#<- due to the wearing dog skull thing

[the-crystal-femmes]

Pearl is a little unhinged. She told me that she'd like wearing a dog skull on her head.

[shotmrmiller]

johnny en las almas

It feels like the man with the skull mask had just left when another person traipses in through the broken front door. He's not as sneaky as the big boy— the shattered glass of your windows crunching under his boots with each step. With each inhale, his breath is ragged and uneven, his teeth clattering together due to the biting cold of the rain pouring outside.

Peeking through the crack of the closet door, you watch the muscle-bound soldier with the mohawk moving cautiously through your home— first going left towards your bedroom, then right towards the bathroom.

"Picked up some tape." Scottish accent. Is he talking to himself?

A brief pause settled in the air, interrupted solely by the faint noise of him rummaging through the cupboard.

"If I have to wrap a gift?" He has a radio, then.

Following that, he falls silent, continuing his search for supplies when the plastic bucket you're sitting on unexpectedly caves in, causing a loud and startling noise. Shit. Shit shit shit—

"Out, palms flat on the floor, or I break yer neck." His voice is like steel— hard and cold, much unlike a few minutes before when he was bantering with whoever it was.

You push the door open with the crown of your head to keep your hands flat on the floor as you fearfully crawl out, craning your neck to look at him.

"Creepin' bloody jesus. Cannae be scarin' me like tha', coulda killed ye."

Perhaps it's the overwhelming stress of everything that has unfolded today— from the unexpected arrival of Americans to the uncertainty of becoming just another statistic that leads you to respond with an unwise touch of sarcasm.

"So sorry, friend. I'll be sure to let you know when I leave for work tomorrow, yeah?"

He surprisingly chuckles, wincing when his shoulders shake. "Aye, sorry, sorry," he extends a hand toward you. "Terrible hidin' spot, though."

With a single motion, he effortlessly raises you to your feet. "If you're friends with a bear-sized man that wears a skull mask, he told me the same thing."

As you glance downwards, brushing off the dust from your knees, you fail to notice the piercing gaze he directs towards you. "He came through here?"

"Mhm," you confirm. "Picked me up like a dog and threw me in this closet behind him. He saved my life, though."

Straightening, you glance up at him, only to finally notice the openly bleeding wound on his right arm. "May I?" you gesture at his injury.

His hesitance is obvious, the corner of his thin lips pulling downward and dark brows furrowing so you confess, "I'm a nurse. Well, was, until I came here. I swear to know what I'm doing. Come with me, I've-" but whatever you were about to say is smothered by his hand, fingers digging into your soft cheeks, and uses his other to place a finger over his mouth.

Silence.

He turns his head to the side; an unsettling stillness descending upon the two of you. Suddenly, he's roughly grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the bedroom, where he presses you firmly against the wall closest to the door.

He whispers harshly into your ear. "Do. not. move."

Trembling with fear, you instinctively curl up, shrinking into yourself as if trying to disappear from sight. Luckily, whoever they were left as fast as they came— merely using your home as a shortcut.

Mohawk man takes no chances, however, so you're effectively pinned under him for a considerable amount of time until he deems it completely safe.

The small grin he gives you after is apologetic. "Sorry."

You irritably soothe the ache on your cheeks. "It's alright. Can't wait to get out of this pisshole, though."

He's acquiescent after, letting you quickly clean and dress his wound. "I have no more bandages so this'll have to do." The sound of fabric being torn echoes in the bathroom. "Get seen for this injury as soon as you're able, otherwise you'll have a nasty infection on your hands."

He huffs out a small laugh. "Dinnae ye mean arm?"

Charming. "Your friend left through the back door. That's all I know."

"Aye. Thank ye." He quickly hops off the counter, jogs to the back door, and with one last glance at you, he disappears.

-

"Gimme a sit-rep." Ghost says over comms.

"Outside...Gated alley."

[ellemaru]

"I Like Your Bike"

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: On your way back to the hotel with friends, a shiny black motorcycle that belongs to a mysterious serviceman catches your attention.

Word Count: 1,289 Cw | Mentions of alcohol and intoxication

A/N: The character is implied to be black, but you can imagine them however you like !

Drunken laughter mingled with the sounds of other chatter on the bustling street as you walked with your 2 girlfriends and talked with each other, recapping your first day in Manchester, England, and the first out of many stops on the two-month-long trip in Europe. Your heels had become uncomfortable long ago, making you ever so grateful that you had been smart enough to think to bring a pair of flats along as you indulged in Manchester’s nightlife. The group had barhopped and chatted with strangers all night, getting the full Manchester experience as everyone explored the city and took in the views.

As the group neared their hotel, something shiny appeared in the corner of your eye, causing you to slow down your walking speed, the swinging heels in your hand slowing down as your strides did. Your brown eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to make out what the thing was, struggling due to the fact that it was night and you were nearsighted. As you tapped your friend’s shoulder and began to walk toward the unknown object, your eyes adjusted slightly, realizing it was a motorcycle, one of the nice, slick, black ones.

You mindlessly began to run your hand along the smooth and shiny exterior of the motorcycle until a voice popped you out of the trance.

“Mate, you can’t just touch random people's bikes,” 

When you looked up, you were met with a brick wall in the form of a man. He stood around 6’3 and was obviously jacked based on the way his compression shirt hugged his pectoral muscles and biceps. His bright hazel eyes practically had you hooked already, was it the alcohol, or were they that pretty? No one knows, but you did know that this guy was HOT.

“Uhhh, I um,” you giggled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before remembering that 

You are NOT Debby Ryan and you are NOT on Radio Rebel

You forgot to lay the lace down again by your ear when you installed your wig earlier

The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at you, the action slightly concealed by the black balaclava he wore that had a skull print on it, an interesting choice considering the heat.

“Are you not hot in that mask?”

“Did you not notice your friends aren’t here anymore?” he replied with a teasing tone. 

When you turn around, you see that your friends have indeed left you with the mysterious man and continued on to their hotel.

“Lass, I think you need some better friends,” he let out a quick chuckle, like…the personification of haha.

“Your laugh is funny,” you giggle as you lean in closer to him, looking at the metal tags that hang around his neck. 

“Simon Riley,” you read his name slowly as you looked up, tilting your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was actually his name or if he was wearing a deceased relative's dog tags. He nodded as he looked back down at the smaller woman. They sat in silence for several awkward moments before you decided to break the silence.

“I like your bike,”

“Thanks,” annnnd it was back to silence again

“You don’t talk much,”

“Not much to talk about with a random drunk lass I’ve met,”

“Fair point…What kind of bike is that?” that question was all you needed to get Simon’s attention.

That one question led to a whole conversation as he explained the ins and outs of his bike which was apparently a Yamaha R1 but other than that, he was fluent in yapping. The only thing you were focused on was his deep voice, thick British accent, and the way his compression shirt hugged all the right places on his torso. It seemed he didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes, mainly due to the fact that you had drunk way too much earlier. 

“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked you as he leaned against his bike.

The first thing that ran through your mind was “What kind of ride”.

“Huh?”

“I asked do you want to ride my motorcycle with me, like, do you want to be my backpack?” he asked again, giving his signature, stereotypical haha laugh.

“Oh uhh sure! I mean um that sounds like fun or whatever,” when you caught yourself seeming too eager, you changed up the way you phrased your sentence quickly.

When he turned around to give you a jacket and a helmet, he patted his pockets like he always does when he’s missing something before groaning from annoyance and pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand.

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have an extra jacket or helmet on me right now so it seems we won’t be doing any riding today, but we could always do it another time I guess, dunno,” he mumbled the last part, “How long will you be here in Manchester?” he inquired, wondering how much time he would have before you would leave the city and the country

“I think we’re going to be here for at least another week,” you shrug as you see him frantically pull out his phone, almost dropping it once before he hands it to you, the contact screen open. Once you two exchange numbers, silence falls upon the two of you again.

“I could walk you back to your hotel if you would like, I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night, especially as a tourist. Plus my mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer,” he laughs as he holds out his arm towards you.

“That would be nice,” you smile as you hook your arm in his, your brown skin contrasting with his pale one. He quickly unhooks his arm to place his leather jacket over your shoulders before linking arms again and heading on your way to the hotel. During the walk back, the two of you got to know each other, learning about interests and current status in life along with cracking jokes and just breaking the ice. It was about a 15-minute walk back to the hotel and once the two of you got back, you sighed, a little sad that your time together was already over for the day.

“We’re here. Thank you for walking me back to my hotel again, it was really sweet of you to do this because you really didn’t have to,”

“Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer?” he snapped a flower from a nearby plant and handed it to you, “a pretty flower for the pretty lass,” he winked as you took it.

“Ugh, you Brits are such charmers, I’m quite sad to say that it worked too,” you both laughed for a few moments as he unlinked your arms.

“You free tomorrow at 19:00?”

“I’m so glad I understand military time, and yes I am,”

“Alright lass, I’ll be here in the lobby then, make sure you’re on time,” he gently takes your hand in his gloved one and kisses it through his balaclava. He gives one more wink before he turns on the heels of his combat boots and strides confidently out of the hotel. You stood there, absolutely shocked at what occurred before you realized you still had on his leather jacket. You ran outside to find him and tell him he had forgotten his jacket, but by that time, he had already disappeared into the cool Summer night. At least that meant you were guaranteed to see him tomorrow because there was no way he would just forget the nice leather jacket.

[drowsyhope]

NEVER AGAIN PT.2 - POPPY PLAYTIME

summary ; you finally reconnect with your husband

a/n ; popped this out like it was nothing LMAO

part 1 ; here

warnings ; crying, slight fighting, angst? catnap nowhere to be found, poppy and kissy are like “wow that’s crazy but like we are in great danger -“, mention of reader wearing lipstick

alternative title ; i bet on losing dogs

“but nothing was going to make you leave, nothing was going to make you leave your husband once again. nothing was going to let you from not stopping him as he walked out that door to his job. nothing was going to repeat itself once again.”

your pleads were never heard by his ears again, your kisses and smiles were never going to be seen by his eyes once again. his face wasn’t going to be lathered in red lipstick with his lovesick face as he walked into work, his coworkers smiling and giggling at how silly he looked with the lipstick marks all over his face.

he wasn’t going to see your face ever again. he would never experience growing old with you. he would never be able to have children with you. he won’t be able to travel the world with you. instead, he’s trapped down here, his lower half being ripped off by catnap, that cult follower.

never was he going to see his lover again, he wished he had more time. more time to tell them how much he loved them, how much stress he was under and how he apologized for all the time he had snapped at them. all the time he was never there. all the time were he purposely distant himself.

but now, seeing you, in all your glory. your hair was a bit messed up, you had some blood on your upper lip, you had a grab-pack, your clothes dirty due to how much you have been through.

you still looked as beautiful as he last saw you.

he was given a second chance.

“angel ..” he pleaded with you, but you wouldn’t budge. you weren’t going to let this chance to finally reconnect with your husband just go away.

“nah, i’m not letting this happen again.” you said, going up close to him to try and remove the chains, which was not that hard, surprisingly. they were rusty, and easy to just break in half. rich dogday quickly went flying to the floor, before being picked up.

rich dogday looked up at you, finally seeing you once again. he felt like he could cry, but he physically couldn’t. he wanted to do so many things, but he was so weak.

you were quick to walk out of the jail, holding onto rich dogday, who was quiet the whole time. you were surprised, but had to keep your composure. it wasn’t easy finding your husband as a completely different thing, he doesn’t even seem recognizable.

reaching the maze again, you shoot your flare gun at every moving thing, not having a care in the world. thankfully, you retraced your steps, and you were now where you entered this place.

walking out, poppy and kissy missy greeted you, but were slightly shocked to see a dogday in your arms, who seemed equally as shocked.

“rich ..” poppy whispered, making you carefully put him on the floor, your emotions threatening to release. everything happened so suddenly. you were reunited with your husband, and now you have to make sure catnap isn’t out to get you.

“it’s been so long, poppy ..” rich dogday said, grumbling as he tried to get into a more comfortable position.

“yeah. it has.” poppy looked up at kissy, who just looked away. “what happened to playcare?” rich dogday asked, looking around and taking in the new scenery. poppy sighs, gulping. she looked stressed, taking a look around, taking a look at kissy, then taking a look at you.

you looked traumatized, your eyes having dark eyebags under them. your eyes were starting to get watery, just looking at dogday just made you want to dig your fingers into your skull and take your brain out yourself.

you want to hate him. you want to hate what your husband had become. what he made you felt when he went missing and presume dead. you want to hate him for how much tears he made you cried out, how you were alone as you struggled with his ‘death.’

“a lot.” was all poppy said, looking down at her own shoes. dogday nodded slightly, reading the room. everyone else was uncomfortable, it was quite a scene to see.

dogday turned around, taking in your figure, finally realizing how you actually look like. you looked nothing like you used to did when he last saw you. you looked more angrier, sadder, stressed.

“angel—“

“don’t say a single fucking word.”

rich dogday was taken aback by your sudden outburst. poppy took a step back, knowing what was going to happen. she heard the cries you let out when you heard rich’s voice in the video tape, hearing him yell about how he hated his job, how he mentioned you that one time.

“you have no right to call me by anything. not after what you fucking did. you left me rich! you fucking left me! i had to plan your funeral alone! i had to cry alone! even before you become this thing, i was alone! you weren’t there half of the fucking time.”

your emotions were going out, your breathing was fastening every second. rich was taken aback once again, hearing all that you had to endure.

“yeah you got turned into dogday. but for God sake! i was alone! i had nobody to go to! yeah i wasn’t tortured, but mentally, i was. everyday i thought you didn’t love me. every time you left that door i thought you loved me less and less. and when you didn’t walk through that door again, i knew. i f-fucking knew! you weren’t going t-to come back! i was going to officially and permanently be alone! but now, you’re here! and ..and ..”

you stuttered through your rant, your breathing being uncontrollable. poppy and kissy felt horrible for you, they knew some parts about how you felt, but not the whole thing.

rich on the other hand, was completely shocked. he never knew you were personally going through something, he always thought you were happy, because every time you left, you always had a smile on your face.

your fingers made their way to your hair, purposely pulling on it. you screamed, not having a care in the world. all of this you had to take in, being chased by huggy wuggy, almost being killed by mommy long legs, now catnap on your tail? it was a lot of stress built up over time. you wished catnap could just burn alive, you wanted everything to go back to normal.

you wanted to go back when you got married, where you were happily in love with rich, where the two of you had heart eyes for each other, when you kissed him everyday all over his face.

but now, you can’t even recognize him. you don’t even know him. it’s like he’s a completely different person, and so are you.

but yet, your love for him is still there. no matter how much he has changed. you will always be in love with your first love, your first husband, your first everything.

you sighed, seeing as rich was just staring at you, but you can imagine him crying as well. “but alas, i still love you. even though you aren’t here anymore.”

it felt like a knife stabbed him in the heart and kept repeating it. you still loved him, but he wasn’t there anymore. the rich you knew wasn’t the one you were standing in front of. rich was a completely different thing now, it was never going to be the same.

rich wasn’t there no more, it was dogday now, and it was going to stay like that forever, no matter what. never again to be seen as the rich he was once before.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

School-side Staycation - Staff Shenanigans

@ashipiko has a super fun 1k follower event going on that reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend a While ago!! I decided to turn it into a drabble, so I hope you guys enjoy some NRC Staff Shenanigans!! (Including my staff/greenhouse caretaker oc, Aspen Zoi - I apologize in advance for the stim word "like" OTL if you don't check out his profile, just know he speaks like your stereotypical surfer/hippie/stoner)

Also apologies OTL I have to write on my phone due to Technical Difficulties, RIP my formatting. Um just as a heads up, there is some food talk in regards to calories and dieting. It's not talked about a lot, but it is in there.

Also also this is my first time writing all the staff together so I hope it's at least entertaining!

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

"Turkey burgers, really Divus, I'd have thought better of you." Mozus scoffed lightheartedly over the younger man's shoulder, watching the black latex clad hands work in a mix of shredded vegetables into the meat.

Crewel raised a questioning brow to his senior, using his shoulder to push away hair from his face for the upteenth time that day. Even with his dark shades on, both the unamusement and the spark of competitiveness was felt to be fanned.

"Well, Mozus, if you cared to ever look past those dusty old history books of yours and indulge in the dietary world, you would know that ground turkey-"

"Sucks. It sucks." Vargas interrupted, shaking his head in disappointment. He was wearing near neon orange shorts and a white tank top, though clearly splattered with some stains from his preparation, shades sat nicely atop his lofty locks. His food was currently concealed in the two heaping platters he had under aluminum foil as he set them down on the table next to the barbeque. "It's got less protein, less iron, less zinc, and more sodium than ground beef. It has a little more 'healthy' fat," the air quotes were heavily emphasized by the gym teacher, "but for Sevens sake Divus, it's supposed to be a vacation sort of thing. Let the kids loose for a little while."

An audible "hmph" left the alchemy professor, moreso at Trein's smug grin than Ashton as he refocused on his work. His UV protectant, black, long sleeve shirt was rolled up to his elbows, a simple red short sleeve button up layered on top. "Not everyone can afford to give up their calorie intake over a vacation."

"Then you may as well have just made black bean patties and volunteered yourself to make the vegan option."

Trein sighed and shook his head at Ashton's apparent naivety as he opened his grill, throwing a few patties on. Perhaps his air of superiority would have been less humorous if not for the cargo shorts, white shirt, the blue, green, pink and yellow tropical overshirt, the matching, tropical bucket hat, and the apron that read "Grillmaster", but Trein continued anyways.

"He's using the leftovers of his dogs food that he thawed and forgot to use."

An awkward silence filled the air between the three of them, save for the soft sizzling of Treins burgers and the distant sounds of their beloved students having fun. Ashton spoke up in near disbelief.

"....Divus is that-"

The older of the two suppressed a scowl, trying to play it off best he could as he waved off his former underclassmans concern.

"Ground turkey is ground turkey, how I was going to use it is irrelevant! Really now Mozus was that necessary?!"

Vargas exchanged glances with Trein, before grinning a little more, willing to 'poke the bear'.

"I know you call them your pups but..."

Crewel felt his eye twitch slightly. Not much got to him, but the implication that 1. His dogs weren't incredibly dear to him, and 2. That his students weren't held to the same regard as his dogs in terms of how he cared for them, was not something he felt he could articulate well enough to get it through Ashton's thick, thick skull.

" It's still perfectly fine food, it's ought to be better than whatever Dire has!"

In an attempt to get the attention off of him for once, Crewel directed his, and his colleagues attention to the approaching headmage, ignoring the soft snickers behind him from Ashton for the sake of his sanity.

The headmage wore a huge grin under the stupid mask of his, dressed in his normal vacation attire. His arms were outstretched, as if anyone there would hug him as a greeting - none of them would, but especially not now that one was grilling, the other had his hands plunged into raw meat, and the third...well Vargas wasn't doing anything that would impede him from doing so, but he pretended to look busy as he fidgeted with the aluminum foil from one of his platters, careful to not lift it up.

Trein glanced at the headmage as he joined them under the white tents, his clawed gloves drawing most of his attention as Dire lowered his arms to his sides.

"Dire. What are you bringing to cook?"

The headmage looked at him blankly before smiling, chuckling a little awkwardly as he took his hat off and held it to his chest. As if he didn't already look pathetic, now he looked like he was going to apologize, and the staff in front of him already looked unamused.

"Ehe, well you see, I was generous enough to allow our students host this event-"

Knowing glances were exchanged between the three as Crowley continued.

"So neeever did I ever think my kindness would be taken advantage of like so! After all the budgeting and set up and organizing and ordering and nights laying awake and wondering how to make today the best success it could be, I didn't think I would be expected to cook too!"

The masked man rested the back of his hand against his head dramatically, trying and failing to gain the sympathy of the staff who all very well knew he had signed off on the event, and being a part of the catering. Hell, he had admitted it himself- he hadn't done any of that. That was all part of hosting, something that had very much not been on his shoulders, like many other responsibilities this year.

Vargas moved to the table across from Crewel, starting to make a protein-packed sauce to go with his still-mystery food, shooting Crowley a bit of a shit-eating grin.

"Well I guess you better go buy hotdogs or something from Sam's and be prepared to lose."

An indignant squawk left Dire, his dramatic display clearly not working in his favour, and he couldn't fathom why.

"Lose??"

"Hot stuff comin' through! And it ain't just me-"

Sam wheeled a tri-level service cart over the grass with ease, thanks to magic, each level with absolutely delicious smelling, but hidden food. Aspen followed close behind, Willow, his Pekin duck toddling after him.

Dire moved out of the way so as to let the trio through, Sam moving next to Vargas and starting to load tray after tray onto the serving table, a determined and slightly crazed expression on his face.

"Ain't nobody beatin' Mama's mac'n cheese recipe. Not even your fancy ass brisket Ashton, don't pretend like that ain't whatchyer tryna hide under there, I know you too damn well fo' you to try an' hide it."

Vargas and Same broke into easy conversation as Aspen hung back with Crowley, who was still visibly confused. He looked down at his hands, as if they held the answer to his questions.

"Lose?? Beating his mother's recipe??? What have I missed????"

Aspen's single, amused "haaah" was rather annoying to the headmage. Despite the sharp turn of his head and the glare he directed at Aspen, he just gave him his same old dopey grin.

"Aww man, you really didn't, like, read anything you signed, did ya? The teacher who like... looses the cook off gets pelted with water balloons by like...the whooole student body. It would really suck if one of us forgot to bring something. It'd be like...immediate disqualification or whatever."

The blond tilted his head a bit and giggled as he watched a few of the students play volleyball not far from them, oblivious to the rising panic on the headmage's face.

"But you haven't brought anything?! So what if two faculty members didn't bring anything?! The penalty is halved, right?!"

Aspen let out a small laugh.

"Hah. As if. Babygirl and I made seven layer salad, which is like, on Sam's cart, and a buncha desserts last night, isn't that right?" He bent down to pick up Willow, kissing her head as he cradled her. "I mean sure, baking isn't, like, COOKING but I don't think anybody is gonna complain about brownies 'nd, like, homemade ice cream, y'know? I just gotta wait to bring it out cuz..like....the ice cream...duh."

He waited a beat, the rising panic from the man beside him finally catching on. He was about to ask, but Crowley was on his knees next to Sam in a split second, holding his hand and groveling.

"PLEASE- no, actually, as your boss, I DEMAND you open your shop and sell me the best cuts of meat- no, actually, I want as many tube's of ground beef, ah, no, Trein is already- ground PORK-"

Sam shook his hand away from Crowley in mild disgust.

"Oh hell no, might I remind ya, I'm on vacation, as are the rest of us and the little imps. If you want to serve hot dogs, you'll have to go into town and move fast. Otherwise you're gonna have to embrace your fate of death by a thousand waterballoons." Sam swapped the position of one of his trays with Vargas' platter, so as to get his jerk chicken onto the grill after changing his glove out for an untouched one.

"With all due respect, your poor plannin' does NOT constitute an emergency on my part, Mr. Crowley, Sir."

Dire let out an undignified noise at Sam's facetiousness and lack of cooperation.

Trein looked down at the rather defeated looking headmage and sighed at the mess of a man, shaking his head again in disappointment.

"For Sevens sake, pull yourself together Dire. You could go ask the ghosts in the Cafeteria if they've got anything they'll lend you to cook."

Crowley looked like a kicked puppy at Trein for a moment before standing back up, beaming and near launching himself at him for a hug, which Trein avoided as if this was something that happened often. Despite not getting what he wanted, Crowley clearly had new vigor.

"Ah! You're right. Of course, if the ghosts are there I could- hm! Nevermind, nevermind, yes thank you my dear friend, I knew you wouldn't let me suffer! Unlike SOME people." He shot a fake dirty look at the rest of his beloved faculty, only to be met with snickers and mildly amused expressions. Yes, even with all their jests and disagreements, these were the people he felt most comfortable around. His expression softened for a half second before he clapped twice and smiled widely again.

"I'll be back with something delicious! I swear to defeat you all!" His voice lilted playfully, before he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

A shared sigh came from Trein and Crewel, amusing their younger colleagues with the similarity.

Crewel wiped at his head with his shoulder again, grinning knowingly at Trein.

"Mozus."

"Divus." Trein kept his focus trained on his burgers, though his voice had an air of amusement to it, and it was clear the corner of his mouth was kicked up in a small smile.

"Were you really trying to be of assistance?"

Crewel finished rolling the last of his turkey blend into disks, turning his full attention to his conniving collegue.

Trein hummed a bit in response.

"Yes. Not to him, to us, but his absence makes it much easier to concentrate."

Crewel shed his latex gloves, put some hand sanitizer on and walked over to 'supervise' Trein's grill, before grabbing a patty that was cooked and looking over it in mild disgust.

"Concentrate on what, perfecting a burn on your patties, oh 'grillmaster'" he mocked, breaking a piece off and eating it, hardly hiding his distaste.

"Ah, I see, you're trying to make up for your lack of seasoning using charcoal, well old man I can guarantee the turkey burgers you were so quick to dismiss will certainly be better than that piece of semi-edible Sahara."

Trein sighed, annoyed, plucking the rest of the patty from Crewel's fingers and throwing it out.

"I always burn my first one. It guarantees I won't burn the rest of them. If you used those astute powers of observation you're so proud of, you'd have seen the rest of the burgers are cooked beautifully."

He lifted the foil just enough to show Crewel the admittedly, mouth-wateringly delicious looking patties underneath, though Divus refused to show any indication that he was impressed.

"They're still bland. The students don't have a grandpa stomach like you."

Trein rolled his eyes internally, huffing, but even Sam and Aspen snickered at the comment.

"It will be fine once I make my sauce to go with them. My daughters love my cooking, I'm sure our students will as well. You have your dogs as reference for your tastes. I would be more worried if I was in your shoes."

Crewel moved towards Sam, who made room for him, moving his chicken to the top rack so Divus could use the main part of the grill to start cooking.

"You say that as if I don't cook for myself either. Really Mozus, I'm hurt by how lowly you think of me. Besides, I understand cooking as not only an art, but from the very chemical bases of it. I have every confidence that if no one else, I will be getting votes from Pomefiorians."

Aspen snorted from behind him, waving his hand dismissively.

"Nahh, Poms are gonna go for Sam's mac or, like, his chicken. They're like, tired of eating that Vil guys super bland food. Ya might, like, get Vil himself? Maybe? But I feel like he's prolly just gonna beeline it to my salad cuz of that new green diet thing one a his freshies said he's on. I only know cuz like, they were getting veggies from the greenhouse. If anything, I think ya might pull a few votes from Savanaclaw, but like, to be honest, even as a vegetarian, Ashton's brisket looks really good and prolly will come in after Sam's food."

Crewel let out a soft sigh, but Vargas was beaming, as Sam and Aspen exchanged finger guns and a wink. Trein squinted slightly at his watch.

"Lunch is meant to be in about 45 minutes. Aspen, Vargas, seeing as the two of you have nothing better to do, I suggest you start cutting up veggies for the burgers and fruit for after. Just make sure to use some hand sanitizer first."

The two exchanged a glance, both mouthing a mocking, lighthearted 'yes dad' behind Trein's back, making Sam snicker a bit.

"Dontchya worry Mozus, they got it covered."

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

And that's where my brain stopped RIP

In case you're wondering, Crowley showed up like 3 hours late and got ambushed. It's okay though his "food" would have put him in last place anyways.

I'm not used to typing things like this out on my phone, and I'm even less used to reading them so this is not proofread or betaread or like. I'm not. Rereading it so here's to hoping it flows okay and it's as engaging as I think it is lol.

ANYWAYS thank you for such a fun event Ashi!!

Taglist: (ask to be added)

@fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain

[thatdeathwitch]

About King Hades (Haides)

Haides is the god of the dead and King of the Underworld. Even if He rules over the dead he is not death itself, that would be Thanatos as he is the god of non-violent death or gentle death. King Haides also presides over funeral rites and defends the right of the dead to due burial. Because of that and He’s connotations the the earth, he is also considered as the god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil with nourished the seed-grain, to the mined wealth of gold, silver and other metals.

King Haides is the son of Kronos, god of time and the King of the Titanes and Rhea, the Titaness mother of the gods and goddess of female fertility, motherhood and generation*. In the myths, Haides desired a bride and when He asked one to King Zeus, He offered Persephone to Him.

Symbols and Correspondences:

- Main symbol: Royal sceptre, cornucopia, keys, Kerberos

- Sacred plants/trees: Asphodel, mint, white poplar, cypress

- Colours: Black, maroon colours, white, earth colours (mostly greens and browns)

- Animals: Dogs, Screech-owl

- Crystals: Black tourmaline, black onyx, black obsidian, jade

Devotional acts:

Offerings ideas: flowers or herbs associated with him, skulls, pomegranate, art of Himself and things He’s associated with, candles, feathers, crystals, incenses (myrrh, franckincens, mint), milk, honey, red wine, black coffee.

Devotional acts: visit graveyards, honour the dead, meditate with Him, read His myths, write Him letters or notes, sing, dance, take walks on nature, appreciate the changes that the seasons bring us, wear jewellery on His honor, honouring Persephone.

Recommended readings for a better understanding:

- Hesiod, Theogony. It describes the entire cosmology and creation of the gods, including the birth of Haides.

- Homeric hymn to Demeter. It describes the rape of Persephone. It’s probably one of His most known episodes. It also describes the division of the cosmos between Haides, Zeus and Poseidon.

- Plato, Gorgias. Specifically 523a as it also describes the appointment of the judges of the dead and the division of the cosmos.

- Plato, Republic. Specifically 10.614–10.621 as it explains the myth of Er. This myth describes the path of the dead in the afterlife.

[minecraftbookshelf]

Life Series Scarring Headcanons: Part 2

All the disclaimers and explanations are on Part 1, so if you haven't seen that one yet, I recommend hopping over there real quick.

Some of these do get a bit...graphic? Specific? Something along those lines. I kind of split the middle ground between Video Game and more realistic injuries. (Did I spend way to long thinking about specifics of murder and death for this? I plead the fifth.)

This one is Grian, ImpulseSV, InTheLittleWood, and LDShadowLady

Lessgo!

Grian

Third Life: In my mind's eye Grian has always turned to look at the sky after his leap from the cactus ring, so the death blow was to the back of his head.

Last Life: Scott killed him when the late-game reds banded together to hunt down Grian and Joel. The other members of the alliance dealt damage, but Scott got the final hit in. Grian was fleeing at the time, so the scar is on his back, above his wings.

Double Life: Because sonic booms don't leave external evidence so much as they remove your insides from anything vaguely approaching a solid state, there isn't a scar as such from this death. There is a mark though, mid-mass. (it is not concentric circles, that's just what I put on the diagram to mark the location)

Limited Life: Fall damage again, based off the "camera angle" the general vibe I got was that Grian could have tried to catch himself on his hands as he fell. From that height, it was futile and there are faint marks on his wrists where the bone poked through as well as the actual death blow to the side of his forehead. Bird Man needs to stop falling off things fr.

Impulse

Third Life: Bdubs shot him after Scar gave him a clock in the most infamous backstabbing in the series to date. Usually when Bdubs shot someone I place the mark a bit lower, but they were on a bit of a hill at the time.

Last Life: In what was something of the fashion on the Last Life server, Scott shot him. He was trying to flee when he was shot, so I placed the mark at the base of his skull. (If only they were able to wear helmets)

Double Life: Pearl killed Bdubs with a blow to the front, so Impulse has a fainter scar from that death.

Limited Life: In the new contender for most infamous backstabbing in the series (poor Impulse has some rotten luck here) Martyn pretended to go along with the "disarm and fight it out" plan only to turn on them and seize the victory. Impulse wasn't wearing his armor, so the final blow was a sword through his torso that severed his spine.

Martyn

Third Life: Martyn died in the Battle of Dogwarts, to an arrow from Scar. Due to how helter skelter the melee was, I opted to have it be an off-center shot that tore the side of his neck, so it is not a clean mark. (It mirrors Ren's on the opposite side)

Last Life: He was blown up by his own end crystal, (probably triggered by a potion Scott threw) which was placed level with the top half of his body and he was literally right next to it facing it. He didn't even have time to try and shield himself with his arms.

Double Life: He died when Cleo took fall damage while fleeing from Pearl and her dogs. This is one where I took some creative liberties and opted to have the fall damage interpret as a tree branch that Cleo landed on with the full force of their own body weight, impaling herself by accident.

Limited Life: Whether going with his time ran out or Grian smote him, either way it is a death by lightning and the scars are lichtenberg figures down his chest and arm and a little bit his back. The smitey-lightning always goes for the heart, so he and Scott match now. (it also leaves a mark on the sole of the foot when it exits the body and enters the ground, but that doesn't show on the diagram.)

Lizzie

She has only perma-died in one season, even though she has technically been in two. In Last Life she ultimately died to fall damage while trying to fight back and escape from BDubs when he betrayed the other reds. Her scar is hidden by her hair.

-

Part 1

Part 3

[gingerjolover]

Sweet Angel - Lucy Dacus x Reader

Sypnosis: Lucy's gf has chronic pain, so she wears many different hats - nurse, dog mom, and sweet angel from heaven above

G's notes: surprise shawtayyy (also I love my tens machine lol)

WC: somewhere around 2k (woweeee)

Warnings: RPF, tooth-rotting fluff, chronic pain, physical therapy marks, no fundamental physical descriptors?

The house is dark, way darker than it should be for the afternoon, automatically sending Lucy on high alert. She sighs softly, putting to the universe that you’re just napping and not having a flare-up. Trying to be quiet as she walks into your shared home, she sees your dog Murphy’s head rising from the couch, immediately knowing that you’re indeed having a flare-up and you've unknowingly shut the door on your poor Murphy in your pain-induced haze. Recognizing one of his humans, he stands up, stretching before wobbly walking over to Lucy, his tail wagging. ”Is mama sleeping, Murph? Hm?” Lucy asks, leaning down and scratching his chin. Lucy treads quietly, placing her keys down on the thrifted hall table. Toeing her shoes off, she puts a Trader Joe’s and her studio bag on the dining room table. 

She quietly pads up the stairs, her heart cracking when she sees you laying face down on your shared head, a heating pad on your back, an ice pack on your neck. 

“Hi, love,” Lucy says softly. 

You groan in response painfully; Lucy notices. 

"Hey," you exhale through clenched teeth. Your voice is raspy, and it takes a few tries just to say that one word. You slowly roll over on your side, keeping close to your heating pad and ice pack.

"Rough day, huh?" Lucy whispers, her heart aching as she sees the state you're in. The pain in your voice is evident, even when you say very little. Lucy’s hand lifts your shirt, checking on your skin, constantly wary that you’ll burn your skin in desperation for some relief. She immediately notices the deep bruised circles on your back, wincing when she realizes you went to physical therapy this morning. 

“Sarah did some cupping, I see… how was therapy?” she asks softly, trailing her fingers over the marks.

“F-Fine,” you slur, teeth chattering from the sheer uncomfortableness. “I was fine all day… had lunch and then I walked Murphy and got home and… it hurts Luce,” voice trembling, tears leaking onto the pillow. 

"I know, I know," Lucy whispers soothingly, reaching out her hand to gently rub your back as she speaks. "I'm so sorry, baby. Do you want me to bring you some ibuprofen or your tens machine? What do you need?" Lucy does her best to keep her voice and tone gentle to avoid triggering an even more intense flare-up. She doesn't want you to feel more pain than you already are and wants to take care of you.

“I don’t know,” you sob softly, rubbing your eyes furiously. 

"Okay, hang on, sweet girl," Lucy says, her voice still gentle and soothing. She leaves the room momentarily and returns with ibuprofen and your tens machine. She helps you sit up more and then puts the tens machine around your back, emitting a subtle buzzing sound. She gently squeezes your hand with her own, offering some support and reassurance. "Would it help you if I made dinner and did the dishes tonight?" she asks.

“I’m not hungry,” you sniffle softly, the pain radiating up your back, throbbing deep into your skull. 

"I know," Lucy sighs quietly. "But you have to eat, love. Let me make you something light, just a little bit of something, okay?" Lucy gently strokes your hair back with her fingers, her tone still soft and caring. "You want some sourdough toast? An apple with peanut butter? I bought those crunchy things from Trader Joe’s that you like…" she offers. 

Your whimpers are response enough, her hand rubbing the back of your neck, knowing food is the last thing you want right now. “Do you want your migraine cap?” Lucy asks gently. 

“No, not now,” you respond, slurring softly. 

“When are you due for another injection, my love?” Lucy asks, rubbing your scalp. 

“Uhhhh….” it hurts to think, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Okay, okay… I’ll just look at the Google calendar; just relax,” Lucy says, cringing, reprimanding herself for asking so many questions.

Lucy gently pulls you to her chest, your face resting against her chest, cheeks smushed against her shirt. She rubs your hair gently, her other hand adjusting the pads of the tens. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice muffled against Lucy’s t-shirt. 

Lucy holds you close, her heart breaking as she listens to your words. She knows how much this pain takes a toll on you, the unpredictability always throwing you through a loop. She strokes your hair softly, her face frowning when she thinks of how you dealt with this while she was gone. She knows you’re capable, but there’s a part of her riddled with guilt when she’s away having the time of her life touring and traveling, knowing you’re home in a similar position to now. She has to commend you when you are up and moving around again. She’s been home precisely 11 days while on a break before the next leg of the tour, and this is your first flare-up, your commitment to pain management and self-care paying off. 

“What time is it?” you mumble groggily, cheeks wet and flushed, eyes puffy. 

"It's a little after 6:30," Lucy gently murmurs, holding you close. She strokes your hair and your back with her hand, trying to offer some comfort despite the numbness you often feel in your head. She could tell that the flare-up had been particularly rough on you, and she knew that the pain had only exacerbated your exhaustion. She wanted you to get some rest, even though you were likely to toss and turn from the pain. 

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closing, the ibuprofen and tens finally kicking in. 

“When did you walk, Murphy?” Lucy asks softly to gauge how long you’ve been lying in bed. 

“I don’t know… 3:30… maybe,” you slur, words soft and quiet. 

"That makes sense," Lucy whispers, her eyes on you as you slowly begin to relax and your eyelids droop. She smiles lovingly, her finger trailing down your face. She felt a little better seeing the tension in your face release and the creases between your eyebrows start to smooth out. 

She lays down next to you on the bed, her legs wrapped around yours, wanting to be close to you as you begin to rest. She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you."

“Love you,” you mumble back, the faintest hint of a smile on your face, eyebrows finally relaxed. 

Lucy smiles softly as you say those words, her worries and anxieties slowly dissipating as she watches you fall asleep beside her. She worried about you and was scared to see you in pain. But the tiny smile on your face and the fact that you were finally falling asleep and getting some rest was a huge relief. 

Lucy watches you sleep for a while, Murphy moving up on the bed and a little too close for comfort for Lucy. She stands, tucking you in softly, removing the melted ice pack from your neck, and adjusting the heat pad further up your back. 

She beckons Murphy to the stairs; he’s staring at you in bed, whining softly. “Come on, Murph, potty time,” Lucy calls, trying to get him out of your bed and out of the bedroom. 

Murphy slowly gets off the bed, his ears drooping a bit. He doesn't want to leave you while you're sleeping, his stance at the foot of your bed almost protective. “Murphy, come,” Lucy says sternly, her tone soft enough to not wake you. He whines again, not wanting to leave but knowing he'll get much-needed attention and love once he goes outside with Lucy. 

"It's okay, Murph," she tells him quietly. She strokes his head and gives him a few scratches behind the ears, trying to gently encourage him to go outside. After a few more moments, Murphy finally gives in and follows Lucy down the stairs.

While Murphy does his business, Lucy can’t help but admire the sun setting, the sky awash with shades of orange, yellow, and pink. The trees and buildings cast long shadows across the skyline, and the view from your back porch was stunning. Lucy couldn't help but snap a few photos to capture the moment, knowing that it was something that you would love.

Eventually, she and Murphy return inside, throwing him a small treat and watching him gulp water as she fills his food bowl with dinner. She returns to the dining table, finally putting away the groceries, wincing when she remembers her perishables, but it hadn’t been that long. She moves about the kitchen, putting dry goods into jars and boxes in the pantry. While cleaning, Lucy can see the exact moment the flare-up started based on the random assortment of things lying out in the kitchen and moving into the living room. 

Lucy makes a quick little snack plate, knowing fully well you will only touch some of it. She fills up your huge water bottle with ice water and walks up the stairs, Murphy at her heels, excited for your bedroom door to be open again. 

Lucy gently nudges the door with her knee, and Murphy rushes in, excited to see you after being out. She places everything on the nightstand before moving to the bathroom to run a hot bath with Epsom salt, throwing some towels in the warmer, a thoughtful gift from Phoebe last Christmas. She returns to the bedroom, greeting you by kneeling on the floor near the bed, kissing your nose and cheek softly, her knuckle gently brushing your cheekbone. 

“Hmm?” you hum, eyes closed, feeling a nudging on the bed, Murphy’s nose gently pushing the back of your knee. Opening your eyes, Lucy is in view, her bright eyes and wide smile, soft features. “You look like an angel,” you murmur playfully, eyes crusty and cheek squished against the pillow. 

Lucy chuckles softly as you call her an angel, her face turning a bright shade of pink as she smiles softly. She gently brushes some of the tears from your face, her thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You need a minute to wake up?” she asks, unplugging your heating pad and checking the skin of your upper back again. You shake your head gently, the position becoming uncomfortable. “Hold on, sweetheart, give me a second,” Lucy says, tapping your shoulder as she pulls off the wires from your tens. 

“Bathtime," she teases, her voice still soft and gentle. She knew you were still in pain, and the exhaustion was catching up to you, but she wanted to make you comfortable. 

“You ran me a bath?” you ask, words still slurred from sleep. 

"Yes, I did," she chuckles softly, her face still flushed as she gently helps you sit up. She takes your hand and helps you swing your legs off the bed, trying to help you get your bearings. "It's just about ready. Do you want some help walking to the tub?" she asks gently.

“Please,” you whisper, eternally grateful for your sweet angel of a partner. 

"Of course, lovie," Lucy says softly, heart aflutter at your softness. She wraps her arm around your back and helps you walk down the short hallway and into the bathroom. She gently supports you until you're sitting on the closed toilet, and then she starts to help you undress. She's careful to keep you comfortable and not push you too much, but she also knows that soaking will help with some pain. “Arms up…atta girl,” she teases, lifting your shirt over your head. 

Lucy helps you slowly into the tub, hissing at the temperature and then relaxing in the hot water. A small smile grows on your face, almost bashful to sit in front of Lucy this way, even though this is common. 

 “Thank you,” you say, voice thick with emotion. Lucy sits down next to the tub, Murphy lying at her feet. 

"You're welcome, my love," Lucy whispers, her voice still gentle and caring. She leans against the tub, rubbing your knee, her eyes on you as you settle in and relax. Murphy’s head lifts to look at you softly, sighing contentedly and enjoying the quiet moment with his moms. The combination of the warmth of the bath and the Epsom salt helps to soothe your muscles and help you relax, and Lucy and Murphy are thrilled to see you finally getting a break from the pain.

[lizardtheartist]

So I came up with a concept of my own multiverse night at the inventory thing, featuring ghost max….

We have 10 players in total: Sam, Demon Sam, Swap Sam, Samantha, Werewolf Sam, Max, Saint Max, Swap Max, Maxine, and our beloved Ghost Max.

The Sams and the Maxs both play at their own tables, talking to their own groups, like that extremely awesome Ao3 Fic, credit to the writer for coming up with that idea/srs.

Info about these certain multiverse sams and maxs:

Sam: just your average canon Sam, he’s been through all the stuff that happened in the games/cartoon/comics, he’s the Sam ever. Just this time, with a dead Max and an alive Max companions.

Demon Sam: After becoming the new ruler of the underworld, he’s decided to take it easy in life, or unlife? He doesn’t have as many Satan-y responsibilities as he thought he would, so he just hangs out with his very adorable angel husband. He has a more stern demeanor but he means well, I think? Him and Saint Max are called the Freelance Holy Ones. (Despite how unholy the two can really be)

Swap Sam: Sam but instead of being a more levelheaded detective, he’s almost just like normal Max in every way possible, yes, even height wise. Swap Sam is everything you could ever want in a rabid dog, he even probably has rabies. He loves to run around and cause trouble, he gets mistaken for a puppy sometimes due to his height and chubby physique. Him and Swap Max are still called the Freelance Police.

Samantha: Samantha (Sam for short but that gets confusing fast.) is literally just Sam but he’s wearing more feminine clothes. Honestly you could look at em and just assume it’s Sam in his drag persona. Samantha acts a bit more feminine than Sam as well, but not too much to make it obnoxious. I like to think she has a very nice and smooth middle age woman voice? I’m not sure how to explain it. Her and Maxine are still the Freelance Police as expected.

Werewolf Sam: This Sam has been a werewolf ever since he was little, inherited from his parents, he had the ability to transform into a werewolf during a classic full moon, but recently, as he’s gotten older, the werewolf part has since become more prominent and now he’s more werewolf than normal dog. He doesn’t entirely mind this, even though he has violent tendencies more often, he’s still a very wholesome and sweet guy, Max calls him his big ol’ dangerous teddy bear. Max is his werewolf caretaker, after formerly being a werewolf hunter, he decided to give up the job in order to support his Sam.

Max: Everyone’s favorite little lagomorph, he’s the same ol’ max from the ending of 305. We all know him, we all love him.

Saint Max: Saint Max is everything holy and good in the world, which is what he likes to think he is. Saint Max often acts nice and chipper, always seeing the best of EVERYTHING ever but underneath that thinly veiled self, there’s a thirsty little bastard gremlin who can be a brat sometimes. People think that some of Demon Sam had rubbed off on Saint Max, but no, that’s how he’s always been.

Swap Max: Swap Max is basically just Max but with Sam’s personality, but I made this personality slightly more edgy like Noir Sam. Why? Cus I thought it’d be interesting. Swap Max is still a rabbity thing, but he’s much taller now, he’s also bulked up slightly but not much. He still has a comedic side like Sam but it comes out a little less, but one thing I do know, is that he uses long winded words and sentences just like any normal Sam would.

Maxine: Maxine is EXACTLY like Max, in almost every way, she’s just Max with a bow around her neck and some yass queen earrings. Her voice is slightly raspier and her mannerisms have a touch of feminine traits, but she’s still just Max in a cute lil bow.

Ghost Max: Ghost Max is just Max before 305, coming back down from space, he hangs out with Sam and Max as their “ghost buddy” because they still haven’t gotten it through their thick skulls that the ghost is just Max. Ghost Max can play with both the Sams and the Maxs, because no one actually sees him, they just see floating cards that he’s holding. He’s equipped with a red marker, he can write simple words and drawings on a notepad or something. It’s supposed to look like blood but he didn’t have any spare blood on hand. Ghost Max has the ability to cheat and switch cards around. If this poker night game was a real thing, the player would probably be Ghost Max himself.

A quick look at the cast themselves:

(All credit for the multiverse poker idea goes to SofiaTheRandomDemon on Ao3, if you see this Sofia, your shit is written so well on GOD) (also credit to @impostorwhipplesshow for the insane idea of ghost max joining in on the poker stuff)

[notknickers]

you should have picked the killing machine

synopsis: another day. another crisis. another session.

warnings/tags: unethical power imbalance, dominant!reader/submissive!könig, mummy!reader/pup!könig, cocksucking, drooling, muffdiving, vaginal penetration, könig is a fast shooter (that's the real reason why he never made the cut for sniper),premature ejaculation fetish, crying, cum eating, praise, size difference

audiences: strictly adult

word count: 2736

a/n: this... uh... this is an impromptu fic that came out of nowhere, started a specific way, but then derailed towards the end because of a different idea that took hold of me, but refused to let me go until i wrote it.

also, yes, i am aware that littles usually go with caregivers (mummies, daddies, others) and handlers with pups and kittens. but i also firmly believe that we make our kind of relationships in a way that fits us, not the opposite.

if könig wants to be something in between a guard dog* and a cuddly puppy who's more in need of a mummy, than a handler, then, by all the gods real and imagined, that is what i will give him.

* i trust we shall get to this one, eventually.

people who asked to be tagged: @kathy-ifnt

as usual, no one under 18 below the cut

one would think könig’s disfigurement would make it unpleasant to stare at his face, the way his lips do not merge as fully as they should when his mouth is closed, due to all the thick scar tissue on them and his lower face that force some rigidity, interfering with the fluid movements of his facial muscles.

it’s barely noticeable, really, after all the years the colonel has had to live with his injuries and their consequences. but the way the two of you interact make it difficult to conceal even for him.

so, you’d think it grotesque, even to watch the colonel slobber, if he's not careful to suck in all his saliva before even considering saying what he has to say.

but to you, that is hardly an impediment. you wouldn't call it an enhancement either, out of respect for what tremendous acts of violence must lie at the base of those deep scars and what look like the remains acid burns, you guess.

yet, there is nothing, not the ruin of his face of all things, that could stand between you and the utter beauty of seeing that cruel, dangerous wolf of a man turn to a drooling, pliant puppy in your hands.

he could go out collecting maiming upon maiming as if it were a new extreme sport to him, and you would still accept his attentions. as könig does yours.

because what the colonel offers is too precious to be shallow, now.

these thoughts run through your head as he kneels before you, lower half of face the only nakedness on display, pink, wet, deformed lips parted as he obediently waits for your say so, to allow him to lock them around the silicon toy you plan on having him service as if it were a real, throbbing cock of flesh.

even when you can notice the impatience, driven to the edge by your scent easily finding way to him through the slit in your drawers, under which you wear the strap, he waits.

as he should.

if you let it up to him, the colonel would be swallowing down your cock in no time. but that's not what you want. he can be rushed and forcing… no, teaching him not to be is as much a torture, if not more, than any technique the both of you have picked up in your years of service.

it is also necessary.

he gauges the pressure of your hand when it strokes his skull through the stubble of his buzz cut, to see if this time it will not just be another gentle pet, but an invitation to taste you. once more, he has to choke down a displeasured whine in both reverence and pride, when it doesn't turn out to be it.

«are you ready, puppy?», you speak softly, but he's fully focussed on you and has no trouble hearing your voice.

his eyes lift to yours as he slowly nods, as if calculated movements could hide the anticipation.

«then unzip your trousers. i want to see how much you like sucking on me.»

he does, eyes still on yours and chin lifted, as with his mouth open and already trickling slightly, if he looked down all the collected saliva barely contained by the inclined posture of his neck would trickle down.

it still makes him slightly self-conscious. even with you. even if you both pretend it does not.

luckily, he doesn't need to see what he's doing to feed his swollen cock through the undone zip. the sight of it, protruding thick and proudly straight, pushes at the corners of your lips in a small, enticed grin.

you pet könig's head in approval: «good pup, so hard for me already. now put your arms behind your back and keep them there until the end.»

he folds his arms on the small of his back, hand clasped tight on opposite wrist, forcing his brawny chest outwards, but not so much that you lose sight of his length below.

«if you act like the very good pup you are, colonel, i'll have something for you, by the end of it. understood?»

könig nods again, another small movement.

«go on, then… but remember what we said, or you can say goodbye to all of it immediately!», only now do you let go of his very short hair pinched between your flattened fingers.

honouring your words right away, he doesn't even move. instead, his tongue peeps out, its tip to yours, leaving behind a shiny trail as it contours the ridges around the head of your cock.

«good! slow. like that. i want to see you work», you encourage, and the colonel's grey eyes gleam silvery in the lamplight at the praise.

he flutters his tongue along your whole length, before drawing back up to the tip, at which his moist lips wrap, gently sucking, never plunging mindlessly to let you fuck his throat. it is his job to be mindful about how you would like to be pleasured with his mouth and focus on it, not be a mindless toy.

there will be time for that, but that time is not now.

he teases you with tongue and lips and, here and there, even a graze of his teeth, when appropriate, soon followed by suction, wet and increasingly loud as he alternates in between touches.

and you softly whisper gentle praises to him, as your eyes wander more and more frequently to the white pearl of precum capturing more and more light as it melts into a dense, translucent tear that hangs from the slit at his engorged, round glans.

you frame his jaw, allowing him to swallow you down to half. you can't resist aiming for the roof of his mouth as you do, pressure slow but consistent.

the colonel fails to choke down wet sounds as you push a little further into the soft tissue. in fact, tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, roll down on undoubtedly crimson cheeks from under his mask, to mix with the mess of drool that floods through his lips and coats all it touches.

his scars glisten beautifully under the viscous, bubbly spit the colonel couldn't hold in even if he had no prior impediment in that department. the man is a leaky mess all over.

eyes. mouth. cock.

you could compete with him yourself, as the drawers now drenched in spit as you push deeper in his throat, were already soaking in your juices at the brilliant sight the colonel always makes on his knees.

you throw in another compliment, underlining the sincerity of your words by thumbing his cheeks under his mask. he makes for such sight, you wish he could see himself through you.

impossible of course. having a standing mirror brought to a colonel's quarters, however… less so. you make a mental note to bring up the suggestion when könig will not be so busy sensuously bobbing his head at your waist, taking more of you, under your guidance, with each downwards movement.

finally, his lips kiss your skin. he thinks he is being subtle, surely, indulging a little more each time he takes you all in to nuzzle his nose in your fragrant curls. still, you don't see the harm in letting him believe so, when he has choked down his hastiness to please you as you wanted.

so you trap him there, face pressed against you as he gags and huffs you in. blithe in discomfort. satisfied in use.

when you finally pull out, the slimy saliva from his throat keeps you connected, until you push the colonel back on his heels, leaving the strand to dangle from his already messed up face.

«you were so good there, pup!», you caress through his damp hair, «ready for your prize?», you ask with nonchalance, as what he probably focussed on throughout his service were nought but an afterthought, to you.

in between pants, you hear a distinct, if frazzled, sound of confirmation.

you take a few steps away and finger at the strap with firm hand, releasing it from around your hips. it falls down as you remove your drawers. they bunch at your ankles, where your boots keep them.

«be good and help mummy with the boots, will you, pup?»

the colonel doesn't hesitate to crawl on his knees, cock still stiff and leaking bobbing at the clumsy motion, and undo your laces, before carefully helping you out of your shoes, making sure not to unbalance you as he frees you from all your bunched up clothes.

as soon as he is done, his hands diligently return behind his back.

you go down on one knee, holding his wet chin between your fingers: «would my pup like to come into mummy?»

his uneven lips barely quiver before he immediately steadies them, but his eyes take a little longer to recover from their having grown wide. yet, the muscles on his abdomen flinch involuntarily, causing his cock to bounce lightly.

you chuckle, caressing a cheek: «hm, pup? what do you say?», your hand brushes his head as you stand up.

his hesitance, or whatever delays his answer, makes you scoff.

«is that such a difficult question, colonel?»

he stares at you: «no», voice low and brittle.

«then what’s the problem, here? am i really supposed to believe that you’ve never thought about it?»

he shakes his head.

«no? no, what? no, you’ve never though about it, or no, that’s not what you want me to believe?»

«i haven’t earned it.»

you can’t help but laugh at his words. his expression, in between angry and morose, only pulls more laughter out of you.

«but it’s not your decision. is it, colonel?»

he relaxes a little, exhaling his reply: «no.»

you stretch out a hand, inviting him closer: «come, pup. let’s ease into things a little, hm?»

what feeble fight in him he showed is gone when you guide his head between your thighs. to that, he has never objected. he laps at your folds with unrestrained gusto, all reluctance shed behind the moment his lips tasted yours.

you press him into you, rubbing your cunt all over his half-masked face – the way he likes – resting one leg on his shoulder to grant him more access to your core as he relishes in the feel of it holding him in place.

as if he would ever run…, you think to yourself as you watch him do with his face as you please.

pleasure rumbles within you as your hips thrust against him, his lips capturing your plumpened nub and sucking loudly at every push, until you are pressing hard into his open mouth, warm and soft around your whole sex, hips stilled yet shaking inside.

it’s hard to swallow with such a dry mouth. you try all the same as you recuperate, wiping loose hair from your forehead as you step back in need of reprieve from könig’s zeal, now that you are at the most sensitive.

something that sounds in between like a huff and a chuckle pushes out of you as you look down at the colonel, who is also busy in his post-meal routine of licking around his mouth for more of you.

you open the top of your fatigues, taking it off and dropping it on the floor, where you join it, only in your tank top, to feel the cold of the tiles against your sweaty skin.

you sigh at the contact as you keep fanning your face and neck with your hands, forgetting for a moment that könig is also on the floor, kneeling close-by. you are questioning whether you should join him: he often gets stuntedly emotional after your sessions and might need some affectionate skin contact – and a rolled-up cigarette with a glass of his disgusting apricot brandy, probably.

you usually provide and this time should be no different. however, he doesn’t give you the time to tend to your duties. you find him on you right away, hovering above you as he positions himself to mount you.

he must have undressed while you lay there, because he is naked in all his scarred and oversized glory. as always, he makes for a wonderful sight.

«changed your mind, puppy?»

he grunts in response and carefully lowers his heavy, solid body on yours, lifting your top as his cock grinds against your slit. you shuffle on the floor, slipping out of it entirely. the warm slickness makes the friction alluring, but hardly enough.

«waiting for mummy to let you inside?»

könig nods, showing a hint of impatience in his grinding you would find endearing, if you weren’t at your limit. you’re tired of waiting and, most certainly, not in the mood for begging.

however, there is one last thing you would like.

«can i see you?»

it wouldn’t be the first time, yet the colonel tenses up at the request, his rubbing slowing down.

you caress his face from under his mask: «let me take this off. i don’t want könig, the detached killing machine to fuck me. i want you… the man…»

you hear him suck in and swallow, before sighing as he slips his hood off and rests it on the floor nearby, fingers still gripping its folds. you hint a smile at him and he lets go of it when you trail a hand to the base of his cock, aiming it at your slicked entrance.

he sinks in slowly, cheek pressed against yours as he groans in your ear, aching walls stretching in the shape of him before he has barely filled you. his next few thrusts are tentative and out of rhythm. he groans at each one, before folding even more and bending his legs to rest his head on your chest while he’s inside you.

when he begins to thrust in earnest, large, heavy balls smacking against the tiles in a way you refuse to believe doesn’t hurt, he does so with the same panache and charm of a teenaged boy losing his virginity, whimpering and drooling on your tits as he slips out more than once. luckily, he always finds his way back in the appropriate hole.

you lie under him staring at the ceiling, arms hugging his nape and upper back as he relentlessly confuses passionately fucking with wanking into you, trying not to laugh at the situation, sure the two of you sweating on the floor and making inhuman noises must make for quite the grotesque sight that, hopefully, no one will ever witness.

perhaps you should reconsider that mirror delivery idea.

you tell yourself that he was so overwhelmed by your desire for him and so aroused by the previous use, that the shock of it made him forget how to fuck, as you are sure this might be the first time together, but certainly not the very first for either of you.

his pathetic whines turning to sobs take you from your thoughts, the telltale signs that he’s close. renewed tears wetting your breasts as he presses his face against them enough to hurt confirm it, as does the increasing, out-of-tempo fury of his hips.

he lifts his head for a moment, desperation in his eyes as he tries to form a sentence: «mum… mummy… please!»

he tries to hold back until your leave. a noble attempt, yet, he barely finishes speaking, that his face is back to your breasts. he shoots inside of you, like you wanted, cock pulsing frantically as he fills your cunt to the brim. it’s difficult to wrap your mind about the fact that the whole business lasted five – very intense, especially for könig – minutes or so.

you still manage a good pup, physically unsatisfied, yet unexpectedly very flattered by how it all turned out, as könig rocks inside of you a few times, before burying himself whole, safe and warm inside of you, not moving any more.

the breakneck beating of his heart echoes against yours, rivalling the sound of his weeping and sniffling, as he refuses to abandon the shelter of your bosom, if not to reposition his head to better suckle your nipples.

That relaxes him enough that the cathartic crying is soon a memory and he is ready – if not voracious – to clean up with his tongue the mess he made between your legs.

[mayflora-18]

Fact Drop #2

Sherlock has black-brown hair. When she was in school she had bowl cut bangs and thinner eyes so she was made fun of for being Asian-American (even though she isn’t really Asian-American)

Yellow lab energy

5’3.75”

Wears wireframe aviator glasses when doing paperwork; has a black and silver pair

Favorite toy: grizzly bear plush

Normally prefers violence as a last resort; “Ask first, shoot later” kinda girl but will fight if 💩 goes south

Nik usually keeps her out of the field if he can. If he can’t however then she HAS to either be with him or communicate with him on a regular basis

Incorrect quote #3

Graves: Who’s that?

Nikolai: Her? That’s Sherlock, our resident background investigator.

Graves: Cool, she’s mine now.

Nikolai: The fuck she is!

Graves, hoisting a very confused Sherlock over his shoulder: Try and stop me!

Sherlock, knowing Graves can’t be trusted but he’s got her in a fireman’s carry: Unhand me-

Grizzly bear plush (named Logan) was given to her by Nik as a “signing bonus”. Has another bat plush named Morty that she’s had since childhood and doesn’t leave her desk

Will offer Morty to whoever needs something to hug

Doesn’t receive as much bullying as she thought she would; either because of Nik’s almost constant presence giving her scary dog privileges or because of the slap incident

Has various handmade soft blankets/pillows/plushies

One of the few people that wasn’t afraid of Ghost when she first met him because she loves skulls

She wins him over with jokes

Nikolai’s niece through his little sister “Louisiana”

Has trust issues because of mentor in Army

She has unusually high ESP. Price tested it once by calling her a busybody in his head, and she asks him, “Is that a nice thing to say?”

Lucky to get > 4 four hours of sleep due to insomnia

Reads books to fall asleep

Is a night owl and requires a full pot of coffee to fully wake up and go about her day

Counters everything Nik is (Cory Matthews x Shawn Hunter vibes)

Sherlock is that person that will do parkour to get things off the top shelf and ultimately scare the 💩 out of the taller military men

She’s also the person that will pick you up and carry you away if you’re annoying her or there’s danger

Is less a background investigator and more of Nik’s assistant

Incorrect quote #4

*Nik and Price are having an argument over something ridiculous*

Gaz: Should we do something?

Sherlock: I’m already smoking and laughing. What more do you want?

Tries to avoid operating on the field whenever possible

Visits family when on leave (if she has leave)

Breakfast food and dirty chais are the way to her heart

Sherlock is a believer of what she calls Lightman’s Law: “Every Homo sapien can and should be trusted to lie.” As a result it is very rare for her to approach anyone unfamiliar for the first time with any hostility or distrust

König wants to be friends with Sherlock but doesn’t really know how to approach her. He’s seen her interact with the field operators in Chimera and TF141 and really wants her to be his “mom friend”

Incorrect quote #5:

Random soldier: *talking down to König for some stupid reason*

König: *stopped trying to appease them a while ago and is now hanging his head*

Sherlock: *walking by and sees this* Hey! Are we on a coffee break?

*Random soldier and König both turn to look at her and see that she is irritated by what she sees*

Random soldier, dumbly: I-I don’t drink coffee-

Sherlock: Well then I guess the break is over. Get back to work, thank you!

Random soldier: *bolts out of there, embarrassed*

König:

Sherlock: You’ll get there, sweetie, you just gotta put a little zing into it. *walks away*

König, thinking: I can’t believe I just talked to a woman!

(He didn’t talk at all.)

Makes blankets that are soft enough to tranquilize upon drapery

Avoids conflict but will fight/kill when provoked (hit on, friends in fight, loved ones at gunpoint)

Exercise = morning walk + yoga + powerlift

Can carry grown men like toddlers

Abby Sciuto + Spencer Reid love child energy (ft. Penelope Garcia and Radar) at work

Nik & Sherlock = Grunkle Stan & Mabel Pines energy

High tolerance for extreme temperatures/pain/painkillers/alcohol

Her dad loves her. He just doesn’t know how to cater to her happiness and mental well-being

Loves Halloween so she can jumpscare Rick (her second eldest brother)

Is capable of shovel talk

[beast-towers]

Here are their parents! With what the teens and the two will be facing ;w; first! By order! And Otsana’s wolf appearance. Also: I had no idea what background to make, so I had to borrow a background from Ibis Paint X ;w;

Both Nicole’s and Alden’s backstory are tied with their children’s. I will skipping to their •Now sections. All expect Otsana’s.

—————————————————————

Characters Time

•Nicole Edric Alonso (or Sophie Ramirez)

Age: 39

Origins: Texas USA

•Now

Once she awoke into the Ministry, she waisted no time as she fought tooth and nail to escape.. unfortunately she was outnumbered and quickly immobilized to fight back. That’s when she met a silver haired woman, wearing a lab coat and yellow eyes looking down at Nicole, but in all honesty, Nicole was scared of course…but she really didn’t care who this “Scientist” was. All that she can think of is getting out and finding her sons, but the woman in front of her had other plans.

The other woman ripped Nicole’s left sleeve off as she injected her with the Joy Serum. Screaming in pain as Nicole headbutts one of the Doctors and fought off more… but the more she resisted them, that’s when she felt both her body and mind in a great agony. Collapsing on the ground as Nicole began to hold herself from the pain she felt, the world spinning around her while something began to claw into her mind… a sickening false emotion… Joy?… no, this can’t be right!

Now panting in pain as she looked up to see a blurry figure walked to her and more followed, the last thing she saw was the same silver haired woman. Smiling down at her and eyes flashed like fire… hearing a voice trying to comfort her while trying to make her forget everything from her past, especially trying to erase her name…

Yet for Nicole, she can easily hear and see the lies from what this voice is trying to tell her. Instantly rejecting it as she remembered her late husband… and her sons. Causing her anger to grow, but the voice intensified… trying to bring her down into submission, but that only gave fuel to an angry fire. Finding her strength to get up and tried to headbutt to who ever is trying to force her under…

Waking up to see she rammed her head onto the Silver Haired woman. Yet she heard what sounded like a dog growling angrily, it was unfortunately fast and a blur… Nicole looked up to see yellow eyes glaring down at her. As she heard a new command echoing in Nicole’s skull…

“Sleep…”

Causing her to blackout… unaware what happened and what she saw. As a few hours passed she awoke to find herself in a cell and her arm covered in bandages. Still feeling a terrible illness coursing through her body and still clawing her mind… but that’s when someone called out to her…

•Alden Belig Belle

Age: 44

Origins: England UK

•Now

A day before Nicole arrived, Alden suffered a great torment. Not only injected with the Joy Serum, but was dragged through a room full of gas. Laughing Gas, and yet the man didn’t budge due to not wanting to give his captures the satisfaction… but he wasn’t prepared for the next one. Thanks to the Serum and Gas, he felt his mind crumbling along with his willpower.. that’s when he met… her.

A silver haired woman, her hair stained with yellow and gray on the ends of her hair… but Alden felt a horrible aura out of her… but he doesn’t know what…or why… but he soon find out why. He was dragged by the guards as they followed the woman to a darken room with only the moonlight to illuminate. Now thrown into isolation with the woman, Alden used his remaining strength to push himself away from the MOJ Scientist but that’s when he noticed her eyes… glowing under the moonlight as the air felt heavy for the man.

Especially… his eye lids?… The more he looked at her, the more he felt himself going under some sort of spell… and he was. The woman got close to Alden as he continued to resist her power…but it wasn’t enough. As he slipped into the abyss… echoes of her words trying to force him to forget both his old life and name… but there was one thing he’s holding onto for dear life, his daughter and his late wife. The day he met Mary, their marriage , and learning he’ll be a father, while also remembering Eleanor was born as he held her close and lovingly, to now… supporting her through the most challenging times he and his daughter are still going through.. He can’t leave her, and she’s all he has left!

He was able to resist the woman and tackled her… but she didn’t budge… he hit something fluffy, and now very angry. He was smacked away to the wall, looking up to see a taller figure with pointed ears, teeth, claws, and a tail… but the eyes. They were intense as he heard one final command in his mind…

“Sleep…”

And just like that, he fell into slumber….

He awoke to find himself back in a familiar cell… growling angrily and feeling his head in pain, trying to remember what happened but it was all hazy. Now steadily getting up to look around, until spotting a different woman in a separate cell. It was Nicole.

Both him and her discuss a plan to escape. He and Nicole need to return to their children, and will fight their way to get back to them… little did they know, their children are also on a mission to save them.

•Otsana Felix Risa

Age: 42

Origins: ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️

Her past and origins are unknown to the advocates, employees, scientists, agents, and guards. Except the higher ups in the Ministry, all that was known is that she appeared to the Ministry wounded but full of purpose. The rest has been classified to prevent worry from spreading.

In her time in the ministry, she has gone through training of the Marmalisation to build up an understanding of what she is getting into and what branch she wishes to join. While at the same time, having gone through Marmalisation to also understand what it’s like… and to lock something within herself away.

Out of all of Five Sections, Otsana chose the Hypnotiser. Even studied science to test and under medically to use her Joy Serum syringes, but to also use them on herself… She held a secret from everyone except the Ministry, that she is a Werewolf or a Dogman from where she use to come from when she used to live at ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️. Thankfully with the Ministry’s help, she was able to tame her beast-self and use her strength and power to aid the Ministry’s goal.

After her time and training, it truly paid off as she is now head of the Hypntoiser section, mixing it with her beastly abilities it can be potent enough for three days of the full moon, all couldn’t resist… all except two. Otsana heard a new Advocate named Alden has been brought into the Sanctuary, and her assistance has been required. She brought him alone to fully marmlise him or at least break him down further. While Alden was put under, she formed into beast to make sure Alden is fully submitted… but Otsana was surprised to see him resisted and tried to tackle her… that alone made her angry.

Bashing him into a wall and use her hypnosis to put the man to sleep, as well making him forget what he saw and tried to fight against. Sighing heavily as she returns to human form… strange, this is the first time. Ordering the guards to put him in the holding cells, planning to figure out a plan to make sure Alden is fully Marmalized.

However, her interest spiked as she heard not only a new Advocate has been sent to the Sanctuary, thus wanted to see if she can help break the new subject’s will… but she is in for a surprise.

Using hypnosis again to break Nicole’s will, only to witness a rage wild fire refusing to fall… just like Alden. It didn’t help that her skull clashed with Nicole’s, causing the scientist to fully form out of anger and putting Nicole to sleep as well.

After that scuffle, she sighs as she went to recover from being headbutted and allowed the Ministry to Marmalise her to ease her anger, but that’s when Otsana heard a group of Trouble Makers entered in with a storm…

•Now

Otsana now aids the Ministry in locating and capture the teens. Yet she noticed something from the brothers that formed a new type of Joyful Energy. Seeing the two use their instruments to form their new attacks and defenses, unaware what their goal truly is… being extremely impressed that two people were able to form access from what they love doing.

As she studied the two more and more. Otsana had her eyes on Tobias, due to learning the boy is going into the early stages of Marmalisation after consuming the park goods. Now forming a plan how to pick off the group, and since they are still young with developing brains… she and the Ministry are able to Marmalise them with no issue.

Ordering everyone to capture any one of them, but her main interest is Toby. Thus, her hunt begins to capture the teens and Ein… but during her hunt, both Alden and Nicole are planning an escape of their own…

Otsana is surprisingly very sweet to her fellow MOJ colleagues and fully Marmalized Advocates. Yet she will get snippy if one of the higher ups calls her “Pup” due to being a beast, and she will become scary to those who are resisting to be Marmalized.

—————————————————————

I deeply apologize if my writing became sloppy here. I still hope you all enjoy my work! My next part of my story will be released ether today or tomorrow. For now, hope you all enjoy and have a awesome day!

[matbenetti17]

♡ Name: Amentia Amantis

♡ Name in life: Marilyn 

♡ Age: 40-45

♡ Died in: 1960s

♡ Cause of death: lethal injection

♡ Sin: murder

♡ Species: orchid mantis demon

♡ Gender: female

♡ Sexuality: straight

♡ Occupation: cosmetics expert and hairstylist (often collabs with the Vees)

Amentia, Marilyn in life, ended up in Hell for having shot dead with a rifle her husband and his young lover around the 1960. After this, driven crazy by her grief, she beheaded him and fled with his head for months around the States until she was arrested, prosecuted and sentenced to death by lethal injection.

Having arrived in Hell, she made a name thanks to her knowledge in the commercial field, that was because in life her husband was the head of a famous chain of department stores and she was in charge of the cosmetics department. 

Despite everything, due to her rampant insanity Amentia still considers herself a married woman, she still wears her wedding ring and carries her husband's skull chained to her, as retaliation. She often talks with the skull or plays with it making it talk like a puppet.

Her husband and the lover never ended up in Hell with her, even though they were adulterers, because apparently for Heaven it's enough to ask for forgiveness on the verge of death to access the Celestial Gates. Which is extremely unfair in her eyes. Amentia was never sorry for what she had done, even during her execution she laughed and was proud of having killed them.

Amentia's taste in fashion and aesthetics made her to be noticed by Velvette who made her one of the first collaborators with the three Vees, in particular taking care of hair and makeup for Velvette's fashion shows and Valentino's porn movies.

Every now and then Amentia tries to convince Vox to oust Val and take her in his place but obviously he always refuses. She and Valentino are kinda like cat and dog, or more like mantis and moth.

Amentia has been looking for a new partner for some time but every time she is in bed with someone her madness gets the upper hand and she ends up killing the poor man accidentally with her claws. This is why she is convinced that emotions like love and affections are a weakness. She often frequents Cannibal Town and is friends with Rosie because when she accidentally kills one of her lovers she brings him to Rosie to get rid of the corpse in her own way.

Quotes:

“For the next extermination, be fabulous~”

“I won't be caught dead again with messy hair, dear”

“I'm a married woman!!”

“I'd like to go to Heaven just to find my cheating fucking husband and that little dirty whore AND KILL THEM AGAIN!”

“You need meee~ If it wasn't for me your little cheap movies would look like fucking amateurs!” –to Valentino

“Dont'cha think that the acronym VAV sounds so much better? Vox, Amentia and Velvette, let's discharge the midge, Voxxie~” –to Vox

“Ugh, how do you manage to work with these two, darling? They're two fucking hysterical fags!” –to Velvette

“Love? Love doesn't exist dear, it doesn't exist on Earth and it should be here? In Hell?”

“What did ya say sweetpea? Oh sure, they look horrendous~” –talking with her husband’s skull

“Oh for all the Seven Rings, can I have some cockroach blood in this hovel you call studio??”

Fun facts:

♡ Her hairstyle and the mole on her cheek are inspired by Marilyn Monroe (which is why she also had the same name as her when she was alive)

♡ The "gem" on her chest is used to hear conversations about her at any distance. It takes inspiration from the metathoracic ear capable of picking up ultrasound that mantises have on their chest

♡ When she is in a "semi-demonic" form the designs on her claws and "tail" light up neon pink and another three small eyes open up on her forehead. The three eyes are also present in the anatomy of mantises, called ocelli

♡ The chain to which her husband's skull is attached can stretch infinitely so she can use it to pull things towards herself, throwing the skull which bites

♡ Her design is inspired by the orchid mantis and the pokémon Lurantis

[spongek-squidge]

My SDV farmer’s worst enemies

Because what’s the fun of a wholesome farming game if you don’t have beef with pixels?

Pam

She doesn’t like Pam at all, especially after seeing how she treats Penny

Has in fact punched Pam before after a particularly nasty fight

Pam doesn’t get why Squid (farmer) has such a big issue with her tho

It’s mostly due to the unapologetic alcoholism and putting Squids life in danger every time she wants to go to skull caverns (which also puts her life in danger but that one’s justified)

Lewis

Oooohhhhhh her and Mayo Lewis

She made a copy of his underwear and now wears them constantly and Lewis can’t get her to stop

She’s pissed at him for making a golden statue while the village needed funding, screwing Marnie over in some highschool forbidden romance type thing they’ve got going on, and the list goes on

He now looks for any excuse to get her in trouble

But she’s been in trouble all her life and is good at shifting blame or feigning innocence (because she does genuinely fuck with him a lot)

Dwarf

She doesn’t like them cause they tried to kill Krobus

That’s about it

Mr Qi

She’s so mad at this man for making her run around constantly just to meet him

She’s tired of being everyone’s lap dog/messenger

He’s not helping

She also gets massive stoner vibes from him and it brings her back to the uni days she wants to forget

[lazodiac]

Been awhile, but lets get back to Thunder Junction. There's artifacts aplenty and we need to note down where they're from! Last time we did the Multicolour cards, which can be found here. For now though, lets begin...

ARTIFACTS

(the uncoloured ones anyway)

As somewhat befits this project, our first one is a Thunder Junction original... by way of being so many planes mashed together that it isn't really possible to pinpoint exactly one. The coinage is all new marks, but the variety of other golden trinkets come from multiple different planes, from New Capenna to Ravnica to Amonkhet to Jund. Cute, though.

A Thunder Junction original, and another good example of how Thunder based magical enchantment works- you need a loop to run it through, so their TNT boxes are gonna be full of horse-shoes.

I will note that technically the detonation plunger SHOULDN'T be the actual, like, explosive device, since that ensures whoever is using it fucking dies, but close enough.

This is a native resource of the plane being gathered with a pretty typical bowl, so that's a point for Thunder Junction.

Also the emphasis of the art is on the diamond in the gold! This isn't inaccurate, many gold mines convert to diamond mines over the years.

Hellspur boots are, as you'd expect by this point, native to Thunder Junction. I gotta imagine these hurt to wear right?

A train! While the gigantic motorwheel is hilarious to look at, and the levitated tracks a bit silly, I think this is genuinely a very cool artistic design.

It's explicitly made clear all trains are from either Kaladesh or New Capenna, and this is clearly a Kaladeshi train.

Hah, good pun. I have no reason to assume this beyond maybe some minor artistic things but I choose to believe this is an Atiin made creation. They're nomads, after all.

A living scarecrow that attracts birds and generates mana? This is from Lorwynn/Shadowmoor you can't fool me!

Made of gemeralds found in the very rock itself, this natural golem is, of course, native to Thunder Junction.

There are a couple places this guy could be from. The floating shoulder spikes strike me as hedron esque, the armour evokes New Capenna, but the actual make of this guy... I'm gonna go with Dominaria. Whoever made this is from there, and has those design sensibilities.

Now this one? This one is obvious. You don't get this sort of smooth metalwork on any plane but the Esper region of Alara. There's a good chance that if you cracked this puppy open there would be some dog flesh underneath that has been completed sculpted over in Etherium.

There's a couple places this could be from. My gut was Innistrad, but there's no Innistradi markings- not even the faint sign of a collar. It's also not common for ARTIFACTS to be the walking dead, in Innistrad. With that in mind, and due to the prevelance of the very lovely looking skull, that this is from Ulgrotha.

A completely plane agnostic concept, but with a old west flavor. This is a Thunder Junction original.

This beautiful piece of work is, I feel, pretty clearly from Eldraine. The artistic style on the bandana feels like it could be viking inspired, but by that same token feels appropriately middle-european.

A fey-made bandana for all your sneak-thieving needs!

Sold by Honest Rutstein, so I see no reason not to claim this is from Innistrad.

Hey so as it turns out there aren't many artifacts in this set- that are uncoloured, at any rate. The rest are all throughout the coloured runthroughs, so go look at those if that's what you're most interested in. Lets look at our count;

Atiin Plane 1

Alara 1

Eldraine 1

Innistrad 1

Kaladesh 1

Lorwynn/Shadowmoor 1

Thunder Junction 6

Ulgrotha 1

Not bad, not bad. Next up will be Unique Lands... and then onto the Alchemy cards, the Vault, and the tokens, and we'll finally be done with this. Hope you enjoyed!

[babygirl-riley]

The Hallmark Cabin

Late night dreams keep Fox from being able to get some good nights rest after her torture. Ghost (per usual) doesn’t get any sleep due to his nightmares. So why not chitchat?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, and Fluff

Sweat was the only thing I could feel sticking to my skin. I was panting pretty hard, I sat up running my fingers through my hair. Nightmares, they all started once I was rescued. Torture sleep repeat. Sometimes I would watch myself die, Ghost and Soap arriving too late.

I sighed taking off the layers of clothing getting into fresh new ones. Sighing I walked over to the door, opening it, watching the halls for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to just get a cup of coffee, I knew I wasn't going to go back to sleep so might as well.

It didn't take long to be able to reach the break room that was for the 'higher ups.' I sat down after making the small pot, scratching at my eyes. "Fox," The deep voice came from behind me, even though it made me jump, it didn't entirely scare me. Ghost. I turned in the chair to face him. He was wearing his normal clothes but instead with no gear and not his skull mask but his skull detailed balaclava. "What are ya doing up?"

I watched him carefully as he went around so I could sit properly in the chair. He stared down at me, those beautiful brown eyes of his, it didn't even have his usual black paint that he wore when going into the field. I didn't even noticed how long I was staring until I saw his eyes look around. I tried to fight the blush coming through my cheeks, thankfully succeeding. I cleared my throat. "Can't sleep is all."

Ghost just stared for a moment before giving a firm nod and turned to the cabinets, pulling out a cup. "I see." He also grabbed a kettle placing it on the stove once he filled it with water.

Once he was finished he came and sat across from me. We locked eyes once again, it was a comfortable silence. I could tell Ghost was searching, he didn’t want to pry, he isn’t the type. Knowing him for more than a couple months it was easy to know that he didn’t like to comfort others, he would basically be the ‘dust it off’ type.

“It’s the Hallmark cabin.” I said smirking, taking a sip out of my cup.

His expression changed to amusement. “The Hallmark cabin?” From how his voice was, he knew I wasn’t telling the truth. I didn’t know to let him know that I was still having nightmares.

“Yeah, deciding where to place this home. Has to be isolated from everything. The only problem it would wait for years, since the field of work I am in. Never know when someone will hunt me down.”

“Especially with this line of work, could build a security system,” He paused for moment. “What about your mate?”

“No mate.” I said shaking my head.

The room went tense for a moment, not a bad one, it was more that we both wanted to say. Ever since the whole card game situation there has been a sexual tension between the both of us. We both didn’t know how to bring it up. At least for me, I didn’t know if I was reading it wrong.

“Didn’t ya want a dog too?” Ghost asked breaking my train of thought.

It shocked me for a moment, to me Ghost was the type of remember the tiny details. Or even care to know. It was a small detail I mentioned to him when we first talked about this damn cabin. I nodded slowly trying to fight the red blush hitting my cheeks, I hurried and took a sip of my drink. “A German Shepard to be exact.” I mumbled.

Ghost nodded before leaning back. “You could get two, a german and malinois. Malinois are good protectors too.”

I glared at him teasingly. “You a dog expert?”

Ghost snorted rolling his eyes. “I worked around them, they can be vicious but sweet.” I hummed drinking my coffee. “How big do you want this cabin?”

“Decent size. Nothing too big, two stories. I want a land though.”

“You wanna do a farm?” He asked I couldn’t tell if he was joking cause how he said it.

I chuckled lightly. “No, if I want kids and the dogs, they will need a decent backyard. Hell have my own hunting ground.”

“You hunt?”

I nodded my head. “You thought I knew how to handle a gun by this profession?”

He just stared for a moment before the kettle went off. I jumped but he just kept looking at me before standing up and pouring just the right amount of water into the cup. “This cabin, where would it located?”

I watched carefully looking at his butt. I never noticed how well shaped it was, glad that it is since he is a big man. It would be awkward if he was flat and the rest bulk. “Fox?” I snapped my head up to see him half looking over his shoulder. “Ya drooling love.”

I quickly wiped my lip but it was dry. Ghost chuckled. Fuck. I could feel the blood rush up. “Somewhere forestry. Why you care about my cabin?” The words rushed out quickly trying my best to make the conversation change.

Ghost stopped what he was doing. He sat there for a moment. “Curious.” He said quietly.

“Mhm, I don’t see you doing it to anyone else.”

Ghost finally turned around having a teabag in his cup. “It’s cause I am not curious on what they want.”

I gave him a quizzed look. “So just me?”

“Maybe.” He sat down not looking at me just his tea.

I glared at him smirking. “Alright.”

“Alright?” He questioned looking up at me. His eyes had that hint of another emotion, couldn’t tell, it didn’t seem like what Ghost would have.

“Yeah I can tell our flirting is going to a new level.” I mumbled taking the last sip of my drink.

He chuckled and I could tell his eyes turned into that dark haze. The list. “New level? Explain Fox,” He leaned into the table getting a bit closer. “What level would you want it to be?”

I glared once more feeling his leg hitting mine briefly. I moved my foot up his leg. “Oh I think we both know the answer to that Lt.”

After that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he would be the mate in the cabin. How we could be rolling around naked of course but also having those damn dogs. Unfortunately though, that doesn’t seem the type of guy Ghost is. Not the settling type, just the ‘no strings attached.’

But that wouldn’t stop us from a little flirting would it?