#I drew this in the car so have mercy on me

[brookiidookiii]

Day 6: Genderbend

[sserpente]

S T R A Y

Synopsis: The streets are not safe at night, not in the N109 zone, and even less so for a woman. When you realise you are being followed one night, panic surges through you, your heart pounding in your chest. You have to come up with a plan, fast. Hardly anyone still mingles at this time of day, yet there is a club nearby whose lights are still lit. A group of men are chattering just outside. One of them, you recognise. It is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus himself. Discarding all rational thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, hoping that he will play along and help you. It’s an encounter you’re certain you will never forget. So when you meet again a few weeks later during a fateful business meeting and your own father offers you up to him as payment to settle a dispute, only one question remains—did you get unlucky…or lucky?

Words: 5434 Warnings: bad parenting, being followed

Life in the N109 zone was…different. More than the booming trade of vitamin D pills and weaponry, there was a certain beauty to it. One that I had come to appreciate. The glooming lights, the abrasive darkness, and that mysterious aura were a balm to the soul that most people failed to appreciate.

It was life. Life was rough. This dream of Linkon City, an escape most people here longed for, was as unreachable as the sunlight.

As for me, my father made sure of that. I was all he had—and he wouldn’t let me leave to find joy elsewhere. Not unless he could draw an advantage from it himself.

I sighed, clutching the pile of neatly stacked documents tighter to my body. Confidential documents, retrieved illegally, of course, that were too precious to entrust anyone else with. It was already past midnight and the cold had crept in without mercy, crawling further and further into the heart of the N109 zone and freezing up its streets and alleys.

I breathed out through my mouth only to watch it mix with the crisp winter air. I wasn’t dressed warmly enough but there had been no time to put on several layers of clothing before my father sent me out with urgency in his voice.

He was mad. I could consider myself lucky if I made it home safely—without any vicious Wanderer attacks or thugs who wanted my father’s head as much as they wanted the pile of documents I realised now would be better off in my bag.

Perhaps it was a coincidence that I did. Or perhaps it was some sort of divine intervention because the very moment I closed the zip, I spotted a man wearing a black beanie from the corner of my eye. It was too dark to make out his face, only that he had stopped walking…and stepped forward again as soon as I did.

Shit. Don’t panic. It could just be a coincidence. Just change the side of the road and it’ll be fine. I drew in another deep breath, bracing myself. I took a sharp turn right, crossing the street over cracked asphalt and a discarded car tire only to watch the stranger do the same.

Perhaps now it was time to panic. There was no doubt about it. My gun was in my bag. Would I be fast enough to pull it out, cock it and aim before he realised what I was doing? Possibly not. He was getting closer already. I had to act fast.

The main road was the only one fairly lit in the N109 zone. I had to disappear out of sight if I wanted to gain an advantage and in order to do that, I had to merge with the shadows. I took another sharp turn, slipping into a side alley.

Old cardboard boxes and bins lined the narrow pathway, and the pavement was still glistening with the tears the sky had cried throughout the day in the artificial light of a shady poker club that was still open.

An opportunity, perhaps? I quickened my steps, heading straight towards it. Voices accompanied the weak source of light—cheerful chatter by men and women alike. Normally, I’d stay miles away from these places. But right now, it may be my only lifeline.

Another inconspicuous glance back proved the stranger was indeed still following me.

Ten more steps. Ten more steps and I could…could do what? I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t thought this through at all. People who visited these clubs were hardly of the trustworthy sort. If anything, there was a chance they were even deadlier than the man behind me.

Still, I had no choice, perhaps I would…

My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on one of the men facing the open door of the building. His hands were buried in his pockets as if he didn’t have a care in the world, a nonchalance unusual to the N109 zone. But it was his appearance that made my breath hitch.

White hair, red eyes…this…this was Sylus. I’d only seen him once before. As a real estate agent on the dodgier and more exploiting side, my father liked picking fights over property he believed he was entitled to—it got him on Onychinus’s bad side quickly, and onto their long list of enemies they were happy to strangle on sight.

My instincts should be telling me to run. I could only imagine the pure horrors they’d inflict on me if they knew I was his daughter. But I was also running short on options. Sylus was the most powerful man in the N109 zone. And as of right now, he was the only one I would trust to be capable of helping me out of my predicament.

He heard me approach before he turned his head to face me. One of his perfectly shaped eyebrows rose slightly when my eyes locked with his, yet before he could utter even a single word, I threw myself into his arms as if he was my boyfriend and I hadn’t seen him all week. He placed his hands on my waist presumably by reflex, a barely audible gasp escaping his lips in the process.

“A little stray kitten is seeking the protection of a lion. How…adorable,” he purred. Mockery swung in his dark voice. It sent pleasant shivers up and down my spine, reminding me of how dangerous this man was, and yet…I felt safe in his arms. Protected. With a shaky breath, I nuzzled up to his neck even closer.

“Please…I’m being followed. Help me. C-can you pretend we know each other?”

Sylus stiffened in my arms. For a brief moment, I worried he’d push me away and tell me to deal with this myself but instead…instead he tightened his grip around me with a start. I let out a sigh of relief before I could stop myself.

“Who? The guy right behind you?” he asked, his tone low and stern.

“Yes,” I whispered into his ear. “He’s wearing a black beanie.”

Sylus hummed, looking up when the strange man reached us at last. “Can I help you?” he growled.

I swallowed thickly, pressing my face against Sylus’s chest. Heavens, he smelled…good. His masculine scent calmed my nerves in an instant, my trembling ceasing a little.

“N-no…” I heard the man stutter behind me.

“Then what do you want from my girlfriend? You don’t strike me as the poker type,” Sylus continued, his voice carrying just a hint of a threat. My girlfriend… Why did I like the sound of that so much? I suppressed a scoff. I’d been reading too many mafia romance novels, that was for sure.

“Your girlfriend, huh? I’m just taking a walk. Enjoying the fresh air, taking in the night breeze.”

Clearly, he was not convinced. Yet it appeared he did not realise who Sylus was either—and that as of right now, he was playing not only with fire but death itself.

“Then keep on walking and don’t look back,” Sylus said. He leaned back a little, hooking his index finger under my chin to force me to look at him. His crimson gaze went soft, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Did you have a good day at work, kitten?”

I nodded, too stunned to speak. Studying him up close, he…he was attractive. Very attractive. Shit, what was wrong with me? This wasn’t just anyone, this was…this was the leader of Onychinus himself! Sylus is dangerous, I scolded myself. Your father’s arch enemy, your...oh please, don’t develop a crush on him!

“How can I be sure you really know the lady, huh? You could be blackmailing her, making her work for you, or some shit like that. She might need my help.”

Sylus growled. I was unprepared for the jolt of electricity rippling through me when he did. But what had me at his mercy was his following action. Without showing any signs of hesitation, Sylus leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, claiming my mouth in a kiss full of longing and the promise of more.

I froze. Panicked and melting into him both at the same time. By the time he released me, his hot breath ghosting over my face, the stranger scoffed and then, finally, took off.

Butterflies exploded in my belly, my heart fluttering in my chest to the point I was worried he could hear it.

I should thank Sylus. Show him my appreciation, shower him with grateful words, and yet…my throat remained paralysed as if his kiss had awakened something in me my body was yet to come to terms with.

“You are reckless wandering around the N109 zone unarmed at this time of night, kitten,” he said once the man was out of sight.

Damn it. I shook myself. Pull yourself together!

“I’m not unarmed. I have a gun in my bag, I just…I panicked. He would have reached me by the time I got my weapon out.”

“Then carry it on your hip next time. How far are you from home?”

“About a mile. That way.” I pointed down the alley—the exact same direction the stranger had disappeared into.

I only realised now that Sylus was still holding me. I cleared my throat, peeling myself out of his embrace.

And whoever he had been conversing with, they were all gawking and had been following the spectacle as if I was the main character of a reality TV show. Oh, how lovely.

“Luke, Kieran!”

“Yes, boss?” Two young men dressed entirely in black, their faces hidden by eerie masks stepped into view, answering Sylus in unison. I blinked. Where had they come from?

“Take my car and bring this lady home safe.” His tone allowed no contradiction—not from me and certainly not from the twins. Not that they were not inclined to read every wish from his lips anyway.

“Sure thing, boss,” one of them said.

“Follow us!” the other one added.

Expecting me to do as I was told, they disappeared around the corner, the way I came from, before I could protest.

I took a step back. “Uh… Sylus?”

His crimson eyes locked with mine. A mute invitation to continue speaking.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “Good night, kitten.”

I did not look back when I took off. I couldn’t. I could still taste him on my lips along with the lingering aroma of expensive whiskey…

“In you go, miss!”

“Yeah, just tell us where you live and we’ll get you home in no time!”

Unable to tell who was who, I merely recited my address to them before I climbed into the back of the car hoping that this wasn’t a trick and they would indeed take me home.

Studying the interior as well as the exterior and taking into consideration that I didn’t know a lot about cars; even I knew that this one was expensive. Very expensive, surpassing the wealth of my father by far.

As soon as the engine was started and the twins stirred the vehicle further and further away from the poker club, my mind drifted off to Sylus and the way those stunning red eyes had softened with compassion upon learning of my precarious situation. A man with such a look in his gaze couldn’t possibly be a villain…right?

“Wait…this is where you live? This is the real estate agent’s mansion.”

“Are you his daughter?”

They both leaned back, staring at me through their expressionless masks. I swallowed thickly. Shit. I should have given them a different address. One that was right around the corner or something. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“I…I…”

“Explains why you’re sneaking around at night. That real estate agent is shady.”

“I was just trying to get home. I’m not up to anything. And I certainly don’t want any trouble.” Plus, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into the arms of my father’s greatest enemy, your boss, if I did.

“Ah, don’t worry, we won’t tell Boss about your dad.”

“Yet.”

The car doors unlocked, prompting me to breathe out audibly. “T-Thank you.”

“Good night!” they called out in unison when I got out of the car as quickly as I could muster. I’d barely closed the door again before they drove off already, leaving me behind confused and speechless. Yet? What was that supposed to mean?

It was a few weeks after this incident that my father announced I was to attend a highly important business meeting with him. So far, Onychinus had been silent. No surprise attacks, no kidnappings. I should have felt at ease that Sylus had acted like a true gentleman that night, ensuring I got home safe without expecting anything in return.

Luke and Kieran must have kept their mouth shut about my identity. And if they hadn’t, and Sylus already knew who I was and where I lived…

It should have been concern or even fear pumping through my veins. Instead, my thoughts kept circling back to the very moment the infamous leader of Onychinus had kissed me as if we were in love.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” My father stepped behind me, meeting my gaze in the mirror.

I took a deep breath and straightened my suit. “Ready, Dad. So…who are we meeting tonight? And where?”

“Place is a shady poker club about a mile from here. We won’t stay there any longer than necessary.”

Shady poker club? I swallowed thickly. He couldn’t possibly mean…

“Dad, who are we meeting up with?”

“The less you know, the better, sweetheart. Now let’s go. We’re gonna be late. He doesn’t like it when you’re late.”

He. Who was he?

My father ushered me outside and into his car before I could pry any further. We soared through the streets ignoring speed limits and the occasional obstacle. He was nervous. The way his fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white had me shift back and forth on the passenger seat all restless and uneasy myself.

He hadn’t even told me why he wanted me there in the first place. Not knowing what to expect at all threatened to have me decorate the dashboard with my dinner.

But perhaps that was a lie. Part of me did know, precisely, what to expect. I realised that the very moment the car came to a stop.

Sylus’s crimson eyes locked with mine when I entered the poker club a few steps behind my father and his men, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. If Luke and Kieran had indeed revealed my identity to him, he did not show it. His demeanour was calm. Collected.

“Mr. Sylus… Thank you for your time,” my father said.

“Don’t thank me before you have made it worth my while.” He paused and my heart skipped a beat when he stepped towards me and raised my hand to his face, pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles. “We meet again, kitten.”

It lingered on my skin even after he let go, like the gentle wings of a butterfly caressing the back of my hand. I was on fire, my face and ears so warm I could practically feel the blood pumping through them. Airplanes took off in my body, making me nauseous for different reasons entirely now. Damn it.

“Good evening, Sylus,” I pressed out at last.

My father’s eyes widened. “You know each other?”

Sylus looked at me expectantly.

“Uh… Sylus helped me out of an iffy situation the night you sent me to retrieve those documents for you. He ensured I returned home safely,” I said.

It was a challenge to hide the trembling in my voice. I’d had good reason not to tell my father about my encounter with Sylus. I suppressed a gasp when he grabbed my upper arm.

“Are you kidding me, child? You’re telling me you put yourself in the leader of Onychinus’s debt?” he hissed.

And this was exactly why.

I spotted the twins, standing guard on either side of Sylus’s chair, their masks void of any emotion as usual. Sylus himself had sat down already in the meantime, an untouched glass of whiskey on the stained poker table in front of him. The place was deserted. Neither customers nor staff filled the place with life, leading me to believe that Sylus had made sure there wouldn’t be any unwanted eyes and ears present.

“I don’t have all day,” he called over. He almost sounded…bored.

“Mr. Sylus… Of course. Excuse me. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

My father’s men scattered across the room, taking position in every corner with one hand on the handle of their guns. I swallowed, relieved when my father finally let go of me and sat down opposite Sylus. I took a seat next to him, unsure of what he expected me to do next.

Already I was hardly looking forward to the ride back home. My father would give me hell for getting involved with Onychinus on my own terms. Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

“So…Mr. Sylus. I heard you are currently investigating Mr. Edward Geoffrey’s efforts to create Evol serums?”

I frowned. Of course, Onychinus would be interested in Geoffrey’s Evol serums too. My father had always had an eye for opportunity. He surpassed himself, however, with this. Willingly setting up a meeting with the enemy was not only reckless, it was suicide.

“You heard correctly.” Sylus took out a coin from his pocket and began flicking it between his fingers.

I bit my lower lip, fighting for composure. The tension in the room was palpable. One wrong word and it would blow, causing a deadly explosion.

“I may be able to help.”

Sylus huffed a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Mr. Geoffrey is an old acquaintance of mine, you see.”

“And why would that information be relevant to me?” he replied, clearly unimpressed.

Hypnotised, I watched him play with the coin.

“Because I sold a property to him. I have access to the floor plans…and skilled men who know how to bypass the security system I set up for him.”

My father pulled out a small package and slid it across the table. Sylus looked up. Now he was interested.

“You stole a sample of one of his serums? Why?”

“Consider it a peace offering.”

“You are a fool if you think all will be forgiven because of this.” Sylus nodded at the package with his chin, then gestured for Luke and Kieran to take it. One of them snatched it off the table before my father could change his mind.

“Mr. Sylus… Let me be frank with you. I made myself very vulnerable by meeting up with you and I have no ill intentions, not tonight. I did this in good faith. My investors are not happy with me. My involvement with Onychinus has made them…wary of future collaborations.”

Sylus huffed another laugh. “That merely sounds like you are facing the consequences of your own actions. Were you expecting pity? Compassion?”

Compassion. He’d shown me compassion that night. But I was not my father. I was not here to strike a business deal. I was, apparently, here to look pretty and keep my mouth shut. It was in moments like this I resented the crudeness of my own flesh and blood.

My father shot me a brief look. He was desperate, I could see it glistening in his eyes. “Alright. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this but…how about we raise the stakes then?”

The stakes?

“An addition to your workforce, perhaps?” he went on. “My daughter is an excellent assistant to me. I’ve tasked her with many important missions in the past. She is reliable, resilient, and obedient.”

My heart skipped a beat, my stomach churning. Nausea crept its way up my throat, my limbs tensing. My own father…meant to sell me to Sylus? To Onychinus?

The shock and hurt must have been visible on my face. It was ironic, really, that my ability to keep a poker face was remarkably pathetic given the very place of this meeting.

Sylus’s crimson eyes flickered over to me before they focused on my father again. My own gaze followed him. There was no way he would agree to this. Sylus had shown himself to be nothing but a gentleman the last time we met. He’d respect my autonomy, he’d—

“Hmm. That does sound like a fair enough deal. I accept.”

What? My head whipped back in his direction, my eyes widening in pure horror. He…he couldn’t be serious now, could he? He wouldn’t let my father sell me to him like cattle…right? Right?

The man who was supposed to love and protect me turned to me. His hand felt heavy and sweaty when he put it on mine. “Go with him, sweetheart. Make me proud.”

“You’ve planned this all along.”

He nodded.

“How could you?” I choked out.

“Sweetheart…this is the N109 zone. It’s to kill or be killed. And you working for Onychinus? It will lift my reputation and respect tenfold. It won’t be too different from working for me, hmm?”

I should be surprised. Hurt. Heartbroken. And perhaps I was all of these things but instead, all I was able to feel was an uncomfortable numbness revealing to me what I had known for years without wanting to realise. My father had never truly loved me. I was a tool. A means to an end. Another mouth to feed that he was now finally rid of.

Sylus rose from his chair, flinging the coin in the air before catching it and letting it disappear in his pocket again.

“Come on, kitten. It’s getting late. Consider your name off my list. For now,” he added, addressing my father.

The twins approached me when I made no move to follow Sylus back outside and to his car. Their touch on my shoulders was surprisingly gentle. I wanted to cry. Wanted to ruin the makeup I had applied so meticulously only an hour before in order to please my father. Not a single tear was willing to escape my eyes though, not even when Sylus opened the door to the passenger seat for me and the all too familiar scent of his expensive car filled my nostrils. Moments later, we rushed through the streets as if we owned the place. In a way we did. Well, Sylus did.

I refused to take in the beauty and vastness of his home when we arrived. It reminded me of a gothic novel, one with mysterious counts and vampires luring in young women to keep them as playthings and living blood bags. Expensive art and antique furniture filled the place, our steps echoing all the way up to the high ceiling. I followed Sylus and the twins into what I assumed was both a lounge and a dining room.

Luke and Kieran placed the mysterious serum my father had retrieved on the table, removed the stopper, and gave it a little sniff before popping it back on.

“Now what?” I spat.

“Is it a fake, what do you think?” Sylus asked nonchalantly, ignoring my question entirely.

He… I gnashed my teeth. Why was he acting like I wasn’t even in the room?

“Looks genuine, Boss. We should have it checked though, just to be sure.”

Sylus nodded. “Leave it here for now. I’ll deal with it later.”

Three…two…one. I waited until Luke and Kieran had left the room before I all but threw myself at Sylus. This time, however, it was not to seek comfort and aid. This time, I was out for blood.

“You bastard!” I lashed out at him. “Why did you agree to this? Accepting me as a prize like I’m some sort of slave! I thought…I thought you were…”

Sylus’s reflexes were downright terrifying. He snatched my wrist before my palm got even close to his cheek, his red eyes darkening.

I gasped for air when he pushed me against the nearest wall and my back hit the golden frame of a painting, his large body pressed up against me and nullifying any chance at escape. Heavens, he was strong. I was well trained in martial arts, my father had insisted I learned to defend myself since my early childhood, but Sylus? Sylus could crush me. He wouldn’t even need to use his Evol for it.

“I agreed to your father’s proposal for your sake, kitten,” he growled. “Not for mine.”

“My sake? My sake? Am I supposed to believe that?”

“What kind of father bargains his own daughter away, kitten? You’re better off without him.” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as if my behaviour was sawing on his nerves. “I have half a mind to send you back. You are acting obnoxiously ungrateful.” I…I couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not.

“How dare you?” I spat.

“Am I wrong? Your father doesn’t strike me as the type you say no to. What was your life like, I wonder? Running errands for him? Constantly putting yourself in danger like that first night we met, disregarding your own dreams, your own needs, all in order to earn the love of a man who was never willing to grant it to you in the first place?”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” I struggled against his steel grip, hot and salty tears now finally threatening to spill and stain my flushed cheeks. Sylus was right. He was right about everything and hearing him speak it all out loud was so painful my knees gave up on me. It all came crashing down on me like a landmine. My father’s betrayal, my services being sold like a pint of milk in the supermarket, Sylus…Sylus.

My attempt to shove him away caught him off guard long enough for me to slide to the floor the very moment he reached for the next best thing to steady himself—it was the dining table, the small bottle containing the mysterious Evol serum an inch too close to the edge.

Sylus cursed when it tipped over. The twins must not have stuffed the stopper back in properly, for when it did, its liquid contents spilled all over the smooth surface of his mahogany table and his long fingers. It sizzled when it made contact with his skin, throwing bubbles and emitting smoke before eventually drying into his pores in the blinking of an eye.

“What happened? What did it do? Are you hurt?” I didn’t want to show concern for this man. I ought to hate him, despise him, loathe him… I blinked my tears away. I just…I couldn’t. There was anger, yes. But…there was something else too. It was that feeling again. That very same feeling that had already filled me from head to toe the very night I had wrapped my arms around him begging for his help. It was security. Security and…protection. Like I could put my life in his hands and he would cherish it.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled. Sylus shook his hand out as if that would help remove whatever substance had crawled under his skin, salvaged what was left of the serum, and then, finally, sank to the floor so we were eye to eye again, propping one knee up and resting his underarm on it. His dark red gaze met mine. He appeared to be…fine. Perhaps my father had lied and the serum was a fake after all.

“I suggest…a ceasefire for now.”

I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, wiping my eyes. My palms came back bearing black streaks from my makeup but I couldn’t care less. Nevertheless…I nodded.

“If you don’t want me as your assistant…does that mean…I’m free to go?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“You are not a prisoner here. Although, I would prefer to keep you around for a while longer. Your father will notice if you go straying again too soon, kitten.”

It took me a sharp inhale to process his words. Safe, a treacherous voice in my head whispered. You are safe with him.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” I wish you’d never stop calling me that. My heart skipped a beat whenever he did.

Sylus chuckled. “Don’t act like you hate it. You are…” He did not finish his sentence. My jaw dropped to the floor when he was suddenly stopped by a pair of fluffy brown cat ears springing from his white hair. They were quickly followed by a long tail of the same fur colour. Sylus tensed and gasped audibly.

“W-what is happening?” I choked out.

With one hand, he reached up to feel his ears, flinching when he realised that they were part of his body and…assumingly sensitive.

“So that’s what the serum does…” Sylus mumbled.

I gasped, covering my mouth with my palm to stifle a hysteric laugh.

“Who’s the kitten now, Sylus?”

Shit, this… This was all so…so absurd! All of it! This whole evening, me being here, Sylus turning into an Evol cat…could anything else go horribly wrong at this point?

My emotions turned into a bubbling cauldron full of uncertainty. It was overwhelming, to say the least. And I was getting tired of trying to figure out which feeling I wanted to give in to. Wiping the wet tears from my cheeks one last time, I sniffled and sat up, determined to not let fate get the better of me. I’d get through this. Somehow.

“I’m glad you’re amused.”

“You…you have no idea how much I needed this. You…you’re going to be okay though, right?”

“Of course I will. I just need to find out how to reverse the effects.”

“Why were you interested in this serum anyway? My father’s motivations I can understand, he’s in it for the money but you are…you are filthy rich already.” And the more I’m speaking to you, the more I’m realising you’re not the brutal and cold criminal I thought you were.

“There may be links to the usage of an Aether Core. That is all you need to know, kitten.”

I raised an eyebrow, half a smirk battling the sternness on my face. Truly, I couldn’t care less about Protocores. “I think you lost the right to call me that when you grew a pair of cat ears and a wagging tail, Sylus,” I said instead.

I paused, biting my lower lip. I made my decision there and then. I was safe. For now. And…I trusted him. I trusted Sylus enough to keep me alive and well and that had to suffice for now. I could deal with those strange butterflies awakening in my belly whenever he was near me tomorrow.

“I…I want to stay. And help you fix…whatever this is.” I reached up, scratching his left ear. My eyes widened when a little moan escaped his lips.

“That…is sensitive.”

Oh. Did…did he just growl?!

“You are welcome to stay, kitten. Nothing will happen to you here. Besides…I could use another assistant once I’ve sent Luke and Kieran off to find an antidote for…this.”

He whipped his tail in my direction where it wrapped around my waist. I cleared my throat. I was starting to feel a little cheeky now that I was certain that Sylus would keep his promise. Banter helped. Banter kept me distracted.

“I could be of great assistance indeed. I’ll clean your litter box every day, buy you fresh milk, brush your tail…and I’m more than happy to take you to the vet to get you checked for fleas.”

His gaze darkened. Evidently, my joke was not lost on him. Nor was the playfulness.

“You’re dancing on very thin ice, sweetie.” Sweetie? Now that was a new nickname. I decided I liked it just as much.

“I like to live on the edge. I… I hope you’ll compensate me adequately for my services though.”

Sylus crawled forward and pressed me closer against the wall with a start, almost as if his newly won feral instincts had taken over, ushering him into showing his affection by rubbing against me. I suppressed a moan. Being so close to him had my mind wander off into dangerous territory I was certain there was no coming back from. And to make matters even worse… Sylus’s crimson gaze now dropped to my slightly parted lips.

“Generously…” he whispered.

I’d gotten unlucky before. All my life, to be precise. Maybe today, the tables had finally turned.

[endless-ineffabilities]

in the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel

President Aemond Targaryen x reporter!reader

mini smutshots from the National Anthem series

🍒 18+ MINORS D N fucking I 🍒

a/n: may this serve as your lusty reprieve from the great shitshow that has been unfolding. This contains scenes scattered throughout the series, and may contain spoilers, but who are we kidding. We knew these things would happen. No taglist—this will find you I'm sure.

main masterlist

after Aemond wines and dines you, convincing you to take on the job

The ride back to his suite was torturous. He wasn't sure if he had ever been left desiring someone so much, after his fingertips dragged along the wet lips of your pussy.

Your panties were lodged in his pocket like some consolation prize.

He'd much rather have the real thing, much rather be thrusting deep in your throbbing walls. His pelvic bone slamming against your ass as he jackrabbits with wild abandon. You, his pretty girl, his angel, squirting all over him.

All over his desk. All over the pristine leather backseat of his car. All over his Lyseni cotton sheets.

All over his thick cock.

Finally alone, he leaned back in his chair, bringing the delicate fabric to his face, inhaling deeply as his other hand slid down, unzipping his slacks, freeing the ache that had been building the whole night.

The desk was littered with confidential files and pressing matters, but all he could focus on was you—and how much he wanted you there, spread across his desk, begging.

His grip on his cock tightened, knuckles whitening as he drew your lace panties closer, pressing them firmer against his face, savoring every lingering trace of you. The scent was intoxicating, clouding his mind with memories of your skin, the sounds you made when he almost had you.

He imagined you there, straddling him, back arched, your tits bouncing free from your stiff white blouse. You would plead for his hands on you.

His strokes quickened, his jaw clenched as he envisioned tearing the lace from your body, you in different yet equally tantalising positions.

A low growl escaped him as he came, hips jerking, his release hot and messy over his fingers, desperate satisfaction twisting into a smirk on his lips.

It won't be long until he had the real thing.

His angel, falling apart on his cock.

The President and yourself, one night in his palatial holiday estate

The silk of his tie was tight over your eyes, leaving you in total darkness as you lay sprawled on the bed, legs spread and wrists pinned above your head.

"Look at you, angel," he murmured, his voice husky as his fingers traced down your throat, feeling the way you trembled under him. "Completely at my mercy. Can’t see a damn thing, can you?"

You shook your head, breath hitching as his hand slid down, spreading your legs wide, controlling your every motion. Controlling you.

His lips dragging down your neck, he bit just hard enough to leave a mark. "You’re not touching me tonight, angel," he growled, his mouth wetly brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "All you get to do is lie there and take everything I give you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," you shakily whispered back.

With a wicked smirk, he slid the thick head of his cock against your drenched folds, dragging it up and down, coating himself in your slickness before finally plunging all the way in, stretching you wide with one unforgiving thrust.

"Aemond," you gasped, a shuddering moan leaving your lips as he filled you, every inch pushing you to your limit.

"Fuck, you’re perfect," he groaned, his hands on your hips in a bruising hold, keeping you in place as he pounded into you, hitting the soft spot in your walls, leaving you trembling. "Such a good little angel…"

"You feel that?" he hissed, his pace unrelenting as he drove into you harder. "That's what it’s like to be fucked by a man who can't get enough of you. Who's going to ruin you every damn time until you’re soaked and wrecked, begging for more."

President Aemond was just as fucking mouthy in bed as he was in those rallies.

But just like everyone else, you were entranced by him. You would eat up every single word.

Especially there, especially then.

His fingers found their way between your legs, circling your swollen clit, his touch skilled, ruthless, dragging you closer to oblivion with every flick.

"You're dripping for me, angel," he muttered. "So desperate for my cock, aren't you? Want me to fuck you so hard you can't even walk tomorrow?"

"Yes, Aemond," you gasped, each word a broken plea as he hammered home, his pace vicious. "Please… don't stop… Don't you dare fucking stop."

"Oh, I'm not stopping," he growled, practically splitting you open as he buried himself deep, until you were a writhing mess beneath him. "I'm going to fuck you... until your pretty pussy can't take any more."

And with a final, brutal thrust, he sent you over the edge, your release crashing through you in waves, leaving you breathless and shuddering, barely able to moan his name as he drove into you a few more times, his own release tearing from him with a guttural moan, his presidential seed coating your insides.

When he claimed your lips, tongue dragging along the outline of your mouth, he decreed, "You're mine, angel... Mine forever."

At the height of Aemond's campaign, in his office

Under the grand mahogany desk in his office, you were on your knees, Aemond's cock stretching your mouth as he lounged in his leather chair.

He had one hand buried in your hair, guiding you as he wanted. The heady taste of him filled you as you hollowed your cheeks, dragging your lips down his length, letting him hit the back of your throat with every stroke. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you fought to take every thick inch he fed you.

His angel, ever so eager to please.

"I wanna see you choke on my cock, angel. Take all of me. Like that... good girl."

Just as he let out a soft, restrained groan, the office door opened. You froze, your poor heart racing as you recognized the heavy footsteps that entered. Aemond's bodyguard, Steve, had stepped into the room, file in hand.

Aemond didn't even flinch. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his face impassive as he addressed Steve in a perfectly composed manner. "You have that report for me?"

"Yes, sir." Steve's voice was just as steady, but there was the slightest hesitation, a subtle shift in his voice that told you he knew exactly what was happening.

Aemond's fingers curled in your hair, urging you to continue. So you did, the notion of being discovered sending an undeniable thrill through you. You began to move again, tonguing his length.

"Just leave it on the desk, Steve," he said dismissively.

When Steve rushed out of the office, your Aemond resurfaced.

"You love this, don’t you?" he muttered, his composure slipping now that you were alone again. "Sucking me off... knowing someone could catch you, knowing they'd see how filthy my angel truly is."

Not long after, the warm, salty taste of him hit your tongue in hot and heavy spurts, filling your mouth.

He held you in place, refusing to let you pull away as he emptied himself down your throat.

You kept your lips sealed around him, your tongue pressed flat along the underside of his cock, feeling every shudder, every twitch as he spilled the last of his release.

"Fuck, fuck yes... my good girl."

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, but Aemond was quick in letting you know that he hadn't had his fill of you yet. Truthfully, he never would have enough.

Always needing you, always needing more.

His strong arms carry you sit on top of his desk, hitching your skirt up to reveal the glistening lips of your pussy.

It was his angel's turn.

And so the President got on his fucking knees, and devoured.

May the gods bless Westeros, indeed.

[muzanswaifu]

Bittersweet

Demon! Sanemi x Fem! Reader

18+

Request: "I have been waiting to read something like this for so long. Demon Sanemi craving blood because fem!reader is on her period, so yk he eats her out without mercy❤️"

Demon Sanemi is so mean I love hiiiim :3 Need me a man who would eat me out on my period 😒 Jk jk that shit gotta taste nastyyyyyyy

NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Non-con, Smut, Sexism, Kidnapping, Forced Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Menstruation, Blood Kink, Forced Orgasm, Kinda Gross ngl

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The rhythmic pitter-patter of feet echoes through the green, a slow churn of water thrumming with the flow of the current. Even the thick noise of crickets and wind couldn't drown out the hint of life found deep in the brush, the figurative curl of a finger beaconing him to draw closer, to close the union of rarity.

He took a breath. A deep one. Taking in the pungent scent of weak males. And a female.

Shinazugawa could nearly taste the delectable meat already, the flavor settling on his tongue and seducing his taste buds. Drool nearly threatened his mouth, but he withheld himself. He wasn't an animal. Not technically, anyway.

But he might as well be. Only an animal could hunt as he did, track as he did, kill as he did. But a beast was not nearly as precise as he was, not leaving even a scrap of evidence in his wake. Only the crime scene would be found, a gorey scene of bone and torn flesh, remnants of his well-earned meal. But only the males would wither...

As for the female -

Oh gods, did just the thought of it make him salivate, his very bones trembling with need. Her scent alone made him feel weak with hunger, his tongue curling with horrid intent. The fragrance was familiar to him, a vague memory of his past existence of rare blood, the same unique trait only serving as a grand pillar toward his success as a demon. Her blood ran the same, her veins full of the powerful elixir that his kind would quite literally kill each other for. But he had no need for such rivalry.

The path the cattle strode upon was a hidden one, veiled by a plentiful layer of wisteria about fifty feet aways on either side of the trail. The effort wasn’t so useless, he supposed. Perhaps it served useful against weaker demons of no rank, the fiends not yet powerful enough to develop some resistance to it. But his godly build was stronger, the frail flower only giving his skin a lingering sting. His hunger far outweighed it.

He had long stalked his prize. The demon had patience in these rare situations, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to make his efforts all the more worth it. It had been several moons ago that he’d first stumbled upon her delivery across these lands, his keen eye catching the lingering dust kicked up by the horses that pulled her carriage. Even back then, the chance had been perfect. The men were unknowing, all walls of defense down as the car came to a halt, surely one of exhaustion. Shinazugawa drew closer, only a breath away from finally feasting when his vision was obscured by a heavenly vision.

A small thing she was, her skirts nearly catching under her feet as she gracefully stepped down from her traveling abode. The moonlight shimmered brilliantly off her glazed skin as she bent her delicate neck back, stretching out the aching tightness trapped there. Her (h/c) hair was frizzy across the outline, the static from the summer heat pulling at the threads and giving them a coiled curl. His maw fell open with his amazement.

He’d come across several humans of marechi blood in his infinite lifetime, and most, if not all, were nothing much to look at, quite ugly in his opinion. They all bore the same simplicity and naïveté, their only unique trait being their delectable composition that gave them their sole purpose of feasting. But she was so drastically different.

Everything about this female sang rarity, her natural features reminiscent of that of ancient goddesses that mortal men could only wish to touch. But here she was. Within an arm’s reach, he could have her, do with her what he wished. He was nearly disgusted with himself, being far more captivated with his food than he should’ve been. Sparing her of death would’ve been such a waste of opportunity, one that even those lower than him wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to squander. Yet, his own self-doubt swallowed him as he drew back into the dark wood, letting her little toy soldiers bring her back to the safety of the nearing daylight.

He’d gorged himself after that, consuming soul after soul at a nearby village in an attempt to quench his own frustration and need. There weren’t many options to consider. He couldn’t spare the thing entirely, he wasn’t that fucking stupid, but he didn’t very much want her dead either. Turning her definitely wasn’t an option, women just didn’t have as much potential as demons, and he had his own personal beliefs that women shouldn’t dirty their hands. But dear gods, her scent, her smell alone probably called upon hundreds of demons to her location daily, perhaps it would’ve been a mercy to take the female’s life.

Fuck.

He hated himself for how indecisive he was. Not once in his entire demonhood had he been at such a crossroad of hesitance. There had to be another option that held the best of both worlds, yes? Shinazugawa just hadn’t come across it yet.

But fate gave him a hint as he snatched up the severed half of a female he’d killed, her guts spilling into his lap as he gnawed on her fat ankle. His daggered eyes trailed up her cold thigh, lining the dark trail of blood that seeped from under her skirt. A small confusion fell over him as he mulled over the strange placement. His blade’s cut through her navel had been clean, her blood pooling into the muddy grass and not at all staining much of her clothing. Yet the chain of red kept its existence, running into the conjunction of her thighs. Cursing his own curiosity, Sanemi swept the pesky material aside, only to be met with the brilliance of a cruel idea.

It hadn’t been hard at all to follow along the woman’s usual route of travel again, her men taking the same path,  ignorant of its dangerous discovery. Yet the timing was unfortunately off, her smell still sickeningly sweet and clean rather than bitter and dirty. He’d have to wait for next time. And the next. And the next. He’d nearly given up hope entirely until the fated night his lungs were filled with the metallic scent that had his belly tensing with primal famine. Just the mere aroma of ichor had drool gathering in his jowls, his fists clenching with need. It only grew thicker as her quaint carriage drew near, the clicking wheels singing a dreadful tune with each snap against the road. Sanemi could already taste the woman on his tongue, her savory flesh plump and tender between his teeth… god, he was going to lose it.

He nearly did as she stepped from her carriage in the same manner as their first meeting, her hair knit in tight braids across her crown, framing her delicate features. She was dressed more eloquently this time, Her gown long and loose yet hugging her figure with a gentle tightness. He mused to himself that perhaps she was on her way to some formal event to maintain appearances, maybe even earn herself a husband. Yet the notion of such a possibility irked him all the same. He’d never felt a hunger like this before, if one could even call it that. This felt so much more significant, crucial even, as if his very life depended on it. And maybe it did, since he would most definitely not let himself live if he couldn’t get even a single taste of her blood. Her body was his to take.

It took him no time at all to do away with the weaklings, the men’s bodies falling one after the other into the gravel, making a sad splash as their vitals funneled out. The man ogling at her backside was the first to go, his head severed the instant his eyeline met the wide curve of her dress, dropping to the ground with a thud and rolling to a leisure stop to her heel. When the woman finally turned from her distraction of the ominous wood, she was met with pure, bloody isolation.

Her horrified scream echoed loud, her hands clawing at her own face as she looked upon the gory scene of blood and guts that surrounded her. Shinazugawa was almost impressed at her reaction speed as she quickly turned foot and bolted, running through the thick bush despite her frailty. He couldn’t help but snicker, so enamored by her utter foolishness of trying to escape. If the men protecting her couldn’t even survive, what made her think she was the exception?

“God, you’re fucking stupid, ha!” he cackled, leaping about the tree-line, nipping at her backside but giving her just the right amount of space to let her hope she could get away.

She was not at all athletic, her stamina quickly dwindling as her frail figure fought with itself to continue on. Her chest burned, her feet hurt, her will to keep moving dwindling by the second and feeding into the persuasive idea of giving up. Yet the monster snatched her before she could choose, slamming her into the soft, melted ground and caking her elegance in earth. His hand wrapped around her pretty neck firmly, another snaking down her bodice and tearing open the gold buttons of her dress. His tongue swept across his lip as he unwrapped her, taking his sweet time to unveil every inch of her pristine flesh to his ravenous eye, her little fists pounding at his chest as she sobbed and screamed for help.

“Shut it,” Sanemi growled lowly, surprised to see her actually listen, her lip wobbling and eyes flooding as she silenced herself. He could still hear her pathetic whimpers as he stripped her, her small frame shaking as he brushed down her stomach, removing the lacy undergarments that hid her delicate body from his sight. He could see her plush intimacy coming into view from beneath her coverings, her curved hips thickening her figure, her thighs trembling as they tried desperately to hide themselves. But there was nothing that could be done about that now as she lied there, helpless, powerless, weak.

He opened his mouth wide, exposing sharp canines and letting his hot breath wash over her firm abdomen as her tears began anew and wept down her flushed cheeks. The demon was pleased, relishing in her surrender and submission as he gently ran his tongue down her navel, sampling his meal and savoring the girl's pitiful sobs. He loved it when humans cried, when they begged and pleaded for their lives like the weaklings they were, it made things so much more exciting.

His tongue flicked out over her pelvis, gliding over the pudge over her sex as he breathed in the scent of her musk, tainted with ovulation. Sanemi could already feel the saliva gathering in a jowls as he began to peel down her underwear, a cotton cloth clinging to the crotch of it. Her breath stuttered.

"N-no, no, please! Please... please!" she cried out, shaking hard and grasping at her own face, nearly clawing her eyes out with panic. But she knew better than to try to fight him off again, clearly more afraid of what he would do then than what he was currently doing. He couldn't help but grin against her supple flesh, his edged teeth nicking her thigh. She jerked at the sudden pain and the warm sensation of blood trickling down her leg, soaking into the dirt.

"P-Please, p-p-please don't... h-hurt me," her words shook with her exterior, her sniffling likely a strong persuasion to those who had a heart. He obviously didn't but was still bothered by her pestering fear of being eaten. "If I was going to eat you, don't you think I would have done it already?" he groaned sarcastically.. The human slowly removed her fingers to peak down at him, her eyes red and welled with tears, lip trembling. He laughed.

"I mean come on, you think I'd let you bitch and moan this long just to kill you later? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Quit fucking crying," he hissed.

She sniffled again. "B-but -"

"Zip it."

Her mouth snapped shut, quickly obeying before her brain could even comprehend him.

Sanemi growled. "Talk again and you get to join those fuckers back there." He nodded his head back to the direction of her abandoned carriage and dead guards. His claws dug into her thighs, pulling them to spread wider to encompass his presence. "The sooner you let me take what I want, the sooner I let you go. But I don't deal with brats. You either listen or you don't, 's up to you bitch."

He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but it definitely wasn't for her to spread herself wider, without any instruction. It was almost touching how quickly she gave in, not even needing a moment to think it over before she opened herself up for him to do as he pleased. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she were eager for it.

His head fell down to her core again, his fangs pricking the surface of her skin yet again, drawing forth a shallow line of blood as he slid them down her inner thighs, his eyes locked on her frightened yet curious gaze. She shivered at the sharpness of his touch, her legs trembling as he moved further south, trying to appease his hungered excitement. He resumed pulling down her panties, reveling in the aroma of moon blood that filled his senses as he took away all obstruction. It was beautiful. The smell of blood. The sight of red dripping from her puffy lips. He could only imagine the taste, so eager in his imagination of its excellence. He'd never tasted pure ovulation blood before, never even thought of it actually. It would be stupid to use just his tongue when he could devour with his teeth in an instant and move on to the next meal. But this was a different situation entirely. This woman could satiate him for years, decades even, with marechi blood. It didn't hurt that she was a hot piece of ass either. If he didn't get himself together soon, he might end up fucking his food as well.

The woman's eyes lingered on his leisure movements, the drawl of his dangerous eyes along her sex as he studied the meal. Embarrassment quickly rose in her chest as she realized his intentions, praying that he’d move on with whatever he was trying to do so her dignity could recover. Although, she supposed letting him taste her menstrual blood was better than getting eaten alive... but hardly.

The demon felt her pulse quicken in his grasp, her breathing growing faster and her patience dwindling as she began to quiver again. He didn't blame her though, not in the slightest. But he had every right to  such a rare female, he deserved everything. And if the needs of others were sacrificed, so be it. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist her for too long. He was ravenous.

And he was horny.

He smiled as his head dipped down, his tongue flicking out to smooth against her swollen clitoris, barely brushing the top as he inhaled the fragrance of her blood. Her legs trembled, her muscles tensing as her hips buckled in response, shocked with the sudden feeling of sensitivity. She had to bite her lip to silence her noise of surprise. He chuckled as he teased her, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, teasing her wet folds and leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He didn't really care for her pleasure at the moment, but he was curious of her response to it. Dinner and a show. That was fine by him.

She bit her lip harder, her thighs flexing to keep from touching him. Sanemi was excited at her reaction, watching her face contort with each and every careless stroke of his tongue, her hips subconsciously rising to feed herself into his awaiting mouth. A few times, she almost grabbed for him, but her arms were still pinned to her side by her own strong will to survive. He liked that, enjoyed her struggle as he continued to lick her up and down, her clit becoming more sensitive with each and every pass. Her blood was intoxicating, his head already growing dizzy as he drank her from the source. He thought it would be difficult to keep himself from biting down but the thought never even grazed his mind as he continued giving sloppy licks and sucks to her weeping heat. She was so tasty, so sweet, so ripe. It seemed like she would never stop bleeding as his tongue was eternally blessed with a fresh coat of red. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to drain her of it all in one night.

He growled, his head lowering down to her opening and his tongue falling out again as she whimpered in anticipation, eyes closed tight. She felt like she was losing her mind with every pass of his ravenous tongue. Her head was so foggy and light, her pussy so warm, she couldn't stop herself from letting out small noises of pleasure as he kept feasting upon her. It took every ounce of her being not to wrap her legs around his head and trap him into her center, forcing him to cease his cruel teasings. What little was left of her fear only heightened the experience, giving her a blissful taste of sin that she'd never indulged before, the sense of danger giving her such a rush.

Her ichor only grew sweeter on his tongue by the second, her slick diluting her blood in heavier batches that gave him more a taste of lust than power. He focused on her hole then, realizing that nipping at her clit certainly wasn't helping the situation. Yet, her pleasure rose none-the-less. His tongue worked hard, dashing inside of her, licking up every drop of liquor, drinking it down as if it were a fine wine. It was nearly too good to be true, this level of strength he felt. He looked down at the girl, his eyes burning into her as he watched her squirm and grip the earth. She was so delicious.

But he needed more.

His tongue pumped into her again and again, dipping as far as it could reach before retreating to her entrance to lick up anything that had escaped him. She shuddered, her hips subtly grinding on his face to chase her nearing end. It continued building in her belly, sending bolts of electricity up her spine and warming her insides. She couldn't even feel the pain of her cramps anymore.

Sanemi sipped at her wetness more vigorously, his tongue lapping at her like a dog, desperate for more of his meal. He slowed only for a moment as the woman gave a small cry, her hips and thighs quaking harshly and tensing in his palms. He wasn't even angry when her juices sprayed him, drenching his lower face and dripping down his lips. If anything he was amused, only a human could come from such little care. Yet, he stopped, her cunt hardly even bleeding anymore being so wet with arousal and relief. What was the point of pleasing her when he gained nothing in return.

He rose from his position on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes raked down her sloppy appearance, certainly not that of a noblewoman. Her backside was caked with mud, her hair messy and matted, her face red and mouth leaking with drool. She nearly looked peaceful as she let out gentle pants, still softly shaking from such a strong orgasm. He rolled his eyes.

"Get up," he commanded, uncaring of her condition. "I don't have all fucking night."

The woman only rose when his growls became violent, her movements awkward and her head still in the clouds. She still attempted to cover herself, tucking an arm over her breasts and cupping her sex with another.

"I'm only going to explain this once so I suggest you pay attention-" he began, her eyes quickly lighting up with fright, "You are going to come back to this path every month during your menses. You will come alone. No guards. No friends. No nobody. Understand?"

She squirmed nervously in her footing, her fear beginning to crest again. "B-but I-I won’t be a-allowed to travel for n-no r-r-reason..." she stuttered.

"Not my problem."

"A-and how would I come back without anyone to take-"

"Not. My. Problem." he hissed meanly, making her cower away.

He stepped forward to her, towering over her little form. "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm just telling you what you're going to do. I don't give a fuck how you're gonna do it, but if you know what's good for you, you'll obey. You want anyone else dead because of you?" he sneered.

Her lip quivered and tears glazed in her eyes. "N-no."

Sanemi chuckled, looking down at her and pressing a strong hand over her lower belly and brushing away her small hands, dangerously close to her privates that were still glazed with his saliva.

"This is mine," he stated, passing two fingers between her puffy cunt lips, "Give it to anyone else and I'll kill them and make you watch. I'll make it slow too. You want that?" She violently shook her head, nearly on the cusp of pissing herself from the terror of such a suggestion.

He hummed with his approval of her response, giving her another once over with his eyes and a quick squeeze of her breast before backing away into the night, undisturbed with how on earth she was going to get back home. It would've been any second that he could lose control of himself and pounce, a desperate need growing in pants to satiate himself. He'd have to establish that as another rule - no fucking when she was edible. Maybe he'd pay her another visit later when her period was over, at her estate perhaps, just to take away her innocence and test out how useful she was to him. He could only imagine how pathetic she would look speared on his cock with nowhere else to go, but that would be for another night, he couldn't forget her main purpose.

And he couldn't wait to get a taste of that again.

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@acehyacinth

@chaik1

@tomiokas-lunchbox

@walkingtravesty97

@keimuras

@akazaapologist

@prostheticmind

@doumakiss

@uchihabucketlist

@tired-writer04

@magoliaomega

@bishishbored

@animeblog123

@sparklyphantom

@vividelreyy

@ledafox

@that-bih

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[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Title: Dreams Come True

Summary: Kylian's presentation in Madrid

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x wife!reader

Warnings: none

You arrived in Madrid in the early hours of the morning. The aim was to rest before the presentation, but Kylian hardly slept. You understood his nervousness. It was a big day.

Kylian was in the bathroom brushing his teeth as you rummaged through your suitcase looking for your house slippers.

"Mon mari, have you seen my slippers?" You asked.

He stood by the bathroom door, "Non, mon amour."

"Ugh, they're not here. I must have left them at home," you said in frustration.

"You can wear mine," he offered.

"But yours are too big," you say.

"You know what they say about a man with big feet," Kylian winks at you.

You made a disgusted face, "that's gross."

"You were not saying that when I was putting that baby inside you," he grins.

You gasp and throw a shirt at him. He dodges and laughs, then walks back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

You ended up wearing Kylian's slippers anyway. You took a shower and got dressed.

You sit on the bed and put your shoes on. When you were done you stood up and ran your hands over your dress.

You looked at Kylian trying to put his wristwatch on but failing because his hands were shaking. You walked over to him, took the watch from his hand and fastened it around his wrist.

"Merci," he said. You could hear the nerves in his voice.

After securing the watch on his wrist you placed your hands on his shoulders, "What's wrong?" You asked him.

"I'm nervous," he said.

"I know, it's a big day" You validate his feelings. "Change is never easy and it's often scary, but it's necessary. That's what happens when we grow. You're going to be amazing love. Just be yourself." You said.

You drew circles on the nape of his neck with your finger. You knew it would relax him. You felt him sigh, his shoulders dropped and he smiled.

"Better?" You asked him.

He nodded, "better."

"Now, let's go get your dream," you held his hand as you left the bedroom.

You met the rest of the family in the living room. They were waiting for you. When they saw you, they greeted you then you all piled into the car and left.

You stayed with Kylian's parents as he went through the formalities, medical checkup, meeting the other players and the press conference. 

Despite his nerves in the morning, he did excellent.

The moment that took the cup for you was when he showed up in his Real Madrid kit at the stadium. You were floored when you saw him. You couldn't help the happy tears that fell from your eyes. His mother sat next to you crying as well.

You remembered what he had been through the past couple of years, especially in the previous months. But every moment led to this.

The stadium was filled to the brim. Cheers of excitement were in the air. Kylian had fun interacting with his fans. He looked so happy. He was living his lifelong dream and you felt like the luckiest woman in the world sharing these moments with him.

After the long day the family had a celebratory dinner in the evening then you went home.

You took off your shoes as soon as you entered the bedroom. It was a long but good day.

You threw your purse on the bed and went to the bathroom mirror to remove your makeup and earrings.

When you got back into the bedroom Kylian was sitting at the edge of the bed. The smile he had all day was still there.

You walked over to him and stood between his legs. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer. You cupped his cheeks and bent down to kiss his lips.

"I'm so proud of you," you spoke softly.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said.

You stood up straight and massaged his ears.

"It feels like a dream," he looked at you with tears in his eyes.

"You deserve it, bébé. You've worked so hard and now it's paying off. You are an inspiration to me and many kids out there."

"I'm scared," he confessed. This is the side he never showed to his fans, only to you. "What if I mess up? After the Euros-"

"Hm-hm," you shook your head to stop him. "That is in the past. This is a new beginning...for all of us," you placed a hand on your belly, referring to the baby growing inside. "Now I want you to focus on your game. Remind Real Madrid why they wanted you for so long. Don't stress about anything else. I'm here for you."

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

"You're welcome, mon amour. Now get some rest, the future awaits."

You kissed his lips one more time and you moved away from him so you could get ready for bed, but he called for you.

"Mon amour,"

"Hmm?" You turned back to him.

He stood up and walked towards you. When he reached you he held your hands in his.

"I know leaving everything to come here to support me was not easy. I want you to know that I really appreciate you and everything you do for me. Je t'aime," he said.

"Je t'aime aussi, (I love you too)" You hugged him tight.

Afterwards, you both got ready for bed.

Kylian didn't fall asleep immediately. He was reflecting on the events of the day. He was finally where he wanted to be. He turned on his side to face you. You were fast asleep with your back facing him.

He put his arm around you and pulled you close to him. You unconsciously snuggled into him. He kissed your cheek and settled behind you. He was grateful to have you with him.

You stood by him through the ups and downs. You were always patient with him and loved him to the best of your abilities even when he wasn't the best husband. He couldn't imagine having any other woman besides him.

He knew that with you by his side, he could conquer anything.

[extra-stout-stories]

Buffet Date

When fatphobic tourists with a dark secret interrupt a lovely dinner date, an SSBHM defends his lover from both social and supernatural hostility. Part three of the series that began with Werewolf / Sweater Weather and continued with Full Moon. (SSBBW, SSBHM werewolf, buffet stuffing, romantic but no explicit sex. CW: Exhibitionism, protagonist is victim of fatphobia, werewolf-on-vampire violence.)

The stories that I enjoy writing the most are the ones that come to me in a single flash of inspiration. When I saw the "Bulging Bimbo" prompt for day 30 of Feedist Kinktober 2024, I immediately imagined the SSBBW from "Werewolf / Sweater Weather" getting dressed up in a skimpy outfit for a buffet date with her werewolf lover, who has to defend her from fatphobic vampires. Obviously.

I decided not to use "Bulging Bimbo" as the title, but this is canonically a Kinktober story. Writing about this couple is a lot of fun.

If you'd like to inspire me with a story suggestion, anon asks are always open. I can't promise a response, because not every prompt gives me that telltale flash of inspiration, but a lot of my most popular stories originate with asks that did, so get in my inbox and see what happens. 😈

CW: This story contains descriptions of the protagonist being subjected to fatphobic taunts, so please don't read to the end if this theme will upset you. However, the first half works as a cute and non-explicit buffet stuffing story with some exploration of the relationship between shame and kink. If that's what you're in the mood to read, stop before the section break with the paragraph that ends "heat rising on top of heat."

And remember, reblog (don't just like) if you enjoy it.

--

"Careful tonight. If you get much fatter, I'll have to drive you home in the bed of the truck."

"That a challenge?" She grinned, her hand on his belly, feeling it shift and jiggle as he steered the car into the parking lot of the buffet. "You know I can turn the tables, right? If I get you going you'll eat so much that you won't be able to walk back to the truck. And then I'll have you at my mercy."

"Right there in the buffet?" He laughed and put the truck into park, then turned towards her for a kiss, their bellies touching as they spilled over the center console. "You're an exhibitionist, but you're not that much of an exhibitionist. How about a compromise? We'll take turns. You get us a tray, then I get us a tray."

"Only one tray for each of us? I'll starve!" She stuck her tongue out playfully and darted in for a second kiss. "You have to say, 'then you get us another tray, then I get us another…'"

"Okay, okay. Infinite trays for each of us. Just be sure to load my plate up with mashed potatoes when it's your turn."

"It's a date." Grunting, she slowly lowered herself out of the truck, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself. Fortunately, he had gotten a parking spot not far from the entrance. As she walked around the front of the truck, he slipped his hand into hers and she leaned against him, feeling the softness of her exposed belly brush against his jeans.

Apart from her shoes and undergarments, the only things she wore were a pair of Daisy Duke shorts and a white blouse tied up at the waist to expose the hang of her belly. All of her belly was on display, a great slab of rolling softness swaying back and forth as she moved slowly towards the door of the buffet, feeling his grip release as he ran a palm up her back rolls and drew her in even closer with a powerful arm around her pillowy shoulders. She sighed with contentment and felt a little shudder of excitement pass through her.

They didn't come in to town often. Once or twice a week to shop for essentials, and he usually handled that; she had plenty to do around the homestead, and plenty of home-cooked snacks to eat when her chores were done. The town had grown since she moved in with him, and she could tell that he didn't like watching several acres of "his" forest disappear underneath a strip of big box stores; sometimes it left him feeling melancholy and she'd soothe him with a kitchen table full of her baking, followed by a long back and belly rub and ending in sex.

But he understood that the world was changing, and the progress that had come to his little corner of the wilderness had some advantages.

Like the buffet. There were several national fast food chains on the strip, but the buffet was local, owned by an old friend he'd known for years who had spotted a business opportunity when they first widened the artery road to make room for new development. It was a running gag that when the two of them walked in the owner would give an exaggerated sigh, tug mournfully on his beard and look at them with pleading eyes: "Please, don't let today be the day you two put me out of business. My cooks can only make so much at a time."

Then he'd break out in a grin and lead them to their favorite table, pulling out two chairs for each of them and winking as he walked back to the register. "Eat up tonight."

"You know we will." He smiled at the departing owner, then hefted himself back up from the chairs for the first trip to the buffet table.

By tradition, he filled the first plates for both of them. Like a boulder covered in dough, she thought to herself as she watched him move, almost as wide as he was tall, taking up space both vertically and horizontally. His upper arms quivered in the sleeveless leather motorcycle vest, a hint of belly peeking out from the t-shirt he wore underneath. It took him a few minutes to fill two plates up with a sample of everything on the buffet menu. It was an eclectic selection of dishes from a dozen different cuisines: roast beef and popcorn chicken, lo mein and baked ziti, crab rangoons and fried wontons, not to mention a half-dozen different cakes and pies on the dessert table.

And the mashed potatoes, of course. The house specialty. Soaking with butter, fragrant with rosemary, pungent with fresh-picked garlic that the owner grew himself on a plot just outside of town.

He seated himself on the chairs and she watched his belly put just a little more pressure on the vest as his t-shirt rolled up just another half-inch. He grinned. "Dig in."

The first round of plates went down easily for both of them, and so did the second. They had big appetites. She loved to cook for him, but she also loved the feeling of eating in his presence when they went out together in public. He could keep pace with her effortlessly, bite for bite, and this made her feel less self-conscious about her own appetite and her own size. Of course we're fat when we eat like this, a comforting voice in her mind seemed to say at those moments, and that's okay. I don't need to worry about being skinny to feel attractive. He thinks I'm hot -- and he's the hottest guy alive.

Sometimes in those moments she'd catch his eye and know he was thinking the same thing. The hunger on his face was for her as much as it was for food. His eyes would trace the softness of her belly as it quivered exposed in her lap. They'd lock in on the way her arms quivered as she lifted another forkful to her lips. Hungry eyes. Hunter's eyes.

He was looking at her now as she took a bite of crab rangoon. He smiled, his fat cheeks dimpling. She smiled back. She felt a warmth begin to spread beneath her belly.

Of all the feedist fantasies they shared, exhibitionism had been the hardest for her to open up to. She had tried it on her own a few times, long before she met him, long before they moved in together to the homestead at the edge of the world. But her arousal then had been at war with her discomfort, eating alone at a restaurant table, knowing that hostile eyes were on her. The shame was hot -- I'm a fat girl going back for seconds, she'd think to herself, and thirds and fourths, and she'd feel that mounting excitement at the recognition that each bite was going to make her even fatter -- but it was also painful. Lonely. She loved the way her body looked, but only in secret, and the world had a thousand ways to make clear that it didn't share her judgment.

And she'd never have dared to eat like this with her belly out. Not before she met him.

But in his presence she felt safe to do it. Safe in the presence of a fellow fat person, another supersized glutton who knew what it was like to face the pressures of a hostile world. Safe in the presence of a man who shared her appetites. Safe, too, because she knew he could be ferocious.

On a night like this, with the moon just a tiny sliver in the summer sky, she could barely see it. If she hadn't been his lover, hadn't known it so well, she wouldn't have seen it at all. When the moon hid itself, this side of him hid itself too. But it was there. An occasional gleam in his eye, a savagery in the set of his teeth as he tore greedily into a bite of meat. A strength and a hunger more than human, showing themselves in the subtle motion of the powerful muscles beneath his swelling rolls of fat.

Wolf blood.

Tonight, though, he was almost all human, her cheerful partner and adoring lover. He gave her belly a playful squeeze as she slid past him for her third turn loading up plates as the buffet, and she smiled and blushed.

By the time he went back for his fifth round of plates, their eating was as much about foreplay as nourishment. Their breath was growing shallower and more ragged, their movements slower. She watched his t-shirt slide higher up his belly, watched the buttons of his vest strain even further. She felt her own belly, full and heavy, and reached a hand to rub it, half for relief, half to seduce him. His eyes watched her fat fingers as they slid across her pale, doughy flesh. His lips pulled back slightly in excitement. Sex in public was a step too far for both of them, but she could feel him mentally undressing her. Just like hers, his arousal had been building as their bellies filled, heat rising on top of heat.

Then she heard something that turned her heat to a chill.

--

"Holy shit, look at them."

It was a voice with a nasal sneer, coming from somewhere behind her. It was followed by another voice, a smarmy snicker. "Oh my god."

He heard it too. She could see his face harden suddenly, his eyes narrow. She willed herself not to turn around. Her face was red now, but red with shame. Even here…

"I thought we were going camping, not whale watching." A third voice, this one female. A round of laughter.

She watched his face harden further.

"Look how many trays they have! They've been at this all day!" The first voice again. "Well, at least we know this buffet has plenty of pork."

She was trembling with embarrassment. He reached a hand out and took her wrist, his powerful grip gentle, soothing her. She felt relief then, the relief of his calm, steady presence. He didn't look embarrassed.

"They're making fun of us."

He nodded. "They are." The smile was gone from his face. "They're making fun of us. And it's not just that."

Slowly, her lower lip still trembling, she turned to cast a glance back at the trio of diners at the table behind her. Tourists. All three of them impossibly pale, impossibly stylish, impossibly gaunt. Not intending to, she caught the eye of the woman -- a cold, judgmental eye in a pale, angular face like sheets of jagged marble.

The woman sneered at her. She felt his grip tighten on her wrist.

"They shouldn't be here. And they shouldn't be looking at you like that."

He had the hunter's eyes now, gold and gleaming, some sort of ancestral instinct drawing power down into him. She could almost see it, as if the sliver of moon outside the window were casting a beam of silver light directly into his chest, filling him, strengthening him. His grip tightened again, barely, imperceptibly. Then he let go.

"They smell wrong."

He stood up from the table.

His breath was slow and heavy. His belly was full, she knew. He could move fast when the change took him, but his belly was still full. He moved slowly towards the trio of tourists, and for the first time she could detect a hint of fear in their faces.

"What did you just say about us?"

The taller of the two men had a pallid, funereal face. His voice was arrogant. "We're just taking in the sights. I didn't think there were hippos this far north. Or are you some kind of bear?"

His companions laughed, but she could hear nervousness behind the laughter as her lover continued to move slowly towards them, steadily looming larger over their table.

The second of the men was just as pale as his companions. He wore his hair in a quiff and was wearing sunglasses indoors. He put up his hands. "W-we… we didn't mean it. We don't want any trouble." She could see the woman beginning to inch her chair back.

"Trouble?" Her lover's voice was a low growl. "You're already in trouble. What are you doing here?"

"C-camping…" the shorter of the two men stammered out nervously, but his companion cut in, his voice still nasal and arrogant, a smirk on his face. "Hunting. I'm told the hunting is good here. We're going for a hunt in your lovely little town." His smirk widened.

Suddenly the man was looking directly at her, eyes locked with hers as his smirk drew back into a grin.

There were fangs behind his lips.

"I'm hungry tonight. Perhaps I'll hunt some pork."

Before she could even blush, her lover lunged across the table, hundreds of pounds of bulk in impossibly swift motion. The table crashed to the floor and the three tourists were on their feet, moving faster than she ever thought possible. The woman became a bat. The shorter man became a blur of red mist. But the taller man drew a long knife from underneath his jacket and grinned even wider. "Yes, I'm very hungry tonight. Pork, make it rare. Boar, too. I'll have you both for dinner. And unlike you two pigs, I won't gain a pound." His arms were long, lean, gaunt as he began to bob and weave with the knife, advancing on her lover.

But he leapt back, dodging the knife, keeping his distance as he backed towards the buffet table. He's really full, she thought to herself. Even if he changes he won't move fast.

The rest of the diners were on their feet now, some sprinting for the door, others backed against the wall. All eyes were on the enormously fat man at the buffet table and the unbearably gaunt man with the knife, coiled to strike, advancing towards him.

He leapt, like a blur of white marble holding a blade.

There was a crash, metal on metal.

The knife slipped from the gaunt man's grasp as it hit the bottom of the steam tray that her lover held like a shield in his two hands. Then he gave a swift kick and the gaunt man dropped.

The steam tray was already mostly empty, its contents spilled all over the gaunt man writhing on the floor. Fresh mashed potatoes, steaming hot.

Soaking with butter.

Fragrant with rosemary.

Pungent with fresh-picked garlic.

The whole room seemed to smell of garlic as the gaunt man snarled, his elegance and beauty gone now, just a pale, knobby, wretched creature with nothing but malevolence on his face. Vampire. Blood-sucker. Nosferatu.

"Get out." Her lover's bulk heaved with fury as he loomed over the vampire. "Get out now."

"You heard the man." There was the sound of a shotgun being racked. It was the owner of the buffet, standing in the door of the kitchen. "There's silver buckshot in these shells. Get the hell out of my restaurant and never come back."

Slowly, cravenly, the vampire stood. A slight glamour began to return to his face, making him handsome again in his gaunt, lean way, but there was fear in his eyes now, and he backed away. A bat fluttered by his shoulder and became a woman. A red mist solidified to become a man.

"Let's go. Come on. You were right, this town isn't good hunting." They seemed to creep out the door. A moment later, an engine started and a car sped away.

With her practiced eye, she could see the change receding from her lover. He was human again.

The owner lowered his shotgun. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little shook up. Hard to move fast on a full belly."

"I should have known they were vampires when they walked in. I'm not as sharp as I used to be."

Her lover grinned at his friend. "That's because you traded your spellbooks for cookbooks. And checkbooks. Hard to keep up with the supernatural when it's hard enough keeping up with inflation."

The owner relaxed. "Guess so. Thanks for driving them out. This meal's on me."

"Thanks. I think I just worked up an appetite." He smiled. "But I spilled the mashed potatoes. Could you make another batch? And some fresh coffee, too."

"You got it." The owner sighed. "When the cops come, I'll tell them it was drunk tourists making trouble. No one got hurt. And at least they won't show up on anyone's camera."

As the owner left for the kitchen and the other diners began to filter back in, he stood behind her chair and put his arms on her, massaging her shoulders and neck as she slowly relaxed. "You okay, sweetheart? I'm sorry about what they said."

She smiled up at him. "Just a little shook up. But I knew I was safe with you."

"Good." He leaned down for a kiss. "You look hungry. What should I get you while we wait for the mashed potatoes?"

"Dessert." She slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled his face closer. "And after we shut down this buffet… dessert."

"Okay, but I don't think I can wait until we get home. Let's park in the woods and you can start by giving me a belly rub in the bed of the truck."

She smiled. "Sounds perfect. But you'd better take that coffee black. I'm going to keep you up all night."

[quitealotofsodapop]

Some Tang-y asks;

Both asks referencing; this previous about Tang realising his buddies are the Monkey King and the Six Eared Macaque + he's the godfather to their upcoming baby.

Tang is freaking tf out after the shock/fainting wears off. His academic career has revolved around the Journey to the West and connected mythology. Even as a lowly libarian who does mythology talks on the side, even he recognises that this is historical Iridium. He has *The People Who Were There* in his apartment (eating his chips)!!

Afterwards he has a moment of; "Oh gods, I've pretty much adopted the Monkey King." since he's been helping the monkeys learn how to read/write in modern chinese and generally giving Wukong life advice in the manner of a father-figure (all mid-twenty years of him).

And although he def shares all his secret wuxia and isekai fantasies with Macaque (fantasy nerd to theatre nerd communication); he certainly didn't expect to end up like This.

Tang knows he at least has a genetic link to the historical Tang dynasty - something he isn't really proud of since he's been kicked out by his parents. But with all the Monkey King stuff starting to pile up, he wonders...

Then he gets kidnapped by a firey toddler calling him "The Tang Monk", and is told to help out in a super specific ritual that requires the skill of an enlightened sage. Tang faints in the backseat of Red Son's mini-car when the penny drops. His frantic call to Pigsy straight afterwards is a babbling info-dump that sounds more like a cicada screaming.

Bonus ask!: Did Wukong *know* that Pigsy and Tang were reincarnations of his friends?

Sort of.

You see, after the Harbringer accidentally got sealed in Macaque (and the shadow monkey was still passed out); Wukong asked Guanyin to help him seek guidance from his old master - since he isn't exactly able to contact the Pure Lands himself. Guanyin tries calling up the Golden Cicada and... she appears to a confused, bleary-eyed Tang in the noodle shop at like 11pm. Even the bodhisattva is confused. Tang Sanzang/Tripitaka was supposed to be the last Golden Cicada incarnation. Tf is he hanging out on earth for?

Guanyin mentions this fact to SWK, and Wukong has a heart-stopping second of "Oh sweet buddha, Master is alive!!", before the goddess confirms otherwise. Wukong is super-confused, and a little disappointed, but really wants to seek out this new version of the GC even if for his own comfort. He's given a vague direction of where his master's soul is now residing, and the bodhisattva doesn't discourage him from following it. Wukong does hide his main reason for hiding in the city when Mac wakes up.

Eventually as the duo are ducking the sight of curious local demons/human (the meteorite and battle on the mountain def drew attention), Mac and Wukong bump into a strangely famililar face...

You see, after Tang literally glimpsed at the Goddess of Mercy, he became super-awake and rambled to Pigsy about his vision. Pigsy, despite being dismissive of most magic talk, thought that his suspicions of the meteor shower being a "sign" could be correct. The two went downstairs to eat/talk about what Tang's vision of Guanyin could mean.

Ironically, it's Pigsy who catches the monkeys walking down the street. He'd gone out to grab something from the convenience store and saw the two young, kinda skinny-looking, monkey demons arguing and trying to dodge the rain. The ginger-haired of the two shielding the darker-furred one with an old cape.

Pigsy has a moment of "No. No no no no. Good samaritan sh*t only gets you hurt." before he recognises something off about the two "kids" words. And with Tang's talk about having a vision of the Goddess of Mercy...

"Mihou": "This is all your fault!" "Wu": "How is it all my fault?!" "Mihou": "You put this... this thing in me! Now we've got no money, our magic isn't working, we can't go home, and we don't even have shelter for the night! I'm so..." *crying* "I have no idea what to do Wu..." "Wu", holding the other's face: "Hey, hey, it's ok Mihou. We'll figure this out." *presses foreheads together* "I won't let anything happen to you or the ki... guess it's too early at the moment. Egg, I guess?" *goofy, hopeful smile* "Mihou", sniffling: "You're so dumb."

They hear a cough beside them and turn. Wukong looks at the face illuminated by the neon of the storefront like its wearing a halo. It can't be!

Pigsy, holding grocery bags: "Hey... you kids sound like you're in a tough spot right now. If you need a roof over your head 'til the rain eases off, my restaurant is around the corner. Door's opened either way."

Wukong happily jumps at the offer, seeing the familiar glow of his pilgrim brother's soul resting warmly in the cook's body. Macaque is super sus of the situation; he kinda recognises the face infront of him but he just knows it isn't Zhu Bajie. The tired, sincere look on the demon's face is far too unalike the greedy gluttonous fool he'd seen getting his King into so much trouble. Just for now will he trust only his instincts - which at the moment wish for him to get dry.

Wukong sees it as a sign from the Buddha. Clearly someone is looking out for them. Even if this isn't Zhu Bajie, and the man inside the noodle shop isn't his master, then something in the Pure Lands or Diyu has shifted to allow them to reunite in this life - just in time for the King's heir responsibility to be brought into the world.

And then Pigsy ruffles his hair? Calls him "kid"? And then Tang is helping him with his writing? And telling him all the stories he's heard a million times in a way thats never boring?

Wukong feels queasy in a good way. He doesn't know how to describe it. He cries when he sees the silly mock shop logo he drew pinned to the corkboard by the kitchen - pinned amongst the pig-chef's most prized moments in his cooking journey. He doesn't know why he's crying but it feels like something he's been left out of for so long... thats the moment he decides that Pigsy and Tang (+Sandy) would be the godparents of the Egg. He just knows they'd all be great parents cus they already are.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

I was SO inspired by this post, I've been thinking about it literally all day. Elana belongs to @that-one-thespian!!

TWs: burning mention, knife mention, torture, kidnapping, self-sacrifice, recapture (sorta??)

Mariano hummed to himself as he shifted gears, feeling the rumble of his car's tires against the dirt road. His phone felt like it weighed an impossible amount in his pocket, just waiting for him to pull into the driveway to break the news to the team about what was happening. Elana wasn't going to be happy with him, but this was necessary.

Marito, come to the attached address. I want to talk. It's been too long. Luis

Mariano knew what was waiting for him 3.7 miles away. Luis had never been one for tricks, not really, but Mariano knew what a talk meant when he wasn't your ally. A blowtorch, and a table, and a knife were waiting. Not ropes. Not restraints. He didn't need those anymore.

It wouldn't be pleasant, but it would get Elana back alive and in one piece.

She would be okay. She would even be able to drive if needed. It was the best case scenario--especially since if the rest of the team got involved, more people would get hurt. Luis knew their phobias. He'd been merciful so far; Elana hadn't been tied beyond what was necessary to keep her in the old, rickety trailer. There were no cages yet, no blindfolds or muzzles or freezers or water basins.

Mariano would make sure it stayed that way.

He turned down the dirt road, the landscape growing ever more rural by the minute. No one would be around to help. That was for the best. When he finally screamed, he wouldn't have to worry about getting the police called.

Mariano eased his car into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the weight of his sedan, and put it into park. He pulled out his phone. He called Archer.

It went to voicemail.

"Hi, Archer." Mariano's voice was soft and sweet as he started talking. "You're not going to be happy with me, and I'm sorry. Luis caught Elana, and he wanted to make a deal. He just wants me for an hour or two in exchange for only roughing her up. I'm sending you the address, it'll take you guys about an hour and a half to get here, but there's a shortcut on exit 35 northbound if you're worried. I love you, and I promise I'll see you in a little bit."

The sound of the call ending felt like signing his own death certificate.

He was being dramatic. This wasn't anything that would kill him, though, Mariano knew that. Luis was a man of his word. Mariano had done this before, every time he walked into the training room. Luis just wanted to torture him.

There would be a blowtorch, a table, and a knife. Mariano could do this. He stepped out of his car and pocketed his phone again. He didn't bother locking his car as he walked up the wobbly steps to the front door and knocked.

Luis greeted him with a smile. Behind him in an armchair sat Elana, cuffed and bound and bruised, the fury in her expression melting into horror and understanding. "Ah, Marito!" Luis drew him into a hug that Mariano returned. He smelled like lighter fluid and pain, just how Mariano remembered. "So good of you to join us. Elana said you wouldn't make it, but I thought I still knew you."

Mariano laughed, easy as he stepped inside. "Yes, yes, you know me, Luis." He sent an apologetic smile towards Elana.

"Now," Luis said, easing the front door shut again and flipping the deadbolt. Elana started to struggle harder, muffled shouts ringing through the air. "Mariano, tell me: do you prefer your arms or your legs?"

[griefabyss69]

Grief's Big LARP AU Post

Bonjoureee, here is my on-going list of installments for my LARP AU!

Titles are tumblr links and AO3 links are beside them. Start with the first fic! This is all one story.

» Last Man Standing - 15.6K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: N/A Tags: Eddie Teaches Steve D&D, Blowjobs, LARPing, Sexual Roleplay, Tattoos, Fanart

I drew fanart for this one <3

Steve asks Eddie to teach him how to play D&D.

Eddie has no idea what’s in store for him as Steve throws him for a loop, making the game into something that changes Eddie on a molecular level, if his dick is to believed. Excerpt:

Steve puts up a good fight, and Eddie puts up a fight that would make a wet sock look heroic in comparison. Eddie's only got five HP left when he changes tactics, not ready for his character to be dead already.

"Blood running down from under his hat, his gasping to catch his breath, winded from this battle, my character holds up a hand. He implores of you, 'Please, have mercy and spare me from death, let me continue on my journey and I shall give you my mace.', what do you do?"

Steve blinks at him, surprise ebbing away as he mulls it over, pencil tapping against his chin.

Eddie gets up to refill his glass with water, taking the time to stretch a bit as he waits.

"I hold the tip of my sword at his throat, looking him over," Steve says, catching his attention. He gives Eddie a little smirk, one that's barely there but is somehow way sexier than any other expression he's made before. "And I tell him, 'I'll spare your life under one condition'."

» Interlude - 6K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Semi-public sex Tags: Pre-Relationship, Car Sex, Oral Sex, Humiliation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, In Public

Eddie and Steve do it again, this time without any roleplaying, and in Steve's car instead.

Excerpt: "Do you want to pull over so I can blow you or should we wait until after you take me to the diner?" He asks, allowing himself to be presumptuous about a few things.

Steve's mouth opens and closes a few times before he looks around, using his turn signal even though the road is empty and has been empty for a while, pulling over to the side of the road.

"Guess that's your answer," he says, putting the car in park and shutting it off. "Crack your window."

They roll the windows down an inch and Eddie gets Steve's dick out before he's even unbuckled his seat belt, not caring that it hits him in the face when he does get it undone. Any injuries that occur here are a badge of honor and something to poke at while jerking off, no matter how stupid they are.

» Stargasm - 11K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: LARPing, Bondage, Nipple Play, Sexual Roleplay, Anal Fingering, Cum Slut Eddie Munson, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Humiliation

After they recover from their interesting night in Steve's car, Eddie and Steve get up to some more LARPing, this time with Steve as the Demon King who bests Sir Eddie the Banished Knight.

Eddie's still not sure where they stand in their relationship, but it feels good to be with him, and the time they spend after the hot sex is really nice.

Excerpt:

"Also," Steve's saying, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts about what Steve would look like with a real demon tail. "Since you liked it so much in the car, I was wondering that if I defeat you... could I tie you up?"

He winces a little, not like he's nervous, but more like he's expecting Eddie to be.

Eddie pulls the helmet off so Steve can absolutely hear him clearly, looking him in the eye.

"Only if you get really mean about it," he says, watching Steve's eyebrows raise.

» so take a bite of me, just once - 10.3K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: Biting, Sexual Roleplay, LARPing, Vampire Roleplay, Teeth, Blindfolds, Cum Play

(Tie in with the Paraphilia series) Odaxelagnia is a kink where individuals experience sexual arousal from biting or being bitten.

Excerpt:

The door creaks open slowly, the dim lighting from the hall spilling blue tinted into Eddie's lair, a gentle haze of back-light against the warm illumination of the most delicious human he's ever seen.

So obedient, carrying out everything he's asked of him around his Castle, even blindfolding himself just so he's stuck under Eddie's command around others who could break it.

"Give me your hands," he says, a soft order.

Steve lifts his arms, hands palm up for him. Openness and truth, manufactured, but still appreciated.

» Intermission - 7.7K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Chronic Illness Tags: Pining, Pre-Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Non sex tags are: Overstimulation, Chronic Illness, Grounding, Memory Issues, Cooking, Non-Sexual Intimacy

Maybe Eddie should've said no when Steve asked to come over, but he wasn't thinking too hard - his brain wasn't working too hard on anything but the urge to scream.

So when Steve does come over and sees that Eddie is having a really bad time, he takes care of him.

And when Eddie is feeling much better later, Steve takes care of him.

Excerpt:

Even the experience of Steve guiding him to his own bedroom and directing him to lay down on his bed as he starts stripping off layers – jacket and shoes and sweater and jeans and shirt – can't shake how Eddie's brain might be setting off someone's seismic activity detector somewhere in town.

It's a shame. Laying back on his bed, usually a hobby he's great at, ruined by the way he's almost shaking with how he just can't fucking relax, how he can feel every bump and lump and wrinkle in his clothes and the bedding and the mattress and his pillows. From the outside perspective it looks like the beginning to many of his wet dreams, but right now he's got Steve's beautiful, glorious body all half naked and the threat of a good time hanging in the air and he doesn't want to have sex with him.

» Swallow Me Leaden Sky - 40.7K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: Friends With Benefits, LARPing, Sexual Roleplay, Porn Watching, Bondage, Rope Bondage, Forniphilia, Human Furniture, Bookstores, Service Submission, Light flirting with OMC, Self-Discovery, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Rockstar & Bodyguard roleplay, Eddie Munson's Guitar, Nude Photos, Exhibitionism, Verbal Humiliation, Service Kink, Biting, Prank Calls, Sixty-Nining, slow burn but they're fucking the whole time, Two insatiable men get in a fight against time itself

Steve likes little trips into the city with Robin, he likes the deep driving well in his gut, and he likes laying on Eddie's bed, watching him get ready for the day.

He doesn't always have the words for any of it, and he takes a while to catch up to his own feelings, but he thinks he's starting to get there.

Excerpt:

Eddie slides out of his chair, unable to keep his energy contained to two square feet of space, walking around and really getting into the dramatic part of playing a guitar—he's gone from figuring out random melodies to playing songs he knows, and he looks good doing it. Steve's hopes are sky high, but he’s confident that if he just tries hard enough he can fulfill this nebulous craving of his.

[laylalatter]

I fucking love the MiYu rivals with benefits agenda, but for now here's smth idek how I made

SYQ x CMY

Warnings: non con (?) Idk miyeon never says anything, Degrading, edging, straps are involved

"Goodbye!!"

Miyeon waved goodbye as the van's door has been shut, the door's window rolled down and a waving chaewon with Hyeri behind her was now visible. "Goodbye unnie!!! See you on season 2!!" Chaewon smiled and waved a final goodbye as she rolled up the car window. They had just finished season 1 of hyemileeyechaepa, and to be honest, Miyeon loved the experience of living with her bestest friends. The van finally drove off, as Miyeon pulled along her luggage into her house.

Entering it, she shouted "I'm home!!!"

No response.

She pulled in her luggage and closed the door behind her. Suddenly, a hand pulled on her wrist, pushing her against the wall. "Yu-!?" A hand covered her mouth, the only thing audible from her now is muffled screams.

"Whore."

Yuqi.

Miyeon stayed quite, what the fuck? She just got home and suddenly she's getting degraded already? Not that she hated it, she loved it, it's just out of the blue. Miyeon found the perfect time to push off Yuqi, "What?" Obviously, she questions where the younger is coming from.

"Fucking whore." Yuqi continues, huh?

"What? Wh-"

"Acting confused? Fine." Yuqi pulls along Miyeon upstairs, leaving Miyeon's luggage at the door. She practically threw Miyeon to the bed, "What the fuck is your problem!? I just got home dammit!" Miyeon scolded, genuinely confused and clueless of what Yuqi was insinuating.

"Acting like you didn't fucking stick your ass out on hyemileeyechaepa?"

Oh.

She remembers now, whenever she would sit on the chairs, she would do it in a way to stick out her ass, doing it on purpose to draw the attention of her girlfriend, Yuqi, whom she knows will be watching those episodes. "I-" Yuqi grabbed Miyeon by the waist, pinning her down on the bed. "Do you even know how long I waited for me to touch you?" Yuqi drew her hand behind Miyeon, slowly moving upwards. She played with the locks of Miyeon's hair, and harshly grabbing it making the older whimper.

"Now you're here, don't expect sweet treatment, princess."

Yuqi digs into Miyeon's neck, nibbling it slightly, leaving marks. "I'll make sure you won't be able to appear publicly with these scars I'm about to give you, doll."

That's it. She's no longer a princess to Yuqi, merely a doll is what she is now.

Yuqi stood up for a moment, taking off her clothes. She then walks over to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the longest strap she's owned.

Approaching the latter, Miyeon feels shivers crawl throughout her veins, she knows she won't be able to walk for tomorrow because of this, but fuck, she needed her girlfriend.

She sets aside the strap and proceeds to kissing Miyeon, whilst also pulling off Miyeon's jacket, then pulling up her shirt. The kiss turned heated quickly, as Yuqi played with Miyeon's boob under her bra.

She pulled out from the kiss, finally leaning down to claim the gift she's been yearning to have. Fuck, she wanted to go ahead and fuck Miyeon already, listening to her moans as if it was gospel, such an enchanting angelic voice spewing such profanities under Yuqi's dominance, but that wouldn't be much of a punishment anymore would it?

She proceeded to unzip Miyeon's pants, pulling it down. Miyeon's already so wet, her juices staining her underwear, this isn't helping Yuqi hold back her urge. With her index and middle finger, Yuqi pulls down Miyeon's panties.

"You're already wet, such a slut like you would open her legs for anyone I bet." Yuqi loves degrading Miyeon, and she's sure Miyeon would do it anyway. She teased her clit, tapping it a few times causing Miyeon to jolt. How fucking sensitive is she?

She sits up, crawling over Miyeon, hovering over her. "No mercy, puppy." Yuqi reaches for the strap, she's lost it, she just wants to hear Miyeon's begs and to see her absolutely broken under her, she would do anything.

She carresses the tip of the strap between her folds, she doesn't have enough patience to wear it, she just wants Miyeon broken.

She inserts the tip, but takes it out. Miyeon kept whimpering to this, the small noises and quite squirming, how this was making Yuqi wet.

She catches Miyeon of guard, with a sudden shove, Miyeon taking in the full length. Cursing, Miyeon's eyes swell with tears as Yuqi begins to thrust with a fast pace. Miyeon's legs were already shaking, she's already so close but it hasn't even been 5 minutes. "I'm- I'm cu-cumming—!?" Yuqi pulls out, ruining and denying Miyeon's orgasm. "Please— please!" Miyeon tries to comply, but, of course Yuqi denies. "You aren't cumming until I allow you to, get that dump?" Yuqi fucking commands. She commands. It isn't a question, it's a fucking rule now. God, she just loves Miyeon, begging for her touch, in absolute ecstasy under Yuqi, Her expression lewd, her voice like an angel yet it's screaming profanities, all that just for Yuqi, all for Yuqi to own and have, for no one else but her.

[marislittleworld]

Facts about my Hot Wheels Acceleracers OC:

Her full name is Mari Mendes

Her design creation is based on me because I always liked to imagine and 'daydream' about being inside of hot wheels acceleracers universe 😅

Her car is called Mercy Breaker, which it was my first Hot Wheels car that I gained in real life

Her age in the universes Highway 35 and Acceleracers are: 17 - 19 yrs old (even tho in real life I'm 17, but it's just an oc)

She has an older brother called Luke Mendes, in the HW universe, he is a professional driver and Kurt’s rival in Grand Prix.

Talking about her brother, he is 5 years older than her. Before the Highway 35, Luke got into an accident during a race and he broke his leg, so he retired for a very long time.

I planning to write 3 universes for Mari, my favorite universe is when Mari moves with her family to California and they become neighbors of Vert Wheeler’s family.

In Brazil, people can take a driver's license by the age of 18, but Mari took advantage to take her driving license when she did 16 years old (and when her family moved to California).

I have no intention of putting her in the TEKU or the Metal Maniacs team because I have no favorites, both of the teams made part of my childhood.

Mari’s favorite hobby is drawing, she likes to go out of her house all the time to find some inspiration. There was a time when she drew Vert Wheeler without him noticing-- OH I forgot to say she has a crush on him 😉 (HE IS MY CHILDHOOD CRUSH, OKAY?! And he is my comfort character 🥰🥰🥰)

Between Highway 35 and Acceleracers universes, Mari started to concentrate on her Art career, she wants to become a professional artist.

She hates fighting and she stays in her spot quietly not causing any trouble. But she feels bad for the people who always fight against each other like Kurt and Markie.

She took his brother’s place to race at the Highway 35. She got into Kurt Wylde’s team because he wanted to invite her brother to his team, but as mentioned, he retired because of the accident.

I’m still writing about her story on the acceleracers. But as I said, I have planned 3 versions of her (3 AUs/Alternative Universes)

And that's it. Hope you liked my OC 💖💖

I created her with a lot of love for Hot Wheels and the community

[downwiththeficness]

The Usurper-Chapter Ten

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

Start at the Beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Read on AO3 Masterlist

God damn, but Javier had good taste. Lilah frowned at herself in the mirror and tried not to hate the man for his ability to pick outfits that suited her perfectly. Lilah would never have looked twice at the softly draped sheath dress in shell pink. And, she certainly never would have dared to step into the satin pumps that adorned her feet. More than that, she would never have thought to put the two together in a single outfit.

“I look amazing,” she murmured, wondering why it felt like her stomach was turned around in knots. No. She knew exactly the reason, and it wasn’t because she looked good.

This was a date. It was definitely a date. Lilah was going to a bar for drinks with Brasa. He’d even assured her there would be a band. She was dressed up, her hair was done, and she’d put on a little more makeup than normal. Most days, all this effort would be put towards the goal of disarming a mark. But, not tonight. Tonight, Lilah’s effort was to...what? To tempt him? To draw him in? To make him want her?

Lilah had mixed feelings about Brasa on her best days. On her worst, she resented him for putting her in a position that had no good outcome. She’d either spend the rest of her life in the caves, or Amaru would kill her. Lilah wasn’t sure which option was better. Death might be a mercy, given the certainty that she was going to go insane if she spent much more time isolated from the rest of the world. It didn’t matter how much Brasa tried to reassure her, Lilah couldn’t figure out how to get around her biggest hurdle to freedom.

She turned from the mirror, hoping that she could distract herself from the impossibility of her situation with a little alcohol and music loud enough to ring in her ears for hours afterwards. Brasa assured her that she could go out as often as she liked and this was her first attempt to test that theory. It occurred to her that she should try to find an opportunity to run. Brasa was less likely to drag her kicking and screaming back to the car if there were others around to act as witnesses. Less likely didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Javier talked about the lengths Brasa would go to in order to get her back. To the ends of the earth...

The bedroom door opened and Brasa stepped through. Lilah lifted her brows at him, “Please tell me you’re changing before we leave.”

Brasa looked down at his outfit, much the same as he always wore. Black on black, leather coat and gloves. He hesitated before saying, “Ah, maybe?”

Lilah took a moment to think about how she was going to say the thing that definitely needed to be said, “You can’t go out into public like that.”

Dark brows drew together, “Why?”

She held back a laugh at his genuinely confused expression, “Because people are going to either think you’re some kind of cosplayer or...deeply into BDSM.”

More confusion, “What’s BDSM?”

“That’s probably something you should look up for yourself,” Lilah said quickly. “My point is that you need to blend in a bit.”

The door opened again and Javier hurried inside, “My deepest apologies for intruding, but she’s back.”

“Already?” Brasa drawled, looking unhappy.

“Yes. And, from what I’ve seen so far, her trip was unsuccessful.”

Brasa muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath, “Alright. I’ll deal with her,” he turned to Lilah, “and we’ll go.”

“You’re gonna change first, right?”

He sighed, “What would you like me to wear?”

Lilah shrugged, “Just blend in, okay?”

Javier inched forward, “I have something that might work.”

Javier to the rescue.

“Thank you,” Brasa said. Then, “Let’s get this over with.” To Lilah he added, “Wait here, please.”

Feeling somewhat bewildered, Lilah watched the two of them leave. She stared at the door for a long time, then trudged over to the bed and sat down to wait. Lilah waited, and waited, and waited. She waited so long that she thought the bar might close before they got there. That thought came along with an odd sense of relief. All the pressure of enjoying the next few hours to the fullest for fear that she might not get another chance any time soon lifted. She wouldn’t have to try to make small talk, wouldn’t have to try to be pleasant. Wouldn’t get distracted by his smile. Or his dimples. Or his impossibly brown eyes.

From somewhere far away came a noise. It was small, at first, but the sound grew in volume and force with such speed that Lilah jerked to standing. Staring into the middle distance, she listened hard for something that might tell her just what the fuck that was. The noise paused briefly, then started again with a deafening boom. She rushed to the door and was out in the hall before her brain caught up with her legs. In the dark, she searched for the danger.

It sounded like thunder. How could she hear thunder hundreds of yards underground? Lilah turned her head and looked both ways down the hall—there it was again. Not thunder. More like...a roar. Lilah took a step towards it with a hand lifted, as if to shield herself from attack.

Another roar. Lilah took off running. She blew through the door and into the massive cavern. Her legs stopped cold when she caught Amaru in the process of tearing the head off a person who was fighting for their life. Lilah’s jaw unhinged and she had every intention of screaming, but no sound came out. She’d seen Brasa kill, knew that she was surrounded by blood drinkers, but watching the skin tear apart in real time was sickening.

“My queen,” Brasa said in a cool tone, “was that necessary?”

Amaru dropped the head. It landed with a wet plop at her feet, “She failed me. Like you have failed me.”

Brasa was faced away from her and he hadn’t noticed Lilah was standing there watching. His body was upright and rigid, as if there was a string lifting him from above. Lilah half expected to look down and find his boots hanging an inch or two from the stone floor. On either side, his hands were clenched into fists. “Its going to take time to track down the book, my queen.”

Amaru stared him down and Lilah could feel the anger radiating from her, “I wouldn’t even need the book if I wasn’t stuck in this ridiculously weak body.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Its very frustrating for me, too. But, if you want to open the door, we need the book.”

Amaru didn’t seem at all impressed by Brasa’s measured response. She marched up to him and pointed a finger in his face, “For every day you make me wait, I’ll tear somebody apart. Even though they breed like rabbits, there’s only so many of them. Guess who I’ll come for when I run out.” Brasa’s ‘my queen’ was cut off when Amaru slammed the heel of her palm into his chest and sent him flying. He landed ten feet from where he was standing and stayed there while Amaru sneered, “No more failures.”

Lilah waited for her to disappear before she allowed herself to move. Even then, it was only to bring her hand to her chest. She drew calming breaths while she waited for Brasa to get up. He did, eventually, but his movements were slow. Lilah thought he might actually be hurt, which produced an odd pang that unsettled her. She might not like him very much and she might resent him, but something about watching Amaru toss him around in a fit if pique didn’t sit right.

After dusting himself off, Brasa turned and finally realized she was there. He said her name softly and the two syllables were touched with mortification. Lilah knew what it was like to have someone witness an ass kicking. In some ways just knowing there was another set of eyes in the room made the whole thing even worse.

She straightened her shoulders and smiled, “Tough day at the office?”

Brasa looked down at the head still sitting on the floor, “You could say that.”

“Do you want to reschedule?”

“No,” he answered after a few seconds, “I think getting out of here is a good idea.”

Lilah nodded and gestured towards the body, “Should we...bury her, or something?”

“I’ll ask Javier to care for her,” Brasa replied. “He should—.”

“I’m here,” Javier said as he entered the room with a garment bag over his arm. He looked at the gore below, “I take it the meeting didn’t go well.”

“It didn’t.”

Javier snapped into action, “Take this. Go change. I’ll handle the body. Lady Lilah, if you’ll wait in your room, this will not be easy to watch.”

As if watching her die was easy? Lilah thought, with ire. Followed by, I’ve seen two murders, lately. I wonder how many more there will be. She said, “Sure. I can do that,” while she pushed down the image of Raul’s terrified face.

Brasa reached for her, “Come on.”

Arms crossed over her chest, Lilah let Brasa lead her out of the cavern and down the hall to her room. Once inside, he split off and headed for the bathroom without a word. Lilah found herself once again sitting on the bed, waiting. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to parse her feelings about the last ten minutes of her life.

Lilah knew that Amaru was brutal and a little bit unstable. She also knew that Amaru was powerful. The mix of powerful and unstable had led to what felt like an inevitable conclusion: sadism. Whatever she was looking for, Amaru was willing to kill for it. She was also willing to punish her most trusted lieutenant in the process. Which didn’t bode well for Lilah.

She had been kept well away from Amaru for weeks. Aside from their introduction, Lilah hadn’t seen the other woman at all. The only news about her came from the little details that Lilah was able to glean from Javier and Brasa. The two of them spoke to each other in a way that suggested a long-suffering relationship of managing what basically amounted to tantrums when Amaru didn’t get her way.

Lilah didn’t know the extent of Javier’s abilities, but she thought she had some surface knowledge about what Brasa could do. It didn’t make sense that the two of them refused to team up and take down Amaru together. Their lives would certainly be a little less stressful without having to clean up after their sovereign.

Brasa stepped out of the bathroom and Lilah’s brain sort of stopped for a second. He was dressed in a button up and slacks, which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. But, Javier’s selection was a cotton in a deep purple with cuff links that glinted gold. The pants were black, of course, but cut closer to his body than he usually preferred. In fact, the whole outfit was tailored impeccably to skim the lines of his frame. Taken as a whole, Brasa looked really fucking good.

She remembered thinking that he was in shape back when he was Antonio. His conservative style and the fact that he occasionally wore a robe managed to effectively hide the body underneath. When he became Brasa, the leather coat and heavy fabrics did much the same. Now, wrapped in thin cotton, Lilah could see the breadth of his shoulders and the way the muscle rolled when he moved. It pulled at the yoke of his shirt with every breath. Brasa lifted his hands to button the cuffs and Lilah had to tuck her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to trace the outline of his bicep. He might be dressed like any other man in the bar, but there was no denying that Brasa could put somebody on their ass.

“You look nice,” Lilah said when she found her voice. She looked down. He was still wearing the gloves. What was with the gloves?

Brasa smiled and those fucking dimples formed on either side of his mouth. Lilah’s brain stopped again, stumbling over the fact that she could find him so completely attractive despite her less than kind feelings about him. “Thank you,” he said. “Should we go?”

Shaking herself back to awareness, Lilah pushed from the bed to stand and answered, “Yes, of course.”

He guided her out of the room and moved left down the hall. Lilah felt him take her hand while the light around her dimmed, “We’re not going the other way?”

Brasa glanced back at her, “Its faster this way.”

“Oh.”

The path was fairly straight, only a turn or two, but Lilah felt the gentle incline put a little burn in her calves. She should have known better than to wear the heels Javier picked out for her. The only way out was through the caves and the ground beneath her was unpredictable, at best.

Not long after that, moonlight cut through a large opening. Lilah stepped out into fresh air and saw that it as the same entrance Brasa brought her to on the night she found out he wasn’t human. She looked around, her brows coming together as she recognized Antonio’s car parked not too far away. It had only been a few days, but the memory of seeing Brasa standing in the doorway of the church seemed like a lifetime ago.

Brasa pulled a set of keys from his pocket and clicked a button. Lights flashed on a late model Mercedes in black. Lilah followed him to the car and let him help her into the passenger’s seat. With the door closed, Lilah let herself think that the interior was really, really nice while trying to forget that the person who owned it was probably dead. The driver’s side door opened and Brasa dropped into the seat. Lilah listened to the engine turn over, then asked, “What book is Amaru looking for?”

If Lilah wanted to live, she needed to know everything she could about the key players on the board in order to make the best decisions regarding her safety. Even if Amaru was insane, Lilah could tell that she was goal oriented. If Lilah knew the intimate details of what drove Amaru’s decisions, she could anticipate (and possibly mitigate) the danger.

Brasa’s hand hesitated over the gear shift, “A book on ancient Xibalban ritual.”

Lilah was surprised he’d actually answered the question. She decided to pry further, “What kind of ritual?”

Another hesitation, “She...wants to open the door between dimensions.”

Lilah’s head turned very slowly so that she could look at him, “She wants to do what?”

Brasa pulled away from the cave with confident hands, “Open the door between dimensions.”

“Why the fuck would she do that?”

He took a breath, “I suppose she misses home.”

Lilah stared at him for a long moment while she tried to process, “I know that I’ve only met her once—the recent murder notwithstanding—but I definitely get the feeling that Amaru isn’t capable of being homesick.”

Brasa chuckled while the car zoomed towards a distant highway, “You’re right. I think she misses the power.”

“Brasa,” she said with disbelief in her tone, “she tore the head off somebody right in front of us. How much more powerful can she get?”

“You’re right again,” he replied. “Power might not be the right word. Maybe influence is better.”

“Influence?”

A nod, “Amaru was...untouchable in Xibalba. She oversaw nearly the whole dimension, had an army of culebras that soaked the ground with blood in her name.” He paused, “Here, she’s stuck in the body of a child with a fraction of her influence. Her army can be obliterated with the next sunrise. The humans don’t know about her. Worse, its unlikely they’ll care unless she slaughters them in droves.”

Lilah’s brain helpfully supplied the image of a neck separating from a torso, “Opening a door to another dimension isn’t going to stop her from doing that.”

“I know,” he relented, “But, searching for the book is enough of a distraction to put off the need to dig mass graves for a little while.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes.”

Lilah grabbed onto something in his tone, “You’re trying to prevent it.” Brasa was quiet long enough that she decided she was right. “I don’t think I pictured you as particularly protective of humanity.”

“I’m not,” he replied and Lilah deflated a little bit. “I’ve seen this before. She conquers her enemy, sucks the life from them until there’s nothing but a husk. She did the same in Xibalba and she’ll do the same here.”

“I don’t understand why it matters where she does it.”

“It doesn’t,” Brasa replied, “What matters is that she does it. Can you imagine what its like to see an entire world drained of everything that makes it,” he searched for the words, “a world? Can you imagine what its like to watch that happen over and over with no goal but the sheer enjoyment of watching something die?”

“No, I can’t,” Lilah said quietly. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it very nearly caused her to sympathize with him. “Why now? You’ve been with her forever. Why try to stop her now?”

He glanced at her briefly, “Its not obvious?”

She hissed through her teeth, “So, we meet and suddenly you want to save humanity? Is it because I happen to be a part of humanity?”

The car pulled off from the highway into a metropolitan area, “Not at all.”

“Then, what is it?”

“Change,” Brasa murmured, “Meeting you showed me that change was possible.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, “Please. You’ve lived for centuries and you just now figured that out?”

His mouth twisted, “Yes, I have lived for centuries. I have lived the same life for centuries. Do you know what its like to be told what to do every waking moment? To have no choice in who you talk to, who you threaten, who you fuck,” his voice went quiet, “who you kill?”

Well, now Lilah felt like an asshole. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, saying, “No, I don’t.”

Brasa pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot of a building with a sleek exterior and huge windows, “I don’t have choices, Lilah. Not for the things that matter. What Amaru tells me to do, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to. Because I made a mistake a long time ago.” He cut the engine and leaned towards her from across the console, “But, with you, I can see that I might not have to do that anymore if I am very, very careful.”

Lilah stared at him, “I don’t understand.”

“One day, I’m going to explain it to you,” he replied, “Not tonight, but one day. Let me give you the chance to relax for a few hours, hmm?”

He was asking her to stop for now. Lilah sighed and decided that she would heed the request, “Alright, but I want a giant drink with lots of alcohol.”

Brasa smiled, “Done.”

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 594, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1050

“There are the Ratajczyk babies now!”

Peter and I were both watching grainy security footage as police officers crawled all over the Chuck E Cheeses location. We watched as Governor Paul Thomas Grantsville came into frame, picking up Baby Noah before turning to walk off. Little girl latched onto his leg and wouldn’t let go until he reached down to pull her off, rewarding him with a strong bite on his hand. Baby Tommy zipped of, probably to go find his daddy as the governor shook his hand, gritting his teeth as he finally threw off the child, hurling her into a wall. He then turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. Little girl picked herself up, clearly dazed as she wobbled about on her two feet before promptly breaking down into messy tears.

“That’s my girl!” Peter chuckled, fond pride on his face.

“Peter,” I grounded him with a stern voice before turning to the chuckling police officer in the room. “What happens now?”

“We’re looking for the governor’s properties and we will dispatch officers to go pay him a visit.”

“Oh,” I whimpered out from my place on Peter’s lap, tucking my face into his manly chest. “My love, do you think we can try for a restraining order?”

“If I may interject myself here, any judge would be a fool to turn away your request for legal protection.”

“Thanks,” Peter grunted, pressing a whiskery kiss to my temple before standing and exiting the cramped back room with me cradled lovingly in his muscular arms. “I’m taking you and the kids home now- it’s best to allow the professionals to work now.”

The only thing that left my lips was a choked cry before tears began to freely flow down my face as I pressed myself in deeper into his chest.

After we all had been tucked away in the car, I thought to call James- he and his husband had both been whisked away to Mercy Memorial in an ambulance, Ryley having been called and on standby to tend to her uncle’s goddaughter.

“Yeah, she suffered a concussion, and she’s been ordered to take it easy for the next six weeks,” James told me, his voice a mixture of worry and pride. “A police officer swabbed her month- she bit the sonofabitch so hard that she drew blood. The DNA evidence will be used to help identify the perpetrator.”

“We’re bringing little girl’s presents with us to our house,” I told him as Peter began to approach the car with his arms full of presents. Little Christopher trotted off at his side, helping with packing the gifts into the back of the Doom Buggy 3.0. “You or Aaron can come by and grab them whenever is best.”

“Thank you, Mary Claire.” I could only picture him slumping in a chair in an exam room with Ryley working her doctor witchcraft on little girl. “What would I ever do without you?”

“You’d be single and childless,” I told him bluntly, barking out a laugh at the look I felt him shooting me. “Well, you did ask me!”

“Mommy, is liddle gurl okay?” Baby Tommy meeped out, chewing on his little baby fist.

“Little girl’s head suffered a booboo,” I told him as Peter climbed into the driver’s seat and strapped on his seatbelt. “Hihi my love.”

“Hihi sweetheart,” he greeted me in a gentle rumble. “Are you on the phone with Aaron?”

“I’m actually on the phone with James,” I gently corrected him.

“Daddy, liddle girl got a booboo on her head!” Baby Tommy spilled the tea as Peter pulled out from his parking spot, being careful not to run over any of the kids.

“A booboo?” Peter gasped, coming to a halt at a red light. “Poor little girl.”

“She’ll be alright, my love,” I told him, retucking my cell phone back into my bra and reaching across to settle my hand onto his tense knee. “Kids always bounce back- they’re resilient that way.”

“I know they are sweetheart,” he chuckled, taking off when the light turned from red to green. “Bitty when she suffered that knot on the side of her head, Katie after CPS stepped in and took her away from her parents, little girl after that despicable excuse of a human being broke in and threatened to harm her, little girl after that racoon attacked her, little girl after she was born on the toilet…”

“Alright my love, I get it, I get it!” I told him, wrinkling my nose up at him as he turned onto the freeway to take his family home once more.

My babies are so strong and loving, I thought as I glanced behind me, seeing Baby Tommy sandwiched between Baby Mattie and Baby Teddy and Elizabeth and Elle, Baby Jojo and Katie and Jing in the very back. Please don’t grow up so quickly. Can you please remain as mommy’s sweet babies for just a little bit longer?

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[whump-me]

Whumptober Day 21: Vows

This is a standalone story in my original Mind Games universe, a modern-day sci-fi/fantasy thriller setting about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. Full description in my Whumptober masterpost, which is linked in my pinned post.

This story contains: twins, lab whump, death whump, mercy killing

Words: 1700

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The woman’s frail, atrophied body was hard to evefn see under the mess of tubes that surrounded her. The room smelled like a hospital, with the sterile sharpness of alcohol and bleach. A more organic smell lurked underneath—the smell of impending death. The light above was unforgiving, illuminating every scalpel scar and needle mark in the woman’s sallow skin. The beeping of the monitors was strangely muted, like they had given up.

The woman wore Kate’s face. Or Kate’s face viewed through a twisted funhouse mirror. It was what Kate’s face would have been if Kate had spent the past twenty years in the hands of a secret government research program. If they had spent those twenty years slowly taking her apart to see what she was made of.

But the Psi Enhancement Research Initiative didn’t care what Kate was made of. Kate wasn’t the one with powers. Kate wasn’t the one who was special.

Twenty years. That was how long it had been since Kate had seen her twin.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

She expected the answer to be no. She expected silence. But Laura opened her eyes. They were a mirror of Kate’s warm brown, but dull with fatigue and disinterest.

“Fuck off,” Laura said in a rasping whisper. “Haven’t you sliced me open enough? Leave me be.”

Then those dull eyes focused on Kate. Specifically, on the worn leather jacket she wore in place of a lab coat.

She frowned. “You’re not a doctor,” she said slowly. “Who are you?”

“It’s me. Kate.” When Laura’s face showed no recognition, she added, “Your sister.”

Laura’s brows drew together in a frown of confusion. The expression shift happened in slow motion, like the movement took a monumental effort. “Sister?”

“You don’t remember me?” Kate had been afraid Laura would be furious with her for taking so long to come for her. She had been afraid Laura wouldn’t forgive her. She had never imagined Laura wouldn’t remember her. “We’re twins. You were taken when we were seven, don’t you remember? We were taken.”

The men had come for them one afternoon after school, walking home from the school bus stop. They had said there had been a terrible accident, that the twins needed to come with them right away. The twins had smelled the wrong all over the story right away. Laura had frozen stock-still, staring up at them with big deer eyes. Kate, always quicker to react, had warned them that if they didn’t leave, she would scream. When they hadn’t listened, she had screamed, as loudly as her little lungs could manage.

Their house had been only a block away, close enough to see. It hadn’t mattered.

Their neighbors must have heard the scream. They must have come running. But not quickly enough. By then, the needles full of sedative had already gone into their arms, and the men had bundled them into their dark van and driven away.

When Kate had woken up in the van, the near-total darkness broken only by the white of her terrified sister’s eyes, the first words out of her mouth had been, I’ll get us out of this. I promise.

Later, after they had let Kate go, she had told the police all of this and more. They had treated it as a standard stranger abduction. One more cautionary tale, like the ones the twins heard about at the school assembly every year, where they learned not to get into cars with strangers. But Kate remembered the snatches of conversation she had heard when those rough hands had hustled the two of them out of the van. She remembered the talk about powers and experiments and research. She had known, even then, that their abduction had little to do with those school assemblies, and everything to do with how Laura could make objects move across the room without touching them.

That night in the police station, as the full truth dawned on her, had been the first time she hadn’t been jealous of her twin’s ability.

The police hadn’t listened. That had made sense to Kate’s naive child mind. She and Laura had always intuitively known not to talk about what Laura could do. They had known the adults around them would treat it as a game, as a flight of imagination. The police’s reaction just seemed like proof of that.

Only later, when she got older, did she suspect the police had been bribed or threatened into not looking too closely. Later still, after learning about the classified government program that had taken her sister, she had come to understand that the situation was even more complicated. It wasn’t greed that had kept the police from looking for her missing twin. Neither was it fear. It was the power someone in a suit with a badge in his wallet, had over someone in a police uniform.

Their abductors had considered killing the superfluous twin. She had heard them talking about it. In the end, they had been too squeamish—She’s so little, one of them had said. Maybe their last shreds of conscience had been what had saved Kate. But Kate saw it as fate. They had let her go because she had promised to save Laura, and she couldn’t do that if she was dead.

Twenty years later, here she was, ready to make good on her promise.

“I promised to save you,” she said, staring into Laura’s uncomprehending eyes. “And here I am. I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

“I don’t remember.” Laura’s voice cracked. “I don’t remember anything before the labs and the pain. I’m sorry.”

Kate quested under the tubes for her sister’s hand and squeezed it. Laura’s hand was frail and bony. Her skin was soft as crumpled paper. The skin of an old woman, or a very sick one.

“It’s okay,” she said, swallowing back tears. “Don’t feel bad. We’ll have plenty of time to make new memories.”

She gave Laura’s hand one last squeeze, then reluctantly let go. She turned her attention to the tubes, and the machines they were attached to. Her hands ran along the tangle of plastic, trying to find its origin point. Her sister was trapped, a fly in a web. All Kate had to do was unweave the web, and Laura would be free.

Laura’s eyes struggled to track Kate’s movements. “You won’t get me out that way,” she whispered. “They’re all that’s keeping me alive at this point.” She let out a long, rasping sigh. “And even with them, I don’t have long.”

The words froze Kate’s hands where they were, lost in the tangle of tubes and wires. Her throat swelled, like the spider at the center of the web had found her and bitten her with its poisonous fangs. “No,” she whispered, although she didn’t know who she was arguing with. “I finally found you. I can finally keep my promise.”

Laura shook her head—one slow turn to the left, and one to the right. Her face creased with fresh pain. “Twenty years of experiments,” she rasped. “That’s longer than most of their subjects last. I’m all used up.”

“But… I promised.” Her voice was a thin whine, like she was seven all over again, protesting to her parents—But you promised. “I promised to get you out.”

Laura’s eyes locked on hers. A spark flickered to life in those dull depths. “You still can.” Her eyes flickered toward the web of tubes and wires, and from there to the machines beyond. “They’re the only things keeping me alive,” she repeated. “I’m tired of being kept alive. I’m tired of experiments.”

Kate shook her head. “No. No. That isn’t what I promised you.”

For twenty years, the only thing that had mattered in her life was freeing her twin. For twenty years, the only thing that had mattered was getting Laura back.

“You promised to get me out,” Laura said in her labored voice. “This is how you do that.”

Then Laura smiled and closed her eyes, peace coming over her face, as if the deal had already been made. “Kate,” she whispered, like the name meant something to her, like she remembered after all. “Thank you, Kate.”

“Laura.” Kate’s tight voice was as weak as her sister’s. “I can’t do this, Laura. Don’t ask me to do this.”

There was no answer. Laura’s breathing settled into the soft, even rhythms of sleep.

Kate watched her for a moment more, eyes stinging, hands curled into tight fists. Then her hands dug into the web again.

She took no care this time. She ripped the web apart, making the machine scream its agony in shrill and startled beeps. She tore at it as if she could kill the poison at the center with brute strength. As if that were enough to undo the past twenty years and reweave both their lives free of this curse.

But the longer she tore at the web, the more she could see there would be no putting this mess back together.

She bit her lip to hold in a scream of fury. She tasted blood.

She tore until there was nothing left to break. Then she found Laura’s hand again, and held it in both of hers.

She waited there until her sister’s breathing slowed, and her faint and thready pulse no longer beat out against Kate’s fingers.

There was a new hollow place in Kate’s chest where she had carried her life’s purpose. There was a new silence in her where, for the past twenty years, her whispered promise had echoed.

She took a deep breath.

She was empty. Adrift.

She was content.

The place inside her where her promise used to echo now echoed the peace she saw on Laura’s face.

It had taken twenty years. And like all wishes that eventually came true, it didn’t look anything like the dream she had held to all these years. But she had kept her promise.

---

Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @gala1981

Ask to be added or removed from my Whumptober 2023 taglist.

[booze-hats]

Workplace Stress Management Malfunction

"Me neither," was not what Problem Sleuth had been hoping to hear come out of Spades Slick's mouth. Not at all. Nope. He'd been hoping for a plan, a vague outline of what Slick had brewing in the back of his head, but the nothing-filled double-down burger he kept receiving made his heartbeat pick up. It occurred to Sleuth that Slick seemed to intend to give him literally nothing, so he fell back a pace and a half to think.

Slick intended to... tell them where they were. He was going to walk in, holler a threat, and hope for the best. That was fine. Slick didn't seem prepared for a shootout though, so Sleuth drew his gun to hold it at his side. He hoped to God that there wouldn't be a shootout. It would be hard to explain why he'd been seen with Spades Slick right before any kind of crime, much less a murder. Jesus Christ have mercy on his soul, he was about to commit a murder with Spades Slick.

Okay, he wasn't getting a plan but he could hear his heartbeat. When Sleuth started talking, his own voice sounded a little bit distant. "What do you expect?"

"Nothing. I expect this to work."

"What's supposed to work, Spades?"

"It's fucking kids pretending to be a gang. They're twenty-one, twenty-two, they're gonna scatter like rats."

It's fucking kids. Oh, he was going to Hell for whatever was about to happen. No repentance and no prayer, no fucking baptism was going to wash this awful feeling away. He was going to threaten people who were barely old enough to drink.

"What?"

Slick stopped and turned to face him. There was no twisted snarl on his face. His tone softened up just a little bit, the most Sleuth had ever heard. Or, maybe he was seeing what the panic in the back of his skull thought it needed in the moment. He didn't really know at all. "Relax. It's easy, we're just gonna scare 'em away. Put the fuckin' gun away."

Sleuth looked at his gun. His hand wasn't steady anymore. He took a breath. Slick sounded different, he'd been trying to figure that out. He needed to focus. Easy to focus on him sounding different when Slick started talking again. "Sleuth, look at me. Put the gun away. C'mon. Look here."

He sounded further away, yeah. This familiar feeling, like he was in the passenger seat of the experience. Funny, he'd just been driving, great joke, Sleuth. He needed to focus. He'd gotten out of the car just a second ago and followed Slick down here and they were doing a job together, scaring some kids. Freaked him out a little. He'd thinking about why Slick sounded further away and he really hadn't been listening to Slick, had he? "Problem Sleuth. Eyes on me."

Sleuth looked up. "Put the gun away." He did. "What the hell's got into you?" 

It was quiet for a second and then, he shook his head. "Nothing. Let's get this over with."

<== ==> FIRST

[elena-oc-blog]

Hey remember when I drew the hydra brothers back in august and mentioned in the description that i would have their parents out soon too? Yeah sorry, they got stuck in art limbo as i was distracted with other things but now I have the hydra dads for you to see! I actually finished this like 2 days ago and I was going to wait with posting them until i finished the hydra mom piece too but I'm going through another *im tired all the time* period so thats not happening any time soon so here is hydra dad by himself or themselves i should say. I only drew their heads because I have mercy for myself and am not subjecting myself on drawing an anthro hydra with 5 heads. I do have bust sketches of them in my sketchbook but I still need to figure out how to fit their 5 necks and heads on one body properly so maybe thats a thing for the far future Anyway lore on these guys uh, Im a lil tired so let me just copy paste some miscelaneous lore I posted in my discord server and ill try to elaborate when i feel less shitty. I'll put it under a readmore so this post wont clog up your feed.

The Lièrna family gang is made up of Greek monsters: centaurs, satyrs, chimeras, minotaurs, griffins, some undercover hellhounds, etc.

Don't have a proper ref for this gang yet as I still need to fill their ranks

They originally lived in and operated from Athens in Greece but had to leave almost everything behind when the police started to catch on to them. They fled to the carribean island of Isla Dracon and settled in Auron City, soon recovering their wealth and businesses and becoming one the top dog gangs there and close to being in control of the city. That is until Thorn showed up a few years after..

The Lièrna family front is a luxury car business (building, selling, repairing) while their criminal business is car towing with a lot of extortion of the poorer part of the city's population where they basically steal cars and any personal belongings left in them from the poor population because they can't pay the fees. They then proceed to either resell these cars in one of their used car dealerships or destroy the cars to use for parts and scrap metal. They also loan out money under preditory rates and own some real estate that they rent out for high prices with bad service. So really their whole business is exploiting people, especially those less fortunate. They revel in this, thinking the poor deserve it for not working hard enough.

As for their relationship with Thorn, they hate Thorn but they act like good friends of his whenever they meet with him or are talking about him with people they don't know/people who like him. They don't want to stir trouble until they have a solid plan on how to overthrown him. Thorn as of now has no idea the hydras hate his guts and are plotting against him in secret together with Morrison and whatever other allies they gain.

Im not sure how old they are. I need to figure out my timeline better for that first. And maybe change how dragons age compared to other species idk But I would say they are between their late 40s and mid 50s

Also pecking order of the brothers from top to bottom is: Don, Alekos, Roland and Boris and at the very bottom is Kashew. Kashew is mute and also rather friendly which makes his brothers and especially Don regard him as a useless nobody. Kashew gets a lot of verbal abuse and sometimes also physical abuse from his brothers :( The only reason they don't physically abuse him as much as they mentally abuse him is because having a beaten up head would be bad for their business and image with the civilians of the city. They also cant get rid of him as that would comprimise their health and ability to fuse back together. Hydras can split up into individual smaller and less powerful dragons but unless all individuals are present, they can't fuse back together. And eventhough hydras in their fused natural state can regenerate their heads effortlessly and have an increased durability for injuries, in their seperate state they will die if decapitated and are also much more defenseless in general. While a fused hydra could take a vicious stabbing/beating and live, a split hydra individual is much more fragile and will easily bleed out and if they die, their siblings are doomed as well. Thus hydras tend to only split up when in the comfort of their home or when they take on a human disguise. It can also occur when there is an extreme disagreement between siblings and one or multiple forcibly split off through sheer willpower, causing them to fall apart into seperate entities. This is not preferable though. Anyway i think thats all the lore i have at the moment, i hope you enjoy the boys. Feel free to ask questions about them