#not in the snippet that's safe to click on

[thedragonlies]

Yes, hello. About the WIPs, I read *the succubus fic* there in parenthesis for Fruitful Delights. I'd love to hear more about that please 🙂‍↕️

(Do you have some of it posted? 👀 )

@saladscream you aren't the only one who wants to know!

So yes, the first part of this I actually posted a few months ago, but it continues to languish in my drafts longing to become a series... originally I thought it would be something lighthearted with different pairings around Camelot stumbling on the succubus fruit (which is where the title Fruitful Delights came from). But after finishing part 1, I feel like it's begging for a more serious sequel, with Arthur trying to track down lost knowledge about succubi reproductive cycles and whether he actually already has an heir out there now so he don't need no queen and can marry merlin instead

“I need to access the records that were sealed after the Great Purge. I’m looking for information on magical creatures.”

“Oh, Prince…” the man looked deeply uncomfortable. “King Uther has decreed that those records may never again see the light of day.”

“Well, I am ordering you to unseal them.”

“I’m afraid that would be quite impossible, without word from the king himself. Sire,” Geoffrey added with another bow. 

“Well?”

“I’ll go ask him immediately.” The old man went for the door. 

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed, mouthing, Stop him, as soon as he caught the servant’s gaze.

“Oh! Uh…” Merlin looked around, and finally jostled a bookcase with his shoulder so that a stack of books piled on top fell off and hit Geoffrey in the head, knocking him to the ground, where he lay quite unconscious. 

“Merlin!” Arthur reprimanded. “I meant stop him with magic, not by dropping a bloody bookshelf on him!”

“Oh.” Merlin scratched his head sheepishly. “To be fair, I probably would have just used magic to drop the books on him. That’s what I usually do.”

[starmocha]

ok so I know we're all taken in by colonel caleb and his complexity and i'm enjoying all the smut (🙏🏻💕) but i'm looking at him and thinking about how he'd react if mc got pregnant 'cause in ny head he'd react like I think sylus would as in he'd shower her in kisses while crying but imagine him being scared of holding the baby because of his arm, terrified of hurting that tiny being but the second he holds them the fear goes away and he's planting kisses on the top of the baby's head 🥹😭

CRYING. SOBBING. YEARNING. Anon, if you've been around my blog long enough, I have mentioned numerous times how my 3-part Caleb breeding kink (and pregnancy) series will happen. With the recent revelation about his arm, I was reflecting on how to tackle this series with regards to Caleb's character. I hope his future memories will also deal with this more, so we can get a better understanding of the changes and his own mental state regarding it.

omg ok we all probably know by now I am weak to the Caleb thoughts, so...so...just a little snippet. Just a tiny short snippet...

Sweet Little You

She was safe. They were safe.

Caleb watched with relief as you slept peacefully, exhausted after the grueling 34 hours of labor. He had dedicated his whole life to keeping you safe, protect you from dangers and prevent you from ever feeling pain, but in those long, slow hours, he had felt so utterly helpless as he watched you braved through the tribulations of motherhood.

He knew you were strong, knew that you were more than capable, but it did not deter his innate desire to shelter you.

It had only been a few hours since the baby was born, he realized, as his large hand rested on your head, gently smoothing your hair. He could still see your tears, heard you crying as you poured all of your strength into delivering his baby. You had gripped his hand so tightly, and though that right hand of his could no longer feel anything, his heart still did, torn apart at every scream, every sob that passed your lips. He did his best to encourage you, reassured you that everything was going well, that soon you both would meet your little one.

He wasn’t sure if what he had said helped or not, but you had still held his hand, holding tight to him just like long ago when you two were little. Maybe you still needed him, still wanting to lean on him like you used to.

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on your temple. “Thank you, my darling.”

Caleb’s ears perked up, hearing the sudden quiet fussing of his newborn. He looked to the hospital bassinet placed close to your bed. The baby was starting to stir, waking up from a peaceful slumber.

He quickly moved closer, his paternal instinct kicking in. He bent down lower, his voice softer than normal. “Hey, hey there, little one,” he said, about to reach down for the baby, but he paused, worried.

The baby’s face scrunched up, its cries still soft, but steadily growing just a bit louder. Panic briefly passed Caleb’s features, suddenly unsure of his own ability as a father. He could hear you stirring behind him, but he didn’t want you to wake yet, knowing you still needed more rest. He pushed down his own feeling of anxiety, and he bent down again, gently scooping the baby up.

The baby was so small, he couldn’t help but think, being able to hold the baby within his two hands. He readjusted his hold, cradling the baby within his arms, and his heart felt like it was slowing in time, his breathing almost stilling entirely as it finally seemed to clicked in his mind that he was holding his baby. This little baby, conceived from the love between you and him, was now here, in his arms, and he could barely stifle the sob that almost wanted to escape, his heart suddenly overwhelmed with so many different emotions ranging from disbelief to amazement and finally profound, unconditional love.

The baby’s cries ceased, replaced by soft cooing, and Caleb let out a breathless laughter, his earlier anxiety slowly receding. He still wondered about his capability, but more than that, he wondered how it was possible to love someone you had just met. When his eyes drifted up, settling over your sleeping form, he almost laughed again, realizing he had never found the answer to that question, having always been a willing victim of “love at first sight.”

He shifted his gaze back down to the tiny baby in his arms, his lips resting over the infant’s forehead, the sweet scent of the newborn filling his nostrils, and a warmth unlike anything he had ever felt before filled his chest.

“Welcome to the world, my little one,” he whispered, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

[rollingeevee]

good god your bite post has invaded my mind and it hasn't left since i read it, it's spinning in my brain like in a microwave

all i can think about is shadow milk's little (prey) lover running away and getting somewhat far, thinking they're actually getting away with it until the bite's effects kick in and suddenly it's so hard to think and move and where were they going anyway? what if they just sat down and stared into space for a while? that would feel nice, right?

the magic oozing from the bite squeezing their brain and soul, making everything feel heavy and fuzzy until shadow milk just strolls by, clicks his tongue, teases them a little for trying to leave and goes to pick them up and bring them back

there's no kicking and screaming, they cannot muster up the mental strength to do it, just slight bitter resignation on their part as they can do nothing but accept their fate and perhaps try again at a later date but there's a little voice at the back of their head that doesn't understand why they were running away in the first place, a voice that urges them to melt into their captor's touch (totally not shadow milk's doing guys no it's all you)

mental and magical manipulation? it's more likely than you think!

bonus points if the bite mark's pain gets duller/softer when they behave for their beast

anyway thank you for sharing your thoughts your writing is amazing and if you have more ideas related to the bites i am begging i am on my knees-

AAAAAA I’m so glad to hear you liked it so much! 😭 /VVVPOS

Ooooooo! I quite like this! I can definitely see smth similar happening! Personally tho, I see Shadow Milk taking a more manipulative approach to when he finds his lil runaway darling again. I wrote a lil blurb below to showcase :)

The further you got from the Spire, the more relief you felt. By the Witches… you’d done it! You were free!

You suddenly let out a choked gasp as you feel an incredibly painful tightening sensation in your chest. You fall to your knees, clutching at your heart. Your mind is empty as your body feels like it is being squeezed, your breath continuously escaping, despite your desperation to pull in air.

“Oh, goodness!” You hear his voice exclaim. “What happened to you, doll?”

What happened? What happened?! What… what did happen…? You were running… Yes, you were running from the Spire! But… why…?

Shadow Milk Cookie tuts sympathetically as he gently scoops you into his arms. “Oh, poor dear… Did you get lost? I told Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie to keep an eye on you and ensure your safety!” He cradles you close to his chest as he makes his way back to the Spire. “Don’t worry, dollface~ Your darling jester, Shadow Milk Cookie, has arrived to save the day! I’ll make sure to get you back home where you belong in no time!” He finishes his declaration with a sweet kiss to your neck, where you can faintly detect a throbbing pain that seems to ease in response to his affection.

Where you belong…? Yes… Yes, right back where you belong… That’s a nice thought…

So why is your heart crying out that something is wrong…?

WEEEEEE! So yes, I can definitely see manipulation being there (it’s Shadow Milk, whaddya expect?), but I can see the magic from the bite invading the mind as it simultaneously attacks the body. You weren’t running for freedom, you just got lost while playing a game. Luckily, your sweet Beast, Shadow Milk Cookie, was able to find you in time before anything terrible could happen to you~! So stay, where it’s safe, and where you’re always within arms reach~

In addition to that, I love the idea of the pain getting duller and duller the more a Beast’s darling behaves for them! I added onto that a lil and made it so that, in addition to that, the only other way for the pain to dull is from direct affection to the bite area by the Beast. This gives further incentive to the darling to be well behaved and compliant for their Beast.

I may try to do lil snippets or one shots for each of the Beasts and their bites going into effect later on, given how much people seemed to like them, but we’ll see! I hope you enjoyed this tho! :D

[willowed-wisp]

apocalypse sex [ könig ]

You are in Austria when the zombie apocalypse strikes- you and a pretty blue eyed stranger called König aim to survive together

You didn’t remember how it went down, that crashed feeling piling onto you was all that could be mustered… the excruciating pain which followed.

Left in the street to die. But you weren’t dead, if only in the days to come. The early days of the apocalypse.

Glad to be in a bed, better than the cobblestone streets you’d been dumped on. Vague snippets filtered through, light eyes furrowed with unneeded worry- arms easily cradling you. That’s when slumber betrayed you. Probably whose bed you found yourself in.

Incoherent words spilled from a masculine voice, surprisingly gentle in your ears. Yet, you couldn’t understand what the man was saying, “I don’t understand, I’m sorry…”

“I said, I’m glad you’re awake… you weren’t well.” Not feeling ‘well’ either, but able to move. Though when you did, a hand rested on your shoulder and you met his face… the same kind eyes in your hazed dream. Something so young about a face that had seen too many atrocities. “Why would someone harm British national?” He must have seen your ID, you couldn’t blame him.

You laughed the nerves away, “I was speaking to the wrong guy, apparently…” The man didn’t laugh, not even cracking a smile. You wondered if he actually could look anything but worried on the verge of tears. “I’ll be on my way… I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Everywhere ached but you’d had worse, a police officer by trade in London. That’s why when this mountain of a man blocked your way, you reached for the imaginary gun you had been specially trained to you in unforeseen situations.

“It’s not safe out there,”

“To me, it doesn’t feel safe in here…” That’s only when you noticed the static on the television huddled in the corner. Strange… you were in Vienna, there must have been service. That doomed look on his face told you as much, “How long was I asleep for?”

“A day…”

“And what’s happened in that day?” Peeking out the window, fire consumed some of the city while trash scattered the streets. Ignoring the people walking. “Rioting?”

He shook his head, “A weapon was released… infecting anyone by the bloodstream.” It clicked.

“Zombies?” You sounded much too nonchalant… that’s why you were in Vienna, investigating reports for HQ. You unfortunately rubbed people up the wrong way in Austria. “Fuck… we need to get moving…” He watched you walk across the room, out to the living area of his apartment. It was bare, lifeless as if he was never there on the frequent. “I never asked your name. I’m Y/N.”

You sat on the sofa while he loomed, “They call me ‘König’,”

“Who’s they? You’re friends?”

He looked out of the window. Hung up on one detail. “You’re taking this zombie problem too well, officer…” He was too observant for his own good.

“Who are you, ‘King’?” You were smarter than you looked… he admired that in an adversary.

Something in his eyes toyed with you, a buzz of some kind. “I’m your friend, we’re going to need each other to survive out there…”

That you agreed on.

You laughed in his face, “You really want to finish unsigned paperwork now?”

“I need to get to my work… they have things we’re going to need.”

When you arrived, it was burned to the ground. “König, we need to go.” It had all moved so fast, those first weeks. Luckily both of you able to handle yourselves, what you really needed to were guns… to no avail.

König drove most of the time, the only time he looked at peace. You hadn’t really spoke much, always having your eyes wide open for potential threats. But in the countryside, where very little people inhabited- you could exhale properly for the first time.

Especially when you found a possible refuge. Passing by a lake- you saw an island out in the clear waters and on the tuft of green in the turquoise glimmer, you spotted a cabin. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“A decent nights sleep?” It didn’t take long to find a rowing boat on the dock your side of the lake. Both equally doing your work, loading up any supplies you had acquired on the way. Tinned food, bottles onto of bottle of water. Luckily König was a big guy… and you couldn’t stop watching him in that previous week.

He had saved your life with an axe in the grocery store, it seemed to be his preferred weapon choice. Ever since, you couldn’t stop the wondering.

The settlement looked like a holiday outlet, it was out of the way of civilisation and had its own livestock on the stretch of island behind your viewpoint on ‘mainland’. Cows, chickens… it was there. Luckily you watched your farming programmes…

König did the security sweep of the two story property himself, deeming it clear. “Still has electricity…” He marvelled.

“There’s a wind turbine out back and solar panels on the roof… these guys were ready for an apocalypse…” Head up looking at the haven you had uncovered, not paying mind… crashing into the body beside you. His hands held the back of your head and your the base of your back. In an ode to keep you upright.

He made you feel incredibly small, “Gotta be careful, kleine dame…” You almost blushed at his handsome smile, eyes shining down on you.

That night you sat by the fire, in the cozy cabin. Having eaten soup beforehand… life couldn’t be too bad like that. Huddled under a blanket, too preoccupied staring at the warm lit visage of the man who had saved your life more than once. Before he peered back in you, a lopsided grin on his lips

“Doors locked?” You asked before heading to bed… a nice comfortable bed instead of the inside of that crappy Peugeot you’d picked up along the way.

He hummed a ‘yes’ to you. All power off, all windows boarded up. “The people who lived here had an eye for security systems…” How he knew the code was beyond you but you’re pretty sure he said he’d grown up nearby and fished the lake with his grandfather. You shrugged it off.

Going downstairs you noticed the pictures hanging up, on the second floor landing. A remarkably tall boy stood with his grandparents- catching his first fish… this was König’s place…

You stepped to the room he’d settled in for the night, only to find him dripping wet from a shower. Only in a towel hung around his hips, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked!” Before darting out of the room… too focused on the rippled flesh of his abdomen rather than the colours of the walls. You checked on the livestock, naming each of them in your head. Getting mixed around every time they moved.

A hand grazed your hip for a split second, “This was your grandparent’s cabin, wasn’t it?” He gave a nod. “And you’re the guy with good tastes in security systems?”

He seemed trapped in his own thoughts, “I knew it was safe here, we’d have everything we needed… and yeah I’m the security guy-,” You didn’t care, hands placed on his scarred forearms- craning your neck up, kissing König. Just a small token of your growing affection. He tasted like sea salt and smelled like ginger and sandalwood. “Damn, you beat me to it…”

A hand pressed against what felt like rock but was in fact his chest, “We’ve got many more of those to come…” Not helping the purr in your voice, sultry to a fault. All completely intentional.

Though, something told you he’d have trouble initiating anything.

You were truly mistaken.

That night, nails dug as fingers wrenched in his growing out dirty blonde hair. Tongue riveted along your folds, watching him work before he flicked the sweet spots you didn’t even know existed. That had your head against the dining table, toes curling on the edge. Fingers added, corkscrewing in and out of your wet pussy had you whimpering. Only able to get part of his name out.

His hands wrapped around your ankles, propping onto his shoulders. Bending your legs so your knees were at your waist, mouth invading deeper. Kissing and marking his territory, careless moans thrown into the void. Curses tossed out, fingers teasing your bud while he devoured.

Tasting yourself on his lips, fucked out already, “This isn’t over, prächtig.” Draping your legs around his hips, holding your ass as his carried you to the bedroom you’d found him half naked.

Walls a dark grey and military decor splattered here and there. Fingers at your chin, kisses twining the two of you. A shared effort to get the t-shirt over those broad shoulders. Hot, bare flesh under your fingertips. Muttering a swear, open-mouthed adoration consuming you. Tracing along rough and ready skin, he keened away, “Sensitive? How ‘bout here?” A palm at his denim, you witnessed König melt. Caging you in under him, never breaking contact.

Thick fingers teased- delving at a slow pace - curling at that sensitive patch inside. Breathless gasps coming from you in ebbs and flows, “Be loud, schatz…”

“Still so shy, even after making me come on your tongue…” Caressing his soft cheek, eye contact broken. Clenched down only for him to pick up the slack- feeling yourself gush with a wail. Grasp on his forearm tightening, your face pitifully scrunched up. Mouth carved to an ‘o’.

König’s warmth gone as he stood, tall and domineering. Unbuckling his belt, though you could see the outline in the blue fabric before. White underwear, black elastic at the top. Subdued but in tune to your surroundings, your eyes wide. His height corresponding at the thick, lengthy outline. Scarred hand giving it a rub, looking down at the mess in between your legs… the pool on the already dark covers. “Fucking hell…” It slapped across the trail of dark hair down the lower half of his stomach. V-line encasing the well defined cock in front of you.

How was it ever going to get inside you? You hadn’t had sex in a while, and this was the thing that would prize you open. You salivated thinking about it. His weight dipped against yours, seating between your legs. “Don’t look so scared, Y/N,” A thumb against your bottom lip, claiming both once again. Laying you down, the same thumb rubbing your face. “I’m going to go slow…” Resting on his knees, you couldn’t help but touch the thickness. He huffed so sweet at whatever touch you gave him.

Lifting your hips up with one of the pillows, legs stretched to fit his hips. Cold air hitting your bare parts, his legs filled the chill. You didn’t look, as his tip sank in. A sharpness turned into pleasure as the rest of him burrowed inside of you. Hands stapled to his neck- look at every twitch in König’s features. A loud groan from him, “Scheiße…” All that more attracted to him from that angle, incoherently in a void between dizziness and suffocation. Fleshy walls swollen around his girth. “I don’t think I can control myself, schatz…”

Your mind delirious and vision like a kaleidoscope, “Give it to me…”

König struggled to move, which made his movements more erratic. Hands everywhere on him, maiming him any time he bucked. Movements not rough but pent up.

Wriggling too much, his hands clamped down on your raised hips while ploughing you. Lifting your ass off the bed, fucking into you. Slaps of skin and strained choruses of teeth gritted screams was all that could be heard. Discomfort outmatched by carnal tears… He knew when you came- each time you did. Pulsing around him, almost pushing him out. That’s why he ground so deeply. And that’s when he’s name came out in a squeal.

Before his body buckled, hilted in you. Holding your wrists down, all while you milked him dry. So right, so soft… all his from now on. This giant of a man inside of you.

What a way to spend the zombie apocalypse…

————

Thanks for reading :)

————

masterlist

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (3 - The Neighbor)

Chapter Summary: Agnes sees the perfect opportunity to stir up some trouble while Wanda deals with her jealousy toward your work assistant, Geraldine. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 2.8k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: I really have nothing to say except that I enjoyed writing Agatha in this chapter // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The team has been at a standstill, figuring out who’s behind this, or how to communicate with anyone trapped inside the town. Every drone they've sent in morphs into something entirely different, thwarting their efforts to gather any useful intel. The people sent underground to scout a safe route through have gone dark, their communication cut off. No one else volunteered to attempt approaching the perimeter after that.

The broadcasts they've been tracking are erratic, cutting out for hours with no warning, making it hard to keep a consistent eye on the town's odd behaviors. But it's during one of these quiet periods when something clicks in Darcy's mind.

“I think I have something,” Darcy blurts out to Jimmy. They’ve been scraping the bottom of the barrel, running out of faces to identify from the snippets of life in Westview they caught on screen. 

“Yeah?” Jimmy gives her a tired look, only half-listening. He can't remember the last time he managed more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep. Even if he could find the time to rest, the bizarre situation they're in won't let his mind relax. 

Darcy sighs and leads him outside the tent.

“So, you’ve seen that radio on Wanda’s kitchen counter, right?”

Jimmy only nods.

Darcy continues, “The next time she’s washing dishes, or whatever—which by my count—happens about once an episode, barf, we’ll shoot a signal to that little guy.” She leads him to a set of computers set up behind a pickup truck. Jimmy doesn’t understand what’s going on with these systems, but he’s hoping Darcy really is onto something.

“This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast,” she pauses to catch her breath in the cold and to give him time to catch up with her science. “And if my theory is right, it will allow us to speak to her.”

She cuts off any chance for Jimmy to comment and assures him, “This is definitely going to work.”

–

The annual Westview Harvest Festival is in full swing. The town square is packed with booths overflowing with baked goods and fresh fall produce. A small stage is set up for the local band playing tunes from the 70s, while kids dart around in all directions, their faces painted with fanciful designs. Billy and Tommy are with their preschool teachers, who are keeping them and other children their age occupied with arts and crafts that involve tumbleweeds—a material no one seems to think is entirely safe for five-year-olds to play with.

In hindsight, it’s the ideal setting for introductions and mingling. However, everyone here already knows each other—everyone, that is, except for Wanda. She makes an effort to blend in, but apart from a few interactions with the planning committee, which weren’t particularly fruitful, she often remains secluded at home. This makes you, the only one in the household who heads out daily for work, the more socially connected of the two. It’s both amusing and slightly anxiety-inducing to watch you interact with the townsfolk who are essentially strangers to you and to Wanda, if only you knew. You and Wanda never had the opportunity to live a normal life, to settle in a typical city, surrounded by neighbors who could have become integral to the life you might have built together. 

Seeing you interact with these people, she’s realizing it’s harder than she thought to share you with others. Or maybe she’s just as selfish as she’s always been, never really outgrowing it. When you were both part of the Avengers, it was like living in a bubble, surrounded by only a few familiar faces every day. Now, outside that controlled environment, it’s challenging her expectations and stirring up feelings she thought she had under control.

It becomes particularly tough when she sees Geraldine heading towards you, sporting that perpetual, dazzling smile full of perfect white teeth. Wanda's fingers curl into a fist, tiny wisps of red energy leaking from them. You quickly cover her hand with yours, and the effect is immediate—she relaxes slightly, letting you intertwine your fingers with hers, anchoring herself by your side where she feels secure.

“It's so nice to see you outside of the office, just being one of us for a change,” Geraldine says, though she seems to be wearing the same uniform as at work. Not that you're judging, but it does make you wonder why she hasn't changed.

“Definitely beats being stuck behind a desk,” you reply, your attention briefly wandering. Only then do you notice that Wanda has subtly withdrawn her hand from yours, now exploring a booth with homemade apple cider. You hadn't even noticed the exact moment she let go.

“Hello, Wanda!” Geraldine greets her warmly. 

Wanda musters a tight-lipped smile that’s convincing enough, as Geraldine appears quite taken with it. Just then, Geraldine spots Agnes standing a little away from the crowd, lingering behind Wanda with a look that borders on suspicion or disdain. 

Geraldine steps up to her while Wanda continues to busy herself with whatever else is being showcased in the booth. “Hi, I'm Geraldine. Isn’t this a wonderful evening?” She extends her hand to Agnes.

Agnes eyes the offered hand but doesn’t accept it. Instead, she sizes up Geraldine with a quick once-over and nods, foregoing any introductions. Geraldine's smile falters briefly, but she quickly shakes off the slight, tossing a brisk, “See you around, Y/N!” over her shoulder as she heads back to her table.

You wave back and let out a sigh, relieved that you’ve just sidestepped what could have been the most awkward moment of your life. Wanda’s jealousy towards Geraldine seems more serious than you’d realized. You know Wanda can be possessive; it's just been a long time since it's manifested this way. But then, it's also been a while since you've both been in a crowd of strangers like this. Since…

Since when, exactly?

“Y/N, honey?” Wanda’s voice snaps you out of your fog.

You blink. “Hm?”

“I’m thirsty.”

Just like that, you’ve forgotten about your lapse of memory, replaced by a desire to tend to your wife's needs.

“I’ll get us some refreshments. What would you like?” you ask.

“Just some water, please.”

“Water here, too,” Agnes calls out, unsolicited. 

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. It's great that Wanda's making friends in the neighborhood, but did it really have to be Agnes O’Connor? Ever since you and Wanda moved into this quiet suburb, Agnes has made it her personal mission to be involved in every aspect of your lives. You can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it than the apparent nosiness of your neighbor.

As you head over to get the drinks, Agnes sidles up to Wanda, her eyes gleaming with an opportunity to stir some pot. 

“Geraldine seems quite taken with your wife.”

It’s not like Wanda doesn’t know what Agnes’s doing, but she finds herself nodding in agreement anyway. Your new assistant does appear smitten with you, and while Wanda gets the appeal—you are, undeniably, crush-worthy—she can't say she's thrilled about it.

“Y/N is her boss,” Wanda murmurs, more to herself than to Agnes.

“Oh, honey,” Agnes laughs condescendingly. “Do you even go to the movies? That's how the steamiest affairs start, you know.”

Wanda bristles at the sound of that endearment from someone other than you. But she keeps herself together—barely. 

“I trust her,” Wanda forces out.

As you're getting drinks, Geraldine joins you, picking up a soda herself. She lets out a light laugh at a joke from the bartender, and you find yourself chuckling too, oblivious to the piercing look your wife is drilling into your back.

Meanwhile, Agnes sees her opening and swoops in, linking her arm through Wanda's with a bit more force than necessary. 

“Of course, you trust her, dear,” she murmurs right by Wanda's ear. “But do you trust her?” She points subtly with her chin towards Geraldine, her lips pursed. “You know what they say, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer…”

Wanda's shoulders tense, her entire frame stiffening. As you return with the drinks, Agnes steps away, leaving Wanda visibly shaken, like she’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

“Everything okay?” you ask, handing her a drink. You've noticed before how Wanda's demeanor changes around Agnes; she’s clearly a source of stress for her. It’s going to be a difficult conversation, but it might be time to tell Wanda what you really think about the neighbor.

Wanda takes the water you offer, her fingers trembling slightly as she does. For a moment, she appears distant, disengaged, as if her mind is elsewhere. Then, with a sudden shift, she flashes you one of those smiles that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I'm fine,” she declares, a little too brightly. Then, seemingly out of the blue, she asks, “Is Geraldine here with someone?”

You stop short, realizing you really don't know much about Geraldine beyond work. “I didn’t see her with anyone,” you say.

Wanda nods thoughtfully. Her next suggestion catches you by surprise. 

“Maybe you should invite her over to our table.”

Did you hear that correctly? Had Wanda just done a complete 180 regarding your assistant and was now interested in getting to know her? You shoot a suspicious glance at Agnes. Had she said something to Wanda to change her mind?

“Are you sure?” you ask, puzzled by her abrupt change of heart.

“I am,” Wanda affirms. “It might be nice to make a new friend.”

–

Back at the response camp, Darcy and Jimmy are huddled around the small, grainy television, waiting for the moment Wanda’s in her kitchen so they can send a message through her radio device. However, the usual domestic scenes are conspicuously absent, replaced by static and sporadic cuts to the ongoing Harvest Festival.

“Come on, come on,” Darcy mutters under her breath, shoving her glasses back up her nose. They've been slipping a lot lately, probably because she's been hunching over her work more than usual these past few days.

“It's this festival,” Jimmy says, squinting at the screen. “I think the whole town's out there tonight. I don’t think we’re going to get the chance.”

Their attempts to contact anyone inside the Hex are dwindling, and Hayward's interest leans more towards studying the energy barrier encasing the town rather than resolving the anomaly itself. His latest directive to launch another drone into the barrier feels like a brute force attempt to crack the problem. Jimmy thinks it’s a waste of time—and resources.

“Yeah, and you know what’s worse?” Darcy grumbles. “I have a bad feeling about Agnes. Every time she's around, things just seem to... escalate.”

As they watch, the screen cuts to a shot of Agnes at the festival, linking arms with Wanda, whispering something that makes Wanda’s expression tighten. “See, what did I tell you?” Darcy exclaims, pointing at the screen. “Who’s this Agnes again in real life?” she asks.

Jimmy swivels in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the expansive pinboard filled with photos of Westview residents. Agnes’s face is not among them. 

“No idea,” he says flatly. He had already run a search in the database, but it came back empty.

“So, we've identified Y/N, Monica, and Agnes as outsiders in Westview,” Darcy explains, tallying them off on her fingers. 

“That’s correct,” Jimmy confirms.

“And then there’s Wanda’s sons. But again… we haven’t seen any other children in the show besides the twins.”

Jimmy thinks about it for a while. It had never really occurred to him before. “Maybe they’re bound to show up at some point?”

“Smells fishy to me,” Darcy huffs. Her thoughts circle back to Agnes. “How do you think Agnes ended up here?” she asks, their list of unanswered questions growing daily.

Jimmy shrugs. “She could’ve just been visiting.”

Darcy considers it. It's a possibility, but somehow, it doesn't feel quite right—too simple, too convenient for someone as vibrant and prickly as the character Agnes portrays.

–

It's as if Wanda's animosity toward Geraldine just magically went away. 

They’ve been chatting for almost an hour. Initially, Wanda made sure to include you in the conversation, but as time passed, she and Geraldine started connecting over topics that didn’t involve you as much. Feeling somewhat left out but also at ease that the problem between your wife and your secretary has apparently resolved itself, you decide to check out the festival booths.

This is where Agnes finds the perfect opportunity to get you alone. She starts her approach—to your surprise and discomfort—by acknowledging the elephant in the room.

“I know you don’t like me very much,” she says with a knowing smile. “Maybe we can change that tonight?”

You eye her with suspicion, easily seeing through her blatant attempts to flirt her way into your good graces.

“How exactly are we going to do that?” you ask, crossing your arms in front of you.

Agnes simply laughs off the cool reception you’ve given her. If anything, she revels in it. 

“By getting to know each other, obviously,” she says.

“Right.”

She takes your elbow, and you swear she can feel you recoil at her closeness, yet she doesn’t seem to care. She urges you forward, dictating the pace. Her grip is unexpectedly firm, as if to say you have no choice but to listen—like leaving isn't an option.

With you literally in her grasp, Agnes sets her plans into motion. “So, how did you and Wanda meet?” she asks.

You deliver the narrative precisely as it plays out in your memory, exactly as Wanda implanted it in your mind. “We grew up next to each other. Best friends since we were kids.” 

“How cute,” she says, in that smooth, supercilious tone that usually makes your skin crawl. But this time, with the memories of Wanda filling your head, you hardly notice.

“Yeah, I remember when I first saw her,” you continue, gazing into the distance as if the scene you speak of is right there before your eyes. “It was almost Halloween, and my mom had baked a pumpkin pie to welcome them to the neighborhood. She sent me to deliver it. Wanda answered the door.”

“Love at first sight?”

“More like the opposite,” you say, throwing Agnes a good-natured smile, something you’ve never done before. “She couldn’t stand me, and I felt the same way.”

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Agnes drawls before accompanying it with a short chuckle. “Who knows? Maybe there’s hope for us yet. You might end up not hating me so much after all.”

“Maybe…” you say, the smile reaching your eyes this time.

“Good, good,” Agnes says. “I can’t think of anything more romantic than growing up with the person you’ll be with for the rest of your life. Almost like it’s… sketched out, no?”

You nod at her, not sure where she’s going with this, but you appreciate the sentiment. You consider yourself lucky to have known Wanda most of your life. 

“So, you've lived in Westview your whole life?” Agnes asks.

“Yes,” you nod without hesitation.

“And you've only ever been to Westview?”

“No, of course not,” you laugh, ready to list off places you've been, but suddenly, you can't name any. The cities and trips that should come easily to your tongue just... don't materialize.

Not a single one.

Agnes watches you struggle with a blank expression. A second later, she begins throwing out suggestions, as if trying to help. 

“Canada?" 

You shake your head. 

“California?” 

Another shake.

“New York?”

No. This time, your eyes sting with the frustration of trying to pull something from the haze, realizing there’s nothing there. 

Have you really never been anywhere but Westview?

“Eastview, maybe?” she offers with a bit of sarcasm as she names the town next door.

“I—”

“How strange,” Agnes muses, driving home the final nail in the coffin of your crumbling peace.

You jerk your arm away from her grip and take a few instinctive steps back. “I need to pick up the twins,” you blurt out, seizing the first excuse that comes to mind. “We should be heading out soon.”

Without waiting for her reply, you start walking away, driven by a sudden, intense need to be with your boys, with Wanda. To hold them close, to find some stability. Because right now, you’re petrified by a fear you cannot name. 

“I heard Australia’s amazing this time of year!” Agnes calls after you.

The idea of not having been anywhere but Westview—it’s possible, right? Some people spend their entire lives in one place. But if this feeling—the one that's been gnawing at you lately—is real, if the world outside of Westview is truly non-existent, then what does that say about your life here?

What does it say about you?

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 9.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 2,690 (I tried to keep it short but ended up with a longer version since I wanted to do this idea of sweet loving Dean switching back and forth to soft dom!Dean justice)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: In my headcanon Dean’s a switch and a super soft dom, always making sure you feel comfortable. And mainly playing the dom part because he had noticed how you'd always bite your bottom lip whenever he’s using his deep and authoritative voice with others or how you'd swallow thickly when he kicks into action on hunts, and it dawns on him that it actually turns you on. Dunno whether this is a popular headcanon but guess that's just my take on him, I hope you'll enjoy it!

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

“Are those the same cuffs we’re using on our hunts? Nasty.” you jab with a little playful smile on your lips while you watch Dean smirk and chuckle, rifling through his duffle bag to pull out the familiar pair of handcuffs.

“Yep, that’s the exact pair. But don’t worry, no ghost slime or vamp blood on ‘em.” He assures with a grin, as he makes his way back to the bed.

He kneels down just behind your naked back, the handcuffs grasped in his fingers while he gently tugs at your hands. “You remember the safe word, baby?” He asks, as he leans towards you, a calm and gentle tone in his words when he begins to bring your wrists together behind your back. You feel your excitement kick in, his strong hands coaxing your slender ones to follow his lead with such tenderness - in a way like no one rarely ever gets to witness him despite you.

Your head turns sideways to glance back at him, searching for his eyes to give him a reassuring smile of yours. “Yep, Cherry Pie.” you chuckle lightly. And to prove your point, you drop slightly forward, your naked chest automatically sinking further into the mattress while he pulls your arms behind your back together. He carefully places the cuffs around your wrists, locking them with a quiet click, before giving them a gentle and tentative tug, always checking to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable

“Too tight?” He asks, his tone calm and gentle. “No, it’s a green from my side.” You hum, referring to the traffic light system you’d always use when you'd do something more intense.

Dean lets out a silent sigh of relief, but quickly covers it up with a cocky grin, “Now, remember that time your drunk ass told me you’d want me to tame you like a little brat…? You up for it?” For a moment you swallow thickly, your breath caught in your throat. Wait- shit- He actually remembers that? “I got us something… in case you’re still u-”

“Yes,” you cut him short, the word slipping your lips thanks to your excitement sky rocking now. “Is it another gift wrapped in toilet paper?” You quickly add, trying to distract from your flustered expression. Dean’s smirk widens at your eager response and he moves off the bed to get something from the nightstand’s drawer, “Nah, this one didn’t need packing.” Moments later, he kneels back on the bed behind you, his hands moving to gently caress your skin again. You angle your shoulders, peering back up at him with the side of your face flush against the mattress, your breath increasing as you spot the new toy in his hand. Held up high, letting you see it in its full glory, was a medium-sized, black leather riding crop.

Goddamn. A shiver runs through your body, your heart suddenly racing and the heat pooling between your legs. He begins to slowly run the leather tail of the crop across your bare skin, allowing you to get used to the new sensation. Your breath hitches when it ever so lightly brushes over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and sending another cold shiver down your spine.

“Damn…” you breath out hoarsely, slightly muffled by the mattress. And you suddenly feel your cheeks flush a bit pink at the thought of your following words, “You- … you gonna whip me in shape?”

He chuckles in response, the vibrations of his laughter rippling against your skin. “Oh definitely – can’t tame my girl otherwise, now can I.” He says, before he begins to lightly nudge your legs with the end of the crop. “Lift your hips.” He instructs, his voice calm and gentle yet authoritative.

You wiggle yourself off the mattress in order to lift your hips, your chest still firmly pushed into the blanket as it was a bit difficult to hold your balance with your wrists cuffed behind your back.

Dean notices you swaying slightly and his free hand quickly goes to stabilize you by holding your hip upright. “Good girl.” He murmurs in response, a tone of praise in his voice. He then begins to slowly run the end of the crop down your spine, the leather slowly and gently sliding along the bumps under your skin. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the sensation while the leather tail continues to tease and caress your skin, causing chills to run down your spine and straight to your core.

Without a word, he suddenly smacks the leather down against your ass, the impact stinging but in a way that makes you shiver from pleasure and excitement. You involuntarily wince at the sudden whip, muffling the pathetic noise with the mattress as you bury your face in the blanket.

“Shit- sorry babe,” he apologizes quickly while his hand goes to caress the spot where the leather had hit. He leans to the side to check on your expression, his eyes widened slightly, “You okay?” “Mm-hm”, you confirm, the unmistakable lust carrying your husky voice when the next words slip you, “P-please- please don’t stop- I-” Did you just say that? You bite your lips, your eyes quickly averting his with a hint of embarrassment.

Dean senses your inner conflict and his protectiveness quickly kicks in – you feeling embarrassed in front of him? Nuh-uh, nope, not with me. He thinks for a moment, his free hand gently stroking your ass. Then, a faint grin spreads across his face when it clicks in his head and he realizes what you want but don’t dare to voice.

“Whimper for me…” He suddenly instructs, his voice going low and deep, just the way he knew secretly turned you on. He had noticed it plenty of times before when you were on hunts, never commenting on it, but your subtle reactions never went unnoticed by him.

You freeze, unsure whether you heard him correctly, but your teeth were already pulling at your lip again at that tone of his. Dean notices your hesitation, so he decides to step up his game. He slides the crop up from the back of your thighs, to your ass and then to your lower back.

“I want you to make pretty and needy sounds for me, sunshine.” He murmurs, his voice a low and gentle tone. “I want you to beg while I tame you.” He lightly smacks the leather against the back of your thigh which makes you wince softly against the blanket. “Whimper, and I’ll reward you, little brat.” He promises, his voice gentle yet commanding, trying his best to play the role you secretly long for.

A shiver runs through your body at his words and lord - that firm tone of his does things to you, you would never admit loudly. Slowly, you feel your inhibitions evaporate. And instead lust and desire takes its place.

Leaned onto one shoulder, with your cuffed wrists still behind your back, you slightly tilt your body and lock eyes with him. His expression is a mixture of a knowing glint in his green eyes and a firm look that tells you he won’t stop until you’ll finally let go of that last shred of misplaced shame. A small, tentative smile appears on your face before you put on a desperate and whining expression with a soft small whimper.

He chuckles as he witnesses you following his instructions and slowly giving in to your secret desires, his smirk growing on his lips.

“Good girl…” he praises, then brings the leather back down against your skin, a bit rougher this time, causing a thwack to echo through the room.

“Ah-Mmnnnh!” A louder whine escapes you, not caring any more to stifle them.

He leans forwards so that his mouth is right by your ear, his breathing heavier than usual. “That was better… much better sweetheart.” He places a kiss on your jawline, before the end of the crop’s suddenly sliding against your side. “Do you wanna know what that little display earned you…?” he asks, his hot breath tickling your skin and making your own breath hitch briefly.

He then pushes his hips forwards, his chest flush against your back. “Can you feel that?” He asks, his voice a low tone. “Can you feel just how hard you make me, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, God you’re really hard…” You say, your breath shaking slightly when you feel his cock twitching against the fabric of his pants, grinding against you.

He chuckles at your response, “Yeah… that's all because of you, sunshine…” He bites his bottom lip, secretly begging you to never feel embarrassed again for something that brings you pleasure. After a moment, he pulls back again, his heart rate rising as well now. “Turn over for me, sweetheart.” He instructs, his tone still demanding, determined to get you more hot.

You do as told and roll over, your wrists buried beneath your back as you settle down again. Then he slowly runs the end of the leather down your breasts, making your breath increase and a soft moan leave your lips. Dean has to bite back a groan at your reaction, before he scoots closer to you, sitting on his knees between your legs. One hand on your thigh and the other holding onto the leather crop. “You’re in for a treat, my good girl.”

He runs the end of the riding crop up the inside of your leg. “Just relax… I wanna see how well you can listen…”

You nod and lower your head back down into the mattress, while your legs shiver under the touch of the riding crop, both in anticipation and desperation. He slowly runs the leather up your leg, and onto your stomach, making you squirm. He chuckles when he sees you raise your head to glance towards it, trying to guess the next smack. “Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me…” You let out a frustrated whine while you reluctantly tare your gaze from the leather crop and back to him. Dean grins, amused by your reaction, but quickly continues in his dominant persona, trying not to break character for you. “That’s it… just focus on me, little brat…”

He then flicks the riding crop in the air before gently moving it down towards your inner thigh. He licks his lips when you let your head fall back into the mattress obediently and his eyes lock onto your dripping wet folds. You feel the end of the leather move up your thigh, before he places it over the top of your covered clit. Your legs tremble and your hips subtly buck, desperate for more friction, the teasing killing you at this point. Dean ignores your eagerness and slowly drags the end of the leather over your clit, his breath now short and quick with his own need. “Are you being a good girl…? Or you still need some tamin’ by good ol’ Winchester?”

“Mm-hm” you whimper shakily, your mind a haze by now but Dean knows the answer was clearly for the latter.

He chuckles when he hears your needy sound, finally allowing yourself to let go. “That’s what I thought…”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily when you feel his fingertip brushing against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. You whimper and your cuffed hands behind your back twist in a desperate effort to clutch the sheets. “God - So wet already for me…” he murmurs under his breath, his voice a deep groan.

“Guess I’ma have to scold you a lil’ more, hmm…” He hums, the riding crop being dragged up the other side of your inner thigh now. A shiver runs up your legs, the leather feeling like sparks against your skin. He then brings the crop down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to leave a mark, but also hard enough to make it sting.

“Ah-hnnn,” Your entire body twitches and you wince from the stinging sensation. You quickly bite your lips, your eyes rolling back and your head pressed into the mattress.

Dean’s persona falters briefly at your intense reaction. “Jesus…” He whispers. “You good, sunshine..?” He asks, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Color?”

“Green,” you pant softly, your eyes briefly connecting before you drop your head back down.

He smiles warmly when he hears you reply, relieved at your answer. You’re enjoying this.

“Good. Stay still…” He orders, his voice low and firm again. The crop comes down again with a thwat – harder than the last time. You hiss but once again bite back the louder reaction, your leg twitching at the stinging pain mixed with pleasure and need.

He smiles that signature cheshire smile at the sight of you, dripping wet, whimpering, wrists behind your back and the fact that he's the reason for this secret kink of yours. He suddenly notices how his pants grow tighter by the second and a dark stain spreads on the fabric around his crotch. “Just keep being a good girl for me… and you’ll get a really big reward.”

Dean quickly undoes his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers in one, hasty movement. You let out a low moan, your eyes locked on his thick erected cock now freed and twitching from need. He leans over you, his expression suddenly soft and vulnerable. “I love you…” He mumbles against your ear, his words barely a whisper, but suddenly feeling the need to let you know, especially now that he’s acting all rough and dominant for you.

You tilt your head slightly to nuzzle against the side of his face, your voice a soft murmur against his ear, “I love you, too.” You drop your voice lower before you add a little sheepish, “And thank you.” His heart swells when you nuzzle against him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling your body up and against his where your chin comes to a rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for trustin’ me with your secret fantasies…”

He then gently rolls you over onto your stomach again and lays down over you, his front pressing against your back. “Now… I’ve still got some tamin’ to do, don’t I?” he chuckles with a teasing smirk, at which a snort-chuckle slips your own lips and you mutter, “I’ll be a real brat if you don’t.”

“That so? Mmmh… my little vixen, huh.” He hums quietly, massaging and slightly squeezing you. He then lets the leather crop come down on your butt, another loud thwat echoing through the bedroom.

“Ahh-hnng” you whimper softly and you feel your pussy twitch from need.

He smiles at your whimper, before letting the crop come down again, a bit harder this time.

A louder whimper escapes you this time, your hips twitching involuntarily from the increased burning sensation, “I- I’ll be obedient” you suddenly wine, pleading now.

He chuckles again, his voice still gruff as he’s playing along. “Of course you’ll be… and I’ll reward you for that.” He pats your reddening skin with his other hand, “You’re such a good girl for me…” his hand slides across your butt and down your inner thighs, feeling again how much you were dripping already. He groans at the sight of you so ready and his fingers scoop up some of it to coat his hardened cock with your juice.

You pant heavily by now, your butt wiggling slightly in an attempt to get closer to him, until he gives you a harder pat on the ass. “Now don’t move that cute ass of yours, ‘kay?” He leans over you to place a kiss on your favourite spot on your neck, rewarding himself with a soft, pleased hum of yours. “I- I’ll be good…”

His free hand goes back to caressing your red ass-cheek again while you can feel the tip of the leather crop press against your inner thigh, gently nudging your legs further apart. He then chuckles cheekily, knowing how much you enjoy him playing this role. So, he purposely lowers his voice even more to imitate his gruff, intimidating hunter-mode-tone while he swiftly slaps your inner thigh.

“Buckle up sunshine, you’re gonna get tamed now.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

[synamartia]

“ Need A Hand … ? „

“ Let's make your thoughts a reality … „

synopsis ┊ ◜ For the weeks following your one-night stand, Alastor was beside himself with a desire still fairly new to him - his mind constantly occupied with thoughts of you and your shared evening. Night after night, he would watch you from the shadows, a familiar ache in the pits of his belly winding tighter and tighter as you tried to recreate the very same event in your mind's eye with your silicone toy. Eventually, having had enough of your failed attempts at self-gratification, Alastor takes pity on your tortured soul and decides to offer his assistance . . . ◞ wc ┊ ◜ 4,130 ◞ warnings ┊ ◜ Alastor x Reader ✧ Afab!Reader ✧ Non-sex repulsed Alastor ✧ No pronouns or Y/N used ✧ Explicit / 18+ Only / MDNI ✧ Sexual situations ✧ Slight Stalker!Alastor ✧ Shower masturbation (Reader) ✧ Mutual masturbation ✧ Vaginal fingering ✧ Tentacles ✧ Hand job ◞ notes ┊ ◜ Can't believe we're already two weeks down! Time sure does fly when you're having fun, huh? Go check out last week's work linked down below on the Coven's Kinktober 2024 masterlist, and don't forget to give some likes, a few reblogs, and a follow to my darling wives~! Heaven and hell knows they deserve it! And to all my Haunted fans: this was a scene I had planned out for Haunted, but decided to cut it after writing 4+ chapters of pure smut. I wanna try to focus on the plot real soon! But don't worry, there will be more sexy times in that series! So for now, enjoy this little snippet~! ◞ links ┊ ◜ syn's masterlist ✧ coven kinktober 2024 ◞

It was only supposed to be a one-night stand; a friend helping out another friend; a one-off occurrence contingent entirely upon your careless mistakes and Alastor's prowess as a deal-making sinner. Weeks had gone by, and you hadn't uttered a single word to one another about it, dancing around the subject almost as if you were afraid to speak of it. As if talking about it outside the safe confines of Alastor's bedroom would make the heated memories disappear and any unspoken thoughts or desires evaporate into thin air, along with the few scraps that remained of your now tattered business relationship and friendship.

But you still found your mind wandering back to that night, struggling to hide the way your cheeks would flush a bright red at the memories flooding your brain; how your voice would crack with both nervousness and excitement when speaking to him about an issue with the hotel or a resident; or how you would rub your thighs together for the smallest bit of friction when he would enter the room and flash you that wide grin of his, the knowledge of your endeavors dancing behind carmine irises.

And in the late hours of the night, after everyone in the hotel had long since gone to bed, you would desperately try to recreate your experience in your mind's eye as your fingers drew fast circles on your clit, your silicone toy plunging deeper and deeper into your needy cunt - Alastor's voice at the forefront of your mind, coaxing you closer and closer, just as he did back then. But you failed every single time; your imagination was simply not enough to get you there, your fingers and toy nothing but a cheap imitation.

It had become a nightly ritual of sorts; when it wasn't done properly, Alastor felt more restless than usual - unable to read more than a single paragraph of his favorite book or properly hunt the deer scampering through his bayou pocket dimension without it. At the end of the day, after all of Charlie's redemption exercises and your basic duties as an employee, you would immediately slink off to your room under the false pretense of exhaustion from a long day's work.

Although you were none the wiser, Alastor was never far behind, slipping into the shadows as you stripped yourself of the hotel's uniform the second you heard the lock on your door click into place. A rush of pride would wash over the Radio Demon when he noticed that you were wearing the new undergarments he'd gifted you, to replace the ones he'd made a mess of so many nights ago - followed by a sense of possession when he eyed the faint bruises and scratch marks on your thighs and breasts that had yet to fully heal.

Once completely nude, your discarded clothing laying in a heap at the foot of your bed, you would saunter off to the connected bathroom, turning the knobs of your shower until steam filled the small space, obscuring your view of anything more than five feet away. He'd listen quietly as you washed off the day's dirt and grime, the hot water relaxing your tense muscles and lulling you into a false sense of security and solitude, the now all too familiar scent of your shampoo wafting through the air and clouding his senses. And he would wait patiently for that tell-tale sigh; the same one you made when he touched you, signaling that his new favorite broadcast was about to start.

The steam was thick, making it so that your silhouette was all Alastor could see as you removed the detachable shower head from its hook, tracing the steel object down your front until you felt it against your heated core. Excitement coursed through his veins as he imagined the expressions you were making, hands gripping tight his microphone as his own muscles flexed beneath his now much too restricting clothes. Eventually, you would begin to moan quietly as the pleasure began to build, raising your leg high enough to rest your foot on the grab bar, using your free hand to spread your folds apart and turning the head until the warm water sprayed directly on your clit.

And when he caught a faint whisper of his name as it fell from your lips, he would sink his teeth into the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent. It was a grand symphony, the sounds you made, and the last thing Alastor wanted to do was interrupt such a beautiful performance before its crescendo and climactic end. He waited with bated breath as your moans rose in volume, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased that elusive high, but like so many nights before, it wasn't enough. Your body felt tense once more as you teetered on the edge of release, unable to push yourself off that cliff despite your intense desire for the freefall into ecstasy.

Soon, the pleasure died down, your orgasm eluding you once again and you eventually gave up on the shower head, a frustrated groan slipping from your throat as you moved to shut off the water. Alastor dissolved into the shadows just before you stepped out of the tub, reaching for a towel folded neatly on a nearby shelf and wrapping it around your body. Careful not to enter your line of vision, he manifested nearby and admired your skin, beads of water rolling down your body to be absorbed by the plush fabric wrapped around your torso and upper thighs, or the bath rug beneath your feet.

For a split second, Alastor had gotten distracted by a faint bite mark behind your left ear made by him during your escapades, and barely avoided being caught in the mirror when you wiped away the thick layer of steam and condensation blocking your view.

Blissfully unaware of your company, you went about your usual nighttime routine, starting with your dental hygiene, then your skin care, then your hair. By the time you finished gently raking your brush through your damp tangles, your skin had dried almost completely despite the humidity of the steamy bathroom, and you discarded your used towel in the hamper near the door as you reentered the main room of your suite. Your frustration was clear by your stiff movements as you made your way to your wardrobe for a fresh set of undergarments and pajamas.

He almost felt bad enough to end your nightly routine in that moment, to help you reach your end that you had been chasing after so desperately night after night. But the promise of an even greater, more illustrious second act in an already superlative performance helped him to steel his resolve and remain hidden from your eyes. And just as he had watched you do so many times before, you closed the doors after picking out something to sleep in and turned on the balls of your feet, walking over to the side of your bed and tossing the clothes on top of the duvet.

Alastor had memorized this scene, eyeing your naked form as you grazed one hand over your abdomen, letting it drift up to your left breast and cradling its weight, slender fingers pinching the sensitive bud between your thumb and forefinger. With a light tug followed by an experimental twist, you sighed as you squeezed the squishy mound, your other hand coming up to mirror its twin. Another sigh, followed by your eyes closing shut and your head lolling back, and then another frustrated groan after a few seconds of teasing your own nipples.

"I should just go to bed..." you would whisper to yourself, your hands dropping back down as you reached for your panties and slid them up your legs. He eyed the way the lace bit into your flesh where the elastic wasn't as stretchy, baring his teeth as he fought back the urge to reveal himself and tear the offensive fabric from your body. Then you reached for the oversized tshirt, pulling it over your head and slipping your arms through, pulling it down until it covered the panties hugging you close.

Alastor wasn't sure why you bothered with clothes - you would end up removing them later on during your efforts. But who was he to question the mind and the methods of an artist as talented as you?

You stood there for a few minutes, looking between your bed and the table beside it, contemplating if you should even make an attempt tonight. You were almost positive that you would fail, just as you had the night before, and the one before that. Maybe if you tried a visual aid, that might help?

With another groan, you didn't waste any more time thinking about it and turned to the night table by your bedside, reaching into the bottom drawer for the obscene toy that had worked wonders for your tense muscles and stressed mind before he ruined your vivid imagination. Tossing it onto the bed, you slid your panties back off before climbing onto the soft mattress, crawling to the center and lying flat on your back. Spreading your legs open, Alastor inhaled sharply when he saw the glistening sheen of your slicked hole, his fingertips overlapping the shaft of his microphone and digging into his palm.

You sighed again, placing one hand on your clothed breast and giving a gentle squeeze, trailing it downwards until you touched bare skin. Grabbing hold of your toy, silicone heavy in your hand, you lowered it to your aching cunt and rubbed the tip between your folds.

Alastor's brows furrowed together in confusion when he realized you had skipped a step, not teasing yourself with your fingers like you had so many nights before. You seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, which was odd but not entirely out of place for your behavior throughout the day. You skipped breakfast that morning, rushed through your work, barely ate any food during the communal dinner Charlie forced everyone to attend, and you had excused yourself much earlier than usual - now you were skipping steps in your nightly endeavors? Something was wrong. Perhaps he had waited too long to initiate a second encounter, and you were beginning to lose interest? Or perhaps you had fallen ill.

"Alastor..." you whispered, rubbing the length of your silicone toy against your clit for a moment or two, then lowered it until it was lined up with your entrance. Part of you wanted to give up before you even tried, knowing full well how this would end from past experience. Closing your eyes, you pushed the toy inside, wincing at the painful sting caused by the stretch, silently cursing yourself for not preparing before this step. But you thought, maybe switching it up might help in the long run, even if it was painful at first.

Alastor watched you from the shadowy corner of your dimly lit room, shamelessly palming himself through his slacks as you took your time in sliding the toy deeper into your aching heat. Part of him wanted to wait longer, to see how long it would take you to come to him, to ask for his assistance. But several weeks had already gone by, and he was beginning to lose what little sleep he was able to get just watching you try and fail over and over again. As much as he wanted to hold out, his impatience was getting the better of him.

"Need a hand?"

"H-huh-?!" you yelped, eyes shooting open and head snapping to your left at the sound of Alastor's static filtered voice. At first you thought you had imagined it, expecting there to be nothing there when you turned your head. "Oh my god!" you screeched when your eyes locked with Alastor's, your entire face turning a brighter shade of red than his hair. He was laying there on his side, head propped up on his elbow and eyes teasing, reveling in your scared reaction.

"Not even close, dear."

In a panic, you pulled the toy from your core and threw it to the side in an attempt to hide it, your legs slamming shut as you moved to sit up. But Alastor stopped you with a single hand to your chest, pressing you back down into the bed as he cradled his own with his free hand. "A-Alastor, what the hell are you-?!" you started, but he only pressed a single clawed digit to your lips, the corners of his mouth pulling up even further than usual. He waited until you were completely silent, then trailed his finger down your chin to your neck until he reached the collar of your t-shirt, tugging on the hem as his eyes traveled further south.

Humming to himself, Alastor looked back up at your face and raised a single brow at the confusion he saw in your eyes. Were you actually confused, or were you just pretending to be shy and embarrassed to get a rise out of him? "Let's not beat around the bush, darling. I know what you've been doing every night since our last encounter," Alastor told you, causing your face to flush an even brighter red, looking away from him as you fidgeted beneath his gaze. "I don't... how?" you asked, only to have him raise a brow at the question, as if he were asking you, 'really'?

Grinning wider, Alastor let his gaze travel back down along with his hand, slipping between your thighs effortlessly and grazing two fingers over your slick entrance. He didn't miss the gasp of surprise tumbling from your lips followed by that same delectable little sigh he'd come to enjoy so much - the same one that had him crossing his legs during Charlie's redemption exercises or pressing himself into the side of the island countertop to hide his growing arousal when you would taste test his dishes.

Dipping his fingers inside your quivering hole, Alastor gave a few shallow pumps before retracting his hand altogether, raising it up just enough for you to see your own slick glistening on his fingers. "Would you like me to help you?" he asked you as calmly as he could possibly manage, enunciating each word as he patiently waited for the consent he just knew you would give.

Releasing a shaky sigh, you didn't hesitate in making your decision, a rush of exhilaration you hadn't felt since the last time you were together coursing through your veins. "Yes," you whispered, staring at his face as something carnal took over, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on you again, to have his lips pressed against yours, to feel the burning stretch of his cock inside your needy cunt as he pounded into you with reckless abandon.

"Very well, dear. But first," Alastor responded, letting his hand slide between your legs again. "My price."

Of course. You knew Alastor was going to want something in return, which was why you didn't go to him after your first week of struggling to reach orgasm - there was no telling what he would ask of you, and seeing as his motives for even being at the hotel in the first place were still very much so a mystery to everyone, you were being overly cautious. And then there was the whole deal-making sinner Overlord thing. But something else that was plaguing your mind: why did he have to say it like he was taking pointers from your resident porn star? "Okay, Angel. What do you want?" you asked, unable to resist teasing him a bit by emphasizing the name.

"Ha! Funny," Alastor said, and suddenly his hand was gone from between your legs and your cheeks were being squished together between his clawed digits as he gripped your chin tight. "I want you to tell me all the naughty little things you thought about each night while you were fucking yourself with that toy," he spat the last word, almost as if he were offended that you chose a piece of plastic over him. And for a while, he was - which is one of many reasons why he waited so long to initiate a second encounter. He wanted you to suffer the burning ache of a lost orgasm every time you decided to use that thing instead of coming to him and asking for his assistance.

Alastor wanted you to be completely dependent on him for your pleasure, and until you learned to swallow that silly little pride of yours, he had planned to let you suffer every single night - plagued by the blissful memories he'd given you, unable to recreate them no matter how hard you tried.

But oh, best laid plans and all that, right?

"S-seriously?" you squeaked, your face somehow becoming an even deeper crimson as Alastor stared into your eyes, face unchanging as he rubbed his index finger against your bottom lip. "Deadly," he responded, pupils changing to radio dials for a split second, pushing his finger past your lips and against your tongue to let you taste yourself. A black tendril out of your line-of-sight slithered between your legs, prodding at your wet entrance unexpectedly. "Ah! Huh-?!" you gasped, looking down between your legs at the sudden contact.

It was only a second, but it was enough to have him gripping your chin once more and forcing you to look back at his face. "You know better than to look away, my dear," he chided your simple mistake, pushing a second finger into your mouth and pressing both of them flat against your tongue. When the tendril pushed past the first ring of muscle into your dripping cunt, you whimpered around his fingers, sucking gently at your fluids that still coated them.

Fuck, he's barely touched you and you're already so much closer to an orgasm than you had ever gotten by yourself.

Reaching up to grab hold of his wrist, you pulled his fingers from your mouth so that you could speak. "Alastor..." you started, a soft moan interrupting your speech as the tentacle pushed deeper into your core, a squelching sound filling your ears as it pumped slowly, your juices coating its black surface.

"Tell me, did you think about me?" Alastor asked, urging you on as he moved to wrap his hand around your neck, squeezing gently when you nodded your head. "Yes," you admitted, your walls clenching around the tentacle when it began to pick up speed. He hummed at your response, his hand moving further south to the bottom hem of your shirt and sneaking under it. "Did you think about me touching you like... this?" he asked, his fingers pinching the hardened nub of your breast, making you inhale sharply at the pain followed by the pleasure of him kneading the soft mound.

"Yes," you answered, your moans progressively becoming louder as the tendril began to move with more force, now pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. "Y-yes, Alastor... I thought about you," you breathed, digging your fingers into the duvet you were laying on. "About the way your voice sounded when you would praise me," you continued, inching your mouth closer to his as he released your sensitive bud, pulling it from beneath your shirt entirely, much to your dismay.

"Is that all?" Alastor asked you, to which you shook your head no, taking a moment as you searched for the confidence to continue with this debauchery.

"I thought about... how your lips felt on mine, and your tongue on my skin," you whispered, hearing the sound of his belt buckle being undone, but you dare not look away as the pleasure began to build higher and higher with each pump of his black tendril.

"And...?" he urged you on, his own face inching closer to yours as he pushed his trousers and briefs down far enough to free his leaking cock from their confines.

"And I thought- ... fuck-! Hahhh..." you moaned, fighting the urge to look down as you felt his hand take hold of yours. You were so, so close! The last thing you wanted to do was irritate him in any way, potentially risking him edging you even further than you had edged yourself night after night. "... I thought about the way you fucked me with your hand, and your tongue," you moaned when you felt a second tendril bump against your clit, rubbing up and down on the sensitive little bud.

"Keep going," Alastor told you, guiding your hand to his hard length and wrapping your slender digits around it, urging you to pump him - slowly, at first. But as your pleasure built higher and higher, your moans becoming more frequent and louder in volume, he gradually gained speed, wanting to match the pace of the tendrils as they pushed in and out of your squelching cunt. The sounds you made were divine, so much more beautiful than the ones you made with that thing now laying on the floor, completely forgotten by you.

Faster and faster, they moved, and soon it became difficult for you to form a coherent thought, focused solely on the way the tentacle stretched you open wide and the other applied the most delicious amount of pressure to your throbbing clit. "I thought... I thought," you tried to speak, jaw falling slack as you were right on the cusp of release, your walls quivering and thighs shaking as the knot wound tighter and tighter in the pits of your belly. "... I-I thought... about your cock in me," you gasped, your hips rising from the bed just barely and grinding down against the tentacles involuntarily, desperate for that blissful release.

"Don't stop..." Alastor whispered as he lowered his head, his lips mere centimeters from yours as he began to buck into your hand, his own orgasm not far off as he forced you to tighten your grip on his aching cock. Taking a little initiative, you angled your wrist and pressed your thumb to his leaking slit, smearing his precum and using it as lube to pump his cock faster. With the way that he gasped and how his hips jerked forward, you knew he was close to his own release.

"I thought about how you..." you swallowed hard, it was becoming difficult to keep your thoughts straight, to follow his no-looking-away rule, to keep jerking your hand up and down his hardened length as your muscles contracted almost painfully the closer you got to your end. "I thought- ... oh fuck, I'm gonna cum, Alastor-!" you gasped, eyes barely open as you reached with your other hand to lace your fingers in his hair, nails raking over the backs of his ears.

"Say it! Say it, and I'll let you cum," Alastor promised, his breath hitching in his throat as his cock twitched painfully in your hand, a third tentacle joining the first inside your wet walls and pounding into you roughly now, coaxing you closer and closer. Your eyes began to water as you felt the first tether snap, signaling your end as you opened your mouth to do as he obliged.

"I thought about the way you filled me up, and how you made me yours," you said, arching your back as you inhaled deeply, pulling his head further down until your foreheads were pressed together. "A-and about how you made me cum on your cock, over and over aga- ahhn, fuuuck!" you cried when, finally, the coil snapped, and your release crashed over you, your walls clamping down on the tentacles and your vision going white.

"Marvelous..." Alastor praised you as his hips bucked wildly into your hand, his own wrapped around yours and forcing you to maintain your tight grip through your orgasm, chasing his own as you rode yours out. It wasn't long before he was spilling his seed all over your hand and duvet, some of it landing on your bare hip as his own stuttered through each spurt.

"Fuck, fuck..." you mumbled, trying to regain your senses as you tried to come down from your high. You couldn't make sense of the world around you yet, barely taking notice of the tentacles retracting from your pulsing heat and his body from your own. When your vision finally cleared, you looked around for Alastor, soon finding him sitting on his knees between your legs. One clawed hand was stroking his half hard cock until it stood at full attention again, the other pressing against your overly sensitive mound, drawing lazy circles into your clit and sending jolts of pain and pleasure through your whole body.

"Let's make your thoughts a reality, my dear..."

story ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ header ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ dividers ┊ ◜ kodaswrld ✧ strangergraphics ◞ summoning ┊ ◜ @hazelfoureyes ✧ @minkdelovely ✧ @sugoi-writes ✧ @fraugwinska ✧ @macabr3-barbi3 ◞

Please do not copy or repost as your own! Thank you!

[somegirlontheinternet135]

I didn't expect a post about a dating sim x click & point adventure game with The Beasts to be this popular but. . .

*random gestures*

So here you go, some thoughts & features that could be added to this weird fangame I conjured up!

(tw: long)

~General~

The world that the player teleported into heavily mirrors the land of beast yeast, complete with each of the landmarks which the beasts resign in. One exception however is at the center of this mysterious land is a forest of silver trees, which surround a strange alter of six stone standing pads, five little stones around a much larger stone in the middle (wonder what that's about?)

Somewhere amidst the silver woods is a mysterious grove, a grove filled with lilies. If adventurous enough, the player can explore the grove, but be warned, for not only do the scent of lilies cause drowsiness and the possibility of passing out, but lilies aren't the only thing that the land houses. The grove is peerless maze, so the player must enter with caution

The story length will be similar to how Obey Me is set up (divided into different chapters) with the first three to four chapters introducing the Beasts

There's no "canonical" choice of who'll you'll end up with, that's entirely up to the player. Another choice the player will have is whether the relationships can be platonic or romantic

Although many MCs are mostly left blank slates, I want the player in the sort of grey area between having an actual personality but leaving details vague enough to leave people guessing. Think the MC from "Obey Me" crossed with Yuu from "Twisted Wonderland" And you know many MCs are often nice and kind-hearted, well sorta throw that out the window bc we're doing something special(snarky, sarcastic, brutality honest, and filled with trust issues)

There's only snippets of what the player physically looks like(trust me, this'll be important later)

It's also important that the player has zero memory of entering the world they were basically isekaed into, something which the beasts learn one way or another. . .

The player will receive several petnames from the beasts, ranging from simple ones like "dear" or "sweetheart," to petnames relating to mice and other rodents(ie: "Little Mouse," "Pika," even "Pipsqueak")

In the game, the day-night cycle plays a big role in the gameplay. You'll be allowed to roam and explore as much as you want, but at night, you're given the choice of whether you should go to bed or keep exploring. If the player chooses to continue exploring, they'll be met with an energy meter, which increases when you sleep and decreases when you don't. With a full bar, the player can explore a total of five times, and once that meter runs out, they get too exhausted and fall asleep

Now would be a good time to mention the player's different bedrooms. They rotate based on the location, but they're meant to be a sort of safe space for the player, it's also the area where they pick up an important item: A journal

The journal functions very similarly to a scribble board and an actual notebook but serves one purpose, to allow the player to take notes on certain puzzles. Different puzzles are scattered across the landmarks, some are extremely difficult and require one to jot notes

I also like to think the player would receive a variety of tools during their journey and will each be essential. Which would lead the player to carry a bag to hold said items

For the purpose of the story, the player is able to respawn if they die. Remember the alter in the silver tree forest, they wake up there like nothing happened, although they do still retain the memories of said death

The player will engage in several minigames, the most common of them being a cooking style game where you prepare meals and ones where your using certain tools. Whilst the click & point portion consists of the player exploring the different areas & interacting with their surroundings

As a bonus, the player is gifted different outfits from the beasts, each one corresponding to the beast, their interests, and their theme

~Shadow Milk~

In the many eyes of Shadow Milk, the player is the only cookie he's seen in a while, so it's obvious he'd want them to be his audience, if you ever so chose to be. They get the option of asking more & trying to convince him on letting them have a turn in performing, which he'll have different reactions to

*You're reading the scripts of one of Shadow Milk's plays, in awe at the material. You compliment his work, making him all the more flattered*

"Oh I love acting! Your script is amazing, could I try acting some things out?"

*Hearing the question, Shadow Milk snatches the script from your hands. He almost snaps at you*

"What? No, of course not!"

"I'm sorry my dear, I adore your praise but. . . we've already established who the audience is! It's the key tool of any actor's career, and without that, we'd just be two actors with no one to entertain. . ."

"Besides, I think you'd have trouble trying to impress such a seasoned performer like myself~"

Despite his condescending comments, he slowly begins to let you act out small skits as their relationship with him becomes stronger, and he begins to cave

Shadow Milk has several references to acting, the stage, and plays, it would be a sin to not give this man a rhythm game. Similar to already existing rhythm games like "Rhythm Heaven" or the rhythm game portion in "Obey Me"

Every task, no matter how minimal or simple, becomes way more difficult with Shadow Milk. If you're just as much as a theater kid as he is, his need for literally everything to be a grand, exaggerated, obnoxious spectacle, especially around the player, is strong. Half the time, things don't go his way & he winds up making a mess, messes which the player is forced to clean up

Also, most everything he does requires a quick "costume change" thems the rules. He's cooking you breakfast? He's wearing a bright pink apron with frills and a heart-shaped pocket. You get hurt and scrape your knee? Here comes Dr. Shadow Milk in his doctor's uniform and stethoscope. The two of you are getting ready for bed? You'll be seeing him in striped pajamas, an extremely long nightrobe, fuzzy slippers and a sleep mask, including hair curlers

There will absolutely be no sneaking out on his domain, not on his watch! Shadow Milk, with his abilities, is a living security system, and reacts heavily to sound. So one snap of a twig or step on some creaking floorboards and it's over!

"*Ahem!*"

*A freakishly familiar voice is heard from behind you. Breaking into a sweat, you slowly turn around, the smallest part of you wished it wasn't who you thought it was. . . But as luck would have it, you didn't know any other crazy entertainers. . . Sure enough, it was exactly who'd you expected to see, Shadow Milk stood in front of you, arms crossed and everything*

"Just where do you think you're going?"

*You try playing it cool, although sweating a bit*

"Oh hey Shadow. . . I was just about to head out and-"

"Head out? At this time?!"

"I-I'm not gonna be gone for too long! I'll come right back after promise- *ah!*"

*Shadow Milk had already scooped you up, carrying you bridal style*

"That's quite enough! I can't have my only audience member getting drowsy during one of my shows, now can I?~"

*You were embarrassed beyond belief, even more once he started walking you to your room, and abruptly boops you on the nose*

"It's off to bed with you little mousey!~"

". . . ok(;w;). . ."

He takes much pride & joy in inconveniencing the player, purely for his own entertainment. What makes it worse is that he'll always find some sort of excuse, saying how it's "to punish them" and "to teach them how to do it right," just some of the lies they have to deal with

And that's not all, you think he started there? nope! He started lying to the player the second the two of them met. Seeing the player scared and alone in his domain, he didn't miss an opportunity to mess with the player's head. Fortunately, this does change as you begin to get closer with him, he starts being more open with the player

The outfit Shadow Milk gives the player is, although the tackiest thing on earthbread(if the player decides that it is), the most practical of the outfits they'll receive. It has a sort of German fairytale vibe to it, covered head to toe in ruffles, lace, bells, overly detailed designs, and of course, colored blue. It looks like, feels like, and is a costume, but despite its cheesy appearance, it's easy to run & move in

Out of all the beasts, Shadow Milk is the one who cares the most for the player's physical well-being. He's always making sure the player's eating enough, getting sleep, and most importantly, is happily entertained. It's been far too long since he was able to put on his plays, and he's gonna make sure they have the ability to sit through them

All and all, Shadow Milk is a well-meaning, all be it annoying, roommate

~Eternal Sugar~

She was always keen on learning most of the trickster's secrets, so finding out about the player, she became both upset yet understanding. Shadow Milk was the Cookie of Deceit after all

Regardless, Eternal Sugar found it quite unfair of him to keep them all to himself, and took it upon herself to steal the player away, via using one of her clouds

*While wandering by yourself within Shadow Milk's domain, you peer up at the unearthly, but normally blue sky, to see what seemed to be clouds suspiciously hovering over you*

Bewildered and curious, the player has the decision of either ignoring it or checking it out, but each will end in the clouds scooping up the player and taking them, all the way to Eternal Sugar Cookie

First meeting the player, she's admittingly unimpressed with what she sees, to think something so important to them would be reduced to such a simple creature. . ? But that mindset quickly changes as she discovers how adorable the player is, and just how naive they are. . .

She views the player as some sort of pet, spoiling them with all the goodies they can ever want, to a point where its almost overwhelming

*On a table, a large platter of sweets is set in front of you; you're almost tooken back by the sheer size of the dish, it was almost half the size of the table! Just sitting next to you was Eternal Sugar, smiling almost amusingly at your reaction*

"U-Uh. . . Is this all for me. . ?"

*She giggled*

"Of course it is dear! What sort of guest would you be if you didn't receive such delicacies?"

*Eternal Sugar picks up a sweet from the platter and holds it close to your mouth*

"Now, open wide~"

Unlike the other beasts, Eternal Sugar has the habit of babying the player, so like Shadow Milk, every simple task becomes way more difficult with her around. She'll make sure they won't be able to lift a finger!

Her associative minigame fits her sort of style, a memory game using cards, similar to the many games you can find on those "Kid-friendly Newgrounds" websites

Another thing worth noting is her clingy nature. Everywhere the player goes, Eternal Sugar has to follow, which does make things more difficult and affects progress. The prime definition of a space invader

It gets even worse during the night cycle, where she often insists on sleeping in the same bed as the player. Despite this, night is the only time the player will be able to get anything done. Just know that when they got back to bed and woke up the next morning, they'll have a sweet surprise waiting for them

*Morning light shines onto your face as it creeps into the rest of the room. You groan, awoken by your natural alarm clock, and begin to yawn & stretch, a part of you wished you slept in a bit longer. But as you try to get out of bed, you feel a weight on your right hand, better yet, you feel an entire section of the bed being weighed down by some unknown force. Turning around, you quickly discover why*

"E-Eternal Sugar Cookie! What are you-?!"

*There, covering a good half of the bed, Eternal Sugar Cookie was peacefully snoozing, clutching your hand. In your failed attempts at yelling at her & pulling your hand away were left to no avail, she had no intent on moving, nor letting go, making you all the more flustered*

"Ms. Eternal Sugar Cookie, please!- Let me go! I need-"

*She merely lifted one eye, only half awake and ready to sleep the rest of the day away*

"Awh~ but little mouse, it's so early!~ Can't you stay just a bit longer?~"

*She smiles at your flustered expression*

"But I have stuff to do! Please, you have to let me- *ah!-* h-hey!"

*Too busy trying to escape, you failed to notice her grip getting tighter, pulling you back down your now shared bed*

"Sleep a little more with me, won't you? There's no rush~"

"O-ok, fine then, but only for a couple more minutes, but that's it!"

*She giggled*

"Deal~"

Throughout their stay, the player only gets small snippets of Eternal Sugar's true personality. If the player chose to question her sickly sweet demeanor, she'd get defensive real fast, asking them why they would even question something like that. If angered, she becomes pushy, demanding, especially when the player doesn't do what she says

It becomes increasingly clear when Eternal Sugar gives you a new outfit, since the one you're wearing (aka the outfit Shadow Milk gave you) didn't fit her style, believing that you should wear something more flowy. She actually offers several different outfits for the player, and although nice, they're. . . let's just say not so family friendly; try as they might to reject her offers, she'll get upset and more persistent, nonetheless; this however does change as the story goes on, she becomes more understanding. Luckily, the two manage to make a compromise, Eternal Sugar offers the player a much simpler pink dress, with bows, lace, and ribbons. Despite being much to the player's liking(if that's what the player chooses), she begins to whine about it, saying how it could've been so much more; not to mention, both the ribbons and lace constantly get stuck on things if they aren't careful

The only time the player's able to really see Eternal Sugar's true colors is when Shadow Milk shows up, who's not all too happy about her basically kidnapping the player. Whilst they ventured alone, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off them for a second, last thing he knew they were snatched by some clouds and whisked away into the sky, which he immediately starts chasing after them. He knew exactly who was responsible. Unlike Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar does a much better job of keeping her composure, playing dumb and refraining from acting out of character around the player. But once Shadow Milk insults her fake personality, all hell breaks loose

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my dear friend. . .?~ Eternal Sugar Cookie. . !"

*Shadow Milk had snuck in through an open window. Before you could even do anything, Eternal Sugar had already pulled you to her side, forcing you to sit in the lavish and comfortable sofa she was lounging on. He made his way towards her, with his usual wide smile; from the corner of your eye, you could barely see an eye twitch and, was he gritting his teeth? It didn't look like it, but he was seething with rage*

"Oh, Shadow Milk Cookie!~ for what do I owe the pleasure?~"

"How lovely of you to ask!~ You see, you just so happen to have something that belongs to me!"

*Shadow Milk then stares back at you, startling you a bit with his crazed expression. Although Eternal Sugar seemed unfazed, her grip on you only became tighter as the trickster started speaking to you*

"Little mousey, there you are!~ Oh I was so worried, thank goodness you're safe!~"

"I am so, so, sorry to have kept you waiting~ believe me, it's a long story!~"

"*Ah!* And what happened to the little dress I gave you?! I mean you still look cute, but you'd look so much better before and- oh! almost got off track for a second!~ *haha!*"

"Alrighty, I think it's time for me and my little mousey to get go-"

"You're leaving with them? Now what would be the purpose in that?~"

*She quickly shifted from her lounging position to a sitting position, pulling you closer toward her, and flustering you more. You see the trickster's eye twitch more, noticing just a crack in his character*

"*hehe-* what did you say. . ?!"

"I've tooken quite the liking to 'your' little mouse!~ Besides, you keeping them all to your self. . ? Extremely unfair of you!~"

*She then draped her arms around you, your face was getting redder by the second*

"Surely they'll be much happier here, isn't that right little mouse?~"

"Well, *uhh-* actually. . ."

"Then it's settled!~ The little mouse will be staying with me!~"

*They proceeded to argue back and forth, Shadow Milk's played up character was falling apart at the seams, losing a drop of his patience with every word the "angel" said. Eternal Sugar found herself quite entertained with the trickster getting angrier and angrier. All the while, you didn't know what to do, clearly neither of them were going to let you leave, or you know, let you get a single word in. So you were placed in a very awkward situation, stuck between an angel cookie who wasn't keen on you leaving, and a jester who was trying to get you back through gritted teeth*

"Listen, I'm the one who saw them first, they were found in my domain, therefore, they're mine! So if you would be so kind as to return them to me. . !"

*She proceeded to hold you closer, practically cuddling you, was she trying to make him even angrier?!*

"Oh but we're having so much fun!~ They'd much prefer it here than that over-the-top spiral you call a tower. . !"

*Insulting his domain was the nail in the coffin. It looked like he'd finally snapped, any ounce of patience he had before was completely out the window. Using his magic, he wrapped up your hands in some mysterious string, pulling you forward and out of Eternal Sugar's reach, greatly shocking and scaring the heck out of you. Once you were back in his arms, Shadow Milk pushed you behind him, and looking back at Eternal Sugar, she'd gotten up from the sofa, it seemed like she was starting to crack as well*

"Oh!~ So that's how we're gonna play *huh?!* Then I'll lend you this: do you really think they'd want to stay with a tooth-rotting prick like yourself?!"

*She began to clutch her fists, her eyes widen in a mix of shock and anger*

". . ?! What did you just call me. . ?!"

"Oh don't you give me that! little miss 'sweet & innocent angel!' unlike myself, people can see your fake persona from a mile away!~"

"And with how long they had to stay with you. . . I'm surprised my poor little mousey hasn't gotten sick and vomited from the spoiling and smothering they had to withstand!"

*That was all it took for her, she broke faster than he did, the wings on her back got bigger, Eternal Sugar's eyes glowed with rage*

". . . how dare you. . !"

"HOW DARE YOU!!"

The player obviously gets the choice of trying to stop the fight or slipping away, the following events escalating faster or slower depending on which they choose. Things escalate to a point where Eternal Sugar just snatched them and attempted to fly away with the player, which led to Shadow Milk using his magical strings to pull them back, entering the two of them in an intense game of tug of war with the player. And the force of both sides was so strong. . . It ended up ripping the player in half

So, Eternal Sugar Cookie, kinda pushy at times and very clingy all the time, but a sweetheart nonetheless

~Mystic Flour~

Getting ripped in half by two powerful beings. . . not something you would easily forget. . . You'd expect this to be game over, right? well, wrong, cause upon miraculously waking up, not only do you find yourself on top a strange alter, but face to face with Mystic Flour Cookie

Seeing the clouds of Eternal Sugar Cookie's cloud soaring past her land, she immediately could tell that something was a mist, and strolling through the silver forest and finding the player laying on the strange alter, her suspicions were correct

At first, she couldn't believe it, a cookie, in their world?! But after a proper meeting with the player and asking how they ended up on the alter, she became a bit more pitiful, going on to invite them to her domain, such a clueless cookie shouldn't be left alone!

But talking about what was basically their death is pretty traumatizing, so the player is given the choice of whether to straight up lie, or give some part of the truth

"So, you have no memory of how you ended up on this alter. . ? Nothing at all?"

*Your voice was strained, you didn't want to tell her the full truth*

"N-no, not a lot. . ."

*Mystic Flour then proceeds to grasp both your cheeks, pulling you close to her face, much to your slight embarrassment*

"Oh, you poor thing! You must be so lost, so confused. . ."

*It was that moment when an idea sprung into her, an idea that may help the both of you. . .*

"How about you come with me?~ Surely you'll be much safer!~"

*Try as you might to decline her offer, she just becomes more insistent. She was giving decent points however, you were lost and confused, not to mention trapped in this witch-forsaken place, and the only two "cookies" you knew killed you, accidently or not, you couldn't decide. . . Eventually, after lots of convincing and growing tired, you finally cave, accepting her offer*

"Ok, fine, I'll go with you"

"Oh good! Well, come along then!~"

*Gently, Mystic Flour took your hand, pulling you off the alter, and guiding you through the silver woods*

Mystic Flour had already made herself sound quite trustworthy, but of course, this can't be without some sort of catch. . . Though she looks caring on the outside, she sees the player as a mere tool, a stepping stool for something much greater. Her methods of getting information is much more subtle

Both minigames mentioned before required some sort of skill, Mystic Flour's is no exception. Similar to classic video game "Snake," the player's goal is to fill the respected area using dragons instead of snakes (wonder why?)

Pretty much the minute the two of them enter her domain, she basically gives them free range to do whatever. She doesn't really care if the player wanders too far or gets into spaces they shouldn't. But she will let you know when it's time to head back

*As the sun starts to set, you continue to search about the area like a curious child, you hardly noticed Mystic Flour standing just behind you*

"Little pika, dear it's time to head back!~"

*Hearing her voice yelling out to you so suddenly just barely startled you, but you gained back your composure once you see her warm smile*

"Oh! Hi Mystic Flour Cookie! Just give me a second, I have to check a few more things!"

*It wasn't like you weren't going to listen to her orders, you just had a bit more to do. But watching you get farther & farther away from her; Mystic Flour saw it differently. Already making her way toward you, she proceeded to scoop you into her arms, startling you and plastering blush onto your face, as she started walking you back herself*

"*ah!*W-Wait! Mystic Flour Cookie, I wasn't done ye-!"

"I know, I know, dear, you have your little tasks!~ But you'll have so much time to do them tomorrow, so please, might we head back? I'm sure the food is getting cold!"

*With you being in her grasp and your legs being very much off the ground, there wasn't really a choice to keep going. You could've kicked and screamed, but there were doubts that'd even work. . . And so, with no other options, you let her take you away, which sucked, but hey, at least you have yummy food waiting for you!*

Mystic Flour has the sheer amount of enthusiasm as an overly supportive mother, she has not a clue of what the player is doing but they're doing great! But like some mothers, she tries a more "hands off" approach as a way to set rules, intentionally not telling the player helpful information just for the sake of them learning it themselves

She does, however, provide them with all the materials to do so: a bedtime routine, plenty of food, and a warm winter outfit. Speaking of which, due to the wintery background, Mystic Flour gives them an outfit most suitable to withstand the cold, something heavy, but also angelic, a nun like dress colored a soft yellow, complete with black counterparts. The only downside is that defending the player from the cold is its only purpose, for it is much too heavy anywhere else and unbearable in hotter areas

Unlike the other beasts mentioned, Mystic Flour has no interest in forming a genuine relationship with the player. To her, you only serve one purpose, finding her escape (whatever that means) and is more direct into reaching her goal. She creates a false sense of security between the two of them, then when the time is right, uses that bond to her advantage. Fortunately, this behavior does change as the story continues, and Mystic Flour becomes more interested, and attached, to the player, but for now, her methods remain neutral

This becomes more apparent as Mystic Flour tries getting information out of the player in a sort of therapeutic way, sitting them down and letting them speak about their troubles, starting with the obvious. . .

"And. . . that's pretty much what happen. . ."

*You laid atop the much larger cookie, your head resting on her lap as she lightly massaged your hair. You rub your hands uncomfortably, as if waiting for bad news, your throat felt strained. Sandwiched between two angry beings, getting pulled into the sky then ripped in two, these were memories you weren't ready to revisit, especially with someone you've met only a few moments ago. . . At the same time, was holding this deep inside healthy? You saw life flash before your eyes, seconds before being split in half. . . Besides, you were already holding onto so much. . . would it hurt to let go of some. . . You felt Mystic Flour let go of your hair as she began running her hand on your face*

"Oh you, poor, poor, dear. . ."

"I am so sorry you had to be apart of. . . that. . ."

*Although you couldn't see her face, she sounded genuinely sorry for you, which was quite refreshing considering everything you've been through so far*

"They can be rather selfish at times, only thinking about themselves. . . You're lucky you've ended up with me!~"

*You laughed at her remark, trying to brighten up the mood, despite still feeling, well, you didn't know what to feel at that point. . .*

"*Heh* Yeah. . . I guess you're right. . ."

*Unannounced to you, Mystic Flour smiled to herself, her plan was working swimmingly. . . Having brought you to a docile state, it was more than a better time to gather the information she'd been longing for. . .*

"If you would allow me to. . . may I ask you something else?"

*You think for a minute, it was only one question, what harm could it do. . .*

"*Uh* sure. . . what is it?"

"Well little pika, you see-"

*Before the words could fall out of her mouth, there was a sudden loud BANG noise from outside. Respectfully, this startles you, making you flinch, but Mystic Flour didn't seem to move. . . Looking back up, you were finally able to see her face, she seemed irritated, annoyed. Gently, she lifted your head off her lap, resting you onto your knees, confused, you turn to her and saw that she was already standing, looking down upon you. She mumbled something under her breath*

"*Ugh* At a time like this. . ?!"

"Just a moment pika. . . I have to handle something. . ."

Mystic Flour considers herself to be the mother figure of the beasts, and although uncompassionate at times, she plays her role well

~Burning Spice~

(Literally the most perfect segway!~)

All it took was Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar fighting for Burning Spice Cookie to want a part of the action. Last where we left off with them, the two managed to split the player in half, insides and everything, and were now freaking out over their (very much dead) body, whilst arguing over whose fault it was. By sheer coincidence, did Burning Spice decide to check up on Eternal Sugar, and catches site of the two yelling at each other

Burning Spice hasn't met the player, doesn't know who they are nor what they look like, but he took immediate interest in them after seeing how they affected the two other beasts. If just their mutilated body was enough to cause them to start screaming and crying like little kids, who knows what else they could do. . .

Already, he was making assumptions of what kind of person they'd be, perhaps the player was someone strong and intimidating, someone perfect to be his sparring partner, and continues to deny any sort of actual description of them

Him, Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar had mostly worked together in their search for the player, but the millisecond they found out they were with Mystic Flour, the race was on. . . Which takes us to now, where Burning Spice appears first, causing a massive scene with his abilities in an attempt to lure her out

*Alerted by the sudden destruction just outside, Mystic Flour rushed to her outer balcony, irritated like this had happened before. . . She knew exactly who the culprit was, and sure enough, there he was, sitting casually atop the balcony's railing, Burning Spice greeted her with a sinister look on his face. She had already prepared herself, immediately knowing that something was about to go down*

"There she is, Misty! Long time no see!"

"Burning Spice Cookie. . . what brings you here. . ?"

"*Oh!* I think you know exactly why I'm here!"

*Getting off the railing, he walked toward his comrade, having no use in making a big deal out of it. Mystic Flour, although slightly surprised, saw it as a sort of threat, only further did she stand her ground*

"Ya see, a little birdie told me that you've been hiding a shiny new treasure from us. And I, of course, thought it'd be too good to be true. . . So I decided to drop by to take a look for myself. . !"

*He tried walking around her to reach the balcony's entrance, but before he could take another step, Mystic Flour stopped him, she wouldn't back down that easily. . .*

"There is no such thing. . . whatever is in my possession is none of your business. . !"

*In her defensive state, Burning Spice's persistence only grew, now patting her shoulder almost reassuringly*

"Hey, c'mon Misty!~ we're buddies, pals! Letting me get a tiny sneak peek shouldn't be a problem!"

"Say, how about this? You let me see what you're hiding, and I promise, I won't tell the others, I'll even let ya keep it! So what do ya say?~"

*Not even seconds after he said that, he immediately tried pushing past Mystic Flour as if she'd already answered his question. Of course, she shut that down almost instantly, even pushing him back, something which he doesn't really take well. His eyes widened, she set him off by just that push alone. She could bluntly tell he was lying, only using their relationship as an excuse, so she didn't let him any closer*

"Burning Spice Cookie, we've known each other for eons, do you really think I wouldn't be able to recognize one of your petty excuses. . . ?! "

"If you knew better, you'd be wise enough to leave, for this so-called treasure you're after, I know nothing about!"

*Pushing and telling him to leave. . . yep, that'll do it. . . Burning Spice broke into laughter as his hair began to glow warms shades of red, orange, and yellow, moving like a sea of flames*

"*HA HA HA HAHAHA!* *Oh!* Misty, ya might just make me angry!"

*His tone quickly shifts from trigger-happy to overall threatening once he'd opened his eyes, now just as bright as his hair, he marches towards Mystic Flour, who was all the more irritated and unfazed*

"And you. . . don't wanna make me angry. . !"

"Make you angry?! *Heh!* Didn't know it was so easy to mess with that small brain of yours!"

*It isn't long before the two engage in full on battle, both sides being equally matched in some way. While this was all happening, you were completely unaware; being inside exploring, you're none the wiser of the destruction going on outside*

Eventually, Burning Spice does manage to bust his way inside, and upon actually seeing the player in their simple state, he couldn't be more disappointed, to think Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar's bickering would be caused by such a boring little cookie(but those two do fight over a lot of things, so-)

He'd almost considered leaving them, but Burning Spice would rather leave with something than nothing, so taking his losses he hoists up the player over his shoulder and makes, a not so quiet, escape. Much to Mystic Flour's dismay and the player's protests (or cries for help depending on what they choose)

Burning Spice sees the player like how a general sees a soldier. He thinks they're weak, bland, and more notably boring, and wants to, in his words, "spice them up." Because of this, he is unnecessarily harsh, working the player to the bone and expecting them to "get up" when they get too tired

*How long has it been. . ? An hour? Two hours? At that point you didn't know, but all you did know is that it felt like an eternity since Burning Spice started your so called "training." Back and forth, you were forced to run with heavy rocks on your back whilst following him, who was doing the same. All the while he'd yell at you to pick up the pace as encouragement. . .You huffed and panted*

"*Hah**hah. . .* Burning Spice Cookie, please, can't we stop for. . . just a minute. . ?"

*It was the only time he'd turn back at you, what a ridiculous ask!*

"What?! Definitely not! ya still got a lot to go, pipsqueak!"

*You couldn't go on any longer. A mess of sweat and sore bones, you plummet to the ground, numb to the rocks currently on your back, you wanted rest, at least for a minute. . . Burning Spice only reached a good distance away before noticing you were far, far behind. He ran back to you, but not because he was worried*

"Ay! Pipsqueak, what's the holdup?!"

*He crouched down, better viewing your shriveled up body, far too weak to keep going. Despite the obvious, Burning Spice still tried getting you to stand, poking, even attempting to pull you off the ground, but you won't budge. . .*

"C'mon! Quit acting like Eternal Sugar Cookie and get moving!"

"Please. . . let me rest. . ."

*Your sweat could've well stained the ground if it were cool enough. . . You were stubborn & refused to get up, becoming a puddle of flesh. Realizing that you weren't moving, he, grudgingly, decides to do what was best, but first he had to move you somewhere more suitable to your needs*

"*Ugh* Alright! Fine! I'll let you outta this, only once!"

*Swiftly brushing the rocks off your back, he scoops you up and onto his shoulder, no way would he let you die right then and there. You suddenly feel the biggest weight being literally lifted off your shoulders, thanking whatever was out there for this moment*

"I'll let you rest, but not here!"

"*Heh* Thank you. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!"

Everything Burning Spice does, he expects the player to do the same, no matter how difficult. But will give them the benefit of the doubt when the player gets too tired to keep going, much to his annoyance

He's active and moving 24/7, that's why Burning Spice's minigame is directly based on "Super Mario Bros" where the player runs about collecting items, attacking enemies, etc.

If the player is talking to him, he'll most entirely talk about himself, boosting his ego, even throwing insults at the other beasts, which is both annoying and ironic because he does the exact same things that they do. That being said, it's important to never get mad at him or give him attitude because it will work him up, for better or worse. . .

The player can easily get information from him due to his blunt honesty. When talking about the other beasts, he'll always give bits of helpful information about them, some that can be extremely helpful in the future

Similar to Mystic Flour, Burning Spice gives the player free range to do whatever, the only difference is that Burning Spice sets up these "training sessions" on random occasions without notifying the player firsthand, and expects them to drop everything to train with him. This exhausts the player, causing them to only be able to do things during the day, when they've required enough rest

*Stumbling into the room Burning Spice gave you, you flop onto the bed, nestling your head against your pillow, relived. You were finally able to rest your jelly legs, sore running around and doing tasks. But you turn to your side, something catches your eye. . . On the single window of your room, you noticed what looked to be a slip of paper. Despite being entirely drained, your curiosity got the better of you, and slipping from the bed, you make your way toward the windowsill, now realizing how out of place from the rest of the room, appearing more of a light lilac than any of the reds and oranges. You questioned if even came from the place, and upon proper examination, your suspicions seemed correct. . . This was no mere paper, but a letter! Curiosities only felt more rapid as you opened, revealing not only short message crafted in cursive, but a beautiful illustration of a rose*

"Small Rodent, have you been faring well within our world? Have you been eating, sleeping well? I hope the others hadn't been too cruel towards you. . . Word of mouth does not travel fast here, so I apologize if I arrive to you late. . . I wish to reach you soon. . ."

"From- Silent Salt Cookie"

"Small Rodent. . ?"

*Reading through the passage, you took a few seconds to process, hoping that whoever sent it wasn't suggesting what you thought they were suggesting, cause if you got kidnapped one more time. . .-*

"Aye! Pipsqueak!!"

*Burning Spice had, without warning, busted into the room, no time for internal dialogue now! With milliseconds to think, you swiftly hide the letter behind your back, not before confronting the brute for his sudden excursion of your privacy*

"B-Burning Spice Cookie?! What are you doing here?!-"

"What?~ I can't check on my little pipsqueak, can't I?~"

*Again with the nickname. .?! Blushing rapidly, you couldn't tell whether you were annoyed, angry, or just plain embarrassed. . . Burning Spice laughed boastingly, always amused by your expressions*

"*HAHAHAH!~* Ya never fail to entertain me, pipsqueak!~"

*Then he noticed the arms behind your back. . .*

"Say, whatcha got there? Ya hiding something from me?"

*Shoot! the letter was still in your hands! Only seeing this as more of a reason to keep it hidden, you play it cool for as much as possible*

"I-It's nothing! W-What are you talking about?!*hehe*"

*Burning Spice just saw your actions as even more suspicious, he might be a barbarian, but he isn't stupid. He attempted turning you around to see what exactly you were keeping from him, all the while you were trying to dodge him, cold sweat beginning to run down your forehead*

"Are ya sure? Cause *uh* ya starting to look pretty sweaty there. . ."

"Oh!- this?! *Uhh. . .* I'm just, tired! from all the training today *haha!*"

*You two do this dance a bit, with you becoming doubly irritated the more Burning Spice tried seeing what you're hiding, getting additionally irritated while Burning Spice looked completely willing to tear your front open, asking and reinsuring you, again and again to get a little looksee. And you thought Shadow Milk was nosy?! Annoying and driven to your breaking point, you practically yell at him-*

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, OK?!"

*Hearing those words fall out of your mouth, Burning Spice is beyond tooken aback, clearly, he didn't like being told what to do. You quickly gasp to yourself, slamming your mouth closed with a free hand upon realizing what you've just said, how could you be so stupid?! With the letter still in your other hand, you decide the best course of action was to crumble up the paper, that letter was the least of your worries now anyway. . .*

"Did. . .Did you just yell at me. . ?!"

*You gulped, your sweat becoming increasingly apparent as the brute looked seconds away from having steam shoot out his ears. He proceeds to get unnervingly close, practically towering over you. . .Didn't think it would end this way. . .*

"That. . . Is. . ."

"Great!!!"

"Ya getting spicier by the minute!"

*Burning Spice grabbed both your shoulders, and shook them with excitement, much to your bewilderment. The way his tone can just shift was both jarring and impressive. After a bit of violent shaking and surviving what would've been another death experience, he eventually lets go, not before giving you a hardy slap to the back whilst laughing, dang near knocking you off your feet and the letter out of your hand*

"*HA! HA!* Ya know what!? Take the rest of the day off! I wanna see my hard work!"

*He happily marches out of the room, leaving you in a rather messed up state*

"Be sure to get all the rest ya need! Ya gonna need it for tomorrow!"

*Burning Spice leaves the room, shutting the door, the second he was out of sight, you took the biggest sigh of relief. That was close, way too close! Like you practically dodged a bullet! You pull back out the crumbled-up letter and tried to fix it, somewhat regretting your decision of almost destroying it before. You had to be more careful next time*

During this entire scene, the player must be extra careful around Burning Spice, because despite how it's played, there's a route where he discovered the letter while they're asleep, and he's not too pleased with having Silent Salt trying to contact them, promptly getting so angry he burns the letter to ashes

That being said, Burning Spice, though seeming like a rage-filled brute who fights first and asks questions later, he's never threatening nor outright violent to the player, unless its a final resort. The player is a much-needed piece in a, all be it complex, puzzle, even if they don't even know it, and in order for them to work is through gaining their trust. But don't think that this is a good thing, there are many times where he could've hurt them yet actively chose not to

He immediately got to work constructing another outfit for the player cause in his own words, "there's no way ya staying here looking like that!" And the outfit he gives them perfectly reflects his ego, slick black clothing, paired with red barbaric accents, and brightly colored armor, making the player look like a mini version of himself. It's good enough for the endless training they have to do, but it's clear that some parts of the outfit were put together at the last second and were made from the minimal sewing Burning Spice learned. And if wanting to be honest, it's kinda ugly. . . Overall, it's the player's least favorite of the outfits given (if they decide it is)

Every hour, it feels like Burning Spice is always learning something new about the player, to him at least. Because of this, he celebrates every accomplishment they make with lavished (and very spicy) feasts, no matter how small they might be. Not exactly the best prize for basically being slaved away constantly to a point of exhaustion, but he doesn't need to know that. The only downside to this is that he's loud, like really loud, so loud in fact, he can't hear any other voices but his own, making him clearly oblivious to a certain someone stealing away the player(-again)

So Burning Spice, a not-so great roommate, but a pretty good personal trainer

~Silent Salt~

Ever since leaving Shadow Milk's site, someone else had been watching the player for some time, someone who wasn't too distant from the player, none other than the silent knight themself, Silent Salt Cookie

Once they found out about the player, there wasn't an ounce of disbelief nor hesitation that got into their head, they only had one goal in mind, and that was getting the player out of the other beasts' hands. But like a hungry wolf with its meal, they knew it wouldn't be easy. The other beasts always kept the player at arm's length, even with the leisure they receive, those four always made sure they were watched. And so they waited, and waited, and waited. . . In till they had the right moment to strike

Normally the beasts would be more direct when approaching the player, probably showing some pity towards them, not before whisking them away, Silent Salt on the other hand had a more different approach. They'd leave small letters for the player, all written in cursive and paired with a beautifully drawn illustration which they constructed themselves. Silent Salt essentially gives the player a bread crumb trail, preparing them for what was to come as to not spook them later

"Last one to get back to the base goes stale!"

"Burning Spice Cookie! Wait up!"

*You two were only trying to get back. . . nothing too special, yet of course, Burning Spice just had to turn it into a game of tag, didn't he?! Already tired from the day's activities, you struggled to move forward, and the barbarian is way ahead. Despite how unfair, annoying, and exhausting it was, you sighed, it wasn't the first time he did this. . . As you forced your body further, all you cared about was getting rest. You never understood why Burning Spice pushed your body to such lengths, but if there was one other reason to keep going it was to spite him. But as you were about halfway there, an unknown force suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, you yelped, why does everyone here like grabbing you!?*

"*AH!* W-What the!?-"

*Pulled into an unnoticed corner, you practically swing yourself around, already having a good idea of just who decided to yank you out of the way, and you got what you wished for. . . Hovering over your tiny body, was the silent knight themself, quiet and unmoving, looking down at you. . . You jump back a bit startled, those training sessions are sounding a lot better right now. . . Although frozen with fear, it didn't take long to realize that something wasn't right. Sure, they appeared in front of you but that was merely it, just standing there, menacingly, almost like a statue. Your fear quickly dissolves into pure confusion as you stare back at them, the moment shifting into awkward silence. You already had a decent idea of who this fellow might be, and decided to use it as a way to break the barrier between you two*

"*Um. . .* Hi. . ."

"Y-You're Silent Salt Cookie, right. . ?"

*It took them a second to respond, and by "respond" they actually crouched down and got extremely close to your face, adding to your bewilderment, and barely managing to keep your composure*

"*ah!-* I'm gonna take that as a yes. . !"

*As a result of being thrown around so much, you practically knew what was next, but seeing the knight so still felt alien to you, and almost refreshing. . ? Like you were happy to just not be snatched for once, as morbid as that sounds. Oh but no, that's not right, who's to say that this fellow was to be trusted. You make the bold choice to ask them more questions, but before another word could fall out of your mouth. . .*

"Aye Pipsqueak! What's the hold up!?"

It's a no-brainer that Burning Spice finally noticed the player's absence, they have the rightful decision of running to him or yelling out, which Silent Salt covers their mouth and attempts to take them away(what a surprise!) The second route, however, the player's (4th) kidnapping is put on display for Burning Spice, who did not handle the situation well. He immediately rushes in to save them, but Silent Salt was much too swift for him. All the while, the player attempts to save themselves; trying to kick, scream, and squirm their way to freedom, but nothing works, they were a knight after all. Enraged, Burning Spice yells at Silent Salt that he'll get revenge, and he won't be alone. . !

(And before we go on any further, I personally like to hc that Silent Salt is both mute and deaf because 1. it matches with the new ancient heroes since Pure Vanilla is heavily implied to be blind; and 2. it'd make sense that the witches would want to make a disabled cookie. During their pre-corruption days, the five virtues also had to be role models for the cookies, thus they had to, at some extent, be relatable. So giving one of the virtues something that other cookies can relate to makes sense. Oh and as a bonus, Silent Salt is completely fluent in ASL and is fairly good at lip reading; Shadow Milk and Mystic Flour are also fluent in ASL and often act as their mouth pieces. Ok moving on!)

You'd think that the player wouldn't trust Silent Salt from the jump, given the circumstances & that this happened to them so many other times, and yet. . . Silent Salt was the only one to be considerate of the player's feelings before performing the act, they knew the player would be scared, if not terrified, of them, especially when you consider their appearance and quiet nature; thus they planted the letter to let them know. So although this doesn't mean the player fully trusts them, it is a step into the right path

How they view the player is a complete mystery, unlike the other beasts, it isn't just spelled out in ink. Instead, the player has to focus on their interactions and certain body language, since they can't speak

Similarly to Eternal Sugar, Silent Salt will often give the player gifts in an attempt to gain their trust. The main difference on the other hand was that those gifts were much smaller scale than what Eternal Sugar gave them, but still feel more thought out and genuine

*Lilac-colored curtain draped over large windows, comfortable sitting, and a bed that resembled a soft marshmallow, you had to admit, for living in a wasteland, they sure knew a thing or two about decor. But as you admired your new bedroom, you get a sudden knock on the door, and opening it a crack, you see Silent Salt, they appeared to be holding a few things*

"Oh! Silent Salt Cookie! What brings you-"

*Fully opening the door revealed what they were holding, a bouquet of beautifully made paper flowers in one hand, and a sliver tin, filled with salted chocolates in the other. Seeing the gifts, you were pleasantly surprised, not just by the tin of sweets but the paper flowers, so true to life and clearly made by them, you were amazed by the fact they were able to pull something like that off*

"Wow! are these for me?"

*The knight nodded their head, handing both gifts to you. Despite how small the gesture was, you still felt a tiny bit overwhelmed, the smallest hint of blush creeped onto your face*

"T-Thank you! They're lovely!"

Silent Salt was & still somewhat is known for their skills with a sword, thus the reason why their minigame is based on "Fruit Ninja." The player, instead of slicing fruit, is made to cut different pieces of paper according to a dotted line, in an attempt to mimic Silent Salt's paper flowers

While out exploring and doing tasks, Silent Salt will actually partner up with the player & help them, which is already a massive change from the player's other beast encounters. Either they'd find ways to stretch the task out even longer, or just not help at all, so having them there is a huge change of pace. They're always by the player's side, because of this, they can come off as clingy at times

They, like most of the beasts, give the player free range to do whatever, but is quick to set boundaries. The player isn't allowed to go into certain areas without their supervision, especially at night

*Lightly tracking your steps across cold floors, you carefully tiptoe through the Silent domain, moonlight streaking onto every nook and cranny acted as your only light source, which you tried to use to your advantage, the last thing you wanted was to be caught. But when you turned the corner, guess who you unceremoniously bumped into. . ? Pressed into their chest, you abruptly backed away startled & flustered realizing who it was, Silent Salt just looked at you, just like before*

"*Ah!-* Silent Salt Cookie. . ! It's not what you think. . !"

"I-I just have a few other things to do, that's all!-"

*The silent knight only stood there, arms crossed, making their stance all the more stern. You already had a good idea of what was going on in their head, no amount of convincing would change your fate. So with a sigh, you started heading back to your room, not before Silent Salt gently scoops you up, refusing to let you touch the floor, and carried you there themself. Blushing rapidly, you beg and plead for them to put you down, but failed miserably; why does everyone like carrying you so much. . ?*

Silent Salt treats the player like they're the most fragile thing on Earthbread, handling them with care and, with their position as a knight, more than happy to cater to their every need and desire

Due to their disability and limitations in lip reading, talking to them is difficult, creating this communication barrier between them and the player. This, however, doesn't stop the two of them from trying to fix the issue

That being said, Silent Salt most definitely wants to teach the player ASL so they can communicate easier. They made sure they'd take their time, teaching them all they need to know, starting with letters, to phrases, to full sentences. Even if the player struggles to learn at first, they're extremely patient with them, teaching things one step at a time

If it wasn't already obvious, Silent Salt is very delicate with their hands, due to their precise skills with a sword. Because of this, they picked up quite a few hobbies, like painting and drawing, clearly showed by the letter they made the player before, and surprisingly, braiding hair

*Slowly, the silent knight carefully overlapped strand after strand of hair from your head into beautiful braids. They put special care into each braid, constantly checking with you to make sure they were comfortable, even going the extra mile of creating more paper flowers to infuse into the braids. Sitting in front of the bedroom's vanity mirror, you were in awe at how perfect the braids were, your hair practically became an art project! Looking back at them, you couldn't see their face, but you could tell Silent Salt was genuinely enjoying themself, how they added flower after flower, even sometimes placing one directly onto your head; because well, why not? It was moments like this that made you think back to when you first met, back to when their silence felt alien to you, and how you were so unwilling to cooperate. . . Yes, you still didn't fully trust the knight, all of this just felt too perfect, almost too good to be true even, but it does. After placing the last flower, they were finally done, the braids were wrapped around your head and tied in the back with a purple ribbon*

If the hairstyle doesn't make them feel like royalty, then don't worry, Silent Salt had them covered. Cause not soon after doing their hair, they presented their outfit, which looked more like a gorgeous gown than any regular dress. Everything about it was perfect, the long white silk trin that partly touched the floor, the bow around the waste that matched your hair, the simple purple accents, its ruffled layers, everything. But possibly the most radiant part of the gown was these beautiful sewn in embroideries, each more beautiful than the last, all throughout. This was the straw that broke that camel's back, such actions of kindness couldn't go unrewarded; so through ASL, the player is able to sign phrases "thank you" and "sorry," to which Silent Salt immediately accepts. Quite a shame the player couldn't do more. . . The only two downside one could think of is that it strongly resembled a wedding dress, which can give the wrong ideas fast; also the gown length gives the possibility of tripping, but that's a simple price to pay

The relationship between the player and Silent Salt is mostly through action, and to some extent, physical touch. The player is always finding new and creative ways to repay them for everything they've done, often finding themselves cooking or cleaning for them, even gifting them drawings and paper creations they made themselves. Silent Salt does find this sweet and charming, but as a knight, they really have no desires. They crave the simpler things, like holding hands, learning ASL, or just being together in general. No amount of wasted paper would change that

Unfortunately, as stated before, not everything can be too blissful. . . Silent Salt is regularly shown to be extremely overprotective of the player, which does make sense considering their role; Silent Salt is a knight, keeping the innocent safe is their job, and the fact that the other beasts were also after them only made them double down on protecting them. Now, Silent Salt, before meeting the player, had no plans of escape, at least even they think of, in fact, became increasingly fond of their surroundings. . . Only when they learned the player did they start to reconsider. . . with a new opportunity, they couldn't simply pass it up. . .

Because of this, they've developed a 6th sense(or 5th or 4th) whenever they felt the player was in danger. Silent Salt can pick up signals of danger from miles away, and acts quickly ensure their safety, so imagine the player's surprise and confusion when being rushed somewhere else

*Everything was a blur. . . One second ago you and Silent Salt were spending time together per usual, before you knew it you were being pulled into your room, and Silent Salt was doing repeated checks on the door and windows, making sure they were locked. Confused, you try to stop them in their tracks, to get some sort of answer, but all they did was clutch both your hands tightly, looking you directly in the eyes; before abruptly letting go, telling you to never, for any reason, open the door or windows till they came back, then disappears, leaving you in a state of flustered shock. Even if completely unexpected on your end, it became increasingly clear why Silent Salt acted the way they did. . . with a battle axe, guess who was waiting just outside. . ?*

"Salty! right on time!~ It's been awhile, hasn't it?~"

*The knight merely stood there, sword in hand with a tight grip. They already knew what the brute was saying, him placing the axe's handle on the back of his neck as he began to walk towards them*

"Honestly, I'm pretty surprised Salty!~ Out of everybody here, it's you who'd be dumb enough to steal from me, me!"

"Cause when I think of stealing, I usually think of Shadow Milk Cookie, maybe Eternal Sugar Cookie if what we're after is really worth fighting for, but you?! *HA!* Didn't think of ya as the taking type!~"

"*Hmm. . .* I like it! You know I always love a good surprise?~"

*With every step he took, Silent Salt only further stood their ground, having already pulled their sword out from the dirt and getting into a battle stance. Upon reading their body language, his grin only got bigger, he knew exactly what was doing and actively stirred the pot. He put his hands up as he backed away in a condescending yet reassuring tone*

"*Woah!-* *Woah!-* Easy there buddy!~ Now I know what it looks like, but I promise, I didn't come here to cause trouble. . ."

"Instead, I'm looking for a little. . . exchange. . ."

*Burning Spice proceeded to hold his axe behind his back to make himself appear more innocent. All the while Silent Salt didn't once get out of their battle-ready mindset*

"Now I know I can be a little. . . hectic at times, but for this I'm willing to make one exception. . ."

"Say, I won't leave a scratch on your place, if you return what you've stole from me. . !"

"A simple deal, really!- You get out of this with no causalities, and I leave with that little cookie in tow!~ So what do ya say. . ?"

*Silent Salt was only getting parts of the Burning Spice's so called "deal," and already, they were not having it. . ! With just a blink of an eye, Silent Salt went from guarding their domain to holding the tip of their blade at Burning Spice's throat, as if they teleported, they were that fast. . ! Along with Shadow Milk's lies, none of the beasts were dumb enough to fall for one of his exchanges! The knight was clearly provoked; exactly what the brute wanted, so he kicked back far enough to pull his axe out from his back. Though the kick was strong, Silent Salt was still able to hold their ground, using their sword to keep their footing. There was a battle-hungry look in his eyes*

"*HA HA!* You just love surprising me, don't ya Salty?!"

*He then stretched his neck and shoulders, tense bones popped at the motion. Then proceeded to do his battle stance*

"Whatever! Wouldn't have worked anyway! Besides, no one gets dumber around here, right?! *HA!*"

"But one thing's for sure. . . Doesn't matter how tough you act. . . I'm not leaving without my pipsqueak. . !"

*His tone shifted to slight anger as his hair turned into bright flames. Having weapons drawn, it's clear as day as neither was willing to do what the other wanted, nor give in. Both had goals set in stone and willing to follow through with them; but just before they could actually strike at one and other. . .*

"*Yoo-hoo~* Up here!~"

"Apologizes for being so late you two, we've bumped into some. . . causalities. . ."

*In from above, flew in Eternal Sugar atop one of her clouds as Mystic Flour floated beside her, landing onto opposites of the brute and knight, creating this strange box. Burning Spice became all the happier, being the violence-obsessed cookie he was, this just maybe the fight more interesting for him. While Silent Salt was as stern as ever, despite being outnumbered*

"Misty! Sugar! Welcome to the party!! Just when things were starting to get interesting!~"

"*Ugh* Don't overexcite yourself Burning Spice Cookie, some of us only want this to be over with. . !"

*She has a quick glance at the beasts around her, just as annoyed of as before*

"So . . . I assume we all know about our new. . . 'inhabitant,' yes?"

*The silent knight nodded*

"*Pfft* *Uh Duh!-* What's was ya first clue?!"

"That's right! It's been far too long since I've seen another cookie, and when I finally find one, they're snatched from my hands!"

"Oh my poor little mouse!~ They must've been so lonely since they were taken away from me!"

"Being pushed and pulled by some brute and locked away by some scary knight?!~ What can be worse?!"

*Eternal Sugar whined and whined, nitpicking everything that she deemed "cruel treatment," and although most of the things said were true, Burning Spice couldn't help but take offense*

"Aye! What do ya mean by 'pushing and pulling around?!' I have you know I treat them with utmost respect and care!"

"*HA!* You call your so called 'training' of yours respect and care?! Don't make me laugh!"

"Unlike you, I provide my little mouse with everything they could ever need, everything they desire. . ! I make them happy! All your training does is ruin their perfect mind and body!"

*She looked over to her two other comrades*

"At least I can be assured that those two actually kept them safe, otherwise, I wouldn't know what I'd do. . ."

"Even Shadow Milk Cookie takes better care of my little mouse. . ."

*That's when most of the group realized a crucial detail, where the heck was Shadow Milk?! Unannounced to them, Mystic Flour already had a good idea of where he was, but waited to answer. . .*

"Oh yeah! Shadow Milk Cookie isn't here! Where is the guy anyway?!"

"When we found out the pika was being kept here, we came as soon as possible. But it wasn't long before Shadow Milk separated from us; we tried to pursue him but by then, he was already gone. . ."

"Perhaps we should wait for him. . .Knowing him, he likely has something planned. . !"

*With Shadow Milk being the smartest of their group, waiting for him seemed like the safest option, after all he was known for his tricks, who knows what he could be planning. Yet the brute and angel, who always had something to say, didn't have the patience for such. . .*

"And let him get another chance on stealing my little mouse away again?! Absolutely not!!"

"Yeah Misty, not having Shadow Milk Cookie around means less of us to get through, even if it is kinda boring! *HA HA!*"

"Wouldn't want his filth to rub off on my pipsqueak. . !"

*Eternal Sugar gasped in surprise and utter disgust*

"'Your' Pipsqueak?! are you delusional?! Clearly they're mine!!"

*Burning Spice cracked his knuckles, as he puffed his chest*

"Oh yeah?! Then why don't ya prove it?!"

*Mystic Flour groaned in irritation, if her eyes were open she would have definitely rolled them, this charade was going too far*

"*Ugh* You two are bickering like children! Could you at least not treat them like some object?! It's likely that the pika will return to me or Silent Salt Cookie, at least we don't see them as a mere pet. . !"

*Silent Salt nodded in agreement*

"And yet, I think we all know what we're really after. . . "

*With that sentence alone, it made Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar as quiet as Silent Salt was. . . The whole area was hushed, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. . .The four beasts side eyed each other, as if ready to duel; evidence was undeniably clear, they wanted to use you. . .for something? After keeping their running mouths shut for what felt like decades, Burning Spice finally breaks the silence, drawing his weapon, his patience was already dissolved. . .*

"Alright, that's it! We all want the cookie, and just sitting around isn't gonna help!"

"So, let's settle this. . . once and for all. . !"

"Agreed!"

"*Ugh* Suppose we should get this over with. . !"

*As Silent Salt drew their sword, the battle had began. The four played sides, the three of them trying to barge their way in, and Silent Salt trying to keep them out; and despite how unfair the fight seemed, not only were they evenly matched, but they all were fighting for themselves, for their own selfish goals, all of which surrounded getting to you. . . Speaking of that, you were once more left in the dark, spared from the situation. Not to say you aren't curious about what was going on either, in fact you were completely willing to open the windows to look outside if Silent Salt didn't tell you to keep them closed. Laying on top of the marshmallow bed, you stare up at the ceiling in boredom and something else. You received another to be alone with your thoughts, really rekindle and wonder. . . What the hell was going on?! First you were teleported to this strange place, then you were kidnapped five times, then you basically died and came back to life? Nothing about your situation was normal! Not to mention the cookies you're trapped with, if you can even call them "cookies" what even were they? You didn't know anything about them, what to feel about them, let alone if you could trust them or not. . . Questions were swimming in your head like fish upstream, feelings fighting for control in till. . .*

"*AH HAHAHAHA!~* no matter what, the story always stays the same!~"

*You hear a voice, a squeaky, arrogant, yet oh so voice. . . You look around in surprise, was that who you thought it was?!*

"That's right!~ The hero has arrived!~"

". . .To save his damsel in distress!~"

*CRASH!*

*Destroying one of the windows, bursts in the self-proclaimed trickster himself, Shadow Milk Cookie, the suddenness of the action making you fall off your bed startled and almost near giving you a heart attack. When hitting the ground, he did a quick barrel roll before landing on one knee in a sort of "ta-da!" position, acting like he didn't ruin a perfectly good glass plane, and much to your bewilderment. You quickly get up and stand towards him*

"S-Shadow Milk?! Are you ok?!"

"Awh~ Look at you!~ worrying for lil'ol me!~"

"I'm perfectly fine my little mousey!~ Absolutely splendid!~"

*You knew you should've expected a reaction like that from him of all cookies, but it didn't stop you from going dumbfounded*

"You just jumped in through a closed window!!"

*He then went on this long, overexaggerated, winded speech about how much he missed you, how you two had been separated for far too long, what lengths he had to go through just to get to you, but you were wise enough to know that he was partly spewing out lies. . . Mystic Flour knew he had a plan, and had a plan he did! whilst everyone else was occupied, he'd snuck in through a back window, unbelievable how such a cheap tactic was able to work. . . It wasn't long for Shadow Milk to notice the beautiful dress you were wearing, and lights up with glee, zipping toward you, and scaring you once more*

"And might I add, that is quite a marvelous gown you have on!~ *AH!* It makes you look so much more like a proper damsel!~ who made it?!"

"Well-. . ."

*He cuts you off before another word could come out of your mouth*

"-Oh, no, no, no, wait!- don't tell me, Silent Salt Cookie made this, didn't they?~"

"*AH!* It's such a no brainer!~ They make such amazing things, of course they'd make something this cute!~ I'm a little jealous!~ *hehehe!~*"

"*Whew!~* Okay, I think we had enough excitement for one day, hadn't we?~"

*He abruptly grabs your arm and pulls you close, startling you as blush begins to creep up your cheeks*

"Time to go home!~"

*It was the mention of "home" that threw you into a loop, what did he mean by "go home?!" Shocked, you pulled yourself away from the trickster, causing surprise and slight annoyance on his end*

"H-Home?! What are you talking about?!"

"Oh, you ask such silly questions, I'm taking you with me! Back to my humble abode!~"

Obviously, going back to the guy that had the player turned into two halves, is something that they aren't fully ready to do, thus are given the choice to go with him or not; to which both have different, yet very grim results. . . If they say yes, Shadow Milk Cookie will carry them out of Silent Salt's domain, not before being founded out by the other beasts, causing the player to be caught up within the drama, eventually getting stabbed through the chest from all the excitement. . ! On the other hand, if they say no, Shadow Milk with become more persuasive toward the player, reminding them of their time spent apart. If they deny him enough times, his patience begins to wane as his persona falls apart. Becoming more demanding till he snaps, forcing the player to leave with him; but it was already too late, as the other beasts had shown up, who aren't too happy about his late arrival, and chaos ensues, leading to the player getting decapitated. . !(Woooo-)

~Final~

The player ends up back at the top of the altar in the Silver Forest, completely passed out from the shock. All the beasts, after freaking out over their dead body, head there in a heartbeat, arguing over who'd be the one to take the player home, till Mystic Flour decides enough is enough, ending the argument and declaring the Shadow Milk should be the one to take in the player since he found them first, further saying that arguing wouldn't get them anywhere and wants to start a meeting before anyone else could argue back. . . Fast forward to Shadow Milk's base, the player is getting some well needed rest as the beasts are discussing what to do next, although it isn't entirely apparent that they remember how they got there, having them around could be beneficial to their much bigger goals. After a bit of talking, Shadow Milk conjures up a wonderfully, awful, idea. . . keeping the player as their hostage. . . Think about it! From the outside world, they already have reputations for being cold and cruel monsters, if they found out they had a cookie with them, they'd go nuts! Plus, who'd be more inclined to get involved? None other than the new Guardian Of The Seal, and Ancient Hero herself, White Lily Cookie. . . Long story short, they all agree with the plan, as it will guarantee their escape, and check on the player not long after, who was still passed out

*In your dormant state, you lay unconscious as all five beasts watched you, each of them claimed a corner of the bed. As they watched, Silent Salt noticed a slight twitching in your hand, and instinctively embraced theirs into yours, rubbing their thumb on your wrist. Not everybody took it well, cause Eternal Sugar shooed their hand away just a few seconds later*

"*Ugh* Get your hands away from them, you're ruining their slumber. . !"

*She turns back to you as her mood shifts from annoyance to gentle delight*

"Awh~ They look so precious!~"

*Burning Spice leaned forward on the bed to get a better look at you, he seemed upset*

"How long are they gonna be like this. . ? It's been awhile now. . ."

"Roughly a few hours, but I believe they will be awake by tomorrow. . . Poor thing, must have scared them quite a lot "

". . . I think it'd be wise to not tell the pika about our plan, after all, we did get this far with them"

"Right you are, my dear comrade!~"

"If it were to get out that we were keeping them for our own sake, it'd surely shatter any trust we might have, and we don't want them defying us, now do we?~"

*The other beasts agreed*

"*hehehehe!* So it's settled!~"

*Running a hand up your arm, the trickster looked back at you with his signature smile*

"*Hehehehe!*Oh be sure to get all the rest you need, my little mousey!~"

"Cause you'll be in for quite the performance!~"

And that's pretty much how the story begins, the player is their little doll for the time being, none the wiser about the beasts' plans for hostage type deal with The Guardian Of The Seal

(holy crap we're almost done, guess it's time to talk about some background and bonus info)

~Background~

You are playing as the new resident of the Faerie Kingdom, a half-faerie who grew up in Crispia. There, they are known for two things, having cookie genetics and being kinda an a*s, everything makes them unique compared to other faeries, especially the lack of wings on their back, and their personality isn't exactly a pocket of sunshine either. So throw that in a blender, and you got yourself unnecessary fame that many don't want. The player receives the full "little sibling treatment" with faeries being overbearing and constantly getting doted on. Which, of course, sucks, day by day, no matter where they go, they can't escape it! The only escape they have from it all is their day job, working as the librarian's assistant is when they could finally have some peace and quiet, alongside the librarian, who became the player's good friend

Ok! Bonus Stuff!

With the player's kidnapping and life within the Silver Kingdom, a few bonus relationships the player can have are with Silverbell, Mercury Knight, Pure Vanilla, and of course White Lily. SB and Mercury are like childhood friends/crushes, having met the player before the events of the main game, making the player more acquainted toward them. White Lily and Pure Vanilla on the other hand, take a parental role, acting as the player's protectors much later in the game. Both are relatively more alien to the player, especially White Lily, but the two quickly insert themselves, insisting that they only want to keep the player safe(which makes sense considering their mission is to protect Cookiekind, and the player certainly counts) Out of the two, it's White Lily we end up getting the closest with(a mother + child bond if you will), as Guardian Of The Seal, she was horrified to find out the player was being held hostage by the beasts, and wanted to do anything in her power to save them. She also took a liking to their personality (which's fine I guess???)

It may not look like it, but this game is all about choice. It's about the ideas and importance of choice, how decisions affect your life, how even bigger decisions are often made by selfish people, and (I'm probably gonna get publicly executed for this!-) how a democracy should be handled, because let's be honest, we need a better one. . . We'll see plenty examples of a bad democracy among the beasts, as Shadow Milk, the proclaimed "leader" constantly makes choices for others, in reality only thinking about himself; it's through the player he learns to give the others a say in the matter. Speaking of which, it's the player's choices that will have the most impact as the story continues, like how most games do, the only difference is that the game provides a much wider buffet of choices, making the opportunities endless!

.

.

.

If you're reading this then, Congratulations!

You Made It To The End!

Here's A Trophy!🏆(for both me and you cause omfg this took FOREVER! I'm happy with the final result but like- I never thought this would take like 5 weeks to make ;w;)

If I could go back in time, I would've definitely made this shorter. . !

If you any other ideas for this strange fangame, then feel free to let me know!~

Ok, bye!~^^

*decomposes into the soil*

[randomusingsofalovesickgirl]

BACK TO FRIENDS: DAYLIGHT

masterlist

a/n: can be read standalone, or as a blurb prior to the back to friend series! || also not fully proofread lol

🎶 daylight by taylor swift 🎶 if i'm honest by trousdale 🎶 friends by ed sheeran

When he invited you over for a cup of tea, the last thing you expected was getting dragged into his daily stream. 

“And today, we have a special, special, guest!” He exclaimed, drumming the table dramatically, before leaning in and reading the captions. “Chat, Chris is not special. He literally lives here, I can drag him in whenever.” 

You snorted, making George look in your direction and smile. Motioning for you to come in, you popped your head into the corner of the frame and waved enthusiastically. “Hey guys! Chris is safe today, I’m the one who got dragged today.” 

Most of your subscribers and followers know your feelings about Twitch: you respected the grind and the hustle, but you were not a fan. 

A tip came in, with the message: finally! 

Another one came in, she also joins u all the time tho

“She does, she does, I know,” George threw his arm around the chair you’re sitting in, “but what can I say? We just can’t get enough of her.” He pinched your cheek, making you roll your eyes and push his arm away.

George can u do smth else real quick we wanna talk to just her 

He scoffed, flabbergasted. “So, this is my stream, and you’re telling me to leave!” He turned to face you, “you’re stealing my spotlight! Leave now!” 

“Happy to!” Immediately, you stood up–teasing him and pretending to leave. His hand instinctively went to your arm, dragging you down back into your seat. “No, stay, stay, I’m kidding!” 

“I thought you wanted me to leave?” You retorted, arching your eyebrow. “Hey, maybe this is a sign I should start streaming…” Dozens of comments came in, supporting the idea. “I’ll stream at the same time as you as well, take away all your views…” You trailed off, teasingly. 

George dramatically put his hand on his heart, before you returned your attention to the chat. “Can you two watch this video, please?” George read out, navigating his mouse to the link. 

While George continued to entertain the chat, telling them about his day; you leaned in, curious—until the title loaded.

Your stomach dipped.

The caption read: “they’re fr dating but just not telling us,” followed with a series of hashtags including your names. 

It was a TikTok edit. Of course it was.

And then the music started. And you had to stop yourself from internally face-palming. 

Of course, it was Taylor Swift. No edit of anyone with Taylor Swift music could ever be just platonic. Ever. 

There were flashes from your own vlogs–your park walks, late-night food runs, gym sessions, dinner at yours. Snippets from friend’s videos; the two of you chatting to yourselves in a crowd of people, the video cropped to highlight the two of you giggling. It would cut to the game night he hosted, you sitting between his legs and him staring at you a little too long with a look you swore your roommate gave her boyfriend a million times. You, watching him, that same night and smiling. It ended on Arthur TV's stream, someone asking him where George was, only for him to respond that he was with you, "as always".

It played like a montage of a couple who just hadn’t admitted it yet, or a recap of a couple to be played at their wedding. A highlight reel of moments you didn’t realise anyone noticed. 

Your heart kicked in your chest.

“Wait, oh my gosh, what the fuck did you do?” you blurted, reaching for the mouse, clicking away on another video before George could properly see it. You forced a laugh, pulling your best “shocked by George being a dumbass” expression. The stream would see this as you getting distracted by a stupid video of George, a friend wanting to make fun of the other. 

Distraction was always the easiest weapon.

He looked up at the new clip. It was the football shoot—the one where he tripped and sprained his ankle.

“You knew about it!” he said, eyes lighting up. “That day was terrible.” He looked at you with a new look in his eyes, and you immediately had to turn away. You couldn’t give the fans any more ammunition. 

But still, you swallowed hard. He didn’t say it out loud, but you remembered it well. You got the call from Chris that George was being a baby, so you showed up to see George at home pouting like a kid who had all their candy stolen from them. You remember bandaging him up. How he insisted you stayed over. How you two watched a movie while you helped him iced his leg, with his head on your shoulder. The weight of him was so comfortable that it hurt a little.

He turned back to chat. “Why did you guys send us this? We literally lived it.”

You changed the topic before the stream could correct him. After all, they hadn’t sent that TikTok. You clicked on it, away from what they did send. 

You didn’t want him to see that TikTok. To overthink everything between you. 

And he hadn’t seen it. But you had. And you couldn't unsee it.

It suddenly felt like a spotlight was on you, burning you up; making you sweat. Your hands felt clammy, your cheeks felt flushed, and your heart felt like it was beating miles per minute. 

You tried to follow George’s voice as he kept talking to chat, but everything sounded far away. Muffled.

You were still seeing the edit. Still hearing the music.

“I once believed love would be burning red…”

Your throat tightened.

You’d been in denial because it was safer, funnier, easier. But sitting next to him now, while your heart raced and the chat erupted in chaos.

It wasn’t a joke anymore. 

You missed him when you didn’t see him. The day felt empty when you didn’t text him or see him at least once. Your mood depended on whether he laughed at something you said. You knew how exactly he likes his tea, his Twitch schedule, and the weird look of concentration he had when he was stuck editing. 

You realised your whole world was built around him without intending to.

And it’s crazy. First, he was that weird guy you met at a Sidemen video, doing impressions on stage. And now he was your lifeline. 

After seeing it played back to you, it finally hit you—

You liked George. 

And not just a little.

You liked him in a way that made your chest ache.

In a way you couldn’t laugh off.

In a way that scared you shitless.

And you don’t want to think about going home and rambling to your roommate about this realisation, who’d only say four words back to you: “I fucking called it.”

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

taglist: @rubyskies @edgyficuselastica @gmontaguesbitch @sundarksposts @canyouseethesainz @lovingaphroditesworld @maggie-readss @liz140569 @lmaowhathaha @moofilms @lalisasrealwife @courtjjade @bowielovesyou @raekensluver @cuntessaii @theresglittleronthefloor @isabelle-2934 @smzyyx @wroetominter @madforgeorge @megan-jane02 @lottiewills @cheesystylesig @suspicious-stain-in-spain @kneelforloki @wherethezoes-at @clarkey4life

[creadigol]

Villain and Photographer Part 3!

Part 1, part 2.

Well, this took me a while to update. But I finally got the inspiration! I hope you like it and that it was worth the wait. 

I incorporated an OC of mine who I’ve been working on for a while…I’ll let y’all guess who it is. I love them so much! 

Just a reminder that these snippets are not prompts, but original writings. Please do not duplicate or copy. If you want to do anything with the stories I have here on the blog, feel free to message me about it! I promise I’m super chill. 

Anyway, on to the story! 

Warnings: There are mentions of blood, gore, and some swearing. Please be safe my darlings! 

Past

Photographer tried to keep their quickened footsteps quiet as they walked and replaced their film at the same time. It was a complicated process of cartridges and tubes, but one they had mastered long ago. It would have been easier if they used a digital camera, easier for them and for Editor, but they preferred their restored 1950s Kodak Vito B. There was something more real about the pictures…something truer…no tampering, no editing, no light adjustment, just the scene in front of them captured forever. 

It helped that their readers preferred the style as well. 

Clicking the side film compartment closed, Photographer slowed their pace. They approached the abandoned harbor warehouse with caution. Normally, they tried to stay away from this area unless someone else was with them for protection…sometimes it was the police, sometimes it was Hero…a few times it had even been Villain. Those had been the best pictures. Photographer had even been able to sell a few to Time Magazine. 

It felt good to know their work was immortalized. 

But Photographer had seen Hero walk into the warehouse not ten minutes ago, so it wasn’t like they would have no safety precautions. Hero always looked out for them and Reported while on duty.

Though, Hero was acting strangely today, a little irritable, so Photographer followed them all the way from midtown. Photographer knew that look on Hero’s face, that irritation, it happened right before Hero engaged in a high priority scuffle. Photographer intended for this scuffle to be documented and published before any other news agency knew it happened. 

Reporter is going to be so happy with this scoop!

The main gate was not an option, Photographer didn’t want to get involved in whatever it was the Hero was doing, just document it; so they opted for the rickety fire escape that landed them on a large loft-like area overseeing the rest of the warehouse. Likey where the old forman’s desk used to be, but now there was nothing but open space and a few rusty holes. 

Slowly navigating the condemned space, Photographer listened as hushed voices floated up and around them. 

Hero was talking to someone. 

Photographer grinned as their instincts smelled a juicy story. 

They inched to the edge, placed the camera to their eye, and zoomed in on the two figures standing in the evening light below them. 

One was definitely Hero. Their face was at just the right angle for the perfect shot. 

The other…their back was turned…Photographer could have sworn their short, pudgy statue was familiar…but from where?

“It was one job. I don’t understand what made it so difficult!” 

Photographer twitched their eyebrow in surprise, but kept the camera still. 

Hero had never looked like that before. Hero had never sounded like that before.

Hero sounded so angry…so angry…so unlike Hero. 

Photographer clicked the first picture.

“I tried! Assistant Director is making it difficult! He watches everything like a goddamn hawk!” The pudgy man was quaking in his response. Photographer tried to place his voice, but couldn’t. If only he would turn around…

“Assistant Director is a young upstart! A child compared to you! Are you telling me you couldn’t misdirect him long enough to get the info?”

Info? Info for what? Who’s this Assistant Director? Why was Hero asking and acting this way? 

The pudgy man violently flinched at Hero’s words. 

“I’m telling you his brian is like a fucking machine. He knows when anything is out of order…”

“So spill some fucking corn chips in his office and let his ocd brain implode for a stint while you get the info! It’s not that hard!” Hero’s face was red now, their eyes dark and dangerous. Photographer almost jumped back themselves, the camera’s vintage lens making Hero’s dangerous aura look so much closer than it was. 

Something was wrong….really, really wrong. 

They clicked the next picture. 

“Look, there’s a reason he got the job in the first place. Ain’t no super getting one over on ‘im! He’s got the whole system on lockdown until the new director is settled…sucking up to the new boss no doubt….”

“Which is why I told you to do it now! While he’s distracted! You idiot! ”

Hero raged forward a step and the pudgy man whirled back with a spin and tumble.

There!

Photographer snapped a picture. Both faces in full view. 

That was…that was…Photographer wracked their brain as they snapped another two pictures. 

That was Agent! From Investigation Agency! Photographer remembered them now. They had more than a few photos of incident scenes with Agent in the background. 

But what were they talking…

That’s right. Reporter told them a couple days ago. Investigation Agency was getting a new director. Things were a little crazy at the moment. Assistant Director was running things until everything was settled. 

But why did Hero want information from and/or about Assistant Director? As far as Photographer knew, Assistant Director worked fairly well with supers…as long as their paperwork was in order and they followed protocol to a T. They were known as being a hard ass, and incredibly anal…but the furthest thing from corrupt.

“There’s nothing for it! Assistant Director doesn’t trust me! I tried!” Agent was backing up further and further and Hero was slowing following. 

Photographer snapped two more photos. 

Shit, this was getting out of hand. Hero looked ready to kill. Their power was crackling around their fists in white sparks. The light of it hurt Photographer’s eyes through the lens. 

Photographer silently slipped their flip phone from their pocket. Their customary danger and location text already written and ready to send. It was a habit they got into after one too many incidents of losing the shot because they were busy calling for help. 

They hit send. 

Reporter would know what to do next. 

Photographer’s eyes never left the camera lens. 

“So you’re saying that you failed. You couldn’t convince him of your loyalty after all your years at the Investigation Agency?” Hero’s words were cold and low. Almost too low for Photographer to pick up from their perch. 

Agent sputtered, “No! I didn’t fail! Assistant Director doesn’t trust anyone! No one could have done it!”

“What I hear is…that you're useless.” 

Hero’s fist was white hot…they raised it to Agent.

Photographer clicked, clicked, clicked the camera not truly believing what they were seeing….Hero couldn’t possibly…they were Hero…there was no way!

“Look, I…” They never finished the sentence. 

Instantly, precisely, Hero struck. White hot fist, cutting through flesh and bone like butter. 

Their arm was in and through Agent’s chest by the time it took Photographer to snap one photo from the next. 

Click, click, click, click. 

In Hero’s fist was Agent’s heart. Still beating. Agent’s eyes stood wide and unbelieving looking down at the arm in their chest.

Click, click, click, click.

Photographer clicked as the life left Agent’s eyes. 

They couldn’t stop…couldn’t do anything…they just snapped the photos as the man was murdered.

Oh god! Oh god! 

Photographer’s whole body was shaking…Hero had…Hero was…oh god! 

They had to get out of here!

Thye snapped one final picture as Hero ripped their arm back and let Agent fall. 

Photographer shuffled back from the edge, hoping to god that Hero would be too distracted to hear them. 

They had to get this film somewhere safe!

Suddenly, as Photographer was inching further back, a loud bang echoed through the warehouse. 

Photographer looked over at the main gate. Hero whipped around, still standing over the bloody body. 

In through the ruined gate strode…Villain!

Villain, with their hands raised, power pulsing, and gaze locked on Hero. 

“Hero, what the hell…” Their gaze fell to the blood caking Hero’s arm, then to the body behind them. Villain’s entire body tensed, “Who is that?”

Hero raised their arms in a defense pose, “No one of consequence.” 

“You bastard/bitch!”

Villain struck. The fight broke out and Photographer ran. 

Over to the fire escape they came in on…they could hear the battle of the two supers…powers being thrown at each other with reckless abandon….they climbed down…clutched the Kodak with all their worth. 

Photographer ran around towards the front, intending to run back the way they came…surely help was on the way…they had texted Reporter…

They approached the side with the ruined gate. If they could just run past, while Hero and Villain were distracted…

A loud ringing strike was the only warning Photographer got before Villain and Hero burst through the warehouse entrance. They skidded to a halt. Their path was blocked.

Villain stood over Hero, power pouring off them in a way Photographer had never seen before. They punched, and punched, and pummeled Hero into the asphalt with a look of pure, unfiltered hatred. 

Photographer lifted the camera on instinct.

Villain’s fist went down, up, down, up, down, and up with blood. 

Photographer gasped. 

Villain’s head whipped to them. 

Photographer snapped the photo. 

Everyone froze. 

“Photographer…” Villain whispered, almost like a prayer. 

Villain dropped a limp Hero into the dust. Their gaze did not leave Photographer. 

“Photographer.” Was Villain shaking? Of course, they just beat the shit out of Hero. 

Photographer snapped another photo. Their gaze then lifted from the lens and met Villains. 

The world needed to know…they needed to know what Hero did…they needed to know who Hero did and who it was that stopped them.

The sound of the ruined gates collapsing, loud and jarring, snapped Photographer back to themselves. They backed away, still in shock. 

“Photographer!” Villain took a step towards them. “It’s not…”

Photographer looked down at the beaten Hero. Blood covered their nose and forehead, but where they expected to see closed, knocked out eyelids, they were met with wide rage filled eyes…staring at Photographer. 

Photographer made a noise, something between an involuntary whimper and sob. 

“Wait…” Villain took a step towards them. 

Photographer turned and ran. 

Away, away from their parked car, away from the warehouse, away from Villain, and most importantly away from Hero. 

They hid the film. 

Reporter didn’t believe them. 

Editor said to leave it. 

Two days later, Photographer opened their door to Hero; who backed them inside and locked the door. 

Hero demanded the film. 

Photographer said no. 

They’d been a prisoner in their own home ever since. 

Present

Villain’s mind whirled with the information Photographer signed to them. So Photographer had seen the truth. They had photographed the truth as they always did. Now they were protecting that truth with their own life. 

It had been three weeks. Photographer couldn’t last much longer.

Villain knew they needed help. In their mind they kept imagining Photographer, cold and limp on the ground, covered in their own blood, their heart clutched in Hero’s hand…

God, when they arrived at the warehouse…seen the body of Agent…Villain had thought it was…

But it wasn’t. And now Photographer needed Villain’s help. 

Hero had gone too far. Villain’s informants said Hero was working on something big. Like, BIG, big. Take over the city big. 

Villain couldn’t do this on their own. 

They approached the elegant house with caution. Nothing, nothing on God’s good green Earth would take Villain here…nothing short of the end of the world. 

Yet, here they stood, on the porch that was decorated with no less than ten perfectly trimmed ferns and painted to perfection. Fucking typical. The neurotic bastard. 

Despite the lateness of the night, Villain knew the occupant would still be awake. 

They knocked on the door. 

Not a minute later it swung open.

There, with a gun in his hand and a frown on his face, stood Villain’s least favorite person in the world. 

“Now, who the fuck gave you my address?” Asked Assistant Director. 

@rivalriotrenegade @miniaturedreamharmony @crow-with-a-typewriter @wraith-the-rock @aetheriumnoctes @dakshii

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Remember

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Prompt - "I thought you’d never remember.”

Notes - I don't even know if this fandom is still alive but I'm rewatching ouat so have this fic

The day he first saw her, Ms Emma Swan in Storybrooke, Gold was certain all the air had been punched out of his lungs. He’d played it off, of course, not letting it show just how impactful her sudden appearance was to him. 

It wasn’t until he was alone, safely inside his shop, hidden away in the back room that he let his facade break. A trembling hand came up to his mouth, he had waited so long for this, for their saviour to come. 

It was selfish really. He knew it was but he didn’t care, Gold would never care of such things like selfishness. Especially not when it came to you. 

Twenty eight long years had passed since he had held you, since he had felt your lips against his, since he had argued with you over nothing and everything, since he had held you tight. 

In another world you had been the one for him. The only one who looked beyond the monster, the legend of the Dark One, who saw more than a coward, more than a creature. You had only ever seen him, all the different parts of him, the parts that he loved and showed off and the parts that he loathed and tried to destroy, hide away from everyone. 

It had been so long. 

Now he was cursed to this life, to remember every detail of his love whilst she remained none the wiser. 

He was forced to steal glimpses, to watch as you eyed him with something he could never place, not mistrust, hell you might have been the only person in town to not fear him. No, you looked at him with something closer to curiosity. How many times had you stopped in his shop, Gold’s heart aching as you questioned all the relics and artefacts in there, aching as you laughed and beamed at his stories. How many times had he longed to tell you of your life, to pull you into his arms and hope to hell true love’s kiss worked. 

He never did it though. Instead he endured the ache in the heart most people believed he didn’t have. He let himself forget the tragedy for just a moment, let himself smile softly as your own smile lit up his dark shop, he indulged your questions and flourished his tales just to hear your laugh, he let himself remember what it was like to be this version of himself, no harsh words, no scathing remarks, even when the two of you argued, he let his sharp edges soften for you. 

Months had passed since Emma had arrived in Storybrooke and things had changed. Gold knew people had started remembering, just snippets of a life beyond their reach but it was enough, enough to give the man something he thought no longer existed. 

Hope. 

For the first time in a very long time Rumplestiltskin had hope. 

He never knew when you were going to waltz into his shop, it was usually a daily occurrence but never a set time, though it was rare the bell alerted him that anyone was coming to see him. So whenever the soft ringing went off, Gold couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat, something he cursed himself for but only half heartedly. 

“Gold!” You called into the shop, he could hear the bright smile in your voice before he even turned around. 

“Hello, my dear.” Gold murmured softly, unable to stop the smile that pulled at his lips.  

You were different in this world but you had managed to keep the very things that made you you. You were still too curious for your own good, often following danger without thinking about it. So overwhelmingly positive and optimistic, such a stark contrast to that man that loved you. At first he had found it sickening and then one day he found he couldn’t live without it. 

You were already wandering around his shop, fingers dancing over the trinkets, chatting away before you paused. 

Gold heard your sharp intake of breath, watched as your eyebrows knitted together before your eyes scrunched shut. 

“Are you alright, dearie?” He asked, stepping out from behind the counter and pausing when your head shot around to look at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. 

“What’s this one?” You asked the old familiar question softly, fingers closed around one of the many items in his shop. 

Gold frowned as he stepped closer, closing the space between the two of you and taking your hand in his, watching at how you seemed to become breathless with the contact. 

He let himself enjoy the contact as he gently opened your fingers and looked down, his hand holding yours and his own breath knocked out of him as he looked down at the object in your hand. 

It was a bracelet, one made of gold spun from straw. He remembered it well, remembered taking the time to sit and craft the bracelet, a golden heart resting in the middle. He remembered how nervous he had been to give you the gift, a strange feeling for him and yet one that was not needed, not when you opened it and your smile softened as you traced the gold, looking up at Rumple with watery eyes much like you were now, pulling him into a soft kiss and murmuring how it was the most precious thing anyone had ever given you. 

“It’s a bracelet, dear.” Gold told you softly, his own voice sounding far away, even as his lips tilted into a smirk. 

“You know what I mean, Gold.” You laugh, the sound light but half hearted. “Everything in here has a story.”

“Right it does and that bracelet is no different. In fact that bracelet is a symbol of the purest love. Each detail hand crafted for the man’s beloved.” Gold explained, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. 

You looked away from Gold, tracing the bracelet again and frowning down at it like it was a puzzle you couldn’t solve. 

“It’s mine.” You murmured, eyebrows drawing further together. 

Gold felt his heart pounding against his chest, praying to any force that would listen that you would remember, that this is what you needed to break the curse on you. He looked at you, desperately waiting, hoping that when you looked up again you’d truly recognise the man before you. 

Your heart was racing as your eyes fell shut. Memories assaulted your mind, a man, Mr Gold, except it wasn’t Mr Gold, handed you a green box, you pulled the bracelet out and pulled him close, another memory of the same man, arguing back and forth with you though despite the words there was a smile on both your faces. 

Memory after memory came to you until it was all too much and you gasped for air, reaching out and clutching the man before you, finally looking up at him, the tears that had been stinging your eyes finally pouring over and falling down your cheeks.

“Rumple,” You breathe out and Rumple laughs, he laughs in complete disbelief at hearing his name fall from your lips, forgetting what his true name had sounded like when you spoke it. “Rumple!”

You choked on a sob, throwing yourself at the man who caught you with ease, your arms around his neck as you buried your face in his chest. Rumple held you back just as tightly, like he was afraid you’d forget everything if he let go, his own eyes watery as he pressed his face against your hair. 

Oh how long had he dreamed for this moment.

“My love.” He murmured into your hair, watching as you pulled away, only far enough back to cup his cheeks, thumb brushing along his cheekbone as you brought your foreheads together. 

“I remember.” You told him softly, another sob leaving you. “Rumple, how could I ever forget you?”

“I thought you’d never remember.” He admitted, his arms holding you tight. “I’ve missed you 

so much.”

“I can’t imagine…” You trailed off, realising he had spent years remembering everything, years forced to watch you come to him every day and not remember. 

“None of that matters, dear.” Rumple assured, finally closing the distance between the two of you, his lips pressed against yours, desperate and full of longing, it had been nearly three decades since he had felt your lips against his and it took his breath away. 

You kissed him back, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and feeling more and more memories come to light. You kissed Rumple, pouring years and years worth of love into the kiss, knowing there was so much lost time to make up for. 

You were both breathless by the time you pulled away, foreheads resting against each other as you just held one another. Neither of you were ready to move away, not just yet, not until you knew it was real, knew it was permanent.

The thought of forgetting Rumple again, your hands tightened around his suit jacket just at the thought and he placed a soft kiss against your forehead, keeping his lips there for a long while. 

Eventually the two of you did pull away, Rumple took the gold bracelet off you and gently fastened it onto your wrist, staring down at it with a mix of emotions on his face. 

“Took you long enough to find the bloody thing.” He finally muttered, causing a grin to spread across your face. “Picked up every other damn thing in this shop before you picked the one thing that belongs to you.”

You laughed, bright and loud, the sound filling his dark shop and Rumple couldn’t help but smile before drawing you into another breathtaking kiss, the sound something he had missed dearly but now he had forever to hear it. It sounded like a pretty good deal to him.

Thank you for reading!

Rumplestiltskin Taglist /

New character - Rumple and other ouat characters are now on my form so feel free to add yourself to the taglist - link is in bio!

[v-writes]

Captured King snippet 3

Happy wip wednesday y'all

part 1 part 2 ao3

"Danny?" Batman asks Red Robin.

"Yup. Danny Phantom, he's using his alias as a last name."

~~~

Phantom tenses, fists tight where the cuffs connect them to the table.

Hood saunters in, turning his chair to sit backwards, "do you know who I am?"

Phantom deliberately loosens his posture, eyes taking the same vacant stare he has adopted at every other attempt to question.

"I'm the Red Hood, an Outcast operating out of Gotham."

No response from Phantom.

"Right. Fair. Ok, how about instead we start this conversation with someone you actually want to talk to?"

A slight twitch from Phantom, oh so momentarily tilting his head to the side questioningly as Red Hood pulls a communicator from a cargo pocket.

~~~

Batman narrows his eyes as he sees Oracle's symbol flash on the screen before Hood places the phone on the table. Phantom deliberately does not look at it, until the communicator clicks, indicating the call had connected and a young feminine voice warily speaks, "hello? Red Hood?"

~~~

Phantom's composure crumples, desperately snatching the communicator, crying out, "Ellie! Ellie is that you? Are you okay?"

"Danny! Yeah I'm" her voice cracks, and there is a wet quality to her voice when she continues, "I'm fine. Knew you'd get me out, even if you needed help."

"Hey." A second voice joins Ellie's on the call, "we need to wrap this up and get out of here."

"Right, are you two ready for a show?" Hood asks.

"Wait!" Ellie demands, "is everyone out?"

"All of ours are." Ellie's companion scoffs.

"Red! That's not all that matters, we're supposed to be better than that!"

Danny flinches in his seat.

"Oracle" Hood says, "what's the evacuation status?"

"Scans confirm what the Red Huntress said, all ghosts have been released, and the evacuation protocols we triggered have been followed, all 'employees' are accounted for outside of the facility."

"Red Huntress, Ellie, are you two a safe distance away?"

"Yes"

"Perfect. Ready whenever you are then."

~~~

Red Robin smiles, pressing a button on his wrist computer, the distinctive sound of an explosion comes over Red Hood's communicator while the Red Huntress and Ellie cheer.

"Red Robin."

"Batman."

Batman turns away from the observation window to look at Red Robin directly.

Red Robin's smile drops into a sneer, "have you even been in a GIW facility that wasn't sterilized before your arrival? Nobody was in it, I'm not sorry for destroying a building, and Ellie deserves the cheer."

Batman hadn't. He had wanted to. But when it came to prioritizing, the destructive force had ranked higher. And while the Justice League had been busy with Phantom, the rest of his team had inserted themselves. It shouldn't surprise Batman, and any shock was vastly outweighed by exasperation. Trusting others, relinquishing any ounce of control didn't come naturally to Bruce. 'Luckily' for him, he had somehow surrounded himself with hyper competent people who had no problem wresting control for themselves.

"Hn."

"Hn." Red Robin smirks, shaking his head as they turn back to face the interrogation room.

~~~

As their cheers dies down Red Huntress speaks resolutely, "Danny. We need to leave. I gave her a dose of ecto dejecto, and I'm taking her to Frostbite for a full check up. Any other update will wait until you're back with us in person. See you soon."

She hangs up before Danny can respond.

Danny stares at the communicator for a long desperate moment, before slowly looking up to Red Hood. "You helped her? The Red Huntress was with you?"

"Not initially, no. But she was the first person Ellie could name as an emergency contact. After you that is."

"And she's ok? You saw her, how is she- she's ok?"

Hood hesitates, speaking slowly, calming, "whatever the Red Huntress gave her helped, the 'ecto dejecto'? But she was in bad shape. Your Red seems confident she will be fine, but I don't know if that was sincere or for Ellie's benefit. And I would have no idea where to even begin with medical attention with her whole deal, and how 'ghost' biology works." As he speaks he opens the manila folder he had brought with him, sliding it over to Danny, who flips through the pages with shaking hands.

~~~

From the angle of the observation room Batman can't see what he is looking at, he turns slightly to Red Robin, who interrupts before Batman can ask.

"There's nothing in that file that isn't also in the upload from Oracle, if you want details you can read that, it's notes and pictures from a very relevant GIW experiment."

"Hn."

~~~

"Thank you. For getting her out."

"It was the right thing to do."

"I don't think the GIW would agree with you there."

"Good. From where I'm sitting, standing against them is the right side to fight for. If not for Ellie's insistence that 'we're supposed to be better than that' I can't say I would have stuck to your MO of clearing the building before destroying it."

"I can't say I would blame you. Or that I would have been able to stick to my MO if I arrived too late. But it's, it's important to me to be able to say we aren't the monsters they say we are. Thank you for that as well."

"You didn't see her when I first found her-" Danny glances quickly between a picture from the folder and Hood, raising an eyebrow, "I don't mean that. That that doesn't surprise you is its own kind of concerning. She was in a holding cell. She thought I was one of them and-"

"You don't like being seen as a monster."

Red Hood freezes for a moment. "Sometimes I do. But never by kids and not-" Hood laughs, interrupting himself before continuing, "gods, the change in her demeanor when I said your name and she thought you had sent me. That sister of yours has a lot of faith in you."

[felassan]

Some posts and snippets about and pictures taken at DA:TV@SDCC have started coming out on social media 🐺💜

At the DA:TV booth, one of the booth backgrounds is this key art and another is the cover of the upcoming art book [source/click here to see].

Another one of the backgrounds is the Veilguard logo, like here [source/click here to see].

In some clear casing at the booth, they have a copy of the upcoming art book (👀..) and a beauuutiful replica of the dagger [source/click here to see].

This tweet shows that the Romancer Pin that was said to be available at the booth is indeed the Romancer Pin from Sanshee [source/click here to see]. It's also available to buy from Sanshee here btw.

This tweet shows that the poster that was said to be available at the booth is this key art. It also shows that (as this tweet confirms) along with the Romancer Pin, pins of the 7 companions are also available at the booth, each in a different color [source/click here to see]. Here you can see for example that the Emmrich pin is green, and that the art used for the companion pins is the companion 'tarot-style' art. Apparently reps at the booth have mentioned that they doing a contest to see which companion pin runs out first [source]. Edit: Here you can see a photo of all 7 companion pins!

This tweet shows some of the backgrounds from another angle, and another look at the poster. [source]

Also in some clear casing at the booth or nearby is a beautiful, detailed statue of Neve Gallus (in full color, complete with her staff/wand and a base) [source/click here to see].

Here you can see some of the setup and space for the Fandom party that is happening later today. It looks like a big stage [source]

Some more details are spoilery or the source link also contains spoilery things, so I'm putting those ones under a cut. DA:TV spoilers below cut.

The upcoming art book was described by a booth rep as a love letter to the game [source]

A booth rep mentioned that the dagger is "safe from Solas" [source]

This tweet has pictures of the case with the art book and the dagger from different angles

This tweet has a picture of the Neve statue from a different angle. In this one you can see the label accompanying the statue. It states that the statue is "Coming soon!" and being that it has Dark Horse Direct's logo on it, I wonder if it's coming from Dark Horse. The label also advises that the statue is 1/6th scale. It also has a scannable QR code. (I wonder what that leads to?)

A booth rep described Solas as "the devil on your shoulder who's constantly trying to make you make bad decisions" [source]

[tiredtororo]

Stan Twins but Weirdmageddon started early because a certain someone found out his brother is practically homeless,jobless,hunted and have the very,VERY, terrible life out in the street.

—---------------------------

Snippets 3#

Stan: *safe and sound**literally NOT kidnapped by his own twin-* *bundled up with clean clothes and clean hair* Uh…. Ford?

Ford: Yes Stanley?

Stan: I appreciated ya finding me and all,but…

As he looked down,he could see every single person that hurt him in the past during his homeless era.

Everyone was tortured so badly-

Stan: Is that really necessary?

Ford: *click tongue* Tch,tch,tch. Little brother-

Stan:*cut* We're twins.

Ford:*ignore* I would not make a deal with a dream demon to start the apocalypse early just not to give you the justice you deserve.

Stan: Yeah,but this is too—

Ford: Hush now, this is my favourite moment.

And all Stan could do next is leaning against his brother,playing with a paddle ball while wearing soundproof headphones while the older one is enjoying the scream of the people who had dared to lay their dirty finger on his sweet little brother- (Stan:TWINS!) in full volume.

(Inspired by ‘This Is A Gift, It Comes With A Price’ by Ilentari!)

I really loves this type of Ford fr-

[ineffable-xenanigans]

A Mouthful of Blessings (4/6)

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, applying a minor miracle to both the oysters and the ox ribs so that they’d stay at a safe temperature for an indefinite amount of time. This might take a while, after all, and it would be unbecoming to let their lovely dinner spoil in the interim.

Continue reading Chapter 4: Flood on AO3!

Also: I'M A DEMON, I LIED. This chapter was supposed to go up tomorrow, but I finished the illustration and couldn't help myself. Also yayyyyyyy we finally got to have some proper smut 😈

Speaking of illustrations and smut, you'll encounter the full NSFW image as you read on AO3, hehehe. But here's another snippet, as a treat.

Vintage underwear inspo a bit later, just click on Keep reading :D

If you haven't come across this fic before, you could also just start reading A Mouthful of Blessings from the beginning...

Rating: E Length: 6 chapters (8k words) Summary:

This story starts, as it will end, with a prayer. In Chapter 1, we learn that angels can hear the prayers that name them. In Chapter 6, Crowley uses this knowledge for good and evil; in other words, so he can dirty-talk Aziraphale while his mouth is otherwise occupied. What happens in between? A whole lot of things, actually, including but not limited to: love confessions, crying, laughing, suggestive oyster shucking, and a flood.

The remaining chapters will be released tomorrow and the day after tomorrow!

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added!)

@snognes @naturallyteal @eybefioro @ineffablyruined @ineffably-queer-book-lover

🎨 only: @good-omens-gallery

🌶 only: @goodomensafterdark

As I mentioned in this post, I had a hard time deciding what kind of undergarments I wanted to put Aziraphale in. After some discussions on Tumblr and Discord, I ended up going with a style that was apparently popular between the 1930s and 50s (actual fashion historians, please correct me if I'm wrong).

Source: vintagedancer.com/1930s/1930s-mens-underwear-history

Source: vintagedancer.com/1940s/1940s-mens-underwear

Source: vintagedancer.com/1950s/1950s-mens-underwear-history

Those aren't the only images I looked at, but I think those sources are quite nice because they show you a lot of the variety going on back then.

I just liked the details of the curved waist on the front and the snaps on the back :3 oh, and there's supposed to be a couple of seams back there, but I didn't draw them because I was too lazy *coughs* I couldn't get them to look nice in this particular pose *chokes* I made the deliberate artistic choice to keep his undies simple to match the tablecloth, of course.