#Tw claustrophobia

[vveirdnobdy]

Cale having Claustrophobia living in my head rent free rn. It’s something that I’m like in my heart of hearts it must be a thing. But I never see it talked about in fanfiction and I’m rotting cause I personally feel like this should be more of a thing.

You can’t tell me those three days didn’t effect him at all man

[sorcerous-caress]

A beautiful webbing | Minthara

[Smut, fluff, angst, oviposition, claustrophobia, aphrodisiac, egg insertion, Drider Minthara, spiders, blood and graphic descriptions, happy end, marriage, nb!Reader]

did you hear about the person who married a drider?

The cave was bigger than any you've ever seen. Stone walls isolating a huge area of the underdark, illuminated by various plants in all shapes and sizes, from the smallest mushroom pulsing with a neon like yellow, to the biggest of trees. 

The tree definitely caught your interest, its branches curled around the entirety of the cave's dome, bright silver wood hugging the cold dark stones. Various blooms in all shades of blue were scattered alongside the branches.

A haziness filled the air, specks of blue dust floating and glittering as they left their mother tree. 

A sussur tree.

You took a cautious step forward, knowing that you forsake using all magic the closer you got to the cave's entrance. Whether it was your own birthright, a one earned with hard work and studies, or even a one granted from a more powerful being. It was all seeped from your entire being.

Even your equipment wasn't spared, all the enchanted swords and flaming shields became nothing by pieces of metal upon arrival. Magical scrolls becoming akin to overpriced napkins, at least those had a use in here.

The cave entrance was deliberately put front and center, as if taunting you and challenging all those who passed by.

No amount of skulls and scattered bones throughout the gardens of the cave would've done the numbers justice, the waves after waves of so called heros that came as a bitter home welcoming gift were well above the hundred of thousands.

Yet the scattered skulls barely surpassed the hundreds. Maybe they were buried deep just when the sussur tree took roots.

The day Minthara Baerne got called into a test of Lolth was the day the underdark held its breath in suspension.

One of the most promising princesses in line for the leadership of the oldest known noble house in all of drow history. Even petty drow fights seized for a single day as all eyes were directed towards her impending fate.

Yet no one knew what the test was about, was her loyalty called into question? Or was it a promotion from Lolth. Just what did the spider queen promise her.

If anything, the Baerne house accepted it as a blessing. They've always prided themselves on their loyalty and faithfulness, even their high wizard has passed several loyalty tests.

Instead of entering the cave just yet, you decide to stroll through its surrounding gardens. Appreciating every flower that blossomed through the butterfly effect of the great fall of a princess. 

The disgraced princess is what they called her now. Even at her worst, many still held great fear of her in their hearts, not daring to drop her honorific title that's her birthright.

The deeper you walked through the gardens, the more evidence of the calamity you could find. Piles upon piles of aged skeletons and bones being weaved through each vine of plants.

It was eerie how all the bones were still attached together, as if their bodies were left there for the plants to feast on until nothing but a skeleton remained.

Some of them had their arms wrapped against the thorn filled vines, as if struggling to free themselves from its clutches to no avail.

You kept walking, something called for you, at the opposite end of the entrance. 

Minthara's test was considered one of the largest gatherings of the noble houses. At the temple of lolth inside a massive hall, the Baerne matron sat in the front row, Minthara's father, a consort, had the right to sit next to her.

Lower priestesses of Lolth were waiting in front of the curtains that veiled where the test was taking place. Their higher sisters were inside, determining the fate of Minthara.

Her own sisters, both from full blood and half blood, were whispering amongst themselves about her possible fates. 

The youngest of them, still unaware of drow customs, suggested the idea of her failing and being turned into a drider. She was immediately hushed and berated by the other sisters as they feared her words might reach one of the priestesses, or worse the Matron herself.

This wasn't the first or last test the Baerne house goes through, countless of their males were brought into their knees in front of the spider queen herself.

Yet maybe, because it's a woman this time, its implications have put everyone on edge.

You were almost at the end of the garden, a sour smell of rot and decay suddenly invaded your senses. 

Visible plant roots withered the further in you went, the dirt on the ground stained bright red, it was more akin to mud than dirt. Your steps squelching through the gore and viscera.

While the sussur vines extended far beyond this spot, not a single stray leaf could make its way to the heart of this place. A small bubble where magic could thrive freely.

Devoid of any plants or life, only the remains of countless battles stacked against each other, pulling themselves down by the combined weight of their flesh.

Something called for you, it was getting stronger. You had to endure the pungent odour of death and decay.

In a small puddle of blood that has a sheer layer of magic reflecting off of its surface, a dark green mix of leaves intertwined in symmetry of needle sharp thorns. The bush seemed to thrive in this garden of blood.

A single rose could be seen deep inside the bush, caged by thorn covered steams. It demands a sacrifice of flesh to pluck the flower.

A common bloodrose, despite the name it was anything but common, two thirds of the population could live through ten centuries and never encounter one.

Not to mention how it managed to blossom while caged by a sussur tree, the very polar opposite of its existence. The nature of a blood rose could only thrive on an endless source of blood, agony and most importantly magic. 

Magic was the only thing that could protect its fragile petals that are overly sensitive to any temperature changes, magic encased it from the second it was a mere budding rosette.

A sussur bloom and a bloodrose co-existing in the same garden. A miracle in front of your own eyes.

The flower is thirsty, you realise, it's calling for you to feed her. 

You reach your hand towards the caged rose, the tip of your finger gets pricked against one of the sharp needles, a single drop of blood escapes from your body before your blood cells start clotting the small cut.

It's so small, you have to gently shake your hand to get the droplet to fall.

It gets caught on the edge of a petal, the flower visibly blooms more as it drinks in your blood. 

You look down and see spikey tendrils retract their hold around your ankles, you weren't even aware of it when they wrapped themselves around you.

The voice in your head vanishes, you're free to move again.

As you hurry and retreat back into the lush mushroom filled gardens, the only remaining evidence of what felt like a fever dream are the trail of blood your boots leave behind on the moss covered dirt.

You make your way back to the entrance, walking alongside the cave walls.

The news of the Baerne family scandal reached even the surface, high elves were openly discussing it amongst themselves in official councils, for a week each page printed out haf in some capacity information about the princess turned drider.

Many people wondered what the matron's face must have been like, when the one that emerged from behind the curtains was a monster instead of her beloved daughter.

Was her father killed? What of her sisters?

Part of the reason the scandal was so widespread, is the sinister intentions of the other drow nobles who celebrated this stain on Lolth's favourite house, her golden children.

Yet the scholars weren't interested in the family gossip as they described it. No, they were more interested in how Minthara, a drider, managed to survive when faced with a hall filled with various drow nobles.

In normal circumstances they exile them, but this was anything but normal circumstances.

To kill her right then and there would've been the honourable thing to do, in drow's culture at least. The Matron could've easily killed her and disowned her from the Baerne house.

Some suspected love, most human scholars argued that a mother's love extended further than the worship of a goddess could.

Others sneered at the idea, especially the surface elves, how could a drow love one another? They don't even know the meaning of that word.

But maybe, it was one scholar whose theory was the closest to the truth, a half-elf. Her suggestion was that Minthara actually passed the test, which is why she wasn't killed.

Her theory was torn to shreds and made fun of endlessly after she published it.

You're back where you started, at the entrance of the cave.

Everything looks the same, as if time is a mere illusion in these gardens. The same flowery scented air welcomes you back, silver and blue particles flowing through your legs and inhaling any traces of magic it could find.

Reaching into your backpack, you take out an unlit torch. The all consuming darkness inside the cave wasn't any normal darkness you've seen before.

Igniting the flame, you head into the abyss.

The simple torch light doesn't even reach the walls or ceiling of the cave, it's massive size scattering whatever light your flame produces. 

Step after step, you watched the floor carefully. Mostly because it was the only surface reflecting your light, but also in case of any webs you might stumble onto.

Each drider's web was personalised for their own use, harming anyone else but their own maker. A thin almost invisible line of silk was stretched impossibly thin and tensed to connect all the webs together, the slightest touch could send a growing vibrating alarm through the entirety of the cave system.

So you diligently watched your steps, it only took one lucky stray string of silk for your doom. 

Even if you somehow managed to break free, the invisible coating of venom on them would've spelled your unavoidable death.

Through the humid air, you could still see the silvery particles flowing. Although their quantity thinned more and more the deeper you went into the cave.

Back at the entrance you couldn't even make out what the walls or ceiling looked like, but now, after you've gone through several branching pathways, the cave closed in around you.

It still wasn't anything but big by any means, much larger than a mere bear cave. But it was more comprehensively big instead of the unrealistic massive size it held at the start.

At least that was the illusion that these pathways gave you.

There wasn't a sign of life, no animals, no insects, not even a single fly. Just the silence and soft echo of your steps.

Wasn't it for the various spider webs, woven every so skillfully at every corner and turn, then you would've doubted a drider resided here.

You haven't seen her yet, haven't heard a single sound or a hint of spider legs scuttering. 

Maybe she was out hunting? Maybe you got lucky and found her when she was resting?

Your flame was dying out, even if you turned back now, it won't be enough to get you back out and you'll end up lost in the darkness as you tried to navigate your way out of this maze-like cave.

There was no option but to keep going.

It was only a matter of time before the Baerne family scandal was overshadowed by some other scandal, some human wizard's attempt to ascend to divinity or something. It seemed like there's always one of them per century and they always fail, yet the public eats it up each time.

The history book you've read didn't mention what happened to him, instead jumping ahead to the other documented major news of the past century.

You didn't care much honestly, you were too preoccupied in your search for the spider princess tale origins, and that archive book was enough evidence to empower you through this tedious journey in the underdark.

History long forgotten, the Baerne family recovered and is still ruling the underdark. Sometimes something is too big to fail.

You've researched her for months, getting your hand on each and every documented work about Minthara. Even buying the overpriced drow books and papers that came out around the scandal.

With all the endless questions and theories everyone wrote about her, not a single soul mentioned the first thing that went through your mind after hearing her tale.

How lonely it must have been for her.

Drider are known for their unstable mental health, yet madness wasn't something that Lolth handed to them alongside the eight legs.

No, the madness was acquired after years of isolation, exile blurring their sense around the passing of time. One day you're surrounded by your family and loved ones, the next you're deemed a monster unfit to share society with the rest of us.

Chased out by the threat of violence, your own reflection and body altered beyond recognition at times. How cruel of a fate Lolth gifted her children.

No more walking, no more music, no more fun. You and the fate of silence for the rest of your life. 

It would drive anyway crazy, yet people had the nerve to describe driders as people with a death wish. As if it wasn't the fault of the people pointing their fingers and casting their judgement.

Fear keeps us safe, fear keeps us sane.

Driders lacked all known types of fear, much like their own sanity withered inside their brain.

Your torch went out.

Flame extinguished, darkness draped over you.

All consuming, ever cold and numbing darkness. Your brain attempts to make sense of your sudden lack of vision, swirling various shapes into the pitch black surroundings, only for them to evaporate like smoke.

Faces of loved ones, monsters and even promises of an exit. Drawn in illusions as your primal mind tried to lead your path.

You knew deep down that nothing lurked in the darkness, you've been in this cave for what felt like hours by now. You would've seen something.

It wasn't possible not to run into her by now, even a normal sized drider would've crossed your path once or twice. And she was 5 times the size of a normal drider from what you've read, why else would she claim a cave this huge as her own.

With your hand stretched to take hold of the wall, you decided to keep moving forward through the darkness. Eventually you're fated to reach some kind of end right?

Whether it be a dead end or a cave end, is up to the fates to decide.

You kept walking as time lost its meaning, even when the sound of your footsteps disappeared. A soft padding covering the floor that completely masked your steps, you couldn't see what it was in the dark.

Madness knocked on the windows of your brain, paranoia seeping through the cracked glass.

You wanted to speak, to scream, do anything just to make any sound to hear yourself. To hear any sound.

You couldn't hear your own heartbeat, alarms were going off inside your head.

Were you dead? Did that plant hold some kind of poison in its spikes and now you've stupidly signed your own death certificate.

Taking a deep breath, you feel the air rushing through your lungs, you feel the rise and fall of your chest but you still can't hear a single thing.

Stopping in your tracks, your spiral of insanity came to a halt as you spotted a vague dim light in the vast darkness.

Was your brain playing tricks on you again? 

You let go of the wall, desperately running towards the light, breath heavy and sweating and legs sore. You pushed your body as you reached towards the light.

It grew stronger, larger. The faint glow multiplied as another and another joined it the closer you got.

You could see your own hands again, the colour of your skin. Your own healthy and very much alive flesh.

It wasn't an illusion, but a very real glow. 

A cluster of bioluminescent plants attached to the upper parts of the walls and covering the ceiling, extending into a large opening leading to a big room filled with them.

There were scattered like stars hanging up in the sky, each one is of different colours and shapes. A glistening translucent web connected them together, a faint holographic sheer shining through the web in a quiet dance of rainbow lights.

Faerie lights, the silk was enchantment with faerie light.

This room was at the furthest end of the cave, at the heart where that bloodrose laid no doubt. How else could magic survive here unless it was part of the same bubble the bloodrose thrived under.

It was vastly different from the other parts of the maze-like cave you've seen so far. The air was warmer, drier with no humidity. The walls were devoid of any sharp edges, if anything they shined like marbles instead of stone.

The soft dancing faerie lights give a colourful glow to the room. It was trimmed and carved into perfection, this room was the true heart of the cave. 

Stepping fully inside, the lights reflected off of your eyes, you were almost in awe at the beauty of this place. Exploring the left side of the room, you were met with a makeshift bed, made with various soft cloths and feather filled pillows. To your surprise, the bed was more on the normal size, quite big yes but nothing beyond what most nobles had at their homes.

A lyre sat on the table next to the bed, its strings matching the ones hanging above on the ceiling.

Exploring the right side, you found…hay? Not just hay but a large cluster of various soft materials like cotton and wool, connected together in a circle of silk.

Just like any other heart, this cave's heart was brimming with life. 

Dread filled your heart as you realised the true purpose of this room, it's a nursery.

That cluster on the left, you could see various eggs through the translucent parts of the silk.

You were at the nest of the drider princess.

Uninvited.

Yes you wanted to meet her but not like this, not an armed stranger intruding on her cluster of eggs.

Taking a step back from the fragile nest, something stinky caught your boots and you fell back against the padded flooring.

Your thud barely made a noise at all, you haven't really acknowledged the strange floor until now.

Looking down, you were met with extremely thick webs, covering the entire floor. Padding the stones with layer after layer of silk that trailed even outside of the room.

The webs you've spent so much effort avoiding, you were walking on a carpet of them all this time since your torch went out.

Terror echoed through your bones, a sense of impending doom. Minthara had been aware of you all this time

You were sure no one was around you, you swore never saw her. Where could she have been hiding?

Something cold dripped onto your head. 

Your limbs were shaking, your fight or flight instincts screaming at you.

Lifting your head, colour drained from your face as you looked up at the ceiling.

Red eyes met yours.

Long silver hair dangling from her head, crimson eyes marking you as her prey. Another set of eyes were further apart on her forehead, slightly smaller in size.

The upper body of the drow, a lean muscular build, clothed in armour that stopped just before her lower spider abdomen.

The sheer massive size of it was difficult for your brain to comprehend, it was abysmally larger than any other drider. A giant spider abdomen of pure blackness that acted as a huge dark mirror behind her figure. Eight legs sprawled from it, each one extremely long and thin. Sharp knife-like edges and jagged saw-like insides.

A single leg went from her abdomen, at the center of the vast ceiling, and trailed down the walls until its end buried under the thick layer of webs on the floor.

Like a bird cage trapping you in place, a gradient of abyssal black that faded into a rich imperial purple. 

Various gems and gold circlets decorated each leg, rubies and amethysts being the main theme. Much like the armour she wore, it had the clear holy markings of a high paladin of Lolth. Its carvings giving the illusion of wrapping around her figure and hugging it so deliciously, when in reality it no doubt had multiple thick layers of padding and metal for a proper battle attire.

"You've finally used your common sense, p'luvt." Her voice wasn't quiet like the other drows you've met so far, in fact it was full of confidence.

Crawling her body from the ceiling, she came down from the right side of the room as she shielded her nest with her large spider frame.

She wasn't immediately lunging at you, which was a win in your book. You half expected your head to be bitten off the second you attempted to look up.

"I don't mean any harm, I promise." Dropping your backpack and weapons, you made a point to stay on the floor to not give her any false ideas.

"Harm? You think a pathetic thing like you could even harm me?" Her raspy voice held a hint of amusement, as if the idea of you being a danger to her was the joke of the century.

Minthara only needed to learn her body forward to completely tower over you, "If I had wanted you dead, I would have let the poison take you out." She leaned even closer, her face directly above yours.

You didn't move as she cupped your face with her hand, satisfied with the feeling of your skin against her sharp fingers. 

Touching the back of your own head, you were surprised to be met with wetness, a sticky purple fluid. "Is that the poison?"

"No." Her thumb parted your lips, the same purplish liquid bubbled at the tip of her fang before dropping into your mouth. "That's the antidote, the walls had the venom."

Minthara seemed pleased with your obedience as you swallowed without the need for coaxing, her lips glistened with a sheer transparent layer as she pressed them against yours.

The kiss stung your lips, the feeling of an itchiness seeping into your flesh as she pushed her tongue in your mouth.

"That's a small dosage of the poison."

You let her carry you, never resisting as she wrapped her front tendrils around you.

She laid you on the bed, giving you one short kiss after another.

"Your scent is irresistible." She inhaled against your neck, "become part of something greater than your mortal life could ever achieve, become mine."

Wrapping your arms around her, the flame of desire ignited deep below your stomach as you considered her offer, becoming her mate.

You nodded, chasing after each kiss with greediness.

"Use your words." She pulled away, "swariy biu hithern d'ilr ulu uns'aa"

You considered your journey, the months of research, the length you've went to just to find her cave, the madness you've brush against back in the darkness.

Her fangs grazed your ears, "vow my ownership over you." Pulling away, her eyes held a hint of vulnerability in them as she looked at you.

Brushing a side of her soft silvery locks behind her pointy ears, you held her battle worn face so tenderly. "I vow to always belong to you." 

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips onto hers. A soft gentle kiss to seal your oath with.

Minthara took your clothes off, with each newly revealed patch of skin she'd plant a kiss on. Her hands holding your body and positioning it however she pleased on the bed. Your own arousal growing the more her kisses trailed down and down.

"Ussta 'chev" she'd whispered as spread your legs, hooking your thighs above her shoulder, face to face with your most intimate parts.

Her gaze filled with hunger, the taste of your flesh still fresh on her tongue. Leaning forward, her tongue gave a testing swipe against your heat, beforehand her whole mouth started devouring you.

The pleasure was worth the pain, the rush of heat clouding your brain and making you melt. Grinding back and pushing against her mouth with desperation, all shame left you at the feeling of her hot wet tongue.

Your fists held on to the bedding below you, pulling on it the more intense the feeling got, you were quickly stumbling towards the edge embarrassingly fast. She kept her hold on your thighs, going even deeper and deeper.

Making a moaning mess out of you, obscene screams of pleasure echoing through the cave. Her fingers joined soon and collected your wetness on them, trailing down onto your hole as they push against the opening.

That pushes you over the edge, the pressing of her fingertip inside you makes your muscles tense in a rippling orgasm. She lets you ride it out against her mouth, swallowing down all of your juicies and cum.

You taste yourself on her lips as she leans forward to give you a kiss, letting you catch your breath.

Hearing a subtle sound at back her throat, akin to a spider purring. "You were made for this" covered in your own cum, her finger push inside you, opening you up as she adds another.

She watches you with keen eyes as she pushes and prodes your inside, watches your teeth biting into your wet lips, your naked body helpless on her bed.

"Take it." Minthara adds a third finger when she's sure you're ready, "take all of me, let me have all of you." It's so deep, brushing the walls of your insides and reigniting the arousal between your legs.

You see two of her spider legs moving in the back of the room, you can't focus much on them before being guided back to looking at her eyes as you twitch and squeeze around her fingers. 

You're stretched slowly and deliberately, hole wet and hungry around her fingers. By the end of it, four of them can easily slide in and out of you.

Minthara helps your second orgasm by going back down on you, her mouth forcing your twitching body and milking it out of cum. Her fingers never stop prodding you as you shake and shiver from the intensity.

You've came twice already and she is still fully dressed in her suit of armour, holy symbols now soaked in your cum.

Pulling her fingers out, she leans away, looking at you with pride. "You handled this better than I thought you would, you're strong enough to bear my children."

Only then do you notice the three eggs she was craddling with one of her back legs, bringing them closer to you and setting them on the bed.

They were bigger than normal eggs, two almost the size of your fist. You could only fit a single one in your palm as you held it with a worried look.

"Does the size intimidate you?" Minthara encloses the hand carrying the egg with her own, her other hand rubbing the lower part of your stomach, "it will fit, i will make sure of it."

Giving your forehead a final kiss, she moved you with ease to lay on your stomach instead. Spreading your thighs and exposing your leaking hole to her, she insepcts her handwork with two fingers.

You grab into the pillow, burying your head into it as you feel a hard cold shell pressing against your entrance.

"This is your true purpose. Embrace it." She slowly pushes the egg in, her voice laced with lust as she watches it disappear inside you, "embrace having my children inside you, it's my right to breed you."

The egg stretches you out, completely different than her fingers. You feel impossibly filled as your hole keeps helplessly twitching against it, making the egg only go deeper and deeper.

You hear Minthara moan from behind you, the sight of your needy hole making her lose her senses.

Then the stinging feeling of a bite against your thigh, soft flesh marked with her fangs. Something flows into your body.

A feeling of lightness envelopes you, all the pain disappears and is replaced by a comfortable feeling of being filled to the brim, like it's what you're meant to be.

If anything…you still feel empty, heat quickly spreads through your body as you whine against the pillow. More. You need more of her inside you.

"Please…" your voice sounds desperate and strange to your own ears, "Minthara, it's not enough." 

Her fingers go inside you to push the egg deeper, an electrifying pleasure shoots through your spine and makes you arch your back. It's almost as intense as your previous orgasm, the pleasure is melting your brain.

The more she moves the egg inside you the more you leak into her bed, grinding against the mattress cover in an attemp for relief. All the nerves in your body had their sensitivity turned up and everything feels impossibly good as her venom travels through your bloodstream.

Was it even venom that she bit into you? It feels completely different.

You're beginning for the second egg, whining and crying at the deep urge inside you to be a good mate for her, to please and appease your mistress.

Minthara looks at you with love, proud of you for knowing your place, for learning how to properly address her so soon.

She grants you another egg, pushing it slowly inside as you thank her breathlessly. 

It slots snugly against its sister, filling you even more as your brain chirps with happiness at the feeling, the sense of purpose this gives you. You feel Minthara's lips against the back of your neck, whispering how good you're being, what an obedient spouse you are to your wife. 

The third orgasm hits you out of nowhere, you didn't even realise it until you were squeezing your thighs together and pushing the eggs against each other. Staining her bed with your cum and making an even more pathetic display of yourself.

She seems ever so pleased.

The same clickly purring sounding again as she teases your overstimulated areas, enjoying your squirming and shaking. Your brain barely able to take in all the pleasure she's showering you with.

The final egg is left. 

Minthara helps you sit back on the bed, her strong arms holding you up as you lean into her embrace, legs kneeling on the soft matteress with your tears stained face buried into her neck.

Running her hand softly down your back, she lets you cling to her for comfort as you adjust to the new position. Knowing how overwhelming this can be for you to take in, how fragile mortals tend to be.

The air of the room is still comfortably warm, the dancing lights ease your mind as the soft atmosphere helps you catch your breath. You feel safe.

The outside world completely forgotten and ignored "this is your true home" Minthara whispers, "this is your nest, this is where you should be."

And this egg, should be inside you.

After she made no move to press it against your entrance, simply holding it in her arm. You realise what she wants you to do.

You cling to her more, she kisses your ear. 

Leaning forward, you stay kneeling as you spread yourself with one hand, carrying the egg in the other.

Minthara watches you with a smile.

Gravity made the other two eggs press against your hole, attempting to force themselves out. You have to push your fingers inside to get them deeper, push them up until they slot in place, until they're perfectly held by your tight insides. 

Until they're pressing against where your intimate parts are, keeping you stuck in an endless cycle of pleasure.

That one spot inside you, abusing it and harshly rubbing it with every breath you take. Yet no pain or discomfort could be felt, only pleasure in it's purest forms, a mind numbing pleasure.

Your fingers go out with a pop sound, your own wetness traveling down your thighs. Minthara keeps her hold on you firm, keeping you sitting up in place.

Pushing the egg inside you, the familiar delicious stretch follows up soon. You don't think you can even close your legs fully anymore, forced to keep them open and spread so the eggs remain inside you.

When it's halfway through, is when your poor abused hole is stretched to its limits, opened fully spread so wide. Your fingers keep pushing it inside as your hole encloses around the egg, swallowing it too.

Minthara holds your hands, keeping you in the same position as you squirm while the eggs move to adjust to the new addition inside you. You can barely focus on her lips or kiss as a fourth orgasm comes crashing down on your, your vision blurring fully for a second while your brain melts.

You fall into her, she catches you. Hugging you into her body, rubbing your sore thighs where she left several grip marks.

Darkness surrounds you, exhaustion winning.

-

When you wake up, you're cradled against her chest, no armour to cover her soft flesh. The scent of lavender envelopes you as you realise all the grime and sweat has been wiped off of your body, you're completely clean and fresh.

Minthara is the same, the bed has new sheets and there is a soft melody in the air. The gentle strumming of the Lyre she held in her hands.

You're lulled back into another slumber, burying your face against her soft breasts.

-

Time passes, how much? You're not sure. You've kept track of the first few months but after the 7th, everything started becoming a blurr.

This room became your whole world, the only thing you cared for. Even when Minthara brought you back some newspapers from one of her haunts, you just used it as feed for the fire to warm you up.

The two of you fell into a complex dynamic of fragile balance. It was the most consuming and possessive kind of love you've ever felt from someone. 

She truly wanted you for her own, you very own soul even. And in return she took care of all of your needs, keeping you safe and protected as you kept her eggs safe and warm inside you.

Speaking of which, she'd replace them daily. On some days you'd carry up to 6 different eggs, on others she merely tasked you with warming one. It depended on how much moving she planned for you that day.

You've explored the rest of the cave with her, hugging her upper body from behind as belt of silk kept you safely secured to her while she showed you the various turns of the cave. Occasionally taking you to the gardens outside.

There were many intruders on most days, yet she dealed with them swiftly as their bodies were quickly disposed on into the blood garden. 

Her territory expanded after you became a part of her family, your safety was her main concern and she realised it's better to gather a good amount of soliders under her command to guard the outside territories. 

They were drows, from what she's told you, used to be drows just like her, but turned into driders. Working with them irritated her because of how unstable they tend to be, yet something about her massive sheer size made them kneel in admiration and obey her, even when she would've prefered them cowering in fear.

Yet sometimes a gaggle of paladins would slip by, Lathander's or Corellon's or any of those so called good deities that thought it was their duty to purge all evil from the world.

Minthara wasn't impressed by any of them, if the cave didn't kill, then she'd take advantage of the protection the sussur tree offers her and strike them when they're defenseless without their precious magic.

You had plenty of books and gems to waste your time with, practising on the lyre whenever Minthara was too preoccupied to retreat back to her nest.

The bond you two shared, she's described as alurlssrin, the highest form of love a drow can give to another person.

You held her tightly each night, kissed her gently the more of her vulnerability she'd reveal to you after shedding her cold exterior. Becoming her strength when she needed someone to lean on.

One curious night, as the two of you held each other in her bed, you couldn't help but wonder out loud why she still wore the armour of Lolth after all she has done to her.

"My oath still stands" she replied, "Lolth's cruelty can take many forms, this is merely one of them." 

She revealed to you what happened that night, at the test. Telling you about all the brutal trails she was put under, all the humiliation she had to endure.

"I prevailed, much to Lolth's displeasure, deep in my heart, i knew she wished for my failure." Minthara explained, "as a reward, i was bestowed with this so called gift" Minthara sneered, words like venom from her lips.

"It must have been lonely, to live like this for so long" your opinions didn't change, ever since the moment you stepped into the cave, you were still the same exact person.

"It was." She held your hand in hers, kissing your fingers. "But now, I have you. What a great distraction you are." 

-

After a while, the eggs were ready to hatch. As much as Minthara tried to always keep a stoic face, the excitement in her voice was unmistakable.

She wanted the both of you to witness it, all the eggs were put in their original cluster of silk and wool. A warm hearth like fire under them, completely harmless to the touch, born from the purest of magic.

Despite the strange feeling of emptiness inside you, having gotten used to carrying at least one of the eggs each day for months, you still felt great pride and a sense of achievement at seeing them all healthy and ready to hatch.

"They will be normal spiders", Minthara explained, "Lolth prohibits all driders from reproducing."

"I know you find spiders adorable" you teased her, "how come each time one gets lost in your territory, they are let go with a slap on the wrist?"

"Well they're clearly more respectful than intruders who claim they got lost, spiders are simply superior." 

She was smiling, a genuine smile, the wrinkles on her face giving her a soft glow as she admired you, the person she loves most in this world.

Her lips looked inviting, she leaned in closer to you.

But before your lips could meet each other, one of the eggs started shaking, stealing her attention away. 

There was genuine awe in her eyes as she watched the egg, it was her first ever batch of eggs. The first of several to come, as she promised you.

The two of you held your breath when a crack formed through the inner layer of the egg and travelled to the outsider, two fuzzy thin legs emerging from the silk cocoon, moving around as if cutely waving.

"This one is strong, I can feel it." Minthara whispered, holding your hand tightly. You could imagine her cheering for the spider inside.

Another crack though the egg, from the opposite side, another pair of fuzzy legs breaking through. 

After the head managed to break the top of the egg, the most adorable shiny dots for eyes looked in your direction, for a second it looked like the spider was wearing the egg like armour

A laugh escaped you at the uncanny resemblance they had to their mother, god they really are Minthara's children huh.

Blinking your tears of joy away, one second the spider was moving, the next a harsh crack could be heard as the spider laid limb.

An arrow, shot right at the egg from behind you and Minthara.

Your world stopped moving.

The clunking of heavy armour and swords being drawn could be heard, the stretching of a bow string as another arrow was being prepared.

It never got to leave the bow. Minthara was faster than all of them, bigger and stronger than all of them.

But this newborn spider wasn't.

You cradled it in your palm, the shell of the egg falling away to reveal the baby spider inside.

Yells sounded from behind you, flesh tearing and the agonised screams that suddenly got quiet as metal was ripped so shred. Whole bodies torn apart limb from limb like paper.

Minthara's rage didn't quell, not even after each of them laid dead and dismembered. Not even as she shoved their own arrows down their throats and into their lungs.

The spider wasn't bigger than your thumb, you didn't know what to do as you stared at it. 

One of the swords slid down next to you, covered in their blood, its surface so shiny it was akin to a mirror as you stared at your own eyes on it.

A voice called out to you.

A life for a life, blood for blood.

Pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of the sword, it didn't take much pressure for it to get pricked. 

A single drop of blood trailed down your finger, it wasn't bigger than your thumb, you knew what to do.

You gently let it drop over the baby spider, the blood seeped into its body.

Minthara went to dispose of their bodies, scuttering quickly on the ceiling as she made her way to the end of the garden.

You couldn't take your eyes off of the spider, waiting for it to open its own eyes.

The most adorable shiny black dots for eyes met yours

Breathing a sigh of relief, you felt the little bug wash itself with your one drop of blood, slowly regaining its strength.

"Look" you said when Minthara came back, sitting next to you, "safe and healthy, it's really strong like you said."

She gently took the spider in her hand, seeing the small thing crawl around her fingers. There was a look of sadness on her face, a frown to her lips.

"I have failed you" she didn't meet your gaze, "I swore to protect you, and i have let these insects crawl freely into my house, our home."

Your hand enclosed on top of hers, "you were caught off gaurd, it's not your fault."

"No." Her brows furrowed, "I am never off gaurd. I have prepared for this day, i have tested all the webs myself."

The spider curiously went to explore the rest of the room, jumping from Minthara's hand onto the webbed grounds.

She pulled you closer to her, "I couldn't hear them in, I couldn't see them."

She was feeling weak, you knew how much she hated that feeling. For someone to best her.

"What about the sussur tree, Shouldn't it have stopped them?" You rubbed her back with your free arm, feeling one of her spider legs wrap around you.

"....I thought so too. But their magic, it was unnatural, not like anything I have seen before." 

She swallowed as she continued, "the crests on their armours, the magic books they carried, it held symbols of a god I could not recognise."

"Doesn't Mystra control all magic?" You were growing more confused by the recent events

"Apparently, not anymore." 

Your conversation was cut short as another egg began hatching. This time, Minthara blocked the room entrance with her spider abdomen to not take anymore chances. 

The rest of the batch hatched safely to your joined relief, everything went well and you had a cluster of fuzzy small spiders running around and playing with the fearie lights enchanted silk robes.

Minthara stood up, offering her arm to you as unspoken request to let her carry you. You gladly accepted.

Taking you into her arm, she moved the both of you to the other side of the room. Placing you on the bed with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I have something that I want to show you." One of her spider legs dug through a silk cocoon buried until the webbed flooring, bringing it up and placing it into your hand.

It was different, the silk was finer and more shiny than her normal silk. The cocoon was also wooven with great care. An embroidered symbol of a flower on the outside.

"A secret egg?" You weren't sure if you wanted to ruin the beautiful embroidery of silk.

Minthara shook her head, "open it. It's for you."

Gently prying open the cocoon, something shined below in the hollow insides. Two red petals were rolled up, each one holding a golden ring with a bright clear diamond on top.

Your heart fluttered, stilling your body as your processed the two rings in front of you.

Minthara was looking at you, gauging your reaction. Her red eyes not veiling the love and vulnerability they held in them.

"Ussta 'chev" her lips trembled as she said those words, despite whispering then a thousand times over like prayers against your heated skin in endless nights of passion. My beloved.

Drows Do Not Marry. You remember reading about it over and over in a million different books, drows do not marry but only take consorts.

Yet the rings in front of you told a completely different story.

She asks for your hand.

"You're mine just as I am yours."

You give your hand to her

"And if you leave me, rest assured it would kill me."

She traces her fingers on top of yours, kissing your hand

"Take me as your wife, forever."

Minthara places the ring on your finger, admiring the jewel shining against your skin.

Putting on the other ring herself.

You intertwine your fingers, holding her hand against yours.

The happiness that goes through your body is unmatched, it's most joy you have ever felt.

Minthara gently cups your cheek, wiping your tears away. 

The taste of her venom has grown sweet and familiar by now, it tasted like home.

You lean over to give her a kiss.

[lunar-lumi]

so fucking conflicted about oceangate. one one hand, yeah, that was such an incredibly stupid thing to do. why would you spend a fucking insane amount of money to get in an iron-lung-esque death trap controlled by a repurposed video game controller to visit a gravesite where so many people, the poorest of them especially, horrifically died? the things that billionaires do. the whole situation just seems surreal to me.

but also, what a horrible way to die. stuck in a cramped tin can, suffocating, lost in the depths of the ocean. one of the passengers is allegedly only a teenager. no matter how stupid and hubristic those billionaires were, no one deserves to suffer through or die from such a horrific event.

important addition: the oceangate disappearance has gotten way more news coverage and attention than the greek migrant mass drowning. 700 migrants or more from syria, egypt, and pakistan were on that ship. the greek coast guard did nothing when the ship sank under their watch. the people aboard that ship are much more deserving of our sympathy. i hope everyone who died can rest in peace. i hope their loved ones can get the support and care they need. i hope all survivors recover physically and emotionally.

i urge you to read more about it yourself. here’s an article.

[clu-ven]

The Closet

Summary: The Wolfpack is sick of the constant arguing between you and Wolffe, so they take matters into their own hands. Surely if you and the Commander were accidentally locked into one of the supply closets, you’d come to some sort of middle ground, right?

Well, there’s one thing they’re forgetting… you’re claustrophobic.

TW: small spaces, claustrophobia, panic attack 

Word Count: 4.7k

-> Reader uses she/her pronouns - masterlist can be found here <-

“It’s the perfect plan!” Boost exclaims, slapping the table in front of him for emphasis. 

The mesh hall is relatively crowded today, many hungry troopers finally getting some time to relax after another tough mission. Despite the loud chatter of the room, Sinker keeps his voice low. 

“I’m not sure,” he concludes with the shake of his head “it sounds risky and Wolffe is in a bad mood as it is, I don’t want this to make him worse”.

At the other side of the table, Boost shares a mild look of annoyance with Comet. “C’mon Sarge, this solves all of our problems!” Comet replies with a whine. It took him and Boost the past week to come up with this plan, putting more time into it than they’d like to admit.

With a deadpan voice, Sinker replies “Oh so this will end the war? And kill Dooku? And wash the gunships? Each and every problem we have will be instantly solved if we lock them in a supply closet?”.

Boost shrugs, trying to stay optimistic “You never know”. Sinker scoffs, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

The plan was simple but Comet and Boost couldn’t do it alone. They needed Sinker for this to work. Sighing, Boost leans across the table “Look, all you have to do is get her into the closet on the lower deck, that’s it”. 

Sinker is still unsure. “We’ll get the Commander, shove him in there, lock the door and ta-dah! Job done” Comet adds. 

This doesn’t sound like a good plan. Sinker knows that but it is enticing. He’s not sure if he can handle another mission full of you and Wolffe’s bickering, the two of you proclaiming you can’t stand the other.

Missions would be much easier if you both avoided each other but no, despite the constant arguing you two engage in, you will still insist on being near one another, whether that be sharing the same holomap (which is an absolute nightmare to witness) or standing next to one another in a briefing (which leads to you interrupting him and vice versa for the entire. damn. briefing.).

Sinker wants to say no, to put a stop to his brother’s shenanigans but would this do any harm? Maybe if you both got the opportunity to confront one another and get all of this arguing out of your system once and for all, then you might come to some sort of middle ground and let bygones be bygones.

“If I agree to this…” he begins and Boost impulsively throws his fist in the air “Yes! You're in!”.

“I said if…” Sinker says sternly “if I do this then the two of you have to wash the gunships”.

Boost nearly falls off his seat “H-how many are you expecting us to wash, Sarge?”. 

“I want four done by the end of the next rotation”.

Although Comet has never experienced a heart attack, he’s sure this is how it feels “What?! Four? C’mon Sinker, be reasonable”.

He folds his arms “Boys, if you want my help then that’s what it’ll cost ya”. Exchanging looks to one another, Comet huffs “Fine, we agree”.

***

The sound of your name makes you look up, eyes wide as you scan the corridor. Manoeuvring through some troopers, Sinker comes into view. 

Closing your datapad, you give the Sargeant your full attention, a relaxed smile on your face. 

“Sinker, what can I do for you?” You ask.

A flicker of sympathy crosses Sinker’s face as he answers “Well, I was just wondering if you could help me get some batca patches from the supply closet. There’s a whole box in there but, well, y’know me, I accidentally pushed them behind the shelving unit and now they’re stuck between that and the wall. Do you think you could get them for me?”.

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, so quick to help that it makes the ball of guilt in Sinker’s stomach grow “lead the way”.

While usually you and Sinker always find things to talk about, he’s strangely quiet during your walk to the lower deck. It’s not something that alarms you but instead, it worries you. 

It’s no secret that things have been intense lately. The missions have gotten deadlier, injuries are harder to aid and the Separatist army seems to be growing more and more by the minute.

Even something as simple as accidentally knocking some bacta patches behind a cabinet seems like a dire problem nowadays. 

“It’s that one, just up ahead” Sinker slows his pace, pointing at one of the closets. 

“You’re not coming in?” You quirk an eyebrow, slowing your pace to match his. 

“Hm? Oh… uh, no I have to go help the General with something… sorry, I should’ve said that beforehand” he scratches the back of his neck, preferring to look down at the floor.

“That’s ok, you go on ahead, I’ll take care of this” with a firm nod, you open the door to the closet and disappear inside. Once Sinker’s certain the door has fully closed behind you, he lets out a long sigh. Kriff, that was harder than he thought it would be.

The inside of the closet is dark, the dim lights taking a few seconds to boot up. In your time serving the GAR, you’ve been on a multitude of ships, covered with the most cutting edge technology and yet in each and every ship, the closets are always neglected. 

They’re a second thought in comparison to the other elements of the ship. Cluttered floors, racks that are full of various stock that are probably out of date, a musty smell in the air, dull lights that are incapable of doing their sole purpose. It’s not a place you want to be for a long time.

Trying to look behind the metal shelving units, you mumble a curse. It’s dark behind the cabinets with barely enough space between them and the wall for you to fit your arm through.

Stooping down, you reach into the darkness, trying to find this damn box of bacta patches so you can quickly leave again. 

You’re so invested in finding the box, you pay no attention to the voices outside. “Why would the General want to meet me in there?” A voice says and without missing a beat, another voice replies “I’m not sure, Commander, I thought it was best not to ask”.

Behind you, the door opens but with the position you’re in, it’s hard to turn around and look. “I haven’t found it yet,” you call out “kriff, how far back did it fall?”.

The person doesn’t reply. 

“I know you’re really busy just standing there and all, Sinker,” you huff “but I’d really appreciate some help”.

“Sinker?” the voice scoffs, making you freeze. Clumsily removing your hand from behind the cabinet, you stand up straight and come face to face with Commander Wolffe.

You have to admit, you didn’t think you’d come this close to him, your chest almost bumping against his as you sway backwards to give him some space. “Oh! Commander-“ you start but Wolffe talks over you.

“I know us clones all look the same but the last time I checked, Sergeant Sinker has silver hair and both of his biological eyes”. You can hear the venom in his voice, his tone laced in sarcasm as he continues “Just a tip, so you don’t mix people up next time”.

You can’t help scoff, retorting “Mix people up? I wasn’t even looking at you! Am I just supposed to sense how many biological eyes you have?”.

“You should look whenever someone enters a room,” Wolffe begins to lecture you “that’s protocol 101; always be aware of your surroundings”.

“My apologies, Commander, I didn’t realise I came here to get a lesson in GAR protocol” you snap back. This is a usual occurrence whenever you and Wolffe are near each other, neither of you backing down and arguing until you’re separated by the others.

With the rolls of his eyes, Wolffe gestures towards the door “Just go, I have an important meeting in here”.

“With pleasure” you mumble, trying to move around the Commander without walking straight into him or colliding with the multiple cabinets.

Wolffe leans to the side, huffing loudly just to make sure you know this is a bother to him, giving you space to step over one of his legs and move to the door.

Your fingers brush against the control panel to the door, lighting it up. Nothing happens. You wait a few moments before doing it again but this time you press harder on the panel. Still nothing.

“Huh…” you crease your brow, repeating the action for a third time.

You hear some movement behind you and Wolffe turns his body to face you, peering over your shoulder at the control panel. With his critical gaze on you, you try again but to no avail. 

“Are you pressing it hard enough?” his voice is gruff and surprisingly close to your ear. 

You jerk your head away from him “Jeez, are you trying to make me go deaf? Of course I’m pressing it hard enough!”. With extra force, you press down on the control panel again. 

Nothing. 

Wolffe rolls his eyes, reaching his arm around you and trying it himself “Obviously you’re not if the door isn’t opening”. Stabbing his finger at the control panel, you hear a small “...oh” from behind you when the door still refuses to open. 

“Move over, let me have a proper look at it” Wolffe puts his hands on your shoulders, abruptly guiding you away from the control panel as you both switch places in a shuffling motion.

Now with Wolffe closest to the door, you lean against one of the cabinets, firmly planting your hands on the cool metal. 

You can feel your face becoming flushed, a surge of warmth spreading across your cheeks. The door will open, of course it will. This is just a small malfunction, that’s all. And then you can leave this stupid closet and never come back here again. 

Trying to distract yourself, you decide to subject yourself to small talk with Wolffe. 

“So, why are you here anyway?” you ask, your grip tightening on the shelves as if you’re bracing for impact. 

Wolffe keeps his focus on the control panel, fiddling with it as he answers “The General wants to meet me in here, says it’s something important”. 

Are you hallucinating or did he just say the General? Clarifying, you ask “General Plo wanted to talk to you… in a supply closet?”.

“That’s what I said”.

“And the General said this to you himself?” you pry, trying to ignore the loud thudding of your heart. 

“Not exactly” putting his hands on his hips, Wolffe pauses his investigation of the control panel “hmm, it was Comet and Boost. They said he wanted to meet me here”.

You force out a small laugh “And you believed them? Really?”.

Wolffe says something you don’t quite catch, something in Mando’a. Running his hand down his face, he gives the control panel a death stare for good measure. 

“The bad news is the door is locked from the outside, so I can’t open it from here but the good news is the maintenance droids run on a tight schedule so one of them should be…” glancing over his shoulder at you, his words fail him and for a moment, Wolffe’s taken aback.

The puzzled look on the Commander’s face makes you feel even worse, an overwhelming feeling of dread consuming your senses. “What? What is it?” you question, your tone a little too confrontational but thankfully Wolffe doesn’t bite back (for once).

“Why is your face so red?”.

Your stomach twists in directions you’re not sure it’s meant to, utterly embarrassed by such a question. Averting your gaze, your eyes lock onto the shelves that line the room, so cluttered it feels like they’re swarming you.

If you reach your arm out, you could touch almost any shelf. Could you do that beforehand? Is the room getting smaller?

With the surprisingly gentle call of your name, Wolffe brings your attention back to him, his hands out in front of him as if he’s trying to tame a wild animal. “Just tell me what’s wrong,” he coaxes, moving closer to you “are you hurt? Is that why you're in here?”.

With his hand a mere inch from touching you, you flinch, pressing yourself deeper into the cabinet as you screw your eyes shut. It’s not that you don’t mind being touched but the thoughts of feeling such a dominant presence as well as the cramped aura of the room makes your stomach churn. 

“No, no, I don’t like this room,” you blurt out, voice beginning to shake as you continue “everything feels too tight, it’s all too close, I-I don’t like it”.

Wolffe can handle fighting battle droids, kriff, he can even hold his own against a sith but this? He knows he’s out of his depth but Wolffe also knows this isn’t the time to freeze, not when it’s you. Right now, you need him and he’ll be damned if he doesn't help.

He notices your tight grip on the shelves, your knuckles turning white as if you’re holding on for dear life. “Do you want to sit down?” Wolffe keeps his voice uncharacteristically soft, stooping to the ground in the hopes you’ll follow. 

Hesitantly opening your eyes, you scan the floor below. It’s covered in loose, discarded items that once sat on the shelves but have since been looked over and forgotten.

Is there any part of this closet that’s clean? That doesn’t feel crowded? Your head pangs, pain lingering across your forehead. 

You let out a whine. Wolffe keeps one of his hands stretched out to you, opening his palm wide “Don’t be stupid about this, let me help you”. 

You don’t think he can help, in fact you don’t think anyone can help you right now. But then your gaze meets his. Wolffe looks up at you with calm, hopeful eyes, his rough exterior and brazen nature slowly melting away. 

You try to take a deep breath but the tightness in your throat makes it an impossible task. You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t even want to look at Wolffe right now, the embarrassment of your involuntary actions making you feel worse. But what other choice do you have? It’s not like you can walk away, you can barely take a step forward without face planting a cabinet.

Nervously nodding your head, you take his hand. Wolffe tentatively encloses his hand around yours, watching your reaction closely. At any sign of further discomfort or even the slight jerk of your hand, he would let go, not wanting to accidentally make matters worse. 

“Good… finally, you actually followed an order” he jibes, the subtle smirk on his face letting you know he’s not purposely dissing you. Although this is a comment you’d usually roll your eyes at, you weirdly find comfort in his typical teasing. 

With his hand to steady you, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. “There you go,” Wolffe comments “were you hurt? During the last battle?”. He knows you said it’s the room causing this but he doesn’t see how that’s possible. Not unless this was somehow caused by an injury you sustained in battle, one that’s only rearing its head now.

You shake your head, though that only makes you feel dizzy. “No, no… i-it’s too tight, this room, I need to get out,” you reply through laboured breaths.

Keeping one hand enclosed around yours, Wolffe uses his other hand to reach up and try the control panel again. He sighs when nothing happens. 

Letting out a small whimper, you slip your hand out of Wolffe’s, using both of your hands to pull your knees up against your chest as you hang your head low. 

You’ll never hear the end of this. Out of all the clones aboard, why did it have to be Wolffe in here? The one person you know will bring this up at a later date just to get the upper hand in an argument. 

What makes it worse is that you know he’ll only view you as being weak after this. Wolffe is a man that’s been through so much in his life, surviving a countless number of battles, disasters and attempts on his life. The heavy feeling of shame makes you hold onto your knees tighter. Wolffe is such a strong soldier and here you are, crumbling because of a locked door.

The soft sound of your name drags you away from your internal self-criticism, followed by a poking sensation on your leg.

Barely looking up, you see Wolffe prodding your knee, repeating your name again as he adds “I can’t help unless you give me something to work with, tell me what I can do”.

Wolffe has always had mixed feelings about you but that doesn’t mean he wants to see you upset. Sure, you’re stubborn… and feisty… and a headache to work with but in fairness, you’ve always been there for the Wolfpack. 

After a tough fight, you’ve helped them bandage up. When you don’t have full faith in a plan (usually one of Wolffe’s) you’ll create a backup plan for when things inevitably go off track. Even on those quiet rotations, when memories filled with loss and regret begin to flood his brother’s heads, you’re there, listening to them. You’re a comforting presence in many of their lives, even Wolffe’s.

But don’t even ask him to say that out loud. That’s never going to happen.

He pokes you again “C’mon, it’s not like I’m going anywhere… even if I wanted to”. You huff out a laugh, though that proves harder than you initially thought, your dry mouth making the laugh sound more like a cough.

If you don’t get out of here soon, you think you might get sick, the anxious feelings in your stomach continuing to gnaw away at you. 

“I… I need to get out, I need to leave” with newfound determination, you begin to stand. 

The second you plant your feet on the ground, you know it’s a bad idea, feeling your muscles tremble. It’s as if you can feel each and every one of your nerves twitching, your body involuntarily trembling with panic.

Wolffe is quick to follow suit, trying to stand without knocking into one of the shelves. “Woah, take your time” he says a bit more sharply than he anticipated. 

“No, let me leave, I need to-“ before you can even finish your sentence, your legs go from underneath you. You drop, about to crash back onto the ground when Wolffe catches you, scooping you up in his arms.

“What did I tell you?” He mutters with a huff, fully enclosing his arms around you as he lowers you back down to the ground. “Stay low,” he orders “the last thing either of us need is you fainting and smacking your head against the floor”.

You thought the feeling of someone else near you would make this worse, adding a new layer of suffocation to your mixture of emotions. But it’s actually kinda nice, the warmth radiating from Wolffe acting like a warm, welcoming blanket of comfort. 

Being in the professional setting of the GAR for so long, you’ve forgotten how soothing physical touch can be at times. Although your reaction is subtle, Wolffe notices how you faintly lean into him, your head a mere few inches from resting on his chest. He watches you for a moment, studying your face. 

Thankfully, you have your eyes closed again so he’s not worried you’ll catch him staring at you. Even though you’re in the middle of a panic attack, you look more relaxed than usual. Or at least more relaxed than how you usually are around Wolffe. 

Whenever he sees you, it’s only a matter of time before you both get worked up, the two of you bickering or making not so subtle jabs at one another. But looking at you now, there’s not a single trace of that annoyance he normally associates with you.

“Just relax, take some deep breaths” he encourages you, using his hand that’s resting on your upper back to give you a gentle nudge towards him. Wolffe isn’t sure how else to let you know it’s ok to relax against him, seeing the option of saying it directly being too awkward. 

He gives you a small smile and an approving nod as you do exactly that, letting your body fall against him as you rest your head on his chest.

Your hand comes up to his chest too, clutching onto the firm fabric of his Commander’s uniform, something you’re grateful he’s wearing considering his plastoid armour would be way too uncomfortable to relax against.

With your eyes still closed, you attempt to take some deep breaths, your breathing hitching every now and again. You try to sync your breathing up with Wolffe’s, finding the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest to be a lulling piece of comfort.

The tight sensation that grips your heart doesn’t fade instantaneously but you have to admit, it’s nice having someone close. It gives your mind something else to focus on instead of the cramped room, Wolffe’s presence distracting you from your worries.

The only time Wolffe ever expected you to be this close to him is if you had enough of his shit and decided to swing for him. Never in a million years would he imagine you being so peaceful and close to him.

With your voice coming out as a small whisper, you mumble “Thank you”. 

His heart beats faster at your small piece of gratitude, something Wolffe hopes you can’t hear through his uniform. He’s not used to things like this. Give him a blaster and Wolffe can handle himself just fine but holding someone and trying to comfort them? That’s not his strong suit. 

Taking a deep breath, you speak again, this time projecting your voice a bit more. “Did you really think you were meeting Master Plo here?” you sniffle, your head still aching but thankfully, the pain’s beginning to dull. 

Wolffe has to stop himself from doing another eye roll, not wanting to start a fight or get you worked up again. “That’s what I was told” he grunts.

To his surprise, you let out a small, genuine laugh. It makes his hands twitch, wanting to pull you even closer and relish in your laugh but he resists the urge. 

“And who told you that again? Oh yeah, Comet and Boost, two troopers known for their unwavering seriousness and hatred for pranks” you laugh, something Wolffe is thankful to hear again. 

“Alright you got me there,” he admits, knowing it wasn’t the smartest move to believe his troublesome brothers “but why are you in here? Did they say the same thing to you?”.

“Actually it was Sinker,” you reveal, getting rather comfy leaning against the Commander “he asked if I could get some bacta patches he accidentally dropped behind the cabinets”.

You can feel Wolffe deflate, puffing out a deep breath “Please tell me you didn’t actually believe that”.

“Why?” You crane your head to look up at him, watching as he tries to suppress his annoyed expression. 

Although you’d never say this outloud, he looks nice like this. Looking up at him in this position gives you a great view of his jawline, both of his eyes peering down at you and a genuine smile playing at his soft lips.

Damn, maybe you did actually hit your head. Trying to refocus on what he’s saying, you push any admiration you have for the Commander deep, deep down.

“Because the batca patches are stored on the upper deck,” removing one of his hands from you, he runs it down his face “kriff, you’ve been on this ship for months and you don’t even know where the batca patches are stored”.

While you would normally jeer back a response or scoff at Wolffe’s remark, immediately becoming defensive, you find it hard to do that after everything that’s happened. 

You finally feel relaxed again, a calmness settling in your stomach and putting your heart at ease. You’re in no mood to start a fight and frankly, you don’t think you have the energy for it either.

Instead you laugh again. After all, Wolffe has a point. You should’ve known where the bacta patches are kept and if you did then you wouldn’t be in this predicament. It was a silly mistake and at this moment, you can’t find the energy within you to do anything but laugh. 

Wolffe chuckles too, appreciating your reaction. Shrugging, he admits “Can’t blame you too much, it was only last week I realised the caff machine in the mesh hall has more than one setting”.

“Seriously?” you laugh again “But the default setting on that thing tastes like droid oil”.

“I know that all too well” Wolffe shakes his head, almost tasting the sour caff on his tastebuds from the mere mention of it.

You open your mouth to speak again but before you can, the door slides open, the bright lights from the corridor making you squint. A droid whirls into the room, taking no notice of you and going about it’s own business. 

And just like that, your time with Wolffe is over. 

Giving him a small smile, you climb off of him, getting to your feet. Watching Wolffe stand too, a sudden awkwardness hangs over you. Is that it? What do you say now? Thanks for the help but I’ll still call you out the next time you’re a jerk?

Noticing Wolffe’s expression, it’s clear you’re not the only one feeling this way. “Well, I guess that’s that” he nods, gesturing for you to leave the closet. You do so gratefully, shuffling past the droid and stepping into the wide and spacious hallway. 

When Wolffe steps out, you’re sure you see a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. But you quickly brush past it, blaming it on your vision still adjusting to the bright lights. 

“Are you going to be okay from here?” Wolffe asks, though it takes you a few moments to process his words, Wolffe’s head hanging low and voice just above a whisper. You’re not sure why he’s talking so low, it’s not like there’s many troopers on the lower deck to overhear. 

“Yeah,” you try to sound confident in your answer “I’ll take it easy for the rest of the rotation, just in case”. In an effort to persuade him, you give Wolffe a quick smile. 

“Right, well you know how to contact me if you need me…” he replies before realising how soft that sounds, immediately breaking eye contact with you and clearing his throat “or just go to the medbay, yes, that’s the better option, do that instead of contacting me. I’m very busy today”

“Busy getting stuck in closets?” you playfully tease, trying to brush past this awkward energy. 

He chuckles “Better me than you”. Kriff, that sounds too soft too. Wolffe’s not a tender, warm hearted kinda guy, so he’s not sure why he’s trying to be that around you, even if it’s subconsciously. 

Quickly shoving his feelings to one side, Wolffe chalks it up to your rare vulnerable moment bringing out his protective nature. That’s it. The next time he’ll see you, things will be normal, none of this small talk or softened expressions to one another.

With the curt nod of his head, the Commander walks away. It’s true, he does have a lot to do today but if you were to contact again, he’d be there in a heartbeat… even though he’s not exactly sure why he’d feel so much urgency to be there for you again. 

You blink a few times, surprised by his abrupt exit. But then you remember this is Wolffe so his sudden departure should’ve been expected. After all, he’s “so busy”. Rolling your eyes, you walk in the opposite direction, deciding to track down Sinker and give him a piece of your mind.

[sorrelfox]

I do not like caves and Lost Johns' Cave did not help the matter.

[twistedtalking]

Can I request a gender neutral s/o | reader who is not scared about talking to Riddle despite his reputation of being harsh on people and also treated him with respect? They called him civilly with his last name and always dropped by to check up on him too.

Unfortunately, for them since he is a yandere-

Finally! A request! 1st one in months.

Thank you!

TW: OOC, storage room, claustrophobia(?)

Context: someone sent u a very creepy letter, something like

"Go to the warehouse or else. I really really love you. Don't you dare disobey me." It was written with blood red ink(?) (Hopefully, it's ink) And for Grim's safety, you obey. Suddenly, the door locks. You see Riddle, and try to ask him for help, but an eery grin rests upon his face.

"Why do you look so surprised? Is this not what you wanted? I mean, you must have known this was coming. You must have wanted this! And as you are very dear to me, I let you.

So why do you look so...

.

.

A-are you shivering? Do you fear me?

This is so unlike you.

It must be Ace and Deuce's fault! You spend too much time with them. They must have influenced you!

Don't worry, dear.

I'll make sure they are

properly punished.

.

.

.

No?

What do you mean "NO"? Is this not what you wanted?

.

" I misunderstood?"

I DID NOT.

You love me! You must've loved me! Otherwise, why would you do all that? Why else if not for love?! You did this because you love me.

You wouldn't have done so much if you had not a smidgen of love in you. "They" must have tricked you! Put you under a spell! A potion perhaps.

I should've been more wary. You attract too many wasps, my rose.

WHO WAS IT?! Was it Schoenheit? Ashengrotto?? Whoever it is, it shall be

"Off With Their Head"!

.

.

Don't worry, dearest.

I'll keep you safe from all these hooligans.

Now stay put. I must punish those who dare touch my rose.

Just stay in this room. Don't take one step out of here. That's an order.

You won't disobey your queen, will you?

.

.

Or has Ace and Deuce influenced you to such an extent. I should forbid them from speaking to you. Perhaps they should be punished-

You'll stay? Good.

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: day two

Prompt: Solitary Confinement

Prompt from @febuwhump

Tw: violence, claustrophobia (explicit), blood, general brutality, strong Whumper, (if I missed anything lmk, sorry I’m tired)

P.S. — the pronouns for both characters is male, it might get patchy sometimes but just from the outset, okay enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

A hand curling into Whumpee’s shirt and hauling him  out of bed in the dead of night was his wake-up call. Whumpee eyes shot open in the darkness, panic seizing his chest as he seized the wrist of the hand, his legs hit the floor but turned to jelly, his bare feet finding no purchase.

“Wha—!” Whumpee cried in alarm, legs kicking uselessly at his attacker. The hand in his shirt bunched the fabric and another was on Whumpee’s hip. The next thing Whumpee knew they were weightless until his back thumped into the wall across the room, winding them, as they fell to the ground with a dull thud and a gasp.

Whumpee had only got his hands under him when they got a kick to the ribs. It lifted Whumpee’s body off the floor, before another more forceful followed. The impact sent Whumpee back into the wall gasping, his head knocking off the wall leaving him  dazed.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out, Whumpee?” Whumper’s voice said from above Whumpee, fury hidden behind the eerie calm of his voice.

“Wh—” Whumpee gasped, the words catching in his throat. Whumpee coughed trying to clear it which gave Whumper another reason to kick him in the ribs again.

Whumpee wrestled his arms down over his ribs trying to protect him futilely, but Whumper just kept kicking. The final kick stomped down on Whumpee’s back as they tried to get to his hands and knees. Whumpee hit the floor with a pained oomph.

Whumpee coughed pathetically, rasping in breaths to fill his lungs but every breath felt like a dagger in his chest.

A hand balled into the back of Whumpee’s shirt and started to drag Whumpee out the door of his room into the hall. The fabric of his pyjama bottoms sliding easily across the hall, mixed with the lame sounds of Whumpee’s feet screeching across the wood trying to get to his feet.

“Get up Whumpee,” Whumper told him without letting Whumpee go or slowing enough to let Whumpee get to his feet. Out of sheer will Whumpee pushed themselves to his hands and started half crawling on all fours. Half crawling, because Whumper would pull him at the worst times and Whumpee would slip and have to start the process over again.

Whumper dragged Whumpee to the stairs and didn’t slow or push Whumpee down like Whumpee thought they would. Instead, Whumper dragged Whumpee down the stairs and when Whumpee twisted in his hold Whumper let go and Whumpee tumbled half way down them.

They landed with his back against the railing, mouth open in a silent scream at the fire of pain that raced through his ribs and chest and back. They stared up pathetically at Whumper as he descended, the moonlight and shadows painting him  more like a monster than a man.

Whumper crouched down, catching Whumpee’s cheeks in between his thumb and forefinger and pinching him until Whumpee cried out.

“Look at you. Pathetic. To think I had a bit of respect for you, if I’m honest, that you would even dare to fight against me.”

“Fuck you—” Whumpee said, but his jaw groaned at them, and all that they managed was “uck—ou” but still the sentiment was there.

“Don’t worry, Whumpee, we’ll get that nasty defiant streak out of you yet. I’ll never give up on you. You have too much potential to let you go.”

Whumper let go of Whumpee’s face then sent a swift punch to his cheekbone. Whumpee’s head whipped to the side with the impact, crying out. Whumper’s fingers captured Whumpee’s chin and tilted his head back to stare forward. Another swift punch to the cheek and Whumpee gasped. Whumper stood in one fluid motion and kicked Whumpee down the rest of the steps.

Whumpee landed starfish on the ground, his head bouncing off the ground and rattling his brain. Whumpee grit his teeth when Whumper bunched a hand into the back of his shirt again but Whumpee was ready this time and was already pushing themselves up to his feet.

Whumper yanked him the rest of the way to standing and then shoved him forward.

“Atta boy, Whumpee,” Whumper praised as Whumpee stumbled, catching themselves to stop themselves from falling again. Whumpee strode passed Whumpee, practically skipping as he said, “come along Whumpee.”

Whumpee froze when Whumper opened the door to stairs that led to the basement. Whumpee’s legs were like lead as they approached the door, and looked down to see Whumper grinning up at them. Whumper tilted his head at Whumpee, tsking him for lingering by the door.

“Come now, Whumpee, this isn’t the time to be brave,” Whumper said in his smooth, condescending voice. “You don’t want to be in more trouble than you already are, do you?”

Whumpee swallowed hard, helpless tears pinching at the corners of his eyes. They steeled themselves as they descended the stairs towards Whumper, who, after threatening him had already turned to open the basement door, knowing with complete certainty that Whumpee would follow.

The door was made of steel to ensure it couldn’t be broken down, no matter how hard you tried to claw or punch or scream at it. It didn’t bend, or break, or even flinch sympathetically at Whumpee, it just stood like Whumper: cold, stoic, solid.

Whumpee smothered a gasp when his bare feet hit the cement floor, wrapping his arms around themselves as they shivered. Whumpee stepped further into the basement, dread weighing down heavy on his shoulders.

Whumper… he couldn’t know for sure, right? He couldn’t… Whumpee had been so careful.

Whumpee flinched as Whumper shut the door. The turn of the lock sealing his fate. Whumper hung his overcoat and scarf on the coat rack, he kept the suit jacket on which was good. When he took that off and his tie Whumpee knew they really fucked up.

Maybe he doesn’t know, Whumpee dared to hope. They just stared as Whumper walked around to the wall of torture instruments, eyes and body following every movement.

“Tell me, Whumpee, why do you think I dragged you out of bed at 4 in the morning?” Whumper asked, as his eyes roamed over the many instruments designed to cause Whumpee pain.

“Because you’re a sadistic fuck?” Whumpee supplied sweetly.

Whumper laughed. “Mmm, no, but points for style. Try again.”

Whumpee swallowed, tightening his grip on his arms to stop themselves from shaki— shivering. They were shivering because they were cold.

“I don’t know,” Whumpee said, voice quiet. Whumper looked at him over his shoulder, a coy smile on his face.

“Come on, Whumpee. Tell me again what’s my number one rule in the basement?”

Whumpee trailed his gaze just behind Whumper’s head to the wall of horror, not wanting to look in Whumper’s eyes when he said quietly: “no lying.”

“What was that Whumpee? You’re mumbling.”

“No lying,” Whumpee ground out, angry eyes going back to Whumper’s face. Whumper’s smile only grew as he stared at Whumpee. Then he turned his body towards Whumpee and took a menacing step forward. Whumpee had to fight the urge to take a step back.

“Actually, why ruin a good thing we had going?” Whumper asked, shrugging off his jacket. Whumpee’s blood ran cold as Whumper threw his jacket over the chair that Whumpee had been tied to so many times.

Whumper pulled at his tie, loosening the knot.

“Wait!”

The word was out of his mouth before Whumpee could stop it, fear seizing his throat but Whumper paused and that let some relief flood Whumpee’s body.

Whumper smiled kindly at Whumpee. “Yes Whumpee?” He asked innocently.

Whumpee licked his lips, searching for a tangible reason they asked for Whumper to stop other than to delay the inevitable beating.

Whumper tilted his head to the side, lips forming a pout. Whumpee’s heart slammed against his chest, his mind racing as they tried to form a single reason to stop Whumper.

“Why did you bring me down here?” Whumpee tried. If they tried hard enough they could try and play innocent.

Whumper’s smile left his eyes but stayed on his lips, reminding Whumpee of a stray cat who was killing mice just for fun when they were already full.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Whumpee,” Whumper said simply, a smile in his voice as he undid his tie and left it loose over his white button down. Whumper took a step towards Whumpee and this time Whumpee matched it with one back.

“Whumper please,” Whumpee pleaded desperately. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

Whumper shrugged, matching Whumpee step for step. “It’s never bothered me before that you don’t know the reason.”

Whumpee stepped around the medical table, putting it between them, giving him some space from the predator stalking them.

“Yes,” Whumpee blurted. “Yes it has!”

That caused Whumper to pause. “Explain.”

“You— you,” fuck Whumpee! Explain! “You want to teach me a lesson, right? Lesson 1: the golden rule, no lying right? You can’t just attack me for no reason or— or I won’t learn how I disappointed you, right?!”

Right?

Whumper let out a bark of humourless laughter that could curdle Whumpee’s blood. The hairs on the back of his neck prickling, his mind screaming at him to run.

“You know what Whumpee…” Whumper trailed off thoughtfully. “You are right. I do like to teach you lessons. Although, clearly, I need to re-educate on what I constitute as lying. You do remember that omissions count as lying.”

Whumpee’s bottom lip started to wobble, so they bit it to keep it from trembling as Whumper stepped around the table.

“Remind me again,” Whumper said with a step forward, “how did we rectify that situation? How did I teach you about lying?”

Whumpee blanched. “No. No. Nononono,” they protested, backing up as they spoke, hands raised defensively in front of him when his back hit the wall. “No, Whumper please— anything but that, please!”

Whumper grinned, showing his teeth at seeing Whumpee had nowhere else to go. So he took his time in advancing on Whumpee, focusing on the dramatic, really wanting to scare the shit out of Whumpee.

“Oh Whumpee…” Whumper sighed. “Whumpee, Whumpee, Whumpee,” he said, punctuating each use of Whumpee’s name with another step until he was right in front of Whumpee, looking down on Whumpee with that toothy, wolfish grin.

Whumper reached a hand up to thumb away the tears on Whumpee’s face. Whumpee flinched at the contact. They were shaking violently, wanting to shove Whumper’s hand off him but they didn’t want to do anything to aggravate him further.

“Whumpee, this punishment will go away if you just tell me, honestly why I brought you down here. Hmm?”

Whumpee swallowed the lump in his throat trying to get rid of it, but it stayed stubbornly lodged there making it harder to breathe to speak to think.

They couldn’t give up Hero Caretaker… they couldn’t. They didn’t want Whumper to find him too and torture them. Not after everything that Hero had done for them… offering him the brightest ray of hope Whumpee hadn’t seen before. A way out of Whumper and his cruel contracts.

More pressing was the very real fear of going back into that… that cage. Where Whumpee couldn’t move an inch without hitting the edge, unable to think, or scream, or fight back at all.

There was also the chance that Whumper didn’t know about Hero at all, and if Whumpee confessed then Whumper would get more mad and punish him harsher.

“I know you hate the cage, but if it’s the only thing that’ll loosen your tongue then it’s the only way I can punish you.”

“Whumper please, anything but that,” Whumpee begged. “I’ll kneel— I’ll do whatever you want just pl— ple—”

“Shhh, shhh, sh, Whumpee. It’s okay. This is your last chance. Why are you down here?”

A helpless rush of adrenaline crawled vicious up Whumpee’s throat and they did all they thought they could. They shoved Whumper back and when he was far enough back, Whumpee kicked him  back further and then ran for the wall of weapons.

They had only managed to just grasp a knife when Whumper was on them, shoving Whumpee forward.

Whumpee’s face hit off the wall, but they got his palms on it and pushed back. A hand snaked into his hair and slammed his head once, twice, three times into the wall. Warm blood trickled down Whumpee’s nose, before Whumper disoriented Whumpee by yanking him backwards. It was a harsh pull to the dazed Whumpee who fell straight backwards, his skull hitting off the cement.

Light flashed behind his eyes at the impact. The next thing they knew Whumper was on top of them, his polished shoe crushing Whumpee’s knife wielding wrist into the cement while he rested his forearm against Whumpee’s windpipe not letting Whumpee up for air.

Whumpee struggled sluggishly against Whumper’s hold, gasping without air like a beached shark.

“God, I love it when you pick the hard way, Whumpee,” Whumper sang above Whumpee. Though it was getting hard to see him  with the blackness encroaching his vision. Whumpee felt Whumper pluck the knife from his grip with ease. Whumpee fought back, trying to move but all they did under Whumper was manage a pathetic wiggle.

Whumper let up on Whumpee’s windpipe and Whumpee gasped in air greedily. Then choked on it and sputtered at the rush of oxygen flooding his lungs.

“A knife, hmm?” Whumper asked, eyes bright as he eyed the deadly edge. “Were you going to stab me Whumpee? Tut tut.”

Whumper slashed the knife across Whumpee’s face and Whumpee cried out, struggles renewed under Whumper.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Whumper chastised, pressing the blade against Whumpee’s throat causing Whumpee to still. Whumpee actually stilled.

Whereas before he would’ve dared Whumper to kill him , after Hero he suddenly had something to live. Hero had given him  hope, and now Whumpee couldn’t even call Whumper’s bluff in case he followed through with the threat.

Whumper smiled down at Whumpee. “Look at you. Practically docile. You know what, because you tried so hard Whumpee. Last chance to tell me why you’re here.”

Whumpee swallowed, feeling the blade on his adams apple. “Go fuck yourself, Whumper.”

Whumper’s smile widened. “Good.”

Whumper got off Whumpee, hand bunched in his shirt to lift him again. Whumpee struggled this time. Hard. He hit Whumper’s chest, brought his fist down on Whumper’s hand trying to loosen his hold on Whumpee but it was as if Whumpee was doing nothing. As if he was nothing more than air that Whumper could pass through with ease.

Whumper dragged Whumpee, kicking and screaming, over to the box in the corner, the one Whumpee didn’t want to see.

“You fucking bastard! Let me go! Let me go!”

“Okay,” said Whumper and threw Whumpee to the ground while he opened the door to the cage. It was only the size of a locker but could fit a person in quite uncomfortably. Whumpee had enough room to stand, but not enough room to turn, his shoulders wedged tightly inside. Whumpee tried to crawl away from it, but Whumper caught him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him to his feet.

“Whumper—”

“In you go Whumpee,” Whumper said sweetly, two palms placed on his chest and shoving Whumpee into the cage.

“No! Whumper!” Whumpee screamed, trying to wiggle themselves free in time to stop Whumper from closing the door but Whumper’s smile was the last thing Whumpee saw before the door slammed closed and Whumpee was left, trapped inside the metal prison.

His nose was an inch from the door, his breathing already ragged and echoing off the cramped metal.

“You know, Whumpee,” Whumper said from outside, voice muffled by the thick metal. “I think I might pay that Hero of yours a visit while you’re in there.”

“No!” Whumpee screamed, tears already falling as they bent their arm at the elbow and banged on the door. “Whumper let me out! Let me out, please! Whumper! Don’t touch Hero! Let me out, Whumper please!”

Whumpee kicked the door a few times, their chest tight and heaving in gasping breaths but they weren’t getting enough air, and oh god the whole time Whumper knew about Hero?!…

If… if Whumpee had just told them they wouldn’t be in here.

Whumpee wheezed, trying to get in breath but it wouldn’t fill his lungs quick enough and when it did it was gone just as fast as Whumpee tried to blink back tears and kick the door down, the pounding of their kicks echoing off the metal, deafening, but not quite as loud as Whumpee’s heart that thundered from their chest and seemed to hit every wall of their prison.

“Whumper!” Whumpee screamed, pleaded, begged. “Whumper please! I’m sorry! Whumper! Whumper! WHUMPER?!”

Whumpee broke down into a fit of sobs, unable to control anything in their body. Their brain screamed fight or flight, and Whumpee would lose a physical fight against the metal that surrounded every inch of their body.

“Whumper,” Whumpee sniffed, banging uselessly against the metal. “Whumper come back, please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY FOR LYING, WHUMPER!”

Whumpee didn’t know how long Whumper left them there. Time didn’t seem to matter much when your body was fighting with itself. Eating itself with fear.

It felt like years.

Maybe Whumper would leave them there for years.

Maybe Whumpee would die in that box.

That just set them off again. Screaming, pleading, crying. It felt as if Whumpee went through the five stages of grief on repeat for hours on end, all except Acceptance.

Whumper smiled as they left the basement to Whumpee’s broken voice bargaining with them to let them out.

[basu-shokikita]

Dethentines 2024 Day 4

College AU or forced proximity

Happy Sunday, I finished this entry a few minutes ago! It was a no brainer between these two tropes, making the boys suffer is ALWAYS morally right. And I got a little carried away so this one is closer to a fic than a drabble. 🌸

Skwistok being stupid and flustered, go!

“Whats happens?” Toki asked, his eyes seeing nothing but darkness.

“Eughhhh….”  Skwisgaar replied, not too far away from him, but Toki couldn’t see where. “Where…ams we?” He sounded confused. 

Toki blinked, trying to remember what went down…

Charles had given them specific instructions. Go to the dungeons, don’t speak to anyone, deliver the package and get back to the main levels. And don’t play around the traps, especially do not play with the traps. They were not made for playing. 

Toki dragged Skwisgaar with him, because he was bored and Skwisgaar was bored too though he probably would never admit it. And everything was going smoothly, until Skwisgaar thought it would be funny to start shoving Toki when they were close to those mysterious holes in the ground. Because he was an idiot and wanted to see Toki fall, no matter how many times Toki told him to stop it. Until Toki stumbled and held onto Skwisgaar out of reflex as he fell.

And then everything was black.

“Ah!” He let out a shout of realization. “You dildos, Skwisgaar! I tolds you to stops wif de pushings!”

“Ja, and dens you fells and-” There was a thud, most likely Skwisgaar impacting against something. “What de hells?”

“Whats?”

“I tries to moves and-” Another thud. “I hits against somethingks. Where ams we?”

“I don’t knows!” Toki said with exasperation. “I can’ts even sees! Does you have a lampterns?”

“Toki, why woulds I carries an lants in my owns houses?” Skwisgaar asked, with that tone like Toki had said something incredibly stupid. 

“Wells, you shoulds!” Toki started feeling around. It’s not like he hadn’t spent his childhood in dark places, it just so happened that he wasn’t used to this one. Okay, so he was lying down and there was something hard all under him. He knocked it. Wood most definitely.

Then, he stretched his arm to see how far it went but, before too long, he hit a corner that went upwards, and then another corner that went to the left and above him. If he could reach it with his fingertips that meant it was small. When Toki stretched his left arm, he almost immediately came across something soft, fabric?

“Eugh…?”

Toki kept fondling the unknown texture against his palm. “What ams this?”

“Dats…woulks be mines ass, Toke.” Skwisgaar said in a low tone and Toki jolted so hard he felt his head knock against the wood.

“Wh-Why ams yous ass soes close to mes!” He screeched, pulling his arm away in a frenzy. “What ams wrongs wif yous?!”

“I tolds you I tries to-” Skwisgaar knocked hard against something. “Odins! Dere ams no goddamns spaces in dis plasckes!”

“We needs light!” Toki exclaimed with desperation. “Looks for lights!”

“Okeys, okeys…” Judging by the awkward taps he was hearing, Skwisgaar was searching. Eventually, he stopped. “I thinks I founds somethingks.”

“Ja?”

“Ja…” There was a click and a flash, red light blinding them. Toki instantly covered his face and closed his eyes. After a while, he opened them and it took a while to process the sight. 

And when it did, it was the opposite of reassuring.

They were stuck in some sort of enclosed space, with Skwisgaar on top of him, his head facing Toki’s feet and his crotch hovering over Toki’s chest and his legs resting on the sides of Toki’s head. There was hardly any space to move away from each other.

“What de fucks…” He let out in abject horror.

“Eugh…” Skwisgaar tried to look back, clearly not quite aware yet of what Toki was seeing. “Dis why I couldnts moves earliers.” He tried to back away and Toki saw his ass fastly approaching his face.

“Waits, Skwisgaar!” He raised his hand but stopped inches away from touching his bandmate’s behind. “Don’s move…yous ass is…ams closes to mes right nows…”

“Oh.” Skwisgaar said almost unemotionally. After a pause, he added. “Ams it like de sixty nines-”

“Ja.”

There was some rustling and Toki glimpsed at Skwisgaar moving his head, most likely to confirm the information. ““...Fucks.”

“J-Ja.”

“Nows what?”

Toki tried to think. All things taken in account, he had the better position. Skwisgaar was propped on his arms and legs, there was no way he was going to be able to stay like that for a long time. And when he gave in…

The image that popped in Toki’s mind was so obscene that he had to physically shake off his head. “Tries movings soes we ams facing each others…faces.”

There was a short-lived silence. “Why don’ts you moves?” Skwisgaar sounded irritated.

“Because ams de ones betweens de woods-walls and yous?!” Toki huffed in disbelief. To demonstrate his point, he lifted his knee and it impacted against Skwisgaar’s shoulder. 

“Augh!” Skwisgaar groaned in pain and weakly punched Toki’s calf. 

“Sees? I can’ts even moves!”

Grumbling, Skwisgaar began the process of changing positions. He twisted his body to the side before burying his head in his chest and moving to the right. Clumsily, his legs followed, not without Skwisgaar’s boot rubbing against Toki’s face.

“Heys!”

Skwisgaar ignored him and continued, purposefully sinking his elbow into Toki’s chest as he moved. Annoyed, Toki grabbed him by the wrists to move him faster. 

“Don’ts touch!” Skwisgaar complained, running his hands over Toki’s face like a child. 

“Yous-” Toki slapped Skwisgaar’s hands with his own. “Yous de ones touchings!”

“Yous startedks!”Skwisgaar was now shoving his fingers inside Toki’s mouth.

“Youghh…busheds me!” Toki retaliated by digging his digits into Skwisgaar’s nose. 

“Eugh- Yous mades me falls!”

Slaps and kicks were delivered everywhere, Toki wasn’t even looking what he was punching against, just that it was Skwisgaar’s body. They groaned and cursed and were certainly going to stay frantically hitting each other for an indefinite time until they heard a weird noise in the distance.

Skwisgaar went still. “W-Whats was dats?” 

“I don’t knows…” Toki couldn’t hear it anymore. He wondered how deep they were, if maybe there weren’t monsters in the vicinity. He swallowed heavily. “Maybes we shouldn’ts makes noises for nows.”

Skwisgaar nodded in agreement. “Ja.”

As they stared at one another in silence, Toki realized that maybe his suggestion was foul. They were so close to each other now that Toki could see Skwisgaar’s pearly sweat forming on his forehead, could feel his hot breath on his face and his chest pressed against Toki’s.

“Eugh…” Skwisgaar seemed to notice as well and he shifted his body, to decrease the physical closeness, to no avail. There was no space to move to, one of his knees resting between Toki’s legs. “Dis ams…”

If anything, Toki was glad the light was red because then Skwisgaar wouldn’t notice his flushed cheeks. “M-Maybes turns off de lights?” He suggested, thinking it would be less uncomfortably intimate if they didn’t have to gaze at each other’s faces. 

“Ja, good ideas.” Skwisgaar accepted and his foot began searching for the switch. His eyes strayed away from Toki, frowning deeply and biting down his bottom in concentration and Toki briefly wondered if that’s how Skwisgaar looked in bed before rejecting the thought in a panic.

“Ah!” Skwisgaar looked at Toki victorious and Toki wished it had been in any situation but this one. “I finds it!” And like that, the last thing Toki saw was Skwisgaar sticking his tongue out with his eyes rolled back before they were plunged into darkness again.

Fuck his life, seriously.

There was another noise and the space trembled and Skwisgaar just fell on top of Toki, no longer propping himself up with his limbs. “What da fucks ams goingks on?” Skwisgaar asked, the fear prevalent in his voice.

“Oh, Gods…” Toki said, just as scared. He had been so busy thinking about the space they were in, how cramped it was, that he had forgotten to think about how the hell were they going to leave. “Ams we goings to-” The space shook violently and he instinctively clung to Skwisgaar. “Oh, Gods!”

“Fucks…” Skwisgaar whispered, his face buried in Toki’s shoulder. “Fucks, fucks, fucks…”

“I don’ts wants to dies…” Toki said, his eyes watering.

“I don’ts wants to dies eide- uh, Toki?” Skwisgaar suddenly lifted his head. 

“W-Whats?” Toki’s voice was shaky.

“Ams you…Ams you hards right nows?”

“Whats?!” Toki let go of Skwisgaar. “No, ams no-” The space shook again and he was back at hugging Skwisgaar in fear. “Ahhh!!” He screamed like a child.

“Ahhhh!” Skwisgaar echoed him as the shaking grew worse and worse.

Toki closed his eyes, preparing himself for the end. His life was flashing before his eyes when…

“Toki?” A familiar voice called him. “Skwisgaar?”

Toki opened his eyes. “Was dats…?”

“Toki? Skwisgaar? Just answer if you’re there, boys!”

“Ams dat…?” Skwisgaar trailed off. 

“Alright, they’re not here.” Charles said. “Let’s keep looking.”

Panicked, Toki and Skwisgaar yelled at the same time.

“Helps!”

“Helps us!”

“We ams downs here!”

“Quicks, dere ams bigs monsters whats gonsa eats us!”

“Helps us!

–

Toki and Skwisgaar looked down in shame as their manager scolded them in his office.  Apparently, while messing around, they had fallen into one of the torture traps designed for…Dethklok’s enemies. It was a slow asphyxiation kind of deal, coupled with potential decrease in temperature and eventual crushing. They would’ve certainly suffered a slow and excruciating death if Charles hadn’t realized they were taking too long to come back.

The most embarrassing part was, though, when the Klokateers rescued them and Toki discovered Skwisgaar hadn’t been lying about his you-know-what being awake. Really awake. Nobody referred to it, but still. 

While glancing down at his own groin, Toki decided two things. He was never asking Charles for stuff to do ever again. And he was especially never bringing Skwisgaar with him again.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Do you have any tips for writing panic in first person? I'm stuck right now on a necessary scene where the pov character wakes up in a tight enclosed space which they weren't in before falling asleep

Writing Panic in First-Person

Remember to think about sensory details: what does this character see? What do they hear? What do they smell? What do they taste (if anything)? What do they feel?

Also, remember to consider emotional details. What emotions do they experience that cause this panic? What internal and external cues do they experience in relation to those emotions and the panic?

Finally, remember to touch on what's going on in their mind. What are they thinking when they first wake up? What do they think when they realize where they are? Consider how the specific situation (whether or not they remember/know how they got there, who they think/know put them there, their faith in themselves or others to get them out)--as well as their personality and experience--informs how they respond to not just the panic and other emotions, but what's going through their minds.

I hope that helps!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[drowningindango]

Holy shit, I just realised something.

That beautiful dramatic ass entrance Madara made when he was revived with edo tensei? Where he left his coffin in a single explosive kick/blow that sent the lid flying?

He died before. This was not the first time he woke up in a coffin.

I wonder how he felt after Hashirama killed him, when he woke up inside the coffin/box that Tobirama put him in for safe keeping. When it was new, and possibly frightening to awaken in that tight space, the poor air quality, not meant for the living, before he freed himself from it (and maybe it was not that easy, considering Tobirama meant to keep Madara's body away from thieves. The struggle, for just a moment, to get out...)

No wonder he was so quick to get out of his coffin the second time around. Been there, done that, doesn't care for a repeat.

[bunningchaos]

how can we gain vultous's trust? also why don't he trust newbies? I mean it's good not to trust quickly. but I'd like to know if something is behind him being tense like this.

..Uh oh, Vultous is unable to answer any Asks for now.

I can't draw Santa Claus so I'm not adding him. Locking Vultous in a closet is already mean enough as it is.

Vultous belongs to me (BunningChaos)

Goth/Fell!Goth belongs to nekophy, on Tumblr!

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[the-lady-maddy]

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[serickswrites]

Santa Claus

Warnings: restraints, claustrophobia

Whumpee came to slowly. It was still very dark in their room and they couldn't see. Their arms were pinned tightly behind them. They tried to roll over. They hated when they thrashed so much that they created a straight jacket out of their blankets.

Whumpee's mouth went dry as their arms didn't budge. They tried to blink through the darkness to make out the foot of their bed, but couldn't.

They began to thrash wildly to try and free themself from their blanket prison, but couldn't. As their heart raced, Whumpee desperately tried to see through the darkness and tried to see what had them pinned down. They cried out, unable to get their panic under control.

"Oh, Whumpee," Whumper's smooth voice came through the dark, "you're not at home, silly. Don't worry, I have you somewhere safe and tight."

Whumpee's heart sank as they couldn't breathe around their terror. Whumper had them. Whumper had them and they were in the dark tight space Whumper had always promised to leave them in.

[spacehorrors]

we need more cosmic horror in star wars right now even without weird force stuff the potential for fucked up space ships is right there! is there anything better than floating in the middle of space as the walls press closer to you and there is no planet to be seen? no!!