#well unless you like endless corridors-

[nem0-nee]

I would believe in Helix's existence as its twst so ghost are canon anyway

But oml- his design is just so Top tier as well as the entire concept??? Its just so unique and im stunned at how creative you are with your ocs.

Also i admit with no shame that I'd approach Helix and bombard him compliments on his looks. He looks too cool so its not my fault. So i guess there goes my mental health out the door.

ANON PLEASE 😭😭 Man is a blaring red flag please sAVE YOURSELF!!!!

Okay first, thank you!!;!&: My blorbos just seem to have a certain pizzazz around em? Plus yeah, I’m just as obsessed as you are with his design.

As for your last paragraph…

Don’t say I didn’t warn you anon… Best be careful around doors now, unless you wish to be isekai’d /j

[prael]

Rivalry

Kinktember Day 8: Hate Sex

(G)I-DLE Shuhua x male reader smut

words: 4,799 Kinktember Masterlist

School rivalries can get fierce, but none as fierce as this one.

It's been drilled in since the very first day, no matter what class you were in. From math tournaments to football games, these schools live and die by their standing. If one of them wins, the entire school wins. If they lose, then the school loses with them.

The fun in this rivalry has long since been drained from the system, replaced with spiteful desperation and a toxic desire. The sort of thing that has spilt well beyond the competition hall or the sports field, so much so that local authorities have had to step in for the safety and peace of mind of the students who might've gotten hurt in the chaos.

Needless to say, no individual is really to blame—or maybe all of them are.

You're coming off the back of a crushing victory at the start of this year's Summer Cup, bringing home an early advantage that, to you at least, has meant you could finally take a breath of fresh air, relax, and support your school the rest of the way. You had been chosen for the bits of media coverage (some of this actually makes national TV) such as the post-game interview spots, something not particularly fun, but something that gives you a chance to enjoy the win and rub it in the face of the rivals. Meaning that you were late to the ice bath and the shower and you're now walking through the corridor alone, while everyone is outside awaiting the next game.

Everyone except her.

There's a girl, wearing an outfit in the colours of your rival. Her yellow (really short) shorts, and white top, rolled up to just below her bust.

"You're in the wrong place," you call out as she walks closer, but she says nothing and gives a casual side-eye as she tries to walk on by. This pisses you off, so you move to block her. "I said you're in the wrong fucking place."

"Funny," she replies through that contemptuous smirk is there. She doesn't even try to mask it. "Since you're the one that's in my way. Get lost."

"See that?" You point to the wall, to the crest of your school. "This is our building. You aren't supposed to be here. What? Can't you read?"

The girl, having fully shifted her attention to you at this point, folds her arms beneath her chest. "Oh, grow up. It's an athletics competition. This is an athletics centre. You can take your tribalism elsewhere, bud."

The nickname and condescending tone, the absolute nonchalance that this girl seems to be able to project when speaking to you...it does something. It sends a twitch through your fists. "My tribalism? You're the one sporting your colours in our building."

The girl makes a brief, sarcastic sound. "I hate you all the same, but that doesn't mean you can deny me using the toilet in here. Move."

"Why don't you walk your pretentious arse back out the door where you came from, find the one next door and use it instead? Just seems like some foolish excuse to come in here and sabotage us, you people have a track record of this shit."

"Yeah, or," she responds, giving the most fake smile, before taking a step forward into your space. "Maybe I really need to use a toilet. Ever consider that, smart guy?"

This close, you can really take a good look at her. From her petite and lithe, athletic figure, to her soft skin, and messy ponytail. Her demeanour, too, along with her hazelnut eyes and pouting lips. It takes a moment, but soon, you recognise her. This is Shuhua. Maybe the most vocal of your rivals. Known for her antagonistic behaviour, her temper, her endless mocking and recently her frustration with always coming second.

"I know you."

"Congratu-fucking-lations, now step aside unless you want me to piss down your leg."

You grit your teeth at her crude words, "Toilet huh? Okay. Use it, but I'm escorting you there and then back out of the building. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

"I don't know, I'm a pretty skinny girl and you're a strong guy, maybe you could throw me pretty far..." Shuhua says as she steps past you. "You can wait by the door, fucking pervert."

You roll your eyes but don't dignify the insult with a response. Instead, you make sure to walk closely by her side and lead her to the ladies toilet. "You've got five minutes."

"Oh no. So scared," she drones before you swing the door open for her. She's about to step in when she stalls and glances up at you. "Sure you trust me? What if I... Oh, what if I leave the tap running and waste your water? How's that for sabotage?" Shuhua absolutely drenches her words in sarcasm.

You pull the door closed, forcing her to step inside without waiting for a reply. Once more, your fist twitches at the annoyance.

A couple of minutes pass before the door finally swings open and you watch as the girl saunters back out with a self-satisfied smirk. "There, that wasn't so hard, now was it? Want to come in and check the taps?"

That, funnily enough, does make you laugh, if a little humourlessly. "Don't you ever get sick of yourself? Actually, scratch that, that was stupid to ask, of course not," you mutter. "You know, I almost feel sorry for your school. Having to deal with you must be a real fucking burden. Hey, what's that they say, one bad apple and all that."

"Ugh, the fucking ego," Shuhua shakes her head as if she can't believe the nonsense. "You're even worse in person." She sighs and gestures in a bid for you to lead the way back towards the exit.

"Sounds like jealousy to me," you retort and start walking, and she follows behind. "Doesn't feel great, does it?"

You don't have to look, her exasperated scoff speaks volumes. "Wow. Is this really what your school thinks? Of course, it is, why would I ever have thought differently. You are all so fucking alike. All stuck in this same, boring headspace. And for the record, no, it isn't 'jealousy'. There is no jealousy here because I, unlike you, can pull my head out of my arse."

She's nothing if not stubborn, and while you know she's trying to get a rise out of you, you bite, "You're all the same at that fucking school, this is who they raised. Vocal, obnoxious, bitter. Too much time caring about how you look rather than results—"

A door slams behind you. You turn. The door to the locker room. Shuhua has disappeared.

You rush into the door, throwing it open. Empty, or so it seems, but she has to be in here somewhere. You walk down the left row of lockers, taking slow, quiet steps. Listening, hoping to hear the smallest bit of movement. The crunch of feet, a giggle, the slight jangle of coins.

Nothing.

You're approaching the end of the row of lockers and nothing so far. You get right up against the corner, readying to quickly round it when you think you hear a small breath from just the other side.

Three, two, one, and you launch yourself around the corner.

Shuhua is right there, waiting, she grabs you by the shoulders and pins you against the lockers with a crash, before smiling sweetly.

"What the fuck are you doing—"

You're immediately hushed by the feeling of something soft pressed against your lips, followed by the press of a hand against your groin and a thigh, nestled right between yours.

It takes a moment. You're not quite sure how to process this. It's instinct more than anything that makes your hands come to grasp and clutch Shuhua's ass firmly. She grins and lets out an approving hum, slipping her tongue in while squeezing harder against your groin and getting another equally pleasurable response of you tightening your grip on her.

There's a few moments of this, kissing, back against the lockers, Shuhua against your chest. Then, your tongue meets hers, and she lets a soft moan into your mouth. A moment of weakness that allows you to shove her backwards against the wall with a thump. It takes less than a moment and you're both back at it again, clawing away at each other. Your body presses her into the wall, lips parting before briefly, quickly reconnecting. Shuhua doesn't resist, and not long after, you've parted the kiss, she's moved her lips to your neck and you're running a hand down her thigh.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you growl into her ear as your fingertips approach the edge of those frustratingly short shorts. "Did your little brain figure out you can't win these events so you have to find other ways to know what winning feels like? If you can't beat them, fuck them?"

The girl pulls herself from your neck and takes a fist full of your hair. "You piece of shit," she seethes. "Like you aren't desperate for this pussy."

You aggressively push your hand up under her shorts and she squeaks as you clutch the flesh of her ass in a tight grip. You pull her and she raises a leg around you. "This pussy? You have got to be kidding me. Have you seen the cheerleaders at our school?"

She uses her legs to push you aside, forcing you to swap positions with her. She has you against the wall now, and her hand has dipped down the front of your shorts. She's grinning, groping you in a tight, frustratingly wonderful, fist. "Bunch of bimbos who fall to their knees as soon as you turn on the charm."

"I didn't even have to turn on the charm for you. What does that say about you?"

She takes a firmer grip on your length and a loud groan escapes from deep within you. Shuhua can't help herself, her lips quirking into that insufferable smirk, her eyes shining. "It says that you couldn't take your eyes off my ass the entire walk down that corridor, you fucking animal. You were practically salivating. Just like you're doing now."

She uses her free hand to swipe her thumb against the corner of your mouth.

"Pretty sure that's yours," you tell her before you slide your hands up her exposed sides and slip your fingers under her shirt, pulling it up and she quickly raises her free arm so you can slip it over it and over her head, leaving it around the arm still buried into your trousers.

There she is, bra and tits on show and being fucking annoyingly hot.

Even if she doesn't stop you from undressing her, she still berates you for it, "Look at you, can't wait to touch them, can you. Are you really that simple? See a pair of tits and you get hornier than a fucking dog in heat?"

"So says the girl who can't get her hand off my cock," you reply, hand slipping beneath her bra and your fingers closing around her nipple.

She raises an eyebrow and looks down at her chest, "Did I say you could touch me there?"

"So now we're talking consent, Miss 'Grab-cock-ask-questions-later'?" you snarl, fingers rolling the nipple in between them. "A bit late, don't you think?"

Shuhua's really stroking you now, even with limited space inside your shorts, she's able to use her thumb to circle around your sensitive tip with each jerk. "Yeah, well. I didn't sign up to get molested by a dickhead like you."

"Right back at you."

Shuhua laughs a little then cracks a wicked smile, one that is as seductive as it is contemptuous. The girl shrugs, reaches a hand behind her and unclasps her bra. She takes her hand out of your shorts and lets it fall off with her shirt. Bare little tits with stiff nipples stare at you—and you stare back. "Never seen a pair before? Or just not a pair on a girl as hot as me?"

"I've seen better."

"Yeah, sure you have sweetie." Shuhua tugs at the waist of your shorts and underwear until she pushes them down to your knees. "You know..." she starts as her gaze drops down to your aching shaft. "There's a rumour at our school that all the guys in your school are decidedly average down there, and are real bad at using them," she looks you in the eye with an eager smile, biting her lip.

"Want to know what they say about girls at your school?" You grab a hand full of her tit in a tight grasp and squeeze her flesh firmly, eliciting a sharp gasp. "They say all the girls are sluts but are fucking terrible at giving head. Funny, since all you seem to do is run your mouth." You push her back until it's your turn to have her pinned against the lockers. "Here, I'll show you how you can put that mouth to better use."

Pushing down on her shoulders, you guide her to her knees. "Hey, I never said that I—" You jerk your hips and you hit her on the cheek with your length. "The fuck?"

"You've been licking your lips since you pulled my shorts down. Stop pretending this isn't what you wanted." You rub yourself against her cheek.

"I should tear this ugly cock right off," Shuhua says as she wraps her fingers around the base of it. Then, before you have time to register it, her mouth is already on you, engulfing your head. The sudden wetness around your most delicate part, her tongue dancing along it, the suction her mouth produces; it's hard to comprehend all of it. What she says and what her mouth is doing contradict one another.

Then her head begins to bob, her lips firmly wrapped around your cock. As she sucks, she simultaneously strokes it, making sure no bit of you remains unserviced. It doesn't take long for her to build a tempo, and it doesn't take long for you to want more.

Your hand locks around her ponytail and she shivers when you pull at it. She glares at you but doesn't complain and continues working your length. Her mouth feels absolutely exquisite—warm, wet, and tight. With every stroke, the desire to be buried inside her gets stronger. You groan, moving her faster on your shaft.

"Rip it off, huh? Look at you sucking me off like the needy little whore you are. Just look at you."

Shuhua moans into you and she keeps on sucking. The vibrations the noise creates are an absolute pleasure. Your hips buck and the motion takes the girl by surprise, who immediately gags as you hit the back of her mouth. She immediately goes to draw back but the hand locked onto her ponytail refuses her release.

"Where the hell do you think you're going," you force your hips forward.

And you're off. You begin facefucking this annoying girl, who struggles and chokes every time you go balls-deep into her mouth. Still, not once does she try to push your hips, or her teeth to bite. Not once does her head make any gesture to signal that she actually wants you to stop, or even ease off. It seems she's determined to prove that she's not only better than all your cheerleaders, or your classmates, but she's also determined to prove that she's capable of taking everything you give, and all without needing to ask for respite.

"You're so much prettier when you aren't talking," you taunt her.

As a response, she stabs her nails into your ass. Hard. The pain makes you roar, both in surprise and anger. Shuhua simply responds by sucking you harder.

As fun as this is, the urge to ravage her more is still incredibly high, even if that means pulling out of the confines of the girl's sinful mouth. You give it a good couple of minutes before you finally relent and let her go. You pull your hips back and Shuhua instantly coughs, splutters and falls backwards onto her rear.

"The fuck do you think you're doing? I'm not done with that. Get it back here." She spits those words at you angrily, looking almost disgusted, with spit drooling down her chin and coating her lips.

You look at her, hunched over the floor, panting, in only her little yellow shorts. Looking more beautiful and desirable than you ever remember her doing on camera or out on the track. You fall on your knees in front of her and push your hand into her shorts, causing her breath to hitch and her pupils to dilate.

"Well aren't you eager?" she hums, letting out a husky purr as your fingertips tease the delicate lips of her entrance. "What's up, couldn't take any more of my mouth? We're you going to cum so quickly? I know you've never had anyone quite like me before."

"Not even close to cumming," you sneer. "In fact, let's get one thing clear. I don't have standards as low as the boys in your school, I don't just cum at the sight of some tits and the feel of your trashy mouth." Your finger slips past her lips and a surprised moan escapes her throat. "God you're fucking soaked."

"Trashy?" she scoffs and slowly rolls her body in response to your intruding digit. "Should have seen your face with my lips around you, you fucking adored it, dickhead. If you want disappointment, try being in my shoes. This pathetic excuse for fingering? It's like when I did it for the first time."

"Yeah?" You drive a second finger into her and curl your fingers as you begin to stand, forcing her to follow you to her feet. You push your body against hers, pinning her to the locker, squishing those tits against you.

She lets out a taunting, "Yeah" this time, huskily, while arching her back a little, raising those beautiful breasts. "And my first time was real bad. I couldn't even make myself cum. Maybe we do have something in common." While she's talking, you're using your other hand to free her shorts and panties from her hips, sliding them over that juicy ass that you press against the cold metal locker. "I doubt you have ever made a girl c—"

You move fast and hard. Your fingers curled into her cunt, palm pressed against her clit, thrusting into her, and your eyes fall right onto hers, piercing, right into her soul. Her eyes widen with shock and then quickly darken and roll back. Those sweet, vicious lips of hers open as her mind is stunned into silence and her face contorts in pleasure. "Cute," you smirk, speeding up.

"I—I'm fine. You—" You push your other hand against her neck and you lean right against her ear.

"Shut your pretty mouth," you growl, you thrust your fingers deeper. Shuhua can't control the shocks of her own pleasure as she grows limp, her eyes rolling back, her moans coming out uncontrollably and rapidly. Her pussy is quivering, pulsing, you can feel her orgasm growing inside.

You push closer and kiss her as the muscles in her lower belly spasm, and she trembles as her cunt clamps down on your fingers. Shuhua pulls and scrapes her fingers along your skin. "Fucking god, fuck," the girl tries to continue to speak, but she is in total ecstasy. You drink the words directly from her mouth.

When you pull away, her body falls away from the locker, but you hold her tightly and dip a hand right under the curve of her ass, keeping her standing. You smirk triumphantly. "Who can't make you cum, bitch?" you tease her.

"Fuck you," Shuhua mumbles into your ear.

"Oh, you will." You shuffle across the room, finding the nearest bench and falling back onto it, pulling Shuhua onto you. "This is all you're good for, I bet." You pull your shirt over your head and then Shuhua throws herself against your naked body. Her tits press against your bare chest, and your stiff cock is trapped between your stomachs.

"We'll see," she breathes, running a hand into your hair and yanking at the locks as she pulls herself upright.

Your lips meet hers, a passionate and desperate union as the need to be in her consumes your every fibre. Tongues dance and your hands explore one another's bodies. Groping, stroking, touching, squeezing, grinding. When the kiss ends, she leans her forehead against yours, her eyes lidded.

"I hate you," you growl into the space in front of her.

"You too," she says, hoisting her hips up over your cock. With a mischievous and playful look in her eye, she furrows her eyebrows. "But you won't when this is over. You're gonna fucking worship me."

Before you can think to retort, she sinks herself onto you and, after what feels like a torturously long series of minutes of teasing and waiting, your bodies finally unite. Her inner walls are unbelievably hot and wet, squeezing down around you as if desperate for you to remain buried within her. Shuhua makes no attempts to hide her expression, her head rolls back and her teeth press down on her lip to conceal an enchanting whine. Her breasts press firmly into your hands as you hastily reach to cup them.

It doesn't take long at all for the pair of you to adjust, and you begin to pump your hips beneath hers. She's fucking down onto you too and it's a mess, there's no rhythm, two different bodies fighting to control a single movement, all the while searching desperately for the best result. You're on different wavelengths, and it's glorious, the chaos is addictive. It's raw fucking, and it's fucking amazing.

As frustrating and confusing as it is, nothing in the world feels better right now. Your chest heaving with every desperate gasp as she grinds onto you and around you, her lust-filled gaze still struggling to fight away your shared frustrations, it's raw and incredible.

"Oh God, right there." Shuhua squeezes her eyes shut and buries her forehead into the crook of your neck, her body shuddering and tensing with every push you make into her. Her pace on you is irregular, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. But as her orgasm grows inside of her, she sinks harder and deeper down upon you, taking you as deep as she possibly can and as often as you will give it to her.

"Bad at using it, am I?" you jest with a strained voice, slapping her ass hard as the impact causes it to ripple. "So bad that you're cumming already?"

"Tch." She goes to speak, to say something witty and defiant, but the sensation hits and her eyelids flutter, she twitches and lets out a shuddering moan as another climax hits her, "Ah fuck. God." Her nails dig into the skin of your chest, hard, painful enough that you hiss. "I'm doing all the work here."

"As you should be. Getting the privilege to ride my cock, the least you could do is break a sweat," you tell her.

She opens her eyes to flash you a glare and she slams her body down on your hips a bit faster. "You just know— that you couldn't— fuck as good as me."

Shuhua rides you mercilessly, completely lost in her desire to get herself off again. You enjoy the way her tits bounce and the way you can freely land a series of spanks on her bouncing ass.

"Guess that makes me more of a winner than you'll ever be." She tries to bite her lip, to hide it, but the pleasure that shines through her features is impossible to miss. She cums again, harder, no doubt about it.

This time, when the climactic orgasm subsides, she fights against her exhaustion with ragged, heavy breaths. You can see her lips twitch. Words escape her, so instead, she focuses on attempting to ride your cock even more mercilessly, just like earlier.

"Looks like you're all spent," you continue and push a hand onto her hip, steadying her before shoving her aside and away, pulling out. Shuhua topples and stumbles onto the floor, with her hands on the bench, breathing heavily. She's bent over the bench and her back glistens with a thin layer of sweat, her ass up in the air. Her body trembles with anticipation.

You don't hesitate. Not for a single second.

Before Shuhua can so much as open her mouth, you're behind her, your hands on her hips, her skin slick.

"Here's your loser's prize," you tell her as you slide back home, back inside her, feeling yourself plunged so deeply. Her thick ass presses against your hips and you spread it to push in deeper. You take in the beautiful view of her well-toned, petite back. The outline of every muscle stretches and flexes as she claws desperately at the benches as her pleasure is recharged, and restored, as though the fire is reignited with your touch. She lets out a soft little hiss, the briefest hint of displeasure that's quickly overcome by her passion for the raw sensation of sex. She relishes your presence and your length, and as she relaxes once more, she allows herself to sink into the rhythm of the rut.

You fuck her, taking pleasure in the way her body pushes back against yours, your balls slapping against her, and the obscene wet noises as you take her from behind. It's a dizzying crescendo, a desire so great that it cannot possibly be contained. To both yourself and Shuhua, desire cannot be denied, for you to cum inside her.

All you have left now is to pound the life out of this smug bitch's tight cunt, one hard, sharp, aggressive thrust after the other.

"Finally—" You raise a hand and bring it down upon the cheek of her arse. Hard, harsh, jiggling. The skin flushes and burns an angry red. She squeals in delight, she arches her body up as she takes the rough fucking. "Finally something useful has come out of your fucking school. One good pussy, just for me." Another slap. Another cry.

"Making me cum, is all you're good for. Just a cock," she spits back as her body shakes and bucks back onto your hardness, "One good fuck, just for me."

Shuhua straight-up shrieks when you wrap a fist up in her ponytail and yank her backwards, arching her spine. She cums again like this, and the hot rush of pleasure sends you spiralling off the edge yourself. It is utterly satisfying, the burning in your loins, and the immense pleasure that follows as your dick unloads in powerful spurt after powerful spurt. All of the tension evaporates, and all the negativity flows away as you find absolute pleasure. Shuhua takes what you give to her and it's absolute bliss.

For the longest moment, there's nothing but moans and grunts as you cum together before you let her collapse against the bench and you fall over her. Shuhua heaves beneath you, your warm fluids slowly leaking out around your exhausted cock. You suck in deep, gulping lungfuls of air as you grind out the final dying sparks of a well and truly mind-numbing orgasm.

"Still feel the same way about me now?" you groan. Your cock slips out, followed by a mixture of your combined orgasmic release.

Her head lifts. Hazel eyes focus and then fixate on yours. She almost manages to mask the grin, but she can't help it. Shuhua bites her bottom lip and glances at the space where, moments ago, your body had been conjoined.

"I still hate you. Don't think this means I'm suddenly a fangirl."

"Of course not, it's in your DNA to hate me. Just like how the sight of you still makes me sick." You place a kiss against the top of her spine and savour the brief hum of approval she gives.

"Uh-huh." Shuhua laughs. "Shame you couldn't last a little longer... I was just about to let you fuck my virgin ass." She lays her forehead against the cool wood of the bench, and you rest your head between her shoulder blades. "I guess my pussy is just too much for you."

"Or maybe," you hiss into her ear. "Maybe I'm saving that for the next time I catch your obnoxious ass around here."

"You think there will be a next time?"

"I know there will."

[axelsagewrites]

For that Ned Stark request...I was thinking a smut with low-born reader, maybe - I don't really know if your comfortable writing about cheating, or it could be before Catelyn during the war or after - he could be needing relief due to stress or pressure and reader could acting like a bit of a minx...

Ned Stark*MiLord

Pairing: Ned Stark x f!reader

Summary: Ned befriends a baker who helps him manage his stress

Warnings: p i v sex, innuendos, oral m receiving, ig you could say cheating but Cat and Ned are privately separated cause I don't think Westeros would approve of divorce :/ 18+

Word count: 2992

Masterlist Here

For that Ned Stark request...I was thinking a smut with low-born reader, maybe - I don't really know if your comfortable writing about cheating, or it could be before Catelyn during the war or after - he could be needing relief due to stress or pressure and reader could acting like a bit of a minx...

It was hard not to be an admirer of the Stark men especially when you were always so close by them. One Stark man that is. ever since your arrival at Winterfell it was hard to keep your eyes off Ned Stark.

You had come to Winterfell a few weeks ago for work and ended up getting a job in the kitchens as a baker. It often meant you were awake before the sun to make the bread for everyone else’s breakfast. However, once you were finished with your work for the day around noon you were free to do as you pleased unless the chef requested your assistance on an extra shift.

One morning for you and night for everyone else you awoke to venture down to the kitchens to prepare the seemingly never endless amount of bread needed for Winterfell. There were other bakers as well of course but you were always the first to arrive at the kitchens each morning.

The moon was still shining brightly over the castle, and you walked slowly to bask in its light. There was no one else awake and wandering the corridors so you didn’t bother to much with your clothes. You had of course thrown on a dress, but your chest was very much exposed in it, something you enjoyed doing but the up tightness of the rest of the North seemed to frown upon. You also opted to carrying your cloak and savour the cold breeze on your walk as once you reached the kitchens you knew you would be sweating till you left them. Any other time of day and you may have felt exposed at your careless dress.

The walk also served as a time for you to try and wake yourself, something you apparently had not been doing well. Perhaps he moved with swift silence or maybe you were too tired to notice but when you turned the corner suddenly you smacked into the man you admired in secret.

It was not a soft bump either as a yelp came from your lips and Ned had to grab your shoulders to steady you, “My Lord, I’m so sorry,” you breathed out, suddenly awake, “I did not hear you,”

“It was an accident don’t fret. I didn’t hear you either” he assured you, his hands lingering on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch comforted you more than his words, “What are you doing up so late?”

“So early,” you corrected with a small smirk, too tired to bite your tongue. Luckily Ned chuckled as his hands fell from your shoulders and suddenly you were cold again, “I’m off to start preparing the bread milord,”

“Ah a baker,” Ned smiled down at you, “I never realised how early you had to wake up,”

“Its hard to get used to,” you admitted, smiling yourself in his company, “But we do what we must. Im sure others have it much harder,”

Neds smile faltered before a sad one replaced it, “We do what we must,” he agreed, “I suppose I should let you get to it,” he said as he turned to walk away.

Without thinking, just wishing for a few more words, your hand shot out to grab his arm gently. Ned turned round with eyebrows furrowed but no anger in his face, “If you don’t mind me asking milord is everything okay? it’s awfully late for someone who has not slept to be awake,”

Ned sighed, “It is,” but you saw him force the smile back onto his face, “I couldn’t sleep very well. My mind is…very active at times,”

“I’m sorry milord,” your hand was still on his arm but slipped down to just above his wrist, your fingers ghosting the edge of the fabric of his sleeve, “If you ever need a friend milord, I’ve been told im an excellent listener,”

“I appreciate that truly, but I do not wish to burden you,”

“Tis not a burden milord. It is my desire to serve house Stark,” you told him, suddenly feeling bolder at how he allowed your touch. You lowered your hand to hold his softly and he let you. “Whether it be in baking your bread or lending an ear or whatever you desire milord. I came to Winterfell to serve,” his hands were rough and callused but warm and you craved his touch when you felt how they were against your own skin.

Neds’ breath caught in his throat, “You honour me…” he trailed off, waiting for you to give your name which you did. “(Y/N),” it sounded so sweet off his tongue, “But I think it is time I found a bed,”

“Very well milord,” you took your hand back from his and you swore you saw him reach for it again before correcting himself, “Sweet sleep milord,” and with that you walked away, deliberately slow with a slight sway in your hips as you felt his eyes on you. however, once you turned the corridor you scurried to the kitchens

That was your first encounter with Lord Eddard but not your last. Occasionally you began to bump into the Lord on your walks to the kitchens. You were beginning to think he deliberately stayed up later to see you but then you had began waking earlier as well. He began to walk you down to the kitchens, sometimes even talking with you in the kitchen as you awaited your fellow bakers. Slowly but surely, he began to open to you.

He told you of the struggles he had with his fellow lords and his general duties but then he confirmed what many had speculated. He had essentially separated from Lady Catelyn after many arguments and fights. She had taken up her own chambers and only spoke to him regarding their children or in front of the other nobles.

From the bags around his eyes, you could tell it had not been an easy conclusion to come to. “It must be so hard to have to sleep alone again,” you said as you walked to the kitchens, Ned by your side.

Ned sighed but nodded, “Aye well I don’t know what else I can do,”

“There’s nothing you can do,”

“I made a vow,”

“It is not your fault she won’t let you love her,” you told him, trying to bring him some comfort, “You swore to protect her, and you have, give her children which you did, you have broken no vow,”

Another heavy sigh fell from his lips. You linked your arm with his, something you knew he was originally hesitant of but not once had someone even seen you walking together so now, he was more open to your touches. “I don’t understand how she could do it,” you said, and Ned shot you a curious look, “If you were my husband, I don’t think I would be able to leave your chambers to start with,” you said with a teasing smile.

Ned chuckled at your boldness. Up until now he had never reciprocated your flirtations or innuendos, you had even noticed him glancing at your chest in the past. He would always chuckle and move on. “If you were my wife, I wouldn’t let you leave them,” this night was different.

“You flatter me milord,” you said, placing a hand to your chest in fake shock.

His eyes lingered on your chest before flickering back up to your face that still wore its teasing smirk, “I’m sure you’ve experienced much flattery before,”

“I have,” your cockiness made him laugh again, “but hearing it from you is the sweetest of sounds,”

“You pay me too much mind,” he chastised with a smile. “I enjoy our early mornings,” he confessed.

You stopped walking, now outside of the kitchen door you would be trapped behind for hours, “As do I. I only wish…” you trailed off, your eyes never leaving his.

“Wish what?” he asked.

Stepping closer, you rested your hand on his chest. You only wished you could strip him of his tunic right there, “That you would finally invite me to your chambers,”

“I- “Ned began to stutter.

 But you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before placing your hand on the handle to the kitchen, “I need to go to work. Goodbye Milord,” you grinned before quickly disappearing into the kitchens leaving a shocked Ned behind.

Perhaps you had went to far when Ned did not appear the next morning for your usual stroll however it got more curious when you learned he did not appear in any halls. The servants and staff at Winterfell were like flies on the wall so it did not take long to hear what had happened. Apparently, breakfast had been tense for seemingly no reason then Ned withdrew completely to the gods wood where he stayed till dinner. While the rest of the Starks dined, he went to his chambers, not even taking a bite of food with him.

Luckily you were friends with the people cleaning up the kitchens after dinner, so they didn’t comment on the food you had swopped into your basket. Even when the halls were busy no one seemed to notice you. you were able to get to Ned’s chambers in no time, somewhere you had dreamed of but never entered.

Before you knocked you pressed your ear against the door listening for any sounds before knocking when you were sure he was alone. “Who is it?” a grumpy voice shouted through the door.

“It’s me milord,” There was silence again for a moment before the door opened revealing Ned in just his undershirt and trousers, “I brought you some supper milord,”

Ned glanced up the empty hallway first before he moved to the side to let you walk in. his chambers were filled with soft greys and blues. He had a fire going in the hearth and the drapes were drawn so only the flames and a few candles lit the room. You noticed how comfortable his four-poster bed looked in comparison to your own cot. The life of a lord you supposed.

“You’re too kind my dear,” he said as he latched the door behind you. he gestured for you to sit at the table he and you complied, placing the basket on the table. “Im sorry I couldn’t make our stroll this morning,”

“Its alright milord. You can make it up to me another time,” you said with a slight smirk as you began to unload the basket onto the table. Ned took a seat across from you as he looked at the mini feast you had brought him, “You spoil me,”

“You deserve it milord. You work harder than anyone else at Winterfell,” you reached out to hold his hand, rubbing your thumb over the rough skin. “I worry about you,”

“You needn’t worry love,” Ned placed his hand over yours, “You’ve already done so much for me. You’ve been a gift from the gods.” You chuckled at his words. You were sure the gods would not approve of what their gift to Ned had been thinking about.

Ned ate some of his food but insisted you ate also. You moved your chair closer during your talk so you would be sat shoulder to shoulder with him. This gave you the perfect opportunity to lean in ways that exposed your chest which Ned was quick to look at. It also allowed for your hand to rest on his arm or shoulder or to wipe something off his face. Any excuse to touch him really.

You were laughing at one of his jokes when Ned smiled down at you, “I’m not sure what your fascination is with me love because no one’s ever laughed that hard at my jokes,”

“It’s not my fault no one else has appreciated you properly Lord Stark,” you leaned closer with a teasing smile. Neds’ eyes locked with yours and slowly you moved ever so closer.

Ned leaned forward slightly, faltering as he did, “We shouldn’t,” he murmured.

“Why not?” you whispered as your nose bumped with his.

“It’s wrong,”

“But how can it be wrong,” your lips were now ghosting over his, “when it feels so right?” Ned swallowed hard as he did his best not to lose composure under your gaze. “Don’t you deserve to relax Ned? To have some fun?”

The words must have got to him cause suddenly his lips crashed onto yours, his hand going to the back of your neck to hold you close. You gasped at first but quickly your lips fell into sink. It was you that introduced tongues but finally Ned didn’t seem to complain. He groaned when you pulled out of the kiss. you pulled your skirt up around your legs to allow you to climb into his lap easier before connecting your lips to his again.

His hands found your knees before slowly making their up your thighs, his fingers squeezing into the flesh at the top of your thighs. You manoeuvred slightly so that your clothed core would be above his cock which you could feel harden under the friction. Without warning you began to roll your hips into his which caused him to half groan and moan into the kiss and for his member to harden considerably more. His hands found your hips to help you set the pace.

“I want you,” you broke the kiss, pressing your forehead onto his, “I’ve been waiting all these weeks,”

Ned gripped your hips and stood up, pulling you with him. You couldn’t help a giggle as he quickly dropped you onto the bed. It was so much softer than you had imagined. Ned stood above you, his hands pulling off his shirt, “Are you sure about this love?” he asked. “We don’t have to,”

You sat up quickly, grabbing him by the waistband of his trousers to pull him closer, “I’m sure. This is what I want. I want you,”

Ned leaned down and placed a hungry kiss to your lips before you helped him rid himself of his trousers, letting his hard cock spring free. Ned crawled above you, kissing your neck, before loosening the strings at the front of your dress and pulling it down off your body, taking your shift with it. “You’re perfect,” he praised as he placed a kiss to your breast, squeezing the other with his hand.

You whined from which touch; your body almost jolting when he took your nipple into his mouth. “Please,” you whimpered under him.

“Please what?” Ned asked, realising your nipple before continuing to trail wet kisses across your skin up to your neck.

You stopped him, taking his face in your hands and looking him in his eyes. You brought his face closer to yours so that your lips brushed against his as you spoke. “Please fuck me,”

Ned’s lips crashed onto yours as his hand went between your bodies to find his cock. He took it in his hands and lined it up at your entrance, his tip rubbing against your wet folds. Finally, after weeks of tension and stress you gasped as he slid into you. a burning sensation took over your as he slowly filled you up. Ned stilled for a moment, his head lowering so he could kiss your neck. “Tell me when love,” he said, his voice husky and his eyes closed.

Finally feeling at ease, with a smirk, you began bucking your hips up, rolling them into his, causing Ned to release a loud groan, “Fuck,” he gasped as he began to thrust into you, his hands at either side of your head, “You feel so fuck- good,” Ned praised as his eyes screwed tighter shut with pleasure.

Your arm wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to yours again for sloppy kisses as he continued his messy thrusts. Soon ned began to find a rhythm. He broke the kiss to lick his fingers before using them to rub circles on your clit. Moans began to fall from your throat, but Ned silenced them with his own lips. Your nails trailed down his back as you tried to conceal the moans he was causing.

Ned let out his own groans and soft moans which became strangled when your walls began to clench around him. You felt his cock twitching and began to roll your hips to meet him. His thrusts began faster but sloppier. Neds’ lips fell from yours, his head hanging low into your shoulder as he sped up. “Fuck, I can’t fuck,” he gasped as he quickly pulled out and fell to lay beside you, his cock still red and angry.

His hand went to move to his member, but you moved quicker. Without waiting for instruction, you moved to take him into your mouth. Ned gasped as your head bobbed up and down on his hard cock that was still wet from moments before. His hand went to your hair and within a few bobs of your mouth he was coating your mouth with his seed.

He was like a man gasping for air when you came up. “You still need to,” Ned tried to speak but you stopped him, placing a strong but brief kiss to his lips.

“Its okay milord,” you smiled as you held his face in your hands, “Another time?”

Ned grinned at your words, “Aye my lady. Another time for sure,”

No one was quite sure what had happened during Ned Starks seclusion but everyone at Winterfell noticed how much more relaxed he looked the next day.

Game of Thrones Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy 

[rockingrobin69]

Honourable Defeat

Harry bumped his hip into the chest of drawers in the usual place he normally bumped it. The corridor was narrow, but that wasn’t the problem: from this spot you could see into the living room, and on the rug was a sight so fucking impossible Harry normally lost a bit of, er. Focus. No, he had to focus, because he was carrying two cups of very-very hot tea (Draco doesn’t take it unless it can seriously damage his tongue). Had to focus, because this would be happening a lot now, every day even. Grinning, buzzing with all this giddy—excitement—bumping into the cabinet too, whatever, breathlessly spilling into the room.

“Hello there,” said a voice so soft that Harry had to spit out, “Malfoy. Malfoys.”

To the lump on the rug, wrapped in blue, sticky-smile smeared all across his face and a tuft of blond hair in his fist.

“Darling,” Draco said, half a laugh and half a cry, and Harry didn’t know if he meant him or the baby before, “sweetheart, that rather hurts. Ow. Please, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Scorpius must have minded, because all he did was giggle. Looked up at Harry, sharing the incredulity, probably, the absolute gob-smacking heart-crushing delight at seeing Draco like this. Sprawled on the floor in his crisp trousers and vest still buttoned, his face soft with laughter. Harry—erm. Was, erm. Not invincible.

“What?” Draco cried, or demanded, looking up at Harry now with that terrible smile, “not you, too? I was looking forward to having a conversation with at least one intelligent adult today.”

“The meeting,” Harry groaned. “They didn’t approve your request?”

Draco sighed, rolled so he lay on his back, hair still caught in Scorp’s fist. “No. It seems that adding a nursery is simply not feasible for the company at this time. The board suggested I gave up my position.”

“And?”

He snorted. “And nothing. I spent the afternoon trying to teach Scorpius how to curse. Nothing severe, maybe just jelly-legs, or, calling our CEO a bloody wanker would be nice.”

“Draco!” dropping to his elbows, helplessly drawn closer, “is that the kind of language—”

“Oh come on, Potter, he’s not even one. He doesn’t know what the word means.”

He smelled like Scorp’s lavender shampoo. His eyes, when they landed on Harry, grey and warm. “What?” Harry asked, voice thick with a smile, and Draco shook his head, then winced.

“Ow—Merlin’s sake, Scorp, you have the grip of a giant. Hey, maybe he’d end up a Catcher.” Turning back to Harry, the tiniest movement, “I thought you went to make tea?”

The cups were cooling on the table. “Forget tea, we’re not rooting for our son ending up a Catcher.”

“Any position in a Quidditch team,” Draco said in his dry tone, but his whole face lit up like a spark, making Harry hear what he actually said, making him—choke on something in his throat. “It’s the game that matters, Harry.”

“The game,” he agreed nonsensically. “Draco—”

“We’ll have to find a solution, of course. For the nursery situation. Now that my bloody wanker of a boss made taking Scorp to work impossible.”

Scorpius made a bright sound, something like laughter, and both of them turned to him, this little lump of a smiling face. “Well done, my love,” Draco cooed, and Harry—erm—didn’t cry or anything, but he did make a sort of sniffling sound, “Smith is a bloody wanker, hmm?”

“Draco!” Harry squealed, and he looked back with a devilish grin.

“Apologies. I wouldn’t want to teach… our son such language.”

They lay just lay there for a moment. Draco’s chest going with Harry’s rhythm, up, down, and this thing on his face, uncertain and—happy. Harry took his hand.

“Exactly. I’d expect you on your best behaviour from now on, Malfoy.”

“Of course,” with a flutter of those endless lashes. Scooting a touch closer on the rug. It carried the table, the one with the tea, another possible future disaster: Harry didn’t care about this either.

“Come here,” hand behind Draco’s head, another hand coming to cup his cheek. “You gorgeous, silly thing.”

“Harry,” half a moan, half a whisper, and his eyes closing, delicate lashes on Harry’s face, mouth coming up for a kiss. “Ha—ow!” and then started laughing, hysterical waves of it, loud in Harry’s ear: “Scorp, love, you have to let go, ha ha, ow, that really does, ha, hurt, you scoundrel,” and Harry was laughing too, was weak, in fact, in the centre of his core was weak for this, was defeated.

“You two,” he mumbled, swallowed, are my whole heart, a little frightened and deliriously overjoyed. On the rug, Scorp continued making nonsensical sounds, and Harry and Draco kept laughing.

(Flufftober day 17. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[where-ismydonkey]

DCA PROMPTOBER - DAY 12

CAROUSEL

When Moon had asked if you wanted to see the Pizzaplex’s carousel, you gave him a weird look. Because as far as you knew, there was no such thing. At least, not anymore unfortunately. Since you remembered it'd been scrapped years ago, after repairs had made it so costly.

Or so you thought, at least.

Honestly, you just assumed he was either trying to trick you or confuse you. Like he always did, with a charming twirl of his face and that perpetual grin of his.

Until one night—Hours after your shift—he’d scooped you up and out of the daycare. And as you giggled into his chest, you failed to notice as he went down a utilidor you didn't recognize. Cheeks flushed and smile wide, you wrapped one arm around his neck. And the other rested on his chest as you raised your eyebrows.

“Moon!” you whispered, voice full of amusement, “Where are we going?”

"The carousel."

Huh?

You tilted your head, trying to make sure you had heard him correctly. Looking up at him, or as much as you could from the angle you were at, you could only wonder why he was bringing this up again.

"Did you hit your head or something?" you asked confusedly, "Because there's no—"

"Look ahead."

Suddenly, you were set back on your feet. And as you wobbled from the sudden shift, he wrapped a hand around your waist to steady you. But you were too intrigued to thank him, as you were face to face with a tall, imposing metal door a few feet away.

No doubt it was bigger than you, and almost as big as Moon. And smack at the end of the corridor you two were in. That you also didn’t recognize.

And on that note, you turned to face him. There was a sweet smile on your face as you looked at him, "Yeah, I'm not going in there."

“Why?” his hold on your waist tightened, and he tugged you toward him. As you were brought forward, you yelped as he teased. “Don't tell me you're still scared of the dark?”

You gawked at him, “Hey! That's still a normal fear for some adults!"

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too—" you cut yourself off and asked as if he was capable of forgetting, "Okay, come on. Why are we here, Moon?"

"Carousel," he reminded you and nudged his faceplate against your face. His adorable way of a kiss, "I wanted to show you it."

“Aw. Well, that's a really sweet sentiment,” you leaned up to his face and appreciatively kissed the middle of his grin. Truthfully, you did feel a little excited at the improbable mention of it, “But there’s no carousel at the Pizzaplex anymore, Moony.”

He just stared down at you silently, and you stared back at him. Why did you have a sneaking suspicion you knew what was next? “…Unless?”

Moon took that as the right time to continue, “They may have decommissioned it, but never fully scrapped it,” he clarified, his hand leaving your waist. Instead, he moved to gently take your own hand, and carefully intertwined your fingers together. With that, he began to take slow steps backwards toward the door, and you had no choice but to tentatively follow.

As soon as his back bumped against it, he darted his elbow out to harshly push against it. And with a creak and a groan, the iron door opened. Inside, the room was dark and endless and you could only frown as your peered in.

No way in hell you'd be stepping in there.

So you stopped as he turned to walk in. His hand hadn't let yours go and it was only a moment before he noticed you'd stilled. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked down at you in silent question.

You shook your head, "I'll just stay out here."

"It's safe." he tried to reassure you, gradually letting go of your hand. He crept further into the room, waiting for you to follow, but you remained at the entrance. And you would stay there, at least until you were able to see what was in the room.

"I'll go in when I can see a little better," you smiled for his sake, "On that note, does the carousel have lights?—Is it even working?"

Moon crooned from further inside the room, and the sound of tinkering could be heard. You wondered what he was messing around with, "It was last time we tested it out," and you felt your heart skip a beat, "We wanted to make sure it was working. Just for you, Starlight."

With a besotted grin, you shook your head. All this confusion over a carousel was because they wanted to be romantic? You wanted to propose right now!

And just before you could consider it, soft lights belonging to the carousel came on. From the center of the room, it illuminated the room enough to entice you in. And as you stared in momentary shock, you could see Moon's sharp grin form the corner of your eye as he awaited you.

Willing yourself to walk in, you got a closer look at the revived, rotating carousel.

It almost was like you were in a trance, and sucked back into your childhood. Only reminders of fuzzy, colorful memories as you used to ride the merry-go-rounds as a kid. A ride that was fun, and seemingly endless to you in those moments.

Now, all you felt was your heart flutter as Moon came around to stand beside you. And you wished the moment could never end as you took his hand. Smiling over at him, the lights glowed around you two as the horses did a slow dance.

"Pretty, isn't?" he asked, staring right at you.

You flushed, and nodded all the same. Holding his hand, you readjusted your grip. And from the corner of your eye, you swore the lights from the ride reflected against his usually red eyes, "It is."

"You're such a flirt," you smiled through warm cheeks, "But thank you, you're pretty too I suppose."

"Who says I was talking about you?" he mischievously asked, and you swatted at him arm.

"How rude!” you grinned, ducking his free hand as he attempted to return the swat. However, he aimed at your head and you just chuckled. Darting away from another attempt, a string of laughter left you as you doubled over. Hardly noticing as Moon froze, suddenly several feet away from you.

Huh?—

His eyes were the first thing you noticed. Once a shade of red you expected, they shined with a purplish tint. You looked away, hoping it was just the light again. But as you looked back, he began to creep toward you.

"Run." came a staticky growl, making you jump.

“Moon,” you started quietly, “What's going on with you?”

"Run!" he'd hissed, teetering on a snarl. His steps were erratic, going back and forth as he seemed to struggle with himself. Until a hand of his darted out, nearly catching your face.

You sprang back, eyes growing wide. But before you could question him again, the lights of the carousel flickered once. And then twice. Then on the third time, it went out.

Immediately, you tried to run for the dim doorway. You couldn't see much, but that couldn't stop you.

How did you go from being more in love than ever to disorientated and a little scared in a matter of moments, huh? Just your luck!

Moon growled from somewhere behind you, "Run!"

And from afar came a shrill scream. A familiar sound that you didn't realize had been yours until it happened again, and the noise ripped out of your throat.

Purple, reddish eyes darted at you in hatred that made you want to cry.

"Get out of here!" you heard as you landed on the floor, trying your best to dodge the attack, "Run!"

Hissing, having landed on your shoulder, you struggled to get up. But too aware of the depraved cackling in the room, you whimpered. There was nothing else to do, and you knew it.

Moon had never liked disobedience, so when he chuckled darkly from above you, you made a run for it. Just like he had said.

Screaming, so raw it hurt your throat, you turned on your heel. You began a mad dash toward the open doorway, unable to process anything other than the warning the animatronic had been shouting. Ignoring that your legs felt like jelly, and your body was ready to give up. Throwing away the fact that this had all been a surprise for you, meant to make you grin and throw yourself into their arms.

And pushing down the reminder that whatever was chasing you, was not the robot you loved.

So with that, your whole body trembled as you ran out into the corridor, swift footsteps following you.

—

ERMMMM so this was a lil spooky HUEHUEHUE

[katyawriteswhump]

power of love, part 16

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 17 Part 18

Steve POV

Two soldiers escort Steve into the former Soviet base. He’s gotten his wrists cuffed behind his back, which makes his shoulder ache miserably. His bare feet are bruised and icy-cold—much worse than in the stupid ditch—and his thoughts race as wildly as his pulse:

The army is using the Soviet base. Okay, I was right about that. I was right and it sucks, because Robin was righter, and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do. I can’t even hear the crazy-ass water thing anymore. Oh my God, oh my God!

The apparently endless corridor reaches a spacious hall with racks of weapons. It reminds Steve of somewhere the evil emperor would hang out in Star Wars. Talking of bad dudes—a guy with a shitload of medal ribbons paces over.

“Colonel O’Sullivan,” says one of Steve’s guards. “This one says he’s Eddie Munson.”

A small tank loaded with an antiaircraft gun rolls by. Steve disguises a sniffle behind a mocking laugh. “I’m flattered. Did I make the FBI most-wanted list?”

“If you mean ‘did Eddie Munson make it?’ then no,” says O’Sullivan, matter-of-factly. “You and I both know he didn’t murder those kids. It is simply convenient for the public to believe so. Whereas you, Steve Harrington?” Steve can’t suppress a flinch, and clings to his only comfort—Eddie got away. “I get why you lied. You’re up to your ears in far worse trouble, so let’s cut to the chase. Where’s the girl, Steve?”

“What girl?” 

O’Sullivan raises his arm sharply. Steve’s gotten a sudden urge to shout, I work for Scoops Ahoy. He’s gonna get hit, and it’s not going to go well, and all his worst fears rip through him like a tornado:

I died here before. Unless I dreamed it all, and what happened with the weather was JUST THE GODDAMN WEATHER, and I never drowned, and I don’t have superpowers, and it’s all a mad coincidence, and I’ve literally gone nuts.

O’Sullivan, nevertheless, hasn’t hit him. Instead, he presses a hand to Steve’s back, above his cuffed wrists. He steers Steve around to look across the vast room. “You see this impressive facility?”

Steve slows his shuddering breaths enough to say: “G-got these things called eyes. Can’t exactly m-miss it.”

“It was built by the Soviet invaders,” continues O’Sullivan. “We shouldn’t give them too much credit. These tunnels beneath Hawkins were already here. Some of them were old waterways, and others—Brenner’s pet made those. With the power of her twisted mind.”

That is a total bunch of bull!

O’Sullivan turns to confront Steve, his face carved with stern lines. “Do you not understand? We are being gentle, because of your age and medical history. Nevertheless, those who protect Eleven are traitors to this country. Traitors must be eliminated. SHE must be eliminated.”

O’Sullivan keeps talking. Blah, blah, blah! Steve tunes out, anger simmering way hotter than his fear. He doesn’t even know El that well. She’s still one of the kids. His kids. I’d do anything to protect them. Anything… Anything.

Finally, he feels the water, thrumming in his blood. Even better, he’s starting to get it. 

That scream. That fire-and-fucking-fury tide sweeping through the tunnels. These are waterways, carved by nature, ancient and beautiful. At least, they were once. Like Lovers Lake, they’ve been violated by the Vecna and the Upside Down. Then by the Soviets and now by these knuckleheads, who seem little better…

He hears that strange voice again, the caressing whisper that drew him here: You are home, Steve. You know what you must do.

To be fair, he’s not exactly sure. All the same, he jerks his chin up, curls his lip: “I’m not gonna tell you shit.”

“Poor decision, son.” O’Sullivan nods emphatically at some guy hovering behind Steve. “Put him in with the other one. Let’s see what happens.”

“The other one? What the f—? Who!?!” Steve’s bravado dies in an instant. Oh my God, they caught Robin, and I’m gonna have to do something, and I still don’t know how! I can’t let them hurt her. Oh crap! OH CRAP!

His knees sag, and he’s scared his feet will fly from under him. The guards grab his arms and drag him away.

A door swings open, revealing a small box of a room. Steve absorbs the sight of Eddie curled in a corner, bare footed also, spattered with mud. The world stops spinning for several seconds. Then Steve’s uncuffed, shoved inside, and the door slams closed behind.

Eddie scrambles up, more doe-eyed and crumpled than ever. Steve lunges forward, grabbing him by the front of his t-shirt and shaking him hard: “You total braindead moron! What the hell are you doing here?”

…

Eddie POV

Eddie has spent the last ten minutes picking at his dirty nails and going completely out of his head. Then the door flies wide, and Steve is pushed into the poky cell-like room. 

He stares at Eddie through a mass of messy hair, with huge eyes that seemed to have swallowed the anger and pain of an entire galaxy. A dozen resentful thoughts riff through Eddie’s head, ending with: Oh, Stevie, Sweetheart. Not you too.

He launches himself out of the corner where he’s wedged himself. He’s about to fling his arms around Steve, when Steve grabs him by the front of his t-shirt and shakes him so hard his teeth rattle: “You total braindead moron! What the hell are you doing here?”

Eddie shoves him off: “What d’ya think I’m doing? Come for the vibes? Oh, and thanks for the note. Real touching, man.”

“Yeah, that was a bust, seeing as HERE YOU ARE, HAWKINS’ MOST DIMWITTED FREAKSHOW!” Steve rubs his wrists, then squares his shoulders with a touch of King Steve swagger, that… Oookay, this does not ring true. “You know what? I’m happy these suckers didn’t get one of my real friends—you do make me wanna hurl. You know that?”

“Why are you spouting this crap?” He scans Steve quickly, seeking any obvious fresh injury. “You’re not being straight with me. What happened? Did they hurt you?”

Steve’s teeth pinch his lower lip, stained red where he’s repeatedly chewed it. Then the barest whisper: “No… no. You?”

“No. Oh Christ, Stevie, I get it, okay? What you wrote.” Eddie moves in for the hug again. Steve jolts away super-quick. Eddie jolts too, half-expecting to be headbutted. 

“I had everything handled, and now… now… I HATE YOU!” yells Steve. Then, leaning closer, impossibly soft: “They’re watching us, Eddie, I’m sure. If they think I care, they’ll hurt you to get me to talk and… and Jesus Christ, I haven’t a clue what’s real anymore. All I know is I’m sorry… and I need to kiss you.”

Steve’s mouth barely brushes Eddie’s, yet the tingling, breathy warmth, the goddamn undiluted sweetness—it slams a sledgehammer blow straight into Eddie’s heart. Then Steve moans, sways backward.

Goddamit, he kissed me. Oh shit, and he wasn’t kidding. I MAKE HIM SICK!

Eddie lunges to catch Steve, never makes it. The door swings open again, and Steve collides with that instead.

To Eddie’s relief, Steve’s not totally out of it. He rights himself, shakes his head blearily. A dude with a ton of ribbons and shiny gold bling—the dreaded Colonel O’Sullivan, Eddie guesses—steps in, flagged by a couple of his henchmen.

One of them grabs Steve, wrenching his arms behind him. O’Sullivan regards Eddie like something he’s scraped off the bottom of his boot, then performs a smart about-turn and seizes Steve’s drooping chin. 

“Tell us what you know about the girl, Harrington. Or Loverboy’s gonna wish he’s never been born.”

Part 17

...

I promise good things will happen for these two starting next chapter… Sorry for the cliffy, but it’s all in the name of my stupid plot (for what it’s worth!)

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 17 Part 18

[lorei-writes]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a headcanon/one shot type thing with Kenshin & Hideyoshi with a super innocent/pure/kind/aloof type MC? Where they are super protective and sheltering of her (and romantically involved)? I absolutely love your page and was so happy I found your account. It keeps me breathing.

Hello, Anon! Ah, it seems that I'm (un)fashionably late this time around. Oh well. But I see you did have some more specific idea in mind already, given your further suggestions? So I hope this post now is a pleasant surprise.

Notes from the future: unexpected turns were taken, it appears

Innocent / Kind MC

Characters: Hideyoshi, Kenshin

Content Warnings: none

Hideyoshi

Hideyoshi's primary mode is to protect. As such, it comes as little surprise that, when involved with a person he deems as too pure, he's more alert than ever.

That being said, he doesn't view that purity as a bad thing, no. It is more of a... trait he wishes to cherish and shelter at all cost, especially given the times of turmoil they've both found yourself in. He wants to believe that it is possible for people to stay this way, and believes it to be means of bringing forth a brighter future.

He still worries, however. Especially when others see it as a liability, and thus try to exploit his lover's kindness.

No matter. He just has to stay close, and to watch over them when possible. He won't let them be cheated out of money, he won't let anybody kidnap them, he won't let Mitsuhide drag them into his schemes --

Unless he fails. Nobody's infallible, after all, especially not when swarmed with as many duties as Hideyoshi.

The corridors of the Azuchi castle seem nearly endless as Hideyoshi paces down them, one thought stubbornly stuck right at the front of his mind. The dinner time has long passed, but even so, nobody has seen his lover anywhere around, their meal untouched. The possibilities for what could have gone wrong are endless, and quite frankly, they do cloud his judgement. Hideyoshi sighs, both defeated and deflated.

Enemies, or friends, no matter -- in times of need (and now certainly is such a time) he can think of one person to aid him in his struggle. Mitsuhide.

Hideyoshi breaks his vow of "no running in the corridors". Any injury is worth arriving at the Akechi manor sooner, even if just by a mome--

Hideyoshi freezes. There they are, happily sipping on tea, Mitsuhide keeping you company. His shoulders slump in relief. "Oh? Could it be that you've forgotten to inform Hideyoshi about your whereabout, little one?"

Their face pales. They explain what had transpired -- about the ronin that troubled them while they were out shopping in town, about Mitsuhide's intervention, about the worry they wished to spare Hideyoshi from, and about how they forgot of time... They feel guilty. Is this very result not what they were trying to avoid?

Hideyoshi crushes his lover in an embrace. To think that all this happened while they were outside the reach of his hands...

He spoils them rotten that night. And the following day. Heavens, have mercy on this man. Is it too much to wish for those who he cherishes to be safe?

"Hideyoshi... Can we talk?" they ask, a bit unsure of themselves. "Hm? Yes, of course." He blinks in surprise, their hands reaching for his. "I'm sorry about what happened, but... Please, don't worry about me this much. Please, Hideyoshi. You've only seemed to frown since then."

Oh. How could have he forgotten? To love is to care. And his love is nurturing, not suffocating and punishing. Perhaps he has to learn to forgive himself... and trust that his lover's goodness is not something that's easily bent out of shape.

Kenshin

Now, Kenshin is the one who struggles here most. He has known this world to be a brutal place that tears hearts out of chests. His lover? They're a single sakura bloom, floating atop a cup of water, just a single gust of wind away from being spilled into nothingness. How is he not to worry?

He'd like to have them locked in his castle, but then that doesn't seem to be enough either. Gardens have thorns. Wood has splinters. Maids have tongues, and most importantly, his lover has eyes. Eyes that are not happy.

It takes his all to dare be more trusting... Although that may be not the right word, not exactly. It is more similar to a believer praying upon their faith to withstand the trials -- he does want to believe. He is just... scared. Overwhelmed. Worried.

But he is not alone, for better or for worse.

Shingen is a safe person, Kenshin is sure of that much. However, Shingen still has a tongue. Perhaps that much should be remedied. "Thank you for the tea, lord Shingen. It's delicious," his lover says, a content smile on their face. "It is, isn't it? It is also said to have the most glamorous effect on the heart." "Oh?" "It allegedly aids it in its work, and so puts stars in the eyes of those who drink it. I can certainly see that claim being true... It also produces the loveliest blush, ---"

They cannot hear a word more, Kenshin's hands covering their ears. He does not appreciate the direction in which the conversation is going, but... Nevertheless, it seems to provide him with some ease.

Overall, the greatest challenge for Kenshin is to reign in his anxieties. There's a thin line between offering shelter to somebody, and suffocating them in your shadows -- and hell, he is just as terrified of losing his lover as of the latter.

He eventually manages to find some balance, although he remains on the cautious side. He prefers to accompany his lover, doesn't mind speaking for them if needed be, likes to hold their hand, and will stare down anybody who as much as looks at them threateningly.

In the end, Kenshin himself needs reassurance that everything is okay. And he will ask for it. In form of an embrace.

He wants to be better. He wants for their light to shine. He just... struggles with picturing a world in which they are not torn apart, strictly because of what he considers to be the beauty of their heart.

Tag List: @cilokgoang @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86

[bodynblood666]

Bonded Together. Ch 2: The First Practice

parring: Phantom and Aurora (platonic)

Content: Swiss being Swiss, slight panic attack, angry Dew but Copia and Aeth scold him.

word count: 2,076

summary: the first practice didn't go quite as Phantom had hoped. Sunshine reveals she is looking for someone to replace her but the search isn't going well. But she believe Aurora will be able to take over for her. Is Aurora up for it?

Chapter 2: The First Practice 

The early morning sun shone through the flimsy curtains of the room. Casting precious light onto the ghouls still lying in bed, and onto the plain boring walls. Phantom starts to stir awake when a particular ray of sunlight hits him right in the eye. The tear marks from last night still sit on his cheeks, like an old uncomfortable sticker. Phantom full opens his eyes and blinks at the sleepiness from them. He moves to get up and out of bed, but a body behind him prevents him from moving. Aurora. How could he forget she was still in bed. He honestly thought that sometime in the middle of the night she would leave and gone back to her room. Phantom rolls over to cast his gaze upon Aurora’s sleeping face. The only emotion it carried was that of contentment. Maybe staying in bed for a little bit longer wouldn’t be so bad. Just as Phantom was starting to lay down and get comfortable again, heavy footsteps can be heard almost sprinting to his door. Then suddenly, his bedroom door flew open, almost breaking the wall when it slammed against it. In the doorway stood a small, structured figure. Smoke slowly started to fill the room and the figure standing in the doorway kept smoking a cigarette. 

“Hurry up you two! I’m not letting the reason be that breakfast is late be because of you two!” the voice yelled at the two, now frightened, ghouls in bed. As quickly as the figure came, it disappeared.  

“Dew! Don’t yell at them. They had a big day yesterday; they can sleep in if they want to.” Rain’s calm, monotone voice echoed in the near distance.  

“But you know Mountain’s rule! ‘No one is allowed to eat unless everyone is present at the table.’ He follows it to a T Rain, and I want my bacon.” Dew barks back to his pack mate, clearly distressed over his bacon. 

Phantom and Aurora scramble out of bed, with Aurora bringing Phantom’s comfort along with her to protect her delicate skin from the icy cold morning air. They race down to the main dining hall, almost getting lost in the almost endless corridor of the Ministry. But soon enough, they make it to the dining room, although slightly out of breath. There, at the same table from dinner last night, the rest of their new pack mates sat chatting amongst themselves. Someone of them looked like they had been up for hours, and someone these looked like they had just woken up.  

“Aurora, there you are!” Cumulus exclaims as she walks over to them. “We were looking for you this morning. Thought you had ran away for a second.” 

Aurora gives Cumulus a warm smiles and replies, “Sorry, I probably should have told you where I went.” 

“Ah no that’s ok. You don’t have to tell us where you went. It was just strange you disappeared.” Cumulus says before taking Aurora’s hand and leading her to the table. Aurora in turn, grabbing Phantom’s hand. “Now let's eat before Dew gets even more pissy.” 

As Aurora was sitting down, she felt warm strong hands start caressing her shoulders, and a head lower down to one of her ears. A hot breathy voice whispers in her ear. “This isn’t allowed at the table, little miss princess.” 

And in a quick movement the comforter that was protecting her from the cold, was ripped away from her body in one quick motion. Heat rises to her face and an almost cartoony blush fills her cheeks. When she turned to see who ripped away her comforter from around her, she saw a tall ghoul with a curly mop of a head of hair smiling down at her.  

“Swiss, leave her alone.” Cirrus says from the other side of the table, crossing her arms. “She as just summoned, give it a bit before you try seducing her, ok.” 

“Sorry, Rus but whenever I see a pretty new ghoul, I got to get really close to them.” Swiss says crouching down to Aurora’s height, looking her dead in the eye. Aurora stares back at the fellow multi ghoul, with big doe eyes. The bright pink blush spreading across her whole face and neck now.  

Before Aurora can say anything to the multi ghoul, Mountain finally brings in breakfast, to Dew’s delight. Swiss stands from his crouching position and wonders over to his seat across the table and next to Sunshine. Aurora watches Swiss closely as he walks away. A million thoughts ran through her head in an instance. Two of them being, ‘what was that all about’, and ‘is it bad I want him to do it again.’ 

Aurora quickly tries to compose herself before anyone notices her flustered appearance. Unfortunately for her, someone did notice. When she lifts her head up from looking over herself, she is met with hungry golden eyes staring into her own mixed matched eyes. She couldn’t believe Swiss was sitting directly in front of her. She could have sworn he was sitting at the other end of the table yesterday at dinner. Aurora felt her face starting to flush yet again. She tried looking anywhere else in the room besides Swiss’ hungry gaze. 

“S-So uh,” Aurora says, trying to strike up conversation. “The first practice is today, right? What am I supposed to be doing while you guys are all at practice?” 

“I guess you can sit in on practices. At least until we find you something to do around the Ministry,” Aether replies, downing his morning coffee as Dew steals a few slices of his bacon.  

Dread sets in on Phantom as he realizes that soon enough, he will be on tour with the band and Aurora will stay here in the Ministry. His hands start to shake as he dives deeper into his thoughts. What if during their tour she forgets about him? What if he forgets about her?  

Breakfast wizzes by in a haze. It is only when Dew starts the first guitar riff of Kaisarion, Phantom snaps back into reality. When did he get in the practice room? Better yet, when did practice start? Standing in front of the ghouls on stage is Coipa, Aether and Aurora. Phantom guesses this isn’t a full practice since Copia isn’t off stage awaiting his queue. Phantom follows as many queues as he can remember, but he does forget many and plays many wrong notes. He looks over to the other side of the stage and sees Dew glaring at him as Rain plays his bass line at the start of Con Clavi Con Dio. Phantom whips his head to face the front of the stage as quickly as he could. He tries to remember all his guitar riffs for the rest of the songs, hoping not to meet Dew's wrath. But when it comes to his turn to play, he blanks.  

“I can’t take this anymore!” Dew shouts, throwing one of his picks on the ground. In that moment, everybody stops playing and turns to start at him. “He keeps messing up Copia. He’s not working out!” 

“It’s his first real practice Dew!” Aether yells back at him from his spot in the audience.  

“Aether is right Dewdrop. Don’t be mad at him, he only had a 30-minute practice session yesterday. He's learning. I’m not expecting him to be perfect after 30 minutes of practice. In fact, he’s doing a good job so far,” Copia says sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. At that, Dew shags his shoulders a little bit as an embarrassed looks appears on his face. Copia pinches the skin between his eyebrows and sighs. “That’s enough for right now. We will continue later.” 

Phantom was the first one to leave the practice room. Speedwalking out of the practice room after placing his guitar on its stand. Aurora is next to follow out of the practice room, following after Phantom. Soon enough, the practice room is cleared out, except for two ghouls, Aether and Sunshine. Sunshine finally steps off her platform and walks to the center of the stage and stands next to Aether. 

“I take it you haven’t talked to Copia yet?” Aether asks.  

Sunshine shakes her head with a no. “No not yet. I was hoping I could find somebody to replace me before I told him. But the search hasn’t been great. The other multi ghouls don’t have what I’m looking for.” 

“We need a lot of help here Sunny. Ifrit and Omega are struggling as it is. Mist is doing everything she can as well. We really need your help.” Aether begs. Sunshine smiles up at him and places her hand on his cheek and caresses it.  

“I know Aeth. I’m trying to find someone, it’s just hard,” Sunshine slowing removes her hand from his cheek as she gets an idea. “I could see if Rora is able to replace me! It would be good for not only the band but for Phantom too. They have a special relationship, and they probably don’t want to be separated! Thanks for the idea Aeth!” Sunshine exclaiming jumping off the stage and running out of the room in search of Aurora. 

Aether is left behind in the practice room, standing there completely clueless. “But... I didn’t say anything...”  

After running through the endless corridors, Sunshine finally reaches the ghoul den. She bursts through the big iron door and roams her eyes upon the ghouls on the sagging couch. No Aurora. She progresses further into the ghoul den and opens every door she can. Still no Aurora. Sunshine searches the ghoul den for close to 10 minutes and she can’t seem to find Aurora. She walks about to the living room, trying to think of where Aurora could be. 

“Whatcha looking for, baby?” Cirrus asks wrapping her hands around Sunshine’s neck from behind. Sunshine turns her head to look at Cirrus. 

“I’m looking for Rora, Rus,” Sunshine replies. “You know where she is?” 

“Yeah, she’s in the garden with Phantom and Mount. Phantom was having a hard time with what Dew said and Rora was trying to console him. Mountain saw and took both outside, hoping to help them in any way,” Cirrus tightens her hold on Sunshine. “Why?” 

“I gotta ask her something,” Sunshine taps Cirrus’ arm, signaling for her to let go, which she does. “Thanks honey.” Cirrus smiles and watches Sunshine disappear behind the iron door, but not before telling her to visit later with a flirtatious tone to her voice. 

It doesn’t take long for Sunshine to reach the garden as the den is close to the exit of the Ministry. She wanders around the grounds of the Ministry for a bit. She starts to wonder if Cirrus lied to her about the three of them being out here. But soon enough, she sees the large antlers, she’s grown to love, peaking over some flower bushes in the near distance. She smiles and slowly starts making her way over to Mountain, getting a little insight into the conversation he was having with Phantom and Aurora. 

“And these are Ghost Orchids also known as Dendrophylax Lindenii,” Sunshine hears Mountain say. “They are native to Florida, the Bahamas and Cuba. Now we’re not really supposed to have them, but the Ministry was able to pull some string, when Primo was papa, to be able to get these. Primo was very into plants when he was here.” 

The joyful sounds of Phantom and Aurora’s oohs and awes ring through Sunshine’s ears as she approaches. Then she hears Phantom innocently asks, “What happened to Primo?” 

Mountain sighs, then replies, “Unfortunately, Primo is no longer with us. He has passed on to his next life,” As Sunshine rounds the corner of bushes of the garden, she hears sorrowful ohs from the two newer ghouls. Mountain turns his head when he notices another presence in his garden. “Hi Sunny, whatcha doing here?” 

“I was looking Aurora. Rus said she was out here with you.” Sunshine replies smiling at them. 

“Oh uh, ok,” Aurora says standing up following Sunshine to the gazebo in the middle of the garden. “What is it, Sunshine?” 

“How would you like to replace me and be a part of the band alongside Phantom?” Sunshine asks with a smile on her face.  

“Huh? Are you serious, Sunshine?” Aurora asks in awe.  

[dmagedgoods]

🎂 for Sal?

🎂 for a scene from a birthday The whole house reminded him of a humming beehive, only that the bees scurrying from room to room were dressed in solemn black instead of fancy stripes. Nevertheless, they spread the same feeling of chaos while every single one followed a strict plan and stuck to a predestined path. Salvadore pressed the adorned leather book to his chest. Tightly. The corridor felt endless and his heart throbbed louder and louder in his own ears. Eventually, he reached the high ornamented door. And as usual, it was guarded. One of the uniformed men stopped him. “What is the matter, young lord?” He was not allowed in the rooms behind, but maybe today. Only once. Salvadore tried to swallow his fear, to strengthen his back, and to appear more intimidating than he felt looking up at the huge man in front of him. “I want to speak to mother. Let me in,” he demanded. “Lady Eleanor is quite busy and wishes for no interruptions until the celebrations begin.” The celebrations where she would be surrounded by all those strangers and at father’s side. “I will be quick!” “Unfortunately, this answer is final, young lord.” His throat felt tight but he fought down his emotions and turned away with an angry glare towards the guardsmen. He dropped his gaze to the valuable book in his hands he had found in one of the hidden shops he wasn’t allowed to visit. Eneas took him there in secret sometimes. When he had spotted the black leather with the golden symbols and touched the heavy blank sides of expensive parchment, he had known it was the perfect gift for mother’s birthday and her beautiful sketches. With bitter disappointment, he let it fall into the trash the moment he reached his room again. “What’s wrong, Sali?” His brother sat on his bed, grinning like the disgusting fool he was. “Get lost!” “Always whining for mommy’s attention. She doesn’t want to see you. She doesn’t want you here. No one does. When will you finally get it?” “She doesn’t want to see you either, moron.” It was a statement more than an attack. The bitterness had made its way into his voice and didn't even leave room for anger. His brother’s lips tightened in badly disguised rage. “What are you talking about? I saw her this very morning and we went for a walk in the garden!” Salvadore snorted. “Liar.” “I’m not lying!” His brother jumped to his feet as if he wanted to attack him. But then he unclenched his hands and instead smiled at him coldly: “I visit her all the time. She just doesn’t want to be reminded of you because you’re useless and abnormal and annoying to her.” He turned around and – in leaving – knocked over a pile of books on his shelf. Irritated, and with a stinging pain in his chest, Salvadore left the room as well. – Only that he used the balcony instead, and its balustrades to climb up the roof. Cold wind tore at his shirt. He didn’t mind it. With a sigh, he stared into the clear, cloudless sky. He wanted to be alone, not bothered by anyone. In half an hour the maids would demand him to get ready. – Unless he decided not to be found.

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

Sneaky fixes and little stuff I searched while writing

I made many, many messes writing WotQ. Some I corrected retroactively, e.g., Oscar was originally called "Chief Detective Superintendent Livingstone" in Captured although the title didn't exist yet when he was working at Scotland Yard.

In Chapter 1, I changed a sentence from "Cloudia put out her fan, which she had got by her cousin Constantia as a gift after she had visited Japan" to "Cloudia put out her fan, which she had got from her cousin Cathleen as a gift after she had received the opportunity to visit a small island in Japan". I sneakily fixed the grammar issue, the cousin (I honestly didn't even remember that I accidentally wrote Constantia instead until I looked up that sentence again... it was always supposed to be Cathleen), and included an explanation of how Cathleen could go to Japan during Sakoku (the small island is Dejima, the only place foreigners could visit; I mentioned that in the Freebird notes).

Most recently, I fixed this sentence from Captured while writing Destruction: "Say, Oscar, when was the last time we all have been here?" which, of course, does not make any sense because Cecelia is talking about the AoE gathering for the Hanged Men Case which was in London. They obviously wouldn't have come together at the manor then! (It's now "Say, Oscar, when was the last time we all have been together?")

Sometimes, I announce fixes if they're larger, but sometimes I just do it without a word... I updated the Ao3 version multiple times to fix small issues here and there. (I never fix up the chapters on tumblr, unless I catch an error right after posting. Like the stupid (but minor) Zucchini 2 mistake orz) For last year's anniversary, I rid myself of a set of sentences that have been bothering me for years in Frightening. Their removal did nothing but ease my mind. I also changed the wagon number in Ecstasy from Yvette and Jacques being four wagons ahead to five while puzzling out Locomotive Run.

I never do retroactive fixes that change up anything of consequence though, i.a. because that would be mean (how would anyone be able to figure anything out if everything kept changing retroactively? this isn't the One-Punch Man manga).

Other times, I cannot change a mistake retroactively because doing so would mean severe rewrites, e.g., the zucchini issue. Or, to add to the endless talk about trains, the corridor coach issue that began with Laughing Together, as I mentioned in the Ecstasy notes.

(As a background: I received The Wolves of Willoughby Chase when I was ten years old and reread it a lot in the following few years, but haven't done so in very long. It's a lovely book (Simon is an artist because of the Simon in that book! Though he wasn't named after him but after another fictional Simon.), and I was convinced the "only" changed historical aspect was the addition of wolves. Early on, a character takes a train with corridor coaches and gets told to "use the handbrake" if a stranger talks to her. If only I had bothered to open the book and check the author's note before writing Laughing Together all these years ago... You know, the author's note that starts with: "This book is set in a time of English history that has never existed - shortly after the coronation of Jacob III the Good in 1832." Well, at least that idiocy brought me Locomotive Run. (I've also since found out there's a whole trope about wrong train depictions. It's very common to get them wrong, apparently.))

It's ultimately all little stuff no one cares about but me. Apart from the one time, someone on FF.net told me that the Catholic Marcel could not possibly have children, no one has ever pointed anything out to me. He's a Protestant now, and I really wish I had just said Nicolette was his orphaned niece and not his daughter orz (Oh, and others pointed out the "verdadero" bit in Meeting the Queen, saying it was wrong - but that's their mistake, not mine.)

Anyway, all that has made me question myself a lot and I now google and check stuff more while writing. (That, of course, only reduces the amount of mess ups instead of completely eliminating them...)

Some stuff I can remember from the top of my head (and that I haven't mentioned in chapter notes yet; I did rather thorough ones lately, so there's not much else, I think):

"Now, at least, they weren’t packed like sardines in a can." (Locomotive Run) -> Were sardines canned in 1848? Yes, canned fish has been a thing since the late 18th century.

Parts of a train. (Locomotive Run) -> Looked up train vocabulary, particularly for the front bit where the driver is (the cab) and the most front "wagon" (that's the locomotive).

Parts of a church. (Malady 3) -> To be able to better describe their movement within the church. Nave, ambulatory, etc.

"down the rabbit hole" -> I remember that I wanted to use that idiom in Cloudia's POV while she was in the Witch's Castle, though cannot recall when/where exactly. I removed it because Alice in Wonderland came out in 1865, and that idiom didn't exist beforehand. (Cedric's POV includes "I fell into the rabbit hole to the Land of Sleep" in Travelling. He has Grim Reaper privileges, so it works here! I like having fun with his POV and including modern stuff, e.g. Merci Chocolate (existed since 1965) in Locomotive Run and Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion in Ecstasy.)

utility belt (Ecstasy, Locomotive Run) -> Milton has one of them. They came to be in the late 19th century (before, people did put stuff in their normal belts, but not in the Batman way, of course...) A very deliberate little anachronism on my side :) Just like...

radar technology (Destruction) -> No Overseas Watchdog Mission without some radar technology! This time dubiously provided by Milton. The history of radar didn't start until 1886 with Heinrich Hertz's experiments. (I actually looked up Ch97 of the manga again as a reference.) I just wrote whatever in the draft before looking up (more) accurate terminology. (You might have noticed that Cedric always calls the machine a "receiver" in his POV when Cloudia does not because of his GR privileges! Cloudia, however, does use display/screen because I couldn't think of a better word for her. Though I did reduce those instances a bit from draft to finished chapter.)

I once thought about doing a joke with Oscar putting on Tchaikovsky's July: Song of the Reaper when Cedric was around to mess with him. Unfortunately, it came out in 1876, so I can't do it. (Though Cedric could listen to it at some point!)

Another music-related joke that did not make it: When Kamden tells Cloudia that his latest crush's name is Elise in Affection, I wanted her to mention the Beethoven composition, "Für Elise". However, while it was composed in 1810, it was not published until 1867. I did write that bit though before removing it. I put it under the cut.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Only an hour,” he replied as they climbed the stairs. “And there weren’t many people here today. Only a couple and E…” Kamden cut himself off, and Cloudia didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing.

She grinned. “‘E’ is such a lovely, simplistic name, though I prefer Chalchiuhtlicue.”

He hesitated before he said, “Her name is Elise.”

“That’s a very pretty name too. Sharing a name with a Beethoven composition is wonderful, but it must be awfully annoying to always be reminded of it – even worse if you play an instrument,” said Cloudia. They reached the apartment and walked through the narrow corridor to the living room. “For the rest of your life, everyone will request the same song from you. If this wasn’t such a maddening affair, I guess more people would name their children ‘Appassionata’ or ‘Moonlight Sonata.’ Even the inconspicuous ‘Thérèse’ comes with eternal haunting.”

Cloudia sat down on a sofa, but Kamden remained by the door. “She was indeed named after the bagatelle,” he said sheepishly.

----

And another version where I elaborated on Chalchiuhtlicue instead before deciding to scrap that too:

“She’s left, and I closed the shop for today,” said Kamden, blissfully unaware of Cloudia’s thoughts, and only then did Cloudia notice that the shop had emptied.

“Isn’t it a bit early?” Cloudia asked and took his hand, letting herself be pulled through the row of shelves to the staircase in the back that led to Kamden’s flat above.

“Only an hour,” he replied as they climbed the stairs. “And there weren’t many people here today. Only a couple and E…” Kamden cut himself off, and Cloudia didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing.

She grinned. “‘E’ is such a lovely, simplistic name, though I prefer Chalchiuhtlicue.”

He hesitated before he said, “Her name is Elise.”

“Still a very beautiful name, but not comparable to the name of an Aztec goddess,” said Cloudia. They reached the apartment and walked through the narrow corridor to the living room where Cloudia promptly sat down on a sofa; Kamden remained by the door.

“Would you ever name a child after an Aztec deity?” Kamden asked.

“Why not? It’s not any different than naming children after Greek or Roman mythological figures,” Cloudia replied. “My own mother is a perfect example. And if someone cannot be bothered to try pronouncing ‘Chalchiuhtlicue’ or ‘Ītzpāpālōtl’ – or, for a boy, ‘Piltzintecuhtli’ – as correctly as they’re able to, I would not want them anywhere near my hypothetical children anyway.”

“You’re right,” Kamden said softly. “And ‘Chalchiuhtlicue’ is a pretty name,” he continued with a proud glint in his eyes.

“Though, I guess, to you, it’s not as pretty as ‘Elise.’” Cloudia teased, and Kamden’s face reddened.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Desert Flower [Chapter Seven] One Step Toward Insanity [Grimmjow Jeagerjequez]

A/n: it's been a while since I've posted anything for this story. I apologize for that. This chapter took me a while to figure out, honestly. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): AU, oral (f), teasing, slight overstimulation, Grimmjow being Grimmjow.

My stomach is in knots as curfew comes, though based on the endless darkness that surrounds the desert terrain of Hueco Mundo, it can be hard to tell. I only know because Sōsuke had walked me to my room after dinner, insinuating that I should remain locked up at night. He gave me no explanation as to why, but I know it's because the palace isn't safe.

It never has been. 

As much as Sōsuke wants this arrangement to work, some don't. I can feel their anger and their disgust every time I walk into a room. This is one of the reasons I am hesitant to sneak out, in fear of being caught by them. The other is Grimmjow.

It is wrong of me to want to pursue him, especially since Yama might be right; Sōsuke might ask me to marry him. But I do not want to be tied down to a man like him. I feel nothing but fear and dread around him. My heart isn't in it, and that makes my situation much worse because I do not have a choice. 

But this does not warrant my behavior. I can't help it though. Grimmjow makes me feel untamed whenever he's around. And I love it. Should it not be my choice? I do not think about clan politics or nobility when I am near him. I feel free and that is all I have ever wanted. With Sōsuke I can never be free.

With a deep and uneasy sigh, I saunter toward the door, hesitantly easing it open. The air feels thick outside my room as if my mind is warning me: tread carefully. There is no turning back. It is because of this that I take a step forward. The pressure fades the further I continue down the hall until I am left with elation. 

This is exactly what I want. 

The sound of my heeled shoes clacks on the floor as I quicken my pace. My nerves are on fire; I can hardly believe that I am going through with this. As I step into the corridor facing the 10 chamber halls I recall the one Grimmjow had walked down; the number six is etched into the wall beside the opening. But as I take another step, a familiar noise catches my attention. 

The sound of footsteps alerts me that someone is drawing near. But from where? I panic for a moment, searching the darkened halls until a person emerges from the hall marked with the number 8. My eyes widen in fear as I recognize the familiar white robe lined with black.

"Gin!?"

He hums as he recognizes me, and then grins.

"What do I owe the pleasure, princess? It's after curfew if you didn't know."

What should I say? I can't just admit that I came here to see Grimmjow. My face heats up as I search for an excuse.

"I am aware. I might be a bit lost."

It's not a complete lie.

Gin hums.

"Indeed you are. This is the main corridor that leads to the private chambers of the royal family...unless you knew that."

"I did," I admit. "I wanted to see Harribel."

My heart feels like it might explode. Gin walks over to my side and turns, pointing to the corridor marked with the number 3.

"Harribel lives down there. As you can see it is the 3rd door from the entrance. Each of the Familia is numbered from one to ten, though some would argue that it's zero to nine."

Gin laughs as he says this, though I have no idea why.

"It's rather late to be visiting her, however. Was there a reason you needed to speak with her?"

"I wanted to apologize for something I accidentally did," I lied. "It has been bothering me all afternoon."

Gin laughs. 

"That sounds devastating. Well…I suppose it's okay. It's a good thing we ran into one another. Had you gone down the wrong corridor, five or six for instance; Nnoitra or Grimmjow, then you might have been met with hostility."

No kidding. I had no idea that Nnoitra and Grimmjow lived so close. Given their hate for one another, I am surprised, though perhaps it was not their choice.

"It is a good thing. I appreciate it, Gin," I utter.

It is a good thing I remembered the hall. 

Gin grins in response.

"Don't be long, princess. I believe Lord Aizen has something planned for you tomorrow."

Does he? I suppress a frown and nod, watching him walk down the main corridor toward the palace. What does Sōsuke have in store for me? With an uneasy sigh, I wander down the sixth passage toward the end to a door. But as I go to open it, I find that it's locked.

Heat rises to my face as I remember that not all towers are the same. Just because Harribel lives in an abode in a fabricated sandy landscape does not mean that Grimmjow does too. How rude of me. I raise my hand and knock. On the second, the door opens and a man with a long face stares down at me with impassive gray eyes.

"Turn back, miss. You have come to the wrong tower," the man states.

"Um...I am looking for Grimmjow. He knows that I am coming. This is his tower, is it not?" I ask with an utter.

Perhaps I was misled by Gin, or perhaps this tower belongs to Nnoitra. I shudder to think so.

"If he's expecting you, then follow me," he insists.

His tone implies that he doesn't necessarily want me to be there but he steps aside and lets me in. I stand beyond the threshold in awe, staring at the room I walked into. It's dome-shaped with a winding staircase in the center. One of the most common elements in the room is the various plants; it reminds me of a desert paradise with its cream-colored theme.

"This way," the man insists as he brushes past me.

I follow him up the staircase to the top floor, noticing three others including Grimmjow seated around the room; the latter is laid out on cushions and pillows. This room in general gives more of a laid-back vibe; various plants and fish bowls with gorgeous ecosystems decorate the room; it's interesting just how different his tower is from the previous one I have seen.

"Grimmjow, you have a guest. She claims that she is expected," the man announces.

The room turns to me in interest; an embarrassed heat spreads to my face. I should be used to this sort of attention being from a royal family, but judgment has never been a favorite of mine.

Grimmjow grins.

"And I thought you'd tuck your tail and run."

"Better late than never," I retort with a snap. 

Why must he always be so mean? I am here, aren't I? For a moment I consider turning around and walking away, but I doubt he will stop being an asshole. 

"Who is this woman?" A large muscular man with hair styled in a partial shave asks.

"Does it honestly matter, Edrad? She's of no importance to us," snaps the man beside him; a man with short hair. His right eye is hidden behind a cyan-colored bandage, but the other, narrowed and gray, stares at me with uninterest.

The one beside me hums, drawing my attention.

"She is a princess, an honored guest to Hueco Mundo. Show some respect, Di Roy."

Funny, because I don't feel any respect from him either. I don't even know his name.

"Forgive him, princess. He cares little for names. I am Yylfortdt Granz," a blond states, bowing his head. His long hair falls over his shoulder as he does.

I raise my hands.

"Please don't bow. I am not worth the effort."

Grimmjow snorts.

"How noble, princess."

I give him a heated look. Does he think I would go so far as to wave my authority at him and his friends? Not all nobles are stuck up. With an uneasy sigh, I bow my head.

"Please call me Yuina. It's a pleasure to meet--"

"Get out of here," Grimmjow suddenly orders. "Leave the princess and me alone."

I watch in awkward silence as the three men stand up and walk past me; the man who led me follows. Standing near the stairs, I take a look around, unsure of what to do. It's strange being alone with him especially when the sole reason revolves around sex.

"Come here," Grimmjow orders. 

His voice makes me jerk in unnecessary fright. I'm nervous, but as he orders, I walk over to him and sit down on the plush cushions. Silence falls between us as I glance around the room, taking in the decor.

"I'm surprised," I admit. "I never thought your tower would be so comfortable."

"Like I care what you think," Grimmjow retorts.

I hum, turning my eyes to him.

"It's not an insult. I just...when I am near you, I feel chaotic. It is strange, but seeing this puts me at ease."

I wonder if he too feels like this. Instead of an impolite response, he simply snorts.

"You feel chaotic."

I nod.

"Honestly, it's stupid. I can not explain it, but it's not a bad feeling."

Not like how Sōsuke makes me feel. 

A hand on my knee makes me sigh. I turn my eyes to the blue-haired man beside me in curiosity. What does he plan to do next? My face heats up as I hesitantly rest my hand on his, rubbing my thumb across his warm skin.

"I like the way I feel around you. It's messy, but it makes me feel alive. Like I am not bound by these restrictions that have been forced on me. I yearn for it."

Grimmjow grins.

"Then take what you want, princess. Isn't that what you nobles do?"

He has no idea how feral he makes me feel. What thrills me, however, is that for a man who is in control, he hands the reins to me so easily. Perhaps he wants me to make the first move; to be sure I want him. The consent is mutual. 

I maneuver his hand up my thigh, humming.

"I want you."

"This is probably the biggest mistake you've ever made, princess," Grimmjow mentions as he leans closer.

His lips on my neck send shivers across my body.

"Why is that?" I ask with a relaxed sigh. 

"Because I don't fucking share what's mine," Grimmjow utters.

His arm wraps around my back, pressing me tight against his chest. He smells so good, like Petrichor. A soft moan pours from my throat as his warm wet tongue slides across my ear. I should consider his words as a threat and stop this before it gets started, but it feels too damn good. The obvious red flags I ignore as his hand slips beneath my dress.

Thick fingers press against me through the damp cloth that separates us and for a moment, I forget to breathe. Please do not let him stop, not after teasing me like this. I recall the promise he made me; the promise to tear me apart little by little and I hum in eagerness.

"Ready, princess?" Grimmjow asks in my ear. His warm breath scatters goosebumps across my skin. 

I nod in response, easing my legs further apart for him.   

Grimmjow pushes aside my panties and spreads my lips, pressing his thumb against my clit. My arms slip around his muscular chest; fingers grasping at the back of his t-shirt as he makes short deep circles around it. Waves of pleasure roll across my body making me tense up against him. This is it; his pace is perfect. I can feel the rise of my orgasm as it slowly builds. A warmth fills my stomach, but before it can spread and intensify, the blue-haired tease stops and removes his hand from my panties. 

Why in the hell did he–   

"Lie down," Grimmjow orders.

With a glare I untangle my fingers from his t-shirt, leaning back until I am rested comfortably on the cushions. I have no idea what he plans to do, but as long as he continues, I don't care. Spreading my legs, Grimmjow slips his fingers beneath the band of my panties and yanks them down my legs. My face heats up in embarrassment as his greedy eyes take me in. He then leans down and runs his tongue over my outer lips. A sigh of relief escapes my mouth. 

Oral never even crossed my mind, but I am more than eager for this. For some reason, I had thought that he would focus on his needs alone for this short tryst; he doesn't seem like the type of man to care about someone other than himself, but I've been wrong before. 

A finger slides into my pussy, yanking me from my thoughts, and then another follows. The pleasant sensation it creates forces me to tighten my jaw in fear of moaning. I don't want Grimmjow's friends to hear us, though they probably know what is going on between us. 

It feels unbelievable though. 

In addition, he flicks his tongue across my clit, taking it in his mouth for a moment with a gentle suck before he quickened his pace. I grip the cushions as my body tenses in pleasure. It's unbelievable how remarkable he is at eating pussy. I can't imagine how great he is at fucking.

As the pleasure in me grows so too does my resolve. I moan as he easily bounces my body with the momentum of his thrusts. He's hitting all the right spots, in sync with the quickness of his tongue.

"Fuck…please," I beg. 

My hand slides into his soft locks and I run my nails across his scalp. Grimmjow hums in response, faltering a moment, but he quickly recovers and curls his fingers in me. The lewd and wet sounds that fill the air push me over the edge so quickly that I can barely think. My mind goes blank. All I can feel is my body reacting, tensing up as waves of intense pleasure roll over me.

Tears well up in my eyes as Grimmjow continues. Once my high wears off, there is a slight pain from the overstimulation. I gently push his head away from me to gain his attention. 

"S-stop," I beg. 

He does so and turns his electric eyes to me, raising a brow; a thin line of saliva and arousal breaks as he sits up, parting us. 

"It's too much," I utter, completely spent. 

For a moment it feels like I'm on cloud nine. 

"That good, huh?" Grimmjow teases. 

I narrow my eyes, too tired to argue. He has no idea. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I glance down and notice the obvious swell in his pants. So he too enjoyed this?

 "I can return the favor, you know?"

Grimmjow grins. 

"As tempting as having your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock, it'll have to wait for another time."

I raise a brow. He notices my obvious confusion and snorts. Lifting his finger, he motions for me to rise. I do so and he cups my jaw, running his thumb over my lips; teasingly I kiss it.

"You're not the only one having to wait," he adds. 

I widened my eyes, prompting him to laugh.

"Why do that to yourself?"

"Because I promised to tear you apart," Grimmjow answers. He removes his thumb. "And when I do, you're gonna scream my name to the fucking heavens." 

I shiver in response. This man is not sane. But he did warn me.

Leaning in, he captures my lips in a rough kiss before he parts. I barely even moved. With a snort, he flicks me on the nose.

"Run back to your room, princess. You don't want the worms to figure out that you suck out."

He has a point, though I feel like I should mention that I ran into Gin before I came here. Perhaps my lie convinced him, however. With a sigh, I attempt to stand, but Grimmjow stops me.

"Without those," he declares, pointing to my damp panties.

My face heats up.

"You're a pervert."

He snorts. I have a good idea of what he plans to do with them, but I hand them to him regardless. Afterward, I fix myself up the best I can. My legs are still a bit jittery, but It will go away soon.

"When can we meet up again?" I ask hesitantly.

"Already wanting more?" Grimmjow asks with a grin. 

I turn up my eyes. 

"I'm not answering that. It'll give you a big head." 

"Soon," he retorts. 

I want to ask how soon, but I opt not to. There is still some dignity in my left. With a nod, I clear my throat.

"I'll be leaving then."

Saying my goodbyes without making it too awkward, I turn and walk down the stairs. It isn't until I'm at the bottom do I realize that all of Grimmjow's friends are still in the tower. My face heats up in embarrassment as I attempt to confidently walk toward the door. 

"I hope to see you again, princess," Yylfordt states. 

I hum. 

"Me too."

Awkwardly I leave the tower. Once I am certain that I am out of sight, I bury my heated face in my hands. 

That man is going to be the death of me.

I must be insane.  

[awlwren]

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

Tagged by @garbria and @caparrucia! <3 Thank you so much! *blushes*

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Late to the game, as usual. For multichapter/collections works, I'll just post the start of the most recent chapter. These are all FFXV.

I Have Loved the Stars Too Fondly - Chapter 18

Nyx loved his Uncle Clarus and his Aunt Daphne. He loved when they came to visit, and he got to show them all the rare things he’d gathered from the jungle and the places he’d found and secrets he’d learned. They were so much more fun to explore with than the rest of the family, because they were strong enough to risk the more dangerous places and they were always impressed with even the regular places because they hadn’t seen them a dozen times over the past year. And his little cousin Gladio was getting to be big enough he was actually interesting.

2. These Small Hours - for @meissashush's birthday

Cor kept his hand hovering over the pocket where he kept his phone as he stalked down the corridors of the Citadel. He would never be so unprofessional as to have it out when he was in public, much less when he was walking, but he still wanted to keep a hold on it, like it was his weapon in his current struggle.

3. Talk it Out - Chapter 4 - for Kingsglaive: Lore

Amani was irritated, to say the least. This was supposed to be her free day, which meant she could get as far from the Citadel’s endless halls as possible. She had had plans, by the tide’s return! But when King and Country called… At least she was almost done. She just had to sign out and she could get back to— O Lady, give her patience. “What are you two doing wandering around like this?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and controlled.

4. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark - a remix for the New Year

Nyx staggered through the doorway, letting in a gust of cold air before he slapped the door closed, collapsing against it. Crowe scowled up at him from where she was working on the floor of her and Lib’s shitty apartment, throwing her arms across the papers spread around her in a somewhat belated attempt to keep them from blowing around. She saved them from flying across the room, but her order was all disrupted. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You have your own apartment. Go there unless you want to help pay our heating bill.” Nyx had chosen not to live with them, he could act like it.

5. Lean on Me - a remix for the FFXV Remix 2022 event

Gladio tucked away his book as he stopped reading. Prompto had drifted off to sleep, his breath still whistling in and out through his congested lungs, and Gladio didn’t want to wake him. Besides, Prompto was much more interesting than a book he’d read at least twice already.

6. Down to Business - part of @whumpwriterforlife and my ongoing series Smoke and Mirrors

Regis was ready to make heads roll.

7. We'll Be Alright - a remix for @garbria

Cor adored Nyx. He did. Nyx was so brave, on and off the battlefield, willing to take the calculated risks for what he valued most, and willing to throw himself into the weeds again and again, whether that was running through the literal hostile vegetation across the breadth of Lucis or just the brambles of the remains of Cor’s dead social life. He had an almost uncanny ability to know when to press and when to just sit in silence, and an almost never-ending well of patience when it came to waiting out Cor’s moments of discomfort or exhaustion or just idiocy. He laughed at Cor’s snark, listened to his thoughts, and shared his own generously.

8. Hands and Faces - chapter 7

Nyx dared a quick glance at his watch. The corridor he was speed walking through right now was relatively deserted, so the move was probably safe. If Cor was exactly where he should be, Nyx just might have enough time to catch him before he had to head back for the final briefing before the Glaive shipped out. If he hadn’t decided to take lunch with the King or step in to watch the new recruits or any of the myriad things he liked to do to keep his restlessness assuaged when he’d been trapped in the Citadel too long. Nyx hadn’t thought he’d have enough time to swing by and had told Cor not to expect him for lunch last night, so Cor would have no reason to stay in his office today, and though Nyx had tried to text him that he’d managed to wiggle some time free, his texts hadn’t gotten any replies just yet.

9. Burn Out Bright - more Smoke and Mirrors

Gasson’s assistants had snuck into the lab in the early morning, going about their work quietly, keeping the lights dim. Flaed had snuck over and laid some sort of bread in the shadow of the first aid kit, and someone else he didn’t recognize had surreptitiously replaced their water bottles with full ones. Titus wasn’t sure if it they were guilt offerings or ones sanctioned by Gasson and the assistants were just trying to avoid reminded each other that their subjects were human. Or avoiding waking Titus and Nyx so that they didn’t have to be reminded of that themselves.

10. Those Who Wander in Darkness - Chapter 3

The table they were led to was down two hallways and half a flight of stairs, which gave Nyx plenty of time to compose himself. He kept expecting Cor to put him down, especially when they got to the stairs, but Cor had glided down them with his usual grace. It had been an odd feeling, not bad but slightly disorienting. Disorienting was a feeling he was having to get used to, especially after everything that had happened in the courtyard. After everything that had happened since they arrived in the past, really.

I totally did not edit any of those for typos I noticed while doing this, or to make sentences less confusing. If I had, well, that would prove the exercise was worth it, right?

Thanks so much! That was a lot of fun.

No pressure tags for... @noirbriar, @maychorian, @philomytha, @sanzochan, @exlibrisfangirl, and anyone else who would like to try!

[jmscornerlibrary]

Victor Sparrow Blog; Entry One.

(03.08.24)

I am of the opinion that blogging time for JMW (myself) should be productive, and hence I will welcome you to the first V.S. blog entry of 2024.

What will I be posting? Worldbuilding, reflections, and generally bullet journaling this journey to self-publishing, except the bullet journal is Tumblr until I actually build a website. Once my work becomes well-known (which I dearly hope is the case, because then I will finally be able to move to the countryside away from the endless chaos and noise) this little record of posts may come to be interesting. Let us get to it!

Introduction and Trivia

Victor Sparrow came to me about four years ago, and long story short, it was a mess of a daydream which involved antique shops, magic, and eccentric gentlemen (found family). At the time, my work consisted solely of fanfictions that I wrote by torch light and which I dearly hope to never see again in my entire life, so writing my own original stories was a new take for me.

In fact, the Victor Sparrow Saga was originally called Rozalia: Beginning, following an eleven-year-old girl as opposed to a thirteen-year-old boy. She had wild hair, glasses, and was generally an embodiment of aesthetics that I liked at the time.

Now, we have Victor. His actual name is Wiktor Wrobel, since he is Polish like me, but because the majority of the audience speaks English, we will call him by his English name.

Meet Victor, ladies and gentlemen.

He does indeed, and the cat's name is Sir Kiteus unless I decide otherwise. He is patriotic and angry.

Also, he thinks he's larger than Victor's hand and he is wrong.

Don't worry Miles, you weren't actually that scrawny. Moving on, Victor has often been caught talking to pictures, statues and figurines. The only trouble is, they have had the sense to stop moving when other people are about. He didn't quite realise until his classmates saw him having an avid conversation with Mr Richard Smith about the conditions of mines in the 19th century in the history corridor.

Professor Fidelo often complains about him having to deal with striplings. Victor never complains that he has to deal with a lot of strange intellectual nonsense.

Mr Fidelo and his twin brother actually look a lot cooler. Like this:

One day you will meet them properly. Mr Fidelo is the man on the right. Commotus is the man on the left.

Progress?

I cannot be exact, with the amount of revision this story requires. This is either a third or fourth draft and currently I think I'm going to have to split the first book in two tomes. 450 pages is quite enough for one book. The trouble is, I'm not halfway through the story yet.

But ah, cheers for the process of creation!

(This is a Chimnook and he like s h i n y, red rock :)

Until next time!

JMW.

[lunarludicrousy]

I Need Some Help (No Danger)

I had another weird dream. This one is bothering me. I dislike it very much. To be honest, usually I would just write some poetry about it and move on - but this one irks me in a way I can't describe. I've felt... Isolated lately, I guess. I just need to pretend I have someone to talk to for a moment. Please feel free to disregard this post unless you have knowledge about dream symbolism. Thank you.

I remember searching. That was the most prominent thing on my mind. I needed to find something, but I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was. It was important, though. It felt like life or death, this intense pit burning inside my stomach - as though heating up my stomach acid to burn my insides.

I was running so fast, too. Down these long, long corridors. The walls we're so tall - tall enough that I couldn't quite see the ceiling. It just faded into an endless darkness. There would be random twists, turns, and paths to choose from... in the end it really didn't matter though. The weirdest part is that the walls themselves looked almost made from plaster, as though I were inside a building. The geometry of such a place would be nigh impossible, however, for how long I ran.

The longer I was lost within this maze, the more desperate I became to find that /thing/. It was although a terror was consuming me, I couldn't breathe nor think. My lungs burned from pushing myself to continue - each step became more difficult, as though I were suddenly running through a thick mud. Helpless.

And then I saw it - having just caught the sight in the corner of my eye. I halted, a sudden path to the left. It made no sense to be placed here - it wasn't a junction. Just a random off shoot connected to this stretch of endless expanse.

Ashes. They just... Floated there. Frozen. It looked as though someone had dropped a handful - and cemented that moment in time indefinitely. I reached out to try and touch the ashes, but my hand simply went right through. I looked further down the path, and the ashes expanded down it as well. It felt as though it were highlighted. I felt a sudden... Pull. I couldn't look away. I could not choose any other path - I had to see where the ashes led. More twists, more turns, yet now with direction. A determination. I push through, I had to know where it ended. Where the ashes would lead me. Where /it/ was. And then I woke up. So.... Uh yeah. It feels weird seeing it written out, but I don't really know what it's supposed to mean. It just makes me feel uncomfortable.

Thanks...

[snowwyvernrider98]

This is specially noticeable in the 2 levels that are supposed to be the most disturbing: 343 Guilty Spark, and The Library.

343 Guilty Spark:

This is the level where The Flood, the parasite described as being so prolific that "one spore can wipe out an entire planet." Note that the swampy jungle on the left is extremely foggy, it's foreboding from the start of the level, it actively confuses and tells you that you're not supposed to be here, it's not a place of honor, etc. And when the flood escape, the fog once more works against you, hiding the malformed bodies in it to ambush you.

Anniversary's 343 however, makes the place confusing not because it's trying to keep you out, but because it's so crowded and lush that unless you know where you're going everything looks the same. It's not the fog that covers the Flood approaching you once they're free, but the grass that makes you frustrated for not seeing it.

The Library on the other hand:

This time we have anniversary on the left and CE on the right.

On both the library is a slog, the flood pour out of every opening trying to kill you, but on the left, you're just expecting them, you know when a corner is coming up and where a host is hiding, the level is lit up so we'll that you know you're going to be jumped from the shadows.

CE's library though, is entirely uniform in lighting, there are vents, yes, and dark spots too, but the fact that everything is the same works for the flood in their unnerving endlessness, you're left wondering if the next corridor will be the last, if the last corner will be a respite or yet another long corridor where you'll have to hold out, because when everything looks so uniform you're not even sure if you're going the right way even when this is arguably the most linear level in the game.

The main issue however, is not that the Anniversary remaster is bad looking or better looking or even just different looking. The main issue is that the Anniversary edition of Halo: Combat evolved was not remastered using the XBox release of the game, but the Mac (and later PC) version of the game, a version that was released out of contractual obligation and with every intention to make it inferior to the Xbox release (Maybe I exaggerate a little, but Microsoft was just gearing up for a fierce competition with Apple that would define PC gaming as we know today.)

Take this two comparison (thanks Eurogamer) pictures that illustrate my point

Note how the water here looks like actual moving water on the Xbox shaders, and the waterfall looks like it had volume to it, note also how the light reflects off of the pistol as well, compared to the flat water and bedsheet waterfall with a matte pistol on the PC port

And here we see the origin of OP's complaint. The PC port of the game was rushed out by gearbox, for use on computers that did not have the shading capabilities that Microsoft pioneered with the Xbox's graphics cards, and so you are left with a cliff that just suddenly ends in a very bad line on PC (and thus all later re-releases of the game) while the Xbox fog and shaders leave you asking just how high the cliff goes...

Anyway there are a few videos that go further into depth on this issue, if you want to know more about it and the Apple-Microsoft competition that defined both companies at the turn of the century. Here's one

https://youtu.be/M6nZPrMSu0w

I've never been a big fan of halo 1 anniversary's remaster. I've always considered it subpar: the graphics look great, the remastered soundtrack is nice, there’s only a couple things that are buggy, by all rights it's a good remaster but.

They failed to convert the fundamental qualities at the baseline of 'what is this game's atmosphere and art direction.’

One of the things I've always admired about Halo 1 is how it uses some of the limitations of its time to its advantage, since it's a console game for the original Xbox at that.

The classic version uses a lot of fog, a lot of muted lighting in order to draw attention to what's important. The fog is necessary, because of the limitations on the hardware. But they took advantage of the inability to truly let you clearly see every speck of the area by making it atmospheric.

While the remastered, they essentially went, well we can do away with all that, we have the technology! But they lost that fundamental aspect from using the limited tech to their advantage. They lost the mystery, the mystique.

The fact is Halo 1 is set on an alien world and intended to be taken with a bit of a wondrous, exploratory attitude, yet with a little foreboding to it. Curiosity abounding that makes you want to explore (even though it's a linear game).

that is not the case when everything is just

... bright

[terror-slut]

Quick fluffly little Hot Summer’s Day HC’s with Peter Ballard x reader!

Peter and you were co-workers at Hawkins national laboratory, the both of you tasked with the responsibility to look after the children.

When the heatwave hit, both of you as well as the children were be stuck inside, and cursed with no air conditioning, the building was boiling like a greenhouse.

Instead of engaging in their usual activities, the kids were lazing around half asleep, trying to escape the scorching heat in their subconscious. Peter and you were understanding enough and since dr. Brenner wasn’t around that day, there was no risk of anyone getting in trouble.

You were be fanning yourself with your own hand, perspiration collecting at your hairline. Peter seemed to be absolutely fine, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, his uniform perfectly in place.

“How are you so composed when I’m nearly combusting over here?” You questioned him. How was it possible that he still looked so gorgeous despite the temperature? It was truly unfair how his perfect hair was still in place and his face was free of that telltale sheen of sweat. You’d dare say slightly irritating.

He just shrugged at your question with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“If the heat bothers you so much, I might have an idea,” he said, standing up from his seated position. “We would have to get out of the rainbow room, though.”

Hesitation filled you at the thought of leaving the kids unattended, but only for a short moment. The kids were asleep, and sneaking out with Peter by your side? Your best dreams started out like that.

“Alright, but not for too long. If we’re not back before our shift ends, our asses are grass,” you replied, getting up to follow him. He didn’t respond with words, instead just grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

The laboratory was huge, close to a maze for someone like you, who’s job was mostly to watch over the kids in the rainbow room and occasionally take them up to their rooms.

Peter on the other hand knew exactly where to go, still holding onto your hand as he led you through the endless corridors until finally, he stopped walking. He swiped his key card past a lock, and opened the door to reveal…

“You’re insane,” you said, looking at the deprivation tank in front of you that you had heard Eleven tell you so much about. “We can’t do that, Peter! If Martin finds out…”

“He won’t find out, though. Not unless you plan on telling him,” he cocked his eyebrow up at you, as if daring you to go in.

“Okay, fuck it. Let’s go then,” you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Were you seriously going to ‘swim’ in the kids’ their deprivation tank? With your co-worker who you had the biggest crush on?

Peter made quick work of stripping down to his underwear and you followed suit. The tank was barely big enough for two people, but you couldn’t deny it was refreshing enough.

“Are you still worried about Brenner finding out?” He teased you, grabbing your hand again in the water. You had missed his touch for those brief minutes where he had let go. You turned to look at him, your faces incredibly close to one another.

“Right now, I’m having a hard time remembering why I was so worried in the first place.”

A/N: I wrote this within 30 minutes so forgive me if it’s slightly shite. The inspiration behind this was the obvious heatwave here in Europe, I’ve genuinely not suffered like this by the weather in a long time. I’ve had to google if it even gets hot in Indiana at all because I have no clue as to the climate there but their summers are hot and humid so we’re all good! Hope you enjoyed lovelies <3