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lakesbian · 11 months ago

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okay, as i have been encouraged by the public (like 2 people) to go forward with this research, i present the very scientific Tier List of Blonde Wildbow Characters Ranked From Most to Least Likely to Have A Piss Kink. virtually no one wanted this post. i did not want this post. it is 2.1k words long. i wanted to inform you of that before you clicked read more in case you were just expecting a tier list image and did not actually want to read 2.1k words about piss kinks.

wherein:

the tier list exists because of this ask, which was written in jesting response to the subject of victoria dallon's canon piss kink (more on that below) and somewhat intentionally misrepresented by me as being contextless because i thought it was funny to crop it and reply with 'ok.' which led to a massive containment breach and several thousand people not realizing anon was trying to make a joke. sorry. my bad, anon.

here, "likelihood of having a piss kink" is defined as "likelihood of having a kink that involves primarily or significantly urine," and genre of piss kink shall be clarified for the characters where it's a possibility.

no pictures are included for the characters because not all of them have fanart and also there's a lot of them and the tier list is only so big and i'm lazy

characters i do not know well enough to vibe check are not included

rationally speaking it would make most sense to presume that unless a character has a canon or heavily implied piss kink it is heavily implausible for them to have one but this post would be boring and pointless if i went that route so i'm going to include some somewhat baseless vibe-checking/discussion of hypotheticals where it's not explicitly disproven or improbable. with my bestest attempts to remain reasonable levels of character accurate given the post circumstances.

our ranks here are:

canon: this character canonically has a piss kink

highly plausible: there is strong contextual evidence that could be used to argue for the presence of a piss kink

plausible: based on more vibes/less solid evidence than "highly plausible," but a piss kink is still possible

could go either way: there is a lack of evidence in either direction, there's no way to make a clear argument on the matter

not very plausible: there is decent contextual evidence or simply Character Vibes that could be used to argue against the presence of a piss kink

strong evidence against: it can be deemed nigh-certain that this character does not have a piss kink

The Chart:

the characters who were not included because i do not know them personally (opinions welcomed):

all three ashleys

bianca

The Analysis:

Canon:

victoria: stated by wildbow to have some kind of "preferred fluid" you shouldn't drink, knows what urine tastes like. canon watersports kink. i hate her. i hope she stands within 20 feet of fentanyl and overdoses and dies. i hope she goes down a slide too hard.

Highly Plausible:

citrine: we know that accord is certainly and without doubt enough of a control freak (<- said w/ deep affection) that he insists that his ambassadors refrain from Wanton and Unprofessional Bathroom Breaks, but also insists that they never indicate they have to pee (or engage in any other basic bodily function) ever because that's Icky and if they do he will want to Rube Goldberg Machine But The Machine Is A Saw Trap them about it. and we know that citrine gets off on him being a control freak. it can thus be reasonably extrapolated that she's constantly doing accidental omorashi w/ accord and is just as into that as she is all the other aspects of control. the piss is incidental--the main point is still whatever appeals to her about the control in general--but, like, The Piss Is There. extremely does not want to experience what would happen if she ever even remotely fucked up holding, but presumably enjoys the mortifying ordeal of attempting to politely excuse herself to the restroom and/or stoically holding so she doesn't have to excuse herself in the first place.

paige (pact): she textually, literally, canonically, For Fucking Real, is a lesbian who enters into the world of pactverse magic because she's tempted by a hypothetical dom/sub dynamic with a hot professor who is actually a sphinx. (if any of you who haven't read pact yet are reading this post. Please go read pact.) this extrapolation is less blatant than citrine, but it's by no means unreasonable to assume that there could be some bladder control going on here. she can go to the bathroom when she's a good girl and finishes answering all of isadora's questions. etc. hey do you think pactverse would have really hardcore RACK omorashi where you make a statement that you are NOT going to go until [x amount of time] and it's your karma on the line if you fuck it up. i bet people with executive dysfunction in pact do this type of shit a lot. they're like i am going to start my homework RIGHT NOW!!! and then they Have to. i digress.

Plausible:

peter: we have no information about his love life beyond him flirting with ainsley amidst a Serious Disaster involving Demons, so this is just vibes-based, but he's mean and manipulative and unpleasant in a specific way that could theoretically insinuate that he would enjoy accidentally-on-purpose preventing a girl from getting to the bathroom & watching her squirm. you'll have to trust me on this.

Could Go Either Way:

ellie: my consultant re the pelhams vibes-based ranked her higher than peter, but i don't see it. i could see her having one, but it'd be in a different and grosser direction than peter. i feel like blake's comparison of her to a weak, groveling dog in a pack may be relevant here.

rose (old): i don't strongly see it, but based on what we know about her sex life i wouldn't be surprised if she participated in any heat-of-the-moment watersports.

rose (young): somehow coming in with the exact right bizarre psychosexual complexes to score higher than both blake and pre-meiosis thorburn. i don't think it's likely, but i somehow don't see a reason to mark her down as entirely implausible. her theoretical psychosexual complex about blake is marked by a few facts: she says that he has a "hate-on" for her, she does that weird thing where she hugs him for comfort & lets him give her his jacket (what if the lamb you were leading to slaughter was the man you could've been, and for just a moment, you wanted to take kindness from The Man You Could've Been despite the fact that, because you are not him, you will betray him regardless), when he sacrifices himself to fuse with/bolster her the fusing is described in ostensibly sexual language (being Inside her, the two halves grinding, etc), and she does that whole noticeable twice-over to his almost-naked body. she would absolutely never admit to wanting to fuck her "clone," but were she to envision it, the scenario she would mentally craft would involve blake wanting to fuck her (he never would & she knows this) and, like, eating her out like he wants to kill her or doing some boot frotting with splinters. oh and she would give him the most awkward dry unpleasant handjob on the planet where she's very clearly treating him like a program to experiment with, press button A and find out if it gets result B. I digress. one could also imagine a theoretical rose thorburn piss kink which remains an entirely subconscious psychosexual fixation that she freudian-slips into conversation at least once a la "hate-on," wherein the ideal scenario for her earlier into the book would be wetting herself for reasons entirely against her control despite being so very brave and stalwart and stoic, and imaginary blake is like "wow you were so brave and stoic about that...it's ok everyone has gotten into an awkward spot once or twice in their lives. in fact, [personal recounting of relevant horrible memory]. here have my jacket i will tie it around your waist for you with a lingering amount of physical contact." and later into the book that would switch to just Making The Fuck Up that he'd be really mean and humiliating about it and then getting mad about her imaginary vision of him doing that even though he literally would not do that ever. (the hypothetical of him being mean about it would be a kink thing for her also obviously. Hate On, she says.) okay sorry for talking so much about rose thorburn's psychosexual fixation with blake thorburn i think it's really funny for her to be extremely abnormal about the clonefucking quandary.

fell: i don't actually know him well enough to postulate what genre it would be if he hypothetically had one but despite not Expecting that he has one i wouldn't find it wholly implausible if wildbow got up tomorrow and made an announcement declaring that he does. i think this could be utilized primarily for the humor purposes of, like. blake being like "hey i know we can't really pull over right now BUT could you pull over? i need to take a leak. should i say want to? is it technically lying if i say need but it's not an emergency yet?" and fell being like No. Do Not Say Another Word On This Subject And Also I Hate You. which is because he is desperately and fervently and furiously and with great and genuine anger and rage attempting to Not think about Blake Thorburn, A Conventionally Attractive And Very Annoying Man, having to pee. but blake interprets it as fell being an asshole for no reason and is like ohhh ok fuck you i guess should i just pee on your seat then. you want me to ruin your car seat? [accusatory, fully bluffing, would rather kill himself than piss in fell's car] you're a car guy who doesn't even care about your fancy white upholstery? and fell is like [desperately doing mental math on if blake thorburn, whomst is already covered in fleas and bloods and mysterious liquids, would be petty enough to intentionally piss himself to ruin fell's car] . I will make you walk. like you can see my vision right.

Not Very Plausible:

kathryn: i simply do not see it. she could have something weird going on but it's not a piss kink. the vibes are not being served.

sandra: also a simple matter of the vibes not being there. has probably been exposed to it at one time or another but sees it as undignified and so on

callan: not sensing it

lisa: bathroom shit is surely beyond mundane to her just like everyone elses private bodily workings thoughts feelings etc. i dont even think she has any kinks or interest in sex in general

crystal: this is the only interesting one in this section! she was described to me as "very laid back, but also kind of passive. she's a slob in her private life. sort of goes with the flow to the point that it led her joining a paramilitary force with no oversight." i think being in the dallon-pelham torment nexus sort of intrinsically adds +20 Not Likely points unless youre victoria but i can only assume from this description of her personality that if someone she was fucking was into it she would just roll with it.

neil: was described to me as "neil barely gets anything. he's kind of reckless? he trained victoria a lot. he cheated on his wife with her sister. he liked knocking toddler-aged victoria over as a form of 'training.'" probably not very likely at all but who knows. maybe "declines to fuck sarah and watches panty pissing porn instead" is on his list of secrets next to "cheated on his wife with her sister."

Strong Evidence Against:

carol, paige (worm) (this is canary in case you forgot like i did), cuff, theo, sarah: the club of generic respectable milquetoast cishets who would not do any of that shit and would probably judge someone at least a little for any amount of kink (or in some cases even vanilla sex <3), with paige coming on on the less-judgemental end of the scale and carol coming in at the high end of the judgement scale.

ciara: not generic milquetoast or respectable but the idea of her being into it is just like. silly to me. faerie queens aren't into piss that would be ridiculous. unless they're pactverse faerie queens, then it's a "got bored of it 31 centuries ago" situation, but ciara is not a pactverse faerie.

elle: already struggles with keeping up with hygiene and like...general Existence. surely would not associate any bodily function w/ anything but a task to complete or a mess to clean (<- other task). also presumably might need help going to the bathroom/being reminded that she needs to go sometimes so that certainly would not b anywhere near sexual to her

scion: uh. well. I don't think he knows what any of that shit is to be real with you. Does he even fucking count as blonde?

blake: is textually extremely triggered and distressed and disgusted by being dirty/unclean & losing control over his physical body, to the point where not being able to regularly shave is actively seriously detrimental to his mental health. his tragic character arc of having his identity degraded to the point where "is that still blake" becomes debatable a la ship-of-theseus question is viscerally represented by the fact that bogeyman-blake is just constantly filthy, to the point of turning snow into gray, stained slush when he walks thru it. struggling to deal with basic bodily functions & cleanliness while homeless absolutely severely traumatized him. he would react to someone else wetting themselves with, like, appropriately blake-like levels of kindness & concern, but he would still 100% find the actual piss disgusting. he would try to avoid showing it, but he would find it disgusting. we see him reacting with immense horror to conquest threatening to make him soil himself. if he were ever actually forced into a circumstance where he was genuinely worried about the possibility of pissing himself--let alone if he actually did so--he would have a Category 5 DEFCON 1 Mental Health Moment. all of which is a great reason he should have pissed himself at least once during pact! (<- i just elaborated on this point at such great length i had to force myself to backspace it all and move onto the next bulletpoint)

PMT: exact same trauma as blake. because you know. They were Blake before they got got. unlike blake, still capable of wanting to fuck people, but, like, We Know They're Not Doing Anything With Piss. leatherdyke piss kinkster pmt is a beautiful beautiful vision but its not true.

there you go. thats it. thats the tierlist.

#piss kink tierlist

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spectrechosts · 15 days ago

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My Bloody Valentine

I want to be done reuploading and all I have left is shorter stories I haven't touched in forever which means shit is getting CONDENSED into single posts so I can have all this done by Halloween.

This one is about a warlock on an elven spaceship and the human who's newly hired to work with her. Five chapters in this post.

"For future reference, when you're hiring a human weapons tech, generally they know how to maintain particle beams, autocannons, things like that. Not… whatever this is."

"I'll keep it in mind, rook. Now touch up those containment sigils before we all fry."

The weapons bay on the Ivy Cudgel was a single small room. Refrigerators filled with bags of blood lined one wall, and five IV poles to place them on were arranged in the center of the room. The "weapons system" was a single elf, currently sitting within a summoning circle and gibbering to herself almost imperceptibly as the IVs dribbled blood onto her face.

The rookie had been introduced to her when she got the job ("Hello," She had said, not making eye contact. "I will be in your care, I look forward to working together."), and had seen her around the ship since. She was a quiet, fragile thing, even for an elf. She didn't speak unless spoken to, she was never in any of the communal areas if she could avoid it, the rookie only knew that she ate on account of her boss grumbling about making sure she did before going to the mess hall. Her uniform was unique among the crew, ceremonial black robes and various eerie trinkets. The rookie didn't know where exactly "warlock" fit into the command structure, but everyone on the ship treated her with respect, so she did too.

Even if she had to be the one to pour blood on her head so that she could channel a demon to rend enemy ships asunder.

The ship shuddered, sending IV poles clattering to the floor.

"Shit!" Her boss cursed, "Fix those, now!"

"Weapons officer, status." Came a voice from her boss' comms badge.

"Not ideal if impacts are going to keep knocking our shit over, captain."

"Shields are on their last legs, we need to end this quickly. Full power."

"Yes captain." She said, and clicked off her comm badge. "Okay rook, what you're about to see never leaves this room, got it?"

"…Yes?" She said, unsure of what could possibly be more taboo than what they were already doing.

"Good." Her commanding officer said, and then swiftly drew a dagger from her belt and drove it into her own palm.

"What the FUCK-" She screamed, and her boss waved her off with what was now her good hand, the other pressed to her mouth. Blood gushed from the wound, staining her face. She strode into the summoning circle and the demon snapped to face her, pupilless eyes trained on the source of fresh blood.

Before the beast could pounce, the officer removed her hand from her face and pulled her into a kiss, blood pooled in her mouth flowing between their lips. The containment sigils smoked and hissed and the rookie scrambled to repaint them all fast enough to prevent a breach.

She could worry about what the fuck she was watching later.

Her boss was now kissing the warlock's neck while she lapped at her bloody hand like an animal, and it wasn't hot, and she was focused on the circle and not blushing.

"We're in the clear, shut her down officer."

Her boss whispered something unpronounceable in the warlock's ear, and she shuddered and went limp as the demon left her. She held her tightly, kissed her forehead reassuringly.

"Pass me the bandages, rookie."

She did as she was told, and her boss started wrapping her hand. She had so many questions.

"Is… Is that part of my job?"

"No."

don't say it don't say it don't say it

"Can it be?"

Her boss chuckled. "Ask her when she's feeling better, rookie."

~~~

She has the same dream every night.

The ship is empty, but she isn't alone. She can feel it.

She wanders the corridors for an eternity. There is nothing to find. There is never anything to find.

She is alone, and something is with her, and nothing has ever been on the ship.

She tries to call upon her demon, but it isn't part of her anymore.

She wishes her demon was still here. She is terrified that her demon is still here.

She opens her eyes to a knock at her door, and the dream fades from her memory. She can feel the demon tugging at the edges of her mind again. She ignores it.

"Open door." She says, and the door opens, and the human pokes her head in sheepishly.

"Heyyy, um, boss wanted me to make sure you eat?" The human says, unsure of herself. "I brought you the blue nutrient paste, she said you like that one?"

"I don't like food." She says in response, but she pokes the straw into the pack and drinks it slowly. It tastes like ash in her mouth.

"Yeah, she uh, she said that's why I have to watch and make sure you eat. If that's okay."

The human is new to this, she thinks this is a quirk of hers and not something that happens to all conduits.

"It's fine. It's procedure."

She takes another sip. She is starving. This will not sate her.

"Why's that?"

The human is, if she's being honest, probably not qualified for her position. A weapons tech should know these things.

"Becoming soulbound to a demon results in complete loss of mortal appetite within 18 months in almost 100% of cases. To prevent physical degradation, conduits must be forced to eat regularly."

"…Mortal appetite?"

Another slow sip.

"We crave blood."

"Oh. So that's, that's an all the time thing?"

"Yes." She says, nodding solemnly.

"…Do you want some?"

"Always."

The human takes out a pen knife and cuts her fingertip, offers it to her.

She takes it into her mouth. The trickle of blood is ambrosia to her twisted senses. Her demon digs it's claws into her, eager for more.

She releases the human's finger and replaces it with her straw. The last dregs of nutrient paste make her want to puke.

"Thank you. I'd like to get more sleep now."

"Yeah, sure. I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

The door closes and she climbs back into her bed. A fortress of blankets and plush toys quiets her mind enough to drift back into the dream.

The human's taste lingers on her tongue.

She is alone, and she is never alone.

~~~

The human keeps coming back on meal duty, eager to talk.

"So this is uh, the second ship I've been stationed on, and the other one was a human ship so this is all pretty different."

"Mm."

She sips her nutrient paste under the human's watchful eye. This is likely not the kind of work she signed up for.

"How many ships have you been on?"

The human makes a habit of asking things that she shouldn't. She could very easily tell the captain that the human is unfit for duty, with how little she seems to understand of her work.

"I am the Ivy Cudgel's weapon."

"So you never worked on any other ships while you were training?" The human asks, not understanding.

She slurps the last of the disgusting paste through her straw.

"Blood."

"Oh, sure."

The human cuts her finger once again, allowing her to drink from the wound. The crimson fluid washes the awful taste from her mouth, and she feels a little less tired.

"I have spent my entire life aboard the Ivy Cudgel." She elaborates, in exchange.

"What? Why?"

"Conduction is a multi-layered process. The demon is bound to the ship, the demon is bound to me, ergo I am bound to the ship."

"Okay, uh, why?"

"If the demon were bound solely to me, I couldn't exert it's influence beyond what I'm aware of. If the demon were bound solely to the ship, it would be… haunted, for lack of a better term."

"So like, what do you get out of it?"

She definitely shouldn't ask that.

"It is a great honor to be born into the service of the fleet." She says. And then, when the human looks unconvinced, she gestures around her room and adds: "I am well compensated. I want for nothing."

"You don't want to like. Leave?"

"Ohhhh no. No. No no no."

She shakes her head.

"I have a drone that I can fly around when we're docked and even that is… overstimulating. I can leave, there are ritual procedures that facilitate it, I just don't want to."

The human still looks unconvinced.

"You've never even wanted to go out like, on a date?"

Why does the human ask her such strange things?

"Why would I go out on a date?"

"…Like if there's someplace romantic, you and the boss-"

"Me and the boss?" She repeats, flabbergasted.

"Y-Yeah? Because- You, you kissed that one time?"

"I've never kissed anyone???"

Her demon loves this, because it knows she hates it.

"You, you did though, you and-"

"The demon did that! I don't want to kiss my boss!"

"O-Okay, I didn't mean-"

"Get out!" She screeches, and the human scrambles away.

Her face feels hot as the doors slide shut.

The human thinks- Ugh!

Why was she talking to her so much then, if not-

She slumps back into bed and squeezes a stuffed elk.

Stupid human.

~~~

Piloting her drone around the spaceport market, the warlock finds herself sending a request for assistance to the human against her better judgment. It doesn't take long for her to arrive.

"What's wrong?" She asks, eager to please.

She's been cold to the human, these past few feedings. It's making her act strange, desperate to rebuild their relationship.

"Carry this." She says, and her droid's mechanical arm points at a large plushie of a creature native to the planet, something between a walrus and a bear.

"Oh." The human says, grabbing it. "Is that all?"

"Yes. I would carry it myself but I don't want it to drag on the ground."

She pilots the drone to the checkout and transfers payment, then hovers away, human and plushie in tow.

"So, uh, about the other day-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

It is… unfair, of her, to remain mad at the human. She didn't understand the distinction between her and the demon, it was not a moral failing or an intentional slight.

She floats into another store, peruses their selection of games.

"Right, uh, we don't have to talk about it. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I uh, I misunderstood."

"You did."

"Yeah. And uh, I made things weird. And I would like things to not be weird."

The warlock would… also like things to not be weird, really. The human is on meal duty regardless of either of their feelings on the matter, any weirdness is going to be constantly out in the open.

"Speak no more of it then." She says, plucking a holodisc from the display and stashing it into a small compartment on the drone as she transfers credits to the clerk. "Accompany me as I return to the ship."

The drone can return autonomously, but the human is… peculiar. She shouldn't be here, she doesn't know what she's meant to be doing, and that makes her beguiling. The ship is her domain, she knows every inch of it's corridors, every scratch on it's hull as if it were her own skin. The crew behaves predictably, orderly, disciplined, except for the human.

She wants to understand her.

"Tell me, how did you come to work on the Ivy Cudgel?"

"Oh, uh, exchange program as part of the alliance. Humans go work on elf vessels, elves go work on human vessels, we all get a little more used to having aliens around."

"I'm aware, I meant you specifically."

"I dunno, seemed interesting I guess? See a new culture, or whatever."

"And do you find it interesting?"

"Sure. I mean, it's not super different, aside from all the magic stuff."

"You don't have magic on earth?"

"We have the concept, but like, we didn't think it was real."

"How did you become slipspace capable without magic?"

"I dunno, it's not my field. Some physics thing."

"How strange." The elf said, thinking. "No magic at all?"

"None. I mean they're probably working on it now, now that we know, but-"

A harsh gust of wind cuts her off, blowing out the drone's microphone and sending it spinning. Her viewport sweeps over the open sky, the massive skyport, the endless miles of city below.

She suddenly feels very ill.

"I-I-" She stammers, struggling to breathe. She wrenches the control helmet from her head and looks around her room, her four walls, safe and known and hers. "I'm setting the droid to autopilot. I have to lie down." She says, flicking a switch and leaving her desk before the human can answer.

She slumps into bed and covers her head with a pillow. She is inside. She knows the ship. She is the ship. Her demon creeps out of the back of her mind, sensing her agitation. It makes her feel strong when she is weak, brave when she is afraid. It is her only-

Her door slides open.

"Are you okay!?" Comes a voice, along with rapid footsteps. The human is in her room, panting from exertion after running all the way here. She places the walrus-bear into her bed and touches her shoulder gently.

The human is new. The human is an unknown factor. The human is in her room.

"Leave!" She hisses. She doesn't like change. The human is in her room.

"Okay, of course-" The human says, and she scurries away.

"W-Wait."

Her footsteps pause.

The human is trying. The human is in her room. The human doesn't know any better. The human is leaving her room because she asked, because she didn't know.

"Th-Thank you. for trying to help." She says. "But leave."

"Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow." The human says.

And then she is gone.

The elf clutches her new plushie and cries until they leave port, until she is safe in the void again.

~~~

Someone knocks on the warlock's door, and she opens it and finds that it is not the human, but her medical officer.

"Evaluation day?" She asks, her mood sinking.

"Evaluation day." The doctor confirms. "May I come in?"

"Of course."

The warlock sits on her bed, grabbing a large stuffed shark from among her things and clutching it close to her chest, resting her chin on its snout.

"Relax, sweetie." The doctor says, trying to reassure her. "We do this every four months, you know it's not a big deal."

It is a big deal, because this is the part where the doctor asks her questions and most of them are easy but some of them are hard and the doctor always just nods blankly at whatever she says and writes it down, never telling her if she's behaving normally or if she's going to be decommissioned for suspected possession risk.

"We'll start with the systems checks, okay? There's an asteroid field to our starboard side, tell me how many objects are within your range."

She closes her eyes, and lets the line between her and the ship and the demon blur.

"Twenty-three." She says.

"Mhm. Destroy the object at 290 -051 368, please."

The ship pinpoints the relative coordinates, she gives the go ahead, and her demon crushes the asteroid like it's a glass bauble.

Blood trickles from her nose and drips onto the shark.

"Destruction confirmed, thank you. You may return to your body."

The medical officer offers her a tissue to wipe away the blood.

"Now, I have just a few questions for you about the past few months." She says, and the warlock squeezes the shark tighter because this is the awful part. "Have you been eating?"

"Yes."

"Exercising?"

"I… take walks." The warlock says.

"How often, and what distance?" The doctor asks, writing on her terrible notepad.

"A few times a week, and I don't know. I just wander."

"Wander where?"

The warlock wishes she had a good answer. There's nothing wrong with just walking around aimlessly, but everything she does needs to be scrutinized because there's a demon in her head. It's oppressive.

"C Deck, mostly. I just walk around the halls until I want to stop."

"Okay." The doctor says, and she writes in silence for a long moment. "There was a recent staffing change, per our alliance with the humans. An engineer, Faye Hoffman, has been assigned to you, correct?"

It occurs to the warlock that she has never asked the human her name.

She doesn't have a name, but she should still try to learn other people's. She'll apologize for being rude, next time she sees her.

"Correct."

"Has she made any attempts to interfere with your work in any way?" The doctor asks, clinical.

"No?"

"Is that a question?" She asks pointedly, looking for something in her response.

"No, I just wonder why you would ask that."

"There have been concerns raised that Miss Hoffman is unfit for duty. Do you agree with this?"

"No." The warlock lies, and immediately becomes very nervous because she has never felt the need to lie before.

"Elaborate." The doctor prompts, clicking her pen.

"She performs her duties adequately." The warlock says, which isn't really a lie if she thinks about it. "Menial tasks, mostly. Meal duty. Hostile engagements are a rarity, and I am insensate during them, but we have suffered no breaches."

The doctor nods, and writes, and reveals nothing.

"Okay, that's all for right now." She says, and she leaves the warlock alone in her room.

The warlock is loyal. This is her ship, she can say that more truly than even the captain. If the human were a problem-

Well, she isn't.

Not worth thinking about.

The warlock pulls a blanket over herself and her bloodstained shark and drifts to sleep.

#elf #demons

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safety-pin-punk · 1 year ago

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hello - i have recently been making some patch pants and I think they're going pretty well, but I haven't really used any punk bands at all (there's the slits, patti smith, hole, pj harvey, my bloody valentine, sonic youth, einsturzende neubaten, & radiohead so far) so they look punk but actually kind of are not. they are all artists I love which I feel is the whole point (and more or less punk-adjacent most of them), but I also feel like a lot of people would say it's posing or appropriating punk culture? there aren't a lot of punks where I live mostly metalheads and emos haha so it's probably not much of an issue but I was wondering if its like... okay to not have lots of *exclusively traditional punk* patches?

i haven't had the nerve to wear them anywhere yet

also thank you for your blog it's very cool :)

To my knowledge, patch pants have stemmed from the crust punk world and breached containment.

Personally, I don’t see a problem with your pants, as long as you like them, thats what matters! I think as long as you aren’t specifically trying to pass them as ‘crust’ pants, you are good to go (unless they eventually actually become crust pants lol).

For the people who may call you a poseur: Are you a punk? Yes? Then fuck them and their opinions, they are assholes. No? Then you aren’t a poseur, that simple

For the people who say you are appropriating punk culture: That literally isn’t a thing and if someone says it is, then know absolutely nothing about punk. Punk is about DIY, its about taking care of your community, its about standing up for whats right. Those arent things to be gatekept. And I have never met a punk who wasnt excited to share these things with others, even if those people werent ‘punks’

#mail tag

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asimplearchivist · 10 months ago

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(This has been sitting in my drafts long enough…my fear of mischaracterizing Astarion is lesser than the agitation of seeing this beast among my WIPs. @fangswbenefits I’m affectionately blaming you for giving me pale elf brain rot🫣)

Okay guys this may be a very niche concept that will appeal to maybe like two people total but it hasn’t left my mind since I mentioned the idea to a buddy of mine who convinced me to play bg3…(Cullen and Astarion have a lot of similarities, which I would love to elaborate on later, but…) hear me out—it could be a very interesting dynamic to play with in a crossover.

Headcanons under the cut:

I’m not usually one for crossovers unless they’re in self-contained within a fandom (like Pokémon or Dragon Age, for example—there’s a phenomenal fic called The Half-Life of Element Zero by @unhealthynpcobsession which is a DAI/MEA crossover and safely one of the only “cross-fandom” crossovers I genuinely enjoy and adore bc the story and concepts are contextually sound and professionally orchestrated), but I feel like the sheer numbers of DAI fanfiction that explore the concept of the Breach opening up portals into other worlds (namely our modern Earth, thus the Modern Girl in Thedas trope, my beloved) could include adjacent worlds. I believe I have seen Skyrim before, so why not Baldur’s Gate 3? (Now keep in mind I know next to nothing about BG3 bc I am newly introduced to its lore and everything but) I think one could easily get away with having Astarion somehow slip through the Breach, along with the Sole Survivor at the Conclave.

(Holy shit why did this turn out so fucking long?)

The Survivor wakes—chained, cold, and aching—in the cells beneath the chantry, interrogated by Cassandra and Leliana, and denies her involvement with the Temple’s destruction. Forced to cooperate with the Survivor due to their dire need for the Mark and its potential use related to the Rifts, Cassandra casts a scowl at Leliana. “I will escort the prisoner if you will deal with the pale elf.”

Leliana only responds mildly, “I will continue to deal with him as I have been for the last three days—as well as nurse the migraine that he has caused.”

The Survivor doesn’t meet this esteemed “pale elf” until the battle at the Temple, and she only sees him from afar—he accompanied Leliana’s men to deal with the array of Shades and Wraiths that speckled the cratered grounds while the rest picked away at gargantuan Pride. She notices he is masterfully skilled with his weapons, perhaps even peculiarly so—she also notices that he has far greater strength, agility, and stamina than the average elf, easily surpassing the abilities of his peers.

She doesn’t see him again until well after the dust has settled—the Breach has been patched, Haven is able to reassess themselves, and the new Inquisition begins to construct their foundation. The newly named Herald of Andraste attempts to escape it all, fleeing into the grounds beyond Haven’s gates under the guise of fulfilling favors and errands for the various supervisors in the village, and stumbles across an abandoned cabin in the forest—at least she thought it was abandoned, at first.

She’s rummaging through the things there, finds the passed healer’s notes, but the lightest creak of displaced wood behind her tips her off to the presence of another. She whirls, hand already flying to her weapon, and backs up against the table, sending things clattering to the floor. The pale elf stands there, smirking at her startle.

“Act all the victim when you intrude on my space,” he croons, tilting his head and tutting at her, “my, how manners seem hard to come by around here.”

“You’re that—” She stops, hesitates, starts again. “Sister Leliana mentioned you. You’re the only other one who survived the blast.”

“That is comparatively the least of my problems and only the beginning of my present predicament, yes.” His eyes—as brilliant a crimson as the blood that still crusts the wounds that litter her bruised, battered, borderline broken body—scan her form from top to bottom, pause on her bandaged hand, and return to meet her uneasy gaze with a considerate one of his own. “Although I’m afraid I can confidently say that I ended up with the better of the lots drawn between the two of us.” His expression relaxes, just a little, a thready furrow forming between his silverite brows. “Does that hurt?”

She clenches her fist and clenches her teeth. “It’s dismissible.”

“Considering I heard tell that it is in the process of consuming you, I would disagree—but, I digress!” He flashes her a toothy smirk. “I am just grateful that there are no longer demons spewing out of that torn arsehole in the sky.”

She stares at him for a long moment, uncertain what to say in response. She’s exhausted, sore, and reeling from the last week of utter unfortunate bullshit that had befallen her.

“You’re…rather tall, for an elf,” she finally says lamely.

His brows arch into his forehead in clear surprise before he tips his head back and laughs. It exposes his teeth, and…no, those were not fangs. It must have been a trick of the firelight.

“It does seem that my kindred, however distantly related they are, do not possess as generous of traits as I,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “All so thin and lithe and…well, diminutive…it’s truly a marvel how they’re able to get anything done without breaking their hollow little bones. It’s little wonder that they seem so afraid of everyone else around here.”

She frowns, echoing, “‘Distantly related’?” with some dubiousness.

“Oh, your lovely spymaster didn’t tell you? I’m shocked.” The stranger gestures to himself with his arms extended to either side. “You have my sincerest apologies, my dear, I haven’t even introduced myself—I complain of lack of manners, yet fail to offer them in due turn.” He dips at the waist briefly, eyes glittering through his frosty lashes. “My name is Astarion, and…to put it simply, I am not supposed to be here.”

“I imagine anyone is fortunate to have walked away from all that destruction unscathed,” she responds mildly, narrowing her eyes.

“How cute,” he simpers, straightening and bracing his hands on his hips. “I fail to possess sufficient enough knowledge of magic in order to explain how in the hells this happened, exactly, but I originate from a place called Faerûn—not your delightfully archaic ‘Thedas’.”

He goes on to ramble about his companions, at least two of whom would have been far better suited to hypothesize how to rectify this particular ‘magical’ predicament. He tells her about their unusual circumstances of being thrust together, forced to cooperate and work towards fixing their looming health issues and the threat that faces their world.

She studies him for a long moment after he finishes. “…It sounds as if you and I are trapped in similar problems,” she sighs, rubbing her face. “As incredible as this all sounds, I sincerely doubt such a story could be easily invented on the spot…so you have my sympathies. Do you think that you’ll be able to return home?”

“Sister Leliana introduced me to that lovely gentleman who dresses like a vagrant. Supposedly, he’s the resident authority on this…‘Fade magic’, as it were?” he surmises.

“So I’ve heard,” she responds.

“Yes, well, our conversation was cut rather short at the time due to him being rather persistent in keeping his eye on that little souvenir.”

She flexes her hand and glances away. She’s been doing her damnedest not to dwell on the burning in her palm, thank you very much, and she didn’t particularly want to discuss it, either.

“Nevertheless,” he continues lightly, although his tone tempers into something more neutral, “he promised that he would look into the issue.”

“That’s…that’s good,” she replies quietly. “I hope he finds a way to send you back.”

The pale elf tilts his head at her then, eyes contemplative when she looks back up. He offers her a thin-lipped smile—this one actually reaches his eyes, softening his angular features. “As much as I am grateful not to be in your position, I do apologize. It would seem that the weight of your new moniker is not one to be taken lightly.”

“It is what it is,” she grits out. “They will believe what they wish regardless of my input.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.” He leans in, holding her stare. “…I think it best to remain nearby, for the time being. Sole survivors of a devastating explosion still under scrutiny by those newly in power ought to stick together, yes?”

She relaxes, just slightly. “As long as you’re not the one who caused all of this.”

His expression sobers enough that it jars her. “I am the least inclined to cause spontaneous combustion among my compatriots,” he tells her, attempting humor, but there’s something in his eyes that contrasts his words entirely—a lingering fear, apprehension, borderline horror, if she has to place a name on it. “But no. I did not. And I think I have a few choice words—and daggers—on reserve for whoever did cause all of this devastation. I never asked to be thrown into the middle of this refuse burn.”

“Neither did I.” She offers him a bow in return and gives him her name. “I would say it’s been pleasant to make your acquaintance, but…I think we both are allowed to say that we would rather not have met at all.”

“Agreed.” He stoops to pick up the papers Adan had sent her to find and hands them to her. “I trust I will see you again soon?”

“You do intend to stay?” she asks, brow furrowing as she tucks them into her pocket.

“I’ve nowhere else to go,” he begins, “and fleeing from an investigation would provide rather damning evidence for the prosecution, even if misused. For now I’ll lend my particular set of skills and…services to this delightful little collection of vagabonds. I think you need all the help you can get, given that poor, overworked general of yours is relying on farmers and pilgrims to become your armed force.”

“I don’t speak on behalf of the others,” she says, “but I thank you. You’re greatly appreciated.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he purrs. “Now…do go get some rest, my dear. You look positively horrible for someone who has slept for nearly six days.”

His nonchalant sincerity startles a laugh out of her—the first in what felt like an age. He seems pleased to have done so. She departs the cabin feeling slightly less isolated than before.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #dragon age #dai #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #headcanons #mine #reader insert #astarion/reader #astarion ancunin/reader #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #dragon age inquisition #fisara's scrawlings #fisara's codices

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theamityelf · 9 months ago

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I know we touched on it before but I kinda see the virus in your undead au mutating everyone but having it play out like pokemon evolution. Picture this, the more they use their talents to hunt the more their bodies would change to suit their strategy. It would be subtle at first like Aoi's hands and feet becoming a bit webbed but not noticeable unless you really look close enough and as it continues their features would become more noticeable. Anyways that was my two cents, what do you think?

Ooh, that's really cool! This feels like something that would lead into all the undead breaching containment (of the classroom, not the campus) and Makoto and Nagito having to find them all, in their disparate environments. Straight up video game plot of "Okay! Next we have to find Sayaka in the music room, but be careful; those high notes are killer!"

Hina's in the pool, and she's got gills now. How do you catch an undead Ultimate Swimmer who now has gills and webbed feet/hands? By knowing her really well. (Not elaborating on that, right now; I'm just playing in the space, lol.)

Also, I just imagined Akane with Elastigirl powers, which is officially not canon to this, because the body horror implied by that is terrifying. (I don't know what to do with Akane, because the game's beast-like imagery for her already strikes me as somewhat racist. And also she seems to have already maxed out on parkour skills, lol. Her Pokemon evolution is that she finds some roller skates.) Maybe claws? For climbing? And her bones do change to improve her flexibility. Maybe slitted pupils- Oh no, I'm making Catra, now.

Ultimate Imposter does get camouflage powers, though. He eats whatever Ibuki stuns with her music. I'm thinking Ibuki can make sonic blasts with her mouth. And yes, those two are still together. It's beneficial to the lucksters, because they would never find Imposter if Ibuki weren't with him. Unless there was something serious happening.

#danganronpa #undead au #mutating undead au #aoi asahina #sayaka maizono #akane owari #ultimate imposter #ibuki mioda #twobuki

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i-have-dots-in-my-brain · 9 months ago

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its time to explain my persona lol

my persona is an eldritch god that can travel through universes and draw things into existence (ik its mary sue but LET ME HAVE THIS)

okay lemme explain a little. persona (i'll just call them that bcus im lazy) was made up of the code and pixels of a secret joke boss in a video game (the boss having said powers of my persona). but they never made it into the game, but combined with raw, human emotional chaos (idk why that was there) somwhere in the universe

eventually, they mushed into my persona! me, basically. nuke (the tiger) is my familiar that i summon with my tablet pen that turns into my battle axe. if my pen runs out of battery, nuke starts fading into lower frame rates and eventually disappears (he runs out of animation frames, those frames are powered by the pen)

my persona has been spotted in many worlds( my hyperfixation's worlds), they consider the characters to be part of the story, watching them for their own interest. they usually don't help out unless they're motivated by unknown reasons (me crying bcs THAT CHARACTER DID NOT DESERVE THAT) or to make the story more interesting

they can make worlds or humans/things if they wanted to. they like to tell stories and like talking to people

right now, this is how my persona is involved with my hyperfixations:

SCP : they're an scp that the O-5 council finds troublesome. humanoid scp that gets special rights because they can end the world (did i mention they can do that?). they know a lot about everyone in the foundation (bcus i read the files) they escape whenever there's already a containment breach happening and they mostly use the time to explore the facility without restriction. so far, they've had a therapy session with Dr Glass (ended with more questions and them eating the recording tape, but went well), pissed off Dr Clef and eaten one of Dr Kondraki's butterflies. they have a lot of knowledge of classified stuff. 423 mentions them being a fun story partner.

hetalia : ITS THE REAL WORLD THEY'RE ME LIVING NORMALLY

genshin : random traveler (not THE traveler) that runs around being weird (everyone hates them) stealing shit and making the archons pissed (they're a god that survived the archon war by sleeping through it in a cave, they didn't even realise the war happened lol)

ddlc : they're a background random classmate that sleeps in the back of the literature club classroom (they never interact with anyone and monika doesn't delete them) in the ending, you can't find their character file. if you ask the other club members about them here are their responses : natsuki "Oh them? they just snooze here like a lazy bum! ...but they like manga too, which is nice." yuri "...I think I take english class with them. I didn't notice they slept here afterschool. I wonder what kinds of dreams they're having." monika "you mean the student sleeping in the back? they're not important." sayori "oh, I never noticed them before! aren't they cold? we should bring a blanket for them next time!"

Demon Slayer : they're a background slayer. apparently they didn't even join the corps. they just walked out of the final selection forest and stole a kasugai crow. their weapon is a battle axe. it's unknown if it's made from nichirin or not. a lot of the corp members think they're a demon. muzan mentions them as a pest and a hinderance (they saw the blue spider flowers and went munch munch just when muzan showed up) at the end of the final battle, you can see them chilling on a boat (presumably headed back to china????) they don't speak, and they write their name in chinese.

apothecary diaries : they're in the background of all the cases maomao solves. maomao feels like there's someone watching her, but not with malicious intent. they're not a servant and dress in more northern fashion (like from ancient beijing) and they wear shorts. their silhouette can be seen in scenes with windows. it's mentioned that they visited the lotus house and visited the three princesses (but they didn't do anything and just talked a lot the entire time while talking to the princesses) granny thought they were a weirdo, looking too young to visit a brothel, but accepted it cuz they were paying a lot.

PJO : weirdo demigod that dionysus seems to find sus. participated in all of the battles (group ones with the entire camps). the rest of the camp theorises about what they are (they don't live in any of the cabins) no one know's their name. chiron doesn't know about them. during the battle for manhattan they can be seen in the background stealing things from shops. percy notices them at every one of his schools, but they don't go to classes and no one else shows recognition of their prescence.

MASHLE : a bg character that eats cream puffs. nothing else. no mentions other than always being at the cream puff bakery

inside job : everywhere, never talks, always watching

spiderverse : a rando in the spiderverse. no one know's how they got here. they seem to be pissed at miguel for some reason. they don't have a watch. they're in the chase scene but they just slowly walk as they watch everything (while eating a miguel burger).

HAZBIN : they sleep in one of the hotel's rooms. somehow, no one has noticed. they're in every group scene, usually peeking out from behind something.

helluva : they're at the doctor in s2, ep 4. just napping on one of the chairs.

harry potter : they're sleeping in the chamber of secrets. and in the room of requirement. and at the train station in the last book where dumbledore is. and flashbacks. just sleepin.

thats around it lol

#my persona #lore

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sizzlingchaosprince · 9 months ago

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|ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ|

Hello! You can call me whatever you like, I just don't know how to call myself and not be cringy XD. Also, I don't speak English well since I'm Kazakh.

In this blog I'll sometimes draw(I'll maybe draw like a toddler, especially when it comes to shades but I'm still learning) and mostly write on my own if I have the energy and I don't have any requests. This is my first time doing such thing so I'm really excited and worried at the same time :')

I'll ask you to be specific on what you request, not just "____ x reader??". I'm just worried about writing/drawing something you won't like and I'm not full of ideas sometimes.

|ʀᴜʟᴇs ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ|

What I WILL write and draw?

• SFW, fluff. It'll be one of the most common things I'll do in this blog

• Angst. I'm okay with depression and self-harm stuff, but DO NOT cross the line

• Yandere stuff, but I'll write/draw without g0re things except some bl00d spots in drawings(but be sure that I'm not good in drawing liquid, especially when it leaks down) and mentions of bl00d and dead c0rpses in writings

• Romantic and platonic writings and drawings, however for some characters I'll accept ONLY PLATONIC requests

• School crushes of child character x child!reader. It'll contain ABSOLUTELY INNOCENT THINGS like holding hands or hugging. I'll put warnings on the characters I'll write such thing

• Drawings and writings as birthday gifts. I can ignore some rules for a birthday gift(I'll write what exactly I'll ignore and which rules I'll still keep), but keep in mind that I'm a human who still has limits and feelings

• Oneshots. But please be specific on what you want

• Character x OC. Again, be specific: what your OC is like, their character, ect.

• The reader of ANY gender. I don't know some genders so I'll do some research on the internet. If you don't like the way I described them, don't be scared to mention it. Even though I write and draw for free, I still want everyone to be comfortable with what I do

• Write/draw 3 characters MAXIMUM. I find it difficult to write and draw multiple characters since I need imagination and energy to do it

What I WILL NOT write and draw?

• NSFW content. I read some of NSFW fanfics, but I'm not quite comfortable with writing it myself

• Character x Character. Exception for birthday kids BUT I don't wanna draw kissing scenes unless it's censored. For example, the scene is censored with a fan

• Any sensitive topics like r@pe and p£d0philia. It's just really one of the worst things I would never write or even think about. Aging up child characters counts as one of sensitive topics since it still means that you're attracted to a child

• Too much g0re. I'm okay with horror movies and games like Poppy Playtime, but I don't feel like writing/drawing it in details

• Change the character's original sexuality. It comes without any exceptions. I respect everyone and every sexuality, including fictional characters

• Poly relationship(Character x reader x character). I don't know how to write it and to be safe and not feel any guilt I won't take any requests relating to this topic

|ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍs ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ/ᴅʀᴀᴡ ꜰᴏʀ|

WARNING: THE CHARACTERS MAY NOT HAVE THEIR CANONICAL PERSONALITY, BUT YOU STILL CAN WRITE COMMENTS ABOUT ANY OF MY ERRORS

• Villainous

5.0.5 is PLATONIC ONLY, everyone else can get ROMANTIC and PLATONIC requests

• FNaF: Security Breach/Security Breach: RUIN

Animatronics will be PLATONIC if the reader will be a human since I'm not pretty sure about robot x human thing. I don't mind writing ROMANTIC stuff if it'll be robot x robot

NO WILLIAM AFTON/SPRINGTRAP/GLITCHTRAP/ANY OTHER -TRAP! I haven't watched all FNaF chapters so the only thing I know surely about William is that he killed children

Gregory can have a school crush on child!reader. But mostly, I'll take only platonic requests

• Brawl Stars

I don't even know about "robot x robot" rule here since Rico has a crush on Piper and maybe other robots have something like that too. I think I'll take human x robot requests but still be thoughtful about what you're asking for. Children are PLATONIC ONLY, exception will be only for teenagers who are old enough to have a school crush

• Poppy Playtime(3 chapters)

I'll do PLATONIC ONLY for Poppy since she is a small doll for children: it's hard for me to see her as a romantic possibility.

As for Smiling Critters, Huggy Wuggy, Mommy Long Legs and ect I'll do ROMANTIC and PLATONIC but without shipping them with human!reader.

• Bendy and the Ink Machine/Dark Revival

Small Bendy will be PLATONIC ONLY since he literally acts and looks like a child. But I don't mind writing ROMANTIC stories for Ink Demon.

• Bendy and Boris: The Quest for The Ink Machine

Everyone can be ROMANTIC and PLATONIC since they've reached 18, but the exception will be Jackpot, any mentioned child and Boris: they're PLATONIC ONLY, but Boris can have a school crush since he's 12 . Felix is staying with his original sexuality: homosexual

• Better Half

I never saw any ____x reader works with this fandom so I wanted to start doing one! Everyone can be PLATONIC and ROMANTIC. I'll consider drawing poly relationship with Happy and Depressed Thiu.

|ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ|

I'll add characters and link for my works here. Be free to request me anything, but still following the rules. If I haven't answered your request for 3 weeks, consider it as a declare. But if I'll write a note that I'm going to disappear for ___ time your request being answered is still an option. Changes in what fandoms I'll write/draw for and change of rules are possible

Poppy Playtime:

The Toy's favorite Child: PLATONIC Cat Nap x child!reader

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ!❤️✨

#poppy playtime x reader #security breach x reader #villainous x reader #brawl stars x reader #bendy and the ink machine #fnf x reader #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine #blog rules #rules for requests #better half #better half x reader

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lieutenanthowell · 9 months ago

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gif credit!

TASK 001. 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚛.

BASICS.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

Guin Cadair Howell

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

Balto, Grizzly Adams, etc. Balto came from his knack with sled dogs (and his tendency to do the head tilt thing). Togo led the hardest leg of that serum run, where's his statue? Where's his fucking Disney movie? There is a Togo movie? Okay. Does he want to watch it? Fuck no. Grizzly Adams was inspired by the fact that despite his "freakass feral survivalist" upbringing, he's entirely incapable of growing a wild-man level beard.

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌

Burn Gorman

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

Scarred up like a fight dog or an old stag - the most immediately noticeable of these are on the left side of his face: a gouge through both lips, another in his eyebrow, and several scattered across his cheek. Callused hands reflecting firearm use, unarmed fighting, and physical labour, with some slight skewing to his little and ring fingers on, again, the left side.

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

Has three color tattoos, all got during his late-teenage years in the army and at least somewhat damaged by injuries sustained in service of the Foundation: a wolf’s head biting a human hand, on his left bicep, a bear’s head with fireweed on his right bicep, and an owl, wings open, across his chest. He’s also got stick and pokes of, on the inside of his left and right forearms, respectively: the constellation Orion, with special emphasis on Mintaka, the first star in the "belt" to rise and set, on the left, and on the right, Cassiopeia, the Little Dipper, and the Big Dipper, with the North Star emphasized between. Done by his dad when he was a kid to help him remember how to navigate by the stars (all of these constellations being useful landmarks). Pierced right ear. Never wears anything in it on duty.

𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁.

45, 06/12/1978

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂

He doesn't know! And doesn't care! I don't know, but I googled! Sagittarius, Earth Horse. Which makes total sense because he can bowhunt AND like a horse he will stomp someone into the earth if he takes the mind to. Am I doing this star thing right -

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍

Doesn't have one. Born somewhere in the Unorganized Borough, Alaska; Galena is listed as place of birth on the paperwork only because that's where his birth certificate was issued.

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

David Howell, father, status unknown; Bronwyn Howell, mother, reported missing in 1987.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒

Cis male / he.

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

Bisexual.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒

Divorced (2014). Single since then. Complicated lately.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒

Focused, practical, perceptive.

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒

Blunt, independent, aloof.

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

Smoking. Scotch, ideally Glenfiddich. Fidgeting with a butterfly knife lifted off a dickhead in Xi-13, carpenter's pencils (he likes the shape better, and does chew the ends), peeling wrappers off things unless the stickiness is the kind that annoys him, swinging keys on lanyards until they wrap around his hand then back the other way, tying knots, and so on. Avoiding eye contact unless absolutely necessary. Stopping at the nearest bathhouse or sauna anywhere in the world there's one available after a shitty day on the job.

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒

Photography. Hiking. Camping. Finding new places to eat and trying every new food he can.

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 (𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄)

None.

THE FOUNDATION.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄

MTF Operative

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍(𝐒)

MTF Operative, primarily, in several MTFs, most notably Gamma-4, "Green Stags" and Beta-777, "Hecate's Spear"; Tactical Response Officer and Security Officer.

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

MTF Xi-13, "Sequere Nos" - Platoon-strength rapid response unit, tasked with responding quickly to dangerous and/or anomalous situations where the threat has not yet been identified but military-grade force is deemed likely, including but not limited to large scale containment and security breaches.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

Marksmanship, combatives including knifework, tracking, and general survivalist skills, including field first aid, hunting, trapping, foraging, rock-climbing, swimming, horseback riding, and dog-mushing.

EXTRAS.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

[Dying Breed] was effectively recruited in the field by MTFC Anatoly Kuryakov, then in command of MTF Delta-14. The Task Force encountered [Dying Breed], then a Private First Class stationed in Fort Wainwright, Alaska, while in pursuit of SCP-121959-1; following an initial interrogation, MTFC Kuryakov employed him as a guide. Impressed by his skills and steadiness, Kuryakov not only neglected to administer any amnestic once SCP-121959-1 was secured, but returned to Site-31 with [Dying Breed] in tow, ready to apply.

Enlisted at only nineteen, [Dying Breed] was cleared for fieldwork by twenty-one after rotations in Security, Parazoology, and Tactical Theology. The record and reputation he has established since is marked by contrasts. He’s exceptionally effective in achieving objectives; like his recruiter, he’s also known to achieve this by bending protocol and sidewinding around orders, and to justify his borderline insubordination without remorse. He has served the Foundation’s purpose to the utmost of his ability and at great personal cost, but actively refuses (and, arguably, sabotages) opportunities for more prestigious promotions. He’s intensely loyal to the few fellow operatives who earn his trust - such as [Elevator Music], with whom he has maintained close contact despite a brief marriage and briefer divorce - but largely keeps to himself, detached and impersonal. It is generally believed that [Dying Breed] is only more disciplined than decorated because of the enemies he’s made throughout his long, tumultuous career. Regular personnel interviews determined that this did not disturb him in the slightest, and that he intended to continue serving until such a point as he was deemed inarguably unfit to do so.

As such, his request for an extended leave of absence was a surprise, even considering the circumstances. The events involved in the Foundation’s encounter with SCP-192001-1, unclear as they remain, are detailed elsewhere. For the purposes of this file, we highlight the following aspects: the alleged violent breakdown of [Live Wire]’s cognitohazard resistance, the alleged friendly-fire wounding of Senior Researcher Tom Dalton, inconsistent eyewitness and medical reports of [Dying Breed]’s own injuries, and [Dying Breed]’s response to descriptions of [Live Wire]’s conduct. [Dying Breed] has never requested extended leave prior to this incident; however, he has also never lost a colleague as close as Senior Researcher Tom Dalton.

(See record of service for assignment history, from 02/12/1999-; see also personnel off-duty surveillance records, from that date. These resources may also be referenced for further information on the relationship, personal and working, of [Dying Breed] and [Elevator Music], who was married to Senior Researcher Dalton at the time of his death.)

Upon emerging from a medically induced coma administered by [Elevator Music], [Dying Breed] completed extended debriefing, a disciplinary hearing re: the unauthorized decommission of SCP-192001-1, and an application for leave, to begin immediately. All three were resolved to the satisfaction of the Foundation. His last known location, prior to his timely return for post-leave assessment, was Fairbanks International Airport, Alaska. Routine attempts to monitor his movements between 18/12/2022 and 24/01/2024 proved largely unsuccessful; his activities during this time remain of special interest, as do any medical reports, interpersonal complaints, and/or other assessments in relation to this operative.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Old... Friends? Frenemies? Fuck-Yous? Foundation acquaintance. Guin's been on staff at the Foundation since he was nineteen, so, math, that's... twenty-six years. Any characters who've been around the place that long, especially if they were at all involved with MTFs Delta-14, Gamma-4 or Xi-13, could have run into him and that could've gone... however it did! Up for anything, here - positive, negative, long-term or one-time-only. How did they leave whatever it was they had going on, dynamic wise? How's it feel, to be face to face again on a new Mobile Task Force, and such a fraught one, at that? Stop. Stop It. Unlikely friend. Whoever this is, for one reason or another, they've decided they've got a bone to pick with the old dog. What that means is up to you - well-intentioned badgering, mutual friction that just won't quit, some hierarchical crap, anything that strikes your fancy! Whatever their reason or tactics, he'll weather it with that weird motherfucking zen of his, which could easily be mistaken for tolerance, fondness, dismissal, or something else it's probably not. But might be. Who knows? Maybe not even him. Don't ask. Team Spirit. Fellow antisocial bastard OR pain in the ass. Guin is, usually, a functional loner; he works with a team more than within one, and this tends to get stood for by superiors given the nature of his skills and usual role. But MTF Chi-00 isn't likely to leave him the same degree of license. Open to characters who are similarly not into that OR a total keener for the whole team bonding... thing. Hoo Hoo, Motherfucker. A fellow night owl, mutually putting up with something like company. Isn't this nice? Not really talking. In the near-total dark. Several yards apart. Fantastic. It'd be a real shame if somebody ruined this by saying some weird shit about how the last job went. Yeah, better not. The Unkickable Puppy. What am I saying - he'd never kick a dog. But this junior team member has, somehow, wound up in Guin's good books. Maybe he just likes the cut of their jib. Maybe they're actually an absolute goddamn liability in his eyes and he's sick of it, but their wet cat levels are so off the charts that he can't manage to come down too hard on them. Either way, they need a hand with those ropes. Regrettably, he might be that. Don't Feed the - Things. SCP sympathizer. It'd be easy to assume certain things about Guin's perspective on SCPs based on his job description and certain rumours, but - you know what they say about assuming. Nonetheless, he's also lost a hell of a lot to the damage an unsecured, uncontained anomaly can do. The tension here, between a sympathizer's well-meant, humane compassion and his hard-headed, pragmatic drive to protect what he can is going to result in some fantastic fires, no doubt!!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒

Broken Ace, Brutal Honesty, Combat Pragmatist, Conditioned to Accept Horror, Crazy Survivalist, I Did What I Had To Do, Kick the Son of a Bitch, Loners Are Freaks, No Social Skills, Old Soldier, Pet The Dog, Sergeant Rough, Thousand-Yard Stare, The Unfettered, Unreliable Narrator, What You Are in the Dark, and others REDACTED for spoilers.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Rust Cohle (True Detective), Amos Burton (The Expanse), Nikolai (Eastern Promises), Dick Proenneke, Wooded Landscape in Snow by Ludvig Munthe, The Wolf by Alfred Wierusz-Kowalski, Man Proposes, God Disposes by Edwin Landseer, New Moon by David Lados, The Ritual, The Blair Witch Project, and others REDACTED for spoilers.

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒

#fhq.prompt #fhq.guin #parental death tw #death tw #just mentions/imagery but!!

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breaddo · 9 months ago

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okay post-containment breach reblog spree is over. unless anything insane happens tomorrow we should return to the usual amount of stupid italianmusicposting, which is that this is my house and i do whatever i want and it will happen again when i go back to crying over a new photo of ermal or something

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ponds-of-ink · 1 year ago

Note

So, what are your overall thoughts on Ruin? I liked most of it, but I found the ending way too abrupt. (Spoilers below)

Also, I much as I want to like the Mimic , I can’t. All of its backstory is contained not in the game, but in a series of books, whose canonicity is in doubt. There are just too many questions that it being Burntrap raises.

Okay, here’s my TL;DR since I’ve just now gotten to this ask.

Ruin was definitely a step up from Security Breach. The tension was great, the answers we did get were amazing (and just a tad bit cathartic, given how so many people were speculating on certain topics), and the game actually managed to make me feel bad for Cassie at one point. It actually got emotional for a second.

As for the Mimic, you’ve got a point. It’s an absolute bummer that his part of the story that we’ve gotten so far is from the books.. Unless this is another “Silver Eyes foreshadowed the identity of Purple Guy in Sister Location” situation, which is also possible.

Honestly, I just want some concrete closure for my guy William. I’m holding out a little for Help Wanted 2 to give something about him post- or pre-UCN, but I’m having to hold myself back from going into overdrive. At least we might get one last farewell from Scraptrap...

#william afton #fnaf ruin #fnaf help wanted 2 #personal review #fnaf ruin spoilers #ask answered #and now I’ve bummed myself out with that last paragraph

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lunarblazes · 3 years ago

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OKAY.

this post is for appreciation of fan creators in the last life/third life community. you all are the BACKBONE of our community for REAL.

ever made art? written an analysis or fic? edited something together? drawn up an animation or animatic? taken a survey (shoutout to kel sprucewoodmpreg specifically, creator of the now-infamous Whoreslut Survey)? come up with just A Concept, an au, a headcanon, and let it sit in your brain for months?

CONGRATS, YOU’RE A FAN CREATOR!

all fan creators in this community are so adored and so beloved. i am kissing you metaphorically and platonically. you are all so talented, creative, and wonderful. the containment breaches recently may have been a big joke on my blog and a little scary, but the fact is that the content creators who make this series wouldn’t be purposefully digging through a random dead website like tumblr if they didn’t absolutely love what we create. we’ve trended last life so many times, it even got to the week in review trending last week! on web stuff, it was just below crit role and dsmp.

and i love the stuff we create too! so i have made the (possibly stupid) decision to try and encourage lesser-known creators to share their ideas with a little weekly event on my blog. other blogs can and are encouraged to participate in this, too, but only if they choose! somehow i’ve managed to become a decently sized blog in the trafficblr fandom, so, i thought there’d be no better place to host this than right here on my blog.

what is this weekly event, you may be asking. what do i have to do?

the event will be called…

THE TRAFFICBLR CREATOR GAMES

(unless that conflicts with something else, it’s a work in progress lmao).

detailed rules under the cut! it got a little long lol

all that you must do is tag any piece of fan work for the last life/third life fandom with the tag “trafficblr creator games!” what i’ll do is, every friday, i’ll go through the tag and reblog every new post that i see. i’ll go on tag rambles, i’ll have a specific tag for it on my blog in case anyone wants to peruse my commentary. i’ll always reblog it (given that it doesn’t violate my blog boundaries, which is to say that it’s not sexual or shipping content. just a personal preference. you guys are still cool and valid i just don’t want that on my blog)!

my hopes are that this little event will coax lesser-known or intimidated blogs into the fanwork circle, and let me see WONDERFUL pieces from them as well as the more well-known blogs in trafficblr! again, all of you guys can feel free to participate in this event as either a creator or a platform, but there is absolutely no pressure for either. it’d be really cute if this became a Real Fandom Thing, but i’ve made it just so i can be really excited over something when the end of the week recording fear hits hehe!

as a fan creator myself, i always get super happy when people reblog my stuff with excited tags! i know an event like this would make me so much more confident in posting my stuff, and i just want everyone to feel welcome in our content creating community. we’re all so talented, so skilled, and even if you don’t create anything, this is absolutely a way you could contribute. artists have struggled with getting enough encouragement and engagement on tumblr because likes do not help visibility at all, and so encouraging with an event that is explicitly meant to give them reblogs seems like a great way to keep creators motivated and excited about starting new projects.

i do want to make it clear really quickly that you should NOT be pushing yourself to get content out “in time” for this event! if you do that, i will give you a little bonk on the head. there’s no rush, no hurry, and no worries! do not put pressure on yourself for something fun like this. there’s no deadline. it continues as long as i want it to and as long as others decide to do it.

TL;DR (because this got way longer than i thought it was going to):

i’m hosting a third life/last life fan content displaying event on my blog every friday starting this week!

to enter, simply use the tag trafficblr creator games

i’ll reblog everything in the tag with rambly tags and encouragement (barring sexual or shipping content, which you’re still welcome to post there! i’m just not going to be rbing it because it’s not something i personally want on my blog)

ALL types of fan content are welcome! fics, analysis, art, music, poetry, headcanons, edits— anything!

do NOT put pressure on yourself to deliver content every week. if you do this i’ll bonk you with the self-care stick

any blog is welcome to participate in the event as either a creator or platform! go wild with it :^D

please don’t use the tags for unrelated things! i love all the fanwork but unless it’s for last life or third life don’t post it in the tag, and if it’s just a normal post please don’t put it in the tag. we don’t want it to get overshadowed with unrelated posts please!

if you need clarification on anything or have any suggestions before the reblogging starts, shoot me an ask! i’m always happy to help!

posting in the tag can occur any day of the week, it’s just that the reblogs for the event will take place exclusively on fridays. just so i don’t have too much to spread out over the week!

GOOD LUCK EVERYONE, HAPPY CREATING, AND WELCOME TO THE GAMES! I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING EVERYONE IN THE TAG.

MUAHAHAHA (sounds of my evil little positivity post)

#trafficblr creator games #last life #last life smp #3rd life #3rd life smp #crossing my fingers that this works #i REALLY want people to participate in this i just wanna look upon the Wonderful Content #seeing a bunch of posts about how important engagement is and my own experience made me go Hmmmmm. I Could. Do This #i know it’s last life day rn but i had this idea and just went apeshit with it AHAKDJS

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shushiyuii · 3 years ago

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Subject R4NB00 and Subject T3CHN0 (Part 3 of Subject T0M Au)

AAAAAA Part 3! I Hope you guy’s enjoy Phil’s story!

Warnings: Fighting (It’s a misunderstanding) and mentions of fearplay

Words: 1.3K

Document – Subject R4NB00 and Subject T3CHN0

Assigned to: Doctor Philza Watson (High standing)

R4NB00 is a tall humanoid standing above 8 ft tall. They have a black and white fur coat, a thin fur coat to be described as silky. Their coat is black on one side and white on the other, their hair is the same but in the opposite way to his fur.

They have heterochromia in their eyes, one being green and the other a bright red. They also have horns of small height; they aren’t sharp and rather small so they wouldn’t hurt anybody with them. They also have a thin tail, with it being fluffy at the end.

Subject R4NB00 isn’t the biggest fan of the regular attire assigned to all subjects, they rather wear a tuxedo embedded with the facility’s logos. They are also timid, avoiding conflict whenever possible. They also can speak but prefer not to due to being shy, they will only communicate with a select few.

Their abilities consist of having the ability to teleport at will and communicate in an unknown language. They also have weaknesses being unable to touch the water and having a state of mind of when they aren’t in control of themselves, they talk in their unknown language in this state and teleport randomly, they are to be awoken as soon as possible unless they are in this state for a test.

Subject T3CHN0, also known as Technoblade or the Blood God. Standing above 3 metres tall. Subject T3CHN0 is boar-like in appearance with tusks, muscular build, pig-like ears, tail, and claws.

He has pink coloured fur with a texture akin to one of silky and soft. Subject T3CHN0 wears the facilities uniform.

At first, Subject T3CHN0 may appear aggressive, dangerous, and monotone. And that is true to an extent, with regards to rumours and incidents including Subject T3CHN0 a majority of what happened were either with caution or happened with some sort of reasoning important to the subject, they do not normally breach containment.

Subject T3CHN0 is approachable whilst being aggressive, he wouldn’t harm anyone, he’s saved several lives, to many Subject T3CHN0 is a hero.

Subject T3CHN0 abilities consist of being able to handle harsh temperatures and brute strength, easily breaking through walls and lifting cars. He is also quite knowledgeable in means of armour, swords, combat and oddly potatoes. Subject T3CHN0 is also very intelligent and important to the facility.

Entry 01 – 19/09/20—

So J’Schlatt’s asked me to do occasional entries in order to keep track of behaviours and shit, because of what happened yesterday, WITH TECHNO BREAKING OUT! BECAUSE I WAS SICK! To be fair nobody told him, despite not showing much affection. Techno is quite the worrier.

In regards to the incident, Techno has been punished accordingly for it, by taking away his sword collection and he’s pissed about it. Not much I can do about it though.

Ranboo was pretty freaked out after Techno had broken out, so I’ve talked to Wil about Ranboo seeing Tommy again and said yes so that’ll be coming up soon. That’s all I got.

Entry 02 – 20/09/20—

So, it was arranged that the three of them would be meeting up Tomorrow, that way Techno could apologise to Tommy, much to his dismay.

Also, Techno decided to apologise to Ranboo by just grabbing the dude and forcing him to cuddle with a small sorry? Fucking adorable if I’m honest.

Besides the usual amount of overwhelming paperwork, it was actually a pretty chill day.

Report 21/09/20— Meeting between Subject T0M, Subject R4NB00 and Subject T3CHN0

The meeting between 3 subjects was successful.

Before the meeting began, Wilbur seemed a little uneasy about Subject T3CHN0 in a sense of being worried for his own subject with regards to the recent incident. When the three initially met up, there was a bit of misunderstanding.

Subject T0M has misunderstood T3CHN0 intentions of meeting up with them. And instinctively grew in size and grabbed Subject R4NB00 and pulled them close to their chest in a protective manner.

Subject T3CHN0 is quite fond of Subject R4NB00, in a fury thought Subject T0M was going to hurt R4NB00.

So a fight almost broke between the two until the two researchers intervened, Subject T0M looked confused about the interruption but immediately remembered the circumstances and went to protect the other two, but T3CHN0 had beaten them to it.

The two growled at each other furiously, either one wanting to gain the upper hand. But then Philza told T3CHN0 to let them go, to which he denied his request, Wilbur made an effort to comfort T0M by yelling out that he’d be fine, but only got a saddened whine in response.

Eventually, the two did not move, in fear one was gonna hurt the other so both made the decision to let whoever they were holding go. Which worked and the meeting went well with a lot of them bonding. Subject T3CHN0 also apologised in regards to the recent incident.

Entry 03 – 24/09/20—

So Today I met up with Wil to spend time with him for the day, and also get to know Tommy a small bit, despite my worries it actually went really well. He and Wil are a pretty good pair in my opinion and honestly, Tommy is adorable.

Despite the accident with Tommy putting Wilbur in his mouth for the first time ever. It was really fun! I look forward to seeing more of the guy!

Entry 04 – 26/09/20—

Update on the two of them, Techno got his sword collection back and he’s been pretty chill since the incident, it’s been pretty good for him. But as for Ranboo, he recently had an Ender walk.

Which wasn’t a very pleasant experience trying to run around the facility to find him, he’s okay now though, his head’s just a little fuzzy but nothing else other than that seems wrong. Glad the guys are okay, don’t want him hurt or anything.

The funny thing that came out of this is that Ranboo now has to clean out his cell of flowers and dirt.

Entry 05 – 29/09/20—

Today, Wilbur came to help out with work since there’s been a lot of paperwork and meetings recently, I rarely have time for myself these days it seems.

By the time I came back Ranboo, Techno and Wil were chatting, it looked pretty wholesome if I’m honest. I’m glad Wilburs making friends.

He said when he was taking care of them, he and Techno had some roughhousing. Wonder what that must have been like!

Entry 06 – 30/09/20—

Well, since that interview on that popular show, I’ve had a lot of people come in for becoming an intern and some of them were just either unqualified or not just what I’m looking for, I’ve referred them to other people in the building.

Now, there is one that’s caught my eye, his name’s Tubbo Underscore, studying both physics and chemistry. Excelling at it even, he’s top of his class in one of the highest state universities.

Not only that the kid is actually quite talented with explosives surprisingly and has a strange obsession with bees. He seems very interesting. I’ll bring him in for an interview.

Entry 07 – 3/10/20—

So good news! Tubbo got the job and today was his first day here. He was an extreme help and actually got along really well with both Techno and Ranboo.

Actually, he seems to have taken a really big liking to Ranboo and Ranboo has definitely taken a liking to him as well with Ranboo constantly asking about the boy like “When will he be back?” and talking about the positives of him.

Luckily, Tubbo has a lot of spare time, so I’ll bring the boy in for a lot of shifts. I’m looking forward to working with him.

(End of document)

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #sizeshifter!tommy #tiny!wilbur #giant!techno #tiny!tubbo #tiny!phil #tiny!schlatt #Shushi's writings #Subject t0m au

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fic-for-fic-sake · 3 years ago

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A Happy Accident

A/N: The other day I found out that Chris Evans may possibly have a sex dungeon? I don’t write real people fics but I knew I HAD to write a Steve Rogers fic about this because I mean...c’mon. Also the text conversation in the fic is indeed a real conversation between my friend and I.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub, flogging, being tied up, penetrative sex, honorifics, praise kink

Word Count: 5.4k

You knew there was trouble before you even reached the meeting room, it was like a palpable tension you could sense coming from the conference room. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was to come as you walked in and took your usual spot next to Natasha.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” You questioned her, murmuring under your breath since nobody seemed keen to speak above a whisper for the time being.

“Some kind of security breach, we don’t know how bad yet, we have to wait for Stark.” She explained, speaking in clipped tones. She seemed nervous, which was understandable given the circumstances. A security breach could mean a number of things, none of them good. Anything from weapons tech to secret identities could’ve been revealed in the breach.

The tension seemed to come to a head when Tony and Steve walked into the room. Everyone erupted into a flurry of activity, peppering the two men with so many questions it was hard to make out what came from who.

“What was taken?” Someone asked.

“Was it anything serious?” Someone else wondered.

“Do we need to scrap the new suit designs?” You asked, adding your voice to the babble.

“Okay everyone settle down and give Tony some room to think.” Steve urged all of you, forming a one man barrier around Stark. Which you had to admit was rather effective. Once everyone reseated themselves and Steve gave Tony a nod, Tony cleared his throat.

“By now you all have obviously heard that there’s been a security breach. We don’t know who is behind the breach but so far all that was leaked was text conversations of the following Avengers; Wanda, Sam, Bucky, and Y/N.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were a target in the security breach. But why? Why you specifically and why just your text conversations? It seemed rather harmless considering everything else they could’ve taken.

“Luckily Wanda doesn’t really text anyone because everyone she knows is here. As far as Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are concerned they only leaked conversations from your work phones, meaning your personal phone security isn’t in question.” Tony reassured you all. Well, it reassured Sam and Bucky at least.

“Um, what do you mean ‘work phone’?” You asked, looking around with a puzzled expression on your face.

“You do have a burner phone for personal use, right?” Nat asked from beside you. Now your heart was located somewhere in your feet.

“I didn’t know I needed one.” You whispered, barely contained horror edging its way into your voice.

“Well, I mean what’s the worst that could be there?” Sam asked, trying to reassure you. Luckily, or unluckily enough, you didn’t have to answer that question because within the coming days they would all find out.

After the meeting you tried to go about your normal routine and ignore the security breach as best as you could. That got considerably harder the following morning, when the hacker released your private conversations with your friends for all the world to see. They went something like this:

Sarah: Do you think Steve Rogers is good in bed?

You: Obviously, dumb question.

Sarah: Do you think he’s kinky though?

You: Oh 100%, no way he doesn’t have a secret sex dungeon or something.

Sarah: Since you’re an Avenger now you should try to find out.

You: HAHAHAHAHA that’s hilarious and something I’ll never do, in reality. But in theory PUT ME IN COACH! I bet he would probably make me sign an NDA and I would totally be down for that.

Sarah: I’ll sign a DNR

You: HAA, I would sign the NDA but also have to tell you what’s happening and then I would make you sign an NDA.

Sarah: Then you’re breaking the NDA??

You: Not if you don’t tell anyone goddamn be cool.

Sarah: It’s the principle of the thing

You: ...I wonder what kind of dom he is

Sarah: Idk if he’s a daddy. He feels like a Sir or Master. I also think he doesn’t have soft limits, only hard limits.

You: as much as I would like to think he’s a pleasure dom I don’t think that’s true

Sarah: I agree

You: Maybe a brat tamer?

Sarah: That feels too tame for him.

You: Okay so then just a no holds bard whipping dom. I would wait all day in his sex dungeon just to lick his boots when he came home. Does that make me depraved? Probably.

Sarah: Possibly, I also think he’d degrade the shit out of you, like kinda pet play shit. I also think he has a spreader bar collection. Aaaand an overstimulation kink.

You: Oh agreed, that and edging. I feel like he would edge you for hours and then leave to go on a mission or something and you’re not allowed to touch yourself and then he comes back hours later and you’re just aching for release. And then only after you’re BEGGING he would let you come.

Sarah: Oof. How much do you wanna bet his dungeon is like a sensory deprivation thing? Think about it, hours upon hours of not having any form of relief, after begging nonstop, no real form of your senses and then BAM normal orgasm but heightened to the absolute max.

You: YEP! I bet he’s like the king of aftercare though, like 1000/10 so sweet. Like Steve Rogers is legit such a nice human being so I assume aftercare is the same.

Sarah: AYO SIR LEMME BE YOUR SUB

You: GOD FORREAL!

Needless to say, you did not leave your room that day. The next day you tried to get away with not leaving your room again but Nat was having none of that.

“Come on Y/N, I promise it’s not that bad, I’ve said much worse.” She assured you as she practically dragged you out of your room and into the elevator.

You buried your head in your hands and let out a frustrated scream. “He’s a coworker, Nat, and I totally objectified him and basically said all the filthy things I wanted him to do to me.”

“And I bet he’s real flattered about it! The man needs a good ego boost every now and then.” She replied with a laugh. To which you responded with another frustrated scream and a kick to the elevator doors as they opened. “I bet he didn’t even read it, I doubt anyone on the team did.” She said, sounding certain in her own thinking. She half convinced you until you walked into the training room and every pair of eyes turned to you, including Steve’s baby blues. Fuck.

“Okay we’re working in a group today people, focusing on enhanced individuals with external powers. Wanda and Y/N against Sam, Bucky, and Steve.” Nat announced, opening the door to the special training facility. So you and Wanda wouldn’t trash too much of Stark’s equipment with your powers.

“Hey Y/N, you been to any good sex dungeouns recently? I’m looking for one.” Sam quipped as you made your way to the starting point. Before you could even think about what you were doing the smell of ozone was ripe in the air and you sent a bolt of lightning hurtling towards Sam who was barely able to dodge it in time.

“Sorry...hand slipped.” You mock apologized, making it clear that you would have another ‘hand slip’ if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. He got the point well enough but the damage was already done. The tension was worse now than when you first found out about the breach, everyone trying not to bring up the elephant in the room.

Nat cleared her throat and started her countdown and then the training began in earnest. After an hour you were all panting and sweating, utterly spent from your session. Steve passed everyone a water bottle and you took it gratefully, chugging the cool liquid in earnest. It was then that another comment was made, this time by Bucky.

“Thanks for the aftercare daddy.” He mocked as he opened his own water bottle. Once again the smell of ozone was in the air but you didn’t have a chance to meet your target before Steve had Bucky pressed against the wall, his forearm digging into the other man’s throat.

“That’s enough.” He growled through his teeth. Everyone was silent for a minute and you almost felt sorry for the deer in the headlights look Bucky was now wearing on his face, almost. A shower of frustrated sparks extinguished all the lights in the room as you stormed from the room, embarrassment trailing after you.

That had been four hours ago and you hadn’t left your room, despite Natasha banging on the other side of your door. You had asked FRIDAY not to open it for anyone unless given your express permission. It seemed even the AI knew what kind of a mess you had landed yourself into, as she was immediately understanding of such a request. You were in the process of ordering a burner phone off of Amazon when there was a knock at your door.

“Nat, I don’t care how many books you offer to buy me, I’m NOT coming out of this room.” You yelled into the empty space of your room.

“Noted, but uh, it’s Steve. Can we talk?” You were at the door before he finished his sentence. You opened it no more than a crack, not courageous enough to do more.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I’m mortified.” You mumbled, looking down at your feet instead of the imposing figure outside of your door. Steve gently pushed on the door with his hand and you let him open it the rest of the way. He brought gentle fingers to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes.

“There’s nothing to be mortified about, sweetheart. I just wanna talk.” He replied beseechingly. And maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the way he looked at you, but you relented and let him in, closing the door softly behind you.

“Listen, I’m really sorry for what I said. I obviously never thought it would see the light of day but that’s not an excuse and doesn’t make it okay. Fuck, Steve I’m so sorry. I can get reassigned if you want, have SHIELD put me somewhere else.” You rattled off apologies and half baked plans before you felt his hands gently clasp your shoulders and once again you were forced to look up into his eyes which had gone saucer wide.

“Doll what are you talking about? You don’t need to be reassigned, it's not that big of a deal.” He said, in an attempt to comfort you.

“Not a big deal? I practically accused you of having a sex dungeon and being a mega dom.” You blurted out, mortification making your voice rise half an octave.

He let out a soft sigh before he sat down on the edge of your bed, “It’s not like you were completely in the wrong.” He replied, and that’s when your brain short circuited.

“What? You have a sex dungeon?”

“Well, it’s not a dungeon, it's just my bedroom, but yes I do, partake in those types of things you described.” He explained, his voice as even and calm as if he were discussing the weather.

“Oh.” Was all you could really bring yourself to say.

“Oh? That’s all? I have to say you were much more articulate in your texts.” He teased, his voice suddenly becoming deeper and taking on an air of authority that wasn’t there a second ago. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

And again, maybe it was because of his tone or because of the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in but you answered him honestly. “I’m thinking I’m absolutely mortified that my coworker found out how badly I want him to fuck me.”

“What else?” He prompted. You couldn’t breathe properly, he was taking all the air from the room and the intensity in his gaze pinned you to the spot, like an unsuspecting doe finding itself at the barrel of a gun.

“I’m wondering how correct my predictions were. What kind of a dom you are.”

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes.” You answered before you could think better of it. The second the word left your mouth your eyes went wide at the confession. Because you did want to find out, God did you want to find out what kind of shit Steve Rogers, the golden boy, was into.

“Then we have ourselves a deal. You want to find out what I’m into and I want to show you.”

“Right now?” You asked, breathless. You could feel your core ache at the suggestion, the want plain as day.

He chuckled before he moved to stand before you. “No pretty girl, not yet.” He whispered, bringing his right hand up to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb across the expanse of your lips. “First we have to talk about a few things.”

“Like what?” You questioned, completely enraptured by this man, finding yourself willing to submit to whatever he wanted you to. You were terrified by how much the prospect excited you.

“Like exactly what you want me to do to you. Your texts were very...explicit. But, that may have just been talk. I need to know specifics if this is going to work.” Steve explained, backing you up until you hit your dresser. Without a word he lifted you on top of it and stood between your legs, one of his hands tracing absent minded patterns on your thigh.

It was hard to think with him in such close proximity but you tried to clear your mind because you really wanted this, your mouth went dry at the thought. “I want...I want to be tied up. And I want to be blindfolded. And whipped.” It felt weird to lay your desires out plain before you like this. It made you feel exposed, but it was also oddly empowering.

Steve nodded his head at your requests. “You mentioned something to your friend about edging and orgasm denial, is that something you still wanted to try?”

“Yes, but not, not yet. I’ve never um, I haven’t- I’ve never been kinky with a partner.” You explained to him, feeling an embarrassing heat creeping up your face.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, we all start somewhere.” Steve insisted, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips. “Anything else?” After you shook your head he gave you a nod in reassurance. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.” He said as he stepped away from you.

That was three days ago and you hadn’t heard anything from him on the matter since. You had trained with him, went for a run with him, had the usual team meetings and exchanged the usual pleasantries but nothing out of the ordinary. You had even gone far enough in your wandering mind to think that maybe you imagined the whole interaction.

On Friday, you were told that Steve had gone away on a mission and by that point the team was done teasing you about the leaked conversation, already having moved on to the next thing. You had made plans to go out with them that night to a community outreach thing in Manhattan. You had just gotten your jeans on when a piece of paper slid across your floor from the door.

You walked over to it, thinking someone had just dropped their paper, when you saw what was written on the other side of it.

Text an excuse to Stark for the outreach and then come to my room. -SR

Your heartbeat sped up to a gallop as you read the message through two more times, just to be certain. This was it, it was happening. With shaky fingers you texted Tony a flimsy excuse about draft reports you needed to finish before you put your phone back on your desk and calmly made your way to Steve’s room.

You went to knock but found the door slightly ajar. Taking that as your cue you stepped into Steve Rogers room. While it wasn’t the first time you had been here, it was certainly a circumstance that you weren’t used to. Everything seemed...different somehow. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from dim overhead lighting. There was a faint scent of jasmine that you assumed came from a candle or incense burner you couldn’t see somewhere. On the bed, the sheets had been changed to something that looked like silk and resting on top was an eye mask and two long chords of rope. Which seemed innocuous enough, current circumstances notwithstanding.

“Shut the door and lock it please.” A voice commanded from a shadow in the corner of the room. As soon as you locked the door Steve Rogers emerged from the shadows in an all black version of his Captain America suit. You had never seen him in such a suit before and the sight of him in it made your mouth water and your knees buckle. This was really happening.

“I have to admit, when I read your text conversation I was surprised to say the least. I didn’t know how many dirty thoughts resided in that head of yours but you did not disappoint, did you sweetheart?” He questioned as he made his way over to where you stood, rooted to your spot by the door. He gently pressed against your shoulder and you followed his lead, letting him back you against the door, his strong hands landing on either side of your head, arms caging you in. “And then when we spoke, you were /very/ specific in what you wanted and I am nothing if not obliging, you’ll find.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your mouth at the implication behind his words.

“Are you ready to be my good girl? Hmm sweetheart?”

“Yes Steve.” You whispered, your mind not being able to form anything other than those words.

He made a slight tsking sound. “In here, don’t call me Steve. It’s Captain. Got it?”

“Yes Captain.” You replied obediently.

“Good girl, now get undressed for me.” He commanded, stepping back to give you room to complete his task. With nervous fingers you lifted your shirt above your head and undid the clasp on your bra. You watched as Steve’s eyes took in your exposed top half, he licked his lips which made you shiver in turn. Confidence growing by his visible excitement you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them down your legs along with your panties, until you were gloriously naked before him.

“God, you're so beautiful sweetheart. I’m already getting hard and all you’ve done is get undressed.” He praised you as he palmed himself through his tac pants. “Come here pretty girl.” He insisted as he picked up the blindfold.

You walked over to him and turned around as he secured the blindfold against your eyes and tied it for you. “Now, we’re gonna use a color system, okay? Green means you’re okay to keep going, Yellow means to slow down, and Red means stop. Can you remember that doll?”

“Yes Captain.” You murmured as you adjusted to not being able to see. You tuned into your other senses to rely on what was happening. You felt Steve take your hand and walk you over until you reached the side of the bed. He helped you up before asking you to lay down on your back.

“Okay pretty girl I’m gonna tie you up now.” He told you as you felt both of his hands take your left arm and maneuver it above your head before securing your wrist in place with rope. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before repeating the process with your other arm. “How do you feel sweetheart?”

“Good Captain, I feel good.” You told him as your heartbeat kicked up another notch. You felt him take your left leg with gentle fingers and tie your ankle to the baseboard of the bed. You gasped as he secured your right ankle, knowing you were now naked and spread bare before him. You felt the bed dip as he kneeled over you and brought his mouth down to whisper in your ear.

“What’s your color baby?”

“Green.” You replied. Almost immediately you felt his lips press against yours, desperate and hungry for you. You kissed back with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed. It was a strange sensation, kissing someone you couldn’t touch let alone see, but that didn’t make it unpleasant. You felt blissfully detached from your body and the need raced down to your pussy until you had the sudden urge to close your legs and hide your arousal.

Steve chuckled against your mouth as his left hand snaked down to see what you were trying in vain to hide. “So eager for me and we’ve hardly started” He lazily swiped his fingers along your folds to feel the wetness that gathered there. He then brought the same hand up to your breast and worked your juices around your nipple, making you groan at the sheer wantonness of it all. Steve happily swallowed your groan with his mouth, his tongue taking the opportunity to pass your lips.

You fervently kissed him back as his ministrations against your nipple continued. His lips left yours and left a trail of hot kisses down your throat and over to your neglected right nipple. You felt him blow cold air on it and your back bowed against the bed, your arms straining against the restraints. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud and you couldn’t help the noises that escaped your mouth.

“Oh fuck, Captain.” You let out as he took your nipple into his mouth. You could feel his left hand leave your nipple and you let out a whine of protest. He only laughed against your skin before you heard the faint opening of a drawer. Your ears picked up the sound of him rummaging around for something but you couldn’t focus too much on that as the rest of your body was alight with fire as he continued to work on your nipple with his mouth. He finally found what he was looking for in the drawer and he released your nipple with a wet popping sound before you felt his weight shift and he removed himself from you.

“You mentioned something about being whipped.” He teased, and you could hear that his own arousal had made his voice hoarse. Your cunt throbbed in response. “Do you know what a flogger is pretty girl?”

“Yes Captain.” You replied from your position on the bed. Your mouth went dry at the mental image you had of Steve in his black tac suit with a flogger in hand. How would he use it on you? Would it hurt? Be pleasant? The anticipation was eating you up in the best of ways.

“Good girl. We’re gonna do some counting. Since this is your first time we won’t do too many, just ten. But you have to count them pretty girl. If you forget, or lose count, we start over. Do you understand?”

Oh fuck. “Yes Captain.” You heard him chuckle from somewhere above you before you heard the whoosh of the flogger and the sensation on your skin. You gasped as the leather straps came down hard against your left nipple. “One.” The second one came down against your right nipple and you found that your pussy clenched around nothing. “Two.”

Numbers three, four, and five were placed on your nipples and your stomach.

“Halfway there pretty girl, you’re doing so well.” Steve’s voice came from somewhere around you. A thin layer of sweat had broken out over your skin and your arousal was through the roof. You found yourself panting in anticipation of the next strike. It came, the leather striking against your dripping center and you let out a gasp as your back arched off of the silk sheets. “Six”

“Oh you liked that one didn’t you sweetheart?” Steve teased.

“Yes Captain.” You replied breathlessly. Number seven came in the same spot and another lewd sound left your mouth as the flogger found its spot. Numbers eight and nine he placed on the sensitive insides of your thighs.

“Last one pretty girl. You’ve taken it so well I’ll let you decide where this last one goes.”

“Hit my pussy again, please, I want it so bad Captain.” You practically pleaded. Under any other circumstances you would’ve been ashamed at how pathetic you sounded but you didn’t care. Steve Rogers was doing depraved things to you and you couldn’t think straight. You just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, to take all of you, every tiny nook and cranny of your being until he knew your pleasures like the back of his hand.

“Such a needy girl, maybe after the flogger I’ll give you a reward.” He replied, sounding pleased with you, before he placed the tenth and final flog against your aching core. “God you look so sexy like this, blindfolded and tied to my bed, maybe I should leave you here as my own personal fucktoy, would you like that baby?” He asked as he inserted two fingers into your mouth.

You mumbled your response against the digits, your pussy getting wetter at the thought of him using you like that. You were only half kidding when you had texted your friend about it but now, with your arousal so strong, it sounded more and more enticing. Steve removed his fingers from your mouth and brought them down to your sensitive center, rubbing them up and down your slit before inserting them into your slick heat. You gasped at the intrusion and felt your hips buck up in response to being filled.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers as he began to pump them at a leisurely pace. You felt him make his way down your body to nestle himself between your spread legs and then his hot breath was fanning out over your cunt as his fingers continued to fuck you. “You look so good, pretty girl. Spread open for me like my own personal feast. God you’re so wet. I guess you like to be flogged.” He spoke, the filthy words that left his lips making you wetter than you already were. Without warning he brought his tongue to you and kitten licked your clit, sending a shockwave through your system.

He took your clit in his mouth and sucked as he continued to work you with his fingers. You fruitlessly tugged against your restraints and bucked your hips in an attempt to get the friction you so desperately needed.

“God sweetheart you taste better than I imagined.” Steve commented as his tongue lapped up your juices. “I bet I’ll be able to taste you on my tongue for a week.”

“Fuck, Captain, please can I cum?” You begged, tears wetting the inside of your mask from the intensity of your session.

“Come for me baby, let me feel you come on my fingers.” Steve commanded and that was your undoing. The knot that had been building inside of you was finally released and you came loudy around his fingers. You felt him lick you through the aftershocks.

“Talk to me, pretty girl, how are you feeling?” Steve questioned, voice hot once again by your ear. His suit gently pressing against your overstimulated skin. “Give me a color.” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline.

“I’m good Captain, still Green.” You responded, coming down from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl for your Captain. You’re doin’ so well pretty girl.” He said as he left the bed. You weren’t sure where he went until you felt his dexterous fingers undoing the ropes on your left leg. “I’m undoing the leg ropes first. And then I’m going to fuck you senseless like I’ve been wanting to do since I saw those damn text messages.” Your spent cunt clenched around nothing, as you eagerly waited for him to undo the other leg restraint. You could hear him undo the many zippers and clasps on his tac suit until the bed dipped and he was once again between your legs.

This time skin met skin as you felt his upper thighs press between yours as he brought himself closer to you still. You felt the tip of his cock slide between your wet folds before slipping inside. The breath was stolen from your lungs at the feel of him sinking into your waiting cunt. A low moan left your mouth as you felt every perfect inch of him spreading you until he bottomed out and his hips nestled perfectly against your own.

You felt his forehead press against your own. “Fuck you feel perfect, you know that pretty girl? My perfect little pussy.” He breathed against your mouth as he let you adjust to him. He retracted himself from you fully before swiftly filling you up again. Any noise you may have made was swallowed as he kissed you with a hunger you didn’t think was possible. What started as a slow rhythm quickly changed until he was snapping into you with a fervor akin to a madman.

Your hips eagerly met his thrusts and soon your combined pants and skin slapping filled the room. Still blindfolded, you felt the moment his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed just so. That had your walls flutter around him and your hips stuttered.

“Oh you like that don’t you? You like when I choke you huh pretty girl?” He asked eagerly, his voice husky from moaning.

“Yes, fuck, please Captain, fuck me.” You rasped out. You grunted as he brought his other hand down to press your hips into the mattress before he slammed into you at a relentless pace. Eventually, his hand left your throat to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Come on pretty girl. Come for me.” He ordered and you were only too happy to comply. You came hard around him, enough that you saw stars behind the blindfold and Steve let out a string of curses and praises for you as he pulled out of you and you felt his cum paint your stomach.

You had a moment to catch your breath as you heard Steve pad over to what you assumed was the bathroom. He came back and placed a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the combined mess you both made. Then you felt his hands move up to untie the blindfold around your eyes. You squinted into the low light of the room and were shocked to see Steve bare chested and glistening with sweat before you.

“Hi.” You murmured shyly, finding that some of your confidence had left you along with the blindfold. Seeing him like this, because of you, because of what you had done, somehow cemented this moment in reality. There was no turning back now.

“Hi yourself, how do you feel?” He asked as he undid the ropes around your wrists.

“I um wow, I feel great.” You said and realized it was true. In the afterglow of the scene you felt amazing. Sexy and empowered and utterly spent but undeniably amazing.

“You did great.” Steve assured you as he took lotion into his hands and massaged the areas on your wrists and ankles where the ropes had been. He placed a gentle kiss on each palm when he was done and went to get you a glass of water. “Drink all of this.”

You took the glass from his hands and drank deep. Appreciating the cool feeling of the water as it slid down the column of your throat, you didn’t realize how thirsty you had become. You finished the glass and handed it back to Steve, who placed it on one of his bedside tables.

“Good girl.” He praised and you felt yourself blush in response. He noticed. “Do you like being praised, sweetheart?”

“Yes Captain.” You nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied as he helped you into one of his shirts and placed you underneath the covers. He rested beside you and wrapped you in his strong arms. “You did so well today for your first time. It wasn’t too much for you was it?”

“No, I really liked it.” You reassured him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead with a promise to discuss it more after you slept some.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfic #mcu fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert

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ibijau · 3 years ago

Note

Here's a prompt: Lan Xichen somehow dies while in seclusion—or at least that's what the rumors say—and Nie Huaisang deals with the consequences. And heartbreak. As the saying goes, you don't realize how much you love someone until they're gone.

Okay, if that sort of plot interests you, do yourself a favour and check Between the Shadow and the Soul which is exactly that. It's an amazing xisang fic, I cannot recommend it warmly enough!

And now:

Warning in this fic for a lot of references to suicide and depression

It struck Nie Huaisang as interesting that he felt so little about the whole thing. His reaction upon learning the news had been first to dismiss it as a joke in poor taste. Once it had been confirmed, and his presence had been required, he'd been too busy planning his trip to give it much thought. Then he'd arrived in the Cloud Recesses, just in time for the funeral, and gone through the motions of what was expected of him. At most he'd felt mildly when asked to keep vigil, as if there was still any connection between them. He'd only agreed for the sake of appearances, refused to look at the body, and gave his seat to the next mourner as soon as was polite.

The ceremony itself was conducted to perfection, as could be expected of the Lans. Every word was said the right way, every gesture graceful. It was almost a beautiful thing to behold, Nie Huaisang distantly thought. Lan Qiren's monotone voice was better suited for such events than for teaching, certainly. And Lan Wangji had always looked his best when in the throes of loss and despair. Sadness just became those Lans a little too well, as if they'd been born for tragedy.

Perhaps they were.

Nie Huaisang did not dwell on the subject, and allowed time to pass him by until at last the ceremony was entirely over. He would have gone home right then if he could have, his duty accomplished, but it would have been noticed and discussed. Nie Huaisang did not want to get mixed up in the gossip that was sure to spread around after this.

“Did they tell anyone what he died of?” Sect Leader Yao asked in a too loud whisper while waiting for the refreshment promised to the guests.

“I've only heard that because of his seclusion, it took them several days to even notice he had passed,” Sect Leader Ouyang replied. Then, noticing Nie Huaisang standing alone nearby, he gestured at him to join them. Nie Huaisang tried to pretend he hadn't seen them, but it was in vain as Sect Leader Ouyang called him by name until he couldn't be ignored anymore. “Join us please! You were his friend, weren't you? Surely you must know more than us.”

It was a sign of the hollowness that had seized Nie Huaisang since learning of the news that he did not laugh. What friends they had been indeed. Once, perhaps... but no, the word would never have been right to describe them. They were acquaintances at best, brought together out of love for Mingjue, torn apart after his death even if Lan Xichen hadn't known it then.

He'd learned it, in time.

Two years earlier, when Nie Huaisang had finally given a proper funeral to his brother, Lan Xichen had tried to talk to him about everything that had happened. Lan Xichen had wanted the truth, and he'd certainly gotten it. Nie Huaisang, bitter and angry and broken after going through the pain of burying his brother again, had not spared the other man a single detail of everything he'd done, everything he'd learned, everything he'd felt.

Two weeks after that, Lan Xichen had entered seclusion and they'd never met again, unless one counted what little time Nie Huaisang had spent with the other man's coffin.

Nie Huaisang did not think it counted.

“I have not been told anything more than anyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, more careful than the other two to keep his voice down.

“It is just too odd,” Sect Leader Yao said. “A man his age doesn't die without reason, and his cultivation was far too great to allow for sickness!”

“Surely I don't know what Yao-zongzhu might be suggesting.”

“I am just saying it is very odd,” Sect Leader Yao insisted, glancing toward Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji with what he had to consider a knowing expression.

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang said.

They were thinking Lan Xichen had been murdered, then.

It was amazing, he thought, that anyone could misunderstand Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji this much. Perhaps the second's reputation was no longer as pristine as it had once been, due to his open association with the Yiling Patriarch, but he could hardly have been accused of killing his brother when he profited so little from his death. It was to Lan Qiren that the title of Sect Leader went, something which had been decided long ago, and which Lan Wangji would have known. Not that Lan Wangji would ever have wanted such a title. And as to accusing Lan Qiren of murdering his nephew, it was ridiculous. There were few men in the world whose honour Nie Huaisang believed in, but Lan Qiren was definitely of the number.

If it was not an ordinary sickness that had killed Lan Xichen, and it was not another person either, then it left only one option.

The Lans tended to easily fall prey to melancholy, Lan Xichen had once told Nie Huaisang, during one of those rare true and sincere conversations between them, when they had both bared more of their soul to the other than they'd intended. And that melancholy was a powerful sort, Lan Xichen had explained, more dangerous than any disease, any war, any demon. The way he had spoken of it had made it clear that Lan Xichen himself particularly struggled with it ever since becoming Sect Leader during the war, a struggle he hid under a mask no less carefully crafted than Nie Huaisang’s. Lan Xichen had told him he thought that melancholy would overcome him someday as it had done others in his family, an affliction no less powerful than that the Nie suffered.

So it was clear to Nie Huaisang that the manner of Lan Xichen's death was...

His whole body shook as he hurriedly fought to contain a sob.

“Nie-zongzhu?” Sect Leader Ouyang said with concern. “Are you unwell?”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He was fine. He was unaffected. They'd never even been close.

Another sob had to be contained.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath, and smiled weakly.

“Nothing dramatic,” he said with a voice he scarcely recognised as his own. “A moment of... I have known him for so long.”

“Of course. This must be hard on you. He must have been like a brother to you.”

Nie Huaisang made a noise. A sob, or a laugh, he could not have said, but it was too loud and attracted more attention than he cared to deal with. Having spent the last couple of years carefully working to undo the damage he had done to his own reputation, Nie Huaisang could not have born to be seen crying in public, something he now felt the danger of. He muttered some vague apology to the two men standing near him, and excused himself from the assembly. He managed to keep himself in check until he had left everyone behind, and only broke into tears when he was sure to be alone.

Gone was the numbness that had so puzzled him since hearing that Lan Xichen had been found dead, because the full horror of that loss finally hit him.

Lan Xichen was gone.

Lan Xichen was dead.

He would never again come by the Unclean Realm in answer to a desperate plea for help that never really needed his input. There would be no more praises of Nie Huaisang's birds, his fans, his paintings. No more gentle comforting and undeserved patience.

Lan Xichen was dead.

And if Nie Huaisang had acted with less cruelty, Lan Xichen might not have killed himself.

Nie Huaisang, a month after returning home, wondered whether melancholy was a contagious ailment, and whether one might catch it from sitting near the corpse of a man who had died from it.

He made the mistake of asking Nie Liyan, his favourite cousin and heir, expecting her to laugh or tease him. Instead she gave him a most pitiful look, and told him that melancholy was most often caught in such a manner, especially if the corpse was that of a person held dear.

It had never occurred to Nie Huaisang to think that Lan Xichen might be dear to him. The man was merely there, full of good intentions and blind to the nature of those around him. They had shared pleasant moments together perhaps, but no more than Nie Huaisang had done with others. In fact, Nie Huaisang was quite sure he had laughed more with Jin Guangyao than with Lan Xichen. If asked, he might have admitted that he'd held warmer feelings than he ought to have toward the man who had so cruelly murdered his brother. But Lan Xichen?

Nie Huaisang would have been hard pressed to decide what he felt for the man while he was alive. Only in death was he forced to realise that Lan Xichen too had been an important figure in his life and, yes, perhaps dearer than he would have liked. But it was hard to hate a man such as Lan Xichen, he told Nie Liyan when the realisation became too bothersome to bear it alone. Nie Huaisang simply could not imagine that anyone in the world might have met Lan Xichen and not liked him.

“I've never understood what people saw in him,” Nie Liyan had just replied. “And I've told you as much many times, even before your brother's death. His looks were good but not to the degree everyone claimed, he smiled too much, and he spoke too much like a book.”

“That says more about your tastes than about his qualities,” Nie Huaisang retorted hotly.

“Perhaps. Or it says something about your tastes.”

That insolent answer had not pleasant Nie Huaisang, who had promptly changed the topic, and never breached it again with her.

The melancholy did not ease with time, but instead invited some friends to live with it in Nie Huaisang's heart.

Such as a sharp terror over the concept of his own mortality.

Nie Huaisang had always known he would die early. It ran in the family, and he'd seen it happen twice already to his own relative. Considering his own temper, his weak and unstable cultivation, Nie Huaisang had long feared that he would not even live long enough to see his brother avenged. This had made him frustrated with the slow pace he'd been forced to endure, which in turn had only had a worse effect on his general state. Things had improved after the death of Jin Guangyao, making Nie Huaisang hope he might perhaps make it to the venerable age of forty, something neither his brother nor his father had managed.

The death of Lan Xichen robbed him of that hope.

It was only, Nie Huaisang told himself, that the loss had reminded him people died of reasons other than familial curses or to pay the price of their hubris. Death, even for cultivators, was not an uncommon occurrence, so no man could leave his bed in the morning and be certain he would return to it at night. And if he were to die now, what would he have to show for it except a sect that still wouldn’t be treated seriously, and the blood on his hands?

That consideration was also an important one in making a decision. No matter how hard he tried, Nie Huaisang couldn’t seem to correct the reputation he had given his sect. When people talked about the changes happening in Qinghe Nie, the way it might has started to become reliable once more, they always felt the need to point out that it could be nothing more than a stroke of luck, something that was sure to return to normal very soon under Nie Huaisang’s poor guidance. It was a source of great annoyance to him that people now considered it normal for Qinghe Nie to be weak and useless, when not twenty years earlier it had been greater than Lanling Jin.

It would take a dramatic change for people to accept that Qinghe Nie was returning to its roots.

So Nie Huaisang told Nie Liyan that he would abdicate in her favour.

She was more than ready for this, he told her. They had been working in tandem since long before the death of Jin Guangyao, and she had proven multiple times that she would handle the position of Sect Leader better than he ever would. She was a good administrator, with great martial art skill, a cultivation level that was among the best in their generation. She was also an excellent teacher, and well liked by all the disciples, from young juniors who had never known their sect’s glorious days to elders who’d known Nie Huaisang’s father as a young child. Nie Huaisang and Nie Liyan had always agreed that she would succeed him if he died the way his family so often did, or whenever he would decide to give up on a position he had never wanted.

“Are you sure now is the right time?” Nie Liyan only asked him.

“There is no right time for these things. But Lanling Jin is still not quite stable yet, Gusu Lan is in the hands of an old friend, and Yunmeng Jiang is caught up in the Jins’ business. That means the three great sects won’t give you a hard time as you settle in, and I know you can handle the others.”

“And what will you do?”

“Travel, perhaps,” Nie Huaisang replied without conviction.

He had never planned for what he would do after handing her his title, and realised suddenly that he’d never expected to be alive for that. No matter how often they discussed the possibility of a quiet succession, Nie Huaisang had never really considered he would be luckier than his father and brother. Yet there he was, suddenly forced to accept that tomorrow was something that existed for him while also dreading the uncertainty of his own mortality.

Nie Liyan accepted his answer, and they set out to plan the succession, calculate the best possible date for it, and choose how to announce the news to other sects. They did not talk about Nie Huaisang’s future any further, for which he was grateful. He had a vague suspicion that Nie Liyan thought he intended to kill himself, which would explain why she kept suggesting he took a companion with him when he left.

Nie Huaisang promised to consider it. He even did wonder who in the world might be a travelling companion worth putting up with. Nobody from his own sect would do, as he thought they would quickly grow bored of any destination that might appeal to him. And there was no one left outside of Qinghe Nie who he felt close enough to. It was only a pity, he thought one night, that Lan Xichen had passed away, as he would have been a very interesting person to have on a journey. Someone who shared his sense of beauty and his love of great landscape, who would not complain if Nie Huaisang asked to stop and paint but might instead join him. And perhaps travelling in that manner might have lifted some of Lan Xichen’s melancholy in a way that locking himself up away from the world could never have done.

Perhaps it could have saved Lan Xichen.

Nie Huaisang slept little that night, half drowning on sorrows and what-if that could never come true.

Come morning, he told Nie Liyan that he would travel alone, and she did not insist.

Nie Huaisang left the Unclean Realm as soon as the succession ceremony was over so he wouldn’t have a chance to change his mind. He recently bought an excellent horse, and the animal was packed with whatever belongings could not be put inside a qiankun pouch. Nie Huaisang had money, he had clothes, everything needed to paint and write. He even had a destination in mind at last, one suggested to him by Lan Qiren, of all people. The old teacher, upon learning of his intention to step down, had written him a thoughtful letter wishing him the best of luck in his new life, inviting him to come and stay in the Cloud Recesses if he ever went that way so they might play weiqi together, and suggesting he should go visit Baidi in his exile, where he too might become inspired to write some poetry. Perhaps, Lan Qiren added, a place so rich in history would help him find new meaning to his life.

The idea had something romantic to it. More than that, though, Nie Huaisang remembered that several times over the course of their acquaintance, Lan Xichen had expressed a wish to visit the city, while always failing to find an excuse to do so. It seemed appropriate that Nie Huaisang’s first destination should be inspired by the man whose death had forced him to reconsider his own life.

So Nie Huaisang set out toward Baidi, and promised himself to enjoy his time there, for Lan Xichen’s sake as well as his own.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #xisang #I guess? I mean it was the original intention but then things didn't go as planned #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

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