#i checked the status just now and its just ??? fucking GONE????

[saiintofdiirt]

Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot.

notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy.

word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.

~~~~

Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.

Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.

Bleh.

“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”

“Did you know?” Parrot asks.

Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.

“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”

Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.

“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.

[_Kenadian_]: where are you?

“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”

[_Kenadian_]: wifies

[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you

“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”

[_Kenadian_]: wato

[Wato1876]: Hey!

[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies

[Wato1876]: No?

[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?

[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages

[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/

[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him

[_Kenadian_]: thx

“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.

“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”

“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”

“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.

“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”

“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.

The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.

“So you did know!”

“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”

“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”

“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”

[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.

[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.

Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.

“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.

“No,” Parrot replies.

“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.

“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.

“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.

“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”

Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.

[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon

[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?

“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”

Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.

“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”

Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.

“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”

“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”

“He never says anything to me, he never—”

“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”

Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .

“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”

Ken pulls at his roots.

“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”

Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.

“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”

“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”

Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.

“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”

“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”

“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”

“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”

“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.

“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.

“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”

“Fine.”

Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.

“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.

“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.

“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.

The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.

[Parrotx2]: Ken

[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: not to you

[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies

[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts

[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy

[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing

[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him

[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do

[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up

[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal

[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy

[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared

[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone

[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.

[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general

[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch

[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways

[Parrotx2]: not the point

[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status

[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received

[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?

[Parrotx2]: he has every right

[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me

[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me

[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that

[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly

[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him

[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him

[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met

[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried

[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point

[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier

[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?

“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.

“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.

[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.

[Parrotx2]: sorry

[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now

[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you

[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow

“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”

[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry

[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows

[_Kenadian_]: just

[_Kenadian_]: give him some space

[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you

[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny

[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry

“Ken!!”

[Parrotx2]: I

[Parrotx2]: what?

[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy

[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that

[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do

[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe

[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.

[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe

“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.

“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”

“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.

“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”

Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.

“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”

Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.

Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.

“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder. 

“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.

“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans. 

Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.

[storm-of-feathers]

Are you for fucking real.

[bindeds]

⊹・° ｡ㅤ BOYFRIEND VOX / LUCIFER / ALASTOR X FEM READER HEADCANONS ! — now i know alastor is aroace so i am once again making a post that acknowledges that as much as possible, meaning his headcanons can also be seen as platonic and his nsfw section doesn’t involve him engaging in the act of sex. i also made an aroace friendly headcanons post on alastor if you wanna check that out!

contains nsfw (+18) and it will be in a separate section <3 please credit me if you use these gifs!

mlist. request status.

VOX.

this man pampers the SHIT out of you and you cannot tell me otherwise. if you’re out walking in the streets of hell and you so much as look at a branded purse for a second longer than usual, it’s in your hands within the next five seconds. same goes for literally anything—clothes, shoes, sunglasses, books, anything you could want that isn’t a gadget, because he already gives you his latest models—only the finest for his girl.

he teleports to your phone screen whenever you ignore him, and you don’t tell him that you find it particularly endearing. the way he’s just so whiny for your attention that he’d act all petty and crash all your apps so you’re forced to look him in the face.

has the most funniest fucking pet names for you i just KNOW IT HAHA like think shrek’s prince charming. i just know that when you call him from a different room he’d definitely say shit like “just a second honey kisses!” like HAHAH I CAN’T GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD

DEFINITELY loves having you sit on his lap while he works. i just know this man is a thigh grabber.

he loves when you dress in sweater vests, preferably in brighter colors but it’s cute when you use more muted colors as well.

relating back to my first point, this man loves taking you to extravagant AND I MEAN extravagant dates. i imagine one of them would be getting the both of you a literal floating table in the red skies of hell so you can see the entire pentagram from where you dine. he would have the food freshly delivered from the finest chefs he knows but he also seems like the type who would forget your favorite food, then demand that the food switched out with a snap of his fingers.

i’m judging this purely off of ‘stayed gone’ but he has a TON of terrible jokes up his sleeves, and they border on dad jokes at this point. you simply roll your eyes and kiss him for being so silly.

i just know this man comes home to you and WHINES. like, no matter what it is, he’ll always have something to complain about from work and you’re happy to listen to him bitch and moan about the smallest things ever. he also lays down on your lap and you to rub his shoulders and console him, whatever it is. you know he appreciates it because he usually always responds with something along the lines of “you’re right, baby, i do push myself too hard!” and you coo at him while continuing to console him further.

VOX NSFW !

i know he definitely gets irritated when someone interrupts his work but would be so into having sex on the job, and even loves ignoring calls from the vees for you. but of course doing it one too many times has its consequences, and he laughs nervously the one time he backs out. i can just imagine him going, “oh, haha, uh—sorry baby, i uh—listen i know we usually—it’s—FUCK um—just—just five minutes okay baby?”

i know this man’s hickeys feel like tiny zaps on your skin, and the marks reflect that instead of bruises

regarding the ‘sitting on his lap’ thing … you tried riding his thigh once and he DID NOT like that. seconds after you were sitting on his cock, crying his name from how he was just pumping into you mercilessly.

“still wanna tease me on my own fucking thigh, sweetie?” he clicks his tongue and grunts right after, his hands on your waist was enough to leave bruises.

that being said, he makes sure valentino never catches sight of you. the things you do to this man is beyond anything he could have thought and somehow, he feels uneasy at the fact that the way you have sex with him was DEFINITELY porn worthy and the thought of you being on camera in that way makes him want to wrap all of himself around you like a blanket to cover you from all of hell.

LUCIFER.

ironically, this man does NOT give you the world. instead, he gives you casual nights out turned into nights where you share all your secrets with him, and he tells you everything might not be okay now, or ever, but whatever it is, he’ll be right there with you. think going to your favorite diners, cruising and carpooling along the quieter side of hell, screaming at the top of your lungs. this man is all about authenticity. he wants the bond, not the experience.

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spoil you every now and then—he definitely does research on the best bars in the ring and takes you out every month during your monthsaries and gets you at least 10 different gifts—half of which are little trinkets you and him picked up from your little adventures together.

unironically so fucking good at picking out jewelry for you. you don’t know how he does it, but every time you both visit a jewelry store, you always pick out necklaces and rings and he always comes to you with pieces that just look way more stunning on you. he always insists on being the one to slip the rings onto your fingers or chain the necklaces at the back of your neck, and he always flies up to do it.

he sometimes visits you as a bird and flies through your window. you like stroking his little cheek and it always causes him to transform suddenly which catches you off guard, and he uses this opportunity to kiss you.

he makes rubber duckies modeled after you!! all of them have different outfits from all the times you spend together.

forehead touches. so important for him, he does it so often and it’s nothing short of endearing.

this man COOKS and he COOKS WELL. every now and then when you both stay home he always whips up five-star restaurant grade steak for you, same goes for his carbonara, fish and chips, ramen, fried rice, stew—whatever it is, he loves making it with his own two hands and loves cooking for you.

lucifer makes his own clothes seeing as his hat has a gold snake and an apple on it which only really related to him, and he also has a unique circus vibe to his clothing. he made his clothes out of magic but after meeting you he wanted to get into sewing to make you something from scratch.

LUCIFER NSFW !

i absolutely agree with a lot of lucifer stans on him being a definite switch BUT i just know that if this man tops, he tops HARD. i mean, we’re talking about the angel who successfully seduced not just the FIRST WOMAN to ever exist, but the SECOND TOO. WHILE SHE WAS LOYAL TO ADAM. I FEEL LIKE THAT SPEAKS FOR ITSELF

he’d definitely do a multitude of things while trying out a few kinks to see just what kind of top flusters you. if you like service tops, he found out when he insisted on fingering you right after he’d brought you to orgasm with his tongue. dominant top? he found out when he crawled on top of you and said, “take it off for me, lovely.” all while leaving a trail of hickeys all from your jaw all the way down to your collarbone. the list goes on.

no matter if he tops or bottoms, this man begs, and its especially orgasm-worthy when he does it as a bottom. you’re riding him to your own climax and he’s close too and he goes, “ohhh god fuck please let me cum honey—let me cum please fuck! can i cum can i cum my love? i won’t until you say so oh fuck please baby—”

he knows when you’re pent up. apparently you give of a certain set of cues through body language only he sees and he’s observed it from you in all sorts of situations; going out with friends, sitting in bed with a book, tapping a pencil to your lip—it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. he can tell. and he never tells you how.

seeing as he usually has to fly up to kiss you on the lips, he takes every opportunity he has in bed just to kiss you. he could be going so damn rough on you that the neighbors can hear and he’d still be making out with you so damn hard.

definitely prides himself on cunnilingus. i know everyone mentions this because of the v he made to his lips but it just makes sense for him to do that if he’s good at it! he becomes a grunting, begging, whimpering mess when you suck him off but when he eats you out? you compare it to how restaurants have a signature dish—lucifer’s is whatever miracles he can perform with his tongue.

ALASTOR.

i think this is obvious because he literally hosts possibly the most famous radio broadcast in the entire ring, but this man has a way with words.

“to put it simply my dear, i just never thought the stars could walk on dirty streets, let alone ones that belong in hell,” he sighs with an almost dreamy tone to it as he rested chin on his knuckles, leaning closer to you from the other side of the table with his elbow propped up on it. “but it seems you’re living proof of that.”

you took that as his way of explaining his aromanticism and asexuality to you, even if he isn’t fully aware of those terms yet.

“how did a lovely thing like you end up with a gruesome animal such as myself?”

nonetheless, you and him are partners and he owns it, even if he’ll never admit that it is daunting for someone who has never felt this way about anyone else before. someone who has never liked anyone romantically before. he owns it because he doesn’t want the one person he’s ever loved to slip from his grasp. not when he was just so used to getting what he wants using his own bare hands.

seeing as he is aroace, he doesn’t kiss you directly on the lips but hugs you all the time and maybe kisses cheek-to-cheek.

he listens to your gossip and even arranges dates for you both to properly get together and just dish. he gossips back sometimes too, but not too much as he feels like that would be like treating you like the other friends he has. he’d rather spend this time he has with you focusing on, well, you, not other people’s foolish mistakes. but he sees how excited you are to tell him these things sometimes so, he listens still.

regularly slow dances with you, especially to old romantic songs the both of you like. it’s one of the rare times physical contact doesn’t feel foreign to him as he’s danced with many women, and he actually finds it endearing when you press your head on his chest. it shows that you feel safe around him, and that’s the best thing that could happen for him when you’re dating one of the most feared and powerful overlords in hell.

always does house chores with you even though he could use his powers to just speed up the process. something about cleaning up together just feels so intimate to him compared to physical touch.

ALASTOR NSFW !

he hates being touched, no question about that—but he also doesn’t like to see you pent up. he understands that everyone has their own desires, however filthy they might be—but your own are as good as sacred. you’re the one thing he treasures beyond all others and just as you can’t change the fact that he’s aroace, he can’t change the fact that you have needs.

so he comes up with something just for you; he asks if it would help if he talked you through it. praising or degrading you, whichever you prefer. telling you how much he misses having your hands on his, feeling you close to him. when he says this, he imagines you both dancing as you usually do, but of course, as you masturbate, you’re thinking of something else. this happens when he’s not in the room but he leaves his mic behind to act as a phone for the both of you.

“are you close, love? will you finish for me?” “y-yes …” “good girl.”

i imagine after a while of being with him, he would have seen you naked a few times on accident but he brushes it off well because there’s never anything sexual tied to it. so, when he is in the room while you get off, he’d use his powers to have a glowing green chain around your neck as he pulls your face closer to his.

“do you like it when i do this to you, hm? tell me just how much you relish being my good girl.”

[opal-owl-flight]

Quick lore question, did marie considering the idea of replacing 4 play into the insecurities she has later?

Absolutely.

I wanna preface this by saying one thing: Young 4 was a COMPLETELY different person before she got recruited by Marie. And Marie...responds to her accordingly.

Long read abt Hero2 events below!! Its. A lil messy sorry qisjke these are my notes

Young 4? A bitch.

Everything she ever wanted was given to her. Moved out of the highlands with an ego the size of a planet (and also bc she felt suffocated there), thinking she can make it in the big city.

...she struggled to make it alone. She had moved out bc her family was suffocating her with love, but now theyre not here, so now she feels homesick and underappreciated.

All that is expressed by her harsh, bitchy attitude. Shes gonna be mean bc no one has seen her for who she is. She'll show them!!

She finds her way around like this, and discovers that shes just as good at turf war here and at home. In fact, shes *so* good that she got the status of a rising star!

It aaalll just gets into her head. Shes "proven everyone wrong" now. Shes got the superiority complex and can back it up.

Marie...

...saw this. She was looking for a new agent to help find the missing zapfish. The second 4 heard this from her, she flexed her arms and...

"Look no further, your hero is RIGHT HERE!"

Marie at first adored the spunkiness of this new agent. Uuuntil 4 started thinking that shes better than her.

"Watch out, Agent Four!"

"You watch YOURSELF, grandma! Think Im a damn idiot to not see that coming? WAHA!"

Marie rolled up her sleeves after several stages full of her ignoring orders or sassing her out of nowhere.

Is that how shes gonna be? Fine.

When 4 finally trips and falls, hard, on a particularly difficult level, Marie pulls her to the side to fix her up and give her a lecture that tore her fucking ego to shreds.

She says something so fucking harsh like "That attitude will make SURE that you die sad and alone. I wonder how anyone puts up with you."

4s too hurt by her own failure to say anything back.

The reality of war finally gives her a reality check. Each victory is earned. its her life on the line. And the world.

She regains her spunk after saving the world.

------

Silly 4. She gets the job done but it takes a LOT of pushing in the mid-stages. Its like she got legitimately bored after the initial super easy ones, and thought the entire campaign a joke.

She went back to her turfing life topside between stages. And she takes a WHILE to come back to her missions -- usually late!! And then before she even goes in she just HAS to yak Marie's face off with what she was doing up there.

"Youre late."

"You shouldve SEEN ME, Marie!! I was carrying that Rainmaker round! I was-"

"Pray tell, Agent Four. How will you keep participating in turf with the Zapfish gone?"

"Whaat? Cmon. Nothing seems to be changing! Theres still power through the city!"

"The backup supply wont last forever, you know."

"Yeah yeah. Okay. Im here now. Wheres the next kettle?"

This attitude is from her high school days, clearly. She breezes by everything so fast that she can afford to do things last minute. It affects even this.

That, alongside her talking smack back to Marie, is what makes her snap at 4. Its what makes 4 stick to the mission fully starting late area 4 and area 5. (This is also around the time 4s life was threatened. God help me in those stupid platforming stages)

Post Hero2, 4 more or less does what 3 does. Shes the "replacement" til 3 comes back. (That cant be good for her confidence.)

At the same time, she has to deal with Callie and Marie talking out what the fuck Callie did with Octaria. "THEY SQUIDNAPPED GRAMPS!!!" and all. Why help them??? They get into squabbles where 4 was the unfortunate witness to. And peacemaker. It does NOT help that Callie for a while kept putting the glasses back on!!!

4 wishes so bad she had help of any sort. She feels 3 might be able to do something but what does she know?? Shes never met em!! She just imagines what the missing agent would do in that situation.

Callie...was also the person she got close to. Shes fun (unlike the stuck up Marie), shes empathic, she opened 4s eyes to the Octarian plight. It made her acceptance of 8 later much smoother.

Im not saying shes not close to Marie either, I bet they healed their relationship around this year too. Marie's sorry she tore 4s ego the way she did (even if deserved...). Marie's much more supportive of what 4s doing topside. Shes expressing her pride in the agent she found much more openly. (She brags abt her to Callie at times.)

The three of them heal together in that time. 4 sees them as older sisters Im p sure. Theyre both giving her tips for turfing and -- Marie even helps her with homework, HAH

And...while I say that 4 and Marie are in better terms, there are still days where Marie blows up on her. Lesser extent than before, but shes *worried* for her agent! (Its a similar plight 3 has.) In those times, its Callie who has her back. ("Hey! Its not like shes not trying!!" Callie understands how it is, and she also knows Marie best -- shes the one who makes 4 understand where Marie is coming from.)

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Five -- The Conversation

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of but please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,324

Previous Part: Chapter Four -- Vox

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I've just had a lot of people asking for part five of this series.

The shadows released Alastor and Y/n in his old studio. They melted into the ground around them as Y/n smiled brightly, her eyes traversing the familiar space.

"Happy to be back?" Alastor asked, watching her excitment fondly and Y/n nodded.

"I most certainly am. This is the most fun I've had in ages."

"More fun than murder?"

"Fucking with Vox like that? Definitely more fun than murder. That was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time."

"That's why you're lucky to have me around."

"Hey, you're the one who left, not me. You don't need to convince me I like spending time with you. Rather, you are in a need to be proving your care for me I should think."

"Am I, my dear?" Alastor crooned, leaning in slightly with his hands behind his back.

"Yes, you are."

He laughed.

"Well, I will have to get on that."

As Alastor approached the desk, his horns sprouting in shadows from his head, she made her way over to the corner of the space covered in of pillows and blankets. Hitting the pillows, they released a cloud of dust. Y/n shrugged slightly, waving the dust away from her nose before sitting down.

Alastor held his microphone to his mouth, recommencing his recording.

"Lets begin." Alastor announced as he sat down in his chair and began fiddling with the knobs on the table, "I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone, tune on in."

Y/n spotted her old crocheting project she'd started seven years before and smiled. Taking it in her hands, she began to continue her previous work.

"When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run." Alastor continued, his demon form becoming even wilder and sharp at its edges.

"This will be fun." Y/n mused, watching him carefully.

Alastor turned to her, his smile sickeningly wide.

"Yes, it will be."

It was just like the old days. Alastor broadcasted his show while Y/n watched, working on whatever craft project was nearest to keep her hands busy. There was a deep seated comfort rising in her soul, a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in years.

Every once in a while over the course of his show, Alastor would turn his head back towards her. Y/n wasn't sure if he was checking in or making sure she hadn't left. Either way, she didn't care. After about three hours, Alastor at last signed off.

As soon as he hit the button that stopped his broadcast, Y/n placed her crocheting to the side. Getting to her feet, she walked over to him and took a seat on the desk, smiling brightly.

"What did you think, my dear?" Alastor asked, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at her.

"Amazing as always, Al. I swear, your voice was made for the air waves."

Alastor laughed lightly at this comment.

"I missed it. I missed you."

"I found myself missing you too, my dear. I had become so used to your constant presence, it was an odd thing to suddenly be alone."

"You like me!" Y/n teased in a singsong voice and Alastor smiled back at her, "Admit it!"

"Perchance. So, seven years." Alastor sighed.

"Seven years." Y/n confirmed.

"You work for an imp now? Seems an odd turn of events."

Y/n shrugged, turning her head to look out the window at the street far below.

"Blitzo is a friend. He helped me out a lot when you first left."

"So you joined his little team? How sinful, breaking the law and going to the living world to reap souls for paying customers."

Y/n turned back to him.

"I didn't realize you knew that much about what we did."

"I have my sources."

"Husk? Are your sources Husk? He's the only one that knows what it is I do now from the old crowd."

Alastor didn't reply.

"It's for sure Husk. How is he doing?"

"Y/n." Alastor warned, "Answer the question."

She sighed, kicking her legs slightly.

"I mean, nothing we do is technically legal." she admitted, "None of them have human disguises and our way to the human world is a book Blitzo stole from a fucking Goetia."

"You don't say." Alastor mused, "That would happen to have anything to do with this contract you're under."

Y/n's eyes locked with Alastor in silence. They glared sharply at one another in a battle of will. At last, Y/n relented.

"Yeah. It does."

"So, what is it? Why does a member of the Goetia family own your soul. Why is it that you have fallen so far."

"You really aren't gonna let this one go."

Alastor shook his head.

"Blitzo... well he was friends with the guy. Stolas, one of the Goetia princes in charge of the heavens or some shit. It's... Basically, I made a deal that if Stolas stays away from Blitzo and let us use the book, I would give him my soul."

"How altruistic. Though not unexpected from you, I suppose."

"It was only a few months after you left, Al. I couldn't take him on. Hell, you can't even take him on. He's a fucking Goetia. I did... I couldn't think of anything else. I did what I had to do to keep my friend safe."

"And why did he deserve your protection? He dug his grave and instead of lying in it, put you in."

"It's not his fault. Stolas got all weird with stuff and Blitzo was uncomfortable. There's this big threat of him tattling on us he hangs over our heads at all times. I... Blitzo did so much for me, Al. He helped me pick up the pieces of my life when it was clear you weren't coming back. I've become better now, stronger but back then, it was all I could do for him."

Alastor opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Y/n's phone buzzing.

"Sorry, gimme a second."

Alastor eyed the device in irritation as she pulled it from her pocket. Whatever was on the screen dampened her mood even further than their conversation had. She jumped down off the table, hurriedly typing something out on her phone.

"Shit, Al. I have to go, I'm sorry."

"Work?"

"Sorta."

"Ah. Your deal. Why does he not just pull you to him like a normal demon would."

"Well," Y/n began, sliding her phone back into the pocket of her dress, "first off, he's a hellborn not a demon. And second off he has this weird thing about being wanted? Well, not weird. Everyone wants to be wanted just like, he doesn't want to force me to come. At the same time, he knows if he asks for me, I have to. It's... he's complicated, Alastor. It's complicated."

"I could kill him for you. Make it a whole lot less complicated."

Y/n laughed.

"Thanks hun but I don't think even you could manage that one."

"You could make a deal with me, that would most likley cancel it out."

"And have you own my soul? No, I've seen how that pans out for people. I think I'll pass."

"Just a suggestion, my dear."

"Is it? You've been trying to make a deal with me since I first met you, Al. I feel like you shoulda caught the hint by now."

"It was worth a try." he shrugged.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Why is it you want my soul so badly anyways?"

"No reason. No reason at all."

"Yeah. I totally believe that."

Y/n's phone dinged again and she pulled it once more from her pocket. At the sight of the words on the screen she sighed, her brow furrowing in irritation.

"Pushy pushy." she hummed, "Look, I gotta go. I'll be back later."

And with those parting words, Y/n disappeared through the studio's door.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Six -- Stolas

[quintessencewrites]

Y-yes, Daddy pt. 3

college student!ShuRiri x college student!black!fem!reader

Her eyes sent the message that her lips didn’t; they couldn’t, too busy being bitten to the flesh between Riri’s perfect rows of teeth, the gold on her lower set mirroring the gold around her neck.

Warnings: (buckle up, there are a few) 18+!!!!! Smut HEAVY, dom! Shuri, switch! reader, switch! Riri, cuckold? voyeurism, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader/ Riri receiving). rough sex (reader/Riri receiving), public sex? explicit language (as always), double penetration (not saying who, it's a surprise), anal sex (not saying who), heavy praise kink, slight illicit drug use, strap slinging! all three of them... etc because I know I missed a few...

Word count: 8.4k+

Tags:

@percsane @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot @6-noir @kya-rose @saintwrld @someshuriposts @jessiap @ilikegecos @iiluvl4n @katymae12344 @shurismainbxtch @crookedsaladlover @motheroffae @saintwrld @marsolgy @ogbells16 @verachii @shuriszn @playgurlxoxo @ashleighshaw @te-23 @dominquesheart @shuridefenselawyer @iminlovewithdomandtish @limbozqueen @cansah2002-blog

A/N: Y'ALL!!! I'M BACK <3 I don't know how to thank you guys enough for checking in on me while I was gone and giving me such grace while I got myself together a bit <3 I love you guys

Dedicated to my baby, @inmyheadimobsessed, Yes Daddy's biggest fan, president of the fan club, and one of my biggest supporters. She also gave me an idea for one of the scenes in this so co-writing status goes to her <3 Anyways ily, Lyric. As always, I hope I did you justice.

The cobalt waters glistened around your figure, swaying to and fro with a serenity unlike any you’d experienced. Eyes closed, face warm from the sun’s rays kissing your skin, Wakanda was a beauty to behold, with such vibrancy in its colors and its people. 

Its marketplace was adorned with rich tapestries, the palace was picturesque. The rivers that flowed through the heart of the capital flowed the bluest blue you’d ever seen; the grass was too green, the sand too yellow. 

“You grew up here? Shuri, it's fucking beautiful. Why would you ever leave?”

Riri’s hand never left yours, excitement traveling back and forth between your bodies. “I’d asked her the same thing, baby.”

“It’s unreal. It’s cartoon-like, like the trees and flowers, even the fucking sky, were painted that bright.”

Shuri couldn’t deny the pride that swelled within her at your awe of her home. She’d experienced it with Riri the first time she brought her over, and now, with you, her heart skipped a few beats just the same.

Your mouth dropped at every spectacle, arms wide, ready to engulf every new person. Merchants shared your contagious grin when you approached their displays, excitement beaming across every feature on your face. 

“Princess, Miss Williams,” they greeted. They’d nod in return, dropping a wave or two every now and again.

Shuri fell into your forestep, presenting a beam just as wide. Her usually too-cool demeanor dissipated the moment her sandaled foot touched the Wakandan dirt. Even Riri couldn’t deny the peace that the country brought forth from her. Her shoulders fell, relaxed for the first time in weeks as the stress of midterms and exams and assignments finally evaporated. 

 The princess hadn’t anticipated taking you home to meet ma dukes so soon, but you were ready. 

“Wakanda? Why?”

You rolled your eyes, an exasperated sigh floating from your lips and through the air. Riri sat on the other side of your dorm room, man spread with a wrap between her fingers, preoccupied, but still tuning in. “I told you, y/n.”

“Hush, Ri. She ain’t even say no yet.”

“I’m waiting to hear why before I say no.”

Upon your face were the biggest, roundest, neediest eyes Shuri had ever seen. Your bottom lip protruded into a plump little pout that quickened the pace of her heart. In her mind, she’d already lost. Regardless of the reason, she wasn’t going to be able to deny that look.

“Because it's spring break, I’m tired of the same old beach trips, and I’ve never been,” you walked closer, until your bosom rested on her stomach, eyes batting up at her with sweetness. “What better tour guide than the Princess?”

“Give it up, baby. Ain’t no way she gon say yes that ea-”

“Shut up, shortie. What better tour guide than the Princess, right?”

Shuri made plans to take you to her home that very night.

You were ready to visit the fairytale-like land; the very place where the rumors of its grandeur couldn’t even do it justice. The place where vibranium ran through its streets and every shade of brown sparkled under the sun's rays like a spotlight on the deserving natives. 

You were ready to meet their monarch, the powerful woman whose monologue at the State of the Union address those few years ago still gives you goosebumps. The awe-inspiring mother who raised such a capable daughter, so unlike herself and allowed her off to the States. 

You were ready to put a face to the names Shuri and Riri spoke of, those who were oceans away and still held such a prominent place in their worlds, one which you wished to be a part of. 

Thank Bast, or God, or fate, or whatever the hell it was for placing you at MIT at the same time as Shuri and Riri. Their pervertedly twisted minds complimented yours so beautifully, like the missing piece in a complex puzzle. 

 Nerves didn’t dare touch you when the Queen greeted you, slender, loving arms pulling you in, holding you tight, and giving you a motherly love you hadn’t felt in quite some time. 

“Y/n,” the older royal’s voice was booming. “Shuri, umhle (she’s beautiful).”

“Ndiyazi (I know), mother.”

“Grinnin’ like a dummy” Riri’s voice was a barely-heard whisper, not risking her words to be heard by the well-respected monarch. 

Shuri's eyes threw daggers at the small girl, an even smaller smile playing at her lips. She felt such serenity at your acceptance of her country that not even Riri’s words would get to her. 

The young royal wanted so badly to praise you, to kiss you, to shower you in the melody of ‘good girls’ that you deserved. 

Slender fingers snaked around your exposed waist, rippling the water around you and pulling your mind back to the present. Your lids lulled open, meeting a familiar gaze in the foreign place.

“Hey, ma.”

 The scent of cocoa butter radiated off you in an aura. Riri inhaled deeply, taking it in, entangling her brain with your essence in a dizzying spell. You were so soft under her touch, your chocolate-colored skin melting in her hands.

Her head was heavy against your shoulder, pushing her weight against yours until your back was pressed into the damp marsh of the riverbank. 

The lifting of your hand and caressing of her curls was instinctual and Riri softened even further underneath your fingertips. She’d been wanting this for hours; just to fall into your hold, to grab you and know that you were really there. 

Barely an arm's length away stood your princess with Nakia, engulfed in a conversation of their own, paying you no mind. Okoye sat close by, only allowing her feet to be swallowed by the water’s gentle waves.

“I see the States are treating you well, Shuri?” Nakia’s light voice curved at the end of her sentence, a tease evident between her words. 

“What makes you say that?”

“You haven’t returned home yet is what.”

“I haven’t graduated yet, Okoye.”

A string of mumbles leaves the general’s mouth, laced with curses. “You’ve gotten greedy, Princess.”

Shuri leans over the shore, elbows resting in the sand. “Greedy how?”

“You went to America for school, not to become a sister-wife.”

The poor young royal can’t hold back the laughter that erupts from her. “A sister-wife?! What the fuck are you talking about, Okoye?”

“You need two girlfriends, Shuri?”

“I do.”

“For what?”

Shuri’s wandering gaze over to you and Ri is full of desire that spills over her ducts like a tear. “They both got something different to offer.” 

Riri caught Shuri’s gaze from the corner of her eye. Of course, her majesty was watching you. She was always aware of what her girls were up to, both on and off campus. She saw the way Ri’s nails grazed the small of your back and the way your body curved upward in response, pressing your two figures into one another even further. 

She saw Riri’s hands travel further and further south, tickling your skin until they stiffened in the waistband of your bikini bottoms and came to a stop. Shuri’s breath caught in her throat, waiting and watching, wondering how far Riri would go considering the audience that surrounded them. 

Riri knew Shuri was watching. She wanted her to; she wanted her to see the effect she had on your body, without Shuri’s presence. She knew the panther could smell the heat radiating from your frame, pressed tightly against hers.

 So tight, so close that the chain that never left Ri’s neck was resting in your bosom. The chill of the metal contrasts with the humidity in the air and causes a shiver to travel down your spine.

It was such a slight movement, one that didn’t go unnoticed by either girl. Those mocha-colored eyes that you adored bore into yours, and baby, if only you could read the filthy thoughts behind them. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to. Riri wanted you and she wasn’t being slick about it. Her slender fingers toyed with your bottoms, one hand gently tugging the drawstring that held the thin pieced fabric together. The other grazed the front of your dangerously low waistband, touching your sensitive skin, but barely. 

“You’re so pretty, y/n, baby. I tell you that enough?”

“More than enough, Ri.”

Hmm, the distracted girl hums. “I like this swimsuit on you.” Her fingers don’t move from your waistline, playing and fiddling with the fabric there, tugging it away now and again. 

You wanted more; you craved more, and Riri didn't need to be a mind-reader to come to that conclusion either. Her eyes sent the message that her lips didn’t; they couldn’t, too busy being bitten to the flesh between Riri’s perfect rows of teeth, the gold on her lower set mirroring the gold around her neck. 

She cocked a thin brow and a devilish smirk played across her face. Her thin fingers continued to move, slowly and meticulously so that the water didn’t stir. 

Shuri caught the exact moment Riri succeeded in untying the dainty strings of your swimsuit. Her gaze traced your startled features when the fabric floated away from your body. 

“Riri, what the fuck?” It’s supposed to come out intimidating and intense, but the pitch of your voice and vibrato in your vocal cords melodizes a low moan from your lips instead. 

Underneath the still waters, from the waist down, you are completely naked. Everyone is oblivious; except Riri, whose actions were intentional, and Shuri, who was using every bit of restraint held in her slim frame to remain stoic.

“You gonna be good for me, baby? Good and quiet?” Riri’s lips brush the sensitive skin where lobe meets neck. In the back of your throat is a low moan, one that you know can’t be expelled. It stays tucked away and you nod instead, head barely moving, bobbing curls that can be explained away by the breeze. 

Shuri’s truly amused at the sight before her and the reaction it has on her body. She’s hypnotized by Riri’s fingers playing with you, gliding through your slit, brushing against your tender bud much too gently for your liking. The wetness in your folds can’t be deciphered from the wetness of the water, yet those bejeweled nipples that stood at attention, straining behind the padding of your top, exhibited the arousal that started in your toes and crept its way upward. 

She’s amazed at how little the water moves around you, eyes darting back and forth between you struggling to remain quiet and the conversation she held a part in with lifelong friends. Her mouth waters at the thought of you, so exposed. Thoughts of how fucking wet you must have been, how slick your pussy was, calling out for her. 

Your mind is muddled, completely ignorant of the extra set of eyes on you. Riri’s teasing you, never putting her long phalanges right where you want them. She’s taking her sweet time, mapping out every line, dip, and curve of your core. Her touch is too light for your liking as the neediness in the pit of your stomach expands. 

She’s got a few moments left in this game of cat and mouse before you break and the moan you try to disguise as a cough tells her just that. 

Shuri’s eyes wander back over at the sound she knows all too well. She couldn’t help but smirk at the noise. The heat she burns into the back of Riri’s head causes the distracted girl’s head to turn, resting her gaze on the princess’s watchful glare.

Ri’s brow raised once more in a silent question to Shuri, one that you weren’t able to decipher. 

Too bad for you. 

She doesn’t even look at you as her dark eyes drag slowly down Riri’s small frame and back up. Her chiseled face is unreadable to you and with a nod, a quick tilt of her chin towards the sky,  Ri reaches for your bottoms, dragging them back between your two bodies. 

“Lemme help you put these back on, baby,” Her whisper is so low, it’s almost nonexistent. 

Your sigh in response is frustrated, so sexually frustrated, just oozing an attitude Riri wants no part of. “You fucking tease-”

Her hand leaves the water, snaking around your chin and drawing your faces together. 

“I’m not done yet, baby. Just listen, damn.”

The chill behind her words shut you up immediately. Silence washes over you as your choppy movements ripple in the water, too quick for Nakia and Okoye to notice anything but your smiles, plastered across your face like a mask.

Shuri’s stifled laughter reeks of “I know.” The way she looks at you, so deep, so suggestive makes it clear she knows exactly what you two were up to. Her voice pulls her friend's attention back to her, those glistening coffee-bean-hued eyes dancing with knowing. 

“Nakia, how is my little Toussaint?” 

Riri’s body emerges from the river first, bottoms hanging so low on her waist, the indent where her abs meet her pelvis winks at you. Her hand reaches down, extending to you and the little effort it takes for her to lift you from the water is beyond impressive. 

Your drenched swimsuit runs streaks of water down your body, glistening against your dark skin like glitter. Your steps falter, the quiver from your heat making its way down your legs and tripping you. Riri guides your walk back to the palace, a ‘goodbye’ to Shuri barely playing on your lips as she lingers. Squelching emits from your soaked steps, following Ri’s quick ones. 

Goosebumps prickle your skin at the icy air in the palace, the large place still maze-like to you. Riri, however, is an expert guide. She makes every turn with precision, every array of large doors leading somewhere. 

Her steps suddenly stop, in the nook of a long hallway. Yours skip a bit, not expecting her sudden standstill, and her cool hands, still damp and shriveled from the water, reach for your bicep, pulling you into her. 

“Ri-what?”

Her lips crash into yours, kissing you the way she’s craved all day. They’re moving in sync, tasting every crook of her mouth, entangling your tongues, and swapping saliva. The moan that remained trapped in your throat finally releases, deep and breathy between her lips.

“Couldn’t wait til we got to the room. Need you, now.” 

The way Riri’s hands travel your body, the way they hunger to hold you, squeeze you, anywhere, everywhere. It’s fucking intoxicating, coating your mind like a drug.

“W-wait, fuck, Ri,” her lips move from yours, trailing down your jaw, licking up your neck in such a way that you shudder. She’s famished now, having had a taste of you, and she needs more. Her lips attack your throat, nipping and biting. You’re close, so close to melting in her arms, right then and there.

“Come on baby, you know my name and it ain’t Ri. Say it.”

There was a part of you that hated the effect their vulgar words had on you. They were so lewd, so perverted, and they had such a fucking hold on you. The dampness in your bottoms couldn’t be explained away solely by your swim any longer and Riri knew it. She could feel your body temperature rise, your skin growing warmer under her touch. 

“Ma-”

She tasted the word from your lips, growling at what they did to her. She couldn’t keep her hands off you, overwhelmed, not knowing where to grab. They rested on your right breast, squeezing, but she removed them quickly, afraid that your left one would grow envious at the lack of attention it was receiving. Caressing your back didn’t feel exact either; your front being so soft- there it was, begging for her fingertips to sink into it as well. 

Riri’s mind was racing an unwinnable race. What if the Queen was around, or the Dora? What if her body broke, fucking fell apart, needing so much of your touch that it couldn’t be satisfied by the little bit you were offering up?

Your still-wet (now even wetter) bikini bottoms were glued to your skin. The effort it took for Riri to pull them away from you, to pull them to the side just enough to reveal your pussy to her left water dripping to the stone floor beneath you. 

She wasted no time. Fuck all the teasing she did before, Riri fucking needed you. Her lips were on yours once more as she lined up two fingers at your entrance, preparing herself to swallow the moans that would spill from your lips. 

And swallow them she did, keeping your lips connected until she was knuckles deep, only coming up for air once your moans had died down to whimpers. 

“My good girl, baby. I know you can be quiet, right?”

You weren’t so sure. As soon as those digits got to moving, you knew that biting your tongue would be a near-impossible task. 

“C’mon, baby. Gotta be quiet so I can fuck you good.”

How pathetic was it, the way obedience ran through your veins? Your nod was hard, curls bouncing back in forth. “I’ll be quiet, ma,” the words quickly followed before Ri could correct you for not using them.

You felt your knees buckle beneath you the moment her slender fingers slid out of your wet center, only to be thrust in once more. What a beautiful pattern, one that left a warmth spreading through your body, face hot, cheeks hot, cunt hot. 

Ri knew your body better than no other, though she and Shuri were neck and neck. Her free hand had already slithered around your waist and her center of gravity shifted, preparing herself to catch you if your legs were to give out entirely. 

Your bottom lip was rolled between your teeth, moans collecting behind it. You were a sight to be fucking seen, a pussy full of creamy fingers, and eyes that begged and pleaded for more. 

“Look at you, baby. You doing such a good job, taking me like that.”

Riri was enjoying the sight before her, the tightness of your walls, clenching around her. She almost drooled when she looked down and saw the cum she was digging forth from you, collecting in the palm of her hand. Even she had to resist a moan as the need to taste you, to fuck you, to ruin you crossed her mind. 

The fingers trapped within you would not speed up, nor slow down, much to your demise. Your hips rocked, pelvis crashing back against Riri’s hand as you rode her. Whispered moans were shared between you, lewd praises being thrown your way. 

“Shit, baby, you doing so good. Look at you, fuck.”

Low moans were all you could respond with.

“You gon ride me like this in the room, pretty girl? Gon let me get strapped up and watch you bounce on my dick?”

Fuck, Riri’s words had opened the floodgates. She could feel you tightening and convulsing around her fingers. Your moans had grown at that point, but she couldn’t stop you, Your head was thrown back, so her lips couldn’t cover yours. She couldn’t use her hands either; one of them was holding up your limp figure, the other, still being ridden into the sunset. 

You’d earned those moans, she decided, and as soon as you were done, the trek to your room would continue. 

All Riri could do was watch as her fingers tipped you over the edge. Your chest strained against your top, rising and falling with every gasp; those lips, round and full and so fucking biteable, parted and poised as you came. 

A sea of thoughts swam through Riri’s pretty mind, not a single one of them an intelligent one. There wasn’t a moment when she didn’t think you were stunning, but baby, when you came? Ugh, it fucking did things to her, bringing forth groans from her chest. 

Your brows furrowed, your body stilling and Riri’s hand was drenched. “Ohh, shit-” Your voice shook, just as unsteady as your legs, but Ri had you. 

“I know, baby, I know.”

You were a bit louder at this point, your voice echoing off the tall walls. Riri wasn’t religious, but she was truly praying to Bast that no one would wander upon you two. 

Her thighs were pressed together, her body shaking a bit, still in the wet swimsuit. You didn’t even have to touch her for her body to react. Just watching you, so vulnerable, so needy, all over her-just for her. 

Your head rocked back up slowly, eyes finally meeting Ri’s. A deep blush grew in your chest and rose to your face. Riri’s was adorned with a sexy smirk, one so delicious. 

“Good girl, baby.” 

You had made Riri soft and she hated to admit it. She’d never been so gentle to someone, so tender. 

“You ready to keep walking?” She plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, pairing it with one on your neck, nuzzling her head into the sensitive space.

“How much further we got?”

She pulls her head from you and glances down the hall. “Um, not too far.”

Mm, you groan. “Do we have to? You could just take me right here.”

Riri’s chuckle is so deep and alluring. “Don’t tempt me, baby. C’mon, it’s not that far.”

“Carry me?”

She couldn’t tell you no. You knew she couldn’t. Neither of them could, especially Riri. You were spoiled in every sense of the word, and they’d stopped trying to deny you. Why should they? 

“Bridal style or piggyback?”

Your dark eyes danced with joy as she trekked through the halls, you upon her back with a goofy ass grin. 

She was right, it really wasn’t that far. 

The bed bounced when Riri finally dropped you on it, legs spread wide, bosom bouncing with the fall. 

Ri tapped your pussy through your bottoms, standing to retrieve her suitcase. “Off, baby.”

You were eager, the fabric still sticking to your skin, falling to the floor with the weight of the water drenching them. Your damp pussy came into view to the girl across the room, whose breath caught in her throat at the delicious sight.

She watched you sit up and untie the strings to your top, the barely-there piece falling from your body. You watched her visibly drool when your breasts come into view, full and round, nipples erect, begging to be touched in any way.

You had her, every bit of her attention was on you, waiting so patiently for her to touch you.

Patience had never been your virtue, however. 

Your hands stuttered as they traced up your body, your nipples hardening at the sensation. With fingers you wanted so badly to be Riri’s, that you imagined were hers as she watched you from a small distance. 

The piercings adorning your bosom were one of her favorite parts of you. If her pupils could form tiny hearts, they would have. The sight before her was mouthwatering. Your fingers flicked the jewelry, that perfect little “O” forming on your lips. 

The heat in the air was palpable, the intimacy between you two undeniable. 

Your left breast weighed heavy in your hand as you brought it up, further and further until your tongue flicked out, eyes never parting from hers while you tasted your hard nipple and the metal pierced into it. 

Every bit of her demeanor cracked under the sexiness that was you. She stood frozen, in awe as you rose from the bed, strutting towards her on your toes, ass high, head even higher. 

You bent into her suitcase, finishing the task she’d abandoned. The harness was tucked away into the bottom, hidden beneath weeks worth of clothes. 

Still on your knees, you grab Riri behind hers, pulling her closer, until her clothes pussy sat in your face. “Here, lemme help you.”

The wet suit was already hanging so low on her waist that it only took a tug to drop them, her pretty, wet cunt coming to view in front of you. 

Your mouth is on her before you can resist the urge. She accepts your hands on her ass, holding her in place against your tongue. 

Riri’s hand rests on your head, trying so hard to keep her balance and not collapse. Your mouth goes to work, the taste of her satisfying your insatiable hunger. Her clit is so plump against your tongue, the sensitive bulb of nerves twitching, jumping away from the licks that won’t let up. 

“You taste so good, mami,” the urge to please fueled a courage unfamiliar to you. Riri bucked at your words, eyes rolling into her head. 

“Shit-“ the moans came from her in rapid succession, her lungs never fully expanding to take in a complete breath. They were music to your ears. Your pussy leaked, needing to be stuffed full of her. 

You couldn’t part from her just yet. Her hands tangled in your hair, gripping and pulling. Your name was on her tongue, her abs flexed with the orgasm building within her. 

“Shit, baby, you doing so good.”

The praises rang in your ear, satisfying something deep within you. You lapped faster, sucking and slurping. Riri’s pussy was wet, the vulgar sounds echoing in the room. 

She was close-so fucking close. The juices that poured from her were streaming, dripping onto your tongue with a taste that you couldn’t get enough of. Her body burned, needing to feel you everywhere. 

Ri’s thick thighs trapped your head between them, drowning you in the waters that she released, so warm and sweet. Your satisfied moans vibrated within her and though your jaw grew sore, you weren’t stopping. 

Not until you’d planted a passionate kiss to her center, tonguing it as though those lips would kiss you back. 

She watched you stand to your full height with a look full of lust. Oh, she was gonna fuck you up. Riri no longer cared who heard; she needed to hear you scream her name, she needed the bed to be soaked and she needed you to spill over for her time after time. 

“Strap up, Ri.”

The harness had gone from your hand to hers as you backed away, returning to her suitcase to choose the dildo you so craved.

“Where’s mine?”

There were at least six toys, all stored away from any wavering eyes. They were different shapes and sizes, different lengths and girths, all ones that you’d used before.

“Which one, baby?”

Ri wasn’t looking at you, too preoccupied with the straps around her hips and thighs. 

“The vibranium one-“

“They’re all vibranium, y/n.”

You made an audible sound when your teeth smacked your lips, one that Riri took note of. 

“The one I like the most, Ri.”

“I don’t know which one you talking bout, baby,” she stepped towards you, reaching into the bag to pull a thick piece from it, securing the toy to her pelvis. 

“Guess we gotta try them all, see if any of them are ‘yours’.”

She sat on the bed, resting on her forearms, arm held out and welcoming you over. Your steps were slow, and when you were finally close enough, Ri grabbed your waist, pulling your legs on either side of her hips. 

“This how I like you most, pretty girl.”

You hovered over the thick cock awaiting you. Riri’s hands on your backside, eyes scanning you. She brought your hands to her chest and tilted her hips upwards. 

“Sit on it, baby.”

Her whispered commands floated softly to your ears and you groaned at them as the heat burned within your chest. Your pretty lips parted over the tip of her dick, her hands guiding your body onto the extremity. 

Ri was biting on her lip so hard, she was afraid it would bleed, but the sight of you would be worth it. Your body lowered, further and further and she could feel your pussy stretching over the thickness of her cock. She could feel your warmth as her tip kissed your cervix and your pelvis kissed hers. A deep groan rumbled in the back of her throat.

Your pussy felt so full. Beneath you, your legs quivered, the tightness of Riri in your cunt weakening you. “Ohh, fuck-”

Riri gave you a moment to get adjusted, lifting your hand to kiss the palm before resting it back above her chain, the metal cool compared to the heat emitting from your bodies. “Move, baby. Bounce on this shit.”

You weren’t one to be told twice. Knees planted, toes digging into the mattress, you gave her what she wanted. The faux dick slid in and out of you, slurping with your wetness. Ri’s head is thrown back, mouth wide open. “Fuck, baby-”

Riri was something to behold. Her brows furrowed, forehead pulled tight in concentration. Each time you landed back on her cock, your ass slapped her thighs and the sound vibrated through the room.

“S-so good, ma. D-dick so fucking good.” You were already stuttering between clenched teeth. It felt so good, so right. Riri fit into you like she was made for you. Your thighs started to burn, your speed picking up, throwing Riri’s small body into the bed each time your body slapped hers. 

“Griot, soundproof the room.”

Her African accent was thick and low and it shocked you to stillness. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“Ugh, baby-” Riri didn’t give a fuck who had entered. She already missed the feel of your pussy swallowing her cock.

Shuri sat on the loveseat adjacent to the bed. Her swimsuit had been swapped out for a black shirt and jean shorts, Her chains swung around her neck with each movement, her curls hanging lower in her face than usual, still weighed down by the water. 

“Who told you to stop, intombi entle (pretty girl)?”

She rested her elbows on her knees, hands folded before her. Her tongue flicked over her lips, moistening them before her canines sunk into them. 

“Ri, fuck her.”

Wakanda was doing a number on all of you because Riri did as she was told with no smartass comeback. Her hands grabbed your wrist, pulling them from her chest and restraining them behind you. Alarm bells rang in your head, but you ignored them, your body too excited for what was to come. 

You could feel Shuri’s eyes on your ass, anticipating Ri’s next movements. She fiddled for a moment, her thick cock sitting stuffed between your walls, jerking into you just slightly. You were leaking around her, growing wetter at the watching panther. 

Riri’s first thrust was anything but gentle. You bounced back down on her dick with the echoing sound of skin slapping skin. “Oh, my g-”

Your words are gagged in your throat, the next thrust coming quick and hard, cutting you off. Shuri’s eyes follow your body as Riri finds her rhythm. 

“You fucking her good, Ri. Look at her, just taking that shit.”

You and Ri share a moan at Shuri’s praises. She can’t wait until she can step in and get a taste. She’s allured by your bouncing breasts, so heavy and needy, the way they jump with your gasps and Riri’s movements. Your cunt is spilling onto Riri’s thighs, causing a stickiness between you two that the princess can’t wait to get her mouth on. 

Your movements sputter, cries growing louder, climbing higher. You feel Riri deep-its like she's in your stomach, the way she pounds into you. You’re clenching around her, squeezing your thighs, praying away your impending orgasm. You weren’t ready to cum yet. You didn’t want her to stop, Bast, you didn’t want this to stop. The lack of feeling in your legs was nothing compared to the feeling in between them.

“Ooh, pretty girl. You gon cum already?”

Words no longer exist in your mind so your head shakes in response. Shuri doesn’t move, fueling your flame from her front-row seat. “You not? That dick not good enough to cum on? My bed not good enough for you to flood?”

Riri is fucking drilling you. Her hips rotate into yours, her cock digging into parts of your cunt that you don’t think have ever been reached. 

“C-cum on m-me, baby,” Riri is breathless, her own orgasm fighting to get past the dam she has in place. “F-flood my shit.”

Their words are too much-they’re always too much. You could be on the edge of a cliff and their words would be what pushed you over. It did, every time, and this time was no fucking different.

Your cunt rains down on the girl beneath you, a scream trapped in your chest as she continues amidst the mess you’re making. 

“Fuck-” it drags from Riri’s mouth. She can’t hold it anymore. You’re just too warm, too wet, too tight. “I-shit, baby, c-can I cum in you?”

A nod is all she gets as confirmation and it's more than enough for her. Your eyes hit the back of your skull when you feel her warmth fill you, pushing around the cock that was still buried within your walls. 

“Ooh, fuck, ma-” your words find you, still gasped and low. 

You raise up on shaky legs that fail you. Riri releases from your pussy with a wet squelch and you fall beside her, body spent, legs sore. Both of you lay side by side for a moment, hoping for a few moments to recover, but Shuri is having none of that.

She stands from the chair, eyes stuck on your dripping cunt. It’s calling her and she saunters over, a “good fucking girl” falling from her parted lips. Her large hands hook beneath your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed with swift movements. 

Her head dips to your sore center, blowing gentle, cool air over your soaked lips. They’re so pretty, so puffy. You quiver beneath her, “W-wait, Shuri, I need a second-”

“I don’t care,” Her tongue is flat and wide, licking your entire core. The moan she releases at your taste is primal. Both you and Riri’s juices dance on her tongue, and it's better than any chef-made meal she’s ever had. 

The princess’s lips cup your clit and suck. Your back arches, throwing more of your wetness into her face and she accepts it graciously. You feel her everywhere down there-tongue stiffening and darting into your slit, nipping at your lips, kissing on your clit. 

Her tongue picks up speed, developing a pattern. It goes from left to right, up and down, in circles and drawing shapes. A square, a triangle, an S-H-U-

“D-did you just spell out your name?”

A big, stupid grin stretches her cheeks when she parts with your pussy. “I did. Good girl, picking up on that.”

Her praises bring forth a slight chuckle from you. “Why?”

“It’s mine; you’re mine.” She shrugs and her lips are warm and wet when they return to yours.

Riri is mesmerized, stomach heaving. “Can I taste?”

Shuri’s eyes may leave you, but her mouth does not. She beckons Ri over with a quick nod, tongue on your clit while her finger toys with your entrance.

You thought Shuri would move then and make way for Riri, but you were so fucking wrong, it was laughable. 

Two tongues, two wet mouths were on your pretty little cunt and it was heavenly. Shuri and Riri had your sensitive bulb trapped between their tongues as they tasted you, tasted each other. 

“Fuck, fuck, please-”

“Please what, baby?” Riri’s voice was muffled, her head still between your thighs. She wasn’t talking to you, though. Her words were directed to the glistening pussy stuffed in their faces, begging for them to tear it apart.

Fingers enter you and again, you didn’t know whose they were, but they were fucking you, deep, hard, so damn fast. “You squeezing me so fucking tight, baby, damn. Squeeze on my fingers, just like that. Look at you, you doing such a good job.”

“I-shit, mm, I w-wanna cum, pleaseeee-” That last syllable dragged through the air. It was too much. Fingers and tongues and mouths, everywhere. You couldn’t tell them apart, but it didn’t even fucking matter. They were going to bring you to your release, orgasm after orgasm. They weren’t planning on stopping, there would be no breaks. 

“Ooh, Shuri, she asked so nicely.”

Mhm, she moaned, too busy with your clit in her mouth. “Give her what she wants then.”

There was perfection in their movements. The two fingers curved into your cunt were rubbing your G-spot every time, the tongue on your clit further tangling the sensitive nerves behind it. Baby, you were so fucking close, you just needed one more thing-

The third finger in your pussy is what did it. 

“F-f-uck, I, coming, da-shit-” You were drunkenly incoherent. The feeling was overwhelming, so much so that it hurt. Your body needed to get away, but it couldn’t move, frozen in place as pleasure mixed with pain. 

Shuri and Riri were soaked, faces still deep between your thighs as you squirted before them. They devoured you, not letting a single drop go to waste. Your juices ran down their chins, glistened on their cheeks. It was so sloppy, so fucking messy, and it was delicious, the way they swallowed you.

Finally, your sap ran dry and your breathing evened out. Shuri flicked your bean with her tongue once more before she parted with it.

“Aye, Ri-”

Riri’s eyes departed your quivering cunt with a roll. “I swear to God, if you say I took that like a bitch, Imma-”

Shuri’s lips shut her up, pressing hard against Ri’s. It catches the small girl off-guard for a moment, and her mouth drops open.

The princess uses that as her in, tasting your essence from Riri’s tongue. The kiss is sloppy, strings of spit connecting them, your cum being swapped between their mouths. Riri moans into it, and you follow up with one of your own. 

You can see their tongues caressing each other, twisting and tangling, and it's so damn sexy.

You’d never seen them like this, so tender with one another. 

Shuri drops Ri onto the bed beside you, their mouths never detaching. An idea forms in your mind at the sight and you will yourself to get up. Your sore muscles scream as you turn towards them, reaching between their close bodies to unfasten the harness still strapped to Riri. 

Her moans fill the room, coming out muffled underneath Shuri’s lips. Neither of them notices you leave the bed, moving through the room like a ghost. Riri’s suitcase is still open and at the very bottom, zipped behind a discarded pocket is exactly what you’re looking for.

You weren’t one to strap up often in this relationship, and you had no idea how the straps were supposed to go around your hips. “Shuri, c’mere.”

At the sound of your voice, Shuri pulls away from Ri, drool covering their faces and sparks behind their eyes. She turns and catches a glimpse of you, struggling with the harness, and cocks a sharp brow your way.

You can’t help the eye roll you let follow through. “C’mere, please?”

“That wasn’t the problem with that sentence, and you know it, baby girl.”

“I need help,” you whined, patience thinning. 

“What are you trying to do baby?” Shuri reaches you in two steps, her long fingers taking the harness from you and securing it properly. 

You ignore her, directing your next words at the girl still on the bed, watching, waiting for what was to come. 

“Ri, can I fuck you?”

Her mouth fell agape, stunned by the thought. You took her dick so damn well, but she had never taken it from you. The thought was dizzying, excitement in her bones, slick in her cunt.“Y-yeah, baby.”

“You sure it’s not you who need to get fucked again?” Shuri grabs your face, index finger, and thumb sinking into your dimples. “You seem to have forgotten how to address us, baby.”

The smile that spreads on your lips is devious. “Whether or not I address you correctly won’t change the answer, now will it?”

You’ve rendered the princess speechless. Before she can open her mouth again, you throw a pair of boxers in her direction, the ones she used when she fucked you into oblivion. 

“What you want me to do with these?”

“Wear em on your head,” your sarcastic tone cracked a smile on the young royal’s face. She reached up to catch the object you threw her way. It was one of your toys from home, a smaller cock compared to others you used, but still impressive. 

“Safeword, ma?”

Riri sat on the bed, legs spread wide. Anxiety pooled through her veins at what was coming for her and she couldn’t wait. “Um, shit. Red?”

“You always choose red.”

Her shoulders rise and fall, “Then it should be easy to remember.”

You were too busy trying to secure a thicker piece to your body, the vibranium running through it connecting you to the fake cock like it was real. A soft moan lingered on your lips at the feeling radiating down your legs and through your center. 

“You think you in charge now baby?” Shuri’s tone was teasing but her words were true. You’d taken a new lead in the new country and she kind of liked it. 

“Nah, I like being taken care of too much,” your wink actually causes the princess to blush. “Can you go sit behind Ri? Put her on your lap?”

“Yes ma’am,” Shuri gave you a swift salute and made her way back across the room. She lifted Ri with no effort, placing her still-naked, still-wet body on her lap, back to front. 

You made your way behind her, the bed dipping with your added weight. Riri was mesmerized by the sight of you, on all fours, making your way to her like a predator to its prey. 

Her lips are parted so prettily, waiting for you. Her breathing hitches as your mouth approaches hers. When they connect, it’s with a moan and you can still taste yourself, still taste her on her own tongue. 

The kiss is brief and wet. Your lips wrap around her tongue, sucking on your own flavor and when you pull away, you pull her bottom lip with you, teeth sunken into their softness. 

“Remember the safe word?”

“I-yeah? I just said it like two minutes ago.”

You move past her, lips brushing her ear ever so slightly. “Just making sure.”

Shuri’s your target and you get close, your voice getting low so that only she can hear you. 

“Has she ever taken you in her ass, daddy?”

She sputters, her nickname rolling off your tongue and straight to her core. “U-uh, y-yeah, baby. Why?”

“Because that’s where I want you.”

This fucking confidence, it looks so good on you. Shuri can only nod, mind foggy. She lifts Riri by the back of her thighs, planting slow, tender kisses on her neck. “You ready, Ri?”

Shuri’s cock is lined up, ready to enter and Riri’s caught on. “Baby wh-“

You’re running your hand down her front, over her golden chain, through the valley between her breasts, down the tattoo that sits at the top of her stomach, past her belly button, all the way down to her clit. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

Riri fucking loved this, whatever this side of you was. “I-I want to.”

“Good,” your arms fall around her shoulders and you nod at Shuri to continue. “And we gon take real good care of you, I promise.” You seal your vow with a kiss, just as Shuri’s tip slides in, trapped in Riri’s tightness. 

“Shit,” Ri hisses between clenched teeth. Shuri’s breath is gone, Riri’s squeezing around her just too well. 

“R-Ri, I-“

“Go ahead,” Riri’s pussy glistens at you, awaiting Shuri’s next movements. “B-bottom out. I’m good, f-feels good.”

Riri’s ass swallowing Shuri’s cock was a fucking delicious sight. Excitement grew in your stomach, your clit beneath the strap jumping at the sight. Her legs were spread wide as Shuri’s dick disappeared completely into her. 

“F-fuck Shuri-“

“Yeah, baby. It’s been a minute,  you so fucking tight. C-can I move?”

“Not yet,” you butt in, crawling into the space between Riri’s thighs. Your own cock lined up at her entrance, tip tracing her slit. “Ri?” 

“O-oh,” a dry chuckle escapes her. “Y-you’re gonna destroy me, baby.”

Your lips land against hers once more as you will your hips forward, just a bit. “Is that okay?”

Her nod is frantic, “F-fuck yes.” 

You’d intended to give her all of you at once, but with Shuri in her as well, you’re met with resistance. Riri has to feel every inch of you penetrate her walls slowly, digging deep. She throws her head back against Shuri’s shoulder, mouth wide open, eyes lazy. 

“Oh my god, baby, fuck!”

You stop before you’re fully in, halted by her curses. “Am I hurting you?”

Don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop. Riri’s already gotten a taste of what you were about to give her, she wants it all. Her fingers grab your hips, pulling you closer until you’re hilt deep. “N-no, baby. F-feels good, please, fuck me, fuck me.”

Shuri’s index finger taps your chin, pulling your eyes from Ri and onto her. “You ain’t boss man yet, baby. Follow my rhythm.”

You agree, and pull out at the same time Shuri does. Riri whines, feeling too empty. She needs to be filled again and it doesn’t take long to fulfill her wishes. 

Shuri thrusts so you do too. “Fuck!” It’s more growl than moan, but it sounds lovely coming from Ri’s mouth nonetheless. 

You’re mimicking Shuri’s movements and Ri is a wet mess between you two. You can feel her, all of her. Her juices are trailing down your cock, her walls squeezing you, and god, they were so soft. 

It was like you just melted into her, your moans meshing with hers as though you were the one being fucked. 

“Babyyy, you’re doing s-so good, f-fucking me so good,” her words were fuel to your flame. Your fingers tightened around her waist. The pressure of her gripping you, the pressure of Shuri’s cock pressing against yours through the girl between you, my god, it was fucking delicious. 

And she was fucking delirious, unable to control the sensation as it ran hot through her body or the incoherent words that ran from her mouth. 

“S-so close, so close-“

When Shuri picked up speed, so did you. From the look on her face, full of focus and lust, she was also close. 

“D-don’t cum yet, ma. N-not ready to stop.”

You wanted her to hold it? Fuck, fuck that was gonna be hard. Her orgasm was right there, you were grinding into it with your tip, her pussy splashing around your cock, dripping down to Shuri’s. 

“O-oh baby, I-I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

Your lower stomach was covered in Riri, the wetness slicking your clit. She couldn’t though. She was already coming, your name on her lips, loud. 

“Y/n, baby, oooh, my b-baby, I-I’m f-fucking coming.”

Shuri breaks your rhythm, bouncing Riri on her cock at inhumane speeds, panther-like speeds. You slip out at the swift movements and Ri is free to release, coming, fucking squirting on your torso, soaking you in her stickiness. 

“Just y/n, Ri? You only coming for her?”

“N-no, Shuri, fuck, t-too deep-“

She lifts the girl slightly, but doesn’t stop. “Oh now you know my name? Didn’t know it when you were coming, so guess I gotta make you cum again, huh?”

Riri’s trying so hard to squeeze her legs shut, her body too sensitive from the orgasm that just wrecked her. “N-no, sorry, S-Shuri, fuck-“

The panther’s got her canines bared, eyes dark, voice low. “Nah, that’s n-not my fucking name no more, baby-“

Shit, what a fucking sight. Ri’s breasts bounce hard, her little body being thrown into the air, landing back on the entirety of Shuri’s cock. 

“I-I’m n-not-“

Shuri showed no mercy, her hand reaching around Riri’s front to swipe at her clit. The overly sensitive bud was already worn out. 

You watched, hypnotized, wondering when Riri would crack. Shuri’s eyes met yours and god, her smirk was so sexy. “Like what you see, baby?”

Your nod was slight, lip pulled between your teeth. “Good, cuz you next.”

She turned back to her task at hand, teeth sinking into Riri’s neck, licking away the pain she knew it caused. 

“C’mon, baby. Give it to me.”

“F-fuck, Shuri, please-“

Shuri was relentless-her torture wasn’t letting up. “My name, Ri. Say my name baby.”

She had to. Riri knew she had to as her second orgasm tethered near. It was going to rip her apart, Shuri was going to rip her apart. Eyes squeezed shut, cunt leaking once more, she caved. Riri gave in, just as her pussy poured into Shuri’s sheets, her name roaring through the air.

 

“D-daddy, fuck!”

Shuri was fucking pleased and her cock twitched deep in Riri, spilling her seed into her ass and back all over her dick. “Was that so hard? Huh, baby?”

Riri was silent, body shaking, nut collecting beneath the three of you. She convulsed like she was possessed, mouth wide open, a beautiful contortion on her face. 

Her body went limp afterward, falling into the wet comforter beneath her. “Shit-“

Shuri leaned over, a wet kiss falling from her lips and planting on Riri’s. “You called me da-“

“Nigga, no, okay? We don’t speak of it.”

You make your way between their two bodies, having enjoyed the tender moment, even if it was brief. “You did call her daddy, though.”

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under, and then some. Riri’s eyes were slits, staring daggers into your head. 

Shuri’s lips moved to yours next, “I didn’t know you had all that in you, baby.”

Your blush brought butterflies to the princess’ stomach. “Did I do good? Did you like it?”

Her arms wrap around your body, pulling you on top of hers while Riri scoots closer, kissing down your arm. “You did phenomenally. I fucking loved it, fucking love you.”

“I love y-“

A hard knock cuts your words short. Okoye’s voice rings through the heavy door, “Hey! Yeah, your soundproofing didn’t work, Princess!”

[ofallthingsnasty]

Scenario where Arlongs human pet falls pregnant 👉👈

oh, anon, you're so evil... i love it 😔💕

references this post

tw.minors dni, forced pregnancy, noncon, dehumanization, mutilation mention, read the tags and read them twice

It's simultaneously the best and worst thing that can happen to you in this situation.

The best because it provides you with a breather of sorts - and the worst because well, you're pregnant with that man's child. You might think he’d be angry with you - far from that, actually. The moment he catches on, he’ll be nothing but thoroughly pleased with himself. It means that he has fully tainted you, claimed every inch of your body. Of course you'd get knocked up, he'll say, how could your little human womb ever withstand his seed. And if he hasn’t called you his little cow before - he’s definitely going to, now. As utterly humiliating it is to have him smile down at you with nothing but smug malice, it also elevates your status significantly. Suddenly there is a place to sleep for you, even regular meals. No more crawling around on all fours to amuse him or the crew, no more heavy feet on your back when he decides he’d rather use you as a footstool, no more hands all over your body, pinching, groping, slapping you - and, most importantly, no more impromptu violence, at least to the extent you experienced beforehand. That little thing in you is far too valuable to torture its vessel over and risk losing it. (And he’ll tell you all about it - that he’s only being so nice to you because you’re carrying his child.) Does it mean that you’re suddenly living an almost normal life despite the circumstances? Absolutely not. You’ll still need to make yourself useful to him - you’re still their little maid-servant and work from dusk to dawn, still have to serve Arlong to your best abilities - but the abuse shifts from physical to verbal. It’s still hard, but with a full belly, a decent place to sleep and without the looming threat of getting drowned just for fun, harsh words are way, way easier to withstand than before. He is obsessed with your bump - he definitely makes you wear clothing that emphasizes it the moment you even start to remotely show. It’s the deepest form of branding to him and he develops a sick pleasure in showing you off to your old friends and family in the village that you used to call your home. He parades you around like he just bred his pedigree dog, talks on and on about how you’ve finally fully submitted and saw the light, saw what’s best for you, how you know your place - all to the mortification of the people you used to know. He’ll make a whole show of getting you examined by your old town doctor, makes sure you’re at every check-up, each time a little fuller than before, showing off your progress. (And god have mercy on them if they try to help you get rid of it because it’s an open secret that this pregnancy is entirely unwanted. He’ll slit them open top to bottom on the town square and threaten to cut your feet off - if you dare to kill his offspring he’ll simply fuck another one in you, he’ll say, expression beyond good and evil. You’ll lose a finger for the attempt; if you try again, it’ll be a limb.)

Not to mention that he’s ravenous. It’s like a switch has been flipped in his brain - where he has forced himself on you in the past to get his dick wet, to get some use out of you, he suddenly can’t keep his hands to himself because of some new-found attraction. And the more you’re showing, the worse it gets. He’ll fuck you until the day you’re due, no matter how much you complain or how straining it is for you. It’s something he retains until after you’ve given birth - from that moment on, you’ve gone from the human toy to his little breeding stock and he’ll make sure to put you to good use. You’ll never be empty again if he can help it - he’s found a new ‘feature’ of yours to exploit and he’s going to keep at it until you’re a shell of your former self, until you collapse.

And you better hope the baby takes more after him than you - he’s not going to be kind to a little half fish-man who looks more like a human than him. That poor baby has a beyond bleak future in front of them. (Don’t even think of trying to escape with your child - he’ll make you regret it every single day of your remaining life, that’s for sure.)

[appleblueberry-pie]

https://www.tumblr.com/appleblueberry-pie/744637913769345024/yandere-housewife-satoru-x-reader

You really ate with this once 🫡

I can’t help but thinking about some deviously delicious angst though… like reader leaving him. Anyway-

Romance yandere fic gone wrong and now it's angst cuz the love of his life left him and now its a dark yandere fic?????? You guys always know how to keep me going.

SOULMAAAATES!

Will you notice the salt in the pie he made? It's not much, just the tears of his anxiety and fear kind of making itself known when he was putting the crust strips on to seal the filling in. He doesn't think you will. Especially since you kind of stopped caring about the meals he's been making you for this past week or so. He lets out a shaky sigh as he examines the near-perfect pie he just took out of the oven. Dreading the moment of giving you the plate, he cuts you a big piece. Maybe you'll appreciate it more if there's more of it for you to eat?

He stares down at his work as he brings it over to you at the dining table. When he looks up, you have that same look on your face that you've been making all week. Boredom and impatience. He meets your eyes, setting the plate down and then sitting next to you to see your reaction. "Here you go. I haven't tweaked the recipe or anything, if you were wondering." He mutters the last few words and watches you chew a big bite. You roll your eyes and continue eating it as if you feel like you're obligated to finish. Satoru felt dread pool in his stomach. Why were you acting this way towards him?? Did he do something?

You haven't said a single word to him all day. You haven't checked up on him, you've been ignoring his calls and have been coming home late. You seemed to come home smelling like an entire other person. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think or to believe anything that could lead to why you were behaving this way towards him. Despite him clawing his chest every night at needing to at least feel you once, he thinks things are actually perfectly fine the way they are. No need to dig deep or to follow you to and from work to see if you're sneaking around behind his back or anything.

But somehow, he found himself in a concealed black outfit watching you from outside of the cafe that he sat at from a distance as you gave all of your attention to some chick you were clearly chopping it up with. He continued chewing on his ruined straw of his drink as you scooted closer to her instinctually and cracked so many jokes with her, it was a surprise she didn't die from a laugh attack or something. She clearly wanted to get into your pants, and you let her hands roam on you like he once did with you.

Did you not love him anymore? Is that what this was? He could play whatever role you wanted him to. He'd be your bitch, he'll dress up in whatever you want, let you call him names and pull at his hair and face. Just...anything but fucking cheat. He wanted to yell at you and beg you to come back at the same time. He wanted to murder her in front of your face and just drag you back home and never let you out again. His feet carried him to your table three stores away, legs numb with adrenaline and head pounding.

He stood in front of your table and watched you stare up at him in slight surprise. Your arm was across the back of the girls chair and she stared back up at him in confusion. ".......is this where you've been?" His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest and his voice was wobbly. He hated everything about this.

"Excuse me?" You saved face and played confusion, still relaxed in your chair. The girl turned to whisper to you if you knew him and you shook your head. Satoru felt his hands shake at seeing you lie to her face about your relationship status. So it all meant nothing to you? He stuck with you since he was a stupid teenage freak. Too strong for his own good, desperate for something new and true for his heart to hang onto. You were his salvation, you were real to him. You gave him exactly what he needed. Love, validation, excitement, fun and so much he couldn't get out of his childhood, out of his job or anywhere else on the fucking planet. You were his everything and here you were brushing off 10 years with a shake of your head.

"What??......no." He shook his head and pointed at you, trying to form words in his mind to spit out of his mouth. "You've been cheating on me this past month. Coming home late, acting like I'm nothing....leaving me all alone. Am I nothing to you?? Am I? I gave myself to you a-and you're out cheating-"

"Gojo, I don't give a fuck." You shake your head and ignored the girl giggling to herself. "I'm clearly cheating on you. I didn't want you to fucking stalk me though. That's weird as hell, i was just hoping you'd break it off, honestly...why are you laughing?" You turn back to the girl, her smile making you smile. "I just think it's cute that you're cheating with me..." "You like that?" Satoru switches his gaze to the slut on your arm and your face drops as he tackles her to the ground. Her screech as he plummets her face into the ground makes you grab Gojo by the collar to bring him off of her. It happened so fast, you wished you could've predicted when it happened, because nothing could've stopped him from killing her in that moment in time.

She was definitely dead. The concrete underneath what used to be her head was cracked, her blood seeping right into them. "You fucking killed her." "BECAUSE YOU CHEATED!" He panted heavily, fury fueling his anger. Both of his hands were covered in a dark dripping crimson and you heaved a sigh. His blood felt like it was burning as it coursed through his veins violently. For some reason, his vision felt as if it was blurry. Maybe it was from tears or from the extreme stress you were putting him in. Either way, he couldn't think straight. Not when you stared at him like that. "YOU FUCKING CHEATED. And you want to be mad? How about I fucking kill you next?" He was talking out of his ass, but for some reason, he felt as if he needed to do something about this. He couldn't just let you go. You were supposed to be his until the end of time. What if you go outside to cheat again?? He's stronger than you, he could probably bring you back to the house without problems.

He began convincing himself that kidnapping you would probably be the best solution for you. He's heard of stockholm syndrome. Maybe then, you'll love him back. He wonders how long that would take. "I think.....I think it's time we go home, don't you think?" "I'm leaving." When you turned, he grabbed your arm, and suddenly you two were back in your shared living room. You turned back to Gojo and glared. "Let me go." "Shhhh, just let me love you." You scrunched your eyebrows and saw him dig into his back pocket before putting what was probably a pill into his mouth. "What the fuck are you doi-?" He slammed his lips onto yours, placing his stained hands on either side of your face. He does quick work of shoving the pill into your mouth with his tongue, making you swallow it. You bite his lip as hard as you can, tasting warm iron on your tongue immediately. His only reaction was to moan like a psycho, continuing to kiss you sloppily.

You finally find a middle ground and managed to place your hands on his chest, shoving him away. He looked insane with his messy hair and bloodied lips. But you couldn't say anything quick enough, for he closed the distance, a fist being the last thing you see before you black out.

Gojo had always been stronger than you. But never in your 10 year relationship has he ever put his hands on you. And never has he drugged you and dragged you to the basement of your shared living space for however long he desired to make you "love him again". Every day, he'd feed you as much as he could and would beg for your forgiveness and love. You'd spit in his face(a warm welcome, in his opinion), and tell him to let you go. Or just say nothing. But if you didn't say anything, he'd just pester you for longer than he usually would. You hated bath time with him, you hated when he took care of you, you hated being worshipped by him. You just wanted to be free. But you were his only escape, his freedom. And it would be that way until your life wasted away entirely.

[spheciform]

Sad she only got one album out before everything went to shit, but what's a girl to do?

This is a fake album cover for my dnd character, Helvia, and her fake band THREAT DISPLAY!!! Context for this piece and Helvia as a whole under the cut because once I start I can't stop talking about her <3

SO the campaign hasn't started yet, but Helvia is my character for a science fiction campaign. She's robot!!! Well I guess that's obvious now. BUT the basic gist: Helvia was manufactured as an industry-controlled and maintained electronic "punk" singer. When the project ended up making no money, everything related to it (including her), was abandoned. Three years later, she wakes up out of stasis with no clue what happened, an insane debt, and a failing memory. You will look at her !! Her full name is Helvia Cardinalis. This is just a genus of mantis it doesn't have any special meaning I just like bugs <3

-she has generated "background" memories of an entire life, but there's no telling which of those are real. I don't actually know which of them are real. My dm does!!! We'll be finding out together!!

-sometimes she uh. Doesn't know basic information. Whenever something she should reasonably know gets brought up I get to roll a flat d20 to do a "memory check", the checks getting harder the older the memory is. When she fails, she gets to lie or change the topic etc because she would rather DIE than admit anything is wrong with her.

-the album cover is kind of an intentionally really poor introduction of her character. She's more silly than anything? The entire project was meticulously micromanaged by the company that made her. The "novelty" and aesthetic of having a construct as their lead took forefront in its advertisement. There were two other members of THREAT DISPLAY!!! But she has no memory of them because they were considered comparatively SO unimportant to advertising and to her that they have gone... forgotten.

-Helvia herself is. A real character alright!!! Based entirely in what a corporation thinks a "cool alternative girl" is, she's impulsive, selfish, and just. So fucking stupid. She's firmly a "might makes right" type of person who was designed to appear counterculture but still ultimately serve and be fine with the status quo as long as it benefits her. She's going to do anything that grants her immediate satisfaction, and is obsessed with maintaining her image as "cool and above it all", even as her body is actively breaking down. She easily falls for flattery.

Notes about the piece: yeah I downloaded and used splatoon fonts for the nonsense text. I think I typed gay sex like twice I'll be real none of it translates to relevant information. I think there's something in there about how I hope it came across as an adequate parody of machine girl album covers (my main inspiration). The composition of the piece itself is meant to feel kind of skeevy and exploitative because well. It is!! It's drawing the fine line between 'wow this is so cool and counterculture of us wow!!!' and fetishistic? Etc etc missing the chestpiece as an analog for putting a woman topless on the cover. There's actually a separate sketch I did as a canonical "mock up" for the design that originally included the other members, treating them like props because they're so unimportant, before they were scrapped from the final design because they were That Unimportant.

Notes on Helvia's design: I pulled from a few sources for this!! Notably I looked at so many pictures of that band Tramp Stamps. Remember Tramp Stamps? I don't. They're like the direct analog I think to her. I also pulled from vocaloid designs!! Impractical, cool, kind of "anime" feel. This comes across most in her hair I think which is just so beautifully impractical. The yellow gloves are so stupid important to me actually they're kind of ugly but it's the only way her name ended up being important: helvia cardinalis (mantis) is Bright Yellow and raises its 'arms' in its threat display, which I wanted to pull from for potential posing of her!! So. Bright stupid yellow gloves <3 they're an easy way to tell her character apart too & mean I don't have to worry about drawing all the nonsense on her arms. The translucent skirt also comes from the mantis, sort of pulled from its wings!! Original concepts for her included synthetic skin rotting away but her design was already more complicated than I normally go for and we ultimately ended up realizing her being openly and visibly a construct was important for her image in her music career so it worked out well! She is at least missing an eyeball :] doesn't affect vision since the mechanics are still in place but I guess she just gets that fun sans glow socket <3 her outfit is meant to look simultaneously cool, vaguely expensive, but also super super cheap?? Overall I'm happy with the fact that she looks both cool and really stupidly impractical in that classic 2000s deviantart oc way <3 it's important to me! Ultimately:

[incorrectelswordquotes]

Do you remember when the job progression quests had dialogue cutscenes and difficult quests? Each town had its own gear and you'd have to drop blue-background items to upgrade it. And it was character-specific too. Ice statues had to be crafted, and the ingredients would just pile up in your inventory. There was Unique equipment for every region you had a chance to drop after a boss battle, and it'd be shown in the chat. Plant Overlord's accessory was the top trending thing. Rena was blonde and did a flip when she double jumped. The first field introduced was the one between Hamel and Velder. The level cap was 40 and it was *hard* to get there.

I sure don't miss a lot of this stuff, but looking back, it feels like a wholly different game.

i played around when the game was still like this for the most part, except the level cap at the time was 70? and then over time it jumped to 90 but my middle-school/high-school ass couldn't keep up. actually, i remember seeing the new UI the game has for the health bars and that was already enough to throw me off. not that it looks bad, but i remember seeing this UI for the longest time:

vs this:

like as much as i miss the one i got acquainted with, this new one is a lot simpler and cleaner? yet it retains that cartoony vibe with the slanted bars so thats neat. and then there's THIS:

i'll admit i havent played during this era but man this looks busy af. it was simple yea, but something feels off about it. like i love the look here too but it kinda clashes colors-wise. there's not too much of a difference between the original UI and the one after it but i could tell it needed slimming down.

while i was gone i also learned that the previous privately-hosted server VoidEls was shut down but was eventually replaced by another, which is fair enough i guess.

"Each town had its own gear and you'd have to drop blue-background items to upgrade it. And it was character-specific too."

this was both cool and annoying, for me personally at least. it's cool in that every town having gear gave you a way to progress before getting even stronger gear. sort of like a jumping-off point for every town you got to as they handed you their own version of stuff you could use. and you could emulate their aesthetic by wearing their gear. the annoying part is that constantly switching gear means item management is necessary to prevent your inventory from maxing out, and not every item looked good on you. if you didn't have skins? tough luck. (my memory might be wrong here so please correct me if i messed something up)

"...job progression quests had dialogue cutscenes and difficult quests?"

THEY GOT RID OF THOSE!? maybe im jaded but as a writer, i liked seeing the player-characters' personal struggle as they progressed through a job-specific mission. those short cutscenes let us see what they're really like. even if some of the requirements really were trash. i still remember spamming the same dungeon over and over hoping for a quest drop (or multiple) so i can move on. but after hearing the story was consolidated to be one singular, linear path regardless of who you played, maybe they streamlined the job class progression system too?

update: yea it seems you still have to spam dungeons to upgrade to Master Class but it looks less tedious than before for previous class ranks.

"Plant Overlord's accessory was the top trending thing."

boss accessories were the bane of my existence so this makes sense. it seems like it's unobtainable, as many overworld zones and dungeons have since been removed based on what i just looked up

im assuming Plant Overlord isn't fightable anymore or only shows up in some elite zone now so rip

"Rena was blonde and did a flip when she double jumped."

i didn't know this. in fact when i checked her wiki page, the change was because her hair wasn't green enough despite her class art showing her as having green-hued hair.

speaking of the wiki,

holy fucking shit thats a lot of classes

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

More stuff about my Merlin soulmate au:

Something I think I forgot to mention last time is that soulmates take comfort in the presence and physical contact of each other, feeling safe and content with them by their side.

The other kingdoms view Uther's policies on soulmates to be barbaric and cruel, and is a contributing factor to the tension and conflicts Camelot faces with the surrounding kingdoms.

Morgana still goes evil in this one lads, but with an important change of her anger being exclusively directed at Uther, Arthur, and Merlin. Gwen is her soulmate and she loves her, she wants Gwen at HER side. Her rage at getting a vision of Gwen becoming queen isn't because she is queen, but because she's ARTHURS queen (I do want to clarify that Gwen and Morgana's relationship in this au is platonic, but it only makes sense for Morgana to want one of her soulmates to rule beside her, and her other soulmates are her sister and a child)

So all the attempts on Gwen's life are gone (though both the shade plot and the dark tower might still be in play, but with the intention to get Gwen back all to herself, not to harm her)

(Merlin does not know Morgana is one of Gwen's other soulmates until after he poisoned her and Gwen let's slipped that she's really worried about Morgana, but at least she knows she's alive.)

(Gwen being Morgana's soulmate is a treasure trove of angst that I do plan on exploring fully)

The Coming of Arthur is going to be fun in regards to Morgana and Gwen (and Leon)

Morgana promising Gwen that no harm will come to her, not with her by her side.

"I know it's not fair of me to make you choose between soulmates, but Gwen, I can bring peace back to Camelot. Magic can be free again, soulmates cherished as they are supposed to be. Please, join me."

But the thing is, Morgana isn't just asking Gwen to choose between two halves of her soul. She knows both Leon and Merlin would never forsake Arthur, and if she chose Morgana, she would also lose both of them, not just Arthur. It's an unfair position to be in, an impossible situation (she chooses anyway. The Morgana she knew never would have ordered the death of innocent civilians to punish those who would not obey her. Something happened to the girl she loves, shes having trouble recognizing the holder of a piece of her soul)

(Gwen still goes to the dungeon to bring Leon food, though it goes a little differently, with Leon learning that Morgana is her soulmate. More on that in another post)

Arthur is going to repeal the laws against soulmates and magic as soon as he becomes king (he has been aware of Merlin’s status as a sorcerer for years and is unable to see how magic can be evil and corrupting when Merlin is one of the best people he knows and his soulmate to boot)

Due to most of them growing up under laws that prohibit talking about soulmates, it takes everybody far too fucking long to realize that they are all soulmates with each other cause no one says anything or compares notes.

I know its mean, but they finally figure it all out following Lancelot's death

(I have tried to figure out a way for him to survive but I really don't think he can)

(Poor Gwen all alone in Camelot breaking down while helping care for people because she feels Lancelot *die* with only Gaius to help her. No other soulmates available to hold her and help her feel a little less empty, a little less alone.)

Everyone experiencing the same pain and all knowing they just lost Lancelot leads to conversation.

Because while everyone in the group had been bonded with Lancelot, not everyone is bound together, which is totally possible, but Arthur knows he's soul bound to half this group, it would make sense to check if there's others in the group.

I will make a separate post about the events of the darkest hour cause I think this would get very long if I had it in here

Now, something I haven't gotten into yet is the magic part of soulmates (so far it's mainly been the destiny and social ramifications and interpersonal details)

Soulmarks are magic, and in some cases, an individual can develop a soulmate ability, a single ability that can be used in regards to exclusively one's bonded soulmates

Now these abilities vary in strength and specificity, some are dictated by touch, others apply no matter where they are in the world

Some soulmate abilities I've come up with thus far are:

The ability to always know what direction their soulmate is in relation to themself

The ability to know when their soulmate is lying to them, and a more broad varient of always knowing when they are lying period

The ability to always instinctually know what it is their soulmate truly means when they speak (I'm very tempted to give this to Gwen because I think it would make things interesting with Morgana, but I am worried it might break things a bit)

The ability to know what their soulmate is feeling emotionally by looking at them or touching them (I think I'm going to give this one to Leon?)

An ability confined to touch that brings to the soulmate's attention what their body most needs at that moment. (It's requires intent to be put into use, and it doesn't necessarily make the soulmate do that thing? It's not compulsory. It's more "Hey you're fucking exhausted you need sleep," or "Crying sounds so nice right now," or "Dude, EAT," and they can still fight these things, if they choose to, but those things are now at the forefront of their attention (making them more likely to be heeded))

Now, an ability I've thought EXTENSIVELY about:

A very rare and (before Uther nuked everything having to do with magic and soulmates) coveted ability that allows someone to, through constant touch, share their life force with their dying soulmate in order to keep then alive.

So say, for example, somebody (Soulmate A) is actively bleeding out from a fatal wound. The soulmate with the ability (Soulmate B) would have to touch soulmate A, skin to skin contact, and have this desperation, determination that soulmate A will not die, they won't let them.

Now, a couple things would happen.

One: Soulmate B's soulmark on Soulmate A's skin would move in some way to the point of injury (the method may vary depending on what their mark looks like. Like if the mark was a flower, the stem may extend and the mark itself stays stationary, or if it's something that's alive it would just fully move) and start "healing" the wound

Healing being in quotes because

Two: The injury is really being transferred partially to Soulmate B, enough so that the injury to Soulmate A is no longer immediately fatal, for the duration that they keep contact with Soulmate A. This buys Soulmate A time to be healed properly, but if the underlying injury is not healed in a timely manner, both Soulmate A and B could die.

Healing Soulmate A would also heal Soulmate B, as it was never truly their injury (though it sure feels and acts like it, and can be just as deadly if help isn't gotten in time.)

Because this ability is so inherently magic and is considered a spell, Soulmate B, even if they have the capacity to use other magic, can not cast a healing spell while using this spell, as it's only possible to cast one spell at a time.

I am naturally giving this ability to Merlin.

But the thing about abilities like this one is that it's impossible to know if you have it or not until the situation calls for it for the first time. It's impossible to know until your soulmate is dying right in front of you. Until you reach out and wish with every fiber in your being that they survive and they DO

The other thing about this ability? It can only be used once per soulmate. One get out of death free card and that's it

I haven't fully figured out if the dark tower would still happen, but if it does, Merlin would discover this ability saving Elyan's life (with the help of the knights who have to on the fly learn healing magic or else lose *both* of them)

That's going to be it for this post as it's starting to get long, but I have other posts I'm already working on. Also, if anyone has any questions, ideas, or suggestions in regards to this au, please feel free to send them my way!

[newleaf92]

Favorite Lines from Hazbin Hotel songs Part One:

Happy Day in Hell

“That bitch is halfway down the street.” “Is she—?” “Oh she’s dancin’”

“I can hear all their stories, the lost and displaced and I know that they’re more of an acquired taste.”

“I can already tell, today is going to be a fuckin’ happy day in hell.” (cause that note that she holds)

Hell is Forever

“If what you’re suggesting is letting them climb up the ladder—oh, they’d rather cross the Pearly Gates.”

“Had their chance to behave better now they boil in the pot.”

“Are they winners? Are they sinners? Cause it’s cut and dry.”

“And for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment.”

“Guitar solo fuck yeah!”

“Fuckin’ Hell’s forever and it’s meant to suck a lot. So give up your dumb endeavor cause you don’t have a shot.”

Stayed Gone

“Everyone knows there’s a brand new dawn. Turn the TV on!”

“He’s a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile but the demon is a coward!”

“While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video! Now his medium is getting bloody rare!”

“And here’s the sugar on the cream—he asked me to join his team. I said no and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea.”

“Let’s begin. I’m gonna make you wish that I stayed gone. Tune on in. When I’m done, your status quo will know its race is run. Oh this will be fun.”

It Starts with Sorry

“Who can forgive a dirtbag like me? I don’t deserve your amnesty.”

“Can’t we just kill him? Shoot him and spill his blood?”

“But who hasn’t been in his shoes?”

Respectless

“You better show some respect! Check your behavior.”

“You got it twisted. I’m not the one who needs a new attitude.”

“You and the Vees are inane and uninformed. Smug wannabes, who don't heed when you've been warned”

“Thanks to my being respectless, one thing I’m starting to suspect is, you know why this angel is headless.”

Whatever it Takes

“So I... I'll be your keeper. Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes. I'll keep you safe and keep this secret.”

“And I don't know what we might face, but I know I can't replace you, so I'll do anything to save you.”

[thesupremecatmaster]

Not Without You | Chapter One

Summary - You were on a mission when it went haywire. You were injured and when you made it back to base, your favorite teammate was nowhere to be seen.

Relationship - Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count - 1,276

Warnings - Minor descriptions of violence and injuries

A/N - This is the first fan fiction I've written, Mr. Ghost has just had that effect on me I guess. Thank you to @poopypantilonies for helping me along through the writing process so far.

Link to ao3

I do not own any Modern Warfare characters.

------------------------

“Bravo 0-3, what’s your teams status?” you hear through your headset. It’s the leader of Alpha team. It’s Commander Price. You’re currently in Mexico on a rescue mission to save the Secretary of Defense John P. Palcon from Hassan, and you just watched a missile head exactly to where your team was. The three men under your command were gone in an instant and you were lucky to be far enough away to only receive the throwback. 

“All of my soldiers are down, sir,” you speak into comms drearily, the ringing in your ears yet to die down.

“And what’s your status?”, he said. Fuck. What did he say? You can’t focus on a goddamn thing, your head hurts. Hell, your everything hurts.

He was practically yelling your last name into the comms now, “How copy?!”

You’re try to get a hold onto your surroundings, but everything’s coming up fuzzy. Your vision is dimming. Your last name is the last thing you hear.

-

When you finally came to after god knows how long, you could see a helicopter in the distance and were moving towards it. You weren’t walking though, not in your condition. It was Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley who had you in a fireman’s carry.

“Wh…what happened?” you quietly spoke as you tried to lift your head to view more of your surroundings.

Captain John Price sped up his walk so that he was in your field of view, “Finally awake, eh? We had heard the explosion from the other side of the compound,” he yelled over the loudening sound of the helicopters blades, “We made our way over and saw you laying on the ground unconscious.”

“Save your energy, kid, you’ll need it for the ride home.” you heard Ghost say. As you gained full conscious, you also became fully aware of just how much everything hurt. Your head, joints, and muscles were all screaming at you. 

You felt Ghost put you down on a cot inside the helicopter. It might just be better to sleep for now and get details later.

-

You woke up once more, this time in a bed. With one scan of the room, it was obvious that you were at a treatment facility. Only odd thing about the room was the huge figure sitting in the corner of the room. They hadn’t noticed you were awake. Who was it? 

You blinked a few times, heart beginning to swell as it took more and more resemblance of Ghost. You sat up rather quickly, causing pain to shoot through your torso, but you had to know. You rubbed your eyes hoping to get a better view of him. Only to find it wasn’t him. It was a nurse who had come in to check your vitals. Noticing you were awake finally she spoke, “Good evening! How are you feeling? Any nausea?”

Disappointment made its way into your mind. You slowly shook your head as you looked to the door, “No. No nausea.”

The nurse followed your gaze, then looked back at you. “Well, you’re probably still exhausted from what you went through. Please get more rest and call if you need anything.” 

You gave her a gentle smile and watched as she left the room. You turned back to the corner you thought he was in. You laid back down and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take over before your tears could surface.

-

The next day, you could barely eat anything. Your stomach seemed to be in knots, you were at an all time low. In the afternoon, Sergeant John “Soap” Mactavish visited you.

“How’re you feeling lass? You took quite the injury back there,” he sounded worried for you.

You gave him your best smile as a hope of some reassurance, “Feeling a lot better than I did in field,” your attention turned to your IV drip, “They probably have me on some strong shit.”

He chuckled as he pulled up a chair next to your bed, “Well whatever they have you on hopefully, it’ll get you back to good as new in no time.”

Hearing that, you decided to give him a scare and make a move to get out of bed, but his hand was quickly placed on your shoulder to keep you down, he looked taken aback. You let out a laugh and said, “What? You said I’d be good as new in no time.”

He laughed with you before sitting back down in his chair.

You always liked Soap. He was a good person to have by your side, you sure as hell wouldn’t want him on the enemy side. “You guys miss me yet?”

He looked down at his hands, “Everyone does.”

Your mind instantly went to Ghost. You liked him the most out of everyone on task force 141. He was a good friend and an even better soldier. 

After hearing only the blowing AC, you decided to speak, “How has everyone been?”

“They’ve been doing as well as they could be, we managed to rescue Palcon, but couldn’t get Hassan,” he looked you in the eyes now, “They’re making a new plan for a few months from now.”

“Hopefully I’ll be good to go by then.”You looked out your window, all you could see was sky. “What about Ghost?”

Soap pursed his lips before saying, “He’s been distant, not talking much unless he’s spoken to,” he chuckled, “Which isn’t too out of the ordinary for him, but it’s different now.”

-

Soap had left after an hour or two of you two talking about various things, not just the mission. He figured it was best to keep your mind off of what happened and what you witnessed.

It had been a week since the incident, you had suffered a concussion and a few broken ribs along with some minor burns that would definitely not scar, at least according to the doctor. Your thoughts often wandered to Ghost. You didn’t have much to do other than think or mindlessly watch the shitty television in your room. 

Why had he not visited you? Everyone else has, even Laswell.

You pushed him out of your mind. Maybe he only thought of you as a squadmate and nothing more. Maybe he didn’t feel close to you like you did with him.

-

You took a huge breath of fresh air, freedom from that stuffy room at last. A smile spread across your face as you picked up your bag with a small wince. A car was pulling around to pick you up and take you back to base. Of course, it was soap who was saddled with this duty. He got out and hurried to grab your bags, throwing them in the back of the car. It wasn’t a long drive back to base. You climbed into the passenger seat and looked out of the window as Soap got back in and the hospital left your view. 

-

Around 20 minutes later, you were asked for your ID at the gate and soon after you pulled into the base, you saw the rest of your team.

Price and Gaz were standing on the edge of the sidewalk waiting for the car to pull up, while there was a tall masked figured looming distantly behind them. When you stepped out, Gaz instantly gave you a hug as gently as he could. There was still a slight throbbing in your side. You shook hands with Price when your gaze turned to where Ghost had been. Your eyes met for a moment before he took a step back and left.

You wondered how long it would be like this.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 4

You started your week working late again, never good for a Monday. You’d spent three hours texting your boyfriend, trying to help him with yet another problem at his job. You didn’t get to your own work until well into the afternoon. You were lucky your employer was flexible, as long as you got the job done, no one cared how late you stayed. And apparently neither did Justin. You’d texted him hours earlier and told him to eat dinner without you. But apart from an emoji of pizza and a chicken, he hadn’t said anything since, despite the late hour. The tension from the previous week had long been brushed under the carpet - a fun day out at Thorpe Park would do that. You made sure he wore sun cream, and he screamed like a little bitch on the Saw ride. You smiled as you packed up your things, that was a good day out.

You finally clocked out of your job almost 12 hours after you arrived, the office was spookily dark now, the only staff member left was the lone security guard. You were dead on your feet, desperate to get home and relax before you started to get really tired. At least the commute home would be less stressful by now.

Except midway through, there was a signalling error. Again. You groaned as you sat on the deserted train, you really didn’t want to deal with this right now. It wasn’t that far walking from this stop you supposed. It would be cheaper than getting a cab for just a five minute drive. You debated with yourself for ten minutes before sucking it up and exiting the station. 

The next twenty minutes walking in the cold night air wasn’t pleasant. You tensed each time you walked past men, especially ones who were alone. Your eyes darted around the place checking for threats. And your nose began to run, and you didn’t have a bloody tissue.

The warmth of the apartment building was a welcome relief, both for its temperature and safety. You dragged your feet up the stairs, longing to finally go to bed. Your freezing hands fumbled around in your pockets for your key. But with a sick realistation, you couldn’t find it. You wracked your brain, struggling to recall where the hell you’d have put them. You had assumed they were in your pocket, where you usually left them. Then it hit you.

“Fuck’s sake,” you murmured, pinching the bridge of your nose. You put them on your desk .

You got out your phone and texted Justin. Why the man removed his ‘last active’ status, you’ll never know. You stared at the screen, waiting. When he didn't reply immediately, you called. It went straight to voicemail.

You cursed under your breath, and knocked on your door. Three gentle raps at first. 

Nothing. 

You sighed in frustration and tried again, a little louder this time. 

Still nothing. 

The third time you knocked as though you were a rude delivery guy, praying nobody else in the building heard. You waited, ear pressed against the door, and heard, guess what?

Nothing.

Finally you hit the door with one loud thump then slumped against it.  A few moments later, a different door creaked open from across the hall. You glanced up towards the noise. In the opening stood your neighbour, looking tall, dark and handsome as always.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, his voice hoarse. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I left my keys back at the office, and my boyfriend can’t seem to hear me knocking,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you said apologetically.

“I was still awake, doll,” Bucky said softly. 

“Oh,” you murmured. You were a little surprised at the pet name, it wasn’t common in the UK, but with his accent it sounded… nice. 

A brief moment of silence passed as Bucky regarded you, his lips pursing. 

“You planning on standing there the rest of the night?”

“Got nowhere else to go, so…” you trailed off and let your eyes wander to the wall adjacent to him, even more embarrassed. You could have just gone back to the office to get your keys, though by the time you’d return, it would be well after 2 am. You could just keep banging on the door and waiting for Justin to emerge from his deep slumber. You could pick the-

“Do you wanna come inside?” Bucky offered, tearing you from your thoughts and taking you by surprise.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,” you said, shaking your head.

“I can’t let you sit out here for the next 8 hours,” he replied matter-of-fact.

You were surprised once again by his chivalry, and looked at him mildly perplexed before nodding. “Okay, thank you,” you said with a small but genuine smile. Bucky nodded once, then stalked back into his apartment with you following behind.

You had assumed his place would look similar to your own, in basic layout at least, and you were proven right. But you weren’t expecting it to look quite so… bare. So un-lived in. He’d been here what, six weeks now? Seven?

"You’re out pretty late for a work night," he commented as you glanced around.

"Am I?" you replied absentmindedly. You hovered near the sofa, searching for any hint of Bucky’s personality in the living room.

"You’re normally home by nine,” he continued. That comment got your attention.

"You keeping tabs on me?" you teased with a small smirk, looking at him directly now. He stood across from you, leaning against his dining table, his hands in his pockets.

"I hear you,” he replied bluntly.

"Oh… Well I had some stuff to do and got behind on my work, so, had to stay late. Then the trains were fucked so I kind of like, walked some of it back," you shrugged. Bucky’s eyes widened as you finished your sentence.

"Couldn’t your boyfriend have got you? He has a car, right?" he said with disdain.

"No… I mean yeah, he has a car but no, I couldn’t ask him."

"Why not?" 

"It's complicated,” you said with another shrug. “Anyway I’m sorry, I'm keeping you up.”

"I'm not tired."

“Do you normally stay up past midnight?” 

Bucky didn’t answer, the simple question left hanging in the air. He may not be tired, but you were, and as if on queue you yawned. 

"Take the bed," he instructed, pushing off from the dining table.

You shook your head “No, I couldn’t."

"I'm not having you sleep on the couch."

"No seriously, you've already let me into your home, I'm not taking your bed too.”

"No-"

"If you want me in here I'm taking the couch," you said firmly, cutting him off. It had the desired effect, Bucky raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, fine. Let me know if you need anything."

You sighed and nodded, watching as he walked off into presumably his bedroom before finally sitting on the sofa. You typed out a long, angry text to your boyfriend. Telling him where you were, exactly why you were having to stay in your neighbours flat. Because he couldn’t bloody wake up to let you in and he let his bloody phone die and now you're having to bloody spend the night in the flat of the neighbour you barely know! You hit send. Then sent a bunch of angry emojis before slouching back on the sofa and glancing around the room once more.

You huffed, then sat upright to take your shoes off before standing, unable to resist the urge to snoop. No photographs, no nick nacks. Did Bucky even live here? It was worse than an IKEA showroom, at least they had fake photographs and fake clutter. A floorboard creaked loudly beneath your foot and you froze. You waited a moment, listening for any sounds of Bucky, then creeped back to the sofa to settle in for the night. You felt too awkward to ask for a blanket from the man, let alone even use his bathroom.

You sighed, and stared at the ceiling, silently seething at the whole situation yet feeling incredibly grateful for Bucky’s kindness. You weren’t sure how you were going to repay him, you hardly knew him, but you had to do something in the future. You wondered what sort of things the man liked, aside from apparently jogging and trips to the convenience store. 

You could get him a new water bottle? No, that would be a lame gift.

You could get him a gift card for Adidas? That might seem weird…

You could buy him some damn plants to make his place more homely? But he might be rubbish at looking after them and they could die.

A bottle of beer? Too basic.

A bottle of wine? Too risky.

A bottle of whisky? Too presumptuous. 

You groaned quietly. Why did you have to overthink so bloody much. You closed your eyes, hoping the answer would come to you in your sleep.

It felt like no time had passed when you woke up to your blaring alarm. Usually you wake to the sound of snoring, so the silence was disconcerting. As were the completely different surroundings, until you remembered you’re in Bucky’s flat. You sat up, careful not to rub your face and ruin yesterday’s makeup. 

“Morning,” Bucky said in the quiet, making you jump. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and oh Lord, grey sweatpants…

“Morning,” you mumbled, then awkwardly stood up from the sofa as you cleared your throat. You noticed his eyes give you a once over, and hoped your hair wasn’t too much of a mess. Then you wondered how long he'd been lurking there. "Sleep okay?" "Y-yeah, thank you," you replied. Bucky's eyes dropped to the sofa where you just were, and you worried if you looked weird for not asking for a blanket.  "Did you? Sleep okay?" you asked before your previous thought could spiral. He nodded.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" 

"No I umm, I need to go get ready for work… Thanks for letting me use your couch, again, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You hovered, unsure what you’re supposed to do, if anything. You then nodded, and walked to his front door. You tried to open it but it was locked. Of course it’s locked, it’s his bloody apartment.

God why were you so awkward sometimes.

Bucky walked over, removing a set of keys from his pocket. You took a small step back, the close proximity making you feel unusually flustered. His cologne wafted into your nostrils, and you cursed the fact your boyfriend struggled to even remember to wear deodorant half the time. Bucky unlocked the door, and you quickly stepped out.

“Thanks, again,” you said quietly as you walked down the corridor. You waited until he shut his door before letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

You gave Justin an earful once the banging on the door woke him up. His sleep was apparently less deep now it was the morning. You hated how the man could literally sleep for 16 hours straight if he didn’t have you to wake him up. He found it funny you had to stop over at Bucky’s, which only made you more mad. How was it possibly funny. How did he fall asleep not even knowing when you would be coming home from work! He didn't see the big deal.

You didn’t spend a second longer than needed in the flat before leaving for work in a huff.

[scaryscarecrows]

“What’s the matter with him?” Mark demands.

“Do I look like I know?”

“I can’t see you, Antoine, I don’t fucking know, just give me something to work with–”

“Shut up,” Jimmy orders from the console. “I’m looking at something.”

The comms fall silent. Jason whines when Antoine adjusts the pressure on his ribs.

“Well?”

“Look for bites.”

“He’s covered in bites, man, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”

“Little bites. Maybe a green tinge around the edges.”

One does turn up, on his arm, buried amongst scratches. Not a lot of green, but it’s there, and the punctures are smaller than the ones on his shoulder.

“Found one.”

Jimmy swears.

“Oh, fuck…okay. So. These files are fragmented; someone tried to delete ‘em, they just did it wrong. You know.”

“We can’t all be you.”

“They bred something else here. Something nasty. Poisonous bite, causes hallucinations, seizures, eventual brain death.”

“Not physical?”

“They, uh. Their nesting habits.” Jimmy sounds like he’s going to throw up. “They open you up and lay their eggs…uh…in you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Antoine eyes the green bite with a new respect. “They made these things on purpose?”

“They were supposed to destroy them.”

This place is run by crazy people. That’s the only explanation. When people have more money than God, bad things happen.

“Shoot me if I ever become a billionaire,” he mumbles. “So what now?”

“Doesn’t say.” Tck-tck-tck. “I don’t know if they ever figured it out or if that file’s gone.”

Great. What a good day this is turning out to be.

“Anything helpful?”

“Sorkin,” comes the rapid reply. “Dr. Sorkin. You remember, hippie-lady.” Like Jimmy isn’t a giant hippie. “They were her thing. If anyone would know, it’d be her.”

“She still alive?”

“She was on the main island last check-in. We might–big fat might–be able to reach her.”

“Try it,” he orders. Then, “Everybody get all that?”

“Yeah,” Mark says shortly. “Gimme status, here, what’s going on?”

“Shitton of lacerations. Blood loss. Broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, probable concussion. Apparent hallucinations.”

“Any lucidity? He recognize you at all?”

“He's not attacking us," Antoine says hesitantly. "And he did come back here. So. On some level, maybe?"

“I'll take it.” Mark’s voice is dry. “The bones will keep. Focus on stopping the bleeding, try not to move him more than you really have to."

No shit. Jason, at least, has stilled, but he’s still conscious, eyes flitting nervously around the room. Antoine grabs what turns out to be a canvas bag, figures it’s fabric and it’ll do, and wraps it around his arm, covering the green-tinged bite from view.

“That stays there,” he warns. The smile he gets is quick and forced and terrifying in its own right.

“‘Course, sir. Whatever you say.”

Christ. All roads truly do lead to home, don’t they? That clown was allowed to live for far too long, in Antoine’s personal opinion. Batman–or some enterprising citizen–-should have taken care of him long before he got the chance to die of boils or whatever it was.

“Yeah,” he says shortly. “Just be still and don’t touch anything."

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 19

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: When one chapter becomes three. The main scenes for the next two upcoming chapters were written way back when I was struggling with chapter six. It was meant to be chapter eight but the plot got away from me a bit. This chapter started out as a little extra tidbit at the start but ended up growing into its own thing and for once I didn't delete an Izzy POV chapter.

Thank you to @fistfuloftarenths, @captainsigge, @dustdeepsea for always being my wonderful betas and providing me with encouragement. If it weren't for you all I think I would've deleted this chapter.

Dust also had the great suggestion of including the clip from Izzy's notebook and showed me how to do all the lovely formatting you will see in this chapter <3. (Check the AO3 link for that and additional footnotes as it's not in the tumblr post)

Also a shout out to @coreene for having such a treasure trove of lore on her tumblr! Always super helpful for fleshing out the background world lore.

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut.

By now rotten luck had coloured most of Isolde’s life. 

It seemed to her that it had all begun after her parents' untimely deaths when she was sixteen.

What had begun as one bad year became two, with her exile to some gods forsaken farmlands and her first heartbreak at seventeen. 

The following year had appeared to break the trend—she had been offered the position of sizar at the university where her parents once taught. Only in reality it had simply been a year spent building the framework for a truly devastating nineteenth year and an end to her academic aspirations. Her first lover came and went. First friends came and went. Corra was the only good thing to come out of her short-lived scholastic career.

The jobs had been like that too. Someone would turn traitor or stupid. Load bearing beams would give way. Priceless urns would be full of fucking venomous spiders. Only now she had been prepared for rotten luck. Moulded by it.

Now she always slipped a spare trinket under her blouse or in her boot just in case the job didn't pay. Now she kept her valuables in a safe deposit box on the off chance her room got ransacked again. Now she slept in her road breeches with a knife under her pillow, and while she'd never been trained to kill, jabbing someone who wasn't expecting it gave you a good head start on an escape. 

Seventeen years of bad luck had taught her to be prepared and to be persistent. She had survived and even sometimes thrived because of it.

So now, as she watched the sailors drag her chest up onto the deck of the ship, she felt especially stupid.

“My tools are in there! I've paid you good coin to transport those!” She screamed, but her voice could barely be heard by the man next to her over the crashing of the waves. 

The ship rocked under another violent tumult of wind. The tempest had come upon them without any warning, clear blue skies had become turbulent greys streaked in black and white in mere moments. There wasn't even supposed to be storms like this on the Sword Coast for another month. It was just her luck. 

Distantly she heard cries to cut the main sail.

The sailor looked as contrite as one could in the midst of a squall. “Sorry lass, bitch queen needs her offering!” 

And despite the pelting hail and whipping winds it was the word lass that made her flinch. 

‘Should have never gotten aboard a ship out of Neverwinter,’ she thought bitterly as she watched them tip her chest into the sea.

The contract she had taken in Baldur's Gate was an easy forgery job. She could've sat nice and safe in a room at the Elfsong scribbling away before meeting Rugan. She would've made a mint for doing hardly anything at all. But now her seals were gone and with it the contract.

Standing on the docks, Isolde weighed her options. It was alright. This was manageable. She still had the clay impressions of her fake seals in her pack. The sheep’s bladder she kept them in had protected them from any water damage from the storm. A half-way competent smith could recreate the seals from the pressings easily. But just how much would halfway decent cost her? More than she had left, it turned out. Most of her coin was now at the blacksmith's, and that was only the first half of the payment.

Her hand strayed time and again to where her insurance necklace would be, but she had pawned it. Pawned it for the same reason she had come to the city. The same reason she was flat broke. At least she could make that bastard buy her a drink. Blame him heartily for her misfortune. And if he smiled at her even once her fool heart would find the whole venture worthwhile.

“Sorry, miss, believe his caravan is on the road right now. Haven't seen him in a tenday.” The man behind the bar at the Elfsong shrugged.

It was just her rotten luck.

In weaker moments of her life she had considered leaving offerings to Beshaba at those little roadside shrines made of antlers and twigs. But no, fuck that deer-headed bitch. And fuck Umberlee too, while she was at it.

The barkeep looked apologetic, just as the sailor had, but that wasn't going to help her out in any way, shape or form.

She would need to find another job to take on. Isolde considered the other local contract she had ignored on account of the risk. There was nothing for it now. She leaned back in her stool and sighed. So long and low and frustrated that the man gave her another sympathetic look.

“Drink might help with that, miss.”

She opened her coin purse and eyed the few bits she had left.

“Give me the strongest thing you've got for two silvers.” She said sliding the coins across the table.

The man nodded and exchanged them for a pitcher of wine and a tall glass.

“If it's not a pressing issue,” he added as he poured the first glass full for her. “Could leave a letter with me if you like. He's in here every night when the caravan’s not on the road.”

Isolde perked up at that. “If you wouldn't mind.”

“Half the point of an inn is to have a place to send letters. I even mail some out if you've got a coin for the ship’s captain.”

Isolde almost took out her pen and ink right there, but then thought better of it. No sense trying to hastily scribble a note at the bar where some other patron would knock their elbows against hers and make the barman regret his offer.

Scooping up her glass and pitcher, pack slung over her shoulder, Isolde tipped her head in thanks and made for one of the alcoves at the far end of the taproom.

The Elfsong was much nicer than she had expected. The floors were worn but well-maintained, the drapes were not frayed and had minimal patching. She had been told more than once this place was a tourist trap, but when Rugan had called it his local she had presumed it to be something more akin to a dive bar. Had that been unkind of her? The Blackstaron and the Prow in Waterdeep had both been nicely kept inns, even if they had managed to get themselves kicked out of the first one.

She was broken from her train of thought when another patron collided into her, the wine from her glass sloshing over her hand.

“Sorry, love.” The man offered though he didn't even bother to meet her eyes as he and his date brushed past and grabbed the seat she had been eyeing. The date gave her a look that was half amusement, half pity, and Isolde muttered a curse under her breath as she stalked down to the next alcove.

Carefully she placed her wine down on the table, mindful of how it still undulated in its confines. With her clean hand she withdrew a rag from her pack and wet it with her waterskin, wiping clean the other before finally seating herself. 

As she unpacked her writing tools she wondered idly if this was the same seat Rugan liked to frequent. Would he have a regular seat? She should've asked the barman. No, on second thought that was a terrible idea. Isolde had seen and chosen to ignore the pitying look the man had given her when Rugan's name had slipped her lips. Didn't need to let him know how badly besotted she was, admitting it to herself was embarrassing enough.

She drained her first glass before setting pen to paper. This one was easy enough to write, and feeling a bit bold she applied a thin layer of vermillion to her lips as the ink dried. She marked the page with her lips and hoped it would make Rugan suitably unhappy about standing her up.

There was another letter she should write, though she wasn't too pleased about it. 

‘It might not be necessary.’ She tried to tell herself. 

She pulled out her leather bound notebook. It was a tiny thing, worn at the edges, about as wide and long as her hand but maybe two finger-span thick.

The contact information for the job had been hastily scribbled on one of the thick pages, just in case.

It had been Isolde's father who had taught her how to bind books, but it had been her mother who had taught her how to spot traps.

There were many things to take into account, but it came down to a few large considerations:

Was this culture known for booby-trapping tombs? Was this a place or person of importance?

An Imaskari noble would have a much more dangerous mausoleum than a Tharrian peasant.

Was there irregular wear on the ground that might suggest its builders walked a specific, safe path?

Pressure plates were a simple trap and thus effective trap. They stood the test of time better than more complex machinery.

Were there intricate patterns on the structure that could conceal glyphs?

Metal lasted long but magic lasted damn near indefinitely and could do far more damage.

One should be wary on any job, but if the answer to any of these questions was yes then doubly so.

Isolde had a similar list of tell-tale signs when it came to selecting jobs.

Was this client known to her network?

One tended to see the same familiar faces handling these operations. Sure muscle and labour would be locals, but the showrunner was usually one of two dozen folks who had the training to identify a site or the connections to fence the goods. Some characters were more trustworthy than others.

And no, the folks named here were not known to her or anyone she had asked.

Was the site near a city centre?

They oft times were—cities tended to grow on the bones of their forebears, like Luskan and Illusk. This meant more secrecy was necessary, but also less violence. Harder to hide a body and its eventual rot. Out in the wilds you didn’t even need to bury a corpse for it to never be found.

This job was definitely not near a city.

Was the pay reasonable?

Too high meant this was a con, you were lucky if you only came out empty-handed. Too low meant whoever was in charge didn’t even know what their goods were worth, if anything, and they didn’t know the running cost of a black market archaeologist.

Too low, far too low.

She had already known all this, but somehow had hoped the details might have changed since she last looked at the notebook. Isolde groaned and threw her head back against the wall of the booth. She was going to have to write the second letter.

Isolde poured and downed two more glasses of wine before she was sufficiently over her shame of having to ask Corra for money. If the forgery job was still around when she returned she’d pay Corra back two-fold.

Maybe she could just wait till Corra’s letter of credit came through, there were cheaper inns in the city, certainly. Gods, maybe a flophouse? But no, after hunting around the lower city and Norchapel it turned out Baldur’s Gate was almost as overpriced as Waterdeep.

‘Should’ve sent the letter and waited before paying for the tools.’ She thought dejectedly.

There ended up being roughly enough coin for a night or two in a flop house, some food for the road and a ride on a caravan heading west. So that was what she resolved to do.

Hopefully, stupidly, she looked for his face amongst the various caravans on the morning she made her way out of Baldur's Gate.

The wagons outside Basilisk Gate were packed end to end—or end to horse as it were. Some people pushed handcarts, perhaps to visit the nearby farms. She also saw oxen hitched to sturdy wagons loaded down with heavier goods. Merchants with lighter goods like the one she accompanied had horses to carry them along faster.

It was a decently nice carriage. Nothing fancy like the wooden conveyances that nobles used, but it had a sturdy canvas roof which was more than most.

The air by now was rank with the dung of a hundred beasts of burden, idling while their masters impatiently waited behind the traffic of a several dozen handcarts.

‘Just like Crimmor.’ She thought with an amused sort of wistfulness.

Isolde noticed then a group dressed in that familiar black and yellow, and her heart struggled to break free from the confines of her ribs. She leaned out the back of the wagon to get a better look. Though she squinted hard there was no one she was acquainted with. Just some red-head with clownish hair, though he had a familiar sort of chin.

“Don't want to be looking too long, dearie. Not a friendly bunch.” Warned the old woman across from her, not unkindly. The merchant’s mother as she understood it.

“Of course, my thanks.” Isolde bowed her head and sat back down on the wagon floor. 

They began moving at last, just as the dawn's early light was obscured by heavy soot coloured clouds. A wry smile twisted Isolde's lips.

“Something funny, dear?”

Isolde turned to meet the woman's gaze. “Just my luck, that’s all.”