#so it's either 'I’m not going far away' or 'long ago and far away' idk

[whiteshipnightjar]

Bombs Are Whistling

by Joanna Newsom

I face it with my flayed skull in the glacial morning wind It burns like salt, it’s not your fault that I ain’t got no skin.

I ran into the dawn until my voice was gone. I call, ‘I love you through it all.’

They said I couldn’t hold you when I tried to take your hand. Alarm bells rang; the nurse was saying things I can’t understand.

Too warm, too warm. I drew my arm away against the glass. ‘Is he okay?‘ my flayed skull asked. 

I prayed the fear would pass. They say you need me here more than I need that. But I need it. 

My eyes scan every place, and I stand guard all night in vigil, in warning and in waste. Unheeded.

Wild, too cold and blue. But look at those curls. How do you do?

Though I cannot imagine, recall it or conceive. I’m not going far away, I know what I believe. I know, I know, I know because they tell me that it’s true the spell will break me and wake me anew.

So I sit and rock and drop through space and kiss your face and sing. The smoke is thick, my skin is sick, the bombs are whistling.

The death, the doom, the leaden, looming dread is always near. But I love you, and you are here.

I feared that it had won. I feared that you would never find me, my darling son. But you found me.

And though it took awhile, now I look and find your blinding starlight smile surrounds me.

We bleed through, clear and true. Here with you now.

I wish that I could show you what I know about this pain. I’ll tell ya now, I don’t know how, but I’ll be back again. 

For bowing in the scouring wind that lays low everything. ‘I love you,‘ my flayed skull sings.

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog pt.2 w/ jeong yunho

idk if this will become a series (it absolutely will, i love him). if you have any asks about this little series then i’ll be more than happy to answer them 🥰

warnings - yandere!yunho, hybrid!yunho, role reversal, yunho calls reader puppy, talk of murder, talk of living in a bad neighbourhood, allusions to masturbation, choking

pt1

you were under the impression that by wearing yunho’s jumper, it might piss him off just a little bit

but as you walk into the living room where he lays, limbs slung across the couch that he deemed beneath him no more than a few nights ago, you’re shocked to see a smirk playing on his lips

if you had much more on beneath it, you might have torn it from your body and thrown it at his smug face, but you wouldn’t want to give the mutt the satisfaction of seeing your tits

“going somewhere, puppy?” it’s been three long, arduous days and he still hasn’t dropped the nickname

you’re this close to getting your name tattooed in hold across your forehead; maybe then he won’t forget it

“the shop,” you walk over to grab your boots; heavy and intimidating and perfect for kicking any creep that gets too close, “i want a snack.”

“there’s plenty of food in the fridge,” he deadpans as you make your way over to the sofa

he doesn’t move, not even when you glare so hard at his legs that he can practically feel you burning holes in them

annoying prick

you settle for sitting right on the edge of the cushion, just far enough on to keep yourself from toppling to the floor as you slip your shoes onto your feet

“i don’t want the food in the fridge,” you say simply as you tie your laces, “if i wanted the food in the fridge, i’d eat the food in the fridge.”

a few seconds of silence pass by, and you’re almost positive that he spends them rolling his eyes behind your back

“it’s dangerous to go out at this time on your own,” as if that’s not the most obvious thing in the world

luckily for you, you have the safe streets memorised, and you carry your keys tight in your fist as a make-shift shiv

yunho seems to forget that you’ve lived here far longer than he has; you’re far too used to how dangerous it can be when twilight hits

“nothing stopping you from coming with,” you suggest, although you hope to everything that is holy that he says no

“i’m not getting changed out of my pyjamas, puppy,” a sigh of relief escapes your mouth as he gives you what want

“well, i’m going either way,” you insist, and he nods in understanding, expecting no less of you

you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re stubborn, maybe even sometimes to the point of being a brat

it’s just so fun to see your victim’s get riled up as you push each of their buttons over and over again

part of you hoped you would’ve learned yunho’s buttons by now, enough to get a little rise out of him, at least

but as he looks you up and down with nothing but neutrality in his eyes, you know that yet again you’ve failed

perhaps you’ve met your match, at long last; the person who can turn each and every jab around and aim them back at you

as your annoyance rises within you, making your bones buzz and your heart clench tight in your chest, you understand just how true that is

and you’re fucking stuck with him

“have fun getting murdered down some dark alley, then,” he just waves you off, only serving to piss you off more

“you’re a prick,” you spit in retaliation

your footsteps are heavy as you head to the door, eyes already trained on the little table you stash your keys on for safekeeping

the little silver stash normally takes pride of place, sitting pretty in the centre so as to not go unseen whenever you’re in a rush to leave

but the table is empty, and you know you won’t have put your keys anywhere else

but then there’s a tinkle behind you; the gentle sound of metal upon metal drawing your attention away from where the keys should be to where they actually are

the mutt’s black ears twitch atop his head as he gently fingers the bundle

you watch as the light catches, reflecting back on his stupidly handsome face in dots of shimmering light

fortunately, his prettiness only makes him that much easier to hate; of course the bastard is a prick when he looks like that

“yunho, give me my keys,” your voice is stern, tired of whatever game it is he’s playing already

“don’t want to,” he says, amusement laced through his words

the keys clink louder this time as he takes them in his fist before slipping them into his sweatpants without another word

“yunh—”

“let’s play a game, puppy,” he cuts you off, “if you fetch the keys like a good pup, i’ll let you go to the store. that sound good?”

the smile he wears is wicked, all teeth like he’s a snarling beast

he might look human, for the most part, but the sharp canines that dig into his bottom lip are a harsh reminder that he’s closer to that beast than he seems

but you’re not in the business of losing, and you certainly refuse to give up without a fair fight

if he wants to play dirty, then dirty is what he’ll get

it takes a mere few seconds for you to cross the room back to the couch, shimmying round it until you’re standing in front of him, legs lined up with his crotch

you sink to your knees, not daring to look at his face despite hearing the deep chuckle he gives you in response

“which pocket?” you spit, words sharp and impatient

“work it out, pup.”

you jump at the feeling of a warm hand petting the top of your head, fingers curling around an invisible pair of dog ears to match his own

you try your best to ignore everything about the situation; the game of fetch, the way you’re knelt at his feet, the way his hand absentmindedly plays with your hair

everything about it screams puppy, and that is not your fucking name

your fingers dip into his left pocket, feeling around for a moment or two before coming out empty handed

you don’t even allow a second to tick my before you delve your fingers into his other pocket and feel around in a similar way

but you can’t feel anything in there either, and it stumps you

yunho hums as you draw your fingers back, finally shifting your unamused gaze back to his face

“you know what i think?” he starts, and you nod, desperate for a hint of some kind, “i think you’d be so pretty with a collar wrapped around that lovely little neck of yours.”

it takes you off guard a little, not at all what you were expecting to drop from his mouth

and yet somehow, as the words sink in a little, you find yourself rather unsurprised

you shoot him the harshest glare you can muster before pushing his hand firmly away from your head

“well i don’t have a collar around my nec—”

the warm palm you pushed from your skull not a second prior, now lies on your throat

you can feel it, gentle yet firm as it holds you in place and pushes your protests away

“are you sure about that, puppy?” he growls; a sound that travels straight to your core, “from where i’m sitting, it looks like you do.”

it takes everything in you to shuffle back, just far enough away that his hand slips free of your neck and falls flat against the leather of your sofa

you stand on shaky legs, taking a few steps towards the bathroom as you do everything in your power to not look at him

if you do, you’re not quite sure what will happen

but your avoidant eyes miss the way he slips the keys free of his waistband and tosses them onto the coffee table, satisfied enough in his win to know he doesn’t have to hide them anymore

“i’m going for a shower,” you say with a shaky voice, slipping out of his sight as he gives you a hum of affirmation

it looks like the shower head will come in handy tonight

[slut4thebroken]

Mark The Day

��─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | Jackson wants an heir, so he buys a slave from an underground breeding farm.

Warnings | NON CON, smut, sexual slavery, dark, dead dove do not eat lmao, vibrator, overstim, multiple orgasms, breeding, light humiliation/degradation, mentions of branding/inflicting harm on reader, bondage, dehumanization, AU?

Words | 2k

Notes | Idk I tried to keep the focus on reader only and not really write anything about the ‘other women’ but I kinda had to a tiny bit just for the ‘plot’. Hopefully it wasn’t too much tho😓

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 16: sexual slavery

Read this first ❤️🫶

“As you can see, we make sure to thoroughly train each slave.”

Jackson glanced around the room, but his attention was drawn to you. You weren’t acting out, but you were significantly more jittery and visibly anxious than the others. “What about her?” He asked, pointing at you. 

“Arrived at the facility a week ago. We’ve just begun the training process…” Jackson continued admiring you, taking in the way your red rimmed eyes looked around frantically and your body trembled. “If you’re interested, training should be complete by the end of the month.” As the man spoke, Jackson glanced around the room, taking in the other, more docile girls. 

“No need.” He said surely, turning back to the man who hesitated. “I’ll take her.”

“I would strongly advise against that, Mr. Rippner… She’s far from obedient and the fertility treatment hasn’t started yet.” 

“I know. I’d like to break her in myself.” His eyes strayed to you again and his lips curled up into a small smile. “How long does the fertility treatment take?” He asked, not looking away from you. 

“We usually wait two weeks before putting them on the market.” 

“Can it be done in one?” 

The man paused for a moment. “I’m sure.. for the right price, we can make that happen for you, Mr. Rippner.” Jackson turned to face him, his expression relaxed but also a little amused at the man’s overt attempt to upsell him. In response, he held his hand out to shake on the deal. 

“May I?” He asked, pointing to you. The man just gestured to you, silently giving permission. Jackson walked over to you and you tried to back away, but the chain connecting your collar to the floor wasn’t long enough for you to be able to escape him. He crouched down in front of you and examined you closely with a small smirk. 

“You’re a pretty thing.” He murmured, hungrily dragging his gaze down your nude body. When he lifted his hand to grab your chin, you flinched away from him, making him chuckled softly. “And scared too… We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” 

A week later, Jackson returned to pick up his new slave and take you home. “What’s your name?” He asked, making you falter. After a moment, you gave him your name, your voice timid and full of fear. “Jackson.” He responded, guiding you through the house to a room. 

“You’ll sleep in the crate in my bedroom. However, for our play time, I set up the spare room just for you.” He smirked predatorily, watching you walk inside. You looked around, feeling your stomach churn as you took in all of the whips, toys, restraints, and furniture. 

“Fortunately for you, I’m not a cruel man.” He pulled you over to a breeding bench and bent you over it, strapping down your wrists, ankles, and torso. “So between most breeding sessions, you’ll spend your time right here.” You could hear movement, but you couldn’t turn your head enough to see what he was doing. Then he was suddenly walking in front of you, now holding a ball gag. You clenched your teeth, trying to keep him from putting it on, and he sighed. 

“Either I put this gag on and continue as planned, or I whip your ass until you bleed, and then put this gag on and continue as planned.” Your bottom lip quivered as your gaze shifted between his face and the gag. With tears in your eyes, you reluctantly opened your mouth. “Good girl.” He secured it, then brushed away a tear that escaped your waterline. 

You flinched when he suddenly stood up, but he just moved behind you again, out of your field of vision. As soon as you felt something press against your clit, you stiffened, then cried out when he turned the vibrator on. He seemed to be debating what speed to set it at, but eventually he settled on the highest setting. 

“There we go.” He smiled, stepping back to admire his work. Your legs were already quivering from the intense pleasure and he could tell you were trying to hold back your sounds. Walking back in front of you, he grabbed your cheeks and lifted your face as he bent down. 

“That feel good?” He cooed mockingly. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, your brows knitting together in an adorable display of agony. “I bet it does.” He chuckled. “Like I said, I’m not completely cruel. I know you won’t ever be turned on enough for our breeding sessions to not hurt you— at least, not yet.” When you whimpered around the gag, he released you and stood back up. “You’re welcome.” He said dryly. 

You could hear his footsteps as he walked and you were already dreading whatever he was going to do next. Instead, all he said before slamming the door shut was, “Enjoy your night.” 

The next morning, he woke up and took his time making himself breakfast and getting ready for the day. Eventually he decided to check on you.

Your sounds were audible before he even opened the door and once he stepped inside, his cock twitched at the sight. “Oh wow.” He chuckled, stepping closer. At the sound of his voice, your crying intensified and you started pleading through the gag. The vibrator was still going strong, but it was covered in your come, and there was a puddle beneath you, so you either squirted, or pissed yourself. 

“Maybe I should’ve let them train you a little longer.” He smirked, slowly making his way to the front of your body. “Do I need to get you some pee pads?” He cooed, making you cry harder. Once he was in front of you, he grabbed your hair and yanked your head up, relishing in the image of your flushed, tear stained cheeks and the saliva that was steadily drooling out of your mouth around the gag. 

“How was your night?” He asked, only making you more distressed. You were sobbing so hard that he could even see the snot leaking from your nose. With a sigh, he released you and walked behind you to turn off the vibrator. Your whole body sagged in relief, your muscles still twitching weakly. 

Leaning closer, he used one hand to grab your ass and pull it open a little, while the other dragged through your slick folds. You let out a choked sound when he pushed two fingers inside you without warning. 

“Perfect.” He murmured, slowly fucking them in and out of your drooling hole. You were still so tight, but he would at least be able to fit his cock in there. You whimpered and squirmed a little, barely able to move in the restraints, and he let out a low groan, unable to wait any longer. 

Your body went completely rigid at the sound of his belt buckle, but he ignored it, opening his pants frantically and taking out his length. He moved the vibrator away for now and lined up, then immediately pushed in, forcing a strangled cry out of you from the sudden stretch. 

He bottomed out with a grunt, taking a moment to admire the sight of your pussy wrapped tightly around his cock. When he pulled back, it was already glistening with your arousal. It didn’t take long for him to get desperate enough to speed up, starting a punishing pace that forced little breaths and sounds out of you with each thrust. 

Once you started moaning, a smug smirk took over his face. “See? You would’ve been screaming and crying if not for my compassion.” He said, feigning concern. He reached up to unbuckle the gag and let it drop to the floor before adding, “What do you say?” 

“T-Thank you.” You choked out, voice hoarse from moaning and crying all night. 

“Try again.” He ordered with a sharp smack on your ass, forcing a strangled sob from you. 

“Thank you.. master…” The way you trailed off made it sound like a question, but he decided to let it slide this time and focus on fucking you. 

“Good girl.” He groaned, speeding up. “You’re exactly what I wanted, bitch. You still have some fight left in you, but it doesn’t take much to beat you into submission.” He chuckled, imagining all the ways he could force you to submit if you were ever disobedient. He was so excited to see your pretty skin covered in bruises, welts, scratches, bite marks, cuts— everything. He also made a mental note to brand you soon since he was now completely certain that you were the perfect slave he’s been searching for.  

The wet sounds of your pussy were obscene as he fucked you hard and fast, trying to savor his first time fucking you, but unable to hold back because of how good you felt squeezing his cock. 

“God- I’m already close.” He groaned, already deciding to do another breeding session in a couple hours, instead of waiting until tomorrow. “Your cunt feels fucking incredible.” You whined, but the way you clamped down on his cock was unmistakable. 

“Mark the day, pet. You’re going to officially be my breeding slave in a few minutes.” He smiled, making you stiffen, then start thrashing. 

“No!” You yelled, trying uselessly to escape the restraints. 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what you were being sold for.” He scoffed. “You underwent the fertility treatment, didn’t you?” 

“Please— please don’t..” You sobbed, still trying to break free. 

“This is happening, cunt.” He growled bitterly. “I paid for a slave that would give me an heir and that’s exactly what you are.” 

“Please pull out!” You cried, becoming hysterical. Jackson groaned, feeling his orgasm rapidly approaching as you continued begging and sobbing. 

“Keep fucking crying, bitch. It only turns me on more.” He said with a dark chuckle. This was exactly what he wanted; some fight. He didn’t want a broken, docile slave who took his abuse willingly. He wanted a slave who still had hope that this wasn’t her new reality, and you were still clinging to that desperately. 

His hips stuttered for a moment, then he slammed in with a grunt, fully sheathing his cock inside you. Your pussy fluttered around his twitching length, greedily taking his come despite yourself. You were crying almost violently now, babbling out senseless pleas for him to stop, but it was too late. 

When his orgasm finally faded, he panted for a few seconds, then slowly withdrew his cock. It slipped free with a wet squelch and he quickly walked over to grab the internal vibrator he bought for you. He pushed it in, keeping you plugged up, then took off all the restraints and lifted you upright. You stumbled when he dragged you over to the bed, then whimpered when he threw you down onto it. 

He started with your wrists, tying them to each corner of the bed. Then he pushed your legs up and bent you in half, letting him tie your ankles to the headboard, keeping your cunt angled up a little bit so that his come could have a chance to take. 

He stood back to admire you for a moment before remembering the last detail. You watched him walk over to grab a cloth of some kind, then you tried to turn your head away when he moved to tie it around you as a gag, but it was no use. 

“There we go.” He smiled proudly. “Now, I have some work that needs to get done before our next breeding session so you’re going to be a good little slave and stay right here.” He chuckled at his choice of words. When he turned on the internal vibrator, you screamed around the cloth and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling far too sensitive after the rough fucking. “See you in a few hours for round two, pet.” 

[gudfornuthin]

Hello I made a request a while back but you never got to it and that is completely okay! I understand completely being a writer myself. I was wondering if I could make a different request but not sure if you do it? It’s a request for Billy from stranger things?

Idea- Yn and Billy have been together for a few years and Billy survives when he is attacked. Ever since YN has hard time with nightmares but doesn’t tell Billy about it. And YN stays the night at his place and wakes up from a nightmare calling out for Billy and doesn’t see him in bed. Max comes in to trying to calm her down but YN thinks Billy is dead. Billy comes from outside in when he heard loud crying and shouting from his girlfriend. And he holds her telling her he is going nowhere and he is okay.

( Nickname: Baby or Babygirl ) if possible

I hope this isn’t too over barring but if so I completely understand. And won’t be upset if you turn down my request. Thank you for hearing me out my love!

Not going anywhere

Billy Hargrove x reader

A/N: so I’m back into my writing hit! I do apologise anon for taking way too long to do this, and idk if the other request ever came through, as my tumblr says I have three but it’s only showing this one. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and hopefully imma be writing a lot more from now on. Feedback is appreciated :)

The mall was in ruins. The Mind Flayer continued its rampage, smashing anything that got in its way. The group consisting of teens and adults had split up just moments ago, putting their plan into motion and hoping to pull it off. It all came down to this moment, defeating the monster and making it home safe.

Y/N hides behind a turned over table, battered and bruised with an arm that’s most definitely broken. She’s not a hero. She’s not used to this life, dealing with these nonsensical creatures. Her boyfriend and his sister are to blame for that.

Billy wasn’t the asshole play boy everyone claimed him to be. Not since they started dating. He’s soft, and kind, and cares. Sometimes too much. He’d never dreamed of dragging Y/N into this mess, but love does stupid things to a person. And she definitely wasn’t letting him go through all this alone.

Speaking of her boyfriend, she finally hears his shouts not far from her hiding place. She pops her head up slightly, and spots Billy running towards her.

“Baby?” His eyes land on her. “Oh thank god, I was wondering where the hell you were.”

Y/N stands up, moving towards him, wanting nothing more than to hold him tight and never let go. Before she has the chance to reach him, a long arm crashes through the wall, heading directly for Billy. The Mind Flayer. It pierces him in the chest, black sludge spurting from his mouth. Y/N lets out a visceral scream, falling to her knees. She looks into the eyes of her dying boyfriend, knowing there’s nothing she can do to help him.

Arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, pulling her away from the massacre before her. She turns her head, coming face to face with Billy’s sister Max, a sad expression on her face.

“Y/N?”

“He’s dead,” she replies to Max, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I should’ve saved him. He’s fucking dead.”

“Y/N please-”

Max’s words fall on deaf ears. “No, I can’t do this.”

“Y/N, you have to wake up.”

“He’s fucking dead!”

“Y/N! Wake. Up!”

Y/N jolts up from her lying position, sweat covering her entire body, breathing heavily. Max sits in front of her, hands on her shoulders. She looks terrified.

Y/N glances to her left, the space next to her empty. She starts to panic again.

“Where’s Billy?”

“Y/N you need to calm down-”

“The Mind Flayer, it got to him.”

Max shakes her head. “Hey, he’s just gone outside to-”

Y/N pulls at her hair, more tears threatening to fall. “No, he’s dead. I just saw him die, and I couldn’t do anything.”

She continues mumbling under her breath, ignoring Max’s pleas, promising her he’s okay. She hugs her stomach, falling on her side and closing her eyes. Max tries soothing the girl, but once again nothing works. There’s only one person who can fix this, and even though Max knows he doesn’t like to be disturbed during his ‘brooding smoke session’, she thinks he’ll let it slide this once. For his girl.

***

Billy stands outside the house, shirtless, with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He’s thought about quitting, having this conversation on the daily with Y/N. She doesn’t mind too much, just hates the smell. He doesn’t smoke indoors anymore, and always has a can of body spray and a pack of mint gums on hand. For her.

He takes a final drag, when Max rushes out the house, almost toppling over him. Her face almost matches her hair, as she grabs his arm and pulls him towards the front door.

“Maxine, do you fucking mind?” He tries not to snap at her as much as he used to, but sometimes it’s hard not to. “I can’t have five minutes of me time?”

Max continues dragging him. “It’s Y/N.”

That catches his attention, as he pushes her hand off his arm and runs into the house, not bothering to ask any questions.

He makes his way to his bedroom, pushing the door open and spotting his girlfriend lying in a curled up ball on the bed, hands on her face and sobs shaking her body. He sits down next to her, hands resting on her back as he lowers his voice just so she can hear.

“Y/N, baby?”

She doesn’t respond, but her breathing slows, acknowledging his words. Billy runs his hands down to her arms, then her face, gently lifting her head. He runs his thumbs over her eyes, and she finally opens them, bloodshot and red.

“Billy?”

He kisses her briefly on the lips. “I’m here baby girl. I’m right here.”

“I thought you’d-” she doesn’t finish her sentence, but Billy can guess where it was going.

“I’m okay, see,” he kisses her again, then her cheeks, then the crown of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

As if waking from a trance, Y/N throws herself at Billy, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He hugs her back, his arms snaking around her waist, pressing his face into her hair. They stay there for what seems like hours, both not realising how badly they needed comfort from each other. They were together, and that’s all that mattered.

[mumms-the-word]

Shadow Curse Events Pt. 1

Ketheric, Selûne, Shar, and Aylin

I’ve played through the game a few times at this point and I always find myself struggling to understand the timeline or at least order of events that occurred with the Shadow Curse. I know some things conflict because there was one version of the story in Early Access (the version where Halsin accidentally killed Isobel) and it was heavily altered for the final version of the game, and some things just got *gestures vaguely* waved away, but I keep wanting to make sense of it anyway.

So that’s what this post (edit: I mean series) is going to do. After the cut, obviously. Long deep dive post ahead! Picture of a tired Ketheric for attention and because same bro c':

TLDR: These events happen either in the 1370s or the 1390s. Ketheric loses Melodia (his wife) and Isobel (his daughter) and turns to Shar. He captures Aylin, then builds a Big Dark Justiciar Army, training them and forcing them to kill Aylin over and over. Meanwhile, a Selûnite resistance is brewing in the town, and it's kind of making everything worse. One Selûnite rebel even goes so far as to make a deal with a devil. And all of that is BEFORE the Harpers and druids arrive as an army.

We don’t have dates, unfortunately, aside from knowing that the shadow curse itself was unleashed about a century ago, so “timeline” would be a loose term to use if/when I use it. But I have two theories about when it happened.

One theory is that because the Spellplague was happening between 1385-1395 DR (during which there was neither a true Weave nor a Shadow Weave, which is what the shadow curse is made of), the shadow curse likely started around 1396-1399, just shy of a full 100 years before the game’s events in 1492. But that’s just me conjecturing based on the idea that if the Shadow Weave is gone…how does the shadow curse stick around? 

The other theory is that the shadow curse was unleashed sometime between 1371 and 1374. This is because a) Dark Justiciars were still being sent by Ketheric Thorm to destroy Moonhaven (the Blighted Village) in 1371 (Ketheric writes a letter about attacking Moonhave and a journal dated 1371 boasts that Ilyn Toth, the basement apothecary-necromancer dude, got killed by Dark Justiciars) and b) because Khelben Arunsun himself, the literal Blackstaff (super powerful and very old wizard), wrote a letter negotiating surrender on behalf of the Harpers.

We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it. So it is written, and so let it be done, Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies.

Wiki says Khelben broke his alliance with the Harpers in 1370 due to some disagreements, but it’s possible his splinter faction was at the battlefield with the other Harpers. I doubt he was there personally, but who knows. I wouldn’t go any earlier than 1371, though, because Baldur’s Gate II happens in 1369, and Jaheira would have been too busy dealing with those events to deal with Ketheric too. But it can’t be later than 1374,  because Khelben Arunsun dies in 1374.

(I have questions about how the shadow curse survived the Spellplague and the loss of the Shadow Weave, but the answer to that could simply be All Magic Was Weird and Unstable at the time…plus Thaniel was already in the Shadowfell by this time, so the land couldn't heal.)

So it’s either 1371-1374 (because of the Khelben timeline, and I guess the Spellplague didn’t affect it) or it’s 1396-1399 (because of the Spellplague, but the writers just forgot Khelben was dead by that point, or maybe his ghost wrote the surrender notice idk). Both are good enough for Halsin and Jaheira to talk about things happening “a century ago,” but you can see why I’m avoiding dates.

But let’s push it back a few more decades. Back when Ketheric was a Selûnite and Isobel a very small child.

As we’re probably all well aware, during this time, Ketheric worships Selûne along with his wife, Melodia. At some point, he even commissions the local Mason’s Guild to build Moonrise as a testament to Selûne herself, according to Morfred the mason (who you can talk to in House of Hope, it’s pretty cool). Ketheric and Melodia have Isobel, but then Melodia dies while Isobel is still pretty young. Ketheric remains a Selûnite, mostly for Isobel’s sake, until she dies too.

Ketheric: I’ll tell you a story, True Soul. About a man who sold himself piece by piece. He had…everything. A wonderful wife. A brilliant daughter. They lived not far from here. His wife died too young. Grief tore through their home like a thief, snatching away the scent of her hair, the rustle of her skirts. But the man did not break. He could not break. His daughter needed him whole, after all. She grew up—grew strong. Challenged him. Filled his heart with such joy it supplanted all sorrow. When she was killed, the man…he tried to remain whole, but it wasn’t possible. Do you understand? Player: So the man fell to pieces. Ketheric: The pain was unbearable. All-consuming. He decided he’d do anything for reprieve. First, he sold himself to the goddess of loss. But the pain did not subside, no matter his obscene feats of devotion. Then a new god came—a god who promised the man something wonderful: his daughter. Her life returned. Imagine it. He would have to give everything: his body and soul entire. He did not hesitate. Not for a moment.

We know this story. Ketheric turns to Shar and everything goes Very, Very Badly. But the exact details/order of Ketheric's Sharran days are a little hazy. So here's what I've been able to piece together to sate my own curiosity.

While Ketheric is still a faithful (but waning) Selûnite, Dame Aylin visits as an emissary of Selûne. Moonrise/Reithwin is a Selûnite refuge and the Thorms are allegedly devout favorites of the moon goddess, so it's a big deal. While she's there, she and Isobel fall in love. Ketheric disapproves, in part because Aylin is immortal and Isobel is not (Isobel and Aylin both say this in dialogue).

Plus, and this is a personal opinion, I think Ketheric might have seen Aylin's interest in Isobel as another thing Selûne was trying to take from him. It isn't enough that Selûne let Melodia die, now her daughter is trying to woo his daughter and take her too.

But then Isobel dies. Somehow. The launch version of the game isn’t clear how. Aylin mourns but Ketheric spirals. He turns to Shar, hoping she will force him to forget about Isobel, but he doesn't. Nevertheless, he becomes a zealous Sharran.

[A journal spanning years, beginning with the birth of a child and ending with what appears to be a series of dateless tragedies.] How can she be gone? Where did she go? The Moonmaiden cannot be so unfeeling - so cruel. Not toward her most devoted servant. Not after Melodia. It makes no sense. It makes no sense. I won't survive it. That much I know. Forgetting is the only possibility. The embrace of oblivion. The reprieve of nothingness. It would not be possible for a man to survive knowing what he knows. Knowing what can be lost. Shar understands that. Hers is the only mercy I can comprehend. My mind is full of holes - yet not enough. The emptiness. The time. The nothingness. And still I remember. Still I remember it all. There is no mercy in this beating heart. There is no mercy in life at all.

He builds the Gauntlet of Shar (or maybe renovates and Shar-ifies it, maybe it was already there) beneath the Thorm mausoleum, connecting it to the much more ancient Grymforge area. Grymforge becomes a kind of base or stronghold for the Justiciar army while the Gauntlet is designed to test their mettle and prepare them for the task that will make them official Dark Justiciars—killing Aylin, though it's not clear when Ketheric and Balthazar lure her into the Shadowfell.

I'll get back to that later.

We know that Grymforge was used as a Dark Justiciar stronghold and possible training ground because of all the Sharran stuff we find there. It's like super obvious. The feasthall room, the dormitories, the weapons that lay everywhere. There's basically a whole Sharran city in the Underdark beneath and near Reithwin, some of which we can see from various points in Grymforge. In fact, if you go through the poisoned room where Nere is, you can see the Gauntlet down below.

(It's a little hard to see here 'cause I play on console but there's a glimpse of the giant Shar statue that takes up a ton of space in the Gauntlet. Somehow, the two places used to connect.)

Ketheric's new Sharran teachings are ruthless and vicious. He encourages his Dark Justiciars to kill a Selûnite once a tenday or more as part of their training and service to the Lady of Loss.

The Law of Nightfall: From the moon falls the foulest of lights. iIt peeks through cracks and fissures, illuminating the most remote recesses of the Underdark. Light bestows hope, a pernicious notion which must be extinguished. At the darkest hour, pray to your Lady and feast in Her honour. The second day after, slay a disciple of Selûne. If none may be found, a Lathanderian or Mystran are an acceptable offering. Do this once a tenday, and the Lady of Loss shall know you.

Reithwin and the surrounding village soon become a hunting ground. Most people convert. Those who don't get hung in the square as examples (according to a shadow memory). All faithful Selûnites are forced to practice their devotion to the Moonmaiden in secret, led by Morfred the mason and his brother Halfred the innkeeper of Last Light Inn. Halfred hides Selûnite relics beneath Last Light (you can still find them) while Morfred plots a true resistance.

[Hidden amidst columns detailing the income and expenditure of a tavern is an aside, written in tiny, urgent handwriting.] I have concealed the sacred relics of our revered goddess in the darkest corner of this place. Morfred, my loyal brother, seeks to forge a network of allies to stand against the oppressive reign of Ketheric Thorm. Sadly, fear has gripped the hearts of many, turning them away from our cause. I cannot truly blame them, for trepidation fills my soul as well - but I must put aside my own fears and reunite with Morfred in the bowels of the Mason's Guild. Together, we shall preserve what we can of the Moonmaiden's light, and hope that the banners of the faithful soon rise against that treacherous dog, Thorm.

But as time goes on, Morfred grows increasingly distressed with the events happening in Reithwin and the ease with which people are eager to switch faiths.

- How quickly things change. The Thorms are Selûnite through and through - or so I believed. Perhaps Ketheric only converted for Melodia, and with her death - and then his daughter's - his faith died too. But to turn to Shar? It beggars belief. - Ketheric's Justiciars are growing greater in number, and more determined to rout out any traces of Selûne in Reithwin. Why do they think this town was built? One cannot rip out the foundations of a building and expect it to remain standing. - Brother and I remain the last two bastions of Our Lady of Silver in the town. A few - the trusting few - come to worship in secret by moonlit nights. Others - converts, all. Whether they truly believe, I cannot say. Impossible, isn't it?

(Don't worry, the second page is further down lol spoilers!)

Life is not going well in Reithwin, even if you're not a Selûnite. Ketheric is determined to destroy all traces of Selûne and treason of any kind. His Dark Justiciars begin tormenting citizens to reveal pockets of Selûnite resistance. He also suffers no treasonous word against him, even if the citizens in question aren't Selûnite. We see a glimpse of this and of the Justiciars' cruel influence during the questline with He Who Was and Madeline, who ratted out her friends' innocent(?) complaints about Ketheric to some Justiciars, resulting in their brutal deaths.

Eventually Morfred realizes that the Dark Justiciars are too powerful to resist and turns to Raphael, offering his soul in exchange for something to destroy the Dark Justiciar army.

- Sick of standing idle while Justiciars gain power in our humble town. What will become of us if we allow it? I met a man who was no man. Touched by a devil. Or maybe worse. But he offered me something I couldn't refuse - help. - The time is now. Ketheric's Justiciars, their stronghold in the temple below - they will be wiped out. All of them. I didn't ask how. I just want them gone. Let the Harpers have at Ketheric now. They'll make short work of him.

You can ask Morfred about this in the House of Hope, actually, where he confirms the details. I mean, he's in Raphael's house, so it's pretty obvious the he did, in fact, make a deal with him.

Infernal Mason: When tragedy came, my master fell into darkness and despair. He marshalled a great army to ruin the world and bring all into shadow. I could not let it happen. I sought out the devil Raphael and signed an infernal pact with him. He promised to destroy my master’s army, and I promised him my soul in return. The devil was true to his word. Fiends slaughtered my master’s forces, but he endured somehow, and blighted the land.

The Fiend in question here is Yurgir, who ends up crashing through Grymforge and the Gauntlet to kill all Dark Justiciars in his path. (He misses one, because Raphael is a sneaky bastard who let one get away by turning him into a swarm of rats, but I digress.) We know Yurgir caused the destruction in Grymforge, too, because of the Merregon masks and hellbeasts we find around the area, and the fact that if you pass all the checks with the Duergar mason examining the stone, he helps you piece together this narrative:

Stonemason Kith: An ancient city, hewn from the stone by the disciples of Shar, later abandoned. Untold centuries later, a new tribe revives it. Fresh walls, fresh sculptures...until a great hellbeast charges through, toppling the walls and crushing the people! Heh - that explains the infernal plate I found. Perhaps you might have use of it.

Further proof that Grymforge and the Gauntlet were once connected...somehow.

Anyway, by the time Yurgir is called in, Morfred's already been found out. Thisobald overhears him drunkenly complaining about Ketheric in the Waning Moon and informs Ketheric of his treachery. Ketheric orders a raid on the mason's guild, leaving Halfred the lone source of Selûnite resistance. It's unknown what becomes of Halfred, but considering the fact that the inn was still taking guests (like Art Cullagh) and housing the Harpers right before the shadow curse descended (there's a shadow memory of a Harper toasting his comrades in Last Light right before the battle with Ketheric long ago), it's likely he's a victim of the curse and not Justiciar brutality.

I’m not sure which is worse, honestly.

It's unclear when Morfred dies, though he admits to witnessing the first part of the shadow curse (i.e., "...but he endured somehow, and blighted the land"). But Morfred's deal coincides in some ways with the arrival of the Harpers and druids. I think he probably makes the deal with Raphael before the Harpers officially march against Ketheric and then gets caught after he hears rumors of the Harpers.

Raphael makes good on his deal around the same the Harpers arrive, perhaps a little afterward. This means Yurgir's slaughter of Justiciars in the Underdark must happen concurrently with the battle happening topside between Ketheric's army and the Harpers/druids, meaning Ketheric is losing his army on two fronts at the same time. Victory seems assured for the Harpers and druids, but of course we know now that Ketheric had a way of cheating death already in place.

He had already imprisoned the Nightsong in a Shadowfell soul cage.

Again, we’re not sure exactly when this happens, but it’s after Isobel dies and before the shadow curse, which unleashes with Ketheric’s supposed death in the battle against the Harpers and druids. However, Aylin herself says that Ketheric and Balthazar lured her into the Shadowfell under the pretense of saving an innocent.

Dame Aylin: He and his loathsome advisor Balthazar lured me into the Shadowfell, claimed they'd found someone in need of my aid. There they trapped me in their infernal cage. I was killed, murdered, made dead, over and over and over by Justiciars of every make and kind. I was reborn, for it is my nature. And Ketheric fed upon my immortality all the while.

This makes me think that Aylin wasn’t aware of Ketheric’s conversion yet, so it must have been very soon after, because otherwise, why would she trust a known Sharran telling her to enter the Shadowfell, the realm that is entirely under Shar’s control? I also suspect Ketheric built (or renovated) the Gauntlet around Aylin after her capture, perhaps at the behest of Shar due to their collaboration in making up new Justiciar teachings, or perhaps out of a sick, vengeful desire to see Aylin tormented for daring to love his daughter.

If this is true, then there’s a very real chance that Ketheric was unkillable before he truly started to torment Reithwin town, and well before the Harpers stepped in to take him down.

Anyway we at least know that Ketheric trapped Aylin in the Shadowfell before the big battle against the Harpers because a) both Isobel and Aylin talk about her being there for a century and b) because Ketheric is already using her invulnerability to survive assassination attempts on his life prior to or during the actual battle against him and his army:

23 Elient The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a fool for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality. I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.

This brings us to the eve of the battle itself. But this post is already hella long, so keep an eye out for part 2, all about the Harper and druid battle against Ketheric!

[veaspo]

UM. Hello :D I JUST discovered your like ten minutes ago but anyways

Could I please get a s/o who has like a collection of bugs? Like a bunch of terrariums(is that what they’re called? I’m not checking again.) scattered all over their house/room? Literally any characters you want to add I’m not key as long as Toby’s there🙏🙏

(I think Jeff would either try to eat(squash) one or secretly be scared of them. Maybe both. I’m not a big fan of Jeffrey, but he is v funny to write, so.)

CREEPYPASTAS X BUG COLLECTOR READER

EVAN MYERS

-he would honestly think they're cool

-evan would collect bugs with you.

-you two would have days where both of you would take off to collect bugs

-if you were unable to take off, he would collect bugs for you that day

TOBY ROGERS // TICCI TOBY

-he thinks its cool, he would be FREAKED out though

-he would take you to like bug museums (idk if those exist)

-but he would stay far away though

-he thinks they're cool but he just gets uncomfortable around bugs

-that doesn't change his love for you though

-he respects your hobbies

JEFF WOODS // JEFF THE KILLER

-he would not go into your room

-he fucking HATES bugs

-you think that with the way he looks and acts, bugs would be the least scarier thing to him

-but no, if you try to show him a bug you caught recently he is making a jeff woods sized hole in the wall

-unlike toby, he does not respect your hobbies😭

--------

3 MORE TILL IM CAUGHT UP‼️

[fruitsoxs]

I just read the jealousy drably you posted and I already really enjoy your writing! I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort and I was wondering if we could get a part 2 of sorts with comforting and loving Vash after realizing the situation made him a bit upset/ jealous. Whether you write it or not, I can’t wait to see your further work 👍

i decided to throw these two requests together!

Part 1

pairings: vash x reader , wolfwood x reader

warnings: a bit of angst, vash cries, wolfwood is kind of a jerk

notes: yeah- part 2 so soon for you babes. ily all! he one bed trope is kinda weak here so i think i might write another drabble or fic later because I love that trope. also is this a little too long to be a drabble? idk

Vash

Your eyes flicker to the man beside you for a moment. He’s not looking at you- no his eyes are conveniently tracing every other thing in this room but you. His blue eyes refuse to land on you, no matter how much you try to intercept his vision. You briefly wonder how long he can look at the same lamp before getting bored, but your sarcastic thoughts are cut short when he finally speaks up.

“I’ll switch with Meryl-” Vash says suddenly causing your eyes to widen in confusion. 

What is going on with him? 

Sure this room only has one bed. Yeah it’s a little awkward, but it’s never been such a big problem before. In fact, you have been traveling with Vash for so long that it has happened multiple times before and has never been this big of a deal! You thought the two of you were close enough that something this small wouldn’t matter- but apparently you were wrong.

Actually, Vash has been acting like this for a little over a week now. He’s been avoiding your gaze, not talking to you, and even refusing to joke around like he once did. Every time you try to approach him, it feels like he’s putting up this wall to keep you away. Even the others have started to notice. Wolfwood has been giving the two of you curious glances, and he’s kinda bad at picking up on that stuff.

You’re honestly starting to get tired of it- he’s given you no explanation about why he’s suddenly distant, and it’s beginning to really hurt. You aren’t just close with him, you’re pretty much in love with him. You have been for a long time- and while you don’t mind staying friends, it hurts more than anything to have him push you away this far.

“Don’t bother.” You finally answer after a moment of silence. “They won’t switch with either of us- they did this on purpose.” You explain throwing your bag into the corner of the room. Vash flinches at this- and you sighand take a deep breath. 

Another awkward silence fills the room, and you find yourself staring at him as he avoids your gaze again. His eyes shoot over to you for only half a second before they go back to that stupid lamp. A deep anger starts to bubble up in your chest. You don’t like getting mad at him. You barely ever do. But right now? He’s hurting you. Every time he looks away, every time he ignores you, it makes your heart sting.

You can’t even think of a reason why he’s doing this! It all started a week ago after a night at the bar. You went to grab everyone some drinks, and when you came back Vash was gone. When you asked, Wolfwood just shrugged and told you he went to bed. After that? Nothing.

“Which side do you want?” You ask, trying desperately to get anything out of him. Vash just shrugs. “I’ll take the floor.” He says without even turning to you.

Your heart sinks. What have you done? You don’t understand. 

“What is going on with you?” You suddenly ask, a little angrier than you mean to be. You can see a change in his body immediately. He goes rigged- tense. “What do you mean?” He asks. You sigh and slump down onto the bed- resting your head in your hands. “You’ve been quiet- too quiet. Every time I try to talk to you, you find some excuse to walk away. You won’t sit next to me in the car. You refuse to even look at me-” You cut yourself off, feeling tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “What did I do?”

He looks over at you with wide eyes. It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and now you can see that something is very wrong. His eyes are dark- his face is pale. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. 

Oh.

You’re so stupid. All this time you’ve been so hurt by him ignoring you, you haven’t really paid attention to him. This isn’t about you, or maybe it is, but there’s obviously something deeper happening here. There’s something really wrong.

“You didn’t do anything. I-” He starts to explain- but can’t seem to get it out. He turns away from you again. “It’s me.” He finally concludes. In the moonlight from the window you can see his shoulders shake slightly. 

“Oh Vash…” You immediately get up and reach out for his arm, he doesn’t stop you. You grab him and pull him close, hugging him tightly. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t hug you back for a second- his body stiff. Eventually though, his arms wrap around you and he pulls you close. The hug feels normal- like you’ve done it a thousand times before. And to be fair- you have. 

“The other day at the bar…that guy was flirting with you.” Vash murmurs, and your eyes widen. That silly random doctor? He was a bit funny yes- but you only were talking to him because you felt a little cornered. You don’t even remember what that guy looks like. “I saw you laughing- and I just got so jealous.” 

Your heart flutters softly. He was jealous?

“And…I just kept thinking that I have no right to feel that way. I have no right to think of you that way. Everyone around me always gets hurt, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He’s crying as he explains this, light tears dripping from his cheeks onto your shoulder. “But I can’t help but be selfish. You’re more than my best friend I…” he trails off choking up. “I love you.”

You feel your breathing stop for a moment. The room goes eerily quiet. The onlys pounds you can hear are his soft sobs, and your heartbeat. You tighten your hold on him, so he can’t even try to pull away. “I…I love you  too.” You admit softly.

“But-”

“No. I love you too. You can’t…you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t force yourself to be isolated from the world. I don’t want you to push me away- I don’t care what your reasoning is.” You cling to him as you speak. “I want to be by your side. Please let me.” You beg softly.

His arms tighten around you too, and he shoves his face into your hair, still crying quietly. You rub his back with your hand, and murmur soft words into his skin until he calms down. Soon, the two of you are just holding each other in the moonlight. 

“Okay.” is all he says, pulling away. He’s smiling down at you through red eyes, and it’s the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “I promise, I won’t push you away ever again.”

You reach your hand up to his cheek, and he turns his face to kiss your palm lightly. The two of you stare at each other for a second. “I’ll take the left side.” he breaks the moment with a playful grin and you giggle.

The rest of the night is spent cuddling and talking about your feelings. The only tears shed after that are happy tears.

Wolfwood

Despite having a romantic dance at a random bar (and yes, Wolfwood is a surprisingly good dancer) the next day things go back as they always are. Actually, things feel a little bit worse even. After weeks of trying to break down Wolfwood’s ridiculously high walls, you were finally granted a pleasant evening in his arms- only to immediately be cussed at for sitting a little too close to him in the car the next day.

It’s not like you were sitting on his lap either! All you did was softly press your leg up against his, because Vash was once again thrashing in his sleep- and he pushed you over and grumbled for you to get back in your own fucking seat. Charming right? 

Things kept getting worse after that. You two started bickering more. You both started to refuse to talk to each other at some point, forcing poor Vash to be your messenger(he was not a fan of telling you to fuck yourself for Wolfwood). You even got into a tiny argument over directions, that resulted into a bigger argument about how utterly useless you are. (Which definitely did not make you cry that night)

The others in the group were starting to get really fed up with the two of you. 

Which is how you ended up here- standing in the hallway to your tiny hotel room with Wolfwood staring at you from the doorway. He looks over to the single bed in the room, and glares at you. “This is my room.” he says matter of factly, putting his Punisher down against the wall. 

“No, I’m pretty sure this is my room.” you respond, crossing your arms.

“One second.” He huffs disappearing out into the hallway. You wait a moment, staring at where he once was with a frown. When he comes back he looks like he’s considerably more angry. “Apparently- it’s our room.” He mumbles shoving past you. 

Your eyes widen a bit, but you’re not as surprised as you should be. Meryl is sneaky when she wants to be.

There’s some shuffling behind you, and you turn to see Wolfwood grabbing some pillows and throwing them on the ground. He’s got a look on his face that’s not quite a frown. It actually looks more anxious than anything. It makes your own anger fall. 

“What are you doing?” You ask tilting your head as he messes with his floor pillows. “I’m sleeping on the ground.” he tells you, looking up for only a split second. You notice that there’s a sucker in his mouth that’s almost completely gone- it’s his second one in the past hour. He must be stressing over something.

“No you’re not.” You sigh and lean down to pick up his pillows. He catches your wrist softly, stopping you. “Yes I am.” he argues back. His grip is nothing short of respectful, so soft that you actually don’t even think of pulling away. “No, I won’t let you.” you shoot back, making him roll his eyes.

“What’re you gonna do? Force me to sleep on the bed?”

“Actually yeah- I am.”

“Oh? And how are you gonna do that Angel?”

The nickname makes you perk up a bit. It’s been a couple of days since he called you that. Maybe this means the stick up his ass is finally gone?

“Just sleep in the damn bed Wolfwood-”

“I don’t want to-” He growls, glaring at you once again. His look seems to say ‘Stop pushing me’, but you’ve never been so good at obeying warnings. So you grab his pillow and yank it away from the floor. “Too bad!” You yell, trying to throw the stupid thing back onto the bed. He stops you by yanking the pillow back towards him.

The two of you stop and glare at each other, both holding onto the pillow like children. The stare off goes on until you finally give up, sighing. “Look, if you don’t want to sleep next to me that bad- I’ll sleep on the floor.” You mumble, your chest suddenly feeling very tight.

“That’s not it…”

“ Don’t argue with me. You carry around that stupidly big cross all day- wait what?”

Your eyes meet his, and he looks down at the floor. There’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, so faint you can barely see it. “I said that’s not it. It’s not that I don’t wanna sleep next to ya…” He lets go of the pillow with a sigh, and fishes into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. In silence, he places it into his mouth and lights it.

“Then what’s the problem?” You ask a little confused. If that’s not what his issue is then what is it? Does he think you don’t want to? You’ve made it pretty clear that you wouldn’t mind! So what’s his deal?

“The problem is....” He starts looking at you as he breathes some smoke out. “I want to.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look at him. “Oh.” is all you can say as your cheeks flush red. He wants to? He wants to sleep with you? He wouldn’t be this upset if he meant platonically right? He’s definitely hinting at something right? His cheeks are a bit red too

“Me too…” you finally admit after. He laughs at your words and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah I figured. You were pretty aggressive about getting me into bed.” He mumbles playfully leaning down to pick up the pillow, and throws it over onto the bed. You can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth twist upward.

After a few moments of silence, he steps towards you and puts his hand on your cheek. “I’m sorry for being an ass recently. I just…I don’t know how to deal with this stuff.” He mumbles looking down into your eyes. “It’s okay Nick…We can take it slowly. We can figure it out as we go…” you reply softly. He smiles down at you. “You’re too good for me.”

And then, he kisses you. It’s so soft, and so careful. His lips are only against yours for a moment before he pulls away. “Let’s get some rest.”

small a/n: as always let me know if you see any typos- i only have someone to beta read my full fics, and i cannot correct my own writing.

[silverstonesainz-archive]

❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜ + the mick from my brainrot 🫶🏽

idk how to feel about this one

boy next door (ms47) ─── maybe forgetting your keys isn't too bad after all

you groan loudly, finally releasing the door knob of your front door and giving it a kick for good measure.

“well that’s one way to open it.” 

your head shoots up, eyes landing on your neighbor who offers you a warm smile. but the smile falls as soon as he sees the distress on your face, the clear look of annoyance laced into your features. he holds his hands up in surrender, angie’s leash hanging in the crease between his thumb and index finger. he mumbles a quick sorry, but you only shake your head and take steps backwards until your back hits the wall.

“no sorry, didn’t need to look at you so mean.” 

he takes cautious towards you, the dog following her owner’s lead. she sits at your feet, panting and seemingly smiling up at you. your lip all but twitches upward before you scratch her head. 

“i’m mick.” he introduces himself, to which you do the same. “locked yourself out?” 

“yeah. think my key is probably still on the damn hook by the door too.” you sigh softly, “called the building but they don’t have anyone available to come and unlock my door.” 

mick looks at his watch, then back up at you. “well, my door is right there. come in and wait, you can play with angie to pass the time.”

“i shouldn’t.”

“i insist.”

his smile is warm enough to entice you, put you at ease, and convince that he wouldn’t try to kill you. you let out a breath, nodding and following him the few feet down the hall and to his front door. angie leads the way through the front door, running straight to the couch and waiting patiently for either you or her owner to join her. mick calls out something in german, and it pulls angie off the couch and onto the rug instead.

“she’s well trained,” you comment.

mick hums, nodding as he hangs the leash up and leads you further into his home. “thanks. she’s a good girl when she wants to be. want some tea?”

he brews tea his mom sent him a couple weeks ago, promising he’d get back to you on the name when he remembers. you start in the kitchen, sitting across the other as mick listens to you talk about your day. he’s quiet, attentive, blue eyes never leaving you as you drone on and on. he interjects here and there, but he lets you talk for the most part. he’d never admit it out loud, but he likes your voice. liked it so much he let you drone on and on, even when he offered the couch. 

you try to ask him about himself, though the trophies on shelves and pictures hung up tell stories of their own. you nearly choked when you realize who your neighbor turns out to be, but you try not to let it show. mick doesn’t talk much about racing though. he talks about hiking and his favorite trails. he tells you about his trip to australia with his friend jack, and how he’s determined to travel to even more places in the coming year. you like his voice, how it’s soft and gentle. you’d never tell him that though. 

the next time you look at your watch, an hour and a half has flown past you and you still had yet to hear from the building management or the locksmith. you yawn softly, eyes already feeling heavy. 

“its getting late,” you mumble, “i can go wait in the hallway if you’re ready to turn in…”

“nonsense. you’re welcome to stay, if you want.” 

“you don’t mind?” 

“not at all.” 

mick hops off the couch, disappearing down the hall of his apartment. it’s laid out almost exactly like yours, just flipped. and his view is far better, with the skyline twinkling through the window. you had a view of the pool, which appealed to your nosy tendencies. 

he comes back not too long later, pillow and blankets in his arms. you try to help him fix up the couch, but he shoos you away before you can even lay a finger on the blanket. 

“i left some clothes out for you in the bathroom if you wanna change. a toothbrush too.” 

you smile, uttering a thank you and moving down the hall. folded neatly by the sink is a mercedes tshirt, grey sweatpants, and one purple toothbrush. you take a look around, stifling a laugh at how messily organized his bathroom is. towels are crookedly hung up on the rack, shaving products on the sink instead of on the shelf, and other hygienic products on the other side. all grouped together, but not where they’re meant to be. the one thing that catches you the most of guard is his toothpaste, squeezed and rolled up from the bottom.

after changing and brushing your teeth, you return to the living room to find mick standing by while idly using his phone. he looks up at the sound of your feet pitter-pattering into the room. 

“i wasn’t sure if you slept with the tv on or not, but i left the remote on the table. and i got you a glass of water in case too.” he smiles proudly, pointing to the remote and glass on the coffee table. you mumble a thanks, walking over and around the couch. he watches you move about, plopping onto the couch. he clears his throat. “im gonna go to bed, but if you need anything just knock on my good.”

you nod, “thanks again mick.”

“of course.”

it’s quiet, not a single movement as you both bask in the other’s presence. you feel your cheeks begin to heat up when you notice him staring, averting your gaze quickly. he’s the same way, blushing pink as he turns away and scratches the nape of his neck. 

“well… good night.”

“good night mick.”

he scurries off, the bedroom door shutting quietly. you lay down, inhaling the scent of mick on his pillow. and you smile to yourself, burying your face in it as you pull the covers up to your chin, falling asleep and dreaming about the boy next door.

[lesfir]

Hi! I’m a big fan of Astarion’s character as a whole (Spawn and Ascended) but I don’t really feel comfortable talking about him in a lot of places because of… you know 🫤 but I was wondering if you had any headcanons on his background before vampirism? Theres a few things I’ve seen that kind of imply maybe he wasn’t always a noble, like the ratcatcher line, or his unmaintained grave in a public cemetery, or that he’s really ambitious and strives to not be nothing/a nobody. Or even the fact that he’s a charlatan/rogue. I like to think that his drive for power and wealth comes from him being lower class at one point and he climbed the ladder on his own, that’s why he’s even more bent on having it again. Idk I could go on but I was curious what u think

Hello, thank you for your question! I have poor English, but I will try my best.

> whole (Spawn and Ascended) but I don’t really feel comfortable talking about him in a lot of places because of… you know I know, still this, gross. Poppsychology hysteria is very high. Evil Win is something that is not possible according to Anti. Pure Health or Abuse Tragedy. Although "I can heal\fix someone (narcissistic, immoral, traumatized manipulator) with the power of love, kindness, questionable therapy skills, "I'm proud" leads to the last one if you're so zealous in your health-psychology research. That "I love to hate it"-moment, bully instinct, whatever the means and methods. I'm sure if AA was breathing, Anti would find shit to throw. Absolutely destructive poisonous behavior.

Well, it's a shame this is happening to the fandoms, I hope it goes away in the next five years. The golden recommendation of fandom that I've heard - if you feel shame, discomfort for what you like - you close the door and leave the place, for your own calm and enjoyable time. When things like this happen to a fandom there's clearly something wrong with it, although that's a problem with many fandoms right now, it doesn't negate that it's wrong. All right, enough about that.

You are fortunate to enjoy two.

> but I was wondering if you had any headcanons on his background before vampirism? One of the biggest assholes of Baldur's Gate is my head for "Astarion before Cazador". I think it's a constant. > few things I’ve seen that kind of imply maybe he wasn’t always a noble There are no objective hints for me in the game for that. I can assume that option, but most of my thoughts are that he was always noble. There is one thing about Idle champions, more on that later.

>ratcatcher line No-no. Because that's the line for Original Astarion when he's already become Lord. It's a reference to his slavery to Cazador. That he was forced to eat rats. Not to his mortal life.

I'll add here too, that he was wealthy, with power, and he remembers that. But we're talking before even that and "was it always so?", this angle will also be detailed below.

>his unmaintained grave in a public cemetery He died 200 years ago, so... Maybe he didn't even have people close to him. It could indicate that he didn't have one in his mortal life who would have grieved his death for a long time. Either that someone is lazy or doesn't like cemeteries. I wish we knew more about it, but we have what we have.

>or that he’s really ambitious and strives to not be nothing/a nobody I thought he had ambitions. He is not without ambition. However, I now think his theme is one of pleasure, hedonism. Power and high status is a tool in his hands to live and flourish. The desire for power comes from the very beginning if you refer to the artbook. He wanted more. But why? And for what? So far I see it that he realised it was a power is fun, useful sickle, especially in the field of law, ruling, and without it, well… the chances of dying and not enjoying harvest that world has to offer are higher. I'm sure he was arrogant, proud of everything he had, influence, wealth, including his beauty and his voice. He liked it when his voice sounded loud in the hall. He sure liked being someone important. This was intensified when he became a slave, especially as he was emphasised all the time how small he was. It's a huge wound of the loss of everything.

>Or even the fact that he’s a charlatan/rogue Stephen Rooney loves the rogues in DnD. He said in one interview but I'll drag out the answer even more if I search :,,,,,) That in my opinion is the main reason, he liked writing a trickster. He was needed in the story. Knaves often don't have high status. They want it have by stealth. Being noble for archetype rogue is a pretty fresh concept. Also Noble may not be so important and there is something to aspire to, more, grander.

Charlatan's juicy moment in DnD 5, on which BG3 was written.

Charlatan Bonds «I come from a noble family, and one day I’ll reclaim my lands and title from those who stole them from me».

D&D 5e Player's Handbook Part 1 | Personality and Background 128 p. Charlatan

Now for more details about my point of view. A lot, I got inspired to write so here we go.

It's hard to speculate on Astarion's backstory if you start relying on canon, which I usually prefer to do. ***

And canon was…

The entire first act, some scenes are cut (3-4), others in shortened to 1-2 phrases as the dialogue with animation is removed, but it remains, as well as the approvals and phrases "chicky little pup", all written with the ideas that Astarion was:

Greedy for power, hunger for eternal life, corrupted elite from the Upper City. Who sold the criminals, gurs (they're "savages" in Faerun) to vampires as food, and then sold them into slavery.

Why… It's been so little revealed. Who took away a whole detailed story about how this horrible man became a slave (not perfect either, Cazador suffered for 200 years) and then became a sunshine Lord with the help of my corrupted Tav.

As far as I know, no one could force the developers talk about the main ideas about the story, writing it in an artbook, selling the artbook in a physical edition until now, plot which they might have thought to change all or part, and to give an interview to VICE and YouTube channel (in which he repeats wording from the interview). „A disgraced nobleman who used his position as a local magistrate to serve a vampire clan by feeding them prisoners, he was eventually too corrupt even for them and was effectively sent to serve as the personal slave of a powerful vampire”

Baldur's Gate 3 Features You Didn’t See In The Demo 14:12 „Vampires made him their spawn after catching him selling criminals into slavery when he was a magister. His punishment has lasted hundreds of years and Swen cryptically refers to something written on his back that when you finally see it, you'll be, and I quote, "oh f**k!” I wrote more about it here. It was a hook for the players. Which has now become a reason not to trust Larian at all. In my opinion it was decided to leave unrevealed in order to make the product more mass-market or Larian's team didn't have enough time.  

Larian also couldn't decide which character was Astarion. - Noble - EA - Courtesan - EA-time Charcter Sheet - Charlatan - Release

Or does it combine everything together? Courtesan is no-no for me, very. Could this be a reference to his slavery when he seduced people? When thinking of courtesans, it is rather presented as a forced choice: either poverty or this. Or fully a choice. For example, Cherie 2009. Where courtesans did make a lot of profit themselves, money not only to survive, but to live very luxuriously. In Astarion's case, it was simply slavery, of any kind or manner. Well, about the victims he could have knocked them out in a dark alley, or holding a knife to their ribs and brought them in. The explanation that Cazador made it such a torture for him to have sex doesn't convince me much. + Using Cazador to explain everything is meme, no plot, lacks complexity and the player's personal assumptions, impressions and experiences (grounded in the knowledge of psychology especially) don't add to it to the actual game. Music and acting unfortunately too. Weak scripts and cut content affects. So the "courtesan" as a reference to his slavery seems to me kind of wonky. If this was before Cazador, meh. There's a movie called "Dangerous Beauty", 1998. I don't remember it well, but I remember the woman had a choice of work, convent or Courtesan due to poverty. Did he really not want to work so badly? :,) Or was he really that poor and was lucky enough to get into a prestigious brothel, and further up the hierarchical ladder, because of need. (no, I don't like it) I don't think Astarion was forced to do that and he was so poor. I think it might have been a way to gain power. He could have just been from an impoverished noble family (so he didn't know how to work and hated it) and decided that the way of his beauty is more efficient. He got money and influence and became a magistrate. I don't like the idea still.

I can live with the word if it is used with the historical context of the Middle Ages.

Given how entrenched the word has become in the modern day, I don't think it could have been with this context.   But by the way fits perfectly with noble, charlatan and magistrate.

"In European feudal society, the court was the centre of government as well as the residence of the monarch, and social and political life were often completely mixed together. Prior to the Renaissance, courtesans served to convey information to visiting dignitaries, when servants could not be trusted".

(oh and the point that he doesn't trust anyone, he's seen how much betrayal there is in high society. In this case, Astarion could also seek influence through seduction, but it was his desire and no longer even out of need or habit. It could even be one of libertine entertainment, that's still profitable)

I will always prefer noble or charlatan. Charlatan fits, including on DnD.

Idle champions of the forgotten realms.

Among the items Astarion has are "Forged Potents of Nobility". But also the portrait of the Cazador, the Vampire Rapier. It could be an Easter egg out of context with other items, hint that he wasn't noble right away. He could, as Magistrate, engage in paper forgery and sell. And, wasn't Astarion hunting in the Upper City, maybe he had to have noble documents to get into some places. But since he was outside the law of mortals, like a vanishing shadow, he had forged papers. Yes, while I was writing this Astarion noble became canon again.

The Dungeons & Dragons 50th Anniversary Superdrop Post here It was an ad somewhere on instagram. You can see the ‘sound’ icon at the bottom, identical to Instagram. I tried to find it on the official dnd instagrams, but no results. Need THIS ALL very much. He was probably changed to charlatan because he has no status at the moment. Although for games, the archetype ‘noble’ is still connected to the attitude towards the world around you. ‘I'm better,’ striving for luxury, squeamishness, arrogance. So he behaved like that, but now he doesn't have that status and power - so the game decided to more correctly call him a charlatan who had his nobility taken away from him, like in the DnD5 book. Also he acted like a charlatan (most likely) when he was with the magistrate, so that point fits as well. Let's clap for Astarion, who is noble again. 💅✨👑 Clap harder because he do nothing for it, at all.

His age has also been changed several times, which is still a mistake in the game script and on the gravestone. In my humble opinion. - 350 - Death at 150 (Idle champions of the forgotten realms, first time) - 239 - Death at 39 (229 - 268 DR) (game BG3) - 263 - Death at 63 (Idle champions of the forgotten realms, after change) I'm no DnD expert so you're reading what I found and checked while I was writing, hopefully it will be ok here. Speaking of consciousness Being in the society of other races that live, grow up and die faster, elves adapt to this life and are already considered adults. There was a good example to explain: it's like a rather infantile 18 year person who already understands everything. Has rights and obligations before the law, if they live in a society other than elves they a full-fledged adult member of society. But emotionally tends to be more naively, maximalism, impulsively, intense.

After turning into a vampire, he didn't age, that's the point. How Cazador cut his back, his skin unrecovered? Probably the holy water, spell. How old is the half elf Shadowheart? About 40, she looks 25 - half elves age faster than higher elves. Astarion is a high elf how could he age faster than Shadowheart at 39 years - no way. Halsin is 350, he's a wood elf, but in DnD5, high elves and wood elves don't have such of the aging body difference. He looks older than Astarion by I don't know, like 10 years? When do High Elves get their first wrinkles? (sorry Astarion) Alright, in Larian's homebrew in BG3? Considering Shadowheart, Halsin and lil wrinkles Astarion, Idle champions was right here about 150 for a high elf, but 63 can be tolerated. *** So we have an extremely large space for headcanons about his backstory.

There's an option headcanon his backstory as a funny goofy hedonist. Possibly who could do evil things to the poor, vagabonds, “barbarians”. In canon we have one moment in Act 1 where Astarion tells his story with the Gurs. “They didn't like the decision I made” - 99% of the time that decision was unfair. I'm sure he was prejudiced before the attack. I don't think he tried to judge fairly, justly and mercifully those he considered ‘trouble makers’ and ‘barbarians’.

Also we have space for headcanons of how evil he was. (I think though he was a goofy hedonist at any way). Given the latest news with noble, I think he's been one since birth. Well, I'll keep the part where I little speculate about how he could have been non-noble, at the very beginning. And little about how writing his attitude towards the world (very noble).

I definitely had thoughts that he tried really hard to be on top because he was poor once. Though he likes skillful thieves, he has quite a bit of disdain for the poor, vagabonds, wretched, plebs etc. This incidentally reveals his status-issue, he became in that low status he hated. I'll give a few examples that can be shown glimpse hints of his past as a magistrate. Astarion: I've watched urchins freeze to death on the street. It looks peaceful - just like falling asleep.

The concept that he was “urchins” too, and hated it - possible, wanted nothing to do with this position, becoming noble he completely separated himself from this world. But no, I don't think so, I'm not close to that idea. I feel the mood that he was always noble, how mutch rich and influential? - is already that moment where I'm considering different options. Yenna approaches the camp to ask if they can stay.

Astarion: Absolutely not. We've hit our quota for mangy strays.

Minthara and Laezel react in a similar mood. Astarion, though, emphasises some aspect of poverty. Mangy stray. These are just few examples, there are more, approvals, hints.

There's also a scene about “Justice”. Which in my opinion is a hook to his past and the idea of his character, story. Narrator: A true champion knows justice and eliminates those who stand in its way. Restore the balance of justice. Wyll: Justice. No pardon without repentance, and no penalty without mercy. Wyll: The right path often lies between the extremes. Astarion: Mercy? Please - justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.

Player: I'm with Astarion here. Off with every criminal's head, I say. Wyll: If such violence is truly justice, then let it never again be called a virtue. ___ I think Stephen Rooney had a hand in this scene. This theme of violence, justice, about the dark side of humanity. Harshness can bring justice. It can become violence. Can become so corrupted and vicious that it ceases to be justice. (or has it always been a side that's always been kept quiet...) Can be in balance. Astarion hardly shares Wyll's point of view. Not to mention his history with vagabonds. The thing is... No one would care about mercy if a rabble of vagrants attacked your home. Wouldn't you regret trying to keep things in balance? The crowd doesn't care who was an honest man and who wasn't - everyone is a target. In that time and place (the Middle Ages) Astarion has a point.

Wyll literally said right, good things. Astarion: Mercy? Please~ It is XD yeah.

Astarion has the freakiest moral scales, always. In reality, he cares little about justice. He has an opinion about it. But it will still be "good, as long as it doesn't hurt me". If justice points its sword at him, he'll turn things around so it doesn't have to be that way. Will be proud if it's successful. He's not a wise character, even if he has a point in his story where the gray morality. I paid a little attention to it here. It's amazing how his character brings fun to the dark side, luring down the path of vice. Astarion has a picture of the world according to “evil” in DnD, “the strong survive, the weak die”, this picture is similar to Laezel and Minthara. But Astarion has no ideas or what he serves - his desires are the guideline. One thing is clear to me - he likes to live a pleasurable life, he will protect it and keep it in any way he can.

I'm also thinking… Astarion can ridicule and flips any reasoning about morality, principles, rightness, he doesn't really care, the main thing is to achieve whatever he wants. That's what he did when he was a magistrate.

So I'm closer to the idea that he was the golden boy.

Speaking of the Magistrate. One - something made him choose a good career about money and power. Perhaps something unpleasant, tragic. Two - variant he just realized by watching society that this is what you should strive. Reason was very petty, like he felt gOLd embroidered gloves were worth quite a lot. He didn't like the thought of counting gold. And his personality. It's useful and fun. Wearing poor or even average clothes and not eating delicious food - sucks. Three is a combination Lately we have been looking for reasons in the actions of the villain, psychological, subtle reasons - it was not bad, as long as it comes to the point that the more reasons the less he is a villain and just a “victim of circumstances”, it is already a tired concept for me. It's much more interesting when the reasons are there, but there is a distinct decision by the individual, where he clearly understands what and how would be right, but chooses wrongly. Astarion chooses the immoral path, he prefers it that way.

Why the Magistrate and not, shall we say, a merchant, a shipbuilder. Because the magistrate can tax everyone. To neatly circumvent the law, you have to know perfectly well how it works. :D Interesting, he loves Baldur's Gate, he's fascinated that this city is so great, a city of opportunity, he said. When he becomes Lord, he wants to rule it, or rather will do so again, in a higher status, a tiny pause of 200 years. He loves the heartbeat of this city.

There are other options, but here's how Astarion sees the city, a heart to bite into. Hot. In talking to the dead "that he was going to do as Lord" - rule and be free. Dead men don't lie. He wants to rule.

Could this be a reference to raw ambition and a desire to rule that he's had in the past? Probably. However, he said that there are many other cities in the world, perhaps this is a trick for Wyll.

But he could really easily leave the city with Tav\DU. So even ruling the city isn't his main idea. It's enjoyable, but there are other fun things too. The idea was to turn into a bat, evidently. And do:

Success. One more a constant thought: The choice to become a Magistrate was his willful decision. Astarion was looking for more power and a place at the ruler of the city. Only later did he find out it was boring quite a bit XD But the perspective of the place and what it gave and could give was very pleasing to him.

Speaking of family. For the full picture, it's worth looking at something I haven't done yet - how the High Elves settle into cities where races that live faster, and what that means for the elf family. There are options: either he had a family or barely had one. There are several other branches from that, the family's attitude towards him, what happened to them.

• If there was a family

A respectable family, who easily got everything he wanted. Probably started demanding too much. (Mommy may I?) I headcanon that his family may have been impoverished because of their honesty and lack of ambition. But not much, they still had status. Yet Astarion was affected, “money can run out, it's amazing”. It may have sparked his interest in power.

★ Astarion was adored by his parents.

He was cared for and protected. Perhaps nurturing in him an attitude towards other people, especially the poor "I'm better, my family is better, others don't matter". By guarding him, they could say: "Don't think of running outside the upper city, it's all muck". With a family like that not caring for the grave, I can explain it this way: - His parents was killed before he died. Maybe criminals, maybe a fire. He was left alone. - His parents died after he died. - His parents were so heartbroken that they left Baldur's Gate forever

☆ The other option is his parents didn't really care.

There are so many ways in which that could be. I prefer that they were nobles who disappeared at balls, loved their son, but did not know how to care and teach him, all this was done by servants and his friends such as children of noble. Here heartbreak works too and leaving town. They thought they had plenty of time...

○ If Astarion had no family.

Astarion still had status and probably a guardian who almost didn't raise Astarion. Astarion had his looks, money, and the society of the golden youth. (Corrupt nobility). I pay less attention to this option, but I like it just as much. It's a simple option, but that's the point. As in the case of the family that didn't care, Astarion raised himself, among children who had everything.

Speaking of personality. I also believe that Astarion has an inner desire to reach for "debauchery and darkness". Which is consistent with the idea – dark&fun. It's his core to be himself. As an example, he would steal when he had a lot of money, just for fun to cheat some clunky merchant and watch him red-faced. quite the rogue He was very mischievous. As he got older, his mischief became... well decadence level.

I think I've written a lot.

That's not all I think about this. But it's almost all I've found words for at the moment. The important thing is that my thoughts may change in some details. Especially since we're going to have a new artbook and what will Larian write in it? That could affect it, too. I've outlined the constants and the things I like about this story.

Thank you for your attention All the best.

[romanarose]

Awakened: Part One (Getting Started)

Santiago Garcia X reader X Benny Miller X Frankie Morales X Benny Miller

Takes place after Prelude: This better not awaken anything in me

Part 2 here

Masterlist

Summary: Santi discusses things with the guys, everyone is in. Group sex insues

WARNINGS: Okay. group sexual activity. IDK how to tag this but Ben and Will are brothers and they are gonna be naked fucking the same girl, but explicitly doing things to keep separate. Fingerings, handjobs, uuuuhhhh gay shit, bisexual Benny Miller, Bisexual Frankie Morales, Santi tbd we'll have to see next chapter

A/N: gonna have to be part three bc this went on forever lol

***************

Ah, the duality of man. A few nights ago, Santiago Garcia had you face down, ass up, being shoved into the matress as he fucked you so hard you were sure you’re guts were being rearranged. Last night he edged you for nearly an hour when he roughly ate you, not allowing you to come until you said you wanted to be fucked in every hole by his 3 best friends. Tonight? Tonight he had carried you from you were falling asleep watching Pride and Prejudice (again), laid you down on his soft bed, coaxed 2 orgasms out of you with his mouth on your clit and a fingers in your ass and cunt. He was taking his time now, body encasing yours as you writhed beneath him, the slow drag of his cock through your channel as he explored your mouth and neck having you close to coming a third time.

Santi always tried to make sure to do this, to balance out the rough sex with the soft, passionate; he knew he could easily get you off either way. Santi watched your body reacting beneath him, pulling away only long enough to smile at your pretty face, then going back to sucking hickies into your skin. He always took care of you, he was the king of after care. As Santi felt your soft skin, sliding a hand under your ass, caressing it instead of hitting it. He wanted to give you a little rest, as much as you said you could take it. He knew you could, he knew you’d do anything to please him, but that’s why his job was to watch out for you. It was his job to make sure you are comfortable and feel safe, it’s his job to allow you to be able to communicate your needs, and it’s his job to stop if he feels you’re too far into subspace to make proper choices for yourself. 

Santiago just wanted to take care of you. So he always made sure to take his time for nights like this, nights where he just appreciated you and your body, nights where he just wanted to thank you for being you. Of course, then there was the fact you were going to get fucked senseless by the men he considered brothers while he watched. Pope thought you needed a break before that.

Will choked on his beer.

Frankie’s eyes bugged out.

Benny was grinning.

Theres no easy way to ask your friends if they want to have group sex with your wife. Santi had just gone for it. 

“Like… all of us?” Fish asked. “Have you guys even had a threesome before?”

Benny chimed in. “If you guys are looking to start there, I volunteer”

Will rolled his eyes.

Santi ignored that, answering Frankie. “I mean yeah, she has three holes, doesn’t she?”

“Jesus Christ…” Will muttered, never a fan of being crass and chugging his beer until it completely disappeared. “Where does that leave you then Pope?”

“Watching.” He smiled. “Making sure she’s okay and everyone is good.”

“Awwwww” Benny teased, poking Santi’s cheek. “You gonna be my soft daddy dom?”

Santi smacked his hand away. “I’m not gonna be shit if you keep acting like that, pendejo”

“Oooohhh, getting started already” Benny laughed, before smacking his hands together, a wide smile on his face. “Well, I’m in”

Santi smiled. He knew Benny would be raring to go. Fish would act apprehensive, but he’d seen the way he looked at you in that sundress last week. Will would be apprehensive. He hadn’t done anything like this as far as Santi knew, but he had tried and failed to hide his erection at the beach trip, and the two of you had grown rather attached. Santi had, in fact, heard you moan Will name in your sleep last month, and rather than feeling jealous, made Santi rock fucking hard, waking you up to fuck you to the thought of Will inside you.

“Frankie?” Santi asked, looking over his glass.

Frankie considered for a moment, glancing at Ben who was nodding, hoping his threesome counterpart would say yes. “Yeah, I’m in ”

Everyone turned to Will, who looked back and forth between the three of them. “You know Pope, the last time you gathered all of us for a mission we agreed to, one of us ended up dead” He said straight faced.

Benny snorted out a laugh he tried to stifle, Frankie covered his smile with a hand, and Santi made the peak ‘white people face’ at Will’s dark joke.

“Fuck it, if I’m going to die, it might as well be between her legs, I’m in.” Will replied with a smile”

“FUCK YEAH!” Ben cheered, ordering a round of shots.

“No pussy/ass action with Ben and I” He asserted over the guys whoops. ‘I’m not touching his dick“

The guys discussed the, admittedly, very limited rules in addition to Will and Benny’s. Santi relayed the rule he had discussed with you. Spanking, hitting, slapping was all more than okay. You requested no one but Santi to choke you. Spitting was okay but not in the mouth. Frankie wouldn’t do any hitting, and Santi requested nothing that left a mark (hard slapping, hickies, bites, etc. Only he got to mark you.) They all had even gone over the very unsexy stuff, like agreeing to STD and covid tests beforehand, Santi would have plenty of lube, and although condoms weren’t required by you or Santi, they would be on hand for anyone's comfort levels.

“Everyone said yes,” Santi whispered in your ear, feeling you clench around him at the mere thought.

“Even Will?” you pant out, even though Santi is taking it easy on you today, his throbbing member continues to fuck you breathless.

“Mhm” Santi continues kissing you. “I know he’s your favorite”

“They’re all my favorite”

 He hitched a leg around his waist, hitting deeper as he picked up pace. “I thought I was your favorite, Carino”

“Mmmm AHH, fuck, shit Santi” You cry out before regraining your composure. “You’re in the top”

That makes Santi giggle, grinning at you as if he wasn’t balls deep inside. “Do I at least outrank Tom?”

“Your dead friend I never met?” You pretend to consider for a moment. “Yes, but you’re on thin ice”

“Good” Santi sucks hard on your neck, marking you as his. “Wouldn’t have let him touch you anyway. Now, I want you to come for me baby, can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy” You wrap your legs around him, ankles digging into his lower back as you feel his balls smack against your ass. His hand massages your breast, causing you to spill over, cunt tightening to draw out his own orgasm.

“Fuck baby” He breaths out, collapsing on top of you. He moves to roll off, but you hold onto him, loving the feeling of his full weight on you and his cock buried inside your warmths.

“Can we stay like this for a bit?” You ask, rubbing his neck and shoulders. 

“Of course, how could I ever say no to staying this close?” The two of you continued to kiss languidly, enjoying the lazy evening together, just kissing, touching, feelings, existing in each others presence. After a while, however, Santi kissed your forehead, sliding out of you and you felt his cum begin to leak out. “As much as I love this, you should probably use the bathroom before we fall asleep, don’t want you getting a UTI”

You groan like a disgruntled teenager, but roll off the bed and hobble to the connected bathroom, cleaning yourself off and brushing your teeth before coming back to bed, finding Santi walking back in with a cup of camomile tea. He let you get settled in bed with one of his shirts and a pair of Jurassic Park boxers you stole from him months ago after gently teasing him, then handed the warm mug to you before climbing into bed with you. “The guys are coming over for the game tomorrow” he said. “I don’t know how someone exactly starts a gang bang-”

“Ew!” You smack his arm with no real malice. “Don’t call it that!” You chuckle out with a cringe.

Santi laughed, a little snort as he crinkled up his face. “Why not? It’s what it is”

“Can’t we just call it an orgy?” 

“I mean, we could, but I think orgies are more of multiple sexual acts at once. Benny’s not sticking his dick in my ass, as much as he might want too.”

You laugh at that, but continue, shaking your head. “Don’t like it. Makes me feel like I’m just being used. That’s not what I want.”

Santi kissed the side of your head. “No, no that’s not what we want either, sweetheart. We want to take care of you.”

There’s no way to initiate group without a bit of awkwardness. The game had ended, and everyone had hung around afterwards, thank god. Santi knew better than to try to interrupt a game. Benny would be gung-ho, but Will could be right next to him and you fucking on the couch, and yell at you two to keep it down so he could hear the commentary. Only thing to do was just start. You were sitting on his lap at the end of the couch, Benny in the middle and Frankie on the end, Will on the recliner. Santi let his hand wander; over your stomach, your side, and slipped up to grope your breasts, making you grasp and initially look at Santi with shock, before you remembered oh yeah, that. 

“Oh fuck…” Benny muttered as he took notice of Santi putting his hands down your shorts as he kissed you. You focused on Santi, closing your eyes and tasting his lips. You still wanted this, you were just nervous for his friends to see you like this, and you knew Santi would ease you into it. For right now, you kissed Santi like you normally would, aware of the eyes on you. Santiago began slowly fingering you.

“Benny, you wanna take her shorts off?” Santi offered.

Frankie got up to stand on the other side of the couch, playing with your hair and stroking your face as Benny’s fingers trailed around your waistband, warm fingers skimming your skin as he asked for permission. You break away from Santi’s lips to smile at him and nod. Benny grins back, slipped down your shorts and muttering curses as he spread your legs open, dripping wet. “Fuck, sweetie” Benny glanced over at a nervous Will on the chair “You see that? She’s fucking soaked already”

Your eyes connected with Will’s piercing blues, the desire in him evident, but unsure how to proceed. You briefly think you should’ve started with just Will, since Benny and Frankie had experience with this already, but you had wanted them all so badly… Your breath hitched as you feel Benny’s fingers at your entrance. “May I?” he asks for your consent. This is the first person who will have been inside you other than your fingers and Santi in years, so you check with your husband once more time and you’re laying in his arms. Receiving a smile, you turn to Ben and give him a breathy “yeah”

Benny groans as he slides into you, the velvet of you welcoming him. “God baby…, shit” His fingers are longer than Santi’s, reaching further but curling in when he finds that spot that makes you jolt. Frankie turns you to him, Sant’s hand supporting your neck as you writhe in his lap, and you open your mouth to kiss your husband's best friend.

Frankie kisses slow, his mouth opening wide and wet to eat you alive, a soul consuming kiss before he pulls away to watch Santi’s hand on your breasts and Benny’s fingers inside you. “Doing so good, muñeca” Frankie praises. “Can’t wait to see how good you take my cock, pretty girl”

You preen for him, chasing his mouth for more kisses as Benny and Santi’s hands build you up. You lock eyes with Will again, right as the coil in your stomach is tightening, and you know what you want. You’re nervous, you don’t want to reject the others, you aren’t rejecting them. You want them too, but first, you need Will to join. You know Benny cares more about your needs and comfort than his own wants, so you gently push his hand out of you and he pulls back. “Will?” You say, his eyes widening and lips parting. “Wanna taste me?”

For a moment, he was too stunned to speak. He had hardly been able to believe this was happening; the amount of times he had jerked himself off to the thought of you, only to find himself ridden with shame… You were unavailable, surely, he thought you’d be disgusted at being sexualized by him, your husband's friend, no less. And yet, here you were, all laid out in front of him, in the arms of Frankie and his brother, and he couldn’t make himself move. Until, that is, you beckoned him. After a brief pause, he practically scrambles off the chair, as Santi lifts you up and into Benny’s arms. Benny places you between his legs, stripping off your shirt and his, leaving you completely bare. You barely registered Santi and Fish switching, Santi moving behind you on the couch, keeping a watchful eye on everyone particularly you. Frankie stripped off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, his erection painfully hard, but free from the tight constraint of jeans.

Will knelt before you, gazing up at you like you were a goddess, begging for your blessing. You carded your fingers through his hair, then pulled him close, encouraging him that yes, it’s okay, touch me, taste me, feel me. And god, did he. Like a man starved, Will Miller devoured the meal in front of him, putting two fingers inside you as he licked and sucked, his lips practically inhaling you. This is why they call it eating pussy. You whine for him, Benny’s hands were all over you, massaging and groping and just basking in you, lips pressing kissing into your neck and hair as you sat between his long legs, still covered in jeans, remembering Santi’s no marking rule. You feel him lick a long strip over the line of hickies Santi left on you earlier, a primal claim to his territory for the night, with out encroaching on Santi’s lasting hold. 

“So responsive, making those pretty little sounds“ Benny purrs in your ears, his breath hot on your neck.

When Frankie leaned over to suck on your breasts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh and decide to give him some relief as fresh gush of wetness flowed to Will’s face, making you pant as he continued tongue fucking you like it was his fucking job. You pull Frankies length out of his boxers and- jesus fucking christ he was big, how is that suppossed to fit? Undeterred, you spit into your hand and begin jerking him and you near your climax again, gentle moans escaping your mouth as your body chased their touches.

“Mierda, Pope, you’ve been holding out on us” Frankie gasped, doing his best to keep working you as you ran your hand along him. 

Santi crossed the couch, eyeing you with a smile. He’d get himself off, jerk off near the end after edging himself the whole time, but for now he was watching, keeping careful track of your body language, and glancing at his friends, making sure everything is going as planned.

“How you feeling baby?” He asks, watching Benny and Frankies arms ravishing you as you spread yourself for Will. God, you were a sight.

“Great, c’mere?” You beckon him to the couch, and he obliges, gently caressing your face as he kisses you, then turns to watch Will continue to lick into your folds, face growing wetter by the second as you neared your edge. 

Santi trailed his fingertips down your bare front, making you shiver before he startled circling your clit while Will nips and sucked and shoved his tongue and fingers impossibly deep inside you, strong arms lifting your ass, tilting you to him so he can drink you up. You can feel Benny’s erection proding against your lower back and ass, he practically whimpers as your body wriggles in his arms at a particular combination of Will’s fingers and tongue. Santi’s fingers explored your center, allowing Will access wherever he needed to work his magic. Word on the street was that William John Miller is a pussy eating champ. He tried to work his way around you without getting in Will’s way, but Will just went for it, whether or not his fingers were in the way, and Santi could only admit to himself he liked the way it felt. 

Benny’s fingers, however, had found your mouth, starting with two, allowing your tongue to swirl around, giving a taste of what it can do before putting all four in. Your mouth spread to take him all, and he pumped in and out sloppily, Benny groaning at the feeling. “Can’t wait to see what that pretty little mouth feels like around my cock baby” He adds his thumb, and you aren’t sure how long you and take it

Frankie chimes in “You gonna take him in your mouth baby? Let him fuck your throat while your husband watches, muñeca?”

You hear Santi and press harder onto your clit.

All you can manage is a muffled. ‘Mhm’ with Benny’s hand causing you to drool down your chin.

“Gonna let us fill you up, pretty girl? Stuff you ful of our cocks, while Pope fists himself, wishing it were him inside you?” He kissed your spit covered neck. “Gonna treat you so good, pretty little thing, gonna stretch you out so good you’ll always need two dicks inside you just to feel full enough again.” Frankie kissed the corner of your stretched open mouth, licking Benny’s finger pumping in and out of you.

You were almost there. So fucking close, but between the tightening feeling in your lower stomach and Benny fisting your mouth, breathing is becoming difficult. Santi must have noticed you attempted to get air and the tears starting to water..

“Ben…” he warns, and Benny’s hands are removed from your mouth. Santi takes out the chapstick he always keeps in his pocket, applying it to your stretched out lips and giving you a kiss as you gasped for breath. “Good job baby, you’re doing so good.”

Benny took his wet hand, joining it with yours and wrapping it around Frankies cock, pumping it with you. “You ready, baby?”

“Uh-uh” You whimper out, barely able to hold it back.

“Come for us, baby, wanna feel your body when you come on Will’s face.”

Will’s eyes flick up at that, glancing to Ben but landing on you. That was all you needed. With the hands and lips of the four men you love, albeit in different ways, your body wracked with an orgasm as the coil finally snapped.

“Will!” You cry out before all thoughts become incoherent, your mouth a mess of babbling and moans.

 You can register Benny’s arms wrapped around you, keeping you from falling off the couch, Frankie kissing your neck and breasts, Santi holding your head to keep it from hitting Ben’s while you tossed, whispering praises as drinks every last drop, prolonging your orgasm with every flick of his tongue.

When you come down, Frankies come is on yours and Benny’s hands, unable to hold back his own release as he watched you thrash in one Miller’s arms, coming on the other Miller's face.

Happy with his work, Will sat back, a satisfied grin on his cum soaked face, making him look significantly younger. “Fucking amazing.”

Benny hums in affirmation as he kisses into your hair. “You sound so pretty when you come, honey” He brings brings his hand to his mouth, licking it clean, muttering to Frankie about how good he tastes, and Will climbs his way up to you, “I could say the same thing about you, sweetness. See for yourself.” you tasted yourself on his god, he was right. He sunk back down on his knees before you, hands rubbing up and down your legs, feeling your soft skin as he gazed at your in adoration.

Still panting, you feel Santi’s hand on yours, drawing it to his mouth, large brown eyes on you as his skillful tongue licks it clean of Frankies spend. Well that was an interesting turn. When he was done, Santiago kissed hickey into your neck as a show of dominance, marking his property, making sure they all knew no matter what happened next, you were his.

“You did great sweetheart, I’m so proud of you” he planted soft kisses all around your face, so fluttering that you giggled as Benny rubbed your arms, confirming the compliments Santi powered upon the skin he kissed. “Always so good to me, such a good, girl, so fucking beautiful. Pretty baby takes care of me, takes care of my friends.” A kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to keep going, baby? Or was that enough?” Santi checked in before continuing anything else. Brain still whirling, you were trying to make the ‘yes’ come from your brain to your mouth.

You felt Benny’s lips brush against your neck. “We can stop, we don’t have to keep going if you’re having second thoughts”

Will squeezed at your ankles. “That was everything I dreamed of, Sweetness, it’s okay if you want to back out.”

Frankie grabbed a throw blanket that was draped over the couch, covering your front. “Well, I got off, so I’m good” He joked, chuckling a bit before planting a kiss on cheek. “But seriously, Muñeca, you-”

“Guys” you cut him off with a laugh, looking around at Santi, Will and Frankie, and reaching back to caress Benny’s softly stubbled face. ”I appreciate you all reassuring me, but after an orgasm like that, I’m going to need to catch my breath” You turn to Santi’s kind, smiling face. “I want to keep going”

Santiago Garcia grinned ear to ear. He turn to Frankie “Fish?”

“Give me a few minuets and I’ll be ready for round two” he half bragged

“Ben?”

Benny brushed your hair to one side, smelling your shampoo “How could I ever say no to the chance to touch her?”

“Ironhead?”

Will looked up at Santi with a cheeky grin “Well someones gotta get on their knees for her, your busted ass knees wouldn’t be able to get back up.” Will crawled his way but up to you, kissing your pretty lips as he pulled you to stand up with him, Benny, Frankie and Pope taking the chance to look at your ass.

“FUCK YYEEAHH!!” Benny stood up, scrambling off to where he knew Santi’s room was, nearly tripping as he tried to kick off his pants

Frankie quickly followed with a trail of “WOOP!”’s, yelping as he hit his hip on the counter when he tried to strip off his shirt, the clothe briefly blinding him.

Santi stood up, smacking your bare as as you stood in Will’s arms “I’ll give you two lovebirds a minuet“ he winked, knowing damn well he was the only one you loved.

You look up to Will, taking a moment to kiss him deeply. “Shall we?”

“We shall” With that, William Miller scooped your naked body up in his arms as your wrapped your legs and arms around him, and he carried to into the bedroom to start get fucked into the mattress by three men while your husband watched.

************

PLEASE REBLOG!!!!!!!!! Ima need this one to get 100 notes if you want full sex bc this sht IS HARD TO WRITE

While I'm here ima self promo, if you love moon knight come read Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: 31 out of 33 chapters are out, almost to the end! Angst, hurt, comfort, smut, fluff! If you're looking for something focused around depression, trauma and healing, this is it. v bingable from what I hear.

tagging everyone who reblogged the first one, but please comment if you want to be tagged in part 3! PLEASE COMMENT EVEN IF YOU REBLOG IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED bc im stupid and I'll lose track lol.

lmk if I missed any warnings or anything! Remeber kids, after sex talk and checking in always v important!

@kittyofalltrades @bit-dodgy-innit @milkymoon2483 @lucianadraven32 @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cocodiem @in-between-the-cafes @imwaytooobsessedwithpedro @twistedboxy @juneknight @angelbabyyy99 @marshmallow--3 @ahookedheroespureheart @kandik @moonknightly @storyarcscribe @itspdameronthings @lou-la-lou

[unicorn-academy-brainrot]

Layla/Rory Fan Fic Teaser

Okay idk I started writing this on my morning commute a few weeks ago inspired by an art request but I'm not sure how I'm feeling about it?? I would like to finish it on ao3 but we'll seeeeee

----

“Let’s make this easy for everyone. Ava and Sophia, Valentina and Isabel, and Layla and Rory,” Ms. Wildwood announced, perched on top of Rush. “You have the rest of the afternoon to explore the island together, and I expect a report on how you helped your partner bond more with their unicorn by the end of the week!”

All the students in sapphire dorm were assembled in a semi circle around Ms Wildwood, all standing beside their respective unicorns, just outside the stables. Ava and Sophia clinked their friendship bracelets together, and Valentina and Isabel tried unsuccessfully to feign annoyance. Rory playfully elbowed Layla with a wink.

“Partners, eh?” he teased.

Layla tried to smile back, but she felt a pit in her stomach forming. Rory wasn’t exactly the studious type, and a report? She doubted he would take it seriously, and Layla was, well, not exactly the most knowledgeable about unicorn riding either. How could she help Rory when she struggled so much with Glacier herself? The thought of having to work together with him filled her with dread and sent her thoughts racing. She could feel her nails digging into her palm. What if she failed the report? What if she couldn’t help him with Storm? What if Rory’s lack of work ethic made them both fail? What if this meant she got sent home? What would her parents think if she got expelled? What if she-

Layla felt a warmth around her shoulders and the smell of cologne. She became acutely aware that this sudden warmth was actually Rory’s arm around her and her stomach dropped. Her head spun around only to meet Rory’s gaze, uncomfortably close to her face.

“Relax, Layla! I know what you’re thinking but we’re gonna rock this!” Rory beamed at her. She stared for a moment blankly, taking in his sincere smile and warm embrace. Her heart skipped a beat, she never noticed how handsome his boyish features were. But so what? There were much more pressing matters at hand. She pushed the feeling down sharply.

“I’m not so sure,” Layla snapped, stepping away quickly, shrugging his arm off her shoulders. “Are you sure you’ll take this seriously, Rory?” She started back towards the stables, Glacier in tow. Glacier and Storm exchanged an amused glance.

“Come on, Layla, when have I ever let you down?” Rory called after her, lazily sauntering behind. Storm rolled her eyes, nudging him along with her muzzle.

“Uh, are you kidding Rory?” Isabel interrupted. “Didn’t you spill chocolate milk on her homework like, last week?”

“So much chocolatey deliciousness…” Rory sighed to himself. Layla could feel herself prickling. She had easily copied her homework to a fresh sheet of lined paper but she was not exactly thrilled at the memory of how careless Rory had been.

“If you take up any of me and Layla’s study time, you are SO dead,” Valentina snapped. “Layla was late to the last two seshes because she was too busy helping YOU with things you would have known if you had paid attention in class!”

“If he had even shown up to class,” Sophia chirped. “You DO skip a lot, even by my standards!”

Isabel, Ava and Sophia broke out in guilty giggles; they found satisfaction in everyone calling out Rory. It was true, he leaned far too heavily on Layla’s generosity. Layla couldn’t help herself though, she was far too passionate and her memory too sharp to resist the temptation to infodump on him if he asked. But all the poking fun was too much for Layla. She stalked ahead, trying to hide her face in Glacier’s mane. All the teasing had only confirmed to her that she was doomed to fail as long as she was paired with him. How was she going to survive a full week partnered with him for an assignment so important?

[beenbaanbuun]

blood w/ poly!ateez

so i feel so sane about this�� definitely no evil thoughts filling up my brain right now. none whatsoever :)

i want to write so much more about this universe and i’m literally sending the biggest kiss ever to @ateez-main-yapper to requesting this because i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life!

words - idk

genre - smut, horror (there’s a bit of gore i guess)

warnings - vampire!ateez, mafia!ateez, human!reader, smuggler!reader, blood, scarification, collars, ownership, blood, surgery mentions, nicknames (little mouse, princess, sweetheart), dancer!yeosang, security guard!mingi, ripper!doctor!yunho, mommy!seonghwa (don’t look at me like that, i had to), hand kink (mentioned), no actual sex but it’s talked about a lot, hair pulling, i think that’s all??

——————————————————————————

the scent of stale blood haunts the hallway you find yourself walking down, clinging to the back of your throat until yourself gagging on it. no matter how many times you find yourself down here, it never gets any easier to cope with; even a slaughterhouse would be more pleasant than this.

it begs the question why you’re back. by now, you’ve bled them of enough money to never have to work again, so it’s certainly not the pay. the job itself is harder than most, and not at all rewarding when you have to lie and cheat your way into success. there’s no doubt that the stress of hiding a smuggling operation behind the guise of a blood donation clinic has taken a good 20 years of your life from you. you can guarantee that job satisfaction isn’t what’s keeping you here either.

it’s only when you turn a corner and your eyes land upon them that you remember exactly why you’re still so willing to walk these halls. it isn’t something keeping you here but rather someone; multiple someones, in fact.

“mingi!” your footsteps quicken as you get closer the security guard that stands waiting outside of a heavy metal door. despite the fact that you’ve been on the other side of it multiple times, it still sends a shiver of curiosity down your spine. it’s not an anxious curiosity as it was when you first landed yourself in this position, but more of a morbid one. you know the horrors that lie behind it, you’ve experienced a few of them too, yet you still yearn to see more. “long time no see,” you offer a polite smile once you’re close enough to lower your volume from a shout, “san told me hongjoong had assigned you to pest control. is it not going well?”

mingi gives you a slow blink, his jaw set in stone and his eyes steely as he stares you down. he’s always looked far more intimidating than he actually is, although you suppose it serves to his benefit when his main job it scaring away anyone who might wish to disturb the peace. you’re only grateful to have had the chance to see behind the mask he wears; to watch his eyes melt and his lips part in the wonky grin he gets so little time to wear.

“you’ve not seen me in months and the first thing you ask me is about my demotion back to security?” he quirks a brow at you and you have to bite back your grin. in truth, you’d heard all about it from seonghwa over the past few weeks, your main contact within the clan more than happy to share life details with you as though you’re a lifelong friend rather than a mere employee. their favourite employee, sure, but still at the bottom of the pecking order.

“i just wanted to know more,” you lift your arms in defence, not missing the way his eyes flicker to the bandage on your left forearm, “like you said, it’s been a while.”

mingi hums in agreement as he examines the clean cloth. a long finger reaches out to trace the spot where the fabric meets your skin, the touch lingering and soft. it’s more the real mingi than it is the security guard mingi; it warms your heart to see.

“when did this happen?” he whispers, voice barely above a whisper.

“about two weeks ago,” you i pull your wrist back, letting mingi’s hand drop back down to his side, “hongjoong wanted to approach me about it, but i didn’t take much convincing,” actually, it was you who approached him but for some reason that’s much harder to admit, “you guys are much… kinder to me than the other clans i supply, well, supplied to. it was a no brainer to ditch them when given the chance.”

“so you’re ours?” he asks, voice dipping a little too low for the question to be purely innocent.

“i’m mine,” you confirm, “what i supply, however, is all yours.”

there’s a smirk on his lips, not as easily defeated by your sense of self worth as you’d like him to be. he knows as well as the rest of them what the mark on your arm means, after all. he knows as well as you do that there’s no getting away from them now. the moment yunho took his sweet, sadistic time carving their mark into your body it wasn’t just your business that belonged to them.

“sure you are, little mouse,” he whispers as he leans in close, his icy breath fluttering against your face. your stomach drops but you choose to ignore it. this was your decision, after all, “now, scurry along; you wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”

with the flip of a switch, the metal door clicks open and your immediately met with a blast of cool air and a wall of sound. you’ll never understand the clan’s need for these constant frivolities, especially when you’re on the other side of this getting your hands dirty, but you suppose it is a good way to hide their more secretive operations. no one is going to notice the door in the corner when there’s so much going on out here, right? it’s an extra layer of security, and a darn good one at that.

when you step inside, the door clicks shut behind you and you immediately get to scanning the crowd of partygoers for a familiar face. amongst the hoard of vampires, they’re harder to spot, their ashy skin and red eyes sticking out a lot less than they would next to a human. instead you look for a familiar hair colour, recalling the angry text you got from seonghwa about the den’s main bathroom turning pink with hongjoong’s hairdye. nothing sticks out at you, though, and so you’re back at square one.

your arms stretch out before you as you go to push through the crowd. it’s moments like this that you’re glad for the metal, almost collar-like band around your neck. yeosang had created it as a way to keep your pulse hidden from any less-well-meaning vampires. he’d insisted that the tag dangling from it with the clan’s emblem engraved was all hongjoong’s idea, but you recognise the same possessive glint in all of their eyes. it’s the same one yunho had given you when engraving that very emblem into your body, and the same one san had given to you when wrapping your bleeding arm up in a fluffy white bandage. yeosang is just like the rest of them, even behind his sweet exterior.

but right now he isn’t crafting some marvel of engineering out of metal scraps and a dream, but instead on the stage at the front of the room. it’s not often he’s up there instead of one of the others, but as you watch him elegantly dangle from a hoop that hangs from the ceiling, you find it hard to see why. he’s utterly ethereal, like a butterfly about to emerge from a chrysalis; one of those blue ones with the wings that seemed designed to capture your attention with their beauty. you’re entranced, much more so than the rest of the party-goers who seem to have grown blind to the creature moving elegantly before them.

his body moves not at all like a butterfly though, instead flowing smoothly like a viper along the branch of a tree. he extends his arms in such a way you’ve never seen before, silken and smooth as he reaches out to his audience. it pulls you in further, your feet shuffling as you push through the final layer of people to get to the stage. you stumble forwards, catching yourself on the edge of the raised platform. if he notices you there, he doesn’t show it; the stoic expression he wears remains steady as he gracefully shifts his body into yet another position.

you watch him like that until the end of his performance, unblinking with your lips parted in awe. even the way he tumbles to the floor and bows to an uninterested audience holds so much more grace than you think you will ever possess. to think that this is the man that spends half of his time smeared in motor oil with a puppy-like grin on his lips is strange, yet it feels so right.

“hello, little mouse,” he echoes the familiar nickname as he makes his way to the front of the stage, crouching down in front of you and running an all-too-confident finger along your jawline to your chin. he snaps your mouth shut in a way that is so far from the yeosang you know that part of you believes this must be his much cockier twin. “hongjoong is out tonight; some trouble on south side caught his attention so he wanted to clean up the mess before the police got there.”

“i’m meeting with seonghwa then?” you murmur, too starstruck for your mouth the form words properly.

yeosang shakes his head.

“seonghwa and san went with him,” the finger from your chin shifts down to the piece of jewellery that fits snug around your neck. his touch catches against the tag, the jingling sound reminding you of a bell on a cats collar. you try to ignore the smirk that rises to his face as sees you make the connection, instead shifting your gaze to the pendant around his neck that shares the same symbol. “yunho is busy with whatever sick shit gets him off, me and mingi are working which means…”

fuck.

“jongho and wooyoung.”

“clever mouse,” yeosang’s tone is venomous, despite his words being soft. clearly performing does something to his ego; inflates it until every sign of the sweet mechanic is hidden behind a thick shroud of confidence. it’s deliciously cruel, mirroring the sick sadism of yunho or the vast overconfidence of mingi, and holy fuck do you want a taste. perhaps later, once business is over.

if business is over.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about those two, though,” he continues, tugging on the tag of your collar—because despite your pride, even you have to admit that there’s no other way to describe it—until you’re face is merely inches from his own, “hongjoong promised yunho their balls if they can’t learn to control them. maybe you’ll finally be able to have a meeting with them before getting your pussy stuffed, hm?”

you feel yourself getting warmer, your face flushing as yeosang so blatantly talks about your track record with the pair of resident trouble makers. it’s not like you’ve let slip about all the times jongho’s had you sitting on his cock with your mouth wrapped around wooyoung’s the second you step into their office which means that they must have instead. it makes you wonder what they talk about whenever you’re not here, and how much each of them know about your less than professional escapades with each of them. it’s a troubling thought, and yet it’s still manages to light a fire deep in your belly.

“see you later, yeosang,” is the only thing you can mumble in response as you pull away from his touch, the tag of the collar bumping gently against your neck as it slips free of his fingers.

——————-

“you told the others about fucking me?” you scoff as you barge your way into the office where the two youngest vampires await your arrival. it’s nice to see them here already, since they usually arrive far later than the agreed upon time. although, you suppose with the delays of mingi and yeosang, you’re also late on this occasion. you let the passive-aggressive comment about time keeping slide, knowing it won’t help you right now.

“hello to you too, mousy,” wooyoung hums from where he lays on the green sofa in the corner of the room, “it’s nice to see you again! we’re doing wonderfully, by the way; thanks for a—”

you let the door slam behind you as you storm your way towards him, completely ignoring the curious gaze of jongho.

“cut the shit, wooyoung,” you grab hold of his shirt collar and lean in close. it’s supposed to be intimidating but the wide grin on his lips lets you know otherwise. “you’ve all been talking about me when i’m not here? what the fuck, man!”

wooyoung chuckles in your face, his dangerous fangs glinting beneath the overhead lights. you know he’d never bite without your permission—people have been killed by hongjoong for much less—but it still sends a shiver through you whenever you see them.

“you’re not exactly discrete yourself, princess,” the office chair creaks as jongho stands, making his way around his desk and towards you. although you keep your gaze firmly on the little rat who still sits giggling to himself, you can’t help but be hyper aware of the presence behind you. a large hand traces its way up your spine, not stopping until you feel his fingers lace themselves with your locks and tug. your grip fall limply from wooyoung’s shirt as you’re hauled back into the soft muscle of jongho’s chest, your neck craned awkwardly over his shoulder to keep you in place. “what do you want us to say when san is asking about who’s cum he’s eaten from your pussy? do you want us to lie to them?”

you squirm, wincing when his grip on your hair doesn’t loosen despite your attempts to break free. they call you little mouse and right now, you really do feel the part—you walked right into a trap of which there’s no way out.

“maybe i should let you fuck me again just so i can watch when yunho rips your fucking balls off your body!” you grunt through gritted teeth.

jongho hums in amusement, “it was hyperbole, sweetheart,” a pair of cold lips meet the hot skin of your cheek for just a second before pulling away, the softness a stark contrast to the harsh grip he still has you in, “he doesn’t care how much we fuck you as long as we get the job done. after all, he’d be a hypocrite to complain about us fucking you when his dick is inside of you twice as often, hm?”

you watch with cautious eyes as wooyoung stands from his place on the sofa, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat. it reeks of danger, yet you’ve never been the type to give into that sort of thing. you’re a human working for a bunch of vampires; danger is just a regular part of your life at this point.

“besides, mousy,” the cheshire cat purrs, “you think we’re the only ones who talk? you don’t think we know just how much you love calling seonghwa mommy when you ride him? or how much you love it when yeosang spits in your mouth whenever he’s fucking you dumb?” wooyoung brings a hand to your cheek, dusting over your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re ours, little mouse; we can talk if we want.”

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey Is: Chapter Ten: I Hate That You're Right

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

‘We’re heading back now. See you in a few hours,’ Gordon’s text read when Benrey returned to his phone post indulging in a hot shower. It was dated twenty minutes ago so that ‘few hours’ still stood as a long time. But at least when he did finally get here, Benrey would have someone to play games with again.

‘k’ Benrey sent back. He’d behaved, despite largely being bored for this long, he could last a little longer. With nothing else to do for now though, he settled in for more solo gaming.

Over the next hour or so, he exchanged a couple more texts with Gordon, nothing substantial, just idle chit-chat. Not too long after that conversation petered out, Tommy texted him with, ‘Mr. Freeman fell asleep in backseat. I’m a bit worried after yesterday. This morning he said he slept the whole night through after falling asleep at the table so he shouldn’t be tired anymore, right? Dr. Coomer says its probably fine but IDK. Humans don’t normally sleep this much, do they?’

Gordon had lied; he’d been on the phone with Benrey most of last night again, claiming his nap had been enough sleep so he wanted Benrey to play the rest of Wind Waker ‘with’ him. The call had ended because he needed to head to breakfast before heading out. If he was lying about having slept to Tommy though then perhaps he’d been lying to Benrey too. Staying up all night wasn’t a non-issue. Maybe the napping made up for it but then why was he lying about it to Tommy? Benrey had no way of knowing so… ‘idk’

‘Yeah. I guess you wouldn’t know either. Maybe it’s the car making him sleepy because he fell asleep during our 1st ride too.’ After staying up most of the prior night too. Something was up for sure.

How important could sleep be even for fragile humans though? Gordon was an idiot sometimes, sure, but he wouldn’t willingly do something dangerous. The sleeping all night thing was probably just because humans liked the sun and didn’t want to fall asleep randomly in the middle of the day like Gordon kept doing. The sun was nice after all so Benrey understood. ‘prbly its fine’

From there their conversation drifted to other things before also petering out. Having a good conversation over text message was a bit hard and Benrey quickly grew too antsy to sit still for it. This was the longest he’d been away from Black Mesa ever and the call to wander the town more couldn’t be ignored now that it was really starting to sink in that this might be a permanent life change. Being in a similar boat, Bubby might want to go on a walk with him. They could bond over being lab experiments seeing the world for the first time. And so, leaving his phone on charge, he grabbed his camera and headed off to find Bubby.

***

The first thing Gordon did upon returning to the hotel was take a long shower. During which, he did his best not to worry about where Benrey had got off to. A text from Bubby had revealed that the two of them had gone off on a walk that had taken them further than they’d intended and were on their way back. Nothing to worry about, it made sense in fact, but… what were they doing on that walk?

Such thoughts were just Gordon being anxious though. Less than good sleep the past few nights made his anxiety spike. As far as he knew Benrey had behaved since it had been made clear to him what he had to gain for doing so, there was no reason for him to stop now.

Despite having mostly soothed his worries, he was hit with a rush of relief upon stepping out of the bathroom and finding Benrey sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for him. He’d shifted back to a less human look; his skin a light gray-purple, his hair dark purple, and his eyes an even more piercing yellow than last Gordon had seen them as such.

“Yo, play with me, you said you would.” He gestured with the Game Cube controller in his hand to the TV screen which already had the Melee character select menu open. His voice sounded odd in person after how long they’d talked on the phone for, almost as if it belonged to a different person. His phone friend that had kept him sane the past few nights couldn’t possibly be the same Benrey that had once tormented him.

Shaking off that odd feeling, Gordon walked over to sit in the chair next to him, picking up the other controller laid down on its armrest. “Good to see you again too.” That was entirely true because somehow his ‘phone friend’ and Benrey were indeed the same person. Probably for Benrey it had all been just more games and him being bored; he didn’t care about keeping Gordon sane, he just wanted something to do as well as the PS3 promised for good behavior. But that was fine, Gordon had never had much in the way of friends so he’d take whatever he could get because he’d really needed it the few few nights and still needed it now.

~

They played Melee and then Mario Kart for longer than was probably wise. In Gordon’s defense, Benrey insisted on playing just a little be longer each time he brought up that they should probably quit soon and Gordon hadn’t had the willpower to deny him when he wanted to keep playing too. Eventually though, partly due to his need to get something to eat, he did break away to go out for food.

By unspoken, unquestioned agreement that only hit Gordon as odd once in the car, Benrey went with him. Sitting down for a late lunch with him should’ve felt odd too but instead it felt completely normal even though he didn’t eat anything despite Gordon’s offer to get him something. Instead he sat across from Gordon, making idle conversation even as he played more on the Game Boy.

Afterwards came finding a storage facility with enough room for all the Black Mesa stuff they currently had packed into all the cars they’d brought over plus whatever else might be salvaged before they found a good temporary lab. Dr. Coomer and Tommy were still off with the rest of the scientists who’d returned to Tuefort. A quick text conversation with them ensured they’d continued to be kept busy for a while longer, allowing Gordon to not have to worry about dropping Benrey off back at the hotel before starting the search.

Tuefort being a small town made it easy to find a decent looking place that sold storage units. Because it wasn’t his money and in case the lab took a while to find and set up, Gordon went ahead and rented the biggest storage shed available. With Benrey’s help – who surprisingly didn’t complain too much upon being asked for assistance – he unloaded everything in the car he’d borrowed. It then took another trip to grab the rest of it from the other vehicles and store that too.

Once that was done, he was basically free for the rest of the day. Not that there was a whole lot of the day left. But it wasn’t so late that the library would be closed for another hour or two probably. So, still trying not to let his exhaustion show too much, he headed that way next. If he was lucky, he could do some good research today and then in the next couple days settle on a suitable place to live, allowing them to move out of the hotel rather quickly. Probably it wasn’t going to be that fast or easy but the sooner he started looking, presumably the sooner they’d be out too.

Speaking of moving into a more permanent place though, the assumption was that Benrey would be moving in with him. At the time of making that assumption it had felt like a somewhat unfortunate necessity, now it didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it would be rather enjoyable; constant company and someone to play games with. But well with his opinion of Benrey going up… “Do you want to live with me?” he asked as he pulled the car to a stop in the library’s mostly barren parking lot. It was rude not to ask him what he wanted, right? They were friends now and thus his thoughts on where he wanted to live mattered.

Benrey looked up from his game. “Uh… I don’t really got anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah but… well, I was talking about it with the others the morning Bubby left to head back here. I floated the idea that we find a place big enough for us all to live together, share the rent and all that. Tommy declined though ‘cause he prefers living alone with just Sunkist and Bubby said he wants to try living alone too. So we all kinda decided to just get our own places but uh… you weren’t there of course and it was already kinda assumed you’d stay roommates with me but… do you want that?”

“The other option is Coomer, right? Uh… nah, he’s not as much of a gamer as you.”

“The other, other option is you get your own place too.” Gordon still didn’t like the idea of Benrey going off into the world on his own without anyone nearby to even attempt to keep a leash on him but… it felt wrong to not bring it up as an option. He’d lived in the lab his whole life, not having his own space except for the gamer pad but presumably that was just a single room. He deserved a chance at more. “You can’t right now ‘cause you don’t have a job but you could start looking for one. And then once you find one and are able to, you could move out on your own.” That would hopefully delay it long enough for Benrey to be more set in being good and thus it would be less of an issue.

Benrey was silent for a few seconds as he stared out the front window. “So I could uh… have my own like, house? All mine, no one else’s?”

“Yes. Obviously getting you a job is easier said than done since you don’t have like a social security number or whatever. But we could figure something, I’m sure.” People forged those kinds of things all the time, didn’t they? “Just something to start thinking about and maybe working towards if you want it. For now though, you are stuck with me so c’mon, let’s go do some research and stuff.” He opened his door, allowing him to slide out.

After pocketing the Game Boy, Benrey followed suit, falling in step with him as they started for the library entrance. “How’s the library gonna help us find a place to live?”

“They got computers we can borrow to do research on.”

“We could’ve just used the hotel manager’s again. They leave pretty early, I think.”

“Nope. I can’t walk through walls so I’m not risking setting off an alarm by breaking in. But uh, you ever been in a library before?”

“In games, yeah. They seemed boring in real life.” Figures he’d both think that and that that would be the case.

“Nah, they’re cool. I’ll get you a library card while we’re here so you can use a computer and maybe check stuff out if you want to.”

“Hmm… okay.”

***

True to Gordon’s word, the library was cooler than it had seemed in theory. The books were indeed boring but there were so many of them, more than Benrey had ever seen in a single room before, they wrapped back around to be interesting to look at and run his fingers over as he walked along the aisles. In addition to them there were also movies and music CD’s available to check out. No video games but according to Gordon that might happen one day. The computers didn’t have any games installed on it but it was free to use with nothing but a library card which was pretty cool.

In all, it was enough to keep Benrey entertained while Gordon did his research. Occasionally he quietly called Benrey over or just texted him to get him to look at and give his thoughts on this or that apartment or house listing. Benrey didn’t have much of an opinion on most of it but Gordon considering his input to be important was novel enough he tried his best to provide some anyway.

Despite the newness of his environment and Gordon’s occasional desire for his opinion, his thoughts kept circling back around to having his own place. Never had he considered the idea before Gordon offered it. Not just a small room in an out of the way part of Black Mesa but a whole living set up, multiple rooms, possibly even a whole building, that was his and only his to do with as he pleased. He could set the temperature as high as he wanted, decorate in whatever way was fun, leave things as much a mess or as clean as he felt like at any given time. On the other hand though… living alone sounded like it might get lonely with the whole ‘alone’ part of that phrase. It was certainly an idea to chew on.

Eventually, around the time the novelty had mostly worn off, it was time to leave because the library was closing. “We can drive around and look at places tomorrow if you like,” Gordon said as they walked out back towards the car.

“Uh, sure.” And perhaps while doing so Benrey would pay attention and try to figure out what kinds of things one was supposed to watch for when looking to buy or rent their own place.

It was starting to get dark by the time they returned to the hotel. Despite that they hung out for a bit with the rest of the Science Team in the dining area for dinner and then a few hours more just to hang out. Upon returning to their room, Benrey had expected Gordon to go to sleep; he’d been yawning a lot, acting rather tired and he’d told the others he was off to bed. As soon as they were alone in their room though… “Wanna play some more Melee?”

Benrey didn’t bother with a verbal response. Instead he went over to pop the game into the console before turning it and the TV on while Gordon pulled the chairs back over. Why they’d even bothered to put the chairs back by the window was beyond Benrey. Who would want to sit idly by the window when there was a TV with a console connected to it?

As they played though, it became more and more obvious that perhaps Gordon should’ve gone to bed after all. Benrey was of course playing one handed, making it fair enough that he could rightfully tease Gordon for losing but also so he’d be challenged still. The latter wasn’t happening anymore. Gordon had been openly frustrated by the losses and the teasing which was fun but that emotional energy started petering out after a couple hours, leaving him boring to play with. Beating him was too easy and he didn’t seem to care, not even when Benrey called him a noob.

So as nice as it was to finally have someone willing to play games with him for a long stretch of time again… “Should probably give up and go to sleep now, huh?”

“Nah, nah, I’m… good for another round or two. Or maybe we could switch to Mario Kart or uh… Mario Party might be fun.”

Benrey, having nabbed Player 1 this time, backed out to the main menu. “You’re tired, it’s making you more stupid than normal.”

Proof of that was Gordon’s failure to look annoyed at being called stupid. “I’m fine. It’s only… uh…” he turned to check on the clock on the nightstand, “it’s not even midnight yet. I can stay up a bit longer.” … He was planning on staying up all night again? Really? Well, time to call him out on his lie then, huh?

Benrey stood and turned off the console and TV. He then walked over to stand in front of Gordon, letting him be the one looking down at him for once. He extended a hand for the controller still in Gordon’s hand. “You had a nightmare one night and then uh… the next night you asked me to help keep you up all night and then you did the same last night too, right?” Basically anyway, he’d called like halfway through it but had ended up staying awake for the rest of it.

Gordon looked at him in silence for a few second before sighing and handing over the controller. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Mm-hmm.” Benrey unplugged the controller from the console as he started loosely wrapping its cord around its middle. “And now you wanna stay up a third night in a row.”

“Uh… not the whole night maybe, just a few more hours.”

“But you said on the first night that missing one night wasn’t a problem but otherwise you need to sleep every night.” Benrey had paid attention because Gordon was his pet and he wanted to be a good pet owner.

“Yeah… I guess I did say that. But um… I’ve been napping and that makes up for it?” His voice rose a the end of it, making it a question, not a statement. Benrey wasn’t always good at picking up on those kinds of nuances but Gordon was often bad at not showing his emotions in some form on his face, in his words, or in his body language, making him easier to read than most people. It’s part of why Benrey liked him.

Benrey put the now neatly wrapped controller in its spot next to the Game Cube and unplugged the other one to start wrapping that one too. Wrapping the cord too tightly would be bad for it so he was careful to make it loose. “You lied to Tommy too. Said that uh… you slept all night last night when you didn’t. If napping made up for it, you wouldn’t’ve lied, right?” There wouldn’t have been a need to.

Gordon seemed to shrink under Benrey’s gaze. “Tommy told you I said that, huh?”

“Yep. Said he was worried ‘cause you fell asleep in the car after supposedly sleeping all afternoon and night.” Done wrapping the second controller now too. Which left him nothing to do with his hands as he turned back to Gordon so he just crossed them over his chest instead. “You’re a dirty lil’ liar, huh? Naughty boi.”

With a grimace, Gordon stood. “Look, I know I should sleep. It’s bad not to, I know that.But… well… I know I’m less likely to have a nightmare now that I’m finally out of that hellhole again. But I can almost guarantee I don’t have one, or at least don’t have a particularly vivid one,if I just stay up until I’m so exhausted I pass out. I promise that’s it’s… well, actually that is really fucking bad now that I’ve said it out loud but I just…” He trialed off with a groan as he rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate that you’re right.”

“Ha ha. I’m always right.”

“No, no you’re not. But you are right about this. So I guess I gotta go to bed. Do you think that we could…” He stopped as he looked away. Benrey waited for him to continue but after more than a minute of him just staring off into space, it became clear he wasn’t going to.

“We could what?”

Gordon flinched before he finally looked back up at Benrey. “Sorry I’m… real fucking tired. I’ll get ready for bed now. Thanks for… thanks.” He shambled over to the closet to pull out his pajamas before heading into the bathroom.

Benrey stared after him for a couple seconds before pulling out his phone. His first instinct was to text Tommy because Tommy knew lots of things about all sorts of stuff. But Tommy wasn’t human and didn’t need to sleep – though he did so every night anyway because he liked to, he was weird like that. Bubby also wouldn’t be a good person to ask when it came to matters related to humans sleeping because even though he was human, he was genetically engineered and thus likely his needs in that area probably weren’t the same as the average human’s. Leaving Coomer as the best person to ask. Presumably he’d once been a normal human before all the cybernetic upgrades, cloning, and whatever else they’d done to him had made him whatever he is now.

‘can humans die if they dont sleep enuf?’ Surely not, that was ridiculous, but Gordon had just implied that it was bad for him to skip sleep and ‘really fucking bad’ if he did so long enough to pass out. The question was how bad? He’d already proven himself not to be trusted when asked about such things though so Benrey had to go elsewhere.

Before Benrey could even finish lowering his phone, it pinged; Coomer’s reply. ‘Yes. Prolonged periods of sleep deprivation can lead to death in most animals, including humans.’

‘really?????’ Coomer had to be messing him, right? How could humans possibly be that weak?

‘Yes, really. Getting a proper night’s rest is essential for one’s health and well being. Most commonly sleep deprivation related deaths are the cause of impaired brain function leading to an accident. Such as a car, or other motorized vehicle, crash. In extreme cases, lack of sleep can lead to organ damage that eventually results in death.’

How was Benrey supposed to keep Gordon alive when something as dumb as not sleeping could kill him? Especially when his dumbass was over here trying to not sleep for multiple nights in a row. What the fuck was wrong with him? … His nightmares must be real bad, huh? Could the nightmares kill him too?

Before he could finish typing out that question to Coomer, Gordon returned. “Do you think you could uh… If you’re planning on hanging out here, if I start acting like I’m having a nightmare, could you wake me up? If you wanna go off and… I don’t know, play on the hotel manager’s computer some more instead, that’s fine too and stuff just…” He trailed off again.

Benrey put his phone away. He’d ask Coomer for more info later. “I’ll wake you.” Even though apparently if he did so too often Gordon could die. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to.

“Thanks. Good night.”

“’Night.”

Gordon shambled over and flopped onto the bed. This time he did remember to take his glasses off beforehand. He forgot to turn off the light though so Benrey did it for him, casting the room into darkness.

With a sigh he turned one of the chairs to face the bed before gathering up the Game Boy bag and sitting down in it. With a little bit of fucking around with the way his eyes worked he should be able to make himself see well enough in the dark to make the Game Boy’s lack of a properly lit screen a non-issue. So between that and texting Coomer for more information about humans’ required sleeping habits, he should have plenty to do to keep himself occupied while he watched over Gordon as he slept.

~

Next Chapter

[kiwiwinjindouche]

Nightmares From the Void: a horror Dishonored AU

(unless this title is already taken by something else or idk sfwjdwmfjdj i've not found anything? but let me know if it does)

I've talked about it a little some time ago, and even if I have to figure out more things (this is really getting out of hands), I have some bits to share!

Putting all this under a 'read more' cuz this is going to be a huge post.

I'd love to have your thoughts about it, if you feel like it!! <3

Quick description:

This may be a Horror!AU, but it’s definitely not just “OOOO JUMPSCARES AND GORE”. Horror isn’t just that, you know? And the best part about this is looking for references and more information because this is so interesting and so much better than just blood and viscera everywhere. I really wanted them to have their own little vibe, despite everything, and playing with the different kinds of horrors and fears. This all needs a bit more thinking yet, I’m sure, but I really like it so far.

There’re uh, changes, and maybe I’m thinking this too much like a third person game? I don’t know, maybe in first person it’d still look great.

This is just about Dishonored 2 (for now, at least?), and I mostly though about the main villains, to be honest. But as time goes by (and as I’m writing this post), I want to explore the other areas too.

I find some of the ideas a bit too obvious, somehow, but eeehhh :fingerguns: My mindset was kinda 'how could we go further, and into the horror genre, than this?"

After the ritual to bring back Delilah, in 1849, powers from the Void started to spread into Aramis’ mansion, crawling into the veins of those who were here. They slowly turned them into more monstrous versions of themselves. The closer to the ritual you were, the bigger the impact the Void had on you. Some of the guards got infected as well, but way less than the main crew. Memories of alternative lives flashed through them too.

Differences for the coup crew:

Mission 1: A Long Day in Dunwall

Enemies: /

Description: Something feels off, as a puppet-ish Luca arrives. Then, Delilah appears, and the crowd is horrified by her look and all the vines and flowers.

Additional notes: Delilah can flee with Alexi’s corpse, so the player must fight her later as an undead.

Boss battle: Ramsey is not affected by the Void, so nothing changes.

Mission 3: The Good Doctor

Type of horror: Kind of slasher, ‘virus’, body horror

Enemies: The guards are infected with bloodflies and mushrooms (? Virus?). They technically are undead and immortal, but weak. They can be killed for good with fire. Guards + Bloodflies.

Description: The player tries to escape Grim Alex’s grip. They can carry a torch to keep her away.

Additional notes: There are a torch, blueprints and upgrades regarding fire equipment in Vasco’s belongings.

Boss battle: First, the player must find the main nest of the bloodflies and burn it. Grim Alex follows the player, and she can control the bloodflies. If the player tries to kill her, her body gets infested with bloodflies and she charges back. She is afraid of fire. Her fight only has one phase, and the player either helps her with the serum or kills her for good.

Why this? Because Alexandria is already kind of infected by something, and I think she should be a bit more unhinged when you face her. I decided to go with a wendigo/rake vibe for her. She follows you everywhere you go, and you can’t really get rid of her if you don’t have fire. Everything feels more organic yet dead at the same time. There should be a spark of hope somewhere, though.

Inspirations: RE / TLOU / Redead / Scorn / Outlast / Bloodborne

Mission 4: The Clockwork Mansion

Type of horror: Psychological

Enemies: Cyborgs and clockworks. The guards are a bit weaker than the original soldiers, but they can share some capabilities. Guards + Clockworks.

Description: A kind of Hide and Seek in the mansion. The player gets knock out at the beginning and must find their stuff.

Additional notes: Sokolov is saved after the fight. They are eyes on the wall.

Boss battle: The player fights Kirin in his laboratory. He is waiting for them and jumps on his greatest clockwork (a huge one). First, the player fights the robot. Phase two, the fight is taking place beneath the laboratory, in the basement, room of the generator. The player can tear Kirin’s artificial arms/legs apart. The final move is pushing him against the generator and watching him getting electroshocked. Either it kills him or not is up to the player, depending on the power of the shock (player can get to the room before the battle).

Why this? I was thinking about more clockworks and mechanical things. In fact, the starting point of all this was for Kirin to build cyborgs too. Then, the idea of him having bugs features came to me, as a reference to him tearing their legs and such. But then, and as much as I wanted to avoid the spider thing, Kirin playing with you, as you try to escape his mansion (his web) sounded more fitting.

Inspirations: Lies of P / Shining / Bacterial Contamination / BG3 (Malus) / Mimic / Nosk / DrOctopus

Mission 5: The Royal Conservatory

Type of horror: Paranormal and jump scares

Enemies: Zombies and stuffed animals. The guards are slower but hit harder. Guards + Witches + Animals.

Description:

Additional notes: Lots of illusions. Aggressive skulls. Moving around through mirrors.

Boss battle: The player has the option to fight a big cursed plush to get the defective lens. With each hit the doll takes, it loses a member part (leg, arm…) and the player must destroy them too before they go back to the doll. Then, mirror labyrinth to get to Breanna, while the player is followed by zombies. Breanna’s fight takes place in a room surrounded by mirrors too. If the player goes behind the scenes before phase two, they can use the defective lens and remove Breanna’s powers, leading them to the non-lethal ending. Phase two, she is mostly stronger than before, but also helped by the doll if the player didn’t destroy it earlier.

Why this? I had the idea of zombies for Breanna for a long time. Again, just thinking about “how could we go further?” But zombies weren’t enough. And then I thought ‘well, there’re also a ton of dead animals there’. I also wanted to find something revolving around the lenses, or rather, glasses, hence the mirrors, and the illusions. As for the cursed plush, we already know witches have some voodoo plushies they use from time to time, so I thought it was a good reference to this too.

Inspirations: Twilight Princess (Blizzeta) / Collector (Hollow Knight)

Mission 7: A Crack in the Slab

Type of horror: Liminal spaces and gothic horror

Enemies: Ghosts. The guards don’t attack the player unless player attacks them first. They have 1 hp and respawn at each time switch. Guards.

Description: The player travels through Aramis’ mind. They must find all the broken memory pieces to restore Aramis’ health and spirit. The player starts with a 45 minutes chrono. After 15 minutes, the level starts to fall apart. The player can use clocks and hourglasses to slow or speed time.

Additional notes: The level falls apart, much like Aramis’ mind. Clocks, hourglasses. Maybe some enigmas. The player still can’t use their powers.

Boss battle: Race against time. The player must travel through past and present to stop the boss – who is TBD still (a strange chimera? And echo of Luca?). To help Aramis fully recover, the player must defeat it. Else, they can either decide to kill him or let him stay insane.

Why this? What better than liminal spaces and fear of the nothing for Aramis? His mind is falling apart, and so is the level. You must be a bit quick into this labyrinth. As I’m writing this, this needs some more thinking, but maybe thanks to a new power (or simply, a better ‘Possession’) you can go to Aramis’ mind instead of just wondering around his mansion. The idea stays the same, but still.

Inspirations: Backrooms / Crys Tales / Poes

Mission 8: The Grand Palace

Type of horror: Survival…?

Enemies: Puppets. The guards are more agile, dodge more the attacks. Guards.

Description:

Additional notes: Show off. The player must repair the false duke and the pieces are all around the palace. Inspired by the royalty and the Game. Some puppets and guards wear masks. There are music boxes in the palace (around the ballroom). Puppet and some bits of flesh.

Boss battle: Luca waits for the player in his ballroom, where they find multiple false dukes dancing with the ‘guests’. They must find the right one and defeat him. They can also be helped by a dysfunctional puppet they must repair first – Armando. Then, Luca twisted and turns into a giant puppet with wacky movements.

Why this? So, this might be the less ‘horror’ one, somehow. Depends on if you are fine with getting surrounded by puppets or not. But why puppets? Because Luca longs for control. He is creating himself a perfect little world where everyone will obey him. And yet, he is one of them, because Delilah is already using him. I had in mind a ballroom, more excessive and unnecessary shows off. He is rich, he is powerful, he doesn’t care about the others.

Inspirations: Little Nightmares / Steelrising (ambient) / Skull kid puppets / Nutcracker

Mission 9: Death to the Empress

Type of horror: Analog horror and strange imagery, a bit of dark fantasy but tiny bit

Enemies: A bit of everything and living paintings. The guards are moving when the player is not watching. The paintings can catch and block the player, attack them or simply scare them. Guards + Witches + Clockworks + Paintings.

Description:

Additional notes:

Boss battle: First, the player fights her outside, but there are other living paintings that attack them. Every weakness moment of Delilah, the player can reunite her with her soul. Then, she runs into her perfect world, the player shall follow her, but instead they find a crying Jessamine. They have a small chat together, until the player realizes it’s Delilah using her powers to stab where it hurts. The player then fights Delilah, but with Jessamine’s appearance. Lastly, Delilah charges a final blow, and statues are attacking the player. They must survive a certain amount of time. Then, the final blow explodes and both her and the player are thrown out of the painting. The player wakes up before she does, and either they decide to kill her or not by messing with the ritual.

Why this? Well, I know analog horror is also about found footage and doesn’t suit Dishonored, but the weird imagery looks just fine for a painter. Also, what about moving statues? Surely this is not new, and not all of them would move obviously.

Inspirations: Mandela Catalogue / A Hat in Time / Layers of fear / Canvas Curse (Drawcia)

And that's ... almost it? Wait, could this be... what's up there???

Epilogue: Secret Meeting

Type of horror: Cosmic horror

Description: If the player found all the runes and bonecharms throughout the game, after the credits they appear in the Void. The Outsider comes to them to talk about their run, their choices, and asks them if they wish to see his true form. Then, the player can decide to fight him.

Why this? Because I wanted to add cosmic horror to the list! And the Outsider is already kind of that, the Void is a space beyond true comprehension and such. I still have to figure out his ‘true form’ as a powerful being.

Inspirations: Lovecraft

AND NOW, that's about it so far! As you can see, some things still need a good thinking and such, to be worked on. I've also started to think about a playlist, but I'm not sure about it yet and this is going to be for later. There'll definitely be more to it, I just don't know when lol.

THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU'VE READ IT ALL, it means a lot!!!! 💗​💗​💗​

[familyvideostevie]

A top gun anon (again - hi I’m obsessed).

If you’re taking rooster requests I’ll probably love ANYTHING you write but like, sick fic rooster? Or idk even cocky enemies-to-lovers rooster is the vibe.

But seriously, anything. 💕

hi! thank you for being so patient, i know you sent this ages ago! i went with bradley taking care of you when you're sick <3 | fem!reader, sick fic, fluff, 1.2k

"Did you feel sick when you woke up?" Bradley's voice is crackly over the phone. Reception on the base is touch and go, so you're lucky to have gotten through to him at all.

"No," you mutter. "Well, not really. Not enough to do anything about it."

It's mostly true. When your boyfriend had gotten up at his usual 4am hour for a run before heading to work to teach cocky young aviators how to fly million-dollar hunks of metal, you'd felt fine. Tired, obviously, but used to accepting his kiss goodbye and going back to sleep. The faint ache at your temple hadn't registered until you'd woken up only an hour later, the sun barely in the sky, to a full-blown headache. And after that came chills, nausea, and a low fever. 

"Do you want me to come home early?" Bradley asks. You pull your phone away from your face and squint at it. It's only 1pm and you know he's meant to teach until at least 5. But you're feeling pretty sorry for yourself in your nest of blankets and your growing pile of tissues and you want him to hold you.

"No need," you say. You can handle a few more hours. "I called to ask you to pick up some stuff on your way home though, if you don't mind."

He scoffs and you can practically hear the exasperated raise of his eyebrows. "If I don't mind. That fever really has messed with your head, huh?" There's a shuffling sound, like he's moving the phone to his other ear. "I'll get all the good stuff," he tells you. "Top shelf flu medicine and soup and Gatorade and anything else you want. Any special requests?"

You shut your eyes and feel the bridge of your nose start to sting. You've been together long enough that it shouldn't get to you -- the ease of Bradley's love. The way he does things above and beyond for you from the simplest of tasks to big romantic gestures. It makes your heart constrict in your chest and you want more than anything to hold him right now. 

"No," you say thickly. "Just you, Bradley." He sighs over the phone. It sounds like longing. 

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice softer. "You took something, right? Like, Tylenol, or --"

"Yeah," you tell him, sniffling a little and hoping he doesn't hear it. "Yeah, I'm in bed under like, every blanket in the house and I took some with a piece of toast about an hour ago."

Someone calls Bradley's callsign in the background. He ignores it. "Go to sleep or something and I'll be home when you wake up, yeah?" You hear Rooster! again.

"Get back to work, Lieutenant," you whisper. He laughs. "Love you," you add.

"Love you back," he says immediately. "Get some rest, sick girl."

You do as he says, curling under the blankets and doing your best to doze. It seems to work, since your eyes pop open who knows how long later to the sound of the front door closing. You blink blearily and feel your head pounding, still. You're hot instead of cold which means your fever hasn't budged and you feel disgusting. Maybe Bradley will draw you a bath if you ask. 

Speaking of -- either you're being robbed or your boyfriend is home. The covers seem to have eaten your phone but you fish it out and check the time -- only 3pm. You've only been asleep for a little while and he's home way too early, so you roll yourself out of bed with a groan, taking a blanket with you even though you're sweating a little. 

Bradley is in the kitchen unloading two stuffed bags, his back to you. You watch him pull out soups from your favorite deli, far too many bottles of your favorite flavor of Gatorade, and an entire pharmacy's worth of cold and flu meds.

"Did you buy the whole store?" you say, voice scratchy from sleep. You sound sick to your own ears. Your boyfriend whips around and his shoulders loosen at the sight of you, though his brows are drawn tight with concern. 

"Should you be out of bed?" he scolds, though his arms reach for you as he does. "C'mere." You shuffle into his space and he gently rests one hand on your cheek and presses the back of the other to your forehead. "Still hot," he mutters.

"I'm always hot," you tease, though it comes out halfhearted as you're hit with another round of shivers. Bradley smirks but his brows don't unfurl. "You're home early."

He strokes the skin below your eye before turning back to the counter to put his purchases away. He doesn't have to be in uniform to teach, but he wore it today, so he must have had some meetings. Even in your sick state, you admire how handsome he is. "Couldn't leave you home sick all alone, could I?" he says. You amble over to the kitchen stools and plop into one before you fall over. Your head is still pounding.

"You could have," you tell him. He leaves out one Gatorade, a dose of cold and flu medicine, and a container of soup.

"I'll rephrase," he says. "I missed you and I wanted to come home to take care of you." The bridge of your nose starts to burn again. You close your eyes. It feels silly to be so overwhelmed but you can't help it. Everything hurts and you're feeling sorry for yourself and you have the most perfect man in the world ready and willing to take care of you. It's basic, expected behavior from someone who loves you but it never ceases to feel like a miracle. 

"I'm glad you're home," you whisper. You hear Bradley walk towards you, feel him slide next to your stool. You open your eyes to find him close, looking at you with tenderness and fondness and concern all wrapped in one. "I feel like shit," you say, laughing a little wetly. 

"My poor baby," Bradley sighs. You twist in your seat and reach for him, blanketed arms winding around his waist as he pulls you to him, face pressed into his chest and his arms looping around your shoulders. He strokes your hair and you cringe to think about how it's kind of dirty. But you don't linger on it and instead breathe him in -- he smells like oil, desert wind, and cologne. He smells like home.

"Here's what I'm thinking," he says. "I run you a bath and you soak while the soup heats up and I change the sheets and then we get some meds and liquids in you. And then we can get in bed and watch a movie, or something."

"Okay," you say into his shirt. You pull away to look up at him. "That sounds nice." Bradley smiles at you and cups your cheek, bringing his face down for a kiss. You press a palm to his mouth. "You'll get sick," you chide.

He kisses your hand before drawing it away. "I've got an immune system of steel. And if I do, you'll just take care of me." It's not a question, it's not a joke. It's just a fact and you both know it. You take care of each other. 

"Okay," you say softly, before pressing your lips to his. It's a chaste kiss but it's a familiar one. It's I'm here, I'm home. It's you're safe, you're going to be okay. It's I love you.

"Bath," Bradley mumbles against your mouth. "Let's go, sick girl."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[ruinedsam]

Feeling kinda obsessed over Ruby telling Sam that sure he’s mad now when it comes out that Ruby’s been working to free Lucifer and manipulating him, and that Lucifer’s going to be grateful and repay Sam for freeing him, and Ruby showing Sam her back when Dean comes in; it really reads like Ruby expected expected Sam to forgive her and this just was a temporary fight. IDK if there’s a fic but I almost wish to write one now, where Dean does not arrive/does not enter in time to see Sam, so Sam is under the impression Dean wants to hunt him down per the voicemail and now Ruby is legit the only person Sam has (as he’s not really friends with Castiel at this point and Bobby held a gun to him not long ago so as far as Sam can tell, Bobby is down with hunting Sam), so it’s either be totally alone or find a way to live with demons as his only real allies. Somehow even more yet simultaneously less toxic than canon Samruby where Ruby is no longer actively manipulating Sam but Sam is so broken by the events of season 4 that he’s willing to accept Ruby in his life as the only person he has besides the archangel wishing to wear his body like a dress (more toxic because this thing cannot possibly be healthy in the aftermath yet also less toxic because at least Ruby is not lying to Sam any more, yet her previous lies cannot be forgotten or ignored). Dean is trying to get through to his brother, but Sam a) doesn’t know for sure his brother is looking for him and b) thinks Dean wants him dead and while Lucifer would just bring him back, it would still be annoying and Sam thinks it would break him beyond repair to die at Dean’s hands. Also Lucifer and the demons working for him are working to keep Dean far, far away from Sam so that there’s no chance of brotherly reconciliation and that’s part of why Sam doesn’t know Dean’s looking for him. I think it should either follow canon relatively well or be wildly canon divergent where everything goes very very wrong for the world (so maybe this is all taking place in Croatoan!world & this fic claims that world occurred because Dean was too slow and Sam had nobody but Ruby, which isn’t my actual hc but I’ve never thought too deeply about how all that started so it doesn’t really matter) (and if this is taking place there, I’d have the last scene be something like Sam saying yes to Lucifer/Lucifer doing what he does to that world or something, and then a flash forward of five years, to 2014, where we see the opening of canon!Dean arriving like he does in that episode), but if it’s roughly canon, then Bobby and Dean do not find out literally anything about why Sam killed Lilith until they team up with Crowley or meet Brady.

Crowley is the one to tell them that no, baby bro has no idea Dean’s looking because Lucifer is ensuring none of them get close but I think Brady should be the one to reveal, as a possibly high-ranking demon since he works directly under the Horsemen and is sent by Azazel to get Sam hunting again, that Sam heard a wildly different voicemail. Ruby here heard the voicemail and knew it was the angels, passed this onto Lucifer, and this also made its way through the Lucifer loyalists, so Brady knows exactly what Sam heard. Dean, who’d been thinking Sam heard the real voicemail and just didn’t care, is both deeply relieved to know otherwise and utterly horrified to discover his brother thinks Dean planned to hunt him. Brady makes things even worse by turning to Castiel and asking, faux-shocked, if Castiel hadn’t told his pet hunters that Dean’s voicemail was changed; maybe Castiel knew the plan, maybe not, just know Brady is attempting to drive a wedge between him and Dean. This succeeds, especially when Brady gleefully says Castiel also let Sam out do the panic room, ironically saving his life (“now that I’m thinking on it, it’s funny in a way. The only reason Sam even lived that night was so he could free Lucifer. He would’ve died in that detox otherwise. And you’re working with the guy who let him go to break the seal, all while claiming you want to stop the apocalypse”). Crowley left for not even 10 minutes and returns to their alliance in shambles, Brady grinning bloody teeth all the while. Dean is understandably having a bad day, and it only gets worse as Brady muses that from what he’d heard, Dean gave his brother so much grief over trusting the wrong person, yet Dean did that too. “At least Ruby admitted what she did, your angel here was happy to leave you ignorant of what he did.” If Brady is going to die, he’s dying making rude comments and breaking up the dream team

Enjoy my rambling thoughts on how I would make Samruby after killing Lilith even worse and ultimately cause everyone else to be even worse off as well. Also, voicemail fix-it but also voicemail “make it worse,” where only Dean finds out of the changed message and they never get to talk about it so Sam always thinks he hears Dean’s real message that fateful day.

I would love to read this fic! 👀👀👀

This is so interesting to think about! I think Ruby 100% thought what she was doing was for Sam’s good and that he would eventually realize that. Ruby’s death scene is one of those SPN scenes that make me insane. Forever thinking about the way Sam twisted his face in pain as if he was the one getting stabbed. Would he have been able to kill Ruby if Dean hadn’t arrived? Would he have tried?

You said in a way it would be less toxic bc Ruby is no longer manipulating Sam, but tbh I don’t really see how she’d get Sam to stay with her instead of going off alone without any manipulation, even if he has no one else. Or at least she’d have to foster some intense codependency between her and Sam...

Also a thing to ponder about is how does Ruby stand to Lucifer wanting to possess Sam? She is incredibly loyal to Lucifer and the cause but I also think she genuinely loves Sam in her own (demon) way. I’m pretty sure she had no idea about the vessel stuff so what does she think about it? Are her loyalties split? Does she still think this is a reward for Sam? Would she turn against Lucifer for Sam? 

Yess I love Brady spilling the beans!!! What wouldn’t I give for a scene like this being canon, everyone knowing about Cas and Dean realizing he’s just as guilty about trusting the wrong person!! Also someone else reminding Dean that he was going to let Sam die in the detox!! I love Brady <333