#Aspen yips

[aspenonpawzzz]

Assigning theriotypes to toh characters 

-hunter: I think wolf (obviously) but he gives coyote, mako shark, deer, and snow leopard vibes as well!

-willow: bear. She’s a bear. Just trust me.

-Gus: ummm… giving dragon kin, maybe raccoon vibes!

-Luz: ok. Otter, but also she’s dogkin! She just gives dogkin vibes

-Amity: domestic cat. But she also gives sirenkin vibes!! 

-eda: o w l. O W L. 

-king: batkin or vampirekin!! 

-raine: their a fox cladotherian, and bathearted!! Also they’re a manta ray!

-Lilith: stray domestic cat, and raven kin.

-belos: I’d say he’d be deer kin, maybe cryptid kin? But he also seems like a hyena to me!

-Darius: octopus. He’s an octopus! Also gives black panther energy!!

-eberwolf: he’s a canine cladotherian, and tiger kin!!

-collector: my baby is space kin, and fennec fox kin!! 

-boscha: that bitch is a fucking crab. Sorry crab kin’s but it’s just THERE.

-vee: snakekin, poly kin, and axloltol kin!

-Caleb: he’s wolf kin, specifically Great Plains wolf. Maybe also star-kin!!

-Evelyn: she is a sparrow and a red fox!! She’s also fire concept kin!

-papa titan:  I give him…. T-Rex paleotherian!!

-Camila: I thought about this, and she’s a mouse!!

-odaila: she is a raccoon. I will not elaborate.

-ed and em:  emira is a horse, and Edric is a farm dog!!

-bump: demon kin. The biblical demons.

-mattholoume: ok.. he’s.. a snake. M-Kay?

-alador: R A T. HES A R A T.

[aspenonpawzzz]

AH

This is ✨IT✨

[buckets-and-trees]

Do You Remember

Characters/Pairings: Minotaur!Bucky x Botanist!Female!Reader Word Count: 460 Summary: You belong to him.

Content Warnings: monster fucking, vaginal sex

Logistical Notes: For the @bucks-and-noble Summer Send Off event. Using lyrics from the song "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire for some of the thematic elements (bolded).

Additional Notes: Follow up to Sacrificial but just a moody smutty drabble that can be read without context.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

As tangible as your surroundings were – the dirt, the lush green jungle, the sounds of exotic birds whose song was now so familiar – the situation hardly seemed real, and your brain didn’t know what to make of your waking state. Dream or nightmare?

Many mornings you woke from golden dreams that bled into shiny days.

Some mornings you awoke troubled, and he was always too perceptive and knew. And he didn’t let you stay troubled if he could help it.

He was very clear that he wanted you happy and content. How could you not be? This is still what you wanted, what you signed up for. What did you lack? Nothing. Your contract was essentially being fulfilled. You had pledged to three years of research. You wanted for nothing in your lab for research. You had known it would be remote, had agreed to being cut off from the rest of the world due to your remote location in the Amazon.

That you were his and that it was clear you were not to leave – would never be able to leave, why would you want to leave, little lamb? – was not part of the agreement.

And when it was like this, your clothes torn off to the side, with your fingers digging into the dirt beneath your palms, on hands and knees, with his hulking form kneeling over you, his bare chest pressing against your naked back, and his thick cock pressing into your stretched and slick canal, your hips pressed back against him, it was hard to remember why you would want to leave.

“Yes, lamb, it doesn’t hurt, does it? You take my cock so beautifully now, make such pretty noises, and I can have you anywhere. Your body is so willing to take me. You were that first day, and you have been every day since.”

You whimpered helplessly. He was right.

As terrified as you had been when the figure of the minotaur had appeared to claim you as the village’s sacrifice, you had also easily become his. Your body craved him now.

It doesn’t matter that you’re naked being fucked by this half-man, half-beast in the rain forest. No one will find you. You’re certain of that.

One of his rough hands came to your chest and he groped your left breast before tweaking the nipple painfully. “You’re mine.”

“Yes,” you yipped. He knew how to ply your body and make you desperate for him, and that was more dangerous than his mere existence as the beast that he was.

Body trembling beneath him as he railed you in a state of nearly mindless pleasure, you couldn’t remember if you wanted this or not. Do you remember anything before this? Before him? Before this September? Was there anything before him? He’s giving you nearly everything. Do you remember? What else would there be to remember in comparison to this?

Commentary/additional pieces on the Minotaur!Bucky saga:

"haunting thoughts" on THIS PIECE for the Dark Forest Fest

"haunting thoughts" on Sacrificial for the Dark Forest Fest

brief insight into what reader's life is like now

physical appearance of Minotaur!Bucky

easy and challenging parts of writing the fic

the writing of the story from concept to completion in one night

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[wtfsheikura]

6

Y/N FOLLOWS MY MOM INTO the backyard while giving me the cold shoulder.

She has plenty of reasons to be upset with me, starting with putting her in this predicament. I have a tendency to dive into situations without evaluating the potential repercussions of my actions, and I suspect I'll face the fallout when we're alone later.

The last thing she wants is to pose for photos with my family and pretend we're in love, especially when she's upset about me not bringing up the acquisition sooner. As soon as I suspected she might not be aware of it, I should have addressed it. To hell with the merger's confidentiality rules. I should have put Y/n first. I won't make that mistake again.

Once we get to the back deck, Mom and Tomoe leave us to help Rin and the photographer with arranging a couple of wooden benches in front of an ivy arch on the property's edge.

Y/n and I stand side by side as Mia comes out of the house dressed in a bright blue summer dress and silver sneakers. Her golden-blonde hair falls in waves to her waist, framing her distinct, mismatched eyes—one blue, the other green.

She moved in next door to Akira a year and a half ago, and he didn't exactly roll out the welcome mat. Everything changed when his long-term nanny quit, and Mia stepped in to help care for Lola. It didn't take Akira long to fall for Mia, and after three months where she lived abroad, they moved in together and recently got engaged.

"Look who finally showed up," Mia teases me.

"It's good to see you, MiMi." I wrap my arm around her shoulder in a side hug.

"You must be Y/n." Mia extends her hand to Y/n, who accepts it with a small smile. "I'm Mia, Akira fiancée, and that's our daughter, Lola." She motions out into the yard, where Lola is running, chasing after their dog, Waffles.

"Waffles stole my headband again," Lola shouts in our direction.

Mia adopted the Australian Shepherd/Corgi mix with comically large ears from an animal shelter before she moved to Aspen Grove. She felt an instant connection because he also has mismatched eyes—a combination of one brown and one blue.

I laugh when I spot the three tiny furballs with floppy ears trotting closely behind Lola, yipping with excitement.

Akira slings his arm around Mia's shoulders and tugs her close.

"I can't believe you're keeping the whole litter," I say with a hint of amusement.

Mia recently started volunteering at the local animal shelter, and a couple weeks ago, someone brought in three Aussie-Corgi mix puppies they found on the side of the road. Instantly reminded of Waffles, she knew she had to take them home with her. What started as an offer to foster them quickly led to her adopting all three.

"Yeah," Akira grumbles, but his tone changes when he glances down at his fiancée with affection. "Mia doesn't want to separate them."

"They're part of our family, and I won't abandon them," she declares. "Who else would love them like we will?"

"I'm sure Satoru and Y/n would." Akira smiles at us. "What do you say, lovebirds? Do you want an adorable puppy as a wedding present? Consider it therapy to bring you closer when the honeymoon stage is over." He winks at me.

Y/n fixes him with an icy stare. At least we can agree that Akira's joke isn't funny. The last thing we need is to add an untrained puppy to the mix.

"Akira, tell me you did not just try to pawn off one of our dogs." Mia swats him on the chest.

"I'm sorry, sunshine." He places a kiss on her forehead. "I was just messing around. They're not going anywhere," he promises.

Akira might not be enthusiastic about sharing his home with three more furballs, but he's smitten with Mia. He would do anything to make her happy, even if it means being the owner of four energetic dogs.

"Let's hope you have better luck training them than you did with Waffles," I taunt, shooting him a playful smirk.

"Hilarious," Akira responds dryly.

"I thought so." I grin triumphantly, squaring my shoulders.

Y/n glances between us with a confused look.

"Waffles wasn't trained when I adopted him," Mia explains to Y/n. "Akira made it his mission to whip him into shape, but Waffles gave him a run for his money."

"Hey, now," Akira playfully chides, his voice filled with amusement.

"I'm just messing around," Mia quips, using his own words against him.

Akira chuckles. "Touché." He takes Mia's hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She gives him a soft smile, and he looks at her like she's his entire world. When Mia came along, Akira was a grumpy cynic whose primary focus was raising Lola and growing Gojo Holdings. She has brought light into his life and taught him how to smile again.

Even as a carefree, unattached bachelor, I often wonder what it would be like to look at someone the way Akira looks at Mia. My gaze drifts to Y/n, who's watching Mia and Akira's interaction closely, chewing on her lip. Despite our less-than-ideal circumstances, I'm glad she's here. It didn't occur to me how much I missed her until I saw her sitting at that hotel bar in Vegas.

"Akira, Satoru, why are you all just standing around?" Tomoe shouts from the yard. "The photographer is waiting." He motions for us to get a move on.

"We're coming," Akira hollers back.

"You ready for this?" I whisper in Y/n's ear.

"Do I have a choice?" she mutters.

"Nope." I grin, taking her hand in mine as we follow Akira and Mia to join the rest of my family.

Two hours later, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Lani, the photographer my mom hired, isn't messing around. She must have taken hundreds of photos by now, and I'm hoping she'll wrap things up soon.

Y/n has kept her distance despite Lani and my mother constantly encouraging us to stand closer together. She talked with my dad and siblings in between poses and tolerated my mom's never-ending questions.

From my shameless eavesdropping, I've learned that Y/n depends on coffee as her lifeline, works long hours, and is a décor enthusiast.

I'm the type to go with the flow and never sweat the small stuff, but even I'm left wondering how we can pull off a fake marriage. We couldn't be more opposite if we tried.

I don't own a coffee maker—I prefer protein shakes and smoothies. I'm usually the last one to arrive at the office in the morning. And let's just say the décor in my London apartment is somewhat lacking.

"Satoru, Y/n, you're up next," my mom announces, breaking me out of my thoughts.

What is she talking about?

"For what?" Y/n questions, mirroring my confusion.

"Couple photos," my mom states like it's obvious. "I have no pictures of your wedding, so this is the next best thing." She clasps her hands together with anticipation.

"Come sit over here." Lani motions toward a blanket she's laid out, with several fruit trees and the barn in the background. "Y/n, I'm going to have you take off your shoes, if that's alright."

"Okay," Y/n says, her voice filled with uncertainty.

She's wearing a light blue spaghetti-strap dress. Her hair is styled in loose waves, and she has on a pair of open-toed heels. Even without advanced warning, she came ready to crush family photos.

She's a goddamn vision. I can barely contain my fingers itching to reach out and draw her close to me, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine.

"I'm going inside to make dinner," my mom announces. She turns to Mia and my brothers, sitting on a nearby bench. "I could use some help."

"Sure thing," Mia jumps up, pulling Akira along with her.

"Have fun, you two," Akira calls out as they walk toward the house.

Tomoe gives Y/n a sympathetic look before he follows behind.

Ari and Rin disappeared inside thirty minutes ago, right after their photos. I don't even want to guess what they're doing.

My dad is playing with Lola, Waffles, and the puppies on the deck, and when my mom reaches the patio, she gestures for him and Lola to go inside too.

With everyone out of view, Y/n exhales and her tense shoulders drop. I offer her my hand to help her down onto the blanket, but she shakes her head.

"I can do it on my own," she says curtly.

"I know, but I want to help," I reply, my hand cradling her elbow as she lowers herself to the ground.

She glances up at me, her eyes softening for a moment. "Thanks," she murmurs.

Y/n settles on the blanket and I take a step back as she slips off her shoes. Once she's finished, she shifts to the middle and smooths out her dress, waiting for further instructions.

"Satoru, sit behind her, please," Lani directs me. "You're going to spread your legs with your knees slightly bent and once you're in place, Y/n will lean against you," she instructs.

Once I'm seated, Y/n reluctantly leans into me, her back pressed against my chest as her thigh brushes against my leg. She fidgets with her hands and I can feel her breathing quicken as she leans into me.

"Satoru, wrap your arms around her and kiss her forehead. Y/n, hold his hand and place your other hand on his calf to show off that gorgeous ring of yours," Lani instructs.

Y/n's eyes widen in alarm, but luckily, I'm the only one who notices. Lani is too busy checking the settings on her camera, and my family is all inside.

It was convenient that my mom required every member of our family to help with dinner except Y/n and me. I don't buy it; she always has an ulterior motive. She probably figured she'd get better photos of us without an audience, and I'll do my very best to make sure Y/n is as comfortable as possible.

Y/n lets out a nervous laugh as she awkwardly rests her head on my shoulder. Her hands tremble as she places one on my knee and the other on my lower leg.

Lani moves positions, and the angle of her camera focuses on my left side. My hair is pushed back from my face, which means my scar is visible. My body freezes up, and my breathing becomes shallow. I was so focused on making sure Y/n was okay that it didn't cross my mind that couple photos would include close-ups of our faces. There's a reason I don't like to look in the mirror. I'm not under any illusions that I'm physically attractive, and prefer to avoid daily reminders of that.

Group shots are easy to manage since I can stay in the back and angle my face away from the camera. However, I steer clear of close-up photos whenever I can.

Y/n tilts her head back, worry etched on her face. "Are you alright?"

"Let's try another pose," I suggest. "I'd prefer my good side showing." I gesture to my face.

"If you'd like, I can edit out your scar," Lani offers.

"Absolutely not," Y/n interjects sharply, glaring at Lani before looking back at me. "You're beautiful. Your scar is part of you." Lowering her voice so only I can hear, she adds, "This situation isn't easy for me either, but we'll get through it together, okay?" She gives me a soft smile as she brushes her hand across my scar.

I blink down at her, rendered speechless. I'm well aware that most women don't find me attractive. They tolerate my looks because they have to, but no one has ever called me beautiful. Part of me wants to dismiss her words as mere pity, but I know that's not accurate. If it were anyone besides Y/n, I wouldn't believe it, but she's not one to mince her words.

"Whatever you say, boss," I choke out, overcome with unexpected emotion.

"Everything okay?" Lani asks.

"Yes," Y/n says, turning back to face her. "We're all set to continue."

"Perfect. Cash, wrap your arms around her," Lani says when I don't move.

If she finds it strange that Y/n and I are uncomfortable with each other, she keeps it to herself. Thank god Akira and Tomoe are inside, or they'd be teasing us without mercy.

I band my arm around Y/n and pull her tight against me. My racing heart reverberates in my ears, its steady rhythm grounding my senses. Y/n's shallow breaths are a dead giveaway that I'm not the only one affected by our proximity.

She feigns indifference, but now and then, I catch her mask slipping. Like when she couldn't stop sneaking glances at me when I walked into the hotel bar. Or when I woke up with her clinging to me like a baby koala.

"Y/n, scoot a little closer to Satoru, please," Lani calls out from behind her camera. "Pretend I'm not here, and you're just sharing a special moment as newlyweds."

Joke's on her because Y/n would rather watch me get struck by lightning than be my wife. Unfortunately for her, she's stuck with me—at least for now.

The sooner we cooperate, the sooner this will be over.

I take the opportunity to enjoy this fleeting moment as I bury my face in her hair and inhale the scent of jasmine, lavender, and vanilla. She smells like heaven, and I'm forced to push aside any thoughts of her writhing against me in pleasure.

Fuck me.

Maybe taking photos together was a bad idea. This woman is toying with my mind. One minute, I'm agreeing that getting an annulment is a good idea, and the next, I'm consumed by an overwhelming desire to explore every inch of her.

My instincts take over as I grip her hair in my fist and push it over her shoulder. A part of me can't help but wonder what it would feel like if I peppered kisses along her neck, holding her hair like this. Would she hum in delight or cry out in pleasure as I played with her breasts, alternating between pinching and twisting them with my fingers, my tongue slipping inside her mouth.

That's not an appropriate thought to have during a family photo session.

That doesn't stop my cock from pulsating with excitement. I use my newfound daydream to keep me in the present as I caress Y/n's hand in a hypnotic fashion—back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She sits still as a statue but grips my calf tightly, proof that my touch is affecting her—no acting necessary.

Her reaction pushes me forward, and I drag a finger along her arm, leaving goosebumps in my wake. I pause for effect, and as she lets out her next breath, I plant several kisses along her shoulder as my hands tug her closer to me. The tension crackles between us.

"Why don't you kiss her on the mouth, Satoru," Lani suggests as she snaps another picture.

That's a terrible idea.

Common sense doesn't stop me from fixing on Y/n plump red lips, practically begging to be kissed. Technically, our first kiss was at the chapel after we exchanged vows, but we were both buzzed, and I didn't get to enjoy it the way I wanted to. There's no chance I'm passing up the opportunity to taste her now that we're sober.

One little kiss can't hurt, right?

I'm sure that thought will come back to haunt me later, but I can't find it in me to care.

My dick is doing the thinking when I lightly grasp Y/n chin and tip her head back, coming face-to-face with her wanton expression, her chocolate-brown eyes ablaze with desire. Our intermingled panting is music to my ears as I slant my mouth across hers.

"Can I kiss you, N/n?" I murmur.

"You'll smear my lipstick," she whispers teasingly.

"Fuck it, I'm kissing you anyway." I brush my lips against hers in a teasing stroke, and I'm both shocked and pleased when a soft moan escapes her mouth. As I deepen the kiss, the tension between us becomes an inferno.

Our lips are interlocked as I cup her cheek with my hand. She shifts position—her ass pressed against my rock-hard cock.

Kissing her is like tasting forbidden fruit. Every touch is electric; every breath is charged with anticipation, making it all the more sweet.

I'm lost in the moment when Lani's high-pitched voice jolts me back to reality. "That was perfect," she exclaims. "I got so many incredible shots. I'm all set."

I jerk my head up to find her retrieving her equipment bag from one of the benches nearby. Y/n and I were so caught up in the intensity, I briefly forgot Lani was here.

My gaze pings back to Y/n. She stares at me, cheeks flushed, like she can't believe what just happened. She finally snaps out of it, scrambling out of my arms, pausing when she sees my face.

"Uh, you should take care of that," she says as she motions to my lips.

I swipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, grinning when I glance down at my hand, now marked with red lipstick.

"I'm going inside," she announces, refusing to make eye contact.

She puts her shoes back on in record time before hustling toward the house.

"I'm right behind you."

Holy shit, I just kissed Y/n... again.

Now is not the time to panic; it won't do me any good.

When I look at the house, I spot Tomoe and Akira watching out the window with smug expressions on their faces.

Even I'm starting to see that our dilemma has gotten out of hand. The sooner we leave for London, the better.

Something tells me that our kiss just complicated things, especially since now I want to do it again... and again.

[piddlekit]

hiya, i’m aspen, your local leaky bunny boy.

this blog is mainly for text posts about kinks that revolve around pee, wetting, and diapers. you may also see content with abdl and light furry themes. this is not an exhaustive list, however.

i only make an active effort to tag-organize my own content. see below… (these tags are only to get us started, i may add more with time!)

 ⌢

thoughts: kit yips

works: kit writes

pee: kit omo

diapers: kit omu

 ⌣ 

this is a minor-free blog. no age on your page, no admittance!

see you around :)

- az

[aspenonpawzzz]

only romantically please!

and no one older than 16.7, or younger than thirteen.

any gender is ok!

from twitter ig

[maxparkhurst]

BLOOD. -What types of injuries has your muse sustained? What was the worst? 

Injuries are not an uncommon occurrence. Either sibling has sustained superficial hurts incurred by their alchemical hijinx. More often than not, they are peppered with cuts and burns. Alchemy, after all, is quite hazardous to an individual’s health. If a cross-section were to be taken of a Parkhurst's lung, you’d be forgiven in thinking it was charred. Years of inhaling caustic chemicals have turned their insides a tad softer and a pinch blacker than they should appear. All of this is to say that the Parkhursts value their health as a gambler values their life’s savings. And while some injuries are worse than others, such as Max’s missing eye or Augustine’s disfigured hand, none of them are deemed the worst. No. That title is saved for a chilled evening deep in Drustvar’s taiga. There, the eldest sibling danced intimately with death itself.

Augustine fumbled with the clasps, hands shaking and head buzzing. He couldn’t understand why anyone decided to wear a coat with marble-enameled buttons. Wooden ones were just as serviceable and far easier to undo with blood-slick fingers. After so many failed attempts, he spat out a curse and yanked the dagger from the man’s sheath. Damn all this courtesy to the dead. He sawed away at the fabric with amateur precision and wretched the dismantled coat aside, revealing a bandoleer that housed a variety of vials. Relief warmed his chilled veins as he plucked three unscathed.

“You won’t be needing these,” he murmured, “Will you?”

The corpse once possessed a name- as all dead things do. In life, the man was callused and cold. His steel-sharp gaze haunted every corner and all of Augustine’s waking moments, plucking him from the shadows with predatory ease. Even with the light snuffed from them, that gaze still found him in his most guilty moment. Bulging and wide. Set in an unsettling amalgamation of horror, shock, and amusement. The man once named Abel Eloi died with a smile etched on his lips. Humored by the notion that prey had claimed predator; that this meek kit possessed fangs and claws of his own. Augustine rose to his feet and stumbled under a wave of vertigo. Whether the headiness was from disgust or elation, he had not decided. He wiped the blade clean on the shredded coat, shoved it between his belt and pant loop, and then kicked past the corpse and its revolver empty of the last bullet. Material items held no value to the dead, after all. Streaks of gold and maroon gorged the sky as dusk crept over the horizon. Night would fall soon. Pines and oaks, their leaves ethereally sanguine, scraped at the firmament of the Crimson Forest. Smaller plants like aspens and alders added a lush depth that filled the air with dense pockets of silence. In the distance, Augustine heard the yip and howl of hounds drunk on the hunt. He scanned the wilderness. There was no one besides them, the wind, the quiet brush, and the occasional spindle-limbed shade - remnant wraiths sewn by the hands of the Heartsbane Coven, unliving and forever burning- that shambled through the gloom. If there were men concealed in the boughs, they harbored no interest in showing themselves. His shadow, stretched long and dark, guided him to where his sister laid limp like a doll.

Augustine had read these kinds of scenes in novels. They described blood like it was a painting, idyllic in nature and otherworldly charming. Authors had the penchant for glossing over the fact that blood was messy. It so rarely pooled stagnant. Her blood had mixed with his blood, which had mixed with the dirt and mud and grass and whatever the hell else until he wasn’t even sure who or what was crusting under his finger nails. It all made his stomach churn with unrest. He swallowed hard, stealing a glance at the venous red that stained the undergrowth, and clawed at his sister’s shoulders.

Max gasped, ragged and wet, as she was rolled onto her back. She pressed a hand firm against her stomach. Between her fingers seeped crimson threads. A futile attempt to keep herself from unraveling. She bristled, overtaken by a coughing spasm, before spitting up crimson gruel onto her chest. A dark needle pierced his heart as she grew still and quiet.

“Max…?” Augustine whispered as he gathered her in his arms. Her skin felt as cold as glass. He tried to shake a bit of warmth into her, and to place a bit of strength in his voice. Though to his ears, he only sounded lost and small. “Maxinora?”

There was a long beat of silence that made Augustine question if she’d heard him or not. Then came her gossamer soft reply, “Auggie…”

Max’s eye fluttered open, her gaze slow to find her brother. She peered through him with a vacancy that belied uncertainty. She was unsure. Unsteady.

“I’m here.” Augustine forced a thread-bare smile despite the heat collecting in his throat and the sting threading his eyes.

Clarity warmed her gaze a beat later than he’d have hoped. Max wheezed a tired laugh as she lifted her hand and revealed her wounds. Her blouse bloomed red from where she’d been unseamed at the stomach. She cupped his chin, directing his eyes away from the gray stuffing that fell out of his rag doll sister.

He could barely hear her speak those last words. Such dense words that ushered a silence thick enough to smother the taiga’s timberland.

Her smile turned his insides cold.

“I’m sorry…”

And for a moment, the world shattered beneath Augustine as his sister grew still and quiet in his arms.

Thank you for the ask @nixalegos!

[dollyinadoghouse]

Small stones and pebbles were knocked out of place and sent rolling across the ground as the red female walked, so different then when she was on the hunt always so soft and never making a sound.

The red wolf hopped up a small hill and saw what she had come here for, walking over to the stones set up high on the hill each representing a wolf that has past. Some names that have been carved into the stones with a careful claw were unfinished, having been too young to have earned their Honor name when they died.

The female stopped in front of one in particular and sighed through her nose as she set the flowers in her mouth in front of the grave.

Amber Wind

“Hey Mom, sorry I haven’t been visiting. I’ve just been... busy. Thing’s are going good though. Fawn Nose has a another pup, her name is Poppy, she reminds me of Red Moon. I just... wish he was here now.” She muttered softly.

She sighed as she closed her eyes imagining her mother walking over to her, giving her face a comforting lick and telling her everything would be fine.

“Blood Howl.”

Blood Howl jerked out of her thoughts and turned around seeing white fur and two orange eyes. Blood Howl slumped softly as she huffed softly. “Oh, Aspen. What are you doing here?” She asked.

The young male glanced around awkwardly as he shuffled around on his paws. “Um... Feather Foot asked me to gather some leaves and moss, Echo’s litter is due soon and she wanted me to make sure we have enough materials.” He said. Blood Howl nodded looking at the pupsitter apprentice as he walked over to one of the areas in the graveyard and plucking a left with his teeth.

“How is she?” Blood Howl asked.

“She’s excited, so is Pitch. Feather Foot is happy to be welcoming new members into the pack.” Aspen said. Blood Howl nodded as she looked around before turning and snorting as she saw Aspen attempting to fit more leaves and feathers in his mouth the he could possibly fit and stood up, walking aver to him.

“Here, let me carry some of that.” Blood Howl said. Aspen made a sound from around the leaves in his mouth but the movement caused some of the feathers he was holding to blow out and Blood Howl caught them. Aspen relaxed his shoulders a bit and allowed her to grab some of the materials.

The walk back to the pack’s home wasn’t too long and soon they were stepping onto the grounds. Blood Howl smiled slightly when she saw Soot Foot instructing the pups in hunting, Blood Howl chuckling as she saw Agate chase after some birds with vigor before he tripped over his own paws sending him sprawling on the ground.

Blue was chatting softly with Fawn Nose as they organized herbs as Poppy slept softly in the circle of her mother’s tail. Nearby Ash was giving Clay some tips on walking softly as the two were getting ready for the next hunt they would be brought on.

Aspen walked over to Echo and set the materials he had down allowing her to tuck them in around her swollen belly. Pitch was laying down next to his mate napping but Blood Howl knew he would bolt up if anyone said his name. The scout had gotten back not too long ago with some things he gave to Feather Foot and immediately laid down with Echo.

“Ow!”

The two looked over and saw the pups still in their little training area. It appears Hawk had pounced on Agate and was now holding the younger pup down.

“That was not the point of the lesson Hawk! We’re supposed to be chasing the birds not each other!” Agate yipped. Hawk smiled her black and white eyes glimmering with amusement. “We’ve got to practice hunting somehow Agate.” She said.

“Hawk.”

Hawk jerked and looked up meeting the black and white eyes of her mother Sonder Howl. “Pay attention to what Soot Foot is telling you. Okay?” She asked. Hawk nodded as she stepped off the other pup. “Yes mom.” She said before turning her attention to the black female watching them.

The two pupsiitters, Honey Heart and Snow Gaze, chuckled to themselves watching as Soot Foot wrangled the three pups finding it funny watching her struggle with what they did daily.

Blood Howl huffed softly smiling, this sure what the Lightning Foot pack and she wouldn’t change her place in it for anything.

[caranelguild]

December 2 - 7, DY 26

The party does not look back as they leave the campsite that Farthybüt once filled with varied music. Only Zilybar feels their absence as the caravan travels southeast, following Sven and his dogs to the village of the sheepherders. The trek occupies a full day and then most of a second. When they arrive at the base of a winding path up a ridge and are told the hamlet is just beyond the top, Zilybar sets off to prepare the halfling shepherds for the caravan’s arrival.

The bard crests the ridge and looks down at a shallow alpine valley through which a gentle stream winds. Coils of smoke rise from the little grass-hill homes of the shepherds, and beyond the river Zilybar can see a pair of shepherds leading a flock of sheep to town from wild pasture. He heads down into town - where he discovers the coils of smoke to be rising not from little brick chimbleys but from mounds of coals, unrecognizable as the trees, gardens, carts, furniture, and bodies they must once have been - still smoldering despite the light rain.

Zilybar hails the shepherds, but as they approach and the sheep begin to cross the wide bridge, one of the two - always indistinct in the rain - is suddenly not there, leaving behind the one, a tall stranger in a cloak riding upon a dappled palfrey.

For a moment, the shepherd wonders if Zilybar is responsible for the wreckage of their peaceful hamlet, but the damage is easily identified as more than a day old - and besides, the gnome is as shocked as the shepherd. When the bard introduces himself, the rider only says that they are a shepherd - would Zilybar mind helping them wrangle the sheep into their pen?

By the time this task is finished, the caravan has come over the ridge. Zilybar runs up to inform the rest of our adventurers of the situation. They decide to leave the caravan to camp up here, to avoid disturbing the travelers by passing through another desolated village (remembering the orc-razed town at the foothills of the mountains some days ago).

Our adventurers, along with Sven and his dogs, head into the hamlet, where the shepherd has begun digging a grave for the burned and - they discover - gnawed-upon corpses of their fellows. Zilybar and Ainsley assist in this task while Roy and Sven explore the village to piece together what might have happened.

Sven’s dogs yip and bark outside the round door of a home, and when Roy hears a faint moan from within he busts through the barred entry with his hammer. Inside, he finds a fatally wounded halfling woman, the blood hardly spilling anymore from the gruesome wound where the bottom half of her leg should be. Roy quickly assesses the damage and expends the most powerful healing spell in his repertoire to seal the wound and infuse the halfling with needed blood - magically conjured until her body once more produces its own.

The woman’s tale is harrowing. The village had been attacked by giant, flaming wolves who breathed fire and attacked not to devour but to maim and kill. This happened some two days ago. The strange shepherd looks through the busted open doorway and is relieved to see a survivor - “Mari!” they cry.

“Nur!” says Mari. “I am so glad you made it! Is there anyone else?”

Nur is not sure, but Roy and Sven, seeing that Mari is in good hands, head off to explore the rest of the hamlet - and quickly, Sven’s dogs are barking at the door of a large barnlike structure.

Inside are found an aged halfling dressed in improvised armour (a wok as breastplate, a colander as helmet, and a shepherd’s crook with a knife strapped to it) caring for two infants in a bassinet. 

This turns out to be the village hetman Monoe, who had been babysitting twins Aspen and Edel when the hounds from hell had attacked in the night. He had initially barred up his own home and dressed in his armour before remembering that the barn was a mustering point. He has been in there, terrified, since - still smelling the brimstone smoke from the smoldering mounds and not being able to see through the slots of the barn door.

As Zilybar and Ainsley finish the burials, the village residents gather together to decide what to do. Nur has learned that the strange adventurers are on their way with a caravan of refugees to Alfomb through the mountains; if Mari and Monoe wish, Nur will accompany them and the twins as they join the caravan as a protector.

Our adventurers are happy to offer this joining to the shepherds. But what to do with the sheep? Over the remainder of the day, Nur’s flock is shorn and a few are butchered for meat. Five are chosen to accompany the caravan; the rest are left to wander wild. Roy sends a magical missive to Farthybüt at the orc village, mentioning the empty hamlet and its healthy flock.

In the morning, the enlarged caravan sets off on the southern road, once again following the wanderer Sven on paths known only to him.

That night, while heavier rain catches up with the travelers and Nur is on watch, the itinerant shepherd sends up an echo of their self to watch from above - some expression of their own unique magic - and this echo spots a caravanner resting against a tree a ways away from camp.

The echo swoops through the trees, and when close can sense that this body is no longer alive, though a heat emanates from the corpse’s chest.

Nur’s echo returns to them and they investigate with a burning brand, finding the oldest member of the caravan - Old Teethy - stone dead, with his throat and collarbone torn out, the wound burning hot.

Nur wakes Roy and informs him of this. Roy doubles on watch, and shortly observes an orange flash in the distance through the trees. Later in the night, Zilybar sees movement in the trees, but it is only one of Sven’s dogs, urinating before returning to its master.

In the morning, the location of this flash is investigated. A smoldering patch of ground, where the snow that began falling in the night melts before landing, is discovered, along with a collection of slush-filled pawprints leading towards it. It is assumed the hellhound, then, after committing the murder, went here to vanish back to hell or whatever is in its nature. A broken bone, split by sharp teeth, is found among the ashes of the undergrowth.

The next night, tripled watches are set. On the second watch, Trak (of the turnip gnome family) suddenly cries out in pain from the other side of the camp from Zilybar, who rushes over just in time to see a flaming wolf race off into the trees, leaving behind the gnome youth with a horrible, but not fatal wound in his hip.

Shortly, an orange flash is observed up the slope.

Roy heals Trak, and in the morning the caravan is informed of the threat that faces them. After a long day’s travel, noise traps and five-person watches are set . . .

In the middle of the night, the entire caravan is awakened by a deep laughter from within their circle. The watch swings their torches inward to illuminate a tusked giant, throwing back his head and laughing. The monster is at least fifteen feet tall, dressed in clattering armour. In a voice that rumbles the ground, he says, “Well, too bad! You’ve made it too difficult, now, for my pets to get their nighttime snacks!” and he casts a handful of bones, each with a rune in its shaft, at the six dogs at his feet.

The dogs leap to their feet and grasp the bones in their jaws. With terrible cracks, the bones split between their teeth and devilfire suddenly erupts, obscuring the giant and his beasts - until stepping from the lapping flames of hell come slavering hounds as large as the biggest wolves, their hides flickering with fire and liquid fire dripping from their open jaws . . .

[aspenonpawzzz]

YES LIKE YOU ARE BAD AT IT

I hate it when people bark at me as an insult, I don’t even care about the idea bUT AT LEAST BARK PROPERLY???? Saying “Ruf” loudly is not barking mf, insult me properly

[aspenonpawzzz]

HI

This is my introduction

my mewtual(s) in crime:

@justalexisfine

@imhereandqueersuckas (aka @goingtohellwithyou, that stupid fucker/silly/aff lost his password)

‼️‼️‼️I LIKE PINAPPLE ON PIZZA‼️‼️‼️

#c.ai shenanigans for c.ai posts lol

READ AND COMMENT IN MY FANFIC IM BEGGING!!!!

system side blog: @canis-constellation

fictive/fictionkin blog: @phantom-w0lfbane

Writers blog: @yourlocalangstdealer

term hoard/ label coining blog: @aspens-hoard

A-spec mafia: @aspec-warriors

(update: https://www.tumblr.com/aspenonpawzzz/757548899213918208/update?source=share)

Theme song: Throne, or Turn off the lights (panic! At the disco)

(Edit: forgot to mention, I have Tricotillamania!)

Plural Fluid!! (Coined term by me)

[georgiapeach30513]

A Losing Hand, Part 7

Summary:  who came into your bedroom?

Pairings:  Andy X Daisy!Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, breeding kink, authority kink, brat taming, degradation, mentions of being held against your will, mentions of non con, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*divider by @firefly-graphics​

“Aspen, come here girl. You, too,” you watch as the little girl runs over to the bed, jumping in Andy’s arms as she nuzzles around his neck. “What are you doing out of the bed, princess?” she only shrugs and peaks over at you with a smile.

“Now that her has seen me…do…do I have to hide?” he presses a kiss on her forehead, and she still giggles over at you.

“I suppose if you have…” Andy stops when the little dog yips beside the bed. “You forgot Aspen.”

“Silly me,” she leans over picking the dog up, who is immediately sniffing you to make sure you’re okay for her girl.

“As I was saying, I suppose if you have to spend time with the Queen, I guess it’ll be fine,” she giggles at him, booping his nose.

“Were you going to tell me you had a kid?”

“Now isn’t the time, Daze.”

“Uncle Andy isn’t my dad,” another round of giggles burst in the bedroom, and even the dog bounces around as if to join her.

“Andy?” you look to him confused, while she might not be his child, there’s a reason she’s here, even why she’s been kept a secret.

“This princess has such a story,” he settles back a bit more. Leaning up against the headboard but when you go to ask, Andy just shakes his head.

“But uncle Andy! I wanna know. Where is my mommy?”

“Another time, princess,” Andy’s head flicks towards the door when a knock is heard. “I bet I know who that is. You can come on in.”

Bucky’s silver eyes look almost scared as he sees you next to the little girl. Your hand constantly petting the fluff ball that sits in your lap. He gives a moment of a look to Andy, mouthing out I’m sorry, “Winter. You have to stay in your room.”

“You fell asleep.”

“It’s nighttime. That’s what we’re supposed to be doing. Sleeping.”

“But daddy!” he winces at the name looking at you. Clearly he hadn’t planned on you knowing that bit information. “I got to see uncle Andy’s Queen,” her lip puckers out and pouts animatedly at him, and you can’t help but smile yourself. “Don’t be mad.”

“Yeah Bucky,” you pout with her. “Don’t be mad.”

“Oh!” Andy can’t help but laugh, giving Winter some tickles, “You hear that Buck? They’re going to be ganging up against you,” unbeknownst to you, your hand reaches to holding to his arm. Your head leaning slightly over on his shoulder, smiling at the interaction.

You had questioned if Andy would in fact be a good father. And seeing him like this makes you feel things. While Bucky doesn’t say anything, his eyes are locked in on you watching your movements with Andy. Studying your facial expressions as you watch them.

“I’m thrilled. The dog will be here tomorrow as well boss. Winter let’s go sweetheart, this time stay in your room. You have all the toys a little girl should want.”

“And a secret hidden room.”

“Shh,” you can tell Bucky is still untrusting of you. Almost chastising the little girl for letting you know about the secret.

“Shh,” she repeats. She gives Andy a hug and a cheek kiss before pulling up the little dog. “I want to show you the room I’m not supposed to talk about. Only Andy and daddy know about it.”

“Winter Olwen Barnes. Bedtime, now. I apologize, Andy. It won’t happen again,” Andy gives him a nod, and Winter jumps up into her dad’s arms, blowing you a kiss for good measure. This little pitter patter of Aspen’s feet follow behind the pair.

Once the door is closed again, Andy settles back down, turning off the light. Wrapping an arm around you, to pull you into him, but you don’t budge. “No, uh-uh. A little girl…which by the way,” you give his arm a little shove and he just beams up at you. “I mentioned that dog more than once, told you about the giggles. Hers. And you said I was hearing things. Now. Explain yourself. And why is her name Winter?”

While your family was never in a suit, you know very well the differences between them. Not to mention you lived amongst the Diamonds. You know their affinity for the cold and ice. “Do you know the nickname people have given Bucky?”

“The Winter Soldier?”

“Have you ever thought why?” you shake your head no. Never giving it any thought, because you just preferred to just call him Bucky. “It was a form of mockery in the beginning. A former Diamond turned Spade soldier. Him and Steve are good at their job. But this isn’t the territory he grew up in. Her mom wanted to take a cruel joke towards Bucky, and make it her daughter’s beautiful name.”

“Where is she? Is she dead? That’s why Winter doesn’t have a mom? What mother leaves their child?”

“Calm down,” there’s no joy in Andy’s eyes. His demeanor completely changed. “What we’re not going to do is judge her mother. She did what she had to do to keep Winter safe. She did not want to leave that baby. But, Lloyd wouldn’t let it go.”

“Lloyd? What does he have to do with this?”

“Have you heard of Ransom Drysdale? The Jack of Clubs?” your head is swimming with all this information. From suit to suit. Bouncing around this labyrinth of people. One of these stupid webs they they all weave. You had heard of Ransom, another Diamond that got away. Lloyd cussed him on the daily.

“He owns a porn studio. While he was still in the Diamonds, Lloyd took it over,” Andy’s hand covers your mouth when you start to speak. “This is going to take long enough as it is. Keep your mouth shut until you’re spoken to,” he allows you a second to let the words sink in. Raising up an eyebrow at you, “Do not defy me right now, Daze. I won’t be too kind. Have I made myself clear?”

You nod your head at him, and he removes his hand. Reaching over you grab it back to hold. You need some part of him touching you. “Winter’s mom was the star at the studio. Bucky…Drysdale trusted him, they grew up together, but Bucky was never as high a ranking as him. He didn’t like the politics of the Diamonds as soon as the king died, so he came here. His Diamond mark seared off, while a Spade has been blackened so many times. Anyways, he was her bodyguard, and he escorted her home. You know how pregnancy works,” Andy almost scoffs. Those deep blue eyes looking at the chandelier.

“Bucky was stupid, but that angel has been a godsend to us. Only myself, Nick, Sam, and Steve are aware of her. Some of the others suspect. But they don’t know who she belongs to.”

“Why is she a secret?” you gasp realizing you spoke, but Andy’s eyes turn to look at you giving you a soft smile. His hand cups your cheek, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Lloyd…he exploited the fact she was pregnant. Got her into doing more fetish films. He refused Bucky’s help because she was nothing but a whore and she could get herself home. Thankfully, he didn’t put it together that Bucky was the father. Her main co-star reached out to Bucky. He overheard Lloyd say he didn’t know what he would do with the mistake when it was born. Always it,” his face turns up in disgust. Showing just how much he loves that little girl.

“Lloyd didn’t deserve her or her mother in his suit. Bucky got her out of the studio she lived here. No, they didn’t have a relationship. They didn’t love one another. They had fun. Steve…he knew how to deliver babies, and she agreed to it. Wanted no one in the suits to know where her and her daughter were. Winter was born here, in a bathtub. Lived here with her mother for nearly a year. She trained with Bucky, while we took turns tending to the baby.”

Andy settles back into the bed. Pulling your body closer to him, and sighing at your warmth. Always wanting you close to him. Needing the lightness you bring to his dark world.

His eyes look around the room as if to think about what they could have done different. Whether keeping the little girl was a good idea. “Drysdale came and told her Lloyd was looking for her, and if she stayed where the baby was, she was a risk to her. So she fled with him. My guess is she’s wherever he is, and in the Clubs. We’re on lockdown, and hadn’t heard much lately.”

“Why are we on lockdown,” Andy’s body slides down on the bed, before he rolls over you. Caging your body, and he presses a beefy hand against your belly. “Andy,” you whisper out.

“This is why. I lost you once. I won’t lose you again. Especially now.”

“You don’t know I’m pregnant.”

“I don’t know how you wouldn’t be. For a solid month we didn’t get out of this bed. I had to carry you around you were so sore. As soon as it’s far enough, you’ll take a test. Dr. Banner made sure we have the equipment here. And the dog will be here tomorrow. She is to stay with you at all times.”

You can’t do anything but groan, and that soft hand moves to your face. Squeezing at your cheeks. “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask,” you jerk your cheeks out of his hand, and while he grits his teeth, his hand slides down your front and back to your belly.

“That’s…Andy I don’t want a wolfdog following me around everywhere.”

“She’s trained. She’ll sleep in here with us, too. You’ll get to walk in the backyard. Or…I’m sure Winter would love to show you her secret garden.”

“A secret garden, huh?”

“Yep. A secret garden for a secret girl. I can’t let her stay cooped up inside. She likes you. Saw you the first time around. She’s desperately wanted a mom. She saw you sleeping in the bed after a session with your favorite toy. You wanna go for a ride?”

“Stop.”

Andy only chuckles at you. You may fight him about the machine, but he knows you enjoy it. It’s his favorite to overstimulate you, feting you good and begging. He loves it when you beg. “Don’t act like such prude. I’ll make you cockwarm me in front of everybody at dinner tomorrow. Bucky and Steve have already seen us,” he laughs at you.

When you pout and look away from him, he just starts kissing up the column of your neck. His mouth open and sucking along the sensitive skin. Trying not to react, when that’s exactly what you do. Grabbing at his hips to pull him closer to you.

“Don’t be so sensitive. You’re fulfilling your duties.”

“That’s all I am to you. A warm wet place.”

“Now that’s about enough! If that’s all you meant to me, would I have went searching for you? Would I have allowed a Diamond scum back in my bed.”

“He never marked me! I was nothing but a fleshlight to him,” Andy smacks you across the face. Not hard, but enough to sting.

“That’s it. You want to act like a fucking brat, then that’s how I’ll treat you,” you whimper when his thick thighs spread yours further apart. “Now I’m tired of your fucking attitude. Is that how you talk to your king?”

“No, sir,” your voice a low whisper. You feel every harsh movement Andy makes as he pulls himself out. Lifting up your silk gown to see your glistening folds. Never panties. He’s forbidden them in the bed. Because when he wants you, he’ll have you. Tapping his heavy cock against your clit, and laughing when your arousal creates strings when he pulls away.

“Such a slut for me. Do you see how wet you are? I told ya, Daze,” Andy’s voice is so slow and raspy. Almost grunting as he crashes into you. “You don’t have to have that attitude to get my attention.”

“Andy,” you voice mewls. Grasping onto his hips while he ruts into you. “Andy.”

“I know,” his hand roughly grabs onto the bed frame. Growling with every thrust into you. A hard and deep pounding in your tight channel. “You always look so pretty when your speechless from my cock. You gonna deny it?” unable to speak anymore, you just shake your head no.

“Good girl. You want to be swollen, sore, and used by me don’t you? Want everyone to know this fucking pussy belongs to me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want me to mark you up? Not the permanent one? But show them you’re a slut for my cock? A slut for Andy Barber? You are aren’t you? You a slut for me Daisy?” you sob looking up at him, but he tsks you. “You can do better than that. Tell me. Go on, tell me!”

“I’m…I’m…” a lewd moan escapes your lips, but you can’t finish the sentence.

“Not quite.”

“I’m a slut for you.”

“For Andy Barber.”

You feel heat pool in your stomach. Just right on the precipice of an orgasm, and your teeth clench together. “Daisy!”

“I’m a slut for Andy Barber!” you cry into the night as your high rushes through your veins, leaving you a panting mess under Andy. With a devilish grin, he fucks you through your high. Never slowing down. Doesn’t even care that your body starts to quiver. “Giving me another huh? Go on my pretty little slut baby. Cum on my cock, and milk your king dry. FUCK!”

Completely melting onto your body, he kisses on your heated skin, feeling every shallow breath that he pants onto you. There’s a part of you that wants to say it. Knowing that he needs to hear more than just how he owns you, but you’re not quite ready to let him know. Instead you hands slide up his muscles back. Gripping tightly to his broad shoulders. Digging into his skin when your walls clench down tight around him. He grins as you scratch down his skin as you cum hard over his cock. His hot spunk painting deep inside of you.

“If you weren’t pregnant before. That’ll do it,” Andy runs his nose over your sticky and heated skin. “One of these days, you’re gonna ask me for it, instead of provoking me. You’ll know that I would drop to my knees and worship you and your body, and all you have to do is ask. Fucking tell me you want me, and I will give it to you.”

Slowly he pulls out of you, sitting up to watch himself leak out of you, before he fingers his cream back in.

“You hold the power over me, Daze. Everyone in the Spades know it. Hell every suit fucking knows it. That’s why you’re locked up in the compound. Everyone knows it but you.”

“Andy…I…I just don’t understand why.”

“Because I love you,” he pauses at the admission. Both of you unbelieving of the words he just said.

“You’ve always been my queen, and I’ll quit treating you like a slut when you realize that,” opening your mouth, you start to protest, “Or I can treat you like a slut,” he chuckles. “Sex doesn’t always have to be so rough and hard. I could make love to you. Have your body sliding over our window as I sink you over my cock over and over again. Let you ride on top of me while I praise every freckle on your body. Sex is more than fucking. It’s more than making a baby. It’s what separates you from them,” his finger points towards your bedroom door.

“No one, and I mean no one gets this side of me. I have never wanted more than fucking with anyone but you. And when you’re ready, I’ll give it to you. But until then, I’ll continue to use your body. You are a slut for Andy Barber.”

Bucky runs up behind you, stopping you before you walk into the kitchen for breakfast, “Hi…uh, I didn’t really know what to say. Um…I don’t know if Andy explained any…”

“He told me everything, Bucky,” you give him a warm smile, and attempt to walk away. “Steve’s on duty this morning. He’ll worry if I’m late.”

“No…I know. Winter, she’s still asleep. But it is really important. Lloyd would kill her. He gets off on control.”

“I’m very aware on what Lloyd gets off on. I was his prisoner. And even though Andy knew where I was, he told me to stay and take my punishment while I gathered information. Don’t talk to me about what Lloyd likes.”

“I’m sorry. I am. It was fucked up. That little girl, she didn’t ask for this life. Doesn’t know her mom, has never spent time around women. She knows this compound. She wanders around at night because she thinks it’s safe. I would take her for walks. She knows me, Andy, Sam, Nick, and Steve. And now you.”

Nodding your head, you understand. He presses a hand against your stomach, and sighs. “A love for a child is like no other. Andy adores her, would stay up late with her when she was teething. He’s a good man. He’ll make an amazing father, and since he’s chose you, you’ll make an amazing mother.”

“A breeding tool for his own pleasure.”

“You believe that?” his silvery eyes look all over your face. “I know you don’t. The reason…would you spend time with Winter? I couldn’t get her to sleep because she was asking questions. It’s hard to get her to bathe because she doesn’t want me to see her, and she doesn’t always get her hair clean. Please, she’s just a child. She’s only five. She needs a woman. Please.”

“Okay.”

“Steve can stay close. Your dog is coming, and…”

“I know. The dog has to be with me at all times. The suit of the wolves, and I get stuck with my own.”

“He means well. Andy,” he sighs, leading you into the kitchen. Before you can even start to get something, he’s making a tray for the both you and Winter.

“He’s intense. You don’t know what he had to go through to get to this point. You see Andy now. The most powerful of the suits. When he was chosen for the King…we were the lowest suit. He ruled his territory with steadiness. Fear comes to play sometimes yes. But Andy isn’t irrational.”

You scoff. Normally you wouldn’t have any reaction with Bucky. You know that he reports to Andy. Him and Steve keep nothing from him.

“He’s irrational with you because you push his buttons. You defy him. You question his reasoning. Andy is smart. Trust him. Nick will be with you around noon. Steve and I have to collect from the businesses,” leaning back you groan.

“What’s wrong with Nick?”

“I’m used to you and Steve. You mostly stand there. You don’t talk. Nick, he wants to be friends. He…never mind,” Bucky gives you a questioning look. “He’s fine.”

“Andy will listen to you,” you can only roll your eyes, going behind him to pick up a blueberry from the fruit bowl. Popping it in your mouth, you don’t recall anything ever tasting so good.

“That’s his cousin. We all have our duties. Remember yours.”

“Trust me, I was laying my back last night and this morning.”

“To keep him happy. That’s your duty,” Bucky tells you. Swiftly grabbing the tray to walk you to the mysterious bedroom. “Steve will be with you shortly. I told him to have a moment this morning. I knew you’d say yes.”

“You just know everything, huh?”

He turns around putting his back to the door and smiles at you. “I do. I know you’ll make a great queen for Andy. I know you’ll give him plenty of children, and you know why?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because, you’re fighting your feelings for him so hard. Trying to deny just how much you want him, need him, and love him. I also saw how you watched my daughter with Andy. Your face lit up every time that he looked at her. You didn’t notice, but your fingers were rubbing on his arm. Touch is becoming second nature to you, Daisy. So quit fighting it. He always gets what he wants.”

He stops speaking quickly. Pushing the door in and smiles at his sleeping daughter. “Aspen, wake her up,” that fluff ball’s head jumps up, and she gives Winter a few licks on her cheek. “Winter, I brought you a surprise. She’s gonna stay with you today.”

“You are!” she sits up in her bed and stares at you so sweetly. Even if you wanted to say no, now you couldn’t. “I have waited my whole life to spend the day with you. And you get a new puppy!”

Next

Masterlist

[bears-kin-cafe]

Could you do names and neos for a c!fundy fictive?

no problem!! didn't know if you wanted any gender specific names so i kinda threw a few different ones in there (a lot are uni-sex though)

names:

erickson

madison

jay

adrian

eclipse

aspen

ryver/river

colin

fern

dice

neos:

jump/jumps

hop/hops

hyrm/hyrms

mrrp/mrrps

fen/necs - (as in like "fen went to the store, and necs been there for a while so fen should be back soon. [name] just needed to get some stuff for fennecself")

boy/boys (/srs)

yip/yips

fern/ferns

for/rest

wae/waves

i hope these work! if you want anymore feel free to ask!

[hepatosaurus]

national poetry month, day 22

Language Silence is one part of speech, the war cry of wind down a mountain pass another. A stranger’s voice echoing through lonely valleys, a lover’s voice rising so close it’s your own tongue: these are keys to cipher, the way the high hawk’s key unlocks the throat of the sky and the coyote’s yip knocks it shut, the way the aspens’ bells conform to the breeze while the rapids’ drums define resistance. Sage speaks with one voice, pinyon with another. Rock, wind her hand, water her brush, spells and then scatters her demands. Some notes tear and pebble our paths. Some notes gather: the bank we map our lives around. —Camille T. Dungy

[updatesfromspaceblog]

“… I stood up, the ground was getting closer and closer to my face. I was falling forward face first directly into a pile of horse shit…”

Sheyenne National Grassland, April ‘17

 Found some long lost photos buried in my hard drive. I initially wrote off most of these photos as throwaways- partially because the trip was one giant sleep deprived disaster and in part because I didn’t think any of them were all that great. We had to cancel our trip out west because of “the virus”.  I’ve been feeling a bit trapped not being able to travel. These photos made me miss even my worst trips. Doing my best to keep in mind that I still have things to look forward to and these restrictions are temporary.

...

It was the third New Moon of the year, mid to late April if I remember correctly. I had just completed my first solo Backcountry trip in Badlands National Park and was feeling pretty confident in my camping/hiking/ star photo abilities. I set up camp behind a grass covered sand dune about three miles into Sheyenne National Grassland on the North Country Trail, the only drinkable water source in the area. I generally think of North Dakota as the land of flat nothingness as far as the eye can see, but this place feels a lot more like the set of a sci-fi horror film. Old aspen and birch tree stands, prairie chickens everywhere, country quiet, and rolling sand dunes blanketed in grass and wildflowers. If I could sum up the atmosphere of this place I would say it’s like if the Blair Witch Project was set on an abandoned planet.  As I was finishing setting my tent up, my "comfort knife" popped out of its sheath and punctured my sleeping pad. I didn't bring any patches, but this wasn't a huge issue- there was plenty of dead grass and soft sand , so I piled it up under the tent, threw a tarp over it and called it a bed. Camp was set. I went out and laid in the tall grass to read a book. About an hour went by. I stood up, but the ground was getting closer and closer to my face. I was falling forward face first directly into a pile of horse shit. Important detail- I had been sipping on some cheap whiskey, and had unwittingly managed to finish 3/4 of a 500ml bottle on an empty stomach.   I’m not even to the embarrassing part yet.  I ate dinner, sobered up,scouted my shot locations, and went to bed at 6pm. At some point in the night I dreamt that I was in a heated argument with Slender Man. I didn't feel terror, only frustration. I remember saying something to the extent of "I get that killing people is, like, your thing or whatever but you should really be more considerate of other people's feelings" Needless to say, Slender Man killed me. I woke up sweating, the sound of a group of coyotes yip howling not so far down river from my tent sent me into information overload mode. I started peeing. In my pants.  I rolled out of the tent as quick as I could, and there I was. Laying out under the stars with coyotes howling up a storm. A full grown adult. Peeing. In my big boy pants. I took the damn pants off and washed them as best as I could. They were soaked. It was about midnight, so I'm still on schedule for my shoot, but I am pant less and the temperature is hovering around 25 degrees. I took two sweaters, cut them up, and duct taped them together to create fully functional and super uncomfortable pants.   My shoot went on with quite a few problems, lens froze over, lost feeling in my hands for a bit, and got turned around in the woods. I called it a night at about 430am. I woke up that morning around 8 am, the first thing I saw was the pile of torn up sweaters and duct tape that used to be my pants. I walked up the sand dune to pee in nothing but a shirt and boots, it was about 20 degrees.  I stood there peeing, looking out over the prairie dunes and mooing cows, a truly country experience. As I turned back towards camp, I see a family bicycling down the trail dressed in their Sunday best. They were pretty far away but it was clear that they had seen me- a 6 foot tall pale bearded man wearing nothing but a shirt and boots in 30 degree weather on a Sunday morning…  I bowed my head in shame, and disappeared back behind my sand dune. I know somewhere in the small surrounding townships there are stories of the crazy hermit of the Grasslands. I truly hope it becomes a horror story passed around campfires for years to come. 

[hauntedxbandofxfreaks]

@thewomen-inwhite liked for a starter from Azazel

       Azazel watched the nymph carefully, tail swaying back and forth a bit as he did so. She was the newest addition to Leo’s troupe, he was curious about her, plus she made his master a little on edge, at lest that’s what the hellhound sensed. He yipped a little to get her attention. “You’re Aspen, yeah?” He asked.