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thevoidstaredback · 9 months ago

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Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools: Letters Between Brothers

Still no letter from Damian. He’d been checking the mailbox every day for a year, but he understood why. Kind of. He gets that Damian and his family were under a lot of stress after Mr. Wayne was kidnapped, and they're probably celebrating now that he’s back, but that still didn’t stop the tiny bit of hurt Danny felt whenever he noticed the lack of responses from his brother.

A bigger part of him was wondering why it was taking so long for Damian to respond. Sure, his father had gone missing, and that was a lot of stress, but now he was back and it’d been nearly four months, but there was still no letter.

Maybe Damian really did hate him. Or maybe he’d forgotten about him? He hoped neither was the case, but he knew both were possibilities.

“Tot nicio scrisoare, nu?” Jazz asked. She was fluent in Romanian now, having taken to the language like a fish to water. Part of that was probably because Danny refused to teach her Arabic unless she learned three other languages, all of which had to be derived from different alphabets.

“Nu.” his shoulders slumped after he closed the mailbox, letters for his parents in his hand.

Jazz nudged his shoulder with hers. “Curaj! Măcar știi că e bine? El și familia sa au postat în mod regulat pe rețelele lor de socializare.”

Danny huffed. “ابتهج، كما تقول. لو كان الأمر بهذه السهولة، لكنت أسعد شخص في العالم.”

“Ce a fost asta?” she glared playfully at him from the corner of her eye.

“Nimic!” he stated. “De unde știi că postează în mod regulat? Îi urmărești pe Waynes?”

“Bineînțeles că îi urmăresc pe Waynes! La început a fost pentru că toată lumea îi urmărește, dar apoi mi-ai spus că Damian Wayne este fratele tău? Nu puteam să nu-i urmăresc.”

“Eu nu... Cum ai aflat că Damian e fratele meu? Nu ți-am spus niciodată asta.”

“Pentru că sunt chiar atât de grozav!” She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she said this, the wind making it go all over. “Nu a fost așa de greu, Danny. Voi doi arătați aproape la fel.”

He sighed. “I mean, I guess we look sorta alike.”

“‘Sorta’?” she scoffed, “Have you seen a picture of him recently? If people see you two side-by-side, they’re gonna find out your twins. I’m surprised no one’s mistaken you for him yet.”

“I’m not in a high enough circle to be mistaken for him. Sure, maybe Sam’s parents would make the mistake if they didn’t hate me enough to recognise me on vibes alone.” He opened the front door. “Seriously, how do they do that? If I hadn’t already made sure, I’d think they were tracking me.”

“You checked for trackers?”

“You would not believe the kind of shit that my Mother taught me about. And if you thought that was bad, father is so much more paranoid.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow, closing the door behind her. “Brucie Wayne, the man who once went viral for getting so drunk that he kissed a reporter because he thought he looked like Superman?”

“Yep.”

“We are talking about the same man, yeah?”

Danny just shrugged. “Paranoia’s hereditary.”

“It’s really not.” Jazz said.

Danny led the way up the stairs, leaving the door to his room open after he walked in, changing the conversation as Jazz did the same. “Your Romanian is sounding pretty good!”

“‘Pretty good’?” she called back, “I’m fluent!”

“Yeah, but you still have an accent.”

“So do you!”

“Yes, but mine is purposeful.”

“Why?”

“Do make you look better.”

Because their rooms are diagonal from each other, the ball that Jazz threw landed in Danny’s room, bouncing off the wall and hitting his arm. “Jerk!”

He laughed, rubbing his arm. “You love me.”

“A moral obligation.”

He feigned hurt. “Is that all I am to you? A moral obligation?”

“Yes!”

“Ouch, Jazzy, that hurts. Truly.”

“I’m sure.” She leaned against the doorframe to his room, her arms crossed. “Will you teach me Arabic now? I learned A Latin-derived language like you told me to.”

He shook his head. “Three languages, remember? Three languages and then I would teach you Arabic.”

She groaned, rolling her head back and then to the left to glare at him. “Fine! Which one are you gonna teach me now?”

Danny thought for a moment, mentally rifling through the languages he knew. “Russian,” he decided, “it’s based off of Old East Salvic.”

“But that’s gonna take forever!” Jazz whined.

“No it’s not,” Danny shot back, “It only took me a few months to learn.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re like, a super-genius.”

“What does that make you? You’re smarter than me.”

“Evidently not,” she huffed. “Where do I start?”

He grabbed a book off his shelf, one he’d bought two years into his stay with the Fentons. “The Cyrillic Alphabet. It’s what Russian uses.”

Jazz flipped through the Russian dictionary. “These are just straighter versions of the English Alphabet.”

“Not quite,” Danny said, “But, yeah.”

Jazz sighed, closing the book. “Great. Another year of studying before you make me learn another language before Arabic. What’s it gonna be that time, huh? Korean?”

“I was actually thinking Japanese.”

She groaned again, walking away to her room. “That was a joke, D!”

“No it wasn’t!” Her door closed in response. Danny huffed a laugh before closing his own door and settling at his desk.

He sighed, looking at the homework page. It was all stuff he already knew, stuff he’d been taught when he was a kid. When were they going to get to stuff he didn’t know?

It probably didn’t help that he got so bored doing his homework that he took college courses instead. At least those had material he’d not gotten the chance to learn in Nanda Parbat! If he got his Bachelor's early, would Jack and Maddie let him drop out, or would they make him get a GED? He already had one, but that wasn’t the point. Maybe, if he got his Masters? Though, that would mean he’d have to actually choose something to major in, and Danny wasn’t sure he was ready for that kind of commitment.

A lie. He was stuck between majoring in linguistics and astronomy. A problem for later Danny, he decided.

In the past year, he’d taken very quickly to astrology. It was fun, learning new things and beliefs about the stars and planets. He’d tried to get Sam and Tucker interested, but neither took to it very much. They’d tried, like good friends, but it didn’t click with them. However, Sam did start looking into magic and stuff, which then got him into magic and stuff. Tucker wasn’t into it, but they’d managed to combine all of their interests into one.

The computer code Tucker and Danny had started was coming along well, for them being barely in eighth grade. It was designed to look like a star chart, but the code itself had runes mixed in. None of them were really sure if the runes would do anything, but they thought they looked cool, so the runes were left in.

They were nowhere near a final product, but they were making good progress. Probably due to the fact that they were spending as much time as they could on it. It was hard to keep it a secret from everyone, though. They’d originally wanted to tell Jazz, but she hadn’t shown any interest in any of their hobbies, so they didn’t. Maybe in the future?

That’s what Danny opted to work on instead of his homework. He had designed the star chart based off of what he’d had access to at the time, but now more stars were being discovered and more planets were being introduced. It wasn’t going to be officially part of their coding project, but he figured it’d be nice to have anyway.

The problem with making a new star chart was that he had nowhere to hang it. His walls all had posters on them, and furniture blocked what space there was. The door was too small, either. Sure, he could move stuff around, but that was a lot of work he really didn’t want to do. However, he looked up, his ceiling was looking mighty plain.

However, after staring at it for nearly twenty minutes, he found it hard to focus on the star chart, too. His thoughts kept wandering back to his brother. Was Damian alright? Why hadn’t he replied? Even a small, one-sentence scrap of paper would’ve been a nice reprieve from his anxiety!

He toyed with the idea of sending another letter, despite that he’d told his brother he’d wait, but he didn’t. He very nearly did several times, but he managed to pull himself away from doing so. He didn’t think it’d be appreciated at all.

He groaned in frustration and harshly shoved his chair away from his desk, standing up and shoving it back into place. Then, he left his room. He needed a distraction that wouldn’t make him focus.

He grabbed his phone and opened the chat he had with Sam and Tucker and told them his problem. They both agreed to come over to hang out. Danny didn’t think he’d ever get tired of being around his friends, no matter what. He hoped they felt the same way, too.

Impatiently, he waited by the front door for his friends to arrive. When they did, they found themselves haphazardly sprawled over the couch and chairs on the main floor. They weren’t really doing anything other than sitting together, the TV turned on with a low volume for white noise.

Eventually, though, Sam asked, “So, what’re your parents working on in the basement?”

Danny shrugged as best he could from how he was laying, his legs over the back of the chair and his head hanging upside down. “The same thing as always; the Ghost Portal.” He was heavy on the sarcasm of the title. It was completely inane and unoriginal.

Sam perked up. “They’ve actually been working on a portal?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “Since they were in college, I think.”

“Really?” Tucker asked, his interest peaked.

A nod. “Yep.”

“Can we go see it?” the other boy asked again.

Danny hesitated. “Um, I’m not sure. My parents aren’t home right now, I don’t know if the lab’s messy…or safe.”

“It can’t be that bad!” Sam jumped up from her own chair, “C’mon! Just a quick look!”

Tucker, too, stood, “Yeah, man. We won’t touch anything. Scout’s Honor!”

“You’re not a scout,” Danny said, though he stood with them.

“Please?” Sam said, “You know we’ll just go down there anyway, with or without you.”

Tucker was the one to hesitate this time. “I don’t know about that. I mean, it’s a science lab. I don’t think I’d wanna go down there without someone who knows it well.”

“And you think that’s me?” Danny asked. Another look at his friends’ faces had him caving. “Alright, fine, but none of us are touching anything. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, man!” The two agreed.

He took the lead, stopping just before the entrance to the basement, the caution sign on the door not doing anything to dissuade either of his friends.”For the record: I don’t like this at all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved him off, “Tell it to the judge.”

With another heavy sigh, Danny opened the basement door and started down the steps, the other two following closely behind him, not closing the door behind them. The carpet on the stairs had been torn up and badly replaced with uneven linoleum tiles. The walls were also covered in the same sheet metal as the lab itself, cut and applied much more neatly than the stairs. The wall at the bottom of the stairs had been carved into shelves for cleaning supplies, a small vertical pocket having been cut out for a broom and a mop. To the right was another door, this one reinforced metal, that led into the lab. The doorframe was covered over in caution tape as a final warning.

Trudging on, Danny opened the vertically sliding door and walked into his parent’s lab. As he expected, it was messy. Papers were scattered around, half built somethings ended up where there wasn’t paper, blueprints were taped haphazardly to the walls, and there were tools scattered all over the floor. Garage shelves lined one wall, holding completed inventions. Whatever tools weren’t on the floor, and empty jars of all sizes.

The architect’s desk was against the wall with the door, filing cabinets stood on the other side of the desk, all the drawers open. The wall next to the door - not the same wall because of the corner turning in - was where the garage shelves were pushed, four of them taking up the entire wall. Directly across from the door and dest was the newest addition to the lab. A sliding door of reinforced glass led into the “weapons room” where the completed weaponry and safety equipment was all stored. Directly across from the garage shelves, set into the furthermost wall of the lab, was the pièce de résistance: The Ghost Portal.

The trio carefully stepped their way into the room, Danny picking up some tools from the floor so they had a spot to stand. As promised, they didn’t touch anything except for the tools which they piled in a corner.

“Whoa.” Tucker admired, “That’s so cool!”

“Not really,” Danny scrunched his nose up. It had been completed, but his parents hadn’t turned it on yet, saying that they were making sure they had everything ready before they did. Personally, he thought that they’d tried and failed to open it. The inside of it was still messy, but not nearly as bad as the lab floor was. He still didn’t like going near it; it gave him a bad feeling, and he’d been taught to trust his gut when logic was useless. Logic, when dealing with anything having to do with his parents, was use;ess, so he listened to his gut. His gut said to stay away, so he always did his best.

“You should go in it.” Sam suggested.

It took Danny a second to clock that she’d been talking to him. “What?”

“Go stand in it,” she elaborated, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her skirt, “I want a picture.”

“Then you go stand in it and I’ll take the picture!”

“You told us not to touch anything! Standing inside whatever that thing is is considered as touching it.”

Tucker shrugged when Danny looked to him for help. “Don’t look at me, man, she’s right. Besides, I think it’d make a pretty cool picture.”

“Not helpful.” he glared. A few seconds later, he groaned. “Alright, you guys win.” While they cheered, he marched himself over to the Armory, as his parents called it, and put on his HAZMAT suit. He hated the feel of the thing, but any form of safety was appreciated at the moment.

He subconsciously noted that the suit no longer felt completely like rubber, as though it had been remade with some kind of cloth that had rubber mixed in with it. Still, changed into it behind the curtain in the Armory. He would’ve much preferred to keep his clothes on under it, but it was too tight for that to be an option. Pulling the black gloves on, he rejoined his friends in the lab proper.

Sam cat-whistled at him. “You look miserable.”

“Like a wet cat.” Tucker agreed.

Danny scowled at them. “Yeah? Why don’t you put this thing on and stand in the portal?”

They both shook their heads. “Your own rules, D,” Sam reminded with a smirk. She held up her flip-phone, ready to take her picture. “Now, hurry up. I want to get outta here before your parents or Jazz comes down.”

Like Jazz would be caught dead coming down here willingly. “Why’d you ask to come down here if you didn’t wanna be caught down here?” Regardless, Danny relented, picking his way across the floor and to the empty mass of the portal lodged into the wall.

It was still as foreboding as the first - and only other - time it’d gone near it. It looked bright from this side, the combination of the bright lab lights and the LEDs lining the space behind it gave the illusion of brightness. Danny knew, however, that it was much darker on the inside.

He stepped over the threshold of the octagonal archway and into the dark, ten-foot void behind it. Again, as he’d observed the first time stepping into the thing, the glowing blue circuitry that was embedded into the metal sheeting on the walls seemed to make the hallway dimmer, the white LED work lights lining the floor doing nothing to brighten it. He knew there were cables on the floor, but he could no longer see them; his parents had covered them in black that matched the floor.

Not bringing a flashlight was probably a mistake.

The sound in the lab seemed nearly gone, too, taken over by the humming of electricity running through the ten-foot hallway he now stood in. He could hear faint murmurs of Tucker and Sam talking, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He had a really, really bad feeling about this.

Just before he turned around, he heard the distinct sound of a phone’s camera shutter. It cut through the electrical hum surrounding him like a hot knife through butter. It startled him, and he jumped. His foot caught on a cable, tripping him up. He flailed for a second,disappointing his Mother’s training, before catching himself on the wall. There was a soft click as his hand sunk into the wall. Behind him, there were two screams.

Danny’s final thought before the pain of the situation registered in his head was, “Now I’ll never get to touch the stars.”

Some think that when you die, it’s peaceful. Brain activity doesn’t stop for another five minutes after the body dies, so most people think that those five minutes is your life replaying for you as one final dream, lulling you into either your afterlife or into your next life or into non-existence.

The body dies, so sensation must stop, too, right? The brain stops sending signals to the body because it stops responding.

Danny would like to say that, in his humble opinion, as well as basing it off his own experience, those people are full of shit.

He died, but he didn’t stop feeling. Even when he’d been sure he’d gone numb from dying and reviving and dying and reviving over and over again, he still felt every signal that had been sent through his body.

Five minutes after the body dies, the brain dies. Danny’s didn’t, not even after ten minutes. It kept sending signals to his pain receptors, telling them that he was being ripped apart and pieced back together so fast that the actions were near simultaneous!

He wasn’t sure if it was just a rift into another dimension/world that had opened up on top and through him, or if another dimension/world had been dragged to and through him. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to know. He just knew that it was painful and that he wanted it to stop.

Overall, it wasn’t an experience he’d wish upon even his worst enemy.

“Danny!” He heard the sob over the ringing in his ears, though it was quiet and far away.

“Wha’?” he groaned, his hand moving to his head. “Wha’ t’e ‘ell?”

Two pairs of arms wrapped around him, sending a jolt of pain through his sensitive nerves. “Danny!”

He weakly pushed at them, trying to get them off because contact hurts! “‘et offa me!”

The two pulled back, fussing over him without touching him.

“Danny!” Tucker sobbed, “Are you okay? Obviously not; that was a stupid question. Can you see? Can you hear? Can you feel anything?”

Danny nodded. “I can feel that everything hurts,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He opened his eyes, closing them right after, then he tried again slowly. He blinked slowly a few more times before blinking normally. “My sight’s good…mostly.”

“‘Mostly’?” Sam demanded, “What do you mean ‘mostly’?”

He closed his left eye, opened it, then closed his right eye. “That’s not good.”

“What?” Tucker asked, “What’s not good? You can’t just say that-!”

“My left eye. I can’t see.”

“What?!”

He ignored them, focusing on his hearing. He covered his left ear, uncovered it, and covered his right. “Do me a favor and say something?” He recovered his left ear.

“Like- like what?” Tuck asked nervously. Both he and Sam were watching Danny’s hands.

Dany nodded, covering his right ear and uncovering his left. “Again?”

Sam spoke this time, “What do you want us to say?”

Danny froze for a second, scrambling to stand up. The two followed after, steadying him when he almost fell back down. His eyes widened and he forced Tucker onto his left side, keeping Sam on his right. “Say something, both of you.”

The two shared a look over his head before Sam said, “You’re scaring us, jerk, what’s wrong?” and Tucker said, “What’s going on, man?”

He stumbled again, his full weight dropping onto his friends as they caught him, sending all three of them to the floor in a heap. “...I can’t hear.”

It was quiet. “...what?”

“My-my left ear-! I- It’s ringing and I can’t hear-!”This would mess everything up! It couldn’t be permanent, right? It was just the aftershocks of whatever the hell just appended to him! He’d be fine in a few hours, a few day’s tops. He’d be able to hear again and see again. It’d be fine.

He forced his breathing to slow, focusing back on what Sam and Tuck were saying to him.

“Are-are you back with us, D?” He hated that her voice sounded so small. It didn’t suit her in the slightest.

He nodded. “Y-yeah. Let’s…let’s get outta here, yeah?”

The two nodded, each grabbing an arm to help him up. When he was standing again, an arm over either of his friends’ shoulders, he finally saw the portal.

It was toxic green, the colour of radiation in cartoons. The room seemed to be darker, near pitch closest to the portal, but it staved it off with its green glow. Was it absorbing the light? The overhead lights were all working perfectly fine. The green was moving, swirling with darker green lines mixed in with it. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.

They left the lab.

Sam’s parents paid for Danny’s hospital trip a week later. For as much as they hated him, they weren’t about to let him pay for a hospital trip with his own allowance because his parents were neglectful and didn’t even know he’d been hurt.

And Sam promised to wear pink at the next party she’d attend.

So, Danny sat on the hospital bed, waiting for the doctor or nurse or someone to come tell him that his hearing and sight were going to come back. They asked a lot of questions that he didn’t like, but he answered them anyway.

“How did this happen?”

“There was an accident in my parents’ lab.”

“Where were your parents?”

“Gone. They left the lab unlocked and I wanted to see what they were working on.”

This was his fault. Under no circumstances were Tucker or Sam to take any of the blame. He got hurt because of his own stupidity.

The doctor had told him and Sam’s father - because he wasn’t allowed to go alone - that they’d have to call Jack and Maddie and explain the situation. He begged them not to; they had enough on their plates! Besides, it’s not like they’d care. He didn’t let them call Jazz, either. She had enough to worry about. He can take care of himself. He did, however, compromise with them. Until he turned eighteen, his legal guardian changed, or he became emancipated, Jeremy Manson was to be alerted wherever he had to go to the hospital. Jeremy was slightly upset by this, but he allowed it. He didn’t like Dany, but he hated the Fenton parents even more. Besides, it would look good socially if it was found out by the public.

“Thank you for being here, Mr. Manson.” Danny said. They were still waiting for the doctor to come back.

Mr. Manson gave a tight smile. “It’s okay. I don’t like you, but I don’t want to see you hurt.” He sighed in frustration. “It’s no secret that me and Pamala don’t like your parents, but this only puts them in an even worse light. What are they thinking? Leaving their lab unlocked-! No, even having a lab in the first place!”

“Mr. Manson!” Danny called, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, Daniel. You got seriously hurt. Your friend Tuker or my darling Samantha could’ve been seriously hurt! That’s not anywhere near okay!”

“‘Danyal’.” he corrected lightly, “My name is pronounced ‘Danyal’. And it’s okay because it was my fault.”

Mr. Manson shook his head again, locking eyes with Danny. “Listen to me, Danyal-” Danny smiled slightly at the pronunciation correction. “-This is not your fault. Your parents allowed access to their lab by leaving the door unlocked. Anything that happened in that lab was their fault, okay?”

Danny shook his head. “But-”

“No,” the man cut off. He took a breath and sat down. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

He hesitated for a moment, weighing his options in his head. On one hand, he could totally handle keeping it a secret. On the other hand, what did he have to keep secret? It would probably be good for an adult to know what happened, especially on the off chance that he doesn’t actually fully heal from it.

Danny took a deep breath. “Promise you won’t be mad at anyone?”

Confused, Mr. Manson nodded, “No more than I already am.”

“Okay,” he nodded to himself, “Okay. So, We were at my place, watching TV. I mentioned what my parents were working on, and Sam said she wanted to see it. I told them it was a bad idea, but Tucker wanted to, too, and I wasn’t about to let them go down there on their own and potentially get hurt!” He breathed deep again. “Sam said she wanted a picture of the portal - that’s what my parents have been working on - and she told me to go stand in it. I told her to go stand in it because I’ve been in it before - last year about - and I didn’t like it because it gave off a weird vibe. Anyway, she and Tuck ganged up on me because I told them not to touch anything in the lab and they made me go stand in the portal. I changed, and stepped into the thing.” Another deep breath. “But, it’s really weird in there because it’s so dark, no matter how much light there was in the tunnel or in the lab itself - and it was really quiet, too. I didn’t know that Sam was gonna take the picture, so when she did, the sound startled me- It just sounded so loud…” He slowed down a bit with a smaller inhale. “I tripped and caught myself on the wall, but I guess my parents put the ‘on’ switch on the inside…I hit it when I tripped.” He felt tears running down his cheeks. His voice got quieter. He was aware that there was another person in the room now, probably the doctor. “It hurt. It hurt so bad!It felt like I was being ripped apart and put back together again over and over and- I think I died…” He felt himself paling. “I died Mr. Manson! I-!” Sobs cut him off, heavy and body shaking. He felt himself get pulled into a hug.

Mr. Manson had his arms around Danny, holding him to his chest. Why? Mr. Manson didn’t like Danny, so why..? He leaned into the embrace, tears soaking the man’s shirt.

“And now I can’t see and hear and my arm and hand keep spasming-!”

He continued to cry for nearly an hour. When he was calm enough, he pulled away and wiped his face with his hand. Look at him. Being a civilian for so long has made him soft. He’s crying over such a trivial thing.

The doctor’s voice was soft as she spoke, telling him what was wrong. There was no way to fix what was done, not until he was an adult, at least, because he refused to tell his parents. She recommended hearing aids and glasses because his hearing and sight weren’t gone, but they may as well have been. She also explained, after he’d told them about hitting the button, that because the point of contact had been his hand, he was going to have issues with touch and muscle spasms. She said it was nerve damage and that compression cuffs would help him. The chronic pain, however, would follow him for the rest of his life. She had also noted the lichtenberg scars trailing from his hand, up his arm, down his chest and back, up his neck, and up to his eye, over his ear. They were faint enough to not be seen at first, but they were noticeable upon further inspection.

At the end of the visit, Mr. Manson paid and drove him home. Before he could get out of the car, Mr. Manson said, “Thank you for telling me. And, thank you for keeping Samantha safe.”

Danny smiled smally at him. “It’s alright, Mr. Manson. I don’t ever plan on letting her or Tucker get hurt if I can help it. Besides, I didn’t do much of anything.”

“That’s not true,” Mr. Manson shook his head. “And, please, call me Jeremy.”

“But you don’t like me, Mr. Manson,” he tilted his head slightly.

Mr. Manson laughed. “Call it an olive branch, okay?”

Danny chuckled. “Okay, Mr. Jeremy.”

The man shook his head. “I’m glad you told me. I’ll talk to Pamala; You’re welcome in our home if you ever need to leave this place, okay?”

“Okay, Mr. Jeremy.” He nodded and got out of the car. “Thank you, again.”

“Anytime.”

He closed the door and watched as Mr. Jeremy drove off. Then, he checked the mailbox. Still no letter. With a sigh, he adjusted the strap of the bag he was holding - supplies the hospital had given him to help that Mr. Jeremy paid for - and went into his house.

Jack and Maddie weren’t home again, likely getting more supplies and stuff to stock the lab. After he’d opened the portal, he’d sent Sam and Tucker home; he didn’t want them there when his parents saw the activated portal. They’d celebrated when they saw it, taking him and Jazz to dinner. Then, they’d locked themselves down in the lab with the portal, studying it and making stuff to use on whatever came through. If anything ever came through. During the day, they’d spend a few hours out of the house, gathering things to study whatever they caught coming through. Honestly, Danny didn’t know when they had time to sleep or eat.

He hoped that nothing ever came through. He hoped that the portal would destabilize and shut down. He hoped a lot of things.

Sitting at the desk in his room, the door closed, Danny picked up a pencil. He was ambidextrous, though he mostly used his left hand. Until recently, that is. The handwriting was horrible compared to writing with his left, but he had to let Damian know what had happened.

***

Damian Wayne, Sept. 8th, 2013

I don’t know if you got my last letters, nor do I know if you want to hear from me, but there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore.

I was in an accident a few days ago. My foster parents have been working on a portal into another dimension since they were in college. Recently, they got the final product done and built in our basement. Sam and Tucker wanted a picture of me in it, so I went in and I tripped-

***

The pencil fell through his fingers and clattered on the desk, rolling off before falling to the floor, stopping a few inches away. Danny stared at his hand. He didn’t finish the letter.

Translation 1 - Romanian: Stoll no letter, huh? Translation 2 - Romanian: Nope Translation 3 - Romanian: Cheer up! At least you know he's alright? He and his family have been posting on their socials regularly. Translation 4 - Arabic: Cheer up, she says. If it were that easy, I'd be the happiest person in the world. Translation 5 - Romanian: What was that? Translation 6 - Romanian: Nothing! … How do you know that they're posting regularly? Do you follow the Waynes? Translation 7 - Romanian: Of course I follow the Waynes! At first it was because everyone followed them, but then you told me that Damian Wyane is your brother? I couldn’t not check in on them. Translation 8 - Romanian: I didn't- How did you find out Damian's my brother? I never told you that. Translation 9 - Romanian: Because I’m just that awesome! … It wasn’t that hard, Danny. You two look almost exactly alike.

Part 6 Part 8

#Tales of Conquest. Warnings of Fools #Letters Between Brothers #part 7 #word count: 5.5k #my writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfic #dc x dp #ghouls and gang writing event 2024 #dpxdcbang2024 #g&g24

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autisticlenaluthor · 2 years ago

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Maroon

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

It’s the first thing Kara says when she opens the door. Her eyes go wide and her brows shoot up– an involuntary response to the sight in front of her. And immediately, Lena retracts. She smiles, the way she always does when uncomfortable, and lifts her hands in defense.

“Shoot– I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that,” Kara stammers. “You look great– I mean, you always look great, really! I- I don’t know why I said that. Like– you could step on me, and I’d probably thank you.”

She doesn’t know why that last bit slips out either. But it does. And for a solid five seconds, she freezes, beet-faced as she stares at Lena, who stares back, with brows raised so high her forehead creases to accommodate them.

“I am… so sorry for that,” Kara murmurs after what feels like an eternity.

She steps aside so her friend can enter the apartment and awkwardly adjusts her glasses, mentally kicking herself for, well, everything.

Because really, Lena doesn’t look bad. If anything, it’s the opposite. In a black button-down and plaid dress pants, Lena remains the most stunning woman Kara has ever seen. For embarrassing as they all were, not a word of Kara’s ramblings had been dishonest.

“I just…” Kara shuts the door and fidgets uncomfortably as she approaches Lena. “It’s like a million degrees out, are you gonna be comfortable?”

“I just came from work,” Lena responds. Her voice is flat, her posture stiff.

“I- I know,” Kara says. “You do look very good.”

Lena smiles. “Thank you.”

She sucks in a breath and glances down at herself. She’d had a feeling this wasn’t the most appropriate attire. Kara had invited her to a baseball game at Aztec Stadium- not to a dinner party or board room. Now that she sees herself next to Kara, she does feel pretty ridiculous.

“Could I…” Lena sucks in a breath. “Do you have something I could borrow?”

“Oh– yeah, of course. Come with me!”

They spend the next fifteen minutes in Kara’s bedroom, Lena perched on the edge of the bed while Kara digs through her closet.

“I can’t wait to get nachos,” she says. “I know technically liquid cheese is kind of disgusting. But I feel like the rules don’t really apply at baseball games.”

Lena hums and nods.

“I’ve actually never been to one,” she says.

Kara turns around, holding a few hangers and pairs of pants.

“Any kind of sports, thing, really. Unless you count high school fencing.” Lena laughs as she says it. “But, I was the one doing the fencing.”

“You fenced?”

“Yeah. For about three years.”

Kara pauses and folds the clothes over her arm.

“Why’d you stop?”

Lena shrugs. “I guess I got bored.”

“You got bored sword fighting?”

“Yeah, well…” Lena gives a teasing smile and raises an eyebrow. She’s going to make a remark about how she is a Luthor and after a while, the weaponry in fencing begins to feel a bit juvenile. But she keeps it in, unsure of how a joke like that will land.

Thankfully, Kara doesn’t seem to notice the hesitation. She stays in the swing of things and holds up two pieces from her pile– a maroon tank top and jeans.

“What about this?” She asks.

“I don’t know…” Lena stretches out the words.

She tilts her head and scrunches up her nose as she says it. Kara can pull the look off. She’s nothing if not beautiful in her National City Warriors t-shirt and ripped denim shorts. But with her, it’s different. Because Kara’s muscular and tall. She’s got a sunshine smile and the softest golden waves. And as goofy as she may be, with her baseball cap and fanny pack slung across her body, she’s still her. She’s still perfect.

“Don’t you think I’ll look silly?”

“No, I think you’ll look cute,” Kara answers without an ounce of hesitation. “But it’s up to you.”

Lena rises from the bed and steps forward to take the outfit from her friend. She wants to ask if Kara has another one of those big tees but the words escape her.

“Okay,” she says after a moment. “I’ll try it.”

She strips and changes in front of her (with Kara, it’s never felt strange) while Kara talks to her about everything going on at CatCo. The new intern who Ms. Grant brought to tears on her first day (she brought her a mocha instead of a white mocha) and the techie who was fired for trying to steal one of the company tablets.

“Lena!” Kara exclaims when she’s done.

“What?”

Instinctive arms wrap themselves around Lena’s abdomen. She’s so exposed in this. Her stomach protrudes over the waistline of the jeans and the unfaded stretch marks she normally covers with concealer are visible. She’s too casual, she’s too sloppy, too–

“You look so good!”

Kara claps her hands together. She’s smiling so bright her eyes get all squinty and dimples appear on either side of her mouth.

“Wait- can I do something? Can I touch your hair?” She asks.

Kara's s so happy Lena can’t help but oblige. She nods and smiles, letting her friend come over to her and carefully take the bobby pins out of her bun. She moves slowly with hands so gentle. It’s a welcome break from the nights when Lena gets home and rips them out fast enough that they take clumps of hair with them.

“You look so nice,” Kara softly reiterates as she removes the first hair tie. “I don’t know what it is but you just… you feel so human, I guess.”

The bun collapses into a ponytail and Kara carefully pulls out the second hair tie. She rakes smooth fingers through Lena’s hair, pulling it all back behind her shoulders.

“Human?” Lena chuckles.

“Yeah… I guess I’ve never really seen you outside of your work clothes. You’re always so put together but you just– I mean, you’re always beautiful. And now…” Kara hesitates. She needs something to do with her hands, so she goes back to combing out Lena’s hair. She can feel her face filling with heat, thankful Lena’s back is to her. “You feel less… less far away. Like, you’re less of an entity and more…”

Lena turns around. Her expression is relaxed, save the knit in her brow, like she finally released the breath she’d been hanging onto.

For a moment, she waits, clinging to Kara’s every last word, needing to know where she’ll land. But Kara falls quiet. She’s too focused on the inch of space between them. They’re so close she can smell Lena’s warm vanilla lotion and the faint scent of coffee on her breath, see the scab from where she chews her lip, and the freckles under faded foundation.

“You…” She tries again but the word gets caught in her throat.

“Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I…”

Lena takes Kara’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers as she steps forward and closes the gap between them. When their lips touch, she waits to feel the fireworks. The butterflies in her stomach, fluttering and pouncing with glee. But instead of an explosion that overtakes her, it’s a calm that washes over her body. Warmth that starts where Kara’s body meets hers, radiating all the way down to the tips of her toes.

It feels right. It feels safe.

When she finally pulls away, Kara’s sunshine smile instantly returns.

“You good?” She asks with a laugh, giving Lena’s hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” Lena says, smiling in a way that causes her nose to get all scrunchy and small. “I’m really good.”

#supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #supercorp ficlet #supercorp fanfiction #lena luthor #kara danvers

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tellmeallaboutit · 1 year ago

Text

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 5, In Which You Turn Out To be Capable of More Than You Thought

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 (Part 2)

AO3

You had the sweetest dreams.

You lived in a beautiful mansion in a world where capitalism had fallen (which did not prevent you from living in a mansion), you no longer had to work (well, because capitalism had obviously fallen) and, most importantly, you became Raphael's one and only dark consort (you were not sure how capitalism fit into this narrative), whom he cherished and loved more than anyone, even more than the Crown above his horns.

Perched atop Raphael’s lap in the throne room, surrounded by a crowd of souls kneeling before you and begging for your mercy (including your high school bully Thomas, who once locked you up in the bathroom, and the ex who cheated on you), you suddenly heard the distinct ringtone of a Teams call. It's a sound that could never be mistaken for anything else; it could be used as a method of torture.

You made a mental note to suggest this to Raphael later on.

The call seemed downright disrespectful to your new status as the Archduchess of all Hells, so you ignored it; surprisingly, it did not stop. Thinking about how you would ask Raphael to execute whoever disturbed your bliss, you stretched out your hand to swipe the huge green button that was being projected right across the throne hall.

"Anya?" The voice on the other end was familiar, but you couldn't place it.

Your mind struggled to come to life and make sense of your surroundings.

Why were you lying naked?

What time was it?

Why did your whole body ache?

And why was there a wet patch beneath you?

To answer at least the last question, you reached down to touch the moisture between your legs, and saw thick white liquid coating your fingers in the soft morning light. You went for a sniff: smelt like a freshly burned match and salty musk.

Oh, fuck.

Okay, so Raphael wasn't big on safe sex (which probably should have been expected from someone who lived in the House of Hope). Not that you remembered asking him for protection. Not that you were able to or wanted to. The thought of him coming inside you seemed insanely hot yesterday; but now, in the clear light of day, it just seemed insane.

Don’t human women all die horribly giving birth to half-devils?

The voice on the phone called out again, "Anya, are you still there? Are you okay?"

“Yes?”, you responded hesitantly and pulled your fingers away from your nostrils.

"You're fifteen meetings late for our meeting," the voice reminded you, and you finally remembered who it belonged to.

Your supervisor. Not a bad guy, not a good guy, just a burnt out middle-aged man who never imagined himself stuck in middle management while going through a messy divorce.

"We had a meeting?" You asked, even though somewhere deep down in your foggy brain you knew very well that you did have one scheduled.

You sat down on the bed and did you best to suppress a moan: your arse was bruised raw.

“Your development talk, Anya”, your supervisor sighed. “Did you… did you just wake up? It’s fifteen past ten.”

Quick, think of a believable excuse. Your cat died? No, he knows you don't have one. Your grandmother passed? No, that would be disrespectful to her memory. You were robbed? No, then you wouldn't be sleeping so soundly...

"No, I...I didn't," you stammered, desperately trying to come up with something, anything.

"Do you want to turn your camera on?" He asked. "It helps during these talks."

No, you didn't want to turn on your camera unless you wanted to make absolutely sure he saw you stark naked - which was definitely not going to work in your favour (or maybe it would, but you didn't want to test it). You shifted on the bed (your bed made a very obvious, very loud creaking noise) and your supervisor cleared his throat.

“I am not feeling too well, sorry”, you said. “I’d rather not”.

That wasn't entirely false - between the sore arse and what felt like bite marks on various parts of your body and what the hell was that purple bruise on your thigh?

There was silence before he spoke again, "Well then...I guess we're halfway done here. Did you hear about the news?"

“The news?”, you echoed.

"You haven't checked our company website?"

Does anyone actually bother to check those?

"Mmm-hmm," You responded noncommittally.

"Okay," your supervisor sighed. "We've been acquired, and as a result, there will be some changes and layoffs."

"Oh," was all you could manage to say.

"I'm currently making a list of potential layoffs."

"Oh," you repeated, starting to understand where this conversation was going.

"Anya," he began, his tone more serious now. "I don't want to sound harsh, I have enjoyed working with you. As a friendly suggestion: it might look better on your resume if it appeared that leaving was your own decision."

Hell no, you won’t let the corpo screw you over.

“Hey, no, I want a severance package. I’ve been working for this company for three years”.

"Sure," he responded. "You are fully entitled to it. But first, we'll have to review your work activity. You know, what you did on your work computer, which websites you visited, how often you were active."

Maybe you’ll let the corpo screw you over.

“Never mind,” you surrendered. “I’ll come by today to pick up my stuff.”

“I am glad we could find a mutually beneficial decision”, your supervisor said, wished you a nice day, dropped off the call, and left you naked and pissed off.

As you got up, you felt something dripping down your legs. Wonderful, washing Raphael’s cum off the carpet sounded like the perfect start to your morning. You used your blanket to clean yourself (it would be easier to wash later) and dragged yourself to the bathroom.

On your way there, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but let out an exasperated laugh. The make-up from yesterday was still smeared on your face in dark trails, making you look like a freshly fired and thoroughly fucked racoon.

Sighing, you stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash away Raphael's seed, sweat and the remnants of yesterday's make-up. Oh, you thought as you washed it all away: maybe you should have brought some of Raphael's DNA to study in the lab. Then you would have a solid proof. They also might have found a way to breed powerful cambion super-soldiers.

Anya, why do you always have to think such bullshit? Raphael is from Dungeons & Dragons, not Warhammer.

Your bruises ached even worse under the hot water.

“You know, Raphael”, you spoke to yourself as you wrapped yourself in a towel. “I start to think there might be some issues with our relationship”.

Your phone chimed with a message.

"good morning my lovely girl," it read, instantly piquing your interest.

Oh, wow. Okay, you guys might have some issues, but he is certainly kind of sweet. You were about to pick up your phone to type something as sweet back (good morning my favorite devil?), when another notification popped up.

“Did you know your Raul is one of the richest people in the country??”

Ah, damn. Your mum seemed to be in an excellent mood - why was that?

Probably because “Raul” made it to some mightiest and greatest list.

“I hope the date went well please call love mama god bless 🙏🥰”

As soon as you got yourself dried up, you were scanning the corporate website (last time you checked it when you prepared for an interview); the acquisition news was on the front page. You hastily scanned through the article.

“…was yesterday acquired by Avernus Capital AG, Zürich. The legal aspects of the transaction were handled by the Managing Partner Raul d'Avergni…”

By whom?

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Raphael! So you can remember to get me fired but a condom slips your mind? Does he even know what those are? Has he ever needed to use one?

Ah, now you understand why he hadn’t called for the whole three days. He was working hard on fucking up your life. Screw reigning over the nine hells as the Archdevil Supreme when there's a girl who spent six months after graduation hunting this job (damn this economy) to torment.

Yes, you hated your job, but it paid the bills. Your emergency fund would cover one month expenses, tops. Raphael gave you a thousand over Twitch, that was nice, but that won’t last long either. If you buy plan B and visit a gyno, that’s one hundred less, easy. You can’t ask your mother for any help, either - she could barely make ends meet as it is.

Fine. Breathe in, breathe out. Perhaps he got you fired to offer you a better job; wasn't that what he mentioned yesterday? That’s right. Your work for me is not yet done, he said. That’s it; he has another job and needs all of your free time.

You grabbed your phone to call him to confirm; and then you realized you still did not have his number, all the times he called you (which was exactly one) it was from a no caller ID.

So much for that plan. Fine, the other way, then. You fired up BG3, the save from his Sharess Caress room.

The sight of his avatar and the inviting huge bed behind him stirred a pang of longing in you. "Hey, I miss you," you murmured to the screen, "Could you call me, please?"

“Give me the Crown that dominates the elder brain”, Raphael answered, not a line off the scripted talk.

“I already did that and now you are here. What’s the next task?”.

“A crown for a hammer, a deal of a lifetime”, Raphael ignored you and carried on with his talk with Tav.

The devil didn't toss you any curveballs, no ad-libbed lines or cheeky glances that shattered the fourth wall; just the same old scripted scenarios you'd already seen and played through. You jumped between saves, but nada. Your mum called you three or four times in the meanwhile. You shot her a short message that everything was okay (everything wasn’t), and you’ll call her later.

Next, you scrolled through the missed discord notifications, filled with images and screen caps of Raphael and other Tavs, hundreds of other Tavs, elves, tieflings, humans, a wide gallery of his bloody harem (especially the modded Durges got under your skin) from the new romance scene Larian dropped. You were very tempted to tell them all about your night with Raphael and how it was the best sex you've ever had and on an unrelated note, do all women really die if they give birth to cambions?

But then again, you’ve been called crazy enough lately. Better to delete the whole app.

Who has time to chat in discord? Definitely not people with full-time jobs.

…Right.

In the afternoon, you decide to go to your office in the center of the city to pick up the few things they still had and hand in the things you still had . Company badge, laptop, chargers; three years' work fit into a cardboard box. Your last pay cheque will arrive on Friday, they said.

Thank you for your hard work and dedication, and for making us a euro while we give you a cent and go get lost. Interviewing for them took a whole day; leaving them took half an hour.

The office was half empty; the few who were there were preparing to celebrate the grand occasion of being taken over by Avernus Capital (wouldn’t have happened without you, by the way, and you doubted that the new owner would be that nice). You mumbled a few hellos and how do you dos, but you realised (not that you ever thought otherwise) how little you cared for these people, and how little they cared for you.

The only one you really wanted to talk to you couldn't be reached.

Wait, but Raphael's office was only two underground stations away, you thought. If you can't call, maybe you can pay him a visit and congratulate him in person on his great acquisition.

Raphael's office, a multi-storey eighteenth-century building with the golden letters D'Avergni & Partners plastered all over it, looked very unwelcoming from the outside; inside it had all the warmth of a mausoleum. Dark grey walls loomed around you, somewhere between an art gallery and a prison cell. Art Deco furniture with sharp angles filled the space as floor-to-ceiling windows let in cold shards of light. You were stopped dead at the reception desk.

The receptionist's lips curved into a polite smile as you approached.

She actually seemed nice, not the snotty bombshell type usual at such kinds of places; she had a tired smile and dark bags under her make-up.

"I would like to see Raul d'Avergni," you said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

She looked at you as if you had entered a church and asked for a personal audience with God. Doubt gnawed at your resolve, but retreating now would be even more awkward.

Some young men, sipping coffee from their plastic cups next to an espresso robot, looked at you curiously through their thick-rimmed glasses.

"Good morning!" chirped the receptionist, regaining her composure. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Ugh, no..." you replied, trying to sound confident. “I'm his (what, what, what?)… his girlfriend, actually”.

Brilliant.

She arched her eyebrows slightly, looking at your "Astarion approves" badge on your rucksack, which had seen quite a bit of action in its life (the summer festivals!), then at your "nique la police" T-shirt. Yes, you didn't give much thought to what you were wearing, but then again, you weren't planning to visit Raphael when you came here.

The receptionist did her best to remain professional, but you could sense that she was very doubtful about your statement.

"I am afraid Mr. d'Avergni is in meetings all day today," she offered with an apologetic smile. "Perhaps you could try calling him if it is a private matter?"

Yeah, great idea. Your cheeks flushed as embarrassment washed over you. Of course his girlfriend would have his number.

"You do have his private number, don't you?" she continued, her smile unwavering.

Now you felt like a complete idiot. The girl was obviously too tired to make fun of you, but the stares and whispered giggles of the posh idiots behind your back were not nice.

“Sure I do," you blurted out. "Just still couldn't reach him for some reason and it’s pretty urgent. Anyway, just let Raul know I stopped by. My name is Anya. Anya Berger."

"Of course," she replied in that 'not-a-chance' tone. "Have a nice day, Mrs Berger."

You retreated with your dignity in tatters and headed for the exit. What on earth possessed you to come here? You could have just as easily gone to the Microsoft headquarters and said you brought Bill Gates some home-made pancakes, and by the way, where was he?

Fuck.

As you made your way out, you heard the young man with framed glasses murmur to his coworker, "Such bullshit." You couldn't help but eavesdrop. "I've seen the birds Raul brings to the parties and they are top-notch. Not some..."

You stopped in your tracks. Normally, you were not the scandalous type (you were a people pleaser, if anything), but if the world wanted to treat you like a doormat, you would at least bark back.

“Not some what?”, you asked before he would finish the sentence.

"Oh, my apologies, miss. I wasn't talking to you. It was just a conversation with my colleague," he responded with a saccharine smile. All these guys sported slicked-back hairdos, boxy glasses and Patagonia vests. Your socks had more personality than these fucks.

“You were talking about me, you Patrick Bateman knock-off. So, what did you want to say?”

His faux-polite smile vanished in an instant.

"Wow, okay”, the guy sneered. “What did I want to say? In a completely unrelated conversation, I wanted to say that giving a drunk blowjob on a Tuesday night doesn't make someone anyone's girlfriend."

“You know what he will do with you if I ask him to?”, you said, your fists clenched.

You did realise how much of a cunt you sounded, but Raphael burned a guy’s mouth for calling him a two pump chump; surely he can burn this guy for being a jerk to you, too.

There should be some benefit in being Devil’s special little mouse, right?

The guy just scoffed at your threat, small drops of coffee landing on your face. His coworker looked embarrassed and quickly looked away.

"Oh, I don't know," the guy retorted, "Why don't you call Mr. d'Avergni and ask him to fire me? Oh wait… do you really have his number?"

You couldn't come up with a clever response, so your anger gave you a bad one.

“I hope a damn bus runs you over”, you grumbled under your breath.

For a split second, you found yourself hoping that very scenario would unfold. That some rogue city bus would burst through the wall and flatten him. Once wasn’t enough; it’d reverse and do it again for good measure.

Alas, no such luck.

The security at the door started to pay attention, but you didn't want to cause any more of a scene.

You chose to rise above (not that you had any choice) and strutted away.

"Mr. d’Avergni is not going to call you back, nut job," the guy called after you. "He's way out of your league."

Your fingers clenched around the straps of your rucksack, knuckles white as you retreated.

The moment you left the posh building behind, you felt terrible. In an attempt to make yourself feel a little better, you grabbed a subway sandwich with some extra ham and a sugar bomb coffee from Starbucks, but it did nothing to improve your mood. You found a spot on the steps of the library and sat down to eat and brood everything over.

Let's look at the cold, hard facts. You lost your job, that's one thing. You might be pregnant with a devil's spawn that'll tear you apart on its way out, that's two. You've only saved enough money to get by, that's three. And on top of that, some yuppie jerk ridiculed you.

That's four. On the plus side... on the plus side...

Well, you had the best sex of your life last night (by a large, large margin). Just thinking about that orgasm made you dizzy. And that kiss. His lips. His hazel eyes. The way Raphael looked in a waistcoat with a cigar. The way he looked at you.

…yeah.

You stared into the distance, catching the outline of a Catholic cathedral out of the corner of your eye. A thought occurred to you then; Raphael had been so irked by your cross. Going to an actual church will probably make Raphael jealous of the other Big Guy with the magical powers (even though he hadn’t demonstrated them for at least some centuries) that he might actually come out and talk to you.

You wolfed down the rest of the sandwich and got up.

The cathedral door, huge, twice your size, seemed to be closed. In the old days, you would have just walked away; it was clear you weren't welcome. But now, with all the rules and logic thrown out the window, you pushed against it and, lo and behold, it did open for you.

At first glance, the cathedral seemed devoid of life. There is something utterly captivating about an empty cathedral, as there is about all things that are not supposed to be empty. It was a beautiful church; no doubt about that. Obscenely rich, too, gold gilded altars and towering stained glass windows that painted kaleidoscopic patterns on cold marble floors. Marble statues of angels stood sentinel along the walls. Why do they always have these judgemental looks on their faces? Sinner, sinner, sinner.

I am; so fuck off.

Far richer than any church should be, and yet the first humble wooden box that caught your eye was "DONATIONS WELCOME".

As you navigated towards the altar (a good half-minute journey across the vast nave), you discovered you weren't alone after all; an elderly pastor dozed in his throne-like chair and a choirboy leafed through sheet music by the monstrous organ pipes.

"Lord Almighty," the pastor creaked as he looked at you. "How did you get in?"

"The door?" you said, gesturing behind you.

He blinked twice.

"I was sure I had locked it. Oh, my memory. Getting old is no fun, child, I can tell you that."

The pastor was one of the types desperately trying to pass themselves off as your friend.

"Should I go or..." you asked, not really wanting to go anywhere.

The moment you stepped through the door of the church, you felt like you were crossing worlds again; the mundane real world was behind the door, and the world where interesting things happened was right there.

"Or no... Please stay," said the priest. "If you're here, it must be God's will. We don't turn anyone away. It's not like we've had many newcomers lately."

That might have something to do with being kid fiddlers, you thought, looking at the choirboy in the white and red outfit - fourteen, fifteen at the most - but you said nothing and came closer.

"And what brings you to the house of God, my child?" The priest's smile was warm and inviting. "Would you like to make a confession?"

No, no, absolutely not.

“Or, no”, you chuckled nervously. “No, Father, I wanted…”

(to piss off the devil by coming to the church)

“I wanted…to ask you… I wanted to ask you about the devils.”

The choir boy looked up in interest.

“I wanted…to ask you… I wanted to ask you about the devils.”

The choir boy looked up in interest.

"The devils?" the pastor asked incredulously, rubbing the dust off his glasses. "There is but one; you probably mean demons. What about them?"

"Just, ugh... Say, I am haunted by one. Ah, no, you are haunted by ghosts; possessed, then. What would be the procedure?"

You didn't really know what you were asking for. You didn't really believe that there was a step-by-step guide to getting rid of a devil in your bed, especially if you invited him, especially if you liked him very much.

The priest put his hand on his belly and laughed, the old wheezing laugh of a man with a heart condition. God, it smelt like incense in here; such a suffocating smell, as if it was meant to dull any common sense.

"My child," he said, putting a fatherly hand on your shoulder. "The Church may have its doctrines, but the idea of demons is simply a metaphor. A representation of our transgressions, our weaknesses."

He laughed a little more and then told you very gently, carefully, as if you were mentally deficient:

"Demons are not real. They are metaphors, allegories".

Having heard all your life that the Devil is watching, the Devil is waiting, and now all of sudden he is not real, and you were pretty sure he had fucked you raw yesterday.

Very helpful, Father. You suddenly felt an urge to bring forth the Antichrist just to spite the entire Catholic Church.

The cathedral door groaned in protest as it swung open once more. You looked over your shoulder.

The man entering the cathedral was the last person who should be treading on consecrated ground.

"Then who the hell is that, Father?" you muttered under your breath.

"Oh, my dear friend!" replied the priest with the broadest of smiles. "What a joy to see you!”

Raphael's attire was nearly identical to the first time you saw him in the cafe: a three-piece suit with a subtle shift in color, now a deep navy. A bit of a dated look of a wheeler and dealer in smoke-filled rooms; something very much “Mad Men” about him.

"Darling, you claimed not to be religious," Raphael smiled at you as he approached and gave you a light kiss on the cheek. "But look where I find you."

"Well, you're also the last person I would expect to see in a church," you replied.

"Why is that?” The priest asked. “This man has done more for the Church than any other, my dear child!"

They embraced, the priest and the businessman, like good old friends. Well, you always knew that the Church was in cahoots with the Devil, but not so literally. You shook your head at the hypocrisy of the Church, Raphael, and the way things were done in general.

"You exaggerate, Flavio," said Raphael. "Besides, it's my pleasure and duty to contribute to my community. I assume you've already met, but let me introduce you anyway - Anya, my paramour".

Raphael gestured to you. Better tell your colleagues that, you thought, since they doubted it so much. He should also find this guy in the glasses, introduce you to him and then fire him immediately (and have him run over by a bus while he was on his way to collect his things). In fact, that was now your main requirement for staying his little mouse.

"Blessed be, I'm ecstatic for you both," the priest gushed, barely containing his excitement. "Praise the Lord that you are finally doing better, Raul. It's about time..."

Raphael gave him a very cold smile and interrupted with a slight raise of his hand.

“Dimmi, hai preparato i documenti che ti ho chiesto? Il fisco sta facendo dellle indagini”.

"Haha!” the priest laughed. “La tua ragazza è venuta a chiedermi dei diavoli, forse avrei dovuto indicarle l'ufficio delle imposte".

Their conversation dove into rapid Italian, leaving you in the dust. It was rude but precisely their intention. Your attention wandered from them and across the hauntingly beautiful church interior, finally resting on the choir boy standing in the shadows.

He looked very pale. The poor guy was scared, scared shitless. His lips moved soundlessly; words stuck in his throat like swallowed stones. Tracing his petrified stare, your own eyes landed on the towering wall of the church.

The shadow Raphael was casting was not human; wings unfurled from its back and double horns crowned its head. It looked both eerie and beautiful in the soft candlelight. A part of you admired it for its artistic potential; this could be inspiration for some haunting fanart.

Wait a second.

“Do you see it too?” You mouthed silently to the choir boy who nodded frantically, sweat on his forehead.

A surge of relief washed over you - finally someone else shared your madness. But before you could reach out to him, he darted away into the ink-black abyss of the back room. Raphael's touch on your hand halted any thought of following him.

“Ah, pay him no heed,” dismissed the priest nonchalantly. “The boy’s mind is somewhat...disturbed.” He quickly clarified with an awkward laugh: “Not that we judge here – all are welcome under God's roof.”

Even the Devil himself, it seemed.

Your gaze returned to Raphael and then flickered towards the pastor; he either couldn't see or chose to ignore the monstrous shadow of his parishioner.

Or perhaps, he did see it and was merely delighted to meet his true master.

"Take all the time you need, Flavio," Raphael said, his hand dismissive as he sent the pastor scurrying. "We're in no rush."

The priest melted into the shadows of a side corridor, leaving you alone with the Devil in God's house. If Raphael nudged you back just a fraction more, your body would be flush against the cold stone altar.

You found the idea very intriguing.

"Our little escapade last night was quite... memorable, wouldn't you agree?" His fingertips traced a path along your cheekbone. "Did you come here seeking salvation from your sins?"

"Sins? No," you replied coyly. "There are other things that trouble me... Like how I lost my job because of you."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “And how exactly did I manage such a feat?"

"Well, my company was acquired by yours and I was restructured away."

A slight frown creased his brow as he considered this. "So, you were employed by Tenebris? That is an unfortunate twist of fate." He paused before continuing, "Did you enjoy working for them?"

"Not particularly," you admitted, "but it paid my bills and kept me fed."

He smiled, his touch lingering on your skin. "And what price tag did they put on keeping you pliant?"

"Two thousand two hundred euros net”.

And sixty euros. Plus a free travel pass and a discount at a gym you never went to. Plus a yearly bonus!

This revelation seemed to snap him out of his trance-like admiration of you.

"A month?" His tone held an edge of horror and for once, it felt good to see him rattled.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. His gaze was filled with genuine sympathy. It wasn't such a terrible salary - it was above the country's average after all!

"I see," he murmured. "This explains your living situation. My dear Anya, don't let anyone under-value you; your time is worth far more than that. As for your current predicament - and I confess to having contributed to it - I will make amends."

With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain leather wallet. You couldn't resist taking a look yourself; there was a government ID card, a driver's licence and several other cards you couldn't identify. He pulled out a sleek black credit card and handed it over.

"I'll let my banker know you're authorized," he said. “He will contact you with regards to security details”.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," you quickly interjected, pride sparking in your chest. "I can fend for myself."

"Don’t you ever say no to me," Raphael warned with a playful edge to his voice as he pulled you closer into his arms. "It won't end well."

His jesting tone didn't quite mask the threat in his words, but you couldn't help but grin. Whatever he says, the very way he says it is just so nice.

"I'd rather have a job," you said, not sure if you were actually that eager to get back into the corporate grind.

"Then I shall arrange one for you," he grinned. "A prestigious position under a very demanding superior. It will keep you very, very occupied."

You were pretty sure that position was not what you went to college for. Then again, didn't he say yesterday that he had a job for you?

"Consider it limitless," Raphael added nonchalantly while your fingers traced the cool metal of the credit card. "If you manage to find its limit, consider me thoroughly impressed."

Did he want you to splash out on new clothes and the like? But there were more pressing matters at hand. Your mum had just cleared her towering credit card debt and was in need of some expensive dental work. The local cat shelter was on the brink of closure and rent was due.

"I actually wanted to help my mum out a bit, if that's okay, she's, ugh"... you started, rolling the credit card in your hands.

"Anya," Raphael interrupted sternly. "You shall have whatever you wish for.”

You nodded and looked into his eyes, remembering the pleasure of lying under him yesterday and how much you wanted to do so again.

"About last night," you said. "Should I take the morning-after pill..."

Raphael shook his head in disbelief.

"You Catholic girls... No need for that considering our activities last night, but even if there was...I've always envisioned having a family but never found the right woman."

It's such a stupid cliché, you thought, as your stomach fluttered and you let him lean in for a kiss.

But maybe. Just maybe. Maybe he really meant it. He had such a horrible life in hell. Maybe you were the first one…

…the actual first one, the one…

Right . You still don't want to die in childbirth, however flattering Raphael’s words might be. If you pay for Plan B with his credit card, will he see it? Nah, better use your own.

"...right," you murmured against his mouth, then remembered what else was bothering you. "And could you please tell your colleagues that we are together?".

Were you even together, you wondered in sudden fear, but Raphael nodded:

"I'll make it very much known, if that's what you wish for."

Your heart pounded in agreement. The more people knew, the more tangible it felt.

As Raphael's lips melted against yours, you glanced at his shadow on the wall and smiled; he must have thought you were looking at the confessional, for apparently the horned outline of his own shadow was not bizarre to him.

"Would you like to confess? I could absolve you of all sins" Raphael whispered in your ear, his hand slowly but surely tracing the full curve of your arse, still sore from his tail-whipping. "I am afraid you have to commit them first, though”.

He gave it a light squeeze and you yelped; he seemed to revel in the sound.

"We're in the sacred house," you blushed, squirming under his very bold advances and enjoying them very much.

"Indeed we are," Raphael concurred, his hands yanking you into the shadowy Catholic confessional, shoving you in first. The image of him cloaked in his holy robes flashed in your mind and a giggle bubbled up at the sheer audacity of it all. “What better place for blasphemy?”

The cabin was barely big enough for the two of you, dimly lit and very narrow; meant for one person only, the other chamber remained empty, separated only by a small window. The smell of old wood and incense filled your nostrils as he closed the door behind you.

The last time you went to confession, you were a teenager and the priest was so old and ugly that no dirty thoughts crossed your mind; but now you suddenly realised that there was no hotter place on earth.

Raphael's lips brushed your earlobe, his stubble against your cheek, "Kneel before me," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Show me how remorseful you are for cavorting with the Devil."

You weren’t sorry.

Not one bit.

Without hesitation or second thoughts, just like you had before the chair yesterday, you sank to your knees in front of him. Something told you that this will become a familiar position for you in the days to come.

The moment your face was against his groin, Raphael undid his pants. His cock sprang out, large, reddish and throbbing; even better than you had imagined. You couldn't help but wrap your hands around it, almost in disbelief that this thing was so real and so eager for your mouth. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and you licked it off, savouring the salty and musky taste.

Raphael gasped above you, his body tense with pure lust. Your thighs clench together in excitement and you feel the soaked panties stick to your pussy as you feel him guide your head towards his cock.

“Repent, you little sinner”, Raphael muttered, his voice thick with lust. "Plead for your redemption."

Judging by his state, he should be the one pleading.

You teased him with slow, deliberate licks, the tip of your tongue tracing his frenulum up and down (he loved it). You nuzzled your cheek against his rigid shaft, a purr of satisfaction escaping your lips as you lavished it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Each vein was a roadmap for you to follow, every inch of his cock kissed and licked with a fervour that bordered on reverence.

"Enough," he said. "I want to see the depth of your remorse".

Your tongue slid over the top of his head and your lips followed, parting as you slowly took him into your mouth. Raphael moaned and you echoed him, your voice pulsing against his shaft, the church walls echoing the unholy litany. You sucked his cock greedily, desperately, drawing him into a warm, needy vacuum, and the harder you tried, the wetter you became.

You wanted to give Raphael the blowjob of his millennium; you gave everything to serve him, saliva slicking down his shaft, down your chin, down your t-shirt, as every muscle in your mouth worked hard for his pleasure. The world around blurred into nothingness; all you could focus on was the dark thatch of hair framing his groin and the rhythmic motion of his cock sliding in and out of you.

No one ever wanted to suck him off as much as you did, as deep and sloppy and messy as you did. You liked the scent of him, the taste of him, the feeling of him, the sound of him; everything about him; you’d love to suck him dry.

“Keep going”, Raphael let out a moan of such desperate pleasure it could be pain. "Dare to stop and I promise you'll taste hellfire."

As if you had any intention of stopping; this was an act of worship you could perform for eternity.

You glanced up; he was sweated, chestnut locks clinging to his forehead, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows across his face, and you felt more powerful than ever in your life. He tugged his necktie loose and opened the collar, his breathing coming out harsh and shallow. He was at your mercy; at the mercy of your tongue and throat.

Raphael bucked his hips, desperate to thrust in your mouth, and you let him take control; let him grab and hold your head while you simply hang in his grip, pliant and passive, as his cock jerked in and out. He went at it with such ferocity as if he hadn’t fucked for months; which you very well knew not to be true.

Gag reflex kicked in, your body threatening to revolt, and you repressed it with all the will you had, tears gathering in your eyes, and with each move of his hips it became more and more challenging. Thankfully, his bucking became more desperate; your mouth clamped down harder around his cock, and you let your tongue run up and down his shaft.

You felt hot jets of liquid gush against your throat as Raphael cried out, his body shivered and he leaned forward as he came, and you felt stupid happy. A larger bit of his cum dribbled straight down your throat, the rest pooled in your mouth around his cock.

“Swallow”, Raphael said, his voice deeper, rougher now. "Take all of me."

He was not going to pull out, not until every drop of him was inside you, so you made two very deliberate gulps, rolling the slight bitterness of his release on your tongue before you swallowed it all down.

Then you looked up at him like a starving animal - hungry for more. Your fingers carefully gathered the stray droplets of his cum and you greedily licked them off. As a final gesture, you kissed the tip of his cock, to which he cursed under his breath; something in Italian; whichever it was, it sounded hot.

You grinned, licking your lips, so proud of yourself.

"You are divine," Raphael said as he pulled you up by your hair, pressing you hard against the confessional wall before claiming your lips in a rough kiss – tasting himself on them. "Divine. You are a treasure. I cannot believe my own luck. I cannot believe…”

In that moment, if he had told you he loved you, you would have believed him without hesitation.These very words were on the tip of your tongue but you chose to channel it all into the kiss.

The priest's footsteps echoed through the church, amplified by the silence.

"Li ho presi," he happily announced.

Raphael hastily adjusted his clothing, looking genuinely embarrassed for a brief moment. The two of you stumbled out of the confessional, not exactly gracefully.

From the pastor's expression, you could tell he understood what had happened between you and Raphael in the confessional. Your faces were flushed and your hair was disheveled from his hands tugging and pulling on it. Your damp chin, which you hastily wiped with your sleeve, only made things more obvious.

“...Raul," Flavio chided with a tone heavy with disapproval. "I still hope to wed you in this very church, but you're making it exceedingly difficult."

His eyes didn’t even glance at you; apparently, any attempt at salvation or reprimand was wasted on you now.

"I donate millions to this church,” Raphael retorted dismissively, dusting off imaginary lint from his shoulders. "If you want others to overlook certain things, you should be prepared to do the same."

The Father raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he handed over some documents to Raphael.

With that, the audience was over.

The angel statues glared down at you with undisguised contempt; particularly the one clutching a sword. That’s exactly why people turn to devils, you judgemental winged pricks on high horses, you thought. You rolled the aftertaste of devil's cum on your tongue and thought that going to heaven was definitely not in your near future.

Exiting the church, you were met by two armed men standing guard at the doors. For a moment, you thought you were being apprehended for lewd conduct in public. Raphael's security, you realized.. Of course he had security. Both looked like dark, looming, emotionless twin shadows. What were they really? Cambions? Orthons? Surely no one could truly harm him?

You clutched closer to Raphael, his lips brushing your forehead as he attended another phone call.

“Mamma mia,” he blurted out mere moments after he picked up, and a chuckle escaped you at how stereotypically Italian he sounded. You hadn't realized that was an actual phrase they used. His furrowed brows and concerned tone quickly sobered up the mood though, "What happened? Where? Was it on Main Street?"

He looked genuinely troubled and you offered silent comfort by intertwining your fingers with his. He responded with a reassuring squeeze.

“One of my juniors got into a...”, he told you as soon as he had hung up. “Into some macabre road accident”.

Hit by a bus, you realized with a jolt but kept your silence.

You had to witness it yourself.

Without a word, you followed Raphael to the crash scene, the wailing sirens of fire trucks and ambulances echoing in your ears. Security trailed along behind, all of you making your way through the gathering crowd.

The sight that greeted you was both mundane and horrifying, in a way that only real life could be. The bus stood askew, its once deep blue body now painted with crimson streaks. And there, on the cold pavement, was...splattered…what was left of a person.

"I don't know what happened," an older Asian man sobbed nearby, his words falling on deaf ears. "I swear I've been driving this thing for twenty years, I swear I was not drunk..."

The policewoman stood tall and stern above him, her arms crossed in a way that made it clear she had already formed her judgement. Some other kind soul actually offered him an anti-shock blanket. Some less kind souls were taking pictures of their phones. News reports were arriving, too.

This poor man probably had a family to support. What would happen to him now?

You could handle all the exaggerated violence and gore on television, but you absolutely could not watch the man sprawled out on the pavement in real life; or at least what was left of him. It reminded you of the cherry pudding from the evening before. You could see his broken glasses scattered haphazardly on the ground and tears welled up in your eyes.

He was a jerk, sure, but he was also mortal, like you. Now he lay dead, wrapped in plastic sheets, and it could have easily been you.

Where was he now? Did Raphael claim his soul?

Did you cause his death?

You didn't mean for it to happen. Well, maybe you did, but...

“Don’t look, piccola,” Raphael murmured in your ear, his hand shielding your eyes. “You fainted over a cherry pudding once; this is by far worse. Damn it! My youngest and most promising. Just twenty-seven years old and newly engaged. An absolute tragedy.”

The same age as you.

"I'm sorry... he was so rude to me," you choked out between sobs. "I didn't think..."

“Anya, please, it's none of your fault,” Raphael’s voice softened. “Just the cruelty of fate; an accident. We cannot be held responsible for such misfortunes”.

“No?”, you asked with a faint hope.

You were not a bad person, even if you were fucking the devil; in fact, you were going to splurge his credit card on all the animal shelters and children battling cancer to make up for what you had just did. You were not a bad person.

You were not a murderer, no, no, no.

“No,” he repeated and then a slight smile, completely inappropriate to the moment, touched his lips. “Except when very much are responsible; unless we made it happen.”

Raphael’s words made you flinch slightly but he maintained his hold on you.

Yeah, well, you did that, you wanted to say, I did nothing, I only wished for it.

“The driver must have been under the influence,” he continued . “I cannot conceive any other reason for running over a pedestrian at a red light.”

You breathed out. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline, burned rubber and the scent of blood; metallic smell of death.

“Oh, you look rattled, poor thing, look at those tears”, he cooed and offered you a handkerchief with his initials on it. “Anya, love, my apologies, but I have to attend to this immediately. There’s going to be press, rumors that we work people to death that’s why he was not looking around. I need to be there for my company”.

For the company?

“…And for his family, of course”, Raphael added as if reading your thoughts. “That’s his fiance over there, I suppose. Oh, take her away, you morons…”

There she was, the woman in a suit, wailing like a banshee, as somebody tried to hold her close and hug her. What she had seen just now she would never, ever forget.

Raphael held both your shoulders and rotated you to face him.

“You.. you know what? Go shopping, distract yourself a bit. Then call my driver to take you to my place. We'll spend the evening together”.

His words were met with a hollow nod from your side. You cast another side glance at the accident, and he gently turned your face towards him again.

"And learn when to look away," Raphael murmured, punctuating his advice with a soft kiss on your lips, "It's an essential survival skill."

#bg3 raphael #bg3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #fanfic #raphael x tav #raphael x player #raphael x reader #meta #knock knock

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blurryface2 · 10 months ago

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What's your ships?

My ships for this story and dub might change as I read it but for now they are...

Bendy with no one (To focus on plot stuff)

Boris and BaconSoup.

Felix and Oswald. (I like how caring and worrisome Fel is for Ozzy).

Cuphead with Fanny.

Mugman with Clara. (Most clear ship.)

Alice possibly with Willen? (Unless some one else shows up. Don't ship her with Bendy because they have a more fighting siblings situation to me.[plus themeatly said they aren't. ])

Mickey with Minnie obviously.

Daisy and Donald.

And I'm sure you can tell I'm pretty basic with these or go with the og. Ask me any specific ship's and I'll say my opinions on those. :V

I'm not a Bendy and Cuphead shipper.

#inky mystery #babqftim #bendy and boris in the inky mystery #fuck ai #drawing

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depressedhouseplant · 3 months ago

Text

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 61 🔞

Pairing: Hyunjae x Sunwoo

Genre: PW a tiny plot

WC: 825

TW: None

Smut: Oral in public

Prompt: Hyunjae backhugging Sunwoo at the Idol Radio concert

Rating: M

Network: @ksmutsociety

Divider: @cafekitsune

A/N: If you get a minute, please check out this post to help me catch up on JFW. Let your voice be heard!

Ultimately, Sunwoo was a terrible actor. He tried to antagonize the main antagonizer in the group only for him to one up Sunwoo in a back hug. Sunwoo did his best to look irritated, nay disgusted, and failed. Being wrapped up in Jaehyun’s arms was somewhere Sunwoo could be more than comfortable with. And Jaehyun wasn’t letting go. Their sweaty arms touching was enough to get Sunwoo’s little head interested.

Not now, he thought. Not while I’m working.

After they finished, Sunwoo decided to take advantage of the luxurious pool at the hotel. It would likely be deserted at this hour and it might help him get his mind off Jaehyun. Except for the fact Jaehyun was already in the pool when Sunwoo walked in.

”Seriously?” He grumbled to himself. He was about to turn and leave when Jaehyun spotted him.

”Decided you needed to cool off?” Jaehyun teased, his eyes not so subtly roaming up Sunwoo’s body.

”Maybe,” Sunwoo replied.

”Or?” Jaehyun prompted.

”None of your business,” Sunwoo put his towel on one of the loungers and crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating. Jaehyun laughed.

”Or you weren’t expecting to see me here and you were hoping to jack off in the pool in private,” Jaehyun said. Of course he knew Sunwoo’s plan. “Why don’t you let me jack you off instead?”

”What?” Sunwoo didn’t believe what he’d just heard.

”You’re obviously into me. That much was apparent at the concert. So why don’t you let me get you off?” Jaehyun swam over to the side of the pool and rested his chin on his arms. “Or I could suck you off, if you prefer.”

All the blood in Sunwoo’s body immediately went to his dick.

”You’d suck me off? Here?” He asked.

”Why not? No one’s going to bother us here unless I misjudged and you’re shy,” Jaehyun smirked.

”I’m not shy,” Sunwoo insisted. He fumbled for an excuse. “I might be too big.”

”You forget I hooked up with Juyeon for the last five years and I could swallow him whole,” Jaehyun wiggled his eyebrows. Sunwoo swallowed hard. That much he knew was true. If Jaehyun could take Juyeon, he could definitely take Sunwoo.

”Okay,” Sunwoo breathed.

”Okay what?” Jaehyun asked.

”You can suck me off here,” Sunwoo replied.

”Don’t make it sound like such a burden,” Jaehyun said. “Unless you really don’t want me to.”

”No, I want you to,” Sunwoo nodded.

”Then have a seat,” Jaehyun grinned, almost predatory. Sunwoo pulled down his swim trunks and sat, cock standing off his body and dripping. “You were desperate.”

”It’s not my fault you’re hot,” Sunwoo mumbled.

”What was that?” Jaehyun asked as he lightly gripped Sunwoo’s dick.

”You heard me,” Sunwoo replied. Jaehyun grinned as he put his elbows on the edge of the pool and used the buoyancy of the water to hold him up. He took a few tentative licks before swallowing almost all of Sunwoo’s cock. Sunwoo bit his hand to keep quiet since the pool area was extra loud. Jaehyun grinned up at him as he licked and sucked watching Sunwoo struggle to keep quiet.

”Why so quiet? It’s just us,” Jaehyun popped off, giving teasing licks up the shaft.

”Because it’s still public,” Sunwoo insisted.

”Suit yourself, but I’d rather hear what you sound like when I’m sucking your cock,” Jaehyun shrugged a little, then put his mouth back on Sunwoo’s shaking length. Sunwoo considered what Jaehyun said and lowered his fist. He settled on whines and grunts as Jaehyun worked him with his tongue. He stroked the insides of Sunwoo’s thighs with his thumbs. He bucked his hips up when Jaehyun hit a particularly sensitive spot. Which prompted Jaehyun to focus all his attention on that spot, catapulting Sunwoo toward his orgasm.

”Fuck, Jae, I’m gonna, shit, close,” he panted as he felt the heat rise in his hips. Jaehyun hummed to acknowledge him, which only pushed Sunwoo closer to completion. Jaehyun wrapped his lips around his teeth and lightly bit down, sending Sunwoo over the edge. He exploded into Jaehyun’s mouth and the other man drank it all down. When he finished, Sunwoo flopped back onto the pool deck. Jaehyun pulled himself out and looked down at him.

”Did I kill you?” He teased.

”Maybe,” Sunwoo replied, looking over at him. And the prominent tent in Jaehyun’s swim trunks. “Do you?”

”If you really want to do something about it, I’m pretty sure my roommate this trip is out for the night,” Jaehyun replied. His roommate was Kevin.

”Fuck it, sure, why not?” Sunwoo said as he pulled his swim trunks back up and Jaehyun helped him up. “Can I kiss you?”

”You don’t mind that I just swallowed your come?” Jaehyun asked.

”Not right now, maybe later,” Sunwoo laughed a little. He kissed Jaehyun, enjoying the feeling of Jaehyun’s wet skin against his.

“Upstairs?” Jaehyun asked against his lips.

”Upstairs,” Sunwoo agreed.

#the boyz fanfic #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #hyunjae x sunwoo #the boyz milsun #ksmutsociety #just fucking write 2k25 #minors dni

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tilthedayidice · 1 year ago

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Tilly's Titillating Treasures! : A Baldur's Gate 3 Mod list!

Today's Mod list is various Item and Loot mods that add more variety to your inventory! Some of these will be stright up useless items, some sell for a good amount of gold!, and some will also be usable and/or equitable!

While I have your attention, here's a cool site to help Palestine, all you gotta do is click it daily.

All of the mods will add items to be found around Faerun, or for those who want instant access some can be found in the Tutorial Chest Summoning. This Mod allows you to summon the Cartilaginous chest found in the tutorial level, and mods that support this will be available in said chest during the tutorial, or can be summoned later in game.

Items

JWL One Man's Trash - Inconsequential Loot

Adds 45 Rare Useless items to be found scattered around Faerun. Each item sells for over for over 100 gold, value varies. There s no Tutorial Chest add-on, but it comes with an optional file to add JWL Sceleritas Fel's Coffers of Forlorn Treasures (Lootboxes) to the Loot table.

JWL Deck of Many Things

Adds 3 version of the Deck of Many things to the in game Loot Table. The 3 versions are Tarnished, Incomplete, and Deck of Many Things. You can draw a card once per Long Rest, and there are a total of 22 possible affects. You can find them in 3 separate locations in each act.. There is a Tutorial Chest add-on.

Gear and Equipment

Ancient Weaponry (104 random loot items)

Adds 104 Lootable Weapons to be found all around Faerun! Currently, the mod features: 25(10/9/4/2) daggers, 8(2/2/2/2) flails, 8(3/2/2/1) sickles, 21(11/6/3/1) shortbows, 30(15/10/4/1) shields, 12(6/3/2/1) handaxes.This mod pairs with Randomized Loot mod, unless you want the Tutorial Chest verion. (I would like it to be known I copied the weapon rarieties over thinking that color coding would copy too LIKE A FOOL!!!!!!!!!!! But i loved it enough i went through and did it anyways)

Ancient Armoury (50 random loot items)

Adds 30 Clothing and 20 Light pieces of equipable gear to find around in the Early Game. There is a Roleplaying and Cheat version of each. Comes with a Tutorial Chest add-on

Ancient Jewelry (110 random loot items)

Adds 110 pieces of jewelry to the in game Loot Table! From the mod page "from ancient wizards, necromancers, cults and kingdoms, meticulously crafted and with a history of their own." Each item is Equipable and comes with its own affects! Mod comes with two versions Roleplay and Cheat, Cheat is available in the Tutorial Chest!

Master's Cloaks (100 random loot items)

Adds 100 Equipable Cloaks to the in game Loot Table. Each Cloak has its own themes and affacts! Comes in bothe Roleplay and Cheat version. Cheat is available in the Tutorial Chest add-on.

JWL Discordant Instruments - New Equipment Slot

Replaces the Instrument Equipment Slot with the new Trinket Slot! Adds in over 100 new Trinkets, each with their own Abilities, Spells, and Affects! Comes with optional Tutorial Chest add-on.

Looting Systems

JWL Drop All The Loot

A personal favorite of mine, this mod makes all vendors who are killed.... well drop all their loot! Comes with an optional file to make them drop even more.

JWL Art Dealer

Makes art worth something!!!! Another one of my favorites! I hated picking up an immaculate painting ad finding out it was only worth 30 Gold. What the fuck man? Their weight is also increased and I think that's fair considering I sold 4 for like 2k Gold the other day.

JWL Sceleritas Fel's Coffers of Forlorn Treasures (Lootboxes)

Adds Lootbozes to be found around Faerun that contain random Loot. It may drop Weapons, Armor, Clothes, or Items. Some NPCs can drop these boxes as well. To claim your loot you break the seal! This mod does require at least one Plugin that supplies loot. Comes with optional file to not have Loot automatically equip. No Tutorial Chest add-on.

Randomized Equipment Loot v3

Makes the Loot you find around Faerun randomized. No one thing will ever be in the same place again! This is configurable with other loot mods as well!

No Empty Chests - More Loot

I really like the description for this one so here ya go "Changes all empty chests to have loot, ranging from trash to treasure" No Tutorial Chest add-on

Sorting

Bags Bags Bags

Adds 23 i containers that will automatically sort out your inventory for you. I will warn that it takes your Potions and Scrolls off your hot bar. They're still plenty usable in your inventory, but I would recommend keeping important scrolls and Healing Potions outside of it. Comes in the Tutorial Chest.

Preemptively Label Containers

Tells you if they're empty or not before you open them! Also tells you the number of items in your container, this mod gets a little confused when used with No Empty Chests.

Bags of Holding - Increase weight limit x2 x3 x4

Adds 3 Bags equipped in the Instrument Slot. Comes in 2x/3x/4x carry weight options. Does not seem to come with a Tutorial Chest add-on.

Simple Sorting Bags

Comes with 16 bags that will automatically sort out your equipment. You can find these in either the Tutorial Chest or with Thief Vendors.

Stackable Items

Makes all items able to stack. This can get a little annoying with matching armor sets or weapons that you're trying to equip onto other characters. Base loot stack size is increased from 20 to 100. Comes with a default highlighting option if you don;t like holding down Alt.

As always this post will be updated if I the mods update or I find anything new or interesting!

Sorry these mostly ended up being the same two guys... I didn't realize i had so many of their mods til i made this.....

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics !!

#mods #mod list #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #looting #loot mods #loot variety #long post #there's a link

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verishere · 8 months ago

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Liam meets his dragon

This likely won't be understandable unless you have read this post and this post. Almost all italics you see are telepathic messages, and otherwise are emphasis.

Masterpost

She had always known the two leggeds were strange, it was why she was in this forest. Every two legged she met was strange. They were weird in some way, annoying or loud or silly or prideful. She didn't like them, except for the Makers, but they already had dragons. The rest were all strange, so while she would meet them if they found her, she wouldn't look for them. She was fine alone.

She stayed in this forest in the north, hiding away from anyone who wasn't explicitly looking for her, hunting the large animals the two leggeds had given names but that she had no need for, with mostly the occasional Maker for company. She thought today would be like that, when she sensed the Makers coming. She didn't like one of the Makers. His soul feels Wrong. His soul feels different from his voice. But she would endure him, to be with the other Makers. He wasn't that bad, just kind of weird.

But this new two legged that the Makers had brought to her was Wrong. His face was not his face. His voice was not his voice. His body was hidden behind a fake body. She had never seen any two legged do that before, and she didn't like it. All her instincts were screaming that it was a Bad Thing.

He was trying to speak to her, now. "Hi" he said shakily, reaching out his hand close to her face. She recoiled her whole body from him. That hand was Wrong. It was too small. His hand is bigger than that but this fake hand is smaller. It will not touch her.

This is Wrong.

Nothing about this was right. He is not who he is. He is wrong. The closer he'd gotten the more she saw it. He was not from Here. He was not from Now. He is Wrong. He looks Wrong. He sounds Wrong. His soul is Wrong. He is Wrong. She can't be with him. She can't be here. She wants to leave. She has to leave. She spread her wings and took to the skies. She flew away from the forest she hadn't left in years. She flew to the first mountain she saw. It was high up. Maybe it would be safe. He can't get that high without her seeing him first. She can be up here in the cold instead. She had her fire, after all. She didn't need the forest she loved.

She would be fine.

She saw one of the Makers flying to her. It was the Aelur one, she could tell. Only the Aelur one was fast enough to be here already. The Aelur one was her favorite. The Aelur one's soul felt similar to the way her own did, even though she was a Bromick dragon. The Aelur One's own dragon was also really nice and looked really good. She knew the Aelur one's name, of course. She knew all the names of all the two leggeds she'd met. Except the new one. She shuddered again. He was so Wrong he should not be, he could not be, he must-

What happened?

That thought carried with it so much confusion and worry. It was from the Aelur one. The Aelur one was now on the mountain with her, hugging her neck. She hadn't noticed.

She sent back what she could. She couldn't bring herself to create a full thought in the way a two legged would understand. She sent back her emotions. Her fear, her anxiety, her worry, her confusion, and overwhelmingly she sent the feeling of Wrong. Everything felt Wrong now and she sent it. The world didn't feel right anymore with the Wrong One in it.

The Maker seemed to know she wasn't going to fully think right now, so the Maker didn't fully think at her. This Maker sent her own confusion and worry, her surprise and empathy. This Maker didn't know why she had run away but knew she was scared and was here with her. The Maker kept hugging her neck.

...Freya kept hugging her neck.

She breathed. She breathed and felt Freya around her neck. Freya was small like all the two leggeds are, so she climbed up on top of her neck to hug it with her full body. It didn't hurt. She was gentle. She was nice. She was Right.

She kept breathing. It felt like all she could do was just stand there and breath. She was still looking out over the horizon, over at her forest, to make sure the Wrong One did not follow. She didn't think he would. The Makers would not let him. Surely they knew he was Wrong too? She had to ask. She had to fully think.

When sharing thoughts with other dragons, it's very easy. She just sent what she was thinking. The two leggeds thought differently though. She had to make the thought a little different before she sent it, and the two leggeds had to do the same for her. She couldn't send full thoughts earlier because she wasn't able to think enough to make the thought the way Freya could think it. She was better now. She wasn't alright, but she was better. That one was Wrong. You know he was Wrong?

Freya responded with a full thought again. With it came relief, likely because she could think in full thoughts again. I don't know anything wrong with him. He's nice to us.

That was entirely the wrong answer. Freya didn't seem to know what she meant. She didn't mean he's wrong. He is Wrong. He should not, could not, be. It is not that something bad happened to him or he did something bad, but that what he is should not be. She tried to send this over in the way she had to change her thoughts, but harder ideas like this were hard to send over that way. With another dragon it would be easy, but with a two legged it was hard. No. Not wrong, Wrong. The way he is is not the way he should be. That he is is Wrong. With this she sent her full revulsion at him. Not him as a person, but the idea of him. She didn't know him as a person, she only knew that he was when he should not.

Freya's arms and legs tightened around her neck for a second, but she grunted and Freya remembered herself. Freya sent her reply, with a hint of apology but still mostly filled with confusion. Sorry. Do you mean because he's not from now?

This was closer, at least. Freya still didn't get it all, but got some of it. She shook her head gently, mirroring the two legged gesture but being sure Freya did not fall off her neck. There is more to the Wrong but that is part of the Wrong. He looks Wrong. He sounds Wrong. His soul feels Wrong. Like he Pretends he is not what he is. I can't be touched by Pretend, but he tried to touch me with the Pretend. Do you not see the Pretend? Or hear it?

Freya nodded against her neck. Her next thought came with a sense of understanding. We made dragons to feel and see more than we can. You can see and hear and feel what we can't. I don't know what you're talking about, but I can ask him if he does.

Her whole body shuddered at the thought of a Maker being near the Wrongness. She liked the Makers, even the slightly Wrong Maker was nice at times. The Wrong One should not be with them. He should not be with anyone. He should not be.

She sent this full set of emotions to Freya, without words. Freya laughed out loud, like this was a joke. It wasn't a joke. It was bad. But Freya laughed, and sent her reply. He has been nice with us since we met him. He won't hurt me, and couldn't if he tried, and if there is something Wrong with him we can fix it.

She nodded her head, slow both for Freya's sake around her neck and also out of apprehension. Didn't two leggeds nod slowly when they were scared but would say yes? She thought they did. She'd have to ask later if she could. Not right now, though. Right now she had to focus on the Wrong One.

Freya climbed off her neck, spread her wings, but didn't fly off yet. She sent another thought. Are you okay being alone right now?

She nodded slowly again.

Freya looked uncertain, but nodded. She almost flew away this time, even tensing to jump, but she looked back at the last second. If it takes me a long time to come back, do you want me to send someone? Another Maker?

She nodded slowly again. She really hoped slowly nodding meant what she thought it did. She knew it meant something, but she wasn't sure if it's uncertainty or not. If it wasn't uncertainty then she didn't know what she was saying to Freya, which might be a problem.

...Okay, she had to ask. Does nodding slowly mean. She sent with that thought the uncertainty she felt, and hoped Freya would get the point.

Freya laughed again, gave a thumbs up which she knew meant yes, and finally flew away.

She curled up as if to sleep, fully aware she wasn't going to. The memory of that Wrongness would not let her sleep, not until she understood it or spent so long awake her body could do nothing but sleep.

She curled up atop the mountain, alone with her thoughts.

Not long after, she saw Freya flying to her again. She wasn't certain it was Freya this time, with her so far out, but the two legged approaching was moving quicker than most two leggeds did.

Once she was closer it was definitely Freya, as it was clear just how fast she was going. This time, she did notice Freya landing on the mountain. Freya put her wings away, which she still thought it was weird that the two leggeds could do that, and walked over to her. She lowered her face to be eye level with Freya.

It was interesting, looking at a two legged like this. Her head was the size of Freyas entire abdomen. Being at eyesight with Freya almost had her head on the ground, from her perspective. That that is the height that Freya just sees with all the time still astounded her. How did two leggeds get anything done when they can see so little? How did they hunt?

Freya put her hand on the end of her snout, and smiled. I know what the Wrong was.

Her whole body sagged with relief. If a Maker, any of them really but especially her favorite, knew what the Wrong was and was still smiling after, then it could not be terrible. Or if it was terrible, they must have fixed it. Maybe it was terrible and it was fixed, or maybe it wasn't really that terrible, but it felt really, really terrible, like a bone getting stuck between teeth, except a lot worse.

Freya saw her reaction and visibly held back a laugh. Two leggeds can use magic to make a Pretend look and voice. So we can look and sound different than we really are. He isn't from Now, which you felt, because he travelled to Now from the not Now, using the sun. We can do that too, I've done it. But because he's not from the Now, when we end up in when he was from, the not Now, he doesn't want some of us to know that that him from before he travelled is the same as him after he travelled. He doesn't want some people to know that those two are the same person. So he used magic to put on that Pretend, to make him look like a different person. It'd be fine for some of us to know, he thinks, but just in case he decided he doesn't want anyone to know. So we didn't even know he had that Pretend, and we couldn't warn you. But if you use your magic you can see completely through the Pretend, and then he won't be Wrong. Did you understand all that, and do you want me to teach you?

She thinks she understood most of that, except for why he wouldn't want people to know he is the same person in the future. It's strange that Freya couldn't make the thought that a dragon would understand that meant future. She could say not Now, but she could not say future, when talking to a dragon, even though she could say future when talking to a fellow two legged. She can say future, though, while talking to a two legged. Or at least she could say things like later and tomorrow. She wasn't sure if she could say future specifically. She thinks from what Freya said he is a little bit beyond what either of those two words usually mean, but they would have made more sense than not Now. Strange.

Still, even if she didn't understand why Freya said it that way, and didn't understand why he would want to hide behind the Pretend, she saw that Freya was alright with it. It is possibly something that she can't understand. There are a lot of those. Even if she can understand it, she won't right now. She needs to know how to see through the Pretend and make the Wrong go away. She nodded.

Freya stepped back, and put on her own Pretend. This time it wasn't as Wrong, even though she couldn't see through the Pretend, because she knew who was underneath it. It was her favorite two legged. Also, the soul didn't feel Wrong like the Wrong One's did. She wondered why that was. The face was still Wrong, though. Not as Wrong as the Wrong One's, but that is because she knows what the face underneath is, which she didn't for the Wrong Ones. She just knew there was one, which was worse. For Freya, the Pretend face was still a female two legged face, but it was the other kind of two legged. She knew the names of the kinds but didn't care to use them. Freya was usually the little furred kind, now she was the all furred kind. Other than that the differences were small. Her hand was now slightly bigger, her legs slightly shorter, her head slightly bigger, and her eye colors were entirely different. It was still Wrong, but she was able to see exactly where the difference was, so it wasn't as bad.

Freya sent over a thought, but without words. It was a memory of when Freya first used her own magic to look through a Pretend face. She had used it because Aegir had been trying to sneak away with her food, under the guise of another two legged. With that memory she could do it for herself.

She roared at Freya, and she saw through the Pretend. She saw Freya underneath, and only a small ghostly flickering image of the Pretend. She couldn't make that go away, but she didn't need to. It wasn't Wrong anymore. She sees her friend now. That's all she needed.

Freya seemed scared. Right, her roar. She knew it was different for two leggeds, since they didn't have a proper roar, but for a dragon using your roar to use magic was better than just using magic. Now that she'd done it once she thinks she doesn't need to use the roar to get rid of the Pretend, but for the first time she did it she wanted to use her roar.

She didn't realize it would scare Freya. She should have warned her. What did she do now? She didn't know what to do when someone was scared. She'd never been around a two legged who was scared without another two legged there to help. What did Freya do when she was scared then?

Oh, hugs. She took a step forward, lowered her head again, and wrapped her neck around Freya's body. By the end of it she used the perfect amount of her neck's length for her head to end up just below Freya's face. She looked up at her and thought sorry. I forgot to warn you.

Freya laughed and petted her forehead. It's alright. I probably should have expected that, honestly.

She took her head back and unwound herself, because bending the neck that far for too long was painful. She looked to Freya again and asked the question she'd been asking herself over and over again, while she'd been waiting on Freya to come back. Why did you bring him to me to begin with? She made sure the question did not come with an accusatory feeling, just a feeling of confusion and curiosity.

Freya smiled and sent her answer, filled with no small amount of confusion of her own. He said in his not Now it is harder to meet a dragon than it is in our Now, so he had never met any before. We took him to you because we were close and I thought you'd maybe like to meet someone new. I didn't know about the Pretend, or that you would see the Pretend as Wrong. Do you still want to see him, now that you can see through the Pretend?

She slowly nodded.

Freya laughed again, and flew away without a word, presumably to find the Wrong One who was not actually Wrong, apparently. That he was not from Now and not from Here might not be that bad if she could see through all the other Wrong things about him.

Less than two minutes later, she saw two shapes rising from her forest. It was probably Freya and the Wrong One. It took longer for them to fly over than it did for Freya before, likely because she was accommodating for him being slower. Freya could make him faster by making the wind push him, but she guessed he wasn't used to that.

They landed, and she was right, it was them. She saw the Wrong One again and remembered why she flew away. He wasn't as close this time though and she knew why he was Wrong. She didn't know the Truth of him, but she knew why he was Pretending. It helped.

She decided to try the magic without the roar. She wanted to see if she could and also if she was the first dragon the Wrong One had met, her roar would make him very, very scared. She pulled the magic from her soul to the outside of her body without moving. It made a little fire flicker around her scales, because she wasn't used to this new magic. It worked though. His Pretend became a flicker as Freya's had before, which she only just noticed Freya had taken off her pretend entirely while she had been away. The Wrong One's pretend still flickered, though. He was keeping it up so Freya could not see the Truth. She didn't know why, but Freya didn't seem to think it was a problem, so she didn't either.

Without the Pretend he looked much better. All the Wrongess of his face and voice was gone, so looking at the other parts that she had thought were Wrong made it less. Him not being from Here or Now didn't even feel slightly Wrong. The only thing that felt Wrong still was his soul. It felt different from the Truth that she did not know. It was not very different, though. The least favorite Maker's soul felt much more Wrong than this one's soul did. She could endure this to meet him properly.

He blinked up at her, still scared. It was like watching one of the two legged hatchlings meet a dragon for the first time. She hadn't seen a grown two legged act like this, but maybe it wasn't because the hatchlings were small and young, but because it was the first time they'd seen a dragon. She knew she was big, and knew how instincts worked in smaller things. Animals ran from her just because she was big. That seemed to happen to two leggeds as well, until they got used to dragons.

She made herself smaller like she did for the hatchlings, bending her legs and lowering her head to be just above the height of the formerly Wrong One. She didn't go down to his height, because that seemed to make the hatchlings even more scared for some reason. She didn't know what it would do to him, but she was going to act like he was a scared hatchling and hope it worked.

In the corner of her eye, Freya was trying not to laugh. She probably recognized the behavior as her behavior around hatchlings, so if this was her friend it probably looked demeaning. She didn't know why two leggeds laugh when their friends get demeaned, since they only do if it's slight demeaning, and more demeaning they get mad. It didn't make sense, but that was just another reason why the two leggeds were weird.

He glanced at Freya then took a step forward. She could sense there were thoughts going between Freya and the formerly Wrong One, as she tried to guide him on how to greet her when he probably didn't know how to make his thoughts fit in her head. He kept walking, slow, careful steps as if afraid she would react to him being closer. She recognized this was probably due to what happened last time he had tried to come closer to her, so she made sure to stay utterly still except for her breathing. She'd recognized early on that keeping completely still, even stilling her breathing momentarily, made the hatchlings very scared. Probably it looked like she was about to pounce.

He finally reached close to her, glanced at Freya again, and put his hand on the side of her snout. She lowered her face down to his, looking him in the eye. The Pretend still flickered in the air around him, real and yet not, but she ignored it. From this point she could feel his soul better. It feels more like hers does than any other two legged's, even Freya's. She might like this one, then. If only she could get over the slight Wrongness.

He eventually said "I'm the Watcher," finally revealing to her why his soul still felt kind of Wrong. He hides some of his person. That is not his real name, and it's probably not the only thing he hides, based on what she feels from his soul. With most people, including other dragons, she could feel their familial connections and such, but she could not with him. His soul feels wrong because he hides himself, likely for the same reason he put on the Pretend face and voice. The name is a Pretend name, too. She didn't know why, but Freya didn't object, so she wouldn't. Once he learned to talk to her, she would ask him why. But for now she simply accepted it as another thing that made the two leggeds strange.

#oc posts #ver's writing #ver's fantasy #Limlin #Liam

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melien · 8 months ago

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Felicity: I'll start. Never have I ever had a crush on a friend!

An awkward silence ensued, then Nate promptly put his finger down, trying not to attract too much attention to it.

Felicity: Kristen! Put your finger down!

Kristen: Damn you, Fel! Also, your original statement is a big fat lie, unless you don't consider Na-

Felicity, looking directly at Kristen: I will end you. Nate, you're next!

Nate: Uhh... never have I ever... had a family that loves me?

Felicity: Oof, deep. Kristen, do you love me?

Kristen: You just said you'll end me, so no, no way.

Felicity: Noice. I'm winning so far.

Kristen: That's cheating! I didn't raise my younger sister to be a cheater!

Felicity: You didn't raise me in the first place!

Kristen: Felicity, put both of your fingers down right now! Ugh, of course I love you! Just play fair!

#sims #ts3 #sims 3 #Galactic Crusade #kristen fletcher #felicity fletcher #nathaniel sanders #a really underrated trio

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akfelpsrecaps · 9 months ago

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Recap for Vod 13 — O Perry

youtube

another short one! this is a lot of mining the cube + finding new rooms \o/ mostly chatting about irl stuff in between, but there’s some theorising too

recap under the cut, also reblogs are appreciated so more people can find these recaps \o/!!

(quick note that nothing I write here in quotes (unless it is books Felps reads) is verbatim + accurate translation. I will try to be as accurate as possible, but it’s more about quickly conveying vibes)

-vod continues on from the previous one

-more donation + timer pains from Meiaum

-they find a room that just has a recent photo of them digging in it. Felps takes a photo and sends it to the groupchat with him matt and Meiaum

-they find another room—a music studio with a book (6:00 if you want to read the book). they play the disc \o/ it’s some kind of custom disc

-in the room Felps finds a bowler hat that changes colours

-the room has a working piano and drumset—apparently you can connect your keyboard to this? Meiaum said he’ll try and do that sometime

-felps takes the sofa, which is also colour changing

-they talk about meiaum’s subathon while continuing to dig

-Felps found a miner’s hat with a beard (dwarven miner hat it’s called)

-still talking about the subathon

-Meiaum finds a room! This one is a graveyard. there’s four graves that all say a word on them + some ghostly whispering sounds. The words say “eu estava vendo tudo”

-felps takes a photo and sends it to the groupchat with him, matt and Meiaum

-there’s a coffin with spirit orbs in it! Felps only takes three… (you need four to get an upgrade)

-Felps wonders who the person who’s watching them is

-Felps finds a game room!

-felps wonders if this is all the rats or if they’re just one part of the picture

-felps tries to dig specifically to find a room, but goes back to digging normally before too long

-matt raids Meiaum so they talk a little about what they’re doing/what they’ve found, and then keep talking about the subathon

-Meiaum finds a room with perry the platypus \o/ the room is probably supposed to be the secret base

-felps takes a photo and sends it to the groupchat with him matt and Meiaum

-felps wonders if the rooms didn’t originally exist in the block but were instead transported there. He mostly cites the fact that in Perry’s room there’s a door to nowhere but stone

-Meiaum wonders if the rooms belong to them and they just don’t remember—specifically the rooms, not the pictures of them

-from a picture frame in Perry’s room, felps gets a zombie mask. there was also a spyglass in a picture frame next to it which he gives to Meiaum

-Meiaum is still being tormented by people sending him money to make the timer go up by a lot pfft

-AuAu shows up again \o/ he gives them steak!

-they show AuAu some of the rooms around the cube

-felps realises there’s a small square platform above the cube

-when he gets underneath it he hears a noise and starts digging down to find it (looking for an elevator up to the platform)

-they find a room with a giant frog named Pepe (and no elevator)

-they tower up to try and get to the platform. Felps doesn’t have enough blocks

-Meiaum gets up and throws Felps some blocks one by one

-they find a floating book and quill on a pedestal of some kind

-the book says: “alguém já teve acesso a Fábrica. Vocês ainda tem muito a explorar em Valigma. Todo canto guarda um secreto.”

-there is now a working elevator

-Meiaum wonders if they should go to the factory

-Felps thinks Guaxinim is the person who’s entered the factory that the book is referring to, since Guaxinim mentioned he had

-they get back down to see a lot of monsters have spawned oops

-Meiaum is downed and felps goes to revive him (he can’t see Meiaum at first he just hears him calling for help pfft)

-i think AuAu goes around killing most of the monsters. Felps gets a new hat called “poggers”

-AuAu calls the pictures of irl felps and irl Meiaum pretty

-they show AuAu the screen that’s streaming meiaum’s live. Felps tells him they’re being watched, and AuAu is scared (they are too)

-they take AuAu to the gorilla room and he feeds it bananas

-felps hears fire and starts looking for the next room

-they find a bakery \o/

-Meiaum didn’t break his tower up to the platform so Felps breaks it for him

-to explain his pain with the timer in arkanis, Meiaum is saying he has allergies

-AuAu leaves to go sleep

-for a while now Felps has been using his hand to mine the blocks since he has the claw that lets him mine blocks quickly (I think it’s as efficient as stone tools)

-Felps sees invisibility particles and hears a villager. He manages to click on them and realises the baker turned him invisible

-Meiaum suggests joining a group call again, but Felps says he’s going to leave for today

-Meiaum confirms he won’t break anything without Felps. they say goodbye to each other and head to their houses \o/

-as soon as Felps gets down he runs into two creepers (that do explode. luckily he was okay pfft)

-Felps sleeps through the night, then takes stock of his inventory a little

-he looks through meiaum’s chest in the base but doesn’t take anything

-he lies down in bed and logs off \o/

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butevrythinggoesaway · 2 years ago

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Felicia's his crime mom headcanons

He stays at the Black Cat whenever he runs away from home, which is often. After the prison stuff, she eventually runs into him and lets him stay full time

She teaches him new tips and tricks for evading law enforcement

She will refer to him as her son if anyone even thinks of insulting him

When the future spideys come over and explain gender fluid, she helps Benj get some nice dresses for more female feeling days. She tells Benj that she always wanted a daughter, and now she sometimes does

She doesn't understand it at all she's just happy to see Benj smile and twirl around in a skirt.

Seriously Benj is like. Depression extreme

Felicia will literally kiss anyone who can get him to smile

Unless they're a kid, they get chocolate

The fedora is Lippy's. There, I've acknowledged it, happy?

She calls him Honey and Sweetheart whenever she's kind of at her wit's end with him

She doesn't like yelling at him. Lippy yelled once and Benj was just. Frozen. Couldn't speak for the next few weeks. She refuses to see that happen again

He does something vaguely spidery and all she can say is "i love you honey, but sometimes you are beyond me"

The club staff are very familiar with Benj, L. Thompson Lincoln likes having Benj at the bar while he works, he likes talking with him. Having a heavily scarred teenager next to the heavily scarred, albino, tank of a bartender doesn't really help the business, but Black Cat patrons are nothing if not ballsy.

Someone once harassed another patron so Benj and Lincoln dragged him outside and beat the shit out of him.

Half the staff have vigilante/criminal side identities so it's a well known fact that the cocky mess of a kid over there is the Spider, yes the Spider

Fel's cats like sleeping on him, if he's staying over and leaves his door even slightly open they will crowd onto his bed.

Benj meddled in Fixit's business one two many times, so Fixit carried him back to the club by the back of his vest. When Felicia and Lippy answered the door, Fixit said, "is this one of yours?"

He feels responsible for her injury, the run-up to that being different than the comics because guys??? He apologises constantly

Sometimes she helps him as the White Widow.

She's about this close to adopting the other spiders kids (fingers are touching)

She will kick people out if she has to, just to make room for the kids.

#into the spider verse #spider-man noir #spiderverse #spider man noir #spider noir #spiderman noir #spidernoir #marvel noir #spider-noir #atsv #across the spiderverse #felicia hardy #L. Thompson Lincoln #i cannot remember his first name #tombstone #lippy

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sovereignsystem · 1 year ago

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ฅ Hiro ฅ

⋆He/Fel/Nya/Claw⋆ Interdimensional catboy⋆ Ageless⋆ Introject⋆ Iculasexual

Hello, I am Hiro. I enjoy cats, horror games, and Japanese culture. Due to my role as our online protector, I am often fronting when we are online. If I am not fronting, I am keeping an ear out for if I am needed. Close by, so to speak. I have been told I can be intimidating, however rest assured knowing I intend no harm unless you have harmed us first.

That being said, I am always happy to have a conversation, if one is desired of me. Don't be afraid to talk, just be respectful. 🐈

#sovsys.intros #hiro🐈#((hiro🐈))

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rinwellisathing · 9 months ago

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Papa Bhaal's House of Horrors: Part 7

Alfira led Rolan and Zevlor to the alleyway between Last Light FM and Sorcerous Salvage. Zevlor raised a hand to the two, motioning them to stay back as he reached into his belt pouch and produced a pair of rubber gloves, pulling them on and approaching the blood spatter, crouching down carefully to examine it. There wasn't a body per se, but there were bits of insides and an errant finger or two, not to mention the massive pool of blood extending into drag marks and then drippings. There weren't any identifying features, well, unless the tips of the two or three fingers were preserved enough to gather some prints. He withdrew some tweezers and a baggie, collecting them to bring to Z'rell. He resented the idea of working with that woman, but she was all he had to go by around this town. “So?” Rolan leaned in a bit more towards the patrolman, trying to get an idea of what was going on. It was his work place after all and he could already feel the knots forming in his stomach at the thought of ending up involved in all of this. “So far it's like Alfira said, with this much blood, whoever got hurt here isn't likely to have survived.” Zevlor explained. “Then it looks like they were dragged a bit before being lifted up and carried somewhere else. The blood leads in this direction.” He stood and pointed towards the side of town where the old, abandoned diner stood.

“Ugh....just perfect....As if I can afford to be out of work while they investigate this.” Rolan groaned, pressing a hand to his face and shaking his head. “Somebody is dead, Rolan!” Alfira frowned. “Yes, along with my chance to actually get into the university I've been working towards. Not as if you'd understand after you gave up your shot so quickly.” He scoffed, glaring at her, his nose wrinkling in annoyance. Alfira tensed, fingernails digging into her palms as her shoulders shook slightly. “You don't even know why I came back here.” She murmured accusingly.

Rolan had already turned to follow Zevlor in the direction of the blood trail. Alfira simple sighed and hurried after the two down the dark streets, dimly lit by the guttering neon signs of the few places still open and the very faint light of the moon through the dense fog which tended to permeate Reithwin town. ----- Sentry arched his back with a cry of pleasure before pitching forward to sink his teeth into Enver's shoulder deeply enough to draw blood, his tongue lapping eagerly at the red that issued forth. His legs were fully raised over the human's hips and his tail was lashing back and forth eagerly as he felt those hips tense and spasm as Enver's load filled him, warming his insides. The tiefling's eyes fluttered as his juices dripped down onto the desk beneath them as the two rested in the after glow. The post-sex ecstasy didn't last long, however, as Sentry's head rolled back and his eyes fluttered open, coming face to face with the rather perturbed red eyes of Sceleritas Fel standing just at the edge of the desk and giving him a somewhat disappointed frown.

“Young master, your older brother has sent me to retrieve you.” He coughed into his hand, looking away from the scene, but not before casting a withering look at Enver. Sentry shifted and stretched slightly, arms lazily slid around Enver's shoulders. “Oh shit, have I been gone that long?” “They simply couldn't perform their ritual without him? Or it couldn't wait?” Enver smirked, slowly sitting up, arms slipping around Sentry's waist to bring the tiefling with him. He gazed down at Fel, waiting for a response. “You know very well they cannot, Banite.” Fel's voice wavered slightly in its usual professionalism. He looked to Sentry and inclined his head. “Lady Orin refuses to listen to Gary or Jackal, she claims she will only attend the ritual with you.” Sentry's expression softened and he gently began to extricate himself. “Oh, yeah...I did promise her.” Enver rolled his eyes and sighed as Sentry nuzzled at his neck and gingerly wriggled out of their embrace. “I'll have more time to...ah...hang out tomorrow, Envy.” He promised as he scooted off the desk and began to reclaim his clothing from the floor. “Well, if it really can't be helped.” The human stood as well, pulling his pants up and buttoning them, slowly approaching Sentry and placing his hands on his shoulders, kissing the young man's neck. “But I'll hold you to that, you know...” His hands slid down Sentry's body to the tiefling's hips, resting there a moment before letting go and watching him walk off, tail swishing behind him as his ass swayed a little too provocatively not to be intentional.

Fel glared once more at Enver before joining Sentry. “I did also take the liberty of collecting some parts from your earlier kill while I was tidying up a bit.” He informed him. “Oh, perfect! Orin and I could use some more parts for our sculptures and I think she'll really like the hair on that one. Truthfully it was the only good part, I think.” Sentry smirked as he made his way out of the dimly lit trailer and towards the woods.

----- The dumbwaiter deposited Jaina in what appeared to be a small, somewhat sterile office. The room was lit by fluorescent light but the lack of windows gave it a gloomy and oppressive appearance. Certificates and diplomas lined the walls from universities from Neverwinter to Thay, each one in complex sounding sciences and schools of magic. On the desk were several photographs, a glamour shot of the beautiful dark skinned woman, her face not yet lined with those obsidian scales yet in the image as she posed expertly in a fashionable green dress. Another still of her standing on a stage receiving one of her many diplomas, looking no less like a model even in the somewhat generic red cap and gown. Another image of her smiling with a cocktail in her hand in a white swimsuit on the beach with the beautiful elf, the white dragonborn, the young male tiefling, and the pale little girl. The desk was neatly organized with files and a few clunky machines sat on the desk as well, which Jaina wasn't too familiar with.

She approached the door slowly and pressed her ear to it, listening carefully to ensure she couldn't hear anyone outside. When she felt certain no one was down here looking for her, she carefully pushed the door open and exited into a large laboratory, the tile floors were set with drains at even intervals, each one disturbingly tinted red, several gurneys and operating tables were evenly spaced throughout the room, a few with sheets covering the still forms of bodies of varying sizes. One was still uncovered, a blonde githyanki woman probably not much older than Jaina. Her eyes gazed sightlessly up at the ceiling and the skin of her face on one side had been peeled back, revealing red dragonic scales, soft and newly formed blossoming beneath. Though her eyes were cloudy, one seemed to have once been a brilliant blue while the other had slowly been turning vivid yellow. Her arms were bandaged with gauze taped in several places as one would do to cover injection sites. Jaina covered her mouth in horror. Metallic clanging and rattling jolted her out of her terrified state only briefly and she backed away, gazing around nervously, afraid the sound would draw someone to this place. She could see cages lining the walls and in them, various figures moving sluggishly, those who could approached the bars and reached out with groans of agony. Tieflings, humans, gnomes, all manner of people, and each one bursting with strange tumors or sprouting odd, sickly scales. As Jaina backed away further, she bit back a scream, her head quickly turning as she heard footsteps coming towards the only door out of this nightmare. There was no time and she did the only thing she could, crawling up onto the gurney and pulling the crisp white sheet over her body as the door slowly creaked open.

------

Wyll realized all too quickly he didn't have time to wait for Jaina to send the dumbwaiter back up. The voices outside the door were not leaving any time soon and were getting closer. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the ropes of the pulley system and began to shimmy down until he found an open hatch. Peering cautiously out of the darkness, he saw that he was back in the kitchen. No one currently occupied the room and the lights were off, so very quietly, he crawled out of the hatch and into the room. It had been spotlessly cleaned since dinner, not a trace of the meal or of the table settings remained, leaving it almost eerily spotless.

The door wasn't far, just across the room, he could make it out and catch up with Jaina, or at least get help if not. But then, what if she didn't make it? What if something happened to her while he ran for help? No, he had to find her before he left the house. Leaving her behind was not an option. He carefully made his way towards the other end of the kitchen where the dim light of the TV still glowed from the living room and he could hear the dull murmur of whatever movie had been playing on the screen. As he crouched down out of the light, he noticed the little girl was no longer sitting in front of the TV and the tall, imposing female tiefling was still staring blankly ahead at the screen, quiet and cold. He held his breath as he passed behind her, deciding to see if Jaina had ended up in the basement. The stairs that led there were just down the hall from the look of things and his pathway there was unimpeded, at least for the moment. The stairs were old and Wyll's eyes widened as each step caused them to creak and groan. There was no helping it now, he had to hold out hope that if anyone heard, they would assume it was simple a member of their family walking about in the house. As he neared the bottom, he paused in his tracks as he saw the two beautiful women, the elf and the human, opening the doorway on the right side of the hall, the side where the dumbwaiter would have let out. He cursed under his breath hoping Jaina had already gotten past them, but he had to be sure. When the two had passed the threshold and the door closed, Wyll entered the small corridor and looked the way the two had gone, then turned his head to the left, gazing at the older, more imposing door. Something evil radiated from it. Something red and rotten and hungry, but he pressed on. He had to find Jaina, so drawing up all his courage, he slowly pressed against the old door. It was strangely warm to the touch, almost alive, but it did not budge.

He paused to examine it, fingers dancing over the markings and writings, trying to decipher the ancient language, but it was hardly one of the ones they teach you in The Gate. He frowned and turned his attention back to the metal door on the right. Inhaling deeply, he crossed the hall to the door. ----- “Here, give me the bag of parts, I kind of owe Orin an apology for earlier.” Sentry held out a hand to claim the bag from Fel, who graciously, almost reverently handed it to him as they approached the shed. The door was just slightly ajar and the light was on inside, Sentry approached slowly and gave a light, gentle knock at the door. “Oh Orin? Baby sister? I've got something for you.” “Oh, my wayward slaughter-kin finally returns from his filthrut with Gorebag.” Orin scoffed, not looking away from their earlier art project, which she was finger painting with thick lines of Sentry's special paint mixture. Sentry gave an exaggerated frown, holding the bag behind his back as he approached, shoulders drooping dramatically, the picture of pitiful and pleading. “Awwww, come on, baby sister....Don't put it like that, I know I messed up.” He shuffled his feet sheepishly as he approached. “Look, be mad at me all you want, but it'd be a shame for this to go to waste, yeah?” He waited for her to turn and spare him a glance, her large pale eyes looking him up and down, widening with excitement as the still dripping bag came into view. She scurried over to him and claimed it from his hands, setting it down on the ground and opening it up, reaching inside and withdrawing a pallid, slack-jawed head, its eyes milky and empty, long ginger hair still immaculate and pristine, how Sentry had avoided cutting half of it off when he was so fond of using an axe was a mystery, Orin couldn't pretend she wasn't impressed with her big brother's precision. She tried to manage a sour look, but a smile illuminated her face, twisting up fully into a wicked smirk. “I have ideas for him!”

“I thought you might.” Sentry held out his arms and Orin, despite herself, hugged her brother tightly. “But after the sacrifice or we'll both be in trouble, okay?” He gently lifted her up in his arms. She wrinkled her nose and blew out her lips. “Fine. But this time, I want a killing blow, Slaughter-kin, make them let me do it! You're one of the chosen after all. I want to feel the lifeblood drain.” Sentry nodded. “Why not? After all, I've already had kill tonight, fair is fair, I suppose.” He nodded to Fel to put the new parts in the freezer chest while he shifted Orin onto his shoulders, ducking gingerly as he left the shed, and carrying her towards the house as she told him her plans for the parts he had brought, which guest she wanted to kill most and what parts she'd choose from them for their next piece. He listened with a smile.

----- Zevlor had insisted Rolan and Alfira stay back when they had arrived at the location the body had been moved to, an old, reeking trash pile behind the long-abandoned diner. Years worth of wildlife and scavengers had met their end here by now along with the general litter people threw with little to no concern that the place hadn't been inhabited, and therefore cleaned, in years. Actually, to call it a body seemed a bit generous, what it really was was more to the point a hollowed out torso with half of a leg and a quarter of an arm still attached to it. The tiefling was hardly new to crime scenes, but this one caused bile to rise in his throat and he turned his head, partially to ensure the two younger ones were far enough back to avoid seeing the carnage, but also to take a quick breath.

Rolan paled slightly, a look of discomfort crossing his face as he could see at least a little of the scene from where he stood. The remnants of the shirt definitely belonged to Lorroakan. He couldn't say he felt sorry for his boss or even that he wasn't relieved he was gone. The man had been a nightmare to work for in so many ways, after all, but the sight of a body so heavily mutilated along with the knowledge that there was no way work would be open for quite some time caused anxiety to rise inside him, turning his stomach. Alfira gazed sightlessly foreward, her expression utterly passive. The sound of her heartbeat hammering in her chest and her blood pumping through her veins assaulted her ears, sending the world into a dull roar. She was back there again, wrapped in one of those trauma blankets speaking in a monotone as she told a police officer whose face she didn't remember everything she remembered about the last time she saw Lihala alive. Gods, there was so much blood. She was only vaguely aware that she was shaking.

“I'll have to get ahold of Sheriff Z'rell...” Zevlor frowned. “This isn't my jurisdiction and if I make one wrong move any chance of bringing this killer to justice is gone.” He inhaled sharply as he stood up. “I know it's a lot to ask after what you've both already seen, but would you accompany me to the station as witnesses?”

“Witnesses to what? All we've seen at this point is a mangled corpse! We don't know what happened, for all we know it was a bear or something!” Rolan snapped, gesturing towards the woods which surrounded the town. “I need to go home and figure out what I'm going to do now that my job situation is well and truly fucked.” “A bear couldn't make cuts that precisely.” Alfira spoke up hollowly. “It wasn't a bear and you know it, Rolan. A person did this and whoever it was could still be out there.” She frowned at him, slowly shaking off the dissociative state. “Hells, for all you know Cal or Lia could be in danger if we don't do something, could you live with that?” Rolan opened his mouth to reply and then simply shook his head, fuming. “You're right. Damn it all, you're right....But will the sheriff even believe us?” “Well, it would certainly explain all the missing tourists and abandoned vehicles around the area...” Alfira suggested, looking to Zevlor. “That it would.” He nodded. “Now stay close, Alfira isn't wrong, the killer could still be around.”

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