#this is when their core memories are made and quite frankly you guys are fucking it all up

[questioningstressing]

Y'all love flip flopping between whether minors should disclose their age or not online, like, generally probably not, but you guys get into a tizzy when they don't, but when they do you guys push them out of spaces meant for everyone, or you consider them 'less than' it's really fucking annoying especially considering minors (especially teenagers age 14-17) don't really have anywhere but online to go.

You guys just hate people who are younger than you huh? All spaces have to be for adults and adults only, or you're angry.

[byuntrash101]

Incubus: Coming of Age (Part 2)

Pairing: Incubus!Baekhyun x You

Genre: fantasy, smut 🖤

Tags: plot (typical me), demon boy (incubus), monstrous cock (like ya ain't ready), breeding kink, oral (f & m), overstimulation, breath play, dirrrty talk and more~

Raiting: 18+ (21+ it's even steamier than the 1st one 🙈)

Word count: 5.7k (the bock got me inspired haha)

Summary: Baekhyun left an indelible mark on you that one night. But the thing is it was a year ago! and that damn demon never came back... Maybe you should just forget about him... Well only maybe of course ;)

Part 1

General Masterlist

Hey guys this is the final part of this very steamy two shot ^^ I hope you guys will also like it. Please tell me what you think ^^

Tag list @lovebuginlove @ohh-baekhyun @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @baekklove @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove

...To a Man

How am I supposed to go back to a normal life after that?

Well in fact... you didn't. It was over a year later and Baekhyun never came back. Every night you were hoping that somehow, he would come visit you again. But every night you laid in your bed disappointed, actually, even worse: frustrated.

Because after that fateful night you never touched yourself to your handsome boss Doctor Park Chanyeol again. Actually, you completely lost interest in him. Sure, he was still very handsome and gentlemanly but you just... didn't care anymore.

To be completely exact you didn't touch yourself to Chanyeol, but you still did have intimate sessions with yourself... Well, you tried at least. Because nothing, NOTHING... came close to what you felt when Baekhyun took care of you that night. Actually, you knew no human being, no simple mortal could possibly fuck you that way. It's not something a being of flesh and blood can do... It's something only an unholy creature could do, something only a demon could make you feel.

So, every time you succumbed to the urge of relieving yourself by letting your fingers play with your folds it ended in either, a complete failure where you couldn't even drive yourself to your peak or a lukewarm, disappointing and frustrating orgasm...

A whole year...

A whole year spent fantasizing about a teenage demon that only used you to pass a stupid exam then vanished from your reality without failing to completely shatter your whole world...

So yeah... it sucked...

You sighed to yourself, staring at the same old ceiling of your room. It was one of those nights where the tension was just too much, but you didn't feel like going through the hassle of actually pleasuring yourself knowing damn well it was going to be temporary and frankly dissatisfying.

You turned to your side, determined to chase off the frustration by getting some good sleep. Exhausted you drifted pretty quickly into a deep slumber.

But the sleep was anything but good... You found yourself covered in sweat, wrestling in your sheets, engrossed in a fever dream. Not much of it made sense but you felt like hands were roaming your body, like an usually warm embrace was enveloping your form, you felt like rugged flesh was lapping at your ear. You heard like jerky breaths, lowly grunts, like an unnaturally deep voice talking to you...

Missed me... Kitten?

"Baekhyun?!" you shouted as you sat up in your bed, eyes snapping open.

You looked around in a slight panic, your night gown clamped to your sweaty skin and your chest heaving up and down.

"Fuck" you cursed yourself under your breath, disappointed when you realized your mind played tricks on you again... You're just here alone in your room, soaked in frustration... and arousal.

"God damn it" your curse again as you slip your night gown over your head and kick the covers off your heated skin. You are left naked on top of your bed. Immediately the cold air sends goosebumps on your humid skin, hardening your nipples.

You let you fingers slip to the crux of the problem. You know there's only one way to finally be able to chase away the memory of Baekhyun, even if it's only for tonight.

The cold fingers on your drenched heat draw a sharp breath off your lips. You're so excited about this stupid fever dream, so excited about him that only a few rubs already have you with your toes curled up in pleasure. You fist your sheets tightly.

"Aaaah... Baekhyun" you softly moan his name. With eyes closed shut, you try to recall the way he felt inside you, the way his eyes glowed red, the way his low voice sent shivers down your spine...

Oh... Kittennn~...

It was like you could hear him... you gave no rest to your sensitive and throbbing nub...

"Baekhyun I'm gonna cum" you whisper to yourself. Pleasure slowly taking over your entire body. You slip a finger inside your drenched heat to aid yourself to your peak a little quicker. Then another one. You aim directly for your sensitive spot and you feel yourself tightly clenching around your fingers. You're so close... so soclose.

"Aren't you going to wait for me?"

This time...There's no doubt.

Your eyes snap open again as you stop what you were doing and you are met with Baekhyun staring you down at the foot of the bed, licking his lips, eyes already wavering with a tint of red.

But for a second you doubt. Is it really him? You can't help but to ask yourself. He looks so different. Sure, the spare shaped black tail still loosely dangles behind him but other than that his whole aura changed. The boyish features are completely gone. Instead, he looks broader, like more muscular. His plain black tee is tightly hugging his fit and toned body, making it easy for you to see abs peaking from underneath the constrictive fabric, abs you can't recall from the previous visit. His matching jeans let you see through their rips his smooth silky skin and generous thighs... But the most noticeable change is definitely his horns. The cute 10 cm (4in) tall skin-colored horns were replaced by huge 30cm (1ft) long ones. They were directly sprouting in a spiral from his forehead and stood proud on top of his head. Their base was black but as they went up it faded to a dark and deep blood red.

Overall, he looks so much more mature...

He isn't a boy anymore... he's a man.

"Baekhyun?" you start hesitantly as the demon already slips beside you in bed. "Is that really you?" you can't help but to ask.

"Yes... Kitten... It's me" he whispers in the low voice you missed so much. Bringing his lips close to your ear and you feel his rough tongue lap at your sweet spot, the familiar sensation draws a shaky breath out of you. For a minute you don't say anything you're just there, under his spell as he plays with you. In the midst of all this you didn't even notice you were stark naked, or maybe you just didn't care. You don't want to protest quite frankly, you let him do, you let him gently nibble at your bare collarbones and plant gentle kisses on your neck. You let him because... that's what you've been waiting for... For a whole fuckingyear.

But then you shake your head, snapping out of it... You leave his side taking the sheets to wrap around your naked body and get up, knowing that his soft kisses keep you from thinking rationally.

"Baekhyun..." you turned your eyes back to him "you changed so much". He chuckled and the red glow faded to slowly disappear as he gets up.

"Yes... I know, a lot can change in 12 years..." he casually says while stepping closer to you.

Wait... What?!?!

"What 12 years? No, it was just last year" you correct him, and he takes your hands in his slender black stained fingers.

"Maybe to you... but not to me" You suddenly recall the demonic blood moon years... Maybe that's what he meant... "I'll be turning 30 this May."

Your jaw drops... how was that even possible?! But then again, here you are questioning the passing of time for an.... Incubus... so what's crazier really?

"You remember what I told you about breeding?" Baekhyun's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Yes... that it is an incubus sole purpose, right?" you say absent mindedly, still dazed at the situation. But you're brought back to the present moment when Baekhyun squeezes your hands tightly and dives in your gaze with his piercing dark brown orbs.

"Yes, I came back for that..." he leans in and you instinctively lean your head back giving him unconditional access to your neck. Baekhyun's voice goes down an octave again, lips only millimeters away from your ear. "I came back for you..." he whispers before he licks around your sweet spot, making your heart loudly thump in your chest and your toes curls on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom. You bite your lip trying to restrain your voice.

"I'm going to breed you" his voice is hypnotizing, "You will bare my children and bring them into the world" You can't even wrap your mind around what he's saying, "I chose you, y/n. I only want you" His voice his putting a spell on you. "I can fuck any women I want but..." his hand is now wrapped around your nape, and the other one gently pulls on the sheets that you let fall to the ground without resistance.

"Baekhyun what do you mean?" you ask in a jerky whisper, only focusing on his hot breath on your ear. He ignores your question.

"I need your approval to breed you, y/n..." His blunt nails grazed against the naked skin of your lower back, you start to softly moan, you're completely wrapped around his fingers. "So, say yes, y/n... Say yes Kitten" he says before his large palms grope your butt cheeks closing in the last centimeters that were left between his clothed body and your naked one, sending radiating heat from your core to your entire body.

What are you supposed to reply? Are you supposed to say no? How could you do such a thing after waiting for him for a whole year, everyday growing a little more desperate, a little more frustrated... How could you possibly say no, when his hands were roam your body like they have always known you. When he whispers with that voice in your ear. When minutes ago, you would have given anything to have another night with him...

You... just...

Can't.

"Okay..." you whispered ever so quietly, barely audible even for your own ears.

You feel Baekhyun's cheek lift against yours as he smiles. When he pulls back, you can see his pointy teeth glistening under the full moon, like they did a year ago, he's wearing the same evil smirk that you know so well, or maybe this time he's even more devious...

Fuck...

Right there something snaps, something changes. When Baekhyun looks back the red glow in his eyes is more intense than ever, his expression is wicked. Lust dancing in his dark orbs as he licks his lips with appetite.

You don't even notice the red glow around your naked form before you feel your feet being lifted from the ground. Baekhyun smirks at the confusion plastered on your face. His magic makes you levitate and harshly throws you on the bed, almost smashing your heard on the headboard. You should be stunned but the scene taking place right before your eyes keeps you conscious and focused.

The red glow now circles Baekhyun and in a fraction of second his clothes are gone. Not dropped to the floor, just gone. They completely vanished. And he stands right before you in all his glory. You can't help but to let your eyes trail his body.

His sharp jawline, long narrow neck, his collarbones. The muscles of his pecs and arms moving and mesmerizing you. The dangling black tail. The toned abs already lightly sparkling with sweat.

Then your eyes finally go below the waist band.

You do remember the enormous… thingBaekhyun fucked you with last time. How could you forget? You could never. That's why you know for a fact that this thing right there in front of you, rock hard, lightly twitching and oozing precum at the slit, is actually bigger.

Your jaw drops to the floor. The veiny and pulsing monstrous cock is as lengthy as your thigh and as thick as a soda can. When you look closely it seems like the sides are beaded. Your heart jumps in your chest. Because you know that huge ass cock is made for pleasure. Tingles start to bubble in the pit of your stomach, and you unconsciously press your thighs together.

Baekhyun can't help but to smirk when he notices fear and anticipation swim in your confused eyes.

He steps closer to you.

"Oh Kitten" he starts as he crawls in bed to you. The wicked smirk still dancing on his lips, red glowing eyes fixed on you. "We're going to have so much fun."

Then with the familiar flick of his wrist your legs fly open at his will. You gasp in surprise. And Baekhyun's smirk goes wider when he notices how your folds glisten with juices.

"Kitten look at you..." He says gesturing his chin towards your most private part. "You're always so wet for me" his low voice send shivers down your spine as embarrassment rush to your cheeks. But the spell maintains your legs nice and spread out for him.

Baekhyun leans in closer to your drenched heat teeth and tongue out.

You gasp loudly arching your back when you feel his rugged tongue aiming directly for your clit. Still very sensitive from almost cumming a few minutes ago.

"Mmmmh... Kitten you taste even better than last time" he purrs, lips pressed to your core, the vibrations sending electricity in your body.

Baekhyun takes his sweet time gently lapping at and around your nub to tease you, while cascades of juices flow out of your impatient center. You can't endure the teasing anymore, not after all this time, not after a whole year. You unconsciously buck your hips up, grinding your pussy on his tongue while a tiny pleading whimper escapes your lips.

Baekhyun stops in his track. You're taken aback when glowing red eyes look back up at you and he shakes his head fainting disappointment. But the smirk is quick to comeback.

"Baby" his warm breath fans your delicate parts. "Don't be so fucking greedy" he says before sinking his pointy white teeth in the sensitive little bud. The sting pulls a scream out of you while you grip the sheets. Immediately after Baekhyun's tongue plunges inside your hungry little hole, reaching the deepest part right away. At an alluring speed, his long tongue comes in and out of you, each time poking your sweet spot. Your loud moans echo through the empty night, the familiar knot, quick to tighten again after this much teasing.

"Baekhyun don't stop" you plead, feeling your release coming. Baekhyun's red orbs sill fixed in yours while his tail lazily dangles behind him.

The incessant stimulation of your g-spot got you clenching around his long and rugged tongue while you finally cum, letting go of the knot. You scream in absolute bliss.

That's it... this feeling... The sensation you've been craving.

"Fuckkkk" You cry out.

Baekhyun parts himself from your throbbing center for a moment, allowing you to ride out your high at your own pace. Your chest is heaving up and down, sweat is pearling between your breasts.

"Baby, don't think it's over just yet" he says smirking again. "I have so much more in store for you..."

Right then, you still haven't fully recovered and Baekhyun dives down to your soaked folds again, but this time his hot and wet tongue only focusses on you swollen nub. You scream out in surprise and pleasure. Immediately your back arches again.

His tongue somehow feels like vibrations, the feeling is intense and suffocating, and you know you won't be slow be thrown into another strong orgasm again. Your hand instinctively flies to Baekhyun's hair, resting in between his two horns, fingers harshly pulling at his luscious raven black locks.

"Is Kitten cumming again?" he says with a mouthful.

You can't even process an answer as the crushing orgasm washes over you again, excessive amounts of your arousal coating your tights and linking your center to the sheets. You moan out with no restrain, making no effort whatsoever to keep your voice down.

When he's done Baekhyun sits back up on the bed. You don't even notice how he strokes his huge monstrous pole in his fist.

"Kitten, I hope you're not tired yet..." you jumped when you felt is unnaturally hot tip glide against your folds. "Because it’s my turn now"

He shimmied his way to your parted thighs. Like last time he rested his cock on your stomach to measure it up to you. Now there's no doubt the thing is much much bigger than last time. A year ago, it reached to your midriff, now the red tip is comfortably placed between your boobs. In a sort of trance, you wrap your hands around it, the both of them can barely circle the girth of his dick. It's huge... Abnormally long and terrifyingly thick... but you can't wait to feel the thing inside you.

Baekhyun smirks when he notices you eyeing his member with burning desire. He pulls his hips back and aligns himself at your entrance. His tip teases you as you bite your lip, gathering your wetness for a smooth crossing.

"Look at me Kitten" your eyes shoot back to Baekhyun's glowing orbs. "Look at me while I make you take my cock" You let a tiny whimper out when you feel him pushing himself inside you. The tip gently and slowly parting you. Baekhyun grunts in your ear.

"Fuck Kitten, you're so tight for me baby" he breaths out in his low voice.

With every centimeter it gets better and better, you feel no pain at all only divine pleasure. You feel each one of the beads along his shaft, each one more pleasing than the last. Last time just that one slow stroke made you cum. And you know, history won't fail to repeat itself.

"I'm gonna cum" you whisper in a strangled breath, your eyes still locked with Baekhyun's. His smirk goes wider at your frowned brows and trembling lip. But he keeps on steadily pushing his cock inside you, spreading you further and further.

"I know" he whispers before violently pushing the last few centimeters in. The unexpected and overwhelming pleasure washes over you as you sink your head back in the pillows, a long string of moan falling of your lips while your cunt twitches uncontrollably around Baekhyun, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.

"Kitten" he says while pulling back slowly as you are still high from your climax. "I don't think you're ready for me" You difficulty open one eye to look at him and nod to contradict him. Baekhyun chuckles. "You think?" he asks popping his dick out of you while your walls desperately clench around nothing.

"Yes" you whisper, squirming, craving for him to fill you up again. "Yes, I missed you so much" the words roll of your tongue before you even realize it. Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow.

"Really Kitten? You missed me?" you nod again. "Well... you only waited for a year" you gasp as his hot tip circles your aching little nub before going back to your entrance. "I waited for 12 years" he says in an unnaturally low grunt.

He slams his hips into yours in one powerful and shattering thrust which sends you right back to screaming again. His movements are fast and precise each time he sends his big cock smashing against your g-spot. The pleasurable feeling is unbearable.

"Baekhyun... Aaaahh..." you moan his name, as you get dangerously close to the edge again.

"Yes, moan for me Kitten" he says through greeted teeth. "Aren't I a lot better than last time?" he pants out.

You can't believe it but it's true. You didn't think it was possible but yes. He got incredibly better at fucking you to the point that you're ready to pledge your pussy to him for eternity. For him only. You'd do anything to be fucked like this every day until your body eventually gives out from exhaustion.

"Yesss.... Aaaaah... fuck" You shout closing your eyes under the pleasure. Your loud and unrestrained moans make Baekhyun smirk.

"You're mine" he growls continuing to fuck you deep and hard. "Fucking look at me I told you" He plants his nails at the side of your face, making you wince and also open your eyes. The red glow is brighter than ever. "Say that you're mine" he commands.

"I'm yours" you whine locking eyes with him as the clenching of your cunt warns Baekhyun of how close you are.

"Kitten, are you gonna cum again?" he chuckles eyes locked into yours, furiously pumping his abnormally large cock inside your now shapeless hole.

"I'm gonna make you mine Kitten. I'm gonna pump you full of cum. Do you want that Kitten?"

"Yes please" You beg in a short breath, your release getting dangerously close.

"Good girl" He grunts getting close to your ear, his rugged tongued licking the shell of it. "Now cum. Cum around my big cock while I fill you up to the brink with hot cum."

The low whispers are enough to rocket you over the edge. You scream in absolute bliss, twitching around his huge cock as you feel the hot sticky liquid rushing into you and overflowing out. Just like last time the quantity is insane, testifying of Baekhyun’s demonic nature.

When Baekhyun finally slips out of you, you feel your heat meekly clench around nothing, already missing Baekhyun's monstrous cock.

You are left completely dazed, lying on the bed, eyes still rolled back in your head, focusing on the fading sensation of your peak.

You don't even notice when Baekhyun stands by the bed and you also don't notice how, contrary to last time, cumming has not calm him down. The "thing" is still alive and lively. In other words... he's far from done with you.

"Kitten I'm gonna fuck your face now"

You don't have time to process the meaning of those words that you are pulled by your arm. Your body is lying across the bed while your head is resting upside down on the edge of the mattress.

"Open wide Kitten" Baekhyun's hot and wet tip brushes against your lips. Almost out of instinct you open your mouth.

Baekhyun presses himself inside your narrow mouth. The stretch is excruciating, the thing is too big. Way too big for your tiny mouth and you barely manage to take the head of his dick inside your crowded mouth. Baekhyun grunts loudly, indulging in the feeling of stretching your cute little mouth to his convenience.

"Fuckkkk... y/n"

When he reaches the back of your throat he starts to slowly pull out, taking his cock completely out. You cease the opportunity to take a deep breath. Good call! Because the next second, Baekhyun goes back inside you but with much less care. He places both of his hands on your cheeks gripping your face tightly to facilitate the penetration.

He has no mercy for your poor sore throat, his powerful thrust silencing you except for the wet and sloppy sounds that your mouth makes.

"How does your cum and mine taste Kitten?" he grunts again.

His voice sends shivers across your skin, your eyes roll back as your pained pried open jaw gradually goes numb. You want to scream yes but you can't. You want more, more of this intoxicating taste taking over your mouth and clouding your mind.

"Fuckkkk... Kitten... You're gonna make me cum" He whispers, his voice conveys the feeling of his high getting closer. "I'm gonna cum in your mouth baby. You want that Kitten?" You only produce a gargled moan but Baekhyun knows how eager you are to taste more of him.

He fucks your face a little more before whispering

"Such a good girl for me"

Only instants after you feel the stream shoot to the back of your throat, instantly filling your mouth. So many squirts crash on the inside of your cheeks and on your tongue, some even go through your nose. The bitter taste invades you and your entire body, making your head dizzy.

When Baekhyun pulls out you hurriedly swallow a big mouthful of thick and hot cum before drawing a sharp -and much needed- breath.

Baekhyun gently strokes your cheeks.

"You're such a good girl for me Kitten" he says before laying back on the bed. His back is settled against the headboard. And your eyes go wide with stupor when you notice that...Still... The monster has not... calmed down.

You feel exhausted and drained out by all the orgasms you failed to count. You can't even move a muscle... even if you tried.

But you don't have to because once again your body is enveloped by a red glowing light. With that you are lifted in the air. Baekhyun's magic spread your legs into an impressive split, suspended above him while he patiently waits for you with his hands behind his head.

Beads of sweat formed on his chest and rolled down his toned abs. Sweat also sticking his bangs to his forehead and his horns. He's absolutely gorgeous, he has the kind of looks that nobody would ever be able to turn down... and especially not you.

But he looks everything but tired.

Slowly his magic lowers you down. You gasp when his hot tip brushes against your drenched folds.

"I just need more of you Kitten. Can you handle me?"

You want to respond but already the steady descent as you stretched out around his girthy cock. Making you whimper as a response. Slowly but surely Baekhyun makes you go down, cunt perfectly angled with his huge dick. Each centimeter, each bead going inside you, feeling like agonizing pleasure.

When you are halfway through the red light around your body goes off and he drops you to take the rest of him in one go. And it’s too much for you. The way his cock smashes into your sensitive sweet spot while Baekhyun has his glowing red orbs fixed on the place your bodies meet sends you into the abyss again. This time the pleasure is so intense that not only your needy cunt absolutely crushes Baekhyun's cock with uncontrollable spams but also gushes of your juices come out of you in powerful streams, drenching Baekhyun's muscular torso. Baekhyun smirks as he clicks his tongue and shake his head.

"Kitten... You came again with the very first stroke" he says fainting disappointment, taking pleasure in seeing you struggling, shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolled back, jaw hanging open and toes curled up.

Then you feel yourself getting lifted again the red glow comes back around your figure. You whimper as you feel Baekhyun slide out of you. But right before the tip pops out, he smashes you back onto him. You arch your back as a delighted long string of moans escape your lips.

"Damn Kitten you're so tight" Baekhyun says through greeted teeth.

You can't even reply anything as he's already lifting you up with his magic. Each time he increases the pace until he has you jumping up and down his girthy length. The familiar knot tightens again.

"How good does my cock feel baby?" Baekhyun asks his red eyes fixed on you as he makes your boobs bounce.

"It's the best.... Baekhyun it's the best thing ever. I wanna be fucked like this every day" you answer in a delighted scream. It's visibly what Baekhyun wanted to hear as the evil twinkle in his eye intensifies.

"Yeah Kitten? You want that?" he grunts in the low voice you love so much, sending swarms of butterflies fly in your stomach. He goes faster again. The wet sounds of skin clashing bounce off the walls punctually interrupted by Baekhyun's grunts and your moans.

"I'm gonna c-" You want to announce but Baekhyun interrupts you.

"Not yet Kitten, this time you'll cum with me and when I tell you to" He makes you hover over his dick. Still, just above him. You squirm only wanting to be filled again.

"Say what you want Kitten"

"I want your cock Baekhyun" he raises in eyebrow. "Please" your pleads make Baekhyun smirk again.

"Yeah baby? Is that what you want?" he says as he slips the tip inside, the beaded shaft make you scream in bliss as Baekhyun slowly lowers you on his cock, legs spread wide, offering him the best view on your swollen and twitching cunt.

"Yes!!!" you scream while tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

But then Baekhyun's spade shaped tail swiftly wraps around your neck, the slick scales gliding on your skin send goosebumps in the nape of your neck. When the tail has made a full circle around your neck, Baekhyun suddenly tightens the grip.

"Then fucking take it" he smashes you onto his huge cock.

You open your mouth to scream but not a sound comes out. You are completely silenced. Only the wet and lewd sounds of your pussy can be heard as Baekhyun's tip touches the deepest part of you, forming a visible bulge inside your stomach. Tears of pure joy roll down your heated cheeks.

Baekhyun then goes back to his insane rhythm. Every time angling you just right to smash your sensitive spot. Gradually your mind goes blank as he fucks you furiously, your jaw hangs open and your eyes rolls back into their orbit.

"Look at me" Baekhyun whispers in his demonic low voice. Your eyes snap to him. "I'm gonna cum inside you" he continuous to whisper. You nod vigorously, cause you know it means he'll finally let you cum too. "With this one I'll make you mine. I'll impregnate you. I'll make your belly swell with my children" You nod again, streams of tears wetting your cheeks. The restriction of blood to your brain makes you see stars as the pleasure rises again to an unbearable level.

"Now cum. Cum for me Kitten" Baekhyun grunts.

You feel his cum flow into you, this last thing sends you over the edge into the most intense orgasm you ever felt, that's including the ones Baekhyun gave you in the past. This one is different. This one is too much. His big fat cock smashing into you, his drenched chest glistening, the dirty talk, the pet name, the commanding tone, the demonic voice, the tail around your neck, the thick and hot cum filling you up.

Your spread-out legs shake uncontrollably as Baekhyun leads you to completion. Just as you are on the verge of losing consciousness due to the air restriction but also the heavenly stimulation of your orgasm, Baekhyun loosens his tail around your narrow neck. A strangled scream escapes free of your sore throat as you are finally able to vocally express the immense pleasure you feel.

"Yes, that's it baby" Baekhyun purrs as he keeps you going up and down his length.

You cry out a long moan as your head is thrown back and your tongue hangs lose out of your mouth. Baekhyun slowly decreases the pace until it comes to a stop. He lifts you out one last time, as soon as his big member pops out of you, gallons of his cum flow out of you. Baekhyun lays you down gently next to him. Before linking his lips with yours and shoving his long and rugged tongue inside your mouth and you don't even notice the red glow marking you in the lower stomach region.

You lay there for you don't know how long, trying to gather your thoughts. You are completely drained, fucked beyond repair...

After a while Baekhyun stands back up.

"In three weeks, the children will be born" you difficulty open your eyes back to look at him. "I'll be back to take them... and you."

What?!?

"Wait... me? Also babies??? Plural?" so many questions shoot through your mind.

"Yes" Baekhyun says as he wipes himself with a piece of cloth he found. "I marked you as mine" It's only now that you notice the small drawing Baekhyun tattooed on you with his demonic magic. It's a language you can't comprehend.

"What is this?" you asked pointing to the tattoo.

"It means you are to be my wife". Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

"WHAT?" You yell, flabbergasted.

"Yes, you know what a succubus is right, female incubus? " you nod unable to speak one more word.

"Well, no succubus are born. Succubus are only made. They are human women chosen by incubus to become their wife and bring their heirs to the world."

You want to say something, but you only stutter nonsense.

"Over the next three weeks you will kiss your humanity goodbye. Horns will sprout out your forehead and you will grow a tail. Your magic energy will increase, and you will slowly be able to use different magic spells. In three weeks, I'll bring you to the magic realm where you will live with me. And serve me with your body..." Baekhyun marks a silence "and heart."

"But... you... I-" Baekhyun sits next to you on the bed and cups your cheeks to make your troubled eyes meet his.

"Wasn't that what you asked for?" He asked in the most honey toned voice, his darks orbs fixed into your unsure gaze. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip "Right Kitten?"

"Yes..." you whisper, hypnotized by his intense stare.

"Over the past year, your feelings for me bloomed, didn't they?" You felt blood rushing to your cheeks as Baekhyun's eyes were unwavering.

You didn't answer anything, but you didn't have to... Baekhyun knew exactly how to read you. Maybe because he felt the same way...

He got back up and with magic popped his clothes back on. Red smoke started to appear at his feet, gradually growing around him.

"I'll be back in three weeks... Wait for me Kitten, okay?" He said with that adorable boyish smile you haven't seen in a year, he winked at you before disappearing in the red smoke.

You rubbed your belly, where life had taken its domain. This time, you wouldn't have to try to go back to a normal life.

It was impossible anyway... and frankly you didn't want to.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Content note for discussions of eternal damnation, and all sorts of other shit that will trigger a lot of folks with religious trauma.

Before I get started I might as well explain where I’m coming from - unlike a lot of She-Ra fans, and a lot of queer people, I don’t have much religious trauma, or any, maybe (okay there were a number of years I was convinced I was going to hell, but that happens to everyone, right?). I was raised a liberal Christian by liberal Christian parents in the Episcopal Church, where most of my memories are overwhelmingly positive. Fuck, growing up in the 90’s, Chuch was probably the only place outside my home I didn’t have homophobia spewed at me. Because it was the 90’s and it was a fucking hellscape of bigotry where 5 year olds knew enough to taunt each other with homophobic slurs and the adults didn’t know enough to realize how fucked up that was. Anyway. This is my experience, but it is an atypical one, and I know it. Quite frankly I know that my experience of Christianity has very little at all to do with what most people experienced, or what people generally mean when they talk about Christianity as a cultural force in America today. So if you were raised Christian and you don’t recognize your theology here, congrats, neither do I, but these ideas and cultural forces are huge and powerful and dominant. And it’s this dominant Christian narrative that I’m referring to in this post. As well as, you know, a children’s cartoon about lesbian rainbow princesses. So here it goes. This is going to get batshit.

"All events whatsoever are governed by the secret counsel of God." - John Calvin

“We’re all just a bunch of wooly guys” - Noelle Stevenson

This is a post triggered by a single scene, and a single line. It’s one of the most fucked-up scenes in She-Ra, toward the end of Save the Cat. Catra, turned into a puppet by Prime, struggles with her chip, desperately trying to gain control of herself, so lost and scared and vulnerable that she flings aside her own death wish and her pride and tearfully begs Adora to rescue her. Adora reaches out , about to grab her, and then Prime takes control back, pronounces ‘disappointing’ and activates the kill switch that pitches Catra off the platform and to her death (and seriously, she dies here, guys - also Adora breaks both her legs in the fall). But before he does, he dismisses Catra with one of his most chilling lines. “Some creatures are meant only for destruction.”

And that’s when everyone watching probably had their heart broken a little bit, but some of the viewers raised in or around Christianity watching the same scene probably whispered ‘holy shit’ to themselves. Because Prime’s line - which works as a chilling and callous dismissal of Catra - is also an allusion to a passage from the Bible. In fact, it’s from one of the most fucked up passages in a book with more than its share of fucked up passages. It’s from Romans 9:22, and I’m going to quote several previous verses to give the context of the passage (if not the entire Epistle, which is more about who needs to abide by Jewish dietary restrictions but was used to construct a systematic theology in the centuries afterwards because people decided it was Eternal Truth).

19 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?

20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?

21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?

22 What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:

The context of the allusion supports the context in the show. Prime is dismissing Catra - serial betrayer, liar, failed conqueror, former bloody-handed warlord - as worthless, as having always been worthless and fit only to be destroyed. He is speaking from a divine and authoritative perspective (because he really does think he’s God, more of this in my TL/DR Horde Prime thing). Prime is echoing not only his own haughty dismissal of Catra, and Shadow Weaver’s view of her, but also perhaps the viewer’s harshest assessment of her, and her own worst fears about herself. Catra was bad from the start, doomed to destroy and to be destroyed. A malformed pot, cracked in firing, destined to be shattered against a wall and have her shards classified by some future archaeologist 2,000 years later. And all that’s bad enough.

But the full historical and theological context of this passage shows the real depth of Noelle Stevenson’s passion and thought and care when writing this show. Noelle was raised in Evangelical or Fundamentalist Christianity. To my knowledge, he has never specified what sect or denomination, but in interviews and her memoir Noelle has shown a particular concern for questions that this passage raises, and a particular loathing for the strains of Protestant theology that take this passage and run with it - that is to say, Calvinism. So while I’m not sure if Noelle was raised as a conservative, Calvinist Presbyterian, his preoccupation with these questions mean that it’s time to talk about Calvinism.

It would be unfair, perhaps, to say that Calvinism is a systematic theology built entirely upon the Epistles of Romans and Galatians, but only -just- (and here my Catholic readers in particular will chuckle to themselves and lovingly stroke their favorite passage of the Epistle of James). The core of Calvinist Doctrine is often expressed by the very Dutch acronym TULIP:

Total Depravity - people are wholly evil, and incapable of good action or even willing good thoughts or deeds

Unconditional Election - God chooses some people to save because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, not because they did anything to deserve, trigger or accept it

Limited Atonement - Jesus died only to save the people God chose to save, not the rest of us bastards

Irresistible Grace - God chooses some people to be saved - if you didn’t want to be saved, too bad, God said so.

Perseverance of the Saints - People often forget this one and assume it’s ‘predestination’ but it’s actually this - basically, once saved by God, always saved, and if it looks like someone falls out of grace, they were never saved to begin with. Well that’s all sealed up tight I guess.

Reading through these, predestination isn’t a single doctrine in Calvinism but the entire theological underpinnings of it together with humanity’s utter powerlessness before sin. Basically God has all agency, humanity has none. Calvinism (and a lot of early modern Protestantism) is obsessed with questions of how God saves people (grace alone, AKA Sola Fides) and who God saves (the people god elects and only the people God elects, and fuck everyone else).

It’s apparent that Noelle was really taken by these questions, and repelled by the answers he heard. He’s alluded to having a tattoo refuting the Gospel passage about Sheep and Goats being sorted at the end times, affirming instead that ‘we’re all just a bunch of wooly guys’ (you can see this goat tattoo in some of his self-portraits in comics, etc). He’s also mentioned that rejecting and subverting destiny is a huge part of everything he writes as a particular rejection of the idea that some individual people are 'chosen' by God or that God has a plan for any of us. You can see that -so clearly- in Adora’s arc, where Adora embraces and then rejects destiny time and again and finally learns to live life for herself.

But for Catra, we’re much more concerned about the most negative aspect of this - the idea that some people are vessels meant for destruction. And that’s something else that Noelle is preoccupied with. In her memoir in the section about leaving the church and becoming a humanistic atheist, there is a drawing of a pot and the question ‘Am I a vessel prepared for destruction?’ Obviously this was on Noelle’s mind (And this is before he came out to himself as queer!).

To look at how this question plays out in Catra’s entire arc, let’s first talk about how ideas of damnation and salvation actually play out in society. And for that I’m going to plug one of my favorite books, Gin Lun’s Damned Nation: Hell in America from the Revolution to Reconstruction (if you can tell by now, I am a fucking blast at parties). Lun tells the long and very interesting story about, how ideas of hell and who went there changed during the Early American Republic. One of the interesting developments that she talks about is how while at first people who were repelled by Calvinism started moving toward a doctrine of universal salvation (no on goes to hell, at least not forever*), eventually they decided that hell was fine as long as only the right kind of people went there. Mostly The Other - non-Christian foreigners, Catholics, Atheists, people who were sinners in ways that were not just bad but weird and violated Victorian ideas of respectability. Really, Hell became a way of othering people, and arguably that’s how it survives today, especially as a way to other queer people (but expanding this is slated for my Montero rant). Now while a lot of people were consciously rejecting Calvinist predestination, they were still drawing the distinction between the Elect (good, saved, worthwhile) and the everyone else (bad, damned, worthless). I would argue that secularized ideas of this survive to this day even among non-Christian spaces in our society - we like to draw lines between those who Elect, and those who aren’t.

And that’s what brings us back to Catra. Because Catra’s entire arc is a refutation of the idea that some people are worthless and irredeemable, either by nature, nurture or their own actions. Catra’s actions strain the conventions of who is sympathetic in a Kid’s cartoon - I’ve half joked that she’s Walter White as a cat girl, and it’s only half a joke. She’s cruel, self-deluded, she spends 4 seasons refusing to take responsibility for anything she does and until Season 5 she just about always chooses the thing that does the most damage to herself and others. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, the show goes out of its way to demonstrate that Catra is morally culpable in every step of her descent into evil (except maybe her break with reality just before she pulls the lever). The way that Catra personally betrays everyone around her, the way she strips herself of all of her better qualities and most of what makes her human, hell even her costume changes would signal in any other show that she’s irredeemable.

It’s tempting to see this as Noelle’s version of being edgy - pushing the boundaries of what a sympathetic character is, throwing out antiheroics in favor of just making the villain a protagonist. Noelle isn’t quite Alex ‘I am in the business of traumatizing children’ Hirsch, who seems to have viewed his job as pushing the bounds of what you could show on the Disney Channel (I saw Gravity Falls as an adult and a bunch of that shit lives rent free in my nightmares forever), but Noelle has his own dark side, mostly thematically. The show’s willingness to deal with abuse, and messed up religious themes, and volatile, passionate, not particularly healthy relationships feels pretty daring. I’m not joking when I gleefully recommend this show to friends as ‘a couple from a Mountain Goats Song fights for four seasons in a cartoon intended for 9 year olds’. Noelle is in his own way pushing the boundaries of what a kids show can do. If you read Noelle’s other works like Nimona, you see an argument for Noelle being at least a bit edgy. Nimona is also angry, gleefully destructive, violent and spiteful - not unlike Catra. Given that it was a 2010s webcomic and not a kids show, Nimona is a good deal worse than Catra in some ways - Catra doesn’t kill people on screen, while Nimona laughs about it (that was just like, a webcomic thing - one of the fan favorite characters in my personal favorite, Narbonic, was a fucking sociopath, and the heroes were all amoral mad scientists, except for the superintelligent gerbil**). But unlike Nimona, whose fate is left open ended, Catra is redeemed.

And that is weird. We’ve had redemption arcs, but generally not of characters with -so- much vile stuff in their history. Going back to the comparison between her and Azula, many other shows, like Avatar, would have made Catra a semi-sympathetic villain who has a sob-story in their origin but who is beyond redemption, and in so doing would articulate a kind of psychologized Calvinism where some people are too traumatized to ever be fully and truly human. I’d argue this is the problem with Azula as a character - she’s a fun villain, but she doesn’t have moral agency, and the ultimate message of her arc - that she’s a broken person destined only to hurt people - is actually pretty fucked up. And that’s the origin story of so many serial killers and psycopaths that populate so many TV shows and movies. Beyond ‘hurt people hurt people’ they have nothing to teach us except perhaps that trauma makes you a monster and that the only possible response to people doing bad things is to cut them out of your life and out of our society (and that’s why we have prisons, right?)

And so Catra’s redemption and the depths from which she claws herself back goes back to Noelle’s desire to prove that no person is a vessel ‘fitted for destruction.’ Catra goes about as far down the path of evil as we’ve ever seen a protagonist in a kids show go, and she still has the capacity for good. Importantly, she is not subject to total depravity - she is capable of a good act, if only one at first. Catra is the one who begins her own redemption (unlike in Calvinism, where grace is unearned and even unwelcomed) - because she wants something better than what she has, even if its too late, because she realizes that she never wanted any of this anyway, because she wants to do one good thing once in her life even if it kills her.

The very extremity of Catra’s descent into villainy serves to underline the point that Noelle is trying to make - that no one can be written off completely, that everyone is capable of change, and that no human being is garbage, no matter how twisted they’ve become. Meanwhile her ability to set her own redemption in motion is a powerful statement of human agency, and healing, and a refutation of Calvinism’s idea that we are powerless before sin or pop cultural tropes about us being powerful before the traumas of our upbringing. Catra’s arc, then, is a kind of anti-Calvinist theological statement - about the nature of people and the nature of goodness.

Now, there is a darker side to this that Noelle has only hinted at, but which is suggested by other characters on the show. Because while Catra’s redemption shows that people are capable of change, even when they’ve done horrible things, been fucked up and fucked themselves up, it also illustrates the things people do to themselves that make change hard. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, two of the most sinister parts of her descent into villainy are her self-dehumanization (crushing her own compassion and desire to do good) and her rewriting of her own history in her speech and memory to make her own actions seem justified (which we see with her insistence that Adora left her, eliding Adora’s offers to have Catra join her, or her even more clearly false insistence that Entrapta had betrayed them). In Catra, these processes keep her going down the path of evil, and allow her to nearly destroy herself and everyone else. But we can see the same processes at work in two much darker figures - Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime. These are both rants for another day, but the completeness of Shadow Weaver’s narcissistic self-justification and cultivated callousness and the even more complete narcissism of Prime’s god complex cut both characters off from everyone around them. Perhaps, in a theoretical sense, they are still redeemable, but for narrative purposes they might as well be damned.

This willingness to show a case where someone -isn’t- redeemed actually serves to make Catra’s redemption more believable, especially since Noelle and the writers draw the distinction between how Catra and SW/Prime can relate to reality and other people, not how broken they are by their trauma (unlike Zuko and Azula, who are differentiated by How Fucked Uolp They Are). Redemption is there, it’s an option, we can always do what is right, but someone people will choose not to, in part because doing the right thing involves opening ourselves to the world and others, and thus being vulnerable. Noelle mentions this offhandedly in an interview after Season 1 with the She-Ra Progressive of Power podcast - “I sometimes think that shades of grey, sympathetic villains are part of the escapist fantasy of shows like this.” Because in the real world, some people are just bastards, a point that was particularly clear in 2017. Prime and Shadow Weaver admit this reality, while Catra makes a philosophical point that even the bastards can change their ways (at least in theory).

*An idea first proposed in the second century by Origen, who’s a trip and a fucking half by himself, and an idea that becomes the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, which protestants vehemently denied!

**Speaking of favorite Noelle tropes

[solarwonux]

Wildflower || Lee Chan

chan x f!reader

w.c: 3.0k

warnings: smut, thigh riding, car sex, drinking, mentions of weed

note: another repost aaaa I’m sorry but good news my semester had ended so now I can finally sit down and write. Anyway, enjoy let me know your thoughts

p.s listen to wildflower by 5sos while reading this if you’d like.

p.p.s my requests are open so if you’d like one send them in hehe,xx

masterlist

The flames of the campfire burned making your eyes sting in discomfort. You blinked rapidly trying to regain the moisture back in your eyes but your efforts were deemed as unsuccessful. You sighed, placing your head on top of Chan’s shoulder, feeling him shake as he laughed at something Jun had said. The arm that was securely wrapped around you got tighter, making the butterflies in your stomach erupt, just like they did everytime you were in his presence.

“You okay?” He glazed over at you, his cheeks flushed pink from the wine he had been indulging in all throughout the night. “I’m fine, my eyes are just a little dry.” You assured him, giving him a slight nod of the head. “I have some eye drops in my car if you want them.”

“God, yes please.”

Chan grinned and leaned down. He placed a soft kiss against your forehead before turning to face his friends, who had started poking fun at Chan, making all sorts of childish remarks. Chan rolled his eyes and grabbed a twig from the ground before throwing it at Soonyoung who was making kissy faces at the two of you like a five year old.

“You guys are so annoying.” He chuckled. He removed the blanket he had placed over the two of you. The cool wind of the ocean breeze hitting your arms making you shiver slightly. “Sometimes you just make it so easy for us.” Jeonghan said pointedly tilting his cup of wine in the direction you two were sitting in before bringing it up to his rosy lips and chugging it down.

“Whatever, we’re going.” Chan stood up and threw the blanket onto Joshua’s lap, who’s face lit up as he rushed to cover his body with the thin wool. “We’ll be back in like ten minutes.” He pulled you up by your arms gently and pecked your lips once you were at eye level with him.

“Ten minutes huh, so you’re like a hit it and quit it type of guy.” Jeonghan joked, sending the rest of the boys into fits of uncontrollable laughter. “We’re going to my car to get eye drops…I really hate all of you.” Chan groaned, pulling on your arm, silently asking you to follow him and get away from your friends as fast as possible. You trailed behind him laughing, listening to how they now decided to take it upon themselves and gossip about yours and Chan’s sex life. Each one making insane claims, only making Chan’s steps get faster causing him to trip every few steps due to the sinking sand surrounding your bare feet.

“I bet getting eye drops is like code for sex now a days.”

It was unclear, in your wine filled haze, how the two of you went from desperately searching for eye drops to now making out in the back seat of his car.

Eye drops.

That was the only purpose of your trip to the nearly empty parking lot. But when he couldn’t find them mumbling curses as he tore his car apart, finally realizing that Vernon had probably taken them after they had smoked a week ago. He gave up, staying silent for a few seconds before pulling you into the back seat. One you had familiarized yourself with after years of dating and sneaking around. Your scent etched in between the cracks of the old leather seats, a thought that always managed to turn your insides into mush.

“Mmm…we should go back.” You mumbled clinging onto Chan as you pushed his head further into your neck. He hummed nodding his head slightly as he desperately sucked a love bite onto the skin of your collar bone. “We should, but I don’t want to.” He raised his head, smirking, hooking his thumbs around your belt loops and pulling you onto his lap. “I have a few propositions for you.” He smirked and brought your shirt over your head revealing the white lace of your bra. “So innocent.” His fingers delicately traced along the lace detailing, as you waited for his so-called propositions or genius ideas as he sometimes liked to call them.

“Why don’t we try that thing you mentioned the other day over lunch last week?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and if your body wasn’t already feeling hot due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. The memory of your lunch date last Monday would’ve surely done it. “Here. Where we can get caught by our friends or worse the police?”

“That’s what makes it more exciting.” He winked and unbuttoned your shorts. His fingers teasing the seam of your matching panties waiting for your go ahead. It made your heart sore knowing that after years of dating he still waited for your approval. “Fuck it let’s do it.” You raised your body and brought down your shorts, hitting the back of your head in the process causing a loud laugh to erupt from Chan’s lips.

“Stop laughing and help me.”

“What did you want me to do? Look at you like you’ve sprung a third head?” He helped you take them off and threw them over the front seat. “You’re right I prefer you laughing.” You nodded before straddling his thigh and hooking your arms around his neck. He hummed and placed an arm underneath his head smugly before grabbing hold of your hip with his other one.

“Go on baby girl, I’m giving a free pass to get off on my thigh.”

“Like I need a pass anyway.”

“Hmm…I guess you’re right. I succumb to you in every possible way. All you have to do is open your mouth and ask.” Chan brought his arm down again before reaching over and placing his thumb against your bottom lip. He tugged on it making you open your mouth before inserting it, your tongue swirling around the calloused digit making him groan. “I miss seeing your mouth around me but I guess that can wait, now move baby.” He gave your hip a light tap before inserting his hand in between the waistband of your panties and groping your ass cheek.

You opened your mouth in an inaudible moan, his thumb falling out of your lips and onto your chin painting it with your saliva. You moved your hips experimentally, testing the waters scared that the fantasy you had been creating in your head wouldn’t be as pleasurable as you had pictured. Only to be proved wrong when the friction of his bare thigh against your panty clothed core sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Back to my propositions. If you can come undone on just my thigh, I promise I’ll fuck you until your seeing stars.”

Chan snickered watching your face contort in blissful pleasure as you started to confidently move your hips. He nosed at your neck before licking a strip up the shell of your ear making you whimper. “Does this make you feel good?” He teased, a smirk evident in his voice as he bounced his leg up. A choked moan escaping your chapped lips joining the heat in the air, while you shamelessly started to grind down on his thigh.

“G-God this is better than I imagined.” You threw your head back resting it on the seat in front of you. “I don’t know what’s better, hearing you say you’ve imagined this or watching it happen in front of me.” His bottom lip found its way in between his teeth. He clawed at your hips guiding you into a steady rhythm before taking his free hand and inserting it in the front of panties making you gasp.. He guides his fingers lower, gathering your slick before taking them out and bringing them up to his lips, lapping them sensually while you watched with hooded eyes.

“I want to feel you inside me, please.” You sat up and tugged at his shirt before bringing it over his head. “Please baby I want to feel full.” You dug your nails into his chest feeling the tension build up in the pit of your stomach.

“You will, once you come.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. He kissed your cheek before undoing the clasp of your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders. “It’s amazing how I don’t have to do anything for you to fall apart.” He boosted, taking your earlobe in between his teeth. You moaned out loudly as he started bouncing his leg and pushing you down on him even further.

“Let go for me baby.” He whispered in your ear before leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck. He bit down on your collar bone making you cry out as your body shook. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, sighing out his name. Chan let out a satisfied hum as he held your body close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You panted as your head fell in the crock of his neck. You sighed happily and ran your hand down his toned stomach, playing with the knot of his swimming trunks.

“That was the hottest thing ever love, we should do it more often.”

If there was one thing you would never complain about regarding your boyfriend was the fact that he always kept true to his promises. But if there was one thing that you could complain about was how truly evil he was when it came to giving you what you wanted.

You hated it.

“Channie stop fucking around and just get on with it.” You groaned as he pressed the head of his cock on your clit.

“Patience is a virtue honey.”

“Well my patience is wearing thin, if we take any longer the guys are going to come looking for us.” You arched your back as he ran his cock down your pussy lips, making you clench over nothing. He pulled back and spread your arousal along with his precum over his angry head, giving himself a few tugs before positioning himself at your entrance again.

“Frankly I am a little offended that you’re thinking about other men, while we’re in such a compromising position.” Chan says as he slowly starts to push in, your heat taking him and wrapping around him deliciously. Even after years of dating he still had such an overwhelming effect on you and he knew that. It made his chest swell up with pride knowing he was the only one that could make you feel the way he did.

“You always take me so well, always so tight. It’s like you’re made for me sweetheart.” He groaned once he was fully sheathed inside of you. Chan leaned down and captured your lips with his, swallowing your whimpers as he slowly started moving. He kept his pace, giving you time to adjust to him knowing fully well that it had been awhile since the two of you had had some alone time.

“B-Baby…f-fuck. You can move a little more.” You mumbled against his lips, clinging onto him. Your nails blissfully digging into his shoulder blades making him moan. He picked up his pace, his mouth trailing down the navel of your breasts, mumbling sweet sinful phrases, etching them into your skin. You arched your back, pushing yourself further into his mouth as he started hitting the mushy soft spot inside of you. Impressed that he had wasted no time in finding it, proving to you once again that he knew your body as if it were his second skin.

“Angel please let me cum inside of you.” He begged his kisses on your skin getting more desperate as well as his thrusts, causing the little coil of pleasure to form in the pit of your stomach. And as much as you didn’t want this moment to end, to stay underneath him in the cramped back seat of his car. To beg him to make you come undone over and over until your body couldn’t handle it anymore. You knew you couldn’t. It had been well over ten minutes.

“Hmm…are you sure?” You placed both of your hands on either side of his head pulling him off your nipple. The loss of his mouth disappoints you but you need to see his face. Needed to see the pleasure he was feeling painted over his perfect features. “Are we ready for that?” You let out a whimper as his thrusts got slower yet harder, making it a point for you to really feel him inside you. To take in how the head of his cock hit your g-spot. To feel the ridges and his veins pulsing against your soft velvety walls, indicating that he was starting to get close.

“More than ready…p-please I want to fill you up with my cum.” He begged resting his forehead against yours, his mouth opened with pleasure. His hot alcohol induced breath fanning your face making chills run down your spin. You nodded, your whimpers getting more desperate as he started to rub his thumb along your clit in moderate circles. The pressure increased as the two of you desperately started to chase your highs. The heat of his car wrapping like a blanket around the two of you making the intensity of the moment even higher.

It made you feel as if the two of you were back in high school and sneaking around with one another. Making out in the same seats during lunch time choosing each other rather than your food. It brought back memories of all the nights underneath the stars at the abandoned football field, listening to him spew random facts about space. And the first night the two of you made love to one another by the lake on a raggedy old blanket his grandma had given him for the holiday season. It was overwhelming to have him this close to you always. To feel him and every inch of his body knowing very well you were the only one that was able to make him come undone the way he always did. And it sent you to the moon.

“C-Channie I’m close.” You breathed out. Your hands moved down his back, pushing him deeper into you. Trying your hardest to feel him closer than what he already was. He moaned out your name like a prayer, his thumb on your clit getting faster as well as his deep thrusts. The dam that had been kept away broke and you felt your orgasm crash harder than before.

“F-Fuck me.” Chan moaned his head falling into your neck as he came undone, painting your walls with his sticky substance. He thrusted into you a bit more, your walls milking him out as he mumbled sweet praises against the shell of your ear.

“I already did.” You joked, a low laugh escaping his lungs as your chests heaved against one another. “I have a proposition for you now.” You whispered snaking your hand up his back and resting it against the back of his head.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We should do that more often.” You giggled. He raised his head giving you a smug look before cupping your chin and bringing it up so his lips were hovering over yours. “How about a round two and we call it a night.” He proposed giving you a chaste kiss before rubbing his nose against yours.

“I think that’s the greatest idea you’ve had all day.”

Chan held onto your hand tightly as the two of you slowly made your way back to the beach camp. Your body was exhausted and you could tell Chan’s was also. Which made you laugh as sometimes the two of you liked to think you had the same stamina you had when you were younger. Each time you were proved wrong but neither of you liked to admit it.

“Finally, we were starting to think you guys got kidnapped.” Seokmin said as he leaned forward roasting a marshmallow.

“To be fair DK and Hoshi were the only ones that thought that. The rest of us knew exactly what was going on.” Vernon spoke, taking a bite out of his s’more, groaning in disappointment when the melted marshmallow fell out of the confinements of the cracker and onto his chin.

“We were looking for eye drops, which by the way I know you took.” Chan sat down on one of the empty lounge chairs. He pulled your arm gently before circling them around your waist and bringing you down onto his lap. You smiled shaking your head as the lewd comments started to filter in.

“I knew that was code for sex.”

“No it’s code for actually looking for eye drops.” Chan gazed over at you. “Right baby?” He sent you a playfully wink making you laugh. No matter what came out of your mouth next, the teasing would never stop. And you knew they would be bringing up the eye drop story as they were now deeming it, until the day you took your last breath. So you shook your head and gave Chan a quick peck before turning to face your friends.

“Chan’s right we were just looking for eye drops.”

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 2: Try harder, Paradis (Written Portion Included)

 Your brows furrowed - a small, nearly unnoticeable pout settled on your face as your index finger hovered over the reply button. You were hunched over the counter as your fingers danced across the keyboard, various snarky responses fluttering onto the screen only to be immediately redacted, another comment snippier than the last taking its place. At one point you got fed up and decidedly wrote ‘Fuck you Miya’, and to your horror almost clicked ‘reply’ before your reflexes caught you and quickly tapped on the ‘cancel’ button instead. A familiar ring sounded through the bakery at the arrival of a new patron, tearing your eyes away from the current dilemma as you shoved the phone into your back pocket, a smile as bright as sunshine replacing your recently sour features. It was decided then that you would deal with it later, maybe with some of Tendou’s or Lev’s help. They were good at being bitchy when they needed to.

Try harder, Paradis.

The comment burned itself into the back of your memory the rest of the day as you sat on how best to reply, and truthfully, you still had no idea. In reality, you knew next to nothing about this business. You were aware that they were located in Osaka, thanks to their twitter profile. You also knew that it was run by Atsumu Miya’s brother, who’s name escaped your memory and you’re far too petty lazy to bother googling it - and that for some reason, they’ve decided that Paradis would be their target practice for their criticism and holier than thou attitude. It was easy to assume the attention came from Atsumu Miya’s shout out after their visit a couple days ago, but why they’ve taken it so personally, you probably would never know.

Regardless, you couldn’t deny that the attention you’ve gotten from your little spats between the two business was nice - you and Tendou had been talking about wanting to expand and open up more locations in other prefectures (Tendou grins as his hands gesture dramatically. “No no, Y/n, think bigger, like Paris”), but the process of saving up ended up being slower than you two had anticipated. It wasn’t like you guys weren’t making a profit or anything - you had quite a few regulars and had a growing list of clientele that chose your bakery as their supplier for their restaurants, events, etc. But living was expensive; between the business expenses, rent, food, and bills, you had to admit less than you would have liked ended up taking residence in the cleaned out pickle jar that was tucked away under the kitchen sink - the one Tendou insisted on using because ‘with cash, it feels more real’, and had Tendou’s messy scrawl in bright fuchsia ink, ‘Paris’, across a crooked streak of duct tape that had been clumsily torn from the roll. A smile tugged at your lips at the thought of someday being able to take Satori to Paris like he’d always wanted. 

“Paradis, I’m home. You in?”

“In the living room,” you called back, looking back down at the tweet you had been once again staring at for too long a time.

“You would not believe what Ushiwaka texted me today, he- uh, you good?” 

You snapped your attention up at him and blinked at the defensive posture he held. “You look like you’re gonna set something on fire. I support you, of course, but I gotta hear the tea before we get the Kerosene.” A laugh emitted from you then, loud and boisterous, your head thrown back against the couch cushion. 

“Sorry, it’s this stupid Onigiri shop,” you explained as you showed him your phone with a sigh. Tendou squinted at the text, then leaned back with a grin. “ What’s wrong? I kinda like them, they’re snarky.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t mind a little harmless twitter beef, but I almost feel like while I’m trying to keep it light and airy, this guy seems like he’s ready to go for the jugular.” The bitter taste left in your mouth at the mere mention of him made you scrunch your nose, lips puffed out slightly. Tendou must have taken note of the pout because he sighed and climbed onto the couch cushion you were leaning up against. Long, nimble fingers found their way into your hair as he hummed to himself. “Well,” he began, the mischievous lilt to his voice not going unnoticed by you.

“I have some news, but I don’t know how well you’re gonna take it.”

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun Facts - 

Whenever Kita tweets from the account, he uses the little Onigiri emoji to finish off all his tweets. He’s cute like that.

While Osamu does use emoji’s from time to time, he is partial to the :) because it just exudes bitch energy and he’s into that.

While Atsumu’s “pull your head outta your ass” might not have seemed very friendly - he knows its what Osamu needs, and frankly, wants to hear. Twin thing, you know?

You and Tendo live together, have since you were 17. You guys are platonic soulmates

One of your core memories with Ten was when you were both drunk in your apartment, and Tendou had insisted on a French accent for the better part of two hours because it was always a fool proof way to make you laugh, especially when you’re borderline shitfaced. When you were in the kitchen opening up another bottle of wine, you heard Tendou summon you in a sing song, slurred voice “Oh Paradis~” and for some reason, it stuck and suddenly Tendou calling you Paradis was second nature to you guys. So when you guys had finally made enough to open up your own store and had to come up with a name, Paradis just felt right.

A/n: Another chapter done!! I went back and forth between whether I wanted to add a written portion to this chapter or not, and ultimately settled on the little snippet above - I really just wanted to open the door back over to Paradis so we can get a little more of my favorite little bakery, as well as dive into Y/n and Tendou’s relationship! As always, I hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to reach out if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Taglist -

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude @doctorspencereid​ @keiarma @cherriechurros

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 11

<- Chapter 10

Summary: The end of a journey and the start of a new one

The world was beautiful—bright blue skies stretched overhead with a few lazy white cotton puffs drifting unhurriedly through and topping distant snow-covered peaks. Insects fluttered and chirped in the afternoon heat from the tall grass that lined the dirt road at the center of town, where tiny white and yellow flowers bloomed. Inside the gloomy church, you hadn't even noticed what was waiting just outside.

It was not a peaceful summer day, however. Word travels fast in a small village, though not always well or with accuracy, and a general chaos turns in the air—villagers carrying buckets of water clamor toward the smoke and others, still screaming, clamor to get away. It won’t be long before men with muskets come to hunt the great beast who had caused the calamity and abducted a bride from her wedding.

A large but fast warmblood waits, loosely tied to post just outside the church door. You could swear you’ve seen it somewhere before.

The creature sets you on its back side-saddle, before climbing on behind you and spurring the horse to a gallop. Behind you, a handful of villagers stare after you in shock.

“We shall be long gone before they recover enough to come after us,” he says, a laugh brightening the edges of his voice. You grin into the wind, fingers grasping at a handful of chestnut mane. You’re both exhilarated, and can hardly believe what just happened.

As you continue down the road, reality has to catch up sooner or later. Fear creeps back into your mind.

“Where are we going? What will we do?!”

“Are you not happy? You came with me of your own accord...”

“Of course I’m happy! “Of course I’m happy! You rescued me from that nightmare.” You’re not sure how to show your affection while trying not to fall off a galloping horse, so you nuzzle your face against the arm he has wrapped around you. “Only, we still have the same problem we had yesterday,” you frown.

“In truth, I may have wallowed and wasted away in self-pity, doubting if interference on my part was wanted, but I was encouraged to action. There is something that may assuage some of your apprehension.”

He slows the horse and turns its reins down a narrow path into the forest, barely visible from the road. You ride for several minutes, ducking sharp branches that tug at your dress, winding through the undergrowth until it opens up upon a small clearing at the edge of the river. The water is cool and clear, far calmer than the angry brown churning that overflowed the banks in the spring.

“This is where we first met, isn’t it?”

He slides himself off the saddle and lands softly in the tall grass. Taking the reins under the animal’s chin, he leads you toward a figure waiting at the far side of the meadow, under the dappled shade where the forest line hangs just over the riverbank. A smaller horse grazes idly beside them. He raises a large hand and waves to them. The figure waves back, mahogany curls bouncing with the movement, the light catching on their long, fussy sleeves.

It couldn’t be.

“Stop where you are!” she barks as the creature approaches too close. “Fifteen feet, remember our deal?” She holds up a hand in front of her eyes and squeezes them shut as if to erase him from her vision.

“Bess?” you stammer.

She looks up at you with big brown eyes and smiles. “Sorry for missing your wedding. I heard it sucked.”

You jump off the horse and nearly knock her her flat with the force of your hug. “What are you doing here? How did? What? And you didn’t—” your mouth is running at a million miles a minute yet you can’t quite manage to articulate words.

“Alright, alright,” she pats your back. “I am astonishing, I know.” She steps back and gestures to a large leather saddle bag next to her on the ground. “While everyone was distracted, I packed everything you’ll need to survive. Baked some hardtack special for you, so you shouldn’t starve for at least a month, though I recommend foraging something to supplement it.”

“This… this was your idea?” Your jaw hangs open. “But I… But you...” Your open jaw wobbles in disbelief, your last memory of Bess wide-eyed with terror and screaming.

She tucks a hand on her hip and looks aside. “I saw what I saw, and I was shocked. Frankly, it would have been a lot to process even without a damned—whatever you call him—involved. I didn’t say anything of course, but it was distressing. I didn’t know what to think. That you were cavorting with the legions of Hell after all? Then I recalled your strange behavior of late—your distraction, your mysterious smiles and contented sighs. Always hiding away in that barn yet refusing any aid with your chores. After I could breathe again it was not difficult to put together. I’m not a dummy, dummy,” she smiles.

“Suddenly they were forcing you to marry Ferdinand. I knew you would never do so willingly, but I had no power to stop their machinations. I didn't know what to do, so on a hunch, I checked your barn and found this brute curled on the floor with ten cats, weeping into one of your chemises. Thus I recruited him to my aid.”

The creature steps forward and gestures a large hand toward Bess in a friendly manner. “It was she who secured the horse and supplies, and who suggested—”

Bess waves him away sharply, clamping a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry, guy, I cannot even look at you.” She shudders deep and sickeningly to her core. “You are fucking crazy,” she says to you, “I don’t get it. But this fellow makes you happy, doesn’t he?” You nod. “Then I am happy for you. This town has been a prison for you ever since we were children; I watched it draining your life, your dreams. So take your scary boyfriend and get out of here!”

Tears sting the back of your eyes. The creature was right—all along, Bess would have understood. Instead of confiding in a friend, you let fear lead you by the nose into a trap from which the two of them busted you out just before the door could snap shut behind you forever.

“I should have told you.” You wipe your eyes, laughing softly. “I’m an idiot.”

“No…” she coos soothingly, with some hesitation. “Well, yes. A little. But we love you.” She makes a visor over her brow with her hand and points in the general direction the massive, ominously looming creature is standing. “He loves you quite a lot, you know.”

“I know,” you smile, blessing him with a gaze affectionately returned (though he keeps his distance from the flighty Bess, occupying himself by packing up the horse). “He’s wonderful.”

“It takes all types,” she shakes her head. “Alright then,” she clears her throat, steeling herself, “Ride as hard as you can until you reach the next town. Blake is our fastest, strongest horse and should be able to bear the weight for a sprint of that distance. That should be enough of a head start to then disappear on foot, especially if nobody knows your intended destination is Geneva. If you would be so kind as to return the horse to the livery stable there—it is run by my cousin, and he won’t ask any questions. When you reach your destination, I expect a letter or I’ll think you’re dead.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

Her eyes grow wet. “It isn’t my journey. This place is not so much a cage for me as it has been for you. Though one day, I hope, we shall meet again.”

“I will miss you.” Your lower lips quivers with unspoken sorrow. She hugs you fiercely and protectively one last time before pulling back with a sniffle.

“Now go on! You must hurry before they come looking for you.”

The creature reaches down a hand. You clasp it, warm and strong in its grip, and he pulls you up onto the back of the muscular horse. Bess waves, running after you on foot as he kicks the horse into a brisk canter. “Don’t forget that letter!”

Tears stream down your face as you turn in the saddle and watch Bess and the river grow smaller and smaller, and eventually be swallowed up by the forest. You inhale deeply and let out a long, shaking breath.

“Are you all right?” the creature’s question vibrates in his chest, pressed to your back.

“Yeah.”

He is silent for awhile. The wild exhilaration of your escape from the church has withered and been replaced by a mournful determination to move forward. To begin new lives. The reality is not so glamorous as you reminisce on all the things you are leaving behind—Bess, Edelweiss, your flock of chickens and barn cats, the moss-covered boulders that were your secret place since childhood—yet you are ready to build that new life, whatever challenges lie ahead. You’ll have the best help one can hope for.

You let your weight shift back so your head rests against the creature’s chest. His long black hair flutters around you in the wind. He leans down and presses gentle kisses on your hair and your shoulders, and a comforting warmth spreads beneath your skin. You feel safe and cared for.

“Do you hate me? You must hate me,” you murmur into the wind, but his sharp ears pick up every word.

“I love you,” his chest rumbles. “You are my life, as much as the air that fills my lungs. Why should I hate you?”

“I was useless. I gave up. I was so terrified, I gave up on us. How can you ever forgive me?”

“You saved my wretched life long ago, dear angel.” He holds the reins in one fist, and slides his other hand under your arm, caressing your side and splaying out his fingers over your belly, smoothing the fabric of the gown. The gesture is warm and possessive, and keeps you secure on the speeding horse as you melt into him, intoxicated by his touch. “You dragged me out of misery into the light—cared for me with patience and love I never believed myself deserving of. You stood beside me and tended my wounds of both flesh and of my soul. Your company alone is a gift of which I was made unworthy. I have always wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“Now we’re even, huh?” you laugh.

“No,” he replies softly and insistently. “I think I would like to continue paying you back.”

The hand he had rested on your belly glides up to tip your chin toward him, and he presses a precarious kiss to your lips. A small jolt of hooves over the terrain sends you clutching for mane, but his steady hand darts back around your waist to keep you balanced.

“I will have to exact more payment once we have arrived on solid ground yet again,” you promise sinfully, resting a hand over his and squeezing it. “I want to kiss all of the scars on your handsome face.”

His chest vibrates with an eager hum of anticipation.

As you ride away from your old life, you feel something changing deep in your bones. You are already farther from your home than you have ever been, and ahead of you is the wide horizon of blue skies speared by sharp mountain peaks. You look up at the closest mountain to the road. It is not one you think you have seen before, although its shape is hauntingly familiar, like the face of a childhood friend, after years of separation, as an adult.

“What mountain is that?” You point to it.

“It is the white-crested peak of the great mountain that overlooks your town. The one I greatly admired from the window of the hayloft. We face its west slope, now.”

A wave of excitement for the future surges through you like electricity. What will your life look like from a fresh angle?

[its-max-okay]

TWIST MY ARM || plot drop .o3

Thursday 22 October 2020; Afternoon. You are halfway through your shift when an emergency patient shows up at the Triage Center. His left arm from the elbow down is missing and the stump is bleeding heavily. He is also missing several of the fingers on his right hand. He has avoided answering any and all questions about how he received these injuries but after looking them over you’re fairly certain they were blown off by an explosive device, possibly one he was working on.

This patient is a Club Strongarm and has already paid the non-Spade fee for healing. 

Partway through an exhaustive anatomy study with a couple of the lower-ranked Emitters, Max might’ve been lowkey praying for something more exciting to happen. Even a sprained wrist from the training grounds could’ve spiced things up; she would’ve settled for a Command Sergeant Major with a papercut, quite frankly, but what she was ultimately delivered was much more of a handful than that.

There were two things Max was positive she should not be taking this much delight in: one, that her source of excitement was the fact that someone was horribly hurt; and two, that this was going to be her first real shot at attempting to regrow a patient’s limb. It was funny how reluctant people were to chop off so much as a finger for the sake of her practice. She couldn’t even talk Kev into it, and there was a lot he was willing to do for her.

Granted, she’d really have preferred her first go at this not be with the likes of a Strongarm, and a really fucking shifty one at that -- but beggars couldn’t be choosers, obviously, and Max wasn’t about to look a gift amputation in the mouth.

“Back right-hand room,” Max ordered, leaving little room for argument as she stepped to the side and pointed with conviction. The two propping the injured man up followed her lead without argument. A third Emitter started to fall into step, but Max caught her by the elbow to lean in and murmur, “I need you to sedate him. Put him all the way under. I don’t want him to move while I’m working, but I also don’t want him to wake up for a good while after I’m done.” Max raised her eyebrows meaningfully. “Understand?”

The woman’s eyes widened for a moment before she nodded, and quickly. “Yes, Sergeant Major.”

“You’re going to help him?” Kev murmured dubiously from where he hovered at her elbow, and Max hesitated only briefly before nodding.

“We’re obviously gonna need to get more information out of him, and I’m hoping nothing can guilt trip into answering questions like, hey, you ungrateful bitch, I grew your whole arm back; throw me a bone.” Kev only looked more dubious. Max shrugged, undeterred. “Anyway, come on. You’re gonna watch.”

Kev paled.

By the time Max brushed between the curtains to assess her newest patient, the man was already heavily sedated and his shirt cut back, the wound hastily cleaned but still bleeding. Kev made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat that Max ignored, dragging a chair loudly from the corner to plant at the man’s side before cracking her knuckles.

This was liable to take a while.

‘Thick skin,’ she thought absently to herself, Anton’s words coming to mind as a slow sweep of her hand worked to stem the flow of blood, pinching together muscle fiber and flesh until she had a neater foundation to work on. The man’s skin didn’t look any thicker than it ought to -- and gods knew they all had a pretty clear view of that -- but as Max let her eyes unfocus and started to build on what was lost, she could feel a soft, stubborn resistance.

This was going to take a while.

The rest of the Triage center fell away. Max hadn’t even noticed if any of the other students had snuck in to watch, nor was she likely to notice if any additional emergencies felt like taking place beyond the sanctuary of their drawn curtain. She had one focus and one focus only, and that was unspooling thread after silvery thread from her core through her fingertips to fortify and pull together flesh and relentless bone. As before and as always he worked layer by layer, inside-out, taking breaks from the exhaustive thickness of his bones to fold softer layers of muscle and skin around them.

The longer she worked the heavier and heavier Max’s elbows leaned at the edge of the bed, shoulders sagging and breaths growing shallow. She’d made it so far as the wrist, and while reworking the twin radius and ulna was a whole task in and of itself, the wrist was going to be a particular bitch. There were so many individual bones in such careful alignment -- and maybe this guy didn’t deserve full range of motion in his joints for whatever dumbass thing he’d done to land himself on their doorstep, but Max was going to give it to him, anyway. Maybe she’d leave it with a weird little click when it moved a certain way; something to remember her by.

‘Asclepius, give me strength.’ The thought -- the prayer -- was intrusive, unbidden, but the sentiment stood: if the Old God was watching, if he really cared enough about one foul-mouthed Emitter and the crystal core nestled deep inside her, he could spare half a minute’s attention.

Whether or not her god heard her, apparently Kev did. Maybe she’d accidentally murmured her prayer aloud or maybe she just looked especially rough; either way, she felt the young Healer’s hands settle gently, almost reluctantly, at her shoulders. Max drew a shaky breath through a ghost of a smile and dug her heels in.

She visualized the carefully penned anatomical structures in her father’s journals, ones she’s painstakingly copied and re-copied and committed to memory. Scaphoid. Lunate. Trapezium--

Max flinched even as her thumb formed and sculpted the next delicate piece of bone, feeling the edges of even her expanded core start to fray. She wanted a chance to push her new limits, and she was getting it -- she only hoped she wouldn’t find them before she was finished.

“Trapezoid. Capitate. Hamate. Triquetrum…” Max sucked in a breath, briefly interrupting the recitation she knew by heart, knew in her sleep. Kev’s fingers gave her shoulders a reluctant but fortifying squeeze. She continued. “Pisiform. Fuck.”

Nineteen delicate bones to go. ‘Could just make it five,’ she thought to herself with a wry, borderline delirious amusement as she continued. ‘Five weird finger-sticks…’ Max cut the thought off before she made herself laugh. The metacarpals and phalanges, at least, were relatively uniform and didn’t need to slot together so particularly and delicately as the carpals.

Max could feel her esophagus tightening as she smoothed new skin over more delicate knots of muscle. ‘That’s new,’ she noted distractedly, feeling as though the rough, fuzzy edges of her expanded core were starting to bleed into and lash out at what was closest in protest of its prolonged use. It was stronger, obviously, but more petulant -- much like its owner.

By the time Max had finished the left arm down to the fingertips and neat pink fingernails, her entire insides felt like they were sandpapered raw and rebelling against her. The problem was, she wasn’t quite done. They weren’t quite done.

“Other hand.”

“Max--” Kev started reluctantly, ever the last to attempt to school her on her limits.

“Other hand.”

Kev left her only long enough to step in and reach over the man’s body to grab his opposite hand, and Max took a measure of pride both in how quickly he moved and how little he balked at the charred stumps of fingers.

With the practice from the first under her belt and the better general shape it was in, Max made comparatively quick work of the Strongarm’s other hand and the remaining few fingers even as her breaths grew ragged and thin. She didn’t even have the energy to swear when she finished, which was telling -- her head simply bowed, eyes squeezed shut and prickling, before she pushed the man’s hand off of his stomach to flop back to the other side of the table.

Kev was saying something, either to her or those nearby, and while she couldn’t hear exactly what Max still felt the briefest, most exhausted surge of pride. He’d stuck it out, and better yet, he hadn’t puked over her shoulder.

She could feel his gawkish arms trying to guide her out of the chair, and Max moved with the touch and without complaint. “Alert the General,” she insisted blearily, leaning her weight into Kev as they made their way towards the opposite far corner where he could help her onto an empty cot. “I know he’s busy… but…” The Emitter struggled to focus as she stretched out, head sinking into the pillow with a prolonged exhale, feeling her muscles and organs shifting around the shrapnel edges of her depleted core. Her face twisted into a grimace, one that only relaxed with the weight of Kev’s hand on her shoulder again. “He doesn’t have to come, but someone’s gotta… tell him what happened… and who we got…”

The high Emitter fell quiet for a moment, eyes shut and apparently relaxed. Kev shifted uncomfortably at the side of the bed, and would’ve stepped away if she hadn’t suddenly grabbed the front of his uniform.

“And get me a goddamn sandwich.” A pause. “Please.”

[chorusnihili]

I'd love to hear more about the development of your Gaster! :D

BACKSTORY ASK MEME 1. How did you first come up with your muse’s backstory, if you did at all? Continued from here Also asked by @alagaster 

So I left off with the question of just how Gaster's soul ended up in pieces.

I’m actually going to detour at the moment and say that it was around that point that I had decided to make the blog.  I had a vague beginning and an ending, and usually that’s not enough for me to want to start, but I was excited, I had a lot of fun, so I went for it.

Honestly, one of the first things I need to have before I even think of making a blog is a good url.  Urls are super important to me, and generally, whether or not I think of a good one is a key factor in whether or not I actually make the blog.

But in this case, I was too eager to start and I actually just threw together chorusnihil so I could get started on the pages.  The thought process remained the same--the chorus is from Greek plays, the group of characters that narrate the actions occurring in the play.  nihil is Latin for nothing--and I later changed it to nihili, which is Genitive, to roughly make the “chorus of nothing” or “nothing’s chorus,” a reference to the fact that the guy wiped himself out of history, and so there’s no protagonist to narrate.  This was supposed to be a temporary URL, but I got attached to it, for reasons I’ll get to later.  

(And really, isn’t a roleplay blog a modern chorus in it’s own way?)

Also there’s the phonetic pun-- CORE-us, anyone?

So I threw together a lot of the basic bios.  Most of the stat pages are really bland, most of the guts of the story comes from the hidden details, most of which were added on later.  

Something that came up around this point was Gaster’s relationship to Asgore.  A lot of fanon pictures them as really close.  A lot of fanon also portrays Gaster as Gaster as desperately wanting to retake the surface, which...as mentioned previously, my Gaster just, wasn’t into.  

So it sort of put Gaster in between Asgore and Toriel--he wasn’t happy about the decision to go to war with humanity, but he wasn’t going to abandon everyone, even if he did become really reclusive.  

I thought about the idea of the human souls, and I knew that Gaster would immediately hate the idea of working with them.  And that was convenient, too, since it allowed me to further separate Gaster and Alphys’s work.  At first, it was just a heavy disagreement.  The idea that Gaster killed Asgore accidentally came a great deal later, but it honestly served to be a rather critical piece of the story. 

The design of the DT Extractor and Sans and Papyrus were also very vague concepts at this point. 

Revisiting the idea of his fall.  We know from the canon dialogue that he fell into his own invention and that he was scatted across space and time.  

The CORE is the common culprit and it was what I had chosen, too.  But how?  How could an energy source... do that? 

So the idea occurred to me that maybe--maybe that was exactly as it was designed to do.  After all, even in the real world, we have power plants that operate by ripping apart molecules.  So... magic.  Why not magic?  A machine that derives power out of ripping apart magical energy.

And monsters are made out of magical energy.  

Falling into that sounds like a very grisly fate, indeed.      

The idea of how he got erased from reality isn’t one I really have solidified.  G has a couple of theories, and I’m willing to roll with either of them, but, really?  I’m not super interested in making a hard reason for it.  Namely to adapt to other versions of fanon other muns might have. 

Essentially, the theories say that the CORE destroying him released so much energy that it tore a hole in the Determination that pushes the timeline forward, thus allowing the Void to enter and merge with his soul.  

From there, either, 

A., his Determination very briefly was larger than that of the Timeline, and he himself invoked a Reset, but given that he was outside of the timeline at the moment, it was corrupted and only erased certain parts rather than fully resetting.   I think that this was the original theory that I used in the original RP.  

B., the Void acted as a corrective force trying to correct the hole in the timeline.  In doing so, it erased Gaster from the reality, thus replacing the existing timeline with a new one in which certain things never happened.  

C., something involving the power of Rewrite that Gaster has from the duality of Determination and Void.

D., something else entirely.  

And so we had the scattered Unbound Gaster. 

Which, funfact, the name Unbound Gaster for the form was supposed to be temporary, as well.  It’s a reference to Unbound Hoopa for Pokemon.  (Which is why Provoked Form Gaster isn’t called Unbound Form!)

Within the original RP that I developed most of this lore, Refused Gaster didn’t exist.  In fact, that roleplay ended with Gaster’s permanent death--and being permanently forgotten to the world.  A choice he intentionally made because the damage he did to the timeline by falling into the CORE was still present and only getting worse, and the only way to fix it was to allow his Soul to come together and pass on properly, thus allowing the damage to mend.

It was sad.  I cried.  I got emotional.  

I got attached to a traumatic asshole character I literally had for four days.  

Somewhere in here, I began to think about the origins of Gaster.  Like, way way way in the past.  Some people have Gaster being actively involved in the war, but it didn’t work for my portrayal, of having him be so afraid of humans and the surface.  So for it to work out, I had him really young for the war, really young when everyone got driven underground.  

I killed off his parents because ......

Frankly I didn’t want to design them :|

There’s a lot of varying opinions and interpretations about skeleton monsters, and it’s a section of the fandom I’ve decided to stray away from for now.  

But I didn’t want the loss to be traumatic.  Gaster’s been through a lot already, and I have personal vendettas against characters who solely consist of trauma after trauma.  

So I decided to make the loss very distant--he’s aware he probably had parents, or maybe he came to be some other way--but he doesn’t remember them, there’s no tragic “my parents were killed in front of me,” it’s simply something he didn’t have, and something he never needed given the nature of monsters to be kind and caring.  

...

But it felt like it was missing something.

So I started to toy around with this idea of a mentor, one who played the role of a father-figure, one who would plant the seeds to give Gaster the appreciation of science and knowledge.  Someone who could take this lost and terrified boy and start to turn him into the intelligent and steady doctor we end up with.  

Then came the problem of how he and this mentor would actually meet; Gaster’s scar proved to be a convenient excuse, plus it gave me a backstory for that, as well.  A few humans attacked him and delivered the injury, and Gaster’s mentor found the wounded boy and took care of him.  

The mentor is meant to be a vague entity, and you can view this in action in this memory.  (Only partially because I didn’t want to name them.)  Unfortunately, as per the nature of characters created post hoc, their fate was already sealed.  I made the choice to cut their influence on Gaster’s life short.  

(If they were around longer, who knows?  Maybe they could have prevented some of the stupider things Gaster has done.  Maybe they could have changed fate.  But...  as we’ll get to, everything happened exactly as it had to.)  

Again, I made it a very distant loss.  It’s a rather simple conclusion that not every monster would be happy vacating the surface--Gaster’s mentor had lived there their entire life.  It was their home, they were not leaving, even upon threat of death.  And so it was a bittersweet parting, but one with closure, and Gaster said his farewells and departed to the Underground.  

Honestly, what I find really shocking about this character is just how intensely he wants to do good.  I mean, I’m no stranger to good characters, but few of my characters push it as far as Gaster does, and how quickly that feeling came to me, considering he started in the original roleplay as a ruthless asshole bastard more than willing to fuck over and torture a bunch of children just for a chance at being whole again.  

Most of Gaster’s early life in the Underground found in this post was written on the spot as I wrote that post, so it came really late.  

I still find it hilarious that he used to work in therapy.  You’re well aware you need therapy you fucking bastard.  Quit denying it.  

So, revisiting the idea of Gaster and Asgore.  I do like the idea of them being close, and Gaster even calls Asgore his best friend.  The declaration of war put a huge strain on the relationship.  

I originally thought about the idea of him accidentally killing Asgore for shits n giggles.  At my heart I am indeed an angst gremlin, so I was just thinking about what an alternate timeline where that happened might be like.  After all, Gaster’s angry, Asgore’s full of guilt, with the way monster magic works, it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to think that it could happen.  

But the more I thought about it, the more it fit eerily well.  The guilt gave Gaster a reason to create Sans (and later Papyrus) as part of his belief in Karma (creating a life to replace the life he took) and to look into Alphys’s research into Determination enough to create the blueprints for the DT Extractor; both of these things were things that I couldn’t otherwise really fit into his storyline.  

And finally...

His declining mental state and despair over the concept of the DT Extractor was what led to him being distracted enough to make such a critical mistake and fall into the CORE.  

And given that the timeline changes when he falls, I realized that...  I could have this happen, and the current timeline be unaffected.  

Now, given that I said that I wanted to avoid more trauma in Gaster’s life, this decision might seem contradictory.  But, it also served a very important point--Asgore returning to life, that mistake being fixed upon his fall gave Gaster something to hold onto.  Something that made his fate not as awful as it otherwise would have been.  A small piece of solace in hell.  

Plus, Gaster’s guilt at the incident caused him to resign as Royal Scientist, further allowing him and Alphys to have their separate stories. 

And pretty much everything snapped together at that point.  Really, strangely well.  I joked before on this blog if I’m really the one writing it.

If Gaster had not killed Asgore, he would have never created Sans and Papyrus, he would have never created the DT Extractor blueprints; if he did not create the blueprints, he would have never been distracted enough to fall into the CORE, if he never fell into the CORE, the blueprints would have never ended up with Alphys, she could have never created Flowey, and if Flowey was never created, he could have never used the souls to break the barrier and the True Pacifist ending would have never come to pass.  

It all happened exactly as it had to.

It feels oddly poetic, given the way Undertale works.  

In some ways, it’s cruel.  Gaster regularly struggles with the idea that for his people to be happy, he had to literally be wiped out of existence.  But in other ways, it’s a comfort--for at least he knows that his suffering wasn’t for nothing.  That there was a purpose--that even if he had to be erased, he played a vital role in ensuring his people found victory. 

Oh.  One final note...  In finalizing this story, you may notice that Gaster follows a classic pattern.  We have a hero, who’s mostly good, but through his own flaws makes a tragic mistake and seals his own grim fate.

It’s called a tragedy and they’re common in Greek plays.

What was that about a chorus again?

I think that’s just about every important point I could cover.  That being said, if you couldn’t tell, this is a very fascinating topic to me, so if you have any further questions or need any clarifications, feel free to send them in.  

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

20, 27, 35, 40, 50, 59, 67, 88 for All Eight Characters (one each but if you wanna go Hog Fucking Wild feel free)

Alright so. I’m not going hog wild but! I decided to do two guys per question, one who was my first gut instinct for that question, and then one random character to spice things up! Do some character building in a direction I might not have thought to go, you know? 

Also bro this got so long so just. Putting it. Under a read more because I do respect your time and dashboard.

20. How would your character define love? Caspian: Love is when people stop to listen to you. When they smile when they see you, and sneak you an extra dessert when no one is looking. Love is being willing to bend the rules to make you happy, teaching you to hold your head up high even when you’re getting in trouble, and telling you to always look the world right in the eye when it wants you to back down. Love is giving up whatever you have to without a second thought for the other person’s sake, and knowing they would do the same for you. Love is taking the lessons they taught you, carrying them in your heart, swallowing your fear and setting out to bring them home. Ryker: Love is fleeting, and fickle, and fragile. Love is at best a luxury and more realistically a bargaining chip. It’s real, sure, but its primary use is to blind people to what’s hidden behind it. Some people may get lucky, but only a fool would bet on those odds. ...if you are lucky enough to find it, though, hold on tight. Real love, genuine, honest, reciprocated love, is worth doing anything for. The people you care about should know how you feel by what you do, not by what you say. Show love with discretion, but show it fiercely. 

27. How much have they given up to get to where they are in life, willingly or unwillingly? How much do they think they would give up to get to where they want to be, in the future? Raini: Raini I think is super interesting because I think she’s given up a fair bit, and she’s completely fine with the sacrifices she did make because she decided the benefits outweighed whatever she had to give up to get it. But on the other hand, giving something up unwillingly? Having something taken from her? Absolutely a cause for retribution at any cost. idk if I’m explaining the difference in a way that makes sense, but that distinction means the world to Raini because, even if the sacrifice is hard to swallow, at least she was in control of it. And like, the whole premise of the campaign is giving up shit! Giving up everything! And was it willing at the time? Yes! But coming out on the other side of it and not remembering making the decision and, quite frankly, not agreeing with the decision you made is rough! You’re yourself, you know because you’re you, but you’re also not yourself because that’s the whole point of what you did, so did you really do this? Was it someone else in a body you now inhabit? What happens to this new you when you regain your old memories, because there’s no way in hell you don’t at least try to get them back? It’s a lot to think about!! And that, and the core of this question, is why Raini doesn’t let this end without a Wish to restore the memory of whoever wants it. I don’t think she sees erasing them the first time as a decision “she” necessarily made -although whether that’s a philosophical issue or one of diverting guilt is open for debate- so she wants to reclaim what she sees as having been taken from her unwillingly. Pip: Tbh, the plot and premise of Strahd aside, Pip has lived a pretty charmed life. He fucked up plenty, but he always seemed to manage to stumble his way into where he needed to be when he needed to be there. Honestly, even within the module things didn’t go too badly for him! He lost a good friend at one point, and nearly died in that same fight, but other than that he fared pretty well. The biggest thing he’s given up in his life was his place in his home village, but honestly it’s like 50/50 on whether that was willingly or unwillingly. Like, he feels bad about the accidental arson? But also. It kinda kicks ass that he did then just like. Leave and it was fine. With his campaign over, I don’t really have much in the way of future goals for him! He’s just. He’s just fucking vibing. You know? So! Seems like he’s getting out of giving up anything in the future.

35. What is their most prized possession? If they have one that is. Ryker: For sure have talked about this before: it’s his hammers. He has two enormous hammers that he fights with, named Last Chance and Misery’s End. They’re sturdy orc made weapons with their names hammered into the side of each head in orc, that have been passed down from clan leader to clan leader for generations. They hit well, they don’t do much else, but when you’re regularly shattering knees, ribs, and skulls, what else do you need them to do? They’re sturdy, practical weapons. Reliable, and they remind him of home. He’s more comfortable putting his life in their hands than anything -or anyone- else’s. Brilliance: Her armor! For several reasons: 1. She paid extra to have it enchanted so that it repels dirt and blood and grime. After crawling through cult sewers to clear out some nasty boys, Brilliance decided that never again was she going to spend her short rest having to wipe blood or shit off her nice armor. When she upgraded to splint mail, she absolutely forked out that Armor of Gleaming enchantment. 2. Her shield specifically was decorated by her fiancee! Sienna likes to paint, and when Brilliance first got her shield for guard duty at the church Sienna took it upon herself to get out her paints and paint on a wreaths of vines and roses and birds and other lovely things, so that her love could always have a piece of her with her 💖

40. Do people expect a lot from your character or look up to them for something? Why or why not? Ayen: Unfortunately, Ayen is baybe. And even though she hasn’t outright told anyone how old she is, it’s becoming rapidly apparent that. Hey? They might have figured it out. It’s literally inconceivable how they could have pieced it together though?? I mean, how does anything about her not read as completely mature and put together elf woman thank you I’m an elf??  So, no. I don’t think anyone looks up to her. And that’s okay!! Yes she is a young adult with her own set of skills and her own value to add to the world and the people around her, but she would not thrive in a position of leadership like she thinks she would. She needs time to mellow out and settle down, and to learn how to make decisions quickly and responsibly. I think, one day, she’ll be able to show a lot of people how to do a lot of good. For now, though, she’s happy trotting along after Dad and rowing her and her new friend around in circles in a row boat, just because it’s fun to mess around sometimes. Auriga: Interesting question! Interesting question. I think in the collective sense, as part of the Court of Stars, definitely yes. They’re the rulers! They guide their people through the knowledge and wisdom accumulated over the course of millennia! I think Auriga specifically even is seen as having a closer connection to this wealth of knowledge, being a cleric and all. But I am toying with the thought that outside of the context of the council and the court, the people that make it up don’t have as much weight? There’s still respect of course! But while one star shining on its own is all well and good, without the context of those around it how are you meant to learn from what it has to say to you? Auriga understands this, it’s just part of their culture, and he’s in no way troubled by it. It’s the way things are meant to be, and so they will continue to be until it is clear that something needs to change! 

50. What’s their earliest memory? Auriga: Now full warning this is going to be a lot less detailed than Cog’s is just because I know him less, but I think Auriga earliest memory is something sweet and warm like. Sitting in one of his older sibling’s laps (while he’s the Baby of the family!) and just. Dozing against their chest while the rest of them sit in front of a roaring fire and just talk. He doesn’t remember a word of what was said, he just remembers being little and held and loved. Their family mostly interacts in the council room, I think, because when things get busy with ruling it’s so easy to just fall into work and let family time fall by the wayside. But when things get stressful, when he realizes he hasn’t interacted with his brothers or sisters outside their meetings in a while, I think this is one of the memories that comes to mind and encourages him to set aside whatever he’s reading and go off to be intentional about spending time with his brothers and sisters :) Cog: One of her earliest memories was when her magic first manifested! She was maybe six or seven, and Mama was busy at church and Daddy had gone out to check on some of the folks that lived a bit further out from town, and baby Cog was bored to tears. She knew she wasn’t supposed to leave home alone!! But there were some Cool Older Kids she wanted to impress, and they were going to sneak out and explore the swamp. They were big kids! They were like thirteen! Surely, nothing bad could happen if there were big kids with her! So she followed them out of town, and by the time they noticed their tag-along it would have been Way too much work to take her back home. Whatever. It’s fine. They start poking around the edge of the swamp, looking at weird fish and bugs and poking at mushrooms or whatever kind of shit grows in swamps. Probably getting eaten alive by mosquitos.  Well! Cog is having a grand old time playing with frogs and cattails, and she’d wandered off from the teenagers she was supposed to be staying with. She was up to her calves in the brackish water trying to recapture a frog that escaped her when she looked up to see a long, thin shape darting through the water straight for her. It was a cottonmouth, mutated by the Wasteland and nearly as big as she is. It hissed as it closed the distance between them, mouth open wide as it readied itself to lunge and sink its fangs into her. Cog screamed and threw her arms up to protect herself-  And then there was a burn of something wild and unfamiliar in her chest, a warm hand on her shoulder, and a flash of light so blinding that people swore later they could see it from town. Cog stood there for a moment, frozen and trembling, but when she gathered the courage to open her eyes everything within five feet of her was scorched clean, and the corpse of the snake that had charged her was bobbing, almost completely unrecognizable, in the water in front of her. Mama was furious with her when they made it back home, of course, but after hearing what happened? After hearing that Cog had finally managed to channel a spell, some rudimentary form of Word of Radiance? Well, there were much, much more pressing things to worry about, all of a sudden.

59. Have they ever had an encounter with someone that changed their whole life? Cog: HA Morgan opened up a can of “Talk About Ace” SOUP and folks it’s fucking lunchtime. Drink up assholes!!! I know I’ve talked about this a hundred times but I’ll never be sick of it: they’re JUST such good friends and they’ve been so so good for each other. Before they met, Cog was in a place in her life where she felt trapped and perpetually anxious, and Ace was restless and angry at the world. Neither of them felt like they could measure up to the expectations other people had for them, and Cog had turned that worry self-destructively inward while Ace had turned it outward. Ace’s straining at his leash brought him to Lafaroh, and Cog’s -at the time, Charlotte’s- soft heart had her defying direct orders to slip up to this stranger and warn him that he needed to leave before he got hurt. And Ace looked at Charlotte, at the genuine worry on her face for someone she’d only just met. And he looked at the town around them, at the way the people who passed by looked at him and how that look shifted from suspicion to shock and outrage when they saw Charlotte with him. And he did some math, and he realized whatever the hell was going on in this podunk town was a thousand times more interesting than anything that would ever happen back in New Alexandria proper. So of course, he settles in to pry. Charlotte, bless her, has many, many strengths; reading into people’s intent is not one of them. So when Ace starts asking questions, she’s happy to answer to impress upon him how important it is that he goes home! And the more she talks, the easier it is to just... keep talking? This man, this stranger from the Academy, is talking to her, listening to her like nobody ever has. And more than that, he actually seems to care! He has no reason to care that she’s worried she won’t be able to step up the way she knows her mom wants her to, but he’s clearly concerned and invested in her story. And even though she’s trying to keep things vague, she’s never been very good at deceiving people. Pieces start to fall in place, Charlotte lets more slip than she means to, and by the time they’ve been talking for an hour or so Ace has a pretty good picture of what’s going on here. It’s not safe here, not for him and certainly not for her, so he doesn’t even stop to consider whether it’s an offer he can make when he holds out his hand, both literally and figuratively, and tells her he can take her back to the Academy with him. And to Charlotte, who less than an hour ago had been weighing her odds of surviving the Wasteland alone if she ran away on her own, the door this man just opened to her? The way he’s reaching back through it to offer her a hand, to pull her through to a better, safer life? How can she say no?  They fought their way out of Lafaroh that day. Charlotte almost certainly wanted to try to slip out unnoticed, but they’d already attracted too much attention by letting townspeople see them talking. Charlotte goes home to quickly pack, and she doesn’t come back out of the house. Ace waits, and the sun starts to set, and she still hasn’t come back out. Something isn’t right. He knocks on the door: there’s no answer. He knocks again, louder. Then again. Finally, an angry looking man opens the door and starts to tell Ace to get lost, but there’s clear sounds of arguing inside coming from just out of view of the doorway. The man is big, but Ace is fast enough to duck inside and around the corner in time to see Charlotte struggling to get around a woman who looks strikingly like her in order to make a break down the stairs and toward the door. The next several seconds are messy and disjointed; no one expects someone in high level caster robes to take the staff off their back and start attacking with it, but the next thing Charlotte knows Ace has her hastily packed bag slung over one shoulder, has planted her firmly behind himself, and is holding her hand with one of his own while he levels his staff at her parents with the other. His voice is calm but hard as he explains that they’re leaving, because Charlotte made it clear that she isn’t safe or happy here. If they try to stop them, Ace can and will bring the full force of New Alexandria’s wrath down on their tiny, shitty town. He’s going to take Charlotte away, find her a place in the Academy, and they’re not going to say a word. And so they leave! With all of Lafaroh absolutely seething behind them, with Charlotte gripping Ace’s hand as tight as she can and willing her own not to shake, they set out together into the Wasteland and, ultimately, to New Alexandria.  I have Such a vivid mental image of the two of them camping out in the Wasteland the night before they made it back to New Alexandria, with the lights of the city just peeking over the horizon in front of them. They’re eating dinner over a fire Ace made Such a show of lighting with magic instead of the tinderbox one of them definitely had, and they’re talking about names Charlotte could use in New Alexandria because she’d quietly admitted earlier that day that the name “Charlotte” has so much baggage that she doesn’t want to carry anymore. And Ace, while he is trying to help, is also a dork. He’s throwing out every name that pops into his head, good or not, trying to see if he can get her to laugh at one of them. They spend a few minutes talking, Ace muses aloud over “Charlotte Olivia Grace” a few times, looking for some cute nickname he can pull out of a name like that. And then he pauses, and sits up, and looks at Charlotte, and nods. The suggestion that she go by “Cog” makes her laugh, but that’s a good thing. Ace is grinning too because some dumb shit he said finally got a smile of out Charlotte for the first time since they left her shithole town. She’s sort of laughing in spite of herself, and it eases some of the heaviness that’s been hanging over them the last few days, but after considering it for a moment? She loves it. Taking the name she was given, and making it her own in a way she knows her parents would hate? It feels good! She’s grinning ear to ear when she turns to Ace and nods in agreement. “Cog” it is. “Charlotte” dies in the Wasteland that night; Cog enrolls in the Academy the next day. In Cog’s eyes, Ace’s intervention literally saved her life. She went from being a scared little girl in the middle of nowhere with no future beyond the ramshackle walls of her small town, to an incredibly promising up and coming student of the Academy. She went from being told that the only use her magic had was what it could do for the Church, to blowing away professors who expected her to barely be able to manage a cantrip and being praised for her intuitive understanding of magic. And for Ace! Cog was the first person his actions truly, directly helped. He saw a problem, he stepped in, he fixed in. In a slow moving, insular city like New Alexandria, that wasn’t something he’d been able to do before. He saw how the good he’d done in helping Cog reflected and redoubled in the way she treated the people around her, and saw her making the choice to be kind not in spite of but because of everything she’d been through growing up. Bro like Ace’s character bio says “self-appointed big bro to Cog” and “he sent a letter to Cog thanking her for being a positive influence in his life”. This question got SO out of control as I wrote my Cog and Ace fanfic but! They deserve it! AND the party is going back to New Alexandria next session, so!! More Ace content soon folks stay tuned! Raini: Did you think I ran out of soup?? Did you think lunchtime was over? FUCK you! This is MY blog and I’ll wax poetic about my dnd characters and their friendships for as LONG as I want to! And there’s nothing you can do to stop me!!!!! Now this one in fairness probably won’t be as long as Cog’s was, just because I know that all the people who follow me are like. Actively in the campaign and various group chats where we discuss how important our characters are to each other. But do NOT make the mistake of assuming it’s because I love you any less. I love you so much. Yes homo. Where do we start? At the beginning, with our lizard. Y’all ever uh. Y’all ever met a dipshit lizard who you’re pretty sure you can trick into taking you adventuring but plan to ditch the second they become deadweight (i.e. whenever they go down for the first time, probably), except then you became like best friends and siblings by all but blood and you realize you’d rip the world in half for them without them even asking and you can’t even begin to imagine how you’d reconcile the hole they’d leave in your life if they left it? Have you ever slowly realized that you’re adding “except for him” at the end of every generally grumpy statement you make about the world? And then realized even more slowly after years of friendship that somehow the bastard managed to extend “except for him” to “except for them”, and you’re so much less disengaged from and disinterested in the world around you? Y’all ever had that happen to you?? Shit’s wild. And then. Y’all ever met a fucking cop who clearly has, like. An actual metric ton of baggage she’s refusing to even glance in the direction of? And at first, it’s a pain to have to circumvent her “morals” in order to get shit done. Honestly, it’s kind of always a pain. But even your crotchety ass has to admit there’s something about sticking so firmly to your guns regardless of the situation you’re put in that’s admirable, that the world would be a much better place if more people had that same iron will and a refusal to be moved. Even if they’re standing up for stupid shit, at least they’re standing up for something. And maybe you take some of that resolve and tuck it away in your chest, to give you something to grip onto when you need to dig in your heels and refuse to let the world knock you around. And then. Y’all ever met a druid who burns with an anger you, honestly, kind of understand? Who wants to be more than the world wants her to be so badly, in a way that you definitely understand? Have you ever gotten to watch over the course of weeks and months as she time and again made the choice to take that anger and that drive and point it at things that would hurt the people she cares about? By god, she’s leaving her mark on the world, and she’s doing that by burning the shit out of it. But, without fail, there’s always a circle of uncharred, untouched ground around each and every party member. And when you notice this pattern, you can’t stop yourself from noticing it again, and again. And you learn: sometimes, you’re angry at the world. Sometimes! You’re angry at your party members! But that anger points outward. Always, and unequivocally. You have your friends’ backs, even if you’re furious with them. And then you meet a fish and you learn that sometimes things just need to be hit a lot of time in a row, really hard, with a big fucking hammer.  Okay but you meet this fish who, somehow, despite being monotone and weird and a fish and clearly an outsider to like. Land culture? Which you guess is a thing, apparently. Despite all of that, they have an emotional intelligence that’s off the fucking charts. And quite frankly! For a long time, it makes you really, really uncomfortable! If you don’t tell somebody how you’re feeling, and you don’t, then they shouldn’t be able to figure it out. But, slowly, you start to see the value of it. Your lizard is upset about something, and they won’t tell you what, but you’re able to squint at them and slowly figure it out so you can fix it. A few days later a joke a party member makes rubs you the wrong way, and you swallow your pride enough to admit it and they just. Apologize? Just like that? They promise not to say it again? And fish expressions are so hard to read, but you can just Tell that they’re over there looking smug, the bastard. But while you’re definitely not ready to commit to this being a daily thing you can, begrudgingly, admit that you can see the benefits of “communicating” with the people around you. 

67. What was the most acidic remark your character’s ever given to someone? And their reaction? Brilliance: In like our third session, our warlock had disguised himself as a “beautiful woman” in order to flirt with the guy we were there to talk to to get information out of him (Note: They did not ask Brilliance, at any point, if she was willing to flirt with him instead. She would not have been, but they could have at least asked). So Brilliance was hanging out at the bar near this dude’s private booth while the warlock chatted him up, and when the warlock got up to leave the dude reached out to try and grab her arm. He missed, but Brilliance was on his ass in a second with her sword out like “If you had grabbed her hand, you would have lost your own. She’s not interested in you; let her leave.” He thought it was funny and kept calling Brilliance “sweetheart”, but I did get to put my sword through his gut before the end of the night SO. Who’s the real winner? Ayen: I rolled Ayen for this one and I want to respect that and not cop out, but I don’t think it’s super in her nature to snark at people. She’s just gonna tell you like straight up that you’re a dickhead, and that’s that. I think the only time we might get to snarking is if someone (Dad, a party member, etc.) said “leave it alone” and Ayen is Not Done. She might send some parting shots over her shoulder then, like a “You’re lucky I like this guy so much, or we wouldn’t be done here” or “Show your face again when my dad’s not around, if you’ve got the balls.”

88. Assuming they aren’t one already would your character prefer to be a Vampire, a Werewolf, or a Demon? Pip: Potentially a cop out! However. A little..... vampire frog? Hello Mr. Strahd. Are we friends now? Could be a vampire! We have seen that vampires are cool and hot and powerful if perhaps a little amoral but that’s okay, because they’re cool and powerful.  Caspian: I literally spent fucking forever looking at this because. She literally worships and derives her Sun Soul monk shit from Pelor, the god of the sun. So like! How the fuck you gonna be a vampire or a werewolf with that going on. Dude hates the undead too, so vampire struck out twice. Demon’s iffy too, because it very much goes against the whole “good aligned” thing she has going on. So I guess?? Werewolf is the least offensive?? She’ll just pray and hope Pelor is like. Cool. With it. Haha? Also objectively, a werewolf that worships the god of the sun is VERY funny so there is that.

[thephantomporg84]

I have complicated feelings about the reboot, it's kind of a shame that it was rewritten after the backlash. It seemed way more interesting than what we got by the 2010 teaser. It'd still be way more grimdark in spirit than DMC but at least it'd probably be better? The protag not being insufferable would be a plus. I wish they at least shared what the original story was. I know that the reboot is an old discussion but it's so clearly the skeleton of what it was planned to be, and it makes me sad

Nah it’s cool! It’s still interesting to bring up — I’m not one of those people who are just... unreasonably nasty about the reboot despite my distaste for it. I pretty much agree. I think there are some good ideas in that game, and that, on a whole, it’s not a terrible video game. It’s just a terrible DMC.

I’m with you, though — I’ve always been curious as to what the original story was, despite my dislike of a dark and gritty DMC as a whole. It’d still be nice to know. I feel like going full grimdark would have been better for the core content of this series versus the pseudo-intellectual conspiracy theory-tinged bullshit the reboot had to offer.

I feel like there are some changes you could make to the reboot as it exists to make it a much more interesting story. It’s... ah. Well. None of this is a great improvement, but just pulling from my memory of that game and a lot of suggestions that others have made for how they’d fix it (I think this has all been compiled once or twice on YouTube as well, for the the most part), this is what I would have done:

From jump street, the infamous succubus scene has to go. That is quite possibly the most cringe thing I have ever sat through in a video game and, to date, it makes my skin crawl thinking about it. Anyway.

Donte always came across, to me, like he’s trying to do an impression of Dante while lacking the original one’s wit.

I think Donte should have turned out to be an imposter. Let him be someone Dante saved or someone that saw Dante at work when they really shouldn’t have. Something like that. A good copycat — like a version of the guy that’s running around ‘wearing hockey pants’ in The Dark Knight.

Leave the sloppier fighting mechanics alone — he’s not trained like Dante and should, as a consequence, be left open and vulnerable a lot.

Real Dante has to keep saving him because of this. A Dante that’s just starting out would easily get fed up with doing this pretty quick and probably go off on Donte. Donte then seeks out demonic power like other DMC villains have done and slowly becomes a villain himself. Donte being delusional and copycatting Dante also could explain the darker depiction of things and the way Limbo works in this game. It makes all the galaxy-brained conspiracy theory bullshit type of vibe the game gives off (to me, at least) make more sense.

Vorgil shouldn’t have been Vergil or even Donte’s sibling — just some conspiracy theory wackadoo that Dante sees as a brother/listens to. Maybe even mistakes him as a missing brother (that he doesn’t even have) because he overheard Dante’s brother Vergil is actually missing or something.

They still plot to assassinate Kyle Ryder (Mundus) and his demon army/overlords or whatever (like the Bill O’Reilly stand-in). That basically stays the same.

At some point though, as they fight their way through these demons, the other shoe drops:

(:

Get to the late stages of the game. Get to Kyle Ryder’s office to kill him. He’s just a greedy fucking pig of a man, but he’s not a demon. Real!Dante shows up around this point to essentially stop a misguided, but ultimately-not-terrible kid from committing what would be a very public execution. Tries to talk him down despite Dante probably not being much older than this dude.

The Bill O’Reilly Clone and whatnot probably had it coming, but a lot of the ‘demons’ killed were just regular people that worked for Ryder or whoever. Not killing ‘Mundus’ still doesn’t just wipe the slate clean for all the domestic terrorism stuff they’ve been doing to satisfy their delusions and crackpot conspiracies up ‘till now.

This makes Dante vs Donte and Dante vs Vorgil the last fights of the game. Maybe Vergil was being manipulative from the sidelines the whole time and that’s the ultimate ending or something. You could end the game on a sinister note and open it up for a sequel or something. I think the original leaves the ending open, too.

Doing all this then changes the tone of the game from this fake-deep, frankly really uninteresting meta commentary on the power behind media and consumerism — which is more than a little hilarious and hypocritical for a $60 USD piece of media for consumerists — to a meta commentary about mental health and the absolutely insane lengths some people will go to (and things they will convince themselves of) in order to commit horribly dispoportionate acts of violence and terror against people whose worldviews and practices they disagree with... something that, ultimately, has a lot more staying power in the current social and political climate we live in. It’s been done before, but I feel like the game would have had more relevancy. And given that Ninja Theory was already planning/working on Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice, they would probably have been more in their element this way.

All that said, though: the mental health message is kind of tired as well, especially in the wrong hands, and the game still woulda been better in its own franchise. Or marketed as an AU/reinvisioning versus a hard reboot.

Also, outside of the actual game: Someone should have muzzled Tameem Antoniades’ stupid ass with a quickness the microinstant he started spewing his unfiltered bullshit. He did more damage to that reboot more than anything in-game ever could have.

[divine17]

↳ LOVE HER TOO | MASTERLIST

Fandom: Stranger Things

Request: “hey!! could you make steve x fem!reader where robin has a crush on steve’s girlfriend (reader) and robin gets drunk and tells steve this ! tyyy” - Anon

Warnings: Sadness/angst but slightly inspirational if you squint, a minor consuming a loooot of alcohol, minor ripoff of robin’s coming out scene (you decide whether or not that happened already or if this is that), i accidentally used some arctic monkey’s lyrics somewhere in here, that’s probably it

Word Count: 2123

A/N: this is actually kinda angsty/sad because i have no clue at all what direction you wanted this to go in so... i made it sad. because that’s what i do best.

“Your girlfriend...” Robin hiccuped, her gaze falling to the tiled floor. Her knees pressed up against her chest, her arms around them. She knew she should’ve been nervous as she internally prepared to spill her heart out to the brunette boy, but the warm alcohol coursing through her veins prevented that. She knew that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she’d regret it in the morning. Her newfound friendship with Steve would be ruined, most likely. But the liquid courage which she’d consumed (in an absolutely obscene amount) certainly didn’t want to let her hold back.

Robin wasn’t even completely, absolutely, one hundred percent sure how she ended up here, sitting in the kitchen floor of Steve Harrington’s parents house. She was at a party, some girl who works in the food court in the mall had invited her. Then she ditched her, not a word, no “Sorry, I can’t make it,” nothing. So while she was there, Robin decided to drink. Drink until she couldn’t feel the confines of her body anymore, drink until she was having a good time in the stuck-up party, drink until she forgot about the girl completely. Next thing she knew, her Scoops coworker was roping through the crowd to find her, gently taking her wrist and leading her back to his dark red car. She remembered being excited to see him at first, then annoyed that he made her put down her cup. Frustrated when he told her she was in too deep, but excited when he promised her a cheeseburger when she was sober. Delirious, yet relieved, when he told her that she was going to stay the night at his so her parents didn’t see her like this.

Steve took her into his house, silently thankful that his own parents were away for a couple days. Not that they’d care notice, much less care, that he had a drunk girl in the floor, but still. That’s one thing that he’d rather not have to explain. He gave her one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers and a hair tie, taking her clothes that smelled of that too-familiar scent of vodka and sweat and putting them in the wash. She changed clothes and disappeared, and found her shortly after sitting on the cold tile. So, naturally, he sat down opposite her. Both were silent until she spoke, asking about his girlfriend. Odd.

“Y/N? What about her?”

“You know... Do you remember when I told you about Mrs. Click’s class? At work, the other day? About me being jealous, and... obsessed? it was never because I had a crush on you, Steve. I just want you to know that.”

“Robin, you don’t have to-“

“It was because you had her. You had Y/N. She looked at you, and she still does, like you’re her whole world. Like you’re the only person she sees, the only one she cares about. She only had eyes for you. I was so mad, so upset, that of all people, she was with King Steve, ‘The Hair’ Harrington. I didn’t think she deserved you.”

“Robin, let’s talk about this when you’re sober...” He tried to stop her, to keep her from spilling her guts or saying something she might regret. But the girl just kept on, not even slowing down to listen to him speak. So instead, he listened to her drunken ramblings, morbidly curious. His curiosity would kill him one day, he was sure.

“I was mad because I wanted her to look at me like that. Iike I was the only person she wanted, or would ever want. I wanted her to hold my hand between classes, sneaking kisses in the stairwell before school started.”

“And I just didn’t understand why... Why she loved you like that, why she looked at you like that. All the heart eyes and rosy cheeks when you talked to her. And I really just didn’t get it. You were so messy, you always asked dumb questions and passed notes around in class. You partied hard on the weekends and did stupid stuff. But she stayed home, cleaning up your messes every single time you got into something you shouldn't have. I just didn’t understand why she stuck with you through all that, and then I realized...

“Steve, she does all of that because she loves you. She loves you so much that she was willing to put up with all of your shit just to be with you.”

“I know.” His head dropped, not able to look her in the eye, knowing she was right. He should probably be mad, frustrated, upset that she just confessed her crush for his girlfriend. But he felt everything but those emotions. Steve knew Robin was right. He didn’t deserve her then, not in the slightest. And hell, he wasn’t sure if he deserved Y/N now. She was the best goddamn thing that had ever happened to him. He loved her more than anything or anyone else in the entire world. But he always had that hanging paranoia of whether or not he was good for her, that loud cloud of thunder that rained over him, making him so anxious and drowning in the overthinking it caused, making him wonder if he truly did deserve her.

“If really shocked me, shocked me to my core, Steve. but I like you, I really like you. You’re a good guy now. But I also just really really like Y/N, and every time I look at you, all I can see is her. The memory of her looking at you like that and remembering how much I craved for her to look at me like that.”

Steve found himself stunned. Speechless. Shocked. Surprised. Whatever word you want to use. He was just at a complete loss for words as she spoke, not bothering to look up at the drunk girl. And so he just opened his mouth, letting whatever came out come out. He didn’t care. It’s not like she would remember much of this in the morning anyway, given how much she had drank. How many shots she’d downed, how many cups and bottles. Nights are made for saying things that you can’t say in the day, right? Fuck it.

“King Steve, high school Steve. He didn’t deserve Y/N, not in the slightest, not even a little. I didn’t realize that then. I didn’t realize how serious it was until school ended, the popularity began to fade And King Steve died and she was still by my side. She loves me for me. And a whole year of our lives, our relationship, I treated her like shit, pretty much.”

“Yeah.” Robin agreed. It was blunt, but quite frankly, she didn’t have much of a social filter at the moment. Couldn't bring herself to have one.

“I’m a bad boyfriend. Even when I was with Nancy Wheeler, I was a bad boyfriend. And you know what? I’m glad she broke up with me. Byers is better for her, and I know that, I do... And now, I try to be good to Y/N, learn from the mistakes, but fuck... I just don’t know how. I always manage to fuck it up. Always. It’s a talent, really. But she doesn’t care, she never has. She’s so good to me, Robin. She’s the best girl I’ve ever met. She shows me so much love and cares for me so much, and what do I do for her in return? Nothing, it feels like.”

“You’re a bad boyfriend, yeah. King Steve-era-you didn’t deserve her at all. I think it’s a miracle that she stayed with you through all that. But now? Harrington, you’ve changed. I don’t know what happened from Point A to Point A, but you’re a different person now. I mean, for God’s sake, I’d call you a friend now. You could’ve offered me a hundred dollars back then and I never would’ve called you that, I would’ve laughed.”

The two of them fell silent after that, simply letting the silence overcome them. Robin’s eyes grew heavy, slowly closing on her as she began to doze off. Meanwhile, Steve was invested in his thoughts. His mind raced as he fidgeted with his hands, anxious. Filled with questions from his conversation with the girl opposite him. Did he even really deserve you? Or was Robin right, that he’d changed into a completely different person than he'd been this time last year?

A few moments later, he finally spoke up again. 

“I wonder what Y/N would say if she was listening to this right now.” He laughed lightly “She’d giggle all sweet, she’d pull me close. Probably laugh and joke with you and point out all her flaws to make us feel better.”

She shrugged, coming to. “Maybe.”

“I’m really sorry that I ignored you in Click’s class. And I’m sorry that I was messy and passed notes around and that I made out in the stairwell when we thought no one was looking.”

“It’s okay, Steve. I promise. It’s not like we could’ve been friends anyway. Band geek and the King? Unlikely.”

After a moment, he noticed the girl’s drooping eyelids, her shallow breaths.

“C’mon, you look tired. Had a long night.” He stood from his spot on the floor, holding out his hand to the smaller girl beneath him. She took it and stood with him, following him as he led her to the living room. Steve gestured to the couch, and she laid down on her side, letting her eyes wander over the room. He gave her a blanket, spreading it over her body. She’d be knocked out soon, he was sure.

“If you need anything, I’m upstairs and right down the hall. Second door to the left, alright? Bathroom is just down the hall there.” 

She nodded, pulling the cozy blanket further up her chest, letting her eyes begin to flutter closed. But as he began to walk away, she couldn’t help but call his name. 

“Steve?” She asked. He turned back towards her. “Thank you, for this. You didn’t have to rescue me.”

“That’s what friends do, isn’t it?” He teased, switching the light off, leaving the dim glow of the table lamp. “Goodnight, Robin.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

It wasn’t long before he found himself in bed too, silent in the pitch black darkness. But he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Something was eating at him. He grew restless as his thoughts grew louder and louder until finally, he turned the lamp beside his bed on, grabbing the phone. The brunette boy quickly dialed your number, not expecting you to pick up. It was late, after all. Just past midnight, last time he looked at the clock. It was certainly well past one in the morning by now.

“Hello?” Your sleepy voice said. He smiled upon hearing you speak. 

“Hey, baby. It’s me.” He said lightly. 

“Steve?” You were happy to hear his voice. He sounded tired, stressed. But that melted away with every second he was on the phone with you, relief washing over him. “Is something wrong? It’s late, you should be asleep.” 

“No, no... I just needed to hear your voice. I was gonna go crazy, I think.” 

“What’s up?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. You’d fallen asleep on the couch a few hours ago while watching some old rerun on TV and when the phone rang, it woke you, and in your hazy state, you answered. And God, you were glad you did. “Talk to me, baby. I’m here.” 

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just... I don’t know.” He lied. Wasn’t a very good cover, and he was sure you knew it was a lie. You could nearly always tell when he lied. His voice would get shaky and soft and he would play with his hands more than usual. “I’ve been thinking. And I just wanted to tell you how much I love you, Y/N.”

You smiled. “I love you too.” 

“I love you so much, and I know I’m not really a good boyfriend sometimes. And I’m going to work on that. I promise.” The boy said lightly, leaning back against his headboard. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know. But I don’t know why you keep me around anymore.”

His last sentence was punctuated with a soft chuckle, making you blush. His laugh always made you blush, causing you to laugh as well. “Well, it’s been almost a year, right? Little late to toss you out now. Guess I’m stuck with you.”

“No refunds, baby.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t want a refund then, huh?”

[canonicallyanxious]

we’re dancing in this world alone

Druck | Matteo/David | 1.2k words

Or: Matteo and David on a rainy day.

So here we are, guys! The last installment of my post-canon Lorde-inspired david/matteo series, based on “A World Alone”!!! God I almost can’t even believe it? I’ll probably end up cross-posting the whole thing onto AO3 at some point after I do some editing and add stuff to some of the earlier fics of the series so keep an eye out for that if that’s something you’d be into but for now, there is this. Hope you guys enjoy!!

-

It was the sound of the rain that woke Matteo up this morning, a gentle and forgiving rhythm against the roof, and it’s the sound of the rain he listens to now, lying back on the floor with his head turned toward the grey light that’s filtering in through the window. His legs are in David’s lap and David is sitting against the wall, headphones in as he flips lazily through his notes for class. It’s a couple of hours past noon and the rain has come and gone throughout the day. Truth be told, though, he’d been waiting for it to come back. It’s one of his favorite songs.

He nudges David’s elbow with his toe. “Hey.”

“Get your gross feet off me.” But David tugs an earbud out of his ear and he cups Matteo’s ankle with his palm, thumb skimming over the top of his feet, so Matteo decides not to listen to him and kicks him lightly in the forearm instead.

“Aren’t you tired of studying yet?” he says, lifting a leg slightly into the air so that it jostles at the notebook David’s rested against his shins.

David pinches Matteo’s big toe between his fingers. “No, never.”

“Nerd. Also that’s a fucking lie.” Matteo swings his legs off David’s lap and heaves himself upright with a loud groan. He crams his body against David’s, pressing in as close as he can. David’s hip is warm against his. “Come on. Study break.”

David tilts his head so that their temples knock together. “What would we do, anyway?”

Matteo reaches an arm around David’s shoulder and squeezes him closer; always closer. “We could go for a walk,” he says. “You love those, don’t you?”

David stares at him. “It’s raining.”

“So?”

“So that’s gross,” David says, as if stating the blatantly obvious.

Matteo is offended.

“What did rain ever do to you?” he sniffs. “It’s just water.”

“Water can drown you, you know,” David says. His tone is so annoyingly matter of fact Matteo can’t resist leaning forward to blow a raspberry in his face.

“Water can drown you, you know,” he repeats, grinning.

David shoves his hand into Matteo’s face, and Matteo makes a grab for his wrist. They struggle like that for a bit, pushing turning into full on wrestling, and it doesn’t take long for them to devolve into helpless laughter. Eventually David pulls the ultimate trump card, wrapping his arms around Matteo’s waist and burying his face in his chest, and Matteo stops trying to headlock him immediately; he has to. His arms settle across David’s shoulders easily, as if moved by muscle memory.

David turns his face so that his ear is pressed to Matteo’s sternum. Matteo wonders if he can hear the song his heart beats for him. He hopes he can feel it as Matteo does, thrumming through his veins and settling somewhere inside his bones.

“I don’t know,” David says. “I guess it just makes me kind of sad.”

“Really?” It hadn’t occurred to him, somehow. And yet it makes sense. David is a boy who belongs to the sun; he has known that about him since the day they met.

David’s fingers skim across Matteo’s waist, where his shirt has ridden up a little. “I bet you love the rain.”

Matteo closes his eyes. He imagines, for a moment, that David’s touch might leave behind a permanent imprint, something he could carry with him wherever he goes. A streak of brilliant color across his skin. It’s a nice thought.

“I do,” he confesses.

He can feel the motion of David’s nod against his body. “Don’t you find it kind of depressing, though?”

Matteo doesn’t answer, for a bit. Instead he listens to the rain. Really listens. It’s so soft against the rooftop. He could float inside the sound of it. He wants to let it surround him, wants to wrap himself up in it like a cocoon.

He used to run to the window during a thunderstorm, when he was a child, hands clutching at the windowsill as he watched fire streak through the sky. The thunder never scared him. It made him feel like heaven was paying attention to the earth, for once, and even after he stopped really believing in heaven he’s never quite been able to shake off how seen the rain makes him feel. How safe.

David belongs to the sun, but the first time Matteo saw him, he almost could have sworn he tasted rain on his lips.

“No,” Matteo says. “I actually...  I find it peaceful.”

“Oh,” David says on an exhale.

It’s a beautiful sound. Matteo imagines cupping it in his bare palm.

“Oh?” he echoes.

“That sounds nice.” David’s voice has a tinge of wistfulness to it, now, and frankly that’s just wrong. He should never sound wistful. He should never sound like anything remotely close to sad.

Matteo opens his eyes and pushes at David until he straightens. He stands up, and David stands too, looking at him with a question in his eyes.

Matteo’s answer is to tangle their fingers together and pull him toward the window. With his free hand he unlocks the latch.

“What are you doing?” David asks. His eyes haven’t left his face yet.

Matteo lets the window swing open. “Just - here.” He pulls until their joined hands are sticking out the window. The rain is soft, and slow. It’s impossibly gentle against the back of his hand. He releases his grip on David and turns his outstretched hand to the sky, counting the drops that mark his skin. His fingertips tingle. He turns to look at David, sees the look of awe in David’s eyes; feels warm all the way to the core of him.

He watches as David turns his hand, too.

And now they’re both catching raindrops in their palms.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Matteo says, nudging the side of his hand against David’s.

David’s eyes flicker up to meet his gaze.

“Yeah,” he says.

They pull their arms back inside and David pushes the window shut. He brings his rain-soaked hand to Matteo’s jaw. The awe in his eyes hasn’t yet disappeared. It glows bright as he leans in, cold fingertips brushing against the shell of Matteo’s ear, and kisses him.

The breath seeps out of Matteo’s lungs, pours through his lips into David’s mouth. He takes it, and he takes. And Matteo gives it all to him.

With his eyes closed and the sound of the rain all around him, it’s almost easy to believe that in this moment - just for a moment - the world is completely and utterly still.

David’s hand slides down his face and his neck to rest on his shoulder, and they break apart slowly, like the parting of tides. They lean their foreheads close, and their breaths mingle together. Matteo can only smile, at the feeling of it.

“I get it,” David whispers, lips so close to Matteo’s he can almost taste the words.

Matteo closes his eyes. It’s a nice feeling, to know that today he doesn’t have to wait for the thunder to feel calm inside of himself. To know that this, all of this is enough - more than enough.

Because David is not a storm, and he is not a heaven on earth. He is a boy; his boy. And that’s the most beautiful thing Matteo can fathom.

[ilovemygaydad]

Friends in Dark Places [ch 14]

pairing: moxiety, eventual logince, background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit

WARNINGS: kissing, implied making out, non-consentual touching and kissing, abusive ex, toxic relationship, self hate, sex mentions, mentioned threesome, rumors, depression, anxiety, depressive episodes, food mentions, unhealthy coping mechanisms, not eating, isolation, worrying, swearing, anger, yelling, swearing, homophobia, homophobic slurs, possibly something else

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: jsyk, it’s totally okay to ask for a modified chapter if you need it or if i need to add tags! i get it, and it’s no problem for me to quick edit a chapter or whatever :) also, feel free to send requests or questions that you have!

first - previous - next - companions

consider buying me a coffee (please)

-

February 18, 2016

Patton stepped over the threshold into Jay’s house. He’d spent a lot of time there, so it wasn’t being in his boyfriend’s house that was making him anxious; it was the fact that it was the first time they would be alone. Jay had begged him to come, so he’d obliged.

He shook the snow off of his coat and dumped it on the floor next to his boots. “Babe, I’m here!” Pat’s voice echoed lightly in the plastered halls. He heard shuffling a few rooms over and made his way towards the sound. The door swung open, and a half-dressed Jason stood in the doorway. He subconsciously noted the girl sitting on the couch, equally undressed and disheveled.

“Patton. Looking gorgeous as ever,” his boyfriend drawled. His lips were swollen and bright pink.

“What the hell is going on, Jason?” Patton’s voice was hard as he gestured to the scene in front of him. The girl inside stood up and walked to the door, wrapping her slender arms around Jason’s waist.

“He really is as beautiful as you’ve said, Jay. Those eyes truly are stunning. And you know how hot I think freckles are. I would have been a fool to refuse your offer.” Her words dripped like honey--uncomfortably slow and thick. Her hand reached out to cup Pat’s cold-tinged cheek, and he flinched back from her touch, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“What offer, sweetheart?” The anger was gone, replaced with a sugary sweet that held no warmth.

Jason gave his signature dashing smile. “I was thinking, right? You’re bisexual; I’m bisexual. And Lauren here has just been dying to try a threesome. It’ll be fun!”

“What?” That was ridiculous! What kind of thought process was that?

“C’mon, babe. I’ve seen your potential; you’d be an amazing partner in bed!” Jay quirked his eyebrow and pulled Patton closer.

“First of all,” Pat stated as he took a step backward. “You know my feelings on this matter. Second, no! I’m not doing that! We’re fifteen, Jason. Not to mention that you set this all up without even consulting me.”

“And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just loosen up a bit and let me show you something actually pleasurable!” 

Patton was about to protest once more when Jason roughly kissed him; his hands fumbled with his belt buckle. On impulse, Pat pushed him back, knocking both Jay and Lauren to the ground in a heap.

“What the hell, Jay?! I said no! What the fuck do you think that means?” The anger was back and more fiery than ever. He was pissed––no, he was furious.

“You fucking moralist! You ruin everything! I went as far as to make this perfect for you, Patton. You’ve done nothing for me, but I’ve done everything for you.” Jason slowly rose from the floor, redness rising in his face.

“I told you exactly what I was comfortable with from the moment you asked me out! I should have listened to Roman and Logan when they said you were nothing but bad news, but I was swept up by your ‘perfection.’” Patton spat back. He’d reached the end of his rope, and he was taking none of it.

“Those two were so much better than you are! At least they were somewhat willing to play to my needs; they were never so self centered as to refuse everything I want. Sure, they didn’t go nearly as far as I’d liked, but they’re better than you. You’re poisonous. You’re a bomb just waiting to go off and ruin all of my hard work! Now, either take your clothes off and join us, or we’re breaking up right here and now.” That stung. And for just a moment, Patton ran over the situation in his head. He was so devastatingly close to caving before he came back to his senses.

“Then I guess we’re done.” Patton swiftly put his shoes back on and wrapped his coat tightly around his body, stepping back out into the cold February air.

---

All discussion ceased as Patton, Logan, and Roman stepped into Westview. Every pair of eyes turned to them. Specifically Patton. A bright blast of chatter erupted once more, and Patton could glean little bits of conversation from them.

“I heard that he slept with three guys this weekend!”

“Yeah? I heard he had a threesome with some chick from South and Jason Keith!”

“Patton Shea is such a slut!”

“Not to mention he’s a fag!”

Patton Shea. Slut. Patton Shea. Whore. Patton Shea. Slept with three guys in one weekend.

Patton spun around and dashed from the school; Logan and Roman followed close behind. He could hear their furious voices behind him as they walked down the sidewalk to the nearest bus stop.

“I’m going to murder Jason! That dick deserves it! How fucking dare he hurt you like that, Patton; especially after what he did on Saturday,” Roman growled.

“For once I agree with your aggressive sentiments. Patton, you are the sweetest person I know. You deserve so much better.” Logan was normally calm—far too calm for most—but this angered him to the core. Pure hatred seeped from his voice.

Patton stopped and spun around. “Do I, though?” The words hung heavily in the air, and Patton’s voice cracked as he said, “Do I?”

“Of course you do,” Logan gently stated. “You are incredibly kind, generous, and genuine. I have never once known you to do something to hurt another person. Jason, on the other hand, is rude, egotistical, incorrigible, and… and… He’s just awful, okay? You deserve the world, and he deserves to rot in the deepest pits of hell.”

You break everything you touch.

“You’re wonderful, Pat.”

Whore!

“We love you.”

Poison!

Patton plastered on a fake smile. “Thanks, guys, really, but you should go to class. I’ll be fine—“

Roman cut him off with one fluid motion. “Yeah, just shut up and let us come with you.”

---

Jason’s words never left Patton, but neither did the rumors. As the months passed, they became less prominent, becoming floating leaves in the back of his memory. It wasn’t until much later that they would rear their head again.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will always hurt me.

---

Present

Virgil paced around his room. He was worried. Patton hadn’t woken up until 11 this morning, which was ages later than he usual. Then, he had refused any visitors to his room, claiming he was doing mass amounts of homework. Virgil brought him some lunch, but he had been instructed to just leave the plate outside the door for him to get in a moment. Patton wouldn’t even let his mother in!

It was, quite frankly, terrifying, and Virgil was glad he’d gotten Logan’s phone number.

Virgil

Read [2:32]

hey lo its virgil

im really worried about pat

he hasn’t come out of his room at all and won’t let any of us come in

Logan

Delivered [2:32]

Ah. It seems he has entered a depressive spiral. As I’m sure you’re familiar with the feelings, I’ll spare you the details. Just know that it is nothing personal.

Excuse me for one moment.

Logan immediately went to his text conversation with Patton and began typing.

Logan

Read [2:34]

Patton. It has come to my concern that Virgil is worried absolutely sick about you. I know that you have been feeling less than subpar today, but I need you to let Virgil in so that you two can work things out. He obviously cares a lot about you, and I know for a fact that you care about him just as much. You are one of my best friends, and it kills me to see you down like this.

As soon as the read symbol popped up, Logan went back to Virgil.

Logan

Delivered [2:34]

Go talk to Patton. If he doesn’t let you in, text me, and I’ll make him.

Virgil let out a light laugh at that. Logan was so caring and willing to help his friends, but he didn’t know how to do it in the most sensitive way. Just seconds later, he stood in front of Patton’s door. He hesitantly reached out and knocked. The door abruptly swung open, and a gloomy Patton motioned him in.

Virgil immediately took a seat on the bed. “I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I didn’t mean to upset you like this; I just… I wasn’t thinking properly. I’ve been really worried about you all day, and like… I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the reason,” Patton mumbled, pacing along the blue rug on his floor.

“Then why have you been shutting me out all day?” Virgil’s voice was pained; the sound triggered something inside of Pat.

“Because I was trying to avoid this!” Patton gestured wildly at Virgil’s upset expression. “I didn’t want to hurt you, yet here we are! I’m poisonous, Virge. I do nothing but hurt people. I’m the apple from Snow White--sweet and nice at first, but I’ll end up killing you. You deserve so much better than me! You should have picked Roman or Logan; they’re smarter, nicer, more talented, and so much more. But no! You picked me of all people. I’m clumsy, stupid, reckless, emotional, and just plain pathetic. I have nothing to offer.” He sat down exhaustedly on the bed, flopping back onto the plush comforter.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding, right? Patton, you’re amazing. You talked a stranger that you had never met before out of suicide just because you wanted to. You let that same stranger into your home and then ended up allowing them to live with you. You are so much more than nothing. If anything, I don’t deserve you. Roman and Logan are both wonderful, but you have something special inside of you.” Virgil fell back, too. There were a few beats of silence before Patton spoke again.

“If you keep talking bad about yourself, I’m going to physically fight you...” Virgil could hear the smile in his voice. He was so glad. He couldn’t bear to live another minute without Patton happy.

“Come at me, bro.”

Virgil felt weight leaving the bed, but he’d only registered it a moment before he was hauled up by the wrists and propelled into a sweet kiss by Patton. He lightly smiled. God, it was good to have someone again. It was even better that said someone wasn’t an asshole.

“So, what are we?” Virgil asked a few moments later, when they had ended their kiss.

“I think the proper term is ‘boyfriends,’” Patton smiled.

“You sound just like Logan.”

“Satisfactory.” Patton let out a small laugh at Virgil’s irritated groan.

“Shut up and kiss me, nerd.”

next

[morethanonepage]

Aw thank you! From the scenario meme, under a cut because a) nsfw discussion and b) it’s a bit long:

Ok so no-so-secret kinks first:

Chas is personally bad at at dirty talk but he loves hearing John do it, at least partly due to the accent, which he otherwise doesn't really have strong feelings about 

I've mentioned it before John just cannot get enough of Chas's big, talented hands (like guys he cooks AND tinkers with like car stuff so yknow) so his like ultimate(tm) fantasy is just Chas holding his wrists down or wrapping his fingers around John's neck or leaving fingerprint bruises on his hips. Just dies about being manhandled WHAT else can I say.

(also like canonically it really does seem like John prefers people with dark hair for like -- full scale romantic relationships? idk why that is but it is genuinely pretty consistent for him. brunet(tes) with more heart than sense frankly and/or lots of morosexuals/)

Chas is a very giving partner if u kno what i mean. Oral. I mean oral. He loves getting his partners off first & he's not as experienced with blowjobs but by god he's enthusiastic and willing to put in the work.

Chas's BDE was the first basis of attraction for John. Like now it's 'you’re my oldest friend & you know me better than anyone & i trust you despite me basically trusting no one else & you know me better than almost anyone else who’s still alive plus you’re on my very short list of people i would die for ' but when John was a dumb punk twink just introduced to this shy grunge bear of a man in The Good Old Days, it was 'oh that bloke's hung like a horse imma get on that'. A tale as old as time frankly, it was very romantic.

Actually Secret Kinks (or at least kinks they don't talk about or acknowledge):

Chas's favorite position -- with anyone but maybe especially with John -- is being ridden BUT he always feels vaguely guilty about it bc he feels like it makes his partner do all the work. So he never asks for it & is like, genuinely thrilled to realize John likes it that way too (for John it's bc he's more in control of the situation -- pace etc -- and doesn't have to make eye contact BUT is not as vulnerable as doggy style).

John's actual favorite position is missionary tho. Which is nothing to be ashamed of obvs but he's maybe a little embarrassed about being so prosaic. W/e John being able to engage in sloppy desperate kisses while you fuck/get fucked is totally punk rock.

John has a complicated relationship with bondage bc on the one hand he's into it but on the other recent life experiences (Ravenscar; Papa Midnite; exorcism) have kind of made having his wrists/ankles restrained a triggering minefield (if I were better at writing kink I would do something where John does get triggered by it and safewords and it’s awks but ultimately a positive experience bc it means something that John was comfortable enough in that situation to be honest. But i’m always kind of squeamish about really kinky things because idk I’m a prude). So he and Chas kind of work their way up from Chas pinning him down to more creative methods (i know John's ties are a bad idea but John’s baseline is doing dumb shit that can get him hurt and I genuinely assume that's what they end up going with, or the belt of John's coat lol. The thing being they’re not designed as restraints but that's the point -- they don't have the same association of shackles or handcuffs would).

Chas is really into marking John -- both in the sense of love bites and finger shaped bruises on John's body, but also in the sense of pulling out early and coming on John's chest or back or face. He's vaguely embarrassed about it -- he doesn't feel like he has grounds to be possessive, given he's never quite sure where he and John in re: the what are we conversation they will 100% never have, but it is what it is & John's never complained about it. (Bc John loves it, obviously).

John thinks he's all hard core and into rough sex & impact play etc but once it's Chas being all sweet and tender and careful with him -- even when he's annoyed at John, which is often -- John is kind of weirded out by the fact that he's....kind of into that too. JUST bc it's Chas maybe, like John still likes kinky shit & isn't ashamed of it, and Chas isn’t ENTIRELY opposed, but he's almost entirely incapable of hurting John now that they're in a relationship, so when Chas has got him tied up or is manhandling him around or things are getting a little more intense, Chas tends to still be careful and doing a lot of kissing and reassuring and praising. And frankly if it were anyone other than Chas John would roll his eyes and be suspicious -- he's more used to (and enjoys) the oooh you're such a naughty little slut side of things. But Chas cooing at him for being a good boy and doing so well is at the very least a new enough experience to keep it interesting for John, who's still regularly surprised at how much it works on him

Chas so viscerally associates the smell of cigarettes with being close to John -- the stronger the scent, the closer he was to John obviously -- that he kind of hates it, esp per my conception of things where they used to mess around when they were younger and it’s a really weird specific turn-on that Chas can’t quite get rid of bc it was so formative. Like he's glad no one (but John if he can get away with it) smokes in bars/cabs/everywhere anymore bc it was always a really distracting trip down memory lane when he was hit by like, a cloud of it. JOHN CAN NEVER KNOW bc Chas would lose ANY power in convincing him to stop smoking, which he does occasionally still try to do even though he knows it won’t work.

[jaibhagwan]

Faded Fantasy

There was something off about the night,

but Daryl couldn’t tell what it was. He had money in his pocket. It had been an alright day at work, and Merle was off on a date with one of his skanks, leaving Daryl to enjoy his time alone. He should have been content.

It wasn’t too crowded at the bar for a Friday night. The band hadn’t set up yet, but the jukebox was playing some of that honky tonk tripe Daryl couldn’t stand. It reminded him of the racket his daddy used to listen to. That ol’ my-wife-left-me-and-my-dog-too-and-now-all-I-can-do-is-howl-and-bitch-about-it crap. Daryl had plenty enough of that in his life, he didn’t need any songs to remember how miserable life was. Guy’s probably better off anyhow. He just ain’t got no lick of sense left in him from all that caterwaulin’. Shit.

Daryl quickly ordered his burger and beer at the bar and then wandered over to the jukebox to see if he could rescue the night with something else. There were a couple of drunks clinging to each other in the middle of the floor, swaying and teetering. It looked as far from dancing as Daryl could imagine. By the time he got to the jukebox, the song had ended and another one began. It had a slow drum beat, and then the guitar came plucking along in its sad, ballad way.

“Ooh, I like this one,” a familiar voice cooed beside him.

Turning, he stumbled upon her cheerful blue eyes, which took him by surprise. His chest seized in the way she always left him breathless. Recovering, he sucked in air as his heart raced. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find Carol here. The dissonance was palpable. She looked as strangely out of place as he felt. She was way too shiny for this dingy hole in the ground. In fact, she brightened the entire room.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, a pleasant smile hinting at his lips.

“I’m trying to get someone to dance with me. But as usual, that someone is clueless.”

Daryl glanced around the bar. Whoever it was that Carol had her eye on was a dumb son of a bitch.

“Well, maybe it’s your choice in music. It’s too sad. And sappy.”

“It’s romantic!”

He shrugged.

“What would you suggest then?” She stepped closer and turned towards the jukebox to eye the selection.

“I dunno,” he replied, skimming through the song list. When he found one he liked, he stopped and pointed at the display. “How about this one?”

The smile fell from her face. “You can dance to it alright, but it’s hardly romantic. Something slower, perhaps?”

“Slower?”

“Yeah.” She leaned into him as she gently swayed to the music. “Like that one.” She pointed to a song he hadn’t heard since his mother was alive. “It’s not sad or sappy. Promise.”

“That’s the one, huh?”

Carol nodded and gave him an irresistible smile.

“Alright,” Daryl conceded with a sigh, putting a dollar in the machine and selecting the song to play. “I trust you.”

Across the room, the waitress called out. “Burger and beer up.”

“That’s me,” he said, not wanting their conversation to end. There was an awkward silence. “Maybe this will be the lucky song.”

“Maybe,” she said with a sad shrug as she watched him walk away.

Daryl picked up his dinner and sat at the bar. From his seat, he could see the entire room as he ate. It was starting to get a little more crowded. Naturally, his gaze returned to Carol who was talking to some blonde guy who approached her. He wondered if that was the guy she was interested in, but the way she was standing with her arms crossed in front of her, she didn’t seem happy. She looked bored.

A new song came on, it wasn’t the one Carol had chosen. And he found himself feeling grateful, he didn't really want to stick around to hear it; he knew that song would bring back memories of his mama. Carol didn’t know that of course; he couldn't blame her. And quite frankly, he also really didn’t want to stick around and watch her in some other guy’s arms. But still, it was Carol. He liked being around her. Daryl just wanted her to be happy.

He was hungry though, so he finished his burger in a few bites, and washed it down with the beer, debating on whether he should order another one or just leave before the place got too packed. Daryl was already getting elbowed by the sudden traffic at the bar.

Fuck this, he thought, and pulled out his wallet, throwing the cash down to pay his bill. As much as he was intrigued by Carol, he couldn’t stand to be in the bar when it got crowded. Just as he spun around in his seat, the sound of a slow guitar strumming played over the speakers. He paused as the bass came in with its familiar rhythm, and the singer began to croon.

We were born before the wind

In a flash, Daryl saw his mama in the kitchen, twirling in that faded blue and yellow apron as sunlight streamed in through the window, making her glow like a star. And then she was gone.

Turning around, he searched for Carol, but she wasn’t standing where she had been. She wasn’t on the dance floor either. He felt panic rising in his chest; he was desperate to see her again. Before she became just another ghost, like his mother.

“You’re leaving?” There was hurt in her voice. Maybe it wasn’t such a lucky song after all.

Swallowing his fear, Daryl turned to see Carol at his side, her brow furrowed in disappointment. She was beautiful even with that deep crease in her forehead. Her pain was his own; he felt sad for her. And then angry. This guy obviously didn’t know how great Carol was.

“Sorry, it didn’t work out,” he told her, wishing he could take the sadness out of her eyes.

“The song’s not over yet. C’mon,” she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

Let your soul and spirit fly

Into the mystic

He felt sorry that the guy Carol wanted to dance with hadn’t showed up. But he didn’t want Carol to feel more rejected. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, blushing.

“Just hold me and follow along.” She put his hands on her waist and then wrapped her arms around his neck.

His stomach fluttered as he looked into her expectant eyes. Carol began to rock from side to side, so he mimicked her movements, stiffly.

“Relax,” she said with a smile that made him do just that.

I don’t have to fear it

Daryl sighed. “I ain’t never danced with anyone before,” he confessed. Well, not since he was a scrawny little kid, in that kitchen, with his mother twirling him around. Not like this. Dancing with Carol was different. He felt something urgent stirring in his core.

I wanna rock your gypsy soul

“Really?” She grinned. “You’re a natural. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

He shrugged, growing uncomfortably warm as her hips moved closer to his. An electric current was buzzing through his body.

“You don’t like it?” The smile fell from her face, and she stopped moving.

“Nah, ain’t that…” He shook his head, trying to find the words to explain, but floundered instead, breaking into a sweat.

Unfazed, Carol started swaying again and pressed herself closer as the music went on. Carol smelled nice, sweet like a flower. Daryl found himself leaning in closer to breathe her in.

You know I will be coming home

Carol put her head on his shoulder. “This is nice.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his heart soaring. All Daryl could think about was that he was holding Carol in his arms. It was the best day of his life.

“Then why wouldn’t you let me get this close to you?” she whispered in his ear.

And then he woke up.

Daryl’s heart was racing; he was gasping for breath. His sheets were soaked.

Of all the dreams he had, the ones with Carol were the ones he relished. Even the nightmares were worth being able to look into her eyes once again. As much as he’d tried, he could never forget her. She was permanently imprinted into his memory. His heart, if he could be completely honest with himself. But he had let her go a long time ago, and now she was just some faded fantasy.

[madiletio]

Little Wonders | Ch.3: “Left in the dark”

Summary: Broken and bruised, everything was unraveling right in front them. And all they could do is watch in horror.

AKA the angsty kidfic no one asked for.

 This couldn't be happening.

 Pidge could feel her chest tighten as the realization started to settle in. The team had no way of reaching Lance and for all they knew, everything was still going according to plan.

 Putting her emotions on the backburner, Pidge ran out to Green's personal hangar. There was no time to panic and she knew that. She also knew that she was throwing every rule that was set in place by the Garrison out the window, and at that moment? It was a risk she was willing to take.

 Everything went by in a haze as she threw on her paladin armor and ran into her lion’s waiting mouth.

 "We gotta go girl." she muttered as she settled into her seat and started up Green's engine.

 With a few button presses, Pidge enabled Green’s cloaking mechanism and launched the lion into the earth’s outer atmosphere.

 She needed to reach the others immediately.

 *

 The castle was dark.

 Hunk typed away at the castle engine’s command panel, and became more frustrated with every error message that appeared on the screen.

 Truth be told, he wasn’t as experienced as Pidge was with this sort of thing, but she wasn’t there and he was the team’s next best option.

 Everyone was trying to figure out what exactly had happened. Everything seemed to change within a second. One minute they were on the observation deck, going over data as per usual and then the next thing they knew, they were floating in zero G.

 The power had been cut short and there was no way of contacting anyone. To make the situation even more shit, the lions were now locked within their hangars.

 So there was no getting out. They were stranded.

 And the worst part? They couldn't waste the emergency power supply for unnecessary things like lights in the whole ship. So they were stranded in space, with no communication, and left in the dark.

 Everything was just going peachy.

 Hunk slammed his fists down on the keyboard, frustrated as a familiar ‘Unknown Error’ dialog popped onto the screen.

 “You piece of shit!” Hunk cussed and stepped away from the console.

 “Everything okay in here?”

 Coran gave him a sympathetic smile as he handed him a drink.

 Hunk took it with a sigh “I’m just getting frustrated. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but nothing is working.”

 Coran nodded, giving him a sympathetic look before gesturing for Hunk to follow him.

 The pair made their way back onto the observation deck, where everyone else was located and worked to the point of near exhaustion.

 “Hunk! Were you able to make any progress?” Allura asked as soon as she noticed Hunk walk in.

 He shook his head “Not even a bit. Whatever hit us...hit us hard.”

 Allura’s expression visibly dropped.

 “Why can’t we just turn on the emergency power supply already?” Keith questioned as the Altean approached him.

 “Because we need to save as much power as we can. We barely have enough to keep the oxygen stabilizers going.”

 “Why not turn it on so we can have access to our lions and get help?”

 Allura ran a hand through her hair, visibly annoyed. “Because Keith, we can’t just up and abandon the castle. Especially when we don’t even know what started this whole mess in the first place.”

 “But-”

 Golden light filled the observation deck within seconds, making everyone inside shield their eyes at the sudden brightness.

 It took them a couple seconds, but once everyone’s eyes had adjusted to the brightness, they were looking up at Green’s face.

 “Pidge.”

 *

 Everything was floating, drifting, out of reach.

 Lance groaned as he started to feel the pain that was pounding in the back of his head.

 Pain was everywhere in his body, and yet all he wondered was:

     “How long had I been out for?”  

 Red's warning alarms blared loudly, making it near impossible for Lance to fall back into a pain-induced sleep.

 "Argh..."

 He scrunched his nose up at the pain, before slowly opening his eyes to see what the damage was exactly.

 He immediately wished he hadn't.

 Metal was cast about in the cockpit with various pieces of broken glass and wires to accompany them.

 Red had taken a serious beating. That much was obvious.

 He tried to stand up, but a searing pain shot through his leg, making him cry out at the pain.

 Looking down at his legs, he immediately saw the damage.

 A giant piece of metal had pierced through the paladin armor and into his thigh, keeping him pinned down in the seat.

 "Oh.”

 Red purred sympathyitly in the back of his mind.

 "Red… help me..Please.” he bit back a sob, collapsing into his seat in exhaustion from the pain.

     "It's going to be alright,"     Red told him soothingly. Like a mother comforting her distressed child, in a weird sort of way. If it weren’t for the fact he was in so much pain, he would have been insulted at the gesture.

 "What happened girl?" he coughed.

 Red became hesitant to answer him, and quite frankly, he wasn't looking forward to finding out the answer

     "You discovered one of Lotor's main work bases.You tried to reach the others but communications were cut."  

 He nodded.

 "Right...why do I think you're holding back something from me Red?" He looked up at the room of the cockpit, smirking half heartedly.

 Red didn't answer him for a good solid ten minutes before finally entering back into his consciousness.

 "Hello again Red."

     "Once you realized you couldn't get through to the others you contacted Katie. "  

 Lance felt his heart go into his throat.

     “Don't worry though, she's with the others now. They're both safe."  

 The last bit caught his attention. "What do you mean      they’re      Red?"

 Red walked away from his consciousness, telling him the conversation was well and truly over.

 *

 The moment Pidge had landed Green in her hangar, everyone felt a weight lift off from their shoulders. Because if anyone could figure out what the ever loving fuck was going on, it would be her.

 Yet, when she came barreling into the room, they could immediately tell something a lot more worse had happened than a simple power outage just from the look of anxiety on Pidge’s features.

 “Pidge-” Keith breathed, brows furrowing in concern.

 She interrupted,“When was the last time you guys had power?”

 “I don’t know? Maybe forty-eight hours?” Hunk replied with a cringe.

 Pidge cussed under her breath. She turned around and headed in the direction towards the castle’s engine core.

 Everyone followed after her, making sure to keep up with the small paladin.

 “How did you know to come here anyway? Did Lance contact you or something?” Hunk asked as he walked next to her.

 She stopped in her footsteps, biting back a sob that threatened to escape the back of her throat.

 There wasn’t time to panic. She couldn’t.

 Allura placed her hand cautiously on her shoulder.

 “Pidge?” her tone was gentle.

 Pidge shook her head, before she continued her way down the dark hallway.

 “Yeah...he did.” was all she managed to say before they had reached the engines room.

 Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief, completely oblivious to what had happened barely hours ago.

 She began typing away at the console, entering in the startup codes effortlessly.

 “Lance got hit.” She whispered.

 The room felt colder.

 “Hit how exactly?” Keith questioned.

 She didn't stop typing. “He contacted me after he couldn't get ahold of the castle. He wanted me to deliver a message to everyone.”

 Everyone was listening intently.

 "And? What is the message?" Keith prodded.

 She sighed. "I don't know. Like I said, it all happened so fast. One minute he was on my screen and then.."

 She squeezed her eyes shut, cringing at the memory of Lance's pained screams.

 "And then...?" It was Allura's turn to prod her for the info.

 "And then he was gone."

 The room felt ten times colder than when they had first entered it. The weight of Pidge's words hit them hard.

 For a couple of minutes, no one said anything. They couldn't. So instead, they just listened to Pidge type away at the console and let their own thoughts consume them.

 It wasn't until a loud ding sounded in the room and brought everyone's attention back from their thoughts.

 Pidge sighed. "Got it."

 Moments later the lights in the castle started up again and the ship hummed back to life.

 "Did you find out what it was?" Hunk asked

 "Yeah. But It doesn't make any sense."

 "What do you mean?"

 Pidge furrowed her brows in concentration as she looked at the data.

 "It's pure quintessence."