#*gestures vaguely towards a parallel*

[mothpdf]

something something lestat and the room full of blond blue eyed corpses something something Claudia being gifted dolls that look just like her

[mefilas]

awful brain disease that makes me think abt keichiro and kairi

[ethelshound]

MILK, HONEY AND METAPHORS. • S.REID

─── IN WHICH Spencer has always believed that some things are best left unwritten, but with you, every glance, every touch feels like poetry, and for once, he doesn’t mind reading between the lines.

Spencer Reid 𝓍 𝑔𝓃!reader 1.6K ⋆ fluff ⋆ comfort ⋆ established relationship ⋆ awkward Spencer ⋆ soft moments ⋆ book nerds/breakfast

The kitchen is quiet, save for the steady drip of coffee into the pot and the faint rustle of pages as Spencer flips absently through a book.

He’s perched at your counter, long fingers resting in the middle of chapter six but his eyes skimming past the words, unseeing. The coffee he poured for himself sits lukewarm beside him, untouched. The toast he began five minutes ago remains unfinished on the counter, the butter knife laid precisely parallel to the plate, as if the geometry might settle his nerves.

Statistically speaking, breakfast should only take a few minutes to prepare—two to four minutes to toast bread, twenty seconds to spread butter evenly, an additional five for honey, depending on its viscosity and ambient temperature.

And yet, he hesitates.

There’s something sacred in the stillness of your apartment. The curtains are half-drawn, letting in the pale glow of early morning. Dust dances lazily in the light, swirling in golds and creams. Your cat sleeps curled in a sunbeam on the windowsill, tail twitching in the cadence of dreams. Somewhere in the next room, you sleep with the door cracked open and one arm slung over the side of the bed, as if even in sleep you’re reaching for him.

He’s not used to mornings like this.

Spencer glances toward the hallway like a teenager caught in someone else’s kitchen. His curls are still messy from sleep, and the sleeves of his sweater bunch awkwardly at his elbows. He pushes one up again, only for it to slip down as soon as his hand moves.

The quiet feels too loud all of a sudden.

He clears his throat and turns back to the task at hand, trying to focus on the toast. Butter first, then honey. He spreads it carefully—precise, even strokes, like he’s painting something delicate—and adds just enough honey to form a thin amber sheen. He presses the halves together with the gentlest pressure, as if anything more might ruin it.

Your kitchen smells like sleep and sugar and coffee.

He takes a breath.

Spencer isn’t quite sure how to move in spaces like this—spaces not meant for profiling or statistics or the sterile click of FBI pens on laminate desks. Here, the math doesn’t help. There’s no algorithm for how to make someone feel loved at eight in the morning while wearing their hoodie and standing barefoot on their tile floor.

He wants to do it right.

Wants you to wake to something good. Something soft. Something simple.

But he's never been good at simple.

He startles when he hears the soft shuffle of your feet behind him. Turning slightly, he catches you leaning against the doorframe, sleep-warm and blinking slowly at the morning light. Your hair’s a little tousled, cheek marked faintly by the pillow, and Spencer thinks—statistically speaking—this might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Morning,” you say, voice still hoarse with sleep.

Spencer smiles, quick and awkward. “Morning. I—uh—made toast. Well, I’m in the process of making toast. I got distracted.”

You pad toward him, barefoot and comfortable in the quiet, and he watches the way you move—soft, easy, like you belong here. Like he belongs here.

You peer at the plate, then glance at the untouched coffee.

“You got distracted reading a book and forgot your coffee?” you tease lightly. “Are you okay? Who are you and what have you done with Spencer Reid?”

“I was thinking,” he says defensively, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck. “And I didn’t forget. I just... didn’t want to disturb anything.”

You blink, confused. “Disturb what?”

He gestures vaguely around the kitchen. “This. You. The morning.”

You soften instantly. Moving toward him, you slip your arms around his waist and rest your cheek against his shoulder. He stills like he always does—tense, almost startled—and then melts, carefully, into the contact.

“You could never disturb this,” you murmur.

He wraps one arm around your back, the other coming up to rest tentatively at your waist.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he admits quietly, lips brushing the top of your hair. “I know how to recite The Waste Land from memory, but I don’t know how to... be here. With someone. Without messing it up.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re here. You made toast. You’re wearing my hoodie.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “That sounds pretty perfect to me.”

He huffs a laugh. “I analyzed the honey-to-butter ratio for eight minutes.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

Spencer’s breath catches in his chest. You’ve said it before—many times, in fact—but it always feels like it’s the first time. Like his brain still doesn’t know how to compute being loved so openly, so without condition.

“I used to think some things were better left unsaid,” he says, voice quieter now. “That putting them into words made them... real. Vulnerable. That if I didn’t say how much I wanted this, it wouldn’t hurt if it went away.”

You reach up and touch his cheek, gentle.

“And now?”

He leans into your hand.

“Now I think you’re the exception to every theory I’ve ever had.”

You grin. “That might be the nerdiest way anyone’s ever told me they’re in love with me.”

“I am, though,” he says, earnest and breathless. “In love with you. Completely. Quietly. Constantly.”

You press your lips to his, soft and slow, like you’re underlining something important. And when you pull away, you rest your forehead against his and whisper, “Then say it out loud. Write it on toast. Read it in the morning light. I’ll keep reading, Spencer. As long as you’ll let me.”

He smiles—truly, fully smiles—and you watch as the tension in his shoulders unwinds just a little.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.”

And somewhere between the soft light, the forgotten coffee, and the still-warm toast, Spencer Reid learns that not everything has to be calculated.

Some things can just be.

And with you, he doesn’t mind reading between the lines.

[1800titz]

Fetish (spanko!Harry) | the fifth part

5.7K on patreon

Check out the rest of the Fetish masterlist on tumblr & the patreon masterlist (with 354.6K WC and updating)

main masterlist

“She’s my neighbor. And no,” he states pointedly, shedding light on the artistic craftsmanship of his pastime, “she doesn’t have anything to do with my tastefully curated blog.” Beside him, Art slips something under his breath into his own respective alcoholic beverage, something that vaguely sounds like “Does tastefully curated apply to every glorified Only Fans?” just as Seth starts to say, “The one who thought you were strangling someone?” “Wait,” Niall blinks, “The fire alarm girl?” His eyes flicker to his freshly empty glass, and the curly-haired brunette purses his mouth and he chews over the answer. “Something like that. We’re…” once more, Harry’s jade gaze travels to that back corner of the room (though, only settling there for a heartbeat’s length of a pause, this time) before returning to his investigative friends, “on good terms now.”

800(ish) word preview

“We’ve been over this,” Niall groans, rolling his eyes, as if his coordination (or lack thereof) is solely dependent on lighting (or lack thereof), “we had the lights off.”

Seth shakes his head, a loose, weary sort of amusement gracing his features, “I think you’re just disgusting.”

“And the pot meets the kettle,” Niall challenges, eyebrows pinching as his eyes narrow at his considerably swarthier counterpart, “You had that weird toe thing with… what’s-her-name. The one with the teeth?”

At the errant dig towards his ex-fling, (admittedly a nice person, as Harry remembers) hooking into the discussion strictly as collateral, Seth blinks blankly, deadpanning, “Her name was Bianca, and she had perfectly normal teeth.”

Art picks up his drink, muzzling a string of snickers at his own quip by tucking his straw between his teeth, “Sure, sure. She also had a canine sharp enough to open packages.”

As Seth rolls his eyes up to the wooden beams detailing overhead, Niall directs his attention onto Harry, who sits across from him. “What’s your take on it, then?”

Halting the soft, steady drum the face of his ring had taken against the body of the glass, Harry gears his gaze onto the other brunette. A half-lidded, nonchalant glaze coats his expression as he clarifies, “Spitting?” He shrugs, pursing his lips to bottle his mirth, “Well, it’s context-dependent, isn’t it? I’ll wait for her ask for it before giving her a fucking hurricane.”

Art, with the straw still slotted between his lips, snorts and nearly chokes on his drink. 

“It was a bit!” Niall defends hotly, exasperation worming into his tone at the ridicule. He lays his palms flat onto the sticky tabletop, then picks one up to motion with it, pinky parallel to the surface, as if chronologically walking the rest of his friends through a particularly uncomfortable series of unfortunate events, “She texted me a link to one of those Bang casting roleplay and said ‘I want this.’ I. Want. This,” Niall repeats, emphasizing each word with another, firm tap against the table, eventually resorting to gesture out with the same palm, “And I was spitballing.”

At the unintended softball, Harry nudges with his chin, feigning understanding, “Right.”

For a moment, Niall bristles. The dewy (courtesy of the shots the cohort had kicked off the night with) noctilucence of his gaze sharpens to a dagger point as it narrows. Finally, he sits back against the chair, correcting himself flatly, “Improvising.”

“Why do all your bits end in trauma?” Seth notes, a crinkle forming between his brows almost pensively.

“It’s almost impressive,” Art tacks in. When the redhead finally sets his drink onto the table, it’s half-nursed. He snorts, luring a scowl from the Irishman diagonal to him, “You’ve got the bedside prowess of a drunk magician.”’

“Pick a card, any card,” Harry drawls dramatically, stretching his arm out in a display of theatrical mystique, only able to stifle the full extent of his dimples with the drink he takes after the deadpan punchline, “Now, open your mouth.” 

Unlike the rest of the table, Niall doesn’t seem to bask in the same mirth. A ruddy smear inches over the bridge of his nose, speckling his cheeks, and dusts the tips of his ears as his friends cackle. 

“Where would you have done it, then?” the Irishman counters irately, once more focusing his inquiry onto the curly-haired brunette across from him, who seems to have taken the lead role in the ribbing. 

Harry muscles down his laughter, schooling his expression into something more sober and casual, “Where would I have done it?”

Niall bobs his head firmly, the edges of his lips downturned in lingering childish offense, “You get a link to an aggressive porno with a text tied to it that says ‘I want this.’ Where are you spitting?”

Although the answer (common sense, in Harry’s opinion) rests on the tip of his tongue like a ready swimmer on a diving board, he bats his lashes at his friend in mocking innocence, “I wouldn’t degrade a woman like that. I’m a good boy.”

“Oh, cut the shit,” Niall scoffs, his face screwing, “You basically degrade women as a hobby and document it. You’re a sick freak.”

“Consensually,” Harry stresses over the breathless wheeze of laughter that surfaces from the stool beside him, pausing for effect, “Which is the key here, young Niall. And I’ve already, basically given you the answer, haven’t I? If she asks for it, as in, she says ‘I’d like you to spit on me,’ well then, …mouth’s nice.” He shrugs nonchalantly, and a slow-seeping, seedy kind of grin trickles over his lips at the thought, “I’ve got a soft spot for the lower back, too, though. Feels a bit like writing your name in the snow.” With all-seriousness, now (interlaced, of course, with pitying concern that’s meant to condescend), he blinks, shaking his head slowly, “But, mate, I think she just wanted you to pull her hair a bit.”

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[the-unexplained-council]

A-Z Fluff Headcanons; Torbek

Legends of Avantris; Once Upon A Witchlight

(prompts by me)

Summary: Fluffy relationship headcanons about what it would be like to date Torbek from Once Upon A Witchlight, a DnD campaign hosted by Legends of Avantris.

CW: Very mild/extremely vague hint of sh! (Section C—omfort!!)

Word Count: 5.5k.

-~-~-~-~-

A—ctivites: What would they prefer doing with you? What do they like doing?

• Torbek would very much enjoy anything with you, especially if it means any sort of parallel play or hands-on things. As much as Torbek doesn’t mind observing from afar, he wants to feel included too. If you are working on something, he wants to do something too in your vicinity. He may even want to mimic you and what you’re doing depending on what it is. Other times, he’ll loiter around and ask questions on what you’re doing and watch curiously, even if he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on. He may even ask questions about it and ask if he can be taught, or just be included in general.

• Torbek loves anything that includes physically being with you. He wouldn’t be too vocal on if it wasn’t, but it’s what makes him feel the most welcomed and included. Are you playing a board game? He wants to hold something from it for you to feel helpful. Are you crocheting or knitting? He’s a great yarn ball holder! Are you reading? He’d love to be read to, but he’d be happy just with his head in your lap pretending to read those big words with you. He just wants something physical with you, even if there’s no physical touch involved.

B—enevolence: How would they show kindness towards you? What would they do for you?

• Torbek would do subtle things, as well as very noticeable and vocal things! He’d open doors for you, carry you over things, lift you to high places or reach those tall shelves for you. He loves performing physical kindness to you, especially if it makes you feel happy or proud of him. He would 100% take note of little things that you like too, especially if he notices you aren’t yourself completely.

• Torbek will be very vocal about confirmation with you. He wants to tell you that he cares for you and that he’d do anything for you. He’d apologize if he thought he did anything wrong to upset or anger you, but wouldn’t just let it slide either. He’d make up for anything he thinks he did wrong, even if he really didn’t do anything, with physical gestures as labeled above.

C—omfort: How would they go about comforting you? How would they grasp being comforted? How do they handle comfort in general?

• If you are crying, Torbek is there in a heartbeat. He’ll be asking if you’re okay, careful not to hurt you and scoop you up so you can cry into Torbek’s clothes and hide you if you feel embarrassed in any way. If you don’t want to be touched, he’ll sit next to you and talk to you the best he knows how, trying his best to help even if he doesn’t understand the situation. Torbek isn’t the best at saying the right things, and he knows that, but he damn well will try his best for you! And if he can’t think of anything to say, he’ll find the prettiest leaves he can and just start piling them beside you, or in your lap. Pretty leaves make Torbek happy, why wouldn’t they make you feel the same?

• If you were mad, Torbek would have to take a minute to collect himself first. Anger upsets Torbek, it scares him, but he knows how it feels to be alone and angry, and they don’t mix well together (which is pretty ironic for him, isn’t it?). He’d offer things like pillows or branches to throw, or even let you just scream into him if you need it. He’s there to help your through it, he just doesn’t know how to handle anger as a whole. If you are extremely angry, he may have your support from the side-lines, gathering acorns or other environmental things to pile near you for you to find so you know he’s there for you.

• If you are the numb type when upset, Torbek understands. He’s scared with you in those moments, he knows numbness. He’ll try to keep you with him, make sure you’re at least in his sight. Torbek knows numbness can sometimes make people do scary things in order to feel, Torbek’s done it too. Torbek cares for you, and will do anything he can to bring you out of the numbness. Even if he has to lay on you and keep you with him until you relax and calm down on your own.

D—ates: How would they go about dates with you? What are their preferred dates? What would they not like as dates?

• Torbek will try his best to be “clean” for the first date. As in clean, he’d probably spray a whole bottle of spray on himself, comb back his matted and oily hair on his head, and wear not so torn up clothes. He 100% asked Gricko or Gideon to help him frantically to not scare you away.

• Torbek really likes carnival dates! He loves carnivals, and he’d probably take you to the Krew’s if he could! Or if there were others around, those too! He’ll love to just walk around aimlessly places with you and talk and look at shops and other things. Anything in nature and inexpensive is perfect for the bugbear. You want to have a picnic? Awesome, Torbek calls dibs on the pie! You want to go stargazing? Torbek loves the stars! You want to just watch motion pictures? Hell yea, he’s in!

• Torbek wouldn’t like eating in a restaurant as a date, as much as he loves food. It would make him too nervous, on a date with a pretty and cool person in an enclosed food place with a lot of people staring at him? No thank you! He’d tolerate an outside restaurant, but even then he’d still be very anxious. On a date he’d like to only focus on one anxiety, thank you. And that anxiety is to impress you enough for you to like him and hang out with him more!

E—ffort: How much effort would they put into your relationship? How would they show their efforts?

• The real question is what effort DOESN’T he try for the relationship? He really really likes you! He doesn’t want to scare you or upset you with anything, he’d be so upset with himself if he did! He wants to smell better to not scare you off so fast, and he wants to fix being “scary” to people, but he doesn’t know how! He kind of focuses on the wrong things to fix, mainly due to his very low self-esteem and self-confidence. He’d basically try his damndest to change himself as a person if he really wanted to, but of course fail because he literally can’t. Please tell him he can be himself with you, please don’t change!!

• He’d be very vocal about it, without even really meaning to? Just little things like “Torbek wants to be like Mister Gideon for you so you don’t get bored of Torbek. :[ “ without even realizing that’s a bad thing for him to do. I just feel like if Torbek really liked you he’d absentmindedly grow like 10x more self-conscious about himself and would make him put more effort into the wrong things, but he’s trying!

F—ight: How would they go about fights with you? How would they handle them? How would they resolve them if at all?

• If the fights are calm, low leveled arguments just filled with frustration and irritation, Torbek will calmly converse for a solution to the issue. Depending on the topic, Torbek would stand with his side while also vocalize that he isn’t against you or trying to make you feel worse, but he’s healthily standing true to what he believes. On the other hand, Torbek could also very easily just break and agree with you, either to not upset you more or because he genuinely agrees with you later into the argument for some reason. Either way, he’d offer a little gift to show an apology for arguing with you. It will probably be a really pretty leaf or flower.

• If the arguments are yelling or extremely defensive/offensive toned, Torbek doesn’t want to continue. You raise your voice, he’s done, he wants it to stop. He’ll crumble, just go along with the situation to defuse it as quickly as he can. He’ll try to deescalate then scramble away to destress himself. In his eyes, he upset you greatly and he upsets everyone, he messed up again and this time it was with you, how could he forgive himself? He’d probably, unfortunately, avoid you for a while after these kinds of arguments. Not because he’s scared of you, he’s more worried and in the mindset that you still correlate him with the thing you were arguing about and are still mad at him. Eventually he’d leave a leaf or another few gifts for you to find. Otherwise, he’d just avoid eye contact and keep his respective distance until he’s sure you’re not upset with him, whether that be if you go to talk to him about it first or if he suspects it’s been a long enough time frame.

G—entle: How gentle are they with you mentally, physically and emotionally? How do they show these things?

• Oh boy, you’ve never met anyone more gentle than this bugbear. When he wants physical affection he’ll be very careful with where his claws touch. If he picks you up he’s careful to not hurt you, and would definitely try not to touch you oddly in any way (more so out of embarrassment, but also respect). He is already pretty gentle mentally and emotionally, he needs the gentleness himself so he’s going to reflect those things onto you. He’s your cheerleader, as big and hairy as he is, he wants to be nothing but gentle with you.

• If you guys were in combat, he’d try to shield you from attacks that come your way if he’s able to. If you’re injured, he wants to help bandage you up if Gricko would let him, but he’s happy with holding you and carrying you around too. Just in general he’s already super sweet to almost everyone he meets, but when it comes to you he tries to be even more gentle.

H—onesty: How honest are they with you? Do they hide things from you? What do they hide?

• Torbek is awful at keeping secrets anyways, and he feels too guilty hiding things from people. He wouldn’t really have anything important to hide anyways, other than his trauma, and he’d be very vocal about not wanting to talk about it. He’d tell you everything that he remembers if he could, unless someone in the Krew told him not to say it then he’d start out saying it then slip and go something like “oops- Torbek almost said something he wasn’t supposed to.. sorry..” and while he doesn’t like keeping secrets, and is just awful at it, he tries his best because he cares about all of you very much.

• If you ask Torbek a question, he’d try to think if he’d know anything. If he can’t, he’d go ask Kremy or Frost for you (even if you already did) because they’re the smartest guys he knows! You have nothing to fear with this guy, if you think he’s cheating he’s probably just rolling in the mud tbh.

I—Love You: How would the first “I Love You” come from them? Would they say it first? How would they react when you tell them that you love them?

• Torbek would wait a pretty decent amount of time, maybe a few months, at most 4 months but as soon at 2. He really cares about you, and he’s scared that if he says “I love you” first you’ll be scared off. It would be a slip up too, he wouldn’t be thinking about it at all after being so anxiously carefully not to say it. You guys would just be hanging out and then you guys would have to part ways and Torbek would just “Torbek loves you! Bye! …wait…” He’d be a little scared at your response after that and would try to take it back and then realize taking back an “i love you” is probably a bad thing and just kind of spiral a little worried you’d leave, so please reassure the big guy.💀

• If you ended up telling him you loved him first, he’d cautiously say he’d love you back afterwards, still worried you’d leave. But for the very first time you told him you love him, the guy takes a second and then his face will light up and his ears will perk up a bit more. Ask you “really??” and get all excited and happy. You love Torbek!!! No one has ever said that to him!!! It’s really important to him, it’s a very sacred thing in general for him. “I love you” is the most promising indirect promise to him in his life time, to him it means that you trust and care for him enough to stay with him for a very long time. It immediately just makes him fall for you more.

J—ealousy: How would they express their jealousy? How would they handle their jealousy? How would they approach you with it?

• Torbek only really gets jealous when it comes to you for 3 things. All of which he’d respond to relatively similarly, though depending on the situation differently. He’s a very subtle jealous type for the most part, more so just worried that you’re going to leave. He in general will be very cautious of situations, and when jealousy is in the mix he’s a little more heavy on his feet.

• If someone flirts with you while Torbek is nearby or if Torbek hears, he’ll at first kind of just observe. But he’d very clearly be watching how you react to the situation the entire time and try to read your facial expressions about the situation. He’d mainly be playing by ear, ready to hop in if you wanted him to. However, in the back of his mind, he’s worried you’re going to go with this person instead of Torbek and—oh my gosh! Say the L word with them!! But he also trusts you and hopes you’d stay with Torbek. It was also depends on how the person is flirting with you and if Torbek is drunk/tipsy or not.

• If the person is being respectful with flirting, he’ll let you handle it unless you give him the look to help, which he’d happily oblige and just lay his head on you and nuzzle into you. If the person is persistent with you when you’re obviously uncomfortable, Torbek will place a hand on the person’s shoulder and be like “erm.. that’s Torbek’s partner.. so.. no thank you” and then do the same thing as the last one with you. If the person was very overbearing he’d step in immediately and go some like “Torbek thinks that isn’t very nice, (prn) doesn’t like that.. Torbek and {y/n} are together.. so Torbek would appreciate if you didn’t do that.” Now, if he’s drunk/tipsy, he’s going to be a lot more physical and a little more territorial. If he was under the influence with the first two options, he’d just walk over when he sees it happening and smoosh his face into your neck and wrap his large slender arms around you and watch the person with a little glare you can’t see and let out little snarls and huffs of acknowledgement of the situation. If it was the last option while drunk/tipsy, he’d literally just pick the person up from behind and carry them off and toss them somewhere then come back and snuggle with you.

• The second thing is if you seem to be hanging out more with other people than him. He’ll be a little jealous with the fact that you are more engulfed by them than him. He’d try to squeeze into the conversation anxiously to try to be involved. If you told him to go, he’d reluctantly do so. If you’d let him, he’d also want to lean on you during these times as a subtle way to show the others that Torbek’s attention is being deprived in some way, but he wouldn’t even realize he’s doing it. Afterwards, if you bring it up, he’d talk to you about it and how it made him feel.

• The last thing that would make Torbek jealous is if someone gives you a better gift than he did, or just a better service towards you in general. He wants to be the best at it for you!! They can’t just do that, he’s the boyfriend! It’s his job to be the best for you! >:[ So he’d try to one-up them in some way on the service.

K—iss: How would they like to kiss? What is their “style?” How do they react to kisses? How do they treat kisses?

• God, he loves kisses. “Torbek can do it.. for a kiss.. (insert the autism looking up image, but in his case, looking down). “Can Torbek get a kiss as a treat?” “Torbek feels deprived of kisses.” “Torbek wants kisses..” He loves being kissed by his partner! Anytime and anywhere! He wants those kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his hands, his tubes, his injuries, his lips!! He would die happy if you kiss attacked him. It’s what he lives for. If you kiss his lips he’s smitten, you’ve 100% casted Charm on him.

• When he kisses back, at first you have to teach him.. because at first he licks you. He uses licking as a way to do it for the first part of the relationship, but after he gets the hang of lips-only.. it’s still as slobbery for a while. You’d have to wipe your lips immediately after and he’d be so horrified because he didn’t realize he was still so slobbery after he wiped his lips beforehand. He’d get better as time goes on, and it would be only 40% slobber and 60% gentle lips, which is the best you’re going to get from him. But he wants those long lasting kisses the most, pretty please with cherries on top. Those are his favorite with you.

• Kisses are also very important for Torbek. They’re very sacred to him, and kisses mean you’ve made a commitment to him that no one else has. He’s attached to you like sticky slime in a fuzzy carpet, you don’t have a choice.

L—ove Language: What is their preferred love language with you? What love languages would work best with them?

• Physical touch and gift giving 110%. He wants to give you everything he has that makes him think of you. He wants you to have all of those pretty leaves and flowers and trinkets. He wants you to have all of the pretty jewelry even if he knows you don’t wear any. If he likes it and thinks it’s pretty it’s automatically pocketed for you. Physical touch is also a huge thing for him, and you’re full of it! He wants to cuddle at the end of the night, he wants to sit next to you any chance he can, he wants to sniff you too. If you lay down for the night and let him just curl around you in a ball and hide you away, he’s alive! And sometimes he wants to be the one who hides away.. as big as he is.. and wants to be the little spoon. He’ll curl up as small as he can just for that to happen.

• He’d prefer someone who had physical touch as a love language too. He knows he can be clingy and starved of affection, so having someone who loves those things is perfect for him! He’d also love gifts, but he’d be somewhat nervous about it too, wanting to give you gifts in return for the gift. He probably wouldn’t really actively notice acts of service, but he’d 100% go like “awww, Torbek appreciates your help, but Torbek doesn’t mind doing it himself! :D “ and then just do it himself unless you force him to sit like a puppy in training.

M—emories: What memories would they cherish with you the most? How well would they remember things about you?

• If he could, he’d remember every single detail about you and every single event with you. Alas, he can’t no matter how hard he tries to. However, the moments that mean the most to him emotionally are the top of his list to think about and replay in his head, milestones. First kiss, first time you let Torbek ‘groom’ you (aka lick attack you), first time you go on a date, those things. While he might not be able to remember every single detail about those events, what he remembers the most is how you made him feel in those moments. He wants to stop that moment in time and replay them over and over with you.

• He may remember some major minor things as well, like your favorite color, food, texture, scent, and more when it comes to gift giving. He wants to remember those things to keep something with him that reminds him of you, and he want to give you gifts that he knows you will enjoy in some aspect.

N—icknames: What type of nicknames would they call you? How would they treat the nicknames you give them? How important are nicknames to them?

• Torbek in all honesty would be the guy you think would give the really cringy petnames, but to be honest he has no idea how to properly give one. He’d ask Gideon for help with it, not wanting to come off as weird with his names. He’d be on the more mellow side of nicknames, going for the safe options like “honey” or “baby” for the most part. But he’d also experiment with some options, going into the “danger zone” as he’d think. He’d try something like “flower” or maybe “dove” (Gricko would suggest that).

• Torbek would be relatively cautious about how often he uses them, he doesn’t want them to be an everyday thing to water it down, but he doesn’t want to go too long without it. He’ll kind of just say it when he feels like it’s a romantic enough of a moment? He just doesn’t want to make you run off with him indirectly being annoying with it or making you uncomfortable.

• Now if you give Torbek a nickname? He’s smitten (again) and wants to melt for you. You care about him enough to give him his own nickname? He’s ESTATIC!! He’ll treasure it forever and designate it as yours only, he would from then on feel uncomfortable if anyone tried to call him by that name. He is happy with anything you give him, unless it’s just insulting.

O—bviousness: How obvious was it for you to notice they liked you? How obvious is it now for other people know if you’re together or not?

• Torbek didn’t necessarily hide it, and it’s not like he’s trying either. He’d make comments like “well Torbek thinks {y/n} is attractive” or “Torbek thinks you’re very pretty/handsome” and then make little hushed comments about wishing to be hugged by you or wanting to cuddle. He’s never really thought that he had to hide his admiration for people, and you’re no exception. The only other person he compliments about physical appearance is Gideon, but it’s platonic. He really thinks all of his friends are attractive in their own ways, but only platonically and as a friend. For you, it’s different he could feel that growing from the beginning. He wants romance from you, and he just.. doesn’t hide that he does.

• Literally everyone knew he liked you, and they knew the compliments and comments towards you weren’t like the ones he gave them. They noticed he was a lot more nervous giving compliments to you in comparison to themselves. They’d tease him about it out of earshot of you. But they’d really just be encouraging him to make a move if you hadn’t already.

P—ersistance: How persistent are they with the relationship? Are they proactive in the relationship to keep it fueling?

• He’s always absentmindedly trying to keep the relationship going, more so from fear of abandonment, but nonetheless he’s trying. He’ll do anything you ask, take some initiative some times (even if you kind of wished he didn’t depending on the task), and keeping your guys’ love strong.

• He’s very empathetic, even if he can’t catch the cues. If he thinks the relationship is slipping, he’s going to do something! Even if he has to ask others for advice, he’s too worried to let you slip too far away.

Q—uest: If you were being challenged in the relationship, how would they take it? How would they work through it with you?

• If you guys were clashing heads a lot, Torbek would try to ask for advice on what can be done. He doesn’t want to spend so much time with the person he cares so much about just arguing all of the time. He’s going to try to talk about it in some way, offering a gift first to get the conversation going. He doesn’t like rocky roads in relationships, mainly because he believes they are all his fault or because he just doesn’t like tension in general.

R—espect: How much respect do they show you through the relationship? How do you show it? What does respect mean to them from you?

• So much respect!! He’s always willing to open pickle jars for you, open doors, carry stuff for you or even carry you! He refuses to touch you other than the middle, shoulders and hands unless you say he can or if it’s a complete accident. He respects your boundaries when you vocalize them, and he’ll do his best to abide by each and every one.

• Respect is pretty important for him to abide by, but he hasn’t really come to terms with the fact that he deserves respect too. He will vocalize if someone is mean or rude to him but that’s it, he doesn’t even really respect himself to be fair.

S—afe: What would they do to ensure your safety with them? What would they do to make sure you feel safe with them as a person?

• Torbek would make sure you’re safe in and out of combat, making sure you’re not too close to the edge of a cliff and make sure no enemies target you easily. He might not be able to get you every time, but he’ll damn sure try! He’ll make sure he can do what he can for you, just give him the word.

• If the Witchlight starts to overtake him, his first instinct is to get as far away from you as possible while he still can. He doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you because of it, and he’ll isolate himself to prevent it.

• When sleeping out on your travels, he’ll keep an ear open and keen to the environment around you all. If something sounds odd or concerning, he’s up in an instant in order to hopefully catch what it was. He just doesn’t want to risk it.

T—rust: Do they trust you in the relationship? Do they feel nervous or completely relaxed in the relationship?

• God, what doesn’t he trust you with? You say you love Torbek!! Torbek trusts you wholeheartedly and more!! He never has in the back of his mind you might cheat, he never doubts your responses and explanations to anything! You could tell him dolphins weren’t real and he’d be like “Torbek didn’t know that.. okay!!” And go on his merry way without a second thought? This is a dangerous power you have over him, and while he trusts you, there is a limit. He’s not an imbecile.

• If you over step this dangerous vulnerability of trust with him, he’s going to become rougher around the edges. Slowly, he’ll become more aware and doubt your claims about things as a whole, even if you’re telling the truth. It might take like 6 fuck ups in your part, but he’ll get there. And the main things that could get him like that are if you abruptly leave him without warning and come back, if you break-up with him and then come back a while later for him, and if you try to seclude him from his friends. Otherwise, he trusts you with his heart and soul as long as you don’t play with them.

U—topia: What is their perfect dream/future like and where do you play a part in it?

• Torbek’s dream is to travel with the crew for the rest of his life, and he wants you there with him. All of his favorite people together? That’s his dream come true. He wants to marry you, or just romantically be with you until the end even if you don’t necessarily marry. I don’t think he’d really desire kids in anyway, so it would be out of the question. He just wants you to be happy with him.

V—alue: How much do they value the relationship? How important is it to them?

• It’s the most important thing to him as a whole, he absolutely desires your relationship after being with you officially. He would do what he can to help the situation between you both. He can’t imagine being without you in the relationship after so much time with you.

W—ish: What is something they wish could happen when it comes to your relationship? Why?

• He wants to travel with his friends, and you, whether it be adventuring or having another carnival, for the rest of his life. He kind of likes having the unexpected hit him when it’s not scary, and he wants to share those experiences with you if all people.

• He would like to be with you until the end, married or not. While marriage is what would be expected, he honestly wouldn’t mind you guys decided not to marry and just date for the rest of your lives. I don’t think he’d like to have kids though, as cute as he’d think they were, he’d also be kind of scared of raising a tiny little thing like that.

X—tra: Freebie!

• I know everything in this list makes Torbek sounds like an overly anxious self-hating bugbear, but that’s not the case most of the time. Yes, he is anxious and doesn’t have a high sense of self esteem, he’s functioning. He can make his little perverted jokes here and there, flirt to the best of his abilities, and be your average boy loser./pos But possibly his favorite thing to do with you is annoy you a good healthy amount to keep you on your toes, to tell you he’s not going to 100% depend on you emotionally or mentally. He can handle himself. How does he express it? Pure purposeful stupidness.

• He’ll joke about just about anything with you! Poke you gently, elbow you while chuckling to himself, point at something random and go “look it’s you! :D” just for the fuck of it. He might be a dumbass, but a healthy amount of dumbass. He likes using that to advantage because he knows you like it to a degree.

• He feels comfortable “letting his stupid loose” as Kremy would say half jokingly. Torbek is a more than enough functioning boy failure and he kind of likes being that way for you sometimes.

Y—earning: How do they react to you being gone? How do they cope with being away from you? How would they treat you when you come back?

• The most he can handle away from you is a single day, even though he’d start complaining and whining just hours in. He’s worried you’re leaving, that you’re in danger, or you’re lost. He’s sure you can handle yourself.. but you can never be too sure. He’s like a sad puppy.

• When you’re back, he’s all over you. He’s yipping and picking you up happily. He wants to know every detail of what happened, curious but also worried. He wants to make sure you’re okay, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He just wants to be by your side almost every hour he can.

Z—eal: What would they do to the extent of your relationship? Is there anything they would sacrifice the relationship for?

• He would do anything he can to keep the relationship alive. He fight for you, shield you with himself, lay with you, anything at all. The only thing he wouldn’t do for you is hurt or disrespect his friends. He loved them very much, they’re his family in his eyes! And while you are the love of his life, and also family to him due to that, if he had to choose between you and the crew, it’s a hard pick for him.

• He will do what he can to keep this relationship, even if it starts to make some things a little hard. You are very important to him, and anything that is important to him he will do what he can for.

[thecoolerliauditore]

opinions on pearlscar?

first off an apology because being disappointed back to back by two series I was very excited for and following in real time did something very strange to me interest-wise and i've fallen back into being into league and my language has started reflecting that with league terms being reintegrated back into my vocabulary.

so anyway in league (and im sure a lot of other games but ive mostly heard it w/ league) "sleeper OP" means a character who is overpowered but not many people are aware OR people are aware but forget. In other words it's being "slept on" hence sleeper OP.

pearlscar is the sleeper OP ship of the life series. people either 1. are aware that it is peak (even people who don't necessarily ship them ive noticed tend to lean towards "can see it") but don't focus on it as a ship for one reason or another or 2. are unaware of it because people don't make enough noise.

for me personally i adore any ship that involves characters with parallels and well. vaguely gestures towards LL Scar and DL Pearl and their respective partnerships with Grian and Scott. Scar encouraging Pearl's destructive tendencies in DL by recommending powdered snow, although cruel, read to me as a sign of sympathy that no one else really gave Pearl that season. They are very similar people at the end of the day (the villain to their enemies, a loose canon to their "allies" and deeply lonely with a yearning for friendship above all else).

And because they are similar people, they can very easily slot into what eachother need that they're constantly looking for elsewhere with Grian and Scott. Or at least, I think they would.

they also just? idk they make sense in my head as an endgame ship, not that those will ever really exist (except for jizzie ig lmao). I've held this thought forever but it peaked during the SL finale -- probably the biggest showcase of why I love them together so much -- although part of me didn't really fully subscribe to it just cus with gempearl also being a big heavy hitter to my frontal lobe that season it made it feel alot like idk. one of those old anime that was yuri the whole way through but then the mc leaves her gf to die and marries a man and it's all melancholic and upsetting but bittersweet. here have this post in my drafts I made at the time that came out that I was too afraid to post lmao

although ig with WL being as disappointing as it was to me that I've sort of decanonized it in my personal headspace they are as endgame as it gets lol

all that aside just. yeah. two lonely goofy people who find happiness in eachother. and get to be goofy and fun together. thumbs up. also that elven kiss clip was really cute but we all know this

[garrickc]

For: @lrivkin

It is strange how different yet the same monuments are. From the butchery on Main to the laundromat on Sixth, some parallels will forever remind him of another place. Even the concrete beneath his feet is new, repaved but reeking of an ancient life that came before. If it is not the first of things, then it will always be compared to something older, more primitive.

It's two months of getting the lay of the land. Learning another city. Picking out the dealings in the dark and a soloist in searching for a rumour with life. Cities that come alive at night are more dangerous than they'll ever be in the daylight. But he'd come for the promise of seeing a glimmer of the sun again.

History is bedeviled to repeat itself with him.

'The Satin Cabaret has a new Madame—'

He's not a frugal man, but he's cursed to be a defiantly hopeful one. And maybe it's just a rumour, or a real shitty coincidence. But the Madame has a name he's not heard in seventy years. Two months of sitting at the Cabaret bar, imagining more than just the city streets in the eyes of those he's never seen before. It's why he reeks of diesel and oil by morning. Because she's not there.

'She's been away, she'll be back soon.'

He'd said that to himself so many times. A liar can recognise when they're being shafted down the gutter. It's a waste of time, and there's no speech in his head curated enough to ever be said somewhere other than his dreams. But he's got so much damn time, that he's still there, every night between getting behind wheels to just know if it's the same woman. He has to know. Has to.

It's all very beatnik in the Cabaret, that he's idly stirring the Mai Tai in front of him and wondering which one of these nights he's going to cave in. Whilst he's dressed in a jacket and a shirt, convincingly enough to be let in the door. He's not paid for the Mai Tai, and there's no bills in his pocket that mean he's got anything these women want.

"You said you were waiting for—?"

The voice tears him out of making waves in his drink, to the man behind the bar. A door closes, a flash of hair, and a clack of heels. Garrick turns back to the person speaking, "Yeah, is she here?"

"Just got here." A vague gesture towards the door has him abandoning his drink and slipping towards the closed door. There's a protest, "Hey man, you can't just walk in—"

Garrick gestures to the bar, "Well ain't that a bite." He's doing it anyway.

It's unclear if the door opens willingly, or if the click, snap is something broken. But he's in, kicking the door closed behind him. There's a corridor, less satin, more low-lit circus, as he scours the dressing rooms and dodges past shocked faces to see a stranger in the walls.

She's got her name on the door. If his heart had beat, it would have swelled and stuttered in amongst pride and anticipation. He steps around the corner, shoulders himself in the threshold of the doorway as she powders and puffs. It's a side profile of hair and mirrors, but it's her. He'd know those hands and those legs. All that electricity begins to shock him into a former self, dredges up something older.

Words come first before eyes that rake:

"Hey, doll." Maybe he should have brought flowers or a heart in a gift box. (She might like his, even) Given her keys to a Carrera he'd have to steal to acquire. Garrick only has to look around to know that she's made something of a world, without him.

It burns a little, actually. Underneath the proud. "Nice place you've got."

[hellsite-proteins]

here have more from the linda hate

“So, uh, You know, what’s up with… all this?” I gesture vaguely towards our surroundings.

Nathan looks up from the phone he’s been glued to for the past who knows how long with a smirk.

“The band teacher got arrested for pedophilia.”

Now, out of all of the thousands of instances I prepared for this was most definitely not one I prepared for.

“I-I… What??? So are you guys just waiting here until he gets out of jail? Or for a replacement?”

Linda looks up with a disgusted look.

“Nope. He got a life sentence, and the school won't bother with getting another teacher.”

“Holy shit… Was it really that bad?”

She stares straight into my soul with dead, blank eyes as she utters the last words I would have ever expected from this conversation.

“It wasn't just one case. The school found out when someone sent a photo of him and Jeffery Epstein hugging.”

At this point I'm having an aneurysm because the last thing I expected from this conversation was the revelation that the school I have just transferred to harboured an Epstein supporter.

“oh.

…

oh.”

what a beautiful scene, it truely brings a tear to my eye

please never give me more context for these

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

ShYknwwhatspwithallthisIgestrevagelytwardsrsrrndingsNathanlkspfrmthephneheseengledtfrthepastwhknwshwlngwithasmirkTheandteachergtarrestedfrpedphiliaNwtfallfthethsandsfinstancesIpreparedfrthiswasmstdefinitelyntneIpreparedfrIIWhatSareygysstwaitingherentilhegetstfailrfrareplacementLindalkspwithadisgstedlkNpeHegtalifesentenceandtheschlwnttherwithgettingantherteacherHlyshitWasitreallythatadShestaresstraightintmyslwithdeadlankeyesasshettersthelastwrdsIwldhaveeverepectedfrmthiscnversatinItwasntstnecaseTheschlfndtwhensmenesentaphtfhimandefferyEpsteinhggingAtthispintImhavingananerysmecasethelastthingIepectedfrmthiscnversatinwastherevelatinthattheschlIhavesttransferredtharredanEpsteinspprterhh

protein guy analysis:

this structure is full of gaps and holes, and it looks like most of the side chains are not allowed within 100 yards of each other. as a result, the surface is largely just an outline of individual residues with many big cavities and pockets. despite that, we still did get some secondary structures – most notably a series of parallel beta sheets. there are only two strands making up each sheet, so it is unlikely that they would be stable enough to exist in real life. there are also some scattered helices and many loops. overall, this is really pushing the limits on what we would ever think is stable and structured enough to be called a native structure.

predicted protein structure:

cartoon representation

surface representation

[brainjvice]

I was reading epnagi's leaks and as much as I love my boy Karasu... I am a bit perplexed by knsr's choices for his character.

I just feel like the "I am gonna overcompensate my weaknesses by learning how to spot other people's own and using them to my advantage" type of mentality was already used like right now in Kaiser's backstory and all. So idk to me it kinda feels a bit... redundant and underwhelming?

I mean kaiser brought this whole concept at its VERY EXTREME due to [gestures vaguely at his backstory] all that.

From another point of view this could be seen as an interesting way to see how much trauma impacts you, which is cool when it comes to parallelisms and such. It makes sense from a timing point of view as well, considering whats going on in the main story.

At the same time it kinda feels wrong to reduce Karasu's backstory/behavior to an enhancer(?) of Kaiser's. Which is why I'm still a bit "meh" about it. Not mad, but yk. I wish there was more to it?

(Or maybe I am just very biased towards Kaiser, which could be lmfao, and see him everywhere even when im not supposed to) (edit: altho that krs panel looks SUSPICIOUSLY similar to Kaiser's one. So yeah Im not being that biased at the end of the day)

ANYWAY I havent read the full chapter yet so my opinion about this may change lmfao but i still had to yap this out of my system first!

[geekusfemme]

Fenrir

Full story on Ao3 — Wattpad 100k+

Astarion x Female OC

Rating: Mature

Summary: What if Astarion was betrayed by the Dark Urge and handed over to the Gur Hunter? And what if another kind of hunter saved him and set his life on a new course, one that would ultimately lead him to cross paths with those who had abandoned him? This story aims to give Astarion his own hero's journey separate to the main party, and will run parallel to the canon story in which Durge will be an antagonist.

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

Chapter Six: After the battle in the grove, Ashara is returning the power granted to her by Fenrir...

—★—

The forest clearing was bathed in the eerie luminescence of pre-dawn, when Astarion, Ashara and Onyx returned to the ritual site, five spectral wolves trailing behind them.

A faint mist curled around their ankles like restless spirits as Ashara dropped to one knee, her head bowed low, her ebony hair spilling over her shoulders like a cascade of black silk. Her voice, steady but reverent, carried through the silence. "Lord Fenrir, the hunt is complete. I return thy power and thank thee for thy favor."

The runes around the carved circle began to glow, and once again Fenrir's haunting visage appeared in the centre, wreathed in smoke and a cold flickering light as his voice echoed through the air.

"Thou hast done well. Vengeance has been wrought and souls laid to rest."

One by one, the spectral wolves stepped into the swirling smoke pouring from the rockface, their translucent forms dissipating like mist under the morning sun. Their departure was elegant and final, a wordless goodbye. Astarion's crimson eyes tracked them, captivated. The pull was primal, a nagging desire he couldn't quite suppress.

Before he could think better of it, he stepped forward, his boots crunching softly on the leaf-strewn ground. He raised a hand, his pale fingers trembling slightly as he asked loudly, "I don't suppose you'd consider letting one or two of those stick around, would you?"

The air froze, as if the forest itself had taken a sharp breath. Fenrir's glowing eyes snapped to him, their intensity like twin suns bearing down on his head. Astarion swallowed hard, his instinct to flee warring with his determination to stand his ground.

In front of him, Ashara stood and twisted her head to hiss, "What are you doing?"

Ignoring her, Astarion took another step forward. His movements were measured, calculated to appear confident despite the fluttering in his stomach. He offered Fenrir his most charming smile, the one that had gotten him out of trouble - and into worse trouble - countless times. "It's just that they're quite handy in a fight," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the departing wolves, "and I have a rather powerful individual on my tail that I need protection from."

Onyx, standing silently beside him, tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing. "We have already promised you protection."

"Yes, yes, I know," Astarion replied, waving a hand dismissively. "But it never hurts to have a backup plan. Besides, I can't stay in your shadows forever, relying on you two like some coddled fledgling."

His crimson eyes flicked back to Fenrir, who hadn't moved but somehow radiated an increasing intensity. "So, Fenrir... do you mind if I call you Fenrir? 'My Lord' has always left a rather bitter taste in my mouth." He tilted his head, his tone sliding into a disarming casualness. "How does one go about earning your favor - specifically, the spectral hounds-of-death variety?"

The clearing fell silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves above. Fenrir's skull tilted slightly, the smoke around it swirling in lazy circles as if it were considering him. Ashara groaned quietly and covered her face with one hand, her shoulders slumping in mortification.

Finally, Fenrir spoke, his voice a guttural rumble that seemed to come from the depths of the earth. "Onyx..."

Onyx flattened his ears against his head and gave Astarion a look of pure reproach that seemed to say 'now you've done it', before turning to face Fenrir.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Who is this upstart pup?"

Astarion made an indignant sound in his throat, but Onyx's response came quickly, measured and deliberate. "Astarion of Baldur's Gate. He is... a vampire spawn newly escaped from his sire. Ashara offered him temporary sanctuary within our pack."

Astarion noted the slight pause before Onyx admitted what he was, and his brows furrowed in irritation. So even here, the truth of his nature warranted caution. Fenrir's gaze returned to him, and though the skull lacked flesh, Astarion swore it narrowed its non-existent eyelids.

"I see..." Fenrir said, his tone inscrutable.

Astarion's lip curled, his irritation surfacing before he could stop it, mingling with the sting of old wounds. "Let me guess. Being a vampire automatically disqualifies me from earning your so-called favor, doesn't it?" His voice was bitter now, his mask slipping just enough to reveal the cracks beneath. "Stupid of me to think you'd be any different from any of the other gods I've begged for help."

Ashara's hand dropped, her sharp gaze flicking to him with an odd mix of curiosity and sympathy. Astarion cursed himself silently for revealing more than he intended.

Fenrir's reply, when it came, was unexpected. "It is not thy nature that precludes thee, vampire. Rather, thy impudence."

Astarion blinked, surprised. "Oh," he said, then tilted his head and offered a sly, disarming smile. "So... you're saying I have a shot at being one of your 'faithful few' if I'm a good boy then?"

Ashara's palm slapped against her face with a sound so loud it echoed. Onyx exhaled slowly, his eyes closing as though praying for patience.

The weight of Fenrir's gaze didn't waver, and the silence stretched for an agonizing moment before the wolf god spoke again, his tone heavy with skepticism. "While not impossible... thou wouldst be the first of thy kind to gain my favor."

Astarion's grin widened, reckless. "Well... I'm always up for a challenge."

Onyx opened his eyes and sighed, his voice heavy with resignation. "Astarion... now would be a good time to stop talking."

Before Astarion could reply, Ashara grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his sleeve. "That's enough," she whispered, her voice urgent. "We need to go. Now."

He resisted, turning his head to glance at her with a raised brow. "I'm not done yet."

"Yes, you are," she snapped, heaving at his arm. "The message runes have a time limit."

"Do they?"

Her grip tightened, her voice rising in frustration. "Honestly, I have no idea. I've never spoken to him this long before."

As she hauled him backward, he twisted to shout one last time to Fenrir. "We'll talk later, darling. Can't wait to discuss terms and conditions!"

Ashara squeaked, horrified. "You can't just call an all-powerful wolf god 'darling'!"

He leaned closer to her as they retreated, his grin positively wicked. "I don't see any lightning bolts coming to smite me, so I'd say he probably liked it."

Fenrir's voice rumbled one last time, sending a shiver through the clearing. "Onyx... remain here. I desire to have words with thee."

Astarion raised a brow, feigning innocence. "Oh dear... Do you think he's in trouble for letting riff-raff into the pack?"

Ashara paused and frowned, perplexed. "What are riff-raff?"

Astarion rolled his eyes, his tone dripping condescension. "It's another word for people who are disreputable or undesirable, darling. The lowest in society."

Her brow furrowed, genuine confusion evident. "Then why are you calling yourself that?"

For a moment, her earnestness struck him silent. He blinked, his heart skipping uncomfortably. Quickly, he masked it with a haughty smile. "Sorry, I forgot sarcasm was lost on you. If anything, I've improved the quality of your pack substantially."

Ashara's irritation returned in full force as she resumed pulling him away. "Whatever. Onyx can handle himself. Let's go."

Astarion relented, chuckling softly to himself as she dragged him into the forest shadows.

—◇—

Onyx stood motionless, his amber eyes fixed on the spot where Ashara and Astarion had disappeared into the dark embrace of the forest. The faint rustle of leaves marked their fading presence, and with it, Onyx felt the weight of his solitude grow heavier. He resisted the urge to follow, knowing that duty demanded his presence here.

They had left him to face Fenrir's ire, and he couldn't help but envy the vampire's carefree attitude as he had been dragged away.

He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling as he turned to face the glowing skull. The smoke swirling around it seemed thicker now, charged with a menacing energy that made the fur along his back prickle. His ears flattened instinctively as he lowered his gaze in deference.

Fenrir's voice rumbled, low and foreboding, like an earthquake building beneath the surface. "Onyx, my faithful servant. My most trusted soulshard and defender of all I hold dear..."

The words, though ostensibly kind, struck Onyx with the weight of a predator circling its prey. He winced internally, recognizing the ominous prelude. Fenrir's praises often foreshadowed a reckoning.

The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate. Onyx's ears flicked back nervously, and his tail instinctively tucked between his legs. The glowing skull flared, its ethereal light carving stark shadows across the clearing. When Fenrir spoke again, his voice was thunderous, shaking the very air around them.

"WHY, IN ALL THE BLOODY NINE HELLS, IS MY DAUGHTER RUNNING AROUND WITH A GODS-DAMNED VAMPIRE SPAWN?!"

The reverberation of Fenrir's outrage rattled Onyx's teeth and he swallowed hard, carefully lowering himself into a seated position. He curled his tail neatly around his paws, presenting an appearance of calm he did not feel.

Clearing his throat, he spoke with measured tones. "She demonstrated a compassionate impulse and rescued Astarion from a cruel fate. He sought her protection and has been traveling with us ever since. The vampire has proved himself a useful - if somewhat disruptive - companion."

"I don't care." Fenrir's growl cut through the air like a blade. "Get rid of him."

Onyx hesitated, his mind racing for a tactful response. "Ashara seems to have taken a liking to him..."

"She's not having a vampire as a companion!" Fenrir snapped, his tone edged with incredulity. "Get her a hook horror or something else less... less...whatever that was back there."

Onyx's muzzle twitched, but he quickly suppressed the smile. "She has made her choice, my lord."

A sharp, pointed glare burned through the glowing orbs of Fenrir's skull. "He hasn't bitten her, has he?"

"No," Onyx replied quickly. "He has only fed on me so far."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Onyx dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Understood, my lord. But I do not believe Astarion poses any danger to Ashara. He seems... content to simply aid us in exchange for safety."

Fenrir scoffed, the mist swirling violently in response. "Maybe not a physical danger, but vampires are cruel, selfish, power-hungry opportunists. If he ever finds out what she is, or figures out her connection to me—"

"He won't," Onyx interjected firmly. "She doesn't even know herself. The secret of her birth is still only known to the Fenris Guard."

Fenrir's presence seemed to still, the oppressive weight of his gaze easing fractionally. "Still... I don't want my daughter being corrupted by a creature like that."

Onyx hesitated before speaking, his voice thoughtful. "My intuition tells me that this vampire has the potential to evolve beyond his nature, given the right environment. It may be that Ashara will influence him far more than he will her."

The massive skull tilted slightly, as if considering his words. "Hmm... the possibility is intriguing. And I suppose, even if he turns around and stabs her in the back, at least she will have had a valuable lesson on the duplicity of mortals and the sting of betrayal."

Onyx's jaw tightened at the callous remark, but he kept his expression neutral.

"So..." he ventured cautiously, "Astarion can stay?"

Fenrir huffed, the sound reverberating like a distant avalanche. "Yes, yes, fine. She can keep the spawn. But I want regular updates on the situation. And if he bites her even once, he goes. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Onyx replied with a nod.

A long silence followed, and Onyx's fur prickled with unease. He wasn't sure if more was expected of him. Fenrir finally broke the quiet, his tone thoughtful. "Onyx. Do you think the archaic syntax and having people address me as 'my lord' these days is a bit... much?"

Onyx's ears flicked forward in surprise, and he blinked rapidly, scrambling for an appropriate response. "Lord is a title of respect that even mortals use among nobility. However, the common tongue has... shifted somewhat in the last thousand or so years."

Fenrir's spectral glow dimmed slightly as he seemed to ponder the observation. "Hmmm..."

Onyx tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why do you ask?"

Fenrir's voice grew abrupt, almost curt. "No reason. From now on, you can occasionally address me as sir."

Onyx's jaw opened, then closed, his thoughts a jumble of disbelief and bemusement. Finally, he settled for a cautious, "As you wish... sir."

The god gave an approving grunt before dismissing him with a flicker of light. Onyx stood slowly, the tension in his muscles easing as the oppressive presence began to fade, replaced with an almost anticlimactic silence. With a shake of his fur and a resigned sigh, he turned toward the forest, wondering - not for the first time - how he could have been born from the essence of a being so... erratic.

Like what you're reading so far? Check out the full chapter in the link below.

[averagecontentenjoyer121]

Chapter 10: Reunion

Three years of living with the royal family has been nice to Athena. She was constantly taken care of by Penelope whenever she needed it, and Penelope had a sixth sense for when that was. And the happiness that Telemachus brought her let her overcome most obstacles. But there was still this sense of loneliness creeping its way into Athena. Staying locked up barely being able to talk to others had given her a sort of cabin fever. Granted she loved the royal family to death, but the lack of communication with others was driving her slowly insane.

One night Hypnos was running late for whatever reason and so she went out for some air, hopefully to clear her head to help her sleep. She began walking along a river that ran parallel to the palace. As she walked she began to hear singing. The same singing she had been hearing in her dreams. She quickened her pace, determined to discover who it was that was singing.

As she turned around the curve of the river she had made it back closer to the palace. She could now see the window leading into the room she slept in. And there lying on the edge of the beach was her. She had been singing the reverse of what her kind usually do, she was pouring her feelings out into the world.

Athena stood there mesmerized by the singing. Not because it had drugged her mind, but because it was genuinely beautiful. Athena listened to the concert that was all for her, but then she shifted her leg. Some stones crackled under her step causing enough sound to alert the siren. She turned to gaze at her attendant, her face turning a shade of dark red. She retreated under the water not knowing what to say.

Athena rushed after her, but was unable to reach her. She sat beside the river unsure if she should say what entered her mind or not because the siren might just be gone, but she did anyway. “Uh, I’ve heard your singing in my dreams and tonight hearing it in person was better than any dream could ever be,” silence persisted but so did she, “I’ve kept this piece of coral you gave me. I still don’t understand its meaning, but I know, to you, it’s important for me to keep this,” she said, after pulling out the red coral she hadn’t taken out in three years, “If you decide to come out I’ll be waiting over here,” Athena said vaguely gesturing behind her.

Athena slowly moved away from the water hoping the siren would reappear. Noticing the lack of reemergence she settled down on the oddly soft grass, using her cape as a makeshift pillow. As she lay there half asleep, the siren cautiously came out of the river. She slowly crawled towards Athena, of whom could hear her approach. Once the siren got to Athena it paused for a moment. She then curled up beside Athena, resting her head on Athena’s chest. Athena then moved slightly so that she was now embracing the siren while she slept, which caused the Siren to blush again. The white noise generated by the purrs of the Siren aided both in their search for sleep.

Penelope came into Athena’s room to wish her good night only to be surprised to see that she was gone. She looked out the window to see Athena slumbering with the Siren. She smiled happy that Athena had found another friend. Suddenly the irritating demeanor of the god of sleep made itself known. “Hay Athe-“ he was cut off by the shushing of Penelope. She then gestured out to where Athena slept. “Why didn’t she bring ‘er into the room,” he whispered, “would’ve been more comfortable.” Penelope glared at his ignorance. “You think they’ve had a bash?” He said with a mischievous grin which was contrasted by the bags under his eyes. Penelope clamped down on his cheek like a coconut crab while staring at Hypnos in disgust as she hadn’t known what he meant, but made an assumption of its meaning. “Settle yourself, I made a joke about if you thought they’ve kissed. Jeez get your mind out da gutta,” he squicked out. “Still rude to ask about a relationship you don’t know about,” Penelope said through a scowl. “Ya think she needs my help this time?”

“No, and I want you to stay away from them. I know you’ll ruin their moment.”

“Alright then, I guess Athena 1, Hypnos 1195,” he says, chuckling in tone mocking defeat, whilst flying away on his winged ears.

Penelope stood there with her arms crossed, but with a softer expression. She stared out at Athena smiling as it seemed the two had gotten closer.

The sun warmed the two bodies residing beside the river. Athena opened her eyes to see the scaled fish-like body of the siren resting partly on her left, somehow not triggering pain within Athena. Athena smiled happily to finally get to see the person who had allowed her to be in Ithaca. Athena slowly began to sit up carefully moving the siren’s head so it now lay on the left side of her lap. She began to brush the siren’s hair waiting for her to wake up so she could for the first time talk to her. The siren purred as it woke, then realizing that it was being touched, it turned to look at Athena who was smiling down at her. The siren’s face became a dark maroon hue as it felt a strange version of happiness and fear. Her body tensed unsure about what to do, until Athena spoke, “Hello, I don’t think I caught your name,” her face only grew more and more maroon. She spoke for the first time in years, “Pithera,” she whispered out her barely opened mouth. “That’s a wonderful name,” said Athena. Pithera smiled, having been charmed by Athena’s nice words. “Oh,” Athena continued, “I said that I still had this, but I didn’t know if you heard me,” She said, pulling the piece of coral out. Pithera’s eyes grew as she saw the coral. “I don’t know what it means or why you wanted me to have it. Could you please tell me?”

“We give those we love coral. If they keep it that shows they also love us, but if they don’t that means they don’t love us,” she quietly said looking off to the side, “b-but you’re the first one who’s ever kept the coral I gave,” she said with an overjoyed smile. Athena embraced Pithera. First surprised by Athena, Pithera then embraces her back, nuzzling under her chin.

Ive also started work on chapter 11, and edited the earlier chapters a little, but that’ll have to wait until I get and AO3 account, the edits that is.

[maccreadysbaby]

Bentley & Bellamy Parallels 🥹

I told some of you I would do this, so here it is — all the baby bentley and baby bellamy parallels I could fish out of my fics… I hope you enjoy them lol they’re all sad. bentley is blue and bell is green :)

(1)

“You’re really here, too. We’re both here. In the Manor. You’re awake,”

Bentley sobbed.

He buried his face in his knees, hoping to at least stifle the pathetic sounding cries a little, but it wasn’t really any use. He was crying like he was dying and there was no way to hide it.

a hundred days to become a wayne, chapter 10, reality

"You're awake now."

Bellamy seemed to respond okay to it. Okay, as in, he didn't launch into a horrible anxiety meltdown. He hid his face in his hands and stayed utterly silent, though, Bentley was seasoned enough in emotional turmoil to tell when someone was crying without making it obvious.

project: killcode chapter 11, poison dart frogs and dinosaurs

(2)

“You’re not asleep anymore. It’s all over now.”

Tim wasn’t at the bottom of the stairs.

Bentley sobbed and peeled the blankets off of his trembling body, shooting straight off his bed, colliding with Tim with almost enough force to knock him flat over. He synched his arms around his neck so tightly he thought he might’ve been choking him, collapsing onto his knees and balling the fabric of his hoodie up in his hands.

a hundred days to become a wayne, chapter 16, favoritism

Without any other words, in one sudden, jerky movement, Bellamy threw himself off the bed and collided with Bentley hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of him. Bentley wasn’t sure what was going on until he comprehended that Bellamy’s arms were around him.

“Oh,” Was his first reaction — not very helpful, he guessed. He brought his arms up and around him quickly. “It’s okay. You’re awake.”

project: killcode chapter 13, descendants and a sadie hawkins

(3)

“I couldn’t…” He vaguely gestured back toward where the tie was laying on the counter. His face flushed pink when he realized this was a really dumb thing to be upset about. He took in a shaky breath and tried to blink the tears away, but they ended up falling the first time he closed his eyes. “I tried, but, I… my dad, he… I don’t…”

a hundred ways to become a wayne, chapter 4, useless, worthless, and everything in between

Bellamy held up one of his hands the slightest bit, and his tie was balled up in it. He made sure not to look Bentley in the eye when he muttered: "I can't do it."

project: killcode chapter 14, the right thing

(4)

“I’ll meet you back here to walk you to the library for your free period, okay?” Duke questioned. He let go of Bentley’s shoulder, probably to walk away, and a surge of panic shot through him tenfold. He made a small, embarrassing sound and reached out, clamping onto the sleeve of Duke’s blazer.

a hundred ways to become a wayne, chapter 5, bristol vs crime alley

As they worked their way out of the building with what seemed like every other teenager in the world, all packed into the halls like sardines, Bentley felt a tug on his blazer sleeve.

When he glanced down, Bellamy had the fabric balled up in one of his hands, staying close by his side to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

project: killcode chapter 15, exploding gatorade

(5)

Bentley jumped a mile and a half when someone touched his arm, and water roared in his head, blood.

"Whoa, Bentley, what's going on?"

project: killcode chapter 16, ghosts of the past

Bentley brought a hand up to rub at Bellamy’s back without thinking -- and he was sure his life flashed before his eyes at the speed the other boy jumped, so violently that it shook their entire desk and nearly knocked him out of his chair.

project: killcode chapter 17, one after another

(6)

He quickly abandoned the first aid kit and scooted slightly closer to the couch. “Hey… what is it, kiddo?”

“I-I don’t know,” He admitted, hiding his eyes in his forearm, in the sleeve of his hoodie.

“That’s okay..."

a hundred days to become a wayne, chapter 5, a little tlc

He wiped his hands on his pants. “You can tell me, Bell.”

“I’m…” Bellamy started, hiccuping lightly, still facing away from Bentley. “I… don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“That’s okay, too,” Bentley said, stepping forward again.

project: killcode chapter 17, one after another

(7)

“I’m just… tired,” He muttered honestly, resting his chin on his knees. A wave of anxiety washed over him when he remembered that his dad did not care when he was tired and did not take excuses. “But I… um… not that tired. Really. I-I’m sorry.”

The words tumbled out in a panicked ramble before he could think better of himself. Even after he’d identified that Nightwing didn’t want him to keep apologizing — what an idiotic thing to do. Now he’d disobeyed him, on top of everything else.

“Whoa, Bentley, it’s okay. It’s perfectly fine if you want to rest. You should. You’ve had a long night,”

a hundred days to become a wayne, chapter 5, a little tlc

He focused on Bentley just momentarily, his face going red before he stared dutifully down at the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I… I was just… really tired, I won’t do it again-“

“Whoa, Bellamy, hey,” Bentley continued to rub his back lightly, leaning down to get closer to his level and internally cursing when he saw the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. “Bell, it’s okay. It’s okay. Napping is basically what free period is for. You haven’t been sleeping well — it's okay.”

project: killcode chapter 20, chloe (the hot one)

(8)

“It’s okay, kiddo. You can go to sleep,”

However, his found family wasn’t coming to an end that night. So he didn’t find it hard to obey Dick’s suggestion, letting his head find its way onto the oldest Wayne boy’s shoulder, settling into the couch as Dick’s fingers repetitively carded through his red hair.

a hundred days to become a wayne, chapter 15, ponyboy curtis

"I've probably spent more time in the last three years sleeping with someone else next to me than alone -- so I don't mind. It's actually nice."

“Oh… okay,”

A few moments of silence passed, and Bellamy settled in farther, adjusting his head against Bentleys shoulder with a quiet sigh.

project: killcode chapter 30, hypocrisy

(9)

Bentley didn’t stop running until he collided with him, nearly toppling the man over, tightening his arms around him so tight he thought he might die if he let go. “Father, she’s gonna… she’s gonna kill me.”

a hundred ways to become a wayne, chapter 8, safe with me

The moment Bellamy's gaze flicked between them, and he comprehended who it actually was, he dissolved into a bout of quiet, entire-body wracking sobs, lurching forward and grabbing around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“She-she’s gonna k-ill me,” He choked, crying so hard he started coughing. “She’s gonna- she’s gonna…”

project: killcode chapter 34, three little birds

(10)

“Don’t… don’t… please, don’t. Please… please don’t put me in there. It’s dark. Please,”

“No one is putting you anywhere, Bentley. You’re in your bed, at the Manor,”

a hundred days to become a wayne, chapter 23, bad timing

Bellamy only seemed to cry harder at the embrace, digging his head down into Bentley’s shoulder. He was trembling almost uncontrollably, holding onto Bentley in an absolute death grip that was so tight it sort of hurt. “Please don’t let them take me back, Bentley, I don’t wanna go back, please, I don’t wanna go back-“

“Hey, hey, no one’s taking you anywhere,” Bentley replied, rubbing his back.

project: killcode chapter 47, traitor

—

🥹🥹🥹

that’s all, folks! now go cry!

[king--icarus]

"Exes!Seven to O Quinn pipeline" did you mean MY MAIN INFAMOUS RUN LMAO!!! listen there are a crazy amount of parallels between an mc who dated seven and o okay and i am not normal about it; i am capitalizing the hell out of it

anyway *chinhands* tell me about your infamous oc. anything you want

CACKLES IT'S MY MAIN RUN TOO ASHJDFKASHFJ Let's capitalize on it and go be Not Normal about it together 😌🤝The parallels are SO DAMN TASTY, ough.....

Riley "Vesper" Graves is the lead singer of the alt rock band (I'm a metal & rock enjoyer LOL), Wicked Moon!

She's exes with Seven and, after moving on, considers the ball to be in Seven's court now, though she's still (reasonably) friendly towards him and wants to be in some form of professional truce if they can't be friends. (edit: she was also 100% friends his mom) She also has a secret crush on Orion Quinn, and is in the business of trying very hard not to give him a damn heart attack. (I'm going to love Seven's inner turmoil following that revelation, if I'm honest. 😌)

As of Sept 2024 (Pre-CoGDemos migration), her only highest stats are; Kind, Ambitious, Art Driven, Cautious, Professional, and Leader.

(I also have a little scene that occasionally bounces around in my head of her having a ✨mini Breakdown™✨ in front of Orion regarding *gestures vaguely at the BotB*. 😌)

[year2000electronics]

Hi there hello this ask will be incoherent but I'm so so so happy someone talks about the potential for Coomer Benrey parallels w their reactions to it being game....... I tend to focus on like, Benrey having this cosmic apathy towards the world being a game, because it doesn't really change anything so what does it really matter, while Dr Coomer is Act 3 Part 2 abt it. However your may those who resist/accept their fate art is just. HBBHGBGBVVBBFGFGTTHGGHHHHHH Benrey just ACCEPTING HIS FATE as the final boss of the video game bc it doesnt matter in the end while Dr Coomer goes OUT OF HIS WAY to beg Gordon to get them out so they don't basically end with their universe. I'M NORMAL. I'M SO FUCKING NORMAL.

AND LIKE THERE ARE MORE PARALLELS where like, Dr coomer is the ONLY character beside Benrey to use Sweet Voice, and while Benrey's voice or speech never glitch his physical form goes fucking nuts with Gmod exaggeration body horror while it's kinda the opposite with Dr Coomer where he looks and seems fairly normal while his speech patterns and talking is a glitching NIGHTMARE and and both of them kinda have a FOCUS on how they're not fully human, Benrey's obvious because [gestures vaguely] but Dr Coomer is obviously inhuman through how AI and robotic he is down to PHYSICALLY BEING A CYBORG AND. JUST. ok normal now

Uhhh idk where I'm going with this so I leave you with these screen shots and beg you to consider me normal about this I think there should be more content where they are friends I'll cry

literally. literally. i’m all pacing around in a frenzy. i want to see benrey’s reaction to it all. coomers basically going through Self Aware Puberty. reflection of the self through the other. “that’s why we can’t care” vs “that’s why we have to care”. FUCKING- IN THE FINAL LOCKER ROOM CONFRONTATION ITS BENREY VS COOMER.

COOMER GETS SNAPPED OUT OF NPC MODE BRIEFLY BY BENREY BECAUSE BIG BENREY ISNT SUPPOSED T BE THERE AND IT MAKES COOMER GO “WHAT IS THAT”. HELLO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HI!!!!!

[worldsfromhoney]

Lines of Power

Masterlist | AO3 | Medium

tw: self-harm

Prompt 2: Sweater weather

It was Caretaker’s first sleepover, and they were definitely not squealing like a child who couldn’t control their volume.

In other news, they can’t seem to stop grinning. It was the face-splitting kind of grin, which wasn’t good news for the stitches currently straining against the action. They’d just changed it the other day, too, but, eh, that was fine.

They brought a sewing kit with them so they could squeal—er, smile all they want.

“Ok, stop.”

Caretaker stopped. It was so abrupt they had the brief suspicion they’d been placed under a compulsion but no. It was just Whumpee who’d stopped and turned to face them.

“Ok,” They said, arms akimbo. “You’ve gotta stop that or I’m banishing your arse to the marshes.”

Caretaker ignored the threat and looked at them innocently. “Stop what?”

Whumpee rolled their eyes and vaguely gestured at Caretaker’s everything, which was rude and they said so. Whumpee ignored them and kept on.

“Stop giggling behind me every few minutes. It’s giving me the creeps.”

“May I remind you I’m a resurrected person turned necromancer? I’m supposed to give the creeps.”

Whumpee glared at them, and Caretaker continued grinning. With a resigned sigh, they kept on and Caretaker happily followed. They also went back to giggling.

They really couldn’t help it. After almost a decade of friendship rooted in revealed falsehoods and a shared interest in the obscure, it was the first time Whumpee invited them to their house. Their house! The actual abode they lived, worked, and, uh, made brews in?

This was embarrassing to admit, but Caretaker didn’t actually know what Whumpee did outside of their workings together. But! Wasn’t it friendship enough when they gathered materials together, looked after each other’s back, and shared notes on the best ways to poison annoying fae pests? Yes, Caretaker had thought so.

But this was another level of friendship, and they were glad to clamber to it, giggling all the while.

Whumpee’s house was a simple cottage, and Caretaker wasn’t surprised. Actually, they expected this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Whumpee asked, narrowing their eyes when Caretaker almost stepped on a mushroom.

Caretaker made a vague gesture at their everything. The parallelism didn’t escape Whumpee’s notice and Caretaker cackled as they jumped out of the way of a nasty curse which would’ve tied their tongue into a French braid. Maintaining a reasonable distance, they now had a proper look at Whumpee with the cottage in the background.

Whumpee, who always wore sweaters no matter the weather. They, who always had some sort of poisonous plant woven into their hair. They, whose first housewarming gift to Caretaker, were a seedling which only grew in graveyard dirt and preferred bone dust to water.

Caretaker made the vague gesture again.

“Just … you know?” They said, shrugging. “It’s so you that a mansion or a towering complex would’ve made me suspect a convincing doppel.”

“As if a doppel would ever fool a fool. You lot recognise each other,” Whumpee said as they rolled their eyes. With that comeback Caretaker was still fumbling a response for, Whumpee stalked off towards the cottage.

It was a cute little thing. When Caretaker entered, the ceiling was only several inches from brushing the top of their head. Anyone taller would have to stoop the entire time they stayed. Good thing it was easy to do a quick (but painful, damn) spell, adjusting their height until it was the same as Whumpee’s.

It was also a good thing Caretaker spent most of their afterlife stuck in a bolted coffin and six feet under the ground because Whumpee only had a couch to offer them. They looked at Caretaker, brow raised in a dare to complain or say anything untoward which would definitely get them banished to the marshes.

Caretaker just grinned, flopped on the couch, and had their face slapped by a plant.

The door shut, and Caretaker finally snipped off the stitches on their eyes. The sight which met them was a new one. It wasn’t as dark as the other nights they’d spent here. The clouds finally cleared and moonlight slipped into the cottage windows. By all means, Caretaker should still be sleeping now, just as the rest of the cottage was.

Except, of course, for its owner who’d been sneaking out every night since Caretaker came here.

Normally, Caretaker wouldn’t mind. Whumpee had their business just as they had theirs. They weren’t the typical witch and necromancer who gossiped about failed gargoyle animations and braided each other’s hair while doing so. Their friendship had started on Caretaker pretending (they tried, alright?) to be the necromancer who brought them back to life and not just a soul tethered to rotting parts. That said more than enough of how they went from that point on.

But, see, Whumpee had been doing this teenager-esque sneaking out for five nights now and Caretaker had never known boundaries. They were ‘born’ from breaking of one of the major ones, after all.

So with creaking limbs and avoiding the slumbering plants scattered around like landmines and alert systems, they snuck out after Whumpee.

They didn’t get lost. Oh, yes, this was definitely the first time Caretaker was in this part of the land, but they had a neat solution for that.

A tracker. They’d put a tracker sigil on their very dear friend’s favourite (only) pair of boots, and it was laughably easy to follow. If anyone else saw them, it’d be like they were on a whimsical nighttime stroll. Caretaker was this close to whistling.

They came upon a clearing, and the urge to whistle died.

Caretaker never enjoyed using that word. Ironic, considered their chosen profession, but the dislike stood all the same. Dead. Die. Died. Death. They didn’t like it.

They didn’t like what they were seeing.

Whumpee was there at centre of the clearing. Cliché, but a goodie, especially when the moon’s generous enough to give its light. Caretaker doesn’t know if they should thank or curse the celestial thing for it because they could see everything.

Whumpee wasn’t wearing a sweater. For the first time since they’ve known each other, they weren’t wearing a damned sweater and Caretaker finally found out why.

Whumpee had their head bowed. Stretched out in front of them was their bare arm. An arm full of scars. An arm the witch was methodically dealing wounds to, so deep the darkness of it seemed to repel even the moonlight.

Around them, on little flat rocks, stood purple candles (power, it was power—) crackling and dressed with what was definitely Whumpee’s blood. That had been the scent Caretaker had caught—the iron tang of blood which bound bodies to the plane like manacles. The circle wasn’t complete yet. Whumpee was still dressing more candles with that horrid, stinking thing—

Caretaker took a step, and they were there, gripping at Whumpee’s hand which was about to go for another cut, another slice, another and another and another.

Whumpee had cried out. A spell of eternal nightmare had been thrown their way and Caretaker—ate it. They didn’t need a spell to know this encounter would give him enough of that. Whumpee was naked, and they were screaming about it—let me go! Don’t look! Go away!—along with curses from all corners of the land they’ve been.

Caretaker? They sunk to their knees and wrapped their arms around Whumpee.

“Stop it!” Whumpee shrieked, struggling to get free. Caretaker didn’t move an inch. “Stop it, stop it, stop it! I don’t need your pity or lectures or morals! I know what I’m doing! I know and I’ve been doing this forever and I—”

They twist their hand and try for a stab with the athame.

They hit the mark.

Caretaker hadn’t moved to evade the attack. They watch Whumpee’s face go pale and there was a panicked movement to pull the ritual dagger out.

“No,” Caretaker says, voice heavy and deep with emotions they couldn’t handle. Not right now. “It’s okay.”

They don’t know if those two words do anything to the flurry of reasons and explanations ready to explode from Whumpee. What was okay? Leaving the dagger in them as reminder of their failure to their friend?

Caretaker didn’t know and just held their wayward friend closer.

“I … I didn’t — I didn’t mean… I don’t—!” Whumpee said, stuttering and no longer resisting the hold. “I’m not … I’m not a power-hungry nutter, alright? I’m … this is just how I am and it’s always so easier this way and damn those moralistic assholes who say otherwise, right?”

Whumpee kept going on. They kept trying to explain doing blood magic wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t addictive either, like others said and it wasn’t they enjoyed pain. They weren’t crazy and you agree with me, right?

Caretaker let out a shuddering breath and did not deign Whumpee an answer. They let their friend go on and on about being in the right and it didn’t hurt. All the while, they murmured the only healing spell they knew, hoping it would reach deeper than it should.

Oh gods, they hoped.

[v4nnyzzz]

How do you feel abt Vanny turning out to be Vanessa

hrmm ( = ⩊ = )

I appreciate you wanting to hear my opinion! it's a small gesture to most other people, but means a lot to someone like me.

y'know, i guess i never cared. my approach towards the media i enjoy is simple; i understand it as best as i can (i tend to love doing lore dives in my free time), then i take what i like and the things/characters that could use more development, and develop it myself. make my own version of it

i was certainly around to see the hype/confusion in the initial days of vanny and vanessa being possibly two different characters. i remember it pretty well. i liked the different interpretations, i still do. i like seeing vanny and vanessa designs, though i don't really care to ship characters in canon. or canon at all, honestly.

[ this is going to be a whole ramble that's longer than i epxected, so under a readmore for convenience's sake + SB:DLC spoilers ]

canon doesn't affect me much, if at all. i only refer to it to cherrypick things i like and want to use for my own interpretation. liking things for me can turn into a bit of a thought exercise bc i do my own thing, so vanny and vanessa being revealed to be the same person never bothered me >_>

however, because of the nature of fnaf's lore, i'm...not really inclined to care? fnaf's lore is convoluted and i gave up caring a long, long time ago. it's why it adds to my frustration towards how absent Vanny is as a whole, and i *really* hate that Steel Wool isn't really doing much with her. whether she's two separate characters or not, i likely would've been fine with it if only the character actually had writing. vanny doesn't.

The therapist CDs and the endings of SB (i hate them) and Vanny's small cameo in SB's DLC aren't enough to me. Not even the in-game video game parallel. Vanny just feels like a character tossed to the side in BOTH games and i find that infuriating. What does it matter whether vanny is 2 different people or 1 person? Steel Wool is doing nothing with it, neither is Scott.

When it comes to Vanny, I always get angry when I remember how little SW and Scott seem to be doing with her. I'm not the biggest FNaF fan who knows a lot of lore or something, but it still infuriates me that she was initially set up as this one big part of SB then gets cut out. Then having like 3 seconds of an appearance in the DLC which is as cryptic as anything else but ultimately amounts to nothing.

I don't feel anything about Vanny turning out to be the same person, because I'm not invested in canon Vanny. I'm invested in my own version of Vanny, and when it concerns designs, the fandom's as well. Scott and SW has done nothing about Vanny to incentivize me to give a single shit about her canon personality and self (that's confirmed, not hinted at). In my humble opinion, she HAS no personality and self. She's just there for the fuck of it and might as well have not been added at all if they are actively choosing to do nothing with her. You get what I'm sayin'?

Such an interesting character and premise that they could explore psychologically and even socially, and in the end nothing was done with her.

It's not like I care enough about FNaF to rewrite its entire plot (I do not care about other characters beyond appearance; and even then I only like some animatronics) or even have an AU or anything. I just like crazy fursuit lady. That's it.

Right shame I happen to like a character that has nothing to her name besides some hints and theories and some confirmed facts that barely mean anything compared to other characters in the same series.

I would've enjoyed an exploration of Vanny within canon of her mental state and her origins. With how vague they are about her, it could've gone any one way and I might've enjoyed it - though maybe not if they decided to go with the shallow fangirl route (something akin to Nina the Killer). Personally, I would've liked something to chew on, something that encourages you to dig deeper into her personality and reasons for doing what she does.

But that idea is going into fan interpretation territory, and treading close to my own ideas of what I would've wanted Vanny to be, and therefore not relevant to this thought vomit. So I'll end it there.

Anyway, if you (or anybody else actually) got it this far, have Evan giving you a thumbs up. Have a good day :3