#trying to figure out if its worth exploring

[bonefall]

wait, why can’t a decent amount of the members in proto-thunderclan not hunt?

A lot of them have serious physical disabilities! It's enough that it poses a logistical problem, which they are committed to overcoming together.

Thunder Storm's three legs makes him slower than his companions. He's ferociously powerful, but like a male lion, he has to rely on his "lionesses" to slow a large animal.

Bright Storm has asthma from her heroics trying to save SkyClan cats from a fire. She's taking that from Gray Wing, who is famously the first major death now. Like her son, she has a difficult time with chasing prey.

Bumble is dyspraxic. She's a terrible hunter and fighter and struggles with self-worth because OTHERS used it to dehumanize her, and continues to, even after an entire society forms out of love of her.

Sunlit Frost has permanent nerve damage in his arm from the fire, and ends up working so hard that it makes his disability worse. A bite on the good paw from Snake becomes infected after he refuses to sit out from digging graves after the First Battle; I am planning a chunky B-plot about Sunlit coming to terms with the fact he has to retire early.

That's FOUR major members of a small group with physical disabilities that make hunting hard or impossible. They have a lot of logistical problems that I will actually be exploring solutions to.

[jennaflare]

So Disco Elysium is the only game you've ever really liked

I get it! It's a phenomenal game with superb art and writing, and its themes are consistent and deeply explored. It sets a high bar for video games. But there are other really, really fantastic games out there. This is a list that is 100% my own taste of things that aren't necessarily similar, other than the fact that they're really fucking good. (A lot of these are on sale for the Steam Summer Sale until July 11 2024!)

In Stars and Time

In Stars and Time is a time loop game where you play as Siffrin, the rogue of a party at the end of their quest to save the day by defeating the King, who is freezing everybody in time! But something is wrong: every time you die, you loop back to the day before you fight the King. You're the only one who remembers the loops, so it's up to you to figure out why it's happening, and how to break out.

In Stars and Time is a heart-wrenching dive into mental health, friendship, and love. It's about feeling alone, and how awful it is when the people who love you don't notice (and how awful it is when they do). It's about falling deeper and deeper into your worst self and your worst tendencies, and how to come back from it.

The creator also did one of my favorite Disco Elysium comics ever, which is only tangentially relevant but worth mentioning.

Roadwarden

In Roadwarden, you play as the titular Roadwarden for an undeveloped and "wild" part of the kingdom. Monsters roam the forests and roads, and it's your job to keep people safe. On paper, anyway. Your real mission is to find out what is of value in the area, and how to take it from its people. How well you perform this task is up to you. It's an oldschool text-based RPG, and I take a lot of notes by hand when I play.

Roadwarden explores exploitation and industrialization by making you look in the face of your potential victims. You can only learn what your bosses want you to report on by getting close to the residents, after all. There are mysteries to be solved, secrets to be gathered, and hearts to win.

The Longing

The Longing is an adventure-idle game where you play as the solitary servant of a sleeping king. Your task is to wait for him, for four hundred days. Time in the game passes in realtime (for the most part). There are caves to explore, books to be read, and drawings to make.

The Longing is about loneliness and depression. It's about whether or not you decide to stay in that hole, and if you do, what you do with yourself while you're there. Maybe you'll wander. Maybe you'll stare at a wall. Maybe you'll just sleep until it's all over.

Papers, Please

Papers, Please casts you as a newly hired customs officer in a country that is rapidly tightening its borders as its fascist government tightens its fist. This game is stressful. Sometimes you intend to help out the revolutionaries when they asked, but then you got so stressed out trying to make your quota so you can feed your family and pay your bills that you didn't notice the name of the person they were hoping to contact while going through their papers. Sometimes someone puts a bomb in front of you and expects you to defuse it. Sometimes someone suggests you steal people's passports so you can get your family out, and with the horror you see daily, the idea tempts you more than you'd like.

Papers, Please is all about hard choices and testing your moral fortitude. Everything you do has consequences. Being a good person in this game is hardly ever rewarded, but not in a way that feels overly cynical. Papers, Please asks you what kind of person you want to be and what you're willing to sacrifice to get there.

The Return of the Obra Dinn

From the creator of Papers, Please, The Return of the Obra Dinn is a game where you play as an insurance investigator for the East India Trading Company. The ship the Obra Dinn has just floated back into port, its entire crew missing or dead. It's your job to figure out what happened aboard the vessel. For insurance reasons.

I don't know how to go into the themes of this too deeply without giving away too much, but the mechanics of the game itself make the game worth playing. You have a magic stopwatch that allows you to go back to the moment of a person's death, allowing you to try and figure out who (or what) killed them, and how. And the soundtrack is extremely good.

Outer Wilds

In Outer Wilds you play as an unnamed alien, and it's your first day going to space! Your planet's space program is pretty new still, so there's still lots to explore and discover on the planets within your system. There are ancient ruins from a mysterious race that once lived in your system, long before your species began to record history. Why were they here? Where did they go? How are they connected to the weird thing that keeps happening to you?

The fun of Outer Wilds is in the discovery and answering your own questions. The game never tells you where to go, and it never outright tells you anything. There are clues scattered through the system, and it's up to you to put them together and figure out your next steps. It's about the way that life always goes on, no matter what, even when it seems like the end of everything, forever. I'd recommend NOT reading anything else about this game. Just go play it. Seriously, the less you know, the more fun this is.

If on a Winter's Night, Four Travelers

In If on a Winter's Night, Four Travelers, you explore the circumstances of the deaths of four individuals.

This is a short one that took me about two and a half hours to play. If for no other reason, play it for the stunning pixel art. The game explores sexism, racism, and homophobia in the Victorian era and leans heavily into horror themes. Best of all: it's completely free!

Pentiment

Pentiment takes you to the 16th century, where you take the role of Andreas Maler, a journeyman artist working on his masterwork in the scriptorium of an abbey. When someone is murdered, Andreas takes responsibility for finding the culprit.

The game is set over 20~ years and you get to watch how Andreas' actions affect the village in various ways (who's alive the next time you come by, have people gotten married and had children...). It's an exploration of how the past affects the future, and what parts of that past we choose to keep or discard. It has beautiful art, and fans of both Disco and Pentiment often compare them.

Other games you might wanna check out

Night in the Woods, Dredge, Oxenfree, A House of Many Doors, Inscryption, Slay the Princess, Citizen Sleeper, Chants of Sennar, Loop Hero, The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood, The Pale Beyond, Where the Water Tastes Like Wine, Elsinore, Her Story, Before Your Eyes, Pathologic (not delved into above because the venn diagram of Pathologic fans and Disco fans is basically a circle)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team

The thing about cheerleaders and the infamous football team is that they’re quite accurate to their stereotypes

Now not every cheerleader team is run by a head girl who’s a massive bully 

Or that the football team is filled with dumb jocks that are just as violent if not worse

But they’re nothing to scoff at 

They’re beautiful

They’re athletic

And they're disciplined with confidence that comes with successful games and competitions

Such perks might give them quite a bit of power

Power that’s doubled when they’re working together

If you’d like to be happy you’re better off not figuring out just yet 

Since your arrival to the University, you’ve noticed more of your things have gone missing

Maybe this move made you more frazzled than you thought

Because you’ve found that you haven’t been able to keep friends like you used to

At least not without some help

“So you’re the new student, huh? Welcome to Energi University. As cheer captain, I’m really happy to welcome you finally!”

As she drags you along throughout your schedule, you’re waiting for the punch line

The moment she switches to embarrass you or smile coyly as she says something underhanded about your appearance

But she doesn’t 

Only twirling her hair as she asks you where you learned to glow like you do

You find it odd but you’re not complaining

Movies taught you that she and her team were top of the food chain 

so if they liked you enough maybe it’d trickle to some friends eventually

“Looking for a partner? Me too. How about we uh work together, freshie. If we finish before class ends you can have my varsity jacket and I can have yours.”

It seems it works as the beefy but beautiful captain of the football team partners up during chemistry

Between the two captains, you think you’re making progress

Finally beginning to make friends

But you couldn’t be farther from the truth

Already you were skipping right into the pitfall that was their playground—Energi University

It started with the cheerleader’s captain, gorgeous, rich, and with a serious attitude problem

She was making her daily rounds with her two main girls

‘Putting the worms in their place’ as she’d report to her team

Until she found something interesting 

a glasses-wearing nerd had been holding a file, scrolling through someone’s social page with such dedication they didn’t even realize they were being cornered

And its not just someone—you

while her girls were exploring the use of pins on the human body, she was going through this fairly thick file

A file all about you

Filled with hundreds of pictures of you some with consent some not

Extensive organized lists of your likes and dislikes

And a neat report on your current whereabouts and social circle

By the end of it, she was intrigued

She’s never been one for reading but she just can’t put it down

Having to be brought back into the real world when her girls are done playing 

“Already? Ugh, let’s go find the next one this little report of his might be worth selling to those stupid jocks.”

That’s just an excuse 

she’s combing over your photos again as she re-reads about the mundane drama in your life

“Babe, I thought you said you wanted to spend time with me? Not lose braincells studying!” 

Her boyfriend–captain of the football team is trying to draw her attention with kisses and inviting touches

But she’s just too focused

Eventually, he’s going to snatch it all away, taking a look at it

“Who’s this? Your latest victim?”

“Puhlease they don’t even know me…yet.”

The nights they spend together is searching you on socials as they filter through these words about your world

There’s just something about you that has them enraptured

For them it’s like when they first started dating, running off from their teams to gush about their latest finds about you

Texting all through the night about schemes to meet you

Whispering on the bus on their way to seasonal competitions

It isn’t long before the nosey teams start poking around

All it takes is a whispered mention of your name and they’re stalking your socials 

Some hire private investigators to tell all they can get their hands on

It’s like a virus how the whole team is eventually letting your distant lovely little life take up all of theirs 

At some point words and posts just aren’t enough

“Yo Cap, why don’t we just get them to come here?”

“Yeah! I know I can get my dad to extend a scholarship and dormitory if something happens at their old school.”

“Hmm, I do still have those lighter fluid canisters.”

“Oooh and I can get them out of the dorms for awhile!”

“Then  we can swoop in and be the knight’s of shining armor they’ll need!”

“C’mon, captain! Let’s bring them home, aren’t you tired of looking at them through the screen?”

“Don’t you think it’d boost our morale for the championship?”

“Yeah!!” Pleaassee!?”

What terrible captains they’d be if they let their teams down now

So the plan is set, you conveniently are stood up on a date when your dorm and campus is burnt down killing so many friends you made+

The mysterious fire destroying their security footage and all your belongings too 

Its natural you start looking for a new college, a safer option

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t you come to our next game? Forget about that horrible fire and cheer us on!”

“Wait how did you know–”

“Grapevine cutie! Now what do you say to a sleepover!?”

“Not after we do our victory party!”

“Oh, you’ll have to try our captain’s famous jello shot! It’s going to knock your clothes+ socks off.”

Both Captains will watch happily as the group swarms you 

Your questions about the slug you made plans with prior were drowned out in their shouting and giggling

Their goal wasn’t to make you worry 

After all, they had the power to dissolve all of that 

The Captains and their teams

“Now that we have them I don’t see any reason, why our teams won’t be planned for an all-around victory in the nationals.”

“Of course, though we could do it without them. Money and pure talent are a given for people like us.”

“Still there’s nothing wrong with sharing a good luck charm.”

“You are absolutely right..”

“Aren’t I always? That being said we’ll have to talk about the…hoarding issue.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. The next time one of your cheerleaders interrupts me, they’ll be dealing with more than broken legs.”

“And your players should know the next time they take my time with (Y/n) away they won’t just become paralyzed.”

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Subservient | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Rhys’ reputation in Hewn City is less than stellar, so when an orphanage becomes overwhelmed, he offers to take some in. His plan doesn’t turn out how he expected when he’s instead sent you, an employee there, sent to scope Rhys out before sending children to him. And in true High Lord fashion, he unceremoniously dumps you off on his brothers.

Word Count: ~ 3.4k

Warnings: Abuse, starvation, dehydration, child abuse, bruises, scars, injuries, traumatized reader, orphans, but it ends with some fluff I promise

A/N: thank you so much to anon who sent this req in, it def gave me the inspiration I needed, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

When you first arrived, the first thought that Azriel had was that you were a sorry sight, hair clearly previously having been mangled and just brushed in time, clothes old and worn by others before you, eyes tired and dim as you didn’t even try to take in your surroundings, looking completely out of it, even with the High Lord of Night Court sitting only twenty feet from you, lounging on a throne.

Azriel could pick up the subtlest shift of Rhys’ scent, the slight tinge of worry as he took you in, despite the sensual smirk that remained on his face, and his lazy posture like a cat spread out, stretching.

But they were in Hewn City, and Rhys couldn’t afford to be himself in Hewn City, not yet anyway, not until the next generation of Fae that was less cold and brittle arrived. Which could take centuries, at the least. Even now, with the plan that was unfolding, it wasn’t likely the citizens would see him as anything worth their time or support.

And as he watched you silently trudge up to the throne, giving the barest bow in recognition only when the older Fae elbowed you harshly in your too-thin figure, he wondered why he had even thought this would be a good idea. Sure, Rhys didn’t have the best reputation in the Court of Nightmares, and the citizens were angry after the damage done to their city, and the lives lost.

The orphanage had taken in more children than they could handle, requiring help from citizens who weren’t the most willing to serve.

This left Rhys with an idea, one that everyone else in the Inner Circle had given their support for eventually, albeit begrudgingly. He took two birds with one stone and took in some of the orphans to both raise his reputation and solve the orphanage size problem.

The only issue with it had been that the orphanage, despite its problems, and the obvious displays of uncleanliness, lack of employees, and even some abuse, refused to give Rhys any children, and though the High Lord could just override their order, that wouldn’t help with the issue of his reputation.

And so they’d agreed to send a worker, one that had grown up in the orphanage and lived there still, working full time to help the children. And look how well that had turned out, with this malnourished, beaten female showing up, barely even alive.

Rhys didn’t speak, his eyes, unsmiling, on the male who’d led you here, forcing him to speak first. The tension grew thick.

”Here she is, my Lord.”

He said, voice smooth despite the hint of nerves Azriel could detect under it, and in his body language. He was fidgeting, palms sweaty, scent blocked with some sort of sour spray commonly sold here in Hewn City, but Azriel could pick up the notes of fear in it, the anxiety.

Rhys watched silently, waiting just to watch the man slowly become more afraid, before speaking.

”Very well, then. Azriel, escort her to the House.”

He said with a simple wave of his hand, and despite the surprise that rose in Azriel about the fact that Rhys hadn’t called the man out or exposed him in the slightest for the obvious mistreatment of the woman, he pushed it back down, walking over to you and gingerly picking your frail form up as if it might shatter with the slightest amount of force.

A silent winnow to the House of Wind, the shadows gently exploring you, reporting every little injury they found, the dehydration and starvation evident in your body, not to mention the clear lack of sleep from the dark eye bags you possessed.

”What’s your name?”

He tried to ask it softly, so as not to startle you, like talking to a cornered animal, but you weren't very responsive. He sighed near silently, walking to a table, the House pulling out a chair as he set you down in it. A glass of water appeared on the table, and that was the thing that seemed to make your eyes light up again, even if just a little bit. Maybe just natural instincts to get water after going so long without.

He gently grasped the water, bringing it to your lips as they parted, tilting the cup slightly to let the water flow down into your mouth, and you swallowed every drop eagerly, parched tongue that felt like sandpaper finally getting the hydration it screamed for.

You panted as he pulled the cup away, hand going to grasp it to bring it back, but he shook his head and you realized the cup was empty. The House, seeming to sense your thirstiness, decided to help, and your eyes widened when you saw water magically filling the cup. Azriel watched, a small smile playing on his lips at your awe and surprise.

”The House is sentient,”

He explained, voice low and quiet. Gentle.

”It decides that we need a bit of help, sometimes.”

You brought the cup back to your lips, drinking the liquid all down as your hand shakily held the cup. The House filled it up, and you drank again and repeated it until your stomach felt full of all the water it could hold, and you couldn’t keep anything else down.

“Full?”

The shadowsinger asked, and you nodded hesitantly. He seemed to expect it.

”You’ll eat in the morning. For now..”

He glanced outside, at the darkness that had swept over the sky quickly, before turning back to you.

”I’ll take you to your room.”

It was another silent moment, a walk, as he offered a hand you didn’t take at first, only carefully taking after you tried to stand up and your knees buckled immediately. It was more like his arm around your waist, at this point, with how he was holding half of your weight up. Your eyes grew heavy, even as you gaped at the paintings adorning the walls, the carpet and rich wood beneath your feet, the fancy wallpapers and furniture. Just selling one of those pieces of furniture could pay for probably a decade’s worth of food for the orphanage.

A fancy wooden door came into view with a carved siding and intricate leaf patterns with flowers carved around the handle, it opened for the both of you as he walked in. The bed in the center of the room was rich, but looked comfortable, just the way you liked it with the right pillows, blankets, sheets, and everything. There was a side table and a large closet, as well as another door you assumed led to a bathroom. You could’ve sworn you heard music playing somewhere down the hall.

As you walked in, he remained at the doorway, not going to enter your space without your permission as you leaned against the wall, slowly making your way to the bed until you sat down on the edge of it, still in your dirty clothes.

You were too tired to care.

He turned to leave, hand on the door handle before you spoke.

”Y/N.”

He glanced at you, head tilting ever so slightly to the side, eyes narrowing just a bit.

”My name,”

You clarified, voice raspy and thin, but slowly shedding its rough layer, smoothing over with every word you spoke.

“It’s Y/N.”

He looked at you for a long moment, hazel eyes peering into yours, before he gave a small nod, and walked away, the door clicking shut behind him.

~

That night had been the first time you’d spoken to any of them, and also one of your last nights seeing Azriel. He’d been sent away on a mission, only giving you a brief introduction to his brother Cassian, a big, brutish-looking man with a smirk, who had forced you to eat properly every day and even convinced you to help out with the exercises today.

Thanks to the daily intake of protein and nutrients you got three times a day now, as well as water, your thin figure had filled out nicely, and you were outside, detangled and freshly washed hair tied back into a braid that the red-haired priestess had done for you after watching you struggle with doing it on your own. You’d already forgotten her name. Something that started with G.

Cassian was trying to help you with the daily stretches that his mate, Nesta, had supposedly originally started with. Your body wasn’t as frail as before but was stiff as a board due to the long hours of being forced into a wooden chair, or the days spent bent over tables folding laundry or over counters doing dishes, not to mention all the paperwork for an orphanage…

You weren’t flexible. At all.

“Here, try to move your hand slowly down, even just centimeter by centimeter.”

He was trying to get you to touch your toes, but you only frowned, hand refusing to go past the bottom of your knee as you tried to push it further, your already aching back screaming in protest.

The three other females out were practicing their swordplay, or whatever one would call the weapons they were wielding. You could hear steel on steel clinging from here, even, and you saw how Cassian wanted to join them. How his eyes kept glancing up at them, a hint of longing in them, maybe even a gleam of lust at the thought of seeing his mate sparring.

And you felt bad for holding him back from that, bad enough that you just wanted to get this last stupid stretch over so you could go back inside and quit wasting his time. With a little mental shove, you pushed your hand down further, jerking it down and-

Something hurt. Bad. A slight sound of something popping almost, and a sharp pain in the back of your leg. Years of controlling your expression from the harsh punishments of the older women in the orphanage came back as you forced it into a neutral, fingertips gracing your toe as you slowly shifted back into a standing position.

Cassian must’ve been too focused on the other females to notice your subtle limp, or how all of your weight was focused on one leg. He raised a brow, glancing back at you when he saw you shift up.

“I touched it.”

You said simply, and he grinned, genuine pride in his eyes gleaming so brightly that it hurt flashing as he nodded.

“You’re making good progress, go take a break. We’ll pick it up tomorrow, yeah?”

You gave a nod, and he patted you gently on the back as he jogged past, picking up a sword and launching straight into sparring with Nesta as you managed to get into the House.

Cassian might’ve been a bit oblivious, but the House of Wind was anything but. Immediately, a chair appeared right near the entrance, and a strong sudden wind pushed you into it, a cold cushion appearing right beneath the aching spot in your thigh as you sat down.

The chair began moving, going straight into your room, where you shifted onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

Strangely though, the House didn’t do anything further. Didn’t provide any ice, or anything to compress it with, so you supposed it was up to you. Usually, it provided anything you needed badly.

Shifting up, your hand went to gently explore the back of your thigh, tenderly pushing against your pants to find the spot that was aching so badly, and soon enough, you found it. A sharp pain shot through your nerves as you grunted and flinched at it, hand immediately going away.

You tried to stand up, but your knee on that right thigh completely buckled, and you fell to the floor in a heap, vision swimming.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you loosed a deep breath, frustration blooming through you.

“Need some help?”

A familiar low voice asked, and you opened your eyes, only to see Azriel standing right by one of the windows, head tilted to the side, hazel eyes examining. His shadows whirled around him, some carefully approaching you. You froze under his gaze, eyes widening.

“How long have you been standing there?”

You asked, and he began to approach, long strides making their way to you as he crouched down in front of you. He hummed in thought, lips pursing before he answered.

“Long enough to know you’re hurt. Can I pick you up?”

He questioned, eyes peering into yours, asking for consent. After just picking you straight up that first introduction without asking, he figured he might’ve not made the best impression, and he planned to undo that. Or maybe he was just overthinking this whole thing. Either way, consent is still a good thing to get.

You nodded, glancing down at your leg as you began trying to squirm, but with a single shake of his head, Azriel shut it down. His hands wrapped around you, slowly lifting you up and carefully to avoid your hurt thigh as he took you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat.

“Do you know what’s..wrong with it?”

You asked, and he glanced at your right thigh, shadows flitting around him.

“I’d assume a hamstring tear. Hopefully just a partial one.”

You gulped nearly audibly at that. An entire hamstring tear, just from some stupid stretches that you couldn’t get down. You’d bothered this family enough, and to have Azriel, probably fresh from a mission and tired as hell, having to help you with this…it was more than embarrassing as well.

“I’m going to need to…”

He swallowed awkwardly, gesturing to your pants, and you grimaced. He must’ve noticed, because he quickly offered up a solution.

“I can have the shadows do it, they won’t hurt you. Promise.”

You nodded at that, a breathy little-

“Okay,”

-escaping your lips. Azriel turned away as the cool touch of the shadows, at first made you shudder, though you eventually adjusted as they unbuttoned the pants, slowly slipping them off, making sure the material didn’t put any pressure against your injured leg. They also made sure to tug your shirt down to cover your underwear, which you silently thanked them for. You didn’t need the shadowsinger seeing all that.

He eventually turned back around, probably having been signaled by his shadows that they were done. His gaze remained respectful, making sure to never wander as he bent down, glancing up at the bottom of your thigh and frowning to himself, before nodding.

“Torn hamstring. We’ll keep pressure and ice on it while I wait for Madja.”

You blinked.

“We? Also, who’s Madja?”

You asked, brows furrowed in mild confusion.

“Madja is our family healer. She’s been doing it for centuries now, I sent my shadows to contact her the moment I saw you injured. And you aren’t going to be staying all alone while injured. It’s a ‘we’ situation.”

He replied bluntly, somehow still not a rude sort of blunt, though. Your cheeks turned red.

“You didn’t have to do that, it’s not that bad. Really, I could’ve managed-“

He cut you off before you even got the rest of the sentence out.

“You collapsed from the pain while trying to stand up. It was that bad. Despite whatever you experienced while at that orphanage may have led you to believe, you are not subservient, and you are allowed to have problems.”

He said almost sternly, and you sat there, shocked for a moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You said, swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, and he gave you a doubtful look, moving to sit down so he wasn’t towering over you, settling on the floor across from where you were sitting.

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you clean the dishes off after dinners, help set the table before them, offer to babysit Nyx for Feyre, clean the weapons the Valkyries use in training for them…it’s obvious.”

His hazel eyes met yours yet again, and you tried to swallow that lump down, failing, again.

“It’s hard not to try and help out when I’m just stuck here as some charity case for the High Lord.”

There it was. The truth finally came out.

It felt bad saying it out loud, worse than it sounded in your head, but it got rid of some of the pressure in your chest finally saying it.

The orphans were starving and dehydrated, abused, and here you were, complaining about getting unlimited access to food, water, exercise, and plenty of opportunities those children would’ve gobbled up, opportunities you would’ve gobbled up at their age, had you gotten the chance.

Azriel didn’t look surprised. In fact, he looked like he’d been expecting you to say this eventually.

“It’s just—being stuck here, with all these things, when the children at the orphanage need them more than me, with the food shortages and dehydration, and Mother knows the abuse going on behind the scenes—it just feels wrong.”

He let you talk, watching you rant, while a pack of ice appeared on the floor, given by the House. When you finally managed to calm down, tears still welling in your eyes from frustration and anger, he stood up, hand resting on your shoulder.

“I know.”

He said quietly, and you sniffled, glancing up at him.

“What?”

He hesitated, before answering your question.

“I knew the orphanage wasn’t right. I’ve known for a while. It wasn’t about a charity case, or that’s not why I originally suggested it. I needed a whistleblower to shut it down.”

Your eyes widened at his words.

“You want me to…”

“Only if you want to.”

The decision was yours.

Would you keep your mouth shut about the things you’d experienced as a child and employee at the orphanage, where you’d been trapped and abused for years, or would you finally stop being subservient and ignoring your own needs?

~

Nearly six months later, the final court proceedings went through.

It was shut down, and the children all relocated to Velaris’ orphanage funded by Feyre’s earnings from her art studio. After several bruises, scars, deformities, and the obvious malnourishment and illness in most children and employees were pointed out, not to mention some first-hand testimonies led by you, and a handful of other employees and children, it was an open and shut case.

It was a wonder no one had uncovered it earlier.

Almost as if they’d been purposefully ignoring it.

But it was over now, you thought, as you stood in one of the many balconies at the House of Wind, looking at the view over Velaris. A warm presence made itself known as cool shadows began slithering up your arms that were on the railing.

He stood beside you, also taking in the view. His scarred hands, unbound by the usual gloves he wore when getting home from missions, rested on the railing. Your cold hands slowly crept up to his, fingers brushing, both of you holding your breath as your eyes met, and your fingers intertwined slowly, carefully.

Gently, but not because you were fragile, not because Azriel thought you would easily break, he'd already learned that even when you’d been put through trial and tribulation time after time you came out dented, but whole. It was gentle because you both needed a slight reprieve from the world’s chaos and violence. From the horrors that lurked in your mind, prowling and waiting for the right moment to come back up, unwelcome and unwanted.

His wings shifted, one curling around you as he subtly shifted you closer, the limp less pronounced in your sideways step toward him.

Your free hand made its way to his cheek, softly stroking with the pad of your thumb, the barely developed calluses from your training with Cassian a soothing feeling for Azriel. His free hand made to lightly stroke your cheek, letting you take the lead. Giving you a choice.

You leaned in closer, and he bent down slightly, just so you wouldn’t have to rise on your toes to reach his face. Your lips brushed softly against his, a tentative touch, but not unsure as his reaction of kissing you back spurred you on.

And for a moment, both of you intertwined beneath the sky, everything was alright.

[toxycodone]

The way i need kabru to teach me the anatomy of the human body by using himself as a model and he’s explaining how all the vital points are laid out but he’s struggling because my hands are dipping a little too low below his belt and squeezing his neck a bit too firmly

vital points (kabru of utaya x reader)

wc. 1.5k

cw. romantic/sexual tension, nothing explicit

No one in Kabru's party is a particularly skilled dungeon crawler. Despite all efforts it seems his party is always taken out before they can do any true exploring of the dungeon's secrets.

Therefore, being the excellent leader that he is, Kabru has decided to take it upon himself to give out combat lessons. And it's only logical he starts with you first. Mickbell has his own specialties--poison darts and all. Kabru's not sure if he'd even be interested in lessons. And even if he was, would he even pay attention? It's probably not worth the trouble. Kuro is well, Kuro. What part of that demihuman's body isn't a weapon? His sharp senses make him one of, if not the most well-equipped members of his team. It's the main reason Kabru keeps a demi-human, one partly monster, like him around. Aside from the fact he's a package deal with the half-foot. Kabru's sure Kuro could make it throigh the dungeon on his own.

Daya is the second best. Strong. Capable. A weapons expert. She can take a hit and throw it back with ease. Rin and Holm are the magic users. Combat would likely be wasted on them. Rin's frail, but she already has similar knowledge to Kabru as she grew up with the same foster mom. And Holm...likely wouldn't agree to lessons. He's maintained a commitment to do no harm to others unless absolutely necessary. Kabru's not going to try to convince him to learn his way around a weapon and how to maim unless it's completely critical.

However. That leaves you.

You're different. Not entirely useless, but not entirely skilled on the other hand. Kabru's still trying to figure you out. Quite the enigma you are to him. He's come to the conclusion you're a jack-of-all-trades type of figure. For now, at least. You don't exactly take away from the party. But you're not hindering their descent, either. It's intriguing from an anthropological standpoint, yet infuriating from his stance as leader of his party.

But again, he wonders what skills you do possess, exactly. Everyone has their specialties, be it what it may. He wonders if combat might be something he can help you succeed--no, excel--in. He'll bring out the best in you via this method, and come to learn more about you in the process. Two birds with one stone. In the back of Kabru's mind, his own desire rears its head. The desire to be close to you. He's not exactly sure why or where this desire stems from. However...it can be satiated via a combat lesson. Three birds, he muses. You pique his interest in a variety of ways.

When it first comes to combat, jumping right in is never ideal. The first means of success comes from mapping out vital points. The human anatomy is a good start. Dungeons are full of demi-human and human adversaries alike. It's important to know them for one to defend themselves, unarmed or not. And these vitals seem to remain uniform among all creatures.

Head. Neck. Abdomen. Groin.

The four major sensitive groups one should know. He's starting small for now. Too much information could be overwhelming. It wouldn't be worth to teach you so much at once that

You're in front of him now, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Not in a literal sense. A metaphorical one. Well, your eyes are bright. He's always liked them. Not that it matters. Why is he thinking of this?

Kabru shakes his head a little, trying to steady his thoughts. Back to business.

"The first lesson in defense is understanding anatomy." Kabru muses, looking through his notes. There's no real time to fetch a book at this point. Or a model. Kabru's not necessarily gifted at art either. Not that a simple drawing would do.

He can serve in its place, as an example. A physical specimen would be the most insightful. You're probably a hands on learner, he decides. It's definitely not as an excuse to have you close to him. Definitely not. Not that he's entirely against that, though.

"Starting with the head. There's plenty of areas you can exploit there," Kabru points to his eyes. You follow suit. They're such a striking blue. Hypnotic. Mesmerizing.

"Eyes are the easiest to access. They're the first thing humans notice. You can predict someone's movements by figuring out where they're looking towards. It'll likely show you where they intend to attack." Kabru leans forward absentmindedly. "They're also sensitive. Even a simple move can distract or blind an opponent. Don't be afraid to strike there. Even though Mickbell might tease you for fighting dirty. All's fair in dungeon combat."

You chuckle and agree. Kabru's pleased his attempt at humor landed. It seems to lighten the air around you two.

"Next, the neck. There's two main points here you want to recognize." Kabru takes your hand, offering a reassuring smile as he does so, then presses it to the underside of his neck. They're a little cold, you note. And almost dainty. His hands aren't particularly calloused. He must take good care of them.

He guides your index finger to the skin on the outside of his neck. His skin carries a hint of heat to it.

"This is where the external jugular is located. It's one of the most important veins in the body. It carries blood to the head and neck area. Just a simple cut can slice through it. A simple turn of the head is enough to expose it."

He moves your hand more inward, now pressing slightly into the divot close to his trachea. His chest rises slowly, then falls. There's a faint beating under the skin now. Kabru's pulse.

"The internal jugular is here. If you can land a hit here, do it. You'll have to go deep and make sure you slice clean through the skin. It can disable a foe in seconds."

You try to keep your mind on the lesson. But his skin is remarkably soft. And smooth. You're close enough now to count his stubble. Well, you would if there was any to count. How does Kabru manage to keep himself so well groomed on dungeon excursions. Maybe you could count those thick, lovely eyelashes inste--

A simple call of your name breaks your thoughts. Not only were you not paying attention, but your fingerpads dig slightly into his skin. You struggle to find an explanation for your absentmindedness, then decide to pin it on you being hyperfocused.

Kabru, ever so forgiving, decides to move on without further question. Internally, you thank him for preserving your dignity. What's left of it. You're almost certain he's caught onto the fact your no longer solely doing this for the sake of combat knowledge.

"The abdomen hosts a majority of the body's necessary organs. The lung's can be pierced easily through the ribcage." Deft fingers lead you across the expanse of his chest. You're a bit shocked. Without his armor, Kabru's a lot smaller. Being revived time and time again has left its mark on his body. There's still power to him though. His muscle isn't all gone. You can surmise your leader has quite the lithe build.

Kabru continues to go on, despite you not listening. He likes to talk about anatomy, for one. But he's also trying to hide his own amusement at your reaction to touching him. You're admiring him in your own way. Which means you may harbor similar feelings towards him that he has towards you. Interesting. He takes note of this as your hands are guided lower.

Stomach. Liver. Kidneys.

And last is the groin.

Kabru's puzzled. He didn't really consider how this would play out in his hands-on anatomy lesson. Desire clouded his mind earlier, but now that he can peek through it...the realization of the situation sets in. How should he proceed? He can tell by your reactions you're fascinated by the lesson at the least. Kabru's sure you need this lesson. The groin is probably the most effective place to punch, kick, or slice in a pinch. As inappropriate as it is, in general and a workplace sense, he still wants you to keep touching him.

His hands leave yours. He's leaving it up to you, now. Whether you choose to continue or not will tell him what he wants to know--if he's been going too far or not.

"The groin is the last area you should become familiar with. I'm sure you're aware, but it's particularly sensitive." Kabru's not sure whether to look at you or your hands. He goes for the latter when your fingers trail over his belt, threatening to move towards the linen of his pants below.

"The genital area, more specifically. No matter the sex. A swift punch, kick. Even just grasping it. You can get an advantage in combat. Either as a distraction, or...."

Your fingers keep going lower. He's sure you aren't paying attention, now far too invested in your personal lesson on anatomy. There's a slight bulge in his pants. It's stiffens when you ghost over it.

Kabru's breath stifles. He swallows his spit like it's cement.

"A-and that's the gist of it."

Kabru stutters for the first time ever, you think. Your curious hands flee his body as a result, now returning to your sides. That was...exhilirating. So simple, yet...you can tell the two of you are craving more.

"Uh," You're first to break the awkward tension. "Thank you, Kabru. For the lesson. It was very informative." A certain tone lingers on the last word. Kabru can practically see the air quotations around it. His dark skin deepens with color. For once in your span of knowing him, Kabru's eyes don't tear into you.

"Right. It's my duty as your leader, after all. Thank you for listening. We can go back to the others now."

Kabru is known for his penchant for understanding others. Almost being able to predict their next moves with ease. However, your next move is wildly unpredictable, tossing out everything he once assumed about your attitude and demeanor.

You ask when the next lesson is. You'd like to study anatomy-perhaps his anatomy, more thoroughly.

And what he also doesn't expect is his eagerness to respond. The next lesson can't come soon enough.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfiction prompt: considering that wind can see ghosts but instead of hiding it he thinks that everyone can see them because everyone has dealt with supernatural forces

Main while the chain is freaking out because wind keeps talking to nobody and telling them that their his friends or the most unhinged statement he is enemies with the stripes guy who always stands menacingly in a corner trying to be cool (fierce deity)

And the chain starts to worry about wind badly because that is not sane behavior

While another part of the chain (particularly twilight) doesn’t take it THIS seriously because he remembers how Colin spent weeks complaining about his imaginary friend not playing with him and that children can be imaginative especially when bored and that only making him a new toy got him to play with his friend again

And that ends up in the chain thinking that wind must be incredibly bored because they walk all day and not letting him explore and play with bugs and they decided to fix it (but quickly realized that they are in the middle of a forest with nothing particularly interesting)

Wind main while has absolutely no idea what to do with the hand made toy lobster (legend definitely can sew like have you seen him and the ton of outfits he has) or the Fact that Wolfie seems particularly persistent to play fetch ..!.,?! What is going on!? (Twilight quickly realized that he is dog shaped and he also feels extremely guilty that wind is only walking with them)

But also he definitely can’t throw it away because the legend clearly put effort into the thing and he does love lobsters

And he would rather die than let the chance pass to play with Wolfie (that guy never has fun and nobody can make him play anything and the look of pure envy from Wild was totally worth it he is Wolfie's new favorite now , screw you wild)

But unfortunately that one extra toy seems to do nothing about Wind's insistence to talk with walls

And Wolfie tries really really hard to be more interesting than the walls ( he is failing because ghosts will always be more interesting )

The second they enter a town every single link with money goes to ransack the entire town for toys

And wind catches on about their concerns with his mental state and realizes that explaining them how he can see ghosts would probably confirm to them he is crazy

He awkwardly takes the toys and rearranges them in a way that every ghost is next to a toy so that the chain can stop complaining about him because now he has the excuse that he is totally talking to his toys and not any other beings or voices or walls

The chain is happy because they can almost always see him talk to the toys and play with them (the dread they feel when he keeps naming them after dead loved ones of them is something but maybe it is just a coincidence)

Then they catch him playing a game and it’s just the lobster who apparently is named after legend and the bird who he named Marin (Wind was totally only re-enacting Marin's story because he is definitely an adult and only doing the logical thing)

Time later sees him with Wild's majora’s mask (that sits with its face turned like it’s trying not to look at someone) while Wind keeps talking about a big guy with stripes on his face and how he tried to be cool when defeating the demon (war flashbacks activated because that stripes guy seems very familiar)

And legend gets an aneurysm because that lobster story strikes way to close to home for him

They take way to long to figure out in this one (they are the heroes of courage not wisdom afterall)

[cherrifire]

Please share your thoughts on the other 5 cutie marks, I'd love to hear!

Hi everypony! I got like 20 asks for the Dogwarts cutie mark lore so I'm here to speak my truth!

Before we start, I would like to write a quick reminder that a pony's cutie mark is not always their "special talent", but can also represent who they are, their personalities, and a possible destiny. Different cutie marks have different meanings and interpretations, but they're not just about representing what you're good at.

That being said, let's start with the cutie mark design I'm proudest of!

Ren's Cutie Mark

Ren's cutie mark is of a sunrise and looks pretty simple at first glance but there was a lot of thought that went into this one.

First of all, I bet you're wondering why a sunrise? Well, in the show, it is pretty typical for unicorns with great magical abilities to have one relating to space (examples being Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunburst). And I figured since I wanted Ren to fall into a similar position of potentially becoming an alicorn, I gave him a cutie mark following the same trend. And I chose a sunrise to reflect the way Ren seems to glow when he enters a room. The way he carries himself is very warm and bright it just catches your eye in a similar way the sun would.

Also, Ren wears sunglasses. So a sun-themed cutie mark seemed appropriate.

Additionally, there are a couple of smaller details I want to point out too. Like the sun rays, if you look at them for a moment you'll see they're shaped like little crowns! I of course had to put a crown in thanks to how much Ren likes to play royalty, so I snuck it in there. And then the red spots underneath could both be interpreted as the sun reflected over water or blood. (But of course, this is a kid show AU so there wouldn't be any blood in Ren's destiny, just a fun reference to the red king and his whole thing about blood dyeing the snow red)

Martyn's Cutie Mark

I explained this one in an earlier ask but I thought I'd explain it again here for anyone who didn't see it!

Martyn's cutie mark is of a chopped log and a small stick.

This one is mostly a play on the name "Littlewood" but has other meanings too. As a character, Martyn tends to travel and explore quite a bit. In the Life Series specifically, he is usually the last one to find a permanent base and even then doesn't spend a lot of time in one place. Always on the move. Additionally, he's more of a wild card compared to other characters, always trying to be as unpredictable as possible.

The smaller detail here is the little swirl on top of the log is the same as the one on his Minecraft skin's shirt.

BigB's Cutie Mark

Cookies! Cookies! Cookies! BigB's cutie mark is of 3 cookies where one is trying to eat the others. There are also a few sprinkles there made to look like action lines.

We all know BigB loves cookies so of course I had to give him a cutie mark with cookies in it. For this one, I decided to follow the cutie mark trend of "symbol/item important to the pony duplicated 3 times" (examples being Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie) but I added a bit more creativity to it with the top on trying to eat the others to represent just how tasty they are 😋

Additionally, rather than the first cookie trying to eat the others, you could interpret it as opening its mouth to talk. Because BigB can not keep a secret to save his life! In Double Life when he started "secret soulmates" with Grian, he didn't last a day without opening his mouth. He told Ren about it immediately because he felt bad for keeping things from him.

Also worth quickly mentioning: People pointed out in my original post that they don't think BigB would be the element of honesty because of his behaviour in Secret Life. But that's just Secret Life. I think Secret Life to BigB was like that episode of My Little Pony where Discord makes the main 6 act the opposite of their true element. BigB was just going through a weird phase of telling very obvious lies because a book told him to.

Skizz's Cutie Mark

Skizz's cutie mark is of a lightning bolt from a couple storm clouds hitting the ground.

I think this is the cutie mark with the least thought put into it, unfortunately. There was still though just not as much as the others. The big thing I thought was fun was I made the lightning bolt shaped like an "S" to stand for Skizzleman. But other than that, this cutie mark sort of has the same meaning as Rainbow Dash's cutie mark. Quick like lightning, loud, bold, dangerous, and powerful.

Impulse's Cutie Mark

Impulse's cutie mark is of a lit-up lightbulb.

I absolutely crowded this cutie mark with the letter i. If you look closely, there are 6 of them. Impulse's design also has an i-shaped pattern on the belly if you look closely enough. But that's more of a fun easter egg and doesn't exactly reflect Impulse as a character.

There are a couple of reasons I chose a lightbulb for Impulse, the first and probably most obvious is that he's a redstone guy! He's a technical guy who likes to work smarter, not harder. So I figured the My Little Pony equivalent would be a light bulb/electricity. The second reason for the lightbulb is that it's usually used as a visual representation when characters have that "eureka!" moment in cartoons. When someone has a brilliant idea a little lightbulb turns on above their head. So since Impulse is the ideas guy, I figured a lightbulb would work for his cutie mark.

Etho's Cutie Mark

Etho's cutie mark is of a snowflake with a missing branch.

I promise there is more to this cutie mark than just "Canada is cold" even if that's part of the reason I wanted to give him a winter-themed cutie mark. While it is fun to make a nod to Etho being Canadian, I thought a winter-themed cutie mark would be fun to represent how he sometimes presents himself. Cold and a bit mysterious. I think deep down once you get to know him, those attributes melt away, but for people who have never met him, he may be intimidating that way.

I'll be honest, I don't watch a lot of Etho content, but I do have a few friends who identify as Etho girlies so I did my research. I was told in his Minecraft Let's Play World, that he has a snowflake build somewhere. I believe they said it was an iron golem farm? (Please correct me if I'm wrong) but I thought that was perfect for the cutie mark. And if you're wondering why there's a branch missing, it's because one of my friends said he was incapable of finishing builds sometimes so I thought that would be fun to include.

-=+=-

Alright. Rant over. To celebrate, here are a few pony doodles so I can put this post in my art tag.

[vxnuslogy]

– to fall for the sun.

pairing: albedo x gn!reader

premise: albedo was not a poet, but for you, he could try to become one.

– warnings: fluff, yearner albedo, he sucks at poetry (he's trying his best), poor attempts in making poetry at the end

– author’s notes: this is a remake of my old albedo fic but instead of angst, its fluff so yippie!! art credits goes to @.Jotto75 on twitter. thank you to @lowkeyren for proofreading and creating the title <3 | ~1.4k words.

“mr. albedo, are you alright?” sucrose, his assistant, asked. worry etched in her eyes as she watches her mentor’s hunched figure throw away another crumpled piece of paper. 

“yes, yes, i’m quite alright. please don’t mind me.”

but albedo was anything but alright. he pushed his messy hair back with his hand and let out a tired sigh. albedo had ultimately underestimated your talent in making poetry–he had always assumed you just wrote whatever you felt on paper–no need for fancy words or metaphors. yet here he was, on the third day in a row, filling the small trash bin in his office with poorly written declarations of love.

albedo wonders how you do it. you, a traveler from fontaine, coming to visit mondstadt to explore the nation’s ballads and poetry, had easily captured the hearts of many by just walking down the cobblestone paths that lead inside its walls. you with your charming presence, felt like a character from an inazuman fairytale, had even captured the bard in green. but more than that, you had captured his attention—maybe even his heart—by simply existing.

with one glance you had enamored his chalky heart. suddenly, the paint brushes that were in his hand itched to be used on a blank canvas to paint your portrait, wanting to forever remember the smile that glowed under the afternoon sun. albedo could’ve sworn he saw fresh cecilias beneath your feet with every step you took inside the city. 

in one glance, you flashed him a knowing smile and gave him a bow. 

venti played his lyre and before the chalk prince knew, he was tugged into a dance near the city’s fountain. everyone laughed and danced and sang, but all albedo could see was the way you sat by the bard, a quill in your hand and a piece of parchment on the other. you cleared your throat, capturing everyone’s attention and started reciting your magnum opus.

albedo didn’t quite understand most of its content–a real shame he thinks–but there was one line that made his mind tick in interest.

“why does icarus continue to fly despite his impending doom?”

he was not a poet by any means, he was a researcher, a slave to finding the truth, but he found the mystery behind your words worth uncovering. 

so for the next few days you stayed in mondstadt, albedo had asked for your time to ask you questions. the two of you spent your time in dragonspine in his lab. he asked about your inspirations as you chatter about your love for words and asked him in return on why he paints. albedo concluded after your time together that you were simply born with poetry running through your veins and pumping metaphors and analogies to your beating heart. there was no sense of logic in your being–it wasn’t a bad thing, emotions seemed to transcend all logic to begin with–and he found that incredibly charming.

which leads to his predicament now: inside his office, trying to rack his brain on a verse that would evoke the same feeling you showed him when you first met.

he loved your poetic mind, the calluses from pens on your fingers, your ink-stained blouses and hands, the love letters hidden under the guise of friendly affections—he loved you. but he didn’t know how to showcase it. relationships were troublesome–hard to maintain. but he wanted to try. he didn’t fall in love easily–he didn’t even know he was capable of falling in love–but he felt his growing yearning for you deep in his chalk stained bones. for once in his life, albedo wanted his fixation and interest in you to last a lifetime, afraid of the lingering bittersweet sensation that you would leave him.

with one last sigh, he picked up his sketchbook and left his office. a change of pace would surely inspire him, he tried to convince himself, but not even a few steps later, he sees you by the entrance of the knight’s headquarters. and like the first time, you flashed him a smile with those eyes and his mind went blank. you tug at his hand–his heart–ever so gently, urging him to have a picnic with you under the afternoon sun.

“you seem to really love using icarus in your poems.” albedo randomly mentioned, taking a bite of the adventurer’s sandwich you bought. you only hum and continue to write in your journal. against his better judgment, albedo leaned into your space, trying to take a peek of your newest piece, but you quickly shut the journal and stuck your tongue at him.

“peeking is rather rude y’know?” you jest and his chuckle ringed out. 

“pardon my rudeness,” he said. “i was simply curious.”

albedo was sure there was something swimming in his chest–fondness, most probably–as you flash him a knowing smile. you take out something from your bag, a crown made out of cecilias and windwheel asters, and place it on the crown of his head, leaving him with a quiet but undeniable joy that he couldn’t quite name.

“i see myself as icarus, that’s my answer.”

“how so?” he asked, mindlessly flipped through his sketchbook and felt a growing smile tug at his lips when he saw your handwriting in the corners of a few pages. 

you don’t answer–you never do– but albedo never minded. he liked it whenever you left him guessing. for the rest of the afternoon, you both spend your time in each other’s presence as you eat your food. you talked about the new book lisa had given you to read in your spare time and he asked you what colors he should use on his next painting. “yellow because they remind me of you.” would always be your reply and he’d comply.

by the time he waved you goodbye and sat back down in his office, there was another letter pressed in his sketchbook. he could already feel his heart racing as he reached for it.

“to my dearest, albedo

you seem to really ponder over the last verse of my poem when i first arrived in mondstatd. i must say, i feel honored that i made your mind tick with curiosity. i found myself gravitating towards your presence more and more after you asked me if i could be the subject of your painting. that was the first time i’ve ever been the muse to someone’s creation. it sent my heart into a giddy fit you know. you are no poet, as i am no painter; i cannot paint the image i have of you on a canvas, but i can put my affections into words. after all, the verse ‘why does icarus continue to fly despite his impending doom.’ was always meant for you—to capture your attention.”

albedo sat down on his chair, a gloved covering half of his face to hide the pathetically infatuated smile on his face. he took out the second letter from the envelope, bracing his heart to whatever emotion you would stir inside him.

“like icarus, i found myself

flying straight into the pools of his eyes

with my wings made of wax, 

i soared straight into his guarded heart

and let his burning affections scorch me and melt my wings.

then i fell—or so i thought

my body did not meet the ground harshly,

for he caught me,

in all the gentleness known to mankind, 

he treated my scorched skin with care.

i was icarus and he is my sun,

with gold and glitter in all his glory.

icarus is a fool in love.

why does icarus continue to fly, despite his impending doom?

because the sun is icarus’s love.

in every lifetime, he will always choose to fall,

loving him despite it being too hot, too close.

icarus is a fool in love, for without the sun,

he would have no reason to live.

why would icarus fly if he had no sun to fly to?”

albedo’s eyes traced over the last line of your poem, his heart rattling with uncharacteristic tenderness and a gentle ache. your words had breathed life to the emotions he never knew he was capable of feeling.

he looked down on his sketchbook, then out the window to gaze at the setting sun. the warmth reminding him of your love for icarus—him. he was no poet, but for you, he could perhaps become one.

with careful hands like you described in your poem, he folded the parchment and placed it gently into his sketchbook, right beside the finished sketch of you under the afternoon sun, cecilias blooming right under your feet. a small smile tugged at his lips as he picked up his pencil.

for the first time in a long while, albedo finally understood what it meant to be inspired.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[vidavalor]

Yes, Crowley's expression here is hilarious and always worth a post in its own right 😊 but I thought I'd share something about what he's doing with his hand for anyone who is unfamiliar with that particular gesture, as it has a name and a purpose that goes along with a few other scenes in the series. It's also a good strategy in real life for anyone experiencing anxiety and might want another tool in their toolbox for it.

TWs: anxiety; trauma; PTSD; brief, indirect mention of SA.

For a lot of people who get something on their hands and are exploring the texture of it, the inclination would be to rub together the thumb and the index finger. Crowley's unique use of his fingers isn't just a sorcery thing, though, as what he is doing in this scene-- touching his thumb to his middle finger-- has a name amongst us humans.

It's called shuni mudra.

If you meditate or practice yoga, you have likely heard of mudras, which are different ways of positioning the hands to use the fingers to create a seal that directs prana-- aka energy flow-- in different ways throughout the body. Shuni mudra is done to generate a sense of calm and patience-- especially patience with the self. It is a hand gesture done as a way to help regulate the heart, circulatory & nervous systems and is most commonly used to counter anxiety. Like with any mudra, you don't have to do it in the midst of a yoga or a meditation session but can make the gesture just whenever you feel the need, as Crowley did in the scene above. If you give it a try, you'll probably find that it is surprisingly relaxing for such a simple gesture.

Crowley's outsized startle response to getting hit with the paint is very funny but it is also pretty typical of someone with PTSD-- especially someone who has it as a result of bodily autonomy violations, as is the case with Crowley. People who have experienced non-consensual loss of control over themselves tend to have a jumpy response to sudden, unexpected stimuli in their environment.

Even though Crowley flailing dramatically is hilarious to watch because he's so over-the-top with it, beneath the humor in the scene is also that being unexpectedly hit with something out of nowhere is a very common thing that can trigger anxiety in people with PTSD. Good Omens is very good at finding some humor in dealing with darkness and a comparable scene in tone to this is Gabriel bouncing off the walls when the angels show up at the bookshop in S2. What is very amusing "books are keen!", fly-chasing zaniness is really, underneath, unconscious anxiety manifesting, as part of Gabriel's mind knows that the angels are a threat to him and is reacting with panic at them in his bookshop safe space.

Ironically, reacting with panic to an angel perceived as a threat being in the bookshop safe space is also Crowley's S2 plot, as if he and Gabriel didn't already have more in common than Crowley is ready to admit...

But, back to the hand gesture thing...

There is evidence that things like shuni mudra are effective simply because they help to create a pause that interrupts anxious and self-critical thoughts, which then allows space for calming the mind and body. Used in the way that Crowley is using it here, it's very similar to the Five Things/5-4-3-2-1 strategy for staving off or stopping an anxiety attack, in that both pull people back into the present moment by creating a sense of concentration on something besides the feeling of panic.

That Crowley does this pretty intuitively in the paintball scene as a response to having something anxiety-inducing happen to him indicates he likely does it pretty frequently. Crowley automatically going to shuni mudra while he takes a breath and figures out what, exactly, has happened, is indicative of someone with an awareness of their anxiety and PTSD and who has and uses strategies to help manage them, which goes along with things we've seen in other scenes as well.

Crowley and Aziraphale are inhaling places and food with a clear devotion to trying to live mindfully. You don't need to have experienced trauma to do that but mindful living is prescriptive for virtually every sort of mental health struggle that exists so Crowley and Aziraphale seeing it as therapeutic, as well as enjoyable, seems likely.

In the bookshop, they have a lotus flower rug. The lotus flower has long been a symbol of trauma recovery. You might have heard of the saying "no mud, no lotus", referring to how beauty and health can be made in the wake of horrible experiences. The lotus flower originates in the mud at the bottom of a body of water and travels through it to bloom above the surface, which is at the root of it being symbolic across different cultures for things like enlightenment, purity, strength, and recovery. Its resilience and ability to literally wade through struggle to come through into the light and bloom makes it a metaphor for getting through different forms of trauma.

That Crowley and Aziraphale have this rug in their World of Carpets that is the bookshop, when combined with these other scenes, show how they're dedicated to working through their stuff together and trying to be the best trauma-informed partners they can to one another.

It's also on the lotus rug that Crowley and Aziraphale put Gabriel to perform the miracle to protect him and, when they do, their magic is done with both of them using another hand gesture-- gyan mudra, the seal of knowledge-- to complete the miracle.

I think if you take all of this together, you could make the case for either or both of Crowley and Aziraphale using yoga and/or meditation to help manage the effects of trauma. For those who think that Crowley has chronic pain, there's also that both of these things have been helpful for managing that in many people, so that might be another reason for Crowley, in particular, to practice them.

The lotus rug in the shop might not just be symbolic but also a meditation/yoga spot. Do we think The Serpent always starts with Snake Pose, just because? 🤭

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Chavs No More

Liam and Josh, two 19 year old mates who were known around their neighbourhood for their cocky, rebellious attitude and distinct dress, found themselves wandering through an area of the city that had been neglected for too many years. As they walked and 'chatted shit' they spotted a disused warehouse with smashed windows and broken doors. It seemed like the perfect place to kill time, perhaps, indulge in a bit of mischief and check it our as a possible place to get together with their other mates for drinking and smoking.

Josh took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. The two life-long friends approached the rundown warehouse, its windows broken and doors creaking ominously on their hinges.

"Oi, Liam, reckon we can get in there?" Josh asked, nodding towards the entrance.

Liam smirked, "Easy. Watch and learn."

With a swift movement, Liam produced a crowbar from his bag, expertly jimmying the lock on the door. The two scallies slipped through the doorway into the building; their footsteps echoing in the emptiness of a very large space. The expanse of the space they found themselves in suggested the building's original purpose was a factory, although neither had a sense of what was once produced there. Josh lit up another cigarette, while Liam explored the desolate space hoping, perhaps, that he would happen upon something of value.

Josh stamped out his cigarette as Liam returned empty-handed.

"Liam, let's see if ther is like owt worth stealin'. look ova ther", Josh said pointing towards a set of double doors on the far side of the building.

The two friends began to wander across the former factory floor eventually reaching the double doors. Josh was about to push on the doors, but something was niggling Liam. He was unsure about going any further; grabbing Josh's arm.

"Did ya hear that?" Liam asked, looking around.

"Na, it's nothin'. Old buildings mack noises - c'mon"

That would be the last time that either of the two chavs would subconsciously assess the risks they may possibly face going further into the building.

Josh pushed on one of the doors. The squeaking noise made by the door opening suggested no one had used them in a long, long time.

The doorway opened up to a long corridor. Light emanated through opaque glass windows, many cracked and broken on one side of the corridor. On the other side there were rooms, which has clearly been used as in the past as offices. Most were just empty shells; the fixtures and fittings having been removed long ago.

As the two lads continued walking down the corridor they were so preoccupied by the thoughts of finding something valuable they could purloin that they didn't notice two wheelchairs left to one side. If they had been more observant they might have wondered why there were relatively new wheelchairs in an abandoned factory.

Liam and Josh carried on walking, passing more empty rooms and another wheelchair. Eventually they came to the end of the corridor where there was one, solid door. Unlike the others they'd passed by this door was padlocked. It also looked as though it had been recently fitted. The two older teens were eager to make their exploration of the derelict building worthwhile financially, so there was no way they wouldn't try break through the door.

Liam raised an eyebrow at Josh, who grinned in agreement. The crowbar made quick work of the padlock, and the door swung open, revealing a surprisingly bright, modern room filled with computer equipment. The room appeared unoccupied, but in the background was the sound of technology. All the screens were active; filled with row upon row of green text. There were two huge screens on one of the walls.

Josh was looking around the room; figuring out what they could easily pilfer and get the most money for. What caught Liam's attention was the dozen or so circular platforms in the middle of the room.

Josh tapped Liam's shoulder, "Look at these bruv," he said pointing to the middle of the room. Liam turned around looked to where Josh was pointing.

"What the..." Liam didn't finish the sentence before Josh interrupted.

"What the f*** is this like place?"

"You tell me bruv."

Intrigued by the peculiar sight, Liam and Josh couldn't resist walking over to the platforms, their chav bravado overcoming any sense of fear. The two chavs stood on the platforms, smirking at one another.

Until now they'd not noticed the body-sized, circular perspex tubes retracted above their heads. Just then they heard a motor start up above their heads.

Looking up, "look out," Liam shouted, but it was too late.

In a split second, the tubes above their heads dropped to the floor, enclosing the two scallies inside. Panic set in as they screamed for help, finally realising the gravity of their situation.

Josh and Liam's screams echoed through the room as the perspex tubes trapped the chavs on the platforms below. A weird mist began to seep into the tubes, swirling around the panicking duo. Initially resistant, the mist began to work its magic.

Josh and Liam's screams softened to muffled protests, and eventually, their once defiant voices fell into an eerie silence. The spine-chilling mist continued its work, transforming the rowdy chav friends into docile and compliant figures. As the eerie mist continued to swirl around the tubes, their eyes glazed over. After a few minutes the two chavs fell unconscious, succumbing to the mysterious effects of the mist - their fate unknown to them.,

Once it was confirmed that Josh and Liam were knocked out, the tubes retracted into the ceiling, leaving the room eerily quiet. Just as the last traces of the mist dissipated, the door creaked open, revealing two imposing figures in their early thirties. Tough and athletic, they entered the room pushing empty wheelchairs. The same ones that Josh and Liam had ignored as they walked along the the corridor not long ago.

Without a word, the mysterious pair approached Josh first, effortlessly lifting his limp form and placing him into the first wheelchair. The same process followed for Liam, their actions efficient and practiced. The once unruly chavs now sat, unconscious and passive, in the wheelchairs.

The two males wheeled Josh and Liam into an adjacent room, where a dim light revealed an array of sophisticated equipment. They positioned the wheelchairs in a calculated manner, whilst the transformative effects of the mist maintained its hold on their bodies and minds.

Whilst two chavs were unconscious, one of the males retrieved a pair of clippers. To finalise the process the two friends would go through they needed their heads shaving, and this was to be done before they came round.

Minutes passed, and gradually, the chavs began to stir. Their eyes blinked open, confusion replacing the previous chaos. Yet, as Josh and Liam looked around, their mannerisms had been already changed irrevocably. The aggressiveness and defiance that once defined them had been replaced with a newfound obedience and compliance.

Josh and Liam sat in their wheelchairs, their once-rebellious spirits now subdued. They looked at each other and then took-in their surroundings. The room was sterile, and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead added an eerie ambiance to the atmosphere. The two chavs awaited their fate.

Two shaved-headed males in green scrubs entered the room. They walked over to where Josh and Liam were sitting in the wheelchairs. They released the wheel brakes and pushed the two lads towards a pair of hospital beds. Without a word, they efficiently transferred Josh and Liam onto the beds and gently made them lay back. The once-rebellious duo stared blankly ahead, their eyes devoid of the spark that once characterised them.

The mysterious figures produced a pair of helmets from a nearby table. The helmets had curved face covering visors and were equipped with an array of wires and sensors. The men is scrubs carefully placed the helmets over the heads of the two chavs.

Left alone in the room, Josh and Liam lay motionless as the helmets began their work. Unseen forces rewrote their minds, further erasing traces of defiance and moulding them into compliant, obedient beings. The room remained silent, save for the faint hum of the equipment that orchestrated the transformation.

Once the process was complete, the two shaved-headed males returned to the room. The chavs' minds were now blank slates, ready for the next phase of their transformation.

They replaced the iconic chav tracksuits with sleek black skinsuits. The transformation was both symbolic and practical, signalling the departure from their previous identities. The once distinctive and brash street-wear was replaced with a uniformity that mirrored their new, compliant state.

With the skinsuits in place, the helmets were refitted once more, this time for further programming.

The room buzzed with unseen energy as the final touches were applied. The chavs' once-chaotic personalities were long gone. All that remained were compliant shells, devoid of all human emotion; ready to embrace a new purpose.

In a room filled with monitors, the shaved-headed males observed their work with a satisfied nod. They watched Josh and Liam laid on hospital beds, their minds blank and their bodies clad in black skinsuits.

The door opened and two technicians entered the observation room. It was time. The moment had come to usher the former chavs into the next phase of their transformation.

The compliant duo was wheeled into an adjacent room, where a series of machines resembling MRI scanners awaited them. However, these were not ordinary medical devices. Instead, they were machines designed to augment the human body, turning ordinary individuals into hybrid human-cyborgs.

The technicians meticulously positioned Josh and Liam in front of the metallic chambers, securing them in place. Over a three hour period, the two young males would go through a series of transformations, the first of which would prepare their bodies for the synthetic augmentations to come.

The low hum of the machines echoed through the room as the transformation began. The beds were pulled backwards into the MRI-like machines.

Once inside the first stage of the process began. Metal plates descended from the tubes, fitting onto various parts of the chavs' bodies with precision. Once this was complete, circuitry was added connecting the various metal plates. What couldn't be seen to the casual observer was that under the metal plating, a synthetic bonding was taking place. A bonding that permeated through the skinsuit and into the human flesh.

One by one, an artificial, mechanical limb replaced one of their natural ones. The flesh coloured arms and legs were now adorned with sleek, metallic enhancements, making them stronger and more resilient. The technicians worked with practiced efficiency, their gloved hands expertly activating the cybernetic upgrades.

Next came the ocular implants. The machines were programmed to approach installation of the eye replacements with precision. An implement descended from inside the machine, carefully removing one human eye from each chav and replacing it with the advanced technology. The blue glow emanating from the ocular implants signalled the integration of their new cybernetic enhancements.

As the machines continued their work, the once-defiant chavs had now been transformed into hybrid human-cyborgs, their bodies now a fusion of the biological and the synthetic. That said, other tha their heads, observers might struggle to find any visible evidence of the humans that were Josh and Liam - so much of their bodies now covered in metal.

The technicians stepped back, admiring their creation as the final adjustments were made.

The door to the room opened once more, revealing a figure cloaked in shadow – the former chavs' new master had arrived. With a wave of their hand, the technicians and shaved-headed figures in scrubs retreated, leaving Josh and Liam standing motionless, now fully augmented and awaiting the programming that would dictate their new purpose.

The master approached; a sinister figure with pale white flesh. dark veins and gas mask with eerie blue lenses that looked like it had absorbed into his face. The room hummed with anticipation as the final step of the transformation unfolded. The once-chavs, now hybrid human-cyborgs, were ready to serve their mysterious master. The machines had worked their magic, creating two obedient, formidable entities ready to carry out the bidding of their creator.

The enigmatic figure, shrouded in darkness, stepped forward and issued their first command to the newly transformed duo. "[Hiss] Josh, Liam, [Hiss] your first task is [Hiss] to bring others to me. You will bring [Hiss] your former friends to me. They, too, [Hiss] shall undergo the transformation [Hiss] and join your ranks as cyborgs [Hiss]."

Obediently, the two cyborgs nodded in unison, their blue ocular implants began glowing with a cold intensity. With a calculated efficiency, they left the room, their enhanced limbs moving with a precision that betrayed their former chav recklessness.

Before the cyborgs that were once Josh and Liam exited the disused factory, which was now serving a darker purpose, they donned a Nike Hoodie and skinny trackie pants - so they could blend in. The two friends roamed the streets, scanning the corners and alleys for their former comrades. Their new master's command echoed in their minds, drowning out any remnants of their past lives.

Finally, Josh and Liam located the group. The chavs, unaware of the transformation that awaited them, gathered in their usual haunt. The familiar faces turned to greet their once brethren. Expecting to see Josh and Liam, instead they saw the cold, unyielding gazes of the hybrid human-cyborgs.

[mx-jinxous]

He was in love with a dead man.

Steve found it ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. When he was forced to find a job after his parents disowned him, the museum was the last place he’d expected to fall in love. The museum gift shop had gladly taken him in as a thank you for his family’s namesake, though Steve didn’t try to pretend interested in the way. He took the job offer, anything to pay the bills.

His current living arrangement was his car until he could save enough money back to get an apartment. Sadly with his car payment and insurance, it hardly left anything to put back, not enough to pay his phone bill for the last few months. Most days it was a toss-up for gas or food, which was going to be a harder decision with the approaching winter. Since he had to drop out of college he’d been left sneaking into the community pool to even get a shower, but soon he’d have to find other options. They started to dwindle as his friends, or rather the people who acted as such, distanced themselves when he was kicked out. He came from money and that’s all that anyone ever wanted.

His first idea was to befriend or date, but he couldn’t use them as people did to him. So he asked for more work, playing it off as expanding his knowledge and role. This led him to partner with the elderly security, who was fondly nicknamed Grey, until they could get him a trainee. Steve happily accepted it. The old man was a storyteller, even his lectures were entertaining as he drifted into stories of his kids. He often let him wander around, and that’s how he found the newest addition to the royalty wing.

They had discovered an underground burial vault, hidden beneath the remains of a castle converted into a long abandoned church. It was above Steve’s pay grade how they ever managed to acquire permission to excavate the vault. One night on his explorations the young man found the exhibit and the statue of King Kas. He ruled in the 1200 c.e., a just ruler in a conflicted era. Sadly, he existed during a blip in history, and few records have been found of his rule.

Still, the statue was handsome and mesmerizing. It was carved from marble and well cared for regardless of facing time. Surprisingly for a cold material, the eyes were warm, inviting even. It’s what kept Steve returning, making him fall. Grey had found him sometimes just talking to Kas about his problems when he came to let him out for the night. He was kind enough to offer an invite to his home whenever he needed, fatherly. He’s what he’d wished his parents were like, he cared for a boy he didn’t even know and even fed him when he didn’t have food. It was nice but also painful.

Steve spent every shift studying the statue. The king was adorned in jewelry; rings, a crown, necklaces, armlets, and bracelets filled with gemstones worth more than Steve’s parents. It only enhanced the beauty of the masterpiece, but it was truly the eyes that pulled him in. Maybe it was the dry spell in his current living situation, but he wanted to reach out and hold his face in his hands. His body was doing that on its own accord, his fingers nearly brushing its cheek when the hallway door was thrown open. Steve responded immediately, hiding behind the nearest pillar. His mind caught up with him once he was out of sight, that he and Grey were the only ones this late, still didn’t want to be caught with his hand on the exhibit.

Taking a calming breath, he stepped out and was going to give him a hard time about the scare. However, he froze when he heard more than one voice, harsh whispers echoing in the unoccupied room. Steve pressed up against the pillar, trying to be silent, trying to figure out how to alert Grey without his walkie.

So he stood there, listening to things being moved, metal clinging. “This is a goldmine. Can’t believe these idiots left it open like this, just ripe for the takin’.” A man cackled, the young man risking it to get a look at the thieves. Three of them, one stripping Kas while the other two robbed his riches.

“Shuddup. You want security up our asses?” Another snapped.

“What? That old guy probably ain’t got his hearing aid in.”

“He ain't alone dipshit. He's got that kid in here. Didn’t see him leave.” The last guy grumbled, sounding like he was struggling. “He’s not gonna be a problem. If he tries anything, I’ll show him mister pew pew.” That got Steve sweating. He needed a plan, a distraction to escape. From his vantage point, he noted the doors were close to the men, there were no windows, and the fire escape was a sprint away that gave the thieves an open shot. But the fire alarm was on the wall, parallel to him. Pulling it would alert firefighters and police, and hopefully scare the men enough to give him the opening that he needed. It was as solid as a plan he could make, but of course, he should know that life loved to make him struggle.

It came in the form of a, “Pull harder numb nuts.”, followed by a clatter. Peaking out he was met with the king's bracelet skidding past him. That’s what gave away his safe spot, the men already yelling and sprinting towards him. Steve took off, snatching the bracelet on the way to the fire alarm. He pulled it as he passed, heading towards the nearest exhibit, Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt. There were plenty of places to hide, Steve choosing the curtain that framed a standing sarcophagus.

It was sheered, easy to see through, yet nearly impossible to see in the dark museum. He gripped the bracelet, trying to quiet his breathing when the men came into the room. The alarm lights flashed and blared, however, he could hear things being thrown and smashed. There was angry yelling between the three, Steve watching the best he could through the fabric. He could make out only their silhouettes, watching in horror as they destroyed parts of history, feeling powerless. Was this how it was supposed to end, hunted and afraid? A fitting end to the last shitty months.

All he knows is that he isn’t going down without a fight. The bracelet was a decent weight and could knock someone out with a strong enough swing. He hoped it was enough as the silhouettes grew closer as Steve braced for an attack.

A scream froze the moment, now four shadows appeared on the other side of the curtain. “What the hell!” The man closest to the newcomer howled before he fell, his partner's screams echoing. Gunshots rang out causing a horrified scream to escape the young man. He fell to his knees and curled up, wanting to be as small as he could. Steve couldn’t fathom, nor did he want to attempt, the horrifying noises on the other side. There were screams and then silence.

He could only hope that the perpetrator didn’t find him- but once again life loved to beat him down. The curtain was pulled back, giving him an up-close view of the mystery man. Steve met with those warm eyes that once brought him comfort, now a sign of terror as Kas stood, marble painted in blood. He wanted to beg, to scream, but all that escaped his lips was a whimper. The statue took a step forward and the younger man fell back, trying to push himself as far away from the creature.

Not taking the hint, Kas knelt in front of him, reaching out toward him. He dropped his sword as fingers brushed against Steve’s cheek, causing him to flinch at the cold stone. It was silent between the two, aside from the blaring alarm, leaving them staring at one another. Pulling back his hand, Kas scooped the young man up without warning. A squeak escaped him, fear keeping his mouth bound as he was carried through the blood-drenched room to the king's exhibit. There he was gently sitting on the edge of the stone coffin that had been cracked open to show the interior. The body had been removed before the exhibit had opened so there was no fear of a zombie popping up. Just Steve and Stone Kas.

Steve was balancing himself the best he could while stone eyes studied up and down his body. They stopped on the bracelet still gripped in his hands, causing him to fumble trying to hold it up to the marble man.

“H-Here! I-I didn’t mean to take it, but I kept it safe. See, no damage.” He shook as the statue took the bracelet, examining it closely. Steve sat there, just waiting until Kas saw fit that the bracelet was fine. He hesitated with any noise or movement, not wanting to earn the creature's ire. He wished to disappear, to be locked behind his car doors on the other side of the country, just out of the king's sight.

Unfortunately, that wish quickly broke when Kas wrapped his hand gently around Steve’s upper arm. He watched in horror and confusion as the bracelet slid onto his wrist, giving the man his first clear look at the jewelry. It was a thick gold band with some basic designs carved in it, a bright red gem enclosed in it. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, even Kas seemed to think so as a smile came to the carved face.

“Yeah, i-it’s a lovely piece, but sadly I’m not a jewelry guy.” His nervous chuckle was cut short when the smile fell, his body tensing as it was just them in silence once more. “Please-.” He whimpered.

A sob broke free when Kas leaned in, his cold lips pressing into his forehead. “Te videre iterum, amore mea.” He whispered, pulling back enough to peer down into Steve’s eyes. Without warning he was shoved back into the coffin, the lid pulled over without a struggle.

“Shit.” He mumbled, trying to push the stone lid off to no avail. “Shit! No, no, shit!” He screamed, pounding against the marble. Panicked tears dripped down his cheeks as he kept trying to push to top off. “I- I ca-. I can’t breathe! Please let me out! Please Kas!”

There was no telling how long he was screaming for, but no one came to his rescue. The fight left him abruptly as the situation set in. He was stuck in a stone prison, running out of air, no one knowing where he went. No one would notice him missing until much later after he suffocated. This was how he was going to die, as a nobody.

Steve went to cover his face, only to be splashed with water. He sat there, horrified at the thought that he was bleeding, but no. His body was sitting in water, the coffin filling at a ridiculous rate. He no longer had to wait to suffocate, now he was going to drown long before that.

A new panicked fueled fire filled his stomach, his legs coming up to kick at the lid. He figured if water was getting in, there was a chance he wasn’t completely sealed in. His head was underwater while he kicked with all his might. Soon it started sliding with each kick, giving way to enough space for his body to squeeze through. He wasted no time, the water weighing him down as he pulled himself free.

It was dark aside from a flickering archway, his body freezing as he took a minute to catch his breath. He could tell he was no longer in the museum, the only light seeming to be the only exit. A groan escaped Steve’s lips as he pulled himself towards the light, coming to a spiral staircase that only went up. It was illuminated by torches on the wall, the only warmth in this dark room. Freedom was near, and though his body wanted to give in to rest, Steve pressed on. His body ached, each step taken with a struggling limp that made the trip feel like hours.

He nearly cried when he saw the doorway, a light illuminating the stairs. He was ready for bed, or maybe he’d try to hit Grey up for a shower to get all the death dust off of him. If he was lucky, this was all a horny-induced nightmare.

That came to head when the universe decided to remind him once more of his shit luck. When he walked out of the doorway he was greeted with a group of swords pointed at him, surrounding him. His body was aching, fighting to stay standing as another wave of armored people came in. Trying to take a step back Steve’s body gave out, a mumbled “Fucking bullshit.”, escaping before he hit the ground. His world went dark once more.

________________

If you want to be tagged in the future, comment below.

Chapter 1| Chapter 2

[buckyshoneybunny]

The White Wolf (Part 1)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader  

W.C.- 2111 

Summary- Upon exploring the mysterious forest, you come across something you thought only existed in books. 

Warnings- None really. 

A/N- After a lot of contemplating I decided to turn this into a series. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to get another part out until the end of next week, hopefully 🤞. I haven’t decided how many parts yet tho. Anyway, thank you so much for the response on my last post, I could literally cry. I’m going to try and work on doing a masterlist, if anyone has any requests or story ideas I’d gladly take them. I hope you enjoy! Will be a slow burn.

Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Masterlist Series Masterlist

They say, that if anyone could marry an animal, that you’d be the first person to do it. That’s the only way to describe your love for animals. You loved animals with everything in you, you loved volunteering at animal hospitals and shelters, helping injured animals, but most of all, you loved capturing the beauty of animals with nature. Not necessarily studying them, but observing. Watching wildlife, and capturing the beauty of nature paired with the animals you loved, that was what you lived for. 

Which is how you ended up here. New York City seemed to have lost its touch with nature and the animals around, so you decided to adventure out in the few forests they have left to capture the beautiful world of nature and prove to everyone that it’s worth salvaging what’s left. There was one forest in particular that caught your attention, thick trees with no way to get through but the path that led through them, the morning dew that settled over the trees, it screamed mysterious and begged to be explored.  

When you told some of the locals your plan, they warned you not to go there, said dangerous creature lurked in that forest. They said that lots of tourist would go walking there, but few returned. That only fueled your determination to explore the mysterious forest.  

So, bright and early Saturday morning you packed up your camera and some supplies, threw on a pair of blue jeans and a white tank top, a winter coat over top that to strive off the cold fall air. Shoved on your combat boots and grabbed a knife your dad gave you for protection and headed out the door.  

You were a little bummed when, a mile in, nothing had changed, thick trees and brush surrounded you. But you keep going, determined to find something. Your determination paid off. 

About another half a mile, give or take, you came across the most beautiful scene you had ever seen. It was a clearing in the trees, the land was flat with a big gorgeous clear blue lake. The early morning sun shone through the trees, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The soft, green grass covered in a layer of moister, flowers littered throughout the field. But what caught your attention was the somewhat big, beautifully white wolf lent over lapping at the sparkling water.  

I thought all wolves were extirpated from New York? You quickly and quietly hide behind a tree and whipped out your camera. You snap a couple of pictures of the wolf, you put the camera away and look for a way around the field, not wanting to alert the wolf of your presence. As you back away from the tree, you step on a twig, the sound reverberates through the forest. 

The wolf’s head snaps up, gaze locking on your figure. You freeze in fear and captivity from its sparkling steel blue eyes. The wolf slowly stands up, revealing he’s bigger than what you first thought. He sniffs the air and growls. 

Now, throughout your life, your father always told you to remain still and calm when presented in a situation like this. He said animals can sense fear, chances are though that they’re more afraid of you. Don’t let them sense you’re afraid, if they can sense you aren’t a threat they’ll most likely leave and you can get the hell out of there. When have you ever listened to his advice? That’s the only explanation as to why you ran. 

You spin around and take off, willing your feet to run faster once you hear his howl and rustling behind you. Logistically you knew you didn’t stand a chance out running a wolf, but you hoped to god he’d lose interest quickly and leave you to run away in fear. You’d never like hurting animals but when the sounds of heavy paws hitting the ground got closer you grabbed the knife that was strapped to your side. 

The wolf quickly catches up and knocks you to the ground, growling. Before he can rip your head off, you cut down the side of his back leg, not to kill him but to get him to back off. The wolf yelps and scurries off of you. You take off running again but trip over a root, you fall to the ground, hitting your head on another root, knocking yourself out. 

When you come too, you’re lying on the floor of what looks like a small cabin. The main area, where you are, is a small neat kitchen and a living room joined together. There’s a table in the corner by the kitchen, a couch, rug, and small coffee table in front of a fireplace that’s currently burning with wood. You lay between the table and fireplace on the rug, a fleece throw covering you. Your bag is, what looks like tossed on the couch. You quickly crawl over to it, sighing in relief to find your camera undamaged.  

Your head is pounding, you reach back to scratch your back to find teeth holes in your shirt. Your ass and backs of your legs brown with dirt, looking like you were dragged. You freeze when you hear a whine. You look over to see small hallway that what looks like it leads to a bathroom on the right, and a small bedroom across from it, there's a door at the very end, looks like a linen closet.  

You slowly and quietly stand up, you carefully toe off your boots, hoping your sock covered feet won’t make much noise. You grab the fireplace poker as a weapon and follow the noise. When you reach the bedroom, the door cracked, you find the wolf curled on a large dog bed in the corner, furiously licking the wound on his leg, the one you gave it. 

You take a deep breath and push the door open. The wolf growls as soon as he sees you, he tries to stand up but whines and falls back down. You gently set your makeshift weapon down and turn to the bathroom. You rummage through the cabinets and drawers to find what you’re looking for. 

Walking back into the bedroom, you slowly make your way to the wolf, he growls and buries himself more in the corner. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “I just want to help.” You gesture to his leg, you set the supplies down and cautiously stick your hand out for him to sniff.  

Once he assures you aren’t here to hurt him, but to help him, he lays his head down and watches you from the corner of his eye. Once settled beside him, you dip a washcloth in warm water and gently clean his wound. He whines and jerks his leg. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Let me fix what I caused,” you say softly. Once you finish cleaning the wound, you wrap it in gauze.  

“There, all better,” you cautiously reach out to pet his fur. He lets you; you reach up to scratch behind his ears, he closes his eyes and nuzzles your hand. 

You giggle. “You aren’t so bad, huh?” He just lays his head in your lap. You look over at the nightstand to see a picture of two tall, muscular men. One with shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes, and a metal arm. Huh. You think as you look at the metal arm, the other guy has blonde hair, blue eyes- not a sparkly as the other guy’s is- he doesn’t have a metal arm like his friend. 

You pick up the picture. “Is one of these your... owner? Did they find me?” You question the wolf, knowing he probably doesn’t even understand you much less can answer your question. The wolf opens his eyes, he looks to the picture then back to you, giving you almost a deadpanned look.  

Just then the sound of the front door opening and closing, and the sound of feet padding through the cabin, fill the silence. 

“Hey, Buck! I just wanted to check in and se-what the hell?” The blonde man from the picture stops short when he sees you, his eyes widened.  

“Uh, hi,” you give him a shy smile. 

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in here?” He asks, almost harshly.  

“I’m Y/N. I was exploring the forest when I... I had seen him. Needless to say, he chases me, I cut his back leg, I fell and hit my head. I woke up here and helped patch up his wound. That’s the short version. I’m guessing the other man lives here? Is this his... pet?” You gesture to the picture on the nightstand. 

The man snorts. “Yes, the other man lives here, I’m Steve and the other man is James but everyone calls him Bucky.” 

“How do you get Bucky from James?” 

“His middle name is Buchanan” 

You hum in understanding. “Will this Bucky be back soon? I’d like to apologize for hurting his wolf” 

Steve grins in amusement. “You’re petting him right now.” 

“Huh?” You look down at the wolf still nuzzling your hand.  

Steve snickers and leans down next to you; he reaches over to pet Bucky but he growls in warning. Steve puts his hands up in surrender and chuckles. “The towns people didn’t tell you about our kind?” 

“Your kind?” You look at him, confused. 

“We are a wolf/human kind, we shift to our wolf form during full moon. Bucky here is the alpha.”  

“What?! Are you jok-this is a joke, right?” You ask in disbelief. You go to stand up but Bucky whines and puts his front half on you, nuzzling into your stomach. 

Steve chuckles. “Somebody likes you.”  

“So, you’re telling me that the whole, alpha, omega, beta crap exists?” He nods, you go quiet, not knowing what to say. 

Steve spends the next couple of hours explaining everything to you. From the pack, to why he isn’t in his wolf form, once you have a mate you can shift whenever you like but they still have ruts/heats after the full moon. Steve left with the request of watching over Bucky, you agreed, and that he’d be back in a few days. He also said to be careful, once full moon is over and Bucky shifts back, he’d go into rut. 

You stay on the floor for a while, Bucky still half on you and asleep. When he does wake up, he sits up and start to rip the bandage off.  

“Bucky wait-it's not done healing,” you go to stop him but he gets it fully off, showing that the wound is healed. “What the..?” You whisper, tracing the area the wound was at.  

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” You giggle. He sticks his tongue out and pulls his lips back, almost like a smile. 

He pauses and sniffs the air, he tilts his head, you giggle. He leans towards you, sniffing. He all but shoves his cold, wet nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. You yelp and giggle, trying and failing to push him away.  

“Bucky!” You laugh. He licks up your neck and you laugh harder. He nuzzles his head into your chest.  

“You’re a goofball. Listen, I have to go out and grab my stuff from my hotel if I’m gonna stay here for the next couple of days, okay?” His head pops up, ears flat and whines. “Awe,” you coo and scratch behind his ears. “I’ll be back, I promise. Wanna walk me to the edge of the woods?” He jumps up and runs to the door.  

You leave the bag you brought and head out, once off the mini porch Bucky stops, he motions to his back.  

“You want me to get on your back?” You ask in a slight condescending tone. He was huge, on all four legs he was just past your waist, but you weren’t skinny and you’d worry you might hurt him.  

He nods. “Won’t I crush you?” He rolls his eyes and waits. You sigh, giving in you straddle his back, legs wrapped around him just in front of his back legs, arms around his neck. Once you’re settled, he takes off, your grip tightens.  

Once you get almost to the edge of the woods he stops and lets you off.  

“You’ll wait for me?” He nods and lays in the brush out of sight.  

You head off to your hotel, grabbing your stuff and checking out. You get back to the woods, “Bucky!” You call out. Nothing. You walk a little further, where he had been laying was a pool of blood. 

Bucky!  

[arcanesea]

give up

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader GENRE: hurt-comfort, burned-out gifted kid WC: 501 WARNING: reader is heavily demotivated, violent self-thoughts

"What if I just give up?" You ask nonchalantly. The book in your hands long forgotten because you can't get a single word into your head.

"That doesn't sound like you at all, though," Wonwoo commented, earning a sigh from you.

"What am I like?" you ask him then. Slipping your thumb to the page you last read, holding it in one hand. You look up to him, waiting for his response.

"I don't know, darling. What do you want to be like?" he asks back. He places his hand on your cheek, caressing it with such tenderness that makes you want to ramble all day and night to him. "You know I'm here if you want to talk, right?"

You know. Hell, he's the reason why you have the courage to explore your emotions, navigating the bubbling joy and boiling rage you experience day by day. He's always careful with his words. He knows all the right things to say at the right time.

"I don't know," you sighed again, sitting down now. What do you want to be like? Has your academic achievement been enough? Moreover, is it worth all the sleepless nights, and nauseating afternoons you had to embrace in order to get those striking A's? Or is it finally taking its toll on you when you're one step from graduating? Perfectionism like a barbed wire, tight around your throat.

Wonwoo take your hand in his. He knows everything. About the way you read everything but understand nothing at the same time, about your frustration of building a flawless method for your research, about your restless consultation. He's always ready to lend a hand if you need one, but most of the time, you only require his shoulder to cry on.

"Want to know what I think?" he asks you, tracing circles on the back of your hand. You nodded, tears are threatening to spill if you ever did as much as blink. "I think you did great so far."

You open your mouth to protest but fall back to silence. Nothing works on you anymore, you wish his word would change that.

"I also think that it's okay if you haven't figured it out yet, after all, it's a tough process. I would tell you that everyone has their own timing, but you also need to know that you don't have forever. For this one specific thing, you don't have forever. If you want to try other stuff, if you want to know what you truly love doing in life, you don't have forever to figure this one out."

And you hate how much he's right about that. You can't juggle everything in one timeline or you'll burst into flames, consumed by your own greed for achievements.

Wonwoo called your name, swiping a tear that finally escaped.

"But I hope it eases you to know that I will spend my forever walking beside you, holding your hand. You don't have to figure it all out by yourself."

a/n. this is very much self-insert idk what else to tell you bcs i be doing everything except my thesis:)

[utopya-cc]

Preview) Passionate Gifts| Functinal Designer Bag

Hi everyone. I hope you are all doing well! I have some exciting things to share and show you🤩!

✨This is one of the most exciting updates that I have made. There is more to it than what you saw in the preview video. The video covers just the animation; there are a lot of other features!

Basically, the update will have a whole new mod! So please Try to read the full post. Don't skip to the download page; there are some important things to know before Downloading it and using it,

The New Animation:

Let's start with the animations. This interaction has multiple animations that they may play each time you perform it. (just some small cute variation to the main animation)

One major new thing with this interaction is that it's staring from the back. Your sims will come from the back to give the gifts.

The Pros are: I think it looks great, I think coming from the back adds to The intimacy and surprise element of giving gifts, But the Cons are the game interactions are all face to face, so doing it like this isn't the best and the smoothest way to do it,

The New Designer Bag Gift:

The Designer Bag will cost your sim $1500 Simoleons ( I think it's well worth it; more on it later in this post!). The new interaction is located in the passionate gift pie menu under the romance category, with its own Custom Icons.

There are 12 in total swatches/brands that you can get. I will show you some of them now and let you explore the others.

I first planned to make it into a one-box gift, and then you can change the swatch by build buy, but it was a little bit inconvenience for the gameplay, and I didn't like it that much,

So I had to push it a little bit further, and thankfully, I did manage to figure out how to add all of them (it was one of the main reasons that extended the release date),

So now, every time you give the gift, your sims may give and receive one of 12 different Designer Bags. Each bag has its own Package Box, and the gift will change depending on each swatch. So, basically, there are twelve new gifts in this update.

You can still change the swatch by build-buy, but I think it is more fun to let your sim choose. I have also added a small mechanic to lower the chance of giving Duplicate swatches if you already have that bag in your sim inventory.

(I just want to mention that I added a surprise animation when they see the prize tag! It's just a small detail that I thought it would look cute 👇) 

The Interaction Outcome:

After performing the interaction, your sim will receive the Designer Bag and its own custom Package Box. Also, your sim will receive some Buffs and moodlets for both the target and the actor,

As I said, each bag Has its own custom package box. You can sell it for 20§ or decorate your house with it. It can also work as a pedestal for your bag. I have added a slot to it so you can put stuff on it:

The Fully Functional Bag:

Now, let's start with some more exciting stuff. The bag is fully functional🤩! You can wear it and rename it. It is also live draggable, so you can live-drag it whenever you want, and it comes with its own inventory.

First of all, how do you wear it? You can easily do that from your sim inventory! Just click on it and click on (Wear). You can wear it with any outfit you like!!

It will be shown in the queued interaction on the left side of the running interactions. You can remove it by canceling the interaction.

While you are wearing it, you can't access the bag; you have to remove it first, and then you can access it or live drag it.

By wearing the bag, your sim will get a confident Buff.

Also, wearing the bag will slow the decay of some of your sim needs. My idea behind that is that wearing a bag makes youre sim more organized and less likely to get tired.The modifiers aren't that crazy; I think with them, it's just more fun to remember to wear it before going on a walk or to the coffee shop.

I have also added some buffs to other sims around you. For example, they may be amazed by seeing your sim wearing a Designer brand, and your partner may feel flirty if they see your sim wearing their gift.

The bag is Live draggable; you can drag it anywhere you want and open it. Each bag will have its own separate inventory, which can store almost anything and help organize your sim's inventory better.

The bag will be fully functional. I am planning on some existing features for it, and I will post some sneak peeks soon, so keep an eye out for that.

There are twelve Bags for your sim to have. I mean, I can imagine that Wealthy Sims will have at least two or three bags, so I have added the (add-to favorites options); you can do that while the bag is on your Sims inventory, so you can keep track of youre favorite used bag while carrying multiple ones for your different Outfits. And you can also rename them!

Of course, you can also collect all of them just to fill and decorate your Sims' closet. So, I have kept the option of buying it from Build Buy. Most of the bag's features will work, minus some gift-related ones.

To access the bag inventory, You have to place or live-drag it first; you can't open it from the inventory.

Showering or sleeping will remove the bag automatically. (I am blacklisting the interaction where youre sim removes the bag by hand, so if I have missed something, let me know)

The sim who receives the Designer Bag Gift Will automatically be the owner Of that Bag,

DOWNLOAD:

[chaliceofthescales-if]

Sector 7, or Schai, depending on who you are. An otherwise barren dry desert on which nothing grows with a busy bustling tourist city as its main focus. A city of indulgence, excess, and sin, the shiny glittering lights hide the dark truth behind the City of Wonders. Many will do anything to get out of the gutter and different groups often take advantage of that. So when two strange people approach you, offering a lifetime's worth of payment for protecting someone and going to find a special cup that may or may not actually exist, who are you to say no?

Chalice of the Scales is the first book in the Turnwheel of the Twelve Saga. It will be a shorter smaller game with the total amount of words read during each play through being about 40k, which is about the size of a novella or 80 pages front and back in a real book. It's inspired by different sources including Dungeons and Dragons and JRPGs/RPGs. The focus will be mostly on storytelling and adventure, but romance will also play a rather big part. While it leans more towards storytelling, there will be a decent amount of stat-based gameplay/mechanics as well.

You play as a Sector 7 Bodyguard for Hire. That means you're poor as dirt. You're approached by two mysterious hooded figures who offer to pay you a lifetime's worth of money in exchange for you to protect your Charge and find the Chalice of the Scales. You, obviously, accept thinking it's an easy job. Turns out, it's anything but. Now you have to create a group to set out and the Scales' Relic, which hasn't been seen in over 1000 years, while also trying to make sure no one dies.

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Fantasy Post-Apocalyptic

Rating: 18+

Tracked Tag: #chalice of the scales

Status: In Development (Writing)

Demo || Romance Options || FAQ || Ask Guidelines || Tag Navigation || World Lore || Current Anonymous Survey Form || The Full Saga || Dev's Main Blog ||

Create and customize your bodyguard for hire. Choose their gender, pronouns, appearance, and personality and more.

Protect your Charge and make sure he isn't killed or kidnapped by the assassins after him while trying to find the lost Relic.

Explore Sector 7 of Astelle, also called Schai. Traverse dry barren deserts, smog filled cities, and the Great Divide on your quest.

Do research and follow leads to find out where the Chalice is located. Fight back against Relic Hunters and other groups to safely deliver the Chalice to its Warden.

Romance any of your 6 companions: Merlion - Your Charge, Astor - The Guardian, Elise - The Cleric, Bran - The Relic Hunter, Korone - The Navigator, or Starling - The Assassin.

Build your relationships with others in the group and find out their stories. A good relationship with someone may unlock different choices during gameplay.

One final question... Where is the Warden?

Merlion Corwell (he/him) - Your Charge. Two mysterious hooded people paid you quite well in advance to protect him and find the Relic. A fairly easy job, in hindsight. Now if only he would stop wandering off and getting into trouble.

Astor Wryth (he/him) - The Guardian. A real-life Guardian, like from the legends. Structured and well-put together, he's very adept with his abilities as a Guardian, but is very out of touch with his Warden.

Elise Fairthing (she/her) - The Cleric. A sweet and energetic Cleric who decided to join you on your quest after you crash her trip. She possesses a decent amount of knowledge and history about the Twelve.

Bran Noire (they/them) - The Relic Hunter. A shoddy Relic Hunter who let themself get captured by you. Rather irksome and arrogant, they're bold, loud, brash, and are, unfortunately, a fantastic shot.

Korone Noire (they/them) - The Navigator. A stoic and Machiavellian Navigator who knows the land of Schai like the back of their hand. Despite being quiet and thoughtful, they are somehow related to Bran.

Starling Rhise (she/her) - The Assassin. A woman once your enemy, now your (reluctant) ally. Calm and intelligent, she possesses an adventurous spirit and a grudge that won't go away anytime soon.

[anystalker707]

Midnight sneak-outs

Pairing: Paul Atreides x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: You've just moved to Arrakis. Some distraction is nice, even if it involves your hidden relationship being discovered. Tags: he's very sweet / lots of kissing / hand job / this is not about 15yo Paul A/N: i've been writing less, sorry. i've been working out+working+studying, spending from 7am to 10pm out of the house, it's harsh

MASTER LIST

          The air of Arrakis was thick and dry, enough to make your nose burn and threaten to start bleeding if you were outdoors without protection during certain hours of the day. It was very different from Caladan, uncomfortably so. You missed the cold breezes, the hikes along the woods, sleeping while it rained outside. The fact there was no way to escape this made you feel a little claustrophobic, but you tried your best not to be unpleasant, since the Atreides weren’t even obligated to bring you in the first place, but they couldn’t deny Paul’s requests, after all. You had to see the good side of it—even if it was hard and practically impossible. Arrakis seemed to trap you among its sands, even more so with how the Emperor had articulated that; it was just a one-way trip.

On the other hand, Paul seemed quite excited about it. He showed you some tools gifted to him by Duncan, the books he had found around. It was an excitement you couldn’t mirror, though you didn’t want to bring him down with it, since he’d always been so obsessed over Arrakis, extremely fascinated with it.

Paul looked over his shoulder as he walked over to the trees outside, ensuring you followed. “They say each tree consumes the same amount of water as five men. There are twenty!” He widened his eyes briefly as he placed a hand on the tree’s trunk, turning around to face you, with his free hand behind his back.

You furrowed your eyebrows, silently observing the lines of trees through squinted eyes under the harsh sunlight. They seemed sacred, holy. Their apparent aging and disposition—plus how they seemed cared for—demonstrated they held great importance. You looked into the horizon, trying not to dwell too much on the fact there were no mountains surrounding you; no hills, no woods.

“They’re huge,” you said with a hum, squinting your eyes more while looking at the top of the one you two were next to. “Are we supposed to be out here at this time of the day?” The heat felt suffocating, and unlike the cold from Caladan, you could barely escape it.

Paul shrugged, also squinting his eyes, though he was under the tree’s shadow, so you moved and joined him. It didn’t make much of a difference, and inside was probably a lot better, but being with Paul there for a little longer wouldn’t hurt. It was worth it. His eyes followed you, and his hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together to pull you closer. Paul took your other hand as well while leaning back against the tree.

“Are you feeling okay? We can head back inside,” Paul said cautiously, squeezing your hands as his eyes roamed over your features, green irises scanning your face, a search for something you couldn’t identify. Maybe you didn’t want to.

“Weather,” you said with a hum, taking a deep breath, but it failed to calm you down or do anything that mattered. The air was hot, almost burning your airways as they filled your lungs.

Paul seemed convinced, but he still looked at you as if trying to see past the armor you’d built, though he didn’t pry a lot, respecting the distance you imposed. Shaking his head, he pulled you closer instead, close enough to let his forehead rest on your shoulder and press a couple of kisses to it through the fabric. The worry that Paul usually only carried silently was not a little more evident as he stood there with you, trying to figure out how to help without suffocating you even more.

“Let’s head back inside,” Paul said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “We can go for a walk during the night. I want to explore around for a little, so it’ll be great, right? I want your company.” He lifted his head and looked at you in the eyes. A smile tugged on his lips after you nodded, eventually disappearing when he pressed his lips to yours in a soft peck.

The brief contact had your heart skip a beat and gave you comfort, even if just a little bit, even if just for a fleeting moment, and calmed the turmoil inside Paul’s chest.

          Arrakis was colder at night, and the great temperature variance was already predictable, given the planet’s characteristics. Still, it wasn’t bad. It was comfortable and refreshing, and the fact you didn’t have to wear formal clothes during the night made it more enjoyable, giving you a welcome false sensation of freedom. In contrast, Paul’s hand was warm against your own as you two walked down the halls of Arrakeen in deadly silence.

Hesitant steps eventually gained confidence once you two walked a good distance from Paul’s room, loosening your grip on each other’s hands comfortably. A guard or another walked by, but none of them seemed to notice you and Paul merged with the shadows, walking down the wide halls of the place, or maybe they didn’t want to.

It was quiet, unlike during the day, and it made Arrakis feel better, for some reason. Paul seemed as excited as he was during the day, pointing out details of the architecture or leaning against windowsills to take a look outside, peeking at the night sky and muttering about it. It was sweet, really. You spent more time looking at his face than at what Paul pointed out, making a light red tone coat his cheeks whenever his gaze caught yours.

Paul sighed as he ran his fingers along the drawings sculpted into the wall, walking each time slower until he stopped walking. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” He looked at you again, a small smile lingering on his lips as he noticed how you paid attention to the wall as well.

“Yeah. Really catches your attention,” you muttered, meeting his eyes in the relative darkness and squeezing his hand.

Paul didn’t return his attention to the wall, instead holding your gaze. His hand tightened around yours in return, and it was practically a sign for you—a small sound escaped his lips as you stepped closer, compelling him to back up until his back met the wall. The corner where walls met was a discreet and darker spot in the hall where practically no one spared a look, so it would be even harder to be spotted there at such hours when the moons were high in the sky.

Paul’s breath fanned warmly against your skin as you leaned in, and you two just stood there in silence for a long moment, something between reaching a silent agreement with each other and checking if there was anyone nearby. From there, you didn’t need a lot of thought—your lips met Paul’s in a soft kiss, primarily tentative and gentle. His lips were warm and soft, just like you were used to, but something about kissing him in a hidden spot in the halls of Arrakeen felt different, compelling a new type of excitement to stir in the bottom of your stomach. Making out in a dark corner during such late hours of the night made everything better, the thrill and adrenaline that ran through your veins at the feeling of getting caught.

Your tongue ran along Paul’s bottom lip, snatching a soft sound from his lips, while his hand tightened around yours momentarily, hesitantly letting go so that his hand could hold on to your shoulder instead, to pull you closer to him. As Paul’s arms wrapped around your neck, he eventually melted into you, noticing your acceptance, his body tingling at the feeling of your arms firmly wrapped around his waist.

A soft sigh came from Paul the moment your tongue slipped past his lips to run along the back of his teeth and glide against his own, compelling his grip to grow tighter around you, with a new kind of urgency emerging at the deepening of the kiss, one you returned by pulling him closer and holding him tighter.  It could ruin your reputation, but it didn’t even matter now, not when you were lost in the way Paul kissed you, fingers gently caressing the back of your neck while his lips moved against yours in a perfect flow.

“Damn,” you whispered between kisses. Your attempt to catch your breath was disrupted by the continuous pecks that Paul kept pressing to your lips, arms tightening around your neck, so you ended up giving in and kissing once more, just enough to satisfy his need before your lips pressed to his jaw. Paul exhaled with a soft sound, arching his back to press more into you, groaning softly as he tilted his head to the side to give you more access to his neck and melted into your touch.

A sound echoed through the dark halls—a step? Door being closed? Weapon being adjusted? A shiver ran down your spine at the same time your blood drained to your feet, and Paul seemed to have the same reaction, both of you holding your breaths while standing as still as possible. It could be unimportant, just as much as it could be significant.

Your eyes met in the darkness, your breaths held in the deafening silence until your lungs burned, and you decided that if there were someone, they would’ve walked away. Or maybe that was just your brain convincing you to kiss Paul more, but did it really matter right now? The worries were slowly buried in the back of your head once your lips met his skin again, making his breath quiver. His arms slowly relaxed around your neck, and he was melting into your touches once again, whispering your name in a sweet and needy voice that made your heart flutter.

As much as you wanted to nibble and suck on Paul’s neck, it was a risk you didn’t want to take, even if most of his attires included turtle-neck shirts and vests. The young heir couldn’t be marked, couldn’t be touched, nothing that would ruin the Atreides’ reputation, and even so, he still indulged himself in a ‘hidden’ relationship with you, risking it all whenever proposing any sort of adventure that led you to situations like right now.

“I’m…” Paul’s breath hitched as his hands tugged on your shirt. A soft hum came from him as he shifted, managing to slip a leg between your own, allowing himself to grind against your thigh with a muffled moan. “Please,” he whispered, voice muffled by your shoulder as he pressed closer.

“No, we are—”

“Please…” Paul groaned. He buried his face in your neck, kissing a trail up to your lips, giving you a peck whenever you tried to argue against him. Who were you to resist that needy tone anyway? The way he made your heart flutter whenever giving you soft kisses, trying his best to convince you. A sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in again, taking Paul’s lips in another kiss, his bottom lip quickly caught between your teeth.

The thin fabric of Paul’s night pants was strained, tented up with the erection that ground against your thigh stubbornly until you gave his hips a harsher squeeze so that he would stay still—he did, with a whine. Among messy kisses, Paul moaned softly, trying to keep as quiet as possible while your hand slipped into his underwear and wrapped around his cock, warm and firm.

Part of you cursed Paul for having made you do that there, go all the way across the palace just to make out, but there was a different feeling to it, you couldn’t deny. Even if the chances were low, someone could still catch the two of you, and raise a scandal. Just the fact you could get caught by someone who didn’t know about your relationship, in general, made your heart race, something stirring in your lower stomach as your teeth sank harder into Paul’s lip. He whimpered, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling that sparkled up his spine when your hand started moving around his cock.

Of course, it wasn’t the best thing in the world. It was a little stiff, but eventually better once your thumb ran across his tip, using the droplets of pre-cum to ease the friction, even if it didn’t do much.

“You’re dirty, Paul,” you whispered into his ear, squeezing his cock as you pumped him, trying to contain every involuntary thrust of his by pinning him against the wall with your free hand by the hip. His hands clung to your shoulders, most likely leaving scratches behind, despite the shirt in the way. “Does it feel good? Hm? Tell me?”

A soft whimper came from Paul in response, just at the same time his hips thrust into your hand. “Yes,” Paul groaned, voice strained as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder. His attempts to keep quiet result in choked gasps and shaky breaths, but it doesn’t stop the occasional moans from escaping his lips, quiet and needy, sending sparkles down your spine. “Feels so good,” he mumbled in a shaky voice; his cock twitched in your hand, leaking more.

You knew where to touch already, the pace that made Paul quiver and had his knees go weak, so all you did was to measure well how to use that, with slow movements and grazing your thumb against a spot under the tip of his cock until he could barely hold himself together while clinging to you.

Paul mumbled something that sounded like your name, incoherent, muffled against your shoulder, which was already damp from how he pressed his mouth to it to muffle his sounds—or at least try to. It was already growing sloppy with the amount of pre-cum that dripped onto your hand, and Paul was practically doing the whole job by himself already, fucking your hand while chasing his own release. You couldn’t deny the way it made you feel, the way you swallowed dryly whilst feeling him against you, but you were already going too far by now anyway. Maybe you could do more when you headed back to his room.

“Nngh, I can’t—” Paul gasped before his cock twitched more, and there it was—he came with a soft cry, quickly limiting himself to a hiss as his nails sank into your skin through your shirt. “Fuck,” he groaned, trying to keep quiet and hold his breath while riding through his orgasm, and he finally did so, with a soft whimper. His chest heaved up and down to catch his breath, fingers slowly loosening around your shirt, and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze, blinking a couple of times. “You’re way too good,” he mumbled with a soft groan, pressing a soft peck to your lips.

“Oh?” You chuckled, pulling your hand away, and Paul quickly took care of adjusting his clothes again. “I’m not the one who suggested this, in the first place.” You glared lightly at him, and Paul shook his head in exaggerated frustration that immediately changed into a different expression when you started licking his cum away from your hand, humming faintly. “What?”

“Y’know—”

“Chambers. Now.”