#and all gruesome in their own way :D

[konakoro]

Starting a list of movies and shows that features people dying horrifically on dance floors

[kurishiri]

95k bonus . . . Liebe geht durch den Magen

— ꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— ꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ warning ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ none; it’s really just vogel being silly! hope you’re ready for the dari, nica, and ring galore, hehe.

Kate: A tea party with all of the members of Vogel…?

Victor: Mhm, it seems like all of them have taken an interest in you. So they asked for a chance to speak with you.

Kate: Well, seeing as I’m the only one who isn’t Cursed, I guess it makes sense they would hold an interest.

Victor: Indeed. …How would you like to answer? It’s completely up to you.

V: …However, both parties hold their own secrets.

V: And we do often take care of them, seeing as they are diplomatic guests.

V: Should there be anything making you anxious, or you feel even slightly you don’t want to do this, or anything of the sort, then you are always free to turn them dow—

Kate: …Victor. I will attend the tea party.

Victor: Wait, really? Are you sure?

Kate: Since they have come here to deepen relations between the organizations, turning down an opportunity like this wouldn’t leave a good impression, I’d imagine.

K: And besides, I would like to be of some use to you and Crown, for extending such hospitality to me.

When I expressed my honest feelings, Victor’s expression softened in turn.

Victor: I’m grateful for your honesty. Well then, it’s about time I give them a response.

V: Ahh, but… I’ll have Roger listen in from nearby, so if something happens you can just give a shout, okay?

V: No matter the time and place, I’ll come running.

After Victor’s words resonated in my heart, several days passed——

Darius: Thank you for accepting our invitation, miss fairytale keeper.

D: Did you perhaps prepare everything on this table?

Lined up on the table was filled to the brim with snacks, causing Darius to blink.

Kate: Victor and I prepared them. We were hoping it would be nice if you could eat these…

K: And that we can be on more friendly terms as we’re chatting like this.

Ring: You want to be on more friendly terms with the ones who might kill you? I don’t see the point?

Kate: …Gh.

Nica: Riiing, now don’t go saying gruesome things like that. You’ll bother the Spatzi.

N: So sorry about that? Ring is a Jungfrau [1] who tends to get a bit more nervous around cute girls.

Wearing an amiable smile as he faced me, Nika lifted the heavy air around us.

Kate: Jung…?

Ring: Y-you don’t have to ask what it is! …And also, it’s not like I’m nervous.

R: But, I won’t deny… that you are… cute…

He was simply cautious around me; it was not as though he was really doing me any harm for now.

…Even so, though, I myself had become ever so slightly anxious.

(The members of Vogel are also Cursed, if I recall, right…)

(If they had such intentions, they could easily take my life.)

The fear that I had first felt when I started working for Crown started to paint over my heart, when…

Darius: …Are you nervous, by any chance?

Donning a childlike innocence, Darius looked into my face.

Kate: Ah… umm…

Darius: Well, well… if we did possess a strong ability much like Sir Rex…

D: I wouldn’t blame you for feeling powerless even while simply conversing.

D: But you can relax around us. My ability will not kill you.

D: ——In fact, there is absolutely no way it will. Okay?

Nica: Oh, me and my brother’s abilities aren’t really harmful too.

N: That said, it can probably make you feel really good and maybe make you feel a bit fuzzy, but that’s actually a good thing, isn’t it?

Kate: R-right…

(Just what ability does that entail…?)

Although I still held my doubts, I knew that their abilities didn’t pose a danger to my life, which ebbed my fear.

Darius: Now then, now that you know we mean you no harm, how about we partake in these?

With Darius’ encouragement, Ring quickly reached out to a cake in front of him.

Ring: Mm…! This is really good.

Taking large bites, the cake was gone before I knew it, and Ring then reached out for another snack.

Nica: Geez, Ring, why are you just taking whatever’s in front of you? Pick the ones that especially look good.

While saying so, Nica reached for a baked pastry diagonal of him.

Nica: I recognize this shape. Isn’t this from the high-class bakery near the castle?

Kate: I’m surprised you know of it! That shop——

Nica: Mn… hm? It’s good, but did it really come from that shop?

Kate: Well, what I wanted to say was that shop’s pastry shapes were the inspiration for these homemade sweets.

That said, this time, Victor and I did make our rounds around a variety of bakeries, and put this together.

And I tried to make homemade pastries here at the castle that were freshly made or were hard to obtain.

Nica: They’re ‘homemade’? So they’re basically cheap foods, in which case I don’t want any.

Kate: Eh—

Nica: Here, Ring, say ‘ahh.’

Nica pushed his half eaten pastry into Ring’s mouth.

Ring: Mn… this is also really good…

When he was eating it, Nica said it was ‘good,’ but maybe he’s actually not good with homemade pastries…?

Darius: Hey, miss fairytale keeper, this is Baumkuchen [2], isn’t it?

This time, Darius called out to me while pulling on my sleeve.

Kate: That’s right. We figured since you’re here, we could prepare some German pastries… or that’s what Victor said.

Darius: Ho-oh…

Darius used a knife to lightly cut a slice before he carried it to my mouth.

Darius: Here, have a bite?

Kate: Mn… mmm, it’s really fluffy and delicious!

Darius: I’m glad to hear. Then it’s my turn.

With layers of the Baumkuchen spilling, Darius brought it to his mouth.

Darius: Mm, it’s delicious. …But, I take it it’s not something made in most of England. So where did you get this?

Kate: Actually, while I was racking my head on how to make Baumkuchen…

K: Victor made a gadget that could make it.

In order to make a delicious Baumkuchen by the tea party, I practiced baking it day in and day out.

…I feel that I can keep the fact that for some time the castle’s snacks consisted of nothing but Baumkuchen to myself.

Darius: He made a whole gadget just for this? Hmm… he’s quite strange, I’d say.

Kate: I can’t argue with that… but I’m sure it’s just that he was happy.

K: Happy that you guys, who are also Cursed, have come to England——or rather, to Crown.

Darius: …The pleasure is ours. I’m delighted at how warmly we’re treated here.

D: I do like the Baumkuchen, so do make it again sometime.

Kate: Alright!

I was so glad he liked it that I gave an immediate answer, but…

(Making it is quite time consuming and requires skill… but I’ll try my best.)

Nica: This topic’s all well and good, but what I really want to hear about the Spatzi [3] herself.

N: You know, like what fragrances you like, or which types of guys you fancy, that kind of thing… what about you, Ring?

Ring: Mngh…!? U-uhm…

R: ………M-maybe, like, which color of the sky she most likes?

Nica: The sophistication’s lacking, I see.

Ring: And what’s the problem with that?

Darius: I do agree with Nika here though. I would also like to get to know you better.

D: But simply asking would be a bore, so how about we play a guessing game?

Nica: So, Ratespiel? Now we’re talking.

Darius: Let’s make it so each person can make a single guess, and until then, we can continue asking questions…

D: Come play with us, why don’t you, miss fairytale keeper?

D: If possible… I would prefer you choose a topic that pertains to yourself.

Kate: Alright, then…

K: Out of the foods on this table, which one is my most favorite?

Darius: Hehe, that’s quite a charming topic? Then let’s start.

Nica: Sounds good to me, though I’d like to propose another twist.

N: The first person to guess the correct answer will be able to ask the Spatzi out on a date. Well, how about it?

Ring: A date…!? [surprised]

Darius: You do make a good point. A competition does call for a prize of sorts… well, miss fairytale keeper? Are you fine with this?

Kate: U-um, I think a date may be a bit——

When I tried to speak up, though, the three of them looked at me, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

Ring was looking at me with a guarded look, as though he were a guard dog who could tear my neck apart with a single order.

Nica was looking at me with a scrutinizing look, as though he was thinking about how to play with a toy.

And Darius was wearing an amiable smile, but his eyes alone were sharp, like that of a predator aiming for its prey——

With the three of them looking at me in their own way, I couldn’t bring myself to disagree, feeling myself surrounded by a heavy air.

Darius: ‘I think a date may be a bit’ what was that now?

Kate: …Nope, never mind. That works for me.

Overwhelmed by the pressure, I could only nod, and Darius returned the gesture with an angelic smile.

Like a signal, the tense atmosphere became more lax.

Darius: Thank you. Then, let the game start.

With that, the tea party proceeded such that Darius, Nika, and Ring asked me questions.

While the discussion occasionally went off track, this peaceful time continued to pass by——

Ring: I got it!

The one who had his answer ready first was Ring.

Darius: A friendly reminder that you only have one chance. If you miss the mark, that will be the end… are you sure you would like to answer?

Ring: Don’t worry, I’m sure of this.

R: The answer is——that fruit before your eyes!

Kate: …Miss.

Ring: Wh…!? I-I see… so it was wrong…

Ring looked a bit despondent at my answer, and though he looked like a guard dog before, in an instant, he looked more like an abandoned puppy,

and I had to desperately fight the urge to say ‘actually, it’s a hit.’

Nica: …Hey, Ring. Mind if I say how you got to your answer?

Ring: ‘How I got to my answer’?

Nica: When you were about to grab that fruit, the Spatzi said ‘go ahead’ to you with a smile and put it on your plate,

N: and so you held a positive association with that fruit, leading you to your answer?

Ring: N-now that you mention it… that might’ve been the case… it was completely unconscious…

Darius: Ahaha, you’re so adorably honest, Ring.

Nica: Well then, it’s about time I guess too. The correct answer is… this chocolate.

N: It’s a bit on the mini side, and it looks cute too, and not to mention the packaging is also intricate. It practically oozes the traits a girl would like.

Kate: Miss.

Nica: Oops, too bad.

As opposed to Ring, who seemed down upon getting his guess wrong, Nika didn’t show any signs of caring, even if he did.

It was as though he knew from the beginning his answer was wrong.

Darius: I would prefer you make a serious guess, or this game will really end up in a bore.

Nica: But I thought long and hard about what girls would like and picked based on that?

N: Besides, this is where a subordinate hands the torch to the master.

Nika gave a smug wink, and Darius shrugged his shoulders in response.

Darius: It seems I bear a great responsibility now. If I’m unable to answer correctly, I’m afraid the little miss fairytale keeper——

D: And Crown as well would be disappointed in me.

Kate: Don’t worry, I won’t be disappointed even if you don’t answer correctly. It’s just a game, after all.

Darius: Hmm, so you believe I won’t get the answer right, is that it?

Kate: That…

(If I’m being completely honest, yes, I did think that.)

(Because the answer to this question is… a bit special.)

Darius: Hehe, seeing you have such low expectations of me makes me want to try my utmost hardest.

D: Alright, I have my answer.

D: I see you were trying not to eat this chocolate cake, right?

D: Because you like it, you saved it for last, I take it. So, my answer is that chocolate cake.

I was about to reply with an immediate ‘miss,’ when he opened his mouth before me.

Darius: …is what a normal person would say, but that would be incorrect.

Kate: Eh…

Darius: The answer to your question is——-

D: ‘Everything here on the table.’

Kate: …That’s a hit.

Ring: A-all of it…!? Is that answer even possible?

Nica: Well, we never established that the said thing had to just be a single thing, so yeah, it’s fully possible.

N: But even so, way to bend the rules there, Spatzi. I didn’t think you had it in you.

N: …You really are an interesting one, aren’t you.

Darius: I did think it was a strange answer, but considering the little miss fairytale keeper’s character, it wasn’t too difficult.

D: Perhaps you thought something like, ‘If I’m preparing something for guests, I would choose the things I believe are the most delicious’… am I right?

Kate: It is as you say…

While consulting with Victor, I chose all of the pastries here.

So, that’s why if I were to choose my most favorite among these, the answer would naturally be ‘everything.’

Kate: It was a bit of an underhanded answer, so I didn’t think you would get it.

Darius: Hehe, but I did. Oh, but, I don’t think it’s underhanded.

D: After all, I take it you thought up of such an answer so that you didn’t have to assign winners and losers, yes?

Kate: Yes, there was also that. Since it was such a fun tea party, I didn’t want to label anyone as winners and losers…

Darius: To see you try to put us on an equal footing without assigning a winner…

D: You truly are sweet to the point it’s cloying… and kind as well.

Ring: B-by the way… will Darius ask her out? O-on a date, that is…!

Darius: Ahh, that nearly slipped my mind. Well, miss fairytale keeper, will you go out on a date with me next time?

Kate: …I will.

I didn’t have much reason to turn him down, and now that I got to talk with them like this, I started to become more interested in the members of Vogel.

(…And going out together with them seems pretty fun too.)

Nica: Okay, then, when you’re done with your date with Dari, let me know, okay? We can plan a date of our own then.

Kate: Eh—

Nica: The prize for the game was the right to ask you out on a date, but there’s no need to hinge something like that on a game, right?

N: Besides, if the answer to the question is ‘everything on the table,’ that would technically make my answer right, too, yeah?

Kate: I… guess so…?

Nica: And you caught my interest too anyway…

N: …Ah, that’s right. Since we’re talking about this, why don’t you invite the Spatzi on a date too, Ring?

Ring: O-on a date…!? I… I’ll pass.

R: …But when you go on your date with Nica and Darius, I’ll tag along behind you guys.

Nica: Wait, why though?

Ring: If she’s around, you’ll let your guards down and lose sight of your surroundings, right?

R: So I’ll cover those bases during your date.

Nica: Ehh…

Darius: Hehe, thank you, Ring.

D: …Hey, miss fairytale keeper. I must say that half a day isn’t nearly enough.

D: Why don’t we take our sweet time chatting on our date, the two of us?

A smile played on Darius’ lips, and I couldn’t look away from his honey-colored eyes.

Just then, I remembered Victor’s words from before I went out.

—— Flashback ——

Victor: Ahh, that’s right, Kate. There’s one thing I should say.

V: If you wish to return to your normal everyday life after this month passes… you mustn’t let your heart get stolen by them.

—— End flashback ——

(It’ll be alright… I think I was able to enjoy this time today when I tried talking to them.)

(This feeling won’t blossom into love. Surely…)

Fin.

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

NOTES:

[0] according to our handy google translate, the title of this story, Liebe geht durch den Magen, translates to “love goes through the stomach.” I assume this may reference or be the equivalent to a similar English saying, “the way to one’s heart is through their stomach.”

[1] “virgin” in German nhdkshfds

[2] and here we have a quote from Wikipedia: Baumkuchen is a kind of spit cake from German cuisine. It is also a popular dessert in Japan. The characteristic rings that appear in its slices resemble tree rings, and give the cake its German name, Baumkuchen, which literally translates to “tree cake” or “log cake”.

[3] originally, I had Rotkehlchen, which is like the literal translation for “robin” as far as I know. Spatzi means “sparrow,” but can be used as a term of endearment in the same way the Crown members call Kate “robin” out of endearment. In his collection story event, he mentions that the word he used is German for robin, but it could be localized to something like “it is a German-equivalent term of endearment for robin.” Thanks to @.citrusmornings for providing this link!

END NOTES: did you enjoy this story? because i know i did, haha. i really enjoy all the vogel characters so far; they all have interesting personalities, and they bounce off each other in a fun way as well.

honestly, i’m still trying to sort of get an idea of how i want to sort of translate and write these characters. overall, though, i tried to give darius a more innocent air, with some hints of his nobility, while also having a strong sort of presence. and i tried to capture nica’s sort of casual and flippant (but also clever and sharp) air, which contrasts with how ring gets shy and flustered pretty easily.

i’d love to hear your thoughts!

full masterlist 🕊️

[bits-and-babs]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

synopsis : photographs from a gangland crime scene just beyond mexico's border send ghost into a spiral. as his superior, you feel it is your duty to bring him down from delirium by any means necessary.

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (colonel)

warnings : 18+ mdni. heavy use of the canon comics, gory imagery, mentions of torture, brainwashing, corpses. ptsd, delusions, simon in a submissive headspace. d/s themes, softdomme!reader, praise kink if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, cumming in pants, i wanted to write simon as a sub so i fucking did. please note this is a fic about using sex to navigate trauma. it will not be for everyone.

ghost masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

He's like a spectre in the back of the briefing room, his shadow looming over the gory photographs spattered over the table and smothering the map beneath them. Snapshots of gruesome, twisted corpses reflect in the honey liquid of his irises, his usually expressive eyes made mute by the ghastliness of the savaged bodies.

Ghost's vast frame appears to shrink the longer he gazes at the glossy, printed pictures. 

Price continues his mission briefing. His forgotten cigar smoulders in the cigarette dish placed haphazardly over the map, ashes building an eminence of embers on the glass platter. His tar-drenched lungs rasp as he talks, gritty voice booming as it ricochets from the walls in the tiny box room. 

"Intel confirms a congregation of armed cartel members just beyond the Mexican borde-…."

Leaning against the wall, Ghost's shadow retreats from the tabletop and slinks back into the corner. He crosses his arms over his vast chest, charcoal grey fleece sleeves pushed to his elbows to expose the ebony ink scrawled across his chalky skin. His scarred knuckles bleach when he tightens his grip on his bicep, silently stewing in his own conviction. 

He knows. 

It's as though you can see them play like a film reel in his gilded irises, flickers of his trauma in Mexico. Ghost's file had been heavily redacted during your time as his equal, reams and reams of black ink ribbons distorting the writing and camouflaging his colourful history. Serving alongside him, you learnt that the SAS Lieutenant approached conversation similarly, censoring himself by remaining relatively silent. 

Since your promotion to Colonel, you had gained access to transparent files and learnt precisely why Simon' Ghost' Riley kept mum about his time in Coahuila… You'd seen those gnarly scars, pink and magenta and silver welts that raised or gouged into the porcelain of his pale skin. Yet, the answer to your concerned queries was always a singular, gentle remark. "Classified." 

Ghost's attempted brainwashing and the ultimate death sentence were confidential. He'd never told you that the scent of the decaying body of his Judas commanding officer, Vernon, had clung to the walls of his nasal cavities for weeks after escaping the coffin. Never revealed the way his hand sunk into the putrefying corpse when he attempted to break his way out of the casket. Wouldn't admit to ripping the jawbone from the rotting carcass to pry open the lid. 

His reason for convalescent leave was also confidential. Extreme temper-management difficulties handing the vulnerable Ghost over to ex-teammates Sparks and Washington and the conclusive massacre of his entire family. Three generations, blown away with a bullet through the skull. 

And the man at the centre of it all, Manuel Roba, stared back at him in the pictures of horrid, mangled, ripped flesh littering the table and pinned to the map. Puncture wounds from being elevated on meat hooks, emaciated following daily meals of mind-altering drugs––

"Riley." 

Ghost's honeyed eyes dart from their fixated aim on the pictures towards Price. Concern furrows the Captain's brow as he observes Ghost's self-preserving body language. "You hearin' me?"

"Loud and clear, sir," Ghost's gruff voice rattles like gravel in his chest. His eyes appear hollow through the gaps in his ski mask, black grease paint making him look particularly gaunt. 

It's a split second, momentary, but Price casts a precautionary glance your way. You know that expression, can translate the concerned crevices on John's face; he knows. 

"... Good Hunting," Captain Price issues his dismissal, pointed looks urging the members of 141 out of the room quickly. The rubber soles of your boots stay rooted to the floor, gaze set on Ghost as the task force leave the conference single file. The Mancunian doesn't budge, his eyes aimed at their target on the table. 

It takes a handful of moments, Gaz and Soap gawping over the brutal torture details and Price urging them both with an insistence to 'shut up' that was far too authoritative for them to ignore. Then, finally, the door swings shut, clicking in place. Ghost blinks at the sound, a minute, barely there flinch that wouldn't register with outsiders, but you notice it. 

Silence creeps through the room and settles between you like a blanket of gunpowder, charged and ready to blow. Ghost's body is tense, oddly postured in an attempt to retain his intense emotions. 

"Ghost." You say his codename, and immediately he moves his head in a slight shake—a silent urge for quiet. He pushes his back from the wall, slowly approaching the table he had glared at for hours. 

"It's him, isn't it? Roba," Ghost's voice is tight with fury, those gravel pieces sounding a lot more like glass shards, "He's come back."

You watch, lungs seizing behind your ribcage when you hear him speak Manuel Roba's name. The vile man had lived like a ghoul amongst Simon's memories, fictitious as long as he remained unmentioned. Talking of him was almost like speaking the behemoth into existence. 

"I know you read the file, Colonel," Ghost spits through gritted teeth, reaching forward to pinch a photograph from the table. You see it, the almost imperceptible tremor in his fingers as he does. "He did this to us- Strung us up like pig carcasses-"

"I understand that you're scared-" You begin your attempt to ease the spiral that Ghost appears to be silently falling into, his almost normal outward appearance betrayed only by microscopic symptoms of panic. 

"I'm not," he insists, agitation edging his tone of voice as he holds up the image of a gutted corpse, "I'm not scared; you're all tip-toein' around this like I'm fuckin' stupid!"

"Riley."

The use of Ghost's surname makes the hulking mass of man stop in his tracks. He swallows the words he holds on his tongue, realising his disrespect to a commanding officer should not, and would not, be tolerated under any circumstance. 

Stepping forward, you gaze right back at the shell-shocked man before you. "Manuel Roba is dead. You killed him. You know this. Shot him right between the eyes."

You demonstrate the bullet trajectory by tapping between your eyebrows with your index finger, triggering a visual for the shaken Ghost to project the image of the slaughtered drug dealer. "The bodies you're seeing are probably a result of his control over the Zaragoza Cartel. Remnants of his fighters lashing out in a last-ditch effort to obtain some power." 

Ghost nods slightly, a singular tilt forward of his head as his hand lowers to his side, fingers loosening their hold on the gory picture so it falls to the ground. He clears his throat awkwardly, eyes following the path of the image as he casts his gilded irises to the floor. You note how vulnerable he looks, flayed raw by his memories and the stalking PTSD that had gripped him without detection.

"You're right. 'M sorry," he lets out a shaky sigh, chest trembling as he attempts to expel the tension in his chest, "Don't know what I was thinkin'."

You dismiss his embarrassment with a wave of your hand. "Don't mention it." 

"How much do you know?" Ghost asks, the question uttered in a whisper. 

You consider his query carefully. A good question. How much did you know? Had the files revealed the total of Ghost's catastrophic timeline from Mexico to Manchester? Or was there still unforeseen information hidden behind censorship walls that even you couldn't worm your way behind at this high a rank?

You're careful in your choice of words, attempting to curb any particular language that could trigger upsetting recollections. "I know Roba used to brainwash you. Drug you. Make you fight."

"And?" Simon urges you onwards, his aureate irises staring coldly at you through the blackness of the grease paint and mask–– awaiting the agonising stab of the truth.  

"He used to offer sex or death as a means of control." You carefully place your palm against his shoulder, a warm and weighty presence to help ground him as you speak. "Attempted to hardwire your brain to find arousal in fear."

Ghost swallows. You see the bob of his Adam's apple beneath the thick material of the ski mask. A minuscule quiver of his eyebrow indicates his inner turmoil, the usually composed and inscrutable Lieutenant Riley slipping away as you peel away each layer of his trauma.

"Do you still? Find arousal in fear?" 

Silence twists your stomach; Ghost's incessant, piercing stare causes the hairs on your forearms to stand up. 

"On your knees, Riley."

"Yes, ma'am."

Simon sinks to his knees, slow and deliberate, in a latent attempt to please you. It's as though Everest has crumbled, its foundations bending beneath its enormous weight. Simon is an unshakeable force, an indomitable summit, yet when his patellas hit the floor, his giant palms meet the edges of your thighs in reverence for you. 

His touch is precious and delicate with its weight–– not as though he's afraid he'll break you, but more like he's trying so hard to earn your favour as his superior. His blonde lashes dip low, heavy-lidded, unable to stand looking at your face when he's laid bare for you like this. 

"Please." When Simon speaks, it's as though the cocktail of gravel and glass shards has excoriated the walls of his throat. It's broken, choked and pitchy as he begs you. "Please."

"Please what, Simon?" You query, maintaining an even, commanding tone. His eyelashes flutter slightly, trembling so prettily for you as arousal floods his spine. 

"Please, ma'am. Can I be of service?" It's spoken through his gritted teeth as though he's mortified that he's voicing these torrid desires, even in the vaguest terms. You slip your naked palm beneath the woven canvas of his mask, clutching his jaw and forcing his face upwards. 

It's amusing, you think, that Simon believes himself unreadable as long as he wears the skull mask. It couldn't be further from the truth. His eyes are so expressive, constantly betraying his innermost thoughts without even exposing the expressions of his visage. 

The probing gaze you offer him has him twitching in his camo cargo pants. You see his thick length bob against the fabric, aroused by the ease with which you read him. 

"Is that what you need, Riley?" It's rhetorical; you both know it. He's never required anything so desperately in his life. Simon had been lost in the Congo jungle without food for weeks and escaped a kidnapping attempt that had him stumble through the Iraqi desert without water, yet he looked at you with those keening eyes as though he'd die without a taste of you. 

"Tell me."

"Yes," he gasps, inhaling sharply as though he'd forgotten to breathe, "Yes, ma'am. Please, I need to tast––"

Simon barely manages to finish his sentence before he pushes his trembling fingers beneath the hem of his mask on his throat, shoving it over the point of his chin and balancing the bunched-up material on the bridge of his nose. He groans out as he fumbles with your khaki belt, unwinding it with great difficulty. 

While Simon busies himself with your zipper, your fingers delicately trace the silvering scars on his throat, many of Manuel Roba's love letters to evil etched into his ivory skin. The files had labelled each laceration and its cause; S2 below his chin issued by a butcher's knife, S5 against his clavicle the product of a dagger during a spar with another brainwashed hostage. You can't help but smile when your fingerprints find S7. 

"S7 - a two-inch superficial scar from a tricycle accident."

A desperate groan rumbles in Simon's chest when he shucks the waistband of your cargo pants over the flesh of your hips. Your hand quickly grasps the edge of the table when he buries his nose against your clothed cunt, your heavy-handedness knocking more of the long-forgotten gory images to the floor. 

"Fuck," Simon exhales, his warm breath fanning across the soaked fabric of your panties. "Thank you, Thank y- fuck."

Your gasp of pleasure catches even you off guard as Simon drags the flat of his tongue against the wetness of your underwear, a groan sneaking from his open mouth as he relishes in the taste. 

"This good, ma'am?" he breathes, hot and heavy against your core. He's desperate to please, a slight flush to the lower half of his cheeks that you can see. It takes you a moment to compose yourself, overwhelmed by the exposed flesh of his face. 

"Yes," you praise him as he uses his fingers to push aside the cotton in his way. "So fucking good for me, Simo-nhgn-" 

The tip of Simon's tongue seems to find your clit almost instantaneously, curling around the sensitive bud and teasing it as though he knew exactly what you needed. His moan is muffled and pathetic against your soaked cunt, lapping at your arousal and drowning himself in you. 

He keens when your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of his shoulder, digging reddening crescent moons into the skin. They blend amongst the charcoal of his tattoo sleeve, but they're there, little arches among the skulls, guns, and warfare. 

Simon paws at the backs of your thighs, spreading the wingspan of his fingers across the curve of your asscheeks and squeezes, using his hold to drag your body impossibly closer to his mouth. He nuzzles in, the tip of his nose teasing at your clit as he sinks the hot, wet flesh of his tongue into your entrance. 

"Hah-" you gasp out, Simon's moan vibrating against your needy clit forcing you to grind forward against his face in search of more friction. Your fingers find purchase in the fabric on the top of Simon's head, curling your knuckles around it but ensuring you don't lift the mask from his face. 

The Lieutenant feels your grazing fingers against his scalp, burying his face further into your pussy as he tastes your arousal from the source. He sighs heavily, shakily into your cunt as he savours the ambrosia on his tongue, greed forcing him in for more–– licking and tasting and sucking and swallowing more of you. 

"So good for me, Simon," you reward him, voice trembling as he assaults your cunt with his probing tongue. He retreats from the soaked flesh of your cunt to tease at your clit again. You can feel your pulse concentrating in it, thudding against his tastebuds. 

"Mhmm," he huffs, vast chest heaving with heavy breaths that add another layer of pleasure to your arousal as they waft over your wet pussy lips. You could cry when you look down at him, his eyelids drooping (one lower than the other thanks to the scar that ran across his left eyelid. "S4 - a superficial scar from a fist fight during detention in Mexico").

A single, calloused palm skirts around your waist, splaying wide across your lower abdomen as Simon feels the muscles beneath his hand tremble and tense at his ministrations. He groans again, his other hand teasing at your pussy lips from behind in a silent plea for entry. 

"Simon- Simon, do it," you urge him, desperate to be filled as he teased at your clit with his nimble tongue. You'd never had guessed a man so intent on disguising his countenance would have the perfect face to sit on. 

"Yes, ma'am," he responds, only momentarily before reestablishing the relentless rhythm of the swipe of his tongue. Then, without much warning, he sinks his index finger into your entrance. A delicate press of his fingertip at first, testing the waters, so to speak. Only when you let out a blissful sigh does Simon continue to ease the digit into you. 

His fingers are so thick. You stretch around him, your head dipping back between your shoulder blades and gasping a curse to the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. The bliss that sweeps through you is overwhelming, toes curling in your combat boots as you attempt to escape the onslaught of pleasure. 

Simon won't let you. 

"Please," he moans in bliss as he pulls you closer again, your feeble body unable to fight his firm control when your limbs are gelatinous and malleable to his whims. 

His cock is bobbing beneath his cargos, a dark patch of precum soaking into the camo print. A flood of arousal drips through you, your eyes rolling back at the realisation that he might fucking cum in his pants, untouched, just with the taste of you.

"S-Simon-" you wail, losing all control as your voice cracks. "Right there-"

God, he ratchets up the intensity of your bliss by sinking another finger into you. It faces no resistance, sliding down to the knuckle with an ease that had you seeing stars when it pushes up against something utterly devastating within your abdomen. 

"There!"

Simon groans around your cunt, lathing his tongue over your throbbing clit with an eagerness that seems so alien for the stoic, unreadable Special Airforce Soldier. His fingers ease in and out of you ever so slightly, rocking back and forth against that mind-numbing spot inside you that has your knees buckling beneath your weight. 

"Oh my g-aha-" you choke on your words, both hands now fumbling to hold onto the table with a white-knuckle grip. Tension curls in the pit of your stomach, twisting and shape-shifting.  

You feel it before you hear it. The vibrations of Simon's desperate groans of bliss rock through your cunt before the sounds reach your ears, his mouth sloppy on your cunt as his own arousal begins to take root. The fingers not buried inside your walls take a bruising grip on your waist, branding you with his prints.  

He notches that paradisical spot inside you one more, and your failing knees quake at the vicious burst of ecstasy it unleashes. You moan loudly, the lewd sound wracking through your body as though Simon had just set off a stun grenade, light bursting through you with a crack. Your hips buck against his chin and nose mindlessly as you ride through the peak of your bliss. 

Simon lets his jaw hang loose, tongue flat as you ride against it— pathetic, utterly disgusting groans of delight drip from his lips as you use him. He pants, and you only just manage to force your eyes open as a particularly pitchy wail of your name to witness his undoing. 

His hips rock forward against nothing, just barely finding friction on the seam of his pants as his orgasm rocks through him. You watch his eyelids flutter and his brows twitch as he cums in his standard-issue military cargos. He slumps back slightly, jaw loose as he sucks in deep breaths. It's utterly unbecoming of someone who appeared so unshakeable, a submissive, needy man taking his place. 

At first, you allow him some space. The forceful inhale and trembling exhale of his lungs tick like a clock, in and out, in and out. Simon's hand delicately smoothes over the flesh of your ankle, a feeble attempt to feel close to you in this moment without overstimulating his vulnerable mind. 

When he lifts those honeyed eyes to you, searching for your comfort, you allow your palms to smooth down the fabric of his ski mask and offer him some privacy, restoring some dignity to the usually stoic Ghost. 

He leans into the weight of your palm for just a second. A barely there moment, like the grip of his biceps from earlier, the twitch of his brow. It fades quickly like his S7 scar, the dripping molasses of his eyes hardening beneath the skull image. 

"Not a word," you order him, tone aggressively authoritarian when you issue your directive. 

Ghost is glad for it, a curt nod of his head indicating his return to lucidity as he begins to rise to his feet. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

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[tobyscloset]

I am going to talk about my favourite things from chaos theory and of course, the downsides, and my personal opinions!! (Opinions based around the benrius/yasammy topic) So major spoilers ahead under the cut!

Goodsides :D

While chaos theory is a kids show, it definitely displays more mature content, something camp cretaceous did not show! This includes blood, and visual character death (Daniel Kons was specifically gruesome), and description of mental issues, this is specifically PTSD, implied depressive states and breakdowns, the show dives deep into the world of surprise, watching it i was shocked in a good way when a scene came up. Kenji's breakdown was perfectly animated and portrayed.

Each character never faded into the background and they were all equally focused on throughout the season. The show also focused on relationships between the campers, and their families. Specifically Sammy's. Each character has their own comical relief line even when in a dangerous situation. The campers never matured, only grew, they stayed themselves and still act as a group! Same way they did on Nublar.

The plot twists are bonkers, I was not expecting the DPW to be up to sketchy business, nor did I expect suddenly blossoming romance between characters. The budget is definitely higher than it was with camp cretaceous, I couldn't tell if some scenes were animated or real. Beautifully portrayed landscapes.

Overall, the show deserved every amazing rating and my personal rating is an 11/10.

Downsides D:

My first itch was the one-sided romance with Darius and Brooklynn. It certainly was a plot twist but I feel that it was absolutely unnecessary and could've been kept platonic. I feel it would be more heartbreaking and deep if Darius sent her voice messages as a friend, telling her that he's sorry and telling her things about his day. That one scene threw me off on the episode, not because I'm an angry benrius shipper but because it very much could've been kept platonic and felt unnecessary, but was written and played into perfectly. I have absolutely no criticism of the actual writing.

(this was talked about on the discord) - It feels like Brooklynn used to be independent and a baddie in camp cretaceous until she started becoming the love interest, and then it felt like she just became dependent on Kenji and unable to do things herself, so I am hoping that if we get a season 2, that we really get to see Brooklynn not be the love interest and work independently. And I genuinely hope that it won't turn out into another klance situation with Brooklynn, because she was super overhated before, and some angry benrius/benji shippers WILL hate her for "getting in the way of a mlm ship", which is not the case.

My last point was with Darius' health. Darius never got that shine through and we really never got to see how he coped with Brooklynn's death or after the island. They show little cracks but never unpack his full health, which I do hope we get to see in future seasons.

Other than those three points, I really do have nothing to criticise because it was perfect.

Personal opinions/hopes on ships :3

I really do hope we get to see more yasammy content specifically how they build up their relationship more, especially comforting scenes like we got in Ben's soggy van. And Sammy telling Yaz about her family not being in contact, and I would really love to see their relationship play out further and elaborate on the family situation!! :)

-

As I autismed a little too hard and have had a hyperfixation on Benrius since 2021(?), it's not to say I didn't have my hopes up for their relationship in chaos theory, but I also can't say that I expected them to be canon. What maybe the directors could've done is provide that teeny bit of fan-headcanons, because from what I've seen, alot of people from the fandom headcanoned Ben as a gay man, so instead of a girlfriend he would've had a boyfriend. Or they could have Ben lie about the girlfriend because he may have worked out he likes boys, and has internalised homophobia. But back to benrius, they had ALOT of chemistry in camp cretaceous, and for me it was a little disappointing that their relationship dwindled down a little. What I am hoping (manifesting) is that Ben realises his feelings for Darius, and has issues coming out to him and confessing.

Despite my opinions and criticism, the show is definitely worth the watch and deserves every thumbs up from the viewers. I thank everyone who worked on chaos theory and put their best effort into it. 11/10 show. Thank you.

[uhohnotthisagain]

Admiring Sam - Headcannon

Time when you admired your boyfriend Sam.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Characters: Sam, Reader, Dean, ghost

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: cuteness?, mentions of sex, mentions of injury, mentions of ghosts, no swearing.

My masterlist

Whilst doing research:

You’re sitting around a table in a motel room, only undressed the top layers of the FBI suits that you, Sam and Dean were wearing whilst investigating the current case. You’re sitting opposite Sam, Dean next to you. 

At first you were concentrating, but then you looked at Sam in the corner of your vision, which lead to him taking up all of your attention. 

You tried to keep looking busy, but with the way he was sitting; shirt sleeve rolled up, hair a mess from running fingers through it, hunched over the computer with a look of concentration on his face. He looked both adorable and hot at the same time. 

Within a few moments, he looks up at you, feeling the holes you were burning into him with your eyes. He smiles at you, which you return with a blush, slightly disappointed you got caught. 

He sneakily reaches under the table undetected by his brother sitting next to him, rubbing your leg as a form of comfort and love. 

In bed: 

You were both resting in bed after having had sex. 

You splurged on your own room, needing some much needed privacy after a semi gruesome hunt. 

You were both laying on your back, the only sound to be heard were yours and Sam’s rapid breathing. His hand was holding yours, gently stroking the back of it with his thumb. 

You turned your head to look at him, taking not of the way his hair splayed out under him. 

He looked relaxed, eyes were closed, trying to control his breathing, an ever so slight smile on his face. 

He opened his eyes, turning his head to look at you. 

His smile widened when he noticed you staring. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

You smile, about to respond when he rolls back over to you, holding himself up on his forearms, dipping his head to kiss you, deepening it almost immediately. 

“Ready for another round?” He asks, grabbing hold of your thighs to wrap around his waist. 

When he’s asleep:

For once, you woke up before Sam. 

He usually woke up before you, going for a run and usually bringing you back a coffee to wake you up with. 

This time, you were awake, so you got to appreciate him without him catching you. 

His breathing was even, face so soft and relaxed. A small amount of stubble had grown overnight. His soft hair had fallen into his face. 

You brushed your finger along his face, moving his hair out of the way. You continued to trace his features, committing his face to memory. You traced over his eyebrows, nose and mouth. Along his jawline and hairline. 

With a sigh, he moves, wrapping his arms more tightly around you waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“You know thats a little creepy, right?” He whispers, eyes remaining closed. 

You chuckle softly, continuing your tracings. “Good morning handsome.”

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

He finally opens his eyes, and you stare into them, getting lost in them almost immediately. 

You already had his eyes committed to memory. 

When he saves you:

You’re in and out of consciousness, laying on the floor, unable to move. 

It was a ghost, and despite having already burned the body, it hadn’t disappeared. 

It had attacked you, after running out of rocksalt in your gun. 

“Y/N! Are you okay?” You heard from nearby

You groaned in response, nodding slightly to allow whoever it was to keep fighting and not worry about you. 

As your vision clears, you see Sam looking all around, trying to find the ghost to keep it away from you. 

Finally, as it appeared right in front of Sam, it burst into flames, screaming in the process. 

Sam rushes to you, inspecting all your injuries and determining whether to take you to the hospital or home. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to get you to stay awake. 

“I think so, I just need a minute.” You say, trying to sit up. 

“Guys, so it was a doll that the spirit was attached to. But there was like a hundred dolls, so we need to go now if we don’t want to get caught on fire.” Dean rushes in. 

“Can you walk?” Sam asks, you shake your head. 

He picks you up bridal style, Dean following quickly behind with the weapons you and Sam had dropped. 

Once at the car, Sam gets in the back with you, wanting to make sure you were ok. 

“I think its just some bruises and a small concussion, you should be alright.” He says, stroking your hair as you lean against him. 

You look up towards him, giving a small kiss to his jawline. “Thank you. I love you.” 

“Anytime, beautiful.”

Dean groans from the front seat. “Get a room you two.” Sam rolls his eyes, but you spot the small smile on Dean’s face in the rearview mirror, happy to see his brother getting the love he deserves. 

[lendeah]

The currents of destiny

Chapter 1: The present.

Requested by @tinystarfishgalaxy! Thank you very much🤍🫶🏻

Summary: "I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming." Astarion's life takes a dark turn following his encounter with Cazador, as his lover Tav refuses to help him ascend. Left to face the aftermath of his choices, Astarion seeks understanding in his new reality. In his search for answers, he meets a seer named G'axir, who offers him glimpses into three different paths his life could take: his future as an Ascended Vampire, his future alone, and a future next to Tav. Now, Astarion must decide which path to follow before it's too late. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader. Word Count: 2.9k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

Next chapter ->

[AO3 Link]

The air reeks of death and blood, the stench heavy and suffocating. Cazador's lifeless body lies in a pool of his own blood, a gruesome sight that only fuels Astarion's anger. His entire body trembles with rage, years of pent-up frustration boiling over.

He had lost everything - the chance to turn the ritual and become the most powerful Vampire, the chance to get back all he lost, the chance to be completely free.

And it was all because of her.

"Astarion?" Her voice quivers with fear as she approaches him cautiously. Turning to face her, his once handsome features contort into a twisted mask of fury.

"You," he growls, his voice dripping with venom. "You betrayed me."

Her body recoils at his accusation, but he pays no mind. The only thing he can see is red, consumed by a blazing fire of betrayal and pain.

"I only wanted what was best for you," she pleads, tears welling in her eyes.

"You had no right!" he bellows, making her flinch again. "This was my last chance!"

"Do you think I wanted to do this?" she cries, her voice breaking. "I did it for you, Astarion. It would have turned you into the very thing you despise."

His lips curl into a sneer and his fangs glint in the dim light. "Oh, spare me your platitudes," he scoffs. "You always did have a way with words, didn't you? You professed your love for me, claiming that my happiness was all you desired and that you would do anything to ensure it. Well, congratulations, now you've sealed my fate with disgrace."

The pain in her eyes fuels Astarion's anger even more.

"Please Astarion. I didn't mean..." she pleads desperately.

"But you did it," he seethes, baring his sharp fangs in anger. "You've taken everything from me."

"Please, let's go home," she begs, tears streaming down her face. "We can figure out a way together."

"Home?" Astarion laughs bitterly. "I have no home anymore."

She flinches at his words and takes a step back, fear evident in her eyes. The pain cut deep in his heart, leaving behind an irreparable wound. How could he have been so naive? To blindly put his trust in someone who would turn their back on him in his darkest hour? The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, shattering the remains of his shattered heart into dust.

"I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming," he spits before walking away, leaving her behind in a pool of regrets and broken promises. He could hear her heart-wrenching cries as he left, but the anger and pain inside of him only led him further away from her.

-

The moon cast a faint glow over the dark streets of the city as Astarion walked, his mind consumed with seething anger. The sound of his own footsteps echoed through the empty alleyways, mingling with the distant chatter of late-night revelers. People turned to look at him, their gazes lingering on the blood stains that still marred his body. He couldn't bring himself to care, his thoughts completely fixated on the scene that had played out in front of him. He didn't even know how long he had been wandering for, only that the night was growing darker and colder. He had no destination in mind, his feet taking him wherever they pleased as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

Over and over again it replayed in his mind; the knife plunging into Cazador's chest, the man's pained cries echoing in the stone walls of the basement, and the remaining silence after his lifeless body hit the floor. With each repetition, Astarion's anger only grew. How dare he make him feel 200 years of torture, only to feel a mere minute of pain before dying? It wasn't fair. He deserved to feel the pain tenfold, to suffer for eternity just as Astarion had.

As he made his way down the street, his mind couldn't help but drift to Tav. The mere thought of her brought a mix of emotions - anger, hurt, and longing. She had betrayed him, yet her words still echoed in his head, pleading for him to understand. He couldn't deny the love he had once felt for her, but he also couldn't shake the pain she had caused him. Was it all truly for his sake?

Finally reaching a secluded spot on the beach, he sank down onto the sand. It hit him suddenly - he was truly alone once more. There was no one to lean on, no one who could truly understand and accept him for who he was. But he didn't want anyone either. People were fickle creatures; they could betray you in an instant without a second thought.

The waves crashed against the shore, a soothing rhythm that did little to calm Astarion's racing thoughts. He let out a scream of frustration as he punched the sand beneath him. His knuckles burned with pain, but it was nothing compared to the searing rage consuming him. With a groan of agony, Astarion let himself fall back onto the sand. The cold grains offered no comfort as he lay there staring up at the dark sky above. The stars seemed to taunt him with their twinkling, a reminder that he was completely and utterly alone in this vast, uncaring universe.

And then, as if on queue, a figure appeared in his peripheral vision. Astarion's head snapped to the side, his eyes locking onto the man who had suddenly appeared beside him. The moonlight revealed the wrinkles on his face, adding depth and shadow to his features. His long white hair flowed from underneath a robe that reached down to his feet, and in his hand, he held a staff. He exuded an aura of wisdom and age.

Astarion sat up, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger that wasn't there. Of course he had left his weapons behind. He eyed the stranger warily, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

"Who are you?" Astarion asked.

"I am recognized by myriad titles... yet for you... 'G'axir' will suffice," the old man replied with a gentle smile. "I have observed your journey... for quite a while"

He narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was some kind of trap. He had learned the hard way to trust no one, especially not strangers who appeared out of nowhere in the dead of night.

"Watching me?"

G'axir nodded. "Your destiny is ensnared in shadows... since you first rose from your grave."

Astarion felt a chill run down his spine. How could this stranger possibly know anything about his past?

"I'm afraid I have little patience for riddles tonight," Astarion said as he stood up and brushed off the sand from his clothes. "I'll be on my way now."

But as he turned to leave, G'axir quickly reached out to grab Astarion's arm. What in the sweet hells?

"You... are a light entering darkness. You... are a seeker of truths. You... are more than you realize," G'axir replied cryptically. "The Seer has spoken it because the Seer knows the fear you harbor."

Astarion's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the old man's words. How could he have secrets buried within himself? He thought he knew himself well enough, especially after living for 200 years.

Astarion couldn't help but roll his eyes in disbelief. "Oh, stop with the theatrics, I don't have any spare money, if that's what you are seeking."

G'axir shook his head. "Your life... is in the balance. Act wisely, act judiciously..."

Astarion yanked his arm away from the old man's grasp. "Must we continue with this tiresome charade? State your purpose and leave me be," he demanded, his voice shaking with fury.

G'axir's expression remained calm and serene, unfazed by Astarion's outburst. "I stand as your guide... offering wisdom to illuminate your path and aid you on your journey..."

Astarion scoffed, his usual sarcastic wit dripping from every word. "Please, I'm perfectly capable of navigating this world on my own. No need for any pesky guidance or assistance," he declared with a sour grin. "I've already had my fill of unwanted help today, thank you very much."

"The path ahead of you... is treacherous and filled with darkness," G'axir said solemnly.

Astarion scoffed. "Well, I've been living in the darkness for 200 years. I can handle it."

"But... can you handle the light... that could await you?" G'axir asked.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at the old man's question. Handle the light? What did that even mean?

"What light?" Astarion asked skeptically.

"The light... of truth and understanding," G'axir replied enigmatically. Astarion felt a twinge of curiosity stir within him despite his reluctance to believe anything this old man said.

"Why should I trust you? You could be deceiving me in an attempt to abduct me, or something," Astarion said suspiciously.

G'axir nodded in understanding. "In the dance of shadows where deceit finds solace, one who has waltzed through its embrace grows cautious of fellow wanderers. Yet, heed my words — I harbor no malevolent intentions directed toward you."

Astarion warily watched G'axir, but as the old man's gentle gaze met his own, he felt himself start to relax. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about G'axir that made him feel safe and at ease. It was almost like an aura surrounding him that emitted a sense of calmness.

A moment of silence passed between them before Astarion finally spoke up again.

"So what now? Are we having a psychic reading? Should I start handing over my palm and tea leaves for you to predict my future?"

"I do not need a crystal ball to see your future... for it is already written in the stars."

Astarion raised an eyebrow. "The stars?"

G'axir's smile widened. "All things, including yourself... are interwoven within the fabric of the celestial bodies... that have perennially molded the contours of our destinies."

Astarion rolled his eyes, not wanting to entertain the idea that his fate was predetermined by some cosmic forces. "You're telling me that my entire life has been planned out for me?" he scoffed.

G'axir shook his head gently. "Your will remains untethered, and the ability to sculpt your own fate lies within your grasp... The stars merely cast their luminous gaze, imparting guidance... and revealing glimpses of the myriad possibilities that unfold before you."

Astarion mulled over G'axir's words, unsure of whether he believed in them or not. However, he couldn't deny the feeling of intrigue and curiosity that continued to grow within him.

"Let's say I entertain this absurd idea for a moment," Astarion said skeptically. "What do the stars have to say about my bright, shining future?"

"Lay down... Let the whispers of the universe... respond to the questions lingering... in the silence of the night."

Astarion hesitated for a moment before laying down on the ground, looking up at the sky above, where the stars seemed to be laughing at him.

"Shut your eyes and... attune your senses... to the rhythmic cadence of your breath," G'axir instructed, his voice calm and soothing.

Astarion did as he was told, taking deep breaths and attempting to clear his mind. He could hear G'axir's soft chanting in the background, lulling him into a state of relaxation.

As he focused on his breathing, he could feel his body levitating, as if he were leaving this reality. When Astarion opened his eyes again, he found himself floating in the vast expanse of darkness and stars. Panic gripped his chest as he struggled to understand what was happening.

"What is this? Where am I?" Astarion yelled, his voice echoing into the void.

"You are in the realm between consciousness and the stars," G'axir's voice answered calmly.

Astarion turned around and saw G'axir floating next to him. He was still chanting softly, his eyes closed in concentration.

"This is impossible!" Astarion exclaimed, feeling a mix of fear and awe.

Astarion looked around, taking in the breathtaking sight of millions of stars twinkling in the void. He couldn't believe that he was actually flying among them.

"Is this real or just an illusion?" he asked, still not fully trusting G'axir's words.

"It is as real as you want it to be," G'axir replied cryptically.

G'axir's chanting grew louder as he reached out and took Astarion's hand. "There are cities below cities, dreams beneath dreams, the present laying buried beneath the crushing weight of the future... let me show you..."

As their surroundings blurred and twisted, the sky seemed to distort itself and reveal...the Elfsong tavern?

The image of the place had a hazy quality, as if they were viewing it through a smudged window.

"What are we doing here?" Astarion asked, but when he turned to see G'axir, the man was gone.

He was in the middle of the place, so familiar after the many days and nights spent here with his companions. The sound of merry chatter and clinking glasses filled the air, along with the tantalizing aroma of hearty meals being cooked. Astarion stood in the middle of the bar, his heart pounding with confusion and fear.

G'axir's words echoed in his mind... "the present lying buried beneath the crushing weight of the future." Was this a glimpse of the future? Of the present? Or maybe just an illusion?

If this was a glimpse into the present, then his companions had to be... Astarion's heart raced as he quickly climbed the stairs to the grand bedroom where they had been living for the past few weeks. When he reached the top, he burst into the room.Astarion could see his companions huddled together in a corner, but they showed no signs of seeing or hearing him. As he observed them, an overwhelming sense of dread filled his stomach. Familiar faces surrounded him: Halsin, Gale, Wyll, Yaheira, and Lae'zel. They stood in a circle, their expressions serious as they whispered amongst themselves. But one person was missing - Tav. He tried to call out to them, but his voice was nonexistent. It slowly dawned on him that he wasn't actually present in this moment, at least not physically. His spirit had been transported to this place, a mere observer in a realm beyond the physical world.

Suddenly, he spotted a figure huddled separately from the group. His heart rattled in his ribcage as he realized. "Tav?"

Her hair fell like a curtain around her face, obscuring what he could see of her expression. But it was unmistakable - the once fiery and headstrong leader was now slumped onto the cold ground, whimpering into her hands. Underneath a velvet curtain in a darkened corner of the room, she sat, knees drawn up to her chest, tears streaming down her face. Next to her Shadowheart was attempting to offer consolation through soft words.

Even though Astarion couldn't hear what she whispered to Tav, he saw her hand reach out to comfort the devastated woman. But Tav recoiled from her touch like it was a burning ember.

"Maybe if I had done it he wouldn't have left," Tav was whispering between sobs.

"You know that would have killed him on the long run! We did what had to be done to protect him and you know it."

"No, no..." he muttered, "this can't be..."

Astarion felt his own heart shatter at the sight. He took a step towards them but stopped himself, remembering the impossibility of the situation. He couldn't touch her, couldn't comfort her.

"Do you think he meant it?" Tav said, suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"That he hopes I die screaming." Tav's voice cracked as tears threatened to spill from her eyes once again.

Shadowheart's surprised eyes met hers. "He didn't mean it, Tav... You know how Astarion gets when he's upset."

But Tav shook her head, her face drained of color and desperation evident in her tone. "He meant every word," she whispered, barely audible. "I could see it in his eyes." After a shaky breath, she added with a hint of resignation, "And part of me wishes I would too."

Each word she spoke felt like a physical blow, causing Astarion's chest to tighten and his heart to ache. He watched helplessly as her voice cracked with resignation, her head dropping onto his shirt in defeat. His shirt. Shit.

"No, please..." he pleaded. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Astarion's heart ached at her words, but he couldn't deny the truth in them. He had said some unforgivable things to Tav in the heat of the moment, fueled by anger and hurt. Deep down, a part of him had wished for her to suffer just as he was suffering. But seeing her like this, broken and in pain, made him realize the gravity of his actions. He never wanted for her to actually die. Hells, he was so deeply in love with her that the mere thought of anything happening to her was unbearable.

He took a step closer, wanting to comfort her somehow. But he was trapped in this surreal vision, unable to reach out and mend the shattered pieces of their relationship.

Slowly, the vision began to fade, the colors blurring into the darkness. Astarion felt himself growing lighter, pulled back from the vision.

"No, wait! Tav!"

The Elfsong tavern phased out and he was back in the expanse of starry darkness. His heart pounded in his chest as he processed what he had just witnessed. He wanted to go back, to somehow fix the damage he had caused.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before him in a flash of light. It was G'axir.

"You," Astarion growled as he stepped forward aggressively, "What have you done? Bring me back!"

G'axir held up a hand placatingly. "You have glimpsed... into the unfolding tapestry of the now" G'axir stated cryptically "Behold... now your vision shall traverse the myriad paths of potential futures."

Next chapter ->

[ppnuggie]

　　　　　　XENOMORPH KING x gn reader

　　　　『　king ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> xeno king hcs | meeting him

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, yautjas are in this universe ,, featuring my ocs panther (yautja talked abt later on in the hcs) & king (the xenomorph ,, briefly mentioned)

　　— here are the hcs :D this is kinda somewhat an introduction to meeting king and more hcs will come soon ,, introducing his brothers of sort ,, im making their refs slowly 😭😭🫡 so hopefully those will be up before i decide to actually turn these hcs into a story n stuff

| • it was an assignment from your higher ups ,, heading to a lesser known "shake and bake" colony located on a distant planet where the habitable zone was way out from the sun surprisingly

| • usually habitable zones for planets would be in the middle ,, but this one was farther out ,, though it also made it more dangerous to be on

| • the winters were hot and the summers were cold ,, temperatures would get quite extreme but for the most part humans could somewhat live on there

| • you were sent with a team of two other scientists ,, along with an android ,, to examine and study the planet more

| • it was on one of your more routinely walks and expeditions around the more countryside of the planet that you stumbled upon something that hadnt been picked up before by scanners or drones

| • abandoned and trashed ,, a lab that was quite dark and gruesome to look at stood in the middle of nowhere on the barren planet

| • you werent too sure of what happened there ,, though it was evident it wasnt anything good judging by all the dried up liquid stains ,, the broken glass and scratches all over the wall

| • some of the furniture and walls looked melted ,, like somewhat poured lava on it and left it there

| • alone on this expedition ,, you took your notes and marked the location on a map of the planet ,, making a mental note to come back soon

| • the more you looked around the more frightening and on edge you became ,, finding skeletal remains of creatures you werent too sure what they were

| • vials were stored away in a broken down freezer ,, or you assumed so based on their labels in an unknown language and strange color

| • there were vials with many strange colors ,, making you second guess if it even was blood inside them ,, vials storing blue and green and orange

| • none looked indigenous ,, as the most the planet had to offer were these strange rodents that burrowed in the ground most the time ,, almost like those naked molerats from your own home planet ,, except these ones werent as terrifying to look at

| • though the more on edge you became the more curious you got ,, wondering what happened here exactly

| • documents were spilt on the ground ,, scattered about and dirtied up ,, some ripped apart and some with strange prints on them

| • without much of a second thought you took them ,, hoping that maybe you could decode the foreign language and figure out what was happening in this place before it became abandoned

| • you gathered what you could of the place ,, taking a few of the vials and gathering photo evidence of the area

| • while doing so ,, you werent aware of the fact you were being watched ,, stalked and observed by an unknown creature in the vicinity

| • when you got back to the base and showed your findings your crewmates were interested ,, the android apart of your team quickly recognizing the language in the documents

| • it belonged to these creatures called 'yacht-ja' ,, or something of those sorts ,, but he wasnt able to provide much else about the documents other than that

| • you planned to go back to the lab the next week ,, wanting to gather as much information on the area as you could before you left the planet and headed back to the mothership

| • after all ,, you were here for only research and study ,, all your findings on the planet would be taken back aboard the mothership for examination and peer review from other scientists aboard

| • the goal was to gather as many samples as possible ,, document as much as you could ,, and return to your station to head to another planet and repeat the process

| • packing a large lunch in case you stayed longer than expected ,, or did too much running around and had little food ,, you headed off back towards the lab with storage for as much information and to store as many samples as possible

| • your camera was ready ,, taking as many pictures as you could whilst also grabbing more vials from the lab itself ,, storing them away in your vehicular device to take back

| • you didnt pay too much attention to the time ,, more focused and fascinated with the lab around you ,, documenting all the rooms and trying to map out exactly how big it was

| • though something about the place did feel uneasy ,, almost like you werent meant to be here at all in the first place

| • not focusing too much on the feeling you continued ,, going through all the documents and photographing the bright green stains on the wall from who knows what

| • there were a few times you thought you saw something in the corner of your eye ,, almost like a figure yet when you looked there was nothing there ,, like a ghost was playing tricks on you

| • the longer you stayed ,, the more uneasy and skeptical you became of the place ,, not feeling the once comforting and interest as last week

| • when you had finished you gathered your equipment to head back to the base ,, noticing how cold and dark it had gotten and hoping you'd be back in time before the base was put on a lockdown for the night ,, usually for safety precautions as not much was known about the nightlife on the planet

| • unbeknownst to you the scene you would come back to ,, a foreign ship not of any human making was perched ontop of some of the houses whilst the rest of the place was up in flames

| • those yautja creatures you'd been told about earlier had visited ,, wreaking havoc wherever they went as they quickly went through all the humans living there ,, killing them quickly

| • with the base nowhere in sight you didnt bother sticking around ,, heading away from the place and into the countryside once again

| • though it wouldnt help ,, being followed by one of the creatures as they latched onto your vehicle and slashed at the metal and tires ,, quickly putting an end to your escape a few miles away

| • dark skin clashed well with his bright purple stripes ,, large scar over his eye and covering his body in general ,, with a bright colored chest

| • he didnt stare for too long before trying to get at you ,, chittering something in his language as he slashed away at your windows

| • adrenaline filled you ,, now positioned in a fight or flight situation and your gut told you to flee at that moment ,, crawling over the passenger seat and exiting out the door as you made a run for it into a nearby forest

| • it wasnt too difficult for the yautja to keep up ,, right on your tail as he ran after you

| • though his chase would be cut short ,, a large creature coming from out of the bushes and tackling him

| • too worried you'll be next ,, you didnt bother to stop and look back ,, continuing to run even though your legs burned and your lungs were on fire from how much cold air you were breathing

| • somehow you ended up at that same lab ,, almost like it was tied to you now that youve discovered it

| • it felt like a scene from coraline ,, where she walks away from the house and towards where the old well would be except it all turns white

| • though there wasnt no white barren land here ,, just the same abandoned lab

| • you weren't complaining though ,, as you'd rather be somewhere sheltered than out in the open ,, making your way through the maze of rooms and hallways before settling in a far away one

| • you collapsed to the floor ,, panting heavily as you shivered ,, sweat gathered at your forehead from the running and sudden near death experience

| • your eyes felt heavy ,, drowsy and exhausted yet you stayed awake ,, keeping guard and not trusting yourself to sleep in this place ,, not when there was too much happening

| • without your knowing ,, you had fallen asleep and left defenseless in the room ,, the creature that had taken out the yautja had followed you there

| • it gazed at your sleeping form ,, noticing your unconscious shivering and making a decision in its mind

| • curling its tail around your body ,, warmth slowly started to surround your body ,, somewhat ceasing your shivering

| • it could only wait for you awaken ,, resting its head on the cold ,, harsh ground as it kept you company through the night

[whumpsday]

3 whumpy anime to check out this spring!

Go Go Loser Ranger is a heroes vs. villains anime where the villains are the good guys and the heroes are downright evil. Having wiped out all the powerful monsters more than a decade ago, the heroes keep the weakest monsters captive, to parade around and torment on a weekly basis while the public believes otherwise. Because they're immortal when hit with most weapons, they'll always reform to be hurt over and over again, despite feeling all the pain.

Footsoldier D is one of those weak monsters, an immortal shapeshifter made of dust, called a "duster". After escaping the heroes' arena, he forms a plan to kill the heroes and steal the few weapons they have that can permanently kill dusters, freeing the rest of his kind. Given that he has the constitution of a porcelain doll, he can't use strength to fight: he has to rely on wits, stealth, shapeshifting (despite knowing very little about humans or the outside world), and a shaky alliance with a double-agent ranger who seems to be taking advantage of him for her own gain.

Whump tags: villain whumpee, hero whumper, immortal whumpee

Watch it on Hulu, Disney+, or any unofficial anime site.

And if you don't have time to check out a whole anime, the Go Go Loser Ranger opening theme video is also really good, with fantastic visuals symbolizing D's struggles!

An Archdemon's Dilemma is a romantic comedy stuffed to the brim with popular whump tropes. Zagan is a demonic sorcerer who attends an auction for the possessions of another recently-killed sorcerer, when he sees that one of those "possessions" is an elf slave, Nephelia. Having had a destitute, harsh past himself, he feels a rush of sympathy and buys her way out, vowing to ensure her safety. However, Nephelia is terrified, believing she's about to be used as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual. And unfortunately for both of them, Zagan is a socially awkward loser who sucks at communicating.

It's surreal seeing something that looks like it could be a caretaker-new-master whump fic as an actual, fully-realized anime. It definitely doesn't take itself too seriously despite the premise, leaning heavily on the "comedy" part of romantic comedy, and is mostly just a silly time with lots of whump-adjacent stuff thrown in. Fanfic-y to the point of "there's only one bed" being an actual line.

Whump tags: fantasy slavery (very pet-whump-esque in its tropes), caretaker new master

Watch it on Crunchyroll or any unofficial anime site.

The Grimm Variations is an anthology of horror retellings of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales. With each episode being written and directed by different people, it varies wildly in quality, with episodes ranging from laughably bad to incredibly good, but I'm here to talk about episode 2: Little Red Riding Hood.

The Little Red Riding Hood takes place in a dystopian future where the upper and middle class use virtual reality technology to augment their reality. One man, Grey, is tired of this and craves the real: specifically, the feeling of real blood spraying him as he murders countless women, his wealth and connections protecting him from consequences. But when this serial killer makes the mistake of targeting a woman called Scarlet, he finds himself on the other side of the knife. This episode is a complete and utter gorefest with multiple onscreen torture scenes.

This isn't even my favorite episode of the series, it's like my 3rd favorite. But episode 2 is the one with the gruesome torture scene, so it's the one that goes in this post.

Little Red Riding Hood whump tags: whumper-turned-whumpee, torture, gore

Little Red Riding Hood warnings: sexual assault, eye gore, fingernail gore, violence against women, major character death

Watch it on Netflix or any unofficial anime site. Orrrr if you just wanna watch the big torture scene without any of the context, it's on Youtube.

that's all I have for now :)

(P.S: Dungeon Meshi, while not really whumpy as a whole, is also currently airing and very very good and I might write whump fanfic for it at some point in the near future. Netflix or any unofficial anime site.)

[randomly--accessed--memories]

60s Mindbreak:

I imagine Velvette would still be capable of extending empathy to people outside her friend group (since she doesn’t have Vox and Val encouraging her to lose her humanity). 

[She does fantasize of killing Niffty and usurping her title as The Fashion Overlord though, but I don’t think this Velvette is hardened enough to kill anyone.]

Niffty forces all her employees to wear exclusively 50s fashion, Velvette despises this! 

Would Velvette try out the Hotel and be a guest alongside Angel Dust? (Unless Val is dead and Angel’s doing Hell knows what.)

The friend group of Velvette, Angel Dust, and Cherri Bomb sounds kinda fun. 

-=-=-=-

Another way to interpret this is as a roleswap:

For whatever reason Alastor doesn’t target Husk, so Husk gets to keep being the Gambling Overlord. 

Since Valentino doesn’t have Vox to keep his temper in check he got into trouble he couldn’t get out of (maybe that’s how his antenna is damaged in this AU). He’s forced to sell his soul to Alastor for survival. 

This Valentino isn’t as terrible a piece of garbage as cannon!Val since Al snatched him up before he could commit his worst actions. 

Valentino is a lot less impulsive than his cannon counterpart (though still impulsive). He’s pretty bitter and somber here. That fire in him was snuffed out. I imagine he would become a chain smoker to cope.   

-/-/-/- 

Maybe without Valentino dragging him down Angel Dust becomes the Overlord of the movie/porn industry (with a mafia flavoring to all of it) instead. Then he could join up with Husk and Niffty to become this AUs equivalent of the Vees. (What would their name be? I’m not sure if you could make a good acronym with A/D, H, & N. Maybe a word relating to their themes? Fashion, gambling, and mafia/movies. Bug, cat, and spider)

-/-/-

I know it would be unlikely, but I think it would be sweet if Velvette, Valentino, and Vox still end up being friends. 

Valentino could act as a sorta mentor to Velvette, like cannon Husk and Angel Dust (minus the romance). 

Him and Vox and kinda friends, he finds him endearing most of the time. (Vox has a giant crush on him, Val is oblivious to it).

Velvette likes showing off modern tech to Vox, who’s in absolute awe of it all! After Velvette and Valentino find out what Alastor did to Vox they become fiercely protective of him (like Vaggie in regular RAM).

Random thoughts

Velvette would probably end up at the hotel, but not of her own free will. In Vel's opinion, redemption isn't possible and she's got a pretty sweet gig as an overlord's personal assistant/favorite model, but when Niffty "asks" her to go spy on what's going on in there, she doesn't have much of a choice.

Velvette still goes by her sinner name, but Niffty always calls her "Vicky/Vicki." It's a manipulation tactic she uses on all of her employees/contractees; using their human names in order to create a sense of intimacy and reinforce the "big, happy family" thing she's going for. Velvette's not a fan.

Niffty probably isn't as fixated on the 50s in this scenario since fashion is all about staying up-to-date. She still enjoys incorporating retro motifs into her designs though. Velvette's stuck with a pair of cat eye glasses that she thinks are tacky as hell (aaaaand now I'm reminded of HellSerVants).

Oof, Val would not be having a good time under Alastor. Husk's smart and levelheaded enough that I don't think Alastor's ever done anything truly gruesome to him, but Val such a defiant, overly sexual loudmouth that I feel like Al probably spent the first decade or so of their contract disciplining him. That's probably how his antenna got fucked up in this scenario and I'm not sure his wings would be long for this world either. He's been with Alastor and Vox for between 20-50 years though, so he's learned how to behave himself by the time of the main story (at least when Alastor's around). But yeah, Val's pretty miserable, although his real personality occasionally manages to shine through (for better and for worse).

I think I prefer the Mafia Overlord Angel to Porn/Sex Work Overlord Angel. Maybe he took over his dad's syndicate after he died (either by Angel's hand or someone else's).

I don't think Niffty, Husk, and Angel would form a formal partnership in the same way as the Vees (I think that's something sort of unique to Vox among other overlords), but maybe they're casual allies/friends here.

Vox and Val have an interesting relationship. Val never knew the "real" Vox since he was broken before Val even arrived in Hell, but he ends up growing fond of him nonetheless. He thought Vox was sort of pathetic and annoying when they first met, but as the years go on, Val starts to notice traces of the person Vox used to be ("Oh. You're bad.")– the person he'd fall in love with under different circumstances. By the time they end up at the hotel, they're pretty good friends (Val might've even been the one to give Vox a place to stay after Alastor went MIA (or he could've just bounced around in the grid for seven years, either works)). Val eventually comes to resent Alastor for robbing him of the opportunity to meet the original Vox, although he can still see the value in the one that exists now.

Vox is conflicted over having feelings for both Valentino and Alastor. He knows he can't ever pursue things with Al, but it still feels like a betrayal to have a crush on someone else. He doesn't talk about it, but it's something that's obviously going on in the background with him.

The Vees finding each other in every universe and becoming friends at the hotel would be super sweet. Velvette wasn't anticipating making friends at all, let alone with these two weirdos, but she's glad she did.

[mercillery]

Falling Devil Yandere Alphabet

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + YANDERE THEMES + HUMAN READER + MENTIONS OF CANNIBALISM + NOT PROOFREAD + AT SOME POINT I JUST GAVE UP + OOC I THINK OOPS

NOTES: I literally watched Shrek, Hotel Transylvania, and Ninja turtles 1 and 2 while making this. It’s ridiculous how easily I get distracted when writing but whatever.

A = Affection (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

She may have existed since the beginning of time—I forgot whether this was implied or theorized—but I think someone like her is resistant to influence. let alone by such powerful emotions as love or obsession, or in this instance, both...

Thus, she finds herself engulfed in the boundless depths of her obsessive love for you, a sensation she embraces wholeheartedly. She revels in the overpowering emotions she feels, expressing her affection through tangible acts of care—such as babying you. You could say she embodies the role of a devoted butler or caregiver. While she also yearns to demonstrate her affection by preparing meals for you, she respects your aversion to the idea of consuming human food—since you’re literally a human yourself.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?)

For someone typically so polite and mature, she won't hesitate to spill blood in your name if necessary.

Key word: If

If anyone or anything dares to come between you and her or threatens your safety, she will paint every corner of the earth with their blood and guts. There is no force on earth, in heaven, or in hell that she will allow to endanger you or her relationship with you. So, if you wish to avoid a gruesome bloodshed, you better remove that person yourself before she takes matters into her own hands. With that being said, she takes both your safety and the sanctity of your relationship with her extremely seriously.

C = Cruelty (How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?)

No, she would not mock or make fun of you in any way. There's not much to elaborate on here. Just know that she won't make you feel bad for being so easily abducted by her. On the contrary, she’ll only express her pleasure and satisfaction that you’re finally with her. She'll gently caress your teary cheeks, her touch tender but completely dismissive of your tears, focusing solely on the joy she feels at finally having you all to herself.

D = Darling (Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?)

I have a strong feeling that she likes to baby you a lot. Do you know what this means?

This means that she'll hover over you, constantly attending to your every need as if you're incapable of managing on your own. Each morning, instead of allowing you the autonomy to dress yourself, she takes charge, dressing you in outfits she deems the cutest. It's akin to a child's intense fixation on their cherished doll, with her playing the role of the child and you, unwittingly, cast as the doll. It's a twisted dynamic where her sense of power is derived from your perceived reliance on her, blurring the lines between caregiver and captor.

To add to that, her control extends beyond mere clothing choices. Understanding your human needs, she recognizes the necessity of regular meals for your well-being. However, unfortunately for you, her culinary expertise lies in cooking humans for sustenance. Despite this, she will persistently coax you into sampling her cuisine, assuring you that it is as delectable as any other meat. But don’t worry, she refrains from actually preparing the meal unless you explicitly express a desire to try it. And should you muster the courage to taste her food, it's important that you maintain a facade of enjoyment, for the consequences of expressing your dislike for the dish she so lovingly prepared for you are dire. In essence, she wouldn’t force you to eat her dishes—but if you express wanting to try them, you better finish it all.

E = Exposed (How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?)

She's not particularly emotive, nor does she wear her feelings on her sleeve. It's not that she's ashamed of her emotions—she simply tends to maintain a cool and composed demeanor most of the time. However, since she's fallen deeply in love with you, she has no qualms about revealing the extent of her love. The only emotion she may hesitate to display around you is her anger. Nevertheless, she'll willingly show you her vulnerability.

F = Fight (How would they feel if their darling fought back?)

Honestly? The first few times you rebel against her, she'll stay composed, not lashing out at you. However, if you start fighting against her consistently…

She’ll be offended. Very offended.

She's given you all her patience, tolerance, love, and support—and this is how you repay her? By infuriating her with your constant disobedience? How disrespectful of you! She isn't one to tolerate such defiance. You've tested her limits, and now you must face the consequences. Prepare for some very strict scolding from the chef herself.

G = Game (Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?)

Absolutely, this isn't a game to her, not in the slightest. She doesn't joke about this—her relationship with you is far from anything resembling a game. She regards the relationship with the utmost importance and doesn't even entertain the thought of trivializing it as such.

You're sorely mistaken if you think she derives any amusement from watching you attempt to escape her loving embrace. Because spoiler alert: she doesn't. I'll concede that, depending on the ingenuity of your escape plan, she might be slightly impressed. However, her predominant emotions will be disappointment and frustration at your decision to flee from her and the love she offers.

H = Hell (What would be their darling's worst experience with them?)

Anytime you’re eating.

She's the sole creator of your meals—breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it. After all, she's literally hell's chef—whose culinary prowess could possibly rival hers? Admittedly, her dishes typically feature ingredients of the human variety, but just because you're human doesn't mean you can't partake! However, since she respects your reluctance to try them, she prepares normal food for you (steak, spaghetti, soup, or whatever). Surprisingly, despite her expertise in cooking humans, her skills extend seamlessly to crafting dishes that humans typically enjoy, something you’re very grateful for! Otherwise, if not for that, you’re sure she would’ve made you a cannibal long ago.

The reason I consider this your worst experience with her is because every single time she insists on coaxing you into trying her food, persuading you to try something different, and promising it will delight your taste buds. It gets to the point of annoyance. Once, in an attempt to end her relentless persuasion, you reluctantly accept—only to discover she had prepared a rather huge meal made entirely of human flesh. You're left with the choice of either eating it all or giving it a try but then spitting it out, leading to voicing your dislike of the food she so lovingly made, which ultimately results in her extreme frustration—which then escalates to the point of endangering your life, making it an unforgettable and traumatizing ordeal.

I feel like this part didn’t make much sense. Oops.

I = Ideals (What kind of future do they have in mind for/ with their darling?)

Her vision of a future with you isn't unreasonable, at least not in her eyes. All she desires is your total and complete obedience, love, and loyalty. She envisions a time when you abandon every trace of rebellion and disobedience from your soul, mind, and body, allowing her to love and care for you without resistance. She wants to choose your outfits, pamper you with her affection, follow you everywhere, and shower your face with kisses. The ultimate fulfillment of her dream would be you finally letting go of your human morals and indulging in the delicious meals she prepares: limbs and body parts of humans.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?)

When our beloved chef is jealous, she maintains a veneer of professionalism. Well, kind of. She confronts the source of her jealousy without hesitation, but there's an unmistakable edge to her demeanor. You can sense her annoyance, even if she tries to mask it. Think of it like this: she addresses the situation directly, yet her words and actions carry a subtle, simmering irritation that makes her feelings clear.

"Excuse me, this is my partner," she'll assert calmly, her tone tinged with a hint of annoyance, her closed eyes twitching slightly in suppressed anger.

Now, depending on the response of the other person, things can unfold in one of two ways: she unleashes her wrath, using her powers to invert gravity on the offender, therefore making that person fall upwards into the sky, inevitably plunging them into the very door that leads to hell. Or she’ll opt for a warning, her tone conveying the gravity of the situation without resorting to immediate punishment.

K = Kisses (How do they act around or with their darling?)

She remains the same: polite and composed. However, some wouldn't be mistaken if they claimed to notice a faint smile on her face whenever you're around—a silent expression of her pleasure and relief at having you near. Regarding possession, it's likely evident to most people. Depending on the situation, like when she's on the hunt for humans who have the ingredients required for whatever dish she’s working on, she might have her arm firmly around your waist or wrist—perhaps to the extent that you're lifted slightly off the ground, unable to touch it anymore. She's tall, very tall, and she's aware that there will come a point where you can't keep up with her anymore, so she occasionally employs one of those long arms of hers to lift you off the ground, if only just slightly.

L = Love letters (How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?)

She wouldn’t. She strikes me as someone who watches from afar.

But the moment she realizes the intensity of her feelings for you, she won't hesitate for a second. She'll approach you directly and declare, "You belong to me now."

No matter your answer, you're hers now.

M = Mask (Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?)

Absolutely not. She couldn't care less about who witnesses her overwhelming love and obsession for you. If anyone were to dare to call her out on it, she'd simply turn her head in their direction, her eyes closed as always, and dismiss them, urging them to give you and her some space.

N = Naughty (How would they punish their darling?)

Scolding. That's her method of discipline. She'll be as stern as necessary during scoldings, but physical harm is off the table. Still, she's strict and unforgiving in her approach. You might initially believe that a mere scolding won't affect you much, but trust me, when she scolds you, you'll find yourself feeling surprisingly remorseful. She has a way of making you question yourself, leaving you wondering why you feel so guilty after her scolding is over. In short, you may underestimate the impact of her scolding at first, but eventually, it starts to hit you.

O = Oppression (How many rights would they take away from their darling?)

Honestly, she wouldn't strip away many rights from you. The only ones she'll take are your right to privacy and your right to choose your own outfits, as she insists on selecting and dressing you herself. If you dare to voice complaints, she'll simply brush them aside, reminding you that she's seen countless human bodies—after all, she literally cooks humans.

P = Patience (How patient are they with their darling?)

She's patient enough to tolerate a few complaints from you, but insults are where she draws the line. Just keep yourself in her good graces, and the chances of her becoming angry with you decrease significantly. By staying on her good side, I mean offering her your complete and unwavering obedience, love, and loyalty.

Q = Quit (If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?)

If you were to meet your demise, she'd make it her mission to avenge you and ensure that whoever was responsible for your death pays the ultimate price. She'll deliver a punishment far worse than hell itself. So rest assured, if you were to meet such a fate, she'd be seeking revenge in your name. Until she looks in every corner and crevice of the earth to avenge your death, she won’t be able to move on.

The only time I can see her actually moving on from your death is if you were to die under natural circumstances.

If you were to escape, resentment would begin to fester and swell within her heart at your sudden departure. The idea of her beloved leaving her so abruptly would fuel an ever-growing sense of bitterness within her. Each passing moment would only serve to intensify this gnawing feeling of resentment, pulling at her heartstrings with increasing force day by day. Consequently, she won't be able to move on until she finds you again. However, her motivation for seeking you out would no longer stem from her immense love but from the overwhelming resentment and anger that now consumes her.

R = Regret (Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?)

No, she doesn't experience a single iota of guilt when she abducts you. Guilt isn't an emotion she's familiar with, nor does she see a reason to entertain it. After all, why should she feel guilty? She now has the person she loves most closer to her than ever, and if anything, she's pleased by the outcome.

Moreover, she won't ever release her hold on you. You'll never be granted freedom from her grasp until the day you draw your final breath, which will likely occur due to natural circumstances such as old age, a heart attack, or any other form of disease.

S = Stigma (What brought about this side of them? childhood, curiosity, etc?)

Curiosity.

As a devil who typically sees humans as nothing more than necessary ingredients for her dishes, she doesn't usually care or think much of them. That is, until she meets you. You must have caught her eye because there was something undeniably different about you, something that sparked her curiosity and ultimately caused her to fall for you—hard. I'm talking about the kind of fall where she face-plants the floor type hard.

T = Tears (How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?)

She still doesn't feel a drop of guilt when she sees you cry, isolate yourself, or scream. The closest she ever comes to guilt is disappointment—and guilt and disappointment aren't even in the same realm, so you can already imagine how that goes. However, she won't feel disappointment toward you unless you scream; in that case, her disappointment is directed at you. If you isolate yourself or cry, she'll be disappointed in herself for making you feel this way—I guess you could say this is her own way of feeling "guilt." In those instances, she'll try to comfort you—so that's a small consolation. But if you scream, she’ll simply tell you to knock it off.

U = Unique (Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?)

My mind is actually so blank at this point that I cannot think, so please just take this: She won't ever physically harm you—not even mentally.

V = Vice (What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?)

Remember all the times I mentioned how she desperately wants you to try her food, but you refuse because eating human meat would make you a cannibal? Well, here's a potential advantage: if you tell her you want to try her dishes, you’ll surprise her. She'll enthusiastically prepare the meal, and that's your moment—it's either now or never. While she's cooking, you have your chance to make a run for it. But be cautious; she's a long-legged woman with enough stamina to catch up to you within mere seconds. So, act wisely.

W = Wit's end (Would they ever hurt their darling?)

No.

Not sure if this counts, but you know how she only targets humans if they're necessary ingredients for her dishes? Well, here's the great news for you: you're not and will never be an option as an ingredient for her. You are the only human she will never, ever consider attacking, regardless of whether you possess one of the ingredients she's seeking. Even if all the ingredients for her dish happen to be everything that you are, she will never turn to you as a food source. She'll scour every corner and crevice of the earth if necessary, but she'll never resort to cooking you. (This part was supposed to go into the unique section, but I changed my mind because it felt wrong. So if this doesn’t make sense, sorry💪😞)

Yeah, in essence, she'll never inflict harm upon you. While your worst experiences with her may have been near-death encounters, she'll never actually harm you. The most she'll do in terms of hurting you is exert a firm grip. That's it.

X = Xoanon (How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?)

She's not a worshipper, but her actions might suggest otherwise. The way she cares for you feels akin to that of a devoted caregiver. She insists on dressing you herself, feeding you, and accompanying you everywhere. It's understandable if you interpret her actions as worship, but to her, it's not about worship—it's simply about loving you that much.

And no, she's not going to any extraordinary lengths to win you over because in her mind, you're already hers. There's no need for her to go to such lengths when you're already with her.

Y = Yearn (How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?)

Y’know how I just mentioned that in her mind, you're already hers? Well, I doubt you share the same sentiment, do you? She's not oblivious, and she's well aware that you likely don't reciprocate her feelings. If your feelings toward her remain unchanged even with all her persuasions, she'll remain surprisingly patient for quite some time. What I'm getting at is that her endurance in trying to win you over during the relationship is remarkable. I can't envision her snapping at you, no matter how much time passes as she endeavors to capture your heart.

Hoping this part made sense 😗

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break their darling?)

Like I've hammered home countless times, no—not mentally, not physically, but perhaps emotionally. Remember when I mentioned how her scolding can make you question whether you're truly ungrateful for her love? Well, emotions play a significant role in that scolding too. She doesn't necessarily toy with your emotions, but she aims for you to feel at least a tiny tinge of guilt for every instance you've angered or disappointed her.

[redfluffz]

I know Michael seems to be very stoic and non-emotive, but he also seems like he would be the most likely to sneak into his big brother’s bed (or nest?) after a bad day or if he had a bad dream in order to cuddle. Even when they were fully grown. Did he ever do this?

Actually in my headcanon Michael would never do this. But this has a reason.

When God created Luc he wanted to be loved by a being which is similar to him. And boom Luc was born. A being who literally loves the whole world and wants the best for everybody.

But when God created Michael (this will explained in Chapter 3) he wanted a perfect being, without any own will which is absolutely without any doubts obedient. And God was in absolute stress while creating him. So Michael isn't as God wanted him to be. He can't create on his own and he always needs orders to know what he's supposed to do. But the worst thing is, why he was created. He was supposed to be an obedient playmate for Luc who will change the gruesome fate which awaits Luc in the future. And you guessed right - that backfired. Also he created Mikes star out of Luc star. Cause perfection and stuff. He wanted him to be like Luc and that's why their twins.

So it is more Luc who will take care of his siblings. Not in the parenting or responsable way, more in a psychological and emotional way. His siblings are all broken in a way - from the start, because God is going crazy. (You will also see this with Chapter 3) So he wants to help them, guide them.

So Luc is more like the one who will sneak into Mikes bed.

I hope this cleared your question. :D

Thanks for asking! ✨️

[cupids-scream-queen]

'*•.¸♡ Daughter of Mercy ♡¸.•*'

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings:

Lots of angst, murder, detailed and graphic descriptions of violence including, but not limited to rape, murder, sex, mugging. Dub con/Non con.

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary:

Swift. Deadly. Profoundly disturbing by the press. A serial killer is making rounds in the areas surrounding Woodsboro, but never attacking the town. Described as one of the worst killers California has seen in years, the killer stops at nothing to accomplish their crimes. The people they take out, though, seem to have more criminal history than the killer themself...

She was the one behind it all, cleaning the world one death at a time. Until somebody starts committing atrocities in Woodsboro, the one place she hadn't touched. The papers began to credit her with crimes she'd never done, and she had to do something about it.

Taking it into her own hands, the killer decided she'd find those responsible for the Woodsboro crimes, and make them pay...with their life.

P R O L O G U E : D E A T H S E N T E N C E

✧. ┊     Stu & Billy x f!reader ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Cold nights and even colder blades. That was your life, and that was how you were intending on keeping it. The rush of adrenaline, the pain you caused onto those who caused pain, and the quick, quiet way you slipped into the houses to attack--it was all special. It was something you needed, much more than drugs, much more than water, much more than the world.

It was gruesome work, yet you admired the way you performed. Every day was different, every night was, too. There was no telling how a cleansing would go before it was performed, and that kind of variable was interesting enough to keep you going.

Your life was difficult, to say the least. Broken. You thought of yourself as an incomplete puzzle, and every cleansing you performed, you were adding yet another piece. Finishing yourself, slowly. You had no idea what you'd do when you completed the puzzle--or if you'd ever complete it.

You were a high school student--a junior. Seventeen years old, and you had nothing to show for it save for a few lockets and birthday cards from relatives you were pretty sure you hadn't seen since you were six. You had a job--a shitty job, but a job, and a hobby that you could argue was helping people. You helped pay the bills. You helped buy groceries. You helped take care of your younger siblings.

Yet, the only thing you'd actually impacted was through violence.

It made you feel empty, in a way. That wasn't to say that you weren't, but it made you realize that you'd never get famous for anything you could actually, legally, take credit for. You were forever to be the mysterious force weeding out the worst kinds of people from society, your presences always on the outskirts, your name mentioned in hushed whispers across worried parents and your title slathered onto the front page of newspapers. The Killer's Killer--that was your name. As lazy as it was, it was a title. Nobody gave titles to worthless killers.

You felt yourself breathe more deeply as you continued your walk home. California was a hotspot for serial killers--it was no surprise that there was another one in its midst, but the only thing the press couldn't figure out was why. It annoyed you, to a certain extent--could they not see the pieces of shit you were eliminating from society?

You were almost home--a shabby house that contained a much shabbier interior. Your mother had gotten the house from her mother's will--and as shitty as it was, it allowed for her children to go to a decent public school, which was why you were there.

You considered yourself lucky. You had the smallest room, but it was yours. Your two sisters shared the larger room, and your parents had the finished attic as theirs. It was a tight fit for a family of five, but you made it work. You had to.

You unlocked the front door with your key, slipping quietly inside. Your parents didn't really care about your nightly activities--not since you'd gotten your license. Besides, you were partly the reason why they still had a roof over their heads--they had nothing to hold over you without losing something much more valuable.

You had a small amount of blood on your pants, and you discarded them into your hamper with little thought. Your room was plain, save for a few walls of various weapons, and a giant poster with a picture of a cat with three eyes.

No knock at your door. A quiet house. You considered yourself lucky. You had everything you could've asked for. Life was better now that you were out of the shithole you were raised in. The scars of that could be worn on your mind, but you were safe with the knowledge it would never happen again.

If it happened again, it was certain to be a death sentence.

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writeblr Re(rere)intro that's a year late!

Hi! I'm Pax, and I write Big Books that keep getting darker and darker in subject matter 🎉🎉

Basics about me:

he/him or they/them, Mid 20s

Favorite genres: Fantasy, SciFi, Horror, Mystery

Favorite authors: N. K. Jemisin, Tamsyn Muir, Brandon Sanderson, Pierce Brown, Samantha Shannon

Other things I do: Digital art (including commissions!), Twitch streams (usually art or writing sprints, occasionally video games), digital art assets and fonts (PWYW on Ko-Fi!)

Basics about my WIPs:

THE MILLENNIUM SAGA

High fantasy/Steampunk epic, 8 books planned. Book one: Firebreathers (160k words; ~700 pages) Book two: Echoseers (148k words; ~600 pages) Book three: Goddess-Touched (15k as of posting; 3rd attempt at drafting) First person, Multi POV What starts as a simple rebellion against their local Citylord becomes a flight - and fight - for their lives, as Ember Timber, their family, and their newfound friends are forced to flee overseas from the vengeful general who will stop at nothing to earn her Eternal King's favor, and will in fact relish hunting her own son and grandchildren for sport. But along the way, the crew learns that the Eternal King's immortality was not granted in return for his success as the Chosen One long ago, as they have always been told - and the sacrifice for such a thing is not only paid dearly in blood, but on its way to being repeated.

WHISPERS

Dark fantasy Noir. Currently with beta readers. 172k words; ~750 pages. First person, Dual POV. Set in the same world as Millennium Saga, ~5 years after the series concludes. Marika Swiftfoot owes her life to the Shadow of Fowden, the sorceress leader of a terroristic crime syndicate based in the north pole. When the man she once loved finally comes to collect on that life debt ten years later, she plans to kill him the moment it's safe. Too soon, after all, and everyone else she's ever loved will join him beyond the Veil. But hate isn't the only feeling that lingers between them, and when they're offered another way out of their debts, the lives of a few innocents looks like a bargain compared to the life of cruelty ahead of them. Lorelei has been hunting the Shadow for twenty years, and looking for the sister who disappeared for thirty. And here, names are legacies: she wants to earn Hopebringer before her legs give out for good, to erase the stain her father's name has left with Vowbreaker. And for that, she sees one way forward: she must never break her vows, no matter how small. The Shadow must die, and the Whispers with her. Her sister must be found, even if all that's left to find is a story. She must find answers for every case she takes on, even if she doesn't know so much as the name of the man who's gone missing.

THE LOST

Space opera webcomic. First scene fully illustrated; will release once the first chapter is complete, a week after Patrons receive the final scene. In the far reaches of space, the term "Media Empire" is quite literal; the Watchers have extended their influence throughout their galaxy filament with the help of their beloved Coliseum, and the Champion therein. After all, having a shapeshifter capable of replicating anything leads to some gruesome, spectacular fights, made all the more heartrending when they are the last of their kind, trapped in the ship molded from their kin's corpse. But while the Watchers have total control over what happens in the pit, they cannot predict the audience. And they certainly cannot predict the malfunctioning psychic implant of an assassin in the front row, and the loss of both opponents and a long-time prisoner of war to the escape.

I also post art of all of these semi-regularly, including in-progress stuff, as well as excerpts and rambling braindumps!! I'm also a huge worldbuilding nerd, so if you ever want to learn more about the worlds I'm writing, don't be afraid to ask!! I love talking about them :D

Boosts are appreciated <3 tell me about your own WIPs in the tags/replies/wherever!! I love learning about what people are working on!

[wynought]

The Horror in Burrow's End

I have been having Thoughts (TM) about the horror aspect of Burrow's End for a while now, and I think I can put at least some of those Thoughts (TM) into words now. Spoilers for Burrow's End (up to, and including episode 8) and Neverafter below.

Many people have pointed out that Burrow's End has been more horrifying (or at least felt more horrifying) than Neverafter, Dimension 20's proclaimed Horror Season. There has been a lot of terrifying body horror and gruesome gore, and with the latest episode (episode 8, as of writing this) we've also seemingly risen to another level with the absolutely stunning Wenabocker tapes (kudos again to Carlos Luna, the acting and sound design were legitimately masterful).

But we've also had that with Neverafter; the opening scene with Rosamund waking up is a perfect example of body horror, the Stepmother is an advanced lesson in eldritch horror, there are powerful and unknowable antagonists all throughout the Neverafter. So why is it that so many (if not all of us) feel that Burrow's End is so much scarier than Neverafter? I think there's a multitude of factors at play here.

Of course, we have the difference in the cast - the Intrepid Heroes are a well-oiled machine of tight comedy at this point, they know each other, their strengths, their comedic timing, they know what they can get away with in terms of shenanigans. The Stupendous Stoats are all incredible performers and have obviously worked together before in various constellations. However, they don't have an Established Dynamic in the way the Intrepid Heroes do. It is also the first time that Aabria is DMing a full-on D&D game in the dome, with battlesets and minis, and everything that entails, and she has said herself that she usually does theatre of the mind - there's a good possibility she wasn't even aware herself, how exactly this would influence her own style and the atmosphere she would create. All of this contributes to a vastly different feel of Burrow's End compared to Neverafter.

Additionally, both players and their characters in Neverafter were genre savvy, as was the audience. Neverafter was marketed as a horror season. We knew the tone going in, the Intrepid Heroes knew it going in, their characters were conceived as being horror versions of commonly known fairy tale characters. The marketing for Burrow's End was different; sure, we all immediately made the connection to Watership Down and The Secret of NIMH, and those aren't exactly known for their easy and happy themes, but I don't think any of us from the audience, or even the players were expecting the bear. This also ties into the player characters themselves. The Intrepid Heroes' characters didn't know each other beforehand; they grow together and they have/develop familial vibes, but they aren't family with all the added baggage that entails. Rosamund and Gerard may be cousins, but they're 100 years apart in age and have never met before. Pib and Pinocchio are successfully running scams together and do care for each other, but they don't quite have that long-time sibling dynamic. Mother Goose and Ylfa are arguably the closest to each other before the events of Neverafter, with Goose taking on a parental role, but they are stuck in their own recent traumas and seem to have gravitated towards each other more out of the need to fill the respective holes in their lives than out of a genuine, pre-established bond. Destiny's Children do grow and go on to become important people in each others' lives, but there's a difference between bonds forged by danger and choice, and bonds forced by necessity. The Stupendous Stoats were conceived as a family. Viola is Ava's daughter, and also Tula's sister, and also Thorn's wife, and also the kids' aunt, and also the co-leader of a cult. She has so many roles to fulfill already that 'horror protagonist' isn't even on anybody's list, least of all her own - and that goes for all the player characters. Their established dynamics mean that, for a bit, they don't, no they can't even realise what kind of story they are in. Thorn is living in a story where he is the tragic hero destined to save his people, Tula lives in a story about grief and loss and acceptance, Viola lives in a story of political intrigue, the kids live in a YA adventure novel a la Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Ava lives in Encanto (but don't tell her, she'd hate that). Then they encounter the bear and there's a slight record scratch, but, after having dealt with that mess, they go right back to their established roles. They react to the horror in a very, for lack of a better word, human way, they treat it as incidental to the reality they live in. They feel like a real family, slowly finding out just how scary their world truly is. The horror's impact on their lives is very different from the way Neverafter impacted the protagonists. We get to see the stoats' realisation that they're horror protagonists, but Destiny's Children had already gotten that message by the time they come together.

Another huge factor is the season length. Neverafter ran for 20 episodes, while Burrow's End is half as long. A lot of horror hinges on the audience and the protagonists being unaware of how exactly the antagonist/monster/spooky thing works. The audience usually knows on some level that there have to be some rules the horror has to abide by, the protagonists may or may not; but especially in something like an actual play TTRPG show there have to be some rules because this is a game, after all, and it would be incredibly unfun for the players, the DM, and the audience to have a fully unsolvable mystery. The problem with this is that the actual terror goes away once the rules are solved - sure, you can still do gore and disturbing stuff, and you can scare the protagonists, but your audience will expect an action-based story now, instead of a reaction-based story (e.g. the protagonist figures out that a silver bullet can hurt the werewolf, so now the audience expects them to stop running and make/find silver bullets in order to protect themselves, and either succeed in killing the monster or die trying). The longer your story is, the harder it is to keep up this level of suspense. You will either start to tread ground and the story will begin to feel stale, or you will reveal too much too early and lose that sweet sweet terror of the unknown. I think Neverafter was too long for an effective horror season; I don't think it is bad how many episodes we got, I enjoyed every single one of them. But I do believe that much of the horror aspect was lost around the halfway point - one of the worst things to happen to a D&D party, the TPK, happened in episode 2 and was "solved" (in the sense I talked about above) in episode 3. The Lines Between and the Authors were introduced in episode 8. The world's rules were established by then, and the Intrepid Heroes could start acting on them. Of course, there were still scary elements (the fact that Death itself had been imprisoned and was being tortured, the undead Dwarven army, Rapunzel's trickery and unsettling personality, etc. etc.), but to me this felt more like a very dark fantasy story, instead of a tale of horror. Burrow's End is so much shorter than Neverafter, and I think this works to its advantage as a horror story. The protagonist stoats' limited perspective on what is going on in the Blue Forest, in Last Bast, with the Blue in general, their general lack of knowledge on all things human make for so many different vectors of horror, and the abundance of mysteries means that even after 8 episodes there are still aspects of the world we are unaware of.

This neatly brings me to my last point: There is a unique dynamic at play in Burrow's End that contributes a lot to the uncanniness of the story. Namely, that the protagonists are stoats with no/minimal knowledge of humanity, while the players and the audience know so much more than the protagonists. TTRPGs oftentimes make it hard not to metagame, not to let your prior knowledge influence your character's decisions, and Burrow's End takes this to an extreme level. There is a difference between the "my husband was killed by the thunder on a cloudless day" kind of horror, and the "this stoat was shot by a gun, but his body wasn't collected immediately, meaning that probably wasn't a hunter, so why are people shooting stoats?" kind of horror; a difference between "humans are faceless monsters with hairless, yellow, smooth skin" kind of horror, and the "that's a person in a hazmat suit, why are they wearing hazmat suits?" kind of horror. The beauty of this is that we as the audience (and also the players, because the fun thing about TTRPGs is that you can be both audience and protagonist at the same time) get to experience double the horror. We can feel for the protagonists and their struggles in this dangerous, deadly world, where everything seems out to get them, and we get to understand things that they don't or even can't grasp. We get to put the clues together, painting by numbers in the negative space left by the stoats' explanations, while still reeling from trying to understand why the world works the way it does. We can piece the kind of environmental disaster together that caused the Blue, while being surprised by a horde of carnivorous chipmunks piloting a dying bear. We get to feel twice as afraid of this world by virtue of hearing the words "loss of coolant accident in reactor charlie" spoken by a human, but understood by stoats, and understanding what those words imply.

All in all, I am very happy with Burrow's End. I have previously stated that as a horror fan I was disappointed by Neverafter; I did enjoy it a lot, but it just didn't scratch that itch (not trying to badmouth Neverafter here, just stating my personal experience). Burrow's End is more than making up for that, especially since I didn't expect it going in. I am extremely impressed by Aabria's ability to first create, and then hand us the tools to unravel a mystery on this scale where every new piece of information makes the whole picture seem more terrifying, and her nerves of steel to not reveal too much information, even this late in the game (reminds me a lot of how long it took to figure out everything about Kalina in Fantasy High Sophomore Year, to the point of only fully understanding her in the finale episodes, while she had been a mystery for almost all of the season). It takes a lot to not spill all your very cool lore as soon as you get the chance, and the organic way things have been revealed to the stoats and to us is really something else. I'm just really looking forward to episodes 9 and 10 of Burrow's End, and also all of Aabria's future projects with D20. Thank you @quiddie for this beautiful season, I'm enjoying myself so much!

[g0thic-ghost]

NSFW Alphabet :: Billy Lenz

This is my very first NSFW Alphabet, so.. It’s not as great as you (all), expect! Even so, I do accept critique! Anyways, please enjoy and if (somehow) you like this writing you could request a similar one for another Slasher! Warning ⚠️ : Not proof read.

REQUESTS : OPEN

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Billy, he isn’t both bad or good and his aftercare isn’t heaven or hell, it’s more in the middle of all things. Billy will usually finish up by looking down at you and taking in the sight from how he left you all messy, giggling and murmuring stuff.. “OH! Piggy is so cute.. so cute!”, “Dirty piggy!”, etc. But, soon enough he will give you some more love by crawling up to you and giving you sloppy kisses down your body, covering you up with a blanket (or his sweater, if you’re lucky enough). And peer away to his hiding spot, leaving you curled up in a ball in a blanket while panting over the amount of ‘activities’ you had done with Billy. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Billy knows what he likes about himself and that is his mouth and hands, from how he’s able to venture his tongue up and down your neck, collarbone, chest, stomach and much more. And his hands because of how he loves squeezing and kneading on your so so soft skin.. What he likes about you is your legs, mostly it being your thighs. From how easy they are to grab and from it’s satisfying squeeze (He goes crazy over the clapping sound they make when he’s having ‘moments’ with you).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Billy is a messy boy, nasty even! So he tends to cum anywhere he can reach from the position he is in.. When he is behind you with you head buried in the sheets of the bed, he will cum right on your back and run his hand up and down the white liquid, messing with it while mumbling gruesome things. If he’s on-top and facing you, once he’s close he’ll quickly pull out of you and crawl up to you. Cumming right on your face, (He loves the way you gasp in shock from the amount he lets out on your face, and how you quickly turn a flush red).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Billy has a lot of dirty secrets to keep in, but his most deepest darkest one is that he loves to steal your clothes. His favorite piece of clothe to steal from you being your underwear, especially your recent worn ones.. He can’t help but love the scent you leave off on them, and that soon results into him hiding somewhere and humping against them and moaning you name.. “Ooohhh! Y/N.. Y/N!  M-my.. Little piggy!”.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Billy knows a whole lot of how to have sex, or how it’s done. But when it comes to he himself actually doing it, he Is out of pace and overall messy with everything from how he’s never experienced such things. But, he still makes his way into doing it, just that you will have to teach him how to do everything well and right.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Billy Isn’t picky with the positions you two get in, he loves anything that involves him being able to feel your body close and have himself deep inside you.. Though, he is a fan of such positions as ; Doggy style, Cowgirl, “Grasshopper” and or “Spooning”. 

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Billy is serious, in his own way.. He is heavily concentrated on how your body looks and how it reacts to everything he does and he always comments something on it. Which sometimes ends up making you laugh from how he says it or the overall wording he says it in.. “Aaah! My dirty piggy is so precious!” .. ‘pfft- .. Dirty Piggy?’ . But he’s still loving and serious in the situation, even if you think he isn’t.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Billy is almost always in his hiding spots and never goes down until you call him for something important or when you are in the mood, meaning he never dares to get our and ‘waste his time’ shaving himself up. So, he has a quite messy ‘carpet’ and there is slight patches going up his stomach. His hair down ‘there’ is a bit more darker then the actual hair on his head..

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Billy is intimate and loving, yes. Though, in his own way.. He shows his love to you by what he’s doing to you in the moment by thrusting into you, but if he sees you want more he will do so (if he really wants to, that is). He will lean into you and give you hard bites that drool follows through, lick up and down your body. Give you spit-filled kisses and maybe even tell you he loves having sex with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Billy is very sexually active, well.. With you! He wouldn’t dare to leave his ‘dear piggy’. But when it comes to him being alone with himself he tends to touch himself quite a lot by just a small thought of you or even peering at you through a hole in the wall (or something) and staring right at you while he touches himself.. Sometimes, he will use your underwear and give it some sniffs while he strokes himself in a sloppy and fast manner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves anything that involves him using his mouth, hands or hearing you moan and beg for him.. Not only that but even cry from how much he teases you, so he has quite ‘unique’ kinks such as ; Anilingus/Cunnilingus, Gagging kink, Mommy kink, Distracted sex and has a loving for Somnophilia. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Billy is not picky, as said.. He loves anything that involves him being able to touch your body and be deep inside you, so he would do it anywhere with you.. In the kitchen, pressed against the counter? He’ll wrap his arms around your hips and pull you close, humping himself against you while you work on some food. On the couch focused on a book, he will open up your legs and work on your pants until he gets them off and will start to ram himself into you. He will do it anywhere! 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Billy is easy to turn on, just by thinking of you or imagining your face just makes drool start to form In the corners of his mouth and a slight bulge grow in his pants. But when it comes to actual contact to contact with you, seeing you tired unusually turns him on.. Your sleepy eyes that can barely hold themselves up, your soft yawns, soft and slow breathing coming to you once you start to fall asleep. He loves it! (Explaining the somnophilia).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Billy hates anything that involves him having to ‘give you away’ to another person and or even having to watch you have sex with someone else, he’s scared that once that ever happens it will keep happening. So, if you ever come up with a threesome.. ‘Hey Billy? .. I was thinking about trying something different, like.. A threeso-‘ , “No! no.. No no no! Piggy only belongs to me! Billy!” He will yell and scream, as he grabs you tightly and quickly wraps his body around yours. “Billy.. Billy is good!” He will say as he starts to claw at his clothes so he could show you that you don’t need two people for pleasure, that him alone is enough.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to receive, watching you as you move your head up and down as tears build up in your eyes. And how he can head your soft gags when he decides to ram himself into your face, but he also likes to give you some pleasure. He loves having his head in between his head as he licks/sucks on you, and how you praise and moan at him or his name.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s slow and sensual at the very starting of your special moment, but he will soon become a wild animal from the amount of pleasure he’s getting and will start to become fast and rough by thrusting deep inside you. Which follows with him being sloppy and messy from how he just wants to hit a good spot that will make him feel much much pleasure.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Billy loves the idea and quickies, mostly he causes them. By tugging at your shirt and whispering gruesome words to you of how bad he wants to have you, and the things he wants to do to you.. Soon, starting to hump against you until you finally give in.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Even if Billy loves having sex with you anywhere and or having quickies, he doesn’t like the idea of getting caught with you because it would led to very bad things and possibly not even seeing you ever again. So he stays away from such risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Billy has a large sex-drive from how much he imagines such scenarios, touches himself and the held up sexual frustration. So when he got his hands on you he knew he could do whatever he wanted to do, because you couldn’t say no to his begging.. But, usually he lasts for 4 (in a half) rounds until he falls weak on the bed and is a whimpering and over-stimulated mess. Begging for you not to ‘use’ him anymore, but if you keep going he will still hold on as ur expect him to be holding at you for dear life.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Billy likes the idea of toys, yes! Though he would never actually use them because he’s scared if they’ll be too much for you and him.. Unless you beg him and he gives in (For Female reader ; If you ever requested pegging, he would be afraid of how rough you will be because he usually is with you. But once he gets to the actual thing his back is arching and his eyes are rolling in the back of his head. Begging and yelping for more).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you and watch you get impatient, but if you gets annoyed and or upset he will soon stop and quickly apologize to you.. “Billy is.. Sorry, thought you liked it” .. “It’s okaaay! .. It’s fine Billy, just- don’t do it too much? Now cmonn!”.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud.. Loud moans, whimpering, yelping, crying, mewling, etc. He will make any sound possible to show that he is loving every bit of the moment he is having with you. And not only that, but he mumbles out a lot of things while he’s inside you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he’s in any position that has him looking right down at your face he will not stare away at you and watch your faces contort into faces of pleasure and your mouth opening into an ‘O’ everything you moan, and your eyebrows furrow. He will have a wear to ear grin while drool drips down his teeth and onto his chin.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Billy is about 6 inches and a solid 7 when hard, though he is slightly ‘short’ he is still thick. Billy is uncut and two inches into his base which connects to his top is slightly curved, which always makes rough sex good from how he pokes into you. Billy is average, but he knows how to use himself in someway that makes you feel so much pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High! He is very sexual, and in a gruesome way. So he loves anything that involves you two, naked and in the mood which makes you two go crazy and be all over each other.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You never get to see Billy fall asleep because after sex he immediately ventures off to his hiding spot and you won’t see him after a few hours, but even if you don’t think so.. Once Billy gets where he needs to be, he will immediately fall down onto the ground face first and small asleep. Snoring loudly, from how tired he is from all the rounds you two went through.

[thegamingcatmom]

Resident Evil Village but everyone´s pregnant (cause Miranda is a busy woman)

TW: mentions of maternal mortality, unnatural birth, body horror (obv)

Honestly: This starts off rather light and crack-ish, but it´s gonna get dark towards the end, so-

Proceed at your own risk.

Listen-

Resident Evil Village but instead of Mother Miranda experimenting on the villagers and, yknow, putting them through the worst torture imaginable to get her daughter back, she just goes around and knocks the ladies up.

LIKE-

Listen, she´s probs the most powerful being this world has ever seen. She can shapeshift. So yall can´t tell me that "woman" (she´s more of a birb demigod smt) isn´t capable of shifting...other parts of herself. Into anything she´d like. Cmon.

Anyway-

She´s got immense power, so I´d like to think that in her 100 smt years that she´s ruled over that village, she´s come up with multiple ways to achieve her goal. Infecting them with The Cadou is just one of them, and she HAS tried that - without success, as we all know.

So, desperate times call for desperate measures.

And them ladies are very desperate.

I mean-

Getting knocked up by a divine being? What an honor.

Meanwhile, Miranda:

Yeah. Must be pretty damn hard having them ladies lined up for you like-

One of them is holding up a neon sign reading:

'FUTURE BABY DADDY!'

.

Yes, what a poor thing you are indeed, Miranda.

*sarcasm off*

ANYWAY-

Seeing how we´re still in the Resident Evil universe, we gotta have some form of body horror, right? Right. Which is why there´s a...catch:

The village women have no idea what they´re carrying. It could be human. It could be something else. The women are very much aware of the gruesome fate that might await them. But when God chooses you for her divine purposes, how could you ever reject her? It´s an honor.

Spoiler:

It´s something else.

Just like with The Cadou, Miri just can´t seem to accomplish her goal. Most women succumb to their fate after only a few weeks because, whatever is growing inside of them, it´s growing fast. Too fast. And it almost always rejects its vessel - ripping those poor women apart from the inside out.

Every time Miranda thinks she´s close because the woman actually survived the pregnancy, it´s all snatched from her again in the blink of an eye when the child turns out to be...not a child.

It´s unclear what has come out of that women. Even Miranda isnt´quite certain. It doesn´t even have a face.

Sigh.

Miranda: "Another failure..."

.

ENTER:

MC aka You aka The Outsider

The only one who seems rather unaffected by...whatever it is the village ladies find so charming about that arrogant woman who struts around like she owns this place. (I mean-)

...And also the one who might prove to be the perfect vessel.

...

If only you would let her. 😭

.

.

.

IN OTHER WORDS:

Miri the Mad Scientist believes you to be easy. Just like all the other harlots in this village. Getting into those (rather tight) pants will be a walk in the park-

...Except, it isn´t. And you are anything but easy.

.

Anyone wanna see a birb demigod failing spectacularly at flirting and, well, humaning in general?

Cause I wanna.