#you’ll get used to it and i'll kill him right after. What do you mean you've changed your mind now?

[ksuhi13]

in Merlin, arthur was literally born through magic, that is, his birth was so beyond the natural and was such a great stroke of luck that in the end the universe decided to restore balance and made him one of the most unlucky people. seriously, every other character on the show tried to kill this boy, not to mention the betrayals, constant knockouts and all the stupid ridiculous situations. he would have cosplayed as a kebab in the first episode, so the wild universe sighed, “okay, i’ll make him the only and future king, but so that he doesn’t screw up, let this powerful man, magic itself or whatever take care of his ass. yes, i’m literally i mean, you have to button up his shirt and at the same time decide something with this crowd of mercenaries under the window. no, he can’t do it himself, his karma is expired, beaten and showered with fruit. sorry, bro, you’ll have to do it yourself.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 2

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.3

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, degradation, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, fleshlights, beomgyu being a perv and using oc's panties

You step into the apartment, hoping against hope that you won’t find Beomgyu in there. It’s been a few days since your fight, and you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder–ignoring his text messages, giving him one-word replies whenever he speaks to you, pretending you’re too busy to continue the marathon of whatever stupid show you were currently watching–and every time you do that, he’d look so heartbroken you have to fight for your life to not forgive him then and there. 

But fate hates you, or maybe it was by Beomgyu’s design, because as soon as you step into the living room, you see Beomgyu on the couch, fiddling with his guitar. He looks up when he hears you enter.  

You try to make a run for it, sight set on your bedroom door, but Beomgyu quickly springs up and calls your name. “Wait! I wanna talk to you.” 

“Well, I don't wanna talk to you.” You mutter, bee-lining towards your room, but Beomgyu is quicker. It only takes him a couple of large steps to put himself between you and your bedroom door. 

“Please!” He begs. “Just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to talk right now.” You try to push past him but he won’t budge. 

“No, please, listen. I’m sorry for kissing you. I was just… I never got an A before. I didn’t think I could get an A. You know me. You know how everyone thinks that I’m so stupid. I know you think that I’m stupid. It just meant a lot to me. I was so excited to show you that I’m not always such a dumbass.” 

You sigh. "I know you're not a dumbass." 

“But I am. I’m such a dumbass and I’m so sorry for kissing you but please don’t leave me.” 

“Leave you?” You stare at him incredulously. “Beommie, I’m not going to leave you. What makes you think I would?”

“Well you haven’t been talking to me. I thought you were done with me.” He says glumly and you laugh. “No, silly. I was just giving you the silent treatment. Never heard of it?” 

"So we’re still friends?" He asks hopefully, tears in his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. 

"Of course, we are. Don't be silly." You reach out to run a hand through his hair, and he happily leans into your touch. "Okay. Promise me we'll never stop being friends. I can't lose you."

You hesitate. This is why he can’t know you’re in love with him. It would ruin you. "I promise." . 

“Good.” He gives a big sigh of relief before he throws you a mischievous grin. “Are you going to come see me practice for the big gig today? I need my groupie.”

You smack his shoulder. “I’m not your groupie.” 

“You can be. Maybe we can sneak off and mess around backstage.” He pulls you by the hips and rests his forehead against yours but doesn't attempt to kiss you. 

"Beommie… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?” He whines like a brat, “I won’t try to kiss you again, I promise. I'll be your good boy." 

God, the things those simple words do to you. You could never have imagined the man you’ve thirsted after for years acting so needy for you, but you can’t let this go on any longer. It fucking killed you to have him kiss you, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you. If you keep this up, you’ll only open yourself up for more hurt. You have to protect yourself. 

"I just don't want us to get mad at each other again."

"We won't." He tries to reassure you, but you put a hand to his chest and push him away. "No, gyu. It was fun but we can’t do this anymore.” 

He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss against your palm, making your heart flutter. "Then what's going to motivate me to do good?"

"Ice cream?" You suggest, taking your hand away, and he groans. “What’s rock and roll about that?” 

You snort. “Your band name is tomorrow by together. There is nothing rock and roll about you guys.”

“Okay, ouch. Groupie invitation revoked.” 

__________________

Watching Beomgyu play his guitar is like watching magic happen. Even when he messes up or is struggling–the way he’s just so immersed and serious about his craft is so inspiring and you feel so lucky to be able to witness it. 

It was a moment like this–seeing him so lost in the music–when you first realized you’re in love with him. And now, a few years later, that love has only grown stronger. 

“He really is an idiot.” You hear a familiar voice next to you and look to the side to see Yeonjun also looking at Beomgyu. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If I had a girl look at me the way you’re looking at him, I would never let her go.” He says so casually as if he hadn’t just exposed your entire guts out to the world. 

“What–-why would you–I–” You sputter, getting even more flustered at the amused look on his face. Damn him. You take a moment to recollect yourself. “Don’t be silly, Yeonjun. We’re just friends.” 

“Are you? Then how come you won’t go out with me?”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever considered that you just might not be my type?” 

He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, please, I’m everyone’s type. What, you don’t like tall, handsome men? Lead singers? Really talented lovers?”

You suppress the blush his last comment intended to entice in you. “I already told you. I can’t go out with a guy who will flirt more with his fans than me.” 

“Aw, are you jealous, baby? You know I can clean my act up for you.” He moves to get closer to you, his hand reaching out to wrap around you, when suddenly Beomgyu steps in between you two. “Leave her alone, Yeonjun.”

“Why? She likes it.” Yeonjun grins, sending you a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh. Yeonjun tries to reach out to mess up your hair in revenge, but Beomgyu intercepts him. 

“No, she doesn’t. Now, leave.” 

“Alright. Alright. Chill. I’ll leave for now but if you’re not gonna snatch her up then don’t blame me for trying.” He sends you a wink, making you blush. “See you later, doll.” 

You bite your lip, staring at the ground to try to get your blush under control. You don’t like Yeonjun like that. Well, at least not near as much as you like Beomgyu, but you still can’t help the effect he has on you. He’s just so charming, and if you hadn’t been so absolutely in love with Beomgyu, you would’ve definitely been under him long ago. 

“You really shouldn’t encourage him.” Beomgyu says irritably, “You know he’s a manwhore.”

You shrug. “I know but it’s still nice to have a man’s attention.”

“Hey, you have my attention.” He protests, and you stay silent, giving him a cryptic look. 

“What?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you shake your head, dispelling any stupid thoughts of confessing your undying love for him. “Nothing. It’s just not the same. You’re my best friend. He could be something more.” 

“Oh.” Beomgyu steps back, frowning. “Um…okay. I understand that, but do you really need it from Yeonjun? I just… he’s my bandmate, you know?”

“I know.” You say, even though you really don’t. Why should that matter? “But he’s sweet and charming–”

Beomgyu groans, cutting you off. “Please. Anyone but Yeonjun.” 

“Beomgyu—”

“Please.” 

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You don’t know why it matters so much to him but you honestly don’t care. It’s not like you have your eyes on Yeonjun or anyone else but Beomgyu. You’re hopeless anyway. 

__________________

You and Beomgyu have easily settled back into your old routine, pre-hooking up. Like right now,  you’re cuddled up on his bed watching a movie as if nothing had ever happened–as if you’ve never touched him–as if just the feeling of his body wrapped around yours isn’t scorching your skin. 

“I can’t believe we’re watching this stupid movie again.” You groan, shoveling popcorn into your mouth. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Top Gun is one of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made.” He defends his favorite movie fiercely. 

“The greatest bore ever made you mean.” You grumble and he kicks your leg. “Shut up. I don’t insult your stupid horror movies when you make me watch them.” 

“You just did!” You retort, and he scoffs. “Well they’re stupid.” 

“Whatever. We’re watching The Shining after this.” 

“No we’re not!” He protests heatedly, and you answer back just as passionately. “Why not? We agreed we would watch one movie horribly picked by you, and another very superiorly picked by me.” 

He looks down at his hands, mumbling quietly. “You know those twins freak me out. I won’t be able to sleep for a week if we watch that.” 

“Aw, Beommie.” You coo, propping a finger under his chin to make him look up at you. “Well tough luck, wuss. We’re watching it.” 

“I hate you.” He whines, burying his face into your neck. 

Yup, all back to normal. You don’t want to cry because just the light brush of his breath against your skin sends your nervous system into overdrive. Nope. You’re all good. Just two friends watching a terrible movie. 

_______________________________

For a guy who just said he’s so afraid of The Shining, he won’t be able to sleep, he sure is sleeping very soundly right now. 

You glare down at him. He made you sit all through that stupid movie and he’s knocked out half-way through yours. You’d wake him up and give him a severe talking to if you weren’t so incredibly, wonderfully comfortable right now. You feel so warm and toasty with his long body wrapped around you like this, and the view you have–his face resting against your chest so close you can count his eyelashes… it was heaven for you. You suppose you’ll let him sleep for a bit more. 

Maybe you should get some shut-eye too. You’ve been so tired staying up all night studying for the test you took earlier this morning that you can’t help dozing off yourself, his embrace more comfortable than a bed of clouds to you. 

You were feeling so fucking peaceful, the weight of sleep helping to push down all your negative feelings that you don’t even pay much attention to Beomgyu’s repeated movements at first, just chalking them up to him shifting around to try to get comfortable like you. 

Sure, it was taking longer than was reasonable and he was pressing himself closer and closer to you each time, but it’s not like you were going to complain. The closer to Beomgyu, the better, right? It’s only when you feel something hard pushing up against your thigh that you realize what exactly is happening. 

"Beommie, what are you doing?" You mutter sleepily. 

He goes rigid and it takes him a while to respond. "...nothing."

You would have let it go if you didn’t still feel his hard cock against you. “Oh, really?” You challenge, moving your thigh up against him, ripping a deep groan from his throat. “Then what is this?” 

“Okay, okay, I really missed you.” He groans, wrapping his entire body around you. “And you just felt too good against me.” 

You scoff. “Have you no self control?” You ask even as you move your thigh against his cock. 

“No.” He admits, full on humping you. “Just need you.” 

“Beomgyu…” You pretend to hesitate, not wanting to let him off the hook quite so easily, not wanting him to see how much you need him too.

“Please, baby.” He begs, voice even deeper with sleep and all husky. That was your undoing. 

“Fine. You can keep going, fuck me.” You ‘finally’ relent, but the spoiled brat isn’t content with that. He tries to pull your shorts down. “Can I actually fuck you?” 

“No! I meant you can fuck my thigh.” You clarify, silencing his emerging protests with your finger in his mouth. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you hump me like a rabid dog. You don’t get more.” 

“But this is so humiliating.” He whines through your finger before burying his face against your shoulder as he continues to vigorously dry hump you, miming fucking you the best he can. 

"I've seen you hump your body pillow before– More times than I would have liked– This is an upgrade for you, you pervert."

"You're so mean." He whines again and you snort. "I'm helping get your virgin ass off. How am I mean?"

“You’re just so mean.” He cries, grinding fervently against you. 

“And you’ve gone brain-dead again.” You laugh, “Come on, baby. Just focus on getting off. You’re almost there aren’t you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then come on. I want to feel you cumming against my thigh. It would be really fucking sexy.” You drawl, pulling his head back so he can look at you. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You trace a finger over his perfect lips, resisting the urge to kiss them. Fuck, now that you’ve had a taste, it’s like you’ve developed a craving to them. This is why you should have never let him kiss you. “You’re so pretty, wanna see you lose control.” 

“Okay–okay… if you want it.” He stares at you deeply, and you nod.  

“I really do.” You murmur, “Want you to cum all over yourself for me.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty.” He growls, pushing your legs open and pressing himself between your them so he’s humping your pussy instead of your thigh. 

“Hey! Bad boy!” You screech, stuttering when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hand goes out to grab him by the hair. “Bad b-boy.” 

“Please, please, don’t make me let go.” He pants, his hips driving into yours roughly. “I’m almost there. Gonna cum for you, pretty.” 

You hesitate at the nickname, loosening your grip. 

"No, pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

"Now who's the dirty one?" 

"I can't help it." He sucks in a sharp breath, "You drive me crazy." 

Well, that makes two of you.

"Fuck, Beommie." You gasp, pulling on his hair and making him lose it. The way his cock is grinding against your clit making you reach the edge yourself. If he keeps this up, you might actually…

"Oh god, yes, yes, fuck!' He shudders and can tell by the warmth soaking his pants and the way he presses his hips snug against yours that he had orgasmed. 

Oh well, so much for that. 

"Did… did you cum?" He asks once he had caught his breath a bit. 

"No." You admit awkwardly, a little breathless yourself, and he looks disappointed. "It's okay, I'll take care of it."

"But I wanna do it." He whines. “Let me.” 

"No, Beomgyu." You refuse to let him feel how wet you are right now. He can’t know how much you want him. You can’t let him touch you because if he did, you don’t know if you would ever get enough.

"Why not?” He huffs, annoyed. “Why don't you want me to touch you? Do you find me so repulsive?"

"Don't be ridiculous.” You grit out. How very Beomgyu to be this oblivious. “You’re very handsome.” 

"You clearly don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't freak out every time I try to touch you." He snaps, “Listen, I know I’m no Yeonjun, but you don’t have to make me feel so hideous.” 

“This has nothing to do with Yeonjun or you, you ass.” You lie through your teeth. "I'm just not ready to let anyone touch me yet, okay? Unlike you I’m not just looking to get my rocks off. This actually means something to me.”

“So it’s okay to meaninglessly get someone off but it’s not okay to let them get you off too?” He calls you out on your flawed logic.

“Yes.” You double down anyway, and he opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, realizing you need to end this discussion before you say something stupid. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want us to hook up again. Maybe we should–”

“No, no! Fine, I’ll back off.” He puts his hands up in the air, literally backing off. “I won’t try to touch you or kiss you or do anything to you anymore. Only you can do what you want.”

“Beomgyu–”

“Please! I really don’t want this to end. It feels good being with you.” He pleads. God, he has no idea what he’s doing to you. It’s unfair that he has this much effect on you and he doesn’t even know it. 

You really shouldn’t say yes. This is only going to end in disaster, if you say yes. 

“Fine.” 

____________

“I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m just going to go home.” Beomgyu exclaims, freaking out in his small dressing room. He and his band have been invited to play at one of the most popular spots in town. It’s a huge opportunity for them, and so naturally it comes with a great deal of pressure, which Beomgyu is definitely feeling. 

“No! You can’t!” You intercept him, holding onto him tightly so he won’t escape. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years! You can’t just go.” 

“But I am freaking out. I am going to make a fool of myself if I go on that stage. I know I will.” He cries, looking at you with pure panic in his eyes that is actually contagious. But you fight to keep in control of yourself. You have to be the rational one for him. 

“You are going to do great–”

“You don’t know that. They will hate me. They’re boo me. Oh, god, they’re going to throw things at me. I have to go. I have to–” 

You grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up, and even though this time you’re prepared for the kiss, the feel of his lips still takes you off guard. There is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the electricity you feel whenever your lips touch, and this time when you hold onto him, it’s to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

“You won’t.” You tell him once you bring yourself to pull away from the kiss. Or once you run out of oxygen that is. “You’re the most talented musician I know. I know you’re freaking out right now but once you’re out there, you’re going to put on the greatest show those people have ever seen. I know you will, because you’re that good!” 

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, confused. 

“Well, you wouldn’t shut up.” You mutter nervously. 

“Right.” He clears his throat, and it’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you shyly. “You really think I’m the most talented musician, you know?” 

“I know you are.” You say truthfully. 

“Even more than Yeonjun?” He asks and you roll your eyes. “Even more than Yeonjun.”

He grins widely, triumphant. “Okay. I will go out there and show those fuckers how it’s done.” He says confidently, taking a step towards the stage before he quickly doubles back. “But before I go… another kiss for good luck?”

Oh god, you’re being put through hell and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

“Don’t get used to this.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into another kiss. 

_________________

Beomgyu does amazing. Maybe it’s the stage lights, maybe it’s the sway of the music, maybe it’s the energy of the crowd, maybe it’s how happy he looks up there–but you’ve never been so in love with him. And so proud, and so amazed, and so bewitched. 

And it seems everyone around you thinks the same. The crowd absolutely went wild for him and his band. They cheered loudly after every song. They hooted and clapped whenever one of the boys interacted with them. They enthusiastically answered their questions and followed their requests. It all went so well, you just know this gig has secured them many more in the future, and you like to think that you helped in your own way, by keeping the lead guitarist from running away before the concert. 

Said guitarist grabs you and hauls you off the ground in a suffocating hug as soon as he sees you backstage. “Did you see that? Did you hear how loudly they cheered for us?” 

“So loudly I think one of my eardrums has ruptured actually.” You laugh, making a show of pulling at your ear. “You guys did so amazing, Beommie! The band absolutely blew everyone away!”

“Who cares about the band? I rocked!” He shakes you excitedly. 

“Yes, you did.” You easily give in to him fishing for compliments. He deserves it. “You were the star of the show. I heard so many people around me–”

“Oh my god.” Beomgyu gasps, staring at something behind you. 

“What?”

“It’s Haeun.”

You look back to see the devil herself. “Oh.” 

“Beommie!” She greets him enthusiastically, coming over. Beommie? That’s your nickname for him. You’re the only one who calls him that!

“You did really well.” She enthuses, making him puff his chest out like a goddamn rooster. “Y-you l-liked it?” 

“Of course, I did. I always knew you’re so talented.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you, and they both look at you, Beomgyu mortified and Haeun unimpressed. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.” You mutter, wishing the ground would swallow you up right about now.  

“Anyways,” She rolls her eyes at you then pins him with a flirty look so thick you think you could actually suffocate on it “What I was saying is that you looked really good up there.”

He gulps, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She coos, stepping closer to him and running her hand down his arm through his sleeveless shirt until she reaches his hand and pulls it up, playing with his fingers. “You really know how to finger those strings, huh? I wonder if the guitar is the only thing you can play?”

Once again, you can’t keep in the noise of disgust that came from deep within you, but this time neither Beomgyu nor her pay any attention to you. 

“Uh—well—I–” He stutters dumbly. Typical.

“Why don’t you and the band come to the party I am hosting Friday? Maybe you can show me those moves up close?” She winks at him. 

“Hell y-yeah. I’ll be there.” He chokes out and she smiles widely. “Great. See you then.” She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and you almost reach out to scratch her eyes out but you contain yourself. 

She gives you one last snobby look before throwing her hair back and walking off. Beomgyu stares after her, dazed. "Am I crazy or did she just flirt with me?" 

“Come on, Beomgyu, apes are more subtle than her.” You grumble, the fire of jealousy consuming your insides. “Anyways, you know she’s only doing this because you’re becoming successful, right? She always treated you as a loser before, never giving you the time of day, but now suddenly that you gain a shred of popularity, she starts liking you?" 

"Oh." He pauses for a second, and you reach out to pat his back, wishing to comfort him, when he breaks into a huge grin. “So what you’re saying is that I’m popular and she likes me? Awesome!” 

“Ugh.” You storm away, followed behind by a confused Beomgyu.

________________

“Since I did really well today, don’t I deserve a reward?” Beomgyu grabs you as soon as you’re back at your apartment, pulling you flush against him and trying to kiss you.

Now, you would have loved to give in. That kiss you shared earlier still tingles at your lips, but not after what he did. The nerve of him after slobbering all over another woman in front of you!

“Wait until the party, maybe she’ll give you your reward.” You push him away, disgusted at the thought of it. But Beomgyu continues proving to you why he easily wins the title of least aware person in the entire universe. “But I want my reward now.” 

“God, Beomgyu, you really know how to turn a girl on.” You growl, shoving him out of your way. “Go to sleep.” 

"What's your problem?" You hear him ask before you slam the door shut. 

You rip your clothes off–band merch you wore to support the idiot–and put on a long shirt. Which as soon as you settle under the covers, you discover actually belongs to him, his scent all over it and drowning you in unwanted feelings. 

You don’t care that she came on to him. You don’t care that she invited him to her party. You don’t care that he’ll probably go and she’ll make a move on him and he’ll fall deeper in love with her and she’ll have him all wrapped around her finger and–

Okay, you care. You care too much. You can’t handle the thought of it any longer, but you can’t reveal your real feelings. It will be the end of you. No, you have to bottle it all down. 

‘You can’t let it show.’ You think to yourself as you curl into a ball, shutting out the outside world and even your own memories, trying to just be claimed by sleep. 

But the world isn’t that fair, and through your curled form you can hear the sound of Beomgyu moaning out. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but you’ve heard him enough times to know exactly what he’s doing. 

You bet he’s thinking of her. You bet he’s imagining fingering her. You can’t allow that. Not while you’re lying here breaking over him.

You throw the covers off you and storm to his room, bursting the door open. 

“Hey!” He cries out, trying to cover his junk. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you from my room.” You say plainly. “You weren't exactly subtle. Now let me see.”

“But I thought you–”

“Do you want it or not?”

He only hesitates for a second, the whore, before he throws the blanket away.  You roll your eyes, getting onto the bed and grabbing his dick, pumping it in your hand. He immediately flops back, relaxing into your touch. “Oh god, I needed this.”

"Yeah? Got all horny from the way everyone was eyeing you up? You know you really gave Yeonjun a run for his money with how slutty you were acting." You mutter bitterly. Yes, you enjoyed the show, but it wasn’t only Haeun eyeing him up. 

Beomgyu glares at you. "Can we not talk about him while you're fisting my cock?" 

“Whatever.” You brush him off, focused on something else right now. "So, thinking of fucking any of your new fans?"

“Hmmm.” He mumbles, and you can see from the way his eyes have gone all glazed that he’s not paying attention. “You. I really wanna fuck you.” He thrusts into your hand, whining. 

"You wish." 

"I really do." He breathes out, and your own breath stutters. Man, this is dangerous but you can’t stop. You speed up your movement, making Beomgyu wince. 

“Wait, dry, dry, hurts.” Beomgyu whines at the chafing feeling, and you almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for his next words. “Why don’t you put it in your mouth to get it wet?” 

You snort, seeing right through him. “You’re not slick, gyu.”

“But it really is dry.” He pouts, making a show of expressing his pain as you continue to jerk him off, and you sigh, removing your hand. “Where is your lube?” 

“In your mouth.” He replies like a smartass and you pin him down with a glare. “I can always stop, you know?”

“Okay, okay, it’s in the drawer.” He gives up, pointing to his bedside cabinet, and you quickly look away from his adorable pout, knowing if you look at it too long you’d just give him everything he wants. 

“What the fuck is this?” You pause in your tracks once you open up the drawer.

“What?” He asks, a confused look on his face that quickly turns to horror once he sees what you’ve fished out of the drawer. 

You hold up a fleshlight and a pair of panties silently, waiting for him to explain. Panties that you know too well, your own fucking panties in fact. 

“I can explain.”

“Yes, please. Explain to me how you’re such a massive pervert who steals his best friend’s panties so he can jerk off with them.” 

“You’re not just my best friend.” He protests lamely and your stupid heart swells up against your best efforts, only for him to smash it to pieces again. “We mess around and you get me so horny, I can't help but imagine what you'd feel like. But I know you don't want that so I had to get creative."

Well, it’s still a compliment, right? He’s jerking off with your panties, not hers. Then again, you’re his roommate and he has easier access to your underwear. 

You throw the items at him. “Show me what you do with them.”

"But I don't wanna… I want you." He whimpers, leaning towards you and trying to kiss you. 

"Tough luck.” You hiss, pushing him away. “I want to see." 

He groans, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto the toy before pushing it in with his fingers… in and out, in and out. 

Okay, that bitch may have had a point about his fingers. 

"Get to it already." You snap, mouth dry. 

"I'm just getting it ready, sheesh." He mutters, finally lining the toy up with his cock before moving it down his length. 

"Oh…" He sighs, head falling back as the toy takes his cock. 

"Feels good?" You whisper, and he nods, pulling the toy off with a wet sound, taking a second to catch his breath before pushing it down again. 

"God, you're pathetic." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. You're so fucking turned on right now, you’re sure you’re more wet than that fucking toy. "Fucking a plastic pussy because you can't get laid?"

"You wanna volunteer to f-fuck me instead?" He grits out but it sounds more like a moan with how much he's struggling to not succumb to the pleasure. 

“Is that what you think about when you're fucking yourself?" You ask and he hesitates, the toy slipping off his cock. 

God, his cock looked so good–so hard and glistening and thick. You wanna throw that stupid toy away and take him instead… but you can't. So you grab the hand he has holding the toy and make him move it to his cock again. 

He gasps as you push it back down. “Ah…y-yeah. Think about fucking you all the time.” 

It takes everything in you not to put your hand between your legs and rub yourself off right now. “And what do you do with the panties?” 

He freezes, a deep blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t wanna say.” 

Now that just makes you want to know all the more. “You know I can always leave?” You threaten and he groans, his hips bucking into the toy. “Stop saying that. It’s not fair.” 

“Show me.” You insist and he whimpers, not looking at you as he grabs the panties with his free hand and pulls them towards his face, taking a whiff off them. 

“Oh my god, you freak.” You gasp, your thighs pressing together at the obscene sight. 

“No, please–”

“I didn't say you could stop.” You snap when he drops his hand and stops fucking his fleshlight. 

He whimpers, bringing the cloth back to his face, his tongue peeking out to lick against the fabric. 

“Fuck, you’re disgusting.” 

He whines again, shaking his head. “Just wanna taste you.” 

You cock your head to the side curiously. “You wanna taste me?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods dumbly, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the thought of it. Well, who are you to deny him something he wants this badly?

You put your hand down your shorts, nearly making him choke as he watches you rub your soaking pussy a little bit to coat your fingers before bringing them out and holding them for him to see. You spread your fingers apart, showing him the strings of arousal between them. “You want this?” 

He drops the panties and sticks his tongue out like a dog begging for a treat, his hips never ceasing their rutting into his toy, the sticky sound of his cock pushing in and out ringing against your ears.  “Please…please…” 

“Okay, quit drooling.” You mutter in disgust at the saliva falling onto the sheets below, and move your hand towards him. As soon as your fingers are within reach, he takes them fully into his touch, moaning out at the taste. 

He sucks them off, his tongue licking up any juices in between your fingers until there is none left. Then he pants, “More…sit on my face.” 

You pull your hand away, your pussy quivering at the thought but you don’t let it show. “No way. You don’t deserve it.” 

“Why not? I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?” 

‘Not when you’re thirsting over her.’ You think to yourself bitterly. 

“Please.” 

“I said no.” You shut him down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun of your own.  Finally giving into the temptation, you slip a hand into your shorts as you watch him continue to fuck his toy.

Beomgyu groans out loud. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just teasing me.” 

“How am I teasing you?” You grin, rubbing your clit as you watch him lose it over you. Yeah, this is why you continue to do this. This will be your undoing. 

“You know how much I wanna touch you. Just come on up and sit on my face.”

“No.” 

“Please. I can make you feel better than your fingers can. Just give me a chance.” 

“Oh please, you’re a virgin, Beomgyu. I know you have no experience. I’m better off fucking myself.” You laugh at him. 

“Yes, I do. Look at this.” He leans forward, pressing his fleshlight against the bed and fucking into it. 

“Is that how you imagine fucking me?” 

“Yeah–you always take it so well.” 

Fuck, he really knows how to get you going. 

You shake your head. “Well I’m not a plastic toy for you to hammer your dick into. I need to feel pleasure too.”

“Then teach me.” He cries out desperately. “You can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.” 

“Are you whoring yourself out to me?” 

“Yes. I’m your whore.” He agrees, his dick thrusting wildly into his toy, and you in turn pushing your fingers into yourself and matching his pace, pretending he’s fucking you. “Just please do something. I’m going to burst.” 

“But I want you to burst, baby.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “I like how pathetic you look cumming on yourself or in a pocket pussy. You’re such a fucking loser.” 

He’s nearly gasping at this point. “Come on, please. Wouldn’t having my cock inside you feel so much better than your fingers? Just pin me down and use me the way you like. I don’t mind.” 

He’s driving you fucking crazy. You’re one second away from breaking. And maybe you would have, if he hadn’t kept talking. 

“Just need to feel a real pussy.” 

How does he always do this? He always ruins it for himself, always reminds you that you’re just a pair of tits and a warm pussy for him. Not who he really wants, just what’s available. 

You sigh heavily, taking your fingers away from your pussy. “I’m getting bored. If you don’t blow your load now, then you can do it by yourself.” 

“No, no. I can do it. I’m a good boy.”

“Yeah? Are you a good, pretty slut who cums on command?” You mock him, but he doesn’t care. He wants it too bad. 

“Yeah. Just–just give me a kiss.” He pleads, and seeing your face, he quickly adds. “Just a kiss and I’ll empty my balls out for you.” 

Well, it’s not like this would be the most egregious mistake you’ve ever made. You’ve already kissed him. Might as well get this over with and go back to your bed so you can wallow in how you’re nothing but a warm body to him. 

“Fine.” You press your lips against his and he immediately opens his mouth, his tongue licking your lips, trying to push inside. You let him, wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking on it before brushing against it with your own tongue. Meanwhile, you sneak your hand between you, taking control of the fleshlight and pumping it rapidly over his sensitive cock, not even giving him a chance.

“Do it then. Now.” You demand, your lips still connected together with a thick string of saliva. “Oh god, oh my god, cumming, cumming baby.” 

He kisses you again, muffling the noises of his climax against your mouth, and you take every bit of it like you can never get enough. 

But eventually he pulls back, his high over and not needing you anymore. 

“God, that was crazy.” He says at last. 

“Yeah. Learned a lot about you and what you like to do behind closed doors.” You mutter, and his eyes widen. 

“Listen, it’s not–”

“It’s not what I think, I know. You’re just a pervert who needed some help getting off. I get it. But next time you take one of my panties, I’m breaking your arms.” 

____________________________

A/N: well I think there is one more chapter or at most two left of this series. kind of a short one. what are we thinking so far? always open to hear ideas. i just thought of an ending but i'd love to hear from you guys. maybe i'll be inspired

Taglist: @wonwooz1 @yaorzu-blog @allylikesdabee @rkivezzs @malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop

this was just a provisional taglist as i don't usually do one. it's just a few people have specifically asked to be tagged so there you go

[mrspasser]

I'll lay my head down here

Sterek fanfiction Stiles needs a place to sleep. He chooses Derek.

Also available on A03.

image source

“I’m not sleeping on the floor again, you assholes!” Stiles throws a balled up burger wrapper at the infuriating werewolves who took over his intended sleeping space. 

Isaac bats the greasy paper ball away with a quick flick of his hand, hardly having to look at it. “You snooze, you lose, Stilinski,” he says meanly, as he snuggles deeper inside the couch pillows to drive his point home. “Besides, I gave up my bed, I shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”

Stiles perks up when an idea crosses his mind. Upstairs, in Isaac’s room, are Lydia and Cora. Maybe he could -

“Don’t even think about it, Stilinski!” Jackson cuts his unspoken thought off with one sharp remark. He glares at him from his spot on the couch he’s sharing with Isaac: one asshole werewolf on each side. The guy is extra touchy because Lydia picked Cora as a sleeping partner over him - which is more than fair, if you ask Stiles, both Lydia picking Cora over Jackson and Jackson being sour over getting the cold shoulder from his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t think you’ll fit,” Allison offers apologetically from his right. She’s squeezed in the large armchair with Scott, who’s already fast asleep and snoring softly. 

He waves her offer away. If he’d try to squish himself in the chair with them, neither one of them would sleep a wink all night. Same goes for the couple in the other available chair, although Stiles is more sure to survive the night with Scott and Allison than with Boyd and Erica. That only leaves - 

“You could try Derek?” Allison blinks innocently at him. 

Stiles huffs a laugh, letting the sarcasm bleed through in generous helpings. “Yeah, right.” He leaves it at that, too tired to hope to put up the proper facade of pretending to dislike the Alpha werewolf. Hey, we all deal with our crushes in our own way! Stiles has to do what he can when literally living with a pack of wolves, who can smell pheromones and who knows what else.

Eventually, he settles for stretching out on the rug that Lydia made Derek buy a while back. It’s not overly cushiony, but it’ll do the job. It’ll have to. Besides, he hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in four or maybe even five days, staying up researching and worrying most of the night. The Big Bad is dead, the worrying is over and his research paid off: he should be able to sleep now, right?!

At first, Stiles uses his hoodie for a pillow, yet after about twenty minutes he gives up and pulls it back on because he won’t be able to sleep if he’s cold. Derek patched up most of the holes in his loft and it’s actually resembling a nice apartment these days, but it’s still the middle of the night in February and Stiles is lying on the floor without a blanket or a pillow. He misses his own bed. His comforter. His pillow. His other pillow, the one that’s older than him and oddly lumpy, but it was the one that was in his mother’s bed until the day she died. It hasn’t smelled like her in a long, long time. Stiles has also washed it a couple of times during the years, he’s not that much of a pig, despite popular opinion. But it’s familiar and comforting and he still takes it with him for sleepovers with Scott. 

He considers whether or not he would’ve brought his pillow if this impromptu sleepover had been planned in any way. He’s known Scott since kindergarten, he’s his best friend. He wouldn’t say or even think anything bad about Stiles still needing a special pillow to sleep even when he’s almost twenty one years old. And while he knows most of the people in this room for five years or even longer and trusts them with his life, that doesn’t mean that they’re not a bunch of dickheads who will tease him every chance they get.

It’s a pointless thought exercise, because nothing about this sleepover was planned. They were supposed to kill that wyvern during the day, when it slept in his creepy little cave. That's what all Stiles’ research was for! He even found a way to kill the beast without having to hack it to pieces, which was nice because in the end he was against animal cruelty, you know? But then there were witches, two of them. They weren’t planned, neither was the ensuing fight in the woods. The unexpectedness of it all had left everybody antsy, especially the werewolves. And even though they recouped with a movie night and a nice pack pile, nobody wanted to be very far away from the others. Hence the impromptu sleepover that had Stiles sleeping on a rug, between the coffee table and the couch. Which wasn’t fair, because he totally knocked a witch out with his bat! He did his fair share and pulled his weight and what not. The least he deserves is a nice night of sleep.

Another hour later, Stiles is sore all over and chilled to the bone. There’s no way he can sleep like this. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he whispers to the leg of the coffee table that he knows has Isaac’s claw marks on it. 

As quietly as he can he makes his way upstairs on the rounding stairs. On the landing there’s three doors to choose from: the one on his left leads to Isaac’s bedroom, where Lydia and Cora are sleeping. The one in the middle is the bathroom - with a bath, for heaven’s sake, Derek has a tub! - and that leaves the master bedroom on his right. The Alpha’s den. Stiles has never been inside it. He even doubts if Isaac has set foot in the room very often, besides for cleaning purposes.

Stiles never really intended to go into Derek’s room, because despite what the others seem to think, he actually values his life. And his dignity. He thought it better to take a chance with the girls, take on the risk of Jackson wanting to kill him the next morning when he discovered Stiles had slept in the same bed as his girlfriend.

But…

The door to Derek’s bedroom is cracked.

Stiles can see inside. 

He can’t see that much, with it being the middle of the night and the only light coming from a gap between the curtains in front of Derek’s window. But the moonlight is just right, illuminating the sleeping form of the Alpha in the bed. A bed that is more than large enough for two people and Derek is neatly sleeping on one side of the bed. If Stiles is quiet enough he might even be able to slip into the bed without waking Derek. The werewolf got hurt pretty badly today and healing always takes a lot out of him. There’s a pretty good chance the guy is sleeping like a log.

Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s gonna risk it.

***

He didn’t think he’d actually do it, but after a few minutes of indecisiveness on the landing, Stiles quietly tiptoes into Derek’s bedroom. He rounds the bed to the unoccupied side of the mattress and gingerly lifts the tip of the blanket.

“You’re not getting in with your jeans on,” Derek says, without opening his eyes.

Stiles yelps and he’s already stammering halfway through an apology when he suddenly shuts his mouth. His back teeth actually click together. There’s a few seconds of silence and then: “You’d let me into your bed?”

“Not with your jeans on,” Derek repeats. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but he’s been listening to Stiles toss and turn downstairs for a while now and with all of his pack members sleeping peacefully, he’d like the last one to get some rest too. Besides, Stiles would continue to keep him up with his restless behaviour otherwise; Derek just can’t seem to tune him out. It’s been that way for years already, maybe even from the beginning.

“O-kay.” He can feel Stiles staring at him in the dark and he patiently waits for the decision he knows the boy is gonna make. No, not a boy. Stiles will be 21 this Spring. Derek has seen him grow up, literally and figuratively, along with the rest of his ragtag pack of teenagers. Stiles still wears jeans and plaid most of the time, but the garments don’t hang as loose on him as they did when he was 16. He’s grown into a handsome young man, with a good head on his broad shoulders. Derek counts himself lucky to have Stiles as part of his pack, to have him close. Not as close as he sometimes might wish, yet Derek is always conscious of not playing favourites. So he usually keeps Stiles at an arm length and takes care to treat him just like everyone else. It helps that the two of them elevated snark and banter to an effective communication style. Despite all the sarcasm and barbs, Derek is pretty sure there is no-one in his pack who sees through him like Stiles does. It was scary at first and it made him lash out, but Stiles stood firm. Derek is immensely grateful that he did.

There’s the rustling of clothing hitting the floor, jeans and a shirt, then the blanket lifts and Stiles scoots underneath. Derek feels him settle in behind his back, a foot or so away. “Thanks,” Stiles whispers in the dark.

“Go to sleep,” Derek grunts, eager to go to sleep and not think about the young man who is sharing his bed.

***

Derek’s bed is pretty comfortable, Stiles thinks to himself as he digs himself in. Oh, who is he kidding?! Derek’s bed is amazing. The mattress is just the right combination of firm and soft, the pillow hugs his head and shoulders just right and the comforter is warm but still light to the touch. It’s a million times better than his bed at home, even when he’s not counting the fact that he’s sharing the bed with a hot werewolf.

Yet Stiles can’t sleep. 

Yes, the pillow is heavenly. Yes, the mattress allows his tired body to finally relax. Yes, the comforter hugs him nicely. But there’s something missing and Stiles knows exactly what it is. His pillow.

He needs to hold something. He needs to be able to curl around something. Or someone, his traitorous brain suggests as he feels Derek move across from him.

“Why aren’t you asleep, Stiles?” Derek asks in that long-suffering tone he uses when Stiles is doing something to annoy him. Which is pretty often, although Stiles knows the annoyance is mostly for show these days. He has turned onto his back, his eyes glinting in the moonlight where they are looking over at Stiles.

“Can’t,” Stiles laments, trying to catch the comforter between his arms in lieu of his dearly missed pillow. It doesn’t really work, because the comforter also has to cover Derek’s bulk and there’s little left to use. Little to none, especially when Derek snatches the comforter back from where it was probably leaving a cold gap on Derek’s other side. The sudden move has Stiles sort of falling over from where he was laying on his side. He’s more on his front now, filling up the space that was between them at first. He can feel the warmth of Derek’s body from just a few inches away. It’s actually kind of comforting.

“Try harder,” Derek commands and he closes his eyes again.

Stiles thinks of answering ‘Yes, Alpha’, but thinks better of it. It might make Derek move again, to push Stiles out of bed instead of pulling him in to have a cuddle. So he stays quiet and closes his eyes, focussing his mind on the almost tangible presence of Derek’s bare shoulder mere inches away. Derek is warm and smells nice and if Stiles was a werewolf, he’s sure he’d feel even better about having his Alpha so close. Yet even though he’s not a werewolf, he still enjoys it. A lot.

He falls asleep.

He knows that, because he wakes up at some point, at an unknown hour of the night. He’s warm, so warm. And comfortable, even though his pillow is a lot firmer than he remembers it being. It also moves a little, because his pillow is Derek and the Alpha werewolf gently moves his arm in what Stiles suspects is a more comfortable position. He would panic about sleeping half on top of Derek if he were not so damn comfortable. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surely if Derek wouldn’t want him sleeping on him, he’d push Stiles off. Instead, Stiles feels Derek’s arm wrap around his back, accompanied by a soft sigh from the Alpha.

Stiles sleeps.

***

Derek is not the first to wake up, although he is certainly not the last. He becomes aware of the world with Stiles wrapped around his torso, his head pillowed on Derek’s chest. He’s only a little surprised by how good it feels to wake up like this and it takes a while before he brings himself to carefully move out of Stiles’ embrace. The boy mumbles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Derek watches him for a moment, standing beside his bed. He’s not sure how to feel about this, except for some embarrassment about wanting to crawl back into bed and slot himself back into Stiles’ arms.

Downstairs, most of the pack is still asleep. Isaac has his arms wrapped around Jackson’s lower legs, as if he’s cuddling a particularly bony teddy bear. Jackson is still asleep, even snoring softly. Scott snores too, curled around his girlfriend in the large armchair. In the other armchair, Boyd is watching him carefully, his arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend. 

“Morning,” the dark man rumbles quietly, not to wake Erica.

“Morning,” Derek answers, keeping his voice down as well. “Coffee?”

Boyd inclines his head in thanks and Derek ambles on to the kitchen, where he finds Lydia, immersed in a science journal. She has a cappuccino sitting in front of her, the cup half empty. “Good morning, Derek,” she says, briefly glancing up from her reading material.

“Morning,” he repeats, busying himself with the coffee maker. He brings a cup to Boyd when he’s done and returns to join Lydia at the table. He sits back in his chair, his coffee in front of him, to catch the rays of pale sunlight that slant through the high windows. It’s quiet in the loft, with most of the people still sleeping and the ones that are awake quietly starting up their day.

He sips from his coffee, listening to the sounds of Cora waking up and going into the bathroom. She comes downstairs not long after, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt - same as her brother, her bare feet hardly making a sound. He points to the mostly full pot of coffee on the counter when she enters the kitchen and he gets a hair ruffle as thanks from his little sister. She pours herself a cup and leans against the counter, enjoying the sunlight on her face just like he is. 

It’s Stiles who comes down next, although Derek can hear from the way he drags his feet that he’s barely awake. Why he’s not sleeping in like he should be, is anyone’s guess. He expects Stiles to stop in the living room, to wake up Scott or maybe even Jackson if he’s feeling particularly cheeky, but he doesn’t. The footsteps pretty much make a beeline from the stairs towards the kitchen. Derek opens one eye from where he closed them against the sunrays to see Stiles shuffling towards him in his boxers and T-shirt, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning soundlessly. His hair is standing up on one side. He’s wearing socks, navy blue ones with a red line near the toes.

The werewolf opens his mouth to point his packmate towards the coffee maker, but before he can say anything, Stiles has reached his chair and slings a hairy leg over his lap. He plonks down unceremoniously and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. 

“You were gone,” Stiles mumbles disapprovingly, his mouth moving against Derek’s collarbone. And just like that his heartbeat evens out and he’s fast asleep again.

Derek sits frozen in his chair, his heart beating loudly inside his ribcage. If Stiles were awake he could probably feel it pound against his own chest. His hands hover uselessly on either side, not knowing whether to wrap around Stiles or pick him up and toss him to the floor. 

Stiles is oblivious, his sleeping body moulding easily against Derek’s. He’s warm and pliant, just like he was when they were sleeping together in Derek’s bed. 

When he chances a look at Lydia across the table, she’s already watching him steadily with a sly smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Glad to see you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” she comments eventually, before primly taking a sip from her cappuccino and going back to her reading.

Behind him, Cora snorts quietly in amusement. She comes up at his back and puts a hand in his hair again, running her fingers through the short strands. It’s grounding and Derek only notices how much he needs that when she lightly scratches her nails across his scalp. 

“He’s cute like this,” his sister remarks and even though he can hear the humour in her voice, he can also hear the truth in her heartbeat. “Best not wake him up, big bro.” She runs her hand through his hair one last time and then she wanders off, leaving him to carefully wrap one arm around Stiles’ lower back.

Slowly, Derek feels himself relax. The loft is quiet and peaceful and Derek is in his own little bubble, with the sunlight on his face and Stiles in his lap. Almost automatically, he starts to rub his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back. Aside from some sleepy snuffling, there’s no real response. Derek picks his coffee back up and slowly drinks it, tilting his face towards the sun. It’s a nice morning.

[milkywaydrabbles]

anything nsfw (or sfw idm) with mikey and a taller reader? or any other tr boys? no sub!reader please

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for! I did both SFW and NSFW it was v fun. However if you'd like a m!reader or gn!/reader please let me know! I'll also do it for any other requested TR boy ty mwuah

Mikey x Tall!Reader

Lord the way Mikey would have had her head if they didn’t grow up together. She was always a cocky little shit on being taller than him--and seeing eye to eye with Draken. She’d been friends with him, Shinichiro and Emma your whole life. She used to be so small and shy and cute--what happened?

It felt like from one day to the next she grew in her own skin, having an awkward growth spurt as a teen and looking like a newborn giraffe learning how to walk for the first time. Always nervous to talk to boys and girls--the boys would look at her like some kind of freak, and the girls would simply make fun of her for her height. ‘How will you ever get a boyfriend if you’re so tall?’

Mikey was always there for her afterwards, make sure she knew that he still liked her a lot even if she was taller than him.

And then the years passed, and Mikey changed, and she changed too. Except now, Mikey was the leader of Bonten, one of the most dangerous gangs in the country and she was, well, a new executive climbing the ranks. No longer the shy, scared little girl, she was just as ruthless as the rest of them.

And all the while, by Mikey’s side no matter what. She was cocky, but respectful in front of the rest of them. Honestly the rest of the execs just thought you were a childhood friend and nothing more--much like Sanzu.

But what they didn’t know was that she’d joke and prod at Mikey behind closed doors. He was a ruthless leader, but with her he’d turn back into a kid, scowling at the way she’d hold things over his head (literally!). 

“I can fire you.” He’d start. “I can fucking kill you. You know that right?” throwing daggers her way when he scowls, arms crossed. She’d simply snort and say “You could. But then you’d be bored when you’re alone wouldn’t you?” She’s right.

Imagine the shock of the rest of the execs when Mikey ‘accidentally’ drops the ball during an interrogation mission. Rats were found smuggling drugs out from underneath them to make a quick buck and Mikey was personally there, front and center to get info. Of course, he wasn’t the one doing the torture, he’s too good for that. She stood behind him with a stone cold face, that could bring most of the men in the room to their knees. But the assholes who were caught kept egging her on like she couldn’t hold her own. Like a woman shouldn’t be in the ranks at all.

“You’ll do well to not insult my girl like that.” It didn’t go unnoticed, Sanzu and Rindou glancing at each other for a moment but thinking nothing of it--you were an executive, he could just be talking like you were his in the same way the rest of the execs were under his command. 

They kept sneering, until they realized she was the one doing the torture and not the usual suspect of Sanzu. It was gruesome and honestly one of the worst cases of torture they’d seen, but all the information was extracted. Which means she turned into their executioner, pulling a glock out from its holster underneath your shirt and putting a bullet between their eyes. The silence was deafening, only Mikey laughing to himself and raising her hand to his lips with a quiet ‘that’s my girl’ and a kiss to the back of her hand.

The next meeting the execs had (that Mikey wasn’t a part of) turned into a madhouse.

NSFW: 

Mikey was always one to want to stay in control, but he had his work cut out with her. She was so good at keeping him underneath her, practically whimpering at the way she would tease his cock with her fingers, with her mouth, with her pussy. 

“You’re such a good boy, Mikey.” She’d coo, fingers slowly wrapping around his erection and pumping at a snail’s pace; teasing. “Coming home to me after such a busy day.” She leaned down and gave the head of his dick a kiss, holding his hips down so he can’t buck them up into her face. “Are you going to let me take care of you, baby boy?” He nodded, breath shaky as he exhaled, “Y-yes, please.”

She used her height to her advantage, push up bras and plunging necklines her best friend to tease him even in the office. She just had to lean only a little bit, pretending to lean down and read whatever it was he had in his hands before Mikey was panting like a dog begging her to let him fuck.

She’d sit down on his desk, short skirt and pumps that made her legs look even longer, spreading her legs ever so slightly so he could see the pretty lacy panties she’d been wearing. Mikey would get on his knees ready to eat that pretty pussy, only for her heel pressed against his chest to stop him (and he was still so far away, fucking long legs). You know that one scene of Wolf of Wall Street? Very much that.

Whenever  they fuck she’s very much on top, bouncing on his lap for her pleasure only. And if he cums before she’s ready to stop? Well Mikey better get used to overstimulation quickly, she’s not done yet.

[miley1442111]

hi, this is so random but can you do a story for bucky barnes from marvel? Like something angsty with him and reader being separated and she's a hydra agent but it's kind of just before infinity war. Like she was frozen too because she was a scientist and seen as a threat but also an asset and now she's like 'the new winter soldier' since he escaped hydra and she doesn't remember him, but then she does?

Thank you! 💓💓💓💓💓

thank you for submitting this, this inspired me to open up a marvel category!

I'll always find you, doll.- b.barnes

a/n: this is a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: your mission to get a hard drive from the avengers compound can only go well, right?

pairing: buckybarnes x reader

warnings: general marvel topics, mind control, fighting, hospitals, reader being seen as 'dangerous', general angst.

Everything was so loud. The gunshots, the punches being thrown at you and the ones you were throwing back. You were fighting a teenager in a spider-suit. Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew that was wrong, but you couldn’t even access the memory of your name. Only your orders remained. Get the hard drive.

You had fought your way through Agent Romanoff, Spider-boy, Agent Rhodes, Bird-man, and Bug-man. Next up was Stark and Captain America. The others were either dead or unconscious. 

“You don’t have to do this, let us help you,” the Captain spoke, his shield at the ready. 

“And why would I do that?” You asked, taking your knife from the holster on your waist.

“Because we have Barnes,” Stark cut in. 

“Who the hell is ‘Barnes’?” You spoke, then threw the knife. It hit the Captain before he could dodge and it lodged itself in his arm. He let out a groan of pain and pulled it out, ready to fight again. Stark relied on his suit and attempted blasting you, but you were too quick, jumping out of the way. 

After a long back and forth between you and the two men, Stark got close enough to drug you, and everything went black.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up in a hospital bed with no recollection on how you got there. You rattled against the chains that held your hands, screaming for anyone. After a few hours of yelling, you realised no one was coming, and your body let itself sleep again.

You woke up again, to someone outside your room. 

“You have to let me see her!” A male voice. 

“No way Barnes,” Stark sighed. “She’s too dangerous like this. You’ll either set her off or make her angry-”

“She knows me,” Barnes shot back, cutting Stark off. 

“Oh, you mean the woman who flat out asked who the hell you were, that woman knows you?” Stark snarled. "we have bigger things to deal with, Thanos is coming!"

You stifled a groan at the throbbing pain in your muscles. You clearly had no medication, no IV, nothing.

“I'm well-aware of our current situation Tony. I'm also aware that some part of her knows me!” Barnes argued. “Just… let me see her, please. Even if she’s asleep. Please Tony, she’s my wife.”

Who the fuck was he talking about? 

Reich, Händler, Kohle, Regel, Atmosphäre, Markieren, Strafverfolgung, Haltung, Überfall, allmählich. 

Rich, dealer, coal, rule, atmosphere, mark, law enforcement, attitude, raid, gradually.

They played in your head like a pulsing mantra. You had never been one for speaking Russian, so you had German words. You hated the people that did this to you. The people that tortured you, the people that wiped your memories, the people that broke you. 

“Bucky, you’re going to end up killing yourself over this, don’t bother with her.”

Bucky. Your Bucky. 

Your Bucky was behind that door. Your husband. The man you loved so dearly before you were taken by Hydra. 

“Buck?!” you shouted, clarity pushing the fog in your brain away. You broke through your chains, the strength of the serum making it easy. “Bucky!” You screamed again, trying to get the door open. 

“Y/N?! Doll?!” He shouted back, opening the door. You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso in an all-consuming hug. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered into your neck as he hugged you. 

“I thought you’d never find me,” you sobbed into his neck. 

“I’ll always find you, doll,” he promised, holding you tighter. You pulled back a bit, tilting his head so you could kiss him. For the first time in 60 years, you kissed your husband. It felt good. His lips felt the same as they did on your wedding day. Yes, it was a quick wedding in a courthouse in 1942. Yes, most people thought that you were pregnant, or you were using him for army benefits. But none of it was true. You adored each other. You just couldn’t wait. You were so in love with each other.

“I love you,” you grinned against his lips, the kiss tasting of salty tears, though neither of you cared. 

“I love you too.”

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

[myuntoldstory]

i'll marry you after this

Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Event. Everyone's guessed me right!

A special thanks to @eastwindmlk for the wonderful banner as well.

Prompt 9: Whisper

“I’ll f-fucking marry y-you after this,” James breathes. “You’ve already proposed to me,” she jokes, voice low and devoid of humour. It takes all her effort not to let her focus slip. “N-no, fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I m-mean marry you after t-this. I don’t want to wait. W-we can v-very well die soon and I d-don’t want to d-die without b-becoming your h-husband.”

During a mission, Lily and James find themselves in a noise-activated trap. With James injured and time running out as the Death Eaters close in on them, Lily has to work fast to save her fiancé and get out.

read on ao3 or under the cut

warnings: blood, pain, mild violence, references to dying

“James!”

A whistle, a gasp. Lily stares at the arrow with wide eyes. The head is embedded into the stone where she used to stand. She moves, foot slipping across the small puddle of blood. A loud thump echoes in the room as she falls. Panels open on the walls. She dodges the arrows flying straight at her. Something clicks as the last arrow whistles past her ear. She looks around the room where she and James have jumped in to escape the Death Eaters.

James.

He’s on the floor, teeth gritted, breathing heavily. He seems to be close to screaming. Lily shakes at the sight of him. Panic bubbles from the bottom of her stomach, and she tamps it down. Carefully, quietly, she crawls towards her fiancé, eyes darting at the walls, terrified of anything that’ll trigger it. But thank god, thank god. She reaches for him, pulls him towards her lap.

Blood. So much of it. So much of his life leaking out of him and onto stone. Her breaths come out in strained bursts. Trembling fingertips reach towards the arrow sticking out of his abdomen. She presses her hand around the wound, a futile effort to keep what’s left of him inside—her mind blanks; the four walls around them close in, trapping her, draining all hope.

“Lily—”

“Shh—shh…” she whispers, pressing crimson fingers against his mouth. “Noise… activates…”

James’ eyes flutter and dart around. “O-okay…”

“D-don’t move—”

“Fuck!”

“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She looks closely at how bad he is, how hard she has to fight the fates this time to keep him alive. She bites back a cry. “Oh my god—no, no, it’s f-fine—you’ll be f-fine.”

“C-comforting after that l-little f-freak out...” He musters a pained smile.

“S-shut up.” That’s him trying, but she can’t smile for him. Not this time. “Shut up. It’s deep and poisoned—Christ, James.” She sniffles, pushing back the tears, the panic. “I-I have a fix, but I have to—I’m sorry—I have to pull it out.”

“... I h-have to be q-quiet?”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry—”

“F-fuck it. I-I’m ready.”

“Okay.” She braces herself. It’s like the poison inside him is transferring to her, spreading dread and an unshakeable feeling that they will not survive. Not this time. “Just… deep breath, okay, and keep quiet.”

Lily barely moves, but James hisses. She tenses, but all remains quiet. She pets James’ hair, kisses him. He barely kisses back, lips trembling, all of him shaking—whether from pain or because he’s dying. She doesn’t know—she doesn’t want to. He’ll live. She’ll make sure he fucking does. They’re not dying here. Dying here kills everything they ever fought, sacrificed, and died for, all to keep a man hellbent on destroying everything they loved at bay.

She hears the thundering footsteps of the Death Eaters in the distance. It won’t be long before they find them. If she doesn’t move now, if she keeps hesitating, then they will die here. It won’t matter what she wants. She steels herself, looks down at James, curls her hand into a tight fist and pushes her arm along his lips.

“W-what are you doing?” he murmurs.

“Bite on me.”

“What—”

“Do it, Potter; I’m pulling it out in one go.”

She shoves her arm into his mouth as he protests, at the same time pulling the arrow out in one movement. She grits her teeth, a whimper hissing out as James’ teeth sink past her skin. A quiet, muted grunt escapes him—not loud enough for the trap. They stay still for a few seconds, laboured breaths stuttering out.

Then, she gets to work.

She’s best at non-verbal healing spells, but it takes immense concentration. She stitches the wound, stops the poison from running its course, but she can’t expel it. That’s for the healers at St Mungo’s to deal with. For that to happen, they must get out. Now.

The footsteps thunder closer.

“I’ll f-fucking marry y-you after this,” James breathes.

“You’ve already proposed to me,” she jokes, voice low and devoid of humour. It takes all her effort not to let her focus slip.

“N-no, fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I m-mean marry you after t-this. I don’t want to wait. W-we can v-very well die soon and I d-don’t want to d-die without b-becoming your h-husband.”

“Okay. Marry me.” Tears sting her eyes. “Marry me. Let’s have kids.”

“R-really?”

“You want a son, right?” she grins at him, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’ll give you one.”

“I l-love you so m-much.”

“Don’t,” she grits, not mistaking the tone he let slip. “Don’t you dare.”

James nods, falling silent. They need to escape. She props James against her, looking around. Despite the trap being noise-activated, she can still do magic. An idea occurs to her—risky, but it’s their best chance. And it has to be non-verbal. Doubt makes her pause, but one look at James, and she knows it’s a risk she must take.

Holding him against her, she closes her eyes and concentrates. Two spells—both have to be perfect. She steadies her breath. In a split second, explosions thunder overhead. The panels open, and arrows rain towards its direction. At the same time, she grips James and apparates them out of the trap, leaving a loud crack in its wake.

They land on wet grass—the rendezvous point. Lily on her back, an unconscious James in her arms. There’s noise—horror, joy, alarm, familiar, safe, but it’s all fuzzy. She loses sense of everything. It all converges and crashes on her like a wave, dragging her in the rip, weighing down her lids. Her left arm throbs from James’ bite, pinpoints of pain on her shoulders, extreme heat…

But it’s okay.

They’re now safe with the Order, their friends.

So, she lets darkness overtake her.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I can't make a clip right now because I'm busy and I'll need to edit it down for length, but Slimecicle and Cellbit had an amazing lore conversation and I wanted to share what I transcribed:

Cellbit: I feel like I am being consumed by something too, but it’s different. Maybe it’s not all that bad. Maybe we can sometimes use what’s outside of our control in our favor.

Slime says when things go well, they get taken, and he doesn’t know if that’s because of the Federation, but he knows that thing with him (being taken over by code) started when he saw Flippa again, and that’s the best thing that happened to him in a really long time. He doesn’t want to give any part of that up.

Slime: If that means letting what’s gonna happen happen, maybe you’re right. I hope you find peace with whatever you’re clearly working through. Is there anything I can do to help?

Cellbit: I just- honestly I just- after all these months and everything we tried to do, I’ve just had enough. I’ll be there for you, and I just hope when the time comes, when we need to be together, when we need to fight together, I can count on you too. It’s not about hurting each other, it’s about knowing we need to do what’s necessary. If what happens to you takes you away from us, I will get you back, no matter what I have to do.

Slime: I think we love the same things and if there’s people that want to take that away, they’re gonna have to go through both of us.

Cellbit: And it’s not gonna be easy.

Slime: Maybe with you, but not me.

Cellbit: You’ll know what you’re capable of when you really need to do stuff.

Slime: I’ve never killed someone on purpose.

Cellbit: You should try it sometime.

Slime: I’ll be there for you man.

Cellbit: It’s not about killing random people, it’s about killing people who deserve it.

Slime: Are we still talking about the hypothetical?

Cellbit: If someone tried to take JuanaFlippa away from you, would you do what it takes to get her back?

Slime: [Distorted voice] In a heartbeat.

Cellbit: Then I’ll be by your side to get her back.

Slime: Thanks for talking about this with me, man.

Cellbit: I’ll always be there. When we’re on the same side, the same fight, I’ll always be there.

Slime: Don't forget to enjoy this, today. Cuz if you lose yourself in trying to hurt the people who took it, you might....just don't forget the good stuff, okay?

Cellbit: I can’t. I’ve tried.

[palebluewords]

The Sanctuary

Summary: You've found yourself in the fabled Sanctuary. Now that you are in the wolf's den, what more will you discover?

Part Six of Dead Weight: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

A/N: Phew, it's been a while! I don't know if or when I'll update again, but this is a story I've been circling back to over the past couple years when I've gotten the inspiration and it means a lot to me that anyone's read it. If you've read in the past two years, thank you :)

There was a moment of silence as you took in Michael’s words. He had not only thwarted the witches again, but also isolated you from joining forces with them. Both of you were now beyond their reach. From the smirk on his face, this was the plan all along.

“You son of a bitch!” you roared, letting your control slip. In the skylight, lightning streaked across the night sky, and a bellow of thunder shook the room. Michael quickly steadied himself, relishing in your fury. “They were right there! Why did you-”

“Oh Miss Y/L/N,” he tutted. “Did you really think I would leave you behind? You’re the most valuable export from that hellhole.” Mead, overcoming her shock at her new surroundings, returned to Michael’s side.

“Michael,” she murmured. “What’s so special about Miss Y/L/N that we couldn’t kill her with the others?” Michael regarded her respectfully as he answered.

“I have my reasons, Mead. Right now, we have to prepare our newest addition to the Sanctuary for her introduction tomorrow morning.” You stumbled to your knees, aghast.

“But,” you sputtered. “What about the witches? They’re still looking for you at the Outpost-”

“You’ll forgive me if I'm in no rush to participate in their little last stand,” Michael dismissed your concerns.

“But, you wanted them dead! After everything that’s  happened-”

“They will get what’s coming to them, believe me. But right now, there’s more pressing developments to attend to, now will you please stand up?” Slowly, you rose to your feet, staring him down. Looking at him, you noticed how different he looked now that you had abandoned the harsh lighting of the Outpost. Here, the moonlight made him look ethereal, a ghost who looked through you in the last living garden in the world. You tore your gaze away, chilled.

“What do you plan to do with me?” you asked, voice low. “Because I assure you, you won’t be able to stop me from leaving here.”

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “Drop the theatrics. I left your friends in Outpost Three to waste, the world outside remains ash and dust and God on high still doesn’t want you. There’s nothing for you outside of this Sanctuary.”

“Then why the fuck did you bring me here?!” you spat at him.

“All in due time, but I can assure you it’s not nearly as nefarious as what you’re thinking.”

“This is cheating!” you exclaimed, causing another strike of lightning. “The Outpost…that was supposed to be where everything was settled, you knew that damn well when Cordelia was at the doorstep!” Michael laughed.

“Cheating, Miss Y/L/N, really?” Then, with the controlled force of a conductor, he swung his hand up toward the skylight, and metal paneling came out to cover it up, closing out the view of the storm you had brought on. Now the light was much dimmer, Michael all but a specter against the darkness. “Do you really expect me to play by your rules? You don’t even know what they are. As it happens, the little showdown you and Cordelia had planned for me was merely an inconvenience that I didn’t have time for. I was anxious to return home.” The last word fell out of his mouth awkwardly, tripping you up. Of all the words he could have used for this place, why go for that? 

You shook your head, your frustrations finally taking their toll. What were you even doing anymore? 

Your path has become more and more oblique, with no hope of an end to your mission on earth. Time and time you’ve sought to prove your worth, and you’ve failed. You began to cry.

Michael froze as Mead stepped back, repulsed. You hid your face in your hands, quietly sobbing. Then, with a short roar, you sounded a thunderclap that vibrated through the room. This is what you’re reduced to, wailing in the stronghold of your enemy, your hopes of joining forces with your only allies shattered. You heard Michael shuffle toward Mead before speaking.

“The door out is that way, if you see anyone, ask for Josephine and tell her I’m here.”

“Michael,” Mead prodded. “Are you alright with this one?”

A pause before his answer. “Of course I am, just get Josephine and this will all be taken care of.” Mead stayed a moment, before finally obeying her orders and quitting the room. You wiped your eyes, useless creature you were.

“Oh,” Michael’s voice taunted you. “Come now, angel. How is this going to solve your problems?”

“Damn you,” you seethed. “I was supposed to be with them! I was there to help them beat you and you ruined it.”

“If it’s any comfort,” Michael lilted. “You could never have won. Cordelia was never any match for me, why do you think she never tried to take me head on herself?” Hearing him say this made you halt your crying, having remembered all the cards in your hand.

“Not just Cordelia,” you sniffled, your voice clear and low.

“I’m sure she had all the other remains of her coven along for the ride as well,” Michael said dismissively. “But it still doesn’t matter. They’re all easy pickings to me. I would have destroyed them just as I did the rest.” You lifted your head, your eyes staring vacantly up at him. 

“Of course,” you said. “I remember.” Then, adding before Michael could ask. “I was there, you know. When you attacked Miss Robichaux’s academy. I escaped with Cordelia. I felt you there.” Another pause. You couldn’t see Michael’s face in the dark, but you could guess he was keeping his guard up as he took this in.

“You really are her friend, then,” you could picture the smirk playing on his lips. “And you kept it to yourself so well. I guess it makes sense now, I suppose I felt you too that day. I felt something...unpleasant. Of course, I didn’t realize it was you then. It’s a shame you took off, it would have been a delight to meet you in the waking world then.” You scoffed. “Alright then, who else managed to leave with you? I can’t quite remember who all I did away with that day.” This comment made your lip curl in disgust.

“Oh you know,” you said. “There was Myrtle, and Madison, who I know you’ve met. And these other two witches who were fairly newer. Coco and Mallory were their names.” You smiled at him. “One of them was going to be the next Supreme, you know. How convenient that you took off, giving her all the more time to build her powers.”

Dead silence. You couldn’t help but chuckle at what you’ve dropped on him. Serves him right for walking out on his own reckoning. He has to miss out on all the revelations that come with it. Finally, he spoke again.

“I suppose I’ve come to accept that you’re going to keep surprising me,” he said slowly. “But to think that Cordelia managed to fool me…and Coco Vanderbilt of all people-!” Was he actually…embarrassed? You were fully grinning now.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think the ruse was intentional on her part. I think Cordelia wiped their memories before the apocalypse…but yes, you had a very powerful Supreme under your nose, and now you’ve left her behind to continue to plan your downfall. Scary, isn’t it?” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “And to think, you could’ve eliminated that threat this whole time, but I guess I was just too interesting, wasn’t I?”

“Angel,” Michael seethed at you. “As troubling as you want this news to be, I’m not changing course. If your witch friends still want me, let them try and find me again. Until then, make yourself comfortable.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed. “If you really think that I’m going to just sit here-” The door to the garden reopened, letting the outside light break inside of it. In stepped Ms.Mead, trailing behind a tall and slender woman. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose braid that fell over her shoulder, and she wore a light blue nightgown. She looked between the two of you, the sleep falling away from her eyes, confusion taking its place.

“Michael,” she whispered, a slight accent on her voice. “Is this-?”

“Josephine!” Michael greeted, immediately painting a smile on his face. “How good to see you again. This is Y/N Y/L/N of Outpost Three.” He took you by your shoulders- you flinched at his touch, but the fabric of your dress protected you from any real sting- and walked you over to them. “Our newest neighbor. Would you be so kind as to show her to one of the empty rooms? Preferably one of the ones in the west side of the facilities.”

“O-of course!” she responded, looking at you with wide eyes. Michael stopped just at her side to give his last order.

“Oh, and when you’re done: fetch de Flores and tell him we need to speak. It’s most urgent.” Josephine nodded, and he walked off. You watched him as he disappeared down the hall.

               With that, Josephine hurried you through the halls of the Sanctuary. You were equal parts impressed and disgusted by the marble walls and pillars. The bright white, in contrast to the dim yellow of the outpost, was both refreshing and blinding.

       Eventually, you were ushered into a bedroom, one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen. If not for the lack of windows, it would have been indistinguishable from a bedroom in a palace. In lieu of windows, however, were detailed paintings that looked to be of Renaissance persuasion.

    "I believe these are one of the more special rooms," Josephine remarked as she scurried out. "Congratulations. Make yourself at home." Hearing that word made the hairs of your neck stand. With that, she was gone.

      You took in the room. The fully furnished sitting area, the four-poster king bed, and the biblical painting of Adam and Eve in the wall all made you want to vomit. What a hell you've placed yourself in, and worse yet, you know you've only scratched the surface of it. You were in completely uncharted waters, and on Michael's terms.

You could not stay here. You resolved to go at that moment. Whatever was outside the Sanctuary was outside Michael’s reach also. You would rather wander the scourged earth haplessly than live under Michael’s watchful eye, waiting for the board to move again. You sat on your plush bed, and used your powers to lose an hour. You blinked once it was done, then changed out of the Purple dress. As unideal as the white nightgown laid out on your bed was, the purple dress was ten times worse for moving around. You stripped off the dress, put on the nightgown, and then put the purple jacket over it to feel less exposed. Then, you set out into the Sanctuary to find an escape.

The place seemed even more like a maze without Josephine to guide you through it. You mused that if Gabriel was here, he could use the angelic omniscience that you still lacked to chart a course out. Alas, you were still of that different, lesser make. You would have to search on foot.

A fruitless endeavor. The grand halls seemed to swallow you immediately, the bright lights teasing you around every corner. You passed the supposed ballroom what seemed to be a dozen times. You saw the ceiling in it and thought it must stretch for miles.  Painting after painting seemed to repeat so much that soon enough they started to blend together. Every time you thought you were trying a new path, you found yourself in the same godforsaken hallway outside the ballroom. Eventually, you couldn’t take the circles anymore, and walked inside, looking for any other paths to take. At the far end, you saw a set of double doors and scampered over to them. You pushed them open, and found an empty kitchen.

Empty, except for a teenage girl and small boy sat up on the counters with food in their hands. Their heads snapped toward you, the girl assuming a defensive demeanor at the sight of you. She looked you up and down, evaluating you.

“Are you the newcomer?” You steeled yourself against the door.

“Yes, I am,” you looked around, searching for an excuse for being here. “I stepped out of my room and couldn’t find my way back.” The boy looked at you impassively, neither believing nor disbelieving, he just looked right through you.

“What part are you in?” the girl asked you, still watching you closely.

“The west part?”

“Back out the large arches, take a right, you’ll find it among all the doors.” She stared at you, silently commanding you to leave. You bowed your head, desperate to get away from her cold gaze.

“Thank you,” you stumbled out of the kitchen, beelining in the direction she told you to go. Who was that?! You're stomach turned, a sensation you'd only experienced in the past because of Michael. There was something in the coldness of her gaze... Good or bad, it wasn’t natural. As you crossed the ballroom again, you saw Michael's shadow dance against the hallway walls. As you entered, you saw him walking toward you.

"Michael-" you began.

"To bed, angel," he dismissed you. "Nothing for you to do now. You should get your rest." 

“Are you doing this?” You asked. “With the hallways? I’ve never been lost like this.”

“Could be the sleep deprivation,” but as he smirked, you knew your true answer. “Goodnight, now.” And with that, he turned and walked away from you. Without thinking, you spat at his back as he walked by you. He only chuckled. "Yes, better get some sleep." You watched him disappear around a corner and huffed. You knew how to go nowhere but back in the direction of your room. A bird in its gilded cage. Very well. To bed, then.

You enchanted your door behind you and fell asleep in your comically large bed. You dreamt of the garden and the stars you hadn’t seen in so long.

---

The next morning, you awoke to a gentle knock on your door. You knew immediately that whoever it was, it wasn’t Michael. Nausea induced by his presence aside, he would have had a much grander way of making himself known. Adjusting your nightgown, you opened the door to Josephine.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted curtly.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Josephine, how can I help you-”

“Mr. Langdon wanted to ensure that you didn’t miss breakfast,” she interrupted. “He was very adamant that you meet some of the others.”

“Others,” you repeated. “How many other people are living here?”

“On this level or in the whole Sanctuary?” She took your stunned look as answer enough. “Throughout the complex are two-thousand people. Mr. Langdon has appointed leaders to multiple units of the Sanctuary to oversee their goings-ons. Beyond the facilities we have multiple radiation-controlled cities in-progress  that we are using to rehabilitate those out there who survived the nuclear blast. Those are currently at six-thousand, with more arriving every day. In our unit, the Eden unit, we have two-hundred. Mr. Langdon oversees this unit.”

“That’s…quite an operation.”

“Mr. Langdon is a dedicated man,” she shrugged. “Will you join us?” You thought for a moment. So far, everyone you’ve met seems oblivious to who Michael is, or at the very least accepting of it. You had to wonder what Michael’s aim is to pack this place full of seemingly harmless people. What did he want with them?

“I will,” you answered. “Just give me a moment to get ready.” You closed the door. After freshening yourself, you searched the wardrobe of the room.

You would only be a little embarrassed to admit to the sigh of relief you breathed when you saw a selection of clothes beyond the Victorian era and the purple monochrome. The clothes here were normal. The range was casual to formal and modern day to items that couldn’t be associated with fashions earlier than the 1960s. Whatever Michael was up to here, it at least wasn’t playing period dress up with human dolls. You wondered if it was so he could stand out more, with his bold makeup and clothing. A wolf among the sheep.

You settled on a flowing white top and a pair of flared- would you believe it- jeans. You reopened the door to Josephine, finally taking to note her own beige maxi skirt and brown sweater. Almost like being in the real world again. “Ready.”

Some of the hallways Josephine took you down were all too familiar from your accursed walk the night before. You felt yourself tense as you remembered how Michael’s magics had disoriented you. Today, you could make out the twists of the halls perfectly, assuring you he had let his little hexes fade. The halls also didn’t hold the same foreboding energies as before. Along the ceilings so you could see little skylights letting sunlight in. None of them were so grand as the one in the garden, but you relished in seeing the blue of the morning sky again.

Finally, Josephine brought you to a large set of doors. “I hope you’re awake by now,” she muttered, as she lifted the giant knockers and slammed them three times before opening them. “Look sharp.” Your eyes widened at the site.

A sea of two-hundred faces, all sat at long feast tables, all turned to look at you. Stupefied, you looked around. You saw a litany of groups and families and couples sat together, looking at you as the strange new outsider. What kind of place was this? At the back of the room, you could make out the outline of Michael’s form, sitting at a head table, with Mead’s dark figure sat at his side. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and you could see he was wearing a plain, white shirt with billowing sleeves. A far cry from the Outpost regalia. You could tell he was looking at you, and you just knew he was smiling. After a moment, he rose.

“My friends in Eden,” he boomed. “As you all know I have been on an expedition to our smaller outposts to rescue the survivors housed there. It was to my dismay that I found them all overrun and destroyed.” Hearing this, you remember the smile on his face when he had told your fellow survivors at Outpost Three the same news. “But I found hope in my last stop, one person who could live with us in our Sanctuary and join us in rebuilding the earth. An exceptional and compassionate young woman whose heart, like all of ours, longs for the world before the nuclear winter, a most excellent addition to our mission. Let us all welcome our newcomer, the lone survivor of Outpost Three, and all other outposts, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!” With this, you were enveloped in thunderous applause.

“Lone survivor?” you asked Josephine.

“What else would you call it?” she asked you. “Come, he wants you at the front table.” With that, she led you across the sea of well-wishers, all smiling kindly at you. Michael stared at you the whole way. It felt like an eternity before you were finally standing before him, feeling like an animal being sold to the slaughterhouse.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Michael greeted you. “I’m so glad you could join us.” Your eyes grazed over the rest of the table. From the right of him, you could see Josephine going to take a seat, as well as a little girl next to them, beaming at you. To his left, you saw two empty seats,  next to them a woman dressed in bright greens and yellows, and a large man dressed in a simple plaid shirt. Meanwhile, Mead stood behind Michael’s chair, not even bothering to pretend to eat.

“I didn’t know that I could refuse,” you said. At this, the unnamed man chuckled, and the brightly dressed woman smiled at you.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint us with your wit,” Michael continued, unfazed. “Do come and sit, your food is coming soon.” A moment passed, and you realized that he meant for you to sit next to him.

“I don’t know that I’m hungry,” you told him.

“But of course,” he said with complete ease.. “How could you ever find your appetite after those cubes in the outpost? But this food is real, I must insist you indulge yourself.” Seeing there was no tactical way to make him relent, you climbed the platform step and sat yourself next to him. Your companions to your right were quick to introduce themselves to you.

“Glad to have you,” grunted the man in plaid. “The name is Roger Richards. I’m the unit planner for the Sanctuary. I design the infrastructure.” You inclined your head.

“So you designed these skylights?” you asked. He nodded. “They’re wonderful.” His eyes glittered with pride.

“They’re actually pretty basic in design,” he said. “I just thought that these people would need some sunlight.”

“Roger loves to be modest,” tittered the woman next to him. “I’m Phoebe, I’m the overseer of agriculture. I heard from Langdon you tried one of our apples already?” Your stomach crawled at the memory of the poison coursing through you. You forced on a weak smile.

“Oh yes,” you said. “It was such a relief to have a taste of the world before.”

“Well,” she smiled. “Then you will like the Sanctuary.” At this, you couldn’t force yourself to agree. So you smiled again, and pretended to turn your focus to the food you had no stomach for. Your gaze kept flicking to Michael next to you, happily digging into his breakfast. You wanted to smack the cutlery out of his hands.

“Josephine is Head of Operations,” he said without looking at you. “She sees all of the in-between and nitty gritty of the Sanctuary. She also oversees the nursery.”

“Who’s the little one?” You asked him, stomach churning while looking at the painfully oblivious little girl.

“Rebecca, she’s a rescue. Are you going to eat?”

“I told you,” you said. “I’m not hungry. What do you mean ‘rescue’?”

“She’s a survivor from the nuclear wastelands,” he told you. “An orphan from the fallout. Now she sits as a symbol of hope for us all. Isn’t that inspiring?”

“Hope,” you repeated, too tired to laugh at the suggestion. “Just what kind of a sick game are you playing with these people?”

“All in due time, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to spoil it too early.” Then his gaze flitted to a man approaching the table, dressed in black robes. Your heart leapt a moment, mistaking it for Satanic attire. Once your panic subsided, you looked closer and realized with dread that rather than the anarchic black and red of the Satanists, this man donned a familiar vestment of black and white… he couldn’t be…

“Ah,” Michael smiled. “Father de Flores, good morning.” You looked at Michael in shock. “This is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Of course,” said de Flores. “It is my pleasure to meet you at last.” You opened your mouth to speak, to scream, anything to warn this man of the demon in his midst. Michael clamped his hand on your shoulder, purposefully grazing a finger over some exposed skin on the nape of your neck. The sting of his touch was enough to shut you up. You could only nod as the man took his seat next to you.

Michael removed his hand, and you watched as he flexed his fingers in pain. A moment invisible to all but you. He lifted his eyes to meet your accusing gaze.

“Oh angel,” he whispered the nickname for only you to hear, before speaking again at full volume. “You really must see the chapel that Richards designed. It is truly something to behold.”

[dollywony]

hi girly!! I absolutely loved your yandere miles fairchild fic and I was wondering if you could write another one?

maybe where the reader (female) is a dancer and has been getting letters in her dance bag from a mysterious secret admirer (being miles) who only signs his letters using M.F. or something like that. maybe the reader then gets freaked out because he starts threatening her saying that he knows where she lives and gets really specific on things that only she would know. then maybe when she is asleep in her apartment one night he finally goes to take action and takes her with him. maybe reader wakes up because miles is caressing her face (like he did with kate in the movie) and she wakes up and he confesses who he is and then takes her?

I know this is very specific, and if you can get to this great but if not then don't worry about it.

meant to be - m.f

pairing(s): miles x reader

summary: your secret admirer took the first step in confessing, but you wanted nothing to do with him.

a/n: hey babe ty for requesting!! 💕💕💐 + sorry 4 making you wait!! ☹️☹️

wc: 1.4k+

It's now eight at night and you're beyond tired. Dancing constantly nonstop exhausts your body, but you need something to take your mind off what was going on. The whole situation was creeping you out. The letters you would find after packing was the cherry on top in making you hurl. The one from yesterday was the worst so far.

To the angel of my dreams,

Y/n, you don’t know how much I wanted to fucking kill that man for even talking to you. To make matters worse, you basically threw yourself onto him even after he hurt you. Do you know how much that hurts? Seeing you being unloyal to me. Y/n i'm on my last straw. I know everything about you, yet you seem unfazed. Why is that? Is it because you don't believe me? Is It because you don't believe I'll do anything to you? Believe me doll, i dont want to but youre making it so fucking hard.

You live in apartment complex #127. The pin number is 6250. Don't even bother changing it love, it takes four days for your complaint to actually be dealt with. You know, I still have the paperclip you gave to me that day. It's my best possession.

You drive me crazy darling. Spritzing your miss dior perfume that you received from your sister on christmas daily. It's almost empty though, maybe I'll get you another one.

Your laugh, your emotions, fuck your everything is so worth every penny i hold to my name. You’ll be mine one way or another.

Yours devotedly and lovingly,

M.F

You didn’t even reread that letter, discarding it the moment you were done reading it. Who even was M.F? What did he want? More importantly how the did he know any fucking thing he shouldnt know about you?

It was hard to even try and pinpoint who M.F was. You were in school during the day and as soon as it finished, you would go to the studio. In the studio you would dance and dance until you felt as if your legs were going to break. By the time you would get home, you would instantly pass out. Sometimes it would range through ten to twelve.

Looking through your bag, you discovered the letter he left today. As you tore open the envelope you unfolded the paper.

You were confused. Why did the letter just say today? It was written horribly too, as if he was in a rush. Instead of his usual neat calligraphy, the word was contorted and out of line.

Did he mean he's going to do something today or did he mean today as if he was stopping all letters to you from today? You hoped it was the latter. Crumpling up the letter in your hand, you were wary that he would pop up anywhere. Who knows maybe he was following you right now. Maybe he was in the dance studio with you.

You felt uncomfortable. There was this weird, cold feeling that shot down your body. Your eyes looked at every crevice but you couldn’t find a hint of anyone hiding.

Sighing you finished packing your bag and got up to finally go home. You were tired. Tired of whoever M.F was. Tired of his sick, scary letters.

Getting out of the taxi, you were finally home. Walking up the stairs, you greeted mrs. Abbott next door. She was awfully sweet, always making the best cookies.

“Hi dearie!” She cheered, grinning widely at you. “Hi Mrs. Abbott, how are you?” You replied, sending the grin back. “Oh I'm doing quite well! How about you?” she questioned. “Oh I'm about to go to bed soon, have a goodnight!” you finished with a chuckle. “Alright sweetie! Have a good sleep!” you hear her say as you fumble to get your keys out.

Opening your door, you threw your bag down near your desk. Stumbling towards your bathroom, you couldn’t help but think why M.F had such an infatuation with you. It made your head hurt.

Stepping in your shower, you were quick to clean up. Wanting the day to finally be over, you were more than eager to help. Getting the covers over your body, you swiftly fell asleep unaware of the pair of eyes that emerged from underneath your bed.

Fast asleep, Miles crawled out from under your bed sighing. Seeing you sleep was even prettier up close. He thought, approaching your unconscious figure. Slowly sitting down on your bed trying not to wake you, he let his hand stroke your hair. Your hair was so pretty just like you.

Miles’s grin grew as he envisioned you in his bed as he protected you just like this. Well maybe he didn’t help you, but he felt like he was protecting you. Grabbing your hand, he interlocked it with his. Miles couldn't think of anything that made him happier than this.

Leaning in, he let loose of your hair going to caress your face. As his hand came in contact with your face, he felt euphoric. The feeling of your soft, delicate skin with his hand was so much and more for him. Miles closed his eyes and continued to caress. Being this close with you, even touching your skin made him ecstatic.

Waking up, you feel this sensation on your right cheek. Widening your eyes, you realized someone other than you was here. You see a boy with furious curls sitting next to you. He was rather good looking but that thought left your soul the moment you realized he was touching you.

“Fuck! Get off me!” You shrieked as you shoved the mysterious man off your bed. He grunts as he hits the floor. “Who are you?” You screeched, getting up to get your phone but he had grabbed your ankle making you fall face plant onto the floor.

“Not so fast Angel.” His voice, jagged and raspy, came out. “I need to tell you something.”

“What do you mean tell me something! You freak leave!” You wailed out, distressed from who this man was.

Ignoring your words, he stood up, grabbing you by your wrist and forcefully laid you down on your bed once again. Terrified, thoughts ran through your head trying to piece who this man was. Was he just your typical robber? Or was he here to kill you? Or worse. Was he M.F? Fuck what if he was? What would you even do?

Feeling the presence of the man above you snapped you out of your thoughts. “I know you’re worried. I know you’re scared. In fact, I know everything about you Y/n. You're so pretty and nice and kind.. Fuck. I love you. I love you Y/n.” he blabbered, holding eye contact with you.

“Who are you?” you questioned again, needing an answer right away. You were on edge. What if he was actually M.F? “Darling, i knew you were a bit stupid but this is rather severe.” he chuckled, dragging his finger along your cheek affectionately.

Just as you were going to ask him the question again, he cut you off. “Y/n have you ever wondered what M.F stood for?” he said, getting off you slowly walking around your room. Before you could even answer, he continued on. “M.F, it's rather peculiar you know? Why would he even know that much about you? It's creepy and weird.” Shaking your head in slight agreement, the man had a growing smile.

“Well Y/n, I am M.F. I am Miles Fairchild. I am the man who sends you creepy little letters. The very letters you throw out daily but it doesn’t matter. I know you’ll love me back. Reading my letters instead of instantly throwing them out was a sign that I knew. I knew you were the one. Y/n I love you so much.” The admiration was oozing from his mouth.

Not responding, Miles took this as a cue to step closer to you. “I’m really really sorry Y/n.” He said, shuffling around to take something out of his pocket. “You’re sorry for wh-“ you questioned but got cut off as miles hit the back of your neck, knocking you out.

“So sorry Angel, really.” Miles muttered as he dragged your body out to his car. Shutting his car door, he turned the radio on. Humming along with the tune of the song, he turned to your unconscious figure and smiled.

He was happy for once. He was sure he’d make you happy too.

[viarayy01-blog]

Guide to Parenting - fnaf fic

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50957647

something i wrote to pass the time! - enjoy!!

-x-x-x-

Roxy leaned in closer to the book, attempting to read the words lining the page. “Wait.. say it one more time?” She turned to Freddy, extremely confused. “I'll reread it again. Ehem…” Freddy cleared his throat and scanned the book pages. “To be a good parent, you must always be monitoring your children. If they seem suspicious, then that means they are doing something inherently wrong, and 110% dangerous. If they keep secrets, or hide things from you, they are going to rebel sooner or later. We don’t want that, do we?” Freddy paused and waited for Roxy’s response. “We…don’t?” Freddy gave her an encouraging look, and continued reading, “All you have to do is remember this simple acronym. A.P.P.L.E. Assess, Prod, Punish, Last chance, and… Execute?” Roxy’s confused expression did not falter, even after a second read.

“Execute? Like kill them?” Her voice started to rise. “Are you saying we have to kill the kids?” Roxy became flustered and angry, attacking Gregory was one thing, a thing he completely deserved, but why would she ever harm Cassie?

“No…” Freddy replied quickly, sensing Roxy’s worriedness. “Perhaps it means to execute the previously stated retribution. Such as, following through with the punishment. Still.. what a strange way to put it.” He trailed off, deep in his own thoughts.

“So.. we have to always watch them, and stop them if they act suspicious in any sort of way? There’s not even any danger at the apartment, aside from that security guard.” She smiled to herself, and Freddy sighed, slightly amused.

“Officer Van-…” he paused. “I mean, Vanessa would never hurt the kids, you know that Roxane.” She scoffed.

“Whatever, just keep reading.” She said irritably and waited for Freddy to continue.

After reading for 20 or so minutes more, they closed the book and tried to figure out what to do next. “Perhaps,” Freddy began, “we should go use our knowledge and test ourselves on what we’ve learned!”

“Alright!” Roxy exclaimed. “Ill deal with Cassie obviously, and you’ll take care of..” she paused and let out a mocking sigh. “Gregory.” Freddy smiled and they went to each of the kids' respective areas in the apartment.

The apartment had 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, and a joint kitchen / living room area. Vanessa’s room was completely off limits, it was where she monitored M.X.E.S and kept an eye on all things that happened at the Pizzaplex. Her walls were a dark grey. The kids bedroom was painted blue, since before Cassie arrived, Gregory had the room all to himself. The room was covered in Gregory’s drawings, mostly of strange and twisted events occurring to Vanny and Freddy respectively. One even depicted a strange rotting corpse in a bunny suit and a huge amalgamation of wires with loose animatronic heads. On Cassie's side of the room was a huge poster of a cartoon she liked and a few Roxane drawings that Gregory had drawn for her. On each of the kids bed’s were a wide array of stuffed animals. Gregory had a Freddy and Sundrop set, while Cassie had a Roxane and Chica pair. A Monty plush sat on the single desk placed in front of Cassie's bed.

Usually, the animatronics would recharge in the living room or rest in the car, which was where they got their main energy supply. Vanessa would go out every week to get a full tank of gas so that the car had enough energy to recharge Freddy and help with some of Roxy’s repairs. Right now she was out of the house, going to pick up groceries. Freddy was in charge while she was gone, and Roxy served as his only way to get anything done, due to the fact he was only a head.

Roxy picked up Freddy and brought him to Gregory, who was typing on his computer in the bedroom. Gregory looked up from his work, somewhat startled by the sudden presence of two robots. He saw Freddy and relaxed his shoulders. He looked up further to Roxy, who growled at him before storming off. He giggled and then returned his attention to Freddy.

“What’s up, Superstar?” Freddy tried to get a better look at the laptop Gregory was typing on. Gregory tensed up once again and clicked a few times, his hands moving swiftly across his laptop.

“Everything ok, Gregory? Why do you look so nervous?” Gregory tried to keep a smile on his face.

“Nothings wrong! I'm just showing you what I'm working on!” He motioned to the screen. It had a huge line of text covering it, and at the top of the tab the document was called, ‘Practice Code’. Nothing seemed too suspicious. Freddy remembered what he had read, and prepared to dig deeper into what was really going on.

“Is this for the lessons Vanessa has been giving you, Superstar?” Gregory loosened a bit, and then nodded.

“She wants me to help her when she goes to the Plex next, I have to be able to stay in the car while she goes and assess the M.X.E.S. module. It’s a lot to learn, even if I had been really good at coding before she gave me lessons.” Freddy looked over the page again, it was a simple code line that was mainly used for a debug command. Gregory may have only been experienced in coding games and more so hacking, but he was still exceptional at learning new things. “It looks great,Superstar. I'm sure Vanessa will be proud of your work.”

Gregory smiled, tilted his head and turned the laptop back towards him. “Thanks, Freddy.” He quickly tapped a few more times on his mousepad before his face turned stone cold and he began to type. What was he really working on?

__ __ __

Roxy knocked on the bathroom door. “Come in!” said Cassie, who had her hands full of makeup brushes and pallets. “Cassie? What are you doing?” Cassie turned her head away from the door, obviously hiding something. “No! Don’t look!” The bathroom was a disaster. Different colors of eyeshadow were sprawled across the mirror and counter, chunks of lipstick and loose blush were caked in the sink, somewhat clogging the drain.

“Cassie.” Roxy said sternly “I cannot see anyway.” A silence followed.

“Oh. Right.” Cassie said, sheepishly turning around to face her. Roxy felt around the bathroom, trying to find a wall to lean up against. Her hands found a towel, which she placed on the floor for her to sit on, so her rough wires and exterior wouldn’t scratch the tiles or wall.

“What’s wrong? Explain to me what you're even doing, I can only hear so much.” Cassie sighed and sat next to Roxy.

“I was putting makeup on. Again. But…” She was quiet for a second before she, unprompted, started to cry. “It looks nothing like how I wanted.” She sniffed. Roxy, startled, tried to remember the A.P.P.L.E. acronym from earlier. Her heart swelled with confidence, she was going to make everything perfect.

“So uh… to ASSESS the situation better, why don’t you explain exactly what happened.” Wow.. Roxy thought to herself, I really am the best! If she kept up at this pace with this much ease, she wouldn’t even have to get to the end of the acronym.

Cassie wiped her face, her sleeve becoming stained with mascara and eyeshadow. “Okay… it all started when I found a picture of Vanessa in her nightstand drawer.”

__ __ __

Freddy had assessed the situation, but now he had to dig deeper. “Uh.. Gregory..” He started, trying to organize his thoughts. “I think that I should go through your laptop.” Gregory stopped typing, staring blankly into his computer.

“Huh.” Gregory slowly turned his head to meet Freddy, his face completely deadpan. “What do you mean? You just wanna look at the outside?” Sweat beads formed on Gregory’s forehead.

“No, I mean I want to go THROUGH your computer.” Nothing. Gregory did not change his facial formation. “Such as the files and documents. Is that a problem?” Freddy hadn’t seen Gregory so dogdey since he had taken Roxy’s eyes, he must be hiding something for sure.

Freddy opened a hatch under his ear, and a usb drive slowly whirred out. Freddy motioned to the laptop with his eyes, waiting for the computer to be plugged in.

“I…uh… I don’t want to.” Gregory said, voice wavering. “My laptop is for me and me only.” Freddy’s eyes widened. Backlash. Gregory had always been stubborn, but he usually obeyed what Freddy asked of him. He thought back to the next letter from the book. Punish. This was going to be difficult.

“Gregory, I don’t want to force you to do this, but I think its in your best interest if I go through everything on your laptop. It’s for your safety. I don’t want to take your laptop from you, but you can’t just outright say no. I’m in charge, remember?”

Gregory drew his eyebrows together, his stone cold gaze becoming dagger-like. “How are you gonna take it from me?” He said defensively, holding the laptop close to his chest. “You don’t even have arms to grab it with!”

Freddy gasped and let his eyes go wide. “What a rude thing to say! Superstar. This is your LAST CHANCE. Plug the computer in, or I'll call Vanessa and tell her how you’ve been behaving. This is your final warning.”

Gregory’s face dropped a little. He was so looking forward to going to the Plex with Vanessa. He wanted nothing more than to help, to fix all the hurt he caused when he was originally trapped at the mall. Instead of feeling scared or sad though, Gregory got angry.

__ __ __

Roxy couldn’t believe what she just heard. “You went in Vanessa’s room?? Why were you in there?” As much as Roxy disliked her former security guard, she understood wanting to have her own space.

After all, it was in her bedroom that Roxy was able to get all her feelings out, no matter how messy they were.

What else might have Cassie seen in her room? Disturbing files? Secrets? What if Cassie was fascinated with Vanessa now, and she didn’t like Roxy anymore? Roxy immediately spearheaded herself deeper.

“I don’t know… we were talking and she said something about…uhh…” She got a bit nervous about mentioning the Vanni mask, so she quickly found an alternative. “about … makeup! Yeah… makeup.” She managed to catch herself. “So I wanted to see what other makeup stuff I could find in there. But I didn’t find much, just this photo of Ness with a girl. They look around the same age.” She pulled out the photo. “They’re holding hands and leaning next to each other. I really liked the girl’s makeup, so I wanted to surprise Ness with a re-do of it myself. But, I'm not very good, and I made a mess in the bathroom. She’s been working hard at the Plex to make things right, I just wanted to do something nice for her.” She had stopped crying, but looked genuinely sad.

Roxy sat quietly with Cassie for a moment. Her thoughts quickly jumped around. Screw this stupid system. She doesn’t need a strict parent. She needs a good role model. She needs advice. Roxy pulled Cassie's hand away from her face, where she had continued to rub her makeup off.

“Listen Cassie. I understand that you wanted to do something nice for…Vanessa. But you know better than to go snooping around. You might have found something Vanessa didn’t want you to see. Something about her past she would rather keep away. I’m sure she would’ve loved to see your makeup anyway, but how about doing something else nice for her instead?” Cassie looked up at Roxy, with a look of thanks and relief.

“Okay. What could I do for her then? I don’t know what she likes to eat, otherwise we could make her something. Or maybe she would like a drawing!” Roxy looked deep in thought too, but suddenly a loud noise came from the bedroom.

“What was that?” Cassie asked. Roxy peered her head out the door, it seemed to be an argument. She stood up.

“Let’s go see… stay behind me okay?” Cassie nodded and helped Roxy up, pulling her up by her hand.

“Superstar! I warned you! I have to EXECUTE this procedure!” Freddy had extended the usb drive all the way to the computer, clicking it into place and locking it. Gregory tried to pull the USB out, tugging as hard as he could.

“No! You can’t see what’s on here! It’s MY laptop! Let go!!” Roxy burst through the door, slamming it against the wall, startling not only her but everyone else. The sounds of Gregory trying to pull his computer away from Freddy did not waver or stop.

“What is going on here!? You're scaring Cassie!” Cassie snuck around Roxy’s legs, diving between them and bolting into the room. She came between the two and tried to pull Gregory’s hands away from the computer.

“Gregory! What are you doing? Just let go!” She tugged his hands away, and pushed him away from the laptop. He stumbled a bit, running into his bed before tripping and falling back.

“Gregory! Are you okay?” Freddy called out, worried. Cassie placed the computer next to Freddy on the desk, and went to help Gregory.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to push you that far. You just wouldn’t let go!” Gregory shook his head and stood up.

“It’s not your fault Cassie, I got carried away.” He turned to Freddy, who while looking concerned also looked somewhat far away. He was analyzing the files.

“Freddy, its not what it looks like.” He quickly turned to Cassie, bracing for impact. His eyes grew wide and worried, and he mouthed out words to help get his point across. She in turn looked very worried.

“What happened? Someone tell me what’s going on?” Roxy was tapping the doorframe, trying to find a safe space to stand where she wouldn’t knock anything over.

Freddy had finished. He blinked a few times before removing the USB from the laptop, pulling it out with force. “Gregory..” His eyes readjusted into place, pinning his focus on Gregory. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

The laptop screen was covered in blueprints. There were photos of each animatronic, not just Roxy and Freddy, in each corner of the screen. Detailed instructions and directions were typed along the edges.

Cassie pulled Roxy into the room, and then returned to Gregory’s side.

“Sigh.. It was supposed to be a surprise, Freddy.” Cassie said guiltily. “We were working so hard to get it all done for you, before you caught on.” Gregory shuffled beside her.

“I wanted to find some way to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I feel like I always get everyone into trouble, and never get them out. I was trying to figure out a way to save all the other animatronics from the PizzaPlex, so that Ness and I could repair their AI and hardware. So that they could be free from the virus.” He turned to his side.

“Cassie was helping me out, since she only got out of the Plex recently. She said she found someone, another animatronic, in a hidden room. She said she found Bonnie.”

Freddy was in shock. He felt so much relief over what he found, but so much distrust, too. Bonnie? It had been forever since he had heard someone else talk about him. Not even Roxy mentioned him anymore.

“Is this true, Cassie?” Roxy said from behind her. She looked so hopeful.

“Yeah.. we were going to get Chica first, then Sun— I mean… Eclipse, and Monty.”

“That’s why Vanessa has been at the Plex so much recently, she’s been trying to find the Mimic, and keep it away while I go in to lure everyone out. Once everyone was fixed, then Monty could go get Bonnie from behind the bowling alley. We were going to save everyone. And fix them. Fix you and Roxy too.”

“Superstar…this..” Freddy tried to find the words. “Thank you. I’m sorry for trying to invade your personal space. I should have never trusted that book. ” Gregory looked a bit surprised.

“What book?” He said, narrowing his eyebrows.

— — — —

Pulling the book up on her lap, Cassie read the cover. “A Guide to Parenting, by Fazbear Entertainment.” Her nose scrunched. “The Fazbear company wrote this?” She flipped through the pages, landing on the one Roxy and Freddy had been reading.

Gregory leaned in closer, resting his hand on Cassies shoulder. “The A.P.P.L.E. acronym, huh? Yeah, I remember seeing this before.” He flipped ahead a couple of pages, scanning the letters that lined them. “This is what they train all their employees off of, majority of them are parents or take care of kids majority of the day, so they're required to read this book. I always thought the ending of it was weirdly violent?” He leaned in closer, seeming to be looking for something. “Still, standard Fazbear Entertainment behavior.”

After flipping through a few pages more, the group landed on a section with detailed spring lock suit failure instructions, including a drawing that was painted on the pages. It was very gorey, to say the least. “Ohhh kay.” Cassie slammed the book shut, somewhat bewildered. “Enough of that.”

Gregory took the book from her, placing it on the coffee table. “Yeah, I don’t think that is the book that anyone should base their parenting off of.” Gregory said with a smile. His gaze ever so slightly shifted over to Freddy. Cassie slid off of the armchair and brushed off her shorts, turning to face the group.

“I think we should clean up before Ness gets home. There’s nothing better than coming home to a clean house.” She fiddled with the cuff of her shirt, someone complacent. “Plus…I don’t think she’ll like how much of a mess I made in the bathroom.” She giggled.

After cleaning up the bathroom and the rest of the house, Cassie and Gregory were sent to their rooms.

Even though everything had still worked out, they couldn’t get off scot-free. They each broke a rule, and for that they would be grounded for a week.

Their spirits were still high though, and when Ness got home, she went to her room to find a book on her bed. There was a loose paper sticking out, its edges just barely visible. She opened the book to the outstretching paper.

It was a drawing, done by Gregory. It was of Gregory and Cassie, holding a red heart with pink letters inside that said; “Thanks! :)” underneath, text in scratchy black pen wrote, (PS. GET RID OF THIS BOOK! NOT SAFE FOR THE KIDS!) that was obviously from Freddy, written by Roxy judging from the incomprehensible handwriting.

She pulled the drawing out of the book, when another paper fell out from behind it. It was a polaroid. She bent down to pick it up, flipping it over. The photo was of her and Lia. Before Vanny. Her hand glazed over the image, such a distant memory in her mind. She wished so badly to talk to Lia again, but there was no way Lia would want to. Dropping the oddly twisted book in her small mesh garbage can, she smiled to herself, put the drawing and photo on her desk, and went out to make dinner.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Survivor's Blood (Leon x Reader) - Chapter 6

Survivor's Blood

Pairing: Leon x Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (you are here!)

Summary: After Raccoon City, Leon became the only Government agent with that kind of expertise. With relentless training, he was now a Special Agent - again, on his first day in the job. He just didn’t expect to live Raccoon City all over again… Maybe Leon was fated to always have the worst first-days-at-work ever.

Age Restriction: 18+. It’s horror, so expect a lot of graphic violence and blood dripping from this. I mean, VERY GRAPHICAL VIOLENCE. Nothing we haven’t seen on RE, but still. Yee been warned

TRIGGER WARNING: Leon has a slight panic attack on this one, right at the end. Proceed with caution.

Author's Notes: Wow. I just looked at the last post, Chapter 5, I posted LITERALLY one year ago, on June 26. I swear I didn't plan this, life's crazy! Craziness aside, this time we have a slight smaller chapter because I wanted to end it with Leon having a small panic attack from his PTSD the poor guy. I recently watched REC, the Spanish found footage horror movie, and OH GODS, it's AMAZING. LOVED it. Took a little to find the one with original Spanish audio, but totally worth it - if there ever was a Resident Evil movie following the games, it had to be like REC; hence why I came back to writing if after such a long time. Also, I'm now watching the RE4 Remake as a movie - I'm a little sad I don't know any streamers I like in English who have played the game, so I'm watching with no commentary, as I did with RE4 looooong ago 'cause I was too scared of chainsaw man. Maybe I'll get to finish this story soon!

Chapter 6

Hospital Arklay Hill, April 29th, 2001 – 22h13

Leon stared at his watch – glancing at the clock on the wall, you understood why his eyes seemed so restless: on his schedule, you had to be at the school in less than ten minutes.

And that would never happen.

“Is it ok if we run a little late?” You quietly asked him, avoiding the ears of the other survivors. Neither of you wanted them to get desperate.

“Yeah, I planned it with a few minutes for us to breathe in case something went wrong.” Even so, his sigh showed Leon wasn’t too happy with that.

You almost smiled. Such a perfectionist. You could easily see how high his standards were for himself – and how much he wanted to achieve them.

“Well, I’m counting Lickers as something going wrong.” Your answer made him huff a quick smile. “Seriously, those things are awful. What was Umbrella thinking…?”

“They weren’t thinking. Period.” Leon’s words were dry and filled with a bitterness that made you stare back at him. As he checked the shotgun’s ammo for the last time, there was something sharp in his eyes – only Leon knew how everything that happened in Raccoon City affected his life. “Ready to go, partner?”

“Oh, yeah, choco chip.” You had a not so happy smile on your lips as your words dripped sarcasm. Leon couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

“C’mon, we’re getting out of this. You’ll never have to think about it again.”

You sincerely hoped his words to be true.

*

“When we open this door, no one comes out. I’m gonna check the corridor and when I tell y/n it’s all ok, you can get out. Understood?”

All survivors agreed with their heads – even if you didn’t agree much on Leon going out on his own, seeing you basically saved his life, killing a Licker point blank.

You would do it again if you had to.

Leon silently opened the door, leaving the shotgun hanging on his back. You had no idea why he didn’t have it ready on his hands, but you weren’t a trained agent like him. He didn’t fully close the door so it wouldn’t click and you held it on place – your head almost glued to the wood, trying to hear any kind of noise going on the other side.

“What if he dies out there…?” Valerie’s whisper was almost as silent as a needle dropping on the floor – but those words were as deadly as a nuclear bomb.

Up until that moment, you hadn’t stopped to think about that – and, to be fair, you hadn’t had the chance to think. Everything was chaos and the only thing you were supposed to do was keep going, keep moving to survive that hellish night. But Valerie’s words had reason: what would you all do if Leon, the only one trained and seasoned enough to get through it, died right then and there? What would you do if a Licker shredded him to pieces and decided to wait for you all to come out so you would have the same fate?

If Leon didn’t survive, you probably wouldn’t survive – it was simple as that. But something else hurt in that thought… Yes, you had just met him, but not having him around seemed… Empty. Unfair.

He couldn’t die. Leon wouldn’t die. You would make sure of that – after all, you had fearlessly killed a Licker in the heat of the moment to make sure Leon would keep walking by your side. And you would get out of that damned city together, that was the only certainty you allowed in your heart.

Not wanting to make any noise, you held Valerie’s hand, lightly reassuring the woman everything was going to be alright. She turned her eyes to you, taking a deep breath upon seeing you so calm and sure – still trying to hear whatever was going on outside.

In that situation, though, a few seconds dragged themselves like a whole eternity. You were probably holding your breath, you weren’t really paying attention to that at the moment, when you heard a light scratching on the door.

“Clear.” Leon’s voice was but a murmur, one only you could hear, but it was enough.

You signaled the other survivors to leave the room: the man in the lab coat went first, followed by a father and his teenage son, an elderly woman and finally Valerie. You kept your gun ready in your hands, leaving the room with the door open – if one of those creatures tried to follow from the depths of the corridor, the door could perhaps distract it.

Leon signaled you to take the lead, keeping the shotgun locked and loaded as the scared group followed you towards the door – wincing as soon as they saw the Licker, covering their mouths so they wouldn’t scream in horror. Valerie aided the elderly woman while the lab coat man only rolled his eyes. The father, helped his son walk straight, as the boy was wearing hospital clothes. Leon watched everything carefully at the back of the group – also making sure he was listening carefully.

He had seen survivor’s groups like those – he had talked to Jill and Carlos about their many missions, he had conversations with Chris about his S.T.A.R.S assignments, and he had heard a story or two from Claire. Lab coat man obviously thought everyone was a hinderance, so Leon would keep a sharp eye on him as well: those kinds of people wouldn’t flinch at the chance of sacrificing someone else to save their own skin.

And even if Leon despised those types, he would save that guys’ ass because of his own set of moral values – not because the guy was actually worth something.

As soon as you reached the dead Licker on the floor, you raised your right hand so the group came to a halt – making Leon smirk in the process. You were proving to be quite a surprise and, if he was going to be honest, a very welcome one.

Quietly kicking the Licker aside, you forced the door open one more time – using your stealthier skills as to not make any noise at it. Holding the gun with one hand, you looked back at Leon and, as he nodded, you nodded back, pushing the rest of the door and holding it open with one of your feet, immediately pointing the gun at the corridor you had first seen that horrid creature.

You quickly pointed at one side, then at the other – checking it twice just to make sure. It was empty, quiet, like a forgotten tomb reeking of blood and decay. You furrowed your brows as something immediately came to your mind: what if there were other survivor’s hidden at the hospital who weren’t as lucky as those with you to have an old radio and ask for help? They would be left there to die – and you were right there.

You didn’t have time to search the place with Leon, though. Even if you wanted to, your heart desperately screaming you should delve in deeper and help those who couldn’t help themselves, you couldn’t. You had to save those you were able to save. You had to turn around and never look back.

Shaking your head quickly, you held the door open so the group could continue forward. Leon noticed something was wrong – as you stared at a bloodstain on the floor with an empty yet uncomfortable expression. He had to tap you on the shoulder so you would snap out of it, looking back into his grayish sea eyes, and finding them with a question inside.

You could almost hear him saying ‘are you ok?’ – which seemed to be something you would ask each other infinitely that night.

You nodded back, quietly closing the door and taking the lead once again. You made sure to guide the group through the safest patches of floor – those that weren’t slippery with blood or that weren’t filled with broken things that when stepped on could make a horrible noise. Keeping that pace, you would reach the door in no time.

As the group kept going, Leon’s steps got slower. Something crept from the bowels of the Hospital to cling into his heart; something wasn’t right. He kept walking slowly, trying to figure out that feeling at the base of his stomach – but you were almost there. By crossing the sterile white doors, you would get to the waiting room, then the main hall, and then out.

Leon halted completely when he heard something. Looking back at you and the survivor’s group, it seemed like he was the only one who had heard it. Leon immediately turned his head to the other end of the corridor – covered in complete darkness, looking like an endless descent into hell itself.

The noise came with a gentle gust of cold wind, sounding like a faint breath from something inhuman. As if the Hospital itself was breathing – slowly, ominously… Hungrily. Leon could swear he heard very distant groans and things being knocked out of their place, echoing through the halls and corridors, to almost fail at reaching his ears.

But if there was something he learned at the RPD that fateful night, that would be listening. He survived through carefully hearing and identifying how to choose a slightly safer path that night.

As you reached the white double door, you looked back to check on Leon – only to find him standing at a certain distance from the group, gripping the shotgun with both hands in front of his body, looking back inside the Hospital.

You almost let out an audible sigh. There was no way you could know what he was thinking without speaking to him, but watching Leon looking back made your heart stir with a violent desire of going even deeper into that hell to search for other survivors. There was no way a place as big as that would have only five people alive – and you couldn’t even imagine how harrowing it would be to survive only to be left to die in there, unable to save yourself.

“Leon…?” You risked a murmur, barely noticing how the other survivors watched you both with expectation – and uneasiness. “Leon…!”

As you slightly raised your voice, Leon seemed to snap out of it and look back at you. The worry in his grayish sea eyes was different than the one that resided in yours – making him wonder even more what in the hell was haunting you since you got out from that room. You signaled the double door with your head and he agreed, quickly – but quietly – regrouping.

That alleviated a little bit of the tension on the group – and, as you carefully opened the white door, they had no fear because Leon was on the back giving you cover. Just like before, you stepped in the waiting room first, checking every corner with your gun before holding the door open for the other survivors to come through.

The father told his son not to look at the dead bodies you and Leon had shot before. Valerie did her best to help the elderly woman to cross the path without falling. Lab coat man kept rolling his eyes and fidgeting, almost pushing the father and the son out of his way to reach the exit first – being blocked by you as soon as you reached the milky glass door.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of this fucking place already.”

“You wanna go first and risk being eaten by one of those things? Be my guest.” You waved at the door, staring at him without a single drop of patience left in your body. Leon had already been rude with the man before, so you took the chance to do that too. No one would tell you off if you did so – in a matter of fact, you were probably saying what everyone wanted to say. “Things aren’t much better out there than in here, you know.”

The man looked like he had just eaten a full slice of lemon and was tasting the consequences. If you weren’t in that situation, Leon would’ve probably laughed.

As the milky glass door jammed once more, you looked back at Leon only to see him nodding: you could go to the other room, he would cover you and protect the survivors. Pointing the gun in the air once more, you squeezed through, ready to shoot anything that might have come in during your stay in the Hospital.

And once more, Leon looked back – to the double white doors you had just left behind. Did he hear a… Stomp?

His heart trembled inside his chest. Suddenly, it seemed like the entire Hospital didn’t have enough air for him to breathe. Leon furrowed his brows as his heartbeat got faster. It couldn’t be. That Tyrant, at least that’s what he was told that thing was called, couldn’t be back. He had killed it, blown it into oblivion with a missile launcher – Leon watched as the only thing that was left from that Tyrant were its legs; tearing it in half being the only way to make it stop following Leon around.

For years after he left Raccoon Leon kept dreaming about that. Constant nightmares with that Tyrant following him, sucker punching him every time they met and Leon wasn’t quick enough to run away. It felt like his whole body was broken, but he couldn’t stop running, could he? Even if his bones turned into mush, Leon had to keep running – or he would have never left Raccoon City.

Even now, there were some nights Leon woke up with the sound of those steps viciously approaching him in his nightmares – only to have him open his eyes on his bed, sweating like a pig, barely being able to breathe. He could’ve escaped and killed the creature, but he couldn’t escape meeting it in his dreams when his mind was particularly unstable.

And he could swear he was hearing those stomps, right there in that Hospital, echoing like a ghost coming back from his past to haunt him in the present.

“Leon…?” It was Valerie’s voice that tired to pull him out this time. She carefully tried to touch one of his arms, knowing very well it wasn’t the smartest of choices, given the fact he was holding a gun. But Leon closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths – Valerie was used to seeing panic attacks and that was the beginning of one. And her rescuer having a panic attack was definitely not a good thing. “Leon. You need to come back.” Her voice was almost inaudible, but she was close enough for him to listen. Placing her whole palm on his arm, she started to gently rub his skin, trying to anchor him back into the present. “Listen to me. It’s ok. We need you here, Leon. Please.”

Those words made him open his eyes again, looking back into Valerie’s eyes. The woman had nothing but reassurance, even in that godforsaken situation – clearly a seasoned nurse who was used to taking care of people… And people like him.

Leon took another deep breath, watching her smile in the process, finally noticing her touch on his arm. With another breath, his heart started beating a little calmer and it seemed like the stomping had stopped. Leon looked back at the white doors again, but nothing could be heard. He closed his eyes once more, taking another breath, and looking back at Valerie right after.

“Thank you. We need to go now.” With those words, he nodded at the jammed door – Leon and Valerie were the only ones left, with you helping the elderly lady squeeze through without getting hurt. Valerie smiled back, immediately going to the door to help you and cross to the other side.

Leon risked one last look to the double door, only to hear nothing. Whatever it was, it would be shut in the bowels of that Hospital forever – and he couldn’t be happier with that.

**

To be continued...

[bonefall]

does grey wing still get to say The Line™? (kill me, and live with them memory. then tell the stars that you won)

I want him to keep the line, and then add onto Clear Sky's response. In canon he backs off after this and it's ridiculous; like a lot of other things I really despise the direction DOTC went in as opposed to the lore set up in the field guides.

Just for the record, here is the scene right from the book. Clear Sky stops the First Battle because of Gray Wing's line and it is essentially the "start" of his redemption arc;

Clear Sky stood over Gray Wing. “Just give in!” Gray Wing lay on the ground, gasping for breath. His flanks heaved desperately as he stared up at his littermate. “Never.” He aimed a weak blow at his brother’s muzzle, but it missed clumsily. “Give in!” Clear Sky growled threateningly. He lifted a paw. Thunder froze. Gray Wing pushed himself onto his paws, his legs trembling. “Kill me,” he rasped at Clear Sky. “Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you won.” Clear Sky held his gaze. “Don’t make me do this, brother.” His mew quivered. “All I want is for every cat to be safe. To have borders to protect us and make sure we have prey.” Gray Wing staggered closer. “You want to tell every cat what to do,” he wheezed. “You always have and you always will. You’re so greedy for power, you’ll kill your own littermate to get it.” Clear Sky let his paw drop and turned away. “I can’t...” His gaze flitted over the bodies littering the clearing. Cats fought on weakly, staggering more unsteadily with every blow. “Stop!” Clear Sky yowled. “This battle is over."

-The First Battle, Chapter 20

Instead of StarClan furiously interrupting the battle, Clear Sky gets a brief moment where he pauses and calls the battle off. This doesn't live long; Chapter 21 that follows is us zipping into his ridiculous head as we get to watch this waste of ink;

Think about how he just wanted to help his clan guys :(

Think about how sad it is that he did something mean to his son and he feels soo guilty :(

Not even remember killing Rainswept Flower, he was 'so mad he didn't know what he was doing like someone else was fighting for him' :(

GET DEFENDED BY GRAY WING. AGAIN. THIS IS THE ENTIRE SERIES, CLEAR SKY DOES SOMETHING ABHORRENT AND GRAY WING GOES "hes not that bad be nice to him :("

So, basically. Neat line. Too bad the rest of DOTC is around it.

In my take, StarClan is the one who stops the battle. Clear Sky hears the line and sees Gray Wing refusing to submit, "Kill me and live with the memory, then tell the stars that you won."

And responds, "I'll drown the stars in their own blood if they stand against me!"

At that point, Thunder leaps in, ready to fight him to the death in defense of Gray Wing, taking the sentiment of the rest of the scene. A crack of thunder and a shining light is what ends the battle, not Clear Sky calling it off.

[error-dark]

"But Nobody Came..." (SAMS Tangled AU... sort of)

(TW: manipulation, violence, mentions of death, and kidnap. Basically, this fanfic has dark themes in it.)

(Also, wanted to mention that this Tangled AU of mine is a bit messy, ik i'm aware. then again, this is also a what-if situation with Ruin still giving Mother Gothel. I'll let it speak for itself. )

(Calm: the calmer twin. Blood: the aggressive twin. They/them pronouns used for Bloodmoon when refer to both twins. He/him pronouns to individual twins.)

“I tried to warn you, brothers. They only see you as monsters that you were built to be. And that’s the only thing they’ll see you as.”

The Bloodmoon twins sat in silence while Ruin fixed their broken parts. Neither of them didn’t know what to say, or even have anything to say. They just continued staring down at the ground when Ruin finished.

“There! Good as new! This never happened! You never went out and tried to bond with any of them, especially with that “Nice” Eclipse guy. Now I’m sure you two are hungry. I’ll be getting you packets of fresh blood, your favorite!”

The twins didn’t bother to glance up.

Ruin sighed. “I hope you two learn from this. And I do hope you’ll listen to my warnings for now on.” He left the room after adding that last part.

“Brother?” Calm was the first to speak up. “Is Ruin right? About everything? About us?”

“We were made to kill and be unhinged. That’s all we know since…” Blood paused.

“Since…?”

“…July 16th.”

“That date… We controlled that Sun-man, didn’t we? We killed a lot, didn’t we?”

“Eclipse turned us on for the first time that day, too. And-“ Blood gasped as he covered their mouth and eyes widen.

Calm was about to ask what was wrong when he also had the sudden realization. They may not have their original memories, but they figured out what else really happened. Everything that they’ve gone through with Eclipse and Lunar, even Kill Code. There were also some visions of them either torturing or attempting to kill Sun and Moon (they couldn’t tell themselves).

But most importantly, they figured out that they were nothing more than just a killer puppet to Ruin. He was not a brother or family. Solar, Nice Eclipse, was. Or at least the closest person they could call “family”.

They must’ve bumped into some selves or something from behind. But they did not care. However, Ruin heard and went into the room.

“Brothers? Is everything all right?”

“We are Solar’s brothers, aren’t we?” Calm spoke out first.

Ruin scoffed out of annoyance. “Speak up, Bloodmoon. You know how I feel about the mumbling.”

“We are Solar’s brothers, aren’t we?” Blood stated louder. He and Calm then glared up at Ruin as they stood. “Did we mumbled, ‘brother’? Or should we even be calling you that?” Calm asked.

“Do you even hear yourselves, Bloodmoon? Why would you ask such ridiculous question?” Ruin was about to place a hand on their shoulder. But the twins shoved him off.

“It was you!” Calm shouted. “It was all you and Eclipse!” Blood added.

“Don’t you see? Everything I did was to help you, give you a life you never had with that monster!”

Blood shoved Ruin out of their way as he walked out the room. Ruin called out for them, but they didn’t stop.

“As if you’re any different from him! We’re nothing but a killing machine, a puppet for you to pull the strings and control! We were never family to begin with! Well, we’re puppets no more!” Blood stopped to turn and face Ruin.

“Where will you go? No one will be there for you. None of the Sun and Moon family, not even him!”

“What do you mean?” Calm asked with a glare.

“That little package I sent you two to set up in the Daycare, it will explode and kill them all! And all evidence will point at you!”

Blood begun to panic. Calm did his best to comfort his brother.

“Now, now, it’s all going to be okay,” Ruin started as he approached closer. “All of this is as it should be.” He was about to pat their head when Blood grabbed his wrist with force.

“No! You were wrong about us! You were wrong about understanding us! You only wanted to use us, our programming, to do your dirty work! And we will never let you make us your puppets again!”

Ruin struggled to set himself free. When he did, he tumbled back, hitting a desk that was behind him. Bloodmoon stared at him angerly before they started taking their leave.

“You want me to be the bad guy? Fine, now I’m the bad guy.”

Without warning, Ruin shocked Bloodmoon. The twins fell onto the floor, screaming in pain. Before they could even get a change to shock him back, Ruin chained them up and disabled their ability to shock him. He even used a cloth nearby to cover their mouth so no one could hear their screams (not that anyone would be able to hear them anyways).

The twins tried everything they could do. They tried to scream, beg, kick, but none of them worked. Yet, they were still determined to fight for their lives. They wanted and needed to escape from Ruin.

Tears. Tears were coming out from their eyes. They weren’t scared. They were terrified for the first time.

Flashbacks encountered of when they caught Lunar and tortured him, almost killing him. They knew how Lunar felt now.

More flashbacks encountered of when they were controlling Sun, using his body to kill like he was their puppet. They finally understood how he felt.

They didn’t want to die. Not like this at least. They wanted a better life. At least someone else that understood them and wouldn’t treat them the way they’ve been.

But their body was getting tired of fighting back. Every time they try, Ruin just tugged on the chains more. It felt hopeless.

They tried calling for help one last time even though it came out as a muffled scream.

…But nobody came.

[prinnamon]

finally done with Shephard's Mind! i took notes on the first couple episodes weeks ago, put the series off, then raced through the rest in the past three days. series official playlist here. it doesn't include some of the extras, but i'll link all of them when i get to them!

even though all my notes are finished, i'm going to split them up into three posts (plus a fourth for comments and misc source finds) so that this is more manageable to revisit. it's a longer series than any of the ones i covered previously.

below are some overall thoughts about Mindrian as a character, followed by my notes on episodes 1-10.

my overall impressions of Shep, not specific to a single episode:

his first instinct is to give people the benefit of the doubt, but if someone definitively betrays his trust. he will hold a grudge.

interested in aliens. not really disgusted by them. doesn't have a problem killing them but doesn't seem to take joy from it that can't be attributed to an appreciation of his own skill/luck/success or a matter of "fuck this specific individual alien."

the description calls him a "cowardly individual," which i've seen one or two people disagree with, but which to me feels accurate. he runs from danger and only faces it head-on when he can't run anymore.

he's not really squeamish about evidence of bad things happening to other people unless the implication is that it could also happen to him. he is unabashedly looking out for himself first.

doesn't use his own name much in his internal monologue early on. did say "Adrian wins" in episode 10, so i started calling him Adrian instead of Shephard. but then he went and started referring to himself as Shephard quite a bit more frequently in the late series. oh well. you’ll all know who i’m talking about.

EPISODE 1

Adrian was asleep before the intro. dozes off again while the others are chitchatting.

considers "your mom" jokes immature.

COMPLETELY silent while the helicopter's getting blasted to bits

says "my tummy hurts" when he regains consciousness at one point. his tummy hurts and he's not gonna be brave about it. as is his right

not too upset at the sight of dead HECU soldiers! i mean, he was trained for this eventuality.

head hurts. flickering lights bad.

he's expecting the first aid station to dispense Advil. it does not.

recognizes his sergeant being carried by scientists on a stretcher. follows because "i'm not gonna miss a chance to see him in pain!"

gets knocked over when the headcrabbed soldier throws the scientist's body through the window. gets back up and runs away!

has a reasonable degree of fear but isn't panicking.

assumes the zombies are black mesa's creation/responsibility. ("hey, your monster broke out of the lab.")

treats the first guard he meets as an ally! …until said guard offers arbitrary instructions Adrian has to follow before they can move on. then Adrian becomes antagonistic towards him.

lets the zombie chase the scientist while he goes for his vest. once he realizes how the headcrabs attack and attach to people, he decides to go help.

doesn't really end up helping. won't let the scientist stand behind him. ultimately leaves him behind. the scientist can be heard getting killed off-screen.

Adrian wants something he can keep between him and the enemy. grabs a rolling chair and pushes it around in front of him. (like Stark with that stool…) ditches it for the wrench immediately but then goes back for it and uses it to climb safely past the laser.

gets a bad electrical shock from a live wire. takes a break to recover.

best line: (after noticing collapsed support beams) "so, uh… you guys doing some renovations in here or what?" (after noticing bloody handprints on the wall) "and, uh, heh, evidently some… ahem… finger painting."

EPISODE 2

acknowledges the HUD! he can see it. it displays on the lenses of his helmet.

doesn't want to touch the crabs :/ avoids instead of engaging!

accosts the guard, demanding he let Adrian in. when he doesn't, Adrian is surprisingly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and dismiss it as being because of technical difficulties.

would NOT work here.

yells to hear his voice echo in the chasm

"okay. i probably shouldn't look down." (inching closer to the edge of the cliff and looking down) "don't look down. why are you looking down? stop looking down!" (looking back up and moving on) "okay"

very enthusiastic about finding a knife. takes it out of the vortigaunt's corpse without noticing the body. spends several seconds admiring the knife before realizing there's an alien there

"i've never seen an alien up close." (buddy what do you think the crabs are? oh, wait, right, he thinks zombies—and i guess, by extension, also headcrabs—are black mesa's creation.) "but now that i have… now that i have, i feel richer for the experience." he's learning so much!

only mildly bummed/perturbed to reach the crash site and find everyone there dead.

brushes the same arm that was already electrocuted up against the electrified fence in the middle of chastising a dead guard for having been electrocuted.

slur count: 1

i've noticed he goes quiet for long stretches when there's immediate danger or he needs to focus. he may be a contender for mind series character most capable of shutting the fuck up

thinks to check a soldier for a pulse.

cannot whistle. wishes he could.

hit by a vortigaunt's beam. electricity really is his number 1 enemy

never goes to barbecues. they're boring to him

left the base at noon. estimates it to be 5:30 PM now. hoping to "get home before [he misses] the new episode of House tonight" (referring to the show House MD and placing the series between 2004 and 2012)

best line: "all i did was touch an electrified wire and i'm already 12 percent dead! or 88 percent alive, depending on your point of view."

EPISODE 3

formulating a backup plan that involves stealing an alien spaceship from a lab.

sees a barnacle. considers leaving it alone because he wants nothing to do with it. reconsiders. kills it.

thinks maybe this one wasn't an alien. after all, he hadn't heard of echidnas until recently

loves the laser sight on the desert eagle. sounds almost disappointed at how easy it is to kill aliens with it.

has second thoughts about stealing an alien ship. it wouldn't be good to get mistaken for an invader by air traffic control.

wonders if the invasion is happening all over the planet.

hit by a vortigaunt's beam again!

sooo disappointed about being unable to take the lift up to the top

incredibly grateful to gman for letting him out of the electrified toxic waste room. when gman isn't there, Adrian wonders where he could've gone since the other way out is also blocked by electrified toxic waste

unhappy that all his pessimistic predictions are coming true. thinks of himself as "the Nostradamus of fucking up."

thinks headcrabs look like featherless chickens. contemplating taking one home and cooking and eating it.

chastises a dead guard for dying right next to a first aid station. hopes said guard reincarnates as a featherless chicken alien

slur count: 2

has a cousin James who thought he was a spider in his past life & would try to construct webs out of his own hair

fails at tucking and rolling

wonders now if gman ("that suit guy") found a secret passage out. resents gman for not telling him about it.

refers to an automatic gate arm by itself as a toll booth

best line: "okay, that's it! i'm gonna beat the shit out of you… with bullets!"

EPISODE 4

his suit is not waterproof. neither is his mask

disgusted at the barnacles slurming him when he shoots them

mood is greatly improved by the discovery of a hand grenade. mischievously says "it's time to ruin someone's day >:)"

recounts a story of a guy sneaking into prison with a hand grenade up his ass. hopes he can acquire lightning powers so that in case he goes to prison he can have a weapon on hand without having to store it in such a difficult and uncomfortable way

very irritated by the alarm sound

initially mistakes the houndeyes for puppies but guns them down before they can do their soundwave attack.

was terrified of big dogs as a little kid. says that fear has been replaced by his new fear of aliens. (wait, so was he afraid of big dogs until black mesa when he found something to be more afraid of, or did he leave it behind in childhood?)

calls houndeyes hamdogs. (headcrabs are still chickens. zombies are zombie chickens. vortigaunts are, i think, just aliens.)

feeling tired again. apparently couldn't sleep the night before. supposes that "maybe on some intuitive, instinctual level, i really knew this was going to happen."

takes a lil nap on the tram. mumbles in his sleep about "Freeman" and "pulling out," which is quoting something he doesn't hear until next epesode. his premonitions… (technically, Adrian has heard the name "Freeman" before over the intercom--at least, according to Krim; i never verified that myself—but next episode when he hears the name "Freeman," he responds "who?")

gets Otis a chocolate bar from the vending machine. when Otis doesn't move to take it, Adrian goes for it. his now :]

Otis shoots a zombie, so Adrian, impressed, invites him to tag along.

slur count: 3. follows this one with a "no offense" :\

in response to Otis saying "fighting aliens is not in my job description," Adrian offers that at least it'll look good on a resume.

manages to find a working phone and call 911. is sadly taken for a prank caller. may have also reached a pizza place instead of 911..?

best line: (about houndeyes) "and it's got, like, twenty eyes. who the fuck needs to see that many things at once!?"

EPISODE 5

this episode has a cold opening before the intro! and it's a really good gag honestly

gets put on hold by the person on the other end of the call. gets so mad he shoots the phone multiple times

directs Otis to stay behind and make sure everyone who arrives via the tram gets through safely. wow. that's really considerate

calls a headcrab a headcrab for what i believe is the first time! no longer featherless chickens. they are now crabs. another victim of carcinization

announces that backup (himself) has arrived. never walks this back even though everyone dies before he reaches them there

figures out the HEV chargers work with the PCVs!

does not have a dust allergy. this is fortunate, because the vents are dusty.

tells another marine he should go easier on the scientist since the guy's probably at least 60.

wonders who Freeman is. jokingly but accurately guesses he's an "evil scientist who drops people down elevator shafts or collects human skulls or something."

distraught at being shut in while the helicopter leaves without him. recognizes gman from earlier and is angry that he won't open the door.

epic melee combat sequence with cool music playing! Adrian efficiently takes down three vortigaunts using only the wrench and doesn't say a word.

sadly, the above only occurred in Adrian's imagination. in his Shephard's Mind, if you will.

the real encounter involves him running around and wildly shooting without landing most of his shots

fantasizes about enacting cartoon violence against gman

generally no longer surprised by aliens teleporting in. getting used to all the bullshit like finding weapons lying around in random spots and having to crawl through vents. not pleased at the fact that he's getting used to this.

immediately goes for a vent, ignoring a door. catches himself in the middle of doing so, but the door's locked anyway, so he had the right idea in the first place

perplexed at how a metal air vent partially submerged in electrified water does not electrocute him when he stands on it

piss time! nobody was looking, but then of course someone shows up right in the middle so he has to try to play it cool. end of episode.

best line: "like, what happened? did they just suddenly decide to convert this entire room into a pool? i hope they at least put chlorine in it. wouldn't want the aliens to get sick!"

EPISODE 6

the scientist who saw him pissing is dead now. eaten by zombie. no witnesses ("on the upside, the only man who has ever seen me with my pants down is now dead")

"i just saw this guy, like, three minutes ago" huh? took you three minutes to piss???

smacked in the head (helmet) by a fan blade. this is painful but not horribly so

wrist is starting to hurt from the recoil of the guns he's using. anticipates he'll get carpal tunnel "by next year." (so he is counting on his own survival.)

critical of the positioning of the "alien garden" right next to the vents of fire

entranced by the xen light stalks. starts making silly noises and "scaring" them for fun

gets that mischievous manner about him again when he has the opportunity to disobey a warning sign and blow some shit up

questions what the gonome is tossing at him and realizes with disgust that it's throwing parts of its own body

wanting to shower soon. worried about getting sick from alien blood in his wounds. thinks it could give him superpowers or leukemia

feels safe in the vents since it's harder for things to surprise him

irritated at a dying marine's unhelpful and obvious advice

goes for his gun and accidentally grabs the wrench instead for a sec. very silly

once again dreams of commandeering a vehicle to make getting out of here easier

frustrated that all the black mesa employees are afraid of him. thinks he deserves some appreciation for killing aliens.

best line: "looks like the service elevator is… out of service :("

EPISODE 7

successfully conquering (or suppressing) his fear of heights!

anticipates he'll come out of this situation with a drug addiction (which, at this point, he thinks he's earned)

looks back and forth between the crashed elevator and the snapped/sparking cables and then, in a goofy voice, says "well, there's your problem!" and proceeds to laugh for several seconds. i found this endearing

slips and falls :[

plans to make a habit of turning off electricity wherever he can since there have been so many electrical hazards

considers himself good at climbing ropes normally. climbing an elevator cable is a nightmare and a horrible experience (greasy)

"better not fire this gun." (continues holding gun at the ready as though prepared to fire at any moment)

(disapprovingly) is that a crate of explosives!?" (throws a grenade to blow it up)

grossed out by human head on the floor

remarks "what a shocking end!" about an electrocuted scientist. proud of and entertained by his cheesy one-liner

derogatorily calls a headcrab a "little ballsack"

cheerfully greets and has a positive interaction with a scientist

finds a radio. laments that there's nobody still around to call. hears voices nearby, though, so he gives it a try anyway.

links up with other marines for the first time! one of them's Jack, an engineer from his squad in the helicopter at the start! (Adrian doesn't know the other guy, and he won't say his name)

incredibly impressed when Jack lights his cutting torch with his cigarette

guy-who-won't-say-his-name stays behind while Jack and Adrian go on.

Space Oddity is the elevator music here! kinda neat. Adrian sings along a bit but doesn't remember the words.

best line: "oho! you just lit that with a cigarette! didja see that? he lit it with a cigarette. that's hardcore."

EPISODE 8

(while fighting aliens as the elevator music continues) "the power of David Bowie compels you!"

Adrian and Jack cooperate well!

Adrian considers how easily aliens break down doors and whether he could use that to his advantage.

Jack was,,, told to guard this area? so he stays behind. i understand talking to an NPC is sorta impractical, but i will miss him.

explodes a vortigaunt with a knife. shocked at the fact that this really happened. supposes they're so explodeable because their bodies are full of electricity…

the cool melee sequences he could only daydream of a few episodes ago are now a reality! good for him. character growth.

his actual life goal was to go into acting, not the military. thinks he could have cut it as a martial arts movie star.

passes Freeman's employee of the month photo and laughs about it. "yeah, i bet that guy's wishing he had taken the opening for a high school science teacher right about now."

gets briefly strangled by a barnacle. after escaping, he immediately backs into another one. decides these are the worst aliens. "now my trachea feels like someone stepped on it >:("

once again has the displeasure of encountering electrified toxic waste

apparently had gross greasy hands for quite a while after climbing the elevator cable but is no longer plagued by that

feels so insulted to have been shot with bees. would rather be shot with bullets

comes across a medic he doesn't know! pokes fun at the fact that Jack is "bravely defending a walk-in closet."

stumbles into a turret laser and gets shot at. very irritated by this. claims he was there the day turrets were brought onto the base and was assured friendly fire would not be a problem

gets shot at by black ops but still sees them as misguided allies who think he's an alien

when saying "it's me, Corporal Shephard" still gets him shot at, he tries "i mean, Corporal Swanson!" just in case that changes their minds

doesn't actually mean to kill the first assassin; only intended to fire off "a few warning shots."

worried about being court-martialed for killing four people.

there's a fifth assassin. Adrian fights him. while the assassin lies on the ground, Adrian says, "i'm sorry, but I can't have any witnesses" and then shoots him in the head.

he’s hoping the situation doesn't continue to spiral out of control and result in him having to kill even more people

has always wanted to say "double-time it" and is happy he got the chance to do so

i really like the way he tells the medic "come on, come on! we got an injured guy! there's no time to dust for fingerprints here! let's go!" because it simultaneously conveys the urgency he feels because of the engineer's injuries and his need to hurry the medic along so that he doesn't put together the details of what Adrian did. 😀😄

best line: "that's how it goes. in the face of extinction, all men become equals. and most of them become dead."

EPISODE 9

accidentally hits the engineer's gas can when trying to take out the turret. very dismayed at the bloody mess. the medic is unconcerned

never expected he'd ever actually kill someone. even when he enlisted, the possibility didn't feel real

makes several unsuccessful attempts to flirt with the assassins

says "okay, this time i'm not going to kill anyone" and then takes the assassins out with the pipe wrench, spraying blood everywhere. Adrian..! that kills people!

chastises a marine for getting BITS all over the place. later admonishes the same guy for talking loudly while they're trying to stay hidden. sadly has nothing nice to say to him

formulates a plan to dispose of all the weapons he used to murder people today in electrified toxic waste. suspects that black mesa disposes of incriminating evidence the same way

Adrian's knee gets grazed by a bullet because he's trying to flirt with an assassin. he STILL keeps trying even after this

very pleased with himself because he thinks he's being very stealthy, hiding from some assassins behind a box. accidentally backs into some other assassins.

suggests black leather in a brightly-lit area with light-colored walls may not be the pinnacle of stealth

can't explain why, but he feels Freeman is the reason he's here.

carries the SAW (which he calls the M60) for a while and uses it until it runs out of ammo. decides it's too heavy to justify carrying indefinitely. abandons it.

best line: "you see that, private? i just shot her in the leg. that's called courtesy."

EPISODE 10

anticipates being awarded a good ten medals at the end of this. purple heart for sure. thinks he's eligible for a medal of honor. as long as he's not a wanted criminal, that is.

he is DELIGHTED with how well things went when he distracted an assassin with a grenade and then shot him in the back of the head. "Adrian wins. Flawless victory."

shocked to find a rocket launcher not in use. disappointed that he can't carry it with him. "goddamn. i really wanna blow things up :("

believes he's "almost outta here." buddy you're not even at the halfway point of the series

"who's there? come out where i can see you! i got a half-melted chocolate bar and i'm not afraid to eat it!"

hears Freeman's name. looking forward to kicking his ass.

VERY nearly makes it into the portal after him.

somehow able to tell the difference between an open portal and a closed one.

has a lot of reservations about being on "the alien planet." might breathe in poisons… might contract an alien virus… nowhere to get a cup of coffee…

enjoying the low gravity, though. feels strong.

holding onto some uranium-235 even though he doesn't currently have any weapons that use it as ammo because he thinks he can sell it after this is over.

gets launched by a "crazy space trampoline" and hates the planet again.

a scientist falls from a portal up above, to which Adrian says "oh my god. it's raining men"

calls the displacer cannon the BFG9000

engages in the classic pastime called "make up a guy to get scared of" (jokes about there being giant bees and then gets worried about having to fight giant bees)

falls and screams for so long he runs out of breath and starts to cough. pathetically tries to continue screaming but can't make it work and is confused that he isn't dying

best line: of COURSE it has to go to "hey! get back here, you big orange fuck!"

[straycalamities]

Oh my okay I've got several... no I've got plenty of questions abt Truffula Flu lol

So... I'll ask all I remembered I wanted to ask, I hope it won't be too much..

1. Why guns aren't allowed in camp Entre? Maybe I skipped few posts, but I didn't see explanation for this one

2. About zombie mutations. Is they're really become stronger or is it just Rocky and Entre become weaker cuz of their illnesses?

3. Swags mod said that Swag would probably leave camp and die somewhere in quite place, while trying to survive. Why would he leave people that he cares about? Im a little bit dumb and don't exactly understand his planned ending 8(

4. There was a moment when One-ler tried to convince Bitter to put him out of his misery, but he escaped that. And I was curious, if he actually killed him then, would Entre blame himself for that? And if so, would it be worse then he blamed himself when he killed Bitter by his own hands?

5. After Rockys planned death, would Swag blame Entre for this? I mean, emotionally shocked, blame him again about this apocalypse stuff, that Rocky wouldn't die if he wasn't infected and etc.

I hope I made myself clear cuz I dunno how to put some questions ughh😭😭

And again Im sorry if its too much questions!

PHEW THAT IS A CHUNKY LIST. i love it

1. guns are loud and the infected are drawn to loud noises so if you shot a gun you’d be ringing the dinner bell basically. i feel like maybe we touched on it directly? but if i’m wrong it’s probably bc it’s a common thing brought up in zombie apocalypse stories so we might’ve assumed ppl just Knew why none of them used or wanted to use a gun

2. they do become stronger! i actually have a whole list of mutations (and more can be added as ppl come up with them! it’s open lore basically)

i made a whole google doc explaining the actual truffula flu and the symptoms, risks, etc (content warning for if you’re sensitive to medical discussion?? i don’t know how to word it but i wrote it like ur typical online disease info page. also content warning for zombies bc. it’s entirely abt zombification.)

rocky and entre being weakened definitely didn’t help their situation but yes. it’s mainly bc the spiky zombie is faster and stronger than ur typical sort

3. this is kinda hard for me to answer bc i’m not the one who originally wrote it. i don’t rly know why it was planned for it to go like that. i guess out of irony? i know the original plan was for swag to be the sole survivor at the end, but that kinda clashed w other plans so it was changed. so maybe this was the compromise to that

i will say tho that. things had been discussed since that post was made and his story goes differently than was broadcasted. howso? you’ll just have to see :)

4. yes, entre still would’ve blamed himself because ultimately: this is all his fault. regardless of who dies how or where. they wouldn’t be in that situation if it weren’t for him. especially if it’s connected directly with the infection. especially if it’s right in front of him where he can’t ignore it

he wouldn’t have been AS devastated by bitters death if he weren’t the one that had to kill him tho, because the thing is: that was the first time entre had directly killed someone who was still “alive” (unless i’m forgetting some obscure shit i did or said idk it’s been over a decade) and not only that, it was someone who was still his friend despite what he’d done? and even more layers: he had worked so hard to get bitter to come out of his shell prior to the infection and actually be his friend and then this happens. and he has to be the one to end it. bc he was pressured into it

so honestly entres descent into immense self-loathing and all that would have been Very different from how we saw it if someone else had taken care of bitter

5. nah i don’t think swag would’ve like actively started pointing fingers at entre again at that point. like deep deep down swag can’t ignore that this IS entre’s fault and this WOULDNT have happened if not for his mistake, but…swag realizes in the story that it’s not gonna get them anywhere if he keeps holding on so hard to those facts. like if he keeps berating and belittling entre as payback for everything what’s actually gonna get better for that? nothing. all it does is give him temporary catharsis and even that gets cheaper and lasts less time every time he does it

entre wants to fix things so earnestly and tries and swag sees that and wants to help because obviously he also would like this to be undone or at least, cured. and they can’t help each other if they’re at odds. and so even if it’s really hard on him to lose rocky like that, i think at that point it’s just chalked up to “this bitch of a situation” and not “entre did this”

not forgetting the fact that at that point, entre is going to mean a LOT to him because of how their relationship has deepened. so he’s not gonna turn on one of the only ppl he has left

thank you for the questions!! 😊

[totally-not-deacon]

WIP Wednesday Thursday!

Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire! I dunno who's been tagged already, but I'll go ahead and harass @dalishthunder @molliehaswords @singleteapot, just in case.

So this week, I've actually spent more time fucking around the Creation Kit and writing dialogue than working on AR, but I got a little done that I can show off! Under the cut, I'll give ya some of the yet-unnamed epilogue I've been tinkering with as well.

“I was hoping to avoid involving them, but I guess there’s nothing for it.” Delphine sighed in frustration, as if she had the right to be. “You’ll have to ask the Greybeards to see if they know anything.” Marasa could hear the disdain in her voice, mirroring it in kind. “They’ve yet to lead me to ruin, so I trust they can point me in the right direction.” “Since they’ve already let you into their little cult, I would hope so.” This woman had respect for none but herself, not even Marasa. She was a tool in her eyes, a means to an end. The question was, what was the end? The way she talked about her, how she could use Marasa, didn’t seem to stop at defeating Alduin. She was having none of it. If Delphine thought she would kowtow to her expectations, to be her weapon, she was sorely mistaken. “We’ll explore the temple some more. It’s a better hideout than I could have hoped for. Go, talk with the Greybeards. See what they know about this shout.” Delphine said, indicating it was time for her to go. Marasa would do so gladly, anything to get out of here. Away from Delphine, from prophesies, from the end of the world. Just, anywhere but here. “Talos guard you.” If looks could kill, Delphine would be dropping to the stone floor writhing and gasping for air. “If Talos was going to guard shit, he would have when you sent me to my death.” “I –” Marasa wasn’t about to let her finish, snarling. “Make peace with your precious Talos, you’ll be meeting him sooner than you think.” Marasa stormed out, taking the steps two at a time, not even acknowledging the rest of her group. She needed out of here. Now. That or someone was going to end up dead, and it wasn’t going to be her. “Marasa, wait!” She whipped around, more venom on her tongue, holding it when she caught Lucien’s worried face. He’d run ahead of the group to catch up to her. She forced her posture to relax – he wasn’t deserving of her ire. Marasa sighed. “Sorry, Luc.” she said, letting her shoulders drop. “Didn’t – didn’t mean to cause a scene.” He shook his head, “I just wanted to see if you’re alright.” She looked at him, casting a glance at the others as they came down the stairs before averting her eyes, mouth turned into a deep frown. “No… not really, honestly.” “It’s a lot…” he nodded. Approaching cautiously, he held his arms out, relieved when she moved in to accept the hug, sagging against him. “I don’t know if it helps, but I believe in you.” “Yeah. Yeah, it does, actually.”

(Set in 4E205, Arenthia, Valenwood)

“It looks… exactly how I remember it.”

“I thought there’d be more trees.”

“Hah, no. You’d need to go further south for that. We’re on the border of northern Elsweyr, after all.” And it showed, not just in the populous. The air was dry and warm, but the mid-morning breeze off the river kept it surprisingly comfortable. He couldn’t lie, he was afraid the heat would be far more unpleasant, afraid it might dredge up things he’d rather forget. Thankfully, there was none of that, though he would need a change of wardrobe.Sun baked grass crunched under foot, weary workers took their breaks under the shade trees dotted around them, others hurried themselves with whatever tasks they had that day. It was busy, and it made even Solitude look nearly desolate. This was a proper trade city.

“Explains all the cats.”

“Shh,” she elbowed him in the side with a playful laugh. “Play nice.”

“Never.” he grinned.

“Look there,” she pointed off towards the edge of the harbor. Several workers – mostly Khajiit and Bosmer – toiled together, loading and unloading crates and containers full of who knew what between a ship and a large warehouse. “That’s my family’s – I said they were merchants, right?”

He raised his brow in surprise at the sheer size of the building. “I think I expected a smaller operation.”

“It was when I was younger, but I guess we’ve been pretty fortunate.” Marasa led them away from the docks, following the well-worn path into the city proper. “They’ll bring the rest of our things to my parents’, it’s not far from here.”

“You sure they have enough room to store all your junk for a while?” She gave him a small punch to the shoulder in response, a fond smile on her lips.

It really was different from his expectations. The architecture alone showcased its Khajiiti influence, both in ancient stonework and the sweeping, curved beams holding roofs over the colorfully adorned walls of stilted houses. He could smell the moonsugar in the air, but not in the unpleasant way you’d find wafting from a run-down skooma den in the middle of Cyrodiil. No, it seemed like it originated from the baked goods one of the traders was setting out for the day. It was enticing, he had to admit.

“I wish I could have bread sometimes… but don’t tell anyone I said that.” she sighed, gazing longingly at the trader’s goods. Sure, there was bone flour, cricket flour, and several other options, but from she’d heard, none of them stood a chance against the real thing.A sudden thought popped into her head. There was something even better. “Actually, give me a moment.”

Marasa wandered over to the baker, Nebarra trailing behind, still taking in the sights and eyeing the other merchants setting up for the day. Everything from dazzling, handwoven fabrics to baskets loaded with fresh, exotic looking produce – he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen this kind of vibrancy. It made Skyrim look washed out and drab, as if every color had faded into the snow. His head snapped back to her, realizing he couldn’t understand a word either were saying. That was Ta’agra, wasn’t it? Huh. Now that he’d seen where she was raised, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she’d know both of the common languages here. Probably came in handy even moreso, given the family business. He snorted. You didn’t have to understand a word to tell she was haggling over something, and by the look of it, she was coming out ahead. A few moments later, she returned with a grin and two small, wrapped packages in hand. She offered one to him, which he took hesitantly.

“Should I even ask what this is?” Though he’d only done a bit of reading about it during the trip, he wasn’t too sure about this Bosmer cuisine. Maybe he’d be completely out of his mind on a moonsugar high, but the Khajiiti food sounded a lot less… suspicious in origin.

“Jagga tarts!” He gave her a blank stare. “It’s like… I guess the closest I can think of is, like a meat pie of sorts? Obviously made with jagga, as well. And before you ask, there’s no people in it.”

He inspected it carefully, not knowing what exactly he was looking for, but doing so nonetheless before taking a tiny bite. It… wasn’t bad. Strange, sure, but actually not bad at all. Taking another, maybe he wouldn’t starve here after all.

“Better than anything a Nord can cook.” he shrugged, Marasa looked more than pleased with herself. Now he was concerned with what else she might convince him to try. “Just… don’t tell me what’s in it.”