know about you but that statement makes Dallas seem very sus... 🤔

EDIT: I ACCIDENTALLY DIDNT CHANGE THE NAME OF ONE OF THEM AND IT SAID AHSOKA INSTEAD OF DALLAS LOL IM SO SORRY

---

Brett: We've been conducting an ongoing study to see what Dallas will and will not eat.

Lambert: Grass? Yes!

Brett: Moss? Right.

Lambert: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Brett: Shoelaces? Strange, but yes.

Lambert: Worms? Sometimes!

Brett: Rocks? Usually nah.

Lambert: Twigs? Usually!

Brett: Ripley's cooking? Inconclusive!

Kane: How did you... test this?

Lambert: You just hand him stuff, say 'eat this', and if he eats it, he eats it.

Kane: ...I'm oddly disturbed and concerned for Dallas' wellbeing.

Parker: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT??

---

Parker: Guess what I'm about to get?

Dallas, under his breath: ...on my nerves.

Parker: LAI-

ripley has hit parker in the head with a flamethrower

---

Dallas: Tired of just deserving better. Gotta start taking it by force.

meanwhile crawling through a vent with an alien in it

---

Ripley: You have friends, and... I envy that.

Dallas: You're welcome to share my friends.

Ripley: *looks at Parker and Lambert*

Ripley: I don't want those.

---

Lambert: So, what’s Ripley's type?

Dallas: Blue eyes, kind, oblivious, good sense of humor, turtle lover.

Lambert: Sounds kind of like me. Too bad we’re just friends.

Dallas: Did I mention oblivious?

Lambert: Yeah, why?

Dallas: Okay, just making sure.

two weeks later, lambert laying in bed: oh my GO-

---

Dallas: I wish I was a cat, but not in a furry kinda way, more like a "I can sleep all day and hit people with no consequences" kinda way.

---

Ash: Is it still visible? Where Ripley slapped me?

Lambert: Your face looks like a don't walk signal.

Parker: Your face looks like a photo negative for the hamburger helper box.

Dallas: A palm reader could tell Ripley's future by looking at your face.

Brett: The phrase 'talk to the hand cause the face ain't listening' doesn't work for you, because the hand is your face.

Ash: ...A simple 'yes' would've sufficed.

---

happy 2024 :)

#alien 1979 #alien #incorrect quotes #ash #ripley #lambert #brett #parker #dallas #kane #hee hee ha ha #i think i'm funny but i'm probably not #alien movie #ellen ripley #joan lambert #horror

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sollucets · 8 months ago

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get to know me tag

as tagged by @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, and @troubled-mind! thank u everyone 💜🥰

do you make your bed? literally never!

what's your favourite number? 52. i picked it as a child and i don't remember why, but it pleases me still

what is your job? i'm a humble lil grocery store employee

if you could go back to school, would you? if i could quit my job and go to school and still have my same money, then yes, i should think so, but that's super not happening! it might be nice to have a second degree. i think history would be fun

can you parallel park? yes i can! i used to have to do it every day to park in front of my last house. >:c

a job you had that would surprise people? i think all of my jobs have been either rather generic or right on the nose for what people would expect of me so probably not. i was a nighttime gas station attendant for a fair bit of college, which could be a surprise i guess? everyone always goes ":0 but werent you scared????" and like, no, not most of the time, but sometimes you do it scared yknow

do you think aliens are real? yes, but real in a way that there are many real things i can't see and don't understand (protons, gender, etc)

can you drive a manual car? i could do that once and probably still can, but it's been a long long time since i practiced

what's your guilty pleasure? as far as media goes, i do my very best not to have things like this. if i feel bad about liking it i generally do not like it for very long. i would say the closest is being into kpop, but it's not like i keep that a secret, i just dont really want to engage with kpop fandom, so i dont often post or talk about it publicly. a real guilty pleasure is that i like cherry pepsi too much

tattoos? i have one; he's on my left forearm & he's an abstract little spaceman with a fern for a head. i call him my cosmonaut. i have plans for more but i never have the time or money lately

favorite color? we know this one already surely. 💜

favorite type of music? ohh, i don't like to discriminate hehe. my very favoritest songs usually have fun harmony or funky rhythms, though, and it's best if i can sing along

do you like puzzles? sure! i used to have a book of fairy puzzles when i was a kid that i love dearly even now

any phobias? i am afraid of all bugs, but i can be a grownup about most kinds of them. i Cannot be a grownup about moths or centipedes, which i am terrified of (using those words will cause this post to be filtered for me on tumblr). i try not to kill them if i can avoid it, since it isnt their fault i'm like this, but i,,, i really can't, i'm useless if i see one. when id find centipedes in my room at my last house i wouldnt be able to sleep.

favorite childhood sport? i did tennis all of middle and high school, explicitly because of ryoma echizen prince of tennis lol. i was on varsity! i also figure skated as a kid. both are still fun when i get the chance

do you talk to yourself? oh yes all the time. i keep odd hours so i used to accidentally wake my roommate cause i just kind of absentmindedly chatter abt everything

what movies do you adore? i am not really a movie person if i'm perfectly honest; i don't watch them often as an adult. from my childhood my favorite movies were kenneth branagh much ado about nothing, the princess bride, pokemon 2000, and return of the king

coffee or tea? neither, i dont like most hot drinks. apple cider is ok now and again but i usually drink it cold, and im horribly picky about hot chocolate

first thing you wanted to be growing up? i changed this answer all the time as a kid and i have records of me doing so in my old notebooks lol! answers i know about include "pilot", "author", "dragon", and "eowyn"

this one seems like it might be a little personal so im shy to tag people hehe. go ahead and put me down if you want to do it though; i will be happy to know :)

#rowan lore

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toxi-works-at-culvers · 1 year ago

Note

also what are some of your headcanons for him? i'd love to know:)!

ohh i have so many thoughts about him, thank you for asking! :3c

some general stuff first i guess? i think he genuinely loved his kids! and i think that he also liked kids in general, since he opened up fredbear's and all. i don't think he was the best dad, but i think he genuinely tried. and i don't really like when he's portrayed as abusive because i don't feel like it makes sense for his character.

basic stuff: 6 ft 2 in tall, built like a fuckin twig, scariest gray/green eyes you will ever see. charming bastard smile. missing a tooth because he's definitely gotten into a fight before. wears purple in almost every outfit and dresses more formally than needed. bisexual. somewhere in his mid-30's in 1983

hobbies include robotics, designing animatronics, acting, journaling, and juggling (canon btw)

british. that's not even a headcanon but i feel like it's being forgotten lately (matthew curtis' voicelines for him + he's not gonna have an accent in the movie… sad!)

very afraid of death

has a very high opinion of himself

probably had a cat at one point. i feel like he would

i think his hair would start graying kind of early because of stress. the man's a workaholic and has definitely done more than a few all-nighters :P

i also think he got married kind of early (in his 20's or so) from societal pressure and also oopsies!! accidental pregnancy! so yeah. michael was an accident but william still loved him - but once elizabeth and evan were born william kind of ends up ignoring michael in favor of them. and that causes michael's teen angst to get especially angsty which is why the bite of 83 happens

he 100% used to have a thing with henry. there's no way they weren't at least a little fruity. (from the silver eyes, "a search of his house had found (…) stacks of journals full of raving paranoia, passages about henry that ranged from wild jealousy to near worship." tell me that's not homosexual.) but anyways they both have families now, yet william still lowkey kind of wants henry. but will never have him because they are both doomed by the narrative :) (edit to also say. they are like a divorced old couple tbh.)

his opinion about henry swaps around a lot. sees henry as being superior and better than him even if, technically, william has made wayyy more advanced animatronics. or sometimes thinks that he's the best and henry would be nothing without him.

and now his personality!! i kind of try to base most of it on how he's portrayed in the books, with my own touch added on. basically he's silly! he's a great actor and he's very theatrical. he's also very charismatic, good at interacting with people as well as getting what he wants. but underneath all that he's kind of an asshole, he's really selfish and only really cares about himself. he's egotistcal and he doesn't admit his faults because he thinks he can't be wrong. so yeah. (this actually got really long so i condensed it down. more elaboration under the cut)

gets springlocked and dies in 1993. returned to the fnaf 1 location because he wanted to destroy the old animatronics, thinking that it might free the souls and let him avoid their wrath or something idk. kind of backfired on him.

post springtrapping he's had a lot of time to reflect, but rather than feeling guilty he feels like he needs to get revenge. he wants to kill everyone who's ever wronged him and that's what keeps him going, even in death. (also the only one he might ACTUALLY somewhat regret is killing charlie, because of how it broke his relationship with henry. but otherwise he doesn't feel guilty at all.)

and most importantly, the fnaf 6 ending (with henry's speech) is canon and he's dead after that :) no glitchtrap, no mimic, no FUCKING FEAR GAS!1!1!11

(the original, longer version of his personality here lol) i think that william is actually a very silly goofy guy! he's dramatic, he's an entertainer and an actor as shown by how he acts when he's wearing the springbonnie suit. although he's definitely playing it up for an effect there, he's still kind of uhh. theatrical i think. but he's also very charismatic and could probably smooth talk his way out of prettty much anything, which is part of the reason he doesn't get arrested after the MCI (also the lack of evidence). at the same time he has kind of a weird vibe to him, you can just tell there's something wrong with this dude, like maybe he's trying a little too hard to look normal.

and thennnn there's what's beneath the surface. william is kind of insensitive, self-centered/selfish, and egotistical. he also absolutely refuses to admit his own faults or shortcomings. something bad happened? not his fault! he was wrong about something? no he wasn't! another thing, william is very paranoid and usually feels like anyone or anything could be a threat to him (mostly because of that one passage from the silver eyes, "had spent so much of his life fighting like a cornered rat." and ANOTHER thing from the silver eyes, "he had taken on the mantle of bitter sadism as an integral part of himself. he would strike out against others and revel in their pain, feeling righteously that the world owed him his cruel pleasures.")

at first he kills charlie because he wants to bring evan back, and feels he deserves some kind of revenge on henry because it was HIS animatronic that did the bite after all, right? but along the way he realizes he enjoys killing. and that it feels so good to have power when he hasn't for most of his life. so he keeps going, and eventually all that comes crashing down on him. and it's tragic! because he used to have what many would call a perfect life. but he completely ruined that with his own selfish desires.

#aheem sorry this post got really big #still working on the drawing but i thought i'd answer this first :)#also this is entirely self indulgent so i'm putting it in the tags #but i LOVEEEE the idea of transmasc william. maybe i'm just projecting but i love it #lynn.txt #asks #fnaf #headcanons #william afton #my silly billy bastard man <3 #toxi fnaf lore

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justatiredghost · 6 days ago

Text

No Freedom from Knowing ch12

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

(yes, I know this was supposed to be done, but I wanted to write more lol)

John kept glancing over at Martin as they walked, a dangerous pastime since it meant he wasn’t watching his feet carefully enough and almost tripped several times. There was no way Martin could have missed it, but he seemed to be content to wait for him to speak up.

“Are you all right?” John asked eventually, unable to bite his tongue any longer.

“I swear, John, if you ask me that one more time—“ Martin said, looking amused despite his exasperation.

“Ah, right,” John said. “My apologies.” He hadn’t realized how often he’d been asking.

“Is there something you actually wanted to ask?” Martin pressed.

“I suppose, yes. I was just— wondering how you are adjusting.”

“I really am okay,” Martin said, and he sent him such a soft smile. “I mean, yeah, not knowing what we’re going to do when winter hits isn’t great, but that isn’t actually a new feeling for me. And being with you helps.”

“Oh,” John said, and he could feel his face burning at that.

“What about you?” Martin asked. “You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard. How’s your leg?”

“Yes, it seems I’ve gotten rather soft over the years,” John huffed in annoyance.

“You’re not soft, you’re injured,” Martin said.

“I don’t have time to be injured.”

“You have to pace yourself, we don’t know how long we’ll be traveling.”

“This isn’t actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, of course,” Martin said, amused. “God forbid we talk about your feelings, time to change the subject.”

“There just isn’t anything to talk about!” John said in indignation.

“Uh huh,” Martin replied.

“Look,” John huffed. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing with the whole Lonely patron thing.”

“Oh,” Martin said, and his smile slipped away. John almost wished he hadn’t pushed. He’d rather the teasing if it at least amused him. “I don’t really know. I think I’m okay, it just makes everything— muffled, I guess, if I’m not careful.”

“I’m here for you,” John said, before he could think too hard about it, trying to ignore the way his face flared with heat in embarrassment. “Whatever you need.”

“Thanks,” Martin said with that same soft smile again. “I know. Now,” he continued in a more normal tone, signaling the end of the conversation. “How about we set up camp here?”

“A bit early in the day, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but there’s a lake and I’d like to try my hand at fishing.”

John was fairly certain the real reason he was suggesting they stop was because he was limping more than usual. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue, so he decided to take the offer to spare his dignity and agreed.

Martin tried to hide his concern, but it was hard to miss. Maybe John had agreed too quickly, usually he argued more if he thought the insistence on a break had anything to do with his leg. He really did need it, though, so he chose a relatively clear spot for them that was out of sight from the road and sank down to sit against a tree with a heavy sigh. When Martin started gathering twigs and sticks, John waved him off.

“Go do your fishing stuff,” John said. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Okay, okay, just don’t burn yourself again.”

John wanted to be annoyed, but had difficulty when he saw Martin’s smile. Instead, he turned his attention to making the fire.

John wasn’t entirely sure if the nights were actually getting colder, or if he was simply struggling more than anticipated with sleeping outside on the ground. Usually, with a low-burning fire on one side, and Martin on the other, he was doing well enough. But tonight he woke up shivering violently.

They’d managed to steal some supplies. John tried not to feel too guilty about it, and right now he was exceedingly grateful as he pulled the blanket more tightly around himself. He reached a hand out to pat the spot next to him, to find Martin and pull him closer, but there was only open air.

Sitting up in confusion, he cast about, looking for where he might have gone. There were plenty of reasons for someone to get up in the middle of the night, he reminded himself, trying to choke down the panic. It didn’t necessarily mean danger, that Elias or angry townspeople had found them. But then he spotted Martin standing on the shore of the lake and he sighed in relief.

The longer he looked at Martin, though, the more unsettled he became. He was only wearing his sleep clothes and, while he wasn’t as bothered by the cold as John was, he thought a jacket was at least advisable. And it looked like he hadn’t bothered to put his boots on. And then John saw the fog on the lake slowly reaching tendrils towards the shore, towards Martin, and his blood ran cold.

John scrambled to his feet, frustrated with his stiff and sore muscles. He almost fell and grudgingly grabbed his cane. Everything was so still that he found he was afraid to raise his voice too much as he called out to Martin, but he didn’t respond. When he was close enough, he grabbed his hand and gave it a tentative pull.

“Martin, are you with me? Can you step away from the lake?”

Still nothing. That was bad, there was no way he’d be able to forcefully drag him back. He moved to stand in front of Martin, between him and the encroaching mist, and put his hands on his shoulders. He looked even farther away than he had in the Lonely and he wasn’t sure the same method would work here.

“Martin? Martin, please.”

John was always so afraid to use his magic, it was too dangerous. But if Martin’s life was on the line, he would. He focused, on his patron, on knowledge, on the memory of everything he and Martin had been through together. He had never attempted something like this before, but somehow he knew it would work as he slowly, carefully, brushed that knowledge against Martin; an invitation.

Immediately, Martin’s eyes snapped to his, properly focused and wide, as a soft, “oh,” escaped his lips. He reached a hand up to touch John’s cheek, being so careful. “I didn’t realize.”

“Didn’t realize what?” John asked, still apprehensive, unsure if the danger was over.

“Nothing,” Martin said, shook his head, as if to clear it. “I just— thank you. For letting me in, despite how terrifying it must have been.”

“Oh,” John said, as realization crept in. He’d just shared everything he felt for Martin, how much he cared about him, how lost he’d felt when he’d sent him away, everything. His face burned as he turned away, embarrassed, and he cleared his throat to try to regain some composure. “Yes, well, if you’re back with me, can we perhaps step away from the lake?”

“Oh!” Martin said, looking around for the first time. “Right, yes.”

“Do you remember what happened?” John asked. He threw a glare towards the lake, but thankfully the fog looked normal again.

“Yeah,” Martin said. “I had an unpleasant dream, thought I’d take a walk to clear my head. I guess it didn’t go so well. I was already feeling kind of out of it, I should have seen this coming.”

“Did the dream have anything to do with—“ John began, trying to find the right words.

“Loneliness?” Martin asked with a small sad smile. “Yeah. But it was just a dream. I’ll be sure to wake you up next time.”

“Oh good,” John said with a heavy sight and leaned against Martin.

“Come on,” Martin said. “Let’s get back to bed.”

“With pleasure.”

His muscles were aching even more and they had to walk painfully slowly. It was with much relief that he was able to sink down onto their makeshift bed before resting his head on Martin’s chest.

“So,” John began, hesitantly. “Exactly how much did I show you?”

“A lot,” Martin replied.

“Oh no,” John groaned as he hid his face against Martin’s chest.

“No, it was sweet.”

“I am not sweet!”

“Sure,” Martin chuckled, rubbing a hand along John’s back. “Still, thank you. That’s the second time you’ve had to pull me out of the Lonely.”

“I’m happy to keep doing it, but if this is your way to force me to talk about my feelings, I’m going to be very upset with you.”

“I haven’t resorted to life-threatening situations for that just yet,” Martin chuckled. “I need you to know something, though.”

“What?” John asked, sitting up so he could look at him, unable to stop the ball of anxiety from forming in his stomach.

“I love you.”

John felt like his heart skipped a beat at that, his entire body going shaky, feeling sick with nerves. He never thought anyone in their right mind would say that to him. He certainly didn’t deserve it. He’d spent much of his life pushing people away because it was easier than facing rejection. But now, here he was with Martin, who had just seen the mess that was his own mind and had somehow not been turned away.

“I—“ John began, but Martin silenced him with a soft kiss.

“It’s okay,” Martin said, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back.”

“No, I know,” John said, taking a deep breath. “I want you to know.”

“I do.”

“I want to be able to say it myself, then,” John said, stubbornly. “I love you.”

It was terrifying to admit it out loud, like it made it real, made it something he could lose. But it already was both of those things. He was embarrassed by everything Martin may have learned about him when he shared his memories, but he deserved to know. John wanted him to know how completely he was in love with him.

The smile Martin gave him was radiant, and there were tears in his eyes that John wiped away, kissing him again and lingering close, not wanting the moment to end. He was loved, and he was in love, and while that didn’t fix their situation, it was a wonder all on its own. John pulled the blankets more securely around them both to block out the chill, to block out the world, so it was just the two of them.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #no freedom from knowing fic

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littleladymab · 10 months ago

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FebruarOC - Kaedmon & Uriah

This is just their joint drabble because it was long and I wanted to pester you all one final time this month :')

And because I forgot to say it on their individual posts, while I don't have a playlist for either of them, I do have one song for each of them that I stick on loop while writing.

Uriah: The Dead South's "Yours to Keep" Kaedmon: Chase Petra's "Pacific"

This does just sort of cut off because i got too lazy to continue and didn't want to be here all day LOL

++++

Uriah couldn’t believe this.

Not only did the rebel girl get the jump on him, but then they were both caught by the most incompetent smugglers that he had ever seen.

Yeah, well, who’s incompetent now, he thinks darkly. At least they tied his hands in front of him like the amateurs they are.

And no one knew he is ISB. Which, well, if he grew tired of playing the part he could snap the bindings easily and use his hidden comm device to call for reinforcements. His cover would be blown, of course, and it would be a stupid way to get a mark on his short but unblemished records.

He could check one roughshod smuggler group off the list and one rebel agent, too. A net win, in the grand scheme of things.

Uriah’s gaze shifts over to rebel; there’s still a twig in her hair and a possible shadow of a bruise on her cheek, though it’s hard to tell in the dim lighting of the cheap lanterns. She had a Fulcrum logo stitched into the seam of her jacket, but he has a hard time imagining that she’s the infamous rebel spy that ISB has been building a dossier on. If he has to categorize her, it would be somewhere above girl in over her head but maybe on par with the rest of these smugglers.

She’s probably just trying to catch the Rebellion's attention in a desperate grab to get them to notice her.

He frowns when he notices the rapid rise and fall of her chest, ragged gasping breaths even in unconsciousness. She had been wearing a respirator, hadn’t she?

“Hey,” he tries, but his voice comes out more like a croak and he has to cough to clear it. “Hey!”

Four heads turn in his direction, the others opting instead to ignore him.

“Are you trying to kill us? She can’t breathe. Give her back her respirator.” Uriah gestures with his bound hands to the rebel a few feet away.

She does a great job of gasping like a fish. Perfect. Right on cue. Couldn’t have asked for a better scene partner.

“What’s that to you?” one of them asks, the hulking Devaronian that Uriah has flagged as the leader. “Thought you and her weren’t working together.”

They’re most certainly not, but that’s neither here nor there. “I can not work with someone and still care if they live or die.”

Which, mostly true, but they don't have to know that.

He could really do with one less rebel wannabe in his neck of the woods, but it will be much easier to get out of this situation if she isn't dead.

Besides, she’s just a girl — barely 20 if that. Probably close to his sister’s age if he had to guess. And if she wants a purpose in life, well, she helps him get out of here and he can introduce her to people who can give that to her.

Two birds, one less rebel. Seems like a win win.

“Besides, if she goes missing, you’ll have rebels swarming all over these woods looking for her,” Uriah presses as he starts to lose their attention. It’s just bullshitting because he knows they don’t have the numbers to spare for someone — pretender or not, Fulcrum or not. But these suckers don’t know that.

Sure enough, when they turn away from him this time, it’s to huddle together and whisper plans. He tries to listen in, the implant in his left ear picking up their hushed voices, but fuck him they’re speaking Devaronese. Alright, props to them for that one, he didn’t see that coming. They’re systems away from Devaron and they’re a bunch of one-bit smugglers, how was he supposed to know they’d speak a language he couldn’t.

Note to self, he thinks wryly. Upgrade implant.

Still, whatever their discussion, he can see the agitation in their body language and the tone of their voices carry the argument just as well as their words.

Uriah waits, tense, wondering if they’re going to decide to cut their losses and kill both prisoners or actually listen to him.

He’s half surprised when they toss the respirator in his direction, watching its lazy arc through the air and frowning as it lands somewhere between him and the rebel. Should have expected that.

“If you want to save her, be our guest,” the Devaronian says, and then the gang all return to their dinners.

Well, at least it’s something. He’ll push his luck with food tomorrow if they forget to feed their prisoners this evening, but for now he can at least make sure the girl won’t die.

Uriah shuffles around onto his knees, careful to not seem too competent even with his hands bound. He picks up the mask, studying the structure in the poor lighting before he finds the power button. The internal mechanics begin to hum and a small puff of air ghosts out over his hands, which is as good as he can get it for now. She’ll have to handle the rest when she wakes up.

He continues his awkward trek over to her side and unceremoniously holds the respirator over her face. He doesn’t want to run the risk of her tossing her head or rolling over and the mask falling off, nor does he want to cross any personal boundaries and fasten it on properly over her head.

That’s when he feels the sharp threat of a knife right above his hip, somewhere around his kidney and intestine.

He glances down and finds her glaring up at him. He hadn’t realized how pale her eyes were — the nearly colorless brown of mica or the smoky quartz crystals he and his sister would find in their backyard. “Huh,” he says, more to himself than to her. “I guess you’re not so stupid after all.” Uriah gestures with his head towards the knife still pressed to his side. “Were you faking it?”

She rolls her eyes but makes no move to take the mask from his grasp, keeping them both in a vulnerable position. So, no. Likely not.

“Where’d you get it from?” he asks instead.

“They’re not very observant,” she answers, her voice husky and muffled beneath the mask. “Oh, good, you didn’t turn on the vocoder.”

Truth be told he didn’t know he hadn’t. He hadn’t realized it was two separate switches. “Can’t have you vocalizing any of our escape plans.”

“Oh, it’s our now?” she growls and the knife presses just a little closer.

“Knock that off,” Uriah hisses, finally giving in to the urge to squirm away and abandoning the mask on her face. “You’re a poor attempt at a rebel if you think you can get out of here without my help.”

The look she gives him is incredibly skeptical, as if she wasn’t just unconscious (or at least pretending to be) for the better part of an hour. Really he should have tried to wake her up sooner just to ensure she didn’t have a concussion, but there’s only so much responsibility he’s willing to take for her.

Then again, she did manage to grab a weapon from one of the smugglers during the skirmish and keep it hidden from them at the price of her blaster and her respirator.

“Look,” he finally says with an eyeroll of his own. He can keep his voice low enough, and he can hear her despite the respirator and the chatter from the camp. “Temporary truce?”

“With an Imperial?”

His head whips towards her so fast that his neck twinges. “What?”

The rebel struggles into an upright position, knife having vanished to who knows where, and fixes her respirator in place. Without the strain on her face while struggling to breathe and only the top half of her face scowling at him, she looks older somehow. “You think I’m stupid?”

He hesitates, then slowly says, “It had occurred to me, yeah.” He wants to know how she knows, but now isn’t the time.

“At least you’re honest.” Her head moves in a slow study of the camp and the surrounding locale. He can see the calculations behind her eyes, putting together what he already had: It would be easy to get away and keep ahead of the smugglers if they pursue, but pick the wrong direction and they’d be lost for days.

Well, technically. He could ditch her and call his back-up — or since she’s got him read, he could call and bring them both in.

Uriah watches for the moment when her thoughts add up to the fact that two is better than one and that she would need a partner in this escape attempt. “Temporary truce?” he repeats, holding out his bound hands.

Her eyes flash to his, almost as sharp as her knife, and she holds his gaze for a long moment before sighing. “Temporary truce,” she agrees, and touches the tips of her fingers to his in an awkward handshake. Then, with another, more dramatic sigh, she says, “I’m going to miss that blaster.”

“We don’t have to abandon everything,” he offers, settling back against one of the crates that form the boundary of the camp.

“The best option is to cut our losses and just go.”

Ugh, rebels. He doesn’t know if she just wants to avoid violence or she’s still keen on trying to get in on their operation. Either way, it could cost them if they don’t take at least the Devaronian.

So instead he says, “I’ll wager you the blaster.”

Her brow furrows and she considers him. “I lose the blaster either way.”

“Not if you get it first.”

She snorts, and he thinks there might be some amusement in there.

#februaroc #a lil miss original #lil miss writings #star wars oc

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opheliajupiter99 · 8 months ago

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Story Thoughts/Shipping Venting (no offense intended, just blowing off steam cause had a shit week)

Over here feeling very left out today with all the shipping pictures I'm seeing. Man, I know my friends don't actually -care- I think their ships are insanity, they'd said as much multiple times, but I still feel so out of the loop, like I'm the only person who doesn't give a fuck about shipping in this fandom (even though logically I know I'm not).

In my opinion, Kremy and Gideon are the only ones that make even the vaguest amount of sense, the Torbek ones especially confuse the shit out of me, since most of them beyond Gricko and Twig are kinda assholes to Torbek XD. Gideon I can sort of see since they're both prisoners, but still, all of it feels like utter insanity to me.

But as always, I highly encourage people to keep on keeping on with what makes them happy, as long as they never force it on others - or try to pretend its cannon when it clearly isn't, which thankfully my dear friends are masters at both. I dunno, just wanted to vent a little, I guess, had a pretty rough week irl.

And well, while I don't have any shipping related headcannons, I have plenty of thoughts of the darker parts of the story, horror fan as I am, like imagining what kind of nightmarish Arkham Asylum/Outlast esc hellscape Torbek was in, or the deeper conditions of the train and working facility Gideon was kept in and how each and every Hobgoblin treated him.

Or how Kremy'll react when the Baron inevitably shows up in the story at some point; I don't know when he'll show up, but I know with how much campaign we have left (one of my friends said we were only through like 6% of what they wanna do with Witchlight which is insane, but also awesome lol) that the oppurtonity's too good to pass up. Kremy's reactions of terror are some of my favorite moments, and him seeing the Baron would be -peek- Kremy terror, cause we all know the Baron usually only shows up for one reason lol.

#once upon a witchlight #legends of avantris #personal vent

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lowkey-loki245 · 10 months ago

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I swear to fuck that radio twig has become my Roman Empire so imma talk about him even if what I'm about to say is obvious because I care too much.

I feel like I've been interpreting Alastor differently from the rest of the fandom. Like, how I see him (and how I kinda headcanoned his story to be) is that Alastor did go to the hotel originally under Lilith's (or whoever owns him) orders, but got emotional attached to the point where he nearly died during the extermination for the hotel.

His mental breakdown is because he doesn't like that he nearly died for the hotel because that means he now has a weakness, that the hotel and those in it can be used against him. Alastor obviously cares a lot about seeming powerful and always in control, so of course he'd hate the idea of having a weakness.

I honestly see his hatred for seeming weak is because he doesn't want to get hurt, to be taken advantage of, and he does whatever it takes to seem impossible to hurt so no one will bother trying. He hated Lucifer at first not just because I 100% believe he has daddy issues, but also because it's kinda impossible to be the strongest in the room with the King of Hell around.

(This is just a small scene that could just be Alastor having fun, but Alastor destroying the bit of his coat that Sir Pentious ripped off could be him trying to destroying any sign of someone catching him even slightly off guard. I mean, bro's coat always looks ripped at the bottom, why does he care about another rip? Because he knows it's not just a rip, but a sign that someone could possibly get the jump on him. Anyways, back to me actually making sense and not hyper-analyzing small stuff.)

Hell, he's always being over dramatic when it comes to threats, practically putting on a show.

I also wanna talk about how (apparently, I'm going off Fandom Wiki here) Alastor had a "Dexter" (a fictional serial killer that only killed other serial killers) approach to the whole serial killer thing. That makes things really interesting. I'm guessing that means he only kills people he believes were bad people. He also apparently has some weird morals and I just find that intriguing. Just wanted to bring this up though I don't have much to say about it.

(Btw, I am in no way an Alastor apologist, that man has killed and done much wrong and I am not going to defend that. I just find his character really interesting.)

He just seems to always be putting on a show of being all scary and powerful, but also obviously does care at least a little bit about the hotel and the people inside.

(Also, I wanna talk about how I see this interacting with my fave ship, qpr radioapple. I kinda see it as that Lucifer is the only person Alastor can really just let himself be weak with because, well, it's impossible to seem stronger than Lucifer himself, so why even try. Of course, Alastor has gotten so used to his act that it takes him a while to calm down with Lucifer, but still. I kinda see them both helping each other in ways the other couldn't imagine. Lucifer helps Alastor feel like he doesn't have to constantly act all strong and scary in order to be safe, and Alastor helps Lucifer feel less alone after seemingly 7 years of not seeing anyone (how is that man not insane, 7 years? I couldn't stand a month and half.) I just like the idea of them helping the other feel loved for once in a long time.)

Anyways, I just wanted to ramble about this deer for a bit, lol.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor

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eddie-rifff · 2 years ago

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happy new years! 🍾🎉 tagged by @girlinthebrightbluejeans <3

what book are you currently reading? The Beasts of Never by Georgess McHargue. its a nonfiction book about the origins of mythical creatures- im interested in the part about unicorns of course.

what’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this past year? i actually really dislike going to movie theatres and seeing new movies lol i prefer things you'll see on mst3k or nothing at all. i kind of dont like movies which i know is an insane thing to say but its tru

what do you usually wear? lots of black, ripped jeans, white adidas sneakers. 70s looking things too- i go back and forth between goth and retro

how tall are you? 5'9 >:)

what’s your Star Sign? do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? aquarius! and i just so happen to share a birthday with one alice cooper!

do you go by your name or nickname? trying to get more people to call me twig but generally just my birth name

did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? not at all! i wanted to work at an animal sanctuary or as a psychologist. and i ended up being a copy editor...

are you in a relationship? if not who is your crush if you have one? nope. im talking to a few fellows tho. my crushes are peter hammill, andy mackay, and bill bruford :~)

what’s something you’re good at vs something you’re bad at? very good at very little imo. uh i guess having 70s prog knowledge? bad at most other things. lets say math to be specific

dogs or cats? CATS

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this past year? i mainly just sketched and worked on that 50+ page fanfic and i am not sharing a single line from that thing- CERTAINLY not my favorite

what’s something you would like to create content for? i want to make custom ceramics! i mean i do that anyway, but i wanna do it more frequently and market myself to the public

what’s something you’re currently obsessed with? peter hammill's solo albums from the 80s! and unicorns!

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this past year? my entire job situation

what’s a hidden talent of yours? like i said. im not really good at any one thing. i guess being hypermobile is something?

are you religious? nope

whats something you wish to have at this moment? a full time copy editing job lol

tagging @wanderinstar @keyed-up-allthetime @yesterdaysanswers @jazzsbingoparty no pressure tho!!

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charonean · 2 years ago

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In depth backstories for them all?

Hey Ferre, did you know that I love you?

Prepare for a lot, so I'll do a read more, I guess lol.

So I'll do Casimir and Dmitri Klimek together because they're twins.

We'll start a bit before them though (because I've been developing their family a lot recently) with their father, a human hunter named Aleksy.

Aleksy had recently built himself a cabin in the woods and decided to not continue on with his family's business (they run a bakery) and to become a hunter. So now he's out in the woods once day, and he goes a little too deep into them (people don't tend to go too deep into these woods because there's a high number of wood elves in the area and they prefer to Keep To Themselves). But he's out, carefully tracking a large stag he'd seen earlier, when he steps on a twig and then gets shot in the leg. Apparently he'd frightened another hunter in the area, a wood elf named Emeril.

Emeril, panicked, felt really bad for accidentally shooting a human, and she decided to bring him back to his cabin and tried to heal his wound. And, as it goes, they fell in love. Thus comes Casimir and Dmitri.

They were raised solely by their father (they have no clue who their mother is (they don't even know her name...) because all their father will say about her is that 'she's gone' and they don't know if that means she's dead or she left (Cas believes she's dead; Dima thinks she left)). They were like the sun and moon; Casimir is more withdrawn and solemn, and he loves to study astronomy and sleep in late and he honestly doesn't care at all about his elvish heritage. Dmitri, on the other hand, is very outgoing and personable, he is obsessed with nature, and all he wants is to learn about his mother and what his elvish half. (I could talk so much about random points in their lives here and about their other family members (their aunt Alina (Aleksy's twin) and their uncle Benedykt (and later on, their cousin Erich)))

[At one point, when they were about seven, they were play-fighting with some sticks in the woods, and Dmitri accidentally cut Casimir across his face, and it scarred, which is why whenever you see art of Cas, he has that scar on his face.]

Now, Dmitri wanted to learn druidry. This was no secret to his family. However, it was a secret that he was teaching himself. He'd finally learned his first spell and he was so eager to show it off to Cas. So he took him to this small clearing in the woods by the river where they used to play. This part in particular was the rapids and their father had built up a small wall of stone so they wouldn't fall in. However, Dmitri stood up on one of the rocks as a stage so he could show off, but the spell had a bit of a kick to it, and he slipped on the wet stone, fell and hit his head on a rock, and drowned. He was fourteen.

Casimir was devastated and continued to blame himself for his brother's death because he felt he hadn't been quick enough to save him. In an attempt to redeem himself, he threw himself into his studies of astronomy and into being the best person he could be. He was very well loved by everyone in the town because of how helpful he was.

On the ten year anniversary of Dmitri's death, Casimir went to the river where he drowned, and he was looking into the water, begging for forgiveness, when he saw a second reflection staring at him. It looked just like Dmitri, aged fourteen. It was then that he felt a hand resting on his shoulder.

His brother was back. And he promised Casimir he would forgive him, if he did some things in return. After ten years of only wanting this one thing, Casimir immediately agreed, and thus entered his warlock pact. In return for forgiveness, he simply needed to eradicate all worshippers of this one god. A small price to pay, really, Dmitri had said.

And then from there the story can take one of two routes: Casimir eventually discovers that an evil, fallen god has been masquerading as his dead twin brother to manipulate him, and then he decides to sever the pact and become a druid himself. Or (as it happens in the dnd campaign I run, where Cas is an NPC)! Casimir never figures this out and eventually is appointed to the Warlock Council, a ruling body in their world, and continues to be manipulated and trapped in a state of constant grief and guilt for the rest of his life!

He is my favourite character ever and I constantly think about him. He is also married to another character of mine, Morgan. They are a bard/rogue and a good balance to the Casimir's studious and withdrawn nature. I have a lot more information, but it's hard to compress it all, so if you have more questions, let me know!

Now! As if that wasn't enough info for one ask! Let's move onto Liam Greyvale!

So, a little starter info: I initially created Liam's sister, Talia, a while ago but never developed much of her story. So he was created to fill a gap, but then I got attached.

The marriage between Nathaniel and Alice Greyvale was arranged and unhappy. Alice had been in love with a lower class man named William ('Will'), who had challenged Nathaniel to a duel when their engagement was announced and subsequently killed. Alice had been taken away to Greyhaven, the ancestral seat of the Greyvale family, before she had the chance to tend to William or wish him goodbye. This deeply affects her relationship with her youngest son, Liam.

Their first child, a son named Maximilian ('Max'), was incredibly good-natured and personable. Their second child, a daughter named Talia, idolised her older brother and constantly followed him around. Their third child, a daughter named Lilian ('Lily'), was often excluded by the older two (not so much on purpose, just because of personality differences) and so spent a lot of time doting on her younger brother. Their fourth child, a son named William ('Liam'), was born incredibly sickly and blind in one eye.

Liam spent most of his childhood confined to bed. His mother, who only ever called him 'Will' (a name that he hated, not that he ever told her), spent all her time at his side, tending to him. He feels a degree of resentment towards her because of how suffocating she had been to him. Lily also spent a lot of time with Liam. So much so that they were called 'The Twins' even though there was a years difference between them. She would often sneak him treats or help get him the books he would ask for.

He spent a lot of time reading and studying. He was very find of - and very good at - learning new languages. So he learned a great many and would write poetry in them. Additionally, he would make up new languages when he was bored... or he would play pranks on some of the guards that were posted to watch him. There was one guard in particular, Sir Cassian Edwards, the Captain of the family guard, whom Liam was very fond of.

Nathaniel Greyvale was not a good man. He was not a good husband. He was not a good father. And he was a horrible ruler. So much so that the people staged a rebellion to overthrow the family. This coup was led by Sir Cassian Edwards.

Sir Cassian believed that Max, whilst beloved by the people, was too submissive to his father's beliefs and desires, and thus he could never be a good successor to the throne. He, however, had thought that Liam might be a good replacement. Nathaniel had almost zero impact on his youngest son's life and since Liam had been so sickly growing up, he had almost no contact with anyone from outside, save for Sir Cassian. Liam was, in short, a perfect puppet prince.

During the uprising, Max was killed. He wasn't the greatest warrior, but he had died defending his sisters.

Liam and Alice were in Liam's room - tucked away in a far corner of the keep - and were unaware of what was happening until someone started knocking on the door. Alice went to answer the door and she instantly knew something was wrong. When she noted this, she was killed. Her dying words were "Oh Will, I love you." Liam was found by his sisters kneeling beside his mother, covered in her blood, holding one of the rubies from her necklace.

Nathaniel, Talia, Lily, and Liam managed to escape. From then on, Nathaniel began training the girls to become perfect warriors. Talia on the offensive, so that she may avenge her family, and Lily on the defensive, so that she may defend Liam, who was now the new heir.

It wasn't a good time for the three kids (who were 14, 12, and 11 respectively at the time of the uprising; Max had been 17 when he died) as Nathaniel was incredibly cruel towards them. Talia ended up leaving on her own to go get revenge when she was 19. For another year, Lily and Liam were at Nathaniel's mercy.

Liam, once again, was being used as a puppet for the adults in his life. First his mother had used him as a fill-in for her past love and the fact that she wasn't able to be there for him when he needed her. Then Sir Cassian had attempted to use him as a puppet ruler. And then his father wanted to do the same.

He had found a book on forbidden forms of magic. And he was quite drawn to the idea of blood magic. So Liam practiced in secret, just in case.

The time came a year later, when Liam was 17. He doesn't remember exactly what had been happening - a lesson of some sorts - but he was sitting in a chair, a mock-throne, and Lily was standing beside him as his bodyguard. Their father had struck Liam. Blood dripped from his nose. And Liam used that blood to cut Nathaniel's throat.

After that, Lily and Liam went on the run, separately, as Lily had grown to resent and hate Liam after she was forced to do nothing but protect him and was taught that she was nothing but a human shield for him.

For a year Liam was on the run before I started playing him in the campaign I am in right now!

And that's all for now!! Thank you for the ask!

#ask #seldom evil #casimir #dmitri #liam greyvale

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