#or do you need a price tag to tell you you're about to experience the mental journey of a lifetime?

[destiel-wings]

i saw the umpteenth post on twitter about how fanfiction isn't literature and i am SO MAD, like, it's not hard to judge a story by its quality

but no, god forbid, it's only literature if you sell it for money.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

[runninriot]

Inspired by the prompt Love is saying "I love you" even when you're scared by @quinns-shadowy-arts for @steddielovemonth day 20

Give and Take

wc: 1737 | rated: t | cw: mentions of drinking and smoking weed | tags: Hurt Feelings (past), Fear of Rejection, Eddie realises he has a crush on Steve, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers

  

Eddie is just about to leave when Wayne calls after him. Tells him not to stay out too late and to say Hi to Steve. And then he ends how he always does, never lets Eddie go without:

„Love ya, son."

Eddie smiles, gives his uncle an affirming nod before making his way out of the door.

He's heard it so many times now, these words his uncle says so easily, and he wished he could do the same.

It's something Eddie struggles with a lot; telling people he loves them is generally scary as shit.

Because in his experience, to love means to hurt because loving always comes with a price, a piece of your heart you give away with no chance of getting it back.

He’s given away too many of those.

Gave a piece to his mother when he was six. Proudly holding up the card his teacher helped him write for mother’s day. “I love you, mommy” it said on the heart-shaped paper and Eddie smiled, toothless and wide. Got a dead-eyed glare in return when she threw it on top of a pile of unopened letters. Not saying a word, not even acknowledging his extra neat hand-writing or the colourful flowers he’d drawn on the back.

He gave one piece to Jenny in grade 6. The girl with the blue eyes and rosy cheeks who was always so nice to him. One day after school she took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. Eddie felt like flying, told her he liked her a lot, thinking she might feel the same. But Jenny just scrunched her nose, pure disgust written on her face when she told him “Eww, no. It was just a dare.”

He lost a large piece in high school, gave it to Nick. The pretty boy with the seductive smile who dragged him behind the bleachers and stuck his tongue down Eddie’s throat. The kiss was too wet and too sloppy but Eddie thought maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Let Nick push him to his knees and willingly opened up wide. Not once, not twice, it went on for a month. And Eddie felt wanted but apparently wanted too much when he asked him to be his boyfriend.

Eddie learned to keep his mouth shut. To keep the remaining pieces to himself.

-🖤-

Steve is already waiting in his car that’s parked outside the Munson’s home, waving happily when he sees Eddie step outside.

They’ve made plans to spend the evening at Lover’s Lake, have a couple of beers and maybe a smoke while watching the sunset.

They do that often, just hanging out together. Enjoying the long summer days and each other’s company.

It’s always nice to spend time with Steve because with him Eddie never has the feeling he needs to tone himself down. Can ramble and rant, can be as loud and impulsive as he naturally is without having to worry about scaring him off. Steve never makes him feel bad about himself, accepts Eddie as he is.

Being with Steve always feels right.

They get along. They’re friends now. And the more time Eddie spends with Steve, the more he understands him, sees him.

He’s vulnerable, like Eddie. Has had his fair share of people misjudging him based on what they see on the outside. Where people assume Eddie is scary and mean, they think of Steve as being strong but dumb. Where they think Eddie’s only interests are metal and nerd games, they think Steve’s life revolves around nothing but sports and girls.

But Eddie knows better. Knows all of Steve’s layers.

Sure, Steve does love his silly ball games (something Eddie will never understand) but he also loves to cook and bake. He hates the taste of ginger and is afraid of moths. He can’t sleep with his back turned to the door and he likes the sound of heavy rain pounding against the window. He hates to read but he loves to listen if someone takes the time to read to him.

Eddie cherishes Steve’s honesty. The way he’s not afraid to ask questions if he doesn’t understand something. The way he’ll tell you, straight forward, when you’re being unreasonable.

Eddie likes the way his eyes sparkle when he’s happy. Likes the way Steve snorts when he laughs really hard. Eddie likes the snappy tone he uses when someone (usually Dustin) gets on his nerves. He likes Steve's fierceness, and his courage, and how much he cares.

Liking Steve is easy because he’s a genuinely nice guy with a big heart who never lets his friends down and always gives so much.

Eddie feels lucky to have him in his life, would give everything to keep him there.

-🖤-

They are lying side by side on a blanket, their minds comfortably buzzed from the joint they shared, while the sun sets over Lover’s Lake, painting their bodies in a dark orange hue. A gentle breeze caresses their exposed skin, just a warm touch of air drifting over their sun warmed bodies.

It’s quiet out here, now that most of the people that came to enjoy a day at the lake have already gone home.

Eddie thoughtlessly turns his head to look at Steve who is lying there with his eyes closed, basking in the tranquillity of the moment. Calm and content, so still and at peace. So different from his usual demeanour – always alert, always a little tense, always ready to step in if someone requires his help.

He's... beautiful like that.

And suddenly it is like something snaps in Eddie's brain.

He can’t tear his eyes away, lets them wander over Steve’s soft features and the expanse of his body. Wonders, foolishly, what Steve’s skin would feel like underneath his fingertips, what it would be like to hold him, maybe even get a taste of his lips.

    Oh no. Oh fuck.

Something in his gut coils and twists, ripples through him like an electric shock wave when the realisation hits.

It was inevitable, really, and maybe deep down he already knew for much longer than he’d ever admit.

It’s a bitter truth to accept but the confession comes easy now that he allows his heart to speak.

He’s in love with Steve.

Can’t have him, clearly. But that’s just how it is. That’s always how it is.

Eddie turns his head back, eyes pinched close in frustration as he tries to breathe through the stinging pain in his chest. His heart pumps so fast it makes him dizzy, makes him feel a little like spinning on a carousel that’s going too fast.

    SHIT! Eddie thinks or did he said it out loud? Because Steve startles beside him and Eddie can feel him ruffling at their shared blanket when he moves.

   “Eddie? What’s wrong?”

Eddie looks back at Steve who’s suddenly so much closer than he was before –  brows pinched together in question, with small worry lines showing on his forehead, his face hovering over Eddie’s.

   “I just realised something,” Eddie answers too honest, doesn’t know where to go from here but he can’t find it in him to lie.

    “Oh,” Steve breathes out, his expression softening as the seconds pass. “Wanna talk about it?”

   “Uh, I- no. I’d rather not.”

The look Steve gives him shouldn’t sent him spiralling even more but goddamn does he look cute with that stupid smirk tugging at his lips.

Eddie wants to bite him, feels a deep red blush take hold of his face. Maybe he can put it off as a sun burn?

   “Who knew that the great Eddie Munson could be so timid?” Steve jokes and okay.

So much for trying to play it cool.

   “I’m not-“ Eddie takes a deep breath, “It’s just something I can’t tell you.”

Steve sits up and without being prompted, Eddie does the same. For a moment they just look at each other.

   “You know you can tell me everything.”

If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d think there’s something like disappointment ringing in Steve’s voice.

   “Yeah, hah, uh- not this, I guess.”

Eddie looks away, can’t hold Steve’s gaze. Nervously he starts to play with the rings on his fingers until a warm hand stops him, causing him to look back up.

   “Try me.” Steve’s voice is soft and Eddie knows he can trust him but-

    No.

He can’t. This isn’t worth losing him over. Eddie knows how this is going to go. He can’t give anymore pieces away.

   “I-“

Only now Eddie realises Steve’s hand is still resting on his own, his thumb gently rubbing circles over the back of it.

Steve has never touched him like this before, so tender it almost doesn’t feel real.

   “I like you a lot, Steve.” The words sputter out before he can even try to hold them back.

Eddie winces, tries to avert his gaze but before he can turn his head to the side there’s a hand on his cheek and a firm press of lips on his mouth and-

Eddie can taste weed, and beer, and the chips they shared. Steve’s breath is hot as he sighs into the kiss, his lips are plush and soft... they’re so fucking soft Eddie feels like sinking right into them.

He allows his eyes to flutter close as he deepens the kiss, wants more of the taste, more of Steve. His hands find their way to Steve’s hips, digging and pulling like he just can’t help himself, needs Steve closer.

They part when their startled laughter breaks the tension as Steve tumbles ungraciously on top of Eddie, looking down at him with glistening eyes.

   “Fuck, Steve.” Eddie feels giddy, breathless.

   “Yeah. Fuck.” Now it is Steve’s turn to blush.

Somehow their lips find their way back to each other, like it’s easy. And maybe it is.

Maybe it is easy because they both want it.

   “Want you, Eddie. Wanted you for so long but I was scared to tell you that I-“ Steve inhales shakily.

Maybe they both feel the same?

   “I love you, Steve.”

This isn’t just a piece. This is his whole heart he holds it out for Steve to take, hoping that this time, he’ll maybe get something in return.

Eddie holds his breath, feels cold sweat running down his spine as he waits for a rejection that never comes.

   “I love you, Eddie.”

[caramelloss]

Hihi ada! I really love ur blog and I'm keeping up with all of ur polls for the new fanfic! Any ideas for the title yet?

hi!! i love u so much thank you!!! why don't i just be super nice and tell you the names of the chapters as well; they're more creative then the title! just to note, once my last poll hit 350 votes, i chose the option with the highest percent. i know the poll lasts for 24hrs, but in order to produce a chapter by tomorrow i had to be quick with the decision. alsoooo since you guys truly blew up the polls, and the tag list blog, here's some little sneak peaks to what chapters feature some characters..! TO PREFACE!: no characters will die until each character has had a chance to form a bond with reader. also i must admit this fic may end up being around 12 chapters, so please, if your fav character isn't here yet, they will be. also, there will be small romantic moments shared between reader and other characters no matter what character the chapter focuses on. i will unfortunately have to stop after chapter 5 though, because too much would be spoiled about the fic.. but, i love you!!

"the book of the last blood witch"

chapter one; 'the emperor has no clothes' – this chapter focuses on reader's backstory. how she lost her coven, and how she survived without them. reader, in a moment of grief, will not drink the blood she needs to live on. death (rio vidal) will save her, for a price. because of this deal, many years down the line, rio calls in her chit.. this is how reader will end up on the witches road.

chapter two; 'first impressions never last' – reader will meet the coven, which will consist of lilia calderu, alice wu gulliver, rio vidal, agatha harkness, jennifer kale, and billy kaplan. sharon will have died at this point, so the first trial will be complete, and wanda will not appear yet. reader will attempt to keep her identity as a blood witch hidden; but it will ultimately be revealed by agatha in spite. as the coven turns against reader, one witch in particular sides with her. the coven begins their journey further down the road, and suspicions rise among the witches as to what you're really doing on the road.

chapter three; 'dreaming of silver curls' - in this chapter, we have a time skip between the campfire and the middle of the night. reader finds herself unable to sleep, and wanders around outside of her tent (they have tents). lilia has a vision of a kiss between herself and reader. it causes her to stir awake. reader, unaware, stares off at the moon and thinks of her coven. lilia, unable to sleep again, joins reader. reader confesses to lilia that she doesn't want to be there, and that she shouldn't even be alive. the two witches bond, and share an intimate, yet comforting moment. the chapter progresses as the coven reaches the next trial, which is alice's trial. after lilia is burned by the curse, reader is sentimental and protective towards her. lilia finds it endearing, but she doesn't say so, too aware of the coven's feelings about reader. reader takes this personally, avoiding the older witch. when everyone is asleep, and you can't seem to find peace of mind, much like before, lilia joins you, knowing you'd be there. the chapter ends with lilia and rio defending you once agatha tries to convince the witches to kill you or leave you behind.

chapter four; 'you were better off in the dark' - this chapter will be shorter. it will be an intermittent one where reader talks about her experiences as a blood witch, telling the coven who she is, what happened to her sisters, and why rio brought her on the road. this sparks an emotional response from rio; something that will build later in the story. your relationship with the coven changes, and your bond with lilia becomes stronger. another witch on the road takes a liking to you, and you find that you and her have a lot in common.

chapter five; 'nimble fingers and quick wit'- the following morning, the salem seven attacks. in your attempt to flee, you and this witch exchange brooms. the coven is pulled down to the road when flying, but alice, (the witch you trade brooms with) is caught by two of the salem seven witches. the rest of the coven doesn't notice as they run from the threat, but you do. agatha yells for you to come into the trial, but you choose to save alice. agatha closes the doors, and you use your blood manipulation to deal with the two members of the salem seven. you save alice, and she learns a new fault of your power. she saves you by giving up a part of herself. you two make your journey through the woods to find the end of the trial, where you both talk, touch, and even confess. as the witches exit the road, and you're caught with alice, rio gets angry. it causes a lot of issue to the coven, because of what she does.

[l0v3tast3]

More young!reader and 141 maybeeee? I feel like I just need more headcanons and drabbles

Also maybe like, 141 reacting to reader randomly dropping information like "well, my mum's an alcoholic and she used to beat me"

And this is me speaking from experience cause I do that and like 🥲

✎ i think i got this request like almost a month ago now i am. so sorry lmao but i'm actually getting to it and that's what counts right? right. i pumped this out in like 2 hours which if you knew how i write you would be very impressed 😎

✎ tags: young!reader, military!reader, not proofread im too cool for that, just general fluff like one mention of simon being angsty about u dying ig?

♡ so soap and the reader are definitely really good friends. i don't really think he's like super "mushy"? i guess? like some people make him out to be (not that there's anything wrong with that i love that trope) because like, look at him. i love him but some of the stuff he says in the games is like super fucking #militaryman if that makes sense lmao

♡ you're friends in a sibling kind of way. you make fun of each other all of the time and play pranks with (and on) each other. he goes rough on you when you're sparring but always makes sure you're okay afterwards. a lot of the time he talks to you like you're a little kid in an annoying tone just to piss you off.

♡ simon definitely didn't really want to like you at first, partly because he didn't want to get close to you in case you died or got seriously injured or captured or whatever else could possibly happen. but you literally weaseled your way in as his friend.

♡ after a few weeks of being with the team, you picked up on their likes and dislikes. in particular, you learned which foods simon liked at the cafeteria, you learned what kind of books he read, etc. etc. and so ensued you doing nice things for him.

♡ you would grab him the protein bar he liked from the vending machine when you went to grab yourself or someone else something. if you went somewhere with cheap books, you would grab him one that was similar to what you saw him reading last. you always made it a point to get him cheap things so you could refuse if he tried to pay you back.

♡ most of the time, though, he would say he didn't want it when you handed it to him. you would just shrug and tell him to give it to someone else (you see him with whatever you got him not long after). other times, you'll just sit down next to him and talk to him out of nowhere. towards the beginning, it was more of you talking at him, but that was okay with you. it took longer than the others, but you wormed your way into his cold heart.

♡ price is your new father. he gives you advice on literally everything, whether or not you ask for it (you almost never do). he does the dad thing of the hands on the hips and legs kinda spread while he explains the topic in depth. he has a very vast wealth of knowledge, you come to learn.

♡ i feel like one time you would comment on price's outfit, saying it looked good and matched well one day and he would kind of take it to heart. from then on he'll occasionally ask you how his outfit is that day. he'll play it off as if he's joking, but deep down he's actually curious. you always make fun of him for the hat that's seemingly glued to his head, though.

♡ gaz fully leans into becoming your older brother. he doesn't deny it, he just laughs when someone says anything. also i feel like he'll literally do anything you want to do. he'll go shopping with you, he'll go to bookstores or antique stores or crystal places, literally anywhere. it's gotten to the point where you just tell him to go with you and he just grabs his coat.

♡ he also will play any video game with you and he always beats you at it. it literally does not matter if he's never even heard of this random game you just pulled out of some alternate dimension, he'll be better than you at it. he's also absolutely clueless about his natural talent; if you ask him what the hell he's doing right, he's just like "huh? 🤨🤨"

♡ yeah in regards to randomly dropping trauma like it's nothing, it's definitely a smack in the face to all of them. they talk about the time they almost died in a firefight or when they got shot several times over, but they don't talk about the "deep" stuff.

♡ so it's like, you say some shit like "yeah my [super close person] died when i was really young that was #rough lol" and they all just slowly turn their heads to you like "what the actual fuck did you just say" and you're just like "what's going on why did we stop talking 🧐"

♡ they either move on to a new conversation after several long moments of silence or you just don't notice and continue talking like you didn't just give them mental whiplash.

♡ also so like i'm the type of person that loves clutter and just wants to decorate the hell out of my apartment n shit right? so like if you're also that kind of person and you just amass all this stuff in your room and put in shelves and lamps and posters and pictures covering every wall (even though it's probably against some military code or rules or whatever) and they got a peek they're just like "what the fuck"

♡ every time price sees it he tells you to clean it up but it's half-hearted at best. you tell him he's just jealous of all of your cool stuff, and he secretly is (if you're a mini-fridge kind of person he would definitely want to steal it from you).

♡ if you don't really decorate your room that much or just don't have a lot of stuff, they all get you little things to clutter up your space with. kyle and you come up with a system of buying each other a gift whenever you go shopping together, and he's good at remembering what you like.

♡ i think simon likes carving wood in his spare time, and you'll see him doing this and say that's really cool and good, and he's always just like "ya want it?" and tosses it at you. you don't bother asking if he's sure he wants to give it to you because he already pulled out another block of wood to carve into.

♡ they all also will fight literally anyone for you once you all get closer. you're probably one of, if not the youngest person working in the entire compound and they know how people talk, and if they hear anyone saying anything bad about you for any reason they shut that shit down immediately. you are good, in every aspect, and they all will let everyone know that.

[wordstome]

now that we don't talk

I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost And what it cost Now that we don't talk

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization

2.2k words

tw: none

I swear to God one day I'll write something that doesn't involve that big hooded freak. But today is not that day.

Shoutout to loganlermanstanaccount here on Tumblr, who I won't tag. The bullet point headcanons with written parts interspersed format is from their excellent college roommate Miguel O'Hara post, which became their fic Rigor Mortis. I highly recommend both!

Also, excuse the absolutely butchered military content. I'm sure none of this is how it works in real life, but alas, this is fanfiction, not a research paper. Reader serves a Laswell-like role, but I refrained from labeling her as CIA even though I do call her a station chief. For the purposes of this fic, she's the voice in the operatives' ear during ops. We're playing a bit fast and loose with the terminology here.

You’re a highly skilled intelligence agent and operative handler.

You’ve spent most of your life dedicated to your career: moving through the ranks, proving yourself, refusing to let anything stand in the way of your ambitions.

You’ve done some things you aren’t proud of, but always for the right reason. Or the reason that made the most cold, logical sense. Even when your heart tells you otherwise. Nobody in this line of work has clean hands, after all.

You’ve always done what needs to be done. For everyone’s best interest.

Today marks the first day of your collaboration with a PMC called KorTac. You’re hunting down a homegrown cult turned out-of-control terrorist cell.

You haven’t had much experience working with mercenaries, but in terms of hardened war criminals, KorTac’s people are quite well mannered.

Not that you had expected them to be rude and discourteous, but, well. You are an outsider. They haven’t necessarily embraced you, but their reception was nice enough.

You’ve got a meeting with their commander, but you can’t quite find the room you’re supposed to be meeting in. Not a great first impression to make, but luckily, someone takes pity on you.

He introduces himself. Korean. Callsign Horangi.

“You’ll get used to the layout of the base,” he says as you follow him through winding hallways.

“I hope so,” you reply. “I’ll be here for a while." You study the walls, the signs and numbers on the doors, trying your best to memorize everything.

"Do you know your commander well?" you ask. You're not the world's biggest fan of small talk, but you may as well know what you're walking into.

"König? Yeah, we've been close ever since he joined up." Horangi says, leading you into a long hallway. "He's a good guy. A little intense, but don't let that get to you. He's just getting the job done."

"We'll get along if he's competent." You can respect a man who forgoes pleasantries for making sure the shit gets shoveled.

"You don't have to worry about that." Horangi stops and holds the door open for you. "After you."

You study him for just a moment before entering the room. He's curt and to the point. Not bad-looking, either. Hopefully you'll get more chances to—

Your heart nearly stops.

KorTac's commander is facing away from the doorway, shuffling through some papers by the looks of it. But you would know him from any angle. The set of his shoulders, the way his stance is at ease but never truly relaxed, the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck.

You have to force yourself to step into the room. And when you do, he turns around.

You're vaguely aware of Horangi stepping around you to get into the room, but that's happening somewhere far away from the headspace you occupy right now. By the way König's eyes widen as they meet yours, he's in the same place too.

He hasn't aged so much as he's gotten more tired. He never did sleep enough, but now he looks like he hasn't gotten a sound night's rest in a long time. He's put-together, but there's a haggardness to him that probably wouldn't be noticeable to anybody but you. Someone who knew him when he was younger, and in the prime of his life. Someone who used to know every scar on his body, every crease of his brow, and now hasn't seen him in more than a decade.

The man who broke your heart stands on the other end of the room, staring at you as if he's seen a ghost.

The two of you stand there for a while before Horangi's voice shakes you back to reality. "Brought the station chief, sir."

"I...see." König—you suppose that's what he calls himself nowadays, the arrogant prick���clears his throat. "Thank you, Hong-jin."

"No problem." Horangi takes a seat. "The others will be in soon."

Horangi seems like a perceptive enough guy. Can he tell that the room feels several degrees colder? You pull a chair out, the furthest one from König's position possible, and ignore the hurt that briefly flashes across his face as you sit down.

The meeting goes well. It's just an opportunity for you to formally introduce yourself to the KorTac operators you'll primarily be working with for the next few months.

You can tell they're a close knit group by the easy way they interact with each other: they've worked together for a while.

König, too, is part of them, which must be how they pick up on the chilly dynamic between the two of you. Some of them are just puzzled. For most of them, it raises their hackles.

It doesn't matter to you. You can barely focus on getting through the meeting without feeling like you're going to faint.

It's absurd. You're not some delicate Regency-era lady. You're a hardened military officer. But it makes no difference.

It doesn't matter how long it's been, it seems. He's still the only one who can make you feel like this.

You can't get out of there fast enough after the meeting has concluded. Not only are the others shooting you suspicious looks, but you've spent too long in his presence. Any longer, and you don't know how you're going to keep your composure.

But you can't escape him. Of course not. Why did you ever think otherwise? You hear him call for you, and you walk faster. But it's futile.

This hallway is smaller, narrower, less open. Nobody's around to watch when he slams you against the wall to stop your hasty retreat. Nobody's around to see the way you sway in his hold, overwhelmed by the smell of him all around you. You're bathed in it, the overpowering presence of him.

"We need to talk." he demands.

"We just did. Meeting's over," you shoot back, making a paltry attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. He loosens his hold on you, but you're still trapped between him and the wall. No exit.

"I didn't plan this, in case you're wondering."

"That much was obvious." He's let his hair grow out longer, you notice at the most inopportune time possible. It suits him, you think.

He sighs in frustration. "If we're going to work together, we have to be civil."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't expose how much of a scoundrel you are in front of your precious squad," you bite.

You feel a twinge of smug satisfaction as regret settles into his expression. Too little, too late.

"I don't want it to be like this, either," he murmurs. "Ignoring and avoiding each other."

"You don't get to tell me how to act."

"You're right. But it's been a long time. Can't we try to get along? Not for my sake, but...yours."

"Well that's not condescending at all."

"That's not what I meant. I know my team. If you're walking around resenting me openly like that, they won't trust you. And they need to, if you're working with us."

He's right, and you know it. But there's that deep instinct inside you, older than your bloodline, waking up after a long slumber. It wants him, snapping at the bit to give into him and do whatever he asks of you. The urge will consume you if you don't fight it every step of the way.

You glare up at him, hoping you come off as brimming with resentment instead of desire. "As long as you and your team stay professional, I can too."

He's not satisfied with that answer, but it's all you're going to give him.

"Fine." He steps away from you, and you pour all your willpower into commanding your body to stay still. To not chase after his closeness. You sway on the spot, dizzy with his scent after having gone so long without it.

"This hallway is a dead end, by the way."

You try, you really do. But it's hard to be around him without feeling the urge to touch him, to press yourself against him and inhale him like the most destructive drug possible.

Your only recourse is to stay as physically far away from him as possible.

You do your best to ingratiate yourself with the other operators. You and Calisto are fast friends: she's got a breezy confidence to her that's quite refreshing. It also doesn't hurt that you speak French, as well. There's a bit of kinship felt whenever the two of you are holding a conversation none of the others can understand.

Horangi's a different story, though. The initial courtesy he showed you is a bit more clipped, now that it's clear something is up between you and König.

You can't believe you missed it the first time, the way König's smell is all over him. It really has been too long.

The two of them must be pretty close. You give up trying not to fixate on the idea.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop on them, but you were curious. Even more curious when you hear your name mentioned.

"It's pretty clear you and Eden know each other. None of us are stupid."

You freeze in your tracks. The door is closed, but you can hear Horangi's voice, loud and clear in the room behind it.

"It's not relevant. She's just here to do a job."

"I think it's pretty relevant that she gets up and leaves whenever you enter a room, regardless of what she's doing. She can't get away from you fast enough."

You give a surreptitious look at your surroundings, then lean down slightly, pressing your ear to the door.

"You're not going to give this up, are you?"

"Hell fucking no."

You hear König sigh. "Fine. We knew each other before I joined KorTac. Back when I was in the Jagdkommando."

Do you want to hear this? Your painful history, relayed to a near stranger? Horangi's not a stranger to him, that's for sure.

"And?"

"We were...involved."

"You and a beta? Never took you for the type."

"Well, neither did I. But she was...special. Smart, pretty, deadeye with a knife. Wouldn't give me the time of day, of course. I was obsessed with her."

"Naturally."

"Give me a fucking break, okay?"

"Can't wait to hear how this ended."

"Not...great. I was a total dick."

You can say that again, you think.

"I was young. Real dumbass who thought he was hot shit."

"You still aren't."

"Shut the fuck up." Something twinges inside you at the hearty laughter the two of them share. You missed that laugh.

"Despite everything, it was the most stable relationship I've ever been in. We looked out for each other. She knew me better than some of my family does."

"How did you fuck that up, then?"

"I got too comfortable. Started thinking I could do better. God, what a fucking idiot I was. I loved her like crazy, but I didn't realize how good I had it until it was gone."

"She left you?"

"No. I was the one who ended things. In the worst way possible, too. I told her the relationship wasn't going to go anywhere, that we were never going to be a serious thing."

"Ouch. Why not?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. You remember that night, like a shard of glass buried in your chest. As hard as you tried to forget, you'll never forget the way you felt. Like the world was ending.

You'll never forget the decision you had to make.

"I told her I couldn't see myself with a beta long-term."

"...that's fucked up."

"I know. I know. I was too caught up in that shitty macho alpha mindset. I was fucking ravenous back then, and I thought only an omega could give me what I needed."

"I get it now. If I were her, I would have quit on the spot seeing you in that meeting room."

"Yeah. She's a better person than I can ever imagine being."

Well. It's nice to know he regrets it, you think. Not that it does you much good now. Quiet as a mouse, you make a quick exit before you can get caught.

You make it back to the the room you've been assigned to. They were nice enough to give you your own private quarters, something you deeply appreciate when you need to be alone with your own thoughts. Like right now.

It's a strange feeling, to sort of get closure like this. Not at the end, but at the beginning of something new. You still have to see each other. Does it help that you know how he feels? Maybe, but it doesn't ease your own guilt. In fact, it makes it worse.

You're not mad at him for telling Horangi. You're glad he did, actually. There are some secrets that cause more harm to keep than not.

You open a drawer and pull out the pill bottle, hidden underneath your other possessions, and stare at the label.

WARNING - SUPPRESSANTS. NOT TO BE USED BY ALPHAS. ONLY CONSUME UNDER PHYSICIAN SUPERVISION.

You would know.

BOOM! There you have it. (In case it wasn't clear, the suppressants are for omegas.)

@sprout-fics's omegaverse 141 headcanons series inspired me to write something based off the idea of an omega disguising themselves as a beta in the military. Please check out her series, it's great.

I was really into exploring how omegaverse dynamics can make complicated relationships even messier. I did consider writing this story without the omegaverse, but I think now it's kind of an essential element. (I also just. Want them to have crazy nasty omegaverse sex. Sue me) I can't picture König ever breaking up with someone he deeply loved and was obsessed with, unless he had a reason like that. Still not a great reason, but a little bit understandable. Eden being a disguised omega also adds a bit of spice to the exes-to-lovers arc, too: she could have just come out and told him she's not actually a beta, but she chose not to for the sake of her career. Oof. Ruthless judgement calls were made on both sides.

I put this out because this idea had me in a STRANGLEHOLD, and I just had to get it out before I burst. Hopefully my writing's still up to par 😅 As for Kingdom Come, part iii may take a little while longer because a lot is going to happen in it, so I hope this can tide you guys over until then.

As usual, comments and feedback are always appreciated! I would love to talk about this au more. And again, if you'd like to be tagged, drop a reply. And if you're in the taglist and would like to be removed/only tagged for Kingdom Come, please let me know!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Dragon Age Fans!!!

Read below the poll for details regarding this.

PLEASE REBLOG!

Especially if you choose the first option. It makes no sense to choose it if you don't reblog. Where are you gonna tell me what character you want most if you don't reblog and include that info in the tags?

Now, for details...

I create character interpretations in my work, and I'm a hard-core Dragon Age fan. The game saved my life when my mental health got really dark.

Because of a bad fall, and stuff related to it, I'm unable to draw anymore. Now I make quilts. The interpretations are colors, prints, and symbols. At least, until I learn applique.

Here are examples of interpretations. Several were commissioned pieces, and the clients are very happy about the results.

The first is Odin/The Hanged Man. This was a commissioned piece, and one of few where I applied embroidery.

This one is an altar piece representing Brigid, a goddess.

This is a personal piece, a table runner serving as an altar mat for Halloween and the goddess call Hel or Hela. The light print has metallic gold skulls all over it.

This is a tarot interpretation of the tarot card called The Sun, and was part of a trade. Like the Odin piece, it has semiprecious gems and stones handsewn onto it.

This is a transgender tarot mat, also a commission.

This is an interpretation of my grandpa, made shortly after he passed away. My grandmother wouldn't accept it because it was too accurate and made her cry too much. Instead, I made it a prize for a giveaway.

This is a memorial piece, also a commission. I have semiprecious stones and gems handsewn to it as well.

This is Lady of Guadalupe, an interpretation. I can't remember if it was a commissioned piece or trade.

This last one represents the synesthesia I experience after tonic-clonic seizures. My synesthesia is normally my brain interpreting sound as texture, but it switches to seeing sounds. This is a song, but I can no longer recall the song

This should give you an idea of what I can do. Interpretation is a challenge I love to no end. As of making this, I've made a wallhanging representing Lucanis Dellamorte (the direct translation is Wolf of Death btw). I has a purple crow made with sparkly cotton, on a field of black shiny like polished leather, framed with a purple soft floral border. He's a Crow, a romantic according to devs, and his colors are purple and black. This will be listed in my shop, and soon I'll be working on another with reversed colors.

Emmerich is my next target, and it'll be skulls, blue, green, and possibly brown or off-white. Neve will likely have serpents, Taash will have wealth and/or dragons, Lace will have a bow and flowers, and I need to figure out the rest.

Feel free to include suggestions!l in the tags for the character you're most interested in!!!

Prices will vary by a lot. Size, design, materials, time, all of these will contribute to the final price. The work is worth the money though, that I can guarantee. There's a reason I gave repeat buyers and clients.

[tangent101]

Lost Opportunities in Double Exposure

This started out in response to someone else's comments but honestly, I realized I was going so far afield that it deserves its own area and not muddying up waters around someone else's comments and tags ^^ So... there was a missed opportunity here that would have helped shape the character of Safi and also been more respectful to Max and Chloe for both Bae and Bay settings.

Imagine if Safi were Max's therapist in the game. Her asking questions about the "blue-haired girl" and the like would no longer be casual nosiness, but instead is a therapist trying to break through the shell of a client. She could have asked harder-hitting questions rather than one-and-done stuff that immediately leads to Max dating other people (Amanda) in both Bae and Bay settings. And the death of Safi would hit even harder because now there's concerns that Max killed her own therapist.

Let's go one step further. You could have several added lines from therapist-Safi about how Max's attempts to date other people never work out. Amanda would now exist in the Bay storyline but not the Bae one. (Amanda may even have broken up with Max and insisted that Max needs to speak to a therapist - she's acting in Chloe's stead here and even if she's no longer dating Max she still cared for Max.) You can eliminate any romance option in the game (Max is still with Chloe even if they're in a trial separation in Bae, and Max is seeking counseling over her issues that led to her breaking up with previous girlfriends in Bay), and focus more on non-romantic friendships and on a therapist/patient dynamic for Max and Safi.

The reason Max and Chloe aren't texting each other in the Bae setting may even be that Chloe is going camping with David and they're going to be outside of any cell towers. (From personal experience, when you're 8,900 feet up on a mountain in the Rockies, you don't usually have cell coverage.) And the lack of texts in Bay from any exes is because the breakups were not on the friendliest of terms (due to Max not wanting to go to counseling).

We could even have a scene in the game where Chloe gets a voice line! Chloe is telling Max that she needs to talk to a therapist about what happened a decade ago, because it's still eating away at her and Max's refusal to talk about things is poisoning their relationship. But if the player chose Bay, then it's a blue-haired ghost-Chloe talking to Max in a dream and Max wakes up sweating and in tears wondering what the fuck is going on... and maybe that she does need to talk to someone. To a therapist.

Max could even talk about having "dreams" in which she's in Arcadia Bay and can change time and make things better but how things keep fucking up no matter how much she tries. In the Bay setting she mentions dreams of a week with Chloe that never happened and then how she has to let Chloe die at the end... and in the Bae setting she talks about horrific things like the Dark Room and her fears of sexual assault and the like.

We have here ways by which Chloe is not in the story in a Bae setting that is still respectful of Chloe and Max's relationship and with only a little bit of extra work allows for a separate Bay setting that still leads Max to seeking out a therapist... and also lets Safi become someone who is trying to help Max with her issues. It is not that difficult to do either, which raises the question of why didn't D9 do this?

The answer to that is that Deck Nine (and potentially Square Enix) has a problem with Ashly Burch and Chloe Price and thus assassinated her character. And hey, you know what helps sell games? Controversy. You know what a game company does not want to encounter? Apathy.

We have seen an initial round of anger and passion about what D9 has done to Chloe. But we are now seeing a decline in interest in the game. There's one of three reasons this could be the case. First? The mercenary decision to charge $30 extra to have two weeks extra to play the first two chapters of the game. People have responded but a lot of folks may be avoiding spoilers, and once everyone else can start playing the game we'll see a lot more people talking about it. Second? The fact that we only saw two chapters released, so the only ones talking about bigger spoilers are those who hacked the game and data-mined information from it. Third? The decision to move away from an Episodic format so that players aren't waiting a month or two for each chapter, thus allowing for increased hype as each new part is released (as the first two games were).

[puppyregect-org]

LOGGING IN.... updated 17/11/24 WAF WAF!! O_O

˚₊‧꒰ა HAII !! My name is Reki, but you may call me any name thats in my name hord!! ^_^

I am a Gender non conforming agender boything + queer black artist+writer from the uk!! I use it/that/creature > he/hym , they/moon prns!! Im also 15-17 and a nonhuman shapeshifter!! ^^

"What do you mean you're a shapeshifter?" It means i have multiple kin types that a switch to mostly involuntarily!! My main form is a border aussie (border collie x blue merle aussie)and a red fox!!

Names you may call me !!

➤neo

➤Juno/Juniper

➤rowan

➤and ,well , Reki !!

๋࣭ ⭑⚝I have undiagnosed but medically recognised auDHD, anxiety+ paranoia , memory impairment and prepossessing disorders so my communication can be bad at time !! I'm also just an overall forgetful person.

.𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖ also pls tell me WHY ur blocking me not only does it make me extremely paranoid n anxious but i want to be able to improve if ive do e anything wrong

✮⋆˙I may ask questions about problamtic topics/media but this doesn't always mean i support it, I just get very curious about other ppl's opinons or need help understanding it ^^

This blog is a personal blog meaning it'll include but is not limited to: ➤post about being a dogboy + petregressor ➤ranting posts ➤venting posts (w/ a warning) ➤trans experience + queer experience ➤my life, interests etc

i also do commissions!! recently got a paypal so stay tuned for prices

DNI ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! DNI: 18+ accounts, pedos, loli/shotacons, ppl who fetishise trans/queer ppl + age/petregs/alterhumansm, transmeds, racists, bigots, radqueers, pro harassment blahblah ꩜Thin ice: ppl who involve in petplay+ageplay (simply cus the kinda make me uncomftable) , anti abortion also do not invole me in discourse idgaf at this point

Boundaries ༉‧₊˚. Pet names, friendly fire, touch, complements, pinging me in stuff u think i'd like, etc r oki !! I have little 2 no boundaries other than super personal questions !!

Tags .𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖ #moonbug rants - rant posts #moonbug vents - vent posts (will be tagged if needed) #moonbug art - personal art

#moonbug comms - owed art #moonbug rambles - talk-y posts #moonbug reposts - its in the name!! #moonbug babbles - regression posts ^_^

links ^^ @puppersbagel-org age + pet regression account!! pronoun page ^^ - wip toyhou.se tiktok (i cant post :( )

[blitz0hno]

Why I'm Voting Inno Mikoto even tho He Definitely Did It

or should I say DID i-*🏏smacked*

TL;DR like many I do not believe a word John says, but I also don't think he has the entire truth. Meanwhile Mikoto's amnesia is near undoubtable. With two unreliable narrators and solid evidence of self-defense, I think we need more before declaring him guilty.

I'm here to be Mikoto's lawyer cuz John ily but you suck at it 😭

Now onto why I'm voting Inno:

Mikoto isn't lying when he says he doesn't remember murdering those people, at least not entirely. The memory is in his subconscious, but he can't even remember the faces of his victims because they were both so out of it.

I believe what we see in MeMe is safe to assume to be his first. The first mannequin smashed onscreen is this one:

That looks like a damn FNAF jumpscare lmao this tells me that his baseball hobby probably saved him from getting jumped at that train station, but it came at a heavy price.

That's where John comes in. To handle the feelings that undoubtedly came with taking a life and having to hide the evidence.

Generally in DID alter's memories fall into one of 3 categories (my observations of myself and other systems):

That event happened. These are all the details. I feel nothing about it.

That event happened and I remember everything I felt like it was seconds ago, but I couldn't tell you specifics

That event happened??

The latter two can safely be assigned to John and Bokukoto. The first one is what we're missing.

I saw someone point out how the train could symbolize that he can never go back (credit urself in the tags if u see this it was a good one) to before he killed.

That brings me to our final scene.

Remember how John split to handle the feelings of that stressor? The feeling of unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker is a horrific thing, but once you experience it you change. In order for an alter to handle the reality of something, it must be accepted somehow. John's way of accepting it is not remembering their faces, only his expressions and actions. That's probably why he's so aggressive; constant fight-or-flight mode.

Mikoto (Bokukoto), like with whatever happened to him in early childhood to cause DID, is unable to accept these realities because doing so would shatter his world (it turns out constant fight-or-flight isn't great for your social life).

So about John's statement that he didn't know any of the victims even though he totally did, at least a little;

John is reading the room and there it is: unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker. That's all he needs to feel to know that it's time to protect Mikoto.

That's not the face and mannerisms of a man who bashes skulls in for kicks. This shit was personal.

I can't tell if it's one or two victims in the second clip here, but I strongly believe they had something to do with his work. His subconscious is really harping on how much his boss got on him and how stressed it made him. Something happened that pushed them over the edge. You don't call your mom after you kill for fun (or maybe you do idk). You call your mom when you know you're fucked.

John initiated the second killing but I don't think he was the only one making a conscious decision. That said, I don't have enough details to condemn Mikoto to another unforgiven verdict.

So, where will we find that info? Well remember RGB Mikoto/Trikoto theory (kudos to whoever coined those too)? Well when I broke down the compartmentalization earlier I hinted that there's a strong chance that SOMEONE remembers every detail, but feels nothing and lays dormant.

Good old green Mikoto, the only one we haven't seen speak yet the one who's given us the most detail so far (via MeMe).

Even if not and Bokukoto remembers more than he's letting on/gets in contact with John, the crime itself isn't unforgivable beyond a shadow of a doubt yet even with multiple victims. His reasons are still cloudy.

Also I like him

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

Leona finds dinner for the night and a very unexpected dessert joins in.

Hello! :D

I have a trigger warning for this chapter: Detailed description of sexual situations, smut, and male anatomy.

Have fun! :D

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeform

I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Eighteen

.....................................

The silvery light of the moon draws the unfriendly darkness of the corridor into its pale embrace, and although there is nothing else to help me on my way except this translucent curtain, my eyes guide me across the floor as keenly as a predator on its prey, and the wood cries out with a low creak under my footsteps. And I do feel as if I had gone on a hunting trip, because the hunger that is slowly tearing my insides apart with sharp claws fills my nerves with impatience. And this restless feeling hangs only one goal in my mind, to get something as soon as possible that will quench the pain that clings to me like a poison, that pushes me minute by minute closer to the furious suffering that I wanted to avoid, but I happily earned for myself.

I wasn't wrong about that I pushed myself towards the limit again by acting all tough and rough in the last few weeks, but I strongly miscalculated how long it would take for my body to delight me with the first signs of its revenge. For although I was working with optimistic estimates, I thought I could manage to hold out with dignity at least until morning, and then I could go find Price in the hope of a nutritious meal. But it seems that stress didn’t only wear down my friends, but me as well, because even though I had dedicated many years to experiencing the limits of my own body with almost painful thoroughness, in the absence of experiences similar to my current adventurous lifestyle, I couldn't have possibly expected that the pain would arrive much sooner than I thought. Therefore, when the first dull spasm roused me from my slumber, I knew no matter the late hours, I needed to eat now before my condition worsened. And my pride couldn't bear that, especially since I was in the crosshairs of a completely new dangerous element who, God forbid, would want to take advantage of my delirium blinded by agony.  Because he would, I'm sure.

So, in the middle of the night, I rushed to Price's room, but there was no answer to either my gentle or angry knocking, and when, emboldened by this, I entered the captain's private lair, I was greeted only by silence and eerily untouched emptiness. And after the first desperate shock, I decided that the smartest thing would be to visit the person who could be the closest to able to tell me where the hell the bearded Hunter might have disappeared in the dead of the night, because just a few more hours and the fever will arrive to crown my misery, and then I'm afraid that anyone who wanders in my way will become a tasty snack in a heartbeat. And now, as the door finally appears in front of me, for which I dragged myself through the depths of the house, then for a minute I doubt whether it's really necessary for me to go up to him, but the cramp twisting my guts quickly reminds me that I don't have all that many options left to be picky. And this makes my steps quicken, and I rush to the battered threshold of my favorite Hunter with such determined fervor that it's both pitiful and remarkable at the same time.

Blurry beams of dim light shine from under the door, and a small smile tugs at my lips involuntarily as I realize that it seems Price and I aren't the only ones who couldn't rest in this haunted house. Because although the building is in surprisingly good condition, the frozen coldness that sits in every plank and brick fills the walls with the smell of corpses, and even those who have been wading in the blood of monsters since childhood cannot rest in this gutted coffin. Of course, it's also a fact that if I hadn't pushed myself with my sudden conscientiousness to the mouth of the very steep abyss of hunger, then I would have leaned into the rough arms of the soap-smelling bedsheets with the greatest peace of mind. But now I'm here, and the ache gripping my stomach in an iron fist soon turns me back to the direction of my goal, and as I gently knock on the rickety wooden board with my hand, the muffled sound echoes like a melodious song in the concert of the noises of the night.

And it doesn't surprise me in the slightest when the door opens a few seconds later, because I'm sure he heard the sneaking tap of my boots when I stepped out of the solitude of my homey quarters. Because Riley looks down at me exactly as if he had already expected me to pay my respects in front of his humble abode, and even if this isn't, it certainly gets me thinking that there is neither annoyance nor disapproval in his gaze as his dark eyes slowly glide over me. As if he knew exactly why I had embarked on such a daring nocturnal lurking, and if I just take into consideration what an awfully good observer he is, then I have to admit that he probably already guessed that sooner or later I would end up here when I recharged the small team so kindly. And I have the sneaking suspicion in my head that since he has such turbulent feelings connected to the evening of my last feeding, he is perfectly aware of when was the last time I could fill my stomach with my favorite snack, and with a little math he was able to calculate how close I could be to that state. And as the sweet memory of the incomparable taste of his blood creeps up on my taste buds, my mouth starts to water almost instinctively, and I have to forcefully push away the intrusive thoughts that urge me to put something much fresher on the menu today instead of Price's deep-frozen food.

"Where is Price?" The question escapes my mouth, because my suddenly sharpened senses don't allow me to even consider small talk and subtlety, because I fear that with every wasted word the desire to sink my canines, which ache with cruel pain, into one of the inviting slivers of the tanned skin that peeks out from under his t-shirt grows stronger. But even though the pull of instinct awakens in me, I'm still able to keep my consciousness together with my self-respect and straighten myself out with just enough determination before my longing becomes too obvious.

"He’s reporting to Laswell." Comes the rather objective answer, and with that, he gives me exactly the kind of information I was most afraid of. Once the captain starts a deep conversation with the woman, it's difficult and mostly risky to break him out of it, mainly because then it would definitely become clear how deeply I was immersed in the complications I had created for myself. "It'll take a while." He adds, and from the way he presses these few words, I understand the unspoken message, which confirms my guess that I shouldn't expect Price to get away from his exciting evening consultation anytime soon. And when I think about it, it's in the interest of all of us to immerse himself in this discourse, to see if Laswell has dug up something interesting from one of the endless pits full of super-secret documents she is so suspiciously familiar with.

"Great." I pull my mouth into a cynical grimace, and a sigh full of the world's pain escapes from my mouth, from which anyone could deduce how much this news fills me with joy. And I suspect that even without it, the masked man would have very easily been able to read the cause of my sorrow from the small tremors rolling through my body, because as he leans against the doorframe with comfortable carelessness and folds his arms in front of his broad chest, I understand from this gesture alone that I have revealed myself to him in a ridiculously simple way.

"You're at your limit again." He points out the obvious fact without an ounce of hesitation, and although his words sound like a statement of fact, there is something inquisitive in his tone, as if he is just starting to guess how creatively I will solve this situation. Because we both know what it will lead to if I let this initial torment drag on. The steamy moments that took place in the dimness of the infirmary are projected too vividly on the canvas of my mind, and as my eyes inevitably stray for a moment to his forearm, and I catch a glimpse of the tiny white mementos of my teeth on him in the sea of scars, I could swear I could taste the salty aroma of his skin on the tip of my tongue again. Shit…

"Maybe." I put all my carefree lightness into my voice, directing my attention to his face again, and I'm unable to hide the curve of the naughty smile creeping on my lips when I see the disapproval appear in his eyes. How sweet... "You're worried, perhaps?" I ask teasingly, raising one of my arched eyebrows, taking a bold step towards him, despite the fact that the dull pain in every fiber of my body slowly begins to pulse steadily, as if every heartbeat wanted to remind me how starved my energy is. But for some reason, the closer I get to this dangerous man's inviting proximity, the less I can think clearly, as if some invisible force is guiding me, like a helpless marionette being pulled on a string. And unfortunately, the problem is that I don't even try to resist.

But instead of engaging in a verbal sparring match with me, which already flows between us as effortlessly as breathing, I just watch in bewilderment as he steps aside and reveals the entrance to his room to me, almost inviting me in. And this small act seems so impossible that I only gape at him, blinking with skeptical confusion, because the realist side of my brain sees a trap behind this as well. Because what other logical reason could there be for him to voluntarily allow me into his den?

"Come in." He motions with his head towards the small room covered in the yellow light of the broken lamp, and it sounds more like he is giving a command, but it still sits in my ears like an irresponsible invite to a reckless dance. I'm sure he knows what he is conveying to me, because I realized a long time ago that there is not a twitch that he does by accident. And in light of this, he is very brave to let a hungry predator into his lair, even if I'm not a real threat to him. Although he could easily break my spine like a toothpick, we both know that it's not so easy to resist my mean little bite, which led us to interesting situations the last time as well. Although it may not have been against his will, but a dutiful man like him doesn't need a distraction like that on a mission.

"Unless you have a bag of blood, it's not the best idea." I warn him, aptly reminding him that we both know that a little heart-to-heart talk won't help with this problem, and I strongly doubt that he secretly indulges in the same sinful eating habits that I do. But he doesn't seem the least bit moved by my remark, as he continues to stare down at me with unflinching persistence, not wasting a word trying to argue his offer. And from the way his eyes are fixed on me wordlessly, I quickly understand that he shared his idea with me not as an option, but rather as an introduction to a ready fact. Because he already decided when he saw me on his doorstep that it would be best for me to stick with him in his solitude. Terribly interesting. "Okay." I finally give in, and even though there is a breath of staged resistance in my emphasis, I'm much more curious about what his purpose is with letting a wild animal ready to attack into his cave. Because although he is the apex predator of the two of us, I'm the one who is slowly becoming more and more desperate, and in this position, necessity drives a person to do many reckless and foolish things.

Although with every movement the stabbing pain that is growing stronger rips through my body, as if a thousand tiny needles were being twisted in me, I slip past him with all the lightness I can muster, and as the mouth-watering, spicy scent emanating from him hits my nose, then the violent hand of hunger twists my insides with almost unbearable agony. Because even this half-second of closeness is enough to make me dizzy from the inviting pulsation of his blood under the tight confines of his skin, and the desire to taste him again rushes into my mind with such force that it makes every inch of my body ache with cruel force. And that urges me to move deeper into his quarters, sneaking past him in such a hurry that it's almost pathetic, because I'm afraid that if I stay closer to him longer than necessary, I won't be able to stop the scratching voice in my head that screams to sink my teeth into him, because that's exactly why he led me here.

And the seduction of the treacherous thoughts echoing in my skull is louder than it should be, so I decide it's better to divert my attention to something else, because aimlessly peeking around seems like a much safer pastime than giving in to this miserable little voice. As I look around the barren interior of a half-empty room similar to mine, I discover the table resting at the other end and the pile of papers spread out in the mess that has unfolded on it, and my legs almost automatically carry me to the piece of furniture. And the closer I get, the clearer the reason for Riley's late-night fun becomes, because as soon as I arrive at the thick stack of files, I recognize in them every single piece of the documents that Price has so willingly provided for us with. It seems that he was at least as disturbed by the mystery of finding the Rat as his boss, because the complexity of the quickly scrawled notes rivals the work of the bearded Hunter, and reveals that the masked man has been crouching above these pages in his intimate alone time ever since the captain ordered our enforced rest. While it doesn't surprise me that Riley can't take a break and spends every waking minute working, it still sparks concern even in my ugly little soul when I see such obvious signs that he is driving himself to the brink of exhaustion. I know that the hyperstrong body of the Hunters can withstand a lot of stress, but I doubt that it will tolerate being drained and pushed for performance without rest and, above all, without sleep. Undoubtedly, thanks to the regenerating, he may now feel like someone who has had a liter of caffeinated liquid poured down his throat, which actually comes from coffee beans, but this momentum is quite finite.

The soft sound of the closing door pulls me back to reality, and as the promise of a way out disappears, I become aware that I have fallen into a not-so-terrible, but very sure trap of his company. And even though I feel the weight of the man's searching gaze on my back, I continue to feign carefree curiosity and concentrate on studying his work so far, because suddenly my sense of smell sharpens and detects the scent lingering between the battered walls, which casts the red mist of longing on my brain with almost elemental force. Because with each breath, his essence fills my nose, into which the bitter sting of tobacco smoke mingles, but despite this, alongside the empty pain throbbing in my stomach, it is able to stir up the demanding tension that I know only encourages reckless ideas.

"What's the plan now?" I ask the obvious question that hangs invisibly in the silence between the two of us, and I run my fingers through a small stack of papers with nonchalant interest, scanning through the notes scribbled in neatly curved letters. And even a fleeting glance is enough to realize what sharp observations he made about the unknown terrain in such a short time based on the laughable bit of information at our disposal, and I already have a fitting little compliment on my tongue, with which I would like to address his enthusiasm. But that's not why we are here now, and I'm much more interested in what could have gone on in that mysterious mind of his when he thought it would be worthwhile to share his undisturbed peace with me.

"I have what you need." Comes the completely unexpected answer, and when my brain, which is not necessarily working at peak speed, understands what he has shared with me, I turn to him with cautious surprise, because I have to check whether I'm hallucinating from the lack of blood. But when I see him standing as still as a statue with unwavering confidence in front of the closed door, I don't think I detect either amusement or uncertainty in him. And that makes me question for a minute whether he really knows what sinful temptations he offers me so carelessly.

"Would you look at that." The first small reaction of my surprise bursts out of me, and I lean against the edge of the table with my arms entwined comfortably in front of me, because this conversation is slowly straying into a very unusual side track. Although it would be a shame to deny that it beneficially diverts my attention from my ever-increasing suffering. "Don't tell me that you're secretly into blood and hiding a few bags." I remark with halfhearted disbelief, sneaking the blunt edge of boldness into my words, because even though there was already an example of me snacking from him, it was the unexpected end product of a series of very complicated circumstances. But it's different now. And even though I would have to drag myself to Price, slipping and falling in my own fever and sweat, I could probably last until dawn if I really had to, and he probably knows that well. Yet he almost ordered me here, knowing for sure that he wouldn't help any of us by doing so. What's on your mind, Riley?

And instead of cheering me up with some clever answer, he gives up his peaceful loitering and starts towards me with slow steps, and I eagerly follow his every move to see if he shows me what he is up to. The thumping of his heavy boots reverberates dully from the walls of the room, and I watch almost mesmerized as his strong figure stalks towards me with the elegance of a big cat, leaving only a few tantalizing inches between us as he settles in front of me, which makes my heart skip a beat with desperate speed. Because, although not with words, but with this simple act, he lets me know quite clearly why I'm here. And this raises some very risky questions in my mischievous little brain.

"Are you offering yourself up to me now, Riley?" I tilt my head to the side curiously, letting a cheeky smile to curve on my lips, because this is such an unexpected turn of events which even in my wildest dreams I would have only dared to imagine as an improbable joke. Now, however, he looks down at me with an almost surreal seriousness, and as my eyes meet his, I can read nothing but determination in his dark eyes, and in a fraction of a second, a pleasant tingle flares up under my skin in addition to the stabbing pain. And as every sinful wave of the seductive heat emanating from him reaches my sharpened senses, my fingers only bite harder into my upper arms, because I'm afraid that otherwise I would be enthusiastic enough to explore every inch of his luscious body.

"This is the most practical solution." He states with an almost objective indifference, but it doesn't escape my attention as amused wrinkles gather around his eyes, as if the line of a playful half-smile would be hidden under the dark fabric. And because of this, he gives me the impression of someone who is deliberately trying to provoke me, just to see if I do something completely thoughtless. And it occurs to me that perhaps this is precisely his goal, since he clearly let my delusional brain know that he wouldn't mind at all if he was on the receiving end of my cunning little practices. But such recklessness would be irresponsible even from a man as terrifying as him, because he doesn't know the dirty ways I can play once I put enough energy into it. And from the way the caress of his gaze warms my skin, I become quite motivated to fulfill my earlier promise and see what limits I have to push in order to see him let loose.

"I have a bit of a deja vu." I muse with feigned nostalgia in my voice, because my mind doesn't have to work long to recall what it was like the last time he so selflessly offered himself to me as a delicious morsel. Because the taste has been living in my memories ever since, as if it had bought a season ticket between my neurons. And just from the idea that I can sink my teeth into him again, to feel the rapid beating of his pulse under my tongue and hear the deep murmur of his breathing in my ears, I almost get lightheaded. "But now I've run out of wishes. Will you still let me drink from you?" I inquire, referring back to the little fact that led to our whole overheated little night out, which he seems quite eager to return to. And this gives me the stray thought that maybe he really doesn't want to sacrifice himself on the altar of camaraderie, but that my small stunt left such a deep mark on him that he would gladly ask for another round. 

"I'm makin' an exception now." He elaborates, sharing the noble reason with me why he so candidly offers himself to be my late dinner, and I'm unable to get rid of the mean little expression climbing onto my face, because it seems that he gladly walks into my open claws with the greatest joy. And I'm neither so good-natured nor so crazy as to say no to a gourmet meal when he puts his throat so eagerly between my teeth.

"How generous of you..." I note, and let the hum of impatient craving crawl into my voice, because at this point it no longer makes sense, and from the pull of the hunger rampaging inside me, I wouldn't be able to hide the cruel force with which he draws me to himself. And this is what makes my eyes go on a lazy tour around all the desirable corners of his tall figure towering over me, because hundreds of ideas storm my mind, wild from his indulgence, debating where I should taste him. "Even if I'm the one choosing where I will bite you?" I challenge daringly, and now I finally let the itch in my fingertips invite me to a curious adventure, because it would be a sin not to take advantage of the opportunity when it presents itself so kindly and foolishly.

My hands free themselves from their forced shackles almost too excitedly, and I can feel the slow rhythmic beating of his heart as one of my palms rests on his chest. With a deliberate touch, I map the bulging curve of the muscles dancing under my touch, and as I slither up to his shoulder with the measured slowness of a snake, I hook my fingers around the neckline of his shirt and pull the soft textile aside, revealing the seductive little valley where the inviting vein and the delicious red liquid pulsate under the hard flesh. And I almost desperately swallow the pitiful moan that rises in my throat, because even though the sun-kissed skin is woven with bright tendrils of scars here too, and I see a rough-edged mark that was once licked by flames climbing from his back with a dull purple color, yet I'm sure I've never seen a more enticing sight.

But as he suddenly moves and breaks me out from my mesmerized concentration, his hands find support next to me and close around me from both sides, trapping me into the prison of his hulking body. And I almost confusedly turn my attention back to his face, tearing my gaze away from the enchanting area I had just discovered, but I don't regret for a minute that I can immerse myself in those dark eyes again. Because now I can clearly see the dangerous flickers that light up in them, which promise such fleeting pleasures that make my stomach tremble with excitement, and I hardly even register the tension, tamed into a numb ache, caused by the hungry demand of my energy. The idea of burning the hot mark of my lips into every inch of him with my mouth awakens much more strongly in my body, so that he remembers in every waking minute what desperate desire he was able to bring to life in me.

"Go on." He leans down to me, and I can almost feel how the heat of the power radiating from him soaks into my cells, causing a shiver of anticipation to travel down my spine, slowly drawing a heady fog over my brain with his proximity. "Those little teeth don't do much damage." He claims, and his tone is filled with something quite playful, as if he just wants to tempt me to refute this impudent comment of his.

And as he glances at my mouth, which opens in shock, and my tongue almost reflexively runs along the grooves of my teeth, finding one of my aching canines, then I see how the brown irises slowly narrow into a thin ring as they follow this unconscious movement. And the realization that this man wants me to bite him hits me like a bolt of lightning. He demands that I tear open his skin and plunge deep into his flesh, because he wants to feel what he experienced in the infirmary. Which moved hoarseness in his throat and restrained tension in his limbs, and which caused a hardness in his lap, born of desire. He wants to bathe in the guilty feeling I caused him intoxicated by his blood, and suddenly I crave nothing more than to give him what he so nicely asks of me. Because every nerve fiber of mine is begging me to lure him into that shallow trap, in the smoldering foams of which I'm drowning more and more surely.

"Remember this later, too." I make this one last comment, and in this short sentence lies the warning, with which I let him know that he has entered into a game the outcome of which I will vouch for, but all its responsibility will rest on his shoulders if he brags so boldly that my teeth cannot seriously harm him. Since with this, he quite deliberately incites the need to prove myself, and urges me to show him how wrong he is. Because the storming thoughts in my head tell me that I can bring him to his knees, I just have to try meanly enough. And maybe that's exactly what he needs. Someone to finally teach him a lesson and take the control out of his hands, so that he could taste what it's like to be at the mercy of someone else with the fate of the burning desire awakening in his body. So be it…

And just enough motivation is born in my consciousness to finally push my body towards action, so I drag him down to me with my hand resting on his shoulder, and he fulfills my silent request with almost ready obedience. As I reach up to the base of his neck to trace the curve of the tight muscle with my lips, the heavy scent emanating from him fills my nose, and I close my eyes trembling, as the overwhelming torment of hunger ripples through me, dragging behind the blazing sparks that ignite every frail inch of my body like a wildfire. And now I'm unable to hold back the impatient pull that besieges my insides, which makes my mouth lach to his skin like a hungry leech, and as my teeth penetrate the supple boundaries of the tissues, then the intoxicating taste of his blood floods my tongue again and with that, every tiny thread that ties me to sobriety is torn. And it elicits nothing but a relieved sigh from me when the emptiness that tortures my stomach is finally replaced by a pleasant warmth. But even though my brain is covered by the veil of daze, my ears still keenly catch the hoarse moan, the force of which resonates throughout his chest, and rushes through my ear canals like a rousing melody, feeding the insatiable flame that licks at my belly, almost burning me alive.

The first greedy sip of red liquid rolls down my throat, and along with it, the electrifying sparkles settle in my limbs, and my mind, which is slowly sinking into a drunken stupor, does not try to stop the reckless thoughts that are stirring in it. My free hand departs with imperceptible insidiousness on his left arm resting on the table, dancing with a feather-light touch along his forearm webbed with thick fibers, and it fills me with a ridiculous amount of satisfaction when I feel them tighten under my fingertips. And although this small sign should serve as a signal to my blinded consciousness, I'm buried too heavily under the intoxicating sensation of his blood for me to be able to appreciate what a risky little fun I have started into. Although I'm aware of the horrors he is capable of with the power hidden within him, I still know that he holds the reins of his self-control with an iron fist, and I want to experience what it's like when he has to hold on to this control with gritted teeth. Because the damned little voice that lives deep in my skull tells me that if this terrible man lets his strict mask slip and the self-restraint that resides in him crack, then I will have an experience that I will never be lucky enough to witness again.

Excited by this, I trace the round line of his biceps, and as his broad shoulders twitch, when my mischievous little fingers reach there on their brave journey, I teasingly caress the battered skin with my tongue, and perhaps the subtle tremors that run through him are involuntary, but they accelerate the rhythmic drumming of his pulse under my mouth. And in my clouded brain, the thought arises quite boldly, whether he would tremble more wildly if I were to repeat the same small movement somewhere completely different. Because of this, the sharp teeth of want squeeze my insides with such desperate vehemence, that for a minute my consciousness, swimming in a blood-tipsy daze, drifts to the edge of fainting, and my blunt nails dig into him from the force I grip his shoulders with. But he doesn't protest, he just lets out a sigh heavy with desire, and as I feel his hot breath break through the fabric of his mask, I already know that I will do anything to see him falling apart.

I'm unable to stop, and my fingers continue to wander from his shoulder to the mounds of firm muscles swelling on his chest, and as my palm reaches his stomach, I feel the hard ridges ripple under the soft fabric, when I suck the wounds inflicted by my teeth perhaps a little harder than necessary. And I'm not quite sure that it's just the heavenly taste of his blood that's responsible for the warmth that boils in the pit of my stomach, because the raspy groan that erupts from his throat sounds more like the growl of a caged beast than the voice of a human being.

He invades every single one of my senses, and this heady buzz slowly enters my head, as if I wanted to quench the insatiable, sweet misery raging inside me with alcohol. Although the power of the hunger that tormented me has long since eased and the razor-sharp claws of pain have disappeared from my muscles, now something completely different fills every part of my being with restless energy. And when this feeling starts to feel a bit too much, and my mind would tip over into the pleasant unconsciousness of euphoria, I tear my mouth away from my victim's neck and with consoling kisses, I clean up the crimson droplets emerging from the small cuts of my teeth. And I know that I'm not imagining the way he jolts with each touch, and the sculpted muscles contract fiercely under the caress of my lips, like he would have to force himself to stay still. And the haunting voice in my head tells me that this is only the beginning, and just a small taste of the deep bottomless pit that I need to push him into.

Now that my mind is not dominated by fear of my actions, but by curiosity, I draw away from him with a lazy calmness to examine my work. And for a moment my breath is taken away by what I meet with when my bright eyes run over his figure leaning over me. There is something quite desperate in the way he stares down at me from under the tent of his blonde eyelashes, because I can see the hunger in his eyes that has also taken root in my body. A pleasant shiver sweeps over me when he follows my tongue, almost mesmerized, which cleans the rest of my dinner from the corner of my mouth. And my throat goes dry as I see his curved lips part under the dark material of his mask, and suddenly I want nothing more than to remove the damn fabric and feel what his mouth tastes like when he loses control. Because although I can't see his face, the smoldering waves of aching roll down his body with such ferocity that I can almost feel the roaring power emanating from him, as if I were embraced by living flames. But I don't care one bit if the fire that's coming to life in him sclads me, because every cell in me is begging me to burn myself with it.

However, I'm not satisfied with just recognizing the fierce thirst hidden in his eyes, and as I travel to his chest, rising wildly from his deep breaths, I'm filled with excited anticipation, because I want to see with what force my small teeth have effected him. Because I know that, contrary to his big words, I injected a poison into his body that planted a tension ready to jump in his every pore. And as my gaze slides down and rests on his crotch, a small grin spreads on my lips, because I see his hardness straining against the rough material of his pants, the clear sign of how much my sneaky little temptation was able to arouse sinful desires in him. And this finally breaks through all the barriers that kept my greed in check, which was already alive in my subconscious even in the infirmary, but now I'm not afraid to face it. Because I want to destroy this man, so that he can never forget my touch, and every time he closes his eyes, he replays these minutes behind his eyelids.

"You said last time that I started something I shouldn't have." I mutter softly, my eyes finding his again, and as I identify those mouth-watering, waiting glints to dance in the pools of his dilated pupils, I no longer have any desire to chase away the evil expression climbing to my face. Because I see in them the promise that could set the whole world on fire if I danced back from my vile little game. But he is lucky, because I'd die if I had to let him go. "Now I'll finish it." I declare firmly, and my hand resting on his stomach finds the belt attached to his pants to hook into the cold material. But I won't give him time to comment on my suggestion, because I'm not sharing an offer with him, but a dead-certain fact, and I'm going to make sure he can't think clearly enough to object.

My sly little hands immediately get to work and quickly unfasten the buckle of his belt, and as it surrenders with a soft clatter, I hear how sharply he inhales, as if he just wants to keep his composure in place. I know that he is still clinging to his sanity, and his stubbornness is sowing the seeds of a thousand diabolical ideas in my head, and guided by the bubbling excitement in my stomach, I decide that it is about time to obey one of them. With almost agonizing slowness, I loosen the small button that still holds his trousers on his hip, so that when I find the flies, I enjoy every second of the suffering that appears in his eyes when I finally start to pull down that wretched zipper. Because it's obvious with what persistence he has to hold himself back when my brave hand starts on its reckless path and traces the line of his erection hidden under his underwear. The line of his prominent jaw must be clenched with an almost painful force, as my fingers trail the throbbing curve of the thick vein running on his length, and the aching tremble moves into every fiber of me, as I find the wet spot that broke through the soft cotton in the wake of his excitement. And it's desperate how much pride fills me when it dawns on me that I'm responsible for how every single muscle of his is straining to the point of a snapping, and perhaps only a few thin threads separate him from throwing away his restraint.

But I want more than that, and this is the insatiability that leads my hand to sink under the fine fabric quite unexpectedly, so that I can finally release him from the suffocating captivity in which the poor thing has had to languish until now. And as the soft skin smooths under my palm, as my fingers wrap around his cock, I bite my lips to hold back the desperate moan that would want to break out of me, because I can clearly feel him twitching in my grip as I finally touch him. Now I have to look down, and I watch, almost spellbound, as his hard member emerges from under the dark textile. Thanks to the hypnotized trance taking over my mind, I can only follow silently as my fingers slowly trace along his length, and when my thumb smooths a white, pearly little drop from its head, then his whole body shakes from this small movement, and I fix my eyes on his face with the speed of a starving predator. And heat rises between my thighs, as I see the violent, barely controlled lust that radiates from his gaze, an excruciating desire coming to life in every corner of my body under its weight, which makes me want to cling to him asking him to bury himself into me. But now I have a different objective.

This is the determination that makes me able to swallow the pleading words rising in my throat, and instead let the crippling thoughts in my head take control of me. Without warning, my hand locks around his cock, and it's cruel even for me, the way my hand starts slide along his length, bringing out such muffled sounds from the man with each movement, which only further helps the flames raging in my consciousness become blazing hot. And I stare in amazement as his broad shoulders shake, when my fingers gather the wetness collected on his leaking tip, and the chuckle is brave even to my ears, that escapes my lips as his mouth opens in a rasped moan, as my thumb caresses that tiny little slit, from which the pre-cum gush out in thick drops. And although the determination in my head helps me stay on my goal, all my senses are focused on him, and with each passing minute, the veil of passion that descends on my brain grows thicker and thicker. An infectious heat emanates from every inch of his strong body, and the tingle under my skin boils hungrily, which pleads for his large palms to soothe the impatient energy that pulsates desperately in my veins. And the longer my hand strokes his heavy shaft, the stronger the salty scent emanating from him becomes, and it fills my nose and creeps further into my head, pushing all my nerves towards a drunken bliss.

Still, it's a much bigger reward as I see the battle of feelings passing through the dark eyes, and even my slowed mind recognizes that he is deciding how long he will let me continue with my naughty little game. And I don't have to wait long for the answer, because I catch on my periphery how the strong muscles dance as his arm rises, but before he can gather himself and leave his post on the table, I suddenly grasp his cock, and his whole body shakes from my meanness. My fingers gently tighten around the silky flesh, and even this small warning is enough to make him abandon his plan in an instant, whatever he was going to do, and instead, fix his fierce eyes on me, grunting like a wild animal that was pulled back by its chain just as it could have sunk its teeth into its victim. But he needs to know that the leash is in my hands right now.

"No, no..." I shake my head with playful scorn in my voice, and he leers down at me with such an angry temper that I know I'm well on the way to him giving up the self-control he's honed over the years. "Be a good boy, Riley. Keep your hand on the table, or I'll stop..." I share my silly little threat, and it doesn't escape my attention how quickly his jaw tenses as I scold him. And from the way he puts his body weight back on his hands and leans closer to me, I know that although he certainly doesn't like me instructing him in such a treacherous way, he is very happy to join this fight. Because I saw the excited lust in his eyes when I called him a good boy.

"You're playin' with fire..." He warns, and the passion puts a hoarseness in his voice, with which he addresses his frivolous little words to me. He doesn't need to remind me of that, because I know he could take what he wants in a heartbeat. But instead, he remains motionless, and his hips jerk almost demandingly, as my nimble little hand begins to pump him again, moving lazily up and down his thick length. And for a moment I almost take pity on him when I see how his strong shoulders stiffen as he tries to fulfill my request, like a well-trained beast that wants to please its owner despite its instincts. That's why my free hand goes on a torturous journey, and he snaps his eyes on my fingers running along the graceful curve of my neck so willingly that it's quite sweet.

"Is that how you wanted to touch me?" I ask quietly, and he follows with unflinching attention as I caress one of the supple mounds of my breast, and even under the material of my shirt I can feel one of my nipples visibly hardening under the onslaught of my feather-light touch. And although I'm also torturing myself with this, because the pressure of the hot ache in my belly is becoming more and more intense, it gives me much more satisfaction to see his throat move, as he swallows the tormented sigh that nevertheless escapes from his mouth as a muffled growl. Because I know that I will slowly break his tough mask by simultaneously giving him pleasure and fueling his hunger with the little show that I present to him. When my shameless trip ends on my stomach, and my fingers playfully dance along the edge of my pants, submerging under the rough fabric for a moment, then I hear how forcefully the air gets trapped in his chest from restrained anticipation. But I'm more evil than that, and I enjoy this disgraceful game much more than to give him what he so strongly craves.

I finish my performance just as quickly as I started it, and finding the nape of his neck, I tug him down to me, leaning closer to him with every alluring inch of my body, smoothing my lips against his face through the dark textile. Because I want him to hear clearly what the price is for me to stop torturing him, and he can finally get the sweet release, for which every part of him screams so much for.

"You don't deserve that just yet." I state simply, and the softness as I caress the line of his ear with my mouth is quite intentional, and I can feel how he freezes, as it reaches his brain, what kind of diabolical comment I made to him. "First I want to hear you moan my name..."  I whisper my bold order to him, and an excited shiver runs through my body when I hear how the hard surface of the table cries out, as it cracks under the grip of his big hands. And the knowledge that he could easily throw me on the table and help both of us with our ravenous hunger, but instead obeys me despite the wild desire pulsing from him, awakens such a satisfied warmth in my stomach that makes me decide that it's time to reach the finale.

Letting go of his thick neck, I lean away from him because I want to see him fall apart by my hands, and I grab his shoulders with excited terror as my eyes connect with his. Like the raging sea in a night storm, in which the destructive waves collide and bury the ships drifting under them, dragging their helpless victims into the deadly foam. There swirls the heat in his eyes that could consume me alive, and under the intensity of which a painful tremble moves into each and every corner of my body. And the movement is quite instinctive, as my thighs tightly press together to try to calm the feverish, wet pulsing between my legs. I can only thank the fact that I don't start begging him to bury in me his throbbing hardness between my fingers, that I can feel his hips jerking forward, thrusting himself deeper into my grasp. I know he is close to the end, because I can feel his breathing speeding up, and this is enough of a signal for me to pick up the pace of the torturous work of my hands, and it's quite mesmerizing how his chest rises while panting, as the pleasure slowly washes over him.

"Fuck… Woods!" He moans, and I can almost hear him squeezing my name out between his clenched teeth, but I'm sure I have never heard a more beautiful sound in my life. It vibrates along his chest like a big cat purring, and it puts such a guilty edge in those few syllables, that I have to bite into my lips to hold back the tortured whimper that climbs up my trachea.

I can name exactly which is the point when the string of lust breaks inside him and his body falls into the burning arms of pleasure, because his whole body tenses up at the same time, like a drawn bow. He closes his eyes, and there is something insanely beautiful in the way his head is thrown back and the characteristic curve of his throat bulges out, and I would like to trace the moving tip of his Adam's apple with my tongue, but the sight is too paralyzing for that. And I only perceive it as a dull crackling as the wood of the table finally gives in, because it blurs my mind too quickly, as his hot release spills on the back of my hand, and I help him through the violent tremors of his orgasm.

And as the heat that has traveled through his body seems to subside, and the burning tension contracting his muscles seems to ease, then I watch with fascination as the droplet of sweat appears from under the material of his mask, to crawl down and mix with the crimson pearls appearing through the teeth marks I left on him. And this reminds me that it would be time to taste the dessert that I served myself with such tireless work. I let his cock slip out of my grasp, and he, gasping for air, follows me from under his half-closed eyelids as I raise my hand to my mouth. It doesn't escape my attention that his mesmerized gaze settles on my protruding tongue, which cleans the pearly white streams of his cum from my skin with a comfortable slowness. And I see the unbridled temper flaring up again, as I consume my snack to the last drop with a mischievous little smile, and release the soft moan that wants to break out of me from the salty taste spreading in my mouth. But it seems that he is still under the influence of my game, because he cannot react in time as I reach up and place a small kiss on his lips pressed together under the dark fabric, enjoying the warm moisture that the sighs trapped in the textile planted there.

"Thanks for the dinner." I thank him with a biting cheekiness in my voice, and something quite dangerous flashes in his eyes, which makes me think that maybe it's time to finally take my leave. Because I'm afraid that if I stay even a minute longer, I will let him seize control and take revenge for having amused myself with his sweet suffering in such a nasty way. That's why, taking advantage of his pleasure-induced slowness, I nimbly duck under his strong arm and retreat from his charming proximity before he has a chance to catch up with me. And the irritation with which he turns around is quite amusing, because he looks like a dog on a chain, in front of whom the cat danced just enough to make him want to bite its thin little throat.

"Woods... " He grunts, and I sense the edge of his unspoken threat, and although I hear my name escape his mouth for the second time during the night, and despite the fact that now a series of dark promises are mixed in his emphasis, he instills a morbid excitement in my limbs as he adjusts his tattered clothes and straightens up, glancing down at me. "This isn't over yet." He claims firmly, and there is not an iota of uncertainty or hesitation in his statement. But if it scares me, it dulls into a distant worry in my skull, for his blood and the wondrous sight he presented me with fill my mind with too much careless courage.

"Punish me if you can." I shrug my shoulders lightly, walking to the door with a spring in my steps, only to turn back to him one last time before leaving the room overheated by the heady smell of his body. "I'll look forward to it." I add this little remark to the end, putting a defiant grin on my face. As I see the recognition appear in his gaze, which makes his eyes narrow dangerously, then I know that he remembers that not so long ago he challenged my cunning tactics against himself with these exact same words. And he can only blame himself for believing that I wouldn't make use of his irresponsibility.

Although I step out into the moonlit hallway with the knowledge that I can cash in on the fact that Riley will pounce on me, perhaps when I least expect it, the threat is unable to make the satisfaction that nestles in my head disappear. And it may be true that every single cell of mine is crying out demanding that I turn around and let the man ease the burning need stretching my insides, but even that can't break my good mood. Because I was able to force him to surrender, and I showed him what vile tricks I have up my sleeve, which can make even a determined, powerful Hunter like him hand over the reins to someone else. And that sweetens the anticipation that I will be subjected to. Come on, Riley, show me you can be a mean bastard like me. I can't wait…

[spectrechosts]

Necrosis

Oh boy, a new series with all new characters, this is surely not just more of the same- hey what's that series tag?

I'm kidding it is actually about and from the point of view of new characters.

But they're there.

Full Series

Lagakh sighed and rubbed her eyes, returning to the barracks she had set up a command post in. She'd barely slept since they arrived, just in time to protect the city from the undead siege they currently found themselves under.

She took a hefty swig of her coffee, the burning bitterness sharpening her senses.

And then she entered her command post to see Ryse lounging on a bench she had moved into the window's light, and sighed and rubbed her eyes again.

"Ryse, why aren't you defending the gates?" She said, careful not to sound accusatory.

Ryse was of the beastfolk, the cat variety, which led to certain assumptions about her behavior.

Considering they domesticated them, a baffling number of people seemed to think cats were secretly plotting their downfall. Dogs are man's best friend, but cats? If you die your pet cat will eat your body! Isn't that nefarious, and not something that a dog would also do when faced with starvation and the inability to unlatch your door.

So when through some wizardly experiment a bunch of animals were given varying degrees of elevated intelligence and humanoid form but still acted like the animals they had just recently been, people were… wary of the catfolk. The dogs were obviously trustworthy; just look at them running around, tails wagging, happy to do anything you ask. The catfolk weren't doing that, and so clearly were up to something.

Ryse fell more on the large breasted maid with cat ears side of the spectrum than the talking panther that will eat your children one, sporting fur across most of her body and some strange mannerisms but still having humanoid hands to hold a bow with, and this placed her firmly into the ever popular role of the brooding ranger in most people's eyes. Capable of heroism, but only reluctantly, and only for a price.

"Oh, you know me. Didn't feel like it." Ryse hummed.

Lagakh was not most people. Ryse had surely found a thousand little spots she could hole up in and not be found until they had broken the siege, and she had instead decided to place herself directly in the path of the one person who would tell her to get back to work. She wanted to help, she just also wanted to lounge around and have it look like she didn't care.

"Why didn't you feel like it, Ryse?" She asked, moving to pore over her maps. The city was walled, and there was only one gatehouse. Half their party (minus one ranger, now) was guarding it, it was the most vital part of their defense, and if Ryse didn't want to be there she had a reason.

"Too crowded for my tastes. You know I like to work alone." Ryse said, rolling onto her stomach and letting her tail swish about.

"I also know you're one of the most capable archers I've ever met, and that gate needs all the defending we can manage."

"Oh, it has it." She continued. "The wizard and barbarian are having great fun, knee deep in gore. Anything she doesn't blast he cleaves in twain, you'd be hard-pressed to find a duo more suited to turning a crowd into charred viscera."

"Don't sell yourself short, Ryse. I've seen you sink an arrow into the eye of a gryphon in flight, pry your blade between the plates of a suit of armor none of us could even dent to slay the warlord within, you-"

"Are very impressive, I know." The cat smiled, blinking at her slowly. "Against single, high-value targets. Not endless tides of dead."

There it was.

"You find it ill-suited to your talents, then?"

"I have only so many arrows, and no desire to clean corpse gunk from my fur." She shrugged.

"Would you like to help people barricade their homes?"

"Who, me? I'd steal anything not nailed down."

The orc gulped down more coffee. Ryse positively radiated smugness. Like pulling teeth with her, sometimes.

"Do you have a suggestion for what you might find worth your time?"

"Hmmmmm~"

Ryse stalked over to her, leaning over the various maps and plans with a steadying hand on Lagakh's back.

"I'm at least as capable as the paladin at healing. Have her help with the barricades and I'll replace her helping the cleric tend to wounded. She's big enough to make easy work of it, and paladins are trustworthy." She hummed.

"Unlike you?" Lagakh asked, crooking an eyebrow.

"See, you understand."

The cat slinked away, and Lagakh was entranced enough watching her leave to clink her mug off her tusk when she went to finish her coffee.

Ryse glanced back and rolled her eyes.

"Get some sleep, boss. You seem distracted."

[azullumi]

Hi! Happy new year! C: Can I request something similar to your Al Haitham pining headcanon post, but with Cyno? And if it isn't too specific, could the reader also work in the Akademiya, maybe as a judge for trials? So they're a lil stressed, flooded with work, but is kind and cares deeply for the people of Sumeru? Sorryifthat'stoospecific- I hope you have a good day! Thank you! ❤️

summary — he yearns for you in a way he can't explain and he loves you in the way he only knows. you were the poison in his heart that he will always choose to consume every time and even at the hands of death— he will know you for your name will be the last to slip past his lips.

pairing — cyno/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, secret pining; headcanons

word count — 800+

a/n — i really enjoyed writing this and got carried away while doing so as i ended up writing past my limit 🧍‍♀️ anyways, you don't have to apologize for it being too specific! i really prefer it that way since its really helpful and nice :)) so here it is! i hope you like it, happy new year and i also hope you'll have a good dayy!!

Unnecessary feelings that will only be a hindrance to his work, is what he first thought. He could never find the time to even think of his self-interest less in the matters of love that just seem not needed. His dedication in upholding the Akademiya's rules and laws makes it so he hasn't even thought of wanting something or someone more than the way he's interested in the in and out of justice itself.

A person who operates on his ideas of "justice" and the desire to preserve the law and a person who presides over trials and maintains order, giving judgment to people who are brought to the court. Maybe it was the fact that you two shared something similar, something common. Maybe not in the beliefs but in the line of work so he excuses his actions— often watching you from afar, looking after you, and thinking of you— as that. He reasons his approach to you and finding ways to get close to you as merely a small interest because of his work.

It's not because he refuses to accept that he has fallen for you but because he just doesn't know how to explain nor tell what he was truly feeling. You make him experience things that he can't explain, feelings that he doesn't know how to put into words properly. You're the type of person who he can sit in silence with, the type of person who he can enjoy himself with without having to do anything, the type of person who he will always seek out when it feels like his mind is way too loud on some days.

Oh, my dear, whatever you say and whatever you think, he will desire and be the one you wish for him to be. Not in a way that he'll willingly lose himself, not in a way he'll remove and replace parts of him and become someone else who he's not but in a way so he could perfectly fit himself in the puzzles of your mind— he will indulge himself in your interests so that the two of you could have something to talk about the next time he meets you and he will learn of the things that you like so he knows what to give.

It was yet another exhausting day for you. A routine, a normal occurrence in your everyday life, after presiding over a few trials and taking care of documents, you walk back to your home completely tired. It feels like a cycle but it’s not like you hate it, you find your work quite fulfilling especially when you’re doing it for the good of the people of Sumeru. Your care for them goes a deep way down to your heart after all. "(Name)! Good timing, I have the item that you were looking for yesterday. It costs quite a lot but I’ll give it to you for a cheap price!” A vendor called out to you and grabbed your attention. “Oh, you’re really the best but are you sure about giving it to me at such a cheap price? I can pay it just fine.” “It’s okay really, it’s my way of thanking you for always being kind and caring.” A ticklish feeling was felt in your heart, emitting a soft and short laugh out of your throat, just agreeing to what the vendor had said. Then eventually, upon hearing and seeing you, children came and gathered around you with an excited gleam in their eyes and wide grins on their faces, greeting and bombarding you with questions, their voices enthusiastic and cheerful. “(Name), (Name)! How was work? Did you judge those bad guys again?” “I’m sure (Name) did! (Name) is amazing, after all!” “Do you have a hammer during court? If not, can you use the ones blacksmiths use?” You chuckle, feeling your stress and worries wash away upon seeing the bright look on the children’s face. You crouched down to their line of sight and entertained their questions, answering them with the same enthusiastic tone and a smile on your face and you thought how you wouldn’t mind going home a little bit later if it’s for the kids. Amidst all of this, due to the commotion that you were in, you never noticed the pair of eyes that looked at you from afar— Cyno watches, he watches as you interact with your surroundings, as you talk with the merchants, and as you play with the children that you pass by even when you're already so exhausted from the work that you have done the whole day. He watches, his gaze, unknowingly, soft and warm every time he looks at you, there is so much to see, so much to admire but your kind heart was the best part of it all.

He wonders how you are able to be so nice and forgiving, so sweet and loveable, so genuine and honest and he wonders how it feels to be kissed by the same kindness you give to others, to be held and drowned by your gentleness, to feel the tenderness of your gaze, not by your eyes but your heart.

Every time he's together with you, even just simply basking in one another's presence, he often finds himself being fairly relaxed and no, it's not because he's out of his akademiya duties, but because there is something about you that just makes him feel that way. Your voice, your gaze, your existence strips himself bare and empty and he's left with just his own self, not the infamous General Mahamatra but Cyno, the man who cracks jokes and goes through lengthy explanations so the other party could understand what he said, the man who is an avid fan of a card game, and the man who is fond of taking night strolls at the desert to help him relax after a stressful day. With you, he's nothing but just a man who is named Cyno.

Oh, darling, you will never know the words he whispers to himself at the thought of you. Because all of those are soft confessions that he could never tell you, ones he will always swallow and vomit when he's alone. To think that a brave and courageous man like him grows weak under the small graze of your gaze.

Being with you never felt like a dream at this point but a prayer, a prayer from his soul who wishes, who desires, who yearns to get a touch of yours.

— navigation | masterlist

[streets-in-paradise]

The Veiled One - Ajax x (Fem) Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by @blackedropedreaper

"Hi!i've read some of your TROY-stories and i love them.

If you're up for it, could you make one for Eudorus, Ajax, Odysseus or Hector?

For Ajax: (Reader is female) Y/n is sister to Helen. And while Helen is beautiful, she is scarred across the face, she is still beautiful, but is insecure because of her scars. Ajax, being scarred himself tries to make her see herself like he sees her "

Hi! As i told you in my answer to the ask, I'm releasing each fic one at the time. I started by this one and I hope you will enjoy it because i feel it's very sweet

Warnings: Hints for a no war AU, Agamemnon doing tasteless comments (as always). Despite events and characters from the myths were added, this fic works in an AU for the 2004 film.

Summary: The best of Greece has arrived to your city seeking to court your sister, the most beautifull woman in the world, but you haven't had any luck finding candidates among the men who accompany her suitors. In a world were a wife's beauty directly represents her husband's status, you feel disqualified for marriage due to your scarred face.

After one of the visitors cruelly reminds you of that through open humilliation your insecurities are so strong that you can't notice someone else had his eyes on you the whole time. Ajax had initially came to meet Helen and when he admits to be considering stop pursuing her, you believe he has been tricked by Odysseus. Hoping to prevent he would be robbed of his chance, you try to convince him of stay in the competition, but he has something else to tell you.

Tags: @blackedropedreaper

The most remarkable men in the country were coming all at once to your city, guided by illusion and desire. Everyone wanted to be the lucky one winning the hand of Helen, your sister, and take her home as their wife. Rumours claiming she was the most beautifull woman in the world were feeding an autentical craze with people coming from every corner. The numbers on her suitors list were going out of hand, a constant growth that challenged the hosting capacity of the palace. Some of the newcomers and their men would have to end up settling camps near the acropolis because the place was overpopulated.

It was an episode with no precedents, they were all ready to step on each other's heads for one smile of your sister. She was leaving her mark in history as the woman Greece had fallen in love with and despite you were happy for her, you were still very worried about the whole thing. Only one would end up victorious and the rest would have to deal with rejectment, what could possibly be a hard challenge for many nobles and heroes used to get what they wanted.

Romance was so far away from your experience that it was understandable you would be thinking of that first, while she was analyzing each prospect from a personal perspective hoping to find one she would fancy. You both have allways been a team, you knew each other better than anyone and that bond could never be ruined even despite of how drastically different you were.

Night and day, mind and heart, uglyness and beauty. In all their wisdown the gods have decided that her flawless face needed a contrasting opposite to keep the balance of the world and it had to be yours. The price to pay for beauty like hers to walk arround mortals that would admire it was your scarred face dooming you to be invisible.

Despite what gossips would indicate, you weren't necesarily jealous of her. The way people acted about your difference was the horrible part. Over the years you got tired of hearing them murmur about how you could have been as beautifull as her, if it wasn't for your scars. The kindest voices would say it out of pitty, while the cruel ones would express genuine dissapointment looking at you.

Used as you were to that during first impressions, you opted for wearing a veil in public whenever the palace would have foreigner visitors. In the context of the massive arrival of suitors for Helen that would sometimes lead to confussions where you would be mistaken for the bride.

The most notorious one of those misunderstandings happened during the comíng of the Atreides. Only King Menelaus was going to make a plead, but his brother Agamemnon was there to make explicit mannifest of the family's political power hoping to twist things in his favor.

So it was thought, untill they found out of your existence.

" Forgive us, Helen. Naturally, we expected the veiled one to be the bride. " The mycenaean king apologized for both about having confused you for her. " I have to admit this has surprised me. I'm travelling here for my brother's wife, but never consider I could find anything for myself. The hundred mouths of Fame are all occupied in you, but fail to mention you have a sister. "

Helen and you were one in your disdain for those men, already famous for being despicable. You frankly hated Agamemnon's entitlement, the way he would speak of Menelaus as if he had already won and how he would speak of you both as a package thing they could get and later split taking one each.

You may have been running short in possible marriage prospects, but you surely didn't want to end up with that self centered old king.

" It would be a waste of time. " You answered for Helen. " There is nothing remarkable in me."

A few more men were awaiting their turns to introduce themselves, others were there simply observing the pompous arrival. You managed to recognize your cousin's husband, King Odysseus of Ithaca, on that crowd. Next to him there were a cocky blond and a rough looking tall man, men that you didn't know at all. However, Agamemnon did seem to know them and their presence was somehow encouraging him to insist.

" Don't be shy, little one. Let me see your face. If I like what i find, I will do my plead. "

What could the mycenaean king possibly want with you? Did he think that offering you marriage would secure the triumph of Menelaus with your sister? Was he expecting to find a woman as beautifull as her that he could keep for himself without interfering with his brother's desires?

You looked at Helen and nodded negatively.

" She doesn't feel comfortable with that. " Your sister defended you. " That's how she presents herself in public and she doesn't feel inclined to change it for anyone."

The clarification confused and annoyed the king.

" I guess exceptions could be made when the most powerfull man in Greece requests it. " He insisted, careless for the negatory. " I can make her the queen of my growing empire, but for that I need to be sure she is worthy. "

" I'm not, so you don't have to. " You simply replicated. " I could never be your wife, a man of your position would feel disgraced being by my side. "

Agamemnon deviated his attention towards the blond man subtly chuckling, convinced that he was laughing of him. Both assumed you were merely trying to politely reject the advances of a man you wouldn't want to marry taking the blame so it wouldn't feel like that.

" That's very clever, but not enough to fool me … and you are making me loose my patience. "

Cornered as you were, there was nothing else you could have done but acceed to his demand. You knew exactly what was going to happen and tried so badly to avoid it in order to protect your honor, but that insensitive man left you no choice but to reveal yourself.

His blatant horror was impossible to dissimulate. The disgust that the contradiction of his expectations caused would make him act as the humilliated one despite he was shaming you.

" What kind of sick joke is this? The most beautifull woman in the world has a deformed sister! "

" Has your father ever neglected the sacrifices for Aphrodite and that's why you ended up like that while your sister is so gorgeous? " Menelaus followed him, presenting his ask with genuine curiosity. " … Just wondering, it's a strange situation. Too ironical, I could understand if you were cursed. Helen is practically perfect and everything else is good on you, but those marks look like if your beauty would have been ruined on purpose. "

" Typical of the sons of Atreus, blaming family curses on everyone else but themselves. You are the ones who should be worried about that. " Was Helen's flawless comeback. " What makes you think my father would want to see me married to the youngest son of the beast that murdered his own nephews to feed their flesh to their father? "

Menelaus didn't see that coming, he couldn't have possibly expected she would talk back like that.

" Where are your brothers, Helen? Lost forever, nobody knows what happened to the twins. " Agamemnon responded for him. " Your father knows your marriage is the last hope of the bloodline and he can't afford reject an alliance with us. After all, he will never get a good deal for her. "

Silent tears began to fall down your cheeks. Helen was holding your hand, gesturally begging you to stay strong, but the cruel man reminded you of your loss and also made you feel horrible.

" She got rid of you. If you ask me, that's an excellent deal. " The blond man interrupted, then smiled at you from afar. " The scars work to keep old pigs away, men who can't handle a flaw because they want to get a perfect wife in order to compensate they are past their prime in the battlefield. "

With your face still wet from the crying he made you chuckle and he seemed satisfied with that.

However, the rage of the king and his humilliation threatened with turning the situation into a scandall.

" Well. Nobody asked you, Achilles! What are you doing here, in the first place? The bride in dispute is far away from your reach, kings are not going to compete for her against soldiers. "

The attempt to shame him was completely pointless.

" Every single one of the suitors claim to be capable of winning Helen on their own, yet all of them have external support. " Achilles mocked the situation while starting to explain himself. " Diomedes counts with the trickery of Odysseus, Menelaus has your political power … I'm lending the fear of my name and the worship it inspires to support Ajax. He is tired of getting the short end of the stick because he comes from a poor island. I understand that, i'm just a soldier … Ríght? "

He looked at the tall man beside him, seeking his support while he finished to taunt Agamemnon, but he seemed quite lost in something.

You didn't noticed untill then that he was looking at you.

" Our brave actions in combat always make the difference, but he is the onlyone getting acknowledged for that. " Ajax concluded when he realized he had lost the focus. " Achilles is making his part in keeping things fair helping me on this. "

" I honestly thought it would be hilarious if he gets the girl and humilliates your brother. He wants vindication and I want to see you loose. " Achilles added, still in a mockfull spirit trying to irritate Agamemnon. " if this do ends in war, like some are already fearing, we will fight as a team … Good luck trying to survive us, all the gold in Mycenae is not going to save you. "

" Let's hope it will not get that far. " Odysseus corrected, severely concerned. " What kind of man gives his wife a bloodbath as wedding present?"

" I would. " Achilles calmly stated. " Disgraced will be the men getting in my way if I fall in love one day, they would all descend to Hades. "

" You forget that may scare the bride and ruin the marriage. " Ajax interrupted him. " Your looks aren't threatening enough to scare women, that's why you don't consider it. If I would kill all my rivals in front of my future wife, she may never overcome the fear. "

For the very first time since the whole thing started, one of the suitors of Helen had personally impressed you. Ajax would be the one better positioned to do threats with fighting for her, but he was choosing not to because he didn't want to scare her away. It made you wonder how many times had he accidentally frightened a woman he wanted in order to learn that lesson. Exactly as you developed the veil strategy to cover your scars seeking to pass as attractive, he attempted to tone down the raw rougheness so the refined ladies wouldn't run away from him.

If he would have arrived for you, it was for sure that you would have promised him you wouldn't. Knowing he was there for Helen made you feel genuinely jealous because you liked him.

It got worse when he approached to formally salute both of you and the closer look allowed you to notice a few sharp lines across one side of his face. Battle scars, the patterns were like a sygn of the gods speaking to you.

That wouldn't matter, even if Helen didn't want him he could never possibly have any interest in you. Underrated compared to others, but Ajax of Salamis was still a famous hero. Often considered the strongest man in Greece, legends claimed he was capable of bringing down a tree with one swing of his axe and the blow of his battle hammer was an inmediate death sentence. However, as days would pass you found out tales failed to mention he was the sweetest tempered of greek heroes. Odysseus underestimated his intelligence, Achilles was critical of his humbleness, but Ajax was still friendly to everyone despite being somewhat aware that he wasn't always as valued as he should be.

At any given chance you would have, you were there to make justice. He could never be yours, but you wanted him to succeed and prove the world his worth even if that meant he would marry your sister. In a short span you became very efficient on his defense, ocassionally team working with Achilles whenever his ego allowed it. It eventually made all the others suspect your loyalties sided with one particular contestant and that was a problem given your closeness with the future bride possibly acting as influence.

Tired as she was of hearing people say that she was playing with the hearts of her suitors, Helen enjoyed of watching you play tricks on them that served her to silently judge the contestants. The unfortunate accident involving the mycenaean king was a hard hit on your crumbling self confidence, but it also gave you the excellent idea of evaluating all the men through his reactions interacting with you. If Helen wanted to see their true colors, there was nothing easier than observing their treatment of a woman they weren't attracted to.

For that night you were preparing a test that would be the ultimate proof of their insulting shallowness. They would have to endure full conversations forced to stare at your clean face. No veils, hair tied up in a beautifull hairstyle that made it impossible for you to use your falling locks as curtains hidding your imperfections. The intention was to determinate which ones were capable of showing genuine respect and separate them from the ones that would try fake attempts of condescending praise or would not tolerate the discomfort.

Even tho you were on board the idea from its conception, she insisted in reassuring you first.

" In a fair world, my dear, you would be already married. " She commented caressing your cheek. " You are beautifull and it's not your fault that the Kings of Greece have such narrowed definition for that. "

You gave her a half smile.

" Your fate is to become a Queen and mine is to remain in our father's house taking care of him untill old age will leave me completely alone … And it's not your fault, what i hate the most of this is that I will miss you. One of those men will take you away and I will see you only when chances would allow it. To meet your children, or maybe in someone else's wedding. "

" Don't say that! " She interrupted you. " I will always be there for you and you won't end your days alone. "

Helen hugged you, sensing that you needed it like if you lives depended of it.

" I'm scared! So scared that you could be given to a horrible man that would separate us. " You admitted ríght away. " … , but i'm also afraid that you could marry a wonderfull man and forget of me. Sister, i don't want to loose you! I will never have the joy of a self made family, you are all i have. "

Helen tried to lift your spirits the best she could. Her words came from her heart.

" You will never loose me, no matter how much our lives may change. Don't deny yourself of the posibility for change. I will always love you, but i don't believe my sibling love is all life has for you. The day will come when a man will want you for wife and you will know it will be for real. The men who currently reject your scars will never be ready to see my wrinkles. Whatever advantage they now think I have over you, time will fade away. I will not be the most beautifull woman in the country forever, but the man choosing you will love you forever. "

Although meaningfull, her advice didn't achieve the cheering effect expected. She didn't know that the only man you wanted was already in the lines of her suitors.

" Let's scare some shallow men away, shall we? "

You presented yourselves together to have the last meal of the day with the guests, arriving to the banquet hall between complicit laughs. Helen took the ríght seat next to your father and you took the left, observing the men i'm front of you and evaluating their reactions. A brief distraction guided you in the ríght direction when Achilles made you a subtle sign to laugh with him knowing it would annoy Agamemnon. It was quite fun, but you stopped caring when your eyes found Ajax alongside him.

He could tell you were staring, but his response was to simply smile at you and the embarrasement made you look down. You didn't notice then how his glance refused to abandon you untill the King stood up to make an annoncement and Achilles nudged him so he would pay attention.

" Noble suitors of my daughter! You have come from every corner of Greece to honor the beauty of Helen with your marriage proposals. No father can be more pleased, but never more concerned!!! " Was the beggining of the king's speech, making you suspect that his confession of his fears would preceed a big announcement for the contestants. " Only one of you can take her to his house, only one shall lay with her in the thalamus. For the rest awaits the bitter end of rejection, outcome no man is prepared to face. Of this wedding depends the unity of the country or its doom, whispers have come to my ears of threats of war from men willing to spill blood if the consecuencies turn out adverse for them."

Achilles admitted his guilt with a self satisfied smile. Even if he was only supporting a suitor, he guessed the callout was for him.

" A blissfull event such as a wedding should not be accompanied of funerals. The blood spilled would be a curse for the marriage itself!!! " Tindareus kept explaining, the words of Odysseus doing echo in his voice." This exceptional circunstancies force us to adopt exceptional solutions, for what I have decided that new requirements will be applied to grant my blessing of this union."

Menelaus and Agamemnon shared subtle looks of dissaprobal, rejecting that any conditions should be impossed to them.

" First, I shall warn you I will not be the one taking the choice, Helen will … And you will swear by unbreakable oath to respect her choice."

Disconcert reigned among the men and your sister had a bright smile. Mixed reactions oscilating between surprise and disgust coming from them were a delight to both of you.

As you were already guesing, Menelaus was the first one raising in protest.

" Nothing would be more insulting than expecting us to let ourselves get choosen by a woman. "

" You won't be and you know it. " Diomedes recalled, starting an argument. " You are doomed if fears of war or the use of political power are out of the calculation. I agree in considering it too atypical, but i can't deny it's fair. "

" Peraphs because you feel so close to winning with the old man out of the way. " Prince Antylochus of Pylos snarked. " But you forget i'm the youngest and … Frankly? Aside from being a formidable warrior, clearly the most handsome "

Each and every suitor was trying to prove why they themselves would be the choosen one, with cassual interventions of Achilles feeding the fire for the sake of making them tear each other apart exactly as they weren't supposed to. You were having a lot of fun with the spectacle, at least untill you noticed one of them was too silent on the matter.

Ajax seemed lost in his own thoughts, so you tried to encourage him to speak with a sweet smile. He raised from his seat to pronunce himself, but what he had to say wasn't what you expected.

" It's no longer my desire to pursue Helen. "

It was the unthinkable, nobody else seemed capable of giving up no matter how hard they were complaining on the conditions.

" Great choice, my friend! It's what i would have done. " Odysseus praised him. " A humble step back for the wellbeing of Greece."

Your eyes were throwing daggers at him. Through Odysseus' trickery Ajax was being scammed, persuaded to abandon the competition because he was too strong to loose in the first place.

Achilles, ubicated in between of both heroes, seemed to share your opinion.

" It's not the best time to be humble, don't damage your honor to spare a few lives. "

You couldn't let that happen to him, even if you would suffer having him as your new brother in law. Helen didn't seem particularly inclined towards him, but you have never told her of your crush fearing it may have ruined his chances with her. He deserved better than being robbed of his oportunity by either your pointless feelings or some scheme of the ithacan king.

As soon as the room got clear after the banquet you rushed to chatch him on his way out and walk with him in order to do your try of persuading him to act for his true interests.

" My lord, you have performed the most impossible of feats tonight. How did you manage to reject her? No one has accomplished that before and i'm confused about the veracity of your claims."

Ajax chuckled to himself, as if he knew something you clearly didn't.

" I was completely serious, i lost interest on courting her. "

That seemed to confuse you even more.

" With the greatest of respects, i have to ask: You don't want to, or feel unable to keep doing so? Because that would be ridículous, you have the same chances as everyone else."

He got your point, but didn't look to affected by the exhortation.

" Your sister didn't look twice at me since my arrival, something that is hard to achieve for most because of my size."

The subtle self mock made you giggle a bit, outlet to release the nervousy caused for being so close to him.

" A woman would always feel protected alongside a man of such impactfull presence. " You twisted his point to sincerely flatter him. " … And I bet that the strongest arms in Greece must give the best hugs. "

He smiled briefly for you and you loved him even more.

" There is no need for you to lift my spirits, sweet princess. I don't regret it and my heart holds no sorrow, since I haven't lost as greatly as you suppose. Helen is not the only beautifull lady in the country, not even in this city … or in this home."

You stared at him in shock.

" There are only two ladies in the palace, unless you temporally count Penelope's visit despite she is already married. "

Your wondering naivety was quite cute to him.

" I was talking of you. " He clarified. " You are the beautifull lady. No matter how famous the beauty of your sister is, when you smile for me with such tenderness you become the most beautifull creature in the room. You have facilitated my choice tonight, by allowing me to look once more at your sweet face in detail. "

" I was trying to make everyone unconfortable to amuse Helen. " You innocently confessed, still in disbelief. " It's no mystery why most men would disagree with you. "

" Only cowards flee from a few scars. " He corrected you. " I carry mines with pride. "

" It's different: you are a warrior. A princess is not supposed to look like this. " You explained, venting your insecurities to show him why you couldn't see things the same way. " People get so excited hearing the divine among women has a sister, only to discover this. "

You pointed at the flawed side of your face, but he took your hand and your glance followed the act.

" I was supposed to be beautifull like her … Who could want me now?"

" I do. " He insisted, his voice going softer for you. " Everything i said, i mean it. Even if you can't see it, is my truth. And if you allow me, i will show it to you. "

He seiled his promise pulling you closer for a strong hug. Once you were secured against him, his hands reached your face and caressed you with unbelievable tenderness. No one would have expected it coming from him and you never imagined you would be worthy of that.

To your consenting awe he responded deepening the contact through a sweet kiss and for the first time in your life, you got to feel beautifull.

The next morning you intended to keep the secret, but the consequencies of your happiness were visible even in the way you choose to present yourself. Your hair was loose, but not in an obstructive way. With the excuse of witnessing the oath you were wearing a fine dress fitting for a celebration and, most importantly, a cosmetic artwork over your scars added beauty to the flaw instead of hidding it.

A new contestant had arrived just in time to replace Ajax and he was the first pointing it out.

" You look so beautifull! It's like if Zeus himself would have painted his lightning bolt across your face. "

You humbly smiled to the compliment, so unused to that sort of praise that you weren't sure of how to respond.

" It was painted over my skin, following the trace of my very real scars."

The handsome young man wasn't dissapointed by the explanation.

" Well, darling, that changes things very little. I'm a worshipper of Aphrodite. Guided by my goddess I acknowledge and cheer beauty in every form presented before my eyes. "

" If you came looking for beauty, i guess you are in the ríght place. " Was all you could answer. " My sister will be ready for your eyes soon … "

" I came from far away, looking for love. " The man corrected you. " And if Helen chooses to reject me, maybe i will not have to leave on empty hands. "

He reinforced the meaning of his words taking your hand to kiss your knuckles.

" I don't see a husband arround … Are you betrothed already? "

You felt the protective grip of Ajax's hand touching your shoulder.

" Soon she will be. " He explained before you could say anything. " To me. "

The stranger observed the huge frame of the hero with an amount of horror that was quite amusing to you despite it was perfectly understandable. The nice lad was small and lanky in comparison, Ajax could easily break him without using any weapons.

" … And I clearly respect that! " He commented, making fun of himself to escape the awkward situation. " I have no intentions of competing against you, my monumental friend … And I have to admit i'm frankly relieved to know I won't have to. "

Another man approached ríght behind him. He was of stronger frame but similar enough to make you suspect they were related.

" Already getting yourself in trouble? Keep eyes on your prize, Paris. "

It all made sense, and you couldn't be happier for your sister.

" You are the princes of Troy! The only ones who can actually compete in fair conditions against the threats of the Atreides!"

The stronger one showed approval of your guessings.

" I came here to support my brother, but I do have heard that Agamemnon has done the same. "

You looked sweetly at Ajax, as if you asked for his permission to say something very unflattering.

" And I wish your brother all the luck in the world, even if it's just to ruin his plans. I want those horrible men far away from us."

It didn't take you long to find the courage to take your sip of ironical vengeance. You kept conversating with the princes for a while, but as soon as you spotted Achilles you rushed to him with the news keeping your own mischievous intentions in mind.

Hatred towards Agamemnon was a bonding point for your accidental friendship. Malice and arrogance were not only unquestioned, but encouraged by him.

" You better pack your things, I believe the wedding will take place in Troy. " You commented him, pretending to act cassual knowing the king would be hearing. " It's not my wish to crush everyone's hopes so soon, but Prince Paris is a new strong candidate. "

" Let me congratulate you first, I have heard of your new suitor. " He responded, then shamelessly approached Agamemnon. " How does it feel to know she will get married and your brother won't? "

He was fulminating him with his stare.

" The last word was not yet said. "

It wasn't enough, not while remembering the way he humilliated you.

" Well, my lord, if my sister's choice will be measured like yours, then your brother is the clear looser. "

" Let's guess who she would pick: the lascivous old king or the pretty boy prince speaking like a poet." Achilles followed you, with killer irony. " I came to see you loose and so far, it hasn't dissapointed. "

" I sincerely hope my deformed face will be for you a reminder of your most epic downfall. " You finished, with a poisonous tone. " Hector seems very nice, i bet he will be a great brother in law. "

The provocation was too much for him.

" Be carefull of who you insult, girl. One more offense and I will burn your city to the grownd. "

You were completely fearless while delivering an important reminder.

" You can't: the oath that your brother is expected to make protects it. Even if it wasn't the case, i would like to see you fight Ajax without Achilles on your side"

You had a point and he hated it, the King of Kings was choking on his own poison. By the time your self declared suitor realized of what was going on, the vengeance was already executed.

The way in which you were standing up for yourself showed that you were feeling confident and that was all that really mattered to him.

[amiscreations]

My Wembley Stadium Tour Experience (Def Leppard and Mötley Crüe)

TLDR: the Wembley Stadium tour just felt so empty, like half capacity if not less. There were people CONSTANTLY walking in front of me, like at least once per song, more than that before I moved seats. I was seated far away, so it was already harder to get into than when you're down the front, but this made it almost impossible and killed the experience for me.

So I mentioned this in the previous posts tags, but I was honestly a little disappointed by the London show. I know I'm not the only one, as I've seen numerous people online say similar things. Also I do not wanna come off as ungrateful, as I know lots of people would have killed to be in my place, however I am also allowed to judge experiences as they are. I AM grateful to have been there for such an iconic show, especially for Leppard, and I am also privileged to have front row to compare it to, but that doesn't mean I can't be disappointed by it.

The lead up to the concert before I went into the venue was honestly great! I met up with my friend from Italy, who I'm also going to Glasgow with, and we just hung out around the Wembley Park until she had to go in (she had a VIP package, I just had a regular seated ticket in the stands, so I went in after her). When I got in, MammothWVH played first and they were amazing! They honestly stole the show and I wanna hear more from them.

The first thing that threw me off was the fact that people would not stop getting up and walking around. I understand you may need the toilet or want food etc, (and that is the advantage of a seated ticket) but this was constant. I had an aisle seat originally, and I stayed in that for MammothWVH and Mötley Crüe. I am not kidding when I say people were CONSTANTLY walking up and down this aisle throughout both bands. Again I know the aisle is there for that reason, but it really took me out of the experience. This is kind of on me tho, as I didn't think about this when getting that seat, but I just feel like it shouldn't have been that constant, y'know?

Similar to this, after I moved from my aisle seat to another seat nearby, I had another problem. People around me were still getting up and walking past/over me. And the space between seats is super small, so you really are being walked over. I could see this happening all over the stand seats too, as well as on the floor. I had this new seat for Leppard, and again it was at least once per song where a group of people got up and walked in front of me. Also the people in front of me kept on standing up, which you just DO NOT DO if you're in a seat (unless you're on the floor) there were even signs saying please remain seated. So this meant I couldn't see. I wasn't going to tell them to sit down, as at the end of the day they were just enjoying themselves, but it was still annoying. Maybe this is common? I've never been to a gig in a stadium where I've been in upper seats, so maybe this is just what its like? idk.

Also, and probably the main thing about the show itself, was that it felt SO. EMPTY. I would say the seats were about 75% full at MAX, and the floor was barely half full. The floor was all seated as you can't queue for GA around Wembley, but it looked barren, and sort of ruined the atmosphere. This is why I could change seats so easily, as I was spoilt for choice. I hate to say this, but I honestly think Leppard and Crüe set their sights a bit high with Wembley, but even then they could have added more seats to the floor at a cheaper price, and lowered the price of the stand seats.

Also people just did not seem to be into it? Maybe it was just my section, but it kinda goes hand in hand with people constantly getting up and moving around. People seemed to treat it as just another night out, rather than a concert where the artists are performing live in front of you. No matter how far away they are (and I was quite far away for this one) they are still there.

And remember my friend who had VIP? she was in the FRONT. ROW. and STILL SAID THESE SAME THINGS? And I have seen other comments and show reports saying the same. Mostly about how empty it was.

Soz for the long post you guys, but I feel like I needed to say this to get it off my chest. I know this comes off as super ungrateful and tone deaf, and I did enjoy some parts of it, but overall, for something I have been looking forward to for months, I was very disappointed. Of course, this is all my personal opinion and experience, and I know so many people had an amazing night, so please don't think I am trying to rain on your fun!

[lightvsdark18]

Some responses to voicelines (Floyd)

You havin' fun gathering all this junk? You're like one of those merpeople who are into collectin' stuff that fell to the bottom of the sea.

... Yeah, most likely.

What're you doing today? Maybe I'll tag along.

(lies) The library.

Man, every day's a party when I'm with you. I can't get enough!

Aw. You're fun too, sometimes.

School Uniform

You wanna know what kinda classes we had in the sea? I can bring you to one, if you're interested. Hee hee...

I'm now concerned.

I got a perfect score on the test, but he still gets mad at me for skipping class. I don't get it. If I get good grades, what does it matter?

Because you're here to work and not lollygag.

Aha ha! Keep that up and I'll squeeze you silly.

And I'll squeeze you back.

P.E. Uniform

I'm kind of feeling it today. Wanna try me?

Try you at what?

Apparently, if you over-exercise, you won't get tall. I'm still growing, so I gotta be careful!

Wait, you're still growing? Damn, boy, how tall do you need to be?

I'm not in the mood for Basketball Club today. You go in my place.

(flat) No.

I'm suuuper flexible. You wanna see? I can show you!

Eh, sure, why not.

Wanna play tag or something? I'll be "it." Better start running.

Floyd, no... Boy, stop smiling like that.

Labwear

If you're having trouble finishing your homework, hit up Azul. He'll help you out with anything if you pay his price.

Not interested.

If you mix everything in according to the recipe, you already know it's gonna work out, right? That's the most boring thing.

It helps you remember the recipe because you're physically making it instead of just reading it and memorizing.

Want me to help out with that experiment? Aha ha, don't be so shy.

It's not shyness, it's just me not trusting you.

I'll give you the potion I just made. You wanna know what it does? How should I know?

You made it. You know what? Nevermind, I don't want the potion anymore.

Here. Have some cookies I made from random stuff. You'll enjoy every last bite for me, won't you?

Actually, I'm not hungry. (Lie)

Ceremonial Robes

Want me to teach you the rules here at Night Raven College?

You actually know the rules? Heh.

Standing still is so boring. How about you and I do a little something fun instead?

I rather not cause trouble, or be in it.

The black carriage even came down under the sea to get us. It's a pretty sweet ride, if I do say so myself.

The black carriage went to the bottom of the ocean? Wait, actually thinking about it, it shouldn't be surprising considering I'm here. But that's just raises the question on how far the carriage can go.

Sitting still for a whole ceremony is such a waste of time. Oooh, I've got an idea. I'll tail you, Shrimpy.

You'll what?

You're so funny, Shrimpy. Aren't you scared I'll get back at you for all that poking?

No, not really because I'll just poke you back.

Oh, whatever is the matter? Ha! I was pretending to be Jade. Did it work? You can tell us apart if you look real close.

I really didn't expect your voice to change. Good job.

Dorm Uniform

You got a very serious problem? There might be something we can do. Heh heh heh...

("My safety is in danger, isn't it?")

Don't be so scared. I just wanna give you a nice squeeze.

Nice for you or me?

I won't squeeze anyone who makes good on their payment. But if you DON'T... You ain't getting any mercy from me. Hee hee!

("What's wrong with these guys?")

Bowties are all tight and uncomfortable, don'tcha think? I dunno how Jade and the others deal with 'em.

I never worn a bowtie, but I know I couldn't handle it either.

Lookit these socks. They got an octopus pattern on 'em! Just as cute as the Sea Witch herself, right?

Can I get a pair?

Outdoor Wear

I hope camping on land's as action-packed as camping under the sea!

You can go camping in the sea? What is it like?

Check out this moray mascot I got. It's supposed to be Jade, since he wanted to come camping. Looks just like him, yeah?

Heh, yeah it does.

Now to just cast the line and wait— nope, I'm bored. How about we ditch this and get up to somethin' fun?

Stay at the line. I'll tell you a story if it will entertain you.

The fairies by the lake were so teeny. One little squeeze and they'd probably just disappear.

Please don't squeeze them.

How's a campfire different from a regular bonfire?

I don't really know.

Halloween

Oh man, I'm DIGGIN' that look, Shrimpy. I gotta make your face contort in fear more often.

Please don't.

I MAY have gone a skosh overboard on the pranks last year. I'm takin' it easy this time around.

This is you taking it easy? I'm lucky I wasn't here last year.

Azul asked me to chip in with pumpkin carvin'. It turned out to be more fun than I expected, so I made a moray jack-o'-lantern.

Can I see it?

That your idea of scarin' someone, Shrimpy? It ain't workin'. How's about I show you how it's done?

I rather you not. I'm not trying to genuinely scare anyone because I don't feel like it.