#some coin so he can travel like he always planned

[thescreaminghat]

Thresh, writing in his journal: I still firmly believe that most of my troubles would be solved if I could only win over a rich widow who was a little closer to death than anticipated.

Viego: *arrives on the Blessed Isles*

Thresh: *scratches out “widow” and writes “widower”*

[fatescaprice]

hiiiii ☀️ can i ask for something about aventurine and the reader who is part of the express family (not trailblazer) ? it can be some love at first sight thing, or maybe where they meet again in penacony and turns out they both had some hidden past with eachother b4🤭 of course, you can choose whatever storyline to go with as well with this reader🤍 thank uuuu

aventurine and a nameless reader

content warnings: vague penacony spoilers

note: hello anon!! i went with the second option since i just looove reunions ... i had a lot of fun writing this but i also had to google how a lottery works ... i'm embarrassed ... i hope you enjoy!

You and AVENTURINE had met ages before he became a bigshot at the IPC, back when he was doing Aeons-know-what to scrape by. Whether you were friends or rivals or had to use every fibre in your body to keep yourself from insulting him on sight, you eventually parted ways and both, quite reasonably, assumed that you would never see each other again — the universe was far too big for that, after all. He saw you off as you boarded the Astral Express, and resigned himself to thinking that your meeting was little more than a lucky draw.

That is, of course, until you run into each other by chance in the lobby of the Reverie. He doesn’t pay you much attention at first, but his eyes end up wandering to you almost against his will as he sorts out your grey friend’s room issue. When did you change your hair? Did your voice always have that kind of cadence? His customer-service smile turns a tad more genuine as he turns to you once it’s over and your friends had dispersed within the lobby. “What a pleasant surprise,” he drawls. “Long time no see, huh?”

Aventurine offers to catch up over drinks, if you’re so inclined. Time is money, but that’s how you normally celebrate making new friends and reuniting with old ones, isn’t it? He’ll treat you to whatever you like while you tell him about your travels.

Even after he gets his own business sorted, he can’t help but notice how you two seem to keep running into each other, as if by little twists of fate. Your room across from his, the sound of you laughing with your pink-haired friend in the lobby, the sight of your back as you wander around the Golden Hour.

If fate keeps bringing you together, Aventurine would be a fool to not capitalise on it, wouldn’t he? He’s quick to slink over to your side and suggest a wager: “You look lonely,” he’ll say, rolling a coin back and forth over his knuckles. “Say, if I win big at the lottery over there, how about we spend the rest of the day together? We can even call it a date if you like.”

It’s a bit of an unfair bet, all things considered — he doesn’t often make bets he can’t win, and while it’s little surprise to him as he claims his prize, he also takes the time to relish in your surprised expression. What, did you really think he would lose? Don’t be silly. Now, tell him what you want to do — he’s already planning an itinerary in his head before work inevitably drags him away that evening.

Even as you two spark up another conversation (What’ve you been up to all this time? Got any travel destinations he might like?) he can’t tell you the whole truth, not yet — but in the meantime he can wrap one arm around your waist just like this, and watch how the dreamscape tints your eyes a shade of the most opulent gold.

[yanderecandystore]

I love the yandere monster story, can I make a wish for some yandere monster boy naga who is looking for a mate to carry his eggs and live the rest of his life together forever?

I don't condone yandere shit irl, but if you bang a naga man someday I'll give you a pass and a cookie, you mad lad. Not proofread enough lmao, also sorry but I really don't know how to type s e x.

Tw/Tags: straight up NSFW/+18 scene (written by someone who struggles to imagine sex- So we don't guarantee quality) // not very descriptive genitals, if at all // the usual yandereness + breeding kink; possessive behavior; manipulation; suffocation; implied oviposition but not really cause I'm dumb // you're a literal desert mailman💀 I'm sorry // brief mentions of troubled family life/past trauma // language barrier // self-conscious reader // willing yet slightly scared reader.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Writing in the sand [Yandere!Male!Naga x AFAB!Messenger!Reader - One shot]

Being a messenger was actually a lot more dangerous than it seemed at first, how many times have you and your camel met with bandits, scammers, difficult terrain, awful weather, people who would tell you the wrong direction for shits and giggles?? MANY times, but did you ever consider quitting and going back to the tea shop of your very judgmental parents or worse- To accept the offer of personal servant to that weird queen from the faraway lands who wouldn't shut up about how much better her kingdom was?? NO!

I mean a little bit. Just a little bit. Occasionally, I mean her kingdom was really pretty, though constant snow sounds like a pain in the ass, and giving up the freedom you currently have for either a strict monarch or your family was NOT something you were planning to do, ever!

The first time you got off the borders to send messages for far away people was the day you truly felt alive for once! The desert itself was your greatest rival and yet you faced it head down after that day- Sure, you were unprepared at first and there's still plenty to learn out there but it was EXCITING!!

You fought (ran away as quickly as you could) many groups trying to get a coin out of your body, or your life! Or your camel!! King Mustard wasn't the same after the "giant scorpion with that group of thieves" incident that happened, the worst part is that it happened twice though the people were different at least. Your personal theory is that the scorpion WAS the same from before, and that it has been following you through your journeys and it probably was looking for revenge!!

You told that story to so many people that now it's hard to go someplace without repeating yourself, it's weird how even though you're never at one place for too long, most people know you! You're, humbly speaking, sort of a big deal in the great drylands- Not known for your bravery but mostly for your constant running mouth and your adapted technique in how to extract cactus juice safely from a cactus with 70% success of no cactus drunkenness! (100% Needle-safe not included).

Stopping in a town was obviously the safest place for you and your camel, but was also probably one of the most rewarding parts of your trips, of course because you always need to have plenty of resources out there in the sand but also because… Well, as much as you loved every second of exploration and travel, you were admittedly a very lonely person.

It's not something you like to tell others, as you have already experienced people doubting your capability of being a messenger if you get so "emotional" over being far away from people ("I told you so!" Yeah, thanks mum.). It was a time you could feel at least safe and… Sometimes welcomed.

But it wasn't always a lonely trip, after all, King Mustard was here! Him with his big personality was always the heart of the party! Everyday was fun with him, even if he couldn't speak to you… However, that doesn't mean you haven't found great comfort in your travels, you probably haven't noticed this yourself yet, but [y/n]...

You are a very dear person.

Every person you've helped along the way in your trips, just by coincidence finding them, and landing them a hand in the hot and harsh reality of the desert thinks of you dearly. You have friends! It's just that you don't see them very often… If at all. The desert has a funny way of getting people closer, people who struggle to survive in its environment, and yet it also drifts them away- The wind blows in every direction separating every small particle of sand, and maybe one day they'll meet again, or maybe not. Cruel was it, with its breathtaking beauty and extremely cold personality for someone so hot and merciless.

You often associate the desert with its forgotten god. You tend to talk about it as a person rather than just an environment of harsh conditions, you always remember to talk to it, hoping it would listen in a way. You were pretty much by yourself out there, but thinking that someone was listening to your travels made you feel safer, perhaps not as tormented as the blazing Sun would leave you to believe. You were being watched, and protected, you just knew it!

The proof of it came from one of the greatest encounters you ever had during your travels.

It was really hot that day, King Mustard seemed really tired and you were melting under the blazing heat- You two needed shelter and fast! And suddenly, as if the gods listened to your prayers!-(But quickly threw you two middle fingers)- An immense sandstorm was approaching!! For someone as cautious as you, you couldn't understand where the hell it came from!! It was so sudden and just- There was no indication of it!! At all!!

You got knocked out, and when you woke up- You were… Somewhere strange, like an underground oasis of sorts, hidden in the desert there was a cave of luscious greenery and drinkable water, it was magical how big the place was!! You thought you had died and went straight to Paradise!!

At least, you thought so when you saw a very large and handsome man staring back at you, smiling gently. He had tanned skin and a REALLY long, almost platinum hair! He looked so gorgeous with his green cat eyes that you almost forgot to breathe!

You asked the man if he was an angel, and he responded to you in a language you didn't understand. You were 100% certain that the man was really an angel and yet when he revealed the lower part of his body your face dropped immediately, terror slightly setting in. He was half snake, half a giant snake at that! His tail seemed endless, those dark scales were so pretty yet so terrifying! The gold markings seemed very regal and holy in nature but the endless darkness almost seemed to eat it all up! Like a demon!

You freaked out at first, but when you looked at his eyes, his gentle face- His expression of concern, those big bright eyes, you noticed he really didn't seem to have any ill intent towards you, perhaps you were misjudging him for something he was not. After breathing in and out, you calmed down, never taking your eyes from him, you felt comforted as you realized this creature was the one who saved you out there! And who saved your camel!! He was still really scared of your snake buddy, but you made sure to soothe him.

Long story short, you became friends with a human-snake guy who seemed genuinely very cool! It's a shame you didn't understand a word he said… You suspect that maybe he speaks in a very ancient language and perhaps this means he was REALLY old!! And yet, he seemed just about your age, and you got to hangout with him during your free time.

Poor thing, he seemed trapped down here (though to be fair, it is a fabulous prison to be in-) and he really wanted to catch up with times! So you made it your duty to help him understand the new world, you have no idea why he is here and how long did he live here separated from the rest of the world, but now that you knew how to get there and how to get out- You made it your mission to teach him everything you knew about the modern world.

And although the language barrier was massive, you two somehow got to learn something very special about each other- He shared with you his name, "Rakaski", and you got to teach him yours.

~"[y/n]"~ His accent was heavy, and yet you felt something flutter inside you whenever you heard him call your name. You remember him repeating your name over and over again as if he wanted to memorize how to say it.

After hearing his name, you made sure to research it, trying to find something that could lead you to know what language he was talking in- But no books nor people seemed to know how to speak it, except for one book you found, a fairytale book that was so old that it was a nightmare trying to understand the vernacular! But it didn't seem like a very "old" old kind of book, it was probably made after the language had changed, there were a lot of words that you didn't recognize.

The book never explained the name's meaning really, but it was always used as a common word- And given the context of the story you read, it seemed to mean either "falling" or "god"? Well, you're not very sure, since the book was confusing as hell, and your interpretation of the story was very mixed- Was it about a desert deity or a man that kept tripping over in the sand?! Seriously, why did it have to be so confusing!?

In the end, you still didn't understand the book and neither did you find out anything about Rakaski's name. At least you know it was older than your home kingdom, which was pretty cool.

Either way, the lack of communication never stopped you from coming down that hidden paradise to talk to your best friend every opportunity you could! King Mustard can be very squeamish whenever you guys try to get down there, he really disliked going there and you assumed it was because he was claustrophobic, which you already knew he was. So, today you'll leave him in the shade and get down by yourself, you don't want to stress the poor thing.

"M-Mustard! King Mustard Junior The Third, stop pushing me around!! You know you're a lot heavier than me! Seriously, this isn't funny!!" Ah, King Mustard, for a camel you're really just a scaredy cat! You push him away gently as you can, he keeps positioning himself in front of the hole you want to jump in.

"Hey stop!! If you don't want to come then fine, but let me get in! Please! I'll be back soon!" The massive animal was starting to get a little too agitated, and you knew better than to try to force your way.

"Mustard, seriously you're starting to scare me, you know I'll be back soon, please let me get down." You don't know if it was the deep magical connection of friendship that made him understand you and realize that he scared you, or if he suddenly felt disinterested in playing with you right now.

Taking by how the camel sassily walked away you're starting to think it was the second option- Of was he genuinely insulted by your stubbornness? Who knows.

"Sigh… You always get like this when we pass by." Though you can't really blame him, you know he still distrusts Rakaski, but come on it's been a year! And Rakaski has never hurt any of you two! Sure, he was a bit intimidating at first but he had a good heart, you just knew that.

Compared to the men back in your hometown? Rakaski was a saint, you were sure of it.

You had slid through the sandy hole and into the luscious underground with ease, you started to call for him, but before you could even yell out "Ra" you saw him not so far away, seemingly very occupied.

"Awn, guess you're decorating! Have I come at a bad time?" You walked to him and joked despite being aware he wouldn't understand you.

The way his face lit up and turned to face you was just so precious, he seemed very excited!

~"[y/n]!! [y/n]!! It's really good to see you again!! I was already worried you would never come."~ He talked just like you, committing the same mistake of talking as if the other would understand- You had no clue what he said, but as he coiled around you and his arms squeezed you oh so dearly you understood exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, yeah- Missed you too-" You never knew how to deal with anything social, period, and being flustered at someone who wasn't even human was not a first but it never got easier. But with him, at least, you feel like you don't need to pretend that you don't feel slightly flustered by his attention. Gods know you're a very easy target for large and very well built men.

After he let you go, you realized he was just building a new nest for him, so you decided to help him as well. It was already pretty much done when you got in, but you felt like he deserved a "fancy" bed so you helped him decorate with flowers and some of the trinkets you bought for him, he just loved human trinkets!

And by the gods, you knew you were currently in Spring, but these flowers?! They were just so damn pretty, it's a real shame that your traveling is mostly done in sand, occasionally though you have to go to the East to deliver important letters and gifts and you just kinda love that place! Every time you go, they're experiencing a different season, and it all changes so much, it's beautiful!!

"Oooh!! Maybe I should bring you flowers from one of the neighboring kingdoms, it'll be a way to show you the world since you can't leave…" You think out loud, and of course, he looks at you a little confused- And yet he repeats the word you said.

"Flowers?" He repeats it as if he didn't understand what you said, yet liked how you said it.

"Yes! Flowers!-" You say pointing to the flowers in his nest and surrounding you two, he quickly understands it, it seems.

~"Oh! Flowers! Oh, that's what it's called to you? Great heaven's, humans are always changing, aren't they?"~ He starts to laugh, you… Sort of don't understand the joke, but perhaps "flowers" just sounds funny to him.

He patted your head as he laughed, as if trying to congratulate you on making him laugh (I mean, getting this man to laugh was a challenge, you bet even without the language barrier).....

Although, it felt more like a "reward" sort of situation… As if he was rewarding you for… Being so entertaining, you suppose! Still, that's probably just all in your head, besides you know well when someone is being condescending to you, you're sure of it! Years inside your family's house has made you a pro in spotting bad apples from far away. I mean, you like to think you do, to be fair Rakaski was a little difficult to read, and sometimes he did things that you probably weren't sure of what they meant.

But then again, he was a very old half snake dude trapped inside a cave somewhere along the rock formations spread all over an unforgiving desert, his social life was probably a lot worse than yours, and who's to say that his antics aren't based on his own culture? Perhaps snake people like to coil around each other to show affection, even if it's really hard to breathe like this.

Things weren't so complicated between you two, however, as you guys have invented a form of simple and more direct communication through pointing to objects and scribbling on paper. You had thought about using sign language, so you learned a couple of words and tried to use with him-

"So- This means that- Hm..?"

But before you could teach him he already was talking to you through hand signs you didn't understand, he was very well adapted and you only knew a few like "hello", "you", "me" and "see you soon"- Which would be the most used one for you two.

"Huh, you always impress me, maybe you should be the one teaching me-" You bowed down, genuinely impressed with what you saw, and he seemed very content with himself as he smugly pretended to wave and throw kisses to a nonexistent audience. His ego was always a bit inflated, wasn't it?

You decided to cut your visit short and return back to King Mustard as you didn't want to leave him waiting for too long. It's funny how neither him nor Rakaski liked each other despite sharing a diva personality. As you waved your goodbye, Rakaski decided to give you one last big hug.

A hug that didn't seem to end at all. His body wrapping around you and leaving you to feel surrounded by darkness. This usually happened so it didn't come as any surprise. You tried to tickle him as that usually worked.

"Come on now, you know I'll be back soon!" You laughed as you tried to provoke him, his belly was so sensitive that you could see him contracting and trying to avoid giggling.

But he didn't let you go. Your attempt only made him restrict you further, the snake body trapping your hands with its weight.

You were well aware of Rakaski's animalistic tendencies, for example he was cold blooded and constantly held you to try to gain some height, like he is doing now.

You know that when he yawns his jaw unhinges and opens so inhumanly wide that you have to close your eyes so you won't have any more nightmares about it.

You know he is nocturnal so he is constantly feeling a little too sleepy whenever you two hangout, as you often come to see him during the day (which was something you did for safety, though you sometimes worry he is having trouble sleeping because of you-).

And you also know that snakes tend to suffocate their prey with their body before eating them whole.

While trying not to judge him as a human eating monster you still feel very, very terrified of the slight chance he might be hungry and has forgotten you're not food. The more you struggle the tighter it gets, and it doesn't help that his skin is so cold, it makes your nerves flare up as you can hear him growling with what you hope is not hunger.

"RAKASKI-!!" You yell, you couldn't help it, you were starting to feel dazed. While closing your eyes you felt his lower body shift and relax, you felt arms hugging you a lot more gently than the suffocating sensation from before. If it wasn't for his lazy eyes and the internal chuckling you can feel in his chest you would say he was actually hungry for you. He was just trying to scare you.

"Sigh, you'll be the death of me- Seriously you scared me to death!" You tried to push him off you, but he basically threw his entire body weight on you as you fell to the ground with your back on the soft yet not very ideally comfortable grass.

"Shhhh~!" He nuzzles on you while hugging your stomach. Normally he would have let you go now after petting your head or pretending to bite your neck just for funsies- But today he is very much not letting you go, at all.

Okay, you really didn't want to address the situation, you weren't planning on ever talking about it of course but- By the gods, you knew better than to assume his playful smile was just his usual silly self.

Oh, who were you kidding, you knew it from the moment you came in and saw the nest he was making, it's not like you haven't noticed his chest rising and falling as if he was struggling to breathe just by talking with you. You wanted to leave because you noticed that perhaps you took the wrong month to visit him.

It was mating season, wasn't it? Why now? Why today?! And why WERE YOU ACTUALLY CONSIDERING IT?!!!

"Okay I think I need to think about this a little more- I mean you're clearly not thinking straight right, I'm not even a snake lady, man!" You try to push him off you as you avoid eye contact, the worst part is that he was fairly attractive for someone's who's lower body was just one huge snake tail.

He wouldn't budge, he only shifted his head to look at your face, even if you were avoiding him you could feel his smirk creeping around the corner of your vision, you wouldn't be surprised if he knew what you also knew.

I mean, it wasn't a secret you liked him was it? You thought you didn't mind him noticing this but this sudden desire just feels like it's happening all too fast and you're worried it might be just a one time thing, that he is acting like this out of instinct not out of actual desire towards you. And well you never really did this before, I mean not with someone like him, at all! But you had experiences with people before.

Bad experiences. The ones that would leave someone worried for years that they're not good enough to anyone. Were you being cautious or were you just being self-conscious? Were you scared of him not liking you when this high of his diminished? Maybe you just weren't sure if this was a good idea.

"I don't know if I'm really ready for this." You confess, looking back at him- Hoping to find your answer.

And he looked back at you with a sad expression, did he understand what you said? Did he understand what you meant at least? He looked so concerned and genuinely "awake" despite his current very urgent instincts. He held your hand and kissed it for reassurance, you didn't notice you were crying until your vision was blurry and your chest was aching.

"Sorry.." You tried to wipe them yourself, you don't know why you're apologizing. Rakaski didn't seem to take it well, he was about to say something before shaking his head vigorously and wiping your tears himself. He came closer to look you in the eyes, stop staring elsewhere, you won't find comfort anywhere else but those eyes.

He decides to come off of you and give you some space despite his initial reluctance, the gentle and almost warm presence of reassurance leaving with him- And before he could give you space you decided to make the first move yourself.

You kissed him, hoping perhaps he would understand the gesture, and he did! He hugged you and kissed you back returning your neediness… Though coming in with a lot more desperation than you thought. Not seconds after forcing his tongue in despite your unisseanes.

I mean, it 's good! He isn't being horrific at it is just that you have underestimated how badly he seemed to want this. And although you're just as interested in this as he is, you're worried you may not hold to the same durability as he has.

Today was the day. Today had to be day, and he wouldn't have it any other way. To wait longer would be torture and you best believe this man was patient. He wasn't expecting you to almost reject him at first of course, oh you almost gave the immortal a heart attack!

He shouldn't have been so pushy, he knows that, but having your soft lips on his was so worth it that he couldn't help himself as he pinned you down again, ah… It's a shame the nest is so far away, this is not a very classy way to do things.

Then again, ripping off your clothes with no regards was probably not very refined either, humans needed a lot more courting than he was aware of- But it was fine! You were doing just great, you were being so good to him, he wishes he could praise you in your own language so you could understand him.

~"You're so lovely for something so fragile, thank you for accepting me- You have no idea how long I've spent being trapped here knowing damn well there's not a single other like me out there."~ He would praise you in his own tongue in frantic breaths while kissing your neck and nibbling in your ear, while his lower body made sure to lock you in place, you were a little scared, weren't you?

~"I'm genuinely sorry for having to put you in this position but I can't take it anymore- But I know you want this as well, I know you do!"~ He usually was very talkative, but there was something in his voice that sounded shaky, desperate, and his hands were too confused on where and what to grab that you noticed he seemed just as inexperienced as you were.

Well, at least you thought so before he spread your legs and started to rock back and forth in your lower region- It's not exactly that he is inexperienced, but he is very much off his mind right now- His movements aren't uncertain, they're just frantic for any release. Not that he won't tend to you as well, he just really needs this right now. But you'll understand, you always do. You always treat him so well, despite the monster he has become.

~"It'll hurt, and I'm not sure if it's only a little. I promise to make it worth it later to you."~

You were struggling to keep up with his weird and off putting rhythm- He was just so ready for this, it's been on his mind ever since he found you unconscious inside his natural prison, but he knew better than to be selfish to someone he'll have to share a nest with.

~"It'll be great don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be well taken care of. It'll be incredible, my treasure."~

You shivered when he went from humping your lower region to undressing kissing it almost as passionately as he did your mouth- He should probably move a little slower considering he changes activities way too quickly but hey it felt better than the awkward dry humping.

It wasn't bad, but it lacked a bit of finesse- Not like his careful and calculated attention to your privates right now-

"Humans need a lot more work than I remember, but does that mean we can make it last longer? Would you want that, treasure? [y/n]?" Rakaski was playing with it almost as if he never looked at something like a naked human before, but it was a lie- He was absolutely just trying to tease you with every poke and flick.

He ran his finger down slowly before reaching an opening and pulling it inside, at least one to feel you inside. It's lovely that you arch your back to the littlest of things, and although he doesn't understand your words, moans are hardly hard to misinterpret.

"Slower then? I guess I was being too unprepared, I'll be honest that it's more fun than I expected. If this is the work I have to do every time then I'll gladly accept." Human courting was fascinating to him, though now he understands why, he can't just expect you to take it all in with a little help- And helping someone never tasted so sweet.

You were feeling embarrassed by his stare as he licked you out and further tried to spread you- Trying to ease the inevitable soreness that would come but damn, did he have to look at you like that?! It made you feel a little dirty, a little too embarrassed to entertain his idea, for someone who seemed so eager to shove it in without any foreplay he was really taking his time now!

You grabbed his hair carefully, you didn't really notice what you were doing and to be honest you weren't sure how to continue with this but Rakaski looked at you in awe… His smugness was replaced with a look of pure adoration- His pupils wide and round as he expects you to guide him.

It gave you a bit more confidence knowing he trusted you to hold his head and sort of help him find the right pacing.

You don't remember for how long it went, you just remember that it ended with you on top of him, going at your own pace. He held your hips not stopping you to go as fast or as slow as you wanted but rather because he felt very uncomfortable NOT holding every centimeter of you. He needed to grab into something and your sweet flesh was exactly that.

You woke up in his nest, feeling a little disoriented, memories of what happened a little foggy, but you were sure it wasn't a dream considering the soreness in your thighs- It was hard moving.

You sighed, feeling weirdly satisfied- Well, that's not the right word, more like… Well, genuinely happy.

You tried around, and you saw Rakaski curled up into a ball, sleeping so peacefully and yet with that little mischievous smirk in his face you just knew he was dreaming about it.

You turned your body to face him, deciding to close your eyes and sleep a little more.

Until you remembered you left your camel outside.

"HOLY GODS, KING MUSTARD!!" You jumped up, trying to run as quickly as you could towards the entrance- But you couldn't even leave the nest when Rakaski wrapped his tail on you and pulled you closer.

"WAIT! It 's my camel!! I forgot I left him-"

"Stay." He said in a very half awake voice.

"You can talk…?"

"Stay." Rakaski wrapped himself around you, as he buried his face in your neck. You weren't sure if he was understanding what you said, or if he only understood the meaning of that one word.

"Rakaski, I'm just going to check on him, I'll be back soon, I promise-" You pushed his chest away. You shouldn't have done that.

Rakaski tightened his grip around your body.

"Stay. [y/n]. You're not supposed to walk so soon. Stay still, no mother should walk so early after mating…" He still sounds so sleepy, so innocent, but his half opened gaze was not… friendly.

"Rak- AH!-" Tighter, and tighter, and more tighter. He knows damn well that whenever you get to that camel you're leaving him for gods know how long, but as he stated before, soon to be mothers shouldn't walk around in the dead of night especially since he knows humans don't deal well with the coldness of the desert during this hour.

It's better to stay here and let him take care of you while you're now waiting for his kids, even if you aren't aware of it. He isn't sure how long hybrids take to be born, but he wasn't to be there for you every step of the way.

"Shhhh…. Go back to sleep, stop struggling, it is not good for you…" He kissed you goodnight as he suffocated you back to sleep.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[megamindsecretlair]

Ur MM fic was soooo good!!! Pls write more of him I beg😭🫶🏾

A/N: no need to beg, you know I got you anon! Make sure to show some love to @planetblaque and @soft-persephone for their MM fics!

Leaving Me Sleepless

Pairing: Neighbor!Mother's Milk x Neighbor!Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Age gap, more so late 20s/early 30s, but can be read however. Dom Mother's Milk, Cursing, PIV, SMUT, FLUFF, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and female receiving), D/s elements, Sorry if I missed others. Season 1 MM, no spoilers for the show. Divorced MM. Brat reader. Corruption kink if you squint. Possession Kink. Size kink.

Summary: You were ready to start a new chapter of your life, moving into your first house all by your lonesome. Done with waiting on others to get their lives together, you were finally pursuing the life you wanted. You had everything planned, until you didn’t. 

Marvin comes to your rescue, turning a stressful day into something sweet and full of laughs. An easy friendship builds between you. Only you can’t wait any longer to see if this is one sided. You decide to start toying with Marvin, just to see how long it would take him to break.

AO3 Link

Word count: 10,515k

A/N: I don't know what it is about this man. But enjoy my brainrot! Love him dowwwnnn. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

It wasn’t your intention to toy with your hot neighbor, Marvin. When you moved in, you were prepared to do it all yourself. You got a moving company to help you pack up your shit from your ex-boyfriend’s house. You successfully transferred your utilities to your new place, leaving that broke motherfucker with no power for a weekend. You were on top of it. 

Okay, so not everything was so smooth. You got a flat tire on the freeway, the moving van wrote down your address wrong, and when you arrived at your new place, no moving truck to be found, you had a breakdown about it. To be fair, it was a hard and emotional day. This was the first time you bought a house, did it by yourself, and you were nervous as hell.

Your family wasn’t the most supportive. They kept asking you if you were sure you were ready and what were you going to do with that big house to yourself? As if finally having some alone time and gaining safety for the first time in your life was a bad thing. So not having the moving truck at your new place was like an ill omen. 

You started to doubt yourself. What would you do with a house to yourself? You were responsible for everything now. It was on you to take the trash out, keep up with the lawn and maintenance, cook meals, wash your sheets. The pressure of your decision crushed you to pieces until the dam broke and the tears were falling like crazy.

You hadn’t called the moving truck just yet. You needed time to break down before you pulled yourself together. You were a strong, independent woman and you were going to be okay. Like you always were. 

Marvin was just getting home from wherever he spent his time and saw you in front of your new place, standing on the curb and trying hard to hide your crying. You only had a few bags in your car, essential things you knew you didn’t trust with the movers. Smart thinking, but it wasn’t a bed. It wasn’t cookware. It wasn’t anything you needed to have a successful first day in your new place. The sun was losing its heat, traveling across the sky like the moon was on its heels. 

Marvin called out to you, walking up like he would single-handedly solve all of your problems. He wore a white T-shirt with the Wu Tang symbol on it. Medium wash jeans and white sneakers. He wore a gold chain as well, complimenting the golden hue of his skin. 

He also had a thick beard on his beautiful face. Neat and well-trimmed. But his eyes were the kindest you’d ever seen. In just a few minutes, it’d be easy to fall into the brown depths and never come up for air. 

You swiped at your eyes and smiled at him. “I’m okay, I’m fine!” You said, waving him off. Why was it that fine ass men always popped out when you looked like hell? You were currently wearing raggedy blue sweats with mysterious stains all over, some from bleach, paint, or whatever other dirty job needed done. Your lavender shirt had seen better days, the graphic on it cracked and nearly faded away. Your tennis shoes were peeling in one corner, but these were your most comfortable and didn’t want to give them up.

And ugh, your hair. You looked tore up from the floor up and you did not need your neighbor meeting you like this. Why couldn’t he catch you on your way out to the club or out to eat with your friends? You had a new, gorgeous leopard print dress in your moving van, with sexy three hoop gold earrings that were calling your name. Fuck me heels that made your ass look amazing. Why couldn’t he meet you then?

“Is everything alright? Are you sure?” He asked. 

God, that voice. You smiled and nodded, clutching your phone for dear life. He needed to move away, now. You wish the neighbors were out when you were scoping the house. If you knew he looked like that, you would have never shown up like this. The embarrassment was killing you. 

“I’m okay, Mr…?” You asked.

He smiled. “Call me Marvin, please,” he said. 

You introduced yourself. Sexy name matching a sexy man. He was so damn broad and thick. Just how you liked ‘em. But no, no, you promised yourself to focus on you right now. On getting this house set up exactly how you liked it. You weren’t going to have a traditional housewarming party. You weren’t going to invite all that negative energy into your new place. This new period in your life was about you, getting your mental stronger, your life together. Focus on your goals and finally getting started on your lifelong dreams. Nowhere in that plan you dreamt up with your best friend did it include a man. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?” He asked. He sounded and looked so sincere, that your shoulders slumped and you sighed, looking down the street like it would magically conjure the moving truck. 

“It’s silly,” you said and rolled your eyes, waving away his concern. 

Marvin smiled and tilted his head. “Try me. You’d be doing me a favor actually. I only had plans to go inside, grab a beer, and pig out. You’d be saving me from getting fat and lazy,” he said, patting his stomach. That smile.

You couldn’t help but giggle, checking him out. And letting him know that you were checking him out. “There’s no chance in hell you’d end up fat and lazy,” you told him. He chuckled and rubbed his beard, his thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. 

“You never know. These things add up. And you’re changing the subject,” he said. 

You sighed and suppressed a smile. Fine. Fine. You broke down and told him the whole ordeal. That you were moving in and waiting for your truck. Marvin cursed softly, excusing his words, and asked for the number to the movers. 

He used his own phone to call them, getting in their asses about taking advantage of you. They knew exactly where your house was and if they weren’t here in thirty minutes, giving you a steep discount for their actions, then he’d report they ass on their website, on social media, and anyone else who’d listen. 

Your mouth dropped listening to him. He was in complete control, not taking an ounce of slack from the movers. All of your interactions with them had been cordial, but there were enough times where you thought you were on them too much. You were trying to escape your ex’s house before he came home. You felt like a screaming harpy, telling them to move their ass. 

A little bass from a man and suddenly they could hop to. Fucking pigs. When Marvin was done, he smiled. “There, they’ll haul ass now. I’m sorry they did that to you,” he said.

You waved him off. “No way, you’re my hero. I would’ve been arguing for an hour to get them to show up with enough daylight to put things where I need,” you said. The relief you felt was almost indescribable. All thanks to a friendly neighbor. With no wedding ring, you might’ve observed.

“You wanna come inside and wait? I mostly have beer, but maybe some juice? Water?” He asked.

You bit your lip, feeling awkward and gross but he was just so helpful. You didn’t want to give that up just yet. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a bother?” You asked.

“I promise,” he said. 

You nodded. Well, fuck it. You followed him to his place, stepping inside his place hoping for the best. You were blown away actually. His place smelled amazing, light like lemon and something breezy or tropical. 

The place was spotless, not a cushion out of place. His living room was nice and spacious, with a thick rug underneath the couch and coffee table. You sat down while Marvin went to grab you some water. 

Marvin asked you questions about yourself and you asked him questions about him. You found out he was divorced, amicably, and they shared a beautiful daughter together. He worked with inner city youth at a detention center, keeping knuckleheads from making dumb ass mistakes. 

The more he talked, the more you started to see a clearer picture of him. He paid extra care to cleanliness letting you know that he’d never, ever tolerate being in your place. You weren’t a slob, but you weren’t Johnny on the spot either. Sometimes dishes piled up or you lounged in bed all day. You could already see and hear the arguments, the disgusted looks, the pot shots. 

You subtly sighed. Too bad. He’d make someone a fine ass husband one day. While you talked, the moving van showed up in record time. You tried saying bye to Marvin, but he insisted on staying to make sure the movers didn’t try to get over on you again.

Thanks to Marvin, the movers moved the heavy shit where it needed to go and brought your boxes to the rooms they were assigned to. You had more than enough time to unpack what you needed tonight, clean out the bathtub and kitchen, so that you could bathe in your new place and cook in your new place. 

You offered to cook something for Marvin, but he excused himself, saying he took up enough of your time. He hoped you had a good night and now that you were neighbors, he told you not to be a stranger. He was like a buff fairy godmother and you couldn’t stop thanking him as he left.

“No thanks, necessary. I’m just glad I was around. Did you get a chance to change the locks yet?” He asked.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought to do so. “If you buy some new locks, I can install them for you. Get some with a longer latch,” he said.

You stared at him blankly with an adorable smile on your face. “And that means…?” You asked. 

Marvin chuckled. “If you like, I’m free tomorrow and we can go to the store. Get some things to make sure you’re safe in here,” he said. He stood in the doorway, framed by a darkening sky. The white shirt glowed against his skin. He looked like an angel. Or maybe that was just your thinking because of how incredible he was. 

“I’ve taken up enough of your weekend,” you said, looking down and playing with invisible lint by the door. 

Marvin waited until you looked back at him to smile. “You can’t be a bother if I volunteer. Here, take my number, and if you need anything, just call or text. No matter the day or time,” he said. 

You took his number and gave him yours, giggling to yourself. “You don’t like me being here all by my lonesome, do you?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “I know, I sound like an old-fashioned old man. You can absolutely take care of yourself. But I’m around, okay?” He asked.

You nodded, thanked him again, and finally let him leave your stoop. You closed and locked the door behind you, leaning back against it, and squealed to yourself. He was an impossible dream. An angel. A hero. Your savior. You’d still be outside crying your eyes out while the movers hemmed and hawed about your most precious possessions. 

You daydreamed for a few minutes, letting the crush finally take over. There may never be a future, but he was sweet. And fun. And so caring it hurt. 

You threw on some tunes and started dancing around your space, getting the essentials cleaned up that day. You started in the bathroom, the one place you refused to let get dirty. First, because it grossed you out and second, because you liked taking relaxing baths with candles and music. 

And so on it went. Marvin did take you to the hardware store the next day, being patient with you and explaining why you needed this or that. Some of the items you genuinely did know about, but he was so adorable explaining things to you. He was patient, never acted put out, and never made you feel dumb for asking so many questions.

Perhaps it was then that it all started. Acting ditzy whenever he came around. Not enough to be obvious. But just so helpless unless he swooped to the rescue. And you always thanked him by calling him your hero, heaping praises on him, and making sure to grip his thick biceps and looking into his eyes as you expressed your gratitude.

As the weeks and months passed, you fell into an easy friendship with him. Your work hours aligned with his, sometimes arriving home at the exact same moment. Intending to just catch up for a few minutes, there were times you almost got sick standing outside in the cold air with him talking. 

If he “happened” to make extra food, he made sure to bring it over and he promised that you were doing him the favor. If you “happened” to make extra food, you returned the sweet gesture, passing the same dishware back and forth. 

You always texted first to make sure he didn’t have company. One day, he laughed riotously and told you that he wasn’t seeing anyone. And his friends weren’t the “come over and hang out” type. 

“And you talk about me being in a house all by myself,” you scolded him playfully, and made sure to drop by just because. You told yourself that you were just being harmless, just making sure to repay him for being so sweet to you as a neighbor. 

You weren’t sure when the teasing started. Whenever you talked to Marvin, it seemed like you were having a different conversation with your bodies. He made you warm all over. His presence and his smell already drew you in. But his protective nature and sense of humor made sure you were downright smitten.

You touched his arm or hand whenever you could. He’d find ways to step closer, or place his hand on the small of your back as he moved around you in the kitchen. Whenever you’d join him on the couch watching sports, you began to sit closer and closer together, thighs pressed together, and bumping shoulders. 

But he never picked up on your hints. You weren’t even sure what kind of hints you were throwing out there so you couldn’t entirely blame him. You had a feeling that he just wouldn’t accept your place. It was why you were usually at his place and not the other way around. Did you want him to kiss you? Grab you? Snatch you up? 

There were plenty of times you daydreamed about having your wicked way with him. What he’d look like when he let himself loose and grabbed you like he didn’t want to let go. Maybe he wouldn’t be into someone younger? 

There were quite a few years separating you, but hell. The dating pool was ass nowadays. These men acted like they had no home training. Like they thought the best jewelry, cars, and clothes were enough to snare a woman but their dick game was just as terrible. A bunch of pretty packaging on trash.

Marvin looked like he’d fuck well. He moved precisely, taking care to make himself as un-intimidating as possible, as welcoming as possible. Sometimes you stared outside of your window when he got home from the gym. His dick bounced in his gray sweatpants, letting you know that he had more than enough equipment. But you were confused, lost, wondering if you just liked him because he made you feel safe when no other guy ever did. Not even your own dad.

Yeah, yeah, daddy issues. Whatever. You made sure to back away from Marvin when things sort of took a turn. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. So it was best to back away and stop sending so many mixed signals. Besides asking Marvin to fix little things around your place. You made sure to clean up first.

One night, however, you were restless. Sleepless. You had opened your blinds in your bedroom, opening the windows as well to let in some cool air. You were unbearably horny. The porn and smut books weren’t cutting it. You threw on some sexy music, grabbed your favorite drink, and danced around your place in your panties and nothing else. Why not? You’d never done such a thing at your previous addresses, never feeling safe to do so. 

You were feeling mighty good, teasing yourself, letting the anticipation build up before you broke out your Black Noir dildo, when you turned around. Marvin had entered his own bedroom. All this time, you didn’t know your bedrooms faced each other. 

He had turned on his light, moving around his room. And the pervert in you watched. And stared. He took off the black shirt he had on, moving on to his pants. You looked away before you became too big of a pervert. But…it did give you a naughty idea. You dimmed the lights a little lower and continued dancing around your place, keeping your back turned to his window.

It may not work…but…you felt sexier. More alive. More naughty. Whether or not he actually saw something, it was enough to make you want to unplug your dildo and go to town right then and there. To imagine Marvin kissing all up and down your body, worshiping you. To get a sneak peak at the dick in his pants. You just knew he knew what to do with it. Felt it all over. 

You were lost in your daydream, you turned around to grab your drink. You looked across the way at Marvin who seemed to be spazzing out. He was windmilling, stepping backwards, and you giggled as you pretended not to notice. 

Interactions after that were…interesting. Marvin couldn’t look you in the eye after that. You’d ask and poke and prod, and he’d laugh it off, giving you some excuse about not being able to sleep. You pouted and continued to rely on him for little things. The sink wasn’t working? Call Marvin. Door was stuck? Call Marvin. 

Every time, you walked him to the door asking if there was anything you could help him with and he’d only tell you he was happy to help, bid you goodnight, and then entered his house. The little minx in you couldn’t let it go. Had to see how far you could push him and what he’d do if he snapped.

You were thoroughly in love with your sweet neighbor and you wanted to torture him right out of his pants. Your bed was against the wall, opposite the door, so your windows were on the left. From what you could puzzle out, Marvin’s bed was similar. So if you happened to lay on the bed and pleasure yourself, there would be no mistaking what you were doing. 

So you did just that. The first time, you were nervous as hell. You waited till you texted Marvin good night, that you were going to turn in early. He bid you goodnight and then you waited. Waited for him to enter his room and move around the space. All you saw was a dark shadow, but you knew that he was up here for you. Or you wished for that to be true in either case.

You had your own lights dark enough to not see anything, but dim enough to not mistake it for anything else. And you pleasured yourself with your vibrator, imagining that Marvin could see everything and was wishing it was him. You pictured him sitting in the window, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants, trying to resist touching himself. But the urge was too strong. Dick straining against his pants. So he’d take it out just to hold it. Just to relieve some of the ache. 

But then he’d see your legs moving, your hands going in and out, rubbing across your titties, and he’d know. And he’d groan. That sexy, deep, needy rumbling like he just couldn’t help himself. He’d start slowly, just absently touching himself. Stroking himself to the image of you pleasuring yourself and knowing that he could do it better. 

“Oh god, oh god,” you whined in the empty room, soft R&B music and the low vibrator the only sounds in the room. You wished it was his heavy breathing. His moaning in your ear. Was he a moaner? Did he moan while he was deep in it? 

Your clit throbbed so you pulled the Black Noir dildo out of you and rubbed it against your clit. You moaned, breathing heavier. You pictured Marvin holding it there, torturing you. Just because he was sweet didn’t mean he couldn’t be mean sometimes, right? 

The vibrations against your clit was torture and you held it there. Your hands weren’t yours anymore. They were guided by a phantom Marvin. For all you knew, he could be fast asleep at the moment. But to you, he was right in the room with you. He was holding the dildo against your clit and commanding you to hold it. 

A dildo didn’t faze him. He knew women needed something extra to take them there. He was not intimidated by a vibrating toy when he knew his dick was everything you’d ever need. “Please,” you moaned, unable to help yourself.

Your belly twisted, clit throbbing painfully. Your thoughts were completely focused on phantom Marvin, picturing his shirt off, his powerful thighs exposed. You were no better than a man in the 18th century. A little bit of ankle and you were feral for Marvin. Overcome with thoughts of him. 

You were about to cum so you plunged the black dildo into your sopping wet pussy and dialed up the vibrator. You screamed as you came, possibly calling out his name? You weren’t sure what you were saying as you had the most powerful orgasm of your life, back bowing off of the bed, legs shaking. 

When you were done, you blinked into your dark room, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck. That was intense. And wrong. And so right, it hurt. You could learn to pick up after yourself some more, couldn’t you? Because if your fantasy was even a fraction of the real thing, you needed to fuck Marvin Milk. 

Obviously, you had to consult the Council. Your circle of close friends that you trusted to tell you the truth. To see if you were tripping or if you should pursue this thing with Marvin. 

“Girl, hell no!” Your friend, Story, exclaimed on the phone. You were currently on the phone with the Council, pleading your case. 

“If his game is anything like the pics you sent, I’m honestly surprised you not knocking boots already,” your other friend, Yalonda, said. 

“To be fair, she wanted to spend this time focused on her, not a man,” her last friend, Jayne, said.

“Right, thank you!” You said. You were currently making spaghetti, stirring the noodles and trying to gauge if they were done or not. You wanted to stop tossing noodles against the wall, but hell, how else were you supposed to tell? 

“And who said focusing on Marvin is not focusing on herself? Part of self-discovery is exploration. Need I bring up Voldemort?” Yalonda asked, earning a circle of disgusted groans.

“Chile, that man dead as far as I’m concerned,” Story said.

“Raggedy bitch,” Jayne chimed in.

You chuckled, loving your friends more and more. “I don’t think I can play with this man like that, ya’ll. He sensitive,” you said. 

There was a chorus of teeth smacking and grumbles. “But is he not grown? Like if you laid it out, would he not understand?” Story asked. 

You sighed. Would he? You’d known him plenty of months, but you hadn’t gone deeper into either of your pasts. Because he was just a neighbor, really. But a neighbor you had so much in common with. You genuinely liked spending time with him. You loved his sense of humor, loved that he was so giving. You were a homebody, preferring to be in your own space and alone, rather than snuggled up underneath someone else. You got the sense that Marvin was the same. Preferring to keep his own company.

“You know how men get in they feelings when women treat them like bitches. Like shit, we took a page out of your book, playa! We trynna get like you and now it’s a problem,” Yalonda said.

“Preach! Speak on it!” Jayne said. 

You giggled. “No one’s saying I got to marry the man. But I don’t think it’d be as casual as I’m picturing,” you said. 

“There ain’t a casual bone in your body, honey. And that’s okay! You can still focus on yourself while getting dicked down,” Jayne said. 

“But if Marvin come around talkin’ ‘bout he wants a relationship, now is she wrong or is he?” Story asked, taking the words right out of her mouth. 

On and on it went. The decision was always left up to you, but still. You valued their input and it helped you realize that you cared about Marvin. Cared about how he took care of you. You didn’t have to blow this out of proportion. You could start light. There was a possibility that Marvin would be just fine with a casual affair. He had a life, you had a life, you were both adults. 

“So what you gonna do?” Story asked. The line buzzed with bated breath from your friends. You stirred the meat, adding a teensy bit more oregano, when you sighed.

“I’m gon’ fuck that old man,” you said.

You pulled the phone away from your ear as the girls squealed, gassing you up. Reminding you that you were hot as hell and it was your divine right to fuck that old man. You giggled, now needing their help. You knew how to get guys interested, but with an older man like Marvin, you didn’t know what it would take. It was your first experience taking an older man seriously. 

Would your usual tricks work? No. With the Council’s help, you figured that you’d have to go through with torturing him out of his pants. 

You started the torture by ditching your comfortable, “let’s be friends” outfits and traded them for “Whoops, a little too tight” clothing. Lots of shorts. Lots of tank tops. Your first act was to make sure that you were outside, watering your grass, wearing short shorts and flip flops, bending over unnecessarily, waiting for Marvin.

Marvin arrived home just in time and got out of his car, his lips pressed together in disapproval. “Hey!” He called out. 

You waved to him, your shirt lifting and giving him a peek at your body. He walked up his driveway, stopping to look over at you. There was a short concrete wall separating your properties, no taller than your ankles. You sauntered over, and grinned at him, taking your hand off the trigger.

The nozzle dripped with water and you collected the drops, rubbing it into your neck and chest. “Whew! It was hot as hell today, huh? Did you make sure to stay hydrated?” You asked.

Marvin swallowed and his eyes seemed unfocused, looking down somewhere on your body. You wish you knew where. Was he an ass man? A breasts man? You needed something more from him to guide you in the right direction. 

“I should be asking you that,” he said, a smile crossing his face. 

You waved him off. “You’re too sweet to me, Marvin,” you said. 

He chuckled. “I promise I’m not,” he said. 

You engaged him in more innocent conversation, telling him about your job, and he told you about his day. You reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re so cool for what you do, Marvin. It takes a strong man to see what you do and still show up for those kids,” you told him.

He had the most adorable look on his face. You wondered if people praised him enough. Thanked him enough for everything that he did. You let him go and grinned. “Anywho, I should let you get inside and rest,” you told him.

He looked like he wanted to tell you something, so you looked at him and tilted your head. “Have a restful evening,” he said, nodded to you, and then turned around.

You bit your lip, watching him walk away, wondering if you didn’t have to torture him that long before he caved. He looked like he was torturing himself enough. Your core heated up, picturing him being just as smitten with you. Just as in lust. If he was rubbing himself raw in the shower to images of you in his mind. 

You turned around and finished watering your lawn, heading back inside for the next phase of your torture. 

You spent the week being mysteriously busy. Marvin had slowed inviting you over so you used that time to make yourself as unavailable as possible. A little toxic, but you got yourself dressed up and took yourself out as if you were going on dates. You managed to leave sometimes, just as Marvin was arriving home. Sometimes you’d wave, sometimes you pretended not to see him.

Friday night, you waited to leave in that leopard print dress you had, fuck me heels making your ass look fantastic. You heard his car pull up, saw the lights move across your living room. You waited a beat, then exited your home.

“Hey!” Marvin called. You pretended not to hear. You tapped away on your phone, giggling and smiling at nothing, as you made your way to your car, pulling up your strapless dress. 

Marvin’s shoes crunched on your grass as he crossed your lawn, calling your name with a little more bass in his voice. You turned to him, a sweet smile on your face, and you watched him approach. 

“Got another date?” He asked. 

You bit your cheek to keep from smiling. “Marvin! You’re so sweet to worry! Yes, I’m going on another date. Do I look good?” You asked. You twirled, taking your time to show him every possible angle. 

“Dressed like that?” He asked. 

“You don’t like it?” You asked. You pouted, playing with your matching clutch bag. 

“Whoa, hey, you look amazing. I just…” he trailed off, looking at your outfit. You let him, smiling to yourself, but then cleared your throat.

“You just…?” You prompted.

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds. I just hope these men are nice to you,” he said.

You giggled. “I’m not,” you said and continued to giggle. At Marvin’s confused face, you stopped and shrugged. “Obviously, I would like a nice man. But the dating scene sucks. You should be lucky you swore it off. These people out here are animals. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But a girl’s got needs, you know?” 

“Needs?” He asked.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. All this hard work getting my place together. All the bullshit at work. I need to take the edge off too, you know,” you said. 

“So the…” he started but then stopped. 

“The what?” You asked, blinking innocently at him. 

Marvin shook his head, rubbed his beard. “I’m overstepping, I’m sorry,” he said. He smiled. “Have a great night. Let me know when you get home safe and sound, okay?” He reached out and rubbed your elbow. 

You deflated against your car, watching him walk away. What the hell was it going to take? You got into your car with a huff, all dressed up with no real destination in mind. Fuck it. You called the Council and decided to go clubbing. If you weren’t really going to fuck someone tonight, you can at least show off your outfit. Because you looked fucking amazing. 

You spent the night putting Marvin from your mind. You danced, you flirted your way to free drinks, you babysat Yalonda, poor thing never able to keep up with ya’ll. When you made it home, all the lights were off in Marvin’s place. You threw him a middle finger as you let yourself into your place, wondering if all this effort was even worth it. If Marvin even wanted to have sex with you. 

You spent the weekend in your feelings, moping around your place. You didn’t know what it would take to get Marvin into your pants. What were you missing? Why was he not interested? 

After spending Saturday moping, you finally decided to wash the grime of the day from you. You went to turn your shower on, but nothing came out. The pipes groaned, a strange knocking sound, but no water. You huffed, checking for possible culprits. Your sinks still worked, but not your shower.

You groaned, cursing the shower head from here to kingdom come. You didn’t want to call Marvin for this. You wondered if Story or Jayne would let you borrow one of their men to come fix it. You went to your room in search of your phone, when you remembered that it was Story’s anniversary and Jayne’s husband was sweet but useless as hell when it came to handy work. 

You stomped your foot, pouting, giving in to the temper tantrum coursing through your body. Your pride didn’t want to let you call Marvin for something so stupid. If he wasn’t interested in you, why didn’t he just say that? Why didn’t he shut your ass down? Why did he allow you to develop this stupid crush on him? 

You really wanted a shower. You didn’t do anything all day, but you couldn’t relax without a bath. It was the one first-world problem you didn’t want to have. You liked ready and easy access to hot water. And now you didn’t have it. And it was probably too late at night to call anyone else.

You stomped your foot again, walking into your living room and taking a peek behind your blinds. Marvin was watching TV in his living room like an old man. You smiled, despite yourself. There was nothing sexier than a man who was comfortable in his skin and in his own company. 

You sucked your teeth and finally dialed his number. You were in booty shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Not completely sexy, but not bad either. You held the phone to your ear while you scurried to your bedroom.

You may not be powerful enough to torture him out of his pants, but maybe direct seduction would work. You thought over every conversation you had with Marvin, every little self-deprecating joke he uttered, and wondered if he thought you wouldn’t be interested in him? 

If he thought he was too old, too old-fashioned, or “overstepping his bounds”. Who the fuck even said something like that? Men who thought no one was interested in them. Poor baby. This was your last chance. If being direct didn’t help, then he was either gay or still hung up on his ex-wife or simply didn’t want you. 

The phone rang a few times in your ear before Marvin’s rough voice picked up. “Hey, what’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry to bug,” you started and Marvin chuckled. 

“Didn’t I say you never bug?” He asked. 

“Yes, but…”

“No buts. What do you need?” He asked.

Was he aware of how hot he was? Did none of the women in his life give him a fucking clue? Four little words out of his mouth, in his sinful deep voice, was enough to make you moan. Was he that blind? 

You sucked your teeth and groaned. “My shower isn’t working. And feel free to say no! It’s just…” You paused to look through your lingerie. You didn’t want anything too revealing, like this was all a set up. But you wanted something that showed you meant business. None of what you owned fit the bill. You were used to younger guys. You wanted to get in, run their hands over your teddies or panties, and then get down to fucking. No foreplay. No talking. 

“Just what?” Marvin asked. Was it your imagination or did his voice get rougher? 

“It’s just, I get a little crazy about my showers. It relaxes me. Calms me down. I can’t live without taking a nice, long, hot, relaxing bath or shower,” you said. You shimmied out of your shorts and went to remove your oversized Tupac shirt when it dawned on you…you didn’t need anything fancy with Marvin. The point of direct seduction was to be direct. 

Marvin chuckled softly. “Say no more, sweetheart. I’ll be right over with my tools,” he said. You said goodbye, but your pussy throbbed with his endearing words to you. He’d never called you such a thing before. You stood in your bedroom, momentarily dazed. You wanted to be his sweetheart. So damn badly you could taste it. 

The doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts. Shit. Shit. You picked up your shorts off of the floor and threw them in the laundry basket, along with the clothes from the famous chair. You pushed it into your closet and then hurriedly walked to the front door, eyeing your surroundings.

Not the best, but luckily, you hadn’t left too much chaos in your wake getting ready this past week or moping today. You opened the door, grinning at Marvin. His eyes dropped to your legs for a moment before he looked back at you, smiling. 

You opened the door further, waving him inside. He stepped in, head on a swivel. You wondered if he had a military background. Safe inside, you closed and locked the door. “Thank you for coming over. You sure you weren’t busy?” You asked.

Marvin shook his head. “I’m an old man. All I do is my job and go home. I must seem pretty boring, huh?” He asked.

You shook your head. Feeling nervous all of a sudden. You’ve seduced men before. It was a thrill every time. But this felt different with Marvin. Felt different because he meant more to you than any of those other flings. You wanted to please him. It shouldn’t be a radical concept but it was. 

“You are the opposite of boring, Marvin. In fact, I think you’re pretty special,” you said.

Marvin laughed and shrugged his shoulders, walking deeper into your home. The kitchen was just in front and you prayed that he wasn’t looking at your dirty dishes. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make you cringe. 

“I’m surprised you’re home on a Saturday night. Why aren’t you out on a date?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, forcing him to turn around to you. You were still leaning against the door, your head tilted towards him. “I haven’t found what I wanted,” you said. 

No games. No tricks. No attitude. You walked towards Marvin, okay sauntered, and when you got within his personal space, you looked at him. You locked eyes as you grabbed the toolbox out of his hands. You placed it on the nearest end table, taking his hands and leading him to the back of the couch. 

“What do you want?” He asked, eyebrow lifted, a scowl on his face. Did he really not have a clue? No idea of what you were feeling? This whole time, you thought you were a neon sign. Professing how much you wanted to fuck him. How badly you wanted to be wrapped in his arms. Underneath him. Welcoming him into your body. 

He wore another music shirt, N.W.A splattered across his chest. Gold chain gleaming in your warm lighting. Dark sweats. Dark shoes. He looked good enough to lick on. What a great idea, actually. 

“You. I want you,” you said. You stared into his eyes, sinking slowly to your knees. 

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked. He tried to bend down, hands flying to your arms to lift you. You resisted, hands moving to his pants. 

“I’m telling you that I’m crazy about you and that I found a great way to thank you,” you said.

“Thank me?” 

“Yup. Thank you for welcoming me to the neighborhood, being sweet to me on my worst day, and becoming the best thing about my day, talking to you,” you said. 

Marvin relaxed against the back of your couch. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said.

“I know. I want to. Please, Marvin? You’d be doing me a favor,” you said. 

Marvin rested his hands on the back of the couch, so you began to tug his pants down. He wore nothing underneath, his thick dick bobbing up and down once freed. He was huge and growing by the second, as he stood at attention. 

“What kind of favor?” He asked. He sounded less unsure and more amused. So you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick. 

“I cannot scratch this really particular itch I have. I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried pleasing myself. And nothing worked. Not even picturing you using my vibrator on me,” you pouted, licking his tip. 

“Don’t tell me that,” Marvin groaned. 

“Don’t tell you what? That I masterbate? Or I do it with your name on my lips?” You asked.

Marvin groaned and tapped the back of your couch. “I didn’t think you’d want this from me. That dress the other day made me want to drag you back inside the house,” he said.

You chuckled, pussy clenching at his confession. So he did like you! Really liked you! 

You gripped his dick, moving your hands softly up and down since he wasn’t properly lubed up yet. He groaned, looking down at you. 

“I wanted you to,” you said. 

Marvin chuckled. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you crying outside your house. I wanted to do anything to make you smile,” he said.

You sighed and rested your forehead against his thigh. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t be cute right now,” you said. 

Marvin laughed again and his dick bounced. You looked up at him. “I’ve pictured you on your knees too. Felt like a pervert, stroking to the pics you’ve sent me,” he said, referring to the innocent selfies you sent him, trying to cajole a few out of him. Something to keep you going in between spouts of seeing him. 

“You’ve jerked off to me?” You asked. 

Marvin nodded. “Did you intentionally masterbate in front of your bedroom window for me?” He asked.

Your thighs tingled. He had been watching! The confirmation of it made you clench even more, wanting so desperately to rush this. To speed things along. To pounce on him and not come up for air. 

You nodded. “I hoped you were watching,” you confessed.

Marvin smirked. “Is that right?” He asked.

You nodded and went back to nuzzling his dick. The sweet musk of him. He kept the hair here nice and trimmed, just like the rest of him. You were a little intimidated by it, but you were willing to try. 

You opened your mouth and suckled the head. Marvin groaned, his hand flying to your hair but then backing away. You chuckled. “You can play with my hair,” you told him.

Marvin’s hand went back to your hair, scratching lightly. Your eyes rolled and you went back to suckling him down further. Damn. No one’s ever done that for you before. It activated your demon brain, taking off the kid gloves. 

You sucked him down in one fell swoop. Marvin moaned, grabbing your hair and yanking painfully. You kept going, slobbering on his dick. Playing with his dick. Toying with it. Unleashing all that pent up horniness, disgusting daydreams, and filthy fantasies your mind had cooked up over the past few months. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marvin moaned. He gripped your hair tighter and you moaned, panties getting wetter by the second. You planned to ease him into this. Get used to the idea that you wanted him worse than an addict wanted a drink. Then you would ease him into your filthy mind. The way you turned into an absolute horn dog when you wanted someone. 

You didn’t know what it was. Only that once you were locked in to someone, you burned bright and fast. You were into it all. Being dominated, being controlled, being at the mercy of someone else. It didn’t always work out well. Some men were just too weak to fit the bill. 

But you needed to put it on Marvin. Needed him to know how serious you were. How this wasn’t casual to you. And you hoped it wasn’t for him. Because he was already sending hella signals that he was into you, that this wasn’t small. And you feared that once you got a taste, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Would cross oceans of time to get back to him and his glorious dick.

Your slobber dripped down your chin as you spat on it and then sucked him back down. The chorus of curses raining out of Marvin’s mouth was like music to your ears. The subtle praise was successfully turning your mind to mush. 

“Fuck, I’m ‘bout to bust, sweetheart,” he groaned.

You renewed your efforts, gripping onto his thighs and sucking him down as far back as he would go. You slowly withdrew his dick from your mouth, feeling every vein and the edge of his mushroom head. Fresh precum leaked into your mouth and then you swallowed him all again. 

“Shit,” Marvin said. “So fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth,” he moaned. 

You moaned around his dick, looking up at him and repeating your efforts. Getting faster and faster until Marvin gripped your head on either side and moaned. Cum pulsed into your mouth and you drank greedily. His dick throbbed, more leaking out. You suckled that down too. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Marvin groaned. You slowly withdrew him with a pop and licked the corners of your mouth. 

Marvin was sweating and his chest was heaving with his breaths. He stared at you like you were otherworldly. Something conjured from his mind and made flesh. You loved that look in his eye. You grinned and nuzzled his balls. His slick dick smeared across your face, but that was okay. You couldn’t stop touching him, being near him, pleasuring him. 

“Stand up,” he commanded. You used his thighs for support as you stood up and shook out your aching legs. Your focus had been on making him cum in your mouth so you ignored your body’s protests. Now that you were back to the land of the living, your check engine lights came on. 

Your feet burned with static as feeling returned, your knees groaning, and your thighs slightly shook. You used the end of your shirt to clean off the rest of your mouth, the saliva and cum you didn’t get to. 

Marvin grabbed you by the elbow and shoved you down the hallway. You giggled from the way he manhandled you. He tossed you onto the bed and then went to work taking off his shoes and clothes. Fully naked before you, you sat up on your elbows to take in the full view of him.

Fuck, he was perfect. His body was thick in all the right places. Round belly but there was muscle underneath, arms big enough to crush melons, thick waist, and big sexy thighs. His sexy brown skin only seemed to shine brighter in your room. No shadows to hide behind, he was hands down the finest man you’d ever seen naked. 

Marvin grinned at you and pushed your shirt up to expose your panties. He pinned your legs apart, staring at your clad center. He got to his knees, pulling your leg over his shoulder. “All this time? You’ve been teasing me on purpose?” He asked. 

He pressed a thumb against your pussy and you moaned. The sensation was too much to your oversensitive clit. You squirmed on the bed and all he did was press a thumb there. Either you were just that horny, or you were that horny for Marvin. “Y-Yes,” you moaned, when he pressed his thumb in again. 

“All the dresses, the dates, the intentional innuendos. You wanted me jealous, didn’t you?” He asked. He moved his thumb all around your pussy. Down the seam, down the sides of your panties, towards your entrance.

Your breathing increased, heart jumping in your chest. You were thoroughly turned on. Thoroughly ejected from your brain and into fantasyland. “Yes,” you moaned. You needed more. You needed him to move your panties to the side. 

“Please, Marvin,” you begged.

Marvin pushed his nose into your pussy and took a deep breath. “Such a brat. Why should I reward you for being so bad?” He asked. His thumb pushed past the seam of your panties, pressing into the sides of your pussy and you moaned, pushing your hips down in an effort to get him where you wanted him. 

“I’ve been good, I swear,” you said. 

“You let those other men touch you?” He asked. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick thighs. 

You never went on any dates and you wondered if you should fess up to that. However, there was a feral, animalistic glint in his eye that was turning you on even more. “A little, there was some kissing,” you said instead of the truth. 

Marvin closed his eyes, jaw flexed, and then used his free hand to wipe his face. “What else did you let them do?” He asked. 

His thumb played with the seam of your pussy but he didn’t push in further. Your essence pooled out of you, enough to let him slide without issue. But you needed him to touch your pussy. To stick a finger in, something. He was being so mean. And god, you fucking loved it. 

“That’s it, I swear,” you said. Marvin looked at you, his eyes intense. You nodded. “I swear.” 

Marvin removed his thumb, pressing it to his lips and suckling on your slick. You watched his eyes close, a low hum escaping him. He leaned up and then moved your panties to the side, tongue darting out to lick up from your pussy to your clit.

“Oh shit!” You screamed. His tongue flicked your swollen clit, causing some type of vibration that made your eyes cross. 

“No one else touches what’s mine, understand?” He asked.

“What’s yours?” You asked. Marvin bit the inside of your thigh and you cried out. 

“No one else touches what’s mine. Including you,” he said. He backed up his words with his tongue and lips, zeroing in on your clit and suckling hard. 

You back bowed off of the bed, but you had no room to move. Marvin had you completely trapped and under his mercy. He licked and sucked, making out with your pussy or feasting on an entire meal. You grew wetter from fresh slick and his spit, suckling on you messy and loud. It was lewd, listening to how wet he made you. How turned on he made you. 

“Oh, fuck, Marvin,” you groaned. 

Marvin hummed greedily, still eating you out. He focused on your clit, bringing his hand up to dip into your weeping hole. His hand slipped in easily, messily. You clenched around his finger and moaned. 

Marvin added a second finger, testing how much you could take. It’d been a minute but Black Noir’s dildo was oversized, playing up the stereotype. You were over Vaught for that, but shit, it was the only one close enough to satisfy your sexual appetite. So with two of Marvin’s fingers down to the knuckle, it wasn’t the biggest you’d ever taken. Still.

He knew how to explore with those fingers. Moving them in all kinds of different directions. Your moans and groans changed depending on what he was doing. And fuck if that wasn’t the point. He found exactly what got you going, what got you whimpering and clutching onto him, and your nails digging into his scalp. 

Marvin moaned into your pussy, flicking his tongue across your clit. “I’ll prove that I’m the only man you need,” he said. He went back to suckling and then switched up again, rubbing his fingers against a tiny nub inside you. You exploded. Shattered. Broken into tiny, jagged pieces that scraped your vocal chords as you screamed out your release. 

Marvin continued to eat you out, and rub against that nub. You went from one powerful orgasm to the next. Your leg shook on top of his shoulder. You made all kinds of unholy, unhinged sounds as you flopped on your bed. 

You whimpered as you came down from the second one. Your bed was soaked beneath you. An entire puddle. “You made a beautiful mess, sweetheart,” Marvin said, sounding awed. Sounding reverent. 

Your pussy clenched at his praise. Like that was all he wanted and you granted it to him. You whimpered again, shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm. You thought you were good at sex. You thought you knew how to put it down. Marvin was insane. He was in another league and it was making you feel a little insecure. 

But then Marvin started kissing your thighs as he stood up. He helped removed your panties and then yanked you up by the shirt. You giggled as you fought with the big shirt, wishing you had opted to wear something easier to remove. Marvin giggled too, breaking the intense persona he adopted.

Freed, cold but welcome air hit your hardened nipples. Marvin kissed all over your big belly, all over your rolls, dips, and hips. He moaned after every kiss, like each new space was more delicious than the last. 

“Fuck, you make me feel so good, Marvin. So fuckin’ good,” you panted. You were out of breath. Overheated. He made you feel like you could walk barefoot on the sun and not get get burnt. 

Marvin groaned, kissing up to your chest. He took his time, suckling one nipple into his mouth and then turning his attention to the other. Your knees snapped to his waist, holding him in. Your pussy began throbbing again in record time. 

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Can you give me one more? Can you make another mess for me?” He asked, kissing each question into your chest. 

You shook your head. Hell naw you couldn’t give him one more. Was he crazy? Another one? He wanted another one after that previous explosion? You wouldn’t survive it. 

“Where’s your toy?” He asked.

“What?” You asked, fresh dread making your heart sink. 

Marvin got up from the bed and went to your nightstand, opening it and finding his prize. He chuckled, flipping it around while he found the on switch. The dildo started vibrating and he looked from it to you.

“This what you into, huh?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “I know they’re trash but they sure know their client base,” you said. 

Marvin nodded and stepped close to you. And yes, his dick was bigger. Of course it was bigger than the toy. You were out of your league in more ways than one, but he’d been nothing but gentle with you, even while he was doing his own brand of torture. 

He brought the dildo to your clit. You began to moan, pushing against the toy. It was on the lowest setting but it was like heaven against you. You were too sensitive as it was. Marvin played with your essence and the toy, swirling the tip around your clit.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he said. “You don’t know how many mornings I woke up, humping the shit out of my bed, trying to hold onto my dreams,” he said. 

Oh shit. Marvin’s words went straight to your heart. Why did he have to be so….him? So open, so caring, so filthy? You were going to collapse from it all. 

“Marvin, please,” you whined. Your voice shook. Body so warm and sweaty, mind gone. He broke you down in more ways than one and you once again marveled at him. 

“Is this what you do when you masterbate? Tease yourself? I bet you do,” he cooed at you. He turned up the vibrator, the vibrations more intense and making your teeth chatter. Your toes curled, trying to stave off another orgasm. You weren’t joking. You were really going to collapse from this one. 

“Hey, look at me sweetheart,” he said. Your eyes turned to his and he smiled. “You’re okay. You can let that shit go. I know you like to tease yourself. Play with yourself. ‘Cause you know exactly what turns you on, huh?” He asked.

You nodded, staring into his eyes. You were struggling to breathe but it grew easier focusing on him and not the fact that you were getting ready to combust. “And I can’t wait to get to know every spot, every moan, everything that makes your eyes roll,” he continued.

“Oh, shit, Marvin, Marvin,” you said, words rising with your panic. You were just there, just at the precipice. Your nails dug into his arm but he showed no indication that it hurt him. He was indestructible. Your hero, your savior. 

Marvin leaned in, arm flexing with supporting his weight on the bed. He suckled a nipple back into his mouth, teasing it, rolling it between his teeth. The bite of pain sent a ripple down to your pussy and you throbbed. 

“You’re a brat but you know when to give in, don’t you? There’s only so long you can tease yourself before you get greedy, huh? ‘Cause your spoiled ass always gets what she wants. Go on and let that shit go,” he cooed.

Marvin turned the setting up to its highest setting, pressing it firmly against your clit. You came immediately. Black spots winking in and out of your vision. You broke down, atom by atom, bit by bit, conceptual thought by abstract thought, and there was only you, him, and the intense pleasure he wrought out of your body. You screamed to the ceiling, screamed to heavens, screamed to anyone who was near enough to hear that you were cumming and cumming hard enough to see stars. 

Marvin distantly moved around you, doing something. You weren’t sure what. You were starting to calm down, feeling the fresh pool of wetness leak out of you. “Fuuck, you’re soaked, sweetheart,” he said.

He came back into your field of vision, lining himself up. Oh, he went and grabbed a condom. What a beautiful man. You pushed against his chest, arm too weak to really stop him. “Slow, baby, please,” you huffed. 

Marvin chuckled and pushed against your hand. “You’ve already taken everything so well, sweetheart,” he said and kissed your forehead. 

Your mind emptied out with a feral moan and Marvin pushed into your warm pussy. He groaned as he made contact. “Fuck, you’re good and wet baby. Look at that, slid right in. ‘Cause you take everything so well. So fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin’ perfect,” he moaned. 

The praise was snatching your soul. Marvin grunted with every slip and slide of him inside you. Your legs locked around his waist, some primal muscle memory locking him in. Trapping him in. Keeping him connected to you while he fucked you.

You gripped onto his shoulders, scratching him. He groaned and began fucking you harder. His big, meaty palms grabbed your hips and slammed you into his dick. He was so big. He stretched you to your limit. But all the preparation made sense to you now. There was no way you could take him unless you were properly wet. 

Wouldn’t be a problem with him but you made a mental note to buy some lube. Possibly two bottles because you couldn’t imagine having this much patience again. You’d want to climb on top of him any chance you got. 

“Fuck, Marvin! You’re so big!” You screamed. And this time, you weren’t trying to hurry the man along. You were dead serious, praising him for what God and genetics blessed him with. Your ass smacked on his thighs, dick burrowing deep inside. 

“Fuck you feel good taking this dick,” he moaned. One of his hands moved to pinch a nipple. He held on while he fucked you hard, headboard clapping against your wall. 

“Shit!” You screamed, once again creaming on his dick. You hadn’t even felt this one coming. It snuck up on you, robbing you of breath and thought. 

Marvin groaned, slammed in a few more times, before shooting into the condom. You felt his dick pulse with each shot of cum and you moaned, clutching his body to you. He slowed down, breathing heavy in your ear. His sweaty body felt cold on yours and yet the heat of him was enough to scald. 

He stood up, slowly withdrawing from you. You groaned as he worked himself out. You rolled to one elbow, huffing with the effort. A thick wad of cum was at the tip of the condom. Marvin smiled at you. It was devastating. It broke your heart. 

You were lost in it completely as he took the condom off and disappeared to your bathroom. You heard water running and then he was back with a washcloth, cleaning up between your legs.

You felt so cherished and taken care of. Where had he been all your life? Moving next to him was the single greatest idea you’d ever had. Fuck every doubt, every regret, every night you spent wondering if this was the right move. Marvin just proved it was.

After cleaning you up, he got rid of the rag and then helped you stand up. He stripped your bed, and then found new sheets in the cabinet you told him about. In record time, he put new sheets on and then was pulling you back down, embracing you from behind.

You snuggled into his warmth, yawning, feeling safe and warm and madly in love. He was never escaping you. Never getting rid of you. Dick could absolutely change a woman’s tune, got damn. 

“I got one more question before you fall asleep, sweetheart,” he said and kissed behind your ear.

“Hmm?” You asked, no energy for anything. You were falling asleep fast.

“Did your shower really go out?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you agreed and then you were fast asleep to the sound of Marvin’s chuckles.

There's more! The Secret Mother's Milk Files

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[lendeah]

A small prompt because I was feeling sad and inspired😞sorry if the writing is lazy, wrote it in a rush!

Prompt: "you make me feel so alone."

Tags: Angst, Ascended! Astarion, mentions of blood, Astarion x Fem!Tav

Words: 1.3k

I thought the illithid invasion would be the worse thing that I’d witness in my whole life. The scene unfolding in front of me, however, comes close by. Another scream of pain rips the air, bouncing off the walls of Cazador’s Throne Room, well, Astarion’s Throne Room. I close my eyes, trying to distance myself from this reality, as I have done so many times over the past few months. But the sound of blood splashing the marble floor is enough to make me sick.

The poor goblin had been caught stealing some relic from the Palace, when he was on cleaning duty. Obviously, Astarion hadn’t taken the news too well, and decided to make an example out of him.

The example? A hundred and twenty lashes on his back, one for each coin the relic was worth. All of this while Master Astarion watched from his throne, of course. He wasn’t one to get his hands dirty.

Astarion sits on his throne, observing the punishment from afar. His demeanor is cool and collected, but a strange air of madness and depravity emanates from him. His piercing gaze is full of anticipation, and a hint of sadism is visible on his face.

The goblin's scream is only interrupted by the harsh sound of the whip, the noise of flesh hitting flesh. After what seems like an eternity, the punishment ends, and I exhale a shaky breath, finally daring to reopen my eyes. The goblin lies unconscious on the floor, and for a moment I wonder if he is dead, before I hear him wail. His back is bleeding, the skin cut open and bruised all over. Astarion seems pleased with himself, chuckling and clapping his hands.

"Amazing show! I loved it! We should repeat sometime” He exclaims. Then, he looks at me, a sadistic glint in his eyes. "What did you think of my little show?"

I make my face a facade of indifference.

“It was beautiful, my king” I lie, knowing to tread my words carefully around him.

"Oh, I know you love that..." His eyes travel all over my body, before stopping at my face. "But perhaps we could put on quite a show ourselves later in our chambers, yes? I have some special plans for my lovely pet."

A shiver runs through my back at the thought of his hands on me, but I plaster an smile and nod silently. He smirks and tugs at my leash, making me sit in his lap, as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"Ah, my lovely pet... So beautiful and obedient. Isn't my little spawn the most amazing thing I could've found?"

I feel nauseous, as I always do when I’m with him nowadays. At first I thought I could be happy as long as he was happy, but soon I discovered he wasn’t the man I loved anymore. The man I once loved has been replaced by this cruel and sadistic red eyed thing.

"Oh, you don't appear very happy," Astarion notices, but he doesn't seem to care. "Your face isn't as beautiful as before... You no longer smile as you used to... Is there something bothering you?" His hands caress the side of your forehead, brushing off a few stray strands of hair. “Perhaps I can alleviate your worries? My little pet has to be happy with me, after all."

A stray tear rolls down my cheek, but I do my best to smile and pretend to be happy.

“Of course I’m happy, master. I will always be happy with you”

"That's my good girl," Astarion seems pleased with you, not noticing the fake cheer. "Now, let's go to our chambers. I've plenty of things in mind for my dear little pet."

The body on the floor has already been lifted by the time we get out of the throne, making in to the master bedroom in no time. My breath grows shaky as I enter the bedroom, my heartbeat quickens, and my lips are dry as Astarion closes the door behind me. I can feel my legs heavy and weak beneath me, and I just want to run away as fast as I can.

The room looks almost unchanged from how it used to be when we first came here, but all the memories I have with him now have a darker undertone. After he has his way with my body, and we lay tangled in bed I silently weep on my pillow, and for the last time, I let myself get vulnerable with him.

“What happened to you?” I choke, almost a whisper.

He stirs next to me, not expecting my outburst.

"What happened to me?” He huffs “My whole life I've been the slave of some powerful Vampire master who wanted to use me for his amusement, I finally manage to free myself and rule over this kingdom... And I get this weakling, asking dumb questions? What makes you think you have the right to ask such things?"

I look at the ceiling. At this point, I’m not even hurt by his words. Not even annoyed. I just feel apathetic. However, I let myself try for the last time.

“You make me feel so alone” I whisper.

He scoffs at my words

“Oh? Alone? But you have me! That’s all you wanted, right? For me to love you." He asks, seemingly amused by my reaction.

Another tear falls down my cheek, and I laugh dryly.

“I have never felt more alone than how I feel now with you”

Astarion chuckles darkly.

"You're such a pitiful creature. All you do is whine and cry. You never make sense. You're nothing but a fool. I gave you everything you ever wanted. All the power and glory you could wish for. This beautiful body, my undivided attention. And yet, you're the one who's feeling alone?"

His voice grows harsher, and his eyes are cold as ice when he looks at me.

I turn my head to finally face him, “There is nothing of the warm, funny and caring man that I loved. Instead, I am in a golden cage trapped with a cruel, ruthless man who pretends to love me so I won’t leave his side” I take a shaky breath “So yes, I am alone”

"You dare talk to me like that?" His voice is sharp as a knife, and his eyes blaze. “You're lucky I still keep you around. I had half a mind to make you one of my spawn, but you seem too stupid to be worthy of such an honor."

And at that point, I finally realize, that the old Astarion won’t ever come back. He is dead, right next to Cazador’s severed body. And I will never forgive myself for letting him go through with the ritual.

But I can’t spend one more second inside this haunted place.

With the last of my strength, I plaster a fake smile and tell him “I’m sorry, Master, you are right. Forgive my manners, the goblin scene from before left me a bit shaken”

"I forgive you, my pet... You were just too naive, that's all. I had to bring you back to your senses."

He leans over to kiss my forehead, and I suppress a shudder. We spend the night like that, in each other’s embrace, but I lay awake the whole time, watching the time go by.

By morning, when Astarion returns from his usual hunting routine, the Vampire Court Consort is nowhere to be seen. Nobody seems to have seen her leave the palace, nor escape through a window.

Rumors say, the woman escaped through a portal with a certain wizard. Others add that a light cleric, claiming to share her knowledge, snuck her out with an invisibility spell. The only sure thing is that, for the rest of his life, the Vampire King will search all around the world for his property, knowing she was the first and last woman he loved.

[adventure-doodles]

New D&D character. Meet Quill!

Workflow / Process

Quill story...click below. :-)

Quill

A rogue turned Kenku formerly Rinnalya Rosewater aka “Rooftop Rin”

Originally a half elf, Rinnalya Rosewater, was born to loving human / elf parents who owned a bakery in the Trades Ward of Waterdeep (Breadsmith Bakery - known for cookies shaped like swords & shields*). Rin quickly grew bored of the idyllic life of early morning bread baking and kitchen duties. From an early age she sought adventure, danger, and all the things fine pastries could never bring into one’s life. She was constantly daydreaming of something more.

It was one misty morning in the early spring when her daydreams became reality. She ran into a rooftop running rogue, or rather he ran into her, after gracefully dropping from the eaves of the high stacked buildings of the Wards during a chase from the Watch. With quick and clever action, and some exchanging of cloaks, Rinn assisted the rogue in fooling the guard to give up the chase. Afterwards, in thanks, the rogue gave her a token of good luck: a coin with the face of Tymora (which she still has to this day) and the name/location of a contact she should check out if she might ever be interested in more of these types of pursuits.

It was from this moment forward Rinn vowed to leave the flour dusted life her parents had planned for her. She made her own plan, saved what coin she could squirrel away, and trained - or at least tried to, on her own time in the back alleys when no one was watching (breaking more than a bone or two in the process). She was ready to leave home as soon as she blew the candles from her Coming of Age celebration cake - or at least she thought she was ready - that fateful night under the light of a clouded moon when she packed her meager possessions and never looked back.

Thus began Rinn’s journey as a rogue - seeking out the contact she’d been given so many years before. Life was rough at first, but got better as it went along. Whether it be a simple drop or a high value transport, over time, Rinn became one of the best and most accountable rogues for any job across the rooftops of Waterdeep (and its undercity Skullport), eventually earning her the nickname: Rooftop Rin. She had just accepted a role as the prominent runner for an up-and-coming guild called the Nightwalkers - when her luck finally turned.

It was during her initial run with the guild, after being handed off the lift from a high value target, dashing across the rain slick tiles high into the night air while traveling south from the North Ward, Rooftop Rin fell.** It was many stories down, broken on the cobblestone, where she died. Shortly after, this was where an elderly druid passing through discovered her - and for whatever reason (she never could get a straight answer) felt compelled to cast reincarnation - resulting in her current form as a kenku.

Mentally broken, with holes in her memory which she still has to this day (unable to recall the most recent events of her half elf life, how she fell, and/or who was in the Nightwalker guild exactly) and physically deformed (her opinion on the matter) she decided to leave Waterdeep and serve the druid, in thanks and also because she didn’t know what the hell else to do - traveling with him from the city she had always known to his grove in the Misty Forest on the edge of the High Moor. She has served the druid since, eventually being told his name (Fellini), learning more than she ever wanted to about the growth patterns of spores and mushrooms, spending her free time dreaming of the city she left behind and of the smell of fresh baked bread and pastries: of the life she turned away, never lived, and now can never go back to.

[circuschroniclescritter]

Hello! I'm the mod, you can call me Mod Circus.

Please respect that this blog is both as canon but also an What If Au of the smiling critters circus au! It's also mostly headcanons, so some stuff might not be accurate or in character.

I am a college student who enjoys roleplaying and making up aus! I am a sys as well, along with a protective sibling type! If you need any help or advice, DM me!

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✦‎۟ Warning~!✦‎۟

This blog may contain cursing and heavy topics such as mental breakdowns, Violence, panic attacks, and stuff similar to that. Mod is a adult, but keep sexual topics will be kept to a minimum due to minors might stumble on here.

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Role-playing as:

(Dogday) Sol: Ringmaster | A master of the circus domain, guiding with a firm hand and sharp wit. But something..is always odd with him..

(Bobby) Loveote: Aerial Artisan | Former enchantress of the skies, her captivating performances left audiences spellbound. What led to her retirement remains a mystery, adding allure to her legend.

(Hoppy) Cylde: Gymnastic Adventurer | Fearlessly exploring new heights and depths, with a penchant for defying gravity. While the wheel of death may be her claimed favorite, her heart truly belongs to the thrill of the gym wheel.

(Kickin') Rooster: Daredevil Dynamo | Known for his daring stunts that leave him scarred but undefeated, he embodies the spirit of resilience in the face of danger.

(Bubba) Logic: Director of Precision | The cornerstone of the circus, his ingenious planning ensures a seamless blend of safety and spectacle, essential for keeping the show running smoothly.

(Crafty) Jasmine: Enigmatic Enchanter | Weaving magic through her graceful movements, she enchants audiences with her mesmerizing performances. Yet, behind her mask lies a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

(Picky Pig) Bajie: Culinary Connoisseur | A culinary maestro who tantalizes taste buds and hearts alike, her expertise in both food and animal handling adds a touch of whimsy and delight to the circus experience.

(Catnap) Nightlight: Aerial Artistry Maestro | A seasoned clown with a timeless charm, his mastery of aerial hoop and cloud swing keeps audiences laughing and gasping in awe, ensuring his place as a beloved icon of the circus.

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Other People?

Empty....

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------------------------------------------- Mod Circus---------------------

Circus AU! Critters

In a world where the spotlight fades and the laughter echoes emptily, lies the tale of resilient spirits finding solace and purpose under the canvas of a traveling circus. These smiling critters, once disparate souls, now weave a tapestry of camaraderie amidst the neglect of their props, the decay of their food, and the echoing silence of the empty stands.

Their ringmaster, a figure of cruelty veiled in showmanship, lords over them like a dark cloud, siphoning their hard-earned coins for his vices, leaving them with little but shattered dreams and bitter disillusionment. Yet, amidst the ruins of their hopes, they persist. With over thirty determined souls, they toil tirelessly, supplementing their meager earnings with side jobs, scraping together every penny in a desperate bid to salvage their tarnished circus. But fate, it seems, has other plans. Their efforts are dashed, their dreams shattered, as their treacherous ringmaster absconds with their savings, leaving them stranded and forsaken at desolate train stations, their spirits hanging by a thread.

Just when all seems lost, a beacon of hope emerges. A man , garbed in resplendent ringmaster attire, approaches them with outstretched arms and a promise of redemption. His own circus troupe having disbanded, he seeks to breathe new life into their weary souls, offering them a chance to join him under the canopy of his enchanted circus. It's a leap of faith, a gamble against the odds,

but in the depths of their despair, they find themselves drawn to this man who weaves tales of magic and wonder. And so, with hesitant hearts and trembling hands, they take their first step into a world where the impossible reigns supreme, where dreams take flight on wings of stardust, and where, perhaps, they will find the family they've longed for amidst the flickering lights of the circus tent.

[You can draw version of them! Please credit me for the characters/Aus]

-------Mod Circus Baby---------

[azems-familiar]

Mimodi

did this for Seika, since they start in Ul'dah and Lelesu doesn't, haha. ~1k words, most of it under the cut for length!

The Quicksand’s evening bustle is like a heartbeat, steady and rhythmic and pulsing with Ul’dah’s lifeblood. Momodi watches it all from her place behind the bar, listening to the scattered conversations she can hear - at one table an adventuring party discusses the next job they want to pick up, at the end of the bar a lalafell thamauturge flirts with the burly roegadyn woman next to her, in the corner of the room a pair of Brass Blades are making their way through their fourth round of the night; earlier she’d overheard them mentioning Lolorito’s coin, and had filed that away for later. Whatever he’s planning, she’ll keep an eye and an ear out, and relay anything of import to Papashan - it’s always in her best interest to keep the Sultansworn apprised of whatever the Monetarists are up to, and let them decide if they want to intervene or not. Affairs of state are only her business when she picks up gossip on them.

But they’ve got a missing crown, and the Syndicate once again pushing for more power, so if Lolorito’s bribing some of the Blades…well. 

The thaumaturge seems to be making some progress in her flirting - she waves Momodi over and asks for a round for the two of them on her tab, which Momodi fills with a wink - there’s some line about learning the secrets of the craft that’s terribly cheesy but makes the mercenary eye her with undisguised interest. Momodi chuckles to herself, leaning on the bar and noting the drinks down in her book, and as she glances up again she catches the sound of the front door opening over the voices.

The woman who steps in is one Momodi has never before seen in Ul’dah - she would remember an au ra adventurer, as rare a sight as that is in Eorzea. This one’s got pearlescent tan scales all across her face, arms, neck, and chest, peeking out from her sturdy brown traveling attire, and even from across the room the pale purple limbal rings in her eyes catch the lamplight and glow with it. Dark reddish-brown hair that fades to pale green frames her face and is pulled back from her head in two long tails, and she carries a sword of solid steel on her hip and a round shield on her back, walking like someone familiar with the weight of them. An adventurer, there’s no doubt about it…but there’s some indefinable quality about her that draws attention, beyond the strangeness of her horns and scales. She almost seems to glow with a light from within, something neither heard nor seen but felt.

Fairy tales and fantasy, Momodi wants to scoff, but that don’t explain the hole in her memory when she thinks of those heroes who fell at Carteneau, does it?

Conversation dies down for a moment as the newcomer weaves her way carefully between the tables, walking with a light step, then picks back up again in a flurry of furious whispering. The adventurer ignores all of it with a practiced ease, stopping in front of the bar, then hesitates a moment.

“Welcome to the Quicksand,” Momodi greets with her customary cheer, and shoos away another customer she knows is only here to gawp. “What can I get ya?”

“Wymond sent me to you,” the adventurer answers, and ah, of course he had. “I’m new to Ul’dah, and…looking for work. He said you could aid me with both of those things.”

Her voice is soft, and lilted in a way that takes Momodi a moment to place as Ishgardian, which raises a whole lot of questions she’s not so sure she needs or wants the answers to. Since the Calamity, Ishgardians don’t make their way into Eorzea unless they’ve got any other choice - some fled the snows, or poor fortune, but the majority are either disgraced, runaways, or so-called heretics…or a mix of all three. And a dragon-blooded girl raised up in that city? Poor thing.

“Well, he was right,” Momodi says, nodding with emphasis and gesturing for the girl to sit. She does, after a moment, and Momodi rummages around under the counter to bring out her Guild records, humming to herself. “I don’t just run the Quicksand - I’m in charge of the Adventurers’ Guild here in Ul’dah, and if you’re willin’ to answer some questions about what sort of work you’re lookin’ for, and your skills, I can get you on record and start makin’ connections between you and any patrons what might have a use for you. I’ll need a name for that, though, Miss…?”

She startles slightly, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Up this close, Momodi can see that her eyes are a dark indigo - lovely color, really, she’s a striking young woman. “...Seika,” she says. “Seika Valeriant - I’m an Ishgardian-trained paladin with a grasp on the fundamentals of spellwork, and an attunement to Light-aspected magic.”

Light magic? Well, isn’t that just rare…and Momodi thinks of her initial impression of Seika and wonders, even as she notes the adventurer’s name and skills down on an empty page of her log. The little customary interview and lecture on the basics of Ul’dah and adventuring go by quickly enough, and Seika pays for dinner and a drink and tucks herself onto a stool at the opposite end of the bar from the thaumaturge (who, halfway through, comes over to settle her tab with a pleased expression on her face, the mercenary standing as well and waiting for her). Momodi serves her up and settles back in for the rest of the evening, and keeps wondering all the while.

She’s been in this business for a long time, after all, and she’s got instincts aplenty from it - and looking at Seika, all she can think of is that this one is going to bring change wherever she walks. Whatever reasons have brought her to their desert rose of a city, whatever she’s running from, whatever it is about her that puts Momodi in mind of the long-lost Warriors of Light…something is coming, following along in this adventurer’s wake.

She just has to hope Ul’dah is ready for it.

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 20

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

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

Genre: Adventure/Romance

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

Notes:

Part two of the three chapter split!

I was spamming @fistfuloftarenths bits of this way back in February. We get a little bit of Sal in this chapter, if you wanna read more of him check out her fic de diversis artibus.

Another lovely beta is of course the kindly @dustdeepsea who's Rugan story Gods and Monsters has our dear old man in this cut content bad ending with a very kickass Tav. (Part of the Trouble Will Find Me series.)

And last but not least @captainsigge who is a one woman hype squad. Be sure to check out her tumblr which has an inspiring collection of Rugan video edits <3

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut~

New Tricks - Chapter Twenty

Goulcrest was a small village that sat roughly Northeast of Baldur's Gate. So named for its proximity to the fields of the dead, though it saw little in the way of actual ghouls.

They had made good time on the road from the Gate despite all the mud from spring rains. Thankfully the ground had dried out by the last leg of their journey. Rugan supposed there was something to be said for a small crew. They had made a short stop for lunch. Bellar and Olly had gone to take a piss before they set back out, while Rugan and Sal remained with the wagon by a small copse of trees.

When he was certain Bellar was out of earshot he turned to Salazon.

“Sal, would you send Izzy for me?” 

He had planned to leave a letter at the Elfsong before they left for Elturel regardless, but still he was anxious about missing Iz.

“For one hundred tarenths I will.”

“A hundred! Last time it was fifty.” Rugan replied indignantly.

“Yeah well, second to last time I sent you, you told me to sod off.”

“That was months ago, you spiteful imp.” Leave it to a wizard to hold a grudge.

“I've loans to pay off, as you well know.”

Grudgingly, Rugan rifled through his coin purse and began counting out the coins one by one. 

Sal let out an exasperated sigh at his slow progress. “Here just let me do it, you're terrible at counting.”

“So you can cheat me more than you already have? Not bloody likely.” Rugan went back to the pile and began counting again from one.

“What are you doing?!” Sal asked aghast.

“You made me lose count,” came the saucy reply.

“Oh for Helm’s sake.” Sal hissed. “Just what do you want to say to her?”

“Tell her I might be some days late to meet her in the Gate on account of the job. But I'll come as soon as I can.”

Sal gave a deep intake of breath and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. Rugan watched as the wizard's hands contorted into strange gestures as he cast the spell. After several long moments Sal opened his eyes.

“She says she'll wait for you at the Elfsong, she doesn't have any other jobs lined up after this one.”

“She will?” The smile was broad across Rugan's face. He went back to hastily counting the coins, but Sal held out his hand.

“Forget the coin, this is too painful to watch. Just ask her to put in a nice word with Corra.”

“Ah, I can get you talking to a more local girl, but if you insist. Buy you a drink too.” 

If Sal was a better Zhent he would've pressed Rugan for more favours while the man was feeling generous, alas he was not. 

“It's a deal.”

+++++

It had been another two days' travel before they finally reached Goulcrest. While there had been no proper road leading up from the highway, the paths connecting it  to the local farms were better maintained. They followed one of these now to an abandoned farmstead farther apart from the others. Strange place to retrieve a delivery, but coin was coin.

Rugan and Olly were in the wagon today while Bellar and Salazon were on horseback. The group often rotated but Salazon was always given the blue-eyed chestnut mare when riding. The creature was particularly unflappable around casting compared to others of its ilk.

As the party approached they could hear raised voices emanating from their destination.

“Sounds like trouble up ahead,” said Bellar astride his mount, hand already on the hilt of his blade.

Straining his ears, Olly scrunched his face in concentration, leaning forward in his seat at the front of the new wagon.

“I don’t hear any blades.” By now the ring of steel had become an unmistakable sound to the young recruit.

“Nor I,” agreed Rugan from the driver's seat. “Still, best to play it safe.” He looked to a mounted Sal who nodded in affirmation, readying a spell just in case.

As the party drew closer the voices became more discernible.

“That isn't what we agreed upon.” A woman's voice, straining with anger, somehow familiar.

“You've already been paid upfront.” A man's voice this time. Rugan could easily imagine the sneer its owner must be wearing.

“I’ve been paid half upfront as outlined in the contract, and now that the job is done I expect the second half.”

“Work can't be half as hard as you say seeing as you finished early. So you get half the pay.”

“How many antiquarians have you brought down here before me? Ones that didn't even finish the job? At least two that I know of.”

“Isn't that—?” Olly began as they crested the hill, the figures of a dark-haired man and woman came into view.

“Take the reins, lad.” Handing over the leather straps to Olly, Rugan hopped off the ambling caravan and made his way towards the arguing duo.

“Just one of those urns is worth twice what you agreed to pay me. So give me my due.” Her voice was even but Rugan noted that the fingertips of one hand were glowing ever so slightly.

“Don't push your luck, girl. I could bury you back in those tombs and then it would take another three antiquarians just to find your corpse.” The man was snarling contemptuously.

“Luck indeed,” Rugan interjected. “Inauspicious to start a job with violence though.” 

Izzy stared at him dumbfounded, rage temporarily forgotten as he approached. Her verbal sparring partner smirked, mistaking her confusion for fear.

Rugan came to stand beside the two with a sidelong look to Izzy before he turned his attention to the man. She seemed to take his meaning, making no move to let show their familiarity with one another.

‘Good, lass.’ He thought. ‘My clever lass.’

“Grim, I take it?” It could have been his real name, common enough among Chondathans, but Rugan had a feeling the man had chosen it to sound tough.

“That's right.” Grim extended his hand to Rugan who took it readily. “You our Zhent escort then?”

“I am indeed.”

“You're early, I like that.”

“Funny, not what you said a minute ago,” came Izzy's sharp tongue.

‘My short-tempered lass.’ Rugan worked hard to suppress the look he wanted to shoot her.

“That the cargo?” Rugan glanced over at a group of ceramic vases and statues clustered under a tarp to the far side of the camp.

“That’s right, we weren't expecting you for another few days, but I can have the boys pack them up in a jiff.”

“No need to rush, it's already late in the day so we won't be setting back out tonight. Wouldn't want anything to break if they’re requiring special care.”

This gave Grim pause, he looked to Izzy for an answer.

“Really?” She crossed her arms.

“Throw in an extra twenty electrum for you, little worm.” Grim sneered.

“That's not even close to–”

Rugan held out his hand. “Perhaps in the spirit of cooperation we should forgive past debts. If we're all going to be on the road together, that is.”

“Fine.” She bit out through gritted teeth.

Grim was grinning broadly, confident ‘his’ Zhent sellsword had cowed the woman.

“We'll help with the loading up.” Rugan turned back to the waiting Zhents with a sharp whistle. “Bring ‘er round Olly!”

“Why don't you show him what needs to be done, Alyssa?” Grim smirked.

Wordlessly, Izzy stalked off to the tarp set-up at the side of the farmstead, Rugan followed one step behind.

When they were finally out of earshot she groaned and braced her arms against an open crate, hanging her head low.

“I'm so bloody sick of dealing with this shite on every job.”

Rugan positioned himself such that the two other tomb raiders milling about the camp wouldn't see when he placed his hand on the small of her back.

“There now, lass, it can't be helped. Thugs like these only respect a sword arm. Business at the end of a blade as it were.”

“I always seem to be getting the short end of the stick on that one.” She gave a shuddering sigh as she tried to regain her composure. Rugan's hand smoothed over her back in a tight circle, easing some of the tension she had been holding in.

“Do these actually need any special care or?”

“Hah, no they're just bloody vases mostly. Some bits of statuary.” She swiped at the sweat of her brow. “I mean, do take more care with them than these damned fools. That one urn there was in perfect condition when we found it and now it's got a big split up the side because they thought it was faster to roll it down the stairs.”

“Thought you liked this stuff.”

“I do.” She sounded mournful, almost wounded. “Just can't afford to be precious about it. These bastards aren't exactly museum curators.” She let out another long sigh.

“This frippery really worth as much as you say?”

“Yes, if you can sell them directly in Athkatla, that is. Nobles there are so obsessed with appearances.”

“Vases get them all puffed up, do they?”

“If it's from some ancient temple or Elven villa? Absolutely. I've even seen people pay decently for known fakes, so long as they thought it would fool their party guests.”

“Fucking nobles.” He chuckled at the absurdity.

“Fucking nobles.” She agreed and gave him a tired smile.

“Feeling better, lass?”

“A little. I'm glad it's you that's come.”

“Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble.” With one last gentle press he removed his hand from her and stepped back. “I'll talk to the lads, get sorted on supplies.”

Izzy nodded in response and went back to inspecting the ceramics as he turned to leave.

+++++

“That your girl, innit?” Bellar's voice was low and conspiratorial as Rugan returned to the wagon.

“Aye, going by Alyssa, and as far as we're concerned she's a stranger.”

“Why's that? I like Iz.” Disappointment coloured Olly's voice.

“Well it's a conflict of interest, isn't it?” supplied Sal. “And we don't need our clients knowing that.”

“Suppose that makes sense.”

“Will it be a conflict though?” Bellar looked to Rugan.

“No need for it to come to that.” Rugan did his best to sound reassuring. “We've come to do a job after all. I've volunteered us to help with the loading up.”

“‘Course you have,” muttered Bellar.

Rugan continued on as if he hadn't heard. “Goods are fragile so we're going to need a lot of straw.”

“I saw a farm with hay back the way.” Olly gestured with his thumb.

“Right.” Rugan retrieved a few coins from his purse and handed them to Olly. “Buy what hay you can off them, and if it's not enough, inquire about their neighbours. Bound to be enough around here.”

“Sure.”

“Oh and Olly,” His voice lower now so as not to be overheard. “Take ‘Alyssa’ with you, see what she can tell you about this crew and their affiliations.”

Olly nodded and Rugan put up his hand to flag Izzy down.

“Guess you want us to help with the boxes?” Bellar sighed.

“I do, but don't go working too hard, it's supposed to be their job. Just use it as an excuse to get to chatting with them.”

“Wasn't planning on working hard at all.”

Sal chuckled before agreeing. “We can handle that.”

“You couldn't handle a paperweight,” Bellar clucked as he and Sal moved to approach the raiders.

“Surprised you know what a paperweight is,” came Sal’s counter.

Rugan turned as Izzy approached, his volume increasing enough that they could be overheard. “Lass, my boy Olly here is going to help with fetching supplies if you could direct him.”

“Of course.” She maintained a neutral expression as she climbed up into the driver's box next to Olly, and they set off without a backward glance. Rugan watched them disappear back down the dirt road, relieved to have Izzy away from this lot even for just a little while. 

+++++

As the party set to work, Rugan had made note of the derelict farm's surroundings. The barn was locked up tight with fresh chains, the gleaming metal sat in stark contrast to the many rusted tools laying about. There was also a fresh pile of dirt outside the barn. No doubt the excavation site lay inside.

On closer inspection it was easy to see the farmstead had been built on top of some sort of ruins. Fragments of an old stone wall jutted out from the earth in places, and he recognized those same stones being repurposed in the property's dilapidated farmhouse.

Wandering the perimeter where the length of the field met the edge of the forest, Rugan noticed something else peculiar. A few more short mounds of dirt, these were about seven or eight feet long and five or six hand spans wide. New work, but the dirt had coalesced from the recent rains. They hadn't been dug in the last ten-day, but likely some time this past month.

It had already been late afternoon when they had first arrived, and it was dusk by the time they had finished assembling enough boxes for the cargo. Introductions had been made, and stories swapped between the two groups.

Olly and Izzy had also returned, and both addressed each other cordially. Rugan was glad that while the pair of them were generally terrible liars when questioned directly, they were at least passable at playing pretend.

“Sal,” Rugan called from his position leaning against the barn. The wizard turned to regard him, and he jerked his head to the side indicating Sal should follow. When the pair had rounded the corner away from prying eyes, Rugan slipped into the Zhentil dialect as an added precaution.

“I want you or Olly with Iz at all times.”

“Any particular reason? Besides Grim’s less than stellar first impression I mean.”

“Aye, think I've found their previous contractors buried round back.”

Sal let out a long exasperated breath. “Even when I get put on the easy jobs someone's getting merc’d.”

“Sometimes that's what makes them easy.” Rugan forced a smirk to cover the undercurrent of anxiety he felt trying to fight its way to the surface.

“We can watch her, I'll talk to Olly about it. Sure you don't wanna keep an eye on her yourself?”

“Be too obvious.” He sighed, though he wasn't sure if it would be him or Iz that would falter in the charade.

Sal nodded in understanding, and the pair rejoined the others.

It was an hour or so later when Grim came to sit where Rugan and Bellar were quietly eating by the fire.

“Mind if I join you lads?”

“We're nothing if not hospitable.” Rugan put on his most congenial smile, gesturing to the empty spot on the log beside him.

“Couldn't help but notice your boys trying to cozy up to the little book fucker.” Grim nodded towards the other end of the farmstead campsite where Olly and Sal were quietly speaking with Izzy.

“Ah well, pretty thing like that might make for good company on the road. Can't fault the lads for making the best of it.”

“I'd save my breath if I were them, she's as frigid as they come. Probably as dry as those musty books she lugs around too.”

“Didn't have any luck, I take it?” Rugan chuckled and Bellar watched him obliquely. Though his friend’s face was plastered with a smile, Bellar recognized the anger simmering under the surface.

“Don’t expect anyone to have much luck with a creature more harpy than human. Would you believe she even put traps around her tent at night?”

“You're joking.” Rugan laughed. “I'll have to take you to a proper festhall when we get to the city.”

Grim began rambling on about some misadventures he’d had in the Heartlands over the years. Rugan was only half listening, but he laughed and nodded along in the appropriate places.

Bellar, for his part, was conspicuously quiet, watching Rugan from behind an enthusiastic Grim's shoulder. He didn't speak up until the raider had finally wandered off to chat to his square-jawed compatriot.

“How do you want to handle this?” Bellar moved to take Grim's spot, voice low, watching the raiders as he spoke.

“We're professionals, and we'll behave like it.”

“Will we?”

“Sure, so long as he doesn't raise my ire any further.” Rugan's voice was low and closer to a growl than he would like to admit.

Bellar gave a short dry laugh. “Somehow that seems like a foregone conclusion.”

“Aye, doesn't it just?” A wry smile curled the corners of Rugan's mouth.

+++++

There were no more surprises when setting up camp that night. Sal and Olly dutifully planted their shared tent beside Izzy's and Rugan made a mental note to buy them plenty of drinks at the next opportunity. Grim also seemed to take note of the current arrangement, and while his sour expression gave away his feelings on the matter he was wise enough to not make a complaint. At least not yet.

Watches were organised, and Rugan volunteered himself and Olly to take the last one. Late enough that most of the camp would be deep asleep.

When he felt confident the previous shift wouldn't rouse he turned to Olly for a debriefing of his ride with Iz. He tried to use the coded dialect as he had with Sal.

“What was her read on the group?” Rugan asked, absently poking at the fire.

“She said Grim’s a—umm brag-bragga—? A trumpet?” Olly’s tongue twisting over the words before switching back to common with a frustrated sigh.

“Rugan, can we just do this in common?”

Rugan sighed and rolled his shoulders. The boy was still new to the tongue, and while he understood others well enough his own responses were often stilted and abrupt in this way. They weren't going to get far if Olly stumbled every third word.

“Fine, but keep your voice down, lad. Don't need anyone catching wind of this.”

“Right, so Grim’s a swank.”

“Gathered that much from his tales, go on.”

Olly went on to describe the other crew members. The big meaty bastard with rust coloured hair was Friss. He rarely spoke but was constantly surveilling the others. The scrawny lad was Soren, the youngest of three. Smaller than the others and habitually bullied by them. 

Most importantly, there had been no evidence of them being part of a larger guild or network. Rugan considered this a bit of good luck. Less complications if things played out the way he thought they might.

“This group doesn't exactly seem well read, did she know how they found this place?”

“Apparently robbed some noble on the road, and that's how they found out about the ruins. The rich fellow, he'd done some family research and thought his ancestors used to tend a temple here.”

“What happened to the fellow?”

Olly shrugged. Likely dead and Rugan didn't wanna be in the vicinity in case any fancy relatives came looking.

“Right then, I want you to see what inroads you can make with Soren.”

“Me? I'm no spy.”

“You're close in age, he'll want to talk to you. Don't think of it as some daring thing, just tell him some stories so he opens up a touch. Complain about us a bit.”

“Complain about you?”

“Puts folks at ease if you open up first. If he's got issues with his crew he'll be champing at the bit to say so.”

Olly nodded in understanding. “Alright, I'll try.” Then after a beat. “Suppose there is lots to complain about.”

Rugan huffed. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that last bit.”

+++++

It was a small group as caravans went, only the two wagons, eight people and seven horses. Two horses were hitched to each wagon.

Still, the way was slower going now that their numbers had doubled, especially with the wagons heavily weighted down by vases and small bits of statuary.

To make matters worse, Grim had taken a shine to Rugan. The Zhent’s days were frequently spent feigning interest in one of Grim's oft repeated adventures.

“You know I thought of becoming a Zhent,” Grim would say. “Yeah, seriously considered that, but I enjoy being my own boss too much.” Even Grim's own people looked like they had to bite their tongue when that one was repeated. It was true that the Zhentarim recruited all sorts, but Rugan doubted such a loud-mouth would go a month before finding a knife in his back.

“Used to run with the thieves out of Beregost,” Grim stated matter of factly one morning ‘round breakfast. “They were really small-time though. Yeah didn't wanna expand out of the ‘gost.” Rugan had to fight hard to choke down a laugh when he saw Bellar mouthing ‘the gost’ over Grim’s shoulder. Nobody fucking called Beregost that, and if they did Rugan would eat Olly's scarf.

That particular story seemed to set off Sal, who had over the winter become an expert on all things Amnian.

“Small time!” He had whisper-shouted at Rugan during their watch that night.

“They're a branch of the Shadow Thieves of Amn! The very same that Izzy warned us about in Crimmor. This isn't embellishment anymore, it's outright disinformation.”

Rugan thought enduring that particular story was worth it just to see how it frustrated Sal.

Grim's constant hovering also interfered with Rugan's other tasks. It was near impossible to go over a manifest with his constant nattering. His tinny voice followed Rugan as he inspected wheels and tarps. He couldn't even take a leak without Grim sidling up beside him at some random tree. 

Worst of all, it made it near impossible to sneak a glance at Iz. The most he got to see of her was when he was sitting in the driver seat of the wagon. She sat quietly beside him while they studiously ignored one another, though on more than one occasion she had rested her hand on his knee when Grim’s crew were preoccupied. He could almost pretend they were alone in those moments, sometimes he even dared to place his hand on top of hers.

It was usually at such times that Grim would come riding up to tell Rugan how the Flaming Fist had tried to recruit him, had begged him to join on bended knee. 

“Couldn’t meet my salary expectations though.” Grim would say as Rugan and Izzy surreptitiously disengaged.

At least Olly had made inroads with Soren—the pair often rode side by side at the head of the party, sometimes laughing over some shared joke.

+++++

Rugan was busy tacking up his horse one morning when Bellar spoke up.

“Don't look now, but your best mate is coming round.” He chuckled before wandering off.

Rugan sighed as he finished inspecting his saddle. It seemed Grim was intent on talking his ear off the whole journey back to the Gate.

“Good day to be on the road,” greeted Grim.

Every day on the road with Grim felt like the worst day of his life. “That it is indeed.”

“Now, Zhent, I can see that you're a professional.”

“Aye, that if nothing else.” Rugan agreed with a smile that did not touch his eyes. 

“Can't say the same for your lads.” Grim turned and Rugan followed the man's gaze to where Izzy and Sal were brushing the latter's horse. Rugan chose not to comment.

“Now see, I've a little business proposition for you,” Grim continued.

“Go on then.” He said, knowing full well Grim was about to say something he wouldn't like.

“Well…” Turning back to Rugan, Grim lowered his voice and leaned in close. The man was so obvious about what he was doing it almost seemed like a parody of secrecy. “Seems a waste of supplies to have an extra body around when her part’s already done.”

“You wanna dump the girl in Goulcrest?” Rugan hoped that was all, but he knew better.

“Why part with the coin? Overpriced as she was, even at half the contract. Better to just dump the body in a ditch.” He swiped a dark strand of hair behind his ear with a lopsided grin. Rugan imagined himself dashing Grim’s face against a stone wall, till that grin was broken and jagged.

“That would be outside the terms of our established contract.” His voice was silken, even as he felt himself gritting his teeth. “You've paid us to protect the merchandise, no more, no less.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Half her coin is yours when the job is done.”

“Respectfully—” Respect was in fact the last thing he felt for Grim. “No.”

And even if it hadn't been Iz, if it had been some passerby he had no compunctions over killing, even then he would've expected to keep the full purse plus fee. 

“Just think it over, it's a good chunk of coin.” Grim clapped him on the shoulder before wandering back to his own horse.

“Still want to be professional?” Bellar, who had of course been eavesdropping, appeared at Rugan’s side. “Not particularly, but we’ll see if he drops the issue.” Rugan tried to shake out the tension in his shoulders as he said it. “Doubt it.” Bellar chuckled before mounting his own horse. Rugan had a feeling Bellar was right and a vengeful part of him looked forward to it.

[mrgladstonegander]

How will the characters be portrayed in DT47 compared to DT87, and DT17?

to be honest i havent really watched enough of dt87 to say 😅im drawing more inspiration from dt17 + the comics

I do have some thought-out differences for some characters though! :)

I'd do more characters but I don't have everything set in stone completely yet .

these links have more up to date information : phantom and the sorceress / specter of the past , phantom blot/rorschach specter

doodled this a while ago but scrooge / graham are different in terms of ... business practices. DT17!Scrooge is whitewashed (in the traditional sense) from the comics (dt87!scrooge moreso from what i know). but i personally think that scrooge's penny pinching debt collecting personality in the comics can still be fun (+creates conflict) but ALSO . personally. I don't really think it's good to say you can be the Richest Person Ever while still having good ethics. ESPECIALLY when said billionaire collects and takes artifacts from other cultures

Graham (dt47 scrooge) remembers debts extremely well, and always puts himself in situations where people would become indebted to him (even family). he takes contracts and small print very seriously. he also has the same issue of hoarding all his treasures in his house or money bin, and separates them by how useful they are to him (like, say, if there was a magical Papyrus that can be used to make contracts that Bind things... cough cough)

honestly i think that dt17!scrooge's aversion to magic felt slightly contradictory at times? considering how much he collects/uses them

i dont remember if it was ever said in the show, but while Graham likes adventuring, I don't think he does it just for the sake of adventure. He wants treasure, but he also wants to give the kids (dt47 donald/della/hdl/webby etc) an experience and let them travel because he remembers being poor and how many things he wasn't able to do. but with this mindset he doesn't recognize that it's his fault when they start getting bad coping mechanisms or tiring themselves out trying to keep up/impress him

but i think the most major difference between dt17 and dt47 is this; Scrooge built the Spear of Selene, and did everything he could to try and bring Della back. DT17's narrative, even with Last Crash, does not put the blame on him; he didn't really do anything wrong. but for dt47 i REALLY want to emphasize how many people Phoebe (Della)'s disappearance affected - and the lengths that Graham went to hide it. I made a chart a while ago that shows how Phoebe's disappearance affects people and Gyro/Beakley's equivalents (the ones with the red star) have specific gag orders that Do NOT allow them to say anything about it. The cousins (INCLUDING PERCY) only know that she disapearred, Oliver/Gladstone trusts Percy/Donald's judgement that it's Graham's fault, and Frankie tries to understand things from both sides with no avail. Graham forcing Archie to keep quiet about it does not go well at all, especially with how guilty Archie feels about building the rocket

tldr; tries to make people owe him so that he always has leverage, uses magical artifacts to build his business, has bad coping mechanisms regarding his childhood (that lead to him being adventurous, untrusting, penny pinching etc), and he really sucks for how much he's burying what to phoebe. ALSO i forgot to mention but he doesn't really have a money bin in the traditional sense. I want to give him the world's most complete coin collection to make him seem slightly more insane in a different way.

. ok realizing that this is really long and you're asking how they're portrayed and not just the differences. heres some quicker comparisons

(please read the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde)/ (the poor thing has anxiety because of valerie (beakley's) teachings)

this post is still consistent with what i have planned for team science + archie

[drakeanddice]

Mausritter this week was light on adventuresome hijinks, truth be told. The Waywatchers have been away from their home in Fox Cross for a full week (rigorous timekeeping being a key pillar of Old School play, y’know) and the dangers and treasures of the world had them bending their feet back to their beginnings.

Dragging all the treasure their little mouse backs could carry, they spent the first hour of game night hiking from the southern extremity of The Patch to the very north, reminiscing about the things they missed most about home. Birch, being not just Team Dad but a consummate family mouse, told stories about his wife and nine children. Fennel reminisced about Grampus, the de facto lynchpin of Fox Cross’ Guild of Messengers, a gruff and vaguely put-upon iconoclast of the Patch’s erstwhile postal system. Bindi, thinking always with her stomach, wondered about the first marzipan of the season (made by Marni, Birch’s wife in their family shop) and how Chester, the retired sewer-guide who runs the Waystone Tavern was getting on.

And they all were excited to get their weekly stipend from Horatio, the town Aldermouse. Granted they were carrying more treasure than they could strictly carry, but it would be nice to have some pips in their pocket that they hadn’t had to drag out of the danger and darkness of the world beyond Fox Cross’ walls. Plus, they had plans for the spoils of their adventuring, already.

Mausritter leans into the old adventure game mechanic of treasure being experience; 1 Pip (the coin of the realm) equals 1 XP. But it does a neat thing where every 10 Pips invested in a community or spent charitably grants an additional XP. This cleverly encourages the PCs to—if you’ll excuse the terrible pun—buy in to the characters and factions that exist back in civilization, far away from the dangerous wilds. And so, financing improvements and business expansions and defenses and helping to fund the further goals of their communities is a way to advance their characters and overall shape the ongoing narrative of the world.

That’s good tech.

Anyhow, this episode was all about building a supporting cast that the players are excited to come and check in on again and again. So, Birch’s enormous family got screen time. Grampus the angry retired mail mouse got some screen time. Chester the anvuncular innkeeper got some screen time. Horatio, the harried bureaucrat Aldermouse got a little screen time.

But we also got:

-Thorne, the warhawk of a smith who was in the Regiments lo those many years ago and thinks that direct action against the problems brewing in the south is the only way to get things sorted, damned be the costs.

-Sweetgum, the local representative of the Dairybell Company who believes anything can be solved with careful application of Pips. Also, as long as problems are far away, they aren’t her problems.

-Berthold, the head of the Almondiers, the mice who tend the almond grove just north of town on the edge of the spooky Estate. He’s made of ghost stories and local legends.

-Lucretia, a caravan leader built more like a hamster than a mouse. She wears an enormous ruff and travels with a small band of adventurer mercenary-mice. She desperately wants to add the Waywatchers to her retinue.

-The Papas, five unconvincingly-disguised least weasels who run the Foxcross Ferry. They sneak in a low-country brogue and hide themselves under oilskin cloaks and nor’easters, but the fact that they were once part of a gang and are in hiding until they deem it safe to retrieve their ill-gotten gold is an open secret. One is on duty at all times. The others are engaged in a game of cards that has been going on for years. They are Tall Papa, Kind Papa, One-Eye Papa, Split Papa, and Wet Papa.

All in all, a cozy session with a goldmine of characterization and hinting at plots that could be coming down the pipeline. Next week, we’re taking the first pigeon out of town and back down to Swamp Farm to consult with the Speaker-for-Ghosts. Hopefully we’ll meet Tam down there and we’ll be back to adventure.

Sometimes a breather and a little bit of downtime is exactly what you need to get the pot back to boiling.

[blu-orb]

Honestly very intrigued by pantheon smp but I haven't played minecraft in a hot minute (kh hyperfix hit HARD). would you mind talking a little bit more about it? Like what sort of gods are there and who are they, how do they interact with people, how important they are to playing? Do individual players have individual gods or are there more groups? Is it an server that's easy to take a break from?

Thanks so much <3

OK OK SO. hitting a read more on this one because we're DELIGHTED to get so many questions this might get a bit rambly

SO ok the pantheon has. a main pantheon of gods, with no side gods

There is: Sea, the God of the ocean and technology! they/them pronouns, loud and LOYAL to those they consider a friend. the kind to stare you down because you made a REALLY COOL redstone machine.

Conflict, the God of harvest, conflict, and blood sacrifice, but she's also got pretty strong ties to protection and loyalty. she/they pronouns. she isn't actually a god that encourages war, despite what her name may make you think. she herself leans more on the side of protection, and doesn't really instigate any fights.

Forage, the God of forage and the hunt! she/they pronouns as well! a god that likes to watch mortals, and is rather friendly when you encounter her. unless you upset them. and well you don't want to upset them. she's got a fun two sides of one coin /pos thing going with conflict that we ADORE in regards to domains and vibes

Monstera! God of monsters and fear, she/her pronouns. a very quiet god who holes up in her own little area, but if you upset her somehow despite that you'll Know

Creation! God of life, birth, healing, AND (natural) death! he/him pronouns. a god that holes up and hides a lot but when he's being social he's being *social*. many contrasts contained in this one.

Color, the god of. well. color! He/him. a very... chaotic god, this one. constant, constant antics. never a dull moment with color, and that isn't necessarily a good thing.

Travel, the God of travel and trade! they use they/them pronouns. a wanderer, who never stays in one place too long. ALWAYS an interesting encounter, even by godly standards (at least, in our opinion)

The Unknown, one of many names. God of mysteries and secrets. a god that's hard to find, and perhaps you do not *want* to find it, if you are not a follower. following the unknown is a path that may lead to dangerous knowledge, and once you learn you can never unlearn

Chance!! (HIII THIS IS OUR SPECIAL LITTLE GOD!!) The God of music and chance! Any pronouns, keep shuffling them, keep that fresh. a god who constantly watches, and is rarely seen. if you listen, though, you may hear vem. if you surround yourself in song, you will likely catch the eye of this god, and if you're in its favor you WILL know. chance has a funky two sides of the same coin/neg relationship with the unknown, and they are BEEFING. the only two with genuine, eternal rivalry. the unknown has closed chest imagery, while chance has opening chest imagery. we could go on about this but we will not, here

bonus round!

Tangerine Boy/Tangy is NOT yet an ascended God, and is not followable, but WILL be so once he ascends. he/him pronouns. god-to-be of civilization, and love of the world. just a silly little guy under the impression he's totally mortal right now.

Gods WILL often interact with mortal characters, whether that be because that god has picked up a new little favorite, or because they feel SLIGHTED by an offense. Or because you just randomly ran into a god. that happens with some sometimes. it's fine.

They're pretty important to playing, but mostly in a "what gods you follow will flavor how your character interacts with the world in a way, or vice versa" way! for example, we have a character who's planned to constantly engage with the archaeology aspect of minecraft, and they follow Sea, Travel, and Chance! Sea because... "Please don't make the oceans maul me while i'm at underwater sites", Travel for safety in traveling the many blocks they go, and Chance for luck! There's also an offering area when the server is up, and messing with that usually adds both fun lore AND gameplay aspects.

people usually end up with individual worship, or using the collective shrines! tho if you asked us as a god we'd looove to see more people doing more group worship things and engaging with the godly aspect of the server like that. but individual worship is fun! a mortal can follow multiple gods, but watch out! if you follow the wrong set you might get beefing gods around you.

It's relatively easy to take a break from, yeah! the server gameplay wise isn't going to rush towards major game milestones, and in fact the end is LOCKED until a major, in lore event regarding the gods called Dragon Day! at the same time, if you want to wither fight a ton PRIVATELY for beacons that's also allowed, when the server's open. it's very much focused on being a slow, player interaction roleplay focused server.

We're all working on upgrading the modpack, and finding a set of mods that is both fun for everyone AND is able to be played on low end computers, so right now is the great preparation time! plenty of time to sit and ask questions about the setting, and make a character with no rush.

in fact, if you have further questions, and the interest, there are multiple questions channels in the discord, or if you're not ready for that, we know we've got a couple of the other mods of the server who got SO excited upon learning you asked so many questions, and they'd be glad to answer any you may have in comments/reblogs of this post!

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Ready To Run

Author: Inkblooded Witch

Artist: CrzyDemona

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Jimmy/Balthazar, Benny/Meg, Bobby/Ellen, Sam/Eileen, Ishim/Naomi, mentioned past Dean/Others.

Length: 114500

Warnings: Cannon-grade violence, dub-con.

Tags: Western AU, Omegaverse, Set Primarily in 1875, Angst with Happy Ending, Dean Has Anger Issues, Slow Burn, Fluff, Smut, Collar AU, Alcohol Consumption.

Posting Date: October 27, 2023

Summary:   Castiel and Jimmy have always been close, on opposite sides of a single coin. While Jimmy’s rebellions have been loud, blatantly throwing every indiscretion in their father’s face, Castiel’s have been quiet, easier to hide, less publicly embarrassing. For this reason it’s no surprise when he is slated to be married off first. Something they’re informed of right as Jimmy has decided he wants to marry Balthazar, an Alpha he’s been courting on the sly for some time.    Neither of them have been optimistic about their fates should they be left to their father’s tender mercies. Castiel knows that once Jimmy is gone, he will be next. He likes Balthazar, and sees no reason why they should both be condemned, so they hatch a plan. While Jimmy elopes and boards a steamer to Europe, Castiel boards a train to Nebraska as his twin.    Knowing your life will never be the same is one thing, but Castiel never could have predicted what chaos would come of him getting on that train. Starting when plans to slip away before he reaches his intended destination quickly go awry.

Excerpt:   “I’m marrying Balthazar.”    His brother’s teacup froze halfway to his lips. “You’re what?”    “We’ve been planning it for weeks anyway, we’ll just have to hurry things along. I won’t stay here, brother, I can’t. You know that as well as I do.”    “Why didn’t you tell me Balthazar asked you to marry him?” Castiel protested, setting his cup down.    “Actually, I asked him,” Jimmy admitted, smiling sheepishly. “Bal took it rather well. He did ask that he be allowed to propose with a ring he gets to surprise me with.”    Castiel beamed, rising to come around and embrace his brother. Despite their mutual turmoil, Jimmy cracked a smile of his own, rising to return the hug. When they parted, he smacked Jimmy in the arm, hard.    “Ow! Hey, why- ”    “That is for not telling me,” Castiel informed him, retaking his seat. “Some brother you are. Now, how do you expect to get away with that. You’ve pulled some impressive stunts before, but this will be a true trick.”    “Bal knows where we can get a quick wedding, all we have to do is tell them I’m pregnant.”    “Are you?”    Jimmy gave him an insulted look. “I’m brazen, not foolish, brother. No, we just have to tell the priest that and he will get us married very quickly, complete with legal documentation. Which we will then take on a steamer to London.”    Castiel considered that. “I suppose you have always wanted to travel.”    “Yes, and Bal intends to show me Europe, maybe Asia. But he did promise to introduce me to his family first.”    Balthazar Grace was British by birth, the son of a rich family that allowed him to indulge in a lifestyle Jimmy also participated in. He had been seeing the Alpha for nearly a year now. Castiel had met him, and while he found the man to be…much, he clearly adored Jimmy, would give him the world if he asked. For that alone Castiel approved.    “I am happy for you, truly. But how do you expect to get away for this? You know father, he won’t trust you, he will put you on that train personally.”    “I don’t know, I just found out about all this.” Jimmy gestured vaguely with his liquor bottle, still gripped by the neck, which he began drinking out of directly. “What if he puts me on lockdown? How will I tell Bal about this?”    Castiel stared into his own cup, worrying his lip. “Father never cares what I do. I can liaison with him for you if need be.”    Jimmy paused mid-gulp, cobalt eyes sliding over to him. Slowly lowering the bottle’s mouth from his lips, tone thoughtful, he said, “You.”    “Me?”

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[hadestownreconstruction]

Noble dream and traveling bard hob au

Hob spotted the nobles almost as soon as they walk in. It would be hard not to, what with the clear skin, fine clothes, and expensive jewelry. One was tall and pale, all sharp edges and cold glares. The other seemed kinder, with pleasant dark skin and a warm smile. Almost immediately Hob was reworking his plan for the night, bringing to mind the more palatable songs he played when in good company. Pandering to the nobles may not make him so many friends, but it could land him a hefty tip, or even a commission.

With his lute tuned and his voice as ready as it would get, he started out with a simple song, something everyone would like. He played for the crowd- best not to show too much favor too soon- and got a feel for the tavern and its people. Next was something quicker, something to get the dancers up and about.

Hob played and played, putting his heart into his instrument and voice, coins slowly piling up in his empty mug. He kept the nobles in his peripheral; they watched intently and spoke to each other in hushed whispers. Hob finished the last refrain of his current song, and rested his lute against the tavern wall as he took a deep drink of the ale some patron passed to him.

“You played well.”

Hob turned and faced the source of the voice, the pale-skinned noble. Up close, the man seemed to almost glow in the light, bright eyes boring into his soul. He was tense, though, eyes flitting to every shout and crash in the crowded tavern.

“Thank you, my lord. Do you have any requests?”

At this, the noble seemed to falter.

“Yes, I- if you were to play at my manor, you would be well compensated.”

Yes! One full payment, coming right up.

“I’d be pleased to. What day?”

“Indefinitely.”

Fuck. Hob weighed his next words carefully, no use pissing off his rich new patron.

“I can play at a few events, but I travel often. I’ll be gone by next week.”

The nobles eyebrow’s twitched, the faintest hint of confusion crossing his otherwise neutral face.

“Why would you travel? My family can provide more than enough for you to never want for anything again.”

Hob paused, unsure how to answer in a way the sheltered noble would understand.

“I like to see the world. Meet new people, experience new things, live life to the fullest. Can’t exactly do that tethered to a manor, now can I?”

“You could travel when we do, if that is your desire.”

Hob bit back a sigh. How to make him understand?

“I want to live with the world, not just pass through. Everything I know, I’ve learned from the people around me. I can hardly stay in one place when there’s so much more to be known, and traveling with nobles comes with expectations that keep me from what I truly want to do.”

The noble seemed to consider this, jaw tending and relaxing as he thought. Hob couldn’t help but notice how sharp his silhouette seemed, almost unearthly in its perfect neatness in the chaos of the tavern. He wondered if the noble ever looked anything less than pristine, let himself relax even an inch. Wondered if anyone ever taught him how to live, not just be present. He found himself wishing he could be that someone.

“Would you be willing to return?”

The noble’s voice pulled him out of his contemplation.

“Pardon?”

“If I provided funds, would you be willing to return each year? I wish to know more of what appeals to you in this…” the noble wrinkled his nose as he phrases his thought, “way of life.”

Hob smiled. “In one year, then. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.”

The noble nodded, placing a leather pouch clinking with coins in Hob’s hand, then turned to leave. He and the woman he entered with talked to each other as they went, the woman smiling at him as she made her exit.

As Hob picked his lute back up, he considered the two. Such a strange pair, especially in these parts. Well, he could always find out more later. After all, it seemed he’d be back next year.

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 25- Gift

Warnings: established relationship, some lying & insecurity, this is a little angsty and I'm sorry it's just because men are stupid, thoughts of infidelity (not like that, calm down), wedding vows, reassurance

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1915

A/N: Bonus points if you can figure out what Taylor Swift song I was listening to when I wrote this

On the day of your fourth anniversary with Aaron, you wake up excited. You can hardly believe that it’s been four years since you married the perfect man; four years that you’ve taken on life together.

You’re in the mood to celebrate- maybe make him breakfast, or go out to dinner and a movie tonight after you exchange gifts- but the universe has other plans. “Good morning, honey!” Aaron calls out when he hears the bedroom door open. 

It sounds like he’s moving around the kitchen- maybe he’s beat you to the breakfast idea- and you’re just starting to open your mouth, the ‘Ha-‘ of ‘Happy anniversary’ on its way out when he says, “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got an early meeting with Strauss. Have a good day, okay?”

On the day of your fourth anniversary, your husband gives you a kiss on the cheek and hardly a second glance before he’s out the door. Great. Your excitement has mostly deflated now, and you busy yourself with getting ready for work. At least you can still go out to dinner and celebrate then, right?

You’re mostly excited to exchange gifts. You’ve managed to find an antique coin collection- one of Aaron’s favourites from his childhood (he’s complained more than once about how if he had just found one last penny he would have had the whole set)- and his favourite Scotch. His gifts always blow yours out of the water, though. He’s thoughtful and observant, a lethal combination.

Your excitement for dinner and gifts wanes down to nothing when he texts you that afternoon.

Aaron: I need to stay late and figure out these budget cuts. Not sure when I’ll be home, don’t wait up.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond. Has he forgotten your anniversary completely? It’s so unlike him, but so is this behaviour. He always tries to be around during special events. Finally, you text back after re-reading your text three times to make sure it won’t come across as annoyed.

Me: Okay. I love you

Aaron: I love you too. Don’t forget to eat.

And you don’t hear from him again that day. 

The next day, you wake up early. Aaron is snoring in bed next to you, his alarm not set to go off for nearly an hour. You’re sleepy, but you’ve officially got the jump on some late anniversary celebrations. As quietly as possible, you creep into the kitchen and start to prepare breakfast wraps for the two of you.

The eggs are sizzling in the pan when Aaron emerges from the bedroom, wearing a suit and a face full of guilt. “It smells great in here, honey.” He pulls you in for a quick kiss, and when he pulls away he still looks guilty.

Finally, he’s figured out that he missed your anniversary. Or so you think. “I’m really sorry to do this- breakfast looks delicious,” he murmurs, and there’s a familiar twist in your gut when you realize what he’s about to say. “I’ve got to get to work right away. This budget issue, it’s just impossible to get ahead of.”

“Oh.” The lump in your throat feels tangible, makes it hard to breathe, so you inhale deeply and avert your gaze. “You should get going.”

“Thanks for thinking of me, though.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple as he fills up a coffee traveller. “I’ll cook for us this weekend, or something.”

The door closes behind him, and it’s like a nail in the coffin. He forgot.

That day, he sends a similar text to the one from last night. He’ll be home late, he’s so sorry, and it’s so predictable that you don’t text back. Instead, you call Emily that night to complain about how her job is costing you your husband’s presence. 

“He’s been too busy trying to figure out this stupid budget that he forgot about our anniversary! I mean, what does that say for us? Or our future kid’s birthdays?” You complain.

Emily whistles under her breath. “Another budget issue already? Him and Strauss just finalized this year’s financial restrictions last week,” she comments. It’s so casual that she obviously doesn’t realize what she’s implying until she hears your sharp intake of breath.

You don’t know how to feel now; either the BAU is so screwed that Aaron will be in budget meetings for the rest of his life, or he’s lying to you. “What if he’s cheating on me?” You blurt out.

“Hey. Hey, keep your head on straight. He thinks you hung the sun,” Emily reminds you firmly. “Hotch doesn’t have an unfaithful bone in his body.”

It’s too much, too overwhelming; you’re too far gone to listen to her, and that’s when you hear a key turn in the door down the hallway. “I need to go,” you mumble, and then you hang up on your friend even as she tries to protest. You can apologize later.

By the time Aaron turns the corner into the living room, your eyes have blurred with tears. They make it so that you can’t see the broad smile on his face, or the parcel tucked into his arm that he sets aside with his briefcase. 

Or the smile being wiped away as soon as he sees your face. “Sweetheart? Honey, what’s wrong?” He asks.

“Are you cheating on me?” You demand more than ask, and he visibly blanches.

To say that Aaron looks blown away by your accusation is an understatement. He looks hurt, and shocked, and concerned. Concern is what radiates off of him when he rushes over to you, gathering you in his arms even when you make a half-assed attempt to push him off.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, and you jerk your head away to avoid making eye contact. A tear spills over at the motion, and he wipes it away with a hand that gently guides you to look at him. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“You didn’t even answer the question!” You’ve got no idea where this is coming from. There’s never been a single indication of Aaron cheating, even with the long hours and time away from home. You’re spiraling now, and he’s the only person who can help when you get like this, but it’s all his fault.

“No,” he says firmly, his tone erasing any trace of doubt in the air. “I’m not cheating on you. I don’t… What's going on? Why would you think that? I wouldn’t- I could never…”

“Emily told me the budget thing was resolved a week ago.” As though you can save a shred of dignity, you wipe furiously at your cheeks to erase any evidence of tears. “You lied to me. I’ve barely seen you this week, and you forgot our anniversary, and- And you lied!”

This is the big point, and you both know it. Aaron has never lied to you, and you’ve always been honest with him. If he’s lying now, staying away from home when he doesn’t need to, what changed?

When you meet his eyes again, he looks upset like you’ve never seen him. The weight of your accusation has rattled him, you can tell. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he whispers, holding you a little closer. “I would never cheat on you. I’m crazy about you, come on.”

The reassurance helps a little, one side of your mouth lifting before it drops just as quickly. “You lied to me.”

“I know I did. I felt terrible about it, you have to believe me.” He lets you go, then goes to retrieve the parcel you’ve hardly noticed until now. “It’s- Your anniversary gift came late. And I didn’t want you to think I didn’t get you anything, because you always give me the perfect gifts.”

Your eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of what he’s telling you now. “You forgot our anniversary.” Whether you’re reminding him or yourself, you aren’t sure.

“I would never forget it,” he vows, walking back to the couch with the brown paper package in one hand. “I was just… I don’t know. I was an idiot. I thought that if you thought I was busy with work, we could push back on celebrating until it arrived, and you wouldn’t know.”

“I wouldn’t know? You didn’t even acknowledge it yesterday!” Your voice raises, and Aaron pushes the package into your hands.

He sighs at that, a self-decreprating sound that hurts you as much as it hurts him. “I messed up. I know I did. I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t care, or didn’t get you something, and it backfired. I’m so sorry, honey.” The remorse on his face is real, written into every line and shining in his eyes. “I’ll never lie to you again, I promise. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

As though your hands have a mind of their own, you open the paper packaging without responding to him. “What is this?” 

“Pull it out,” he encourages, and the picture frame inside the packaging slides out into your hands when he pulls the paper.

“Oh…” You breathe out, taking in the image in the oak frame that matches the rest of your furniture. “This is…”

Words fail you; None can describe the gift. It’s a framed picture of you and Aaron on your wedding day, his arms around you while you both beam at the camera. The picture is cropped within the frame, and the words surrounding it look familiar.

“They’re our vows.” He breaks the silence tentatively. “I know I made a mistake. I never want you to think that I could so much as look at someone else. You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

Now, the tears blurring your vision are from some twist of happiness and relief. The vows have been tucked away since the wedding, out of sight, even though the promises you’ve made to love and support one another unconditionally have been realized every day.

It’s in writing, and when you look closely you realize that it’s in Aaron’s writing. He’s handwritten the vows for this, copied them all down. Every promise to love each other through the good and the bad, every pledge to be faithful in sickness and health and when work and life gets in the way, every assurance that you love each other more than you could ever bear to love anyone else; he wrote them all down, copied them out, because they’re still true. Truer than ever, maybe.

You cover Aaron’s hand with your own as he speaks again. “I am… devoted to you. I would worship the ground you walk on, if you would let me. And I vow to never lie to you again.”

When you turn your head and capture his lips in a kiss, you’re reminded of your wedding day. The spirit behind each promise you had made, and the love in your heart that’s only ever grown and flourished in the last four years.

“I love you,” you whisper, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but neither did the original vows when you said them. There are no words, nothing in any language you could learn that could begin to explain what he means to you.

The words that you’ve got in front of you will have to do.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

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[gemsofgreece]

Which old Greek movies from the 50s through 70s are the best?

Based on a combination of film critics' choices and my personal taste, here's a Top 10 + 2 in no particular order:

Η Κάλπικη Λίρα - The Counterfeit Coin (1955)

My all time favourite and always mentioned in the top 5 of film critics, if not first. It's a dramedy of four different stories connected through the creation of one counterfeit coin. A bloody genius, bittersweet film.

Ο Δράκος - The Dragon (1956)

Drama / Thriller. Starring the great comedian Dinos Iliopoulos in his only dramatic role, it's the story of a quiet, ordinary man who realises he looks a lot like a wanted criminal. When I watched this movie, I felt so much pain for the fact that Iliopoulos did not play another dramatic role... Not that he had any problems, he shone in comedy and is one of our most successful actors but he was SO good in drama. Like most great comedians, actually. I believe you can find the movie on YouTube.

Της Κακομοίρας - World Gone Mad (1963)

With a title that was never sufficiently translated to English because it's a colloquial phrase meaning something close to a "mess", it is considered the best Greek comedy, which means a lot because this is the Greek cinema's specialty. It is also known by the alternative title Ο Μπακαλόγατος which means something like a colloquial "The Grocery shop man" and it is a story about a grocery shop owner who hired the weirdest person possible as a right-hand. This movie is rated with an 8.8 in IMDb, an insane rating as comedies go. Posting a vid because this scene may kill me someday:

Στέλλα - Stella (1955)

Romantic drama. The volatile relationship between an emancipated and lively woman with a selfish and controlling man and its consequences.

Ο Θίασος - The Travelling Players (1975)

An internationally acclaimed and awarded film by the famous Greek director Theo Angelopoulos, photosets of which you might see often on Tumblr. It's a long film with the notoriously slow style of Angelopoulos, which is something you either love or hate. It is Greece's history from the '30s through the '50s, as experienced by a travelling music company.

Η Θεία Από Το Σικάγο - The Auntie From Chicago (1957)

Comedy. Calliope, a Greek expat in Chicago, USA, visits her brother's family in Greece, only to realise her retired colonel brother is a very strict and conservative father, making it very difficult for his four daughters to enjoy their youth and find love. Calliope comes up with wild plans to marry her older nieces and make her brother Charilaos more open-minded with progressively ferocious ways.

Συνοικία Tο Όνειρο - A Neighborhood Named "The Dream" (1961)

The second movie directed by famous actor Alekos Alexandrakis is now considered one of the best Greek movies with an incredible score, but back in its day it was hated and heavily censored for showcasing the struggles of the people living in a poor neighborhood in Athens, causing debts and dismay to its creator.

Το Ξύλο Βγήκε Από Τον Παράδεισο - Maiden's Cheek (1959)

Comedy. A young teacher with a humble background gets his first job in a private high school with rich and insufferably spoiled girls. While the rest of the teachers have entirely given up, he is determined to discipline this wild school. In order to save some space here, a movie shot in 1963 with the same protagonists, about a girl willingly dropping the last class in high school to marry but then regretting it, Χτυποκάρδια Στο Θρανίο - Thorbs At The Desk, was also critically and commercially successful.

Τα Κόκκινα Φανάρια - The Red Lanterns (1963)

On a totally different climate than the above, this one was a drama nominated for Best Foreign movie in the Oscars, about the lives of five prostitutes working in Troumba until the enforcement of a law that was banning the brothels of the area (area in Piraeus, the port of Athens).

Ευδοκία - Eudocia (1971)

A movie that typically critics love and it was called by the Greek Films Critics Association as the best Greek movie up to the '80s, something that I don't see reflected in IMDb though. Anyway, this is an erotic drama of a surgeant falling in love and quickly marrying a prostitute working near the military camp. The marriage is tumultuous and the surgeant is both very attracted and repelled by Eudocia. The couple tries to resist and rebel against the stereotypes and toxicity of the narrow-minded society, to no avail. The movie is very famous for its score as well, which Greeks genuinely consider "our second national anthem".

Ιφιγένεια - Iphigeneia (1977)

The ancient tragic tale of Iphigeneia, daughter of King Agamemnon, who was sacrificed in order to appease the gods before the journey of the Greeks to Troy.

*Note: This list is critic-centered. There are however numerous Greek comedies produced in that period ranging similar ratings and being hugely commercially successful. It's just that I had to stop somewhere and include a variety of themes. But honestly any Greek comedy of the 60s is pretty entertaining to watch, with very talented actors.