#you're coming THROUGH with the cori questions

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Against Lore

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

One of my favorite nuggets of writing advice comes from James D Macdonald. Jim, a Navy vet with an encylopedic knowledge of gun lore, explained to a group of non-gun people how to write guns without getting derided by other gun people: "just add the word 'modified.'"

As in, "Her modified AR-15 kicked against her shoulder as she squeezed the trigger, but she held it steady on the car door, watching it disintegrate in a spatter of bullet-holes."

Jim's big idea was that gun people couldn't help but chew away at the verisimilitude of your fictional guns, their brains would automatically latch onto them and try to find the errors. But the word "modified" hijacked that impulse and turned it to the writer's advantage: a gun person's imagination gnaws at that word "modified," spinning up the cleverest possible explanation for how the gun in question could behave as depicted.

In other words, the gun person's impulse to one-up the writer by demonstrating their superior knowledge becomes an impulse to impart that superior knowledge to the writer. "Modified" puts the expert and the bullshitter on the same team, and conscripts the expert into fleshing out the bullshitter's lies.

Yes, writing is lying. Storytelling is genuinely weird. A storyteller who has successfully captured the audience has done so by convincing their hindbrains to care about the tribulations of imaginary people. These are people whose suffering, by definition, do not matter. Imaginary things didn't happen, so they can't matter. The deaths of Romeo and Juliet were less tragic than the death of the yogurt you had for breakfast. That yogurt was alive and now it's dead, whereas R&J never lived, never died, and don't matter:

https://locusmag.com/2014/11/cory-doctorow-stories-are-a-fuggly-hack/

Hijacking a stranger's empathic response is intrinsically adversarial. While storytelling is a benign activity, its underlying mechanic is extremely dangerous. Getting us to care about things that don't matter is how novels and movies work, but it's also how cults and cons work.

Cult leaders and con-artists know that they're engaged in mind-to-mind combat, and they make liberal use of Jim's hack of leaving blank spots for the mark to fill in. Think of Qanon drops: the mystical nonsense was just close enough to sensical that a vulnerable audience was compelled to try and untangle them, and ended up imparting more meaning to them than the hustler who posted them ever could have dreamt up.

Same with cons – there's a great scene in the Leverage: Redemption heist show where an experienced con-artist explains to a novice that the most convincing hustle is the one where you wait for the mark to tell you what they think you're doing, then run with it (scambaiters and other skeptics will recognize this as a relative of the "cold reading," where a "psychic" uses your own confirmations to flesh out their predictions).

As Douglas Adams put it:

A towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Magicians know this one, too. The point of a sleight is to misdirect the audience's attention, and use that moment of misattention to trick them, vanishing, stashing or producing something. The mark's mind is caught in a pleasurable agony: something seemingly impossible just happened. The mind splits into two parts, one of which insists that the impossible just happened, the other insisting that the impossible can't happen.

You know you've done it right if the audience says, "Do that again!" And that's the one thing you must not do. So long as you don't repeat the trick, the audience's imagination will chew on it endlessly, coming up with incredibly clever things that you must have done (a clever conjurer will know several ways to produce the same effect and will "do it again" by reproducing the effect via different means, which exponentially increases the audience's automatic imputation of clever methods to the performer).

Not for nothing, Jim Macdonald advises his writing students to study Magic and Showmanship, a classic text for aspiring conjurers:

https://memex.craphound.com/2007/11/13/magic-and-showmanship-classic-book-about-conjuring-has-many-lessons-for-writers/

There's a version of this in comedy, too. The scholarship of humor is clear on this: comedy comes from surprise. The audience knows they're about to be surprised when the punchline lands, and their mind is furiously trying to defuse the comedian's bomb before it detonates, cycling through potential punchlines of their own. This ramps up the suspense and the tension, so when the comedian does drop the punchline, the tension is released in a whoosh of laughter.

Your mind wants the tension to be resolved ASAP, but the pleasure comes from having that desire thwarted. Comedy – like most performance – has an element of authoritarianism. You don't give the audience what it wants, you give it what it needs.

Same goes for TTRPGs: the game master's role is to deny the players the victories and treasure they want, until they can't take it anymore, and then deliver it. That's the definition of an epic game. It's one of the durable advantages of human GMs over video game back-ends: they can ramp up the epicness by "cheating" on the play, giving the players the chance to squeak out improbable victories at the last possible second:

https://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2009/03/behind-the-screen.html

This is so effective that even crude approximations of it can turn video-games into cult hits – like Left4Dead, whose "Director" back-end would notice when the players were about to get destroyed and then substantially ramped up the chances of finding an amazing weapon – the chance would still be low overall, but there would be enough moments when the player got exactly what they'd been praying for, at the last possible instant, that it would feel amazing:

https://left4dead.fandom.com/wiki/The_Director#Special_Infected

Critically, Left4Dead's Director didn't do this every time. As any showman knows, the key to a great performance is "Always leave 'em wanting more." The musician's successful finale depends on doing every encore the audience demands, except the last one, so the crowd leaves with one tantalyzing and imaginary song playing in their minds, a performance better than any the musicians themselves could have delivered. Like the gun person who comes up with a cooler mod than the writer ever could, like the magic show attendee who comes up with a more elaborate explanation for the sleight than the conjurer could ever pull off, like the comedy club attendee whose imagination anticipates a surprise that grows larger the longer the joke goes on, the successful performance is an adversarial act of cooperation where the audience willingly and unwillingly cooperates with the performer to deny them the thing that they think they need, and deliver the thing they actually need.

This is my biggest problem with the notion that someday LLMs will get good enough at storytelling to give us the tales we demand, without having to suffer through a storyteller's sadistic denial of the resolutions we crave. When I'm reading a mystery, I want to turn to the last page and find out whodunnit, but I know that doing so will ruin the story. Telling the storyteller how the story should go is like trying to tickle yourself.

Like being tickled, experiencing only fun if the tickler respects your boundaries – but, like being tickled, there's always a part where you're squirming away, but you don't want it to stop. An AI storyteller that gives you exactly what you want is like a dungeon master who declares that every sword-swing kills the monster, and every treasure chest is full of epic items and platinum pieces. Yes, that's what you want, but if you get it, what's the point?

Seen in this light, performance is a kind of sado-masochism, where the performer delights in denying something to the audience, who, in turn, delights in the denial. Don't give the audience what they want, give them what they need.

What your audience needs is their own imagination. Decades ago, I was a freelance copywriter producing sales materials for Alias/Wavefront, a then-leading CGI firm that was inventing all kinds of never-seen VFX that would blow people away. One of the engineers I worked with told me something I never forgot: "Your imagination has more polygons than anything you can create with our software." He was talking about why it was critical to have some of the action happen in the shadows.

All of this is why series tend to go downhill. The first volume in any series leaves so much to the imagination. The map of the world is barely fleshed out, the characters' biographies are full of blank spots, the mechanics of the artifacts and the politics of the land are all just detailed enough that your mind automatically ascribes a level of detail to them, without knowing what that detail is.

This is the moment at which everything seems very clever, because your mind is just churning with all the different bits of elaborate lore that will fill in those lacunae and make them all fit together.

SPOILER ALERT: I'm about to give some spoilers for Furiosa.

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FURIOSA SPOILERS AHEAD!

Last night, we went to see Furiosa, the latest Mad Max movie, a prequel to 2015's Fury Road, which is one of the greatest movies ever made. Like most prequels, Furiosa functions as a lore-delivery vehicle, and as such, it's nowhere near as good as Fury Road.

Fury Road hints as so much worldbuilding. We learn about the three fortresses of the wasteland (the Citadel, the Bullet Farm, and Gastown) but we only see one (The Citadel). We learn that these three cities have a symbiotic relationship with one another, defined by a complex politics that is just barely stable. We meet Furiosa herself, and learn something of her biography – that she had been stolen from the Green Place, that she had suffered an arm amputation.

All of this is left for us to fill in, and for a decade, my hindbrain has been chewing on all of that, coming up with cool ways it could all fit together. I yearned to know the "real" explanation, but it was always unlikely that this real explanation would be as enjoyable as my own partial, ever-unfinished headcanon.

Furiosa is a great movie, but its worst parts are the canonical lore it settles. Partly, that's because some of that lore is just stupid. Why is the Bullet Farm an open-pit mine? I mean, it's visually amazing, but what does that have to do with making bullets? Sometimes, it's because the lore is banal – the solarpunk Green Place is a million times less cool than I had imagined it. Sometimes, it's because the lore is banal and stupid: the scenes where Furiosa's arm is crushed, then severed, then replaced, are both rushed and quasi-miraculous:

https://www.themarysue.com/how-does-furiosa-lose-her-arm/

But even if the lore had been good – not stupid, not banal – the best they could have hoped for was for the lore to be tidy. If it were surprising, it would seem contrived. A story whose loose ends have been tidily snipped away seems like it would be immensely satisfying, but it's not satisfying – it's just resolved. Like the band performing every encore you demand, until you no longer want to hear the band anymore – the feeling as you leave the hall isn't satisfaction, it's exhaustion.

So long as some key question remains unresolved, you're still wanting more. So long as the map has blank spots, your hindbrain will impute clever and exciting mysteries, tantalyzingly teetering on the edge of explicability, to the story.

Lore is always better as something to anticipate than it is to receive. The fans demand lore, but it should be doled out sparingly. Always leave 'em wanting more.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/27/cmon-do-it-again/#better_to_remain_silent_and_be_thought_a_fool_than_to_speak_and_remove_all_doubt

[second-wife-playbook]

@helluvaoutlaw

Coronis had always wanted to come to Wrath. To visit. Wrath was a wilderness with a capital W. The desert that stretched off into the horizon, it's many suns and volcanoes, and it's people...wily, strong, and with quickfire tempers. She had seen it replicated on TV, with adventures in the lawless lands, cowboys and the like.

Well this was an example of; be careful what you wish for.

The transport going through the desert likely boasted some stunning views, but Coronis wasn't seeing any of them. She felt out of place, paralyzed with terror. Her high-society gown was completely unsuitable to the rough terrain, and every time the vehicle jostled over the rough robe, she felt her breathe catch and her pulse quicken.

Andrealphus looked unconcerned. Why should he? He wasn't the one about to become a meal.

"You're so overdramatic. It could always be worse." That was what he said. That was the fucking audacity the Marquis had when Coronis was strong-armed to the ground, hands and feet tied and the horrors explained. "You will be remembered as an exalted martyr, and spare the family a terrible fate. What more could a noble want, really?"

To live, goddammit! To actually live, and not get eaten by a fucking snake-god!!!

Cori had tried to protest. But apparently such attempts at mercy were unpalatable to the ears of her brother and her fated executioner. A simple gesture was all that was needed to tape her beak shut, unable to make a peep aside from muffled whimpers and cries. She wasn't even given the courtesy of knowing what she was being sacrificed for.

The convoy stopped outside of a volcano. A lone cave awaited, with a rough looking imp in a robe bearing a serpent with terrifying eyes. He looked displeased to see the Marquis and Coronis, but nonetheless gestured to a lone minecart. "This will take her right down." He explained gruffly. "Beware Goetia. The Great Destroyer does not take pleasure in meager offerings."

"Rest assured, my heart breaks to see her go-" Andrealphus had said with a long-suffering moan, wrapping an arm around Cori's shoulders, even as she wriggled to break free. "-and I will mourn her passing every day for as long as I live."

A very scripted, very insincere answer. The imp must have sensed it...but didn't question it. "Right. Down she goes."

Andrealphus had brought two large hellhounds for security...and a sack. Coronis fought to break free as hard as she could, but she was being wrangled in with the ease of manhandling a baby chick. The Marquis gave her a last long look.

"I will miss you, you know." He said. Trying for once, to actually sound as if he meant it. "There will never be a soul as easy and soft as you."

Don't! Don't! Coronis begged with all her might, trying to plead with her eyes. Please, please, I don't want to die!!

But as she was dropped into the minecart, everything went very dark. There was a moment's stillness, and then a jolt as the cart went sailing, the sound of the wind whipping past and a heavy dip-

And Coronis entered Wrath's underworld.

______

C'mon, c'mon! Get these stupid things offa me!

The cart whistled down the track at speeds Coronis could only imagine. But within the sack she was trapped it, she pushed her arms around her back legs as far as they would reach until they were capable of being severed by her talons...as fast as she could anyway. It was slow work, and each second felt like it was passing at breakneck speeds.

I-I have to get out! I'll be killed if I don't get out! What would happen should she escape the sack, much less the cart, she had no idea. Run away and join a rodeo? Become an itinerant wanderer in the desert? Turn into a cave dweller?! That could all wait until the ropes-

Snap.

To her great relief, her hands were freed. She tugged and tore at the ropes binding her feet, then clawed at the tape that kept her beak shut, shredding it off. "I gotta get outta here!"

CLANG!

The cart stopped so short that the sack...and all it's contents, rolled out. Coronis yelped in surprise and pain, bruised by the rough landing. She frantically felt for the opening, pulling it open as fast as she could-

Only to wish she had stayed in the sack.

[fandomgirlz01]

Love Uncovered Pt. 4

Colby Brock x Reader

Prompt?: No

Request?: Yes

Requested prompt?: No

Edited: Yes

Word count: 4,992

Ko-fi

Master List

Warnings Here 

You can listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}. 

Post Date: November 15th 2022

Post Time: 7:03 pm

Author's note: I will be attempting to talk about aura stuff, but I’ve never studied that stuff or anything so you guys who do, please just bear with me and if I say something incorrect please please please educate me on it. I will never ever pass up if you guys tell me something is wrong in what I’ve written, I will simply just try my best to go back and fix it. So please just bear with me and enjoy the story. 

Please refrain from stealing our work in any way shape or form, thank you and please enjoy!!!

Based off of this video:

Y/n’s Pov:

After Colby’s question, we all laugh and Sam throws his head down as he brings his closed fist up to his face. Once Sam calms down from laughing, he sits back up straight. 

“About the conjuring,” Cory reminds Sam. 

“The conjuring, yeah. Do you think that’s a decently accurate representation? Or do you not like it?” Sam asks as he keeps trying not to laugh. Colby continues to move the camera around, but he stays standing close to me. 

I’m turned in my seat now as we listen to what Cory has to say and Colby has my back against him as he keeps the camera above my head. 

“Honestly… like I personally like the movie. In as far as accuracy, from the people that lived through it and they said it's about half accurate. If you read the books that Andrea wrote, it was actually ten times worse in real life then the movie was,” Cory explains as he uses his hands to talk. 

“Really?! What?” Sam expresses his shock and Colby moves the camera onto him. 

“Whoa…” Amanda softly adds on. 

“She actually gave a copy of her books to the screenwriters and the screenwriters are like, ‘we can’t put this in the theater, we can’t get an R rating on it,’” he explains, expressing himself with his hands to lay out the details. 

“If we were trying to capture something, what would be, like, do you think the best plan of action for us to go about at night?” Sam asks and Colby moves a hand down to my shoulder when he feels me shiver lightly. 

“If you can go by yourself,” Cory says and Colby immediately lets out a gulp as Stas lets out an ‘oh my’. 

“I know… I know it’s hard, but that’s when you're most valuable and that’s when they like to make contact,” Cory explains in a very even-toned voice. 

“Alright, Sam! So, ummm…” Colby speaks up before clearing his throat. 

“Why is it always me?!” Sam shouts out and we all laugh as he rubs at his face with his hand. 

“Nose goes!” Colby yells out and everyone rushes to put their fingers to their noses. 

“Not me!” Stas proudly yells out. 

“Jesus… ahhh!” Colby yells out as he turns the camera on his own face, but he almost drops it on my head. 

“It’s y/n!” Kat yells out ,pointing to me and I groan. 

“That’s just not fair! One, I always lose nose goes, and two, it’s hard when you’re ducking from a camera almost hitting you in the head…” I say with a light pout as I cross my arms and everyone laughs at me. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Colby says as he rubs my head and I shove his hand off. 

“No, you’re not,” I playfully fight back and he chuckles. 

“Yes, I am. I promise to be more careful,” Colby tells me as he rubs my shoulder. 

He then moves the camera out in front of him and gently pulls my neck back. He leans down and gives me a light kiss, making me smile. Once he’s done, he stands straight again and I sit straight. 

“Ok. Definitely editing that out,” Sam sarcastically says and I giggle obnoxiously on purpose. 

“Anyway… back to my question…” Sam says as he turns back to Cory. 

“Well, that and recording it. Not only on that, but like voice recorders and stuff like that,” Cory explains as he motions to the camera. 

“Because they will talk,” he continues, but stops as we all hear a noise and Amanda looks to the side. 

“You seein’ something over there?” Colby asks her as he holds the camera on her. 

“Yeah. Outside. They just keep walking by and walking by and walking by,” Amanda exclaims in indignation as she keeps her head toward the window. 

“Who? Who keeps walking by?” Colby asks her and she keeps her eyes trained on the window still. 

“There’s three men outside,” she tells us and as soon as she says that I start to feel sick. The feeling is very slight, but it’s still there. 

“Can you tell how they're dressed?” Cory asks Amanda after a moment of silence as she continues to watch the window. 

“They're all wearing the same thing…” she tells us before pausing to figure out how to describe it to us. 

“It’s like… it’s not white, it’s like beige. They all have hats on, but one of them has a different hat then the other,” Amanda continues to explain what she sees. 

“Wide brim?” Cory asks and Amanda gives out a light ‘yeah…’ as she continues to watch the window closely and Stas nervously scratches at her nose. 

“And there’s something shiny on their chests…” Amanda explains as she runs a hand over her chest to show us what she means. 

She watches for a few more minutes before turning back at us all. As soon as she turns, the very light sick feeling goes away. 

“Like, it almost seems like they're not aware of us going on. Or lights being on in here. Like they- they-” Amanda shares as she taps at the table. 

“They’ve been getting really…” she continues to explain, but a small whistle cuts her off and the sick feeling comes back again, but stays very light. 

“Did you hear that?” Stas asks in an agitated tone. 

“What was that?” Colby and Kat ask in unison as Colby moves the camera around. 

“That was- did you hear the whistle?” Colby asks everyone in a slightly panicked tone. 

“I heard a whistle,” Stas speaks up and I nod. 

“I heard it too. I heard it when Amanda was explaining what they looked like too,” I agree as I point at Stas from across the table. 

“Are you- recording?” Colby asks as he looks at Amanda. 

“I’m recording,” Amanda confirms as she motions to her camera. 

“We definitely just got a whistle,” Colby says in an astonished tone. 

“Yeah so that was something,” Kat says as she plays with her earring and Colby lets out a small ‘oh my God.’

“It might’ve been me,” Cory states and Sam uses his thumb to point at him. 

“What did you do?” Sam skeptically asks as he looks at Cory. 

“I’m fat,” Cory again states and Colby lets out a chortle. 

“How would that create a whistle?” Sam asks in amusement and we all burst out laughing. 

“I don’t know!” Cory tells Sam honestly and we all laugh. 

“I do-” he explains as he makes a quick inhaling sound. 

“No!” Amanda shouts. 

“No. No. It was like a whistle. Like it was distinct,” Stas states as she uses her hands while Colby says ‘like’ before he gives a small whistle. 

“It was very distinct. Not to mention every time I’ve felt sick, there was a whistle,” I add onto what Stas says with a nod. 

“Curious,” Cory says in interest as he rubs his beard. 

“That’s what I said down in the basement- or was it in the basement?” she asks, scrunching her eyebrows together. 

“No. That was upstairs,” both Amanda and Cory say in unison. 

“No I heard- I heard it,” Sam perks up after Kat asks him something. 

“You heard the whistle too?” Colby asks Sam as Sam looks up at him. 

“I heard it too!” Stas agrees with Sam. 

“I did too!” I agree as well. 

“I thought it was you guys,” Sam says as he points at Cory. 

“I thought it was you guys too! That’s why I looked at you guys like, did anyone hear that?” Stas explains as she points at me and Kat, making us both nod. 

“I was hoping it was an animal outside,” Amanda says, nervously taking her hands off the table. 

“Let's call Jen and see what she has to say,” Cory suggests as he pulls his phone out. 

He dials a number and it starts to ring before there’s the sound of her answering. Cory quickly explains the situation to her before pulling the phone away from his ear. He puts it on speaker before laying it down on the table and we all start to explain it to her. 

“Like they- they- they think they heard whistles?” Jen asks from over the phone as Amanda pushes play on the sound recording that was caught on her phone. 

“That was it,” Colby states in shock from behind Amanda and Kat points to the phone. 

“What was that knock?!” Stas asks from beside Amanda as she pauses the recording. 

“Go back…” Stas says, still in disbelief. 

“That was a laugh,” both Sam and Kat say in unison. 

“I agree, that was definitely a laugh…” I agree with them, but when I do I start to feel sick again. 

“There was a knock! You guys didn’t hear it?” Stas asks, still in shock as she looks up at Colby and she knocks on the table. 

“Ok… let’s listen again,” Amanda says as she holds her hands out as a way of telling us to be quiet. 

“Like, it almost seems like they're not aware of… us going on. Or lights being on in here. Like they- they-” We all listen as we hear Amanda share again though the recording. 

There’s a light scream behind her in the recording as she talks and both Sam and Kat look up, shocked. Kat then turns to me, the shock still on her face and I nod, telling her I heard it too. She puts a hand down to her side and I grab onto it. 

Kat squeezes my hand in the way Colby always does, but it doesn’t bring me as much relief as Colby’s touch does. I squeeze hers back before listening in on what else is going on. 

“Right there!” Colby shouts out when he hears the knock again. 

“There’s a knock…” Sam confirms as he nods. 

“You hear that! There was a knock!” Stas shouts and Sam nods at her. 

“It was like dun dun dun dun,” Colby agrees with her as he points the camera at them. 

We listen for a few more minutes, but soon we all collectively decide to move on. Colby comes back over behind me. His stomach sits flush with my upper back and the light sick feeling goes away again. 

“I’m going to record again, ‘cause clearly it’s going well for us. Umm. I can still hear the whistles playing back up there,” Amanda tells us all as she points behind Stas.

“Really?!” Stas asks her and Amanda just nods before turning to Cory. 

“Do you have um… noise canceling headphones by any chance?” she asks him and he gives her a small ‘yep’. 

“I would love to put noise canceling headphones on with the spirit box in here and have you guys ask questions,” Amanda tells us as she looks around at each of us. 

I tense up a bit and Colby reaches down with one hand to rub my shoulder. Once he feels me relax, he resumes holding the camera with both hands. I quickly move my head so I can look up at him and he looks down at me, giving me a light smile. 

“Oh, you wanna do the estes method?” Cory asks Amanda and she looks at him with confusion. 

“What?” she asks and Sam reaches up to take the camera from Colby. 

Colby comes back over to me and now that the camera isn’t on us, he bends down and wraps his arms around me. I cuddle back into him as I reach up and grab his hand. We stay like that for a few minutes before he walks back over and takes the camera from Sam again, standing behind him now. 

Again as he walks off, a light sickness comes upon me and I feel nauseous, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was earlier on. It’s like I’m nauseous, but at the same time I’m not. 

“It’s called the Estes method. Sensory deprivation. They can base their questions off of what you’re saying…” Cory explains before pausing and Amanda gives a light ‘okay,’ in response. 

“Or they say the questions first and see what your response is,” Cory explains as he points to our side of the table before pointing back to Amanda. 

“Alright, let’s see if they start speaking to me more than me just seeing them and we can decide. It’s up to you guys. It’s your video, I’m here to help you. Whatever you wanna do,” Amanda tells Sam and Colby as she looks at them. 

“Alright, that sounds awesome,” Sam agrees with her as he looks at Colby who just wiggles his eyebrows at Sam making me giggle at how weird the moment feels. 

“I will say, be careful how long you spend doing that,” Cory tells us. “If you go for too long, like it’s gonna mess you up,” he blatantly states while Amanda keeps humming in agreement and Colby lets out a small ‘dope,’ in shock. 

“Really?” Stas asks as she sits up from her hunched position and Cory gives a pointed ‘yeah,’. 

“Wait how?” Sam asks softly and Colby quickly turns the camera to a confused Sam. 

“It just… it just will. I…I… I don’t know how. I… I’m just telling you,” Cory stutters as he plays with his beard before shrugging. 

“It happened before, type thing?” Sam asks and Cory nods as he gives a small ‘yeah,’ of agreement. 

“If I start feeling something bad, I’ll cut it off,” Amanda tells Sam and Colby and they both nod at her. 

“Ok. Well, we’re going to go into a separate room to explain to the viewers for a moment,” Sam decides and Colby nods in agreement with him. 

“Ok. Well, I think us girls will stay here. Right?” Amanda asks as she looks at the rest of us. 

“I think so. Yeah,” Kat agrees with a shake of her head. 

“Ok. Well, we’ll be back then,” Sam tells us and Colby nods along with him. 

“So y/n, how’ve you been feeling?” Amanda asks as they walk out of the room. 

“I mean I’ve been mostly ok. I did feel a little sick when you mentioned the men walking outside,” I explain as I point to Amanda. 

“Why didn’t you say anything? Cory told you to tell him the next time,” Amanda lightly admonishes me and I shrug. 

“Because it was only a very light sick feeling. I didn’t think it was very important. Not to mention it was just while you were turned away from us. When you turned back, it was gone,” I explain and she shakes her head. 

“You still should have said something y/n. Cory made that very clear. Were there any other points you felt sick?” she asks and I look away in light shame. 

“Yeah… when the whistle sounded,” I sheepishly tell them as I continue to look away from them. 

“I do remember her telling us that one,” Kat speaks up and I smile softly at her. 

“I also may have felt sick after we heard the laughter over the recording, but when Colby came back over to me it went away so I thought nothing of it again,” I admit and Amanda sighs. 

“So you’ve been feeling sick off and on for what? The past hour?” Amanda asks and I nod meekly. 

“Yeah…” I trail off as I kick at the floor under the table. 

“Y/n. You should’ve told us. You could be in real danger here,” Amanda admonishes and I sigh, nodding. 

“I know. I just really don’t want Colby worrying. He was so excited to bring me…” I tell them with a frown and Kat puts an arm around my shoulder. 

“Hon, maybe you should tell him. I know you should definitely tell Cory…” she tells me as she rubs my back and I nod lightly. 

“Ok. When they come back I’ll tell Colby. Then we can tell Cory too,” I agree and they all sigh in relief. 

“Tell me what?” Cory asks as he walks back in. 

“That she’s been feeling sick off and on for the last hour…” Amanda tells him and he turns to me. 

“Really? Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks and I shrug again. 

“It was very subtle and just didn’t seem important,” I tell him in a nonchalant tone. 

“Well, it does matter. I have a feeling one of our male ghosts have taken a liking to you,” he explains and a chill runs through me. 

“What do you mean he likes me?” I ask, now even more on edge. 

“The guy ghost that we have, he likes to hang out in that room I was telling you guys about. He has a type and you definitely fit it. He likes to make girls of your type feel sick to the point of throwing up,” he explains and I choke on my saliva. 

“He likes to make you so sick you’d be immobile and that’s when he usually like to touch you and connect with you,” he continues to explain and I shudder. 

“What does he do if he connects with someone?” I ask and he shakes his head. 

“He’s never gotten that far, so we really don’t know. We believe he could take over your body or possibly do things to people or attach to something on them and try to go home with you, but it’s all theoretical right now,” Cory explains some more and I shake my head. 

“Then why is it when Colby’s around, I don’t feel sick?” I ask him and he smiles at that. 

“That would be because Colby of sorts is a protection for you. He’s your boyfriend, correct?” he asks and I nod. 

“Well our ghost Mr. Paxton hates boyfriends. When a girl has her boyfriend touching her or around her, he hates it. Colby wards off the feelings he puts on you because he’s like a repellent to the ghost,” Cory explains and Amanda snaps her fingers before pointing at me. 

“That’s why his aura was bright turquoise. I was right, it was a protective aura,” Amanda explains and Kat perks up. 

“So when you told us her aura was black with dark red…” Kat trails off as Amanda nods. 

“I was seeing Mr. Paxton’s aura and it’s dark. Cory, do you know this ghost's history?” Amanda asks almost in excitement and Cory purses his lips. 

“Just that he was a guest that had stayed here after getting out of prison and died here,” he explains with a shrug and I shudder. 

“Did he just say… prison?” I ask and Kat nods, keeping me close. 

“Do you know why he was in prison?” Stas asks and Cory shakes his head. 

“Sorry, no. We have never been able to find out why,” Cory tells us and I shake my head. 

“I need to sit down…” I whimper out as I start to move back. 

“Oh ok… I got ya,” Kat promises as she grabs hold of me, leading me over to a chair. 

“Is there anything we can do to keep him from making contact?” Amanda asks and Cory rubs a hand over his beard as he crosses his arms. 

“The only thing that could possibly work is to keep her next to Colby at all times. It’d be even better if they could have physical contact of some sort throughout the rest of the time,” Cory explains with a shrug and I let out a puff of air. 

“Ok. So all we have to do is tell Colby then,” Stats states and I blankly nod. 

“Tell me what? Colby asks as he and Sam walk back into the room. 

“Y/n. Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks when he notices me sitting down staring blankly in front of me. 

“What happened?” he asks as he comes over and kneels down in front of me before looking up at Kat. 

“She’s in a little shock…” Kat explains for me and he looks back at me. 

“Shock? Why would she be shocked?” he asks as he looks from me to Kat. 

“Well…” Stas speaks up, but trails off. 

“Somebody tell me what’s going on!” Colby shouts in fear and that’s what breaks me out of my shock. 

“Ok. So Cory just told us why she’s been feeling sick off and on for about an hour…” Amanda explains and Colby gives me a confused look. 

“You’ve still been feeling sick? Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks and I smile softly at him as I bring a hand up to caress his cheek, which effortlessly calms him. 

“She said she thought it was nothing because it was very light and that it went away whenever you’d be next to her,” Stas explains and he shakes his head. 

“You still should have told me,” Colby says as he gives a disappointed head shake, letting out a puff of air. 

“She didn’t wanna worry you, Colbs. She really thought it was nothing,” Kat tells him and he lifts his head to look at me. 

“I wish you would’ve told me though. We could have figured it out sooner baby,” he tells me as he squeezes my thigh and I nod at him. 

“I promise. If I feel bad at all anymore, I’ll tell you ok?” I assure him and he nods, sniffling as he holds back from crying. 

“So what is causing this? And how can we stop it?” Colby asks as he turns to look at Amanda. 

“Cory said that it’s a ghost named Mr. Paxton. Apparently he likes to mess with girls of y/n’s type. He makes them physically sick,” Amanda starts to explain and the girls all nod along. 

“He also told us that he’s not sure how far this ghost is willing to go, but that the theory they’ve had is that he could connect to her or an item on her to try and travel with her,” Kat takes over explaining from Amanda and Colby’s mouth falls open. 

“How do we stop it?” he asks as he grabs onto my hand. 

“Cory told us to keep you next to her at all times or that you have contact with her at all times. Apparently Mr. Paxton hates boyfriends being around the girls,” Stas explains and all of us other girls nod. 

“Ok. I think we can do that,” Colby nods in agreement with a light smirk on his face. 

“If this ghost hates me touching my girl, then I’m going to be all over her,” he jokes, making everyone laugh and a blush runs up my neck, making Colby chuckle. 

“What about the camera?” I ask him and he shrugs. 

“We’ll just have to be careful, baby. We can do that. When I’m filming, you can just stay behind me with your hand though my belt loop like you’ve been doing,” Colby explains and I nod, squeezing his hand that I’m still holding. 

“What about when Sam is filming?” I timidly ask and Colby smiles. 

“I can keep our hands hidden and Sam can try to keep the camera off of us as much as possible, right Sammy?” Colby asks as he turns to look at him. 

“I can definitely do that. All that matters is that you're ok, y/n,” Sam tells me and I smile, nodding in agreement. 

“Y/n, how do you feel about telling the fans what you’ve been feeling?” Sam asks and I purse my lips as I think about it. 

“I don’t really know, Sam, I kinda just wanna keep it quiet for now and finish this thing as fast as I can,” I tell him and he nods quickly at me. 

“That’s ok. I was just asking. It’s perfectly understandable,” Sam agrees with me and I smile thankfully at him. 

“What if people still catch on with us though?” I ask as I look back at Colby and he shakes his head. 

“I don’t think they will, but if they do I guess we’ll just have to come out to the public,” Colby tells me with a shrug. 

“Are you sure you wanna do that? Honey, we didn’t do that because of how your fans get,” I explain and he shrugs again. 

“If it’s what has to be done. It’s what has to be done. If the fans get crazy, I’ll talk to them,” he promises and I shake my head. 

“That doesn’t always work though, does it?” I ask him and he shakes his head. 

“If it doesn’t work we can always just keep most of our relationship private. The fans have to understand that when I find the one they can’t go bat shit crazy on her. It just makes me mad at them,” Colby explains and I slowly start to grin. 

“The one, huh?” I ask him with a smirk and he chuckles before his cheeks slowly get more and red. 

“Yeah. Uhh… the one…” Colby hesitatingly confirms what he had said and I smile. 

“Colbs. Baby, it’s ok. I think I may have found the one too,” I tell him and his smile slowly changes to a grin. 

“Well that’s good to know…” Colby tells me and I giggle lightly. 

“Ok guys. I think we’re good to go on with the video,” Colby states as he stands up and pulls me with him. 

“Good. Let’s get back to it. Y/n, Colby. You guys keep as much contact as you can get it,” Sam tells us in a jokingly demanding tone. 

“Ok. So where’s the bells and ping pong balls? I think that’s the next step, putting the bells up,” Sam asks and Amanda holds up a bag. 

“Right here,” she tells Sam as she holds the bag up. 

“Ok. Let’s get started then. I’ll film this part, Colby,” Sam tells us as he takes the camera from Colby, who nods. 

Sam gets the camera up and filming as Colby keeps my hand in his, but keeps it behind his back as I stand as close as I can without it looking too suspicious. Amanda opens the bag up and we all start to grab some bells and ping pong balls. 

“We’re going to set up a bunch of these ping pong balls and bells up against the doors and certain areas so we can capture any motion. We’ll be able to listen to see if there’s anything we’ll be able to catch as well,” Sam explains with the camera now pointing at me and Colby. 

Colby puts a bell on one of the chairs and I put one on the chair in the corner behind Colby. Once the bell is placed, I trail slowly back over to stand behind Colby. I stand close to Colby, not too close as he does a listening motion in unison with Sam, who’s still explaining. 

“Colby, can you get me tying one?” Sam asks as Colby stands up. 

“Yeah sure,” Colby agrees before taking the camera and following Sam over to a door. 

I trail behind him and as he films Sam, I keep a finger though his belt loop like he had said to. Once Sam’s done, he takes the camera back and he goes over to film Amanda putting one up as well as one of the bells swinging. Colby pulls me into a hug and holds me there for a moment before kissing my forehead. 

We each do a few more bells and ping pong balls before all coming together at a sofa that Amanda sits on. Kat sits next to her as Sam films, while me and Colby stay behind the camera cuddled up. 

“There’s tons of videos of YouTubers going into the conjuring house and investigating, seeing what they can find, but like… you guys stepped it up. Bringing someone who can see them,” Amanda tells the boys and we all nod along. 

“Ok. Do we wanna do a few more before we call it quits for the balls and bells?” Sam asks and everyone nods at him. Suddenly, Stas starts to freak out. 

“I’m literally going to cry. I actually saw that,” Stas says, her voice trembling with fear and Sam turns around. 

“What did you see?” Sam asks as he looks to where she’s looking. 

“Like… it like peeped its head around that couch,” Stas explains, still pretty terrified. 

“Where did you see that?” Sam asks her again as she slowly gets more agitated. 

“Oh… my… I thought… I thought it was like a little kid, I don’t know,” Stas stutters with a quavering voice.

“It’s not a little kid,” Amanda comments from the couch. 

“It looked like a little kid. Like it peeped,” Stas explains, making the motion with her head to show what she’s talking about. 

“Around?” Amanda adds in for Stas, who nods. 

“And then it went back,” Stas finishes off as Sam turns around to look. 

“Like right behind that little couch?” he asks as he keeps the camera trained on it. 

“Keep the light in here,” Amanda tells Sam as she goes around him and into the room. 

“What the f***?” Sam asks as Amanda walks into the room and I cuddle a little closer to Colby. 

“I keep looking… I’m telling you, I don’t like that room!” Stas exclaims while pointing at it, clearly unnerved. 

“Ok. Girls, let’s circle up. I want to put protection over you all,” Amanda tells us as she comes out of the room. 

“Yes. You too, y/n. I know you have Colby, but I want to be extra safe,” Amanda tells me and I nod before stepping away from Colby. 

I grab onto Stas’ and Katrina’s hands as Amanda grabs onto them from the other side. Together we all follow Amanda as she bows her head and it goes quiet for a few minutes. 

To Be Continued…

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[lunarwritesthings]

New Friends and A Cute Date

Paring: Colby Brock x Gn!Reader

Fandom: Sam & Colby

Request: No

Summary: You finally have the time to hang out with Kat & she invited you to a party her boyfriend Sam & his roommates were throwing.

I was looking through my closet for an outfit to wear to this party Kat invited me to. She said it didn't have to be fancy. I grab a flannel, jeans, and a pair of Docs then quickly change. I debate about wearing makeup and decided to go with simple eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. I grab a bag and put the makeup and wallet in it then check my phone to see Kat has texted me telling me to come over. I text her back then grab my keys and walk downstairs and out the front door locking it after leaving.

Once I got to the house and texted Kat letting her know I was here. I heard a door, and looking up I saw Kat coming towards me. "Hey! I haven't seen you in forever" She says. "I know! I have been busy will work but was finally free so here I am for the party" I said. "Well, you're just in time. It's a small party. C'mon, I'll introduce you to everyone" Kat said. We go inside to see 4 guys messing around. "Guys! We have company" Kat yells.

The 4 guys stop and look at us. "Guys, this is my friend, anyways that's Jake" she points to a guy with black & pink hair. "That's Sam but you know him" she points to Sam. "That's Colby" she points to a guy with brown hair and blue eyes. He was gorgeous. "And finally that's Cory" she points to a guy dancing. They all wave and said hey. I said hey back." "Let's get this party started." Sam says

I was sitting on one of the couches watching the guys and Kat being crazy. I hear Colby ask Kat "do you know if they are taken? Kat smiles and says "their not. They have been waiting for the right person and I believe you have caught their eye". Colby nods and walks over.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I look at him saying "yes Colby?". "Can you come with me for a minute?" He asked. I nod and get up following him into the backyard. "Why did you want me to come with you? I heard you talking to Kat" I ask. Colby blushes slightly "I didn't realize you heard, but I had you come with me so I could ask if you go on a date with me and I didn't what the other guys interrupting me." He says. "Well to answer your question I would love to go on a date with you and I'm glad you did it her-"

I got interrupted by Jake yelling "Get your asses back in here. There's no party out there." Colby and I go back inside, continuing to plan the date that would happen later on during the week.

[malicedragoness]

"Us Against The World"

The long awaited bj one shot that I've been working on and off since October.

This became more than intended and I absolutely love how it turned out. There's plot, their relationship dynamic, and of course some smut. What originally started out as a 1700 word skeleton turned into a 2600 word fic that I'm extremely proud of! I haven't written anything this long in awhile. It feels good to know I can still accomplish something like this.

And expect more Havik and Cori content! I love these two and will continue to write for them. Let me know if you have questions about them.

Thank you to the lovely @brittlecakes92 for beta reading and listening to me complain about my writing. And for smacking me around when I needed it!

#84 ‘Make-Up’ on my lover100 prompt table

Word count: 2,650

MK story tag list: @bihanspookies

Warnings: N/S/F/W, oral sex (male receiving), body horror at the end (It's Havik. But its not the naughty thing you're thinking!)

-*-*-*-*-

“Let me take care of you.” Cori reached up to touch his face. 

“No!” Havik flinched away from her gentle touch, backing up against a tree. “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch my face.”

The last thing he wants is for his little thief to be repulsed by his burnt flesh. He wouldn’t be able to handle seeing the disgust on her face. Not from her. Anyone but his Life’s Blood.

His heart jumped in his throat when soft, delicate hands forced him to look at her. Havik tried to back away, but she held him close, placing her forehead against his. He forgot how insistent and stubborn she could be.

“This face will always be dear to me.” She murmured, her thumbs caressing his cheekbones. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. If this is what makes you happy, then don’t change it. But please,” her voice held a hint of desperation, begging him to understand, “don’t pull away from me.”

Havik let out a shaky breath. A lump had formed in his throat as warmth spread throughout his chest.

How could she still say these things? After everything he’s done. The people he’s killed. The asshole sorcerers he willingly helped to build literal machines to steal souls. Amongst all the other questionable shit he did for months to help Quan Chi. 

Why did she come back to him? Why didn’t she stay away when he forced her to leave?

“You shouldn’t want me, Cori. You deserve someone better.” His massive hands tangled in her inky black locks, holding her to him, breathing in her scent through his mangled nose. 

She deserves so much more than what he can give her. A better man that can give her anything she asks for.

And yet, his blood boiled at the mere thought of another man touching her.

“But I can’t let you go.” Despite his burning hatred of wanting to confine this tempting creature to him, he didn’t have the willpower to see her walk away. “Not again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Cori whispered, nudging her nose against his exposed cartilage. Half lidded eyes never leaving his. “Let me take your mind off of everything. Let me show you how much I need you.”

Her warm tongue peeked out to trace a line against his lower teeth, asking for entrance. Tentatively, Havik’s tongue met hers, allowing her to pull him into the warm cavern of her mouth, and gave him a gentle suck. He closed his eyes and let out a low, gravely sigh. She tasted so sweet. 

Their tongues swirled together in a slow sensual dance, savoring the way the other tasted. One of his hands pulled her in by her waist, pressing her soft curves against his scarred chest. While his other hand gripped her hair to tilt her head back, giving him more room to press his teeth against her lips and explore her sweet mouth, drinking in her sighs. 

Everything about her was intoxicating. The way she kissed him always took his breath away. Even with his past partners, they never elicited such feelings. The world drowns out around them into muffled noise. The only coherent sound is the beating of his heart, and the beautiful sighs he consumes from her. 

Fuck, he missed her. He missed every inch of her. He won’t make that same mistake again. 

Havik broke the kiss to capture her plump bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling the soft, pliant flesh. One massive hand greedily roamed her body, as if making up for the time they’ve lost, feeling every familiar dip and curve. 

Cori let out a surprised gasp when Havik bit down on her lip. A dark growl escaped his throat at the taste of copper that stained his tongue. He lapped it up with renewed fervor, mentally cursing himself for the pathetic moans he let out. 

The taste of her blood was like a drug! Stirring his cock to life and pressing it against her stomach. 

Why did she have to be so irresistible? 

Havik released her swollen lip, when Cori pushed him against the tree, letting out a sharp exhale of breath. The air around them charged with electricity and the heat of their rising desire.

“I said,” Cori started, an edge to her words, hand holding him by the neck and his clothed cock. “I’ll make you feel good.” 

Havik gave a dark chuckle, his jaw clicking together, when he caught that devious spark in her eyes that he adored. Oh, his sweet little thief.

The dark haired beauty trailed open mouth kisses from his jaw to his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth. His hips twitched unbidden at all the lovely sensations she’s causing. Wet kisses travel down his neck, pausing every now and then to nip his scarred flesh. 

“Harder.” Havik demanded in a gruff voice. He hates how he sounds. So pathetic and needy. Only his goddess of chaos could do that to him. Make him feel so wanted. So alive.

A delicate hand fisted into his dark locks and forcibly pulled his head to the side. A shiver ran down his spine as Cori sank her teeth into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Havik gritted his teeth and let out a guttural growl. The pain sent a jolt of pleasure to his stiffening cock.

“Is that what you want?” She grunted through her teeth. Those lovely lips sucking a bruise into his flesh. Her hands yanking on his hair and rubbing his cock, stoking the fire that’s settling deep in his pelvis. 

“Yes!” Havik whimpered as she pulled back and left another delicious bite in his neck. She gave him another and another, until she left him covered in purple bruises and a sheen of saliva.

She pulled back to admire her handiwork that he wouldn’t dream of healing from his body. The pain she inflicts on him would be displayed proudly and unabashedly.

Her lips trailed kisses down his massive chest, leaving behind a trail of heat in its wake, and continuing her sweet onslaught to his nipples. Sucking one of his dusky peaks into her mouth while she pinched and rubbed the other. Havik’s hands tangled in her raven hair, letting out gruff sighs. 

Being completely lost in the pleasurable sensations, Havik didn’t feel her make quick work of his belt, until his leather faulds and purple cloth slumped to the floor. The discarded weight made him feel lighter and more vulnerable. He chuckled.

The hands of a thief.

Her kisses continued down his toned abdomen and through his pubic hair, leaving feather light caresses over his toned body. Once on her knees, she pulled his pants down far enough for his thick cock to spring out, the cool night air making him involuntarily twitch.

His cock was thick enough to where her fingertips couldn’t touch when she encircled him at the base. Darker than the rest of his skin with a big bulbous tip. Three veins run along the sides, blood continuously pulsing through them, giving it an angry appearance. And heavy balls hanging below, filled with a vicious need for her.

To others, he is a monster with an ugly cock. But to the beautiful creature in front of him, he’s perfect. 

Cori gently glided her fingers down his shaft with a feather light touch, sending a shiver down his spine. A deep groan formed in his chest when her hand grasped him more firmly at the base of his shaft and stroked him to his weeping tip. The fire that gathered in his loins slowly built up with each stroke of his cock.

“Oh, I’ve missed doing this.” Cori purred. The thief glanced up at him through her lashes and smirked, as he watched her in anticipation. Smooth, velvety tongue licked him from base to tip at an agonizingly slow pace. Laving her tongue over his smooth hardness to cover every inch of him in her saliva.

“So beautiful.” Havik hunched over her short form, casting a menacing shadow. His large  calloused hands framed her face, pushing her hair out of the way. 

Mischievous green eyes held his gaze as her tongue darted out, teasing his slit with kitten licks and tasting the milky precum. Before enveloping him in her hot mouth, giving him a hard suck. 

Deep, gravely groans escaped his throat. He could never contain his noises, less so now that his lips and cheeks were gone. There wasn’t any point in holding back now. That sinfully sweet mouth felt so good!

The wet, velvety walls of her cheeks hollowed around his throbbing cock, slowly taking him in inch by inch, getting further each time. His thick girth stretched the corners of her mouth. Her hand moved with her mouth, covering the delicious inches she couldn’t fit, and her free hand massaging his heavy sack. 

“I just want to fuck a hole through your throat.” Havik growled. The heat building up in his loins got tighter with each bob of her head. His hands gripped her hair tighter, rubbing the silky locks between his fingers.

How did he get so lucky to have a woman so devoted, so loving, as her? 

Everyone always saw the scary hulking figure littered with scars. Someone unworthy of all the beautiful, free things life has to offer. 

Only she saw the real him. The only one who even tried to look passed his scars. 

Cori released his hardened length with a wet pop, and licked a stripe down the underside to his sack. 

“Ah, fuck!” Havik tilted his head back. One of his balls was engulfed into her warm mouth, her tongue curling around it as far as it could, sucking greedily.

The throaty moans she let out vibrated against his sensitive skin. She alternated between each of his balls. Taking her time sucking and licking, until saliva drenched both his sack and her face. 

Fuck, she’s going to be the death of him. Havik couldn’t help the strained sighs escaping his throat. The sloppy mess she’s making of his cock is getting him harder. Needier. 

Then he felt her hand lift his sack and her tongue traveled southwards. Havik let out a surprised groan and jumped when he felt her tongue tickle his puckered hole. He wrenched her back by the hair to find a coy smirk beaming at him. If he didn’t stop her, he was going to blow his load like a prepubescent boy!

Havik peered at her with glazed over eyes, adoration mixed with pleasure, and saliva dripping from his open maw. 

“Open your mouth.”

Cori stuck out her tongue to catch a drip of his spit.

A shudder ran down his spine. Why does she have to be so damn tempting? 

With a breathy growl, he plunged his cock into her greedy mouth, making her sputter at the sudden fullness. 

“You feel so fucking good.” His thrusts were rough and deep. Each one hitting the back of her throat, eliciting a gag. 

Soft hands, that are used to cracking open safes and the walls around his dead heart, desperately held onto his hips. 

“Just wanna pump you full of my cum ‘til you drown in it.” His throat hoarse from the ragged growls leaving his destroyed maw. He never means the vulgar things he says during their stolen moments of intimacy. But fuck, he needed to get it out!

The air was filled with ragged breaths and gagging noises as Havik thrust down her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to keep up with his brutal demand for release.

“Why do you make me want you? Why can’t I live without you?” He snarled between heavy pants. The ball of heat was getting tighter in his pelvis, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would release.

He can’t peel his eyes away from her face. That gorgeous face he got used to seeing when he woke up and went to sleep. Watching every emotion cross her face. The adoring smiles she sent his way. The cocky smirks when she rushed head first into a heist. The angered sneers when someone pisses her off. Even the way she cries was a sight to behold.

His heart clenched.

“I need you.” He moaned pathetically. 

Half lidded green eyes chanced a look at him with something akin to adoration and need. One of her skillful hands massaged his balls, while she swallowed around his tip. 

That was all it took for the damn to break. Havik’s body shuddered, a primal growl erupting from deep in his chest. His balls clenched tightly as he released rope after rope of white cum down her throat, Cori sputtered and gagged, trying to drink in every drop she could. Every nerve ending in his body came alive and tingled with a pleasurable electricity as he rode out his release.

He collapsed against the tree, panting heavily from the euphoric exertion, his now soft cock slipping from her mouth. His body felt boneless from the blessed ecstasy she brought him as his knees buckled under him and slid down the rough bark.

Havik felt his heart slamming in his ribcage as his body slowly worked on coming down its intense high, his breaths coming out hot and heavy. After a few moments, he cracked open his eyes to see himself face to face with his sensual little thief.

Her inky black hair was a disheveled mess. Eyelashes clumped together from the tears that ran down her face and stained her cheeks. Some of his seed managed to drip down her chin, mixing in with her saliva as she wiped it away with the back of her hand. 

“Beautiful.” Havik breathed out. She was an absolute mess. But he loved it.

Cori let out a chuckle and gave him a captivating smile. “I’m sure I look like a disaster.”

He reached up and jabbed his hands into his chest, blood splattering over his arms and abdomen. The sickening noise of muscle being ripped apart and bones crunching together, as he pried open his ribcage to reveal his beating heart.

The raven haired beauty watched him, entranced by the beating muscle. The steady thump, thump, thump of his heart was the only noise that could be heard in the silent night air. Slowly, she moved closer, almost as if being drawn in by the rhythmic sound.

“Touch it.” Havik murmurs, barely above a whisper. 

In the time that he’s known her, he’s never seen her hands waver. Always so confident and cock sure under pressure, her hands completely steady when she picks locks and disarms traps. 

And yet, as she raised a tentative hand towards his open chest, he watched it tremble uncontrollably. Havik reaches over, his hand dwarfing her own, and guides it towards his heart. It beats faster when she gingerly brushes against it, thrumming with excitement. 

���You see what you do to me?” Havik moans as Cori gently touches it again, not removing her hand this time. The look of pure affection and tenderness in her gaze made his breath hitch in his throat. “Do you see how much I need you? No one else has made me feel these..things. These..emotions.”

Loving green eyes turned to him, his heart thumping wildly in her hand.

“Cori.” He whispered, voice full of longing. “Life’s Blood.”

“Havik.” Tears beaded her eyes. She leaned her forehead against his, still holding his heart.

“I know you can’t forgive me for what I’ve done. But I can’t…I can’t let you go. Not again.” Why is he crying?

Her hand gently caresses his mangled cheekbone, forcing him to look in her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you, through all of this.” She reassured him. “It’s us against the world, baby.”

“Us against the world.”

[oceangirl24]

Find the Word- We're back!

Thanks so much for the tag and for doing this @axolotlsupremacyowo!

Find the words you're given somewhere in your works. Then give the people you tag a set of words to find. No worries if you can't find them all.

My words: tile, gown, foundation, fuss, overlook, sniff, infinite, trouble, clay, personality

Your words:

chowder, clatter, visage, eternal, skeptical, irate, jaggernaut, lime, superhero

Tagging: @justanotherpersonwhowrites @tsunderesalty @mrsmungus @fattybattysblog @danceswithdarkspawn @udaberriwrites @the-orion-scribe @amberlide @stealing-your-kittens @violetrose-art @winterlovesong1 @aleksandriel @kayedium-writes @bees-and-sunshine @sliebman10 @mikaharuka @axolotlsupremacyowo

This is an open tag for anyone who wants to play. If you wanted be tagged and I missed you, throw something at me. If you'd like to be included in future tags, let me know!

The Return: The Christmas List

"Like, would you date someone Jon's age?"

"It would depend on the person." She could not be direct any more than he could be.

Shawn scratched his fingernail across the tile of the kitchen island, unable to look her in the eyes. "What if the person is Jon?"

The Return: Cult Fiction Revisited

The way Jon laid in the hospital bed was same the way he laid after the motorcycle accident. There were wires stuck to his chest coming up through the neck of his hospital gown. An oxygen cannula aided his breathing. The only the casts and bandages were missing.

Jon was as still and lifeless as he was back then.

Saudade: Fishing for Answers

It took Riley a long time before she could give voice to her fears. "That they'll start fighting and being unhappy with each other. I'm afraid they'll end up divorced."

Letting out a slow breath, Maya watched her breath dissipate in the cold air around them. She didn't want to admit that Riley's fear was attaching itself to her, but it was. If the foundations of two of the most solid relationships in existence could be shaken and cracked, what hope did her mom and Shawn have?

The Return: Questions and Answers Part II

"Yeah, I know the job's been bad," Cory admitted. He had been holding back his own concerns for the past several months, not wanting to alarm those close to him if he was wrong. "Listen, I'm only tellin' you this- Topanga would kill me if she knew- but sometimes I create problems at school that force Jon to come down and deal with."

Shawn didn't know whether to laugh or be upset. "Seriously?"

Cory gripped his knees with hands. "Yeah, I mean, nothing major that would cause real problems for anyone. I just make a fuss knowing he won't ignore me."

"You are kinda of hard to ignore when you make a fuss."

Saudade: Preparations

Shawn forced his attention away from the bike; they had to leave for the hospital now. He stood and pulled the key out of his pocket that Audrey had left him. The key was still on the same Pentagon keyring Jon had way back then. He checked the bike over once more to make sure everything was ready to run. That's when he noticed something was missing.

He smiled as he recalled the time he tried to take the bike to Audrey's but couldn't get it started because he overlooked a small but important detail-the key.

The Return: The Keys

"Cor, look around." Shawn gestured to the crowded place they were in. "Who don't you see here?"

Cory looked around suspiciously, then looked back at Shawn, and shrugged. "That blonde lady from the park," he said, repeating how Riley had referred to Miss Tompkins. He drew curious looks from both of the men at the table.

Shawn sniffed. "You're welcome."

Autumn in Philadelphia: Cory and Shawn's Miracle Soap: Tuesday

(the closest I have to infinite is eternal)

An ear-splitting scream shook the Matthews' house early Tuesday morning. Amy grimaced at the eternal shriek as she set a plate full of hot cakes down in the center of the kitchen table.

Birthday Wishes and Valentine Kisses: Accidental Discoveries

Shawn spun around ready to fight. This was an instinctual reaction to being approached from behind. Growing up in the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park taught him that being ready to fight was the only way to avoid being pummeled.

It was good thing he repressed the urge to blindly swing, however. If he had, he would have connected with Brad's stomach.

And he would have been in a lot of trouble.

No clay. Hmm...

Flashbacks: Better Days

While he favored the bikinis worn by the girls on MTV's Beach House, he knew Audrey would not be comfortable in one in public and they were also going to a family theme park for young kids, not the Jersey Shore. Begrudgingly he put the suit back and resumed searching.

At one point he thought he found the one- a pearlescent two-piece. He had to struggle to reach it as it was shoved in the back behind a bunch of one-piece suits with weird ruching and ruffled skirts. He was terribly disappointed when he finally got it into the light.

It wasn't even a bikini; it was an off-white one-piece.

No doubt Audrey would make this boring garment look like haute couture, but Jon couldn't stomach the idea of putting her into something so plain. He shoved it back where he found it and continued to look for something that matched her personality.

[emilykaldwen]

i don’t know if you’ve talked about it already but ⭐️ tell us about abby’s relationship with her brothers!!

Thanks so much anon!

So I think I talked about it a little in the past. Originally, Maiden was going to start when the kids were very small, and we were going to follow that journey through their childhoods, rotating between Alicent/Aegon/Abby POVs. I wrote... 30k for it, and will be recycling some of it for one shots! But absolutely something touched on was Abby's relationship with her brothers.

So I went in the standard direction: Harwin, Larys, Corynna, and then Abby. Abby's a lot younger than her siblings, of course, as Lyonel wasn't rushing to get another wife after the issues with his second (Larys and Cory's mother).

Harwin has always loved children, and so when Abby came along and they came to the Red Keep, he was excited! Look at the novelty of her! She's so cute! And Harwin was always really good with her and absolutely a presence that if Lyonel wasn't around, Abby would seek comfort in Harwin. On a deeper level - Harwin was never able to publicly acknowledge Jace and Luke, so a lot of his pent up Dad feelings were transferred onto Abby, who he could be open without question as to why. And this was especially important, and Abby grew to be really reliant on Harwin as a second father when her own mother got sick (Celeste was ill from the time Abby was four before passing when she was 8). Truly, Abby had two fathers: Lyonel and Harwin.

As for Larys, everything else about Larys aside, he's never really liked kids. And honestly like, I don't blame him. His little sister is what? 15-17 years younger than him, they're not very interesting. As Abby states in Chapter Two during their dinner, 'You've never liked me' and Larys points out 'well you were a kid, we had nothing in common, but now you're an adult'. So they get along, but they aren't close at all, but there's no bad blood between them. Larys is just her weird, quiet older brother who occasionally asks how she's doing and kind of just left the raising of her after the fire to Alicent - who took her on as ward at the time.

We do have another Larys and Abby talk coming up in this week's chapter though! WHAT GAME IS THIS MAN PLAYING?

[valentinerose529]

Tag Game: Oc Ship Songs

thanks to @dancinginsepia for the tag, and also for making the tag game!

rules: write about two to five songs from them that represent your a ship between your ocs (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said wip (if possible!) underneath it.

and boy oh boy this is the right tag because you know who's been making playlists and imagining music edits instead of, yknow, actually writing something? this gal!! Anyways, relationship: Coraline and Ixora because I am Unwell over them. They're a bodyguard and a charge that eventually turned into like platonic soulmates sorta thing, in that they know each other so well but still insist to strangers it's only a job. This is gonna be fun to decide on anything because i have pages and pages of backstory but very little current dialogue and interaction written between these two--they've actually spent more time apart and affecting each other's lives than they have interacting on page! (the solution is to write more of them interacting. i'll get back to you on that)

1. Die For You by STARSET This has been an Ixora theme song for like. Years. The man's loyal as hell. And in a relationship like theirs, how do you determine the line between Ixora-specific loyalty or bodyguard-general dedication? He'd follow her into hell if she asked. (She did, once.)

"You promised to protect me," Cory gasped, and the words were a knife in his own heart. "I failed," he replied. Words clawed up his throat, but he couldn't get them out—how could he say what she meant to him? He would have given her everything before today; he made himself her protector because he believed in her. Because he trusted her.

2. If I Killed Someone For You by Alec Benjamin I haven't quite gotten under Cory's skin yet to get a writing handle on how she ticks,but I know she's very self-centered and righteous. I love exploring their dynamic--here's a power imbalance with two irascibly stubborn people on either end--and how much Ixora will simply cede to her rather than arguing. And how far would he go for her without her needing to ask?

“I thought I’ve been banned from your events,” Ixora said, in a tone I’d only ever heard when he was trying to start a fight. “You’ll behave yourself tonight, won’t you?” [asked Louise.] "I'm not coming anyways. I can’t leave Cory; I’m her protector, remember?” "Oh, but you're invited too, Miss [Coraline]." All eyes turned to Coraline. She and Ixora looked at each other. Her eyebrow twitched in question, he set his jaw in response, and Coraline replied smoothly, “If you insist, Miss Louise, then it’s in our best interest to attend.” Ixora’s wings quavered; I couldn’t tell if he had agreed with Coraline or not.

3. House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco This one ends up on a lot of my oc playlists cause everyone's got backstory and lore. But these two for sure really have a plethora of memories together! They know nearly everything about each other--the way they move and fight and their daily rhythms. But when strangers ask, they'll insist it's a strictly professional relationship.

“How do I look?” “Like you walked off the cover of a dime romance. Impractical and useless in a fight,” she added coolly, shutting down Ixora’s dreams. “You flatter me, sweetheart,” he informed her, and tossed an apple at her from behind his back. “Here, I know you skipped breakfast.” He read her thank you in the flick of her ears as she caught it. “Are you all packed?” “Since yesterday. You? That bag of yours doesn’t look big enough.” “I can borrow something of yours if I need.” “See, I knew you’d say that, just like last time, and the time before that, which is why I packed that red shirt you hate.” “God, with the shiny buttons? You’re a menace.” “It means you won’t steal it, yeah?” he shrugged, the movement carrying through his wings.

I ran out of quotes (i really need to write more of this story instead of letting it grow a full-on mold colony in my head) so i couldn't add all the songs i had in mind.

Gentle tagging if you want to participate, plus open tags! if you see it then join in! ♥ @isilee @inked-fables @lame2882 @sarah-sandwich-writes @sabinabardot @eldritchpiper @1legitconnor @nascentmorimur @sam-glade @sparrow-orion-writes @cat-esper

[laughtracktragic]

the cory and shawn show: decade premiere with guest star @deafandstoned

shawn had been counting down the weeks, the days, the minutes to cory and topanga's philly visit for thanksgiving, locked in a frankenstein's horror, thrown in a blender with excitement to see two of his favorite people on the planet since he even had a sense of his own existence in the world, the topsy-turvy always baffling world with its crises and resolutions constantly dragging him there and back again. he was bursting at his seams with joy to see them, topanga glowing with a second trimester and the anticipation of a baby girl and happy, so happy, with so much to talk about, her new job in the big city, cory's new york adventures in teaching middle school. and he dreaded them, both of them, dreaded their plastered smiles, dreaded seeing the results of the choices he'd made and the new life it had made so soon, and wondering if he had been catastrophically wrong, dreaded cory's eyes lingering on him, dreaded letting spencer come along.

and it was nighttime, and the final event was finally due, cory and shawn alone in cory's parents' kitchen just like high school, talking about the things nobody wanted to talk about, the things everyone wished wasn't true, the things that kept shawn up haunted in the night staring at old yearbook pictures on the walls of the apartment.

"so when's the wedding, shawnie?" that was all it took to shatter the illusion, to send them hurtling at full speed down the river of painful honesty and open wounds. here they fucking go.

"that's not fair, cor. you're the one actually married." "you told me to get married!" "i also told topanga i wouldn't blow up her marriage, man. you told her that too, by the way."

he was at a loss. he'd been at a loss for ten years. christ-- did he do the right thing? did he break it worse than it already was? what the fuck did he do now?

"what the fuck do you want me to do, cory?" "do you love him?"

that question sent ice shooting through shawn's veins, the cold sharp sting of humiliation and shame, old as he was and even older still, with a face like chet hunter and alan matthews. he dropped his voice down as quiet as it would go, and he was begging now.

"can we please not do this in your parents' kitchen? please?"

footsteps behind him set his hair standing straight. christ, what now? spencer? topanga? the ghost of john adams' past? he wasn't sure which was the worst option. they all made him want to go to the edge of the earth and cry.

[beek33per]

Fioralba (chapter 6)

"Cory, I would like you to meet Asa Lee, he is a doctor as well as the god of health, wealth, and travels," she said.

Asa extended his hand to me allowing me to shake it and he explained that he usually travels to Haruna's home to buy ingredients from her for medicinal remedies but it appears that I'm his first patient for the day. He opened his bag and searched through it to find something, a moment later he pulled a stethoscope and put it on, and checked for my heartbeat. He asked me a couple of questions and ended my check up with him.

"Everything seems to be alright and everything looks good," said Asa.

"That's good and all but tell me, is she dead?" Haruna asked.

"Nope, her heart is beating and looking through the mask's lenses, her soul is blue so she's still alive back on earth," he explained.

In shock, I asked him what he meant by my soul is blue and he explained how humans end up in Nenas.

˜”*°•.˜”*°• (𝓗𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓐𝓼𝓪 𝓛𝓮𝓮) •°*”˜.•°*”˜

It's still unknown how humans end up coming to Nenas but all we know is that they appear as shooting stars, the people of Nenas call it falling phenomenons.

The stars appear in 3 colours. Blue, being that the human is alive, red, is that they died and came here instead and green, being reincarnation. Green stars only fall on pregnant women and red and blue have you waking up in the middle of nowhere.

Whenever Nenas gets a falling phenomenon they commonly appear red and green, but for blue phenomenons, they are quite rare to see. The last time there was a blue phenomenon was a hundred years ago. So that here ends today's lesson.

I was in utter disbelief about what I just heard the information was too much to handle that I was on the verge of tears until I heard Asa speak up.

"There is a way to get back to earth but it would take a long time to get there," he explained.

I was surprised to hear that there was a way to get back home but inpatient that it was gonna take a long time to get. I asked, "How can I get back to earth?"

Haruna and Asa explain that there was an island with a field of flowers that grant wishes but they only bloom at the crack of dawn in the first month of summer. The journey was gonna take a long time.

"Why can't we just, like, teleport to the island?" I asked, impatiently.

"Due to a war that happened about 200 years ago a tyrant king of the fire elf kingdom took away the crystals that kept the island's gates open and hid them away, one crystal locked away in a neighboring country's dungeon tower." Haruna explained, "No one can leave and no one can come in except for people who work at the temple that looks after the flowers and handle religious matters. Only one gate to the island is open and that's the dungeon tower in the kingdom of the fae."

"So all I need to do is sneak in through the open gate and get to the main island right?"

"No that's not how it works, the isle of the sun has very tight security you'll be caught easily and it's heavily guarded with strong magic it's best not to enter that way. The only way you're getting to the isle of the sun is by having all of the gates open." Haruna said sternly.

"For you to open the gates you need to go to each kingdom and place their crystal at the top of their dungeon tower. From reading and hearing stories about the towers, the crystal glows bright enough to light up the darkest of nights." Asa explained, "But, you need to go to each kingdom in order to place the crystals otherwise the gates won't open."

"May I ask why do we need to go in order," I asked.

"That bitch of a tyrant from the fire elf kingdom conquered each kingdom one by one and declared that the gates only open 'in the order I have conquered the kingdoms' or some shit," Haruna said bitterly as she takes a sip of her tea.

"So how does the order work?" I asked.

"Starting from the easily conquered to the most difficult to conquered kingdoms," Haruna said.

"Can you show me the kingdoms that we need to go to?" I asked.

Haruna lifted her hand to the level of her shoulder and snapped her fingers, in a blink of a moment we were in another room, as I was getting to know my surroundings I come to realize that we're now in a library. I could see that the room was filled with years of knowledge with shelves reaching to the roof. It looked like the room haven't been used in years, but still very organized.

I look to see a very large map on the library's wooden walls with thread pinned across each location on the map. I turned to Haruna and asked what was the map all about, and so she answered.

"For the past fifty years I've been gathering and gaining information on my own and from others trying to figure out where the crystals are, and I realized I was too dumb to notice where those damn crystals are. They've been hiding in the easiest spot since they were taken away," she explained.

"Then where are the crystals?" I asked again.

Haruna slammed her hand on the map on top of an island with a diamond on it, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and answered.

"That delinquent of a tyrant and gave all of the remaining crystals to those damn goblin bastards and probably took them to keep the crystal's location a secret," Haruna explained again.

"Why did the tyrant king give them to the goblins?" I asked one last time.

"It's simple goblins like shiny things and are greedy bastards. The tyrant knew if he gave them to the dragons all hell would break loose." She said.

"Now onto more business I probably have enough people and supplies to come with me on this journey to get those gates opened up. From my guesses, we would make it to the sun elf kingdom by the time Litha rolls around. So, what do you say Cory? Do you want to travel this continent, free the people and get back to earth, or do you want to stay here and start a new life in Nenas?" Haruna offered.

To be continued

[wineninconsistentices]

𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 "𝚆𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴𝙻" 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚅𝙴

Pretty much the douchebag of the band, he's always starting fights and enjoys being a pain in the ass. Especially when it comes to their drummer, Cori.

── 🫀:: 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 ☠︵ . .

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮

▸ 关于我 . . . ❀︵︵ ↴

"Really? You gonna suck my dick while you're at it too? Fuck off!"

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ▸

「 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 」

Sage "Weasel" Hargrove

The nickname Weasel is more of an insult or to pick at him for his behavior and attitude, Espen, his bands lead guitarist, started calling him it, and it just sticked so they usually refer to him as it.

「 𝐀𝐆𝐄 」

25, September 1st, 1998.

「 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 」

Male

「 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 」

He/Him

「 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒 」

A Thick Metal Pipe, his firearm being a Glock-18.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮

▸ 关于我 . . . ❀︵︵ ↴

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 「 𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 」 ▸

「 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍」

Sage, characterized by three words — vulgar, douchbag, and miserable. Upon first meeting him, it's difficult to discern whether he's simply messing around or genuinely troubled. He carries himself with an upright demeanor, yet his interactions are harsh and disrespectful. Manners are nonexistent in his world, and he fearlessly passes judgment, freely expressing his unfiltered thoughts. Sometimes, he cloaks his remarks in sarcasm or disguises them as jokes, making it challenging to distinguish his true intentions. While he can be blunt and forthright, he is also adept at deceit.

Unless you are familiar with Sage on a deeper level, it's unlikely that you'll detect any hidden agenda or his penchant for playing mind games. With new acquaintances, he typically adopts a laid-back attitude, peppering conversations with sarcastic remarks while honestly sharing his opinions on various matters. He derives pleasure from toying with people and provoking their anger or frustration, leading him to resort to passive-aggressive behavior and disrespectful jokes. His sense of humor is a chaotic mix, occasionally veering into dark and highly vulgar territory.

Peeling back the layers of his persona reveals a desperate individual craving attention while reveling in the emotional impact he has on others — be it anger, pain, or sheer exhaustion. Despite projecting an egotistical image and taking pride in his selfishness and jerk-like behavior, Sage is deeply insecure about many aspects of his life. However, his insecurities stem primarily from his own internal struggles, as he places little importance on external opinions. In truth, he harbors a strong self-hatred, a facet that may not be immediately apparent given his outward demeanor.

The question arises: why do his bandmates tolerate him? In actuality, they see through his façade. While he can be a major pain in the ass, Sage has consistently shown warmth toward most of them. Moreover, he seems to genuinely care about his cousin and sister. Although Rhory, his cousin, finds him to be excessive or bothersome, Sage has always been there for him during his lowest moments, offering support and solace.

「 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 」

6'0

「 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 」

One above his waistline, the top of his back is covered in freckles.

「 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 」

None

「 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 」

A mouse rat on his lower back.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮

▸ 关于我 . . . ❀︵︵ ↴

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 「 𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 」 ▸

「 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊 」

Regular worn out backpack and his guitar case.

▸ Clothing, rags, matches, a few pill bottles containing various medications that were prescribed to him before the apocalypse, a box of incense sticks, a couple Kool-Aid packets being held together by a plastic band, a metal lunch box holding his cigarettes, lighter, grinder, and some other things for smoking. Mini medkit, pocket knife, and lastly one of those multi-tools. As for food he has two boxes of crackers, a can of pineapple, a bag of pf sugar, and a water bottle.

「 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 」

Prior to the apocalypse, Sage's occupation involved working at a liquor store, a place where he likely spent a significant amount of his time, even when he wasn't on duty. He enjoyed engaging in conversations with fellow employees, and when he wasn't at work, he was often either with his band or indulging in a lively party scene. When the chaos of the apocalypse struck, he adapted to the new reality surprisingly well. After all, life was already quite dreadful before the apocalypse unfolded. The only notable distinction now was the presence of mindless cannibals relentlessly attempting to devour his flesh.

「 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋𝐒 」

"I don't know, maybe try not to blow my brains out with all this shit going on. But that doesn't matter, you got a lighter I can bum off you?"

「 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 」

🫀 Tropical punch Kool-Aid, his band, sister, shitty liquor, incense sticks, Metallica, and lastly turtles.

🔪 Most things, especially people in general or religious people who spew crap about this being God's plan. He preaches about how the world going to shit was the best thing ever, something Cori gets pissed about. Cat's, he's allergic to them which is why he hates them. Classical and country music.

「 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 」

Homosexual/Greyromantic

「 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 」

"What? Interested in acting out some shitty rom-com?"

──────── *ೃ  ‍୨ the end. ୧ 🕯️

[helluvaoutlaw]

Striker leaned against the kitchen counter, his expression thoughtful as he considered her question. His eyes wandered momentarily as if recalling distant memories.

"Yeah, reckon I did."

He replied in his southern drawl.

"Not quite like what I put you through today, but close enough. Life in Wrath ain't exactly gentle, especially for those who ain't born into it."

He moved closer to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite her.

"Had to learn quick, adapt faster. Survivin' out here ain't just 'bout knowin' how to shoot or ride, it's 'bout bein' tough enough to take whatever comes your way."

His gaze met hers, his eyes steady.

"You did good out there today, Cori. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

Gimme Shelter

((( Anyone can reblog and comment on this post, for anyone could be a patron at Sugar Buzzed club 😉 )))

((( Warning: The song Striker is singing in this post contains sensitive content. )))

Under the dim, smoky lights of the Sugar Buzzed club, Striker stood on the small, worn stage, gripping his electric guitar. Usually filled with vibrant neon hues, the club had dimmed its lights tonight to recreate a Wrathian country blues atmosphere. The crowd, a mix of regulars and curious newcomers, buzzed with anticipation. Striker's outfit was a blend of vintage charm and rugged style:

Brown trousers, black suspenders, an old mauve-colored shirt with its sleeves rolled up, and a black vest that completed the ensemble. He was enjoying a cigar while arranging his guitar and giving time to the other musicians to prepare themselves.

The two Hellhound vocalists (recommended by Queen Bee herself), were more than excited to perform with him, given the two girls were giggling and whispering to each other, probably commenting his physique.

He adjusted the microphone stand, its metal frame barely reflecting the subdued glow. The club’s atmosphere was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and the low hum of conversation.

He drew one last smoke from the cigar, before putting it out in a metal ashtray.

The cowboy nodded at the rest of the group, before starting to play.

Striker's fingers danced across the guitar strings, coaxing out a raw, soulful riff that immediately quieted the crowd.

"Ooooh, a storm is threat'ning

Myyy very life today

If I don't get some shelter,

Ooh yeah, I'm gonna fade away...

Waaar, children,

it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away."

His voice, deep and gritty, cut through the room as he began to sing a blues rock tune, each word dripping with emotion and authenticity.

"Ooooh, see the fire is sweepin'

Myyy very street today

Buuurns like a red coal carpet,

Mad bull lost its way...

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away..."

The guitar came alive, electrifying the room. Striker's skills were evident in every note, his fingers moving with precision and passion.

"Look out!

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away..."

The crowd swayed and nodded, some with eyes closed, lost in the music. The rhythm section backed him with a steady, driving beat that resonated in the chest of every listener.

The vocalists were doing a splendid job, enhancing the feeling of the song with their honeyed voices.

"Ooooh the floods is threat'ning

Myyy very life today

Gimme, gimme shelter!

Or I'm gonna fade away..."

Striker’s performance was a blend of raw talent and heartfelt emotion, the kind that left an indelible mark on everyone present.

True, the song wasn't exactly a cheerful one, but he didn't care. They came to feel the true Wrathian spirit tonight, which was anything but sweet and joyful.

It was crude, merciless and painful, delivering the harsh truth of life.

"Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

I tell you love, sister,

it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

Kiss away, kiss away..."

His voice rose and fell, his eyes closed as he sang every lyric with ardor, his mind miles away.

As the final notes echoed through the club, the audience erupted into applause, the sound filling the small space with a wave of appreciation.

Striker grinned, nodded, and thanked the public, letting the band to take care of providing ambience music as he left the stage to get a drink.

He would've sang again a bit later, but for now he just wanted to enjoy a glass of bourbon.

(((Song: )))

(((Art belongs to: )))

@keenie-bopper

@queenbeeibee

@the-only-noonstar

@the-delightful-temptation

@ultio-angelus

@princestolasofthearsgoetia

@grandma-susan

(((Just to tag a few.)))

[consumedkings-archive]

❤ FOR A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP OF MY MUSE ✧ cori suran x nate sewell

it was beautiful. i love beautiful; always have. i never saw why i should hate what i wish i had. love it harder. work your way closer. clasp your hands around it tighter. till you find a way to make it yours.

— requested by @chyrstis

[grifalinas]

Remember that episode of Suite Life where one of the twins dressed as a girl to enter a beauty pageant to win money for bikes and then Carey finds out and is like "why are you wearing a dress" and he's like "it's a scam" and she's like "oh thank goodness"?

What about that episode of Boy Meets World where Cory (later swapped to Shawn, because the writers accidentally made him an egg) decides to live as a girl in order to write about the experience of being a girl and his mom asks him how was school and he's like "I decided to be a girl" or w/ever and she's all "-horrified!-"

Anyway yeah I think about those things a lot

[sith-shenanigans]

Ahene, how can I change the world around me for the better? I am just one tired, anxious gay, and everything is So Much. (if you're still doing the advice thing!)

"Are you sure this is for me, and not Velnira? If you're certain. There are a lot of tired, anxious gays in the world, and you won't just be one if you band together. So find the people who will stand by your side, and then start figuring out what you can build between all of you. The more people believe in an idea, the stronger that idea becomes, and the galaxy is in many ways built on ideas. Also, never underestimate what can be done simply by acting as if what you're doing is perfectly normal. Use the expectations of others to your benefit, either by pulling them out from under those who are putting obstacles in your path or by going unnoticed beneath them until an opportunity arises. Just ensure that you're making progress towards making that opportunity, not just waiting for a perfect moment that will never actually arrive."

[the-darklings]

I saw Cori and Wanderer went to the Dreamfall for a bit, do you mind writing a drabble for that? I think it would be so cute.

If you don't have time is ok

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dreamfalling into nightmares.

pairing: the corinthian & f!reader (wanderer), background dream of the endless x f!reader

summary: “We’ll remember each other forever at this rate.”

wc: 1.9k+

notes: been missing them hours, so this was a joy to write.

series masterlist | ao3 |

The knock comes promptly after sunset. 

Tugging the door open to your private room, you discover a tall, handsome, grinning nightmare in your doorway, a hand propped against the frame. Corinthian’s appearance has not changed since earlier this afternoon when he found you napping in Fiddler’s Green. Pale clothes clad his body, and dark glasses conceal his eyes from everyone, even you. 

“Why, hello there,” he greets in a drawl, a dimple creasing his cheek.

Your grin matches Corinthian’s—sly, biting, certainly fond in your case. 

“A punctual nightmare,” you say playfully, opening the door wider to permit him entry. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Oh, I’m full of those,” Corinthian retorts, strolling inside. 

He examines your room methodically, everything from the bed to the wooden table slotted in the corner, halting only once, on the windowsill. No—he snags on the object placed as a silent protector over your space. His figurine of himself. His Dreamfall present. A nightmare watching over someone’s dreams. Perhaps ironic—no, certainly ironic, but you don’t dare to speak while he ambles over, his finger lightly brushing over the figurine’s head. 

“Ready for the celebration, I assume,” he voices suddenly. “You dressed up. That’s nice. He’s going to love… that.”

“It was implied I should,” you reply. “Something about being the guest of honour.”

Corinthian steps away, his arm dropping back to his side with a faint hum. “More than that, troublemaker,” he says, turning to face you with a crooked grin. “Why you’re the first ever.”

Your brows wrinkle. “First… guest? Wait, you mean no one has been invited to Dreamfall before?”

Corinthian huffs a breath as if your lack of knowledge is deeply amusing to him. “Do you imagine Dream has many friends? His family has attended in the past, or so I heard. Predates you or me, though.”

Warm heat unruffles inside your stomach, a sunbeam crawling through your body and heart. A tiny smile graces your face, and Corinthian appears all the more amused for it. His arm slots behind his back, extending another your way, bent at the elbow.

“My mission is to escort the honoured guest tonight.”

Grinning, you reach to hook your arms, falling to his side effortlessly as he leads you across the room and outside. “Here, I reasoned you enjoy spending time with your favourite mortal.”

His scoff is scornful, biting but amused. “Perish the thought. I can’t stand you.”

Chuckling, you shove your shoulder against his. Evidence of his smirk gets swallowed by shadows as you walk together. Cutting across the winding, silent corridors, you can’t help but be grateful for his presence. For the way, he’s a treacherous, conniving shadow a step behind you at all times. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. “Even if you didn’t want to and Dream ordered you.”

The golden-haired nightmare glances your way, says nothing, and then continues your steady trek. You're about to question him on the odd behaviour when he speaks: 

“He didn’t order me,” he responds, pursing his mouth to a point his nose wrinkles. “Dream asked the pumpkin to escort you. As if I would let that happen.”

Floaty smugness swells in your chest, your features alighting with barely suppressed glee. He’s as good as admitting the notion of anyone else escorting you is some imaginary slight against him. There’s no doubt in your mind it’s a matter of pride. Merv and Corinthian had never gotten along, much the same way Lucienne and Corinthian have never seen eye to eye. Now that you consider it closely, you realise you’ve never seen the nightmare getting along with anyone. Ever. Others tolerate him, but Corinthian carries himself with unbridled air of self-importance and haughtiness. With each step taken, Corinthian asserts he’s the best, most masterfully crafted, and he’s not even slightly modest about being Dream’s most superlative creation. 

“How sweet. I’ll be sure to ask Merv a dance to make sure he’s not feeling left out.”

Corinthian’s expression rearranges into a slight grimace at your nonchalant words. He makes a point of not gracing that with a response, and you have difficulty biting back your gleeful grin. 

Outside the castle, the views are otherworldly. Magical doesn’t do it justice. Dreaming has always had a life of its own; a beating, pulsing core of pure imagination, making anything possible here. If you can only think of it, it’s real. There are no limits, no too much, only freedom. 

But Dreamfall…

A gasp slips past your parted lips the second you exit the castle. Preparations have been ongoing for three days now—with most bustling activity stretching from dawn to nightfall—but seeing it upon completion now robs you of breath. 

Will-o’-wisps float aimlessly through the pleasant night air; trees, paths, buildings and most available surfaces sit covered in warm, gauzy lights. Flower blooms have been twined around bannisters leading everywhere, and you spot tiny fae-like creatures napping and playing on the bright, lustrous petals. Dust sprinkles from their wings while they dance, and you chuckle under your breath, eyes skipping everywhere so you don’t miss anything. 

Corinthian slowly leads you to the castle courtyard, letting you absorb the magnificent sights as you go. But when you finally arrive, you hardly recognise what you’re looking at. What was once the courtyard has now become an open-air ballroom. Hundreds of dreams and nightmares have packed into the space; outside the castle parameter, you see thousands more: bonfires and glowing tables as far as the eye can see. Birds and winged creators take up celebration in the starlit skies above. And it is when the music hits you; light, dreamy, joyful. Tonight there are smiles and drinks everywhere. 

Dream’s creations are here to be celebrated—to celebrate themselves, and your heart inflates with happiness for them, soft and warming from within. Some are horned, winged, or scaly. Creatures that barely resemble human shapes are wherever you glance. Their skins vary from white to purpose to yellow and all the hues between. Their eyes are many, few, or none in sight. They communicate in growls, high-pitched whispers or companionable silences. Some resemble wraiths, others merfolk, while several take on faery forms. There are females and males and those who hold no gender, for they come from realms even you have not broached yet, where mortal logic does not apply or is necessary. 

This is a mirror of life. Dreams and nightmares reflect the universal whole. And you’re helplessly in love with everything within the vicinity. 

“Don’t you look besotted,” Corinthian draws, making you jump from your musings. “Shouldn’t you be running screaming?”

As if. 

You squeeze his arm closer. “This is incredible.” 

Corinthian follows after you when you drag him towards the buzzing crowds, weaving in between different dreams and nightmares. Tables litter the courtyard, drinks and food laid for all to feast upon. Half of it looks foreign, and the other half you would worry about putting in your mouth were you not cursed. 

Some dreams are dancing to your left. Instinctively, you almost skip towards them, loosening your hold on Corinthian to grasp his hand instead. 

“Come on!”

His grip constricts, making you glance towards him, but he only nods his head to your right. You follow his line of sight. 

Dream of the Endless sits on a makeshift throne of carved alabaster, Jessamy perched on top. It may not be as exquisite as his throne inside the castle, but he is nevertheless a sight to behold. Dream fits it perfectly, regal and subtly imposing the way only Endless could be. Tonight his black robes seem blacker than any ink, blacker than the darkest edge of the universe. Stars glimmer inside his collar, flickering flames licking the blackened material where his coat pools by his feet. 

His attention is already on you when your eyes meet, piercing and hooded, honing in on you through the busy throng of his creations as if you’re the only one present. Over Corinthian’s body, you offer Dream a subdued but warm smile, inclining your head, giving tribute to the Dream Lord on the night all living beings capable of dreams do. 

His head lowers marginally in your direction. 

Pressing closer to the nightmare you’re still holding onto, you prop your chin against his chest. “Dance?”

Corinthian’s head falls back towards you, listening, but his attention does not stray from his foray into observing his indirect kin surrounding you. It’s then you notice the cold, sneering way his face has contorted. Several individuals in the crowd are eyeing you with subdued suspicion and dislike. 

No, eyeing him. You with him. Many in the crowd are known to you—through association or because you were there for their creation. Even more are known by name, by their stories. But it’s then, holding onto your friend, that his earlier words crawl back to the forefront of your mind. 

Surely you’ve noticed? How many others around here look like me? Like you?

None. In a crowd of thousands—each more fantastical than the last—you two are the most unconventional sight. You stick out due to your sheer humanity. Due to your curse and wrongness in a land of plenty and wonder, but Corinthian…

The first time I became aware of my existence, I saw two things. Him, Dream of the Endless, my creator, and… you.

Crafted for humanity, a macabre reflection of them, a masterpiece for you. 

“Let’s dance,” you say, curving your fingers tighter around his. “It would be a shame not to give them a show with all their ogling.”

Corinthian perks up at your quieter addition, his fingers curling near possessively around yours in return. Cool but firm to the touch. 

“Now, that doesn’t sound very nice,” he hums, tugging you towards the dancing crowd. “Whatever would Dream say?”

I don’t care. No one looks at you like you’re wrong. Like you shouldn’t be here with me. You were the first—the first I saw made, the first I said ‘hello’ to, the first one I loved. You’ve always been mine, and you belong here, with me. 

An airy laugh slips free from you, “Don’t care.”

His eyebrows jump up, wiggling. “Rebellious.”

He sounds far too delighted by the notion. He lifts his arm, and you hold onto him, spinning in a slow, uncoordinated circle. 

“Says you. You’re the worst.”

He drags you closer, chest to chest, his teeth bared in a wicked, feral manner. He’s a nightmare. He will always be an entirety of chaos when left unchecked. But right now, Corinthian is merely here, celebrated and deserving of celebration the way all of Dream’s creations deserve tonight. 

“Oh, I know,” he exhales, dragging out the words with deliberate slowness and a guileful grin. 

You quirk a challenging brow just as another melody splits through the Dreaming, spinning a new dream for all those celebrating. 

“Remember the steps?” you challenge. “Just how I taught you.”

“I remember everything,” he reminds, a touch sardonically. 

“So do I,” you shoot back bitingly. “We’ll remember each other forever at this rate.”

The nightmare’s arm settles around your waist, his hair glowing from the hazy lights and the dreams appearing in the inky skies above—ready for their fall, their journey here, back home. 

Corinthian doesn’t smile this time. In his dark sunglasses, you only glimpse a ripple of yourself reflecting from him. “I’m counting on it, trouble.”

And then the nightmare spins you into a dizzying, euphoric circle that’s all but endless. 

an: I have such a deep-seated fondness for them. hope you enjoyed this. it's nice to write something happy after the last two chapters & overall a very meh day dealing with ten different mentally and emotionally draining things. hope this was able to give you all some much-needed comfort, and I'm sending anyone having a hard time rn all the love in the world 💕