#felt a bit shoe horned in there for no reason

[junezsq]

ew! bugs

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: he would come over and kill that bug if you called but he’d complain about it first

established relationship

warnings: a few swear words, mention of a spider, a state of panic

word count: 2.2k

a/n: a friend of mine convinced me to post this on here so welp here we go with my first ever tumblr fic. i hope you enjoy! <3

── ᵎᵎ ✦

a sigh left your lips as you pushed the heavy front door closed behind you. after spending the entire afternoon and evening at the wheeler’s helping nancy with an important assignment, coming home to an empty house felt … depressing. you slipped out of your uncomfortable shoes and as you took off your favorite jean jacket your gaze fell upon the yellow sweatshirt you were wearing.

a small smile formed on your lips as you placed the jacket on one of the hooks. while slipping your hands into the sleeves, creating sweater paws, you made your way through the hall and into the kitchen. you hadn’t spoken to steve all day because you’d been preoccupied and now realized you’d missed him. a lot.

when entering the small kitchen your eyes fell on what you were looking for. reluctantly you retracted your hand from the comfort of the sweatshirt’s sleeve and reached out towards the phone. numbers were never really your thing, but you had memorized his by heart. you placed the horn against your ear and leaned your back against the wall next to it, the furthest the string allowed, and waited for him to pick up.

it was as if steve knew you were going to call, because the phone hadn’t even gone over twice when you heard his signature, “steve harrington.”

you smiled softly to yourself, “hey, it’s me.” a soft rustle sounded on the other side of the line before he spoke up again, “hey, what’s up, sweets?”

you instantly relaxed at the sound of his voice, “generally speaking, the sky, but it kind of depends on where you’re standing.” you smiled lightly to yourself, “in my case it’s the kitchen ceiling.”

“oh, you think you’re funny, don’t ya.” he spoke and you chuckled softly at his words. for some reason you knew a smirk was playing on his lips at this exact moment. “i meant, why are you calling at … 11pm? did you just get home?”

you hummed at the latter question, taking the phone string in your free hand, “and no particular reason, just wanted to talk to you.” you spoke quietly, twirling the string around your pointer finger.

“aww, you missed me.” even though he couldn’t see you, you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, “shut up.” you looked down at your hand, remembering what you were wearing, as you continued playing with the string around your finger, “i still got you sweatshirt, by the way, the yellow one.”

“see, i knew it was missing.” you could hear him snap his fingers in remembrance; a habit of his. “don’t worry about it.”

you leaned your head back, your eyes falling on the ceiling. “you don’t want it back?” you voiced, your gaze sweeping over the cracks in the ceiling that had multiplied over the years. apparently your parents didn’t see the need in fixing them, or they didn’t mind because they were never home anyway. steve’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts, “nah, it looks way better on you.”

a small and playful scoff left your lips, “that’s such a cliché thing to say.” you let go of the string to snuggle your hand back into a sweater paw and wrapped your arm around your waist, “are you sure though? i thought it was your favorite. i can wash it for you.”

“i’m sure, sweets.” he spoke softly, “keep it.”

“alright.” you smiled to yourself, your eyes wandering to the clock hanging on the wall opposite you, only just fully registering what time it was, “i’m going to bed now, but i just wanted to hear your voice for a minute.”

the line was silent, as if steve was thinking of what to say, but after a moment he spoke up anyway, a bit quieter than before, “are you okay?” he sounded worried.

“yeah.” a small sigh left your lips, “just tired.” you managed to say before a yawn creeped out.

you could hear a soft chuckle from the other side of the line, “i won’t keep you up any longer, goodnight sweets.” at his words you bit the inside of your cheek. for some reason, even though you’d been together for almost two years now, you couldn’t help but smile when he called you that. sweets.

“goodnight, steve.” you spoke in almost a whisper, waiting a small moment before pulling the horn away from your ear and putting it back up against the wall.

while pushing yourself off the wall you placed your hair behind your ears, another yawn escaped your lips as you turned to walk towards the hall. you couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and snuggle up comfortably in bed. however, just when you took a step you saw something shift in the corner of your eye.

you stopped immediately, slowly turning your head to look at whatever it was that had caught your attention. your eyes widened when you saw a spider slowly creeping around in front of the door towards the hall. “no…” you whispered, immediately taking the same step back, “no, no, no, no.”

without moving, scared the spider was going to do something unpredictable, you glanced at the fruit bowl standing on the kitchen island. while holding your breath, you slowly reached for whatever was in there. “come on.” you mumbled to yourself, and when you’d gotten hold of an orange you let out a teeny tiny breath. you swallowed, staying focused on the spider before throwing the orange, in hopes it was gonna hit it.

the orange didn’t hit the spider though. it hit the floor about a feet next to it, causing the spider to crawl closer towards you. your scream filled the kitchen and you rushed to climb onto the counter.

you didn’t dare to let your eyes waver from the spider as you tried to reach the phone from where you were sat on the counter. when finally getting hold of it, you glanced at it, dialing the number as quick as you could and snatched the horn from the wall. “pick up, please.” you spoke to yourself as you anxiously waited.

“steve harrington.” as soon as you heard his voice you let out a small breath of relief. “steve, it’s me, again.” you swallowed, your eyes already hurting from trying not to blink; not, under any circumstances, wanting to lose sight of the spider.

“y/n?” steve sounded confused, “did you miss me that much?” he chuckled softly and you swore you could almost hear the smirk that was playing on his lips as he spoke, “what’s up? and if you say ‘the sky’ again—“

“steve.” you cut him off, “there’s a spider here and i don’t know what to do.” you swallowed, your grip tightening on the horn as you noticed the spider moving.

“i will— wait, what?”

you moved slightly back on the kitchen counter, “there’s a spider here, steve, could you, maybe, come over and, you know, save me, please?”

you could hear him laugh through the phone, so you slightly raised your voice, “it’s not funny!” he let out another laugh, “y/n, do you really want me to come over, just to kill a spider?”

“you don’t have to kill it, but you could, i don’t know, take it outside.” you frowned, your eyes still focused on the spider, which had now settled in a corner against the wall. you heard him sigh, “it’s almost midnight.”

“so?!” you exclaimed, “what if it gets me, kills me and you didn’t do anything to try and save me?? then what?!” steve let out another chuckle at your words, “can’t you just walk past it?”

you slightly leaned forward to get a closer look at the spider, but as soon as you saw it crawling closer to you, you moved further back onto the counter, “steve, i swear to god, it’s coming closer, i think it’s out to get me. can you please come over?”

you heard him sigh once more, “fine, i’ll be there in fifteen.” you let out a breath in relief, but before you could thank steve, he’d hung up the phone. “guess it’s just you and me.” you mumbled quietly at the spider.

after what felt like an eternity you heard keys rattle, the front door opening and closing and footsteps in the hallway. “y/n?” you heard steve call out.

“in the kitchen!” you exclaimed. while waiting for steve, you hadn’t taken your eyes off the spider once, it was still in the exact same spot next to the kitchen island. you still didn’t waver when you heard the door to the kitchen open.

steve looked around the kitchen to find you folded up on the kitchen counter next to the sink. he tried to contain his laughter as he closed the door behind him, “alright scaredy cat, where’s this spider you’re talking about.”

you breathed out, still keeping your eyes on the spider as you pointed at it. “right there.” steve looked to where you were pointing, “why’s there an orange..?”

you glanced at him, “i tried to kill it.” steve tore his eyes away from the orange to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips, “what? with an orange?”

“i panicked!!” you exclaimed, glancing between the spider and steve, “i- i didn’t know what to do and this was the first thing that came to mind!”

another laugh escaped his lips, “you’re being serious?”

“yes, i’m being serious! why are you laughing?”

“it’s an orange?!”

“don’t be a hater?? at least i tried!”

“alright, alright.” steve held up his hands as he gave in “okay, let’s get the little guy.” he breathed out, running a hand through his hair before grabbing the empty glass from the counter and slowly walking over towards the spider.

“be careful!” you whisper shouted at him, but he waved you off. “it’s just a spider, i got this— woah!” he exclaimed, taking a couple steps back again. “it’s actually really big, i didn’t think it was gonna be this big.”

you raise your brows at him, “just, i don’t know, stamp on it, or something.”

steve shook his head, “i’m not gonna kill—“ but before he finished his sentence he jumped backwards, “jesus fucking christ, it’s crawling towards me.”

“i thought you weren’t afraid of spiders?” you sat up straighter, trying to find the spider steve was now almost running away from. “i’m not afraid of spiders.”

“well, it kinda looks like you are!” you swallowed, anxiously looking around and eventually finding it indeed crawling towards where steve was standing, “just place the glass over it!”

“i’m trying!”

“steve! it’s getting closer, be quick!” you shouted at each other as you watched steve move closer to the spider, but each time he did, he’d chicken out and step back. “y/n, i told you, i’m trying! shit, it’s coming closer!”

“steve!! the glass!”

“i know! i—“

steve’s sentence got cut off as you heard a crunch. you closed your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes. the silence grew as steve slowly turned to look at you and whispered, “i think i killed it.” you changed your position on the counter, your legs now dangling off. “you think you killed it?”

steve swallowed, nodding as he glanced down. he was stood with his legs wide, one foot in front of the other, “yeah, i mean, i think i stepped on it.”

you carefully hopped off the counter, slowly walking over towards steve. you glanced from his face to his feet, “hey, at least you’re still wearing your shoes.” you joked, wanting to lighten the mood.

“yeah…” he mumbled, carefully lifting his foot, finding the spider, now squashed, on the floor. you closed your eyes in disgust, “okay, gross, i’m not looking at that.”

steve chuckled softly, “i’ll clean it up.” he placed both his hands on your arms to carefully move you to the side. “thank you.” you spoke quietly. while you waited with your eyes closed, steve grabbed a paper towel from the counter to wipe the squashed spider from the floor. “alright, it’s gone.” he spoke just as he threw it in the trash can.

you opened your eyes to see steve standing in front of you and you let out a huge breath of relief, “we survived.” you smiled softly, steve returning a similar one immediately, “yeah we did.”

you finally let your eyes go over him, noticing his hair was disheveled and he was wearing a red sweatshirt paired with grey sweatpants. you lightly tilted your head as you looked back up to meet his eyes, “did i wake you up when i first called you tonight?”

steve raised his brows, never failing to be amazed by how well you knew him, “yeah, you did, but it’s fine.” he waved you off. you frowned, taking a step closer so you could wrap your arms around his waist, “i’m sorry.”

he smiled sweetly at you, “don’t worry about it, sweets.” he placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes went over your features, “it doesn’t matter what time it is, i’ll always be there to save you from a spider.”

you pressed your lips together, trying to contain a smile as you felt a small blush creeping upon your cheeks, “you were also scared though.”

steve playfully rolled his eyes, “pfffff, no i wasn’t.” he spoke as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you closer against him, resting his chin on the top of your head.

[tomriddleslove]

The devil can be beautiful.

✩Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader (Part 1)

SLOWBURN SERIES

Summary: The one where you have it all planned. There’s not a single thing you haven’t sorted, you’re practically untouchable in how perfect you are. He wants to destroy you, and he always gets what he wants. Alternatively: A bet is placed on whether Mattheo can ruin you. It’s not as easy as he thinks.

A/N: Imo a bit more accurate Mattheo here? He’s fucking toxic and they’re all horrible. This is a series!

Nietzche famously rejected connotations of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. They were nought but social constructs - ways to enforce power and authority under arbitrary values. Rather, he believed ‘good’ was relative, as was ‘bad’. If an action or doing promoted life, or power, then it was ‘good’. If an action promoted weakness, and conformity, then it was ‘bad’.

You weren’t religious, but you prayed to the heavens above that Nietzche was right because fuck.

Wrong has never felt so right.

‘Pl- plea-” You gasp, a breathless moan escaping your lips as you tilt your head back. His lips attach to the tender skin of your neck, nipping and biting at the delicate skin with no regard. He was ravenous, and you tasted like ambrosia, something too sweet for him. You had never felt so alive, feeling as though you were numb yet also like every nerve end was on fire.

Ravenous lips meet pure, untouched flesh. Iconoclastic in nature, the idea of corrupting such a sweet thing was enough to send the boy into a haze.

What was the saying? A wolf in sheep's clothing? Someone who seemed so unlikely, so deceptive. You couldn’t even fall back on that as an excuse. No, Mattheo Riddle was the devil himself, presenting himself to you with red horns and a fucking pitchfork in his hand and you stupidly let him sink his fangs into you.

He was beyond tainting you, no.

Mattheo Riddle was destroying you, and you could only let him.

- • -

Proper and prim.

If you had asked anyone to describe you in two words, you were sure those were the ones they would choose.

Proper and prim.

You were near perfect. Hell, if perfection existed you would be the image of it. From your neatly ironed robe to your polished shoes. Not a single thing was out of place. You embodied routine, and order.

Hair brushed back into a simple plait. School uniform modest, your tie neatly tucked underneath your grey school jumper. You had not produced a single piece of work that scored below 100%, from apparition to flying, you simply never did bad.

“Merlin, it must be depressing,” Theodore murmurs as he watches you walk through the Slytherin common room, up to the girls' dorms.

“Who?” Blaise quips as Pansy rolls her eyes, the distaste evident in her voice as she speaks.

“Who else but her? Miss Prissy Goody-Two shoes.” Pansy drawls, redirecting the group's attention to your retreating form.

Theodore reaches into his pocket, rolling a cigarette between two fingers as he speaks.“Did you know she scored 100% on all her OWLS?”

“Of fuking course she did. All she does is bury her nose in books. No wonder she’s always alone.” Draco mocks and Lorenzo snorts.

“She’s a bit of a weirdo” Lorenzo comments and Theodore barges in, a sleazy grin on his face as he raises a brow.

“You know what they say about the quiet ones right? Always the freakiest.”

Pansy dissolves into laughter, clutching her stomach as she speaks through giggles.

“Her? She’s an absolute prude! You should have seen her when she had to work with Pucey during potions. She couldn't even look in his direction. It's pathetic if you ask me.” She taunts.

Mattheo stares off into the fireplace, legs spread lazily as he reclines back onto the sofa. He had no interest in this conversation, really. Not for the reasons one would think, though. It’s not that he secretly cared for you or something, no it was far from that. He agreed that you were rather weird, too perfect and normal to be likeable. Rather he didn't have the energy to engage in such trivial matters.

“You should go ask her out on a date or something Theo. Don’t you like the nerdy girls?” Lorenzo teases as Theodore scoffs, propping his feet up on the table in front of him.

“Absolutely not, She’ll probably perform some kind of fucking blood curse on me.” He mutters as Draco raises a brow.

“How about this? If you manage to fuck her, I’ll give you 100 Galleons.” He proposes. Lorenzo nearly spits out his water as Pansy shakes her head.

Mattheo snaps out of his daze, looking up at Draco with mild curiosity.

“100 Galleons? Are you fucking insane?” Lorenzo blurts, looking at the platinum-haired boy in disbelief.

“Oh come on. It's a guaranteed win for Draco. It’s near impossible for anyone to do that.” Pansy adds.

“I’ll do it.”

It's his first contribution to the conversation and they all turn to look at him. Theodore raises a brow, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as Pansy leans forward.

“Oh? And what makes you think you can?” She taunts.

“Look at her. Teacher’s pet, an absolute loner. Always reading. It’s so predictable. She probably has wet dreams about some bad boy coming to sweep her off her feet. It’s almost too easy.” He says, cracking his neck with a small groan as he sits up.

He could really do with the money. 100 Galleons could buy him at least 3 weeks in the shabby little inn he frequented over the school holidays.

Draco eyed him curiously, before extending his slim pale hand out.

“Agreed. 100 galleons if you manage to fuck her within a month.” Draco repeats, and Mattheo takes the offer.

His calloused palms meet Draco’s, and he shakes on it with a resolute nod, before leaning back in his chair.

1 month? What a joke. He only needed 2 weeks.

-•-

It had been two days after that conversation and Mattheo had been observing you closely, waiting for the right opportunity to crop up. In the meantime, he dissects everything about you. Theodore was right, you were so undeniably boring and monotonous Mattheo had to pause and wonder if you were a sadist of sorts, finding pleasure in such mind-numbing perfection.

It was the same damned thing every single day. You would turn up for breakfast at 8:00, and fix yourself a plate of porridge topped with a handful of blueberries. You’d eat as you read the newspaper, and finish by 8:15. You’d rise, put your bowl away, and head to your first class. You ate lunch during the first half, the same sandwich and apple every day. After lessons, you’d go up to the library. You’d take the furthest seat on the second floor, between the muggle studies and world history books. You would revise for 3 hours, close your books, and head back up to your dorm. You would then re-emerge no longer than 20 minutes later (still dressed in your school uniform) and head down to dinner. You always ate whatever was offered, had a single mug of peppermint tea, and then headed back up to your dorm before it was even 10.

Every. Single. Day.

Mattheo could not comprehend how on earth someone could live like that. Surely you had to be some sort of psychopath, right? There was no way you could find peace and comfort in such a routine. Sure, Mattheo certainly did not feel content, but he’s as sure as the sky is blue that he’d go insane if he lived like you.

Maybe you had some sort of secret? Perhaps you escaped the castle grounds at night to smoke or do some hardcore drugs. Maybe you were some sort of recluse who believed they were some sort of divine being. Your meticulously structured routine, your unwavering discipline—it all seemed too calculated, too perfect. There had to be something lurking beneath the surface, something that explained your seemingly robotic adherence to the same monotonous pattern day after day.

The countless possibilities run through Mattheos mind as he rests his chin on his hand, zoned out as he sits at the back of the astronomy class. Professor Sinastra drones on about Lunar phases and their implications on a wizard’s abilities. Mattheo gazes off at you, who (as per usual) sits right at the front of the class. Your posture is impeccably straight, and you jot down every word Sinastra speaks as though she’s teaching the class how to become a millionaire instantly.

“... And for that reason, I would like two volunteers to come work alongside myself on a month-long project locating rogue planets in the atmosphere. Not only will this be an exciting and unique opportunity, it’ll also put you in incredibly good standing for your upcoming NEWT exams, which may I remind you are in only a few months. The study will largely commence in the evenings, however, there will be a few instances where you will be required to complete monitoring throughout the whole day. You will be excused from lessons on those days, rest assured.” She says.

Mattheo straightens up in his chair as he sees your hand shoot up almost immediately. In any other instance, your enthusiasm would be infuriating at the very least, earning you a snarky remark. But now? Well, it was clear the universe was giving him a sign.

Taking advantage of everyone else's hesitancy, Mattheo raises his hand. A few murmurs ripple through the class, and Professor Sinastra cannot hide her surprise as she nods at Mattheo.

“I must say, I am glad to see you volunteering Mr Riddle.” She says, and Mattheo nods.

He can’t make it too obvious, though. He usually wouldn't be caught dead volunteering for such a thing.

“Getting to skip classes and being permitted to roam around at night? No brainer.” He says, not so subtly to Blaise. Granted, Blaise knows Mattheo’s true intentions, but the statement seems to satisfy the rest of their class, who turn back to their work whilst muttering about how it was a rather good offer.

Mattheo looks over to you, only to find you turned around in your seat, observing him for a second. Your eyes squint, an almost imperceptible change, before you quickly avert your gaze and turn back around.

“You might actually have this one.” Blaise murmurs, leaning closer to Mattheo. He can’t help but smile, an almost arrogant smirk, as he nods.

Looking at the way you diligently return to your work, Mattheo’s indifference suddenly morphs into determination.

This was too easy.

-•-

Mattheo saunters up the stairs to the astronomy tower, the faint moonlight just barely illuminating the path in front of him. As he pushes open the door to the tower, he sees you perched by the telescope. You're still in your school uniform, looking pristine as you sit on the floor, scribbling notes down in your book. You look up at the intrusion, clearing your throat when you see Mattheo. In the dim moonlight, Mattheo can see your face turn slightly red as you swiftly avert your gaze down to the floor.

“Riddle.” You greet, quietly. He hums in acknowledgement, setting his bag down to the side as he slumps against the wall, leaning back.

“Professor um- Professor Sinastra has asked us to just observe the sky and try to make predictions for when we can sight a rogue planet. I’m mapping the movement of the planets but she said you should try to calculate angles of visibility.” You murmur, voice quiet and hesitant.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as he looks over at you. "Angles of visibility, huh?" he muses, pushing himself off the wall and saunters over to where you're seated. "Sounds like a job for someone with a keen eye for detail."

You glance up at him, your expression guarded as you nod in agreement. "Yes, exactly. It's crucial to accurately calculate the angles to ensure our observations are precise."

He laughs, but it's not genuine. No, rather it's almost mocking.

“What makes you think I’m doing any of that, hmm? This is just an excuse for me to skip classes. How this is actually going to work, is that you’re going to do all the work, and let me slap my name on the parts I was meant to do, yeah?” he says, his tone oozing with faux sincerity.

You look up at him, a glimpse of surprise flashing in your eyes.

There we go. Wasn’t so hard to get a reaction out of you, wasn’t it? Mattheo thinks to himself, raising a brow. This would be simple enough. You’d fight back, and after a bit, he’d reluctantly agree. He’d begin to feign actual interest and before you knew it he’d be walking away with 100 galleons added to his name.

But instead of fighting, you nod and look back down at your book.

“Ok.” You murmur.

Mattheo's smirk falters for just a moment as he processes your response. He hadn't expected you to simply agree, to comply without so much as a hint of resistance. It throws him off balance, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“What? You’re not going to disagree? Or go snake on me to Professor Sinastra?” His voice comes out more incredulous than he intended, a mixture of surprise and confusion evident in his tone.

You glance up at him, your expression unreadable. "It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" you reply calmly, your voice devoid of any trace of emotion.

Mattheo's mind races, trying to make sense of your reaction. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to push back, to challenge him, to give him something to work with. But instead, you're just... accepting it.

A flicker of annoyance flares within him, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. This wasn't what he had planned, wasn't how it was supposed to play out. He wanted a challenge, not this... this acquiescence.

He eyes you with a small frown, before turning on his heel and walking out. He’s both frustrated and confused, pondering your words as he makes his way back to the Slytherin common room. Were you really that pathetic? Did you actually have no backbone?

He walks back into the relatively empty common room, spotting the whole group in their usual spot. He goes over to them, tossing his bag to the side as he plops down onto the sofa with a sigh. Pansy eyes him with amusement as she speaks.

“So how was your first evening with our perfect student? Did you woo her under the stars?” Pansy teases as Mattheo fishes around in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Serenade her with a poem?”Theodore joins in, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Merlin, I knew she was a stick-up but to be that much of a push-over? She’s so mind-numbingly fucking boring it's actually insane.” Mattheo starts, lighting the cigarette as he takes a deep drag.

“I mean, I told her that she had to do all the work and give me the credit, and she just said ok! No fighting back, not even a look of annoyance. She just looked down and said Ok,” He exclaims, still rather baffled as he smokes his cigarette.

Lorenzo raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Well, isn't that just precious," he taunts, the hint of mockery in his tone unmistakable. "Our little goody-two-shoes just rolling over and playing dead at the first sign of trouble."

Mattheo scowls, taking another drag from his cigarette as he mulls over their words. It's frustrating, infuriating even, to think that you would just acquiesce without so much as a fight. He had been expecting resistance but instead, he's met with nothing but compliance, and it grates on his nerves in a way he can't quite explain.

"Well, whatever," Mattheo mutters, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he leans back against the sofa.

Just as he goes to speak, his eyes are drawn to the entrance of the common room. The group falls silent at your arrival. You walk through the common room, not even glancing in their direction as you clutch your school bag tightly, heading back up to your dorm.

‘Like you have your tail between your legs’ Mattheo thinks, observing your retreating form.

“Maybe it turned her on?” Theodore proposes. Draco groans, setting down his mug as he rolls his eyes.

“That's disgusting. I do not need to be thinking about that,” He complains.

“You’re the weirdo who proposed the bet anyway!” Theodore quips back, and they soon fall into a silly argument.

It’s all background noise for Mattheo, who can't seem to stop thinking about you. There was no chance you were simply so easily swayed, so complacent. No, there had to be more to it.

Mattheo was a Slytherin through and through. Cunning, resourceful, and ambitious. And if he wanted something, he would always get it. Mattheo would win this bet, and if not for the 100 galleons, it would be to unravel and destroy you, for he saw in your innocence a challenge — a spotless canvas begging for the brushstrokes of corruption, a pure soul ripe for the taint of himself. Even the most virtuous are not spared, and in his eyes, your fall would be his ultimate triumph.

@schaebickel @multifandom-worlds @mildlyuninformative @lillywildly @gillyweeds @anti-hero03

[another-lost-mc]

Diavolo with a yan!MC that ends up getting caught by him?

DIAVOLO x Yandere!Reader 1.1k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Yandere Elements | Suggestive Content warnings: Yandere behaviour including obsessive thoughts, manipulation, stalking, suggestive content. ➤➤ Obey Me! Masterlist

Lucifer doesn’t suspect a thing when you eagerly volunteer to help with RAD student council tasks. He thinks you’re trying to make a good impression on him and the other demons monitoring the success of the student exchange program.

He’s not going to refuse your help, especially when his brothers are less than reliable at the best of times. You’re enthusiastic and oh so curious about the history of the school, and the Devildom, and of course, Diavolo. Lucifer could talk for hours about Diavolo’s hard work and his dreams for the future - to your delight, sometimes he does.

Lucifer also isn’t the type to turn down the offer of pleasant company when he has to run errands at the Demon Lord’s castle. Sometimes you bring gifts for Diavolo, human world desserts you’ve made from scratch. You must’ve gotten access to Leviathan’s Akuzon account because those ingredients are difficult to come by. 

Lucifer thinks it’s almost refreshing to see the look of shy excitement on your face when you hand Diavolo a homemade treat. Something about the Devildom seems to be bringing out the best in you because he finds you charming - and he's not the only demon to think so.

(Neither of you realize that Diavolo notices a change in you, too. He enjoys your small gifts, your tokens of appreciation. He eats your food selfishly and thinks about you while he licks his lips clean.)

No, Lucifer doesn’t mind at all that you’ve taken such a keen interest in learning more about the Devildom or its prince. It’s the reason why Lucifer agreed to bring you as his guest to a party at Diavolo’s castle.

Lucifer mentioned the party to you in passing, and he felt a little guilty when the excitement in your eyes faded to disappointment when he said your presence wasn't necessary. He surprised you the next day with confirmation you could accompany him. He asked Barbatos for permission to bring you, even though you weren't formally invited.

"They may consider it my lord's gift to them, in recognition of their effort and hard work lately," Barbatos told him with a mysterious smile.

The next evening, the party is in full swing and you're wearing something extravagant and expensive that Asmodeus picked for you and that Lucifer paid for. You linger by Lucifer’s side - he’s not usually far from Diavolo, which means you’re not far from Diavolo.

The demon prince is exceedingly handsome in his RAD uniform, but nothing compares to the majesty of Diavolo's demonic horns and wings on proud display. Arousal hums beneath your skin and you have to remind yourself not to stare.

Most of the demons are getting drunk off Demonus, and even Lucifer seems a bit loose-lipped this evening. Some of the guests have brought Diavolo gifts; you’re pretending to listen to Lucifer when you overhear Diavolo ask Barbatos to take the gifts to his room.

It’s easy to slip away from Lucifer who’s distracted by booze and conversation. Your gaze narrows on Barbatos who moves quietly through the crowd. He exits through a doorway on the far side of the room, and when you're certain no one notices your absence, you follow him.

You’ve visited the castle before, but you haven't figured out where Diavolo’s personal chambers are located. You’re as quiet as possible when you follow Barbatos down unfamiliar hallways and up new flights of stairs you haven’t explored yet. His shoes click loudly when he walks across the stone floor. You linger behind and let the echoes of his footsteps guide you towards your destination.

You reach an elaborately decorated hallway that's dimly lit except for a few fiery torch sconces mounted on the walls. You can't see Barbatos, but you hear a door creak open then slam shut. His footsteps echo louder when he starts walking back towards your location. You slip into a random doorway - some sort of small library - and wait for him to pass.

Once you can no longer hear him, you venture back into the hallway until you find what must be the entrance to Diavolo’s room. You look around before you pull the heavy door open and walk inside.

Light from the hallway spills across the floor and casts most of the room in heavy shadow. You leave the door open so you can claim you got lost if one of the servants happens to find you.

You take a few steps forward and breathe the scent of him into your lungs. Diavolo smells spicy and slightly sweet, like the boozy, smoky scent of drinking in front of a crackling fire. You’ve caught whiffs of him when you leaned in close to hand him something, or when you accidentally brushed by him in the RAD hallways. His scent is much richer here, much more potent, and you can almost taste him on your tongue.

You don’t realize how distracted you are until you hear a quiet chuckle behind you. When you gasp and turn around, all you can see is him. Diavolo is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He's just inside the open doorway while flickering light from the hallway dances across his skin. He tilts his head and considers you, the brave little human who thought their lingering glances and erratic heartbeat in his presence went unnoticed.

You stare at each other. You're so nervous and overwhelmed that you can barely breathe. His eyes are dark and his gaze scorches your skin when he gives you a very thorough once-over while he decides what to do with you. His lips curl into a smile that looks hungry.

“You’re braver than I thought,” he admits when he finally speaks to you. His voice is low and gravelly - you’ve never heard him sound like this before.

But then he does something you don’t expect: he reaches for the door and pushes it closed. The room is eerily dark now, but you can just barely see him in front of you. He pushes away from the wall and takes agonizingly slow, deliberate steps towards you.

You're frozen in place while your body trembles with fear and desire. The urge to fall to your knees before him in reverence is overwhelming.

“Humans are so intriguing," he murmurs to himself. His voice is deafening in the black silence that surrounds you. He reaches forward to caress your face, and you lean into the touch with a sigh. Before he pulls you to him, you see a glimpse of his fangs when he grins at you.

"You’ve earned the prince’s attention, my dear - there’s no turning back now.”

When he tilts your chin up, your lips and tongue meet him in a hungry, all-consuming kiss. You're lightheaded when the kiss ends. His hands wander across your body. and his chest is rumbling against yours.

Diavolo inhales sharply when you slip from his arms and fall to your knees. When you reach for his waist, you're desperate to show him how intriguing this human can really be.

[flowersandbigteeth]

A snuggle with your villainous voidbeast husband

Voidbeast (Valerian) x Female Reader

General Plot: You've been kidnapped by a void beast and he wants to make you dinner.

Part One, Part Three

Word Count: 1K

W: Yandere vibes, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping

You followed the beast down a long hallway with a vaulted ceiling. Chandeliers flickered candlelight on the walls casting strange shadows around him...Shadows with eyes and faces. One moment you think they are mocking you, then weeping for you, then…you have to look away, focusing instead on your guide’s back. 

“Is this still Earth?” you ventured. 

“Yes, darling,” he said, lowering his echoing voice to just a rumble. For your comfort perhaps? 

“This is the Earth, but not the one you knew. We are millions of years in the future from your time.” 

“The future?” you gasped, “but it seems more like the past.” 

He waved his claws back at you dismissively. 

“Humans thrive and fall in cycles, much like mold,” he explained, “I quite like this time. It’s simple, yes, but men are…seething vermin. In this time they haven’t developed toxic gas that burns the body from the inside and bombs that eat flesh for years afterwards. At this time they are only bashing each other’s heads open with sticks and rocks and after the warning I’ve given them for dallying in magic it will be a long time before they advance beyond that.” 

He sounded disgusted, but suddenly his bright golden eyes were on you and his claw was at your throat. You felt it scrape a precise line across your artery on its way to your chin. 

“Not you, my star,” he clarified, tipping your head up, “you somehow materialized like an impossible gem in a cave full of rubble.” 

You swallowed thickly. 

“Um…thank…you?” you decided and nodded your head confirming that is in fact what your terrified mind meant to say. 

It was best to stay polite and not upset the monster. You’d just witnessed him flick a grown man out of a window like he was a fly and for some reason, you would never understand why, he didn’t look at you like gum on his shoe. 

His long tongue snaked out and ran over his fangs and your eyes widened. 

“What would you like to eat darling?” he asked. 

You blinked. What did you want to eat?

“Um…p-pizz…a?” you offered the first thing that came to mind. 

“Pizza it is!” he boomed and your hair fluffed on your neck from his breath. It was quite cool, but didn’t smell bad. In fact it smelled a bit like mint, honey, and the mysteries of the universe. 

His claws wrapped around you and he swept you up in his arms, letting you rest on one of his forearms so you could get a closer look at his face. His skin was smooth, with a pearlescent luster and before your eyes galaxies twirled on its surface. You found yourself running a finger curiously over his cheek. He couldn’t be real. Turning your attention to his gold spun hair, you ran it through your fingers, examining each fiber. It felt like silk and it glittered with its own light. His horn hovered frighteningly close to your head as he carried you down the hall and you gave it an experimental stroke, eliciting a deep purr from the beast. 

“What are you?” you murmured. 

He looked at you warmly. 

“I’m an entity coalesced from void essence,” he explained and you nodded sagely ingesting this fact. 

“And…you like…pizza?” you asked. What you really wanted to know was, was he going to swallow your soul or your life force or something of that nature, but how did you ask that?

“I generally prefer to consume stardust,” he said, “but pizza is also delicious.” 

You let out a relieved breath and sagged against him, which prompted him to pat your back fondly. 

“Don’t worry my servants are very good cooks,” he assured you, taking you into a large kitchen. 

What you could only describe as small demons with horns and tails scrambled around underfoot as Valerian stomped into the room. 

“Pizza!” he boomed and his underlings fell over themselves to roll out dough and dice up massive sausages for toppings. 

When he was satisfied the pizza was being produced, he took you into a warm study and sat on an overstuffed chair much too large for you, pulling you safely into the center of his lap where you couldn’t jump free. 

You noticed the rooms in his home were all kept quite warm, but when you pressed your fingers to his skin it felt cool. With two shimmering claws, he lifted your hair off of your neck and pressed chilly kisses on your spine just at the base of your neck. His large teeth scraped your skin as his lips danced over it. You shuddered in his arms and your cheeks heated up, whirling around to face him. 

“Y-you c-can’t do that!” you squealed, pushing his head away by his horn. 

He chuckled at you, his four eyes focusing on yours. 

“I can’t kiss my wife?” he asked. 

You pouted. 

“I’m not your wife!” you exclaimed. Maybe hunger had made you lose your cool a bit, you hadn’t meant to confront him. 

He narrowed his eyes at you. 

“You’d rather be with one of those drooling humans?!” he snarled, his face becoming more monstrous and horrifying with each second of anger. His smooth jaw split revealing the spiky molars at the back of his mouth. You watched his tongue twitch as it thrashed with annoyance. His nose grew more feline with flared nostrils releasing cool clouds of breath. 

 “I’ll wipe the planet of them so they won't tempt you!” 

Your eyes widened and you held up your hands. 

“Well it’s not like that!” you started to explain, trying desperately not to be responsible for genocide. 

“So you prefer me to the humans?” he asked. 

You blinked at him and scratched your neck. 

“Well…yes…I suppose I do, but-” you said. 

“Then you shall be my wife,” he said, “we favor each other. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be together.” 

“Well there's just normally a get-to-know-you period and …I don’t know…a wedding,” you mumbled.

You certainly weren’t going to overpower the void beast, so your best hope of getting out of this situation was to appeal to his logic. Yet, as you searched your mind for reasons why he couldn’t marry you, you failed to come up with any. He’d already dragged you into an unknown time and locked you away in his castle, that was the next logical step. 

He nodded, his eyes warm. It pleased him to see you come to terms with your situation. He knew it would be hard for you, but he'd seen how incredibly adaptable you could be. That was one of the things he admired about you. He was sure with time, you would be perfectly fine. The tips of his claws played with the ends of your hair, winding and unwinding the strands around the sharp points. 

“Ah yes, human weddings,” he said, “I should have guessed you would want one of those. I apologize for my oversight, darling. You shall have the finest wedding! The planet will celebrate our match!” 

“Um…okay…” you murmured. 

It would have been nice to have your family at your wedding, but if what he said was true they had been dead for millions of years. Everything you’d known and everyone you’d met were long, long gone. You sucked in a deep breath, carrying with it Valerian’s alluring scent, clutching the silk of the robe he was wearing for comfort. This expression of vulnerability pleased him and his face returned to its placid, handsome form.  His large hand cradled your back and he pulled you closer to him. He arranged your head inside of his horn and snuggled your cheek. 

“I’ve waited so long to have you in my arms (Y/N), I can’t bear to put you down,” he murmured. 

You could appreciate that he was like a nice cooling pad against your overwarm skin, so you let him hold you close and relaxed into his arms.

[notroosterbradshaw]

The Relationship Experience - four

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

three.

It was Friday.

Babies had been born, threenagers refused to sleep, and the world kept spinning but it was finally D-Day. Your first date with Rooster was approaching and you had no idea what was coming. Hard to say his last text didn’t exactly expel any confusion.

Rooster 🐓: This is super late notice, but I need you to wear something comfy tonight. I can’t wait to see you. I’ll be there at 7 x

Looking at the dress freshly steamed in the bathroom, you panicked. It certainly didn’t look like it fit the comfy bill, but it filled the ‘wine me, dine me, fuck me’ bill…

It had been a day: the majority of it spent primping and priming yourself, and fuck,you were exhausted. But you were brought to a halt, thinking you were prepared until Rooster’s text told you not to go too OTT. Your new shoes - you know, the ones that might not see the electric bill be paid this month - laughed raucously at you. Heading back to your cupboard, you considered how to casual down the drape dress you were certain of only moments earlier.

Really, the heels were the star and Rooster could fucking piggyback you if it didn’t suit his first date aesthetic, you deliberated indignantly.

“It’s not like he’s going to take you to a hoedown,” you reasoned to yourself, knowing that the outfit and shoes were going to happen regardless of his requests. Rooster would tell you if it was completely inappropriate. But right now, all you wanted to do was make his head explode. He wasn’t going to be far away, and you needed to knock his socks off when you answered the door. Procrastinating and talking yourself out of an amazing outfit wasn’t going to help you –

Hearing the faint knock at the front door, you paused. There was no way he was this early… it was a few minutes to 7pm and you were needing every single moment he had promised you, and maybe a few more. Still half-dressed and shoeless, you weren’t going to take the air out of his sails in your flannelette dressing gown. “Fuckkk,” you whined, hearing him knock again.

You breathed, needing to center yourself.

“Okay, he will just have to wait,” you acknowledged as you walked to the door, giddy to see him for the first time in days. You opened it with a smile, hiding behind the protection of the dense wood. “Hi,” you said as he bit back a grin. He looked so fucking delicious. Linen navy blue dress shirt rolled to his tanned forearms, camel khakis, brown boots, freshly shaved, smelling incredible. “You look fetching,” you teased.

“Thank you,” the tips of his ears flushed. “Are you dressed back there?” he tried to take a cheeky peek. Pushing back the door, you presented yourself as he chuckled quietly. “I’m either early or you took my ‘wearing something comfy’ literally…” his voice laced deeply with mirth.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re early,” you confirmed. “Sorry, I just have to change. Come in?”

“Sure,” he gave you a gentle kiss on your cheek as he passed. “Cute,” he mocked your get-up as you rolled your eyes; you weren’t supposed to be cute. “Just give me a few minutes. Go make yourself comfy,” you said, ducking back to your bedroom and inhaling sharply. You put the dressing gown back on the hook behind the door and gave yourself a once over in the mirror of the lingerie you’d picked for the night. Not your usual style, but it cost a pretty penny and if he didn’t cum in his pants the moment he saw it, that was on him because it felt incredible against your skin. And not one to toot your own horn, but you could admit this worked for you.

Running through some scenarios in your head, you went for your heels first, not knowing how simple it would be to put them on after the dress. Sandals buckled,you slipped the dress over your shoulders, finding the hidden buttons. “Okay. End him,” you hyped yourself barely above a whisper, pointing at yourself in the mirror. “Wait, no - don’t endhim. Make him really happy to see you,” you corrected yourself.

Grabbing your clutch, you cautiously entered the living room. He’d poured himself a glass of scotch (okay. So, you’d thought ahead and brought him a bottle. Clearly, he found it), sipping it as you came into his eye line.

“Made yourself comfortable now, hmmm -”

He looked up. “Oh, shit,” he stammered and you were before him. “You look incredible.”

Giving him a tense shrug, you replied, “Am I overdressed? Your text kind of…” you dreaded the answer because there was no backup.

“Well,” he considered it for a moment before a strict, “No,” escaped his lips. “You’re…”

“I hope this sentence ends well,” you bit back your smile.

“You’re everything.”

And again, with just a couple of words from Bradley, your heart raced.He stepped towards you and gave you his hand to twirl under, his gaze not missing an inch of your body.

“Fuck,” he guided you into his arms and kissed you gently, not wanting to wear your lipstick. “I can’t formulate the words.”

“That must be difficult for you,” you said smartly, taking his glass and a sip (it was still hard to take, but he seemed to appreciate the effort you made to enjoy what he did) as he smiled wide. The tension was fever pitch and if he touched you just right, there wouldn’t be a date at all. Whatever he demanded, you’d deliver dutifully. “I thought you were taking me on a date?” you gently reminded him.

Blinking back to you, Rooster nodded. “I’m just trying to not ruin everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“By ditching our plans and just taking you right here.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I feel exactly the same,” you confided, heat creeping to your face.

“Well, we got the sexual tension down,” he joked, and you smiled. “For what it’s worth, you do look beautiful. I’m finding it a little hard to concentrate,” his eyes boldly took in every curve, while his hand gripped your hip in urgency.

You laughed soundlessly as the hand that still held yours drew around you, his palm flat against your lower back. “You look handsome yourself, Bradley.”

He hummed, staring at your lips and licked his own in anticipation. “If we don’t leave now, we never will,” he reminded himself more than you.

“Okay,” you took another sip before he finished the glass in a single gulp and placed the tumbler on the coffee table, guiding you by hand to the door. You loved being led by him, watching his shoulders and back move fluidly, he let you lock up and directed you to his pride and joy, his Bronco. It didn’t impress you much, but it seemed to make him happy. He opened the passenger door and helped you step in, a strong hand firmly on your hip. You didn’t need the assistance; you were perfectly capable of getting in yourself, but you figured he was looking for an excuse to touch you. While you buckled up, he scooted to the driver’s side and hopped in.

“All good?” he asked.

“Not my first time buckling up,” you retorted gently.

“I can see that,” he huffed a laugh. “Just making sure, it’s a bit glitchy.”

“Worked fine for me,” you shrugged, giving it a secure wiggle. “Hey, Bradley?”

He hummed, raising an eyebrow, and starting the engine. “Yep?”

“If I forget to tell you later… I had a wonderful time tonight,” you gently grasped his thigh, his eyes watching the movement closely.

He smiled and leaned across to kiss you, your lipstick marking him, and you smoothed it away with your thumb. “It’s only getting started.”

And you didn’t know if he meant tonight, or forever, but it sure as hell felt like good things were coming. Very good things.

Parking at the beach, Rooster gave you a friendly smile as the sun was starting to set. You both unbuckled and he jogged around to the passenger side while you grabbed your purse, a little shocked to see him opening the door for you.

Oh, shit. He really was holding on to this gentleman's schtick, which you weren’t prepared for. “Thank you,” you said as he offered his hand. Looking towards the restaurant across the road, he shook his head, steering your gaze towards the sand. Oh, no.

“Down there,” he said. Spotting nothing in particular, even if he promised the unexpected, getting drunk on the beach with him would still be all kinds of incredible. “As sexy as those heels are, do you want to wear them in the sand?” he interrupted your thoughts.

Ducking your eyes to the heels that were already giving you hell and you’d only been in them an hour, you smiled, uncertainly. “Let me take them off.”

“I’ll help you,” he offered, walking you to a nearby bench and helping you sit. He knelt to unstrap them, his palms pressing into your ankles, finding a pressure point and you were a puddle. Once both were done, he smiled, taking them in his hands so you could hold your clutch. “Can I ask what these shoes cost?”

You shook your head, meekly. “If I said a month of rent, would you believe me and not tell Grandpa?”

Rooster laughed. “Well, they’re worth every penny. They are very sexy.”

“I think you have a heel thing, Bradshaw,” you taunted. He laughed, standing back to his full height (so tall and handsome as hell) and took your hand. You loved how he laced your fingers between his, it felt so intimate the way his thumb tickled your palm.

“Nah, I just have a thing for you in heels.”

Not other women, you. He liked you in heels. “Where are we going?” you asked, noticing he hadn’t grabbed anything from the car, so he was either taking SD’s public booze warnings to heart, or you were going empty-handed.

The breeze off the water surprised you and you wrapped your arms around Rooster’s torso, which flooded your senses with his cologne. He took the hint and wrapped you under his arm, his hand resting comfortably on your hip, keeping your body close to his. You wandered on the warm sand a few hundred meters between families enjoying the last half an hour of the sun until it finally set. A glow flickered near a rock break to reveal a small professionally kitted fire pit with blankets and cushions laid out with a cute charcuterie board and champagne on ice. Extra blankets were to the side in case it got chilly, and some music player was hidden somewhere, playing something Motown-inspired but with the waves crashing and your senses overloaded, the music seemed irrelevant.

“Oh,” you said, slightly taken back. So, he was unapologetically romantic, and this was just out of this world. The sun was setting over the water in contrasts of purple, orange and pink and Jesus… it was perfect but there was no way he did this himself. You knew he was at work today. “You did good,” you whispered before you could stop it. He grinned, with a pleased nod. “Don’t think badly of me but I phoned it in,” he admitted. “Do you really like it?”

“This is beautiful,” you said, kissing him gently, catching him off guard but he smiled. “It’s a lovely thought. I’ve never had anyone do something like this for me before,” you kissed him again and he flushed slightly this time.

“Good, now you won’t forget it,” he rasped softly. “Champagne?” he asked, pulling the bottle out of the ice, and bringing the glasses closer. You nodded, spying on the familiar yellow label of your favourite. “Only the finest of plastic,” he muttered as you snorted.

“How’d you know about the champagne?”

“This wasn’t on me,” he laughed quietly, carefully popping the cork into his palm. “This is what came with the package.”

“Lucky you,” you said with a smile, as he poured and handed you a glass. “Thank you.”

Pouring his, he jammed the bottle back into the ice chest. “Cheers, sweet girl.”

You took an eager sip, the cool liquid welcome on your tongue. “So, what gave you this idea?” you asked as he kind of shrugged, moving to his knees and taking a seat facing the ocean, stretching his lean legs out before him. He offered you his calloused palm to sit with him, close to the food, and grabbed a grape in earnest. “Thank you,” you took back your hand to smooth the skirt of the dress from creeping any further upwards than what was considered proper.

“Well, you love the beach, the water. Tell me what’s better than the beach at sunset?”

“Being on the beach at sunset with you,” you told him earnestly.

“Oh,” he said. Sometimes your confidence overwhelmed him in the best possible ways, and he lived for it.

“This is special.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you like it,” he offered you his hand which you gladly gave him, and he kissed the back of it tenderly.

“How’s the champagne?” you nudged him as he took a wary sip. He’d told you he wasn’t a champagne guy but he raised a piqued eyebrow and nodded.

“This is actually not so bad.”

“Real champagne. I think the wedding the other night was trying to convince us they weren’t serving sparkling wine,” you scoffed.

“You know your stuff.”

“I know this,” your toes pointed to the bottle in question. Rooster laughed.

“God, I feel like I dodged a bullet,” he pretended to loosen his collar.

“You did good,” you promised him. He put his glass on the small stool and used the same hand to cup your cheek, adjusting his posture to look at you. He melted your soul with those eyes, and it pained you how he made it all seem so easy.

“I want to make you really happy, sweet girl,” he breathed and kissed you, softly. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better this week. Thought I knew all I needed to know and now I kind of feel like I don’t know anything.”

“Isn’t that what the getting-to-know-you part is?” you teased gently.

“I was pretty arrogant to not think about that,” he admitted as you grinned.

“You’ve probably learned a lot more about me that you didn't want to know.”

“I want to know everything, baby,” he said firmly. “I need to know everything. What makes you smile, what’s your favourite smell, what turns you on? All of it.”

You wanted to joke the answer to all those questions would probably be him, Bradley. You hummed, preferring to keep your trap shut. “I didn’t take you for a romantic, Rooster,” you declared.

“I don’t think I am a huge romantic,” he conceded. “I did want to put on a bit of a show for you, though. I want to impress you, make you feel special.”

“Well, consider me impressed,” you confided. But as gorgeous as the beach was in front of you, with the waves crashing violently on the shore, the sun disappearing behind the clouds and the colours of the sky gradually fading to black, thanks to the low light of the fire pit dancing across his features, all you could see was him.

And tonight, you knew, you were falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw.

He made you feel alive. You didn’t realise you were just bumbling along until he figuratively swept in and changed it all for the better. It was fast, it was sudden, and something that couldn’t be explained. You weren’t one to fall quickly, but he caught you each time you tripped.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked lowly.

“Anything,” he said, easing back on his forearms and watching you.

“I had a bit of a crush on you when we were kids.”

He grinned widely, his eyes lighting up. “Can I tell you something?” You nodded. “I knew,” he told you modestly.

“What?” you exclaimed as he chuckled quietly. You were mortified.

“You weren’t exactly subtle about it. You kind of gave me these puppy dog eyes every time I was around. You were a bit young for me though,” he reminded you. “What were you, 13, 14?”

“You were 17!” You wanted the ocean to drag you out and never be seen again. “I’m so embarrassed,” you laughed weakly.

“Don’t be. Feel vindicated!” He winked. “You’ve got me falling over myself for you now. You got what you wanted.”

You laughed a little louder. “You know, I had no idea about how you ever felt.”

“You forced yourself to deny it,” he corrected you, nudging you with his knee, and you looked at him with a slight frown. “You knew,” he continued.

You stayed silent for a moment, and there was no refuting it. Maybe you did know. You always acknowledged his sweetness, but never allowed yourself to think any more of it in case it led down a path that would ruin everything. “I guess I did.”

“Why didn’t you reciprocate?”

“Because I liked our friendship and keeping you at arm’s length when you do what you do seemed like a safer option. I know what’s at stake. What if I was wrong about you?” you asked softly. “Putting myself out there and having my suspicions confirmed? It would have crushed me.”

“So, you choose to close yourself off?”

“You did,” you reminded him.

“Um,” he raised a finger to correct you. “I shipped out.”

“How convenient,” you teased.

He nodded, licking his lip. “I suppose.”

“Was it just Nat asking you about the wedding?”

“I knew I was ready to do something to get your attention. It was good timing, I guess? But I just didn’t think… you were into me the way I was into you? And I’m still not sure you are… but I think you’re starting to believe that whatever this is between us is real.”

It was so sincere, and so right, that you kissed him again.

“This isn’t all too much for you, is it?” he asked slowly.

You shook your head. “No.”

“What’s changed?”

“You showed me what it could be like for us and I started to imagine it was possible.”

“It’s only getting started, baby,” he told you confidently, invading your space and he eased his body over yours, his palm under your head gently protecting you from getting too sandy. “I’m never gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Even if this nosedives, I’ll always be there for you.”

He watched you settle on his words and palmed your cheek before kissed you deeply.

“I’m so crazy about you,” he confided, your name falling like a mantra on his full lips.

There was no way he was ready to say the words that lingered on his tongue. Not yet, not tonight. He wasn’t that guy that tossed those words out freely. But he was certain of how he felt and when the moment was right, he’d let you know. And he was sure you’d return it with every fibre of his being.

It turned out to be a beautiful night. You had a few drinks, ate way too much delicious food, and shared a few cute stories with Rooster.

It wasn’t too deep, but the tone changed when he told you about his papers being pulled for the Academy, how after all these years he was still speechless as to why Maverick, the man he’d looked upon as a father figure after his own father’s death, who had steered him into adulthood, could betray him so deeply.

New ground was being covered.

You told him you remembered the night he came to Grandpa’s house and demanded if he knew why Mav had done him so dirty. You told him you remembered Grandpa holding him, restraining him as he wept openly, angrily, frustrated, devastated that the only thing Bradley wanted in his life was to fly, but now he’d have to go about it another way. A series of devastating blows in such a short amount of time. Losing Carole, flying… Maverick.

It was hard to watch him so deeply betrayed, and even now, so long after, you could feel the sting in his words, “If I never see Mav again, it’ll be too fuckin’ soon,” he muttered as you leaned into him.

“I’m sorry, Rooster.”

“Like, adding to the sting, Mom never wanted me to be a pilot either,” he confessed. “But it’s the only thing that ever felt right, you know?”

“She would be so proud of you, and what you’ve achieved,” you said simply.

He sighed, his fingers squeezing yours. “Ya think?”

“I know.”

He shrugged. “Guess we will never know though, huh?”

“Bradley… you had to do what made you happy,” you continued. “Yeah, it’s taken you a bit longer to get there. But you’re one of the best and there is no denying it.”

He nodded, solemnly. “Mom assumed the same thing would happen to me - that I’d share my dad’s fate.”

To yourself, you knew the risks. You remembered Grandpa, and to an extent, your old man. You forgot how it felt to hold your breath that long until they came home. Now you’d have to add Rooster to that special list. The risks of your friends were always there, but Rooster was in another category: The ones you couldn’t lose at any cost, and you kissed his cheekbone. You could feel his smile under your touch.

“I guess,” he shrugged. “I mean, I got over having to get through it all the long way. College was great, but maybe I wasn’t ready for it? Mom had just died, I was about to roam free, you know?”

“I imagine you were pretty good at it. Breaking hearts left, right and center.”

He giggled quietly. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“I call bullshit,” you sang as he grinned at you, relieved for the turn in the conversation. “There was no way you weren’t whoring yourself out all over UVA. God, there must have just been mass destruction and panty-dropping.”

He laughed again. “You think this is what I was like at 18? My nerves were shot. I was an orphan. I went to a school where I didn’t know anyone to try and get my opportunity. I was probably a bit of a nerd as a freshman. I got over that quick though,” he smiled.

“There ya go,” you laughed.

“Tell me something,” he said softly. You gazed up at him, the champagne just giving you the right kind of buzz and his cologne adding to it. “The night of the bonfire...”

Blinking, but not quite catching his drift, you shrugged. Always an innocuous night for you.

“You don’t remember much, huh?”

“I remember being hungover the next day. Like, one of the worst of my life. But it seemed like a fun night. Why? Did I embarrass myself?” you ask, paranoia etched all over your face.

He shook his head with a fond grin. “Can I tell you something that happened that night? Since you’ve clearly blocked it out. It’s kind of instrumental to everything in my life right now.”

It seemed so deep, you feared his words. “I don’t think I want to know.”

He laughed. “I told you that your smile was what won me over. But it’s always won me over. I’ve always loved your smile,” he said as you dreaded his words. “You were in a bit of a state, so I took you for a walk to try and sober you up. You were rambling about wanting to travel again, that there was nothing here in town for you. You had work and you were grateful, but nothing else was trapping you to stay.”

“Sounds like me,” you conceded. Not much had really changed.

“I said that night that I was considering a transfer to be stationed here.”

“You guys move a lot. It sucks. I hate missing you all.”

“You said exactly that.”

You giggled quietly. “I still don’t know where you’re going with this.”

“You told me that if I came back, you’d stay so I’d have someone to take care of me - all in your drunken ramble,” he laughed quietly.

“I did?” you giggled quietly. That didn’t sound like you.

“And then!” he said, chuckling. “You told me that this was my home. That it was where I belonged, where the people who loved me were and that I’d always have a home with you, your family…”

“Well, that’s true,” you acknowledged as he smiled.

“I got my transfer the week before the wedding. There’s been some political bullshit surrounding it all, but it seems to be sorted. I’m moving home.”

Wide-eyed, you couldn’t find the words.

He nudged you. “So, it looks like you’ll just have to put up with me now. Permanently.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly. “Bradley! That’s amazing. I didn’t even know this was a possibility.” You kissed him fondly and he nodded, adjusting his posture to hold you.

“That okay?”

You nodded, cupping his handsome face in your gentle hands. “This is the best news.”

He grinned. “You’re stuck with me. So, this kinda has to work,  this being a small town and all,” he joked. You tenderly held his face and kissed him lightly and a slight chill ran down your spine, the wind changing and getting a bit cool. “Blanket?” he asked, reaching for it but you stopped him.

“No,” you told him, bringing him back to you, kissing him again, a little force behind it and you gently caressed his face. “Bradley… take me home.”

Rooster let you take his hand as you got back to your apartment. You knew there was no stopping tonight. No detours for a polite glass of water to settle nerves bubbling under the surface. No need to tease each other unmercifully on the couch. Just a direct line to your bedroom.

You’d left the warm light of the bedside table lamp on to greet you when you returned, making it easy on your eyes. Thankfully, the condoms Rooster had left behind earlier in the week were left undisturbed in your nightstand, leaving everything you needed together for easy access.

“I like your room. Feels like home,” he admitted quietly, stepping behind you and his fingertips grazing as he moved your hair to kiss the base of your neck. Not prepared, your knees gave out a little as you reached up to knot your fingers into his soft curls.

“Don’t stop,” you said, and he smiled into your skin. He’d made no secret that he would be a devoted student to learn everything about what made your body weak for him. “That’s so good.”

He hummed, acknowledging it and banking it for next time. “Where else do you want me to kiss you?”

You turned to face him as you clutched his shirt, bringing him down to you. “I don’t care, just don’t stop.”

“Thatta girl, exactly what I needed you to say,” he tenderly held your hips as he sat down on the edge of your bed. His thighs were wide and he ushered you between them.

“This dress is not conducive to this position,” you confided, and Rooster nodded, knowingly.

“Then ditch it,” he said simply, his voice so low you almost didn't catch it.

“Can you help me?” you asked softly.

“Just tell me how,” he told you, fingers roaming the material for a zip.

“Buttons. Here and here,” you hinted, moving your arms from his search, while he found the dastardly fasteners, slowly opening the front. One by one, his eyes only on yours, he brushed the dress back off your torso, only to be greeted with lace and soft skin. Getting a peak at what was underneath, Rooster swallowed hard.

“Can I take it off?” he begged quietly. You nodded as he stood up to brush the shoulders of the dress away, the material slipping to the floor. “Jesus Christ,” Rooster’s mouth went dry as the dress you wore now pooled around your feet. Bathed in the lingerie, that frankly left absolutely nothing to the imagination, Rooster chewed his tongue, almost tasting blood. “I am so scared I’ll cum before I’m even in you,” he confessed, his hands pushing back your mussed hair and dragging you to him, fingers digging into your hips, the pressure of your body against his firm cock giving him a momentary respite.

“That’s exactly what I hoped for,” you said, staring at the buttons of his shirt as he pulled it over his head when it was loosened enough and he gladly tossed it away. Your fingers drifted across his soft, golden skin and down his toned abdominals, nails scratching lightly against the firm muscles as he flinched.

“Ticklish.”

You’d forgotten, but it was too fucking late now. “Gee,” you said wistfully. “I know you have to stay in shape for work and stuff, but your body is crazy.”

He laughed quietly. “Thank you, I think?” He took your face in his hands as you found the button and fly of his pants, widening the waist to push them down. “Go ahead,” he instructed gently and watching your hands lower the slacks to his ankles and he kicked them off.

Remembering your derailed plans from earlier in the week, you knew that if anyone tried to disrupt this revelry, you would just have to kill them. Simple as that.

“Come here,” he said, sighing deeply before he kissed you again.

His kisses were different now. No demand, no urgency, just slow. Exploring the taste of your tongue, his hands drifted down your back, massaging your hips and he moved you towards the bed. He guided you to the mattress first, laying you down and he hovered over you, his thigh nudging yours apart. He carefully lay his weight on you, and fuck, you’d forgotten how much you craved it.

His lips left yours, trailing a mess of wet kisses down your chin, your throat and splayed across your clavicle. “I need this. I need to taste you, baby,” he told you, holding your ribs and lightly pinning you down. His usually warm eyes watched you, hauntingly dark in his longing. Reaching for the cup of your bra, he drew it down, and his skilled mouth caressed your nipple, which you’d freely admit was desperate for some attention. He huffed a small laugh, picking up on the hint as you pushed your chest into it. “Good girl, tell me what you like,” he whispered into your skin, moving to give the other side the devoutness it deserved, using his palms to massage the soft skin, his fingers pinching, his tongue circling and your eyes drifted closed.

He sat you up for a moment, and bringing your attention back to him, his hands drifted around your back and unclipped your bra (in only a few seconds, good for him), dragging it down your arms and letting you fall back against the mattress. “Just beautiful,” he breathed deeply, face hovering over yours again. “Hi,” he smiled.

“Hello,” you traced his lower lip.

“You good?” he asked softly, licking his top lip and caging you in his strong embrace. He knew you didn’t need to be asked.

“If you keep doing what you’re doing, I think I’ll forget my name.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge? Because I’m willing to make that bet.”

You laughed with a languid shrug. “You promised me a 12, Bradshaw...”

He hummed, amused. “You’ll get your fuckin’ 12...” He kissed you, his tongue warm and wet against yours, his weight relaxing on you, and you wrapped him up tightly, never wanting to let him go but he had other thoughts, leaving your lips again, working quickly down to your ribs.

Your toes were curling.

It was hard not to keen into his ministrations with how desperate you were to watch him discover your body. You dug your nails into his scalp as he looked up with a lazy grin, letting you know he appreciated that too. You softly massaged and tugged at his unruly curls as he breathed deeply against your tummy, continuing south on his trek. He released your ribs and moved his body towards the end of the bed, your legs still splayed wide as he licked his lips.

His fingers traced the seams of your underwear, tickling the soft skin on your belly before they looped under. He stripped the flimsy material down your legs, unconsciously tossing them over his brawny shoulder.

He licked his lips and exhaled sharply. “Beautiful.”

Getting to his knees, he planted single kisses from your belly button to the neat patch of hair at your mound and his long fingers opened you to him. It was bold. He didn’t want to make you tense; he wanted you proudly on display as you lost all control for him. He didn’t want you to hide, be shy, just fucking let loose and leave the rest up to him.

Unless you wanted that control, because fuck. Take it.

Knowing how well he kissed would be a problem if he went down on you the same way. He swirled his tongue around your clit, going hard early as you almost jolted off the bed, a quiet squeal of surprise escaping your lips. His large palms pushed you back down as he huffed a quiet laugh at your expense, but you gave in and tried to relax for him. You were so pent-up and overwhelmed, everything already felt so good, and you were so sensitive, you knew if he kept doing exactly what he was, his pretty face would be a goddamn mess.

“Jesus,” you cried, your nails ripping into the tanned skin of his shoulders, and he grunted in reply. He released your hip and trailed his hands across your skin, the pads of his fingers dancing across your inner thigh as he focused his lips on your clit, giving himself the room to fill you with his fingers. One, two - you could hardly be sure, but Rooster was so fucking good at this and fuck.

“How’s my girl?” he rasped, voice deeper than you imagined you’d heard, fingers not ceasing, looking up to view you writhe under his touch.

“Good God, Rooster,” you manage as his fingers scissor inside you.

“How hard are you gonna cum?” he hummed thoughtfully. “You taste so good; I could stay down here for hours.”

“Oh, my God,” you managed, his words swirling around in your head, you were so dizzy, you almost felt you could pass out as his lips left their workspace, kissing between your thighs, his teeth gently leaving their mark as he bit you gently and goose pimples exploded over your skin. He wanted to own you and have his mark on you, and you were in no predicament to argue. “Bradley?”

He gazed up at you, eyes lidded. He rutted against your mattress, seeking his pleasure as his lips enclosed you again. Fuck - he was a sight for fucking sore eyes. He would never be as sexy to you as he was now (lie, lie, bald-faced LIE). It was for you; it was all for you and your body just couldn’t resist.

You had to come, as much as you could have watched him like this forever. The dam burst, coils snapped, and tears sprang from your eyes as you came. And came and came. It was shameful, but he didn’t give you a reprieve. He was going to drag every ounce of pleasure from you and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You tried pushing him away and you could hear his laughter amid the blood pumping in your ears. He let you go, his body skimming up yours, jolts of electricity catching you on more sensitive body parts as he met your lips.

He kissed you wildly as you flung your arms around him, tasting yourself on his tongue. You felt mostly like a bag of bones, but you couldn’t let go of him. “Bradley.”

“That was beautiful. I could watch you come undone like that every day, sweet girl,” his tongue traced yours and he peppered your face and decolletage with sweet kisses, although the abundance of warmth careening through you was still so strong.

“Holy shit,” you pressed him to you, breathless.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“If only you could get a commendation for that…” you managed. He laughed quietly.

“Fuck, you did so well. Do you need a minute?” he asked, resting his cheek on your breast. Your breath was still labouring as you traced his spine and he curved into you. You shook your head as he smiled up at you and you stroked his face. He pressed the side of his face into your palm, and you asked him what he wanted. “I’m in no rush. You decide what’s next.”

You gently moved him off of you and rolled him to his back. Arms splayed above him, he watched you and your next move. He was so hard and hefty, and you were desperate to take him in your mouth. Return the favour, taste every inch of skin, grasp every muscle and ridge, he was there, and he was willing. This man, who you never knew needed you so carnally, was just as desperate for you, too.

“Lift your hips,” you said quietly and pulled down his boxer briefs.

Not a real surprise, Rooster was big, heavy and thick. He wrapped his muscular arms behind his head and watched you debate your next move. There was nothing left for you to hide, it was time to put up or shut up. And Rooster deserved the best.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna,” he reminded you.

“But I do want to - I want you,” you reassured him and he held back his smile. “Is our friendship over?” you asked suddenly.

“Well, yeah,” he laughed quietly. “I just ate you out and made you cum pretty hard, so there’s really no going back from here.”

You covered your mouth with a laugh. “Shut up, this isn’t the time for jokes.”

“This is entirely the time for jokes,” he corrected, his smile a little bit wild. “Don’t take this so seriously. We’re here for fun. A lot of fun,” he corrected himself. “Just relax,” he moved to sit up and sat on his knees before you. He gently took your face in his palms. “We got through the hardest part. From here on in, it’s all about us and how we enjoy ourselves, okay?” he kissed you. “You want to stop?”

You shook your head.

“Words?”

“No. Definitely don’t wanna stop.”

“That’s what I thought,” he kissed you again, resting his forehead against yours, his fingers skimming through your hair. “Get outta your head.”

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you massaged his traps and kissed him again. “You always say the right thing. It’s incredible.”

He pulled you to him tightly, kissing you furiously, his hands pressing into your ass and he sat you on his lap. He adjusted his long legs out in front of him and you were straddling him. “Just kiss me. That’s all,” he encouraged as you took his words and put all the passion he deserved into your kiss.

You adjusted your posture and reached between your bodies. Rooster jerked lightly as you gently took his length into your palm, slowly dragging your palm up and down, thumb swirling around the wet tip. He sighed against your mouth, his kiss falling from your lips as he breathed deep, your touch enough for now for him.

But not for you. You needed him, his words of encouragement spurring you on and you crept to your knees. “Condom?” he asked quietly. “I’m clean,” he raised his hands in gentle protest.

“I’m on the pill,” you replied as he watched your hands keenly and strangled a breath as you sheathed yourself on him, filling yourself with him to the hilt. His breathing was shallow as he muttered how warm and wet you were, how he longed for this, how he needed to see your body move. He let go of you and carefully relaxed into the mattress, not wanting to break your momentum.

Rooster grasped your hips as you found the rhythm you desired and he watched your body, the way your hips circled and drove him into fucking oblivion. “You were made for this,” he encouraged. “I wish you could see what I see.”

You felt like you were levitating. You knew it’d be good, but Rooster Bradshaw’s body was made for you. His strength, his masculinity, his unwavering self-assurance that he wanted your first time together to be something you’d never dream of forgetting.

“Holy fuck,” you managed, as he pressed deep into your belly, his strong hands keeping you sturdy as you rode him. It was supposed to be good, but everything was so much more than you could have ever expected. Bradley Bradshaw had figuratively ruined you for others, after him, there would be naught. Nada.

So, stop thinking about it like there could ever be anyone else, your brain ordered. It’s only getting started, wasn’t that what Bradley has said earlier?

“I don’t know how much more I got left in me, sweet girl. I need to cum,” he told you, his fingers stinging you. It was only fair, you’d cum. If you were lucky, you would again…but he was due to explode. “Do I pull out or…” he asked you, eyes searching yours.

“Cum, baby. Cum,” you told him.

“Okay… but not yet,” he said, his fingers creeping to open you up to him again, you knew the friction was enough to get you off, but he needed this. “Wanna feel you cum on me. Need to…” he hissed, the pad of his thumb writing his name on you as he tried to restrain himself, chewing his lower lip and hissing in desperation. You banked the pleasure on his face, he’d never been sexier to you.

“Jesus,” you kicked your feet, knowing that you were close again. It didn’t take a mathematician to know there were certain factors to get you over the line. Rooster filled you, he knew exactly where to touch and taste you as he raised his hips deep into you, meeting your rolls. “I don’t think I can…” you shrieked. It was all too much. You were too sensitive, too turned on.

“You can,” he told you sternly and you believed him instantly. “Let go, baby. I gotta feel you.”

You leaned towards him in your exhaustion, and he reached for your nipple, sucking, biting, swirling along with his skilled touch, groping roughly and that was it. You were coming, you were coming hard, just like he wanted.

He groaned, eyes drifting closed as he tried to hold on, ride out your orgasm that threatened to tear him in two. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, yes,” Rooster breathed as you tried to keep fucking him through your second orgasm, sloppy and unable to control your movements. Rooster’s hips were like pistons, screaming into you, wanting to steal every piece of you for himself. His strong hands gripped your hips, forcing you on him harshly as he fucked hard into you, coming white hot, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you against him.

A mess of limbs, sweat and bedsheets, he kissed you deeply, your body’s soothing with the others. Rooster dragged his hands down your back soothingly, smoothing your hair.

“Baby, you did so good,” he promised. “So fucking sexy.”

You kissed him quickly, and he gave you a gentle smack on the ass, forcing you to swallow the kiss in surprise. You sighed, absolutely spent and he chuckled lowly. “You good?” you asked him.

He sighed deeply, a dreamy smile on his wet lips. “That was fuckin’ fantastic. Jesus Christ, you can move,” he settled you against his chest, his heart thundering in your ear.

“12.”

He smirked, crudely. “Don’t act so fuckin’ surprised.”

You gently dozed on Rooster’s chest as he tenderly stroked your hair, the other tucked around you firmly, the pads of his fingers drawing small circles on your hip. So worth the wait, having you here like this in his arms. He gently kissed your forehead.

While he was exhausted, he was still wide awake. Buzzing still, flashes of earlier in the night swirled through his mind. Finally witnessing you lose all resolve with him, the sounds you made, your touch on his skin. It was still all very real and incredibly vibrant.

“Why are you still awake?” you mumbled against his chest, adjusting your posture to roll to the pillow. Rooster hummed, following your lead and rolling to press up behind you, his intentions bold. He wrapped his arms around you and left a trail of wet kisses between your shoulder blades. You whimpered lowly and couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at your lips. You were completely at his mercy.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” you replied, biting back a yawn against his chest. “Dozing.” He smiled against your skin, hard and harsh against your ass. “The one per cent,” you muttered, giggling quietly.

“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t have a high sex drive,” he admitted, kissing across your shoulders. “That gonna be a problem for you?”

Looking back at him over your shoulder, you told him, “That will never be a problem for me.”

Pouting, Bradley hitched his body over yours, his hips rolling into yours, delicious friction found, and he kissed you deeply. “Good - because it’s only getting started.”

five.

masterlist.

[qballqueue]

Bloomburrow's story is good

Having just binged the audio version of the Bloomburrow story, I can say with genuine surprise that I actually enjoyed it a lot??? I'm stunned, legitimately, that it actually delivered.

For context, I'm not an avid reader of the Magic story. It had been so reinforced from community consensus--as well as my own experience--that the story for each set was largely lacklustre, existing mostly so people could see what their favourite blorbos were up to instead of actual entertainment, that I hardly bothered reading them and stuck to story recaps on Youtube. It had always seemed to be a better use of my time.

This was echoed by my reading of the Thunder Junction story. I loved the idea of Magic Cowboys, so I actually dove in to read this one as it was being released, and it was meh at best. It was a story where most of the characters were reappearing ones instead of new, almost none of whom felt they had any reason or motivation for wanting to be there. And the climax largely centred on a cliffhanger, which left a lot of narrative tension feeling unresolved.

(For the record, absolutely no shade thrown towards author of the OTJ story articles, Akemi Dawn Bowman. I found the actually writing to be enjoyable, and I'm 80% sure most of my issues with the narrative were mandated to be there)

I went into Bloomburrow expecting more of the same, honestly. I only really started it because I needed something to listen to, but, like, holy shit. We have a mostly original cast that's simple but fun. We have a plot that's almost entirely self-contained, with no larger narrative implications so it's just allowed to be itself. We actually only have one reappearing character who joins in on the current story instead of taking it over. It's just a short, pleasant ride you can finish in an afternoon.

I do have some issues. For starters, the prophecy that happens at the end felt like a shoe-horned in way to remind people that there's supposed to be an over-arching plot. I do prefer it to the 'something interesting is going to happen soon, we promise' form of storytelling longer narratives often fall prey to, which MtG's story often does, but I would just as soon do without an over-arching story at all if I'm being honest.

The pacing also felt a bit rushed. By the time we get to chapter five, it feels like we're only at the middle of the story, but then the antagonist's introduction, their explanation, a couple climatic battles, and the ending happen all at once. It felt like I had skipped something, but this feels more like an issue with WotC only allowing five chapters per set and one set per plane.

Speaking of which, if the quality of the Bloomburrow story is doing anything, it's highlighting how shitty it is that each plane only gets one set worth of story before we have to leave again. I liked the story, so it's a shame that as soon as the set arrives it'll be gone for a while; WotC almost assuredly has the next year-or-so's worth of sets planned out already, so if there ever is more Bloomburrow story it'll be way in the future, and not because someone decided to put faith in it--it'll be because it proved profitable enough for a revisit.

So, yeah. You know the drill: artistic integrity good, capitalism bad, etc., etc.. But I will say that I think these story articles are worth a look. Kudos to the author, Valerie Valdes, and the entire story team.

[normal-sea-urchin]

Casey Jones Fucking Dies: Chapter 8

AND IT IS DONE! chapter eight that is. uh, @achilles-invulnerable-heel @veritas-dolos @clanofjones @theosb0rnway @builtlikeastickofcelery @samuel-yippee @less-depresso-more-espresso ok i think that covers all the tags. uhhhh, but anyways this chapter may have a slightly different vibe as it was written from casey's pov. anyways here ya go pookies, enjoy!

Yes. Yesss.

That stupid turtle actually fell for it. Casey couldn't believe Raph thought he would actually forgive him. Yet here he was, in the turtle's body, glaring down Raph's spirit, which was now trapped in the mirror. 

"Sorry, but this body's taken." he hissed, giving the turtle's ghost a toothy grin. The look of fear in his face was all too good. "Anyways, I have places to be. Later, Raph." Casey taunted, putting emphasis on the mutant's name.

Casey took a step towards the door, only to stumble and put his hand on the counter for balance. Huh. It had uh, been a while since Casey had needed to actually walk around. not to mention that he was now a turtle. Kind of. A mutant turtle. Close enough. Either way, being in this body might take a while to completely get used to. 

But casey didn't exactly have tons of time. Possession wasn't easy, and he didn't exactly have the practice. So whether or not Casey knew how to even walk in this body, he needed to. Just gotta get to my house, he thought to himself. 

He took a step, and another, and placed his hand on the door knob. He turned to face Raph's ghost in the mirror one last time. He gave one last, toothless grin; he blinked his eyes to wash out the ghostly green glow, now replacing it with the turtle's striking green eyes. He blew a taunting kiss towards the horrified face in the mirror before swinging the door open and waltzing out of the bathroom. 

Casey had been watching Raph and how he acted around his brothers and father since he became a ghost; meaning it wasn't very hard to imitate how he acted, at least until he got out of the lair. Casey tried to walk over to the turnstiles (which he had learned was the entrance and also the exit) but was stopped by one of the turtles.

"Yo Raph, where are you going dude?" Dammit. Casey slowly turned a bit to see which turtle was talking to him. It was the orange one, with the blue eyes. What was his name again? Marco? No no no. Uhh, Miguel? Mikey? Mikey! It was Mikey. 

"Uh, just going on patrol, I'll be back later." he lied. Ugh, he sounded like Raph. He sounded like the guy who killed him. It felt weird. To be honest the entire 'being in the body of a five foot tall mutant turtle' thing was weird. Y'know what, that would explain why he sounded like him.

"Hmm, okay dude." Casey turned back around and sped-walked over to the turnstiles as inconspicuously as he could. Casey turned the corner out of the lair and as soon as he was sure he was out of earshot, he started booking it. 

He didn't really have a reason why. I mean, he wanted to see his sister and his room, but he didn't really have any reason to rush. but it felt nice. It felt good to run. It felt great to do anything. Even though the smell of the New York sewers was the worst thing imaginable, Casey was glad he could smell at all. 

After a while, Casey reached a sewer plate. He couldn't wait to see his room again. He rushed up the sewer ladder and shoved the sewer plate up and out of the way. Here he was. Back on the surface. Casey took a deep breath in. 

The sound of car horns and people yelling and even just people's shoes clicking against the pavement brought such a comfort to Casey. It felt amazing. God, he had missed this. It took Casey a moment to remember what exactly he came up here for. Right, his room. Gotta get to his apartment. 

"AAAAAH! MONSTER!" a feminine voice from behind Casey yelled. He whipped around to sees some blonde chick yelling and pointing at him. Shit. He totally forgot he was in Raph's body.

Casey quickly scaled the nearest fire escape. About halfway up, he noticed that the woman had ran away; so he continued his climb, peaking into the windows of the apartment complex as he did. As much as Casey hates the whole normal life thing, he kinda missed the mundanity of life. 

Y'know, waking up in an unmade bed, cooking breakfast for himself and his sister, riding his bike to school after dropping his little sister off, going to the convenience store after school for a snack, that kinda thing. And even the occasional hockey game or practice, or maybe his little sister needed help with her homework. Casey missed it. 

He reached the roof of the building and turned around, looking for a store or restaurant that he would recognize. He knew New York like the back of his hand; if he could just see how close the park or something was, he could easily get home. Aha! The old theater that Casey went to like, all the time. That meant he was about seven blocks away from his apartment.

He turned to face the direction his apartment building was in and mentally charted out a route of buildings to hop across. Shouldn't take too long. Casey walked over to the edge of the building, looking at the distance between this one and the next. He took a few steps back before sprinting towards and leaping towards the next building.

Casey landed with a tumble near the middle of the building. He did not expect to jump that great a distance, which left him a little shocked. But he shook it off with ease, of course. He really needed to get used to the whole mutant turtle thing if he was going to posses Raph more often, which he planned on doing. 

Either way, he began to fade into a cycle of leaping from building to building for a few blocks until his apartment complex was in sight. Casey stopped for a moment, taking a moment to catch his breath. God he missed the burning in his lungs when he ran. He missed the wind blowing through his hair, which was still something he missed considering Raph was bald... 

Anyways, he continued towards to his apartment. Upon reaching the top of it, Casey started rushing down the fire escape to his room. He could barely contain his excitement. He threw the window open and leaped into the room, feeling the carpet underneath the turtle's feet (which felt like, really big to Casey). 

Casey waltzed over to his bed before letting himself fall face first into his pillow. He inhaled deeply before rolling over onto the turtle's shell. Man, he missed his room. His eyes shot over to his desk, where his face paint was.

Hmm.

Face paint. Casey had an idea. He walked over to the desk and sat in the old, torn chair  in front of it. He tried his best to get comfortable, although Raph's shell made it a bit hard. After deciding that this was as comfortable as he could get in this body, he turned his attention to the desk.

...

His homework was in the exact same place he left it. He had blown off finishing it in favor for vigilante-ing...

Whatever. Casey pushed it aside. Not like Mrs. Thomson's math class mattered anymore. Casey reached for his black and white face paint, hoping to push those thoughts away. He turned the small mirror on his desk towards him, turning it downwards to fit his now much shorter height.

"This is for FUCKING killing me freak face!" Casey remarked, pointing at the turtle's face in the mirror. 

"GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING BODY!" Raph screamed back from his mirror prison; making Casey flinch back. He was not expecting a response. 

"Mmm, no. You could some time for reflection. Get it?" Casey mocked. Raph face morphed into a scowl before fading away, leaving Casey alone. Now then, the face paint.

Casey tugged the red mask off the turtle's head. He reached for a brush before dipping it into the white face paint. He smudged the paint all over the turtle's ugly mug. After two coats, the turtle's green skin was no longer visible. Casey grabbed a second, smaller brush for the black paint and went to town. 

It felt good. Defacing Raph. The man who killed him so ruthlessly. The man who had taken Casey from his sister, and from April, and from hockey, and from his life...

Whatever.

After a little while, Casey had finished. The black accents had taken only one layer, cause of how dark it was. And thus, it was done. The turtle had now donned totally metal skull face paint. Casey looked in the mirror, admiring his handiwork. Just one thing was missing. Casey reached into the left drawer of the desk and pulled out one of his spare bandanas. He tied it around his forehead and leaned back into the chair. Y'know the bandana really pulled the whole thing together. 

While staring at his new reflection, Casey thought back to his life before. Before his death. Before, when he had his own body, and didn't have to possess a mutant turtle. He regrets ever taking it for granted. Man, this was bumming him out. 

Casey's eyes began to wander around the room before landing on his hockey gear sticking out of his bag. Hmm. Casey walked over to the bag and crouched down beside it. He began to rummage through the contents, finding hockey pucks, spray paint bottles, and some other junk. Maybe he could take it with him, sneak it into the turtles's lair, so that he could throw up some graffiti or something next time he possessed Raph. He decided it best to at least take it with him, even if he didn't put it in the lair. He threw a few more things in: his face paint, some old clothes that just might fit over the turtle's body, that kinda stuff. As he was hunched over, he heard a voice erupt from behind him.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Casey whipped around to see his little sister, Angel, staring at him with wide eyes. 

Oh no. Ooooooh no. Angel couldn't see Casey. She couldn't see Casey looking like... this whole situation! He threw the bag onto his shoulder in a panic and quickly fled the scene. He ran up the fire escape, paying no attention to his sister's "HEY! GET BACK HERE!" 

He made it up to the roof before repeatedly sprinting and leaping over to a rooftop about a block down. He took a moment to breathe, turning and looking back towards his room; looking back towards his sister. All this time, he had missed her, so much. But now, after having seen her, he wishes he hadn't. The way she reacted, the way she screamed... Casey felt like a monster. 

And it was all Raph's fault.

                _______________________

The clinking of the spray paint cans in Casey's bag echoed through the abandoned subway tunnel. He was now on his way back from his apartment to the turtle's lair. The thoughts about how his sister reacted to seeing him still haunted his mind. 

Man, fuck all of this. Casey didn't care enough to hide the bag. He didn't care enough to try and wipe off the face paint he did. He didn't care enough to pay any mind to Raph's voice echoing in his mind, demanding his body back. 

As he made it closer to the lair, the sound of the other turtles became clearer. A grin began to crawl onto Casey's face the closer he got. This was gonna be good. 

He turned the corner to face the turtles and April with an unnerving grin on his face. The turtles all seemed to be watching some dumb cartoon show while April was on her computer. Casey dropped the bag to the ground, but still holding the strap in his hand. He stood, waiting for a response or even a reaction, still grinning.

The turtles were staring at who they thought was they're brother with looks of confusion. But April, April was glaring at Casey, her eyes wide, yet angry.

"Raph... Where did you get that bandana? And that bag?" she interrogated, dragging a finger up to point at Casey's bag. The grin on Casey's face cracked into an eerie smile.

"Oh, y'know. Stole it from this guy I killed." he enthusiastically replied. The room fell silent. Dead silent. 

"...What?" April muttered slowly. 

"Yeah!" Casey remarked, "I think you knew him, his name was Casey. Casey Jones." 

And with that, Raph fell to the floor. Unconscious, but now in control of his body.

[mischiefmaker615]

President’s Theory

Rating: R

Requester: eleniblue 

Summary: an attempt to escape the president

‘’some president! All you have is, what?? 10 men and a small patch of grass to rule!’’ you shouted as your arms began to get sore from the grip two of the men had on each arm.

They were the only ones keeping you from lunging at the bastard who had somehow followed you to your own underground hideout, stormed in and was now having his men ransack the place as Loki- president to be exact- turned from the table he loomed over to pierce his eyes at you.

‘’your flirting could use a bit of work love, but you intrigue me all the same.’’ He smirked as he tossed the stack of papers aside from his hand and stalked towards you.

His pace was dangerously slow and his calm demeanor meant he was in no rush for anything, making your body tense. If he was really in a hurry, you might have been dead already or tortured from.. whatever it is that he wanted; he still hasn’t answered any of your questions since he got here, making your patience run thin as you glared at him.

‘’are you finally going to tell me what the hell you want here??’’

Loki merely laughed, tilting his head back in doing so that made the horns on his helmet point straight up, almost giving the illusion that they were coming straight out of his skull if it hadn’t been the color of gold before his blue orbs shot through your own. ‘’now why waste my time doing that when you most likely wouldn’t tell me? It’s much easier just to look for it.’’

‘’could you do it without trashing the place?’’ you hiss, rage piercing through you as your eyes glanced at the men to the side that merely tossed aside this and that. ‘’whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it here.’’

‘’and how is it that you know what I’m trying to find dear one?’’ he purred, his pace stopping just in front of you where your shoes barely touched his own. His gaze began to undress you alone, making you want to squirm and for some reason, shut your legs as you tilted your head up slightly to look at him.

‘’you would have found it already by the mess you’ve made.’’

‘’it seems you’ve been here for quite awhile considering how valued this place of yours is, which means you should be able to tell me if you’ve encountered others in this place, this.. realm of some sort.’’ He wasn’t so much asking as he was ordering, and your eyes looked at him carefully as his men gripped your arms tighter as soon as they felt you tense.

‘’anyone else trapped in this place probably has died already from-‘’

‘’not if you’ve shown them shelter.’’ He cut your words short and you remained silent, giving him the reaction he was looking for that earned you another smirk from him. ‘’that’s what I thought darling. You see,’’ he started and began pacing in circles around you, his eyes eyeing you hungrily as his men kept you still. ‘’we found you- at a distance of course. You were with a group of Loki’s, from what we could make out. By the time we caught up to you, they were gone and you were hurrying yourself back to this place.’’ His pace stopped right in front of you and he leaned down, his horns framing your face as you glared back into his eyes stubbornly.

‘’which makes me come to the theory that you must have led them to shelter before you returned back to your own here.’’

‘’..that’s some theory.’’ You said dryly and he rose a hand to grip your jaw, silencing you.

‘’and considering how long my men are taking on trying to find any evidence on navigating this place- whether to other people or even other places, my guess is that the ‘map’ must. Be. You.’’

Your body remained still, doing your best not to react to show him any sign that he was right, but the way his eyes stared into yours, those gorgeous blue orbs that almost seems to make you want to spill your guts willingly, made you look away and that’s then you knew, he had you.

‘’I am correct then.’’ He smirked and straightened, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, his body relaxing as his men seemed to slow what they were doing once they knew they didn’t have to search anymore. ‘’oh my dear, you must have been here for a very long time to have memorized a place like this.. to know where to hide, when to hide and perhaps.. maybe some hints on escaping here?’’

Your eyes returned to his in a glare. ‘’fuck you-‘’

Your words were cut short with a hand to your throat, your body struggling for breath as his eyes merely looked at you in a calm demeanor. ‘’quite the offer darling,’’ his eyes moved to his men and he nodded his head to the side. ‘’leave us.’’

By the other, his men let you go- not giving you an opportunity to escape anyway with a hand at your neck, and followed the others where they left outside and closed the hatch; leaving you both alone. Yet even by their absence, Loki’s hand still kept you in his grip, only giving you enough air to breath but not enough to fully speak.

‘’even if there are merely hints of escaping, it could be enough where perhaps we both could figure out how to escape this place.. and my leadership can spread forth. Id even be willing to promise a fair position for yourself for your help.’’ He smiled and looked far off thoughtfully, ignoring your clawing at his wrist. ‘’finding the others is useless now, you are much more valuable with far more information than all those variant duplicates put together. Hell- I don’t even need any of those men outside at this rate, you’ve helped me immensely already and all I had to do what find you. It’s a shame you’ve made this all so easy too’’ he mocked and finally released your neck, making you stumble back as you took in generous amounts of air before looking at him.

‘’and what makes you think I’m going to help you-‘’

‘’I can make death much more painful than that creature out there love.’’ He smirked, his threat solid and terrifyingly calm as he took a step towards you and placed a hand under your chin, making you flinch as if he would have grabbed your neck again but to your surprise, his eyes were almost.. loving.

‘’oh darling.. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to find you as a woman..’’

His words were enough to finally show your fear, hoping he didn’t mean what he sounded like he was saying as your body tensed once again but didn’t dare move. There had to be a way to get away from this sick bastard and your mind ran fast for any ideas. Loki however seemed to get off on the fear you bestowed as his hand slowly caressed your neck to your collarbone, moving his body closer to yours as he moved both hands to your hips, thumbs rubbing in slow circles.

Your eyes did their best to remain on his, trying to rid of any expression as your brain reminded you that there was a hidden dagger just by the headboard of your bed. If you could get there, you could at least wound him enough to get away, as well as fend off the others just outside the shelter door before you would make your escape. The thing is, you’d have to do something you didn’t exactly want to do and killing someone sounded a whole lot easier than what your situation was facing; and with that, you reached a hand up and caressed his cheek.

The sudden action made Loki pause his hands that had just been traveling up your sides so his face could look at yours. His eyes analyzed you for a moment as you turned his look in a lustful gaze and even if there was a small hint of it looking fake, he was cocky enough to just go with it and be strong enough to counter anything you might try to pull- which was something you prayed wouldn’t happen.

You moved your other hand up his chest, gripping his tie as you slowly pulled it from his best before loosening it by his neck, your slender fingers brushing against his skin that made him tilt his chin up ever so slightly. All the while you both never broke eye contact as Loki’s hands moved down your sides, to your waist until they gripped the ends of your shirt. Before your heart beat had a chance to quicken, it was up and off.

The cold temperature hit your skin and your shiver didn’t go unnoticed by Loki who smirked and took the rest of his tie and removed it while his eyed scanned your body that only was covered now by a prayer, your bra and your pants.

‘’ohhh darling, you look absolutely delicious..’’ he purred and reached out, gripping your pants and pulled you towards him where his other hand wrapped around to rest on the small of your back before his lips crashed onto yours.

You nearly jumped by the action, eyes widening as he kissed you with passion, pushing his tongue into your mouth with very little permission before hand before he started to massage your tongue with his. Your hands rested against his chest, your muscles tensing as you stopped yourself from shoving him away, let alone lashing out before you gripped his jacket, pushing it down off his shoulders where he only released you to let it fall to the ground before they gripped your hips again.

It was getting a little hard to breath as you ran your hands through his hair, doing your best to work around his horns as he seemed to want to keep them on by the way he gripped your hips harder whenever you neared them. Yet what you really noticed was the slow growing wetness that appeared between your legs and your stomach seemed to drop.

There was no way in hell you were getting aroused by this man.. this man who ransacked your home, threatened and was holding you hostage! No no- focus.. you decided to skip any of the slow things that would lead up to getting over to the bed, figuring you needed to get over there ‘now’ so you pulled back for air. The space between you both was to much for Loki and he moved his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin where you almost forgot how to speak for a moment before you squeaked.

‘’b-bed..’’

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he smirked and looked you over with almost a mocking expression. ‘’eager aren’t we my little minx’’

‘’as you can figure out, it’s b-been quite a while,’’ you did your best to flirt back, wanting to keep him playing along as you gripped his shoulders firmly and started walking him backwards towards the bed.

His hands ran across your hips and kneaded your ass, earning an approving moan from his lips as he attacked your neck. A shiver ran down your spine, trying to tell yourself it didn’t feel good as you did your best to hurry him along to get this all over with. Once the back of his knees found the bed behind him, he lowered himself down onto it, his lips kissing down your body before his teeth gripped the middle of your bra and his eyes looked up at you hungry and dangerously.

You looked down at him and gulped, knowing what he wanted as you moved your shaky hands off his shoulders and behind you. The only way you weren’t going to get even close to this damn headboard was just playing along until he scooted back. So with that, you unclasped your bra and it was lost to the side.

A pleasant breath left Loki’s lips as he gazed at your perfect globes before he ran his hands up to cup them and you gasped at his touch. He smirked up at you smugly before he kneaded them both, rubbing and squeezing before a hand moved to your ass and pushed you more forward, your hands at his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall on top of him before he captured one in his mouth.

A gasp left your mouth as his tongue flicked and swirled around your hardening nipple, your fingers gripping onto him as you felt more of a pool between your legs even more so as he switched to your other mound. Your limbs began to ache as you felt his fingers move and unbuttoned your pants, shoving them down before taking hold of your legs to come forward and swaddle him. having not much of a choice, you sat down on his lap, facing him as he pulled you more forward to continue sucking at your breasts.

To your dismay, you shivered in pleasure, your eyes lifting and fluttering as you tried taking in a proper breath in. the way he moaned brought you to the realization that you were even grinding against his bulge, and the mere growing size of it made you even more aware as you glanced down and bit your lip. This couldn’t happen- no no no you needed to get to your-

‘’I know it’s a bit to big darling but I promise I’ll make it happen..’’ he purred and nipped your collar bone, guaranteeing a mark to show up later and your thought fluttered like scattering butterflies as you tried thinking clearly.

Instead, you nodded your head a bit behind him and used your eyes to tell him to scoot up to the headboard. He seemed to smirk and understand but before you could register, he gripped your ass and lifted you, turning you both before he gently tossed you up onto the bed, intending to be the one on top. Despite being tossed onto the mattress, you praised god you landed by the headboard and your heart began to race. You being the one closest rather than both of you made it even better than your original anticipated plan.

Glancing over at him, him drank you in lustfully as he began unbuttoning his vest. You figured his eyes weren’t going to leave you anytime soon so your time to act was now! Flipping over quickly onto your hands and knees, you lunged forward, arm reaching out to where your knife lay wedged in the stone wall before you suddenly felt someone grab your hips and yank you back on the mattress.

‘’don’t think I didn’t see that earlier darling, but we’re still doing this.’’ He growled in your ear as he held you against his chest with a firm hand on your throat to keep you there.

Your hand clawed at his wrist as you began to struggle, your back feeling that he had somehow rid of his vest and his undershirt had been unbuttoned to reveal his bare chest. ‘’fuck you!’’ you yelled and felt him chuckle behind you as he pushed your head down into the mattress by your hair.

‘’with pleasure darling, but I’d currently like to be the one fucking you’’ he smirked, keeping you down as he used his other hand to raise your lower end so you were in a doggy style position. You heard him moan at the mere site of your back arch and heard him unbuckle his belt.

‘’don’t think for one second I’d ever help you in your plans!’’ you threatened, a weak blow and quite useless as you fought hard to think clearly while a hand stayed on your back to keep you down while the other snapped your panties off and tossed them, making your whole body jerk to try to get away but his god strength made it impossible.

‘’maybe, maybe not. But lets focus on one step at a time my dear. But just know, I always get what I want..’’ he purred and you held your breath as you felt the tip of his cock line up with your entrance.

‘’p-please..’’ you begged, squeezing your eyes shut as you shivered and heard him chuckle, his hands gripping your hips now.

‘’with pleasure darling.’’ And with that, slowly in one swift motion, slid himself all the way to the hilt.

You threw your head back and Loki kept a hand on your back to prevent you from raising up as your fingers gripped the sheets. ‘’t-to big!’’ you gasped, your face in pain as you felt him slide back to the tip and a hand reached between your legs, making your eyes open in pure panic and wonder.

‘’I know darling I know, but you take me so well how could I possibly stop now?’’ he cooed and his fingers rubbed and stroked your clit, causing pleasurable shocks through your body, you almost didn’t realize he thrust back into you until you lurched forward.

‘’f-fuck..’’ you couldn’t help but moan, gripping the sheets tighter as he used your clit as a distraction from the pain as he began thrusting into you in a repetitive slow pace.

What was to happen now? Getting fucked by the president of Loki’s with almost zero chance of escaping and later on he’d somehow force you to help him figure out how to get out of this realm? That sounded like the most likely plan without a clear way of figuring out how to get past him and his men without your weapons. Let alone trying to think of a plan in general as he quickened his circles against your clit while his other hand gave your ass a slap here and there before continuing his grip on your hip.

‘’god at this rate I might never wish to leave..’’ he moaned out as he thrust his hips forward, pounding into you as you fluttered your eyes, half registering his words as the pleasurable sensation grew in your stomach and groin.

‘’p-please..’’ you moan as he gives your ass another hard smack, ripping out another moan from your lips as you try to figure out if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

‘’you’re almost there darling, cum for me’’ he breathed as he thrust faster and harder while he gave your clit no mercy before your vision began seeing stars and you got pushed over the edge.

‘’LOKIII’’ you scream his name, becoming a moaning mess as his thrusts became sloppy before he to found his release, gripping your hips hard as he drove himself deep into your core until every last drop was yours.

‘’fuck..’’ he groaned, panting as he slowly pulls out of you and you lay on your side, panting as he joins you to catch his breath.

You were to fucked out to do anything else, weakly looking everywhere at the mess they had made and took a deep breath. There had to be something you could do.. the feeling of a hard erection poking at your entrance was enough to snap you out of your thoughts though and could practically feel Loki smirking behind you.

‘’now, I believe you’ll tell me everything I need to know..’’

~~~

You try yanking the hand that covered your mouth as you struggled in the variant’s arms. The wind whipped your hair around as you reached out a hand to the circled crowd, desperately trying to prevent the events from unfolding as you were kept a good distance away before you heard the door open and Loki smirked from the middle.

‘’ah, hello.. which one of us are you?’’

[salaapaoo]

Hii! *Waves from the corner* 😊

This came to me like 2 seconds ago and I decided I'd share with you

what if someone tried to hurt one of Cale's kids mid battle and the offender starts hearing boss music and looks to the side to see Cale on the other side of the field gunning it towards them with a face that just screams 'If you do not take 5 steps back right this second I will kick your head off'

Lmao

hello!!! omg,,, ty for the image kshgksfhj

just???

surrounded by the sharp clanging of metal and the sickening sounds of the fallen, Cale's eyes sweep across the battlefield. To those around him, he looks nonchalant. With an air that practically radiates confidence in their plans and actions, Cale stands tall, observing the way everything played out. They never chastised the man for standing at the back, if anything, everyone wanted him to stand behind. Cale Henituse was a valuable treasure to their kingdom, but to them, he was fragile. They saw him as a persevering man, who's pulled off countless unbelievable feats of strength, but at the same time... he was weak. They've seen him summon beautiful, crackling thunderbolts of rose gold and they've seen him bathed in the silver light of the holy shield, but they've also seen the gruesome merlot red that would dribble from his lips when he strained himself.

Cale Henituse can stay in the back. That's what they planned for, and the man agreed.

So why?? Why is he sprinting out into the midst of battle with such a face?

Their commander was known for his nonchalance, for his carefully blank looks. What happened for such ire to be painted across his handsome features?

-

Everything had been going well. There wasn't a reason to step in yet because everything was following the plan. Their side was overwhelming the other side and the enemies were starting to turn tail to retreat.

But then he saw it. Some sick piece of shit was sneaking up behind Ohn and Hong. He could vaguely hear Raon's angry shouting in his mind, but Cale paid him no mind, summoning the sound of the wind to his feet to make it there faster.

The man felt a sharp tremor course through him and paused in his advances to look around.

"HOLY SH--"

The man could practically hear the horns blaring, woodwind instruments working towards the cresendo of some boss fight sound track his mind was feeding him. His eyes met the frenzied ones of the other side's commander, tracking the words that the red head was mouthing.

you have two seconds to back the fuck off of my kids.

Taking two steps back, he turned to run away, but it was too late.

Cale Henituse's expensive shoe made contact with his jaw, the speed from the sound of the wind adding to his misery, and knocking him out almost immediately.

(Cale suppresses a shiver. Elsewhere, a crazy bastard was muttering something about him being a one hit legend).

"You looked as strong as two of my toes combined, human!!" Raon blurts out, his eyes wide and sparkling in awe.

Tapping the toe of his shoe against the ground, Cale reached out to wipe the grime from the kitten's faces, looking them over for any injuries. He was pleased to find that they weren't hurt at all.

"Why aren't you with Ron?" He asked, reaching out to pat Raon as well.

"Grandpa Ron said to stay back a bit!" Hong replied, completely unaware of the danger that had been lurking behind him.

Don't get him wrong, Cale knew that his kids were insanely strong, but... how could he not worry about them or come running when he saw someone trying to hurt him?

[killpilled]

it didn't feel like a studio mandate to me the problem is that they kinda wrote themselves into a corner by having the show center on their relationship and timeline vise they don't interact until rhaenyra takes kl but narratively they kinda need to interact (although imo it would have been more powerful to have them not interact for a season and have them meet in kl after rhaenyra takes it but whatever...) if i'm being perfectly honest most of the rhaenicent stuff this season felt shoehorned in and a bit on the nose

i mean i don't know if it was a studio mandate, it just feels like the narratively less bold choice to me and since alicent and rhaenyra feature so heavily in the marketing, i could imagine that some guy gave a note for an early draft that said they had to meet at least once.

but it absolutely does feel shoe-horned in and honestly, i don't think they've even written themselves into a corner. all of season 1 was those two interacting, so i think exploring other character dynamics would have been (and was) very interesting (see rhaenyra/jace, corlys/alyn, alicent/criston). they haven't even been apart for very long, i think viserys' death was canonically only weeks ago? rhaenyra has plenty of reason to not want to talk to alicent and vice versa after blood & cheese.

i think it is bold to have alicent realize that she started a war bc of a *misunderstanding* but she didn't need rhaenyra for that realization. she has the dagger after all. and giving aegon up... that's the meeting that probably makes the most sense narratively? but it feels very rushed. as you said, i think a reunion after the fall of king's landing would have been narratively stronger and made more sense in universe.

also this whole insistence on women being more peaceful, more sensitive and better communicators is also a detriment to the show bc both their agency and motivations always hinge on Not Doing Something

[thatonegeekygirl]

hi i love u

here's the story where Erch and Krit meet Seki

TAPROOT’S BAR AND RESTAURANT

SEKI

         “Hey! Get back here!” Seki had been so careless. She ducked and weaved through the crowd, getting farther and farther ahead of the dwarves chasing her, but her distinctly elven appearance made her stick out like a sore thumb, even in Ongavho; platinum hair was far less common than horns or scales here. Seki was hopeful that her small stature was enough to keep her away from her pursuers, but they’d know it was her if they saw her in Ongavho ever again. Judging by the weight of the wallet in her coat, they’d be pretty persistent. She’d only been in Ongavho for what, three months? She’d have to move again. Seki ducked under a bench. Thank the Court for elven flexibility.

         Or perhaps curse them for exiling her in the first place.

         She shook her head as if it would erase the thought from her brain. This was not the time to be bitter about rivalries between centaurs and elves. This was the time to be bitter about the fact that her lungs were burning, and she really should have gone for that old nāga with the stump for a tail, no matter how bad she felt for her. Dwarves were all about honor, and they’d hunt her until she returned the wallet and then some; she’d known that. Seki pressed herself to the wall behind a dumpster to catch her breath, but she froze when she saw one of the dwarves approaching from the other end of the alleyway.

         “There you are! Stuck up little twerp; what, having everything in the elven Court wasn’t enough for you? You had to come down here and steal from us in person?” Seki bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing out that the Court had stopped ordering taxes from the dwarven territories when they declared independence; she ignored the fact that she had been exiled for approximately fifty years; that would not make this better. She took a step back, ready to bolt, but then she heard a voice behind her.

         “Oh, you found her.”

         She backed up against a wall, but then in a blessed moment, her hand found a doorknob as it brushed against the old, dirty stone. She thanked the universe for everything as she turned it and found it to be unlocked. The dwarves started to close in on her, and Seki took one last deep breath before she was rushing through the door and diving to hide under a booth labeled ‘reserved’ in a surprisingly empty bar. She curled her body behind the table and pulled her hood up to stop her hair from catching the light as the dwarves burst in.

         “Of course that elf would hide out in here.” Seki grimaced at the way the dwarf made her race sound like an insult, but she had no idea what he was talking about. Here? She hadn’t chosen this place for any reason other than the fact that the doorknob was in her hand when she was cornered. “TAPROOT!” She nearly jumped out of her skin as the dwarf bellowed.

         “Coming-!” Seki watched as someone walked right by the table, unfamiliarly grey legs poking out of a long, dark blue dress. Instead of shoes, neat black talons tap-tap-tapped on the wood floor. She didn’t try to take a closer look, too afraid of being caught. “Oh. Hello and welcome to Taproot’s,” a new voice said, sounding noticeably disappointed and bored.

         “Where is she?” One dwarf gritted out.

         “…Who?”

         “The little elven thief that just ran in here! Where is she?”

         “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was in the kitchen. You’re welcome to check if you’d like.” The words were said flatly, with an edge of annoyance. Seki inhaled sharply but silently, knowing that if the dwarves had enough sense to check, she’d be found immediately.

         Luckily for her, emotions tended to cloud one’s sense of reason.

         “I know you’re hiding her, goblin! I’ll get the Guardian!” Seki would probably have enough time to get out between the vigilante getting here and the dwarves leaving. But goblin… that was interesting. Seki had never met a goblin before, but the Goblo-Dwarven Wars clearly didn’t end the animosity between the two races.

         “Please do.” Seki could feel her shoulders slump as the dwarves stormed out of the bar. Said bar- Taproot’s?- went quiet, the only sounds being the occasional clink of glasses and talons tapping against the floor. She bent her head to look up at the goblin so she could make her escape, but she was immediately distracted by the wide, pointed ears of the goblin- specifically, the shiny pins shoved through the lobes. Seki felt her hand come up to her ear. It wasn’t as if she had never seen a piercing before; plenty of the questers had them, and often several, but never in ears so similar to her own.

         Her mistake was made obvious to her as a large hand wrapped around her upper arm and dragged her out from under the table. Her coat hung to one side obviously, and another hand easily took the wallet out of her pocket without even brushing her side.

         “Here you go, gentlemen. You are free to leave; she will be dealt with.” Seki huffed. One dwarf leered at her as the other caught the wallet. Her spine was now rigid, and she was extremely aware of the hand still on her arm and the breathing behind her. The dwarfs left yet again, and she was quickly spun around to meet the eyes of the man.

         They were brown. Not the light, glowing brown of a hamadryad, nor the dark reddish-brown of an older demon. And they certainly weren’t black. They were a medium, plain brown, one that was rarer here. He was wearing a black mask, so she couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t seem to have any facial mutations, and his jaw was set in a way that didn’t suggest unusually shaped teeth. His hair was brown too, and his skin was tanned in a way that seemed natural instead of magic-enhanced. Her hand came down to feel his gloved grip on her arm, and he tightened it, confirming to her that he was lacking talons. His ears were distinctly rounded, and he was only taller than her by about a head or so. Seki didn’t want to assume, but…

         “You’re human,” she blurted. His eyes narrowed at her, and she internally cheered at the confirmation that was quite clearly unintentional on his part. “The Guardian of Ongavho is a human.” Realistically, it made sense. Humans were often a particular brand of reckless and selfless, and while dwarves and elves and centaurs and lycans were all fighter races, humans were often adrenaline junkies, and this type of technically-illegal-but-morally-upstanding sort of occupation fit a human well. However. Humans were rare in their realm and often considered fragile, which was quite obviously untrue in the Guardian’s case.

         “Krit, I’ll take her to the Pack,” he said instead of addressing her claim directly. Seki felt herself stiffen and look over to the goblin, who was apparently named Krit. While this was a questing town, and being near the dwarven territories influenced Ongavho quite a bit, it was technically run by the Pack, a group of female lycans who had originally been on the lower rungs of other lycan packs. Due to their tenuous leadership, they’d give her a harsher punishment than she deserved to stay on the dwarves’ good side. Krit met her eyes and nodded once before speaking.

         “No, Erch.” The Guardian- Erch- dropped her arm in shock and she was immediately slipping away, only to be stopped by a much gentler hand on her shoulder. “Do you like stuffed mushrooms?”

         Seki whipped around and stared at the goblin. She could see that Krit was old, could trace it through the lines on their face and the way their skin was blotched with darker grey and freckled with white, but she also knew the goblin couldn’t be old enough to forget that Seki was a thief. Even if they did let her go out of pity for an exiled young elf with no future, there was no reason to offer any hospitality to an intruder.

         “I can’t pay,” she blurted.

         “That wasn’t the question.” Seki didn’t trust her voice enough to let it do the talking; she nodded, and Krit smiled, showing off teeth so white it was almost unnatural. “Good. Why don’t you sit down somewhere?”

         “Hold on, Krit, you can’t just-” Krit silenced Erch with a look. He stood awkwardly, shifting his weight from side to side as Seki sat down in a rounded booth, scooting all way in so she would be shielded by the table but could easily slip under it if the time called for an escape. Krit eyed Erch for a long pause before slipping through a curtain of shiny rocks and beads and metal. There were more paperclips and safety pins on it than Seki had seen in her life, and she briefly wondered if Erch had been the one to give them the human devices. That thought was interrupted when the man in question sat down next to her.

         “I need a drink,” he mumbled as Krit walked out with a steaming plate of stuffed mushrooms. Seki’s stomach growled eagerly, and she felt her cheeks flush rose gold in her embarrassment.

         “Need I remind you that your twenty-first birthday is next month?” Did this bar operate according to human customs? She hadn’t even voiced the question before Krit was shaking their head. “And none for you either; you are certainly not one-thousand-six-hundred-ninety years old.” Seki ducked her head and dug in. She hadn’t expected Krit to know the legal drinking age for elves, but they did own a bar.

         The mushrooms were amazing.

         She ate like a starving hydra. Despite the dish’s fungal nature, it was fresh in a way she hadn’t experienced since she was ostracized from the Court. While it was certainly different from the fresh fruits and sundried meats of home, she had to blink rapidly to keep her eyes from watering when Krit set a glass of peach syrup down next to her.

         She realized what she must have looked like when she finished, and she flushed rose gold yet again, but Krit smiled and Erch merely huffed. Seki wasn’t good at understanding when she was meant to say thank you, but she felt genuinely grateful now.

         “Thank you,” she said, and it came out quiet, but not a whisper. Black goblin eyes became mere slits as a smile widened. Krit heard her fine.

         “What are you going to do with her?” Erch cut in. He didn’t sound nearly as aggressive or frustrated as before. Actually, he sounded almost anxious. She dismissed the thought. Krit ignored the question in favor of asking a question of their own.

         “What were you exiled for?” Seki realized what Erch was thinking the exact moment his eyes flashed- he hadn’t known she was exiled. Of course, not everyone knew elven customs and she shouldn’t have expected him to. But it seemed to change something. His posture straightened.

         “I was associating with centaurs.”

         And Seki saw it. Something clicked for Erch. All of a sudden Erch was on his feet and leaving. He nodded to Krit when he paused in the doorway and turned brown eyes on her once again. She held her breath.

         “I’ll let you go this time. But consequences will come next time, alright?”

         Seki nodded, sighing in relief once he left. Krit laughed- quiet and raspy- and they tapped her on the nose once she turned around. Though she cringed away from black talons that were much too close to her eyes, she didn’t feel very threatened. She met black eyes with her own, and they narrowed again with Krit’s resulting smile.

         “I have an empty room upstairs and the need for a waitress.” Seki blinked once as she processed this, then blinked several times in rapid succession, hoping that the tears wouldn’t spill over. She was barely successful.

         “Thank you,” she said again, and she felt that she would soon say it a lot more when Krit refilled her glass of peach syrup.

KRIT

         Krit did not consider themselves to be very parent-ish. Or parent-ly. Or however it was supposed to be worded. They were generally alright with the concept of and continued existence of children. They just weren’t very good with children, especially non-goblin children. It was part of why they had opened a bar in a questing town instead of a restaurant in a city. And it was definitely why they had never sought out any to call their own.

         And yet, this little elf girl called Seki- and Krit found out the elf’s name and gender an embarrassingly long while after they invited her to stay because they had always been both impulsive and forgetful- was now theirs in a way that was unlike another creature’s selfish concept of possession, and they quite frankly had no idea what to do with her.

         Krit knew the basics of having a child. They’d interacted with children before. Once. Perhaps even twice. A child was to be kept well-fed, well-watered, and well-rested. They were to learn things, although what specific things was something entirely unknown to Krit. But Seki wasn’t really all that childish. She wasn’t inexperienced with the world; while age was usually discussed concerning one’s race and potential lifetime, it was still clear that Seki was much older than them. She wasn’t all too emotional either, and while she smiled and frowned and moved her face in all the ways you were supposed to when making your emotions clear to others, she sometimes reminded Krit of themselves as she stared off at the wall and let her face go blank. And she was almost entirely self-sufficient.

         So. What was a parent supposed to do with a child like Seki?

         There were other things about Seki that confused Krit: her explanation to Krit that most creatures found gender important, her strange fear of the dark, her way of immediately assessing everyone who came to the bar, and the way she always knew exactly when to cut a patron off and when to let them keep drinking. She was a lot like Erch, although Erch was human and that explained most of his confusingness.

         At the moment, however, Erch was being an entirely unreasonable creature that one should never hold a conversation with ever.

         “Look, Krit, if you’re taking care of Seki, you need to file it in with the Pack. You know this.” It was a late night at the bar, and Erch was the last customer of the day. Technically, the bar was closed and they could kick him out at any point. Instead, Krit huffed a sort of unnoise that Erch always said was odd; an unnoise was a lack of sound when one was prepared for sound, and while Erch always told them that was not a real thing, it was a goblin thing. “Krit…”

         “She is mine. No werewolf is coming near her.” As a goblin, Krit knew vaguely of her race’s adoptive tendencies with unwanted things. They’d been the same with Erch, although they’d had to partially give him up when he became wanted. They’d had many conversations about the idea of possession with Erch, none of which they understood. (Something about how even though he wasn’t particularly attached to his paperclips they couldn’t just have them because they were his. It was baffling.) But having this feeling towards a child was strange and new. Strange and new enough that they were using improper and impolite words such as ‘mine’ and ‘werewolf’ and not understanding in the slightest why.

         “Lycan,” Erch corrected. Krit made another unnoise, puffing their cheeks and making a face. Yes, yes, being unrude was important- polite, Erch would remind them if he could read their mind- but it was all so inconvenient when one didn’t like to be unrude. If that Pack tried to take Seki away from them, they’d have a lot more to say than ‘werewolf.’ “And it’s just filling out paperwork. Otherwise, this is technically kidnapping”

         “Sounds irritating and unnecessary and preposterous.”

         “It is entirely necessary,” Erch insisted. Krit sighed, wishing that this was a goblin town for not the first time in their life. Then they wouldn’t have to worry about opinions and tax changes and whatever else paperwork was meant for when they took in Seki.

         “Fine. But I get to lie.” Erch frowned disapprovingly but acquiesced. Krit would never fit neatly or nicely into any place that wasn’t distinctly goblin, and Erch knew that some red flags would likely be raised if they didn’t lie a little. (Tax evasion, mostly, was their biggest ‘crime.’ Taxes were just so perplexing and problematic, and a little illusion-work could go a long way. Erch should have been a little more understanding; he was the vigilante after all.)

         “You’re corrupt.” Krit never could quite tell if Erch meant that as a compliment or not. He’d protest whenever they thanked him for it, but he always said it so fondly.

         “Alright. Would you like some more sourdough?”

         “Absolutely.” Krit grinned at that and then walked into the kitchen, where they found Seki drinking a glass of peach syrup. She drank it so much that they were considering buying some extra cans of peaches when they went to the market next week, because while they had a good amount of it left, they wanted Seki to like it here. What else did elves like? Fruit, books, and sunshine? They’d have to ask around.

         “Hey, Krit! Are you…? Are you talking to Erch about me?” Seki’s teeth worried at her lip and Krit wanted to exclaim to the whole world that this was their child and that no one would be allowed to make her feel anxious ever again. That wasn’t exactly possible, however, and so they resorted to giving the child a brief hug before leaning over and taking a knife from the block. They had found that Seki was somehow very easily comforted by a hug, even though the idea was somewhat ridiculous- goblins were never so touchy with each other- but they tried to hug her at least once every day.

         “Erch says I have to do paperwork to officially make you my child, which is silly because I’m keeping you no matter what. But I’m doing it anyway because Erch can sometimes be tremendously bothersome.” When they had finally found the sourdough in the cupboard, Krit looked over at Seki, twirling the knife once out of habit, and was surprised to see Seki looking at them with shiny grey eyes and a dropped jaw. “Is there something wrong?”

         “You want me?”

         Oh.

         “Of course I do,” they answered instantly, setting the knife down. Any moment now, Seki was going to burst into tears, and they wanted to be able to hug her when she did so. “You’re mine. I’ll want you forever.”

         That did it. Seki pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Krit gathered her into a tight hug, squeezing tightly as Seki murmured excessive apologies that they dismissed immediately. They glared at Erch over their child’s shoulder when he parted the curtain ever so slightly to peer in, and the glare worsened when Seki startled even at the quiet noise. Erch winced as Seki jumped out of the hold after catching sight of him.

         “Sorry for intruding, kiddo,” he said. He may be Krit’s best friend, but if he didn’t do something to fix the fact that Seki was currently tensed up and anticipating something, he was going to have to eat dwarven meats for a month. “Um, so you’re okay with Krit adopting you?” Seki nodded but didn’t reply, and thankfully Erch accepted that. “I- I thought so, so I-” He cut himself off, bringing out a thin stack of papers from his messenger bag. Krit’s glare vanished. Seki’s eyes went round and hopeful, and Erch would not be eating dwarven meats this month.

         “We can do it now?”

         “Yep,” Krit replied, popping the ‘p’ and ruffling their kid’s hair. They shot a grateful look towards Erch. Paperwork still seemed awfully superfluous, but they would do it without any further complaint now that they recognized that it was something important to Seki. Erch was a lifesaver; they knew nothing about most creatures’ emotional responses to things such as this.

         They sat down in the back room next to the kitchen, and Erch finally got another thick slice of sourdough, although he made a rule that none of them would leave until they were finished so they wouldn’t miss or muck up any of the questions or forms and not have the others around to intervene.

         The paperwork was a journey. Erch looked like he was about to have an aneurysm when they confirmed that they had never filled out a tax form in their life and that they had also likely never paid the correct amount, but he told them what to write when they came to that part. Seki found the list of Krit’s ‘crimes’- activities that were easy and fun and therefore frowned upon in adult society- unequivocally hilarious, and the sound of her giggles was enough to keep them telling stories until Erch threatened to leave them to fill this stuff out on their own. Both of the others were confused when they mentioned that goblins didn’t have last names. (This led to a conversation discussing why the bar was called Taproot’s, in which Krit explained it was the false name of the witch who used to live here, who was also likely an illegal caretaker, given the fact that they took in Krit. Erch couldn’t hold back his sigh.) The group was even more confused when Erch said his last name was Fischer and Seki said she was stripped of her last name when she left the Court.

         “But what did it use to be?”

         “I don’t know; it was taken from me.” Krit tilted their head, but after a moment, Erch seemed to have some sort of horrifying revelation.

         “Oh… Fae folk believe in the power of names as more than titles, almost as corporeal material, right?” Seki nodded, and Krit tried to process that. “So, they physically took it from you and erased your memory of it? So, they have- they have power over you now? Because they know your name, but you don’t?”

         “Yes? I was exiled,” Seki said softly as if this was normal. Krit did not like the idea that any elf could potentially take advantage of her child. Erch muttered a swear under his breath, but it wasn’t in any language they knew; they only recognized that he was swearing because of the many, many times he had said it. Krit made a frustrated unnoise. “It’s okay. If I can decide on a surname for myself, I can take that one, but until then, it’s okay. The Court doesn’t usually pay a lot of attention to the banished.”

         Krit put that matter aside; they were getting much too angry for a heavy conversation with a vulnerable child. Instead, they moved on to the next portion of the adoption paperwork, leaving both surname slots blank. Seki was quickly distracted by the fact that Krit technically didn’t own their house. They had filled out the paperwork (once, maybe) to purchase the lower floor from the older witch (who’d raised them from their so-called ‘teenage’ years) to turn into a bar, but that had been a long time ago, and they had just been unofficially given the top floor. Erch slammed his head on the table when they mentioned using illusions to come up with the right paperwork, but he eventually helped them forge the documents properly, berating them all the while about how most paperwork was checked for common illusion-work such as conjuring. It was a good thing Krit usually used summoning for tax days, though they kept that to themselves.

         Eventually, the paperwork was done, and Seki practically latched onto Krit. Krit was barely able to wrap their arms around her before she was bounding away and towards Erch to give him an even briefer hug. Seki’s face was overtaken by a sort of pinkish gold that Krit had seen before; it meant she was embarrassed. She quickly ran off to her room, and Krit couldn’t hide their chuckle when they saw Erch, still frozen.

         “I… I thought she was scared of me.” Krit considered that.

         “I think Seki’s scared of authority and punishments, but not necessarily you anymore. I think it helped her to see you aiding me in all of my less than legal enterprises.” Erch glared at them then, running a hand through his hair.

         “They’re called crimes, Krit.”

ERCH

         Erch twirled his knife as he sat on the railing of a roof. He believed he was on top of that one dwarven barbeque that he hated, but it was easy to lose track of where you were in a town where the roofs were so level and close to each other; thankfully, it was also easy to parkour across them. He didn’t know where he was, having only received instructions based on block number, but he knew he was in the right place. Erch squinted through the darkness, cursing himself for forgetting to ask Krit for some more of that night vision potion. But it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t planning to make this a long patrol anyways.

         But he wasn’t exactly taking a break right now, so the patrol may be dragging on longer than he originally thought. He had received a tip-off from an old nāga who lived in the next town over, and he was inclined to listen for two reasons: one, nāgas were half-snake, half-human, which was a great combination for observation purposes, and two, those who weren’t local to Ongavho tended to pick up on unruly behavior better. Or, well, easier. Erch liked to pride himself on being vigilant, but even he knew he had become a little desensitized after spending nearly two years in this town. Not to mention the stuff he had seen when he was little, before he came through the gateway.

         Erch pushed away that thought. He’d never been one to dwell on the past so much; at least, not until he met Seki. She reminded him of himself in an odd way. Only, the younger him, when he was teenaged and stupid and chasing an adrenaline rush that finally wasn’t from huddling in a bunker under the ground during a bombing. He’d been harsher with her at first because he remembered how selfish he’d been as a teenager, but she wasn’t him. She was much better, and maybe that came from her literal hundreds of years of experience, or maybe that was just her. Either way, he felt sort of bittersweet whenever he saw her in Taproot’s, sitting in his booth and drawing little flowers on the edge of the table or helping Krit with a customer.

         He almost thought of her as a little sister, he realized when his eyes caught on the window of a shop across the street and he immediately thought that maybe Seki would like that shawl with the flowers on it. He’d never really want to admit it, but ever since he had encountered that party of centaur questers- on their way to die at the hands of a beast- he’d been a little hostile towards elves. But Seki was showing him (through her similarities to him and Krit and even the centaurs) that he needed to let go of his bias.

         He quickly flicked his gaze back to the alleyway in front of him, cursing under his breath in German. Erch needed to focus. Erch was the Ongavho Guardian; to do his job he had to keep others out of his head. He spun the knife in his fingers a few more times, eying the way the light caught on the off-white blade before he looked back down at the alleyway.

         He was about to call it quits when a light flicked on in the house next to him. He now saw the warm yellow seeping through the crack in the door facing the alley. Perfect. Now all he had to do was listen. He quickly uncapped the bottle for a sense enhancer and downed it, stuffing the empty bottle back into his supply belt. This specific potion was a difficult one; Krit had somehow rigged an enchantment to connect what he heard to the recorder in his bag at home. They hadn’t been able to connect his sight to his camera yet, but he was impressed with what they had already done.

         “-what, call the Guardian! See if I care!” A deep grating tone abruptly became audible. “You know I’m right! This may be a questing town, but I thought we had standards here in Ongavho. If the Pack is just going to kowtow to dwarven whims, the Pack shouldn’t be in charge. We’re practically a dwarven territory already!”

         “This is treason,” a lighter tone advised. Well, they were half right. Any action on this opinion would be considered treason. “The Pack is still independent; any action now would prove rash and foolish.”

         “I’m not a fool! And if you won’t join me, I’ll do it myself.”

         “You can’t just kill someone, Sakhal!”

         Oh, verdammt. He had stumbled across an assassination plot. Just what he wanted on this lovely moonlit night.

         “I assure you that I am perfectly capable. Or have you forgotten where you got that scar? Fighting alongside me in the wars? This is not what I fought for, Kenai! They are not our pack; our pack died fighting for our freedom. Why should it matter?” Verdammt. These were lycans, and even with his sense enhancers, he couldn’t take on two at once without having to knock them out. Normally, knocking them out would be acceptable, but he’d have to grab his recorder at the bar before he brought them to the Pack, and he couldn’t lug them around the town that far without running the risk of them waking up. (This wouldn’t be a risk at all if the moon wasn’t hung so high and visibly in the charcoal grey clouds.) He couldn’t deal with that. He sheathed his knives; they were too deadly a weapon to use on a creature without scales or magic, and lycans wouldn’t react to the fear tactics he tended to use.

         He pulled out his phone and texted Krit: meet me at the Packhouse with my recorder. They had to be awake, the insomniac. He’d have called, but lycans had enhanced hearing as well, and any talking would certainly catch their attention.

         “The dwarves are not ruling us yet, but if you kill any Pack member, they will take over-”

         “So we’ll fight!”

         “Then we’ll die!”

         “SO WHAT?” Erch flinched at both the words and the volume of them. Desperation was dangerous, and this lycan had nothing left to lose. “…Kenai, I swear to the moon, if you don’t help me, I will never forgive you.”

         “That’s not fair.”

         “And losing our pack years ago to a cause that is still not yet realized was? And being made fools because of a government of puppets is? And having an out but not going through with it because your packmate won’t listen to you is?” Verdammt. Sakhal was starting to convince Kenai, judging by the following pause. He looked back down at his phone.

         Coming. Be there in five minutes.

         That… didn’t seem to match up. Was Krit not at the bar? Whatever, that didn’t matter right now. All he knew is that he needed to draw out the lycans, knock them out, and drag them to the Packhouse. He whistled sharply, and the sound pierced the night.

         “…One,” Kenai started. “Mammal, non-magical. We can take them.”

         “Let’s see if they heard us.”

         The door opened without so much as a creak. Two lycans walked out, one with an almost blond fur type and the other a grey-brown. They didn’t look related, and Erch realized with a grimace that unless they were mates- which they likely weren’t, considering the lack of claiming scars- they probably were chosen packmates, and were bound to give him some sort of trouble. Usually, he would take out a smaller opponent first so he could work himself up, but he had to take out the blond one this time if he wanted to remain unscathed. A lycan would fight feral if their chosen packmate was injured, let alone knocked out, so he took out his taser, grimacing at the fact that his fight with the other lycan would be mostly hand-to-hand. The lycans were wary as they glanced around, and Erch pushed off, twisting midair so his feet landed on the blond lycan’s shoulders- it would hurt, but not injure seriously, as hardly any creatures were as fragile as humans- and swinging, making the lycan crumple to the ground. He leaped off, already landing a swing to the other lycan’s knee. His ankles were hurting from shock, but he knew it would pass- the drop hadn’t even been a full story, truly.

         “Sakhal!” Well, at least he knew he was fighting Kenai, the one that seemed to have a problem with killing. He couldn’t rely on that; their anger, on the other hand, could blind them to any of their obvious mistakes. Kenai was already snarling, but their knee was bent at an awkward angle, and they had shifted most of their weight off of it.

         Erch ducked as claws raked at empty air- or at least what he thought was empty air. His hood was torn into ribbons, but he didn’t have a scratch on him, so he quietly mourned his hood while swinging at the wrist that hadn’t quite retreated enough. He winced at the crack he heard, even though he knew it was likely just the joint popping, but it made the lycan startle and he took the opportunity to slam his bat into their head. Kenai crumpled to the ground. Erch felt bad, but he had to remind himself that lycans were much more ‘durable’ than humans, and neither would sustain any lasting damage.

         He slipped the bat into a loop on his belt, then maneuvered the two lycans against the wall so he could pick both of them up at once. Erch groaned as their weight settled on his shoulders, cursing himself for not taking his normal strength pill. He only took the magical ‘supplements’ as Krit called them- magical steroids- a couple of patrols a week, as they could have unfavorable health effects after too much exposure, but boy, did he want them now. He started the walk towards the Packhouse, thankfully finding out that he was not far when he reached the nearest street sign.

         He had to adjust the bodies on his shoulders multiple times, but at least he was at the last turn before his lungs started to burn. The Packhouse was in the center of town, so he was really lucky that he hadn’t encountered anyone on the street. Although, if Erch thought about it, the only one who’d be out this late would be a local or a regular, and neither option would interfere with the business of ‘the Guardian.’ His train of thought promptly derailed when he turned the corner to see none other but Seki.

         “Hey, Er- I mean, Guardian!” She half-whispered. Erch tried to ignore the awed look on her face as she scanned him and the two lycans. He sent her the most scolding glare he could muster, but he could feel the corners of his lips twitching, so it was likely not going to work.

         “You should be in bed, Seki.” Her eyes pleaded with him as they snapped up to his face.

         “But you sent that text! And Krit was out foraging and I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do!” Seki shoved the recorder into one of his hands awkwardly, and it stopped whirring, then reset itself. He felt the effects of the potions halt, and he sighed deeply. “Please don’t be mad-”

         “I’m not mad, kiddo, I just want you to be safe. You’re going to have to come into the Packhouse with me, so…” He rummaged through the pouch on his belt the best he could- he was carrying far too much right now- and finally pulled out an extra black mask. “You’ll probably need to adjust it, but wear this.”

         “Thank you!” Erch dismissed her with a half-hearted gesture and walked up the steps.

         “Can you knock?” Seki jumped at being addressed directly, then nodded and stammered as she processed it was a question. She knocked, falling silent, too embarrassed to say anything else if he was judging by the blush rising above the black material on her face- the one that was normally rose-gold but turned oddly silvery and reflective in the moonlight- and he smiled at her before realizing she couldn’t see through his mask.

         “Guardian? Who do you have with you?” Erch perked up at the familiar voice of Caralpa, the newest member of the Pack.

         “Two unconscious hostiles and my sister.” Seki’s eyes widened and he realized his mistake. “I forgot something for patrol and she had to bring it.” He was absolutely going to ignore this situation until he couldn’t anymore; besides, the Pack thinking they were family was only more beneficial for them.

         The door creaked open and Erch would’ve laughed at Caralpa’s wide eyes- she’d get used to his vigilantism soon enough- if he had the air for it. Seki waved shyly, still unused to talking with strangers despite having worked as a waitress for just over a month now. Erch could see the exact moment Caralpa internally went ‘aww.’

         “Come in. You can set them down in the front cell. What’d they do?” She unlocked the door and Erch sighed as he put them down, trying not to sway with exhaustion. Lycans were heavy. Especially these ones. Caralpa and most of the Pack were on the small side, and they were linked by their distinctive dark grey and white coloring. Technically, this was a coincidence, but Erch had suspicions about this specific type of lycan and the way they often treated the women in their pack. That wasn’t his business though; if there was an issue, the Pack would be taking care of it. He shook his head and stretched, huffing a laugh at Seki’s concern when his back made a noise like popping candy.

         “It was prevention, actually, but I have their conversation on tape. Recorded, I mean,” he explained. Caralpa still wasn’t used to his more exclusively human expressions, but her confusion cleared with the reiteration of his point. He made his way out of the cell, and as she locked it behind him, he popped the tape out of the recorder.

         “Oh, good. Then I can just-”

         “I want you to listen to this with the rest of the Pack if possible; it’s pretty upsetting.” Caralpa looked up from where he was handing her the tape, yellow eyes slanting in a tell-tale way. “I promise you I’m not underestimating you. It’s going to be upsetting for the rest of the Pack to hear as well, but it’s something you’ll need to deal with together anyways.” Seki looked between him and Caralpa and subtly shifted closer to his side, a movement that Caralpa obviously picked up on. Thankfully it relaxed her instead of aggravating her.

         “Alright. Goodnight, Guardian.”

         “Das lebwohl,” he said, saluting her casually. Seki mimicked him, and they left.

         The walk to the bar was a little long, and they spent the first few minutes in awkward silence. Erch could feel Seki staring, but he was trying to puzzle out what to say first.

         “…I really do think of you as my little sister, you know?” Seki abruptly stopped in the middle of the road, and Erch took the opportunity to guide them into an alleyway. He pulled his mask down, and she did too, revealing an awed expression underneath pale, shiny eyes.

         “Really?”

         “Really,” he confirmed. Seki’s breath hitched, and oh, did Erch want to hug her. He may or may not have voiced the want, but that really didn’t matter when she was already nodding into his chest. He squeezed her as tight as felt he could without bruising her fragile form. She clutched at his sleeves so he couldn’t pull away, not that he wanted to. “Can I ask you something?” She made a muffled affirmative noise, and he took a deep breath. Was he really about to ask this? “…Would you like to take my last name? Since Krit doesn’t have one and all.”

         Suddenly Seki was pushing away from him and he felt his stomach drop. (Of course, she was an elf; she’d find that weird or offensive or condescending or-)

         “Yes.” It took an agonizingly long second for him to process this, but when he did, Erch beamed at the response, his chest tightening after he saw Seki’s all too toothy grin that matched Krit’s.         “We have paperwork tonight, then,” he replied, his own grin becoming a little crooked. Seki giggled, and they started to walk back the way they came; they’d need to pick up the papers at Ongavho Hall, after all.

if i may have the honour of shaking your hand, sir! this is GRIPPING, ENJOYABLE, and HIGHLY EMOTIONAL and i love it so much. im officially invested. i do appreciate a "young" character who is actually like a thousand years old cause their race is just Like That TM, and seki is so sweet <3 krit is so crotchety yet kindhearted i am entranced by this combination. and once again i must say i am obsessed with the mix between modern elements and fantasy elements, like erch is internally dialoging about centaurs and magic potions and then casually whips out his phone to text krit---now THAT is good stuff.

also,

"He quickly flicked his gaze back to the alleyway in front of him, cursing under his breath in German." <- ERCH SPEAKS GERMAN??? THE MAN EVER HE IS A LEGEND

[nthngtoseehere-blog]

Dramas/movies I've finished (or 'finished')

I've watched enough east Asian dramas/movies that I've tripped my brain’s "must make a list" switch. Updated 3/28

Blue = favorites

Also:

Dramas I'm watching / want to watch

Dramas I dropped

Dramas:

2gether the Series (Thai)

I guess a lot of people hate this and don't think the leads have any chemistry at all? But I actually loved them. It's not a hot-and-heavy kind of chemistry; it's very sweet and kind of innocent, but not facile. On the other hand, they were all I liked about the drama.

Ai Long Nhai (Thai)

This is the most ridiculous drama, and it brings me so much joy. Nothing hurts, everything is beautiful. Nhai is a precious scatterbrained bean, and Ai falls in love at first sight. All of the things about Nhai that drive other people crazy just make Ai go all fond and soft. I smiled so much watching this that my face hurt.

A League of Nobleman (Chinese)

Good but definitely felt like it was missing scenes. OT3 Lan Jue/Zhang Ping/Wang Yan!

Bad Buddy (Thai)

Wow this is good! It's Romeo and Juliet with some West Side Story thrown in. The actors are fantastic, and watching how they progress from sort-of-enemies to committed boyfriends is wonderful.

Bed Friend (Thai)

OMG Uea the sharp-edged traumatized bean, and King green-flagging all over except for that one moment where he needed to have his head flushed in a toilet for reacting in the absolute worst way. I love this show A LOT. It's not a perfect rendition of a young man who has suffered a lot of abuse in his life, but it handles that element really well (therapy and medication FTW), and the romance is sweet and sexy.

Between Us (Thai)

I liked the first half a lot, but didn't like Team very much after they got together. His personality/behavior changed; he was, IDK, tougher? earlier, which I liked a lot more. However, I LOVE Win so much I can't even.

Bad Guys (Korean)

There were several moments when certain things almost made me nope out (Oh Gu Tak’s entire self; my overwhelming desire to cut Jung Moon’s hair so that his one eye wouldn’t be perpetually covered up; the detective lady whose name I never bothered to catch), but I was so glad I finished it. Park Hae Jin in eps 9 – 11 blew me away; and the ending was kinda dark but in a way that was so satisfying.

Be Loved In House: I Do (Taiwanese)

Not my favorite Taiwanese bl, but not bad.

Beyond Evil (Korean)

Wow, so much going on. The characters developed beautifully, even though Juwon went through a bit of a bratty phase. I loved the mystery.

The Blood of Youth (Chinese)

I loved this so much. THE FOUR WAY BROMANCE omg. And the way the ML slowly but surely dismantled the villains' plans! He met every set-back with a “well, that’s unfortunate, but I can fix it.” It was great, even though the romance they shoe-horned in for the ML was annoying.

Dangerous Drugs of Sex (Japanese)

I watched this because I was curious. It was... Hmm. Well, all I can say is, if you too become curious, make sure you pay attention to the reasons it's 18+, and then assume it's going to be even more f*cked up than it sounds.

Dr. Romantic 2 (Korean)

Honestly I watched this for the Seo Woo Jin whump (Ahn Hyo Seop does suffering so attractively), but since doctor shows otherwise make me nauseous I didn’t watch the last couple of episodes. But I really liked the various relationships among the different characters.

Duoluo Continent (Chinese)

Watched this for Xiao Zhan. I’ve never watched anything like this outside of having caught a glimpse of the Pokemon and Yu Gi Oh cartoons my kid watched, and it was...different. The FL was so irritating, but I wasn’t burned out on this kind of FL yet when I watched this so it was fine.

En of Love: Love Mechanics (Thai)

Too short! The fact that is was remade with most of the same cast and an expanded story makes this one feel almost like a pilot. It was definitely good enough to make me track down the longer version (which I'm currently watching). YinWar are really engaging actors.

Fish Upon the Sky (Thai)

Same actors as in Never Let Me Go, but this one is a comedy. The main character is a high maintenance nerd who goes through a glow-up that almost no one really notices (because he's STILL a high maintenance nerd) except the guy who has had a crush on him forever. Of course it's a guy he thinks is terrible. I loved it. Which is weird because I generally hate comedies.

Handsome Siblings (Chinese)

I enjoyed it mainly because it’s ridiculous.

He is Psychometric (Korean)

Super cute, comfort show. The twists and turns were great. I loved the characters. Side note: the actor who played young Kang Sung Mo did an amazing job. I actually had to stop at one point and Google the cast to make sure the show hadn’t somehow managed to make the older actor look like a teenager because the younger actor absolutely nailed the older actor’s take on the character. (Turns out the younger actor is the ML in The Uncanny Counter! In which I also love him.)

Healer (Korean)

OMG I love this show. So much. I even loved the romance. I wrote a post about it. (Did I go looking for Ji Chang Wook’s filmography after watching this? Yes, yes I did.)

HIStory 4: Trapped (Taiwanese)

Getting into bl drama is a lot like getting into bl manga/manhwa: requires accepting that dramas with action/mystery/SFF are few and far between. (I would also add "dramas with adults" but there seem to be more and more of those these days.) This was one of the first bl dramas I found that wasn't just a romance, and I was SO EXCITED. It's a little cheesy, but I loved it. The cop/mafioso romance (which is also a grumpy cat/sunshine puppy romance) between the leads is a lot of fun. And it has what might be my absolute favorite side pairing: the always-smiling assassin and his adorable tiny cop boyfriend (a sunshine velociraptor/sunshine puppy pairing, if you will).

Hotel Del Luna (Korean)

This show is amazing! Jang Man Wol stewing in rage and ennui for a thousand years only to have everything turned upside down by a stubborn, good-hearted puppy-man who she ironically stuck herself with. The slow, heartbreaking, breath-catching reveal of Man Wol’s past. The range of creepy, sad, funny, heart-warming ghost stories. The characters. The production quality! Ah, so good.

If You Wish Upon Me (Korean)

Another OMG I LOVE THIS. Ji Chang Wook is so good at “sweet, tough, vulnerable, and a good guy despite being raised by wolves” characters. I did cry semi-regularly due to the nature of the setting, but while I usually avoid things that make me cry, this was good crying. And so worth it. Also, the FL is a hoot, and a BAMF when she takes on the ML's abusive ex.

The Imperial Coroner (Chinese)

Adorable nerds falling in love over corpses in ancient China WHAT’S NOT TO LOVE.

Jade Dynasty (Chinese)

I get why people don’t like this, but I did. It was a silly, sweet, fun story and it only required a time commitment of an hour and some.

Joseon Attorney: A Morality (Korean)

I wanted to like this more than I did, because Woo Do Hwan. Loved him. Favorite part was when he was imprisoned and being tortured and someone came to visit him in his cell and he was fidgeting and fussing with the filthy straw while he talked with them. Like. Oh honey. WTF are you doing, just have a good cry and take a nap before your next torture session my babie. But I got kind of bored? As soon as we found out what happened to his sister I gave up and fast-forwarded through the rest so I could at least see what happened.

Jun & Jun (Korean)

I had to be in the right mood to watch this (open to a silly office romance with ALL the tropes), but when I did finally watch it I loved it. There is second (and third) lead syndrome, but all three of the men in love with Lee Jun are likeable, and I honestly would have been happy with Lee Jun choosing any of them. Also, Lee Jun is the most precious bean.

Lawless Lawyer (Korean)

I struggled through the middle of this. I’m not a huge fan of how in Korean shows everything always goes to absolute shit for the main character(s) mid-way through. I mean, I don’t mind that element of storytelling in general; it’s the way it’s so devastating in so many of these shows. This one hit me when I was in the wrong frame of mind, I think. But I’m glad I stuck it out because the way the villain was ultimately taken down was fantastic.

Love and Redemption (Chinese)

OMG LOVE. Serious, serious love. I wrote a post about this.

Love by Chance (Thai)

Ehhh. I ended up fast-forwarding through all of it except the Ai/Pete stuff. That is a great relationship, though. Pete has internalized politeness to an adorable degree, and is sweet despite having been badly burned; Ai went from "uninterested in dating anyone at all but assumed straight" to "oh I'm in love with this guy? I must be gay. Cool."

Love for Love’s Sake (Korean)

This was a sweet show. The concept was clever, and the way it held onto its secrets until almost the end worked really well.

Love in the Air (Thai)

I tried watching this about a year ago - first Thai drama, first bl drama - and I got through the first arc and quit, and didn't go back to bl or Thai dramas for literal months. It was mostly due to the production quality, the cheesiness, and all of the pouting Rain does. But I went back to it recently, after watching A LOT of Thai bl, and I actually love it? Still cheesy, still wishing they could have invested in a boom mic, but I can handwave that now I guess. I really, really love the second story arc, about PaiSky. Sky is a great character, and Prapai goes through character growth! Starts out a pushy, cocky playboy who thinks it's cute to stalk the guy he likes, ends up being a compassionate, responsible boyfriend.

Mad Dog (Korean)

MORE LOVE. This was the kdrama that caused me to fall down the rabbit hole of kdramas in general. I’ve watched this three times. The found family element, the character journey that especially Kim Min Joon but also Choi Kang Woo go through – help, so good. And what a great introduction to Woo Do Hwan. I wrote a post.

Maiden Holmes (Chinese)

This is like...if your favorite, heart-warming, Jane Austen-inspired romance drama was a mystery set in ancient China and had cool fight scenes. Comfort food.

Manner of Death (Thai)

This is barely a bl (very few bl tropes); it's more of a mystery with romance between the two leads who are both guys. Very good, if a little cheesy in places. And let's not talk about Tan's marriage proposal because wtf dude.

Memorist (Korean)

I watched this early in my exploration of kdramas and didn’t like it for some reason; I fast-forwarded through a lot of it. But I think I might have just not been in the right mood before, because I tried it again and it was excellent! The twists and turns of the mystery, the way things that seemed unrelated turned out to be all connected, was awesome.

Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice But To Kiss! (Japanese)

This was adorable! The main character had a lot more layers than I expected, and his love interest was so sweet.

My Beautiful Man (Japanese)

Two high school boys with problematic behavioral issues whose issues complement each other. It's unexpectedly charming and touching, and I'm really glad there's a sequel!

My Roommate is a Detective (Chinese)

If you want a bromance where you can easily ship the male leads, and has some whump, and you don’t mind cheesiness: here you go!

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnamese)

There's not a lot of Vietnamese bl out there, and I wanted to try one. This one is good; not the greatest acting, but still good. Also, the episodes are so short, so it's a quick watch.

My Tooth Your Love (Taiwanese)

One of the main characters is a dentist, hence the absurd English title. I'm not good with any dentistry situation so I admit I watched a couple of seconds here and there through my fingers, but it's really just a lovely romance. I can't remember where I read it, but this is a good description (paraphrased): the leads woo each other with plushies and naps.

Never Let Me Go (Thai)

Rich high school student's dad is murdered in front of him, and has another high school student, who has never bodyguarded before ever but his dad makes him do it because his dad is kind of a jerk, assigned as his bodyguard. Weird premise, EXCELLENT delivery. The actors who play the boys have great chemistry, and make the characters feel very real.

The Novelist (Japanese)

I don't even know what to say about this drama? It's a bit like those weird little Indie films from the 90s. Like, it's pretty good, but it's also...something.

Numbers (Korean)

I really liked this until the last episode. It fizzled out. Is there supposed to be a second season or something, maybe? IDK.

Oh No Here Comes Trouble (Taiwanese)

Oh this was GOOD. The title and ML's hair cut (yes I judge) made me think it was going to be silly, and there was silliness but there was also a lot of depth and emotion. ML's family situation is a traumatic running thread. The mysteries are clever and fun but heartfelt and sad too. It was just so good.

Old-Fashioned Cupcake (Japanese)

Oh this is so sweet! It's based on a bl manga I haven't read yet, but definitely will because this is just the sweetest, warmest story.

Our Dating Sim (Korean)

Very good, very sweet. I really felt for Gi Tae, waiting so many years, and then hiding so much anxiety.

Sell Your Haunted House (Korean)

Oh this is so good! A great supernatural show, with a great FL, and the FL and ML become besties rather than romantic yay.

Semantic Error [TV show] (Korean)

I watched this because I’d heard of the manga, though I absolutely wasn’t expecting to actually get sucked in like I did. Excellent show. Another one I wrote about.

The Sign (Thai)

I loved this so much!! Action, crime, reincarnation, mythology, romance, humor - there’s so much going on and I enjoyed all of it. The last two episodes used some hand-waving instead of explaining things, but I’m not mad. Billy and Babe had amazing chemistry, too.

Together with Me (Thai)

I couldn't get Manner of Death at the time, but everyone keeps talking about MaxTul, so I watched this. It's not bad.

The Uncanny Counter 1 (Korean)

The first kdrama I watched! The only reason it didn't cause an instant obsession with kdramas is because i started watching Love and Redemption after and that was 59 episodes of blissful hyperfixation. But I love the supernatural/superhero/semi-religious? aspect, I love the different families that the ML has/finds, I love the whump.

Under the Skin (Chinese)

So far this is the only modern Chinese drama I’ve been able to finish. The mysteries were good, the relationship growth between the two male leads was compelling! Good stuff.

Unforgotten Night (Thai)

This show is really pretty terrible. I'm incapable of not laughing when the soundtrack cuts to a track of ~Italian mafioso music every. single. time that Kamol comes on screen. But it's gone so far past terrible that it's come out the other side, and I kinda like it.

The Untamed (Chinese)

First east Asian drama for me! I watched and rewatched this show multiple times in 2021, and without it I don’t think I would have explored [read: become obsessed with] east Asian dramas. I’m still in the fandom and reading the fic and watching the FMVs and etc. I cannot quit WangXian.

Until We Meet Again (Thai)

This is an amazing drama. Romeo and Juliet, but make it a modern bl college story with reincarnation, and the reincarnated Juliet has PTSD from his past life memories. Excellent storytelling, acting, everything.

Watcher (Korean)

Ooooooh this is so good. All of the characters are so compelling, and the overall story kept me engaged. Also, Seo Kang Joon: yes.

Why R U? (Thai)

This is kind of terrible, except that ZeeSaint as Fighter/Tutor absolutely sizzle. I also loved watching Fighter figure out his sexuality via 50% dialogue and actions and 50% Zee's incredibly expressive face.

Word of Honor (Chinese)

I watched this after watching The Untamed, and was kind of meh about it. But then after I’d poked around cdramas a bit, I watched it again and loved it. IDK what happened, but now it’s a fave.

You’re All Surrounded (Korean)

Ok, the FL in this is terrible. So annoying. Despite that and some of the other things that didn’t quite click with me, I was unable to drop it because I NEEDED to find out how Eun Dae Gu’s story would end (very satisfyingly actually!).

Movies:

Long Time No See (Korean)

I love this so much! Assassins; cool fight scenes; traumatized lead; murder boyfriends! UGH it's so good.

The New Employee (Korean)

Not bad. Not great, but not bad.

Pipeline (Korean)

NGL, I watched this because I wanted some Seo In Guk whump. It definitely delivered! It was a fun, fast-paced story, with very little character development and a very underused villain, and really good action. I turned my brain off and enjoyed it. The only thing I couldn't help mentally griping about was the complete lack of ear protection in most (all?) of the drilling scenes. They should have all been partially deaf, good grief.

The Yin Yang Master (Chinese)

Wacky and good!

The Yin Yang Master: Dream of Eternity (Chinese)

Less wacky than the other one, but also good, and the bromance!!!

[poll-ventures]

Perdition 1.7

<                      ≡                      >

I nodded.

Isaiah took my hand, the smile burning on his lips revealing his teeth.

As he touched me, I felt a shiver go through my entire body. I stood quickly, then paused, rolling my shoulders in amazement. For the last ten hours, I’d felt like I was swimming through honey. Now, I felt like I could run a mile.

Isaiah chuckled. “Looks like it’s already taken a toll on you. Let’s get you right.” He looked down at me sympathetically, relaxed. The federal agent dozing not a few feet behind him shuffled slightly.

I glanced at his teeth again, bright even under the poor lighting, thanks to his boyish smile. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d seen something there, for just a moment as he’d touched me.

Fangs.

Walking out Old Hill Police department’s cell block, we passed Kim. A commercial was playing on her tiny T.V., and she was watching it unblinking. 

Isaiah strolled idly past her, holding the door open for me with a flourish and a bow. I cautiously stepped forward, looking upward at the ceiling for cameras.

Not for the first time that day, I wondered what the fuck I was doing. “Why are we getting away with this? What the hell is going on?” 

He paused at the door, still holding it open like an over eager butler. His smile faded, and he said, “We’re getting you out of here.” He bit his lip. “We’ll worry about repercussions later, okay?” Just as quick, another smile rose to his lips, his moment's hesitation vanishing.

I blinked, looking up at his black ball cap with the Fugheddi’s logo on it. “You work for Fugheddi’s?”

He nodded, smile widening slightly. “Good thing you called.” He paused, shrugging. “Course, we already knew where you were, but still. Quite the coincidence! Now c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” He stepped back from the door, allowing me to pass.

For some godforsaken reason, I trusted him. I slipped past him, leaving the building. 

The sun had long ago set on Old Hill, slipping from the sky, and into the mountain’s purview. The parking lot was empty, save for Horne’s cruiser, a black sedan, and a parked motorcycle. 

The air nipped at me, colder now that the only illumination was the bright LED streetlights. It was a cloudy night, but the light of the moon still bled through the swiftly moving clouds.

I looked behind me to Isaiah, who was comfortably walking in a short sleeved shirt and jeans. Behind him, loomed the mountain. The dark mass of the Appalachian mountains painted the west blacker than a starless sky. Its details were enigmatic, shapeless, a broadly painted wall of darkness that devoured the western horizon.

I walked toward the parking lot, eyeing the rock lit by its own miniature spotlight. Isaiah sped past me, hopping onto the rock, then hopping off of it just as quick, untied shoelaces flying through the air. 

His shoe left a thin layer of dirt on the Old Hill city crest carved into the rock. I sped up to keep pace with him, until he ran past the black sedan and stepped up to the side of the shiny black and red motorcycle.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, stopping in my tracks.

“What? Oh!” he clapped a hand onto his head, leaning back in exaggerated annoyance. “I forgot, you have a thing with cars.”

“This isn’t--This isn’t even a car! And how do you know that?!” I threw my hands up, stomping my foot. “I don’t even have my phone or wallet! What the fuck is this plan, anyway? You know how fucked I am if we ever get caught? And I doubt-”

He cut me off, stepping closer to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Hey,” he said calmly. “I got your stuff.” He cocked his head towards the saddlebags on his motorcycle. “It’s all good. We just have to go. Got it?” He smiled, unblinking as he stared into my eyes. It left me uncomfortable, his touch cold, even through my puffy jacket’s arm.

“Fine. I just… Can we walk? I’m not going on that thing.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “We don’t have time for-,” he groaned, then returned to staring into my eyes. 

On instinct, I closed them, right before he spoke. “No! You are not doing that shit to me.” I shook my head furiously as he grabbed both my shoulders.

“C’mon, Parker, we need to fucking go! It’s easier this way, just, open your eyes! It makes it much easier, and you won’t even be scared. You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” He said all this very fast, grabbing my shoulders.

“No. I’ve seen what it does to people, and I don’t-” 

I felt two fingers quickly and gently press into my eye, pulling back the eyelid swiftly. For a moment, before I pushed his hand away from my face, Isaiah’s eyes met mine. In that split second, Isaiah spat the word “(Sit!)”.

I felt a freezing warmth spread throughout my body, starting in my head, then pouring slowly down my arms and into my legs. I fought that coldness, his prickling word, (Sit, sit, sit, sit, sit!) but it was too strong. I felt it take hold in my heart, then twist.

Suddenly, I was sitting on the cold cement of the curb. Staring off into space, I saw out of the corner of my eye as Isaiah sighed, then bent to pick me up, heaving me onto the back of the motorcycle. 

“That was harder than it should’ve been,” he grunted. With me on the motorcycle, he dusted his thin black jeans off. “She fed you way too much.”

I ignored his words, feeling a sudden spike of panic. Was I sitting? I wasn’t sure. The polished leather of the motorcycle’s seat chafed at my thighs, and I wasn’t technically standing… I adjusted my legs to be on the pegs of the vehicle, to be sure. That counted more as sitting, right? God, I hoped so. I just needed to sit.

You laughed shrilly. It felt good.

As Isaiah mounted the beast, it rumbled to life, coughing out smoke as we swiftly pulled out of the parking lot.

****

“When is a door not a door?

When it is ajar.

When is a horse not a horse?

When it is a…”

I blinked. Where had my mind gone? We were driving past blurry, single streetlight parks and darkened strip malls, driving fast into the heart of downtown, up into the foothills of the mountain.

“Jesus, slow down!” I pounded on the back of whoever I was clinging to desperately, shouting as I straddled the lower half of the motorcycle I was suddenly on. “Slow down!”

He looked back at me, and revved the bike, laughing loudly. The wind made the hem of his black shirt flutter as he took a left turn, leaning dangerously into the curve.

I felt more than I saw the asphalt rush up toward my face, and heard the hum of the wheels changing in pitch as less of the rubber made contact with the road. Isaiah--that was his name, Isaiah--slipped his bare left hand off of the handlebar to brush lightly against the road as we hugged the curve.

As we came out of the curve, he slammed his hand against the road, throwing us back up into verticality. I screamed as the motorcycle straightened, tightening my grasp around his stomach. “Slow the fuck down!”

Then, the nearly deafening sound of the motorcycle died. My scream rang out into the empty parking lot the left turn had landed us in. I looked around as the motorcycle slowed.

We were in Old Hill General Hospital’s parking lot. The building’s core was old, new wings radiating outward from the center. Each was more advanced, cleaner and fancier. They had been built with the same pace as the booms Old Hill had seen, originally built at the same time as the mines. 

The hospital had expanded with the first boom in the 1910’s, then again in the 1940’s, 1970’s, and most recently the 2000’s. A sudden surge of a few thousand mine workers meant a need for a bigger hospital. It was one of the oldest buildings in Old Hill, or so the city records in the town museum said.

Isaiah stuck his feet out as the motorcycle rolled to a stop, and I leapt off before it did. I remained silent as the last fumes of the motorcycle were swept away from us by the cold, midnight wind. The parking lot was silent now, just three cars near the entrance. 

The mountain still loomed high above us, closer now.

Nervously, I glanced down the street where we’d come from. No police. I rubbed my head, then stopped as I felt my scab crackle.  A thin, fresh bead of blood trickled down my forehead. I wiped it away, then turned to Isaiah, who had a finger out in a silencing gesture.

I bit my tongue, looking at him with a disapproving glare.

He smiled from atop his bike, infuriatingly. “Answers, soon.” He held the right handlebar, and was carefully rolling the bike up onto the sidewalk of the parking lot. 

It lead down a steep, short hill, to underground parking for employees. The entrance was covered with a metal shutter, a security door to the right.

He looked back at me, waving for me to follow. I looked back to the street we’d come from, watching a car pull up to the intersection, stopping for a red light. As I hurriedly walked to Isaiah, he rolled down the steep hill, kicking his feet up as he went.

When I caught up to him in front of the security entrance, he’d gotten off his bike, and was peering through the bulletproof pane of glass into the underground parking.

“Hey,” I said forcefully enough that he’d look at me.

His smile was tiny, but still there. “Howdy,” he said. “What’d you think of the ride?”

I glowered. “Never do that to me again. Whatever you did, back there, to make me sit? Never again.”

He raised his hands in a placating gesture, smile gone as he put his full attention on me. “I promise, it’s not going to happen again. I just needed to get us out of there, and fast. Sometimes-” he sighed, cutting himself short as he glanced upward. 

I followed his gaze, spotting a bulbous camera, sprouting off the side of the wall like a watchful tumor.

He straightened out his long black shirt, dusting off his hands as he let his motorcycle rest on its kickstand. “I’m just saying, it was an emergency. I can’t talk, but I will later.”

“You fucking better,” I said, stepping closer to him. “You know how fucked I am if you get me caught?”

“Oh, you’re fucked?” His smile returned, now with a healthy shake of painful mirth. “I really went out on a limb to-”

There was a heavy, metallic click as the door opened, swinging slowly past the motorcycle to reveal a short, twenty something woman in a black leather jacket and thick blue jeans. She stared up at Isaiah, a wave of exasperation rolling off of her.

“You’re late,” she said, in a higher pitched voice than I was expecting. Her leather gloves wrinkled as her hand tightened around the pull bar of the door. Her brown hair bobbed as she shook her head, it was cinched into a high, tight bun. 

“I told you, I get here when I get here.” He jockeyed past her, forcing her to make room for his bike as he did so.

“Are you coming?” She stared up at me impatiently with a large, accusatory nose. 

I blinked, then nodded. I sidled past her into the parking garage.

The door closed with a thunk, echoing out loudly into the dark room. Isaiah strolled past empty parking spots, warm yellow light rolling across his cap and gleaming across the metal of the motorcycle. 

The wheels squeaked softly as they rolled their way across the lot, leaving a line in the dust that had settled on the neglected cement. The woman followed behind, taking long strides to catch up to Isaiah. I brought up the rear, slowly.

“No scrapes?” she asked, putting a careful hand on the motorcycle as she strolled.

“Just on me,” Isaiah said, and I could hear the grin curling his mouth. He showed her his left hand, and the layers of skin his little stunt had cost him. “But I’m getting better with it.” 

She frowned. “You need to show her respect. She-”

“It knows when you’re scared, yes,” he interrupted. “Heard.” He took his right hand from the handlebar, offering it to her. 

She shook her head and slowed as they reached a patch of filthy wires next to the elevators. “You need her more than I do.”

Isaiah smirked, leaving her bike to rest on its kickstand again. With the woman’s help, he pulled away the patch of rotted wires, revealing a rusted metal service door that looked like it hadn’t been used in decades.

The lady turned to me. “Turn around,” she said.

“Why?” I asked, stepping back slightly.

“Just do it,” Isaiah said tiredly.

I turned, and heard a quiet rasp of metal on metal. 

“You’re good,” he said.

I turned back to see the woman turning a big red knob. It opened with ease, hinges silent. The door had no keyholes.

Inside was a long, dark hallway that led into and past a maintenance tunnel of the hospital. This walkway wasn’t in the blueprint I’d seen, but it seemed old and unused. It was unlit, darkness stretching out from the vanishing point, maybe ten yards ahead.

“Fuck that,” I whispered.

The woman smiled wanly, then grabbed my shoulder. “It’s worth it.” Turning to, then nodding once to Isaiah, she walked forward into the thin gap of darkness until she vanished, then further until we could no longer hear her footsteps. 

Isaiah shivered, staring into the blackness after her. Then he shrugged, taking a step forward. I grabbed him by the arm before he could push the bike into the tunnel.

“Now,” I said. “Tell me what the hell is going on. Who are you people, why do you know my name, and how do I factor in this mess?” I paused to breathe. “And what the hell is in there!?” I pointed violently into the wall of darkness.

He looked at me pleadingly, patting my hand where it lay on his arm for a moment. Again, I felt that shock, and pulled back from him. “It’s safe. I promise. As for everything else…” He looked into the tunnel, then back to me. “It’s easier to explain when we get there.”

“What? Why?” I sounded tired and confused.

“‘Cause, I can’t lie to you there.” 

****

The motorcycle roared, filling the tiny gap of stone with its smoke and noise. Thin, desiccated wires lined the walls of the stone, linking long-dead light bulbs housed in thin iron cages together over the sightless miles. It must have been miles, because we had been driving for at least half an hour.

Sometimes, the tunnel would break off into a crossroad of stone paths. Isaiah would slow, then continue down one seemingly random direction. I was worried that we’d gotten turned around.

Once, a turn of the tunnel took us onto white, tiled floor, with functioning lights, insulated walls, and mysterious doors that were always locked. I recognized the design. We were under the university, long tunnels that connected the morgue underneath the school to the hospital.

This was by far the best kept portion of the tunnel, though still rife with decay at every step. Dead rats lined the sides of the tunnel, spiders painted webs across the close ceiling of rock.

Always, the tunnel had a draft: Some mysterious wind smelling of well water and old stone that whisked away the fumes from the motorcycle. Always, we rode down a slight decline, the tunnel diving deeper into the earth. The tunnel seemed to be getting smaller, just a few inches of empty air between us and the ceiling or walls at any given moment. 

I had agreed to ride the motorcycle because we were going relatively slowly, and Isaiah insisted I should. It wasn’t much worse than a bicycle. “Do you know where we’re going?” I shouted over the thunder of the engine beneath us. 

Isaiah nodded, smiling simply as he tapped the top of his black hat. 

I looked past him doubtfully, staring into the darkness that even the headlight of the motorcycle failed to pierce. 

We came upon another crossroads, where Isaiah didn’t even stop before turning down the rightmost path. He sped up, gripping the reins and bowing low to the body of the motorcycle. The stone hallway gradually melded into a more jagged cut, making me duck my head as we sped past the unlit torches.

For the first time in hours, the path diving into the mountain shifted upward. I felt the motorcycle strain as she began to climb, the lantern pinned to the front of her saddle swaying in rhythm with her gallop. 

I craned my head above Isaiah’s shoulders as the tunnel grew tighter. He crouched further to the saddle, rearing his legs to spur the bike forward. I felt my stomach turn in fear at the speed. I could see light, twinkling down from the mouth of the tunnel, just seconds away. 

As we crested the hill, I squinted at the end of the tunnel, staring into a vast vista.

Speeding toward the exit, my mind struggled to make sense of what I saw. I blinked, feeling the wind rush past me as we sped out of the tunnel and into the cavern. It was-

A castle. You were looking at a castle, no, the castle. The one you had come from. This came unbidden, from a long, distant memory; nearly gone, but never forgotten. Thick, stone ramparts guarded smaller, radiating rings of towers and buildings inside, each larger than the last, and all surrounded by a thick moat of flowing water.

The river’s water fed the mushrooms, who’s network pierced the stone, who’s glow lit the interior of the castle, suffusing the cavern with a warm, multicolored light. Towering above it all, stabbing itself into the center of the castle itself was-”

A massive stalactite. It was made from its eons old drippings, hanging for miles from the stone ceiling. The monstrosity tapered down from the size of a few football fields until it seemed maybe the width of an eighteen wheeler, before it was eclipsed by the wall of the highest rung of the castle city. I imagined the tip of it, distant and sharp.

The river-moat dug through the cracked stone landscape outside the castle, pouring out from a waterfall in the wall and ending in the throat of a natural cave. I blinked back the twinkling, reflected light of the mushrooms in the moat. It danced in the black waves, painting the castle and cavern in a subdued, drifting rainbow. 

The mushrooms grew everywhere, lining the natural walls of the cavern and its faraway ceiling, steadily lighting the inside of the ringed castle. I gaped upward, unblinking. The wind, thick with the smell of the water and mushrooms, stung my eyes.

Isaiah elbowed me as he looked up at the distant ceiling with a grin. When I looked at him, he pointed down at the castle, where a large wooden gap in the wall was lowering. 

Leaning past him, I saw that the woman from the hospital was standing lookout in a small tower behind a metal gate at the end of a short cobblestone path, lowering a bridge over the churning moat. She waved curtly when she saw Isaiah pointing.

He nudged the horse into a slow trot, heading down the hill and toward the castle. I looked behind us, down the dark tunnel where we’d come from, and then glanced down.

“A horse!?” I shouted, shocked to find myself on a living being.

You rolled your eyes.

My shout rolled out across the stone cavern. Isaiah patted the flank of the black and brown mare, his smile beaming as she carried us past rings of bright mushrooms poking out of the stone. “Her name’s Bella.”

As we approached the roar of the water, Bella chuffed, speeding up as she spotted her owner across the moat. We sped over the bridge, the mare’s hooves clacking softly on the worn wood, then stopping short in front of the metal portcullis preventing entrance to the castle. 

Isaiah dismounted in a fancy sweep of his legs, holding the horse's reins as he went. I realized now that he was wearing a black smock--almost a poncho--that came to a point beneath his knees.

His hat was replaced with a thin sombrero, and his jeans had vanished. In their place were thick, wool leggings tucked into tall, turned down leather boots. With a confused hilarity, I saw that his laces were still untied. 

He winked at the woman behind the gate, who was now dressed in a red draping dress, worn under heavy leather padding and belts to make the sleeves. It looked as if the gown was one long bolt of cloth. Her brown hair was in a multilayered braid, laying long and heavy down her back.

She frowned up at me as I sat atop her horse. Isaiah reached up a hand, and I took it graciously, ungracefully sliding off the back of the mare, who whinnied in annoyance. Bella was tall, and had eyes for no one but her owner.

As I landed, a cloak fell around me, covering me almost to my calf. It was very soft and warm, a deep almost-black green. Somehow, I knew that once, the cloak had been the texture of rough denim. Now, it had been worn to the point of smooth velvet. 

The short woman clicked her tongue as she pulled a sugar cube from a pouch on her belts, feeding it to the horse through the bars as she patted her mane down. She looked at the happy horse as she spoke, saying to Isaiah, “Say it.”

He sighed, a hand on top of his coiled black hair as his other held his sombrero. “Really? You literally saw us, like thirty minutes ago. Plus, you know it’s her.” He patted the mare’s flank again, but she sidestepped, his second pat missing her entirely.

Stash looked up at him, a small smirk tweaking her upper lip. She spoke with a sing-song voice, savoring every second of having a set of bars between her and Isaiah. “Say it…”

Isaiah sighed dramatically, then hung his head, speaking in a deadpan. “High, low, hinny-minny ki-ki, un-cha-cha, pee-wa-wa, ishkamellakin hunkabunka hunkasunka alley-you-hoo.” He knocked his head against the bars. I stared at him in confused astonishment.

Stash had broken into an honest to god fit of giggles, clapping loudly as she staggered back.

“That’s goddamn demeaning, you know that, Stash?” He pronounced her name with a long a, stepping away from the bars and kicking them as he did. “Now raise the gate, jackass.” There was a thin smirk on his face as he looked up. 

Stash walked backwards into a room carved from the inside of the wall, stumbling with high pitched laughter as she went. The string of nonsense words had broken me from my speechless reverie. I turned to Isaiah, who was furiously wiping the smile from his face.

“Where are we?” I asked. The portcullis began to rise, noisy metal churning coming from within the large castle wall. “Tell me what the hell’s going on here, now.” He turned to me, nodding slowly as his fingers fluttered across the rising metal bars.

“You’re at the heart of it,” he said simply. Staring at him as he spoke, I realized his lips were moving at a different speed than his voice now. Whatever he was really saying, I wasn’t hearing. It almost made me sick. I stared out at the entrance of the castle instead, the mare moseying forward now that the gate had risen. 

As soon as all of us had passed, the gate fell back, slicing heavily through the air before slamming into its resting place. Then, the drawbridge began to rise, metal chains slowly racketing it back into place.

As we watched, Isaiah spoke softly. “I’m pretty new to it too. It’s a lot to take in at once, I know.” I nodded, eyes wide as I saw the last light of the mushrooms doused by the thick wooden drawbridge.

“That doesn’t really help. I’ve had a really shitty day.” I turned back to Isaiah as I spoke. He stood, idly rubbing the mare’s snout as he watched the bridge rise.

“Yeah. Lots of your memories not matching up with what you used to think, sudden thoughts that don’t make sense.” He spoke dryly, not even asking.

“That’s part of it,” I said, eyes narrowed at him. 

“I know what you’re going through. It gets easier. But…” He finally turned his head to me, smiling shyly. “If you need someone to blame… It’s us.” 

Stash returned, patting her hands on the leather near her hips before taking the mare’s reins from Isaiah. 

“Welcome to Castle Eidos,” she said, waving her free hand to the layered skyline full of thin reaching towers. The horizon was dominated by the colossal stalactite, reaching out of the stony heavens to meet the highest rung in the middle of the actual castle.

We went forward, following Stash and her mare up a two-way road that switch-backed up the hill. As we entered ‘Eidos’ proper, I saw a main street to rival Times Square. It was massive, but empty. Beautiful empty buildings lining an empty street, mushrooms creeping out of alleys and growing in the middle of intersections. It was far larger than any castle I’d ever seen online or in a textbook.

The stone buildings were in prime condition, all looking recently built, if anachronistic in their designs. Traditionally Mayan techniques were neighbors to Egyptian styles, traveling thousands of years and miles in a few steps. Many of the styles I didn’t recognize at all, some even built with materials that seemed foreign, or even alien.

The other two walked up the sloping road silently as I gawped at a Roman statehouse next to a Native American stone lodge. It was tall, wide, and almost dominated the entire block with multiple stories and balconies. 

Just beyond the lodge, we came upon the large wall of stones that the next rung of the castle was built atop. There was a wide path sliced into the large stone wall, a lookout tower and checkpoint dug carefully out of the stone. 

We walked past the empty borderline, unceremoniously passing what felt like a division of class or era carved into the stone itself. The buildings on the other side of this border were noticeably older, still built in their anachronism.

As we made our way up the winding road, we passed more of these demarcations, equal lengths apart. As we passed each of them, the surrounding buildings grew more dilapidated and ruinous, forgotten. Past the fourth and final line, mushrooms choked most surfaces available, and some buildings had fallen apart entirely. 

“Is this place real?” I asked, my eyes having made their way back up to the tapering, upside down spire at the center of the ringed castle once more.

“The realest,” Stash said. “This all was here long before us, and will be long after.”

I glanced between Stash and Isaiah, both were quiet as they trudged upward. “Okay… But who built it?”

A few moments passed, silent save for the clatter of boots and horseshoes on stone. Stash looked to Isaiah and said, “Isn’t yours more talkative? Tell the man.”

He shook his head, then bit his lip, focusing. After a moment, he shrugged. “Nobody. It grew.”

I lowered my eyebrows, breathing a little heavy from the steep incline. “Grew? From what?”

Isaiah nodded upward, eyes locked on the spire.

I stared at it for a moment, then pointed a finger at Stash. “Wait, what’s more talkative? What do you mean?”

She shook her head, feeding her mare another sugar cube from her belt. “Yours is already talking to you, is it not?” She tapped her skull, braid brushing at the clips on her leather belts.

“Yes, but what the hell is it?” I was pleading now, exhausted.

Isaiah smirked, then nodded upward again.

The spire.

Now that we were close enough, I could see it was covered in small, spiraling carvings, as far as I could see up the shaft. No mushrooms grew on its length, and it was a darker gray than the surrounding stone. I glared up at its enormity, following its length to where it must become a point. 

Only a few blocks ahead, still eclipsed by the ruined walls. I felt dread roil in my stomach, seeing the stalactite far above me. If it were to fall… Well, I’d die for sure. These two though?

“Hey, why can you do the things you do?” I asked suddenly, sounding annoyed, even to my own ears. “You can tell feds to let their prisoners go,” I said, pointing at Isaiah. I moved my finger to Stash. “You got here first, even though we were on a-” I paused, turning to the mare. “And you! Can turn into a horse!”

She whickered, unimpressed. Isaiah snorted, and Stash grinned, then spoke up.

“Tools of the trade,” she said plainly. Her lips and words moved out of sync as she spoke. I looked back to the road. “Except for Bella. That’s just Eidos’ effect on her.” I blinked at her, confused, and she said, “You’ll see soon enough. Isaiah’s right, though. We got you into this mess, and we were working on getting you out,” she said, glaring backwards at Isaiah. “Max is super pissed at you for jumping the gun.”

The boy smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Let’s just focus on the bigger picture. I wanna leave small talk for the break room.”

“Fuck that,” I said. “If you got me into this mess, the least you can do is explain it. First, what’s up with your words? They don’t match your mouth.”

They both nodded, and started speaking at the same time. Isaiah lowered his head to Stash, who said, “Eidos is a place of… Reality. We can’t lie. And whatever we say gets translated to its most true meaning. Here,” she said, looking me in the eyes. 

She walked forward as she stared at me, speaking slowly and carefully. “I am speaking Polish. Good morning, good night, brush your teeth, dumbass, goodbye, hello.” Her words were still out of sync. 

“That was all English,” I said, staring back.

“Not to me. But you understood it, perfectly.” She nodded, then turned back to the road.

“Okay… Why? Why is this all like this?” I gestured to the entirety of the walled city.

She shrugged, matching Isaiah’s. “You’ll find there’s not much reason we can make of this place. Try asking your voice.” Stash tapped her skull again, and I watched a thin strand of her brown hair catch in the buckle of a belt.

I frowned at her curiously, then closed my eyes, hand on the horse to guide me as I looked inward.

Isaiah tapped my shoulder, and I could hear his grin. “You, uh, don’t need to close your eyes. It’s not some Matrix shit. You just think at the thing.”

Think at the voice. Easy enough, okay. I lowered my head, pulling my mind to the center of my chest, my soul.

Why can I understand Stash?

“Groundwater. Blood of the Mothers. Odyssey. Vein of the Moon.” You were grinning.

The words erupted in my mind, unbidden, in the same voice I’d been hearing. I could see the smile on its face, even though I couldn’t see an actual face.

“Weird, right?” Isaiah clapped me on my back, the clap muffled by my cloak. “Yours is probably quiet. You didn’t get that much.”

“That much what?” I glanced up at Isaiah, but he pointed ahead.

We’d come upon the spire’s resting place.

There was a small, wooden door in front of us, set into a mossy wall. Along the edge of the street, mushrooms lit the lower half of the tall wall. Trees poked up above the wall, the only I’d seen in the walled city. Their green leaves looked wrong in this place of stony sky and cobbled floor, the mushroom’s glow lighting the undersides of the lowest leaves with a ghoulish red tinge.

Beyond the trees, was the spire. Stash and Isaiah halted. The spire towered above us, much closer, but still too far to touch. It obviously came to a point within the walled forest. I looked back at the others, both standing far away as they looked up at the spire.

The door was made of thick, well cut basswood. I grabbed the knob, turning it as I stepped back. It opened with the tired squeal of decades old hinges, swinging heavily to reveal a misty path through a copse of trees. 

Inside the walls of the forest, there was real dirt. I put one boot in, feeling the soft earth give just a bit as I stepped on it. I looked back, hesitant. “Are you coming?”

They looked at each other, then Stash spoke. “Only one of us can come. Boss’s orders.”

I looked between them, trying to see if she was joking. They looked dead serious. 

Isaiah was still staring up at the tapered spire as he said, “Or you can go alone.”

Stash gripped her mare’s reins, looking at me with a thin layer of regret. “You’re going to go through some shit in there, honey. Even with one of us there, you’ll need to do some of it alone. Either way, you should take Bella.” She patted the horse fondly.

I looked back, into the wooded path. The mist curled around my boots, a soft wind blowing at the hem of my cloak. The darkness of the forest seemed to bleed into the old city street, dampening the colored light of the mushrooms. I bit my lip, feeling something inside my mind shift as I made my decision.

What do you do?

<                      ≡                      >

[skeletap]

What does spinal tap do for horn/other spiky parts maintenance? Has this care changed from when he was younger (is it more or less intense, etc.)?

Thornimp general appearance maintenance:

Scales/Skin: Scale oil. Pretty straight forward.

Skel (Horns/the white parts on their face)/Thorns (body spikes): Regular maintenance is brushing it with a tooth-brush shaped brush to prevent staining (which can be buffed out but is annoying to do so). Then giving it the occasional buff with clear polish and a buffer brush like they use on shoes. They don't trim or sand down their horns or thorns unless for medical reasons, because those grow fairly slowly and have live bone in the middle so it can easily get ouchies.

Spinal Tap's routine was pretty basic when he was younger, but he would put the effort in to make himself look nice if he wanted to impress. As he got older he got a little more intensive with it because he felt like it was one of the few things he could control in his life. Now on the surface/at Snake Mountain, he just has a ton of products aimed at caligarians/avionians that don't exactly work as well as products aimed at thornimps/serpos but he has to do a bit more work to get the same result.

[meteor752]

Oh lawd they been through some shit

So, I’ve done their designs when their parents were still alive on DL. I’ve done their designs of when they joined Empires. I’ve done their designs for when they visited Hermitcraft. I gave them lil Christmas outfits. I showed what they would look like in the future. I even made them as gosh darn villains

But there’s one period of their lives, that I haven’t shown you. I’ve talked about it plenty, even wrote a fic about it, but you’ve never been shown it visually

Double life when their parents had died

Twenty years, of just starving to death repeatedly for the babs

Let’s show it

Oh and btw tw for like, some minor body horror, gauntness and starvation, blood, injuries, and all that jazz. Will be properly tagged

(Also, I cannot express how fun these designs were to make. I spent hours on every single one and it was just such a delight to make them)

Liana

I think I’ve stated this before, but Liana took some heavy damage to her left eye during this time, resulting in her needing a monocle to see properly, thus the eyepatch. Dirty and ripped clothes (those will be very common across every design), and fresh scars that can still be seen in her later designs, just more faded. The missing shoe is also intentional, as that is the foot she later looses to frostbite. It had very little protection against the elements. Her wings being their normal bright colors is also a fun little thing, as even during her most horrid distress, Liana found the time to preen. Idk what’s going on with the pose, but I’m assuming broken ribs. It just looked fun

Wes

The famished look actually the most unnatural for him, because he’s usually so bulky and large. Moss coat fresh and clean, most important thing for him. Newly broken horn, probably a month or so into the development. I actually have very little to say about Wes’ design here compared to everyone else’s, cause like it’s the one I’m probably the most dissatisfied with. It still looks fine and such, but it’s just a bit basic I guess. Idk. I still like the hair, especially the dyed part

Gertrude

Could have gone with the same kinda vibe for her as everyone else, but I realized that I actually haven’t shows Weretrude. This right here isn’t full on Weretrude, more like halfway through transformation, cause I still wanted her to like, look like her ya know. But yeah girl is fully out of it. This is probably not too long after the end of dl, before the game mechanics stopped. When the passing of time kinda stopped, as did the monthly full moons because it never became night. So yeah, the one advantage to their miserable situation

Johnny

The first design, and the reason I did all of these. Johnny was always the one closest to his parents, so their death tore him up the most, to the point where he never left their grave. Moss and vines started to grow on him eventually, and animals and bugs found home in his hair and wounds. So yeah, bad time for lil country bumpkin boy.

Jassy

Ngl, Jassy looks cool as fuck. The sunken in eyes paired with the startling green of her irises, her dirty white hair and mask covering most of her face, her clothes, the fucking contrast in her skin between the light and the dark sunken in parts. I didn’t even intend for that but I just loved it so much that I kept it. Also since this is before she started to form her own identity, she still has the classic Kakashi mask.

Jekiv

Mans looks…honestly pretty normal. Like when everyone is just skin and bones, the actual zombie doesn’t look that zombie like. His skin and hair is a little dirtier, his pastel clothes are a lot dirtier, but yeah he faired pretty alright during this time. Since the first fic I ever wrote for the kids was Jekiv’s logbook, I felt it would only be fitting that he was writing in it for his pose. The quill is also made from one of Liana’s feathers, hence the quality condition. As mentioned in the logbook as well, Jekiv lost his hooded cloak a few years in to a spider, so his hair is on full display here. He hates it.

Novo

Absolutely obsessed with him actually. All of the kids have their own unique weapons (Liana her bow, Wes his war hammers, Gertrude her mace, Johnny his whip, Jassy her double daggers, Jekiv his scythe) except Novo, so I thought it would be only fitting for him to have something as well. And what’s better for him than a barbed bat? He probably still has it in the future, but it’s mostly being kept in his inventory. Difficult being a friendly bard if you keep a murder weapon on you at all times. Also, his cloak? It’s one of Pearl’s old dogs. Not Tilly of course (She was cremated), but one of her pups. Morbid? Yes absolutely. Fitting for my favorite weirdo? Yes absolutely.

[italiantnea]

#0-2_shiratama_ryuko/ I'm about to laugh

prev: 0-1 // next: 0-3

—–

She’d lie in wait for him. That morning, she’d made up her mind to do so the moment she opened her eyes.

The problem was where.

After much thinking, Shiratama Ryuuko hid in the shadow of the shoe box. When Otogiri Tobi came by, she’d jump out energetically. She’d done something similar before. That time, she hadn't particularly intended to scare him. She’d just thought, “He’s here!” and poked her head out from the shoe box’s shadow, and Tobi had been startled and stepped back.

That had been kinda fun.

She wanted to give him a real proper scare. What kind of reaction would Tobi have then? Her heart pounded with excitement imagining it. But—

As she held her breath and imagined Tobi’s expressions and behaviors, a thought bothered her.

What kind of human felt such happiness at the thought of scaring a friend?

“What do you think? Chinu…”

At times like these, Ryuuko couldn't help but talk to her well-used pochette.

“Oh no!”

She whipped her head around frantically. Luckily there was nobody around right now. If someone were there they’d think she was a freak.

Ryuuko put both hands on the pochette and sighed out a single “Phew.”

“...Huh?”

Something was strange.

‘Strange’, or rather, the pochette was rustling.

“Chinu…”

Ryuuko unzipped the pochette. Immediately, Chinu’s horns shot out. Her white fur trembled restlessly.

“Does it hurt? It’s okay, come on out.”

As Ryuuko whispered to her, Chinu pushed her body about halfway out of the pochette as if she had been waiting to do so. Her small mouth poked out between her fur and cried out, “Uchuu—”

Ryuuko nodded at Chinu and began walking. It wouldn't be a problem if Chinu were to be seen. Well, most people couldn't see her anyway. Even so, she was still somewhat concerned about attracting attention. Numerous students came and went around the shoe box.

“I don't think scaring Tobi is such a great idea either…”

Kuii.

Chinu cried out, as if to say, “Right?”

“Lying in wait…”

Maybe she was thinking about it the wrong way. She didn't have to lie in wait, she just had to wait for him somewhere.

“Would it be better to wait in the classroom?”

Uyuu. Chinu cried.

“...But for some reason I just can't feel at ease.”

Suddenly, Ryuuko stopped in her tracks.

“Am I speaking too much? I’ll seem like someone who likes to talk to themselves…”

She began walking immediately. Ryuuko walked quickly.

Chinu looked up at Ryuuko. Chinu didn't have anything that resembled eyes. But she really was looking.

When she kept Chinu in the pochette, she could act as if she wasn't there. She couldn't have Chinu looking at her like this. She always ended up being aware of her presence.

Ryuuko came to a halt on the landing of the stairs. By chance, no one was around.

“Chinu—”

She touched the pochette. About three fifths of Chinus body was outside the pochette. Despite that, she filled the inside of the pochette.

“Have you gotten bigger after all? Chinu…”

She’d been smaller in the past.

Back when her grandmother had bought her the pochette there had been plenty of space. It had been roomy.

Was she growing up steadily?

Little by little, bit by bit.

Ryuuko was the same after all. For instance, compared to three years ago when she’d been in fifth grade, her height had changed considerably. She’d grown around fifteen centimeters. But she wasn't quite aware of it herself, and she didn't particularly feel like the scenery she saw every day changed much either.

However, lately Chinu was awfully big.

It was sudden.

She’d suddenly grown bigger.

Recently.

When had it started?

“...”

Ryuuko breathed in.

Unyuu.

Chinu cried.

Some female students were climbing up the stairs. Ryuuko moved to the corner of the landing so as to not get in their way.

Her heart was pounding.

Ryuuko felt strange right then. For some time, she hadn't been thinking of anything. She probably hadn't seen or heard anything either.

She'd been spacing out.

Ryuuko slapped her temple with the palm of her left hand. She couldn't help but do this whenever she tried to remember something. She did this often during tests too. It was a habit from way back.

Why was she spacing out? Since when had her mind gone blank?

When?

That’s right.

Ryuuko had been thinking about something. Chinu. Recently, Chinu was bigger. Had she ever felt that before? Just like how Ryuuko grew taller, Chinu was growing bigger as well. That was undeniable. She’d been smaller in the past. The past. When was ‘the past’?

Lately, she’d grown bigger.

Ryuuko squeezed her eyes shut.

There it was again. It wasn't like she lost consciousness. Saying her consciousness felt faraway wasn't quite right, but it was like a white wall appeared in front of her, and her thoughts wouldn't continue beyond that point. This happened from time to time.

For instance, this happened when she tried to read books her grandfather bought her. She would encounter a difficult passage, and she couldn't understand it no matter how many times she read it. All of a sudden, she would be unable to think of anything. Afterwards, when her grandfather asked her questions, she would surely be unable to answer them, and she’d get scolded. The thought of that scared her desperately.

She’d sometimes blank out in the middle of being questioned by her grandfather too. Why aren't you saying anything? Her grandfather would yell. He’d rap on the table with his fingertips, and Ryuuko would come to her senses. Even when she apologized profusely, her grandfather wouldn't forgive her. Once he was angered, his mood wouldn't improve that easily. Thanks to that, even her grandmother would become cold.

A good for nothing child.

Whenever that happened, Ryuuko would reflect on herself.

I am a good for nothing child.

There are so many bad things about me.

A bad child.

Me, good for nothing.

I am a good for nothing child.

That’s why.

So that must be why—

And then Ryuuko would blank out again.

Kii. Chinu cried out. Did that happen first, or was it the stimulus of the footsteps and presence of someone walking up the stairs? She didn't really know.

“Ah.”

Ryuuko ran to the edge of the landing. Two male students were climbing up the stairs side by side. Both of them were in the same class as Ryuuko. The boy carrying a backpack on his back looked up at Ryuuko with upturned eyes. Otogiri Tobi’s eyes widened slightly.

“Good morning, Tobi!”

Ryuuko raised both hands in the air. It was an unconscious action.

Tobi furrowed his brows like “Eh?” and Ryuuko not only thought, “Wahh…”, but also said it out loud. 

Ryuuko was striking a strange pose indeed. This looked like she was cheering in jubilation. Though it was true her heart leapt at seeing Tobi, it wasn't to the point of cheering hooray. She put both hands down.

“Ah…”

Tobi quickly dipped his head.

“Good morning.”

“G-good morning!”

She’d said good morning just now. She’d accidentally said it again, how embarrassing.

Beside Tobi, the boy with the long bangs was dumbfounded. Of course she’d been aware that he was there, but honestly Ryuuko hadn't paid him much attention. Thinking of it now, that was quite rude.

 “Um, good morning to you too, Asamiya-kun!”

After bowing to Asamiya Shinobu, Ryuuko realized she’d just said good morning three times. Her embarrassment boiled over, and her whole body felt hot.

“...Fuah! I, really, I…”

“H—”

Tobi covered his mouth with his right elbow and looked down.

Asamiya-kun even burst out laughing.

“You sure are a funny one, O-Ryuu.”

The backpack on Tobi’s back too, laughed with a fuhaha.

On Ryuuko’s end, she found it upsetting for her embarrassment to be made fun of. She wanted to protest, but with Asamiya-kun here she couldn't talk to Baku.

Besides, seeing Tobi’s shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle his laughter, she somehow felt like none of that mattered anymore. Involuntarily, her face relaxed, and now even Ryuuko felt like laughing. She tried to hold it back, but it was no use.

“Fufu…”

Somehow she managed to hold back a stifled laugh. However, perhaps triggered by Ryuuko’s laugh, Tobi burst out a “Fu…” Ryuuko felt like screaming. Tobi had been trying so hard to hold it in. This was bad. She was getting pulled along.

“Hey man, what the hell…”

Asamiya clutched his stomach and began laughing loudly.

Ryuuko covered her face with both hands. She wasn't even sure in what way she was laughing right now. Baku grumbled, flabbergasted.

“This is beyond funny, it’s straight up weird now, you guys…”

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