vexsexton

[noisytenant]

worldbuilding exercise: create a series of prohibitions on fundamental actions, with specific conditions. consider the loopholes by which daily tasks are carried out while still obeying the rules

[shotmrmiller]

Submitting to his dominance— part III

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: dubious-con???, light mentions of violence, tied up for a moment, biting, thigh riding, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie, this is just vulgar idk what to say.

WC: 3k

A/N: this is it. i didn't plan on using the small drabble of jealousy for this but it worked better for me in the end. this is totally self-indulgent gg yall

You’re on a call with a friend, excitedly discussing your upcoming date with Gaz. Telling her how the both of you are still getting to know each other, just dipping your toes in the water— but the chemistry you both felt was natural, and your friend was screaming on the other end of the line, excited for you.

Approaching your front door, you’re giggling at something they said when you turn your doorknob and push. It opens.  Unlocked. You never leave your flat unlocked. After a moment, you let your friend know you’ll call her later and pivot, dialing the police. Just as you’re about to leave, a recognizable voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Get inside, pet.” 

Ghost. 

Resolutely shaking your head, you firmly say, “No. I blocked you for a reason. Stay here as long as you like, I’m going to Johnny’s.”

In a split second, you find yourself yanked back by a forceful hand clutching onto your hair, causing a jolt of pain as a few strands give way. The grip on your hair intensifies, and you're forcefully dragged into your apartment, confined within its walls with a slam of the door. 

“Are you fucking—”, Ghost cuts you off with a rough palm over your mouth. Anger surges through your veins, nostrils flaring,  and you lift your arm to strike him when he uses the hand covering your mouth to slam your head against the wall— not too hard but with just enough strength to remind you of the position you’re in. Who you’re in here with.

“Hands to yourself, girl. You’d be pickin’ a fight you couldn’t even dream of winnin’.”

Maybe he had a suspicion that you’d test him again because he swiftly rotated you and fastened your wrists with zip ties behind you— before turning you around once again to face him.

How fucking dare he. Oh, if looks could kill. 

You give him the most hateful scowl you can muster, and he looks at you for just a second, almost mockingly. He lifts the mask to uncover his mouth and then tries to press his lips to your neck, but that’s not about to happen. You move your head and shoulder to prevent him from getting anywhere near,  when he moves his hand to fist your hair and yanks. You don’t know what made your eyes tear up. If it’s the stinging ache of your scalp or the twinge in your neck from how hard he pulled. It was silly of you to think he wouldn’t just take what he wants— he’s done it so far.

Ghost has the nerve to chuckle as if he didn’t almost break your neck.

“Don’t be dramatic, pet. If I wanted y’dead, you wouldn’t have even seen me coming.” 

Not realizing you spoke aloud, you’re about to purposefully speak your mind when his lips latch onto the delicate skin of your neck, sucking hard, to the point of pain. And he does it again, on the other side. The sting of his hickeys causes you to whimper, and you assume he likes the noise that involuntarily slips out of you because he grinds his clothed erection against your core while sucking a mark on the fluttering vein in your neck. 

Ghost pulls back, fist still in your hair, and rubs his thumb across the throbbing bruises as if admiring his work. “Hey,” and moves his shirt to reveal his neck— showing you a half dozen blotchy marks that his other conquests put there, and with mirth says, “We match.” 

You start thrashing at that, as best you can while being restrained, and the intense fury of why you even blocked him in the first place comes back to the forefront of your mind. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream. You raise your leg to kick him when he readily grabs it, effortlessly lifting you off the floor. He lets your one leg hang over the arm he has sturdily planted on the wall before grabbing the other to do the same— and pins you flat with his hips, bulge pressed firmly against your cunt. Your arms ache with pain as they are ruthlessly pinned behind you against the wall, pulling a hiss of agony from you.

“Now, now,” he taunts, “There’s no need to get pissy over me sleeping with someone else. Y’asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend, lovie.” 

“Yeah,” you grit out, “You’ve made that clear enough, with your little flings Johnny told me about.” 

“Aw, and tha’s got your knickers in a twist, does it?” he grinds his hips, “Would you believe me if I said tha’ you’re the prettiest?”

You snort. “Piss off— and actually piss the fuck off. You can go get your dick wet with someone else.” 

“Why would I wanna do that when I got y’here spread open so willingly f’me?” and grinds his hips again. 

You were about to retort about the ‘willingly’ being questionable when he latches onto your skin again but this time, he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Your nails dig into your palms, eyes welling with tears at the sharp pain of the bite. 

“Ah— stop, please stop” and it feels like he bites down even harder before finally relenting. His teeth come off your skin leaving behind a dark, angry purple imprint. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, pet.”

Ghost looks up from the bite to your eyes and notices them glassy with unshed tears— licking off the ones that did spill. He trails soft stubbly kisses from your jawline to the corner of your mouth almost to coax it open. You wish you were a stronger person to resist his allure, but his mystique pulled you into his orbit. His touch ignited the spark in you to a flame, and you cave.

His mouth caresses yours open, your body melting against his. You let out little, breathy moans, and when he sloppily licked into your mouth, you caught his tongue and sucked— pulling the raunchiest, cunt-clenching sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. You let go of his tongue with a pop.

He moves his hands off the wall to dig into your arse and walks to your couch, putting your back to the cushions as he pulls off your pants. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you towards him, making you straddle his muscular thigh while his hands wrap around your waist, reaching for your bound wrists.

“I’ma take this off. I wouldn’t try hittin’ me again.” You feel a snap, the tingle of your blood rushing through the mark left by the zip tie, and shrug— in an attempt to ease some of the aches in your shoulders from being forcefully positioned for so long.

You side-eye the military pocket knife he used to cut the ties, wondering when he took it out— where he even hid it. Ghost leans forward to shrug off his leather jacket, pulls off his shirt while keeping his mask over his mouth, and tosses them to the other side of the sofa. You knew he was fit but seeing just how much made you a tad insecure. The separation of the muscle from the round of his shoulders to the bulge of his bicep, with the vein running along the bicep was mouthwatering. Strong vascular forearms, only one of them with a half sleeve. You can see the muscle striation of his full-looking pecs, his abs clear cut, obliques you could count with your fingers. Ridiculously fit, unlike yourself. Soft tummy, thick meaty thighs, and fleshy hips. He brings you out of your musing with a hard slap to your arse.

“Out of your head and back here w’me, eh?” he says while soothing the sting with his calloused hand. “I can feel how warm your cunt is through my jeans. Go on,” and lifts his hand to rub a thumb over your mound, “ride my thigh.”

The feel of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans and his thumb rubbing firm circles on it has your pussy growing wet, leaving a damp spot behind on him. One hand grips you to push you through the motions, and you continue to roll your hips— chasing the friction you need. 

The circles he’s drawing turn slippery as the tension of your impending orgasm intensifies. Your legs start to shake as you stroke yourself on the length of his thigh and the steady roll of your clit under his thumb is about to make you break, your walls fluttering when Ghost pulls away— abruptly leaving you at the ledge, and it stings. 

“Y’didn’t think I was gonna just let you come with how bratty you’ve been?” and you let out an angry whine. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as you do, and he shoves two of his long fingers into it, and curls them over your tongue— and you close your throat to prevent your gag reflex.

“Atta girl, love,” the smirk he gives is so irrationally smug, that you want to bite him. He puts both of his thighs in between your legs to spread you, letting him get a good look at your swollen, dripping cunt.

He pulls his fingers out glossy with your spit to rub them through your folds, then presses one, and then the other. He pushes to half the length of his fingers and curls, pushing directly on the sensitive patch of nerves. Ghost repeatedly presses against it, and the noises you and your cunt start to make are lewd, sloppy. 

Your pleasure starts to rise again, back to where he left you off with every precise drag of his fingers over your patch of nerves, your body feels like it’s radiating heat, your vision starting to go white when again, he leaves you hanging. Right at the fucking edge and you dry sob from how pleasurably painful it is. 

Ghost grabs your neck with a firm, wet grip and pulls your face to his, lips hovering over yours, breath mingling. 

“With me in you or none at all, pet,” and slaps your cheek, leaving behind a sticky residue. 

Quickly divesting himself of his jeans, he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he watches you bounce on your mattress. He’s about to crawl over to you when you put your foot flat against his chest. 

“I’m not fucking you without a condom when you still have the evidence of your promiscuity on you.” 

He grabs that ankle and wraps it around him, lifting its twin to do the same, then places himself between your thighs— resting some of his body weight on you. 

“I never sleep with anyone without protection. You’d be the first in many years,” and you scoff at him. He grabs your jaw, cheeks squishing under his fingers, demanding eye contact. 

“I’m many things but a liar isn’t one of ‘em. You’ve done so well f’me, been so obedient. You’re the only one I want to feel without any barriers. ” 

This reminds you of how much of a bastard he is. Taking wheat and spinning it into gold, just to get what he wants. 

“And how many times has that line worked for you?” whimpering at the feel of his heavy cock rubbing against your wet cunt. 

“You’re the only one I wanna see my cum drip out of, pet. I swear it,” and he starts to push into you. Even being as drenched as you are, your cunt still struggles to take him. He gives one thrust and it reaches halfway before it stops— almost like it’s stuck. Ghost pulls out, cock slippery and creamy with your juices then pushes in again. It’s like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water— he sinks to the hilt.

It burns. It’s an ache and his length feels too large, too much, but hearing this typically silent behemoth of a man mumbling into your ear has you groaning at his depth. 

“Fuck, baby, fuckin’ hell sweetheart—”, the salacious groan in your ear makes you clench your gummy walls around his invasion. He moves slowly, giving a series of unhurried, languid thrusts. 

“I’m gonna make sure this tight cunt fits me and no one else,” and that has you thinking if he said that because of your upcoming date, but then with a soft slap to your cheek, he shifts— bringing himself to his knees. Ghost grabs the back of yours and pushes them to your ears. You’re bent in half, can barely breathe, and then he gives you a knowing smirk— with just one corner of his mouth lifted as the only warning before he pounds into you. 

Viciously.

Unsparingly.

Every thrust of his has the tip of his head firmly pressing into your cervix with an obscene squelch. The deep pinch you feel against your womb brings tears to your eyes. 

He’s merciless with how hard he fucks you, and you can’t do anything other than take it, thoroughly pinned under his body weight. Ghost then lets go of one leg to cover your mouth with his hand before angling his hips upwards— just a tad and the angle is so sharp he has you screaming. He must’ve known exactly what was gonna happen because he’s completely unfazed by how loud you’re being, just presses down on your mouth even harder.

“Keep taking it, pet, I know you can,” he growls out, but it feels like he’s actually rearranging your guts, so deep inside you can feel him in your throat. His rhythm is unrelenting, and the coil that Ghost has kept tightly wound all this time threatens to snap, and you’re sure it’s going to break you.

He hisses as he feels your cunt quivering around his cock, and he definitely knows what’s about to happen because he then slows his hips and cuts through your pleasure with his selfish demand.

“You tell Gaz that this weekend is cancelled and I’ll fuck you against that wall and let you come,” and you’re babbling out your surrender, jerky nods of your head. You’re okay with losing this battle because you’re winning this war unequivocally. 

Ghost pulls out aggressively, pulls you to the edge of the bed to position your ankles at his shoulder, and lifts— walking to the wall, pinning you. He slaps your arse before sliding back in again. 

“M’good girl has earned her reward, hasn’t she?” and with that, he lets spit dribble from his mouth to land on your clit. 

“Lemme see you touch yourself,” and resumes his thrusts, this time pushing directly into your sweet spot, again and again. You rub circles in rhythm with his thrusting, your body starting to seize. 

“Fuck, tha’s it, love, fuck me,” and he moans when the nails of your unoccupied hand dig into his shoulder. “Jesus, yeah, scratch me. Leave a mark— I wanna see you on me tomorrow,” and he starts to piston into you at a punishing pace, and he in combination with your fingers has you careening into one of the most, if not the most, overwhelming orgasm of your life. 

You tense, and with no control, actually scream out your peak. Wave after wave of blindingly brutal pleasure, nothing but a ringing in your ears and your limbs that violently tremble— relieving the ache that has been in between your thighs for weeks, from Ghost’s ruthless edging. 

The choking vice your cunt has on his cock sends him over, groaning out his climax. He’s grinding so deep in you that it just hurts, then thrusts himself into oversensitivity. 

He backpedals, taking you with him in his arms, and falls back onto your bed with a grunt. You’re rubbing the marks your nails left on his shoulders— just an imprint. Good. Then, you shift yourself upwards, straddling his ribcage to touch the lovebites. 

“You didn’t really think I’d leave a trophy for you to take home, did you?” and his dark eyes unblinkingly stare at you. Gazing right back, you say, “I won’t be a part of your collection.” But you’re not sure if you aren’t already, seeing as how it’s his cum dripping out of you and landing on his stomach. 

“But an agreement is an agreement,” and get up to grab your phone. Sending Gaz a quick text, you then turn the screen towards Ghost. 

Can’t see you this weekend, Gaz. Sorry:(

Oh, the belly laugh Ghost lets out at the response Gaz sent makes your face flush.

We talked about this, doll. Our date is next weekend. 

“Now I,” you get up, leaving Ghost lying on your bed with his spend drying on his belly, “am gonna go shower, and you can let yourself out. I asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend.”

As you saunter to your bathroom, you turn your head to end it with, “Seeing as how I won’t be needing you anymore, delete my number.” 

—

By the time you step out of your bathroom squeaky clean, your apartment is as if you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life. Everything looked in order, bed comforter tucked with hospital corners— empty. Except your phone wasn’t where you left it. You walk over to pick it up and on the screen is a text from Ghost’s number. He unblocked himself and changed the name of his contact to Simon.

If you wanted exclusivity, all you had to do was ask, love. Tell Gaz to fuck off for good, I’ll see you soon.

You quickly run to your bathroom and slam the door closed. Squealing, you dial Gaz’s number. 

“Hello, doll,” his voice is low, as if he was asleep.

“It worked! We did it! We—” and you cut yourself off, “Wait, did I wake you?”

He chuckles and you can hear another deep male voice in the background. 

“OH! Oh. You weren’t sleeping! OK! Sorry! So sorry! I’m hanging up!” and press the end call button. 

To beat the player, you must first learn how to play the game.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @channelsoph @imasimpl0l @hellshire-harlot @mesyakee @leeeenistop @kerst666 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thychuvaluswife

[zeroseuniverse]

Sinful Urges

WC: 1.3K

Pairing: Seokmin X Fem Reader

Warnings: stabbing, death, murder

“I don’t think she likes me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She hit me with her car.”

“It could have been an accident.”

“She looked me dead in the eye and reversed.”

Honestly, Seokmin probably should have expected it, dragging a human out of their bed in the middle of the night didn’t typically warrant a friendly interaction. But in his defense he really had to win the bet against Dino, the youngest claiming that they as demons couldn’t take humans if their feet were uncovered at night. 

“Why are you so hung up on this human anyway? I know you have your flings but she’s a little too far from your usual type.” Joshua wondered, reclining back in his chair, the black markings on his face becoming more visible as the light shifted with his movement.

“It’s because she’s the only human that doesn’t lay down and take it.” Woozi snickered at his own statement, it was true, majority of Seokmin’s interest was piqued when the woman still had the balls to sass him even when he brought her into the underworld, however it might’ve also stemmed from the utter sin dripping the innocent looking woman.  It was odd to find someone so covered in the alluring scent of sins that his mouth almost watered when near, and her round face and doe eyes didn’t match the scent attached to her soul, making her all the more enticing.

“I just don’t understand how she can smell so good but I haven’t caught her doing anything remotely sinful.”

“Well you don’t follow her every second of every day.” Mingyu pointed out, his pointed teeth making his words almost sound like a hiss. “You do have other responsibilities, maybe she is just sneaky.” He had a point and almost every member of their legion knew that Seokmin was not as slick as he thought, the lower level demon was loud, his demon ability also gave off a low hum, and if you were aware of it you’d essentially have a beacon to him if he was close enough. 

“Take her by surprise, show up suddenly, completely out of your usual rotation.” Jeonghan suggested, the man finding the whole situation pretty funny, Seokmin has never been so interested in a female before it was only fitting he help this play out. 

“Won’t she sense me?” 

“Go a few days without showing up at all, she won’t expect it and you can just trick her.” Seungkwan explained, pulling out his mischievous side, Whole heartedly wanting to see this go up in flames, this human was a smart one that's for sure.

–

So showing up after a week without seeing her was driving him mad, was she always this pretty? She looked a little tired, was it because of him?  Did she notice his absence? So many questions bounced around his brain as he watched her hooded figure walk down the street. 

She was clad in thick clothes to combat the tough chill of the winter, he could hardly see the mask she had covering half of her face. Why was she out so late? And while it was so cold? He was a little annoyed that she'd be so stupid to do such a thing. 

She grinned silently to herself as she heard the slight hum in the air, he was near. In his absence she was a little disheartened, the annoying demon wasn’t there to pester her throughout her daily activities; it was all dull and boring. 

She was feeling rather agitated which is why she fell into her old habits she had been trying to reign in. Taking out most of her aggression on the immortal was probably the best plan she has ever had but with him taking a sudden absence, old habits die hard, as they say. 

The quiet hum Seokmin admitted was becoming quiet background noise, as the sound of a small fire crackled in the distance. Turning the corner into a small alleyway, sits a ragged homeless man curled around the fire, glossy eyes staring back at her. Her hands stuffed into her jacket pocket, fiddling with a small hunters knife. 

“Fine night, isn’t it Miss?” He croaks out, ushering her to join him. Enjoy the warmth of the small fire on the harsh winters’ night. She kneels down beside him, taking in his shaggy appearance on closer inspection, eyes’ glazed over, a sick blue tint to his cracked lips, and the dirt caked onto his tattered clothing, braiding into his long, unkempt hair. 

Seokmin's gaze almost felt piercing as his hum grew stronger, conflicting over the situation he loomed over. ‘How can she smell decadent, dripping in sin when her actions show no correlation?’. 

He’s ripped out of his train of thought at your sudden lunge towards the man. A silver glint catches his eye as the knife lodged itself in his neck, a curdled scream cuts through the silence. Blood sprays out as her smile widens. The homeless man weakly reaches to his neck, clawing at the knife as his hands stain crimson red. 

Seokmin takes in the sight of the man's hand going limp and the blood splattered across the woman’s face as if that would make it make sense. His quiet hum only encouraged her, feeling the need to put on a show for the demon spectator. The knife rips out and is quickly reinserted as the man falls back, choking gasps and cries filling her ears. 

“Rest easy, Mister.” Whispering out, almost in a songlike tone as she thrusts the knife in, allowing it to be drowned in his blood. She stills for a minute, breathing deeply as she stares down the life she’s taken. Almost as if on autopilot, she drags the body up against the dumpster, resting a blanket over him and stuffing the knife back in her pocket. Seokmin’s hum being the only thing on her mind. 

“You can come out now.” She hummed, hearing an almost silent chime, she probably wouldn’t have caught hadn’t the night not been as quiet as the dead. 

“So this is why you smell like sin?” He asked with a tilted head, eyes fluttering around the scene to get more information, the scent lingering around her grew after she killed the man, leaving little to deduce. The man was innocent. She just killed an innocent man.

“Like you haven’t done worse.” She shot back, pushing past him, as Seokmin rushed to follow her steps. 

“Not judging it, just curious how exactly you can keep it so quiet that a demon who follows you around hasn’t noticed.” He inquired while kicking the tip of his shoe into the path before him a little. 

“You aren’t around all of the time,” she shrugged, before taking a left turn down a new road, “And I haven’t been doing it recently.” Her tone was too casual for the blood caked in her nails. 

“Why's that? Scared the demon will catch you and take you away?” He teased, leaning his head forward to try to catch her gaze.

“Definitely not,” she deadpanned, slowing down her pace slightly now that she's further away from her crime, “You can’t die. So I’ve been getting most of my urges out on you without realizing, until you were gone.”

“So you…like having me around?” He asked confusedly, looking at the very odd woman next to him. She felt like a book with blank pages, he felt like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a clear read on her. 

“Yea, yea I guess I do.” She smiled softly at the thought. Maybe this demon isn’t so annoying after all. 

And with that the two lost souls intertwined just a little more, looking at each other with soft smiles and light hearts. The sweet scent of sin mixed with the gentle hum as they lost themselves in the snowy path home. 

“For the record I’ll let you stab me anytime,” He grinned before a loud,  “OW!” took over the quiet night followed by an agitated “What?! You offered!” 

A shout out to @mini-mews for being a savior and helping me with this story

[mettatons-fat-doughy-asscheeks]

Prompt:

Mettaton's undeniable failing heath betraying his public image of denying his obesity live during one of his shows in some way...

*The barely mobile robot enjoyed the chance to go to a guest event while his current projects were on a worryingly indefinite hiatus. While she'd not reached his levels of fame Undyne had become a minor social media personality on the surface, her former status in the royal guard and close connection to the missing child that freed the monsters leading to late night interviews that made her a household name to some. She was vague on the details but doing ANYTHING besides over the phone interviews or fan shoutout videos was a welcome change of pace to Mettaton.

*As he waddled up on stage, an Undyne themed workout jumpsuit with matching sweatband given by the costume department and hugging every bloated flabby curve of his body, he immediately began to sweat under hot lighting. Before he could wave to the crowd a familiar voice rang out over speakers, Undyne yelling into and peaking a microphone from above that stage on scaffolding. Live footage of her was mirrored on a large screen.

*HELLO AND WELCOME FITNESS MANIACS!! ANYBODY IN THE AUDIENCE RECOGNIZE OUR NEXT CONTESTANT?! OF COURSE NOT HE'S A WHALE COMPARED TO WHEN HE LAST SHOWED UP ON TV!!

*The screen flipped from the muscled host to the less than fit guest, an overlay put next to him of an older FAR thinner photo of himself. Before he could even react to what he felt was pure SLANDER against him muscled stage hands arrived to walk him over to the first fitness challenge. The grave and insurmountable obstacle? A treadmill set on its lowest setting of course.

*TRY THAT ONE ON FOR SIZE, PORKER!!

*While most would need to keep up at most a brisk walk to keep up with treadmill like this it was a marathon for the oversized robot. He was moving faster than he had in over a year at this point, a pathetic sped up waddle that had him wheezing like a hog in less than a minute. A large timer appeared on the screen, counting down 5 whole minutes he'd need to "run".

*At minute one he was softly wheezing and the sweat from moments earlier began to leave visible stains on the pits of his sweatsuit. His waddle required a wide gait to keep speed, the excess of movement wobbling his stacked rolly gut and making the moobs sagging atop them slap softly on its surface. His arms, although unintentional, were probably moving more than they had in weeks.

*Minute two his labored breaths were picked up by his lapel microphone, broadcasting to the entire audience a mixture of exhaustion and involuntary moans.

*Minute 3 the sweat stains were visible on every roll covered by the sweat suit, something it wasn't particularly holding up to. The top had long rode up and let his gut free to the viewing pleasure of the entire audience. The bottoms were no match for an avalanche of ass the oozed out, it's entire top half uncovered and showing a pair of boxers with a stretched out graphic of Undyne's smiling face. His mic began to pic up something besides breathing, a soft rhythmic sound.

*Minute four would be the last milestone. Not only was it evident that Mettaton's battery was beginning to run on its last quarter but the treadmill wasn't able to stand much more either they both slowed down as the rhythmic thumping grew louder and louder. By the time he gripped his chest with 30 seconds left on the timer it became obvious what it was. As he stopped and let the treadmills final rotations push him off and onto his back with a loud WHUMP he wheezed out helplessly a few words barely loud enough to be picked up on the microphone.

*A-Alphys.... Heart..... Pain.... Hungry....

*Undyne being the good host she was jumped down from her scaffolding and onto the main state just beside the collapsed robot, a wide sharky grin on her face while she looked down at him condescendingly and spoke.

*Don't worry butterbag! Our resident scientist is just backstage ready to keep you from flatlining! If you're lucky she'll give ya some lipo too!!

[autisticempathydaemon]

[F4M] The Virgin Princess and the Frog-Man

Tags: [Fantasy] [Rape] [Monster] [Brat Taming] [Degradation] [Begging] [Fingering] [Creampie] [Mentions of Breeding] [Mentions of Free Use]

Type: NSFW

Tagline: What are you going to do, make me kiss you?

Tone: Bratty, spoiled, demanding

SFX: None

WC: 1,452, ~13 - 15 minutes

[Light humming and hair brushing, surprised gasp, sigh] You scared me, little Frog. What are you doing here? Don’t you have a dirty, scum filled pond to swim in somewhere?

[Scoff] This nonsense again. Don’t you have other little, gross creatures to bother and dance with rather than bother me incessantly? Everywhere I turn, all day, I see your disgusting, little body, all covered in slime and dirt and threatening to sully my dress, and I’m tired of it. Go on, shoo.

(Condescendingly sweet) Poor, dumb, ugly little creature; are you too stupid to get home to the swamp you crawled out from? You’re in luck. I am the future queen of this kingdom, and I shall rule more land than your feeble, pea-sized brain could ever fathom. I will be a benevolent ruler, and I will help you.

[Loud, vicious smack, cruel laughter] (Aside, distracted) That’ll teach it a lesson. I must have the castle wizard cast stronger pest control spells lest I have to dirty my hair brush again. I-

[Magical transformation noises] (Flustered) Little Frog… man?? What are you- how have you- Why are you naked?

You know what? I cannot be bothered to care. Make your leave before I make you leave. Curse or not, you are uncovered and… at attention before your future queen, and I will not be witness to your- your- indecency!

(Shocked) What? What do you mean “no”? I said leave! Do you not understand the words coming out of my mouth, you vile, obscene thing? Do not take another step, or I’ll-

[Sound of Princess being pushed against the vanity and forcefully kissed, punctuated with struggling and protests] (Out of breath, weakly struggling) How dare you? I am royalty, ordained by God to rule; you will not touch me with your disgusting, slimy hands or defile my mouth with your unnatural tongue. Unhand me at once, and maybe I won’t have your head chopped off and set before me on a stick-!

[Grunt, yelp] Let me up! How dare you push me and bend me over as if I were a common wench- Get your hands out from under my skirts!! The guards will do their rotations any moment, and when they see how you’ve pinned and humiliated the future queen, you’ll wish you were dead. You’ll beg for mercy and be refused-

[Startled moan, schlicking and restrained moan/whimpers begin] I am not wet, as you so crudely put it; that must be the disgusting slick that coats your fingers. I would never stoop so low, would never debase myself as to allow my body to react to a filthy, unnatural thing like you. You’re such a pitiful, sad creature resorting to brute force to take what is above your station. Leave me be, and I may be kind-!

[Loud moan and pause as we breach the point of no return] (Weak with pleasure, fighting the incoming orgasm) No, it does not. It feels wrong for your big… beastly hand and tongue to reach inside where even I do not touch, for what was kept pure for my future husband.

Of course not, it would be improper and sinful. That part of my body is only to be used by the future king to bring forth an heir. Your touch will have no effect on me.

Your unholy, unnatural tongue may twist and undulate deep alongside your fingers, but I will not be broken, and I will not give into your carnal tricks. I am a princess, and you are an animal.

[Schlicking stops, gasp] (Desperate) You will not. Please. You have humiliated me enough, but penetration is too much. I must be kept pure.

I will do whatever you ask, give you whatever you want. You could leave here without a hair on your head harmed. I could give you riches, land, a title, anything.

[Threatening schlicking] (More desperate) I will say whether you want, whatever you command, so long as you don’t do that.

(Being fed lines, mortified) I am a terrible princess not worthy to rule. I am only fit for running my stupid, slut mouth and being bent over my fine, useless things. I will submit to my betters, to my Frog Prince, and spread my legs and… pussy when I am told… Will that suffice?

What do you mean “no”?

[Insertion] (Gutted) You bastard. You sick, twisted, bastard villain, take it out.

[Fucking and restrained moaning begins] I didn’t say to put it back in!

It does not feel good, you frog bastard. Your cock as you call it is disgusting and uncomfortably hot inside me. Such a dirty, pulsing thing could never bring me pleasure no matter how you grind it against my womb.

That’s not me! The slick dripping down me and my thighs must be your doing, some bestial, obscene magic producing more of your filthy frog slime. It’s repulsive like your body pressed against mine and your hands roaming my skin.

I twitch and writhe because I hate this and you, because your touch and intrusion make my body burn hot with fury, nothing more, nothing less- especially there! Do not touch me there!

I don’t know what this “clitoris” is, and I don’t care. When you touch me there, my body heats even more and I can’t think straight. I don’t like it, and I will not be subjected to more of your cursed enchantments. Please just finish this.

[Unrestrained moaning begins] You villain, you dishonorable rogue. I don’t know what you are doing to me, but you will not get away with it. After you finish and abscond, I will make you pay, so please end this. (Frenetic as if nearing climax) Please end this. Please release inside of me so you may go. Please give it to me, please please please-

[Fucking and moaning stops] (Dazed, flustered) What? Why have you stopped moving? Why have you stopped touching me?

Why are you only doing as I ask now??

No, I am not pleased! Do as your Princess commands, and finish what you started!

Or… or…!

(Whining, defeated) But you can’t go. You can’t leave me here. I ache, and you must keep touching me and fix it.

(Frenzied, pleading) I’ll do anything, say anything. I’ve offered you land and money and prestige; you can still have it all, and I’ll give you more. Take the crown, the throne, the kingdom, but please just take me and ease this desperate yearning between my legs.

I will be so, so good for you and so obedient, my Prince, I promise, I swear! I’ll be as loud as you want, or I’ll not make a sound. If you release my hands, I will spread myself open and ready for you to fill and defile and consume, and I will do so so sweetly, so beautifully. All I ask for, all I want, is for you to please, please, help me and end my suffering. Please, my Prince, my love, my Lord, I need it.

[Fucking and uninhibited moaning begin] Thank you, thank you, thank you, my Prince. You are so kind and so good to me, I am in your debt and your service. I’ll beg you to use me whenever and wherever you like if it will feel like this, this sensation I could never have dreamed of.

Yes, Your Majesty, I will be so well-behaved and sweet, so wet and ready for you. I’ll not bother with skirts or corsets, and I’ll lay myself bare, pliable, and at your leisure.

Yes, you’ll be free to use my Princess hole whenever you like, Your Majesty, as your own personal plaything.

Then I shall not be a Princess anymore, and I will be your common whore and servant. I will freely surrender my crown and title at your feet and kiss them for the privilege; just please, please do not stop. Something is coming, and I will die without it.

Yes, you can finish inside of me. You can do whatever, whenever, however you like as many times as you may wish, just please give me more. Touch my clit again, please, my Frog Prince, I beg of you.

(Nearing climax) Yes, please, there, Your Majesty. There is magic in your touch and your body, and I feel it coursing through my veins, coming to a peak. It’s coming, it’s coming, I am coming, my Lord!

[Climax, heavy breathing, pause] (Ashamed) …I will give you my tiara and unspeakable riches if you abscond through the window and never darken my door again.

What?

(Fading as Mister Frog flees) What do you mean you’ll be back in three weeks? Why? What is a tadpole?

[resusheart]

Heart surgery fantasy

This is a fantasy I wrote based on the requests I received after I wrote about my heart surgery. I hope you like it.

 I went in to the OR. It was midafternoon, I had performed another surgery that morning together with the attending surgeon. I was still a surgery resident, but not for much longer, I was almost finished with my studies, I couldn’t wait to be the head surgeon, the boss. But, for now, I was the assistant and had to follow my boss’s instructions.

We usually did surgery in small children born with heart defects or on older people who needed a bypass after having had a heart attack. This time it was different, so different in fact, that we were setting up video equipment to record the surgery as a teaching experience in the future. I watched as they mounted the high definition camera in a place where it could record the surgery without blocking our vision at the same time.

I read the file, we were operating on a female, still in her forties. Not a spring chicken, but also, not an old woman either. I could hear her talking to the anesthetist while they were trying to put her under. She was nervous, but we had to be very cautious in what drugs to give her because she had a debilitating neurological condition that made titrating the meds difficult. If we used too much anesthetic she would be intubated for too long, making her diaphragm very weak and this would result in her being permanently unable to breathe by herself.

I could see she was still awake because she was breathing too fast to be asleep, but that changed quickly. She started to close her eyes slowly as the meds worked their magic, then, the anesthetist tilted her head way backwards and begin bagging her with the ambu for about a minute to keep her oxygen levels within the normal range. Then, he inserted the metal blade into her mouth and proceeded to intubate her with a long, endotracheal tube which was then connected to the respirator. Finally, I could see her chest move up and down rhythmically, in deep breaths timed to the hiss and puff sound of the machine. It was now the time for me to come near the table. I greeted the nurses, who proceeded to uncover the woman’s chest. I observed it rising and falling, looked at her skin shining under the OR light. Her breasts were rather large, and still perky despite her age. They were natural, round, soft breasts, not hard plastic ones. I liked them better this way. I kept these thoughts to myself because I could not let my colleagues know that, even in this situation, I felt aroused by my patient.

The nurse sprayed a chlorhexidine solution all over her chest and then proceeded to clean it three times very carefully. Every inch of her chest had to be sterilized before we started the procedure. Her nipples hardened with the cold and when they washed them all around holding the gauze with the pliers, I felt aroused. Fortunately, my PPE covered me completely so nobody noticed.

When she was sterile and all the areas that we would work on had been sterilized, it was time to proceed. I took the scalpel and began cutting from the top of her sternum, near her neck, all the way down to the end of the chest, exposing the bone. Then, with an electrical saw and its high pitched sound, I cut it down the middle, then proceeded to insert the spreader and rotated the handle, to slowly open the chest and be able to see the heart clearly. There it was. A beautiful, beating albeit sick heart. As always, seeing the beating organ made me quiver inside. I enjoyed seeing the EKG, with its black lines, indicating me what the heart was doing, I also loved to see the monitor and hear it’s bip, bip, bip sound, but nothing was better than seeing it like this. The heart beating inside the pleural sack. I proceeded to cut the thin skin of the sack and finally, there it was. The heart muscle, the perfect machine I had dedicated my life to.

I began working on the heart by sowing different colored markers all around it. Identifying which part of the heart is what is difficult when it has lost its shape, so these markers help us identify what goes where when we “put it back together again” after the surgery so to speak. I began by marking the aorta, then continued to mark other things as the apex, ventricles and the last one was the inferior vena cava.

We were ready to begin the longest part of the surgery and the primary surgeon was now ready to get to work. He began by inserting a big tube into the vein that went straight into the right atrium. This tube started diverting the blood from the heart and feeding it into the heart-lung machine, then, we inserted another tube into the ascending aorta. This way, while the heart stood still to allow to perform surgery, the machine would oxygenate the blood and recirculate it to the rest of the body.

At the same time, another doctor began cooling this woman’s body using the mat that was placed under her, to give us time to work inside the heart without causing damage.  

The machine started humming, the ventilator was stopped because the blood was being oxygenated elsewhere and we injected a paralyzing solution, that had mostly potassium in it, straight into the heart to make it stop. The solution was ice cold, and we placed special, sterile ice around the heart to keep it cool while we worked on it.

The paralyzing solution was in, the heart beat irregularly three or four times, then it came to a standstill. The clock that measured time on pump was turned on and seconds, then minutes, then hours went by. The silence of the OR was only interrupted by the sound of the machine pumping, while we worked on the heart itself.

On the outside, her heart looked perfect, but it was still swollen because of the endocarditis she had suffered. One morning she was feeling great, by mid-day she fell ill and that night she had been admitted to the ICU with acute sepsis resulting in her heart valves being damaged. A pacemaker had been implanted several years earlier because of her neurological condition, and the wires that connected the heart muscle to the pacemaker’s battery had become coated with infection too, so they had to be removed, and, due to the location and size of it, it had to be done by hand.

When the heart stood still and empty, I took the scalpel and made a large cut, about three and a half inches, right on the heart muscle. The chief doctor then removed the wires softly to avoid hurting the heart even more, one from one atrium and the other one from a ventricle, it was painstakingly slow. We fixed the heart valves avoiding the use of artificial ones and closed the heart again. In total, she was on the heart-lung machine for a bit more than five hours. Eight units of blood had been used at the time, more would be used later. Now it was time to restart the heart.

They began warming her body up with the water mat, we suctioned the ice cold water around the heart and began rerouting the blood back to the heart. Hopefully the heart would start pumping by itself when the warm blood went in, but that was not the case. I began massaging the heart for a bit, giving it time to warm up. It seemed like that wasn’t enough so we injected atropine directly into the heart muscle and it began to quiver, but was unable to pick up the pace as it was supposed to. It shook like gelatin, but didn’t pump blood. The chief doctor placed the paddles on both sides of the heart and said “clear!”, 30 joules made it stand still for a couple of seconds and then, beating erratically, it didn’t work. We had to shock her again. Once more the chief doctor placed the paddles around the heart, hugging it, pressing it a bit tighter and pushed the button. Her whole body shook, I could see her breasts trembling under the sterile sheets and after a couple of seconds, the heart started beating regularly. “Ok, we got sinus rhythm, let´s close her up”, said my boss. So I took care of that part by myself, while he went to the doctors’ lounge. I closed the pleural sack and used a metal grid to hold the sternum back together. Then I closed her chest, making an effort to have her breasts properly aligned. I touched them with my gloved hands several times to make sure they were in the right place, trying to hide the fact that I enjoyed this part very much. This woman, with those large breasts and nipples, might become self-aware of the scars she now has on her chest and feel uncomfortable, but to me, seeing her, with the perfect stitches I just made, the attention to detail placed in the sutures of both the scar on her sternum and on the right side of her chest, in the subclavian area, were her pacemaker used to be, she is hot and beautiful. There are three drainage tubes coming out of the lower part of her chest and a wire coming out of the middle, which leads to a needle placed into her heart that connects her to an external pacemaker. I find this image fascinating and otherworldly. A woman, asleep, with wires on her chest, tubes coming out, like in a sci-fi movie, and the ventilator working. I feel pleased…..and aroused.

We tried to have the patient breathing by herself by the time she left the OR, but she couldn’t, so we transported her to the ICU while ventilating her. I later found out she was eventually able to breath by herself after four days. But for the moment, I have her settled and sedated in her ICU bed. My work here is done. I touched her hand and said goodbye.

It is late at night, the whole surgery took almost seven hours, I need to rest.  

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 19

The Darkling x Reader

You were fast asleep in the safety of your chambers, tucked into the comforting sheets and their warmth as the contrasting winter air blazed outside. You could hear a faint shuffle outside your door, guessing it was the rotation of guards you ignored it and turned in the bed, facing away from the door but stopped short when the door opened. You shot up, squinting in the dark to see who'd just entered your chambers in the dead of night. Talk about being vulnerable. The figure moved from the door and shut it but you heard the faint sound of the lock as it turned. Your heart started hammering in its chest as you felt your shadows coil around you.

'Did I wake you?' His voice was smooth and full, and through the darkness you managed to make out his glistening kefta. Your shoulders sagged in relief as you lay back down, shadows dropping and retreating.

'More like 'Did I scare you?' You relaxed back onto your side, eager to return to your slumber. 'I'm going back to sleep' you mumbled, the sound muffled by the sheets half covering your face.

You heard him taking off his outer layers then the thud of his boots as he disposed of them and walked towards the bed. His hands were absolutely freezing cold as he reached for your waist and pulled you into him

'You're so cold' You whined but he merely chuckled and pulled you closer. With a gentle kiss to your temple, Aleksander quickly dozed off right after you, enjoying a good night's sleep with you cradled in his arms.

*****

You woke and he was gone, the only sign left of him being the rumbled cushion and gloves on the nightstand. You stretched dramatically and dressed quickly, ringing for two breakfast trays to be brought to the General's war room. You carried stacks of documents in your hands, most of them boring and pointless, as you walked the short distance to his quarters.

'Good Morning' He was standing with Ivan next to the round table with his arms crossed, studying the Shu border with furrowed brows but relaxed them once he heard you enter. You dropped the papers on his desk with a sweet forced smile 'I come bearing gifts. Oh and breakfast.' Aleksander looked amused and sighed

'That's all Ivan, thank you.' Ivan only acknowledged you with a nod before leaving the room as instructed by his Commander.

'Thank you so much dear for leaving me with all your paperwork.' You slapped your hand against the messy pile 'I don't even know what half of it is'

'You'll learn in time I'm sure'

'If you think you're going to do that again you are sorely mistaken. It is possible to read whilst sitting in a carriage is it not?' As he went to reply, a servant wheeled in a table of breakfast trays and your stomach rumbled at the sight. You thanked them and uncovered your plates, mouth-watering at the sight of fresh fruit and pastries.

'You'd be sad to know there's no herring' You pretended to gag and his laugh echoed along the walls. What a pleasant sound.

'I think I'll manage' He sat down next to you and spooned extra sugar into his porridge. For a moment you ate in comfortable silence, enjoying your food.

'Why were you back so late last night?'

'I wanted to avoid the fleet of performers arriving for the fete. There's already a long line of them at the gates.' You hummed as you bit into the flaky pastry.

'What color are you wearing to it?'

'What do you mean?' You eyed him curiously as he lay down his teacup.

'What color kefta are you wearing to the fete?'

'I haven't thought about it yet. I have so many lavish ones I doubted I needed to have any more made' You chuckled 'Why do you ask?'

'I requested that Alina wear black'

Oh.

'And will she? I know she refused the first time.'

'I had Genya make sure of it'

'Oh I get it, is this your way of politely telling me to not wear black?' Your voice contained no anger or resentment. You had agreed to his plans and it would be petty of you to be upset now.

'No, you can wear it if you wish. It's always been my favorite color on you. I'm just letting you know' You took the napkin and dabbed at your mouth.

'Well the fete is tomorrow, I should decide quick.' You rose from your seat and took the mug of tea with you.

He was out of his seat by the time you fully stood and wrapped his strong hands around your waist, keeping you close to him.

'Don't be jealous, at the end of the day I come to you, not her.'

'I'm not jealous Your eyes whipped to his.

'No?'

'No.' You forced the sternness into your voice, solidifying the word but it only sent a smirk to his face. 'What are you smirking at?'

'I missed you' He crashed his lips to yours in brute force, knocking the air out of you. He was eager and greedy, wanting you to himself. You let yourself indulge, holding his face in one hand while the other still held the mug of hot tea.

'I have to go Aleksander.' You pulled away and he pouted, like actually pouted. He looked like a big baby who'd just been denied dessert and it ingrained in your mind. The adorableness filling your heart full for the rest of the workday.

*****

'Saints can I ever catch a break.' You groaned with your head in your hands.

You wanted to run and escape to wherever was quiet and peaceful, where you would be left alone for at least 2. fucking. minutes but no, the people of Os Alta and its performers were ready to watch you rip out your hair from frustration. The Queen's messengers were drilling a hole through your head and your Grisha demonstrators were throwing a huff about their limitations 'Don't light anyone on fire' was simple and reasonable, so why were the Inferni fussing about it?

'Saint's whats wrong with you'

'Zoya I don't have time for this right now.' If Grisha never got sick, then why was there a headache forming in my head?

'Just here to pass along a message-'

'-who isn't' you scoffed

'-let me finish, it's about Alina's double for the dinne-'

'Let the General deal with that. I'm at my wits end here.'

'But I don't want to tell him, hence why I came to you.' She sat down on the chair next to you and huffed.

'Put on your big girl breeches Zoya. I'm really not in the mood.'

'Must you always be so rude?'

'Oh my Saint's you're one to speak'

'But I'm never nice so there's the difference.'

'Are you still here just to berate me?'

'Is there something you want me to do?' Although she was rude, Zoya showed her kindness in other forms.

'Can you speak with the head of Palace guards and go over security breach protocols? I don't want to risk anything with so many foreign dignitaries in the building'

'I would love nothing more.' She sarcastically said and left you alone. It wasn't long before you accidentally dozed off in the midst of all the chaos.

------

Part 20

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!) @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb

[divinefireangel]

Hello! May I request a SF9 reaction? Snuggling in bed in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm. How would the boys react to op being a bit anxious because of the thunder?Thank you!

I just UwU'd so hard 🥺 Also I tried writing mini stories for each member in this one. I'll probably do a few as bullet points and few like this, depending on my mood.

Not me being conflicted between studying and writing reactions 💀💀

Warnings: Descriptions of thunderstorms. SF9 worried about s/o. Why is this a warning💀. Sorry they are short 🥺👉🏽👈🏽. Also not @ hwi for leaking his nudes (not really 💀) while I was writing his part lmao.

Youngbin:

A loud roar heard from outside your window jolted you up from your slumber. Looking out the window with wide eyes, you saw bright flashes soaring through the blacked out street. Knowing exactly what was coming next, you turned your body to face Youngbin's. Surprisingly, he was awake, looking at you with shaky eyes.

"Are you okay? You were shaking in your sleep so I was trying to wake you up. "

"I- I guess? I'm just a bit scared of thund-AH" you shrieked moving your forward into Youngbin's embrace as soon as you heard another loud bang from the clouds.

Reacting just as fast, he wrapped his arms around you. One arm around your torso below you and the other circling your head in attempts to cover your ears, shielding you from the sound as much as he could.

"You're okay. I'm here. You're here, safe in my arms. I'll protect you now. Go back to sleep jagi." He says softly, rubbing your temple with his thumb, easing you to sleep once again.

Inseong:

Hearing the windows rattle, you woke up from your sleep, wondering what was making a sound. Sitting up on your elbows, you noticed the light in the bathroom on, and your boyfriend not next to you.

Everything would've been fine, if it weren't for the low rumble the made the bed vibrate. Clutching the covers tightly, you gulp feeling your heart thump in your chest. Slowly you try to cover your ears with your pillow.

Screaming in fear when you felt a hand grab yours, you throw the pillow in the direction of this mysterious touch.

"Baby what are you doing?!!" Inseong yelped catching your pillow, looking at you with wide eyes.

"I- That- Ow-" you tried answering his question, but failed to as your head started aching from moving so suddenly.

"What's wrong baby? Is your head aching?" He asks climbing into the bed and coming close to you, hand reaching for your head.

Nodding yes, you screw your eyes shut. Feeling him move around and then pull you into his side, Inseong took ahold of your hand, intertwining your fingers together and kissing the back of your palm. "Go to sleep now. I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you."

Jaeyoon:

Feeling the covers being pulled off his body, Jaeyoon groans lightly. Reluctantly he opens his eyes and looks at you, but he immediately sits up when he sees your figure thrashing in fear.

When you stop moving, he hears low whimpers coming from the bundle beneath him. Carefully he moves the blanket a bit, just enough to uncover your face. The sight in front of him breaks his heart. Curled up in a ball, eyes shut tight, you were trying your best to warm yourself up as a distraction to the commotion in the sky.

Lifting the blanket over his body, he lays his weight on top of yours adding additional warmth to your shivering self. Kissing your cheek, he rubs your thigh comfortingly. "Jagi, cuddle into me."

And so you did. Turning on your side, you hid your face in his muscular chest, scared whines leaving your mouth when you heard a quiet thunder. Wrapping you safely in the thick blanket, Jaeyoon cradles your head near his heart, making your listen to his steady heartbeat.

"You'll be okay, jagi. I got you." Hearing your soft sniffles, Jaeyoon wraps his arms around you tighter, kissing your forehead repeatedly until you both fell asleep again.

Dawon:

You were both sitting in front of the couch on the ground, some boring movie playing on the TV but all your attention was on him. Sitting in his lap, you run your hands through his lush locks as you lips lock again and again in a hot messy make out.

His hands are roaming everywhere, pulling you close even though your chests are already touching. Hot breaths exchanging with soft moans that slip out from both of you when you grind down on him. His lips find solace on your neck, making you roll you head back. There is nothing more perfect than a steamy midnight make-out.

And in just a moment, everything went silent, the lights went out. Even more perfect right? It would've been if you hadn't seen that oh so familiar bright light from the window. It would've been if you hadn't frozen on spot, making Sanghyuk stop all his actions. It would've been if you didn't know what was coming next.

"Why? What's wrong? Did I do something I shouldn't have?" He questions hurriedly, worried he did something to offend you. Nodding your head no you look at him with scared eyes, hand pointing to the window and a tempting rumble was heard as soon as you did.

An expression of realization takes over his handsome face. Grasping your cheeks in both his hands, he pulls you in for a sweet kiss. "Let's cuddle in bed so I can hide you from the thunder better? Does that sound okay?" He asks oh so sweetly. Nodding in agreement you just melt into him, clutching him for dear life as he gets up with you in his strong arms and walks to the bedroom.

Laying on the bed slowly, he pulls the covers over both your joined bodies, hiding you from the thunderstorm as promised.

(TwT)

Rowoon:

It was close to 1am when you got up to use the washroom. Heavy raindrops hitting the windows, creating a mellow sound along with the fan rotating on the ceiling. Noticing the absence of your warmth in his arms, Seokwoo stirs awake. Squinting his eyes he sees the bathroom light on and nods to himself realizing that you're there.

"Jagi come fast" he whines sleepily. What an annoying lover, can't even sleep without you. Smiling softly you finish your business. Flushing you freeze in your spot.

A bright light streak illuminated the sky above you, naturally followed by a loud clack of thunder that made the window panes vibrate. Screaming you fall on the ground, knees coming to your chest as you hide your head behind your arms in attempt to shield you from the thunder sounds.

Getting out of bed, and almost falling too, Seokwoo got into immediate action as soon as he saw the lightning too. Running to the bathroom he finds your smaller figure in a ball on the floor, cradling yourself. Approaching you with a worried expression, Seokwoo skeptically wraps his arms around you.

Uncurling you throw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck so he can carry you back. "I'm here baby. I got you." Comfortingly he repeated those words again and again while carrying you safely in his arms. While laying you down on the bed and covering you with blankets.

Getting into bed beside you, he gives you many reassuring kisses while completely engulfing your body with his, cursing the thunder when it gets too loud causing you to shiver in his hold.

Zuho:

Juho was awoken from his sleep when he felt someone rest on his shoulder. Blinking he started to go back to sleep, thinking it was probably one of his cats, that was until he heard a very human whimper. Shooting his eyes open he turns his head as much as he could to find that you were resting on his shoulder.

"Baby? " he calls in his deep voice as he gently raising his other hand to trace your cheek with his thumb. Turning his body towards you, you cuddle further into him. Curling into his body, you let out choked sobs from fear of the angry clouds adorning the night sky.

Resting his head on top of yours, he begins to play with your hair, an action that always made you calm, especially when he did it, cause he knows exactly how you like your hair to be played with. "You should have woken me up. " he says quietly, feeling bad for not waking up sooner to comfort you. Sniffing you hug him tighter, just wanting his love and care at the moment.

Tangling your legs together, he wraps his elbows around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. Pulling the blanket till your neck, Juho kisses your temple. Continuing to stroke your hair and caress your back, he starts to hum a soft lullaby to lure you to sleep. Holding you closer than ever every time he suspects there to be a loud roar from the dark sky above.

Yoo Taeyang:

Giggling at how cutely you were decorating your cookies, Taeyang presses his lips to your cheek softly. What's better than some midnight baking you ask? Midnight baking with your cute sunshine of a boyfriend. Standing next to you, he starts to give the final touches to his cookies.

"You're cute. " he says matter of factly. It was true though. He never thought anyone could be as cute as you. "All done! " you said giggling, proudly showing off your design of a butterfly you struggled to make. Pecking you on your lips, Taeyang smiles proudly, grabbing both your trays to take them to the refrigerator.

You start to clean up the counter, throwing away the dishes that need to be soaked in the sink first, followed by everything else, except for that packet of choco chips. You gasp when you see the pale flash coming from outside the balcony windows. When nothing happens for a few seconds, you breathe out, continuing to work.

Screaming when you heard the first rumble of thunder, you drop the table cloth to cover your ears. Rushing to hold you, Taeyang hides you in his chest, doing his best to cover your ears when the next few rumbles are heard. Cooing to you to calm down quietly, he slowly starts to sway you bodies from your spot in the kitchen.

"I'll always protect you my love. "

Hwiyoung:

"I love late night showers with you." Youngkyun expressed with a smirk as he bashfully eyed you getting into one of his shirts.

"I know you do." Giggling you walk to the bed, jumping on it making him chuckle at your adorable action. Moving around till you're face to face with him, you lean on him as you capture his lips in a much awaited kiss.

Smiling you pull back to admire his gorgeous face. Lifting your right hand to his face, you draw inkless lines over his eyebrows and cheek bones and all over his face, just admiring your perfect man.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he plays with your shirt, well his shirt. Closing his eyes he let's you do what you want to. Lifting your leg across his naked torso, you trap him below you as you attack his face with love filled kisses. Shyly laughing at your lovey dovey energy, Youngkyun wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you completely on top of him as you release a fit of giggles.

Hearing the low thunder from outside, you gasp looking out the window anxiously. "The weather report did tell there was gonna be a thunderstorm all night." Youngkyun says, slowly rubbing the sides of your torso. "Oh" was you were able to reply back with.

Grabbing the blanket, he spreads it over the two you of, distracting you from your window gazing. Snuggling into his neck, you shut your eyes as the thunder grew louder. Kissing your forehead and temple and nose in cycles, youngkyun loves you to deep slumber, making sure to hold you tight every time you flinched unconsciously.

Chani:

It was around 2:45am when the loud banging of your neighbour's window against its frame woke you. Flinching a little every time the sound was audible over the strong winds. Once they finally shut the window, you sighed in content, ready to slip back to get those few more hours of sleep.

Just as you were about to succeed, a mighty boom from the lit cloudy sky completely woke you up. Sleep disappearing from your body, fear slowly creeping in. Breathing multiple small breaths from your nose, you feels tears form in your eyes. Heart is beating faster every passing second.

Curling into a ball, you squeeze your face into the pillow to soften the sound of your sobs. "Y/N? What's going on? Why are you crying? Talk to me!" Chani said desperately, worried something may be hurting you? Cramps? Nightmare?

All his questions were answered when he heard the deep sound of thunder, lightning hitting a far off place. Cooing he gently starts to trace your upper arm, coming close so his chest connects to your back. Leaning his free arm near your head, he pets your hair slowly, thumb going back and forth, moving your hair to ease you a bit.

Kissing your cheek, he rests his head against yours, whispering sweet words into your ear, now beginning to gently rub your thighs too.

[automaticneon]

Clouds

Chapter 1: Automatic Love (NSFT)

Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: “When desires go unfulfilled, they turn into needs”

Clouds is the most technologically advanced dollhouse in Madripoor. It’s a void for people to escape into, or at least the lucky few that can afford to visit. 

And Zemo is very lucky.

The reader meets a strange new client, a man of mystery and poetic language and when she uncovers a secret most valuable to Helmut Zemo, their relationship goes from professional to something much more profound.

A/N: It’s essentially a Cyberpunk AU, but you don’t need to know a thing about the game! I’ve just borrowed the names of locations and the concept of Clouds. The reader is essentially a high clas s*x worker, if that isn’t your cup of tea, this probably isn’t the fic for you!

If this was high-end, there was no way to tell.

At least that’s what Zemo thinks as his car pulls up outside the mega-building. It’s an unsightly structure but not uncommon for this area of Madripoor, about fifty-storey’s tall and covered in vibrant LED screens.

For a minute he considers instructing his driver to take him back to his apartment in high-town so he can pretend this never happened. He had been averse to this idea already, but a friend from his military days had been convinced he should try coming here. “It’s cutting-edge” is what he had been told, but what exactly cutting-edge meant was a mystery to Zemo.

“Would you like me to wait for you, Sir?” the driver asks, snapping Zemo out of his thoughts.

The baron swipes his hand over his face, taking one last look at the building outside the window before responding.

“No, I’ll call when I’m done.”

He reckons his driver knows what he’s doing here. Mega-building H8 was known for only one thing, its position on the layline between high and low town meant it was frequented by all wealthy inhabitants of Madripoor. Mobsters and politicians alike congregated at this monster of architecture, hopeful of its contents and desperate to go unrecognised.

And now they can add a Baron to that list of unfortunates, Zemo thinks with resignation.

He leaves the car before the embarrassment can fester in his chest.

 The building is worse up close than at a distance.

Climbing the flight of concrete stairs Zemo is transported from the sidewalk and into the belly of the beast. The entrance to the megabuilding is a low-ceilinged sprawl of street-vendors and food stalls. It’s loud and busy, but Zemo has no problem blending into the crowd. He weaves through the stream of people, illuminated by neon signs that grow increasingly vulgar in their images the deeper into the building he moves.

Eventually, towards the back of the building, he finds the metal gates of an industrial-style elevator. He slides the grate open and steps inside to find the space is lit by multiple illuminated advertisement screens rotating through various commercials, each more obscene than the last. For a moment Zemo takes the moral high ground, musing with distaste about the sort of men these adverts are geared towards. He takes the moral high ground until he remembers what he has come here to do. Defeatedly he admits to himself he has no right to feel lofty.

The illuminated keypad flashes at him, and he reaches out to input his destination.

 Floor 12 – CLOUDS

 The elevator is slow as it climbs past the levels of cheap apartments and eventually comes to stop at level 12. As Zemo goes to open the grate again, he wonders if he’ll be greeted by some of that high-class sophistication he was promised.

He is not.

This floor is much like the entrance hall, only this time it’s a balcony that wraps around the interior of the mega-building and faces down into an open-air atrium. Zemo notices that the elevator he steps out of does not go any higher than this level, the floors above must be the luxury apartments and must have their own entrance.  He begins to follow the neon signs again.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this?” A man near him says to his friend. Zemo bristles at the strong American accent, but carefully allows himself to eavesdrop.

“I don’t know, man,” The friend responds “It just feels wrong, you know? Like I’ll be cheating on my girl with one of these dolls”

“But that’s just it! These girls are dolls, man. They’re not real. It’s like sleeping with a blow-up-doll. No difference”

“You know that’s not true; the difference is they’re real. They’re made of flesh.”

“That’s what makes them great though. They’re dolls made of flesh.”

Zemo moves on before he can hear anymore.

He follows the signs until he reaches a wide hallway into the building, and there at the end is the rather simple looking entrance to Clouds dollhouse. The low ceiling of the hallway allows for little decoration, but he supposes a place with such an infamous reputation needs little in terms of advertisement. Soft pink neon signs flash the name of the establishment, and beside the double glass doors a glitchy hologram of a woman dances away. As he approaches, a pre-recorded voice rings out from a speaker at the base of the hologram.

“Looks like you could use a little automatic love.”

He refuses to acknowledge the projection.

Inside clouds is arguably worse than outside. The hallway is lined with tattered posters and it smells of something cheap and artificial. When Zemo enters the small, empty reception the lady behind the desk looks up with a smile.

“Welcome to clouds, where we always know what you’re looking for.”

  -

 None of you can hear a thing from the changing room.

“Do you think he’ll fire her?”

“I’m not sure. Depends how angry the client was,”

“Shut up I’m trying to hear,”

The room falls silent as Divine presses her ear to the door.

Moments ago the dressing room had been full of the usual chatter as you and the other dolls prepared for the evening shift. There was nothing to indicate the night would be anything but normal, that was until a few minutes ago when Woodman, the caretaker of dolls, had knocked furiously at the door and demanded that Azure come to his office down the hall for an immediate meeting.

“Is it just Woodman?” you ask. Azure could be abrasive at times, but she was certainly one of you favourite colleagues and you desperately wanted her to avoid being fired by management.

“I think so. I can’t hear anyone else.” Divine says, leaning back from the door.

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure,” one of the other dolls assures the room “She’s been here the longest. If they haven’t fired her yet, I doubt they ever will.”

“True. We can’t let this ruin a good Friday night. Five minutes until we need to be out in the booths, girls” Divine announces, and promptly returns to her table to finish her makeup.

Moments before the timer goes off the dressing room door flies open, and Azure stalks back to her table in silence. She’s not upset, but you can see the frustration hidden behind a poor attempt at offhand indifference. You want to ask if she’s alright, but the aggressive way she’s searching through her desk drawer makes you think it’s better to leave her be. The other girls do the same, cautiously looking over at her but making no attempt at conversation.

When the timer rings out you take one final sip of water and head to the door, grabbing the key-card for booth three as you leave.

 - 

“Welcome to clouds, where we always know what you’re looking for.”

The pink light of the glowing reception desk illuminates her face from below. That, combined with her uncomfortably bright smile makes the receptionist look like some sort of robot from a sci-fi film. Zemo lets out an amused huff at the very ambitious welcome promise.

“With all due respect, how could you know exactly what it is I want.”

“Clouds always knows. Your deepest desire – we find it. You’ll have your needs fulfilled – and maybe much more. ‘Less’ is not a word we use around here.” The receptionist replies.

“And how is that supposed to work then,” Zemo questions with a tilt of his head.

“Our algorithm searches your social media. With your permission it will create a personal profile based on any information if can gather, including personal preferences for you partners appearance. The algorithm will then select a doll for you, and create an experience based off that information.,” She slides a form across the desk “of course we ensure this is entirely confidential, this form confirms our promise.”

“I’ll admit I’m impressed. However I do not have a social media presence I’m afraid.” Zemo responds.

He couldn’t lie, the process seemed interesting. It was obviously a successfully programmed algorithm if the establishment had such a strong reputation. He found himself for the first time tonight not entirely doubting his choice to come here. He was interested to see what they would do for his situation.

“In that case I’ll have to ask you a few general questions to select a doll for you. If you are unsatisfied with their performance, you’ll be entitled to a refund at the end of the session.”

The receptionist begins to read a series of questions from her computer screen, gender preferences, what sort of experience he’s looking for. She concludes with organising payment, and the price is eyewatering even with the slight discount she applies since they cannot use the algorithm. When all is paid and signed for, the receptionist asks for a safe word. Admittedly it throws Zemo for a minute.

“It’s company policy” she says.

“Pontiac” he says bluntly, after a moment of thought.

“Fantastic.” The receptionist enters his response to the computer “Welcome to clouds. Serenity will be waiting for you in booth three.”

Zemo passes through another set of double doors and finds himself in a labyrinth of pink lights. The walls are lined with black, opaque glass and every so often a blue neon number protrudes from the wall indicates the booth behind it.

It doesn’t take long for him to find booth three, but he pauses before pressing the button to open the door. He takes a breath, collects his thoughts and lets his head and shoulders drop. He doesn’t want to look at his reflection in the tinted glass. Five years ago the thought of coming to a place like this would never have touched his mind, even in his questionable youth he had always been opposed these places. The risk that they were run unethically was far too great for his conscience. But he was not the man he was five years ago. Since Sokovia he wondered if he had a conscience at all anymore.

He presses the button, and the glass panel slides open.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the room. It’s dimly lit, faint blue and purple lights shine against the walls that are lined with the same dark, opaque glass as outside. There’s a chic, white sofa against the left wall, and against the right is a simple bed.

Sat atop it, kneeling with her thighs spread and covered by a short black night dress is the prettiest girl he’s seen in years.

 - 

He’s handsome, is the first thing you think when the glass door slides open.

It’s rare that you ever receive a client you’re inclined to call attractive, even the most conventionally attractive men that come here bring with them such a foul soul that it taints their appearance. Not this man, though.

He’s smartly dressed in dark trousers and a well-fitting grey jumper. His hair is styled nicely, it’s either brown or very dark blond (you can’t tell in the coloured lighting). He carries himself well, but after a year of working here you’ve grown accustomed to seeing through the façade’s of your clients. He’s apprehensive. Unsure if he belongs here. Hesitant.

“You must be Helmut. It’s nice to meet you,”

You try to make your voice sound soft and gentle, cocking your head to one side to beckon him in. You get the sense he wants something authentic, or at least that’s what his profile had said when it was sent through from reception moments ago. No porn-star moans or obscene pick-up lines tonight.

He collects himself, and the harsh line his lips have been pressed into relaxes as he enters the room. The glass panel slides shut, trapping the two of you in the bubble of the booth. It’s tranquil. You think he must need that.

“And you must be ‘Serenity’” He responds, crossing the room to sit on the sofa. His eyes don’t leave you as your ‘name’ rolls of his tongue with amusement. You can hear the next question in your head before he even opens his mouth again.

“So what’s your real name?”

They always ask you that. They ask every doll that. The clients are desperate to form a connection with you. To brag to their friends that they have a special relationship with a doll at clouds. You’ve never told anyone your real name before, it’s against company policy. Clouds attracts the rich of Madripoor, and rich in Madripoor usually means dangerous. It’s for your own protection more than anything else, you really don’t need work following you home.

You picked a name the day you were hired and that’s the name every client has known you by. This man will be no different. You begin your usual response:

“A name is a name, Helmut. A title. An advertisement of who you are. I want my name to tell you exactly who I am, so that you can know everything about me. I want to bring you peace.”

He adjusts his hips and rests his arms across the back of the sofa. He regards you quietly, and you’re positive he can tell that your response was a deflection. His eyes squint slightly, and a flash of humour appears in his dark pupils.

“Well I hardly think that’s fair. You get to call me by my name, but I don’t get to know yours?” He lets out a huff of laughter “Actually, I don’t think I’ll let you use my name. We should be equals, should we not?”

You admit you’re enjoying this. The smooth accent and playful tone of his voice keeps you interested. You swing your feet around so that you’re sat facing him on the bed, reclining back on your palms to match his casual stance.

“What should I call you then?”

“You said a name is just a title. So then my title can become my name. You can call be Baron, Serenity” He says your name like it’s some sort of inside joke, taunting you to give up and tell him who you really are. You won’t be so easily swayed.

“So what’s a Baron doing in Madripoor then?” You say with genuine curiosity. If it weren’t for the NDA’s you’re forced to sign you would be buzzing to tell the other girls who you’re spending the night with. You can’t imagine that aristocracy visits this place frequently. “And do you drink?”

“I do, thank you” he says, and you hop down from the bed and walk to the low table in front of the sofa that carries a few glasses and a bottle of expensive-looking alcohol. You know he’s looking at the satin hem of the night dress as it tickles to top of your thighs, and when you bend down to pour him a glass, you make sure he gets a tasteful peak at your cleavage.

“I’m here to work, actually.”

Did aristocrats work? You thought they were just for show.

“I’m… translating some documents. It’s taking me a very long time,” He continues, watching intently as you finish preparing his drink.

“A Baron and a translator? Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate” You loop around the table, perching beside him on the sofa and handing him his drink.

“It’s more of a personal project I suppose, but a very important one” he says, accepting the drink with his free hand. The one that rests behind you on the back of the sofa comes up to rest between your shoulder blades. It’s a very gentle touch, just the tips of his fingers making contact with yours skin and moving in a tiny little circle. He’s testing the waters with you, seeing how receptive you are. It’s almost gentlemanly.

“It must mean a great deal to you. We could talk about it, if you like? We can talk about anything you want to,” You reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying how he melts into the action.

“Anything but your name?” He shoots you teasing look from the corner of his eye, and you give a little strand of his hair a small playful tug in response.

“Anything but that, Baron”

“Tell me something else about you. Like why you came to Madripoor, I can tell you weren’t born here.”

Jesus you can’t tell if this man is a pest or just being polite. It’s unusual for him to be asking these questions of you, most men would usually have you on your knees by now. You hum and give him one last stroke down the back of his neck, before climbing off the sofa and walking back towards the bed.

“Very perceptive. I’m not from Madripoor, no,” you crawl onto the bed, taking your time so that the baron can take a good look at where the night dress rides up over the curve of your ass “but we’ve only just met, and only my friends get to know my life story.”

You settle yourself comfortably at the top of the bed, lying down and propped up on your elbows so you can maintain the measured look he’s giving you.

“Perhaps I should come over there and get to know you better” he says calmly, with the barest hint of a suggestive undertone.

Thank god he’s dropped the topic of your true identity. You can handle sex; you don’t need an interrogation tonight. Slipping into character you drop your voice to a low whisper and cock your eyebrow.

“Perhaps you should”

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile as he accepts your little challenge. In one fluid motion he downs the rest of his drink, places the empty glass back on the table, and rises to walk towards the bed. No, he stalks towards the bed with a natural swagger that admittedly makes your chest squeeze tight.

Within a second he’s onto you, slotting himself between your parted thighs and pressing his lips to yours. Your baron kisses well, is the only thing you’re capable of thinking as he uses his body to push you down into the cushions. One of his hands slides up your body, skimming across your neck before coming to rest below your jaw. He doesn’t squeeze, just gently holds you in place so that he can kiss you how he pleases.

After a moment he tilts your head up slightly, pausing the kiss so he can look down at you. You reckon you look a picture of arousal, pupils blown and cheeks flushes as you catch your breath. Your baron seems to agree; he’s looking at you like the cat that caught the canary, and you shiver when his grip gets just a fraction tighter on your jaw.

“So pretty,” he praises quietly as he dips down to skim his lips over your pulse.

The tender pressure makes you whine and arch up beneath him and he acknowledges you with a hum and a hand on your breast. As he continues his assault on your neck, the free hand on your chest squeezes the flesh softly, finding your nipple beneath the silky fabric and circling it with his thumb.

When it pebbles to his satisfaction he pulls away and you keen at the loss of contact. He tuts, pulling down the straps of your nightgown and peeling it down below your chest, shuffling down slightly so that his face is level with your now exposed torso.

He breathes out against your nipple before latching onto it, with one hand he squeezes your neglected breast and the other slides from its place on your jaw to the base of your neck. Again he doesn’t squeeze, just exerts a level of control that lets you know where he wants you. If you wanted to you could break free, but why would you want that? The way his thumb begins to circle your pulse point has you practically melting into the bed, the thought of telling him to stop can barely manifest in your mind.

You reach down to dig your fingers into the baron’s back, instead only making contact with his expensive-feeling jumper. You huff in disappointment and pull him from where he’s entertaining himself with your tits, meeting his hazy eyes that are riddled with confusion.

“I thought we were trying to get familiar with one another?” you ask, and his eyebrows pinch in confusion “How are we supposed to do that when you’ve got so much between us?”

The baron’s face melts in amusement, and he reluctantly pulls himself away from you to pull the jumper off and start undressing fully. You take a moment to catch your breath, watching him peel away his clothes to reveal his impressive body. He’s slender but impeccably well-toned, his torso is covered by a light dusting of hair that leads your eyes down to the impressive bulge in his underwear.

Tonight should be very entertaining.

Your sit up, reaching out to run your hand down his chest but before you can begin to pull at the waistband of his underwear, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

“I don’t know where you think you were going, but I was quite enjoying myself” he says roguishly. He gathers both of your wrists into one hand and pins you pack against the bed, with both hands restrained you have no choice but to let him bury hid face into your neck again.

This time he uses his free hand to skim along the inside of your thigh, getting high enough that you think he’ll reach the apex between your legs but instead he trails his fingers back down towards your knee again.

You whine in frustration as he continues his cycle of teasing up and down your leg, he ignores you until you tug against his grip on your wrists. He makes a low noise and quickly tightens his hold on you. The sudden movement sends a chill down your spine, and for the first time in a long while, you feel genuinely inclined to beg a man.

“Please-” you breathe out shakily “I want-”

Your voice cuts off suddenly as his hand moves boldly to cup your pussy. You can hear how embarrassingly wet you are as his fingers move through your folds, and he hums happily when he finds your clit with his thumb. Slowly he circles it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you wriggling in his grip.

“This? Is this what you want?” he asks, and his voice has dropped at least another octave.

You shake your head furiously. Right now this is just not enough, you can feel his dick rubbing against your leg and you’re beyond desperate to have him fuck you open with it.

“No?” he says with feigned innocence “What is it that you want then?”

“More” is all you can get out “I want you in me. I’m wet enough, see?”

Your baron seems unconvinced. He circles a finger around your entrance before pushing in, rocking it gently inside you as he tries to decide if he thinks you’re really ready. He continues for a moment more before adding a second finger, now with two fingers stuffed in you and his thumb still working on your clit you’re almost ready to cum. It’s making you desperate, and it doesn’t help at all when he buries his face in your tits again.

Finally he lets your wrists go and immediately your hands grab at whatever part of him they can, eventually you settle with gripping his shoulder and hair as you try desperately to urge him to fuck you. He gets you right to the edge, literal moments away from finishing on his fingers when he pulls them away from you with an obscenely wet noise.

You let out a frustrated, desperate whine as he separates from you. He looks down at you with satisfaction as he takes in your flustered state.

“Stay still, you’ll get what you want” he says, and he reaches for his pants to retrieve a condom. It takes him a minute to pull himself free of his underwear and put the condom on. In your desperate state it feels like an eternity.

He positions himself between your legs, lifting the hem of the nightdress so he can get a good view of your pussy whilst he lines himself up. He pauses before he presses forward, looking up at you for any last-minute hesitation.

You nod your consent instantly, not trusting yourself to get any words out.

When he pushes in you think you might cum from that alone. He’s a perfect size, long enough that you feel as though you could feel him in your belly. When he finally bottoms out you can’t help but squeeze him tight, and he slumps over you, his face tucked into the side of your neck and swears in a language you don’t recognise. He nudges his hips forward as if to get deeper than he already is. The both of you gasp out at the sensation and he repeats it a few times, just the tiniest movements of his hips that causes him to rub against something deep inside you.

He pushes himself up on his forearms so that he can get a good look at you. In turn, you get to see the state of him as well – his eyes are impossibly dark and glazed over with something wildly lustful, his once pristine hair hangs dishevelled over his reddened forehead. Your baron’s lip curls wickedly as he sets a punishing pace, pushing you deeper into the sheets. It feels like he’s trying to fuck you through the bed.

His previous teasing had done a real number on you, and within minutes you’re moments away from cumming. You don’t think you could get much out of your mouth other than pathetic little whimpers right now, instead you reach up and pull the baron down for a deep kiss, one that he melts into fully.

When you do cum it’s fucking incredible. You’d never use a word that strong to describe a client before, but your baron brings with him many firsts for you. You cry out into his mouth as he picks up the pace to ride you through your high, your fingers dig into his shoulder so tightly you wonder if you’ve drawn blood. If you have, he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything it spurs him on as he fucks you to the point of oversensitivity.

He finishes just as you think you can’t handle anymore. His hips stutter momentarily, and tremors run down his spine in waves. The entire time he’s rambling in a foreign tongue against your skin until his pants of exhaustion overtake his ability to speak.

Your baron collapses on top of you but you hardly have the brainpower to care that he’s crushing you. Instead you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, listening to him as he catches his breath against your chest.

You yourself are struggling to even out your breathing, it feels as though you’ve run a marathon and the man on top of you seems thoroughly amused by that.

“Come now,” he says as he smooths a hand up your side “I wasn’t that good.”

You can hardly help the genuine laugh that escapes you.

“Humility doesn’t look good on you baron.”

The man in question huffs out a laugh before peeling himself away from your sweat-slicked body.

“I suppose I should make myself scarce. I imagine you have other, much more interesting clients to see tonight” he says, moving to sit on the side of the bed.

“You can stay and talk if you want, it’s entirely up to you. You paid for this, after all.” You say, secretly hoping he’ll stay for just a minute longer. You don’t intend to entertain anyone else tonight, but part of you is quite intrigued by your newest client.

“Well in that case I have one final question I’d like to ask” he says as he slowly begins to dress himself again.

“Ask away.”

Once his trousers are securely over his hips he pauses to look at you. There’s a soft expression on his face, as if he already knows he’s not going to get the answer he wants.

“What’s your real name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s asked again. Truthfully, it’s not the question itself that’s thrown you, it’s how tempted you are to answer it. His voice is so compelling at the moment that your name nearly springs from your tongue without you noticing.

“Oh baron,” you say quietly “you know I can’t tell you that.”

His lips press together in acceptance, and for a second his eyes leave yours. As he begins to get ready again, he gives his response.

“It was worth a shot.”

[love-and-monsters]

Awaken the Vampire

F vampire X F human, 6285 words

Descend into an ancient tomb and awake the vampire from her slumber.

The damp air of the cave tickled against your skin. You resisted the urge to shiver. The cavern you had squeezed yourself into pressed tight around your body, so that the tiny stalactites and stalagmites brushed against your skin like a whisper. Using the tips of your toes and fingertips, you pushed yourself further into the passageway. It tightened further the more you moved until you couldn’t get a deep breath for the rocks constricting your ribcage. Thank goodness you weren’t claustrophobic. You would have begin panicking a long time ago.

The tunnel opened up abruptly, widening into a massive chamber. With some more wriggling and struggling, you eased yourself out into the chamber. You flopped down to the floor, squirming until your legs were completely free. Once you were free, you straightened up, clicking your headlamp until the focused beam grew wide enough to light up the area.

A smile spread across your face. It probably looked feral in the dim lighting of the cave, but you didn’t care. Two weeks of searching through the tight, dangerous underground spaces, and you had finally managed to find it.

The Reksali Tomb. The cavern smelled damp and mildewy and your shoes squelched as you walked across the room. A thin layer of some lichen-like material covered the walls. Tentatively, you brushed some of it away with a gloved hand. Underneath the slime, gold traces were set into the wall. Stylized images of humans and animals chased each other around the walls, depicting a story complicated enough that you couldn’t quite follow it. But the illustrations truly confirmed it: there was nothing else it could be. The Reksali Tomb.

Your gaze shifted to the center of the room. The floor was covered in slippery lichen just like the walls, turning the objects in the tomb into rounded lumps. But you could guess what the large, rectangular structure in the middle of the room was. Clicking your flashlight back to a more narrowed beam, you approached.

The lichen was thickest over the coffin. Even through your gloves, you could feel how ice-cold the metal coffin was. It almost burned. You shivered as you brushed the plant matter off. It gathered on the ground at your feet, heavy and damp.

Underneath the lichen, the coffin was almost pitch black, as reflective as obsidian, with gold markings embossed on it. There were several stylized images etched into it, along with striking gold lines that you figured made up a long-forgotten language.

It took several minutes to fully uncover the coffin. The entire thing was designed like a giant box, with a lid settled neatly into place, then sealed with some kind of melted metal barrier around the crack. After a few quick strikes with a nearby rock, a small section of the metal barrier crumbled and you were able to pick your way along the border.

The coffin seemed to get hotter the more metal you picked off. By the halfway point, it felt as warm as a living body. By the time you were nearly done, it was almost burning under your hands.

As the last of the metal flaked away under your fingertips, the coffin grew blazingly hot. Even with your hands an inch away from the surface, you could feel your fingers burning. You retreated a few paces. The air around the coffin shimmered with heat.

Slowly, the metal of the coffin began to warp. It softened, like block of chocolate held over flame, and began to twist inward. Thin rivulets of liquid metal dribbled from the box, dripping to the floor in a puddle.

You backed further away as the coffin crumbled in on itself. The metal warped and twisted. After only a few moments, it had melted away to only a few chunks of softened metal in a night-black puddle.

The oppressive heat faded. Cautiously, you approached what remained of the coffin. Where the metal box had once sat, there was a wooden case. It was long and rectangular, big enough to hold a thin person inside. Strange symbols were carved across it, several of them resembling stylized suns or holy symbols.

You tentatively pressed your fingers to it, running them across the wood. It was rough, almost raw. You drew your hand along the largest carved symbol of a sun, toward the top of the coffin, then winced. A large splinter had broken off and lodged itself in your finger. You yanked it out, grimacing as a bright bead of blood welled up and dripped down onto the box below.

The instant the blood touched the wooden surface, there was a faint sizzling noise. The droplet of blood sank into the carved images, dying the wood a deep red. The red spread through the interconnected carvings, dying far more than a single drop of your blood should have been able to. The box began to tremble.

Something scratched at the inside of the box with horrible scraping noise. Again and again, more furiously each time, the scratching sounded. The box thumped and rattled, wobbling on the spot. You took a cautious step back.

The wood of the box squealed as the scratching finally pierced through the top of the box. You felt your back press against the cold stone wall as the lid splintered.

For a moment, there was silence. The lid lay in shreds next to the box. You took a cautious step toward it, then another cautious step. Your light wavered, trembling with the shaking of your body.

And then, slowly, cautiously, a hand clutched at the side of the box. You stopped moving. Your breath stilled in your chest.

The hand was almost human-like, but the fingers were too long and tipped in massive claws, and there was something membranous stretching between them. It adjusted its grip on the box once more, then heaved itself up and out.

The owner of the hand was tall and unnaturally skinny, like she had been stretched on a rack. She wore some sort of tattered, off-white robe that covered most of her body, but it revealed enough to show that she was clearly not human. Her legs were jointed strangely, like she was balancing on her toes. Enormous, curved claws that reminded you of a velociraptor’s clicked against the floor as she moved. When she stretched out her arms, you could see a thin, membrane of skin stretching between her arms and sides. Her ears were long and pointed, twitching and rotating at the slightest noise. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, reflecting the light from your torch. Sharp fangs protruded from her mouth. She pulled her lips back from her teeth, making soft, guttural noises.

You held as still as possible. Your breath kept catching in your chest. The woman didn’t seem to be focusing on you. She swung her head back and forth, examining the room. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air.

Slowly, so terribly slowly, you took a single step backward. Your foot came in contact with a tiny rock. It clattered across the stony ground, smacking a wall before coming to a complete stop.

Her head snapped in your direction. You could see her pupils contract in the glare of your light. For a long moment, you stared at each other. Your heart pounded in your chest, constricting your breathing. Tentatively, the woman shifted her weight forward, like she was about to pounce.

The tense cord between you snapped. Without even a second of thought, you turned and bolted.

You made it a couple of feet before something crashed down on your back, knocking you to the ground. You sprawled, your chin smacking against the ground. The tang of blood filled your mouth as it welled from your cut tongue.

The weight on your back shifted. You could feel claws digging into your shoulders. The woman made a clicking, hissing noise. She snuffled at your shoulders. You froze.

“You freed me.” It took you a moment to register the sounds she was making as words. They had the rasping, rusty quality of a voice not used in many, many years. A faint flicker of relief started in your chest. If she could speak, she was probably intelligent. If she was intelligent, maybe her first instinct wasn’t going to be to rip you to shreds.

Her grip on your shoulders loosened. “Who are you?” she asked. It was hard to tell, thanks to her disused voice, if she was curious or angry.

You had to swallow a few times to lubricate your dry throat. “I- I’m an explorer! An- and archaeologist!” There was silence. You really wished you could see her face. How long had she been in there? Had she even heard of those things. “I- I study ancient cultures! There was supposed to be some sort of tomb here so I was looking for it!”

“Ancient cultures,” the woman repeated. Her voice was starting to become more emotional. You thought she sounded speculative. “How long have I been in this tomb?”

You hurriedly picked through your knowledge of the tomb. “A- a thousand years or so? That’s how long the tomb’s been sealed for.”

The woman leaned back. She was still crouching over you, but her hands were no longer on your shoulders. “A thousand years,” she repeated. You made an effort to shift underneath her, but her skinny frame was a lot heavier than you expected. You couldn’t shove her off.

“You are the one who freed me.” Her hand came down on your shoulder again. There was a bright prickle of sensation as her claws pressed against your skin. You swallowed hard. A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead.

“I- I am,” you said. Was that good? Bad? You had no idea why she’d been sealed away in the first place. Perhaps she’d be grateful. Perhaps she didn’t care, and she would rip your throat out and drink your blood before starting on a campaign to end the world.

“Hm.” The woman made a small, noncommittal noise. Her claws tightened ever so slightly on your shoulder. You tried not to make a single sound, despite the prickling pain. “After a thousand years, one has come and freed me.” It sounded like she was talking more to herself than to you. You decided just not to say anything. Abruptly, she swung off your back and rose to her full height. “Rise.”

On shaking knees, you stood. She was taller than you’d expected. Your head only came up to about her collarbone. Up close, there was something stark and terrifying in her features, yet also terribly attractive. The snarl of her upturned lip and the glow of her narrow, yellow eyes made your heart pound with something other than fear.

One of her hands came out and slid under your chin. She peered into your face, tilting your head one way and another. “A mortal?” she asked. “Not a mage?”

“No,” you said. Your throat bobbed in a quick swallow. “I- I’ve never met a mage before. They’re, uh. Uncommon.” Uncommon was putting it lightly. True magicians were probably ten thousand to one, and that was a liberal estimate.

The woman’s chest rose and fell slowly with her breathing. The only sign that she was even slightly perturbed was the slight twitch of her ear. “I see,” she said. “Interesting.” She flexed her wings, the membrane twitching as she moved. “Very well then. Lead the way.”

You blinked. “Er. I’m sorry?”

The woman gave you an impatient look. “Lead me out. You freed me from the tomb. Now lead me from this cavern.”

You paused. Was that even a good idea? She had probably been sealed away for a reason. Was it safe to lead her out?

As you were pondering, the woman took a step closer and glared down at you. Her yellow eyes flashed. “Go.” It was only one word, but it radiated through your veins and set your bones trembling. Fuck. You felt suddenly very sure that if you refused, she would rip your throat out and start clawing her way up through the roof. It would take longer, but she would manage it.

“Okay. All right. It’s kind of tight. You’re going to have to crawl.” Turning your back on her felt like a bad idea, but, then again, you probably couldn’t stop her if she wanted to attack while you were facing her. Carefully, you pressed yourself back into the tunnel.

After you made it a few feet forward, you were aware of the woman scurrying along after you. Every now and then, you could feel her touch one of your feet or brush up against you from behind.

It took some time of wriggling through small tunnels and walking through larger caverns, but you eventually made it out of the cave. It had passed into night in the time you’d been inside. There was the faintest strip of orange sunlight at the edge of the horizon, but the rest of the sky was dark and glinting with starlight.

The woman scrambled out of the tunnel. She looked around wildly, ears swirling and swiveling. Her gaze lifted to the sky and her body went slack. For the first time, she looked genuinely uncertain.

“What happened to the stars?” Her voice lost, confused.

You looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in a smattering of stars, some bigger than others. Only a thin glimmer of moonlight came from the narrow crescent, allowing even some of the fainter stars to be seen. “Nothing’s happened to them, I think. There might be a couple clouds out, but other than that, it’s a pretty good viewing night.”

The woman pulled her lips back from her teeth and gave an impressive snarl. “This is good viewing? There’s barely any!” She gestured broadly at the sky. “There should be far more of them! What happened?”

Several facts clicked together in your head at once and you sucked in a deep breath. “Oh. Right. There’s a lot more light pollution than there was a thousand years ago, I guess.”

The woman glared at you. “Light pollution?” Her voice indicated that she was right on the edge of her patience.

“It’s hard to explain,” you said. “Oh, hold on- I can show you.”

The cave was set into a hilly landscape, so it only took a few minutes of walking to find an overlook spot. Given that it was night, the town was easy to see, a riot of light against the dark hillside.

The woman was silent for a few moments. “That’s light pollution,” you said, gesturing to it. “There’s so much artificial light, the stars aren’t bright enough to be seen anymore.”

“Artificial light,” the woman repeated. “Like the light in your lamp?”

You removed your helmet from your head and held it out. “Yeah, it’s similar. Those lights are bigger, though.”

The woman took the helmet in her hands, turning it over. “Hm.” She flicked the light on and off a few times. “These are common?”

“Yeah. They’re everywhere. Have been for a while now,” you said.

“A while,” the woman repeated. It took you a moment to catch her drift- a while could mean just about anything to someone who had been locked in a box for a thousand years.

“Uh. Like, a hundred years? At least?” When had light bulbs been invented anyway? You reached into your pocket and fished out your phone.

The woman pounced on you, eyes wide. “What is that?”

“My phone,” you said, then immediately realized that wasn’t going to be enough information. “It’s, uh. Like a device that can give me information and let me contact other people.” The woman stared at you for a moment, then snatched the phone from your fingers. “Hey!” You made a motion to snatch it back, but she dodged you with ease. Her claws clacked against the screen for a few seconds before thrusting it back at you.

“It isn’t working.” She bared her teeth.

“Yeah, you need to use the pads of your fingers. What did you want to know, anyway?”

The woman shuffled closer to you to look over your shoulder. She was close enough that you could smell her. You expected it to be unpleasant, but it was strangely dusty and pleasant, like the sort of smell coming off an old book. “What has happened since I have been sealed away?”

“That’s a thousand years,” you said, trying to keep your voice gentle. “A lot has happened. We might need to, uh. Narrow the range a little.” The woman stared at you blankly. “Uh. Okay. Let’s try this. I have questions about you and you have questions about me. So how about we ask each other questions. One at a time. I ask one and then you answer and ask a question. We’ll go back and forth.”

The woman looked at you for a long moment. One of her ears twitched over and over. “Fine,” she said, drawing herself up. “I will go first.” You shrugged . At least she was playing along.

There was a beat of silence while the woman considered her questions. Finally, she said, “What year is it, precisely? I know it has been around a thousand years, but I would like to know specifics.”

“It’s 2021.” An easy first question. The woman’s face twisted with confusion, but she didn’t say anything else. You pushed forward. “Why were you in that box?”

The woman snorted and shifted her wings with a noise like rustling leather. “The locals and I had a disagreement.” You opened your mouth to press for more details, but she silenced you with a glare. “It is my turn now.” She tilted her head back and sniffed the air. Her nose wrinkled slightly. “What is that smell?”

You sniffed, but the air smelled perfectly normal to you. Slightly damp, because there were storm clouds gathering to the west, but other than that, it smelled fine. “I don’t smell anything.”

The woman gave you an irritated look. “Humans. Your senses are truly pathetic. It is embarrassing that I was sealed away by your kind.”

“Considering that we managed it, I think it’s safe to say we’re good for something,” you said. The woman rolled her eyes and sniffed at the air once more, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“It smells foul,” she said finally. “Like smoke, but far worse.”

“Oh. It’s probably a lot of things, then. Car exhaust, likely, and maybe some other burning stuff. There’s a highway not too far from here, so you might be smelling something from that? And maybe you’re smelling gasoline or something.”

The woman looked confused for a moment before she schooled in her expression. “Hmph. Humans are always doing strange things.”

“What kind of disagreement did you and the locals have?” you asked. The woman gave a little snarl of irritation.

“I fed on them.” She said it as simply as if she were confessing to stealing a few apples or sheets of fabric. “I was hungry and I did not expect them to fight back.” She shuffled her wings. “I killed none of them, but they interpreted me as a threat nonetheless. In secret, they built that box and sealed me in with magic. Until, of course, you came and released me.”

“You fed on them,” you said slowly.

“Their blood.” The woman shrugged. “I am what I believe you refer to as a vampire.”

“Explains how you were able to survive so long in a box,” you muttered. Vampires were able to hibernate for exceedingly long periods of time, though about a thousand years was truly impressive.

“Yes. They were far more interested in sealing me away than killing me. Fortunate for them. Vampires are terribly hard to kill, and if they had not used sealing magic, I would have certainly destroyed them.” The vampire woman gave a sniff. “Perhaps they only intended to seal me away for some time to weaken me and planned on destroying me later, only to be destroyed themselves. I am uncertain. Regardless.” She flexed her wings and gave a sharp-toothed smile. “I survived and they did not.”

Something in her expression made your heart race. It was wild, powerful, and it thrummed something deep in your core. “You did. That is impressive.”

“Impressive indeed,” the woman said. She shook her head. “This questioning game is done. I am now back to myself and back in my home. I need to reestablish my territory.” She flexed her wings, spreading them to full length. “I thank you for your service to me. We shall meet again.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but the woman had already taken off. Her enormous wings spread and she jumped an impressive height. As she started to fall, her wings caught the air. She swooped upward, rapidly turning into a dark spot against the great paleness of the moon.

A prickling uncertainty crept up the back of your neck. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you had maybe unleashed something dangerous.

The next few days were largely uneventful. In fact, they were uneventful enough that you started to doubt that you actually had released some kind of vampire from an ancient tomb. Maybe it had been some weird kind of fever dream?

And then the reports started to come in.

It was mostly about alien attacks. Cow mutilations had always been associated with aliens, and there were mentions of something strange in the attacks, but you didn’t pay it much mind. People were always finding something odd relating to aliens. But then the reports became more frequent and you realized that the strange factor in the attacks was that the cow carcasses would often turn up uneaten, but half-drained of blood.

You tried to ignore it. They were cows, after all. They were going to get eaten anyway. And maybe it was some kind of strange, coincidental animal attack.

When people started to report having their blood taken, then you started to get really concerned.

No one had died, which was something of a relief, but the reports were starting to stack up. All of them had the same basic elements: the person would wake up in the middle of the night to a stinging pain. Often, they felt sluggish and slow, barely able to move. When they managed to touch the painful location, there was a patch of raw skin, as if it had been rasped away by something like sandpaper. Blood dripped freely down onto their bed. Most of the time, they couldn’t move enough to look at the thing that had attacked them, but there had been a few lying in a good enough position to see their window. They were able to see it as a strange creature, like a woman, but also quite a lot like a bat, crawled out of their house and soared away.

The word ‘vampire’ was getting tossed around a lot.

You weren’t sure why you decided to go back to the woods to look for her. There was a strong chance that she would just attack you, and it was also possible that you just wouldn’t be able to find her. But you had to do something.

It was nearly midnight when you arrived in the woods you’d last seen her. You fumbled quickly through the undergrowth, your flashlight bobbing wildly over the foliage.

“Hey!” Your voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of the forest. It was weirdly quiet. Weren’t there usually animals out at night? “Hey! Uh.” Damn, you hadn’t gotten her name. “Look, I want to talk! I freed you from the box, the least you can do is-”

Something behind you snapped loudly. You gave an undignified shriek and tripped over your own feet. A bush crumpled underneath you, sharp branches poking at your back as you collapsed on top of it.

Raking, high-pitched laughter echoed from the same direction of the twig snap. “Humans are delightfully funny,” the woman said. She stepped carefully into the beam of your flashlight. “You are looking for me?”

“Yes.” You scrambled back to your feet, brushing the twigs and leaves off your outfit. “We need to talk.”

The woman looked incredibly amused at that statement. “Do we?” She smiled. It wasn’t quite a pleasant smile, but it wasn’t quite mean either. That was somewhat encouraging. “By all means, speak your mind.”

You took in a deep breath. There was no reason to dance around the topic. “Are you drinking people’s blood?”

She lifted her eyebrows slowly and made a derisive snorting noise. “Yes. Did you think I wasn’t going to?”

You hesitated. “You can’t just grab people and drink their blood.”

“Why not? It’s hardly as though I killed anyone. I am a vampire, after all. I drink blood.”

“You’re going to get yourself sealed away again,” you said. “Or worse, shot. One of these nights, you’ll break into the house of someone who has a gun, and then what’s going to happen to you?”

The woman lifted her eyebrows higher, though this time she looked a little amused. “Then you have come here to warn me? For my own safety?” She drifted closer to you. Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “How very touching.”

You didn’t back away. “I released you. That means I have some responsibility for both what you do, and for you. If you get shot or if someone gets really hurt while you’re hunting, that’s going to be on my hands too.”

The woman stepped even closer to you. She was taller than you, and so close that a few strands of her hair, blowing gently in the breeze, tickled the side of your face. “So, you are taking responsibility for me, are you? Are you volunteering to feed me, then?”

Her question sent a sharp spike of fear through your chest, but you looked levelly back at her. “Yes.”

The surprise on her face was satisfying. She went blank and wide-eyed with shock for a moment before her expression was schooled back into its usual aloof state. “Truly,” she said. A faint hint of amusement curled around her words. “Well. I am hungry now.”

She was expecting you to back down. You could see it in her face. She thought you were going to turn tail and run. You squared your shoulders. “Then I am at your disposal.”

The woman stared at you for a long moment. The only sound was the soft breeze rustling through the trees. Then her face split into a sharp-toothed smile. “Very well, then. Hold still.”

There was a slight trembling in your knees as the woman stepped forward and put her hands on your shoulders. “Hold still,” she said. Her voice vibrated through your body, making the shivering worse. “This will only hurt for a moment.”

She bent her head down to your neck. For a moment, you felt her soft breath against your skin. Her lips were right there, testing for the right spot.

And then she rasped her tongue and teeth against your neck and there was a flash of bright-sharp pain. It didn’t feel like the pinch of a needle prick. It felt like sandpaper, like sandpaper made of glass, rasping against your skin over and over until blood welled and dripped down your neck.

As she continued drinking, the pain started to change. The area she was drinking from tingled with sensitivity. Her tongue rasped over it again and again, sending you shivering every time she touched it. It was oddly pleasurable. The nuzzle of her nose against her neck as she pressed her head closer was almost sensual. You were practically leaning into her rasping tongue, her lips as she kissed blood away from the wound.

All too suddenly, she was pulling away. Her long tongue slipped out of her mouth, smearing away the blood. There was still some red clinging to her lips, like a bright splash of lipstick.

“Hm. Interesting.” Her voice sounded richer in your ears, all of a sudden. “I really did think you would run.”

“I don’t back down,” you said. Your voice wavered a little. “I said I would take responsibility and I will.”

The woman laughed. “What an interesting little human you are,” she said. “You would truly offer yourself to me? You want to be responsible for me?”

Your head was a little fuzzy, but you focused on her and nodded. “Yes. I want that.”

The woman smiled, all sharp teeth again. Her ears twitched in the slight breeze. “Very well. I certainly won’t deny you your desires.”

With that enigmatic statement, she pulled away from you, her wings stretching out to their full length. Before you could say anything, she lunged into the treetops. There was a momentary rustling and then she was gone.

Tentatively, you lifted your fingertips to your neck. The spot she’d drunken from was tender and smeared with dried blood, but your fingers came away clean. Huh. Had she healed it on purpose or had all her other bite victims healed so quickly? Either way, you were grateful that you didn’t have to meander through the forest dripping blood all over everything. After taking a moment to collect yourself, you walked back to your car.

Your apartment was still and silent, almost creepy, when you returned home. Still, you didn’t take too long to consider the atmosphere. You were bone-tired. After changing your shirt, which was stained with blood, and washing off the dried blood on your neck, you went face first into bed.

You woke to bright sunlight streaming in through your window. Your mouth was dry as a desert and tasted weird. Groaning, you shoved yourself out of bed and shuffled down to the kitchen. Your eyes were barely adjusted to the dim lighting of your apartment, so you located a glass and filled it with water mostly through muscle memory.

Wait. Why was your apartment dim? You had windows, and the sun was clearly up. It shouldn’t have been that dark. Slowly, you turned away from the sink to peer into your living room.

There was no dividing wall between your kitchen and the living room, which meant could very clearly see the extent of what had happened. The room was dim because your windows had been completely blocked out. Someone had hung blankets over the windows, blotting out any sunlight. From what you could see, the blankets were secured on all sides, making sure that not even a single ray of sun could invade the room.

It wasn’t much of a mystery who would have done something like that, because the culprit was hanging upside down in the middle of your living room.

You couldn’t make out any of her features, given that she was wrapped like a cocooned caterpillar. Thin, leathery sheets covered her body, giving her the exact appearance of a hanging bat. Still, it wasn’t terribly hard to make out who it was. How many other bat people did you know? “Hey!” Your irritation temporarily overcame any wariness you might have had. “What are you doing here?”

The hanging bundle shifted and twitched. In a smooth motion, she unfurled her wings. At their full length, they brushed the walls on either side of her. She looked distinctly unhappy with being roused. “You spoke boldly of taking on responsibility for me,” she said. “Have you already grown unhappy with our arrangement?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “I didn’t say I was going to let you live with me!”

The woman shrugged, her wings rippling with the motion. “It is common for acolytes to allow their patron a place to rest. I assumed you understood what you were offering.”

You tried to sort through your conversation. Well, you had offered to take on responsibility for her. You could see where she’d gotten the idea. “I wasn’t really intending to get a roommate out of this,” you said, more to yourself than anything.

There was a thump and the rustling of leathery wings as the woman removed herself from your ceiling. She was taller than you, and you had to crane your neck back to look up into her face.

“Fear not,” she said. She was smiling, showing off her sharp teeth. “I do not leave those devoted to me with no recompense. Your service shall be rewarded.”

“Uh, huh,” you said. There was something lascivious in her voice. “Uh. Well. I mean, I suppose if you have nowhere else to go, you can stay. But try not to draw any vampire hunters back here, all right? I can’t fight them off for you.”

It had been sort of a joke, and the woman smiled at it. “I shall endeavor not to harm my acolyte,” she said. You weren’t sure you liked that new nickname, but it wasn’t worth arguing. Grumbling, you marched back to your room and promptly collapsed on your bed. You had been through entirely too much for one day.

And that was how you ended up with a vampire for a roommate.

All in all, it could have been far worse. She was mostly dormant during the day, only going out once the sun had set. Mostly, you just had to avoid her when she hung upside-down from the ceiling of your living room.

It was a couple weeks after she had moved in that you noticed the strangeness. It was all small things at first, an unusual raise in your paycheck, then people casually stopping you and offering volunteer work for little odd jobs you needed done. Your shower broke and less than a day later, you had someone offering to fix it for free.

You didn’t give it much mind. It was strange, but not concerning. Maybe you were just having an unusual string of good luck. That is, until you realized that your string of good luck had started right when you’d started living with a vampire.

It was a routine, by that point, to sit in the kitchen and eat dinner as she woke up, so you basically set an ambush. When she started flexing her wings and shifting around, you pounced.

“Hey.” You’d spent several hours trying to come up with some good way to ask her your question, but hadn’t been able to come up with anything better than, “Are you doing something to the town?”

She yawned and gave you an irritated, upside-down look. “Could you be more specific?”

“Weird things have been happening lately,” you said. “People are being, like, weirdly nice to me.”

She snickered. “You are so disliked by the town’s residents that you assume their taking a liking to you is my doing?”

When she put it like that, it sounded like paranoia talking. But you did feel like it was strange. You stood your ground. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Her expression grew slightly more serious. “I do.” Slowly, she descended from the ceiling so she could stand over you. “Vampires extend a range of psychic influence over the minds around them. It is subtle, but present. It makes people more malleable, more trusting of me, and of those associated with me. As my acolyte, you will find people much more trusting and desirous of helping you.”

You stared at her. “You’re messing with their minds?”

She shrugged. “Unintentionally. It is not something I actively control. It is a passive action.”

You drew back from her. “Are you messing with my mind?”

Your obvious discomfort shifted something in her expression. Her lips tightened and, for a moment, you though that she looked actually upset that you were afraid. “No. You awoke me. You have been inoculated to the effects of my mind. All your actions are entirely their own. So are theirs, incidentally. It is not mind control. They merely feel more comfortable around me, and around you.”

“Huh.” The moral implications were troubling, but it at least didn’t seem like it was dangerous. “I suppose if you’re not directly mind controlling anyone, it’s okay.”

“Your moral flexibility is impressive,” she said. She flexed her wings. “Shall I take my leave now?”

“Where do you go every night?” you asked. “You’re not feeding on people anymore, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I keep my bargains, little human. No. I secure our territory.”

“Our territory?” you repeated.

“All vampires maintain a patch of territory. As my acolyte, or, more accurately, my partner, you have a claim to the territory. I will drive off other vampires from this land while you keep me sated. It is a fair trade, no?”

“I suppose,” you said. “You said I’m your partner?”

“It is common for this partnership to take place between a vampire and a human who are in a romantic relationship.” Were you imagining the sudden anxiety in her posture? “I did not wish to tell you sooner lest you become uncomfortable with our arrangement. But-”

Your kiss was completely on impulse. Her sharp teeth prickled against your lower lip as she stiffened, then relaxed into it. You broke apart to breathe and she smiled, all cockiness and bravado. “I was correct to choose you, my brave little human.”

“I think I’m the one who woke you up,” you said. The vampire shrugged.

“Perhaps I allowed you to find me.” She stepped back as you moved in for another kiss, a teasing smile on her mouth. “Come. We will secure our territory.” She turned, allowing you to clamber onto her back. “And then we can have some fun.”

[innerfenders]

New Toyota Fenders And Latest Fenders & Components - Auto Parts

What are Car Fenders?

Whether you've been driving for a short while or have been doing it for years, you've definitely heard someone mention a car's fender at some point in your life. Or maybe you were involved in a "fender-bender." But what precisely is this auto component? To provide you with the solution, we conducted the necessary research.

A fender serves a rather straightforward role. Its function is to prevent the tires from hurling mud, boulders, and other roadside detritus into the air. To put it another way, the fender serves as a container for the wheels to keep road debris within. If the wheels were uncovered, the rotating tyres would kick up a variety of debris.

Toyota Fenders would be the best fenders for your vehicle, as Toyota is one such company that strives perfect something before the product is expanded, as they believe in - “add as you go” rather than “do it once and stop.”

How do you replace a fender?

Maybe you were involved in a collision that required you to replace the fender of your automobile. Modern automobiles' fenders have merged more with the body, but don't panic; they can still be changed, just like the majority of other parts of an automobile.

Here, we'll give you a quick rundown of the fender replacement procedure. Remember that the procedure could change slightly depending on the car.

Take off the fasteners holding the fender to the bumper (these might be screws, clips, or something similar).

To get the bumper out of the way, slightly lower it.

Take off any fixtures, like the lights, that may be installed close to the fender.

Take the fender off.

To install the replacement fender, use the opposite procedure.

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[doomed-corruption-au]

CHAPTER 1: The Return

Steven’s whole world was spinning.

The sky had run green, the lighting reflected off of the massive ship in the sky. It looked like the upper torso of a person, but why it was green was a mystery. The ship itself looked white, actually. But, when it showed up, the gems freaked out anyway.

Lapis had sent them a message. In it, she was really freaked out, bringing the premonition that the Diamonds were leaving the planet and heading to Earth. Steven didn’t know who they were, but the gems had really... changed over the past two days or so they had to prepare. Whoever these “Diamonds” were, they sounded important.

When he saw the gems with his luggage, ready to help him evacuate with Dad, that was when he knew that things were serious. They had finally started letting him come on missions. He was becoming useful, and that meant being out on the field! But, if they thought he couldn’t handle this, then...

He shook his head. No. He was able to do this. He had to help them, protect them. Just like Mom.

Dad had told him that story in the car, about the gem war. The fact that they saved the world, but the punishment for it was, well, the corrupted gems. “If it wasn’t for her shield, man, I don’t know.” Those words bounced around in Steven’s head. Mom was the only reason Garnet and Pearl were okay. She saved them. And now, she wasn’t here. She was gone, and it was now his duty to save them.

He’d left a message to Connie letting her know what was going on. He hoped she stayed safe, too.

Lion opened a warp, and the two leaped in.

It only took a moment to warp to the beach house again. Lion landed hand on his paws, skidding a bit as he slowed. Steven leaped off his back as fast as he could, giving the furry animal a pat on the shoulder.

“Stay here, Lion,” he commanded his friend. “If something happens, Dad’ll need a new son.”

Lion chuffed at him as he turned and ran away. Steven hoped that was an “okay.” Dad had told him that if something happened, he’d “run fresh outta family.” Well, he and Lion got along well, so the replacement seemed good!

Not the time. Steven shook his head. Nothing was going to happen. He had Mom’s shield! He could do this!

The scene was tense. Amethyst and Pearl had fused into Opal, who now had her bow at the ready. Garnet stood nearby, adjusting her glasses every couple of seconds. Then, at Garnet’s command, Opal’s arrow let loose, shooting into the sky towards the ship. There was a flash of light as impact happened, and a few seconds later, a loud boom followed, but the ship looked completely unharmed.

“Hey guys!” Steven ran up to them, waving. If they were struggling, he could help them! Should be easy!

Opal and Garnet spun around, and at the sight of him, the former split apart. Pearl and Amethyst tumbled away from each other.

“You came back!” Amethyst cried in delight.

“What are you doing?!” Pearl’s expression was far more stricken.

Steven opened his mouth to answer, but a bright flash of light in the sky cut him off. The Crystal Gems all whipped around to look at the ship. It was still super far away, and the brightness was making it incredibly difficult to see. It looked like the light was starting at the chest of the ship, getting brighter and brighter.

“What is that?” Steven cocked his head to the side.

Garnet gasped. She turned around, ripping her visor off. “STEVEN! RUN!”

“Wha- WHY?” Steven yelled back. “I wanna help you guys! I have Mom’s-”

“You don’t understand!” Garnet’s head whipped back around to face the flash, which was growing in intensity. “Steven, don’t argue, just GO!”

“No!” Steven ran towards her, towards the oddly beautiful light. You could no longer see the ship behind it. He ran in front of the gems, standing defensively. “I have Mom’s shield! I can DO this!”

He concentrated. His gem didn’t feel any different, no warmth coming from it like what usually happened when his powers began to work. It was silent.

The light grew brighter, starting to pulse a bit. Flashes of yellow and blue traced the edges of the glow, rotating around like a hurricane.

“STEVEN!” Garnet jumped in front of him, meeting his two eyes with her three. She looked panicked, far more so than he’d ever seen her before. “Steven, PLEASE!”

Pearl and Amethyst ran up behind him. “We all have to get out of here!” Pearl yelled. “Garnet, it looks like-”

A loud whirring noise cut her off. Everyone turned to the light, assuming defensive positions. Steven’s eyes widened. It was suddenly coming closer, and FAST.

Please work, he begged with himself. He strained, standing up taller, trying to focus on getting his gem to work. He didn’t know what this attack was, or what it would do, but he didn’t wanna find out. Please work, please work, please work, please work.

“It’s too late to run,” Pearl murmured from his left. “We’re out of time.”

Suddenly, Steven felt hands around his torso. Garnet lifted him into the air, spinning around and crouching down so she was facing away from the beam, with her back exposed.

“Wait, Garnet! I can do it!” Steven struggled in her arms. “I can do it!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back, hushed. Steven almost didn’t hear her. He stopped trying to get away, instead trying to turn to look at her. Her three eyes were blown wide, tears starting to come down her cheek. “We failed.”

“Wh-”

Everything went bright.

Garnet vanished from behind Steven, seemingly into thin air. The only thing that marked her disappearance was a short scream, cut off prematurely. Pearl and Amethyst were the same, yelling out in shock and pain for only a second before their voices cut out completely.

With Garnet out of the way, Steven could see why. It BURNED. The light closed around him so brightly, he almost couldn’t see his own hands. It wrapped around him, closing in on his gem. It began to flare up in response, sending fire up his nerves. He was so focused on how much it hurt, that his own voice disappeared around him.

It lasted probably only a few seconds, but it was enough. His gem felt like it was an ignited coal, he had a massive headache, and his body was trembling too much for him to even think about moving anywhere.

He fell on his hands and knees, then collapsed onto his side. His world went from burning white to pitch black in an instant. He heard nothing, not even the waves hitting the shore. His head hurt, so badly, but after a moment, everything... stopped.

- - - - - -

“Hey Connie, it’s Steven.”

Connie Sat on the edge of the counter, nervously watching for her mom to round the corner. If she got caught, she’d probably get yelled at. Her attention was more focused on the recording of her best friend’s voice, though.

“Just seeing what you were up to,” he continued. “Uh, dunno if you knew, but there’s some crazy stuff going on with a giant woman in the sky and we all might die, so um, I guess just give me a call back when you get this, and see you soon!”

What.

Connie leaped off the counter and reached for the phone as fast as she could. She dialed his number, forcing herself to slow down so she didn’t mistype it, and held her breath as his phone rang.

One ring, no answer. Then two. Then three. After the sixth, the call went to voicemail.

Connie shook her head. “No no no,” she said out loud. “No, that can’t be right. H-he’s gotta be exaggerating, right?”

“Who are you talking to, Connie?” Dr. Maheswaran was standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrow raised in confusion.

She was very tempted to playback the recording Steven had left for her, but she knew if her mom heard it, she’d stop letting her see Steven altogether. So instead, she swallowed. “Steven,” she replied.

Dr. Maheswaran hummed. “Alright. Is... something going on? You sounded stressed out for a second.”

Shoot! Connie hesitated, wondering what she should do. “Um,” she started shakily, “...yeah. He wants me to go over there so I can help him out. Is, is that okay?”

Mom sighed, her dislike of the boy no secret, but after a moment of thought, she nodded. “Okay. Do you want us to drive you there, or are you going to take a bus?”

“I’ll take the bus,” she answered a little too quickly. “Thank you though!”

Before her mom could get in another word, Connie had slipped into her red boots and vanished out the door, bus card in hand.

The ride itself was an excruciatingly long twenty minutes, but for different reasons that usual. On the way, she pulled out her flip phone and tried again.

Six rings, then voicemail.

She tried two more times; the same results.

When they FINALLY pulled up in Beach City, Connie was the first off of the bus. She ran as fast as she could, hoping to the sun and back that Steven was okay. He had to be. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

The bus dropped her off near the center of town- not the best, but it wasn’t too far away from Steven’s house. Heat be damned, she was not stopping until he was embraced in a hug.

When she rounded the corner of the cliff, she froze, the previous vow undermined immediately.

The sand was stirred up, the water coming further up the beach than normal. It coated the bottom of the house, hiding the bushes beneath waves of yellow. The water splashed violently as well, as if tremoring from an earthquake. The Temple looked mostly unharmed at first, but upon further inspection, the statue of Obsidian looked far more rounded than it should. Far more smooth, like it’d been polished or sandpaper-ed (there had to be a word for that).

Connie saw none of it.

Her eyes were drawn to the little lump on the ground. The lump was half covered in sand, but she would recognize that brown hair anywhere, even if his red shirt was a lighter pink for some reason. Steven was lying on his side, facing away from her. He wasn’t moving.

“STEVEN!” Connie burst into a sprint, nearly tripping over her own feet as she ran up to her friend. She fell on her knees next to him, rapidly swiping sand off of him and uncovering the rest of him slowly. His jeans were now also a shade of sky blue, but only on the behind, she noted. The shirt was red as ever in front, the yellow star completely untouched.

She reached forward, turning his head so that he was facing her. His expression was pinched, twitching ever so slightly as he rested. Thank GOODNESS he was alive. Connie felt tears coming to her eyes as she took him in, both relieved he was breathing, but terrified of what must have happened.

How long had he been laying there? Surely the sun couldn’t bleach his clothing that quickly, right? And he was on his side, not face-down. And besides, it was only just after 8:00, early enough for the sun to be up, but not long enough to bleach his clothes like that. The message had come in late at night.

She moved her hands down to his torso. Grunting, she was able to shift his weight, moving him onto her lap. His face pinched even more with the movement, and he hissed in air between his teeth. She cringed, deciding against moving him more and leaving him positioned above her knees.

His breathing was more audible now, at least, for all that was worth.

“St... Steven?” Connie moved the hand that had been holding his chest and moved it up to his face. “Steven, y-you gotta wake up now, okay? It’s morning. Why...” she huffed a laugh that was more akin to letting air out of your lungs than anything humorous. “Why are you sleeping outside? The sun baked your clothes, silly.”

He wasn’t responding, though at least his breathing was evening out. She felt a tenseness leave his shoulders she hadn’t realized was there.

“No, no no no don’t go back to sleep,” she scolded. She moved her hand again, opting to now shake him. He made a small wounded noise at the action, but she couldn’t wait anymore. “Steven, wake up. Wake up!”

“Hhhhrngggghh...” Steven’s eyes finally opened. “Hurts...”

Connie froze. “Sorry,” she said quickly, “but you’re awake now, so...”

“Wh...” Whatever he was trying to say trailed off as he took in his surroundings. His eyes travelled up to Connie’s face, then along the edge of the beach. Only then did Connie start to notice the damage herself. “...th’ gems,” Steven whispered. “Where are the gems?”

“I...” That was a good question. Connie frowned, looking along the beach on instinct. She couldn’t see them anywhere. Were they in the house?

A glint of sunlight caught her eye. Turning to it, she saw that the beach was littered with gemstones. Or, at the very least, the beach directly surrounding the two of them.

The glinting one had been Amethyst, her purple, six-faceted gem catching the light much better than the others. Pearl was next to her, her light, round shape almost disappearing into the sand. On his other side were two gems she didn’t recognize, a three-faceted blue gem, and a four-faceted red one.

She frowned. “I don’t know where Garnet is, but... Amethyst and Pearl are right next to you.”

Steven strained, trying to turn his head in their direction.

“They got poofed.”

He froze. He let his head fall slack again, and it rolled back to the position Connie had been holding it before. His eyes were blown wide. “Wh... what?”

Connie nodded. “There’s two other gems here I don’t recognize, too.”

Steven shook his head lightly. “But that... we were all just...” His breathing began to quicken again, the tenseness returning to his shoulders. “The light, they were right there, but- no, they all... th-they all-!” He struggled out of Connie’s grasp, trying to fight his way to his feet again, only to cry out in pain. He curled in on himself, one arm holding his stomach, the other supporting him on the sand.

“Steven!” Connie stood up and crouched next to him. “Steven, what’s wrong? What hurt you?”

“The light!” he yelled out. He was looking down, eyes unfocused. “Th-the light was- it came from the ship, and, and then we- but I wanted to help! I have Mom’s shield!” He suddenly turned to look at Connie, and she noted with horror that he was crying. “I had Mom’s shield! I-I shoulda been able to block it, I could have! But I... but I-!” He cut himself off, gasping. He brought a hand up to his mouth, sobbing.

“Steven, stop,” Connie put a hand on his shoulder, not entirely sure how else to react. “You’re not making any sense. Let’s get you inside, we should-”

“I failed.”

Connie froze. Steven’s voice had been near inaudible, painted in shades of anguish. She blinked, trying to get in his line of sight again. “What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t do it.” He hiccuped. “They coulda been fighting back, but I wouldn’t listen. They kept telling me to run. If I did, they would have had a better chance.”

“Wh-what?” Connie shook her head. “Steven, please, let’s call your dad. I think you’re in shock. You’re not making any sense. We can talk about this later.”

“Dad...” Steven nodded slowly, his body starting to tremble again. “Yeah, I want my dad. I... I...” He buried his face in his hands, not trying to hold it back anymore.

Connie took the opportunity. She pulled out her phone and gave Greg a call. Unlike Steven, he picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? This is Greg Universe.”

“Mr. Universe?”

“Connie?” The voice over the receiver softened. “What’s up?”

“Um...” Connie ran a hand through Steven’s curls, letting him lay back down for now. He was still crying openly now and getting louder.

Greg seemed to put two and two together. “Is that Steven?! What happened, is he okay?!”

“I...” Connie looked at Steven again, who’d darted his eyes up to her the second he heard the waver in her voice. The motion made him hiss again, and his expression crunched a bit. “I don’t know!” She grabbed the phone with both hands. “I don’t know! He’s alive, but he’s not making any sense. He’s really freaked out, and in pain, and I can’t figure out what’s wrong, and-”

“Woah woah woah, slow down!” Greg’s voice was barely masking his own panic. “He’s alive?”

Connie nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes, he is.”

“Where is he?”

“On the beach. I found him just... j-just laying in the sand.”

“...And the gems?”

“Poofed.”

Greg sighed. “Alright. Okay. I’m coming up on Beach City right now. I’ll be able to take a look at him in a minute. Can you just stay with him until I get there?”

“I promise.” She looked at Steven again, who had zoned out once again, staring at something only he could see. He looked small in her arms, smaller than normal. It hurt.

Greg hung up first without saying goodbye, so Connie simply put the phone in her pocket. She wrapped both arms around him and hugged him as best as she could from this angle, while minding the pain he was in, too. Steven made a small noise, but she couldn’t figure out what it could mean.

What happened?

[unholyhelbig]

#HW2105- Underwater

[Hey guys! I promise I didn't miss Day four, you can actually find it here . But here is day five. Let me know what you think!]

“I’m not seeing anything,” Emily said, pulling the scope to the left a bit. Her hands were aching, the electric zip of the screen pressing against her nose. She couldn’t get any closer to the monitor. But still, there was nothing but stretching inky darkness.

She let out a grumble and pushed herself back in her chair, reaching for the bag of chips that was closest to her. There was nothing but crumbs left, so she straightened the plastic and tipped it back, catching whatever salt was left.

“Working hard, I see.”

Emily pulled herself forward, landing all four legs of the chair back on the ground. She was startled, pulling her headphones down around her neck. “My eyes needed a break.”

“Ah,” Aubrey entered the room and lowered herself onto the edge of the table. She wasn’t supposed to be down here, this close to the equipment room. It wasn’t her shift, nor was it anytime for a human not adjusted to this time frame to be awake. “Nothing but vast ocean floor.”

“I saw a few Mesopelagic fish.” She used her thumb to brush a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, tantalizing. If that’s what we were actually looking for. I swear to you Em. Part of me thinks she’s not even down here.”

“I don’t think you’re the only one who’s lost hope, you know. Funding is running out, and I have a feeling that if we don’t… if we don’t find the ship soon, no one ever will.”

Aubrey didn’t’ respond to her. Instead, she moved closer to the screen, leaning her full body weight on the chair behind her. Emily could smell her sweat and her sweet perfume used to mask it. She felt her warmth in the cold lower cabins of the ship.

“Do you see that?” She whispered; voice raspy.

Truth is, she didn’t see much of anything but the bout of blonde hair that had suddenly invaded her space. If she wasn’t careful, her glasses would fog up. She cleared her throat, regretted downing those chip crumbs, and moved closer to the screen herself.

“Another fish, granted.”

“No, no. It looked like the front end of a crypt.”

Emily shifted in the seat; the woman forgotten as she shifted the probes view right. There was a mass, albeit one covered with thick bits of algae. Still, it had a distinct shape that was nearly unmistakable. Emily’s breath caught in her throat for the second time in the last few moments.

“Wake Mitchell. I’ll call up to the deckhouse and get Stacie to pull the breaks. I think we’ve found something.”

Emily had already pulled the phone from the hook, struggling not to trip herself in the long winding wire. The whole ship creaked and groaned as it came to a halt, but all through the wile she kept her eyes on the structure that they had found. A simple piece of earth that could uncover the conspiracy of the century.

When Beca finally got down to the observatory, she was sleep ridden and still in pajamas. Her clothes moused her but not her pure presence in the room. Aubrey was quick to follow her in, leaning against the metal frame of the door. They all held their breath, whether they knew it or not. Emily breathed in eventually, when her lungs started to burn.

“Holy shit,” Beca said, making use of the machinery. She rotated the probe a full 360, her nose nearly pressed to the screen “Holy Shit, I think we found it.”

Emily knew when to take a step back from the monitor, the worn chair, and the bag of stale chips that made her stomach turn now. She knew what buttons to push when, but there was no exact science behind it- Aubrey carried a degree in anthropology and American history while Beca lead the way with topography and marine biology.

They migrated to the top deck, the ships engines screaming as the wind countered the man-made sound. Saltwater beat against Emily’s skin, stinging her throat, her lungs, her eyes. The large flood lights made it easy to see, a large pully system connected to the probes started to haul the structure to the service.

“Bring it forward!” Beca yells over the roar of the sea.

Emily wishes she grabbed her raincoat

before coming out here, she braced herself against the railing, staring up at the structure that was looming above them. The moss that had flowed so freely slumped under gravity, slippery and salt worn.

It was bigger than expected; the crypt. The stone had eroded, Beca’s fingers digging into the muck easily as she scooped it away. Emily found herself helping, brushing the muck, and sand, away until it digs into her nailbed. She nearly gagged on the scent.

“Holy shit,” Beca repeated, “Holy shit, this is it.”

“Maybe we should wait. We were hired to find it, not open it.”

“We’ve been out here for three months, Bree. Emily can only keep saltines down. Don’t you think we deserve this?”

The woman glanced towards Emily, her hair wet and stringy, lips pressed into a thin line. If she had any objections, they had left her just as easily as they were found. She nods and scoops the last bit of hardened sand away.

Emily felt sick. She didn’t’ want to admit that Beca was right, that her late-night lunch threatened to make a reappearance. She could taste the bile but swallowed it back. There was something about opening the crypt that had so deliberately been dropped in the middle of the Atlantic that didn’t sit right with her.

The sky was a swirling black above her, and she waited- for a slick moment of time between life and death she stared at the grey clouds that pushed cold rain against her cheeks. Her fingers were knuckle deep in much and her captain called her attention, asking tersely for her to put her back into it.

The inside of the stone structure was lined in a bloody, vibrant red satin. She found it funny, that such a pleasant fabric had lain untouched in the deepest depths of the ocean for this long. The scent that followed- the putrid acidic odor of decay hit her next.

Emily nearly hurled herself to the opposite end of the deck, the cold metal railing digging uncomfortably into her ribs. She vomited, tasting bile and salt before lifting herself back up and staring back at Aubrey, at Beca who braced the side of the container.

“We shouldn’t have opened it,” She murmured, damp hair falling into her gaze. The rain was letting up, the sting not as potent. “We have to put it back.”

Aubrey looked at her, mouth propped in an agape stare. She flicked her gaze down to the open box and then back to Beca but never at Emily, who moved the sleeve of her coat against her pale lips to wipe away the last of bile that clung thick to her senses.

“Bullshit,” Emily’s shoes sloshed as she walked across the deck “I’ve been staring at that stupid monitor for… for months! And you want to put it back.”

Beca swallowed hard and pressed her eyes shut. She turned her back to what they had just pulled from the sea. The rest of the crew stared at them with bated breath, afraid to move, to breathe, to disturb the natural fall of time.

Aubrey inhaled shakily “Emily,”

“No, not I’m not doing this.” She moved closer to the box. “If we don’t deliver this, we don’t get paid. I haven’t spent the better part of winter in the god damned Atlantic to leave empty handed. We worked hard for this.”

“something tells me someone else worked harder. We put it back.” She said.

Emily frowned and gripped the side of the box until her fingers met the softly worn texture of the satin. She swallowed back her nausea, past the scent of decay and dust and- and a metallic edge that smelled more like a rusted blade than congealed blood, a distasteful mix of both. She peered into the darkness, illuminated by the moon that broke through storm clouds.

“Shit.” She said, before everything went black.

[i-need-some-mint-tea]

Cherries and Chess

I decided to write Fan AU 2; Electric Boogaloo 

Words: 1704

Tags: @imma-potatoo @red-imeanblue

Pairings: Loceit, but they’re both gay idiots despite being so smart

~~

(Logan’s perspective)

It had been a week since I had first joined Janus on the ceiling fan. In that time, we had established a routine. I’d usually get up first, eat some cherries that I stick to the ceiling, replace them, talk with Janus, Patton would hand us some food with some help from Roman (Patton got on his shoulders so he could reach us), Virgil would get a snack, talk with Janus, do some other activity, talk with Janus until it was dark outside, then sleep. Rinse and repeat. I had to admit, it was quite nice. Most surprisingly, talking with Janus wasn’t as draining as talking with the others. That was most fortunate because he was the only person who was constantly with me.

The sound of footsteps brought me back to reality slightly, by the pattern of them, I knew it was Patton bringing us breakfast. I saw him walk into the kitchen, “Heya, kiddos!”

He said cheerfully. “Good morning, Patton,” I heard Janus say. I heard the fridge open, but I paid no mind, I was too absorbed in my thoughts to care. I heard Patton take a deep breath in. I knew what was going to happen, I covered my ears. “ROMAN!” Patton yelled, immediately summoning the side in question.

“Yes, padrè?” Roman questioned, then saw where he was summoned to. “You do know, Patton, that you could just do this,” Roman waved his hand dramatically and a pulley system materialized right next to me. “You can use this pulley to bring them food. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish my morning routine. A prince must look his best!” With that, Roman sunk out.

“Thanks, kiddo!” Patton called after him. The three of us sat in silence, the sizzle of bacon Patton was making the only sound. That peacefulness was quick to end as Remus came barreling into the kitchen.

“Hey, nerds!” He called out to who I presumed to be Janus and I. The both of us looked down at him. “Throw the cherries down at me, I want to see how many I can catch in my mouth!” He said as he grinned maniacally.

“I suppose that would be interesting.” I tilted my head, “That’d be a good experiment. How many cherries can one catch if they’re thrown off of a rotating object?” I asked aloud.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Janus said, and before I could answer, he plucked a cherry from the bag sitting next to me and threw it down at Remus. I saw Remus’s eyes light up as he dove for the cherry like the only thing that mattered was catching it. To my surprise, he did catch it. Never underestimate Remus, I guess.

We threw 7 more cherries down at Remus before Patton said, “Well I do think this is fun, maybe you should turn the fan off, it could be a haza-“ I cut him off, “It’s for science, Patton!” I said with a grin on my face.

“I’ve seen you smile a lot more ever since you got on that ceiling fan, kiddo.” Paton smiled, “I guess I’ll let it slide.” Wait. I’ve been smiling more?

“Patton, what do you mean I’ve been smiling more?” I asked as I tossed another cherry down to Remus. He caught that one as well, that’s 27 he’s caught.

I saw Patton scrunch his nose and looked a bit confused, like that was something I should’ve known, “Yeah, Logan. You seem happier.” He suddenly looked mischievous, “Any reason for that?” He asked innocently.

I was even more perplexed. Happier? Reason? How could I supply a reason if I hadn’t even known I was happier? I’ll deal with that later, I guess.

“Care- care to elaborate?” I asked. Patton then looked like he’d uncovered a secret, and his eyes lit up. “Oh, never mind.” He said happily.

I turned to Janus to see if he was listening to see if he could explain what Patton meant, but he was caught up in throwing cherries down at Remus. Finally, a cherry hit Remus in the eye. “How many was that?” I asked excitedly.

As he caught my eye, Janus said, “47. 47 cherries.” Wow, impressive. I looked to Remus, who had picked the cherry off the ground and ate it. I could hear an audible, exaggerated gag from Janus as he watched Remus. I let out a breath of laughter.

“Hey, Janus?” I asked. “Yes, my dear nerd?” He replied, looking at me. I froze for a second when he called me that. Why do I always do that? “Would you- would you want to play chess?” I asked, tripping over my words a bit. I saw Janus nod, seemingly eager to play.

~~

After many hours and 10 games, I said once more, “Checkmate.” Janus looked at me seemingly both bewildered and in awe.

“I have to say, you are very good at chess, Logan,” he said to me. I smiled a bit as my chest swelled with pride, “Thank you, Janus. You are a formidable opponent.” We both had worn ourselves out from so much chess. I had won 6 times, Janus 5 times. This was my seventh win.

It was only 5:00 in the afternoon, yet I was exhausted. As I laid down, I immediately went to sleep.

~~~

(Janus’s perspective)

Logan won again. I looked at him, “I have to say, you are very good at chess, Logan.” I shouldn’t be as surprised as I was, Logan was incredibly smart. That was one of the things I admired about him. Logan met my gaze with a slight smile, “Thank you, Janus. You are a formidable opponent,” he said to me. I smiled, I loved being complimented, especially by him.

I saw Logan yawn and laid down on the fan, with his glasses still on, might I add. Not once had he taken them off. If he always had before this, I didn’t notice. Then again I usually went to sleep before him. If he had his glasses on, he may break them or they may fall off the fan. I reached over and gently pulled off his glasses. Then I made the mistake of looking at his face after I pulled his glasses off.

Holy shit.

I felt a fluttering in my chest as I looked at him. “How the hell is your face so pretty.” I muttered. How dare he make me feel like this. Ew. I hate feelings, they’re so unpredictable and I don’t like it. Yet a small part of me didn’t exactly mind.

I set his glasses down next to him. I put my face in my hands and quietly groaned. I don’t know exactly why I reacted like that when I took off his glasses. Though, at the back of my mind, a possibility of why made itself clear. I ignored it. Nope, nope, not dealing with that today, nope.

I suddenly felt really tired, must’ve been from doing chess so much. I grabbed one of the blankets Patton gave us, laid down, and tried to go to sleep. Luckily, I did so in seconds.

~~~

I woke up for the sixth time, and I checked what hour it was. 5:27 AM was displayed clearly on the clock. I sighed, it’s close to morning, why not stay up? I summoned a cup of lavender tea, my favorite type. I looked out the window into the mindscape, and saw some stars still left in the sky. Maybe I'll look at the stars and watch the sunrise as I wait for my dear nerd to wake up. I wrote a quick note to Logan if he woke up before I got back stating where I was going. I placed the note on the fan, weighed down by the chess board from last night so it wouldn’t fly off the fan.

I hopped off of the fan, and was unpleasantly surprised when I found that my legs were a bit weak. Must be from not moving the past week.

As soon as I got outside onto the roof from the attic window, I felt a warm breeze on my face. Oh, that’s right, it’s spring. I climbed on the roof until I got to a comfortable spot. I looked out over the silent early morning world.

There was a heavily forested area to my right, with trees dotting the landscape everywhere else. There were patches of flowers everywhere, and I saw the grass move with the wind. Just to the left of my, there was a hill with a big oak tree with a tire swing and it too, was blowing in the wind.

I took a deep breath and drank in the scent of everything. I took off my hat, I liked feeling the wind in my hair. I set my hat next to me and looked up at the stars. There were so many stars, I could never count them all. Just then, I saw the sun peek out from over the hill. It bathed the world in early morning sunlight, making the dewdrops on the grass glisten.

I closed my eyes and just listened to the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and grass, as well as the chirps of the birds. I let out a sigh of contentment and hummed a bit.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I hear a familiar voice say. I opened my eyes and saw Logan approaching me on the roof. “It truly is,” I said quietly as he sat beside me. We sat in comfortable silence while watching the sun rise. I had closed my eyes again when Logan spoke, “Janus?” He said softly, as if any louder and he’d disturb the morning world. “Yes?” I asked, not opening my eyes.

“I wanted to thank you for taking off my glasses the other night. I tend to shift in my sleep, so if you hadn’t done that, I surely would’ve broken them,” he said softly. “It’s no big deal,” I replied as the image of what he looked like without the glasses flashed through my mind. The fluttering feeling returned, but I paid it no mind.

We spoke no more as I opened my eyes and together we watched the sun rise.

~~

Hope y’all liked it! I’m having so much fun writing this!

[jenniferstolzer]

Babylon 5 rewatch Episode 2.22: The Fall of Night

Babylon 5 is at the center of not one but three conflicts as John Sheridan agrees to shelter a wounded Narn cruiser. The Centauri don’t like this. Earth doesn’t like this. The Shadows don’t like this. But Sheridan has a strong moral compass and what he doesn’t like is how much the institutions around him are willing to sacrifice in the name of forging some kind of cursory peace.

Things I liked about The Fall of Nighit

1, Lennier and Vir’s friendship. If you ask me Vir, could be friends with literally anyone. He’s such an understanding soul. Lennier is by nature a little judgey. More closed off. So when they sit down next to each other and discover how much they have in common both of them look at each other like “hello what” and automatically agree to meet again. But even this exchange is done almost like spies meeting and I don’t think we stop to think about that very often. These are the attaches of two ambassadors for two of the most powerful races in the galaxy… they could very well be exchanging state secrets instead of expressing solidarity for their equally frustrating jobs.

2,  The Centauri are apparently willing to put their ships on autopilot and black out from g forces if it means when they come to they’ll be in a better firing position. This seems extremely reckless and VERY Centauri. It is the spacebattle equivalent of the hair. Big. Flashy. Not well thought through.

3, In the wake of the mass driver bombing, Sheridan gives Londo an opportunity to speak and Londo is like “NOPE” and jets before he says something that’s going to get him and his whole race in more trouble than they already are. Garibaldi then reads Londo like a literal book, delivering one of my favorite analyses of the character. Everyone thought Londo was a clown, indulging in opulence, going into debt at the casino, drinking himself to a stupor in public, but Garibaldi was his friend and knows that Londo’s not dumb, he’s actually very smart and his mind moves really fast. His error is in his judgment and priorities and he’s currently in waters he did not expect to tread. He’s scared, and he’s going to keep darting in and out of cover until he feels like he has a handle on things or he gets picked off by a hunter, whichever comes first. Also a very classic JMS line “He’s a pain in the butt, but he’s our pain in the butt.” Hunt for that or similar lines in other JMS stuff, he loves that line.

4, The ache of watching McCarthysim at work is very effective. Zach knows the guys he’s ratting on don’t deserve to be ratted on and even says so. “They’re just fooling around” but we can tell by the level of interest and tone of the Nightwatch captian’s voice that they’re gonna get blackballed. Zach can’t deny that they said what they said, but can tell that ratting them out is the wrong thing to do. In the end he relents with a bunch of qualifications but the Nightwatch doesn’t want qualifications. They want names. Thank you for your service.

5, I love that the guy there to ally with the Centauri is from the Ministry of Peace. So poignant. They’ll get peace all right, by paying off the aggressors.  

6, When the Narn ship was coming under threat by the Centauri warship, Sheridan opened a line to Londo just to spit in his face and hang up. It was amazing. Also during this crisis, Sheridan whips out a law book to smack the Nightwatch guy back in his hole. Sinclair would be proud.

7, Watching B5 come under attack is so emotionally stirring. Even on a rewatch, I don’t want to see it hurt.

8, We have arrived! The scene where Kosh reveals himself. I love that G’Kar is hiding in the plants – like he’s not a huge gecko man who people are going to notice. I also love how plaintiff his voice is, thinking if he speaks on Sheridan’s behalf it’ll help him in the political shitshow he’s currently in. I mean he’s issuing this apology for helping a Narn ship and G’Kar is very very very grateful for that. Also B5 blew up a Centauri warship so he’s pretty grateful for that too, I mean come on… I like that B5 has like a standard subway system in the middle of it and that they let the Puppet Friends ride. I miss the puppet friends. I love that the rotational gravity system means there’s a weightless portion in the center of hydroponics and that we used that to our advantage in this story. Also the vorlons in their native form play on the perception of the lesser races. They are light beings, and humans see them as angels. The rest of the races see them as prophets or gods, but none of these perceptions are perfect. We see wings and white robes and think Angel, but Kosh didn’t appear like a rennaissance painting. He’s got a butterfly look to him, too. The face he wears is a facsimile of a human not an exact human. He’s not perfect, we’re just in awe. Love that.

9 And finally a lot has been said about why Londo doesn’t see anything when Kosh appears. He’s been touched by the Shadows, so he can’t be converted by the Vorlons b/c we’re playing a game of Othello today I guess. Maybe because he doesn’t actually believe in his pantheon of gods so he doesn’t have any deities to witness. Maybe he’s lying because what he saw was his own greed and vanity. The general consensus is the first – that he’s incapable of seeing the light because he’s in the dark. For a fresh take on it, let’s look at the Vorlons through this lens. Kosh said before that if he revealed himself everyone would know him… I take this as being a side effect of being Vorlon. Vorlons are a feeling not an image. Like Magenta. Magenta’s not a real color, it exists on the color wheel because something has to connect red and purple on the color spectrum… but the spectrum of visible light is actually a straight line. The wavelengths for red and purple are far from touching, but our brains can perceive when they’re both present, so Magenta occurs. It’s imaginary, but we see it for real with our eyes. That’s Vorlons. Perhaps Londo saw a shapeless light thing in the sky, perhaps that’s what Vorlons really are… or perhaps they have no visible representation at all until they hit our brains. Our eyeballs behold something, but our brains have to construct it out of pieces. When the rest of the galaxy looked at Kosh they used the color wheel to construct him, but Londo was only given the wavelengths. He saw nothing, because nothing was there to see. I really wish there was another Centauri there to be like “I saw the goddess Li welcoming me to her arms!” and Londo’s over there like “I’m the problem” instead of not really answering that question. Maybe it’s answered in season 3, I don’t know. Did Vir see anyone up there? He must have been on break.

What I like Less about 22

1, So here’s where I’m going to talk about Keffer. I know the origin story…. that he was an unwelcome addition to the cast added per network request, but who the hell is he other than that? I think its remarkable how he slips right out of my head the minute he is off camera. We know he’s a pilot, that he was close to Carlos (whose story/death you may recall I was laughing at in a previous episode because its significance ALSO came out of nowhere), and that he made friends with the GROPOS grunts (who we incidentally learned to care about enough in that one episode that we were sad when they died…. Awkward considering Keffer’s contribution to this episode…) Honestly the most interesting thing about him is that he’s got an old-timey fighter pilot scarf he wears and he believes in ghosts and I bet you all forgot about the ghosts. Honestly, the most interesting thing about Keffer is how he’s a lesson in how not to write an interesting character – and no shade on JMS for that, I know he did it on purpose. Significant things happening to a character does not automatically make them a strong character. Keffer experienced loss, came face to face with the shadows, got in fights… a lot of stuff happened to him, but he was almost always the only named character in those scenes. We cared about the GROPOS because they cared about each other and we responded to that. Keffer was there to play cabbage head and ask questions. He’s not tight with any of our main cast who we’ve had tons more time to grow attached to, and dies for plot reasons without leaving an impact with his loss. Heck, you can see the value of interpersonal relationships on character development in action when the show used a shoehorn to try and force some in in context to Carlos a second and a half before he died. We had him drinking at the bar with command staff suddenly, we had him die as a result of a flight mission Sheridan was part of to make Sheridan feel guilty about it. Everyone was standing around going like “No, Not Ramirez” and if you recall on my previous episode writeup I was LAUGHING at how tortured this sudden human connection was. Keffer could have been made interesting. Follow me on this.

My treatment on how to make Keffer interesting:

Let’s say Keffer was introduced as an old friend of one of our characters – Fraknlin let’s say. He was a friend from the Minbari War days that helped him sneak behind enemy lines. Perhaps he was complicit in the covering up and destruction of Franklin’s notes on Minbari anatomy. As a result, the two hang out in medbay sometimes, talking about old times and comparing the current war to the one they fought together. We learn that Keffer has a fire for justice. Hates bullies. Sees the strong as absolute defenders of the weak and that any stronger race picking on a weaker one is a bigger coward than the unvierse can hold. Then when Carlos gets killed by the ghost he starts researching what it could be. Kosh and Delenn tell him to stay out of it. The audience assumes he’s going to uncover something and bring Franklin and other characters into Delenn and Sheridan’s confidence about the shadows through curiosity and honor, but we’re learning through the episodes that the Shadows are IMMENSELY powerful and have no patience for flies. When he breaks off from his squad to go have a looksee at what he suspects led to his personal friend Carlos’s death, we know this is going to kill him. He ignores the warnings of those who have more awareness and dies to bring back evidence of the Shadows to the station. Sheridan recognizes how Keffer’s curiosity and sense of judgment led to recklessness, something Sheridan himself is prone to. He vows not to let Keffer die in vain, but also states that the proof he got has changed everything… and that Sheridan would have done the same. Killing your men in the name of a mission is never the goal but there’s a line everyone crosses when the safety of the universe is at stake and sometimes things are worth dying for. Franklin walks into medbay, casts a look to the counter where Keffer used to sit all those nights, and turns away.

But that’s not what happen. Keffer’s dead now and I don’t miss him. Glad he emailed the Shadows to ISN five nanoseconds before he died.

Babylon 5 is now the last best hope for victory because sometimes peace is another word for surrender and because secrets have a way of getting out. On to season 3!

[trashyswitch]

Jeremy Meets Helpy

Chapter 1

Jeremy has been trying to make the best of his life after his nightmare in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. But his loneliness is about to be changed for the better from a source he least expected...

For @kanene-yaaay

This was just a fun idea I had. I just kept imagining what would happen if Jeremy met Helpy. And this was my answer! I hope you enjoy!

Jeremy was sitting in his house, reading a book. He was growing bored out of his mind from having almost nothing to do. He already got home from work, so he didn’t have anything to look forward to besides sleep. Sometimes, even sleep wasn’t fun...The painful memories of getting bitten while working would sometimes come back to him. He would feel his scar, drag his finger around the scar and would either cry or try to distract himself.

Sometimes distractions like TV, his phone or other things will help. But...sometimes it didn’t. And he would end up crying anyway. Truth be told, he was trying to make the most of his life. But...there were only a few good memories he could really think of.

Suddenly, a crash could be heard from the kitchen. Jeremy widened his eyes, got himself up and grabbed a nearby weapon. It was his garbage lid, and it was the only thing closest to him at that moment. Jeremy held onto it for dear life just like a shield, and quietly walked himself to the kitchen. When he looked in the kitchen, it looked like there was no one visibly in there. But his eyes fell upon a rattling colored box near the phone. It usually had binders, folders and his resume in there. But the stuff was being thrown and scattered all over.

Jeremy slowly brought himself to the box, picking up his folders and binders. He looked inside the box and…

It was purple...and shiny. Unsure of what else to do, Jeremy dropped the binders and folders into the box. The items hit the purple thing and let out a small noise:

“Ouch!”

It was weirdly high-pitched. It sounded like a weird, high-pitched robot voice that you’d give a fake hamster. Like those zhu zhu pets! Some of them had high-pitched voices!

Jeremy removed the binders & folders, and picked up the purple thing like a toddler. “Huh? Uhoh!” The thing reacted. Its back was facing Jeremy, allowing it to look around the room. It had ears! And arms, and legs! It also had a big middle.

The purple thing wiggled around a little and tried to turn its head around. Jeremy awkwardly looked at its back side and widened his eyes as a logo across the waist stuck out to him:

[Fazbear Entertainment]

FAZBEAR WHAT?!

Jeremy shrieked and dropped the thing, causing it to hit the ground and bounce. “Ouch! Oof! Ow!” The purple thing reacted as it bounced. It lifted its head up. “Where am I?” it asked next, looking around. Finally, the purple thing turned itself around and revealed its face and front body to him. “Oh! Hi!” The little thing said happily, waving.

It was a bear! A purple, plastic-looking bear!

Jeremy was shaking, growing super nervous. He knew the thing was tiny. He knew the thing could probably be punted 8 feet away. But it still scared him. Anything from Fazbear Entertainment scared him. He sensed that even the tiniest little thing like this, could find a way to hurt him too.

“Wow! Big!” It reacted, reaching its arms up.

Jeremy’s eyes shrunk a bit as he tried carefully poking it with his foot. The little bear, looking confused, tried to push his foot away. Jeremy raised an eyebrow and tried pushing the bear away with his arch against his forehead. The little bear let out a yelp of some sort, and tried to push the foot away again, or run towards it to force the foot in front. The look of the tiny purple bear, waving its arms around while his foot was against its forehead, was...kinda funny and cute.

Jeremy tilted his head and smiled a bit.

“Get off! Get off me, foot!” the bear yelled. The yelling did nothing, other than make Jeremy reconsider how scary this bear was. The bear removed the foot from his forehead and held onto it. Then, the bear started to smile. It placed its fingers onto his foot and started wiggling. “Tickle tickle!”

Jeremy yelped and pulled his foot away, causing the bear to fly up too. “Weeee!”

Jeremy hummed and widened his eyes when he realized the bear was holding onto his foot still. He was currently a couple feet in the air! Not sure what else to do, Jeremy awkwardly picked it up, and held it.

The bear giggled and looked at him with the biggest, cutest eyes. “Again!”

Jeremy smiled a little more. “Maybe in a bit.” He replied.

The bear hummed, and tilted his head. “Oh! Look!” The bear looked up at his ears, and started wiggling them in and out, in and out.

Jeremy couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Wow!” he replied enthusiastically. The bear let out its own giggle and covered its mouth. “Now: How did you get here?” Jeremy asked.

The bear pointed to the open window at the sink. Jeremy hung his head and sighed. He always forgets to close that window...

“So...You’re part of Freddy Fazbear’s?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy nodded his head. “Pizza!” The bear replied excitedly, throwing its hands into the air.

Feeling extra excited, the bear then pulled an air horn out of its purple belly and honked it in Jeremy’s face. Jeremy shrieked and dropped the bear, covering his ears in annoyance. The bear fell onto the ground with a crash…

A cracking sound could be heard for a moment as well…

Jeremy widened his eyes and uncovered his ears. “Oh shit...Are you okay?!” Jeremy asked.

The bear jumped right up onto its feet again with a giggle. Only...its little neck was not looking too good. The head was rotated a little too much to the side. That must’ve been what cracked. Next, the bear turned its neck back in front, emitting another loud crack sound.

Jeremy cringed and let out a little yip sound. Did- Did this bear just crack its neck and snap it back into place?! Jeremy had dropped his jaw in horror. What in the world was this thing?!

“D-Do you...have a name?” Jeremy asked.

The bear ran up and hugged Jeremy’s left leg. “Helpy loves you!” it replied while snuggling its face into his lower leg.

Helpy...This little bear’s name is Helpy. Jeremy smiled wider. “Helpy…” Jeremy said out loud. “He or her?” Jeremy asked.

The bear thought for a moment as it went back in its memories. A few seconds later, it finally answered. “Helpy a boy!” Jeremy giggled at the childish grammer.

Wanting to learn about Jeremy, Helpy looked up at him with curious eyes and pointed at Jeremy. Jeremy cleared his throat. “I’m Jeremy. I’m a boy too.” Jeremy replied.

Helpy gave Jeremy a big smile and let go of his leg. “Jeh...Jeeewwwa...eeemy- Jemy!” Helpy quickly declared, before breaking out in somewhat stop-motioned happy dancing. Jeremy giggled at the little bear’s cute little dance moves and watched him jump around and shake its booty. How in the world did such a shady cooperation manage to make such a cute little being?!

Jeremy couldn’t help but dance a little with him too. Helpy gasped at this and grabbed onto his leg while Jeremy danced. Jeremy stopped dancing and crossed his arms. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” He asked. Helpy replied by snuggling his face into his leg again and attempted to kiss his leg. It was more like a mouth clunk than an actual kiss though. Jeremy giggled at this more and picked him up. “Come here little Helpy.” He said.

Helpy squealed and threw his arms up excitedly as he was picked up. “Airplane! Airplane Helpy!” The little bear declared.

Jeremy brought Helpy closer and gave Helpy a big hug and a pat on the back. Helpy squealed happily and hugged him back. He also started giving Jeremy ‘kisses’, or cold head clunks, on his jawline and cheek.

Jeremy giggled and snickered at the weirdly ticklish kisses. Though they were meant to be loving, they were more awkward and tickly than anything. “Thahat tickles, Helpy.” He told the bear.

Helpy narrowed its eyes at him and opened his mouth to show off his buck-toothed smile. Jeremy widened his eyes and quickly realized he may have made a mistake with his words. Helpy brought his hands over and with no hesitation, it started skittering its fingers on his neck. Jeremy squeaked and giggled a little more. “Hehehelpy dohohohon’t!” Jeremy warned.

“Tickle tickle!” Helpy teased, wiggling its ears as he tickled him. Jeremy quickly brought Helpy away from his chest and neck and held him outwards in front of him.

Helpy went dazed for a moment or two. Confused, Helpy tapped his finger on his chin as he looked at Jeremy’s hands. Also wanting another hug, Helpy reached his arms out and looked at him with big, sad eyes.

“Are you gonna tickle me again?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy let out an auto tuned whimper and tilted his head as he reached for Jeremy.

“Listen to me:” Jeremy ordered softly. “Are you going to tickle me when I hug you?”

Helpy shook his head and made a humming sound to go with it. Then, he went back to reaching his arms out and waving his fingers. Jeremy sighed with defeat. He just couldn’t say no to this guy. It was impossible. So, he brought him into another hug.

Much like Jeremy kind of suspected, Helpy was clearly lying about the ‘not tickling you’ thing. Helpy went right back to tickling his neck the moment he made contact with Jeremy’s shoulders. This time though, Jeremy didn’t force him away. He decided to remain in the hug and just giggled away while Helpy tickled his neck. “Hehehehehe! Ihihi knehehew ihit, ya lihittle lihihihihier.” Jeremy said to him.

“Tickle tickle!” Helpy said, tickling under his chin too.

Jeremy moved his chin away and tittered with giggles mixed in. “Ohokahay, little Helpy. Should we find out where you came from?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy widened his eyes and frantically shook his head. He liked Jeremy! And he didn’t wanna leave him! Especially not now! Helpy wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s neck and refused to let go of him. Jeremy chuckled and let him hold on desperately to the back of his neck. He was surprisingly light for something made of plastic and metal parts.

“Do I have to find out if you’re ticklish too?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy widened his eyes and smiled a little more at that. Just for the sake of it, he refused to let go.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jeremy started skittering his fingers on Helpy’s sides and lower ‘rib’ area.

Helpy let out a little squeal and quickly started kicking his tiny feet. “Aahaha! Jemy! hehehe Jehemy! I’m gonna fall!” Helpy giggled.

Jeremy widened his eyes in shock. It WORKED?! He did NOT expect that to work! He smiled almost right away. “Now how in the world-” He grabbed Helpy, laid him down onto his inner arm like a baby and started tickling his belly. “How did Fazbear Entertainment manage this?!” He asked, referring to the programming that made him ticklish.

“Jehehemy! Tihihickles! Ihit tickles! Hehehehe!” Helpy giggled, covering his mouth with both his hands.

Jeremy took in a breath and blew a little raspberry on his belly. Helpy let out an auto tuned squeal of surprise and kicked his feetsies as he giggled a lot more higher-pitched into his hands.

“Awwww!” Jeremy teased. “You’re not a threat. You’re barely even scary! You’re just a rare gem. A tiny one at that.” Jeremy told him, poking his shirt buttons.

Helpy giggled and pushed his finger away with one of his hands while he covered his bashfulness with his other. “Jehehemy ehembarrassihihing mehehehe!” Helpy whined through his giggles.

“Oh no! What a tragedy! Is the poor Helpy gonna die from embarrassment if I forget to stop?” Jeremy asked dramatically.

Despite clearly being a robot, Helpy nodded his head. “Yeheheeees!” Helpy whined with a smile. Jeremy stopped and watched as Helpy’s giggles dropped. His happy face quickly turned pouty. “No no no!” Helpy grabbed Jeremy’s hand and pushed it up to his purple belly. “Happy embarrassed! Ihihi’m hahappy ehembarrassed!” Helpy explained.

Jeremy gasped at this and resumed tickling his belly. “Happy embarrassed? Is that a good thing?” Jeremy asked. He started poking the belly with a big smirk. “I think that’s a good thing!”

Helpy squealed and twisted himself around onto his belly to hide his blush inside Jeremy’s arm. Helpy was way too embarrassed to even look at Jeremy! And Jeremy himself found this so cute and hilarious!

“Awww! Teasy bear! Teasy Helpy the teddy!” Jeremy teased. His confidence quickly fell however, as he felt a few fingers in his armpit. Jeremy shrieked and curled in. “OOOHOHO NOHO! HEHEHELPYHYHY!” Jeremy laughed. “THAHAHAT’S CHEHEHEATIHIHING!”

Helpy smiled and quickly started digging into his armpit more. “Tickle tickle! Jemy tickly too!” Helpy teased back.

Jeremy fell down to his knees and continued leaning to the side being tickled. “YOHOHOHOU GOHOHOHOT YOHOUR AHAHATTAHACK! IHIHIT WAS MYHYHY TUHUHURN!” Jeremy protested.

“My turn! My turn!” Helpy declared proudly. “Helpy love tickly Jemy!”

Jeremy hung his head as he mentally realized that his fate was sealed. He was gonna end up with a little robot teddy bear that’s surprisingly really good at tickling. Though maybe that was a good thing. He could have a companion in this lonely small house. Maybe Helpy was the one thing that he needed!

Jeremy laid onto his back and let Helpy tickle him for a little longer. Happy to be given such a fun opportunity, Helpy pulled his hand out of Jeremy’s armpit and ran to his belly. “Buttons!” He declared and felt around for any buttons on his belly that resembled his own metal black buttons. Helpy lifted up his shirt and gasped at the circular dip on his torso. “...Button?”

Jeremy looked up. “Wha- NOHOHAHAHAHA!” He declared.

“Tickle Button!” Helpy declared as he added more pokes.

Jeremy squeaked and snorted, kicking his feet and rocking his belly left and right. “NOHOHO BEHEHELLYHYHYHYHYHYHY BUHUHUTTOHOHON! *snort* COHOHOHOME OHOHOHON!” Jeremy pleaded.

“Tickle tickle button! Tickle button, tickle button!” Helpy repeated.

Jeremy snorted again. “THIHIHIS IHIHIS CUHUHUTE, BUHUHUT SOHOHOHO TIHIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Jeremy yelled at him.

Helpy gasped and looked up at him with big, wide, happy eyes. “Cute?” Helpy asked. He stopped tickling and crawled up to Jeremy’s shoulder. “Helpy cute?” He asked.

Jeremy looked over with a big smile on his face and petted his little bear ears. “Of course you are! You are very cute, Helpy.” Jeremy told him. Helpy covered his mouth and giggled while waving his ears up and down. It looked like Jeremy had found another tickle spot of his.

Jeremy giggled at this and started tickling his inner ear. This actually caused Helpy to break out into a toddler-like tantrum! But he was giggling and laughing with his eyes squeezed shut! His ears were waving up and down to try and get Jeremy’s fingers away, and he was rocking left and right as well, while throwing his limbs around everywhere! It was like a happy spaz attack!

Misinterpreting it from first glance, Jeremy quickly stopped and looked at him with a worried expression. “Are you okay?”

Helpy went completely limp in a star-shaped position and continued giggling in a lazy daze. Jeremy booped his snoot playfully, and bursted out laughing when the nose actually squeaked! Helpy giggled more at that. “Jemy boop!” Helpy declared. Jeremy giggled at that.

Helpy brought himself closer to Jeremy and cuddled against him. Jeremy, happy to cuddle him, wrapped his arms around him and started rubbing his belly. Helpy smiled and shoved his fuschia pink cheek into Jeremy’s shoulder.

Before they knew it, Jeremy had fallen asleep as he cuddled Helpy on the ground. He managed to sleep for a total of 2 hours before he woke up again. Jeremy smiled as he woke up from his sleepy daze and looked over to where Helpy was laying. But...Helpy wasn’t there. Huh? Where did he go? Jeremy got himself up and started looking around the house for Helpy. But he was nowhere to be found. Did he leave?

Jeremy sat down on the bed, trying to process what might’ve happened. Maybe Helpy had to leave and didn’t wanna wake him. Or maybe...he wasn’t there in the first place. Maybe Helpy was just a creature from his dreams. But it felt so real! It couldn’t have been a dream!

Could it?

Jeremy felt tears fill his eyes as he realized how much he’d lost in what felt like 5 minutes. He realized just how lonely and sad he was. Helpy filled a gaping hole he had lived with for half of his life. And now...It was empty again.

Jeremy put his hands in his pockets as he sunk down and hung his head. But his hand grazed across something. It felt like a piece of paper. It was too big and thick to be a receipt. And it felt folded in multiple spots. Jeremy pulled out the paper and read the front word that looked like it was typed out in bubble letters on a computer:

[Jemy!]

Jeremy widened his eyes. That was Helpy’s nickname for him! He WAS real! Jeremy opened the paper and read the bubble-lettered words written inside:

[Hi Jemy! Helpy had to go. I’m sorry. Mr. Emily wants me to help a work man. Helpy can come back soon! Pinky promise! Helpy loves you! ~Helpy]

Jeremy smiled through his tears. The mystery was solved. His questions were answered. Helpy is real alright, and he’ll come back for more cuddles and bonding moments when he’s done his job.