#nary a dull moment in here

[daytaker]

Congrats on 250 followers! ^_^ Could you do the 'only one bed' trope with Lucifer?

At long last, I come bearing a drabble. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!

The Puppetmaster

Ship: Lucifer/Reader Genre: Humor and fluff Word Count: 825 CW: Dubcon but it's cuddling? Also (joking) mentions of peeing as a kink. I'm sorry I'm like this.

[Part of my 250 Followers Mini Event!]

You were suspicious from the start, because it wasn’t like Lucifer not to plan ahead.

Now, you’re not even suspicious. There was no way that Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, would be spooning you if he didn’t absolutely intend to. His brothers? You could buy any of them claiming they just grabbed onto you in their sleep, or at least accept the room for reasonable doubt. But Lucifer? Never. Not in a thousand years. This was intentional. This was premeditated. This was planned.

You should have known this was going to happen.

You did know, actually. You would have been fully prepared if not for the mind tricks of Lucifer, the all-seeing Puppetmaster.

“Unfortunately, it seems like our accommodations tonight will be lacking in one respect.” Lucifer nodded apologetically to you as you made your way to the hotel room you’d be cooped up in until morning. He unlocked the door, and the moment you stepped inside, you saw the problem: the single queen-size bed, and nary so much as a sofa to serve as a substitute.

“It’s…fine,” you’d said, trying to brush it off as insignificant, even as your instincts began whispering to you that something was amiss. “It’s just for one night, and I trust you not to pull anything weird.”

Lucifer smiled at you when you said that. Not a kind, appreciative smile. No, it was the smile of the wise man humoring the fool. It made you uneasy.

“...Lucifer,” you said in a warning tone you normally reserved for Mammon.

“Hm? What is it?” He was taking his pajamas out of his suitcase, and his voice and expression were so nonchalant—dull, even—that you started to second guess yourself on that look you thought he gave you.

“Uh… I was just going to ask to use the bathroom before you step in to change,” you said, thinking to yourself what a nice save that was. Lucifer bowed his head and politely gestured for you to proceed.

…Oh, he would gaslight you into thinking you hadn’t seen anything, all to serve his twisted, demonic ends of cuddling you when you least expected it, at a time when you’d wake up, dazed and with a full bladder and no escape in sight. In fact, he probably made that initial, wolfish expression for the exact purpose of then playing innocent so convincingly that you’d stop suspecting him. He was just playing mind games with you at this point. He was toying with you.

As the two of you climbed into bed for the night, you each kept respectfully to your own sides. After a brief and awkward goodnight, he turned off the light, and you laid awake and stared at the ceiling.

Why…was there just one bed?

The question wouldn’t stop nagging at you.

Lucifer didn’t book this room in advance. The circumstances that led you here were unexpected delays that meant you couldn’t make it home at a reasonable hour. But… But…

Would Lucifer allow this to happen if he didn’t want it to? No! Absolutely not! Lucifer normally would have taken the chance of delays into account in his travel plans. He would have been prepared for this eventuality.

More than that though. In what sane world would Lucifer allow himself to be subjected to the humiliation of sharing a bed with you for any reason that didn’t include his deliberate, conscious choice? In which case, what was he pulling right now? You didn’t really think he was going to attempt anything truly nefarious, but your unease didn’t go away.

Nor should it have.

It’s about five o’clock in the morning, you need to pee, and you’re being prevented from making a smooth escape to the bathroom by Pride himself. The Machiavellian bastard. The way he played you like a fiddle. 

Maybe you should just let it out. Maybe that would teach him. 

But what if he knows about that too? What if this is all playing into his hand? He’s not into that, is he? What if he is? What if this entire scenario was orchestrated carefully from the beginning to get you to this point, where you’re trapped in his arms and feeling spiteful enough to wet the bed?

You feel a huff of breath behind your ear, then you hear the low pitched grunt of a baritone-voiced demon waking up.

“Lucifer!” you hiss.

“Mm?” He releases you, stretching his arms over his head calmly. “Good morning. Did you rest well?”

“Why were you hugging me?” You shoot an accusatory glare at him. You know about the piss kink. You have your ammunition locked and loaded.

“Because you’re lovely and warm, and I enjoyed the proximity. I hope I didn’t offend you.” He meets your gaze with an expression of such good-natured and genuine affection that your heart almost comes unmoored.

It’s a masterstroke. You have been defeated. Red-faced and groaning, you slip out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom.

[roguephenon]

IV: The Delightful Tale of Sector Z and the Last Soopreme Leader, Numbuh Three

Link has been reestablished. Now resuming trans—

ERROR. ERROR.

Re-calibrating…

The Big Super-Computer-ma-bob apologizes for this inconvenience.

Please enjoy this supplementary operation report while database is reconstructed.

:Accessing way-back mission archives:

Now loading kids next door mission:

Operation: T.E.A*

Terrible.

Evil.

Arises.

*Warning. System has tagged operation designation as a duplicate. SYSTEM ADMIN, please rectify…

many, many, years ago

In space, no one can hear you scream.

Unless you were on Kids Next Door Moonbase.

There? People could hear you screaming out the wazoo.

Why, there was so much screaming going on there; it was practically white noise for Global Command. If there ever was a moment when there wasn't the lively chatter of a buhmillion kids from all walks of life communing on the base to end all bases, then it was either winter holiday break or something was terribly, horribly wrong.

At the moment, it was barely Thanksgiving. And given how quiet the Moonbase currently was, it was safe to say the silence was due to the latter scenario.

I.e. something bad was going down.

In docking bay eleventeen, a gaggle of operatives stiffly patrolled the area. Their movements were almost robotic, and their once bright eyes were now dull and listless as they meandered about, attending to some command with nary a fuss.

"Come on, guys! Snap out of it!" came a muffled shout from a holding cell. A fist pounded against the metal door, frantic eyes glaring out the tiny peephole. "You gotta fight it!"

The guard of the door, a random cafeteria working armed with a SCAMP rifle, narrowed her eyes at the door. "Be…quiet…"

Her tone lacked agency. Devoid of any emotion.

The prisoner redoubled their efforts, the door trembling under their futile efforts. "I got injured operatives and scared cadets in here, you jerk!" His voice was littered with panicked urgency. "One of them needs an inhaler! ASA-NOW!"

The cafeteria guard ignored him, focusing on her single-minded directive.

Suddenly, the docking bay lit up as a single SCAMPER hovered up to the loading terminal. Nearby, an out of place DOH-DOH Squad officer jerkily directed a gaggle science nerds to form up around the galley plank.

All children present crowded around the ship, the sights of their rifles steady against the hull's structural weak points.

The door to the SCAMPER hissed open, weapons humming madly in response.

"Don't…move," the kid in charge demanded of the unknown pilot. He glared. "State…your…business."

From the bowels of the ship, an accented voice cried, "Pizza delivery!"

"We did not order a…" the guard blinked, everyone looking down confused as a pizza box was chucked in the middle of their group. "…pizza?"

The cardboard lid slowly opened on its own, an angel choir sounding off as they all bore witness to the golden glory of the fabled Ninety-Nine Cheese New York Style Pizza.

Even in their mind-addled stated state, all operatives present couldn't stop their mouths from salivating.

Steam rose from the pie's crust as the cheese atop it began to boil and bubble.

SPLOOOOOOOSH!

The uncut, medium-sized pie exploded in a gooey burst of Parmesan, Asiago, and mozzarella. The force blew back all caught unaware, their bodies glued and trapped to nearby surfaces by hot, sticky cheese.

The way clear, a small figure cockily ambled out of the scamper. An African-American boy strutted onto the Moonbase proper, dressed in a worn, orange jumpsuit, the torso folded down to reveal the stretchy white jersey baggy against his chest. He kicked the toes of his Nike sneakers against the deck, pumping up his kicks for the inevitable butt-whooping he was about to dish out.

Jerome Kingsly used the nozzle of his blaster to adjust his shades, combing through his messy fro whilst his lips curled into a self-assured smirk. "Down in Brooklyn, we call that the Nine-Nine Special."

"Numbuh Nine-Nine! Over here!"

WARNING. This a long chapter. Please give yourself breaks :3

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Oop This Just Became a Historical Drama

Records of the Torrent Watchers: The Blood Moon Specter, Part 3

Whumptober Day 15 CHILDHOOD TRAUMA | Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

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Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1300

Tag List: @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west

CW: panic attack, PTSD, flashback, kidnapping mention, death mention, torture mention, deception

----------

Reese was thirteen years old again.

Trapped in that same damn cell, curled up in that same damn corner, shivering in that same damn cold. The skin at the crook of her elbow was bruised and throbbing. Warm tears ran down her face as she prayed to wake, to escape this nightmare.

That same damn feeling of helplessness, of knowing that there was no escape.

“Hey,” a voice cut through the haze of terror, “hey, look at me.”

Air displaced nearby, and she whimpered, curling up into an even tighter ball. But nobody touched her.

“Dammit,” the voice muttered, “this is more serious than I thought. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “That’s what he said last time,” she mumbled, “he lied.”

“I’m not him. And I don’t lie.”

Confusion mixed in with the fear, dulling it. Reese raised her head and opened her eyes. As she blinked away the tears, reality set in. She felt the soft carpet underneath her body, registered the wood paneling of the room, which was very much not the glass cell. She was curled up in the corner of a small, windowless study. The only door was on the other side of the room, next to a simple wooden desk with a cushy chair pulled out in front of it. Bookcases lined the walls, shelves filled with what had to be hundreds of books.

The room was occupied by one other person, a young woman who she did not recognize. She had light skin and black hair cut short, and she wore a dark green dress, a gray shawl covering her shoulders. The woman knelt on the ground just out of reach. Her expression was one of concern, but it softened when Reese focused on her.

“Where am I?” Reese asked quietly, eyes darting around the room. The only exit was the door next to the desk at the far end of the room.

“You’re in my study on my family’s estate,” the woman answered gently, “My name’s Nari. What’s your name?”

Reese narrowed her eyes at Nari. “How did I get here?”

“You tell me. You were the one who ran in here.”

Reese slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, trying to sort through the last few hours. They were covered in a fog of panic and fear. She remembered… running. Running through hallways that reminded her of the manor where she had been taken when she was kidnapped. Memories from five years ago started to blend together after that.

And before? “We were in the forest…” she said quietly, “the part of the Fells close to the River Torrent. We followed a trail north-west… and then we were ambushed.” Her hand went to her knife, only to find the sheath empty. 

She sucked in a quick breath and made to rise to her feet, but Nari sprang up first and pinned her to the wall, hand clamped over her mouth.

“Hush!” The woman hissed, glancing over to the door. “You got away?”

Reese stared at her, eyes wide, her fingers closing into fists.

“If you want to live, do exactly as I say, okay?”

Reese’s eyes flicked towards the door. Was that shouting somewhere outside? She hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding.

Nari’s expression hardened. “Good. Under the desk. Now.”

She released Reese, who obeyed, crossing the room in three steps and curling up under the desk. Nari pushed the chair in front of her and sat down, smoothing her dress neatly over her knees.

“What’s going on?” Reese hissed, heart pounding in her ears.

“I’ll explain later,” Nari whispered as footsteps from at least a dozen feet pounded outside in the hallway. “Be quiet or they’ll—”

A sharp knock sounded on the door. Nari flinched, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “Come in!”

The door opened. “Elias, what’s going on?” Nari asked, pushing back the chair as if to rise to her feet. Reese’s heart skipped a beat. Was she going to—?

“Sorry to bother you, Lady Nari,” a male voice said, “but some intruders have just broken into the manor. One of them may be still inside.”

People in hoods and coats not unlike Reese’s own jacket. Nearly invisible in the failing light of the evening. At least a dozen.

Nari gasped. “Oh! Oh my! Thank you for telling me. Does Ry know?”

Luc had dispatched three before being disarmed. Reese managed one before her knife was knocked out of her hand. Damian disarmed one and stabbed a second, but one of the attackers got within his reach and punched him in the gut, forcing him to drop his sword. They couldn’t have been private security, they weren’t close enough to the manor house that the hooded attackers brought them to.

“Lord Rycellus has already been made aware of the situation. I will be sure to inform you when the last intruder has been apprehended.”

Reese remembered seeing the manor marked on one of Luc’s maps. It was close to the river town where the latest body was found. They were ushered in through a side door, and she was separated from the others. 

“Thank you so much, Elias.”

Reese kicked the one who was holding her in a sensitive place and bolted through the manor.

“Of course, my lady.”

Memories blended together. A closed door. The study.

The door closed. Nari waited as the footsteps receded, as the muffled orders from Elias echoed down the hallway grew softer until there was only silence outside the room. She quickly rose and pulled the chair away, allowing Reese to emerge from beneath the desk.

“Are you all right?” Nari asked softly. “Please, if you need to sit down.”

Reese collapsed into the chair, running her hands over her face. “I abandoned them,” she whispered.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what led you to be here. Did you break in? Or where you brought here?”

Reese eyed her in suspicion. “Why are you protecting me?”

“Because my brother thinks he can keep what he’s doing a secret. Please, if you were kidnapped and brought here, you need to tell me.”

Reese exhaled slowly. “My name is Reese. I was with Luc Epsilona, the resident Watcher of the River Torrent. We were investigating a murder which had a connection to similar deaths, when….” She explained everything she remembered but left out the part about why she had been panicking. That would lead to too many questions.

Nari frowned at the floor when she finished, processing her words. “I knew this day would come,” she finally said. “Dammit, I wish I had an explanation for you, but I barely know more than you do.”

She began to pace. “I need to get you out of here, and your friends. Before Ry does whatever he’s been doing to the others.”

Reese watched her carefully. “How do you know what he’s doing? How do you know he’s behind the murders?”

Nari froze, staring at nothing. “I… I hear the screams,” she whispered, “of the people underground… I don’t know if he does it himself, but he’s the one who let it happen. He’s the one who hired those people. And he goes to such lengths to ensure I never find out. But I know.” Tears began to trickle down her face. “I know… and yet I do nothing. I’m as bad as he is.”

Celestials… she’s terrified.

Reese rose to her feet. “Nari, I know you’re scared. But I’m apprenticed to a Watcher, I know what I’m doing. We need to find out why this is happening. What can you tell me about the people he hired?”

Nari breathed deeply, composing herself. When she looked back at Reese, her face was the same hardened expression as when she had ordered Reese to hide. “It’s not much, but here’s what I know….”

[skzkiyoon]

❤️ FATHER AND DAUGTHER

CONTACT NAME: papá 💕

she has a solid relationship with her father, it’s always been like that since she was born. she was more of a daddy’s girl than anything, but she loved her parents equally. her dad always had work but always made time for her and her siblings before the mother passed away. she still continues to enjoy hanging out with just her dad because of the inside jokes they have and humorous things he says. they’re both the type to laugh at something random over the phone or when they see something in person. kiyoon has never had a fight with her father, their relationship has always been very stable. through her depression state of her mother passing, her father was there for her through everything. he was supportive of her dream to become an idol and has supported her throughout her entire journey. he has come to every concert and fan meeting. her dad tries to be funny by showing up as a “fan” at fan meetings and says hello to all the other members before he spooks her by surprising her. it’s always fun when the entire family gets together during parties or concerts because it’s always lively. kiyoon and her dad are an unstoppable daddy-daughter duo and nothing has ever changed that.

❤️ OLDEST SISTER AND YOUNGER BROTHERS

CONTACT NAMES: ha-yoonie 🫠, bby bro aisan ❤️

it’s ironic that ha-yoon is twins with nari but hates her guts, whereas when it comes to kiyoon he’s always chill. even though he was raised by both is parents before the incident, he would always stick to his older sister’s side. when he was a baby, kiyoon got to hold him in her arms. kiyoon and ha-yoon are 6 years apart, but it always seems like they’re the actual twins. they get along well and as normal siblings do they’ve had a couple of arguments here and there growing up, but their relationship has always been stable and they’ve never gone out of contact ever since kiyoon became an idol.

aisan is the youngest of all the siblings, him and kiyoon are 9 years apart. she’s never actually had a sibling fight with him, he’s always been a very good kid growing up and got to experience fun every day. it was lively growing up with aisan when he was only a toddler because he was one of those kids who had so much energy. you would tell him no to something and he would go do something again and you would have to tell him no yet again.. and so on. you’ve only had to get onto him once or twice but really he’s always been well behaved. growing up now he’s in his last year of highschool. he’s grown up to be such a great kid and you express that to him everyday.

❤️ OLDEST SISTER AND YOUNGER SISTER

CONTACT NAME: lily pad 🍀💌

nari and kiyoon are definitely attached at the hip. when kiyoon isn’t busy doing her normal work things, and it’s always a fun time. nari is practically a mini version of kiyoon, she’s just way more nice and playful. nari’s got the nickname “lily pad” because her name means lily, so her older sister thought it was a great idea to give her that nickname. car rides are always the best when it’s just the two of them, they both blast music in the car. nari was the one to suggest that kiyoon get 15 inch bass speakers in her car. nari will take the aux in the car just to blast spanish music such as anuel aa, daddy yankee, or nicki jam. never a dull moment between them, especially when they’re the life of the party. their bond has always been strong and it only grew stronger as the years went by.

❤️ MOTHER AND SON

YEOSIN

kiyoon has had her cat since 2021, loves her cat very much. yeosin is a white and black maine coon cat that is always grumpy. yeosin lives with kiyoon’s family as of right now, but they live fairly close so she can visit her cat anytime. kiyoon was the one that adopted yeosin and they’ve been together ever since. yeosin is very fond of his family and even though he’s always grumpy he’s never done anything wrong. he has the best life with his mom and other family members and is very playful and cuddly.

[mirageofficial]

      ─      WELCOME  TO  MIRAGE.MP3   ! !

                (  EP. 01     UNRELEASED  MUSIC  )

     ─      MY  WORLD!!       ( 2019 )

" welcome to my world, a place far away from your fears "

" when our different colors paint the same dream, we're free "

" this is the moment when two different worlds are one "

MY WORLD is the song that was originally meant to be MIRAGE's debut title track, written in early 2019 and scrapped from the tracklist of LUCID DREAMING : LEVEL1. most of MIRAGE regrets removing it for the sake of it’s sound, but they chose to not release it at debut because it would fit their lore later on in their discography. teased and leaked by fans, many theorize it will be on the tracklist for their first comeback after the 2024 hiatus.

     ─      DEJA  VU!!       ( 2021  )

" it feels as if i had a dream in a dream, my body knows you "

" all my senses are dulled by your magnetic attraction "

" i'm confused about whether it's an illusion or an illness "

originally written by the producer unit & their studio team, DEJA VU was abandoned by MIRAGE because they felt it would potentially only be seen as a seductive track—not for its actual meaning. instead of scrapping the song (which was written by the producers until the first half of verse two), MIRAGE passed it to ATEEZ. it became the title track of ZERO : FEVER, PART 3 and the lyrics were completed by HONGJOONG and MINGI.

     ─       WHO  I  AM!!       ( 2021  )

" i'm the writer of this story, the genre is fantasy "

" look at me now, all the trivial things have become distant "

" you are someone's dream come true, a deja vu of some perfect day "

written and briefly recorded in 2021, WHO I AM was projected be one of the title tracks for the 2022 THIS IS A MIRAGE project. the message was perfect for their second studio album, it’s packed with self-confidence while encouraging listeners to stay true to themselves and write their own destiny… just like MIRAGE. sadly, as the album was being developed, the girls and their team felt it couldn’t fit anywhere in the tracklist—that it's sound was far more fitting for FESTIVAL—hence, why it has never been released.

     ─      CYPHER!!       ( 2022  )

" i made a wish, amen, but also… mayday "

" there's no referee, there's no one on my side "

" save me from this empty world "

CLICK FOR LYRICS!!

CYPHER is the unreleased track from the rap unit of the group, these three are also its producers. originally meant to be a b-side for the REBIRTH project in 2023, CYPHER was rejected for this comeback from the company due to its explicitness & concerning lyrics. their management felt that where it’s crucial to be honest, the song would cause mass backlash from the general public for calling out the music industry/big three companies’ privileges/schemes unfairly impacting them.

today, CYPHER still remains a song that the unit wishes to share with their fans, it shares their vivid struggles with mental health and their desire to keep going as MIRAGE. it’s a taste of what the group’s music would be like if they kept their rap concept.

TAGLIST / @neocityocs @alixnsuperstxr @darkestlovers @kadieswrld @ino3zi

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE

[moriche]

Fear in a Handful of Dust - Chapter 20: All That We See Or Seem

Veryn speaks to Nibani - and realises he needs to relay that conversation to Sharn in turn. Rating: M Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Gen with a sprinkling of romance. Summary:

Convict. Blade. Telvanni. Nerevarine. ▲ ▼ ▲ He’d been branded an outcast, left to rot in a cell for years. So when Veryn was offered a deal — to work for the Blades and serve out the remainder of his sentence in Morrowind — he took it with both hands. Yet as the Sixth House continues to rise, Veryn ends up tangled deep within a web of foreign spies, twisted cults and strange dreams. Ever haunted by the ghosts of Cyrodiil, he has no choice to carve out a new beginning within the harsh, alien surroundings of Vvardenfell. An epic, tightly plotted Morrowind novelisation about politics, friendship and trauma - and about finding yourself in the gray maybe. Currently updating roughly every month.

Chapter Art: Fineliner on paper, 6x6 cm.

Excerpt:

The passage brought him to a cavernous room, easily the size of an Imperial basilica. Despite the extensive amount of space around him, the smooth, creamy walls seemed to press in on Veryn, threatening to bury him alive. He could not shake a sense of wrongness about the architecture: the floor, walls and ceiling all connected seamlessly, with nary a corner in sight. Multiple corridors branched off to the left and right at regular paces, their paths curving slightly downward, and it seemed as if he were standing within the hollowed sternum of some ancient beast, come to rest here in a time long past. A dull buzzing filled his ears, a humming drone that echoed through the cave — and then a heartbeat, thudding along with his own, accompanied by the skittering of a million tiny legs. For a moment, Veryn stood frozen as thousands of beetles swarmed the walls around him, turning bone to glistening lacquer, thorax and elytra marked with the sigil of the Sixth House. Heartrate spiking, blood draining from his face, he Recalled, catching a glimpse of three glowing sparks, peering at him from the depths of Mamaea. Brother, the Sharmat whispered within his mind. Kin. Servant.

[lianlong]

@arbitergeneralㅤ:

“ a - yinyue, are you awake? ” jing yuan’s head appears from around the corner — golden eyes a soft, comforting glow in the dull early morning. he found the high elder near a lotus pond and could have sworn he had fallen asleep with how still he appeared. regardless of an answer or not, the cloud knight captain closes the distance between them — sitting cross - legged besides yinyue and resting his head on a shoulder. “ i am… also tired, ” jing yuan mumbles with a yawn — falling asleep as soon as his eyes closed.

ㅤㅤThough it might appear as if the dragon slumbered, in truth, HE WAS AWAKE — his senses still sharp enough to hear the other's approach long before Jing Yuan even said a word. The High Elder often visited these lotus ponds to meditate, to clear his mind from the burden of duty. Most days, he would sit here alone in solitude, with nary a soul to disturb him. Yet the lieutenant's presence was not an unwelcome one, but rather the opposite.

ㅤㅤWhen Yinyue's eyes fall open, only enough to half-lid his gaze, his visitor was already beside him, and a moment later, he found Jing Yuan comfortably settled against his shoulder. None else would think to be so open with him, safe perhaps for their other companions — a bystander may even assume this to be deemed pure insolence, yet the thought to shift away and regain some distance never occurs to him. He visibly relaxes instead, subtly leaning into the familiar gesture. The man by his side felt not unlike the warm rays of the sun dancing on the water's surface, a gentle, comforting light ... a celestial body made flesh. Whether it was intentional or not, he offered something the STILL DEPTHS OF THE DRAGON'S HEART had been devoid of for years.

ㅤㅤ❝ — Rest well, A-Juan. ❞ㅤHis words come a quiet murmur, only for the other to hear — a moment of open fondness, just as sleep begins to drape itself over the leonine knight's form. Carefully, as to not wake him, Yinyue's tail coils against his back, mimicking an embrace for a person most beloved.

[campmurderparty]

barbie & suvi.

For a long time, barbie had hoped she’d open the front door and see suvi looking back at her. She dreamed of her returning, either staying in town for good or leaving again and taking barbie with her. After years of nary a word, barbie slowly gave up on that hope. She stopped dreaming of her life out in the world with suvi. She never forgot her, but she had to pretend she did. For her sanity. For her heart.

Turned out, suvi would end up on her doorstep one day… just sixteen years too late. Blinking rapidly, she wasn’t sure she was truly seeing suvi or just conjuring her up for a moment before suvi said her name. It was real. She was real. It didn’t feel relieving. It felt like a cruel joke. She had waited so long for her return, a piece of her heart missing, and now suvi had returned. That piece of her heart came back. So why did she feel so angry? So confused?

“Oh.” barbie faltered, glancing down at her heels. “I’m sorry.” barbie’s own father died several years ago. She wondered if suvi ever heard about it, but as far as she knew, suvi cut off contact with everyone in town. Like barbie, suvi had an incredibly complicated relationship with her own family. To hear she returned after her father’s death was equal parts understandable and surprising. She felt a dull pain in her heart that suvi still hadn’t returned for her, but barbie knew better now. Clearly, the love she felt for suvi when they were teenagers was a lot stronger than the love suvi had for her—if she had any at all.

Suvi didn’t know where else to go. Barbie pressed her lips together, nodding her head back as she processed the information. “Hm, okay.” the weight of the items in her arms grew heavier by the second. Readjusting her shoulder bag, she tried to think of an appropriate response. “I’m kind of late for work, suvi.” that wasn’t what she wanted to say. She wanted to scream where were you, suvi?! She wanted to scream, but kept a handle on her emotions. Slightly. “I don’t… I can't have you stay here while I'm at work, okay?” she didn’t think suvi was a thief or anything, but then again, she didn’t know suvi at all anymore. “Do you have a hotel room or something?”

[adultswim2021]

The Boondocks #19: “Stinkmeaner Strikes Back” | October 29, 2007 - 11:30PM | S02E04

The binge-watcher detests a recap. What’s the point of sitting through a “previously on” montage when you literally just watched whatever episode earlier that afternoon? But I am not a binge-watcher, and I am not binge-watching. So when the previously-on segment rolled, my paranoid inklings of needing to rewatch last season’s “Granddad's Fight” before watching this faded away. Huey, my child friend who talks to me through the television, reminded me of the concept of a “(soft-a n-word) moment”, a personality flaw that can affect all black men where destructive anger can be triggered by the most trifling matters (like having your new shoes stepped on). 

The story of this episode is that Stinkmeaner, the elderly disabled man who Granddad killed in a fight after one of these resulting soft-a n-word moments, comes back by possessing Tom Dubois, the Freeman’s neighbor. He’s shown honing his martial arts skills in hell before returning to Earth. We get some really funny scenes where Stinkmeaner’s personality comes out while inside Tom’s body, causing Tom to act not himself, intimidating and physically besting various people in a way Tom would never dare try. Stinkmeaner as Tom also has sex with Tom’s wife, who seems to be really into Tom’s personality change. Is this technically rape? This might be for Tom to sort out. He is a lawyer, after all. 

Huey has been having prophetic dreams about the return of Stinkmeaner, but Granddad won’t listen. He’s completely preoccupied by his dating profile on Myspace. Huey is also being visited by the ghostly apparition of Ghost Face Killah, who isn’t dead, but ghost is in high demand for this episode. Admittedly, my white “ass” had to look this up to confirm, but I assumed that’s who it was based on the pun and the jokes about him not being dead yet despite being a ghost. 

This episode doesn’t have a full opening sequence. Instead there’s a title card inspired by the Shaw Brothers logo. The first act contains a lot of martial arts style action between Stinkmeaner and the entire Freeman family. Tom, possessed by Stinkmeaner, Shinings his way through Granddad’s bathroom door (uncensored dong on HBOMax, everyone) and starts whooping the tar out of him. Eventually the three of them are able to knock him out and they tie him to Riley’s bed.

From here it turns into a full-on Exorcist parody, with Uncle Ruckus acting as Father Karras. He shows up with a bag full of items to combat the soft-a n-word inside Tom, including a lot of slave-driver accessories and the capper: a job application. 

This is one of those old-television style episodes where insane supernatural things happen, but it’s confined to this episode, so it shouldn’t bother anyone who’s canon-obsessed, even though it still might. That doesn’t seem to be the case: this is a fan-favorite episode and it’s absolutely earned it’s reputation. This is a GREAT one, and there’s nary a dull moment in the entire episode. The writers let themselves cut loose here and we’re all the better for it. Bravo, Boondocks! You did it! And plus, I think you’re nice!

[autimind]

I can't find any instance of Stabby in a StarFleet vessel, let alone the USS Enterprise. Well, I'll have to do something about that. So here is at least part 1.

Shoutout to @sepulchritude, who started the whole saga. Another shoutout to Grant Sanderson of the beautifully made 3blue1brown Youtube-channel.

Five fake internet points to anyone who catches the reference to a wonderful writer.

The birth of Stabby the Space Roomba

"All decks, stand down red alert. Stand down red alert."

After a second or so, commander Riker's voice continued. "Condition nominal. Beta shift, return to normal posts. Alpha and Gamma shifts stand down."

My shoulders sagged and I let go the proverbial breath I did not know I was holding. Nary a dull moment on the USS Enterprise. Then I smiled. It meant my guy was coming home safe and sound and that soon enough.

The neglible thrumming of the deck plate under my feet signalled a significant lowering of the reckless speed of the Big D. Judging from the elongated starlight out the window we were still hurtling away at a mindboggling velocity but no longer was our escape a reckless flat out escape. Time to go our quarters myself. A look at the shift leader was enough. Lt.Cmmdr LaForge waved me away. It took all of a minute to clean and stash my gear and set off home.

After having a quick shower, I stretched my frame out on the couch and picked up the PADD with the article I had been reading. After a minute I felt repeated pressure on my right foot and looked down.

"Oh hey, you. Back again?"

A cleaning bot had entered our quarters. I had ignored it of course as it went on its solitary duty. Now that I had taken a conscious look I wondered, yet again, if this was the same one. Then the door opened and I looked round into a tired smile.

"Hey, love." He took another step and the door closed. I stood up.

I pecked his cheek and pointed out a few tears in his uniform, underneath the clear marks of a dermal regenerator on his tan skin.

"Hey, love. Hard shift?"

He stretched carefully and groaned. "You could say that. But the main point is that we got away from Striterax in one piece. Well, most of us. Trrr'lix lost an arm but that'll regenerate."

"What happened?"

Jasper took some time to answer. "Basically… well, you know captain Picard, right? He sounds very polite, very cultured and very understanding but he just. doesn't. stop. So we have the treaty, for what it's worth, but just when we were leaving something happened. Let's say the Chief Silastic was in a bad mood."

I chuckled, helping him with his uniform. "Aren't they always."

"Aren't they, yeh. Thanks."

The cleaning bot followed him to the bathroom and returned dejectedly when the door hissed shut. I heard the sonic start. Once again I picked up my PADD and stopped, amazed.. 'dejectedly?'

Since my human backgrounds make up three quarters of my genotype, I am well aware I have that incredible pack bonding tendency but bots aren't even alive. For some reason, I still couldn't shake off the distinct impression that it was dejected. I even recalled that I had spurned its advances when it bumped into my foot a bit earlier. I had gently pushed it away, hadn't I?

"Come. Come here, boy, " I cajoled and felt ridiculous.

It trundled over. These things aren't fast. I looked around our quarters. My beloved has a predilection for putting tricorders down and forgetting about them. Since they're mostly indenti-ah, there. I scanned the bot and found nothing untoward, certainly no malfunctions.

"You're supposed to love me, dude." I looked up from my knelt down position and found my partner in a towel, still drying off various bits with a flannel.

"But I do love you, I-" He held up a hand. "Taking me literally again."

I deflated. He grinned when I looked up again. "Is that the bot that you think visits us?" I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Go put something on and we'll eat," I suggested. "And eh.. pick something without too many buttons. I might have to prove my love to you later on."

Watching his strong form retreat, I grinned myself. Then I completely forgot about the coming meal, the other man and our location. I found myself captivated and sat down on the couch, bot on the table in front of me. I even lost count of the present moment.

"Enterprise to pretty-face? General peace and hello on all FREQUENCIES?"

"Wh.. what?!" I spluttered. Jasper had returned, now dressed in what could only loosely be called appropriate attire. And loose it was. I ignored it. "Why are you talking about frequencies?" he asked.

"You were doing it first. Well, more like mumbling."

"I'm sorry, love. I discovered something." Instead of data dumping on the poor guy, I showed him the tricorder. He peered at it and remarked that everything seemed to be in order. The bot was interfacing with the computer, probably getting new instructions.

"That's just it, dear. Bots are almost completely autonomous. They suck up dust and tiny debris and clean the more easy spills. They don't need more than just 'go to that deck, that room' and away they go. This guy -" I hurriedly inhaled. "This guy has been interfacing for the last three minutes and maybe longer.

As we were both hungry and I admittedly felt a bit silly, I stood up and put the tricorder down. "I'll go to the section replicator and get us something to eat." His stomach gurgled. "I'll watch our bot," he offered.

Walking the short distance through the hallway to the communal replicator for our section, I wondered at that word choice. 'Our bot'. I mean, it chirped but almost all StarFleet tech chirps incessantly at you during even normal use. It wasn't special. Never mind, I thought. We've just had long days the both of us. I picked up two meals and used a bit of our rations to upgrade them somewhat. Vranto salad on t'mirak and a side of marinated tempeh for me and.. let's see.. lamb chops, potatoes and grilled vegetables for my love. He usually eats vegetarian as a concession to my sensibilities but all this stuff is replicated anyway and he deserved a treat. Thus loaded I returned to our quarters.

On my return, I found two lit candles on our table and one husband on the couch, staring at a tricorder. Soppy guy. The sound of the trays on the table and the tinkle of the cutlery drew him out of his concentration. "Oh hey…. Nice!" Taking home burnt animal flesh awarded me another kiss.

It took almost five entire minutes of reminiscing about the day before our guest turned up in conversation. Jasper gestured to the closed tricorder on our mocha table. (I get Earth idioms wrong at times, just to needle my man. It's funny. He gets worked up every. single. time.)

He swallowed. I managed not to frown at an odoriferous globule of fat. Jasper frowned. "The little guy isn't just interfacing. He is doing it non-stop and.. you'll love this.. there is almost as much data on the upload as is coming down. How is that possible?"

I put down my fork and steepled my fingers. "Well, it contains a mark 4 bidirectional transceiver just as basically every mobile tool does. There is no reason that it couldn't .. uh.. talk back."

"Sure, but what is it saying?"

"I don't know. I'd have to either take it apart and read out its working memory and storage chips or, conceivably, finnagle out if the computer has a reserved processing area for it, one or two isolinear chips maybe. That's not exactly according to regulations though, nor legal."

"Let's eat, " he said. I have a practical-minded husband.

For reasons of seemliness, I'll divulge that there was dinner and further pleasures and leave it at the fact that the bot was forgotten until the following day. It was not until three point four days later in fact that we found ourselves back in our quarters again with some notable free time. Fairly obviously, conversation immediately turned to our bot. I was now convinced it was 'our bot'. Jasper had checked its ID tag in a flash of insight and all further bots entering our quarters had had the same tag, hence were the same bot. On top of that, bot cleaning attention two or three times per ship's day was almost unheard of outside of the irremediably clumsy.

"Hey, Mobo."

An audible snort was just averted. "You named it?!"

"Yeh, Mobo. Short for mobile bot," I explained.

Jasper rolled his eyes. "Alright, let's have it. What is little dude talking to the computer about?"

It was the work of a moment to project the screen of my PADD onto the wall.

"That's computery lingo. I can't make heads or tails of it."

"Alright then, for the terminally hard of thinkin-" He whacked me with the flat of his hand. "Hey!"

"Sorry, I keep forgetting not everyone goes to the Federation Maths Match Meeting almost eve-"

"Doesn't some Vulcan always win?"

"I am Vulcan, well, partly. Anyway, that's about half of the time. You wouldn't believe how creative you sometimes have to get to solve the questions. As an example, finding all the subsets of the set 1 until 2000," I gestured with the PADD I had been reading again, "that are divisible by 5 can't be done by brute force, not even by a Vulcan."

Jasper nodded. "Shouldn't the answer be one fifth of 2 to the power of 2000?"

"Yeh but that's a number of a ridiculous magnitude and it is actually a shade more than that. I solved it eventually by rewriting as a polynomial over the complex numbers."

"Of course, obviously." I could just see him hoping that if he kept smiling he could pretend he'd understood all that. I love him.

"Some things," I hastily summarized, "can be done laboriously, like through lots and lots of double or triple integrals, or creatively."

"Here endeth ye lesson," Jasper remarked severely.

Chastened, I gathered my thoughts. "Our little dude has a reserved area of memory and it's very large. I suppose you could encode a fairly realistic human on the holodeck with that kind of storage. It can draw on a map of the entire ship, well.. the floors of the entire ship. It evades noxious stimuli. It visits certain decks and areas far more often than others, primarily this place. This took some doing but it has a clear tendency to seek stimulation."

"How do you figure that?"

"For a start, it almost never cleans empty quarters and evades uninhabited quarters like the plague. And I'll tell you one more thing: it keeps transmitting standard handshaking protocols at other bots."

We looked at eachother, neither really willing to speak aloud what I knew we were both thinking. I broke first.

"Do you think it is intelligent? Ah.. alive?"

To be continued?

has anyone done Stabby the knife wielding roomba on the USS Enterprise yet?

[disquietedpalefish]

Throwin’ this out there in case any of you Resident Evil or Silent Hill lovin’ folks might be interested.  ;)

[eternalmarika]

ruin. - Blaidd/Tarnished

Summary: Blaidd is a man of many facets. | pwp

Word Count: 4148

Content warning for canon-typical violence (one short combat scene) + some biting and mild blood kink

Author’s Note: I wanted to practice writing some combat and then things got sappy why does this always happen to me. also i have a playlist for these two because i’m down horrendous. you can listen here

Ao3

-----

When Blaidd fights, it reminds Aderyn of a dance.

The way he arcs and spins, sweeping out his greatsword effortlessly as an extension of his arm. He looks weightless; quite the accomplishment for a man of his stature, his presence.

When they fight together, Blaidd taking attention upon himself to distract from Aderyn's glintstone sorcery; it makes them burn for him. The Tarnished finds themself distracted, far too often, simply watching. He splits the air with his growls, dives over enemies to take their flank, bringing down the honed edge of his blade to rend foe and ground alike. Yet still he is poised, very nearly graceful; he's been a seasoned warrior for far longer than Aderyn has even been alive, and it shows plain in his every deliberate movement, in the confidence and swagger that all but drips from him in every moment of combat. A sharp contrast, to his soft-spoken kindness and compassion. Blaidd is a man of many facets, which Aderyn has delighted in uncovering.

As it is, when the pair find themselves up against a formidable foe in the form of a dragon, Aderyn finds it a bit difficult yet again to focus on unleashing their sorcery. They run wide of its wing, holding tight to Torrent as they weave luminescent spells towards the great beast, trying their best to avoid a snapping jaw of fire. Still their eyes wander to the wolven warrior, where he moves low to the ground but swift as a breeze, snarling at the dragon and rolling down to sweep his greatsword across its vulnerable legs.

He makes it look easy, Aderyn thinks with a small pout, digging their heels into Torrent's side to jump over a wing lashed out. They watch him dodge and fight, see plain his strength and power, and feels a tightening in both heart and stomach.

They worry for him, despite knowing it's needless. He's plenty capable, and clever in spades; nothing could harm him after so long spent draped in armor with sword in hand. Still they fear for him, for any potential harm that could befall him. They're rather fond of him, and can't stand the thought of seeing him hurt.

The dragon rears up, breaking Aderyn from their thoughts with a thunderous roar. Their eyed widen as a curse slips from their mouth, and with both arms raised they coalesce a storm of ice, shooting it towards the beast just as its legs buckle and fail. Blaidd effortlessly slides beneath the storm, working in tandem with Aderyn without the need to even look; rolling once before springing up with a sharp cry at the dragon's head. He grabs hold of a horn, uses the momentum to swing himself forward, and shove his blade as deep as it will go into its eye.

Three cries split the sunset as the dragon screams, Aderyn screaming Blaidd's name with eyes gone wide -heart lodged somewhere in their throat; did he just throw himself at a dragon's fucking mouth?- and the wolf throws back his head and howls, loud enough to thrum through the Tarnished's bones. Blaidd pulls free his sword, launching himself backwards and arcing in the air until he lands in a low stance, greatsword over his shoulder, and together they watch as the dragon disperses into starlight.

And then it's over. Aderyn throws a leg over Torrent with a grateful rub of their palm over his head, and slides to their knees in the grass when he disappears. There's a queer sort of ringing in their ears, hands fumbling until their staff falls beside them and lands with a dull thump, but they cannot bring themself to care at present. They've just taken down a beast of legend, with nary more than some scratches and bruises. Aderyn's mana reserves feel dangerously low, making them sluggish and their heart pound; and Blaidd seems merely out of breath, and he tosses back his heavy fur cloak and turns his face skyward, teeth freely bared as he howls their victory once more.

Aderyn blinks once. Twice. Thrice. A small bubble of laughter passes their lips, and they cannot suppress the smile that slowly unfurls. They've just killed a dragon. The Tarnished runs a trembling palm down the side of their face, smearing dirt and sweat along the edge of their jaw, and looks once more to Blaidd. He towers above them even at a distance, point of his sword shoved to the dirt as he leans heavily against it, breath coming quickly. He looks - not merely triumphant, but excited. Pleased, beyond compare. The setting sun highlights his edges and angles in burnished gold, and for a moment the Tarnished is speechless.

Adrenaline courses heavy through their veins, as Aderyn realizes all at once that they really, really, need to touch him.

The integrity of their knees betray them, however, and the moment they move to stand -all but throwing their rapier to the side in their impatience, cloak ripped off and following soon after- they drop back down to their ass again, laid flat in the dirt with arms and legs spread wide.

Perhaps their mind needs a moment to come to terms with what they've just done; but the body is halfway to clawing in desperation already. Their mind rushes, chest feeling tight and belly full of fire. Core pulsing with every hurried beat of their heart, it takes them too long to notice that they've soaked through their smalls, cunt feeling achingly empty.

Blaidd calls their name but they're too far gone to notice, still staring uselessly at the sky whilst they try and focus their breathing. He kneels down beside them, hands already hovering as he runs his gaze up and down their prone form, checking for blood or burns.

"I'm fine," they assure him with a lazy wave of the hand when their mouth decides to start working again. "Not injured. Just a bit - That was something, wasn't it?" Aderyn fumbles with their words, laughing breathlessly as they turn every moment of the battle over in their mind.

Blaidd makes a soft noise of agreement, though otherwise remains silent. Not unusual by any stretch, but something about the quiet feels - almost heavy. Aderyn's brows furrow, and the struggle to sit up with their weight on their palms.

"Alright?" They ask softly, looking him over with a keen eye. His cloak's a bit singed from errant dragonfire, but otherwise he seems right as rain. Even still, his eyes are narrowed and he breathes not a word as his nostrils flare and he moves to lean over them.

A flush burns Aderyn's face as they watch him move until he kneels between their spread legs, towering above them. He cages them in easily, hand trailing forward slowly to grip their ankle, bending their leg and moving them as he pleases. And they let themself be led; pulse stuttering and breath coming faster, still riding the adrenaline and so eager to be touched.

Blaidd noses at their bent knee, sharp edge of his teeth catching on their leathers. He breathes deep as he leans over them, inhaling their scent and growling low when he moves to press his nose right between their thighs. Aderyn's back arches on instinct alone, any potential embarrassment thrown readily out the window at the feel of delicious friction, tenderly pressed to their aching cunt. Their hands move to grip his shoulders, fingers tightening in his cloak and pulling him down.

"Drenched halfway to your knees. Wanton little thing," he murmurs, voice pitched low. His claws dig deep into the underside of their thigh, holding them steady as Aderyn writhes beneath him. It's all a bit strange, really; they could have died any number of times today, and now all they can think about is ripping away every layer that remains between them, to feel him pressed flush and to lose themself in his embrace. Hell of a high, dragon hunting.

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to do something about it?" They ask, sounding very near to desperate as Blaidd sits back, shining eyes trained on theirs. He makes a thoughtful noise, head tilted to the side, before his other hand shoots forward to mirror the first, claws biting deep enough into their thighs that the leather of their armor creaks. Aderyn's flush returns full force as they're yanked forward, a shocked yelp passing their lips when he pulls their legs around his waist, their heated core pressed flush to his groin. They look up at him from their back, blinking owlishly and biting down hard on their bottom lip.

Blaidd leans down, dragging his teeth along the line of their jaw. He chuckles, loud and warm, when Aderyn only gasps and grips tighter to his shoulders, the moment he grinds his hips forward.

"I can imagine a few things to do about it," he whispers, snout brushing the side of their neck as his hands travel to the curve of their ass, dragging them impossibly closer and stealing what little breath they have. His armor keeps them from feeling anything hidden beneath, but they know with certainty that he's as turned on as they are; fresh off an impossible battle, the Tarnished's heady scent cloying on the air and settling on his tongue. One look is all it takes for Aderyn to understand he's keeping himself in check, tightly coiled in an attempt not to hurt them.

"You're an imaginative sort, I surmise," Aderyn replies, swallowing thickly with a dry mouth. Their lashes flutter, back bowing at the thick press of him armor to their core. That needs to go as quickly as possible, elsewise they're likely to start begging.

"The things I've wanted to do to you," Blaidd says as he pulls back, voice rough and low. He drags his claws over their ass, hips bucking forward to drag another stuttering gasp from their throat.

"Anything," Aderyn whispers immediately, instinctively; their voice far more gentle than he expects. They lock eyes with Blaidd, one of their hands moving until they can curve a palm against the side of his neck. Grounding, tender; not heat of the moment, but a vulnerable burst of honesty as they feel the hurried jump of his pulse beneath their hand. "For you, anything."

He's quiet, for a breath; simply watching them as they struggle to sit to full height, though he lets slip a sweet sound from deep in his chest when Aderyn's palms cradle his face, thumbs following the long line of his scarred snout.

"Anything," they whisper once more, dark eyes filled with something far too warm to put a name to.

"And if I wished to ruin you?" Blaidd asks, in a rare show of something that belies his ferocity, and not the gentle-handed and kind man they know him to be. Instead he holds them tighter, points of his claws splitting the leather of their trousers and making Aderyn shudder beneath him.

"Then I would offer freely all that I am, to be ruined by a man such as you," they reply softly, honestly. Baring their trust and their desire, ribs cracked open and heart pulled free of its confines, to be offered and cradled in loving hands.

Tenderness is not something a Tarnished is accustomed to, especially so when wandering the Lands Between. Fighting for survival with every step, barely any time left over to take a breath, much less slow down and allow oneself a single moment to bask is some long-forgotten gentle respite.

But this Tarnished can feel it plain. With every breath, every movement. Blaidd closes the distance between them, caging them within the circle of his arms, to press his forehead to theirs. Aderyn's eyes flutter closed as they feel the soft brush of his fur, the way he surrounds them on all sides. Their hands move to the back of his neck, keeping him tethered close as they tilt their head up, pressing a soft kiss just above his nose.

"I'm yours," they whisper into their shared breath, exhaling as Blaidd inhales. "All of me, if you'll have it."

Neither of them are terribly loquacious; Blaidd to-the-point and Aderyn incapable of keeping their mouth shut for five minutes. There is no passionate poetry spilled between them, nor is there anything flowery in their words. But there is, if you look close, no small amount of freely-given affection.

"I would have you," Blaidd answers in a soft voice, a sharp contrast to the way he reaches a hand to pull their tunic harshly to the side, until the fabric rips and sags over their shoulder. Aderyn's eyes roll back the moment his jaw covers their bared skin, teeth biting deep into the flesh of their chest and shoulder. Blood pools and pours down their armor, coats his tongue and paints the air with the scent of sharp copper. He's large enough to cover their entire shoulder, and it's only for but a moment that Aderyn wonders if they're about to bleed out at the hands of their lover. The thought alone serves to reignite the low-burning fire of arousal deep within their core, flesh torn open serving to mix in a heady rush of pleasure-pain that has them gasping his name, hands fisting tightly into his fur.

Love isn't without its own violence, after all. A little bloodshed between two warriors is par for the course.

Blaidd marks them carefully, almost expertly; tears them open without any true danger, avoiding arteries and only serving to leave deep imprints of his teeth, that any who see will know exactly from whose jaw it came from.

They both know that Aderyn cannot die, not truly. If mistakes were to happen it would be nothing more than an apology and moving on. But this is symbolic; they trust him, more than they can say. And he wants to leave his mark, to claim them as his own.

Perhaps, even, to ruin them.

"Please," Aderyn whispers when he releases them, rough tongue laving over the bite marks just above their clavicle. The blood pours down their chest almost lazily, already beginning to clot and slow. There's a steady pulse thrumming through their bones, and they find that whatever carefully-honed control they'd once possessed is beginning to slip through their fingers. "Please, Blaidd. I need you."

"For you, anything." He parrots their earlier words, eliciting a dazed smile from Aderyn's mouth. He has their blood staining his teeth and yet still holds them carefully, constantly aware of how very fragile they are in his hands.

But they are both out of patience. Blaidd pulls away from them with a parting nip to their ruined shoulder, making Aderyn gasp sharply. The pain is dull, and when they roll their shoulder back all they can feel is Blaidd, when they look down beneath their tunic to a mess of smeared blood across pale skin and torn skin, all they can see is his affection. Arousal sloughs thick through their veins, and all at once they need to feel him inside them, a desperate need to be utterly ruined.

Blaidd gives them enough space to pull at the shreds of their trousers, impatiently kicking them off. Their hands raise to pluck apart their torn shirt, ripping it further until the fabric spills down their arms and fully exposes their chest.

The moment they're bare a hand delves between finely trembling thighs, soft sighs slipping from parted lips when they trail their fingertips through damp hair, between slick folds. Blaidd watches rapt as he yanks the ties of his armor, removing the bare minimum and all but ripping apart the ties to his leathers beneath. He pulls free his cock, heavy in his palm as he brings the other hand to his mouth, using teeth to pry open a gauntlet and send it flying to the grass beside. He bats Aderyn's hand aside, thick fingers gliding through their arousal and the heel of his palm pressed tight to their mound, eliciting a sharp gasp from their mouth. They grind against him, seeking that spark of friction against their swollen clit

Aderyn throws back their head and keens, a high and wanton sound. Halfway to delirium already, they cant their hips forward, bringing a hand down to slip two fingers deep within their heat. They work their hand steadily, sliding in a third as they stretch and shiver and moan, beneath Blaidd's towering frame. He drinks deeply of the sight, claws catching on the back of their hand as they fuck their dripping cunt, guiding them along with purposeful rubs of his palm. Their core tightens as arousal spills from them, and impatient for more Aderyn spreads their fingers, crying out sharply. It isn't enough, but it will have to be. They wish to feel it, feel him; splitting them open and taking his place between their spread legs.

The inevitable pain will only heighten it all.

Aderyn pulls their soaked hand free, gazes at the shining slick coating their fingers, and looks up to Blaidd with eyes heavily lidded. He catches their raised arm, fingers wrapping around their slim wrist, and pulls them up to bring the hand to his mouth. His tongue runs from wrist to the tip of their middle finger, rasping roughly against their palm; a low, pleased sound rumbles from within his chest at their taste, and before Aderyn can even put thought to feeling embarrassed about it, he's spreading open their thighs further and kneeling before them.

Their muscles twitch with every movement as they bring their knees to his sides, ankles locked together against the small of his back. Blaidd leans down over them, hand beside their face with his nose brushing over the bite he'd left on them. It stings, but they chase the feeling; hips shifting forward to encourage him to move, head turned to the side to expose more of their ruined shoulder. A badge of pride, a point of sheer delight. Blaidd lightly drags his teeth over their raw and tender skin, opening the wound to make it bleed anew, the moment he takes himself in hand and brushes the tapered tip of his cock through their silken folds. The glide is easy, wet and wanting as they are; Aderyn arches their back and breathes out his name, fingertips dragging through the grass when he slides home.

The stretch burns, as they knew it would; halfway there and Aderyn claws at the grass, core set aflame as Blaidd pulls his cock from their slicked hole. They take a breath, will themself to relax; he thrusts forward, going an inch or two deeper, and for a moment Aderyn swears they feel him nestled in their stomach.

He fills them very nearly perfectly, cunt tightening around his shaft like a vise of silk-wrapped steel. They clench hard through the burn, chasing the high he brings them as he rocks his hips forward and back. He thrusts slow and shallow, giving them time to adjust; his cock widens and flares at the base, thicker than their wrist, and though he growls lowly, impatiently, still he holds himself back from doing them harm. He bites down once more on their shoulder when his movements turn faster, cock sliding easier into their cunt as the stretch and relax around him.

Aderyn gasps when he thrusts into them harshly, feels the swollen knot at the base of his cock brush against their folds. Their back arches clear off the ground, toes curling and legs tightening around his waist as he fills them to the brim. There is a moment of held breath, as they swallow down their every cry and simply allow themself to feel. The ache in their shoulder and back, the pleasant tingle deep in their core, delicious stretch of their dripping cunt around his thick shaft. They cannot find their breath, when Blaidd pulls himself from them until barely an inch rests inside, before snapping his hips forward.

The armor he still wears drags against their bare thighs as the wolf loses himself with a snarl, but Aderyn barely notices the bruises that bloom on their fair skin. His groin slaps against them as he splits them open, heavy cock rubbing against their walls in a way that sets their nerves alight. Pleasure welling up from within with every pump, every thrust; Blaidd takes no quarter as he sets his pace, bruising and fast as he slams into them, again and again.

Stars dance behind their heavy lids as Aderyn jerks their hips, meeting his every thrust as their cunt pulses in time with their rushing heart. Their breath comes in shaking gasps each time he fills them to the breaking point, splayed open and dripping with utmost desire and desperation. They clench hard around his shaft, summoning the energy to curve the corner of their mouth into a small smirk at the sight of his eyes darkening at the pressure. Blaidd keeps his eyes locked on their face as he presses impossibly deeper within them, claws raking through the dirt and something akin to their name, whispered tenderly through his growls.

Molten heat drags through their veins, expression pinched into something half-feral. Aderyn throws back their head, dark hair sticking to the side of their face and neck from blood and sweat. Their core tightens and clenches with every hardened inch of him sliding home, setting them alight from the inside out. Warmth licks up their spine and surges through their veins, lips parting in a silent scream as their cunt clenches, encouraging him to go harder, faster, I can take it -

Blaidd's thrusts turn erratic, and through the haze Aderyn feels something akin to pride. He's losing composure, and it's happening because of them. His groin slams against them, making them cry out sharply; they know there will be a plethora of marks later, from the rough drag of his still-armored body and the punishing strength of his thrusts. Aderyn's vision blurs as the tightening in their core threatens to snap, and they bring a trembling hand to where their bodies join, pads of their fingertips circling their swollen pearl at the top of their cunt. The effect is instant, as they drag their heels down the curve of his ass, scream caught in their throat when the pressure against their clit becomes almost too much. Just a teasing touch, just a taste; the sensations are too much yet not enough, sparks dancing on their skin as their fingers circle faster over that small bundle of nerves, cunt pulsing around his thick shaft.

Just a little more, a little nudge, and they -

Blaidd moves, quick as a flash, to bury his teeth in their shoulder. He bites down roughly, making Aderyn cry out as they bend and arch, hand nearly blurring at their cunt as they feel their peak rush forward. They crest the edge as he slams forward, burying himself as deep as their body allows; they come with his name dancing on a scream, and their blood blooming bright across his tongue.

Hands wrap tight to their waist, claws dragging scores of raised lines over their hips. Blaidd holds them steady as he growls against their shoulder, thrusts turning sloppy as he fucks them through their orgasm, pulling them harshly forward and burying himself to the hilt. Trapped by tooth and claw, Aderyn clenches their aching cunt around him as he thrusts hard into them once, twice, thrice; he releases their shoulder to a mess of smeared sweat and blood, throwing his head back as he paints their inner walls with his spend, holding them tight enough their bones creak.

Aderyn trembles beneath him, swallowing down air as their pulse pounds in their ears. Their thighs tremble and their shoulder screams, but still they rock their hips, slowly, milking his shaft for everything he can give them, lashes fluttering lazily. They bite down on their bottom lip as Blaidd shudders through his peak, chest rumbling a low growl.

Things turn quiet after a time, with naught but shared heaving breaths and the steady weight of him against them. Aderyn struggles to lower their legs, muscles locked and feeling both weightless and far too heavy as they all but melt to the grass below. They hiss quietly beneath their breath as errant aches make themselves known, core pulsing pleasantly even as their thighs chafe with every breeze. Blaidd pulls his softening cock from them, takes the time to run his tongue over the torn bite on their shoulder, and all but collapses at their side.

Aderyn lets slip a small bit of laughter as they curl to face him, hand reaching blindly out until their fingertips brush the thick fur of his neck.

Hell of a day.

[investigativelewis]

August 12th.

Dear Sunny @tangyguk,

Here we are, writing the letter you looked so forward to! Take the words with all the love in the world, as all that we have written here is sincere and full of affection.

Our dear sunshine is as excited and happy as the sun itself, no wonder that's her nickname. You fill our chat with joy and your eagerness to participate in everything is something to envy—in a good way obviously!

Waking up to a hundred texts can be overbearing, we admit! But the group wouldn't be the same without them. Nor without you in general. There isn't a dull moment whenever you are around.

And it had always been that way. From the moment we said the first hello, you had shown us everything you possibly could. Happiness, sincerity, power of will, just like a Sunday morning. If we have so much going on, and so much to be thankful for, that is certainly because of you.

So to you, Sunny side up, we want to wish you nothing but a beautiful and full life. Full of love, full of life, full of wonders. Much travel, and a million different things to see! Remember us whenever you can, and keep us close to your heart just like we keep you.

We love you dearly, and we will be always here. Waiting for your passionate talk and million little things. We cannot have a good day without running into you first.

May your life be a world of possibilities. May it always shine you a light, wherever you go!

And if you are ever lost or out of light, we will be here to take your hand and lead the way. We promise to always be by your side, no matter the distance. Together, forever!

To us, you are a bright star, one that give us strength and hope to always face a new day.

So let's face it together, and go all the way, as you always say! Because if it's by your side, there is nothing we can't really do.

With a lot of love, and dear friendship,

Arina @rcseluv, Eli @magicshopew, Lu @cottonjaw, Chae @bibliotae, Yuna @yundota, Tae @agustlee, Nari @narimiese, Sarah @investigativelewis, Harin @callmeharin and Hani @itshanic 🧡

Your dream team.

[someotherdog]

for a long time, barbie had hoped she’d open the front door and see suvi looking back at her. she dreamed of her returning, either staying in town for good or leaving again and taking barbie with her. after years of nary a word, barbie slowly gave up on that hope. she stopped dreaming of her life out in the world with suvi. she never forgot her, but she had to pretend she did. for her sanity. for her heart.

turned out, suvi would end up on her doorstep one day… just sixteen years too late. blinking rapidly, she wasn’t sure she was truly seeing suvi or just conjuring her up for a moment before suvi said her name. it was real. she was real. it didn’t feel relieving. it felt like a cruel joke. she had waited so long for her return, a piece of her heart missing, and now suvi had returned. that piece of her heart came back. so why did she feel so angry? so confused?

“oh.” barbie faltered, glancing down at her heels. “i’m sorry.” barbie’s own father died several years ago. she wondered if suvi ever heard about it, but as far as she knew, suvi cut off contact with everyone in town. like barbie, suvi had an incredibly complicated relationship with her own family. to hear she returned after her father’s death was equal parts understandable and surprising. she felt a dull pain in her heart that suvi still hadn’t returned for her, but barbie knew better now. clearly, the love she felt for suvi when they were teenagers was a lot stronger than the love suvi had for her—if she had any at all.

suvi didn’t know where else to go. barbie pressed her lips together, nodding her head back as she processed the information. “hm, okay.” the weight of the items in her arms grew heavier by the second. readjusting her shoulder bag, she tried to think of an appropriate response. “i’m kind of late for work, suvi.” that wasn’t what she wanted to say. she wanted to scream where were you, suvi?! she wanted to scream, but kept a handle on her emotions. slightly. “i don’t… i can’t have you stay here while i’m at work, okay?” she didn’t think suvi was a thief or anything, but then again, she didn’t know suvi at all anymore. “do you have a hotel room or something?”

suvi waited, breath caught in her lungs like she was caught in a wind tunnel. time stretched on too soon, only shaken out of her fear, grief and anxiety as she hear footsteps approach the door. everything dropped away, she wasn't even sure if it would be barbie who answered, but it didn't matter because all anxiety and fear disappeared as time slowed down. like if she wasn't looking right at them, she could forget them just for that moment in time.

the door swung open and the threat of fresh tears returned. she had just managed to calm herself as she drove into town, like crossing some magical border that brought back all the childish feelings she held in her chest for so many years. all the anger and hurt, all the fear and longing. for a new life, for the life she wanted, away from the betrayal of nilsson, her twin brother who had always had her back until those final days.

"barbie—" somehow she was still surprised. her friend older and more beautiful than seemed fair to her. the magical border wasn't done, love and hope and happiness trying to break through as she looked into the shocked eyes of her once was best friend.

"my dad died." she should have started with something else. apologies. explanations. something else. something that hurt less, that didn't feel as manipulative. not that she was intentionally doing it, but she knew that if barbie still cared, it would illicit some sort of reaction in her too. "i know i have no right. i know, but i drove all night and somehow ended up here. it's not fair, i know, i know, but i didn't know where else to go."

it wasn't like she could go home, she would never be welcomed there. she was surprised that kasper had even called. her older brother always resented her for how much she hated their mother. never in her lifetime did she expect he'd talk to her again, let alone give her the respect of letting her know her father had passed.

[draconic-ichor]

If you're still taking requests; Morgott and the Tarnished dirty talk? I need to read sexy banter 🥺

I had a bit of fun with this one!

Distraction

Morgott/female tarnished

Elden Ring dabble

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, suggestive speech

Summary: Morgott and the Lady Tarnished try to drum up a bit of fun during a boring assembly

It was customary for the royal couple to attend assemblies within the capital. Morgott and the Lady had been sitting through the one currently for a good few hours now, the speaking nobles droning on and on seemingly endlessly.

Even Morgott was beginning to tire, the tarnished bored beyond measure. She began to shift about in her chair, organizing and reorganizing the desk they were both sat at.

“Peace, beloved mine.” Morgott whispered, placing a hand on her thigh under the desk.

The Lady Tarnished stilled, giving him an impish look. She spread her legs a bit, urging his hand on.

She didn’t quite know what she was after, any type of spice to this day would be welcoming; Morgott was less than accommodating, however. He simply pulled his hand away, trying to sooth, “We’ll have time for all that later.”

The tarnished deflated a bit, listening to the dry speaker for a time more. Unable to condemn herself to death by dullness she shifted a bit closer, getting Morgott’s attention.

“And what would his Lordship do exactly?” She whispered, giving him a look both challenging and sultry.

“I have some ideas…Nary a word of which should be uttered here with so many prying ears.” He whispered back.

The Lady slid a blank paper along the desk until it was on Morgott’s side, smirking, “Then write it.”

“My Lady can’t possibly wish to hear my secrets so badly?” He chuckled quietly.

“Humor me.” She leaned on her folded hands, not yielding.

Morgott sat still for some moments, seemingly paying renewed attention to the assembly. With a huff he suddenly took a quill to the paper, face stone. From any outside perspectives it would seem he was just writing up any common letter of business.

The Lady knew better however, having to bite her lip to contain her ever bubbling excitement.

Morgott slid the paper back, gaze forward.

The tarnished attempt to glance at it as smoothly as possible.

It reading:

‘Firstly, I shall put that beautiful mouth to better use than distractions during business. My beloved finds herself quite the hungry little creature…I intend to quell that appetite fully.’

The tarnished read it over, taking up the quill herself to scratch a response. She slid the paper back once finished, proceeding to pretend interest in the assembly once more.

Morgott’s good eye shifter down to read:

‘I’ll gladly put my mouth to my King’s uses, although his assets may require more than simply my mouth. He is quite an endowed King after all.’

She heard him make a sound before the paper was slid back for her to read. The couple playfully wrote back and forth, all while pretending to keep up with the assembly and maintaining stoic expressions:

‘How dost thou wish to service her Lord, hm?’

‘By mouth, by breast, any part my Lord finds purchase. I’ll kneel before his throne pliantly.’

‘Thou art quite…pliant.’

‘Only for his Lord.’

‘An honor I hold dear. I quite enjoy twisting thee upon thyself like a sugared confectionery.’

‘I enjoy when you press me into the bed like a beast.’

‘Perhaps we can indulge both fancies after the assembly?’

‘I’ll have to check my schedule, his Lordship keeps me quite busy.’

‘I’m quite positive he would not miss thou for an hour.’

‘Just an hour?’

‘After all this banter, the possibility is likely.’

‘Does the descriptive use of ‘horny’ apply to my Lord in more that his appearance as of late?”

‘It would be an adequate use of the term…”

‘Poor thing.’

‘Doth thee value thy current dress?’

‘Not particularly. Why?’

The Lady received the paper back, now quite full of delicate inked words. But as her eyes glanced down to read his response her cheeks reddened. She looked quickly up at him, in shock. Morgott sat unmoved, a shadow of a smirk painting his lips. The Lady looked back to the paper:

‘As soon as this damned assembly comes to a close I’m going to tear it away piece by piece with my teeth. I promise thee.’

[cannibalisticskittles]

a secret, shared

The morning after a spat of sickness and a deeply unpleasant dream that brought him face-to-face with Cazador for the first time in — well, not nearly long enough — Astarion watches his erstwhile defender rise from her bedroll and slip away into the woods with nary a word — nor, it seems, an ounce of preparation.

Terrible timing, that.

It’s been scarcely two days since he’d dared to try a nibble, two days since he’d felt sated for the first time, and two days since Amity declared that she trusted him completely. Awfully naïve of her. He knows the others must think so too, but they listen to her. For some reason. But now she’s left in such a hurry that she didn’t even take her staff. And it would be such an inconvenience if she got herself killed while she still has some use in her.

He could point out her absence and let someone else collect her — Wyll, he imagines, would dutifully trudge through the forest to play the part of a hero — but that would mean interjecting in more of their furtive whispering. So he’ll… follow.

A pity. He was having such a pleasant time listening to those vivid, cheerful recitations of their various wet dreams.

Amity isn’t hard to find, nor does it take long to find her. He’d be worried if it did; a week spent in sunlight shouldn’t dull his vision enough to not notice the obvious signs that someone has passed this way recently. Though, truthfully, he hears her before he sees her.

She’s pacing circles around a small clearing with a half-rotted, smoldering log in the center, tail swishing behind her, muttering to herself in a language he can’t quite recognize.

“In the mood for a morning walk, are we?” he calls out.

Amity startles at that, stumbling over her feet as she turns. She catches herself in a half-crouch, hand outstretched, tendrils of fire flickering between her fingers.

“—Astarion.” Her shoulders lose some of their tension as she recognizes him. She straightens and clasps her hands together, extinguishing the flames. “I — yes, I’m just… out for a walk. Getting some fresh air. Thought it would help after… last night.”

Amity’s always had a rather vivid coloration, purple as she is, but Astarion notes that she looks distinctly… flushed at the moment.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain dream, would it?” he asks. At least she has the sense to reminisce in private.

But his words elicit a scowl. Her face near-glows now, from violet to vivid magenta. “I—”

Whatever she was going to say, she stops herself quickly and presses the heels of her palms against both eyes. When she lowers them, her face is neutral, and a mite less bright. “…yes. Yes! Yes. Everyone had perfectly pleasant dreams, and I came here to… bask in mine. And think about how… lovely it was.”

Her tail lashes furiously.

“Lovely indeed,” he murmurs. A terrible liar, he thinks. Such obvious tells. But lying about what, exactly?

“Perfectly pleasant,” she agrees. By now, her tail has swung long enough that she’s noticed its frenetic arc. She catches it in one hand. “Very…” She seems unable to think of what else to say. When she speaks again, she’s abandoned the thought in favor of a new one. “It’s fascinating that we all seemed to have — exactly the same dream, is it not?”

Astarion tilts his head and regards her with narrowed eyes. It feels as though she’s… angling for something. Searching for details without outright asking for them? “I wouldn’t say that. I imagine none but Lae’zel pined for her Gith queen. Unless you have a confession to make?”

“Me?” Amity blinks wide, startled eyes at him. Or… he thinks they’re startled, anyway. It’s a touch hard to tell, solid as they are. Gold straight through. But they’re certainly wide, at least. “No. I did not dream of Vlaakith.”

Astarion clasps his hands together. “Then it seems we each had a visitor all to ourselves.” Unbidden, Cazador appears in his mind’s eye. His lip curls at the thought.

“But even so,” she says. “Everyone dreamed of… pleasant temptations, heart’s desires, things of that sort…?” The tip of her tail twitches in her hand.

She most certainly is angling for details — without even the courtesy of offering her own. And he can’t say he’s not a little curious. “Yes, I suppose we did.” He leans closer. “But what did you see?”

“Oh, I don’t want to bore you,” she says. Her tone sounds as though she’s aiming for airy, but it doesn’t quite work. “Our dreams were likely very similar, after all. I saw someone… very familiar to me, and they were…” Amity releases her tail then and swipes a hand through her short hair. “Were…”

And then she grits her teeth, snarls something that makes the tips of his ears warm, though he has no idea what she’s just said, and throws down her arms in a quick, harsh motion. “—awful!”

Flames spill from the tips of her fingers and shoot towards the still-smoldering log with enough force to tip it end over end, rolling towards the edge of the clearing. His tadpole burns momentarily with a blistering rage that lasts only until Amity gasps out, “shit!” She claps a hand to her mouth, and with the other, waves frantically at the log until a spray of water extinguishes the flames — and blasts away a sapling several feet away, for good measure.

Not the intended effect, if her aghast expression is anything to judge by.

“Are you always so reactive? Not that I’m complaining,” he adds. There’s some fun in the chaos of it.

“No,” Amity groans, “not like this. Ever since the ship — the tadpole — it’s like I’m relearning magic all over again.” She shakes her head. “And my control is… tenuous. Now I find I can’t get upset without risking a forest fire.”

“More than upset, my dear. You felt livid.”

“…felt?”

Astarion taps his temple.

Amity’s face twists as she mutters, “stupid little worm.”

He chuckles, and she frowns. “What?”

“The anger,” he says, “is new. I was beginning to think you weren’t capable of it.” Plaintive, he’s seen. Fretful, he’s seen. But mostly, annoyingly, persistently chipper — even in the midst of incinerating goblins. Even after everything. If traversing the Hells and having a parasite crawl into her eye socket hasn’t been enough to dampen her enthusiasm, it’s hard to imagine what could. “This dream of yours… what did you really see?”

“I…” Her shoulders sag. “…I dreamt of my mother,” she says. “And an offer. A birthright.”

Astarion can’t conceal the curl of his lip. “You dreamt of power? That was your nightmare?” Maybe not as salacious as, say, Gale’s, but… all that fuss, and her dream was exactly like all the others?

Amity buries her head in her hands. “My mother is a pit fiend,” comes her muffled voice. “A devil.”

“You’re half-devil?” He can’t keep the surprise from his voice.

“Yes.” She raises her head. “It sounds worse than it is.”

“Wouldn’t that make you a… cambion? Or something of the sort?” The dichotomy of devils isn’t his area of expertise.

She shakes her head. “Cambions are similar insofar as they are half-fiend, but that is where the similarity ends. Anatomically and cosmologically, we are quite different. I’m a tiefling through and through, honest. I’ve tested,” she adds, “thoroughly. I have no fiendish traits, no affinity for stealing souls, and I could swim unharmed in holy water, if the mood struck me. But — you’re welcome to put that to the test if it puts you at ease!”

“That… won’t be necessary.” At least, not at this particular moment. The conversation is long enough as it is, and it’s not as though he’s in the habit of carrying holy water with him. “You’ve said you trust me, now let’s say I trust you.”

And he certainly can — say so, that is.

Amity smiles at that, though it’s quick to fade.

“…at any rate, the power she offered began with a change, to make me more like what I could have been. More like she thinks I ought to be. Like her. I dreamt of…” She looks down at her hands as she flexes them. “...the rending of flesh to make me anew. Skin tearing. Bones cracking. And… more. But suffice it to say, it did not get better from there.”

Her mouth twists in a grimace.

“And I don’t know why. I don’t think I’d enjoy getting tadpole-induced—” Amity’s face goes magenta again. “—well, dreams of that nature. But I don’t understand why mine seemed to have no temptation at all, just discomfort and pain. Was this the best the tadpole could conjure up for me? Am I bound to this fate? Or does it just think it’s funny?” Magic crackles at her fingers once more. She grips her horns, and the sparks die out harmlessly against them. “Astarion, what was yours about?”

“Mine? There was no ripping or tearing, that’s certain.”

“But what was it?” She presses. “If I could figure out some pattern in the dreams, maybe I’ll understand why mine was—” She shakes her head. “Did it speak to a true desire? Or something smaller, or more shallow? What did it think you wanted?”

What he wanted had nothing to do with what he saw.

“I saw someone… familiar,” he says. “And… enticing.”

And oh, how she stares. Astarion inspects his nails rather than submit himself to the scrutiny of her gaze directly, but she seems to have seen something that’s given him away anyway.

“Astarion…” Amity’s voice is hesitant, but not enough to stop her from asking, “…did you really?”

It feels pointless to lie, watched as closely as he is now. “I…” He looks away. “…no. I dreamt of him. My old master, Cazador.”

“Oh.” There is a moment of silence. “That sounds… less than pleasant.”

His lip curls. “Much less. I — we don’t need to talk about it.”

Amity’s response is a slow nod. “I… suppose that nixes the theory that whoever is fool enough to rely on the tadpole is punished with nightmares while the rest get to dream in peace.” It was she, after all, that was first to use it.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say foolish,” Astarion corrects. “After all, if you hadn’t used it, we wouldn’t have been blessed with these lovely new powers.”

“Powers?”

“Oh, yes,” he says. “Hadn’t you noticed?”

She shakes her head. “That’s the trade-off, is it? A nightmare, then a boon?”

“A fair exchange, I’d say.”

She frowns. “Perhaps… but now that we know, we should avoid it. I’m not keen on experiencing a repeat of last night — neither the nightmare nor the splitting headache that preceded it.”

“On the contrary,” he says. “Someone planted these worms in our heads, and we may as well make use of them while they’re there… and wring out every last drop of power they can offer us. What harm can a nightmare bring, after all?”

She watches him speak, her brow creasing, then nods absently. “...maybe you’re right.”

So easily swayed.

“Still,” she says, “to have dreamed of such things… there must be a purpose to it, but what?”

He gets the distinct impression that if he allows her, she’ll lapse back into theorizing, and who knows when she’ll stop?

Instead, he changes the subject. There is one more thing he’s curious about.

“I’m sure it will become clear in due time. Now, this… devil mother of yours.” It doesn’t sound any less strange when he says it. “Are you… in contact with her?”

“Not often, but… on occasion.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “I can’t help but notice that when our transformations seemed inevitable and some of us were looking for solutions, you kept that little detail to yourself.”

Of course, they know now that last night’s bout of illness was only a precursor to these new abilities. But they didn’t know that then.

“It doesn’t work like that,” she says immediately. “I can call on her, but that doesn’t mean she’ll answer.”

“And did you?”

“…no,” Amity admits. “I did not think we were slated to die last night. And… I believe that she would have made herself known to us by now if she thought I could not resolve this problem without her help. She is not averse to meddling. And…” She is silent for a long moment. “Do you know what happens to most souls who end up in the Hells?”

“Eternal suffering?” Astarion suggests drily.

She inclines her head. “In a way. Most turn into lemures; slightly-sentient puddles of flesh existing in constant agony. Or nupperibos; stinking, waddling beasts. Quite blind, but very hungry. They exist only to eat whatever they can fit into their ravaged mouths… or to be eaten by another devil.”

“Lovely.”

“If—” She holds up a finger “—a soul in these states manages to toil faithfully and competently for long enough to be recognized by a superior, it might earn itself a promotion. To an imp. And the vast, vast majority do not survive that long.”

“And your point is?” He’s not in the mood to be lectured on the impurities of his soul, and Raphael’s recent appearance has sparked enough debate on the merits and dangers of deals with devils.

“That if you are determined to make a deal with a devil, you must always have a way out of that deal, or accept that a drawn-out, painful death as a sack of mutilated skin will be your fate.” She shakes her head. “There are ways to avoid this — if you have something very, very valuable, or a skill that they are in dire need of, a devil may accept that in lieu of your soul. Or you can try to find a loophole or clause that lets you slip free of the terms of the contract. Barring that, you can kill the devil in control of the contract, and hope that the contract is rendered null and void upon their death.”

Amity laces her fingers together and casts her eyes to the ground before speaking again.

“And none of this would be possible with her. My mother has centuries of writing contracts so airtight there is no possible way to be released from them except by fulfilling the terms to her exact specifications. And I do not believe we would manage to overcome her with might.” She tilts her head. “Now, a cambion… we could kill a cambion. But it’s still a risk, and I don’t have the means to summon Raphael, anyway. Not with what little we know about him.”

“Really? He seemed quite sure that we would call on him in our hour of need,” Astarion mutters.

“I would assume he knows something of what has been done to us and will conveniently appear when he thinks we’d be willing to accept whatever he offers us.”

“There’s devils for you.”

“That’s very much how they operate, I’ve found,” she agrees. “So, while death — and the oblivion of having your soul destroyed in ceremorphosis — would be unpleasant, I, personally, would consider either of those fates better than whatever would come from a deal with my mother.” She inclines her head. “But I concede that what you do with your own soul is not for me to decide. If you’re still interested in trying your luck with her, I can write down the runes and materials you’ll need for a proper summoning when I get back to my pack.”

Astarion considers this.

“Now that our transformation no longer seems imminent, that won’t be necessary. But I’ll keep it in mind.” He’s not looking to trade one life of servitude for another, but… it is useful to keep his options close at hand. “Just make sure the next time you’re sitting on potentially useful information like that, you’ll share it, hmm?”

She nods. “I will. You have my word.”

“Wonderful. Now, shall we return to camp? I’m sure they miss us terribly. And we have places to be, and so many people to kill.”

Amity makes a face, but steps closer.

“I suppose we ought to. But if anyone asks, I spent all night thinking only of… of courtesans and garden parties.” And then she reconsiders. “No. Of getting very, very drunk at the Blushing Mermaid. With the courtesans, I suppose. Please say nothing that contradicts this.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”