#beep writes

[beepitybeepboop]

chat how would we feel if i posted the part one of the logan howlett x reader fic i spontaneously wrote last night at midnight…..

post ?

yeah, post it !

no, fuck off !

Voting ended onSep 8, 2024

[whathebeep]

Hi I just saw that you're taking prompts, are they for fics or hcs? Because if so I'd love something on the concept of Durge and Gortash thinking no one knows about them, but everyone does :)

I saw your post a while ago and just know it wont leave my mind for a long time

Hey!!! Yes truly the requests are for fics or HCS so if you ever wanna request again go for either! ♥️ Though honestly I find when I do fill requests or anything of the sort it becomes an odd mix between a mini fic and a rambling about HCS? Once I finish my main durgetash fic on A03 I'm def gonna do more structured fics about ideas like this 👀 but for now, here's what I got!

PS. This kinda became a POV of sort from Ketheric on their relationship 👀

PPS- I've realized I didn't have a tag for my own writings yet so I'll be making sure to post stuff I've written as #beep writes!

Oh how they think they're so brilliant. They both think themselves so devious- as they are in all their other dealings. Gortash built a weapon's trade empire up from nothing and Durge is the prodigal, chosen child of the god of murder. They have their strengths in the fields they are familiar in. This, however, is something they are not. Neither had truly felt something for another being *ever*.

To Ketheric their feelings to one another was obvious. He was a man who had been in love, after all. In their meetings together he could see the way that they glanced at one another. The way they would sit a little closer, the way they watched, fixated on the way the other spoke. Durge especially. While they were calm and composed, the way they watched Gortash when he spoke...well. it was clear they wanted to do more than just drive a dagger through his throat. Durge would also notable watch Gortash's hands quite a lot, like they were a pendulum and they were under a hypnotic spell.

Gortash was different with it. He would pay attention when Durge spoke, yes, but he was terrible at keeping his facade up. The way his expression would soften, a small smile on his face...he was smitten, too. Forget how absolutely pleased he looked whenever Durge drew their blade and cut into a target. The few times Ketheric asked Durge to deal with a captured harper or a follower who had failed, Gortash would watch with an obsessive fascination. Like he wanted to sing Durge's praises for their mastery with the blade.

It was sick, the way these other chosen looked so hungry for one another. But in a way, Ketheric understood. After all, would one who had never experienced love before not want to consume it with their entire being? He knew little of their pasts, but for chosen like them, love would not be so commonplace. They were like starving mutts, desperate to make their meal last but far too hungry for more more more.

He was glad he put their rooms far from his own.