#I know Tails is yellow but the old one is orange and he's slowly turn to yellow but I saw a fanart of the Heelers with them soo.. Yeah

[slowdivinqs]

Golden

Summary: A Sunday afternoon on your farm with Joel.

WC: 4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Soft, dorky Joel. We pretend Abby and Joel chatted it out. Joel and JJ moments. Breeding ( ? ) kink. Oral sex f! receiving. PinV. Joel doing physical labor…yeah. Can imagine Pedro or game Joel. Reader can paint!

A/N: I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you for all the love, kind words and support on Magnetism! You all melt my heart. Thank you! I’m not so happy with the smut in this but whatever :,)

The Sade record crackles before your favorite song on the album begins drifting through the air. The birthday gift Joel gave you last year that made hot tears fall out of your eyes, just like him when you gave him a painting of Sarah and Ellie for his birthday that hangs in his woodworking space. Your birthday last year ended with 8 hours spent in the sheets, passed out by the end of it, Joel with a sore back for a week - yet claims it was worth it.

You look up at him right now, peering outside the large kitchen windows and spotting him pulling out carrots, in a tight shirt and his work jeans, arms flexing at the particularly stubborn ones. Banjo following along and sniffing inside Joel’s wicker basket filled with vegetables, his tail smacking into Joel’s side. Rosie and Posie bleating in the distance, their fuzzy woolen coats glowing in the sun, seeming to also take an interest in watching Joel work, just like you.

You hear Banjo’s excited barks before Joel closes the dog's mouth shut with his hand playfully, shaking Banjo’s head side to side lightly, riling him up. The sun starts to set behind them, past the fence surrounding your ranch, behind the tall Wyoming mountains. Orange, pink, and yellow, exploding in waves. The bees returning to their hives from the flower box in front of the kitchen windows．

You laugh when Banjo manages to knock Joel over lightly, the two tumbling onto the grass. Joel laughs too, holding the border collie back with his forearm as he tries to lick Joel’s face with all his might.

You smile to yourself as you get back to work, just as Sade starts singing about ‘his hands’ and ‘the way the mountains look’. Lost in the haze of measuring out ingredients, 2 and 3 quarter cups flour, a quarter cup of sugar. Feeling the weight of the ingredients slide into the bowl. Just as you see Joel slowly walk towards the chicken coup, Banjo waiting in the grass - knowing he’s not allowed there.

Milk and salt are next, and you drift over to the fridge to grab the milk, your long white skirt, embraced with abstract flowery patterns flows against your bare ankles as your toes feel the comforting wooden floors of your warm farm home that Joel made sure to install after you mindlessly talked about your love for warm wooden accents. Sat a 20-minute walk outside the walls of Jackson, a small distance away from Ellie’s farm, closer to the lush woods atop the hills.

As you settle back by the kitchen counter, lit up by warm - almost honey-colored rays of sunlight, you try to spot Joel amongst the chickens, but he seems to have vanished, Banjo too.

You glance around surprised for a moment, your eyes flitting from the coup to the vegetable patches, to the flower beds he planted for you, the fairy garden that he denies he took part in yet carved all of the little toadstool homes for you, and Ellie to paint, and even to Old Beardy grazing in the distance, yet Joel is nowhere to be found.

You even turn to the back door, yet there’s no sign of your man. How can a big teddy bear like him disappear in less than a minute?

You jump and let out an embarrassing squeak as a sudden flash of salt and pepper pops up right on the other side of the window pane. You clutch a hand over your chest as Joel’s face comes into view, his cheeky smile and scruffy beard. Utterly pleased with himself at his success in startling you.

You glare at him half-heartedly, trying to hide the smile that’s inching up your face.

He reaches into one of the large pockets in his jeans, and your attempt at hiding your smile fails when he pulls out a little yellow chick. He lifts it to your view, the little fluff ball wiggling and chirping, looking tiny in Joel’s large, dirty palms. His smile grows wider and tender as he sees you beam at the sight through the window.

He scratches the chick’s head with one of his fingers before walking back to reunite the yellow baby with its mama.

You laugh to yourself at his antics. At a grown, grizzly man, surprising you with a baby chicken. He’s a dork and doesn’t deny the allegations when they’re thrown his way.

Banjo runs circles around the vegetable garden just as the back door opens, closing softly with a click. Joel’s heavy footfall, accentuated by his boots, sounds behind you, getting softer as he heads to the guest bathroom. The house creaks and groans as the water turns on. You’re back to baking.

“Smells real good.”

He hums, his, now soft, footfall appearing once again as he approaches from behind you, burying his face in your neck and sniffling dramatically, you feel his wet beard and hair drip onto your neck, giving you goosies. He’s splashed his face and washed his hands, probably so he can distract you without your scolding.

“Me or the food, old man?” You ask with a smile, continuing to knead the dough.

“‘Mm, both.” He hums, rubbing his facial hair against your neck like a cat. You suspect he might start purring soon. It’s not unlike him, even though he ignores you when you tell him that he basically purrs while snuggling against your chest as you read whatever novel you two have picked aloud to him in the evenings.

“Cinnamon rolls, bread’s in the often.” You hum, tilting your head to the side so he can keep giving you his beard scratches. He starts nibbling too now. You sway your hips slightly to the music, and the way his hands fall to your hips tells you all you need to know.

“Cinnamon rolls.” He repeats amused, smiling against your skin, nibbling again to make you tut at him, grinning when you do.

“Ellie and Dina are comin’ over later.” You say as you grab the jar of cinnamon on the shelf, leaving Joel to step back and watch.

“They bringin’ JJ?” Joel asks, voice loosing his husky tiredness and instead replaced with a lighter sound.

“Yes baby, they’re bringing JJ.” You say with a soft smile, looking back at him only to find he’s disappeared once more. That man is silent as a mouse usually - a habit you suppose. Although, whenever he walks into the house, he does three stomps of his boots - just to make sure you know it’s him. He may have gone soft, but there are some things time will never strip away entirely. His knack for safety is one of them.

Just as you’re finished adding all the wet ingredients to your dry ones, you hear Joel in the living room lowering a box, a few things spilling out. An obnoxious squeak of a toy - you think it’s banjo’s plastic chicken that Joel hid away after the noise drove Joel so insane he accidentally beheaded a cowboy carving he was working on for a month. You catch Banjo’s head shoot up as if he got a sense that his long-lost soulmate is near. Joel hides the chicken away again quickly.

He’s brought out the small bundle of toys you two own - JJ’s toy box - Joel calls it, even made one of those shape sorters and toy soldiers for the little boy to play with, and asked you to paint them when he was done, as he does most of his carvings.

This is the one thing Joel doesn’t try to hide his excitement about. Whenever he sees JJ, or ‘potato’ as Ellie calls him, they might as well be the only people in the world. You think it’s the sweetest thing, makes you want to beg him to have a potato of your own, your body going into overdrive imagining how he’d look at your child while putting them to sleep, how he’d kiss their forehead softly.

Joel begins to organize the toys, placing the few dinosaurs, soldiers, and stuffed animals in a battle scene. The soldiers are apparently no match for the fluffy bear, as he’s flung them around in defeat.

Never did you think you’d see the day that Joel Miller would organize a battle scene between stuffed animals and wooden soldiers, just to see JJ’s face light up in excitement - like the little boy's face doesn’t already do that when he just sees Joel as the front door opens.

You manage to pull your eyes away and start folding your dough. Smiling to yourself at your sweet sweet man. Your stomach swoops the more you think, kneading the dough mindlessly as you’re painfully reminded how badly you want it. How badly you want him to pump you full, make you swell. You don’t even notice how your eyes have gone hazy, kneading the dough harder and harder until you jump at Joel’s big hands cupping your wrists from behind, pulling them upwards slightly to relax them. His beard tickles the fly always at the back of your neck as he kisses the soft skin there.

“What’s got my lady all worked up, hm?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing down the side and inhaling, almost like he wants to brand himself with you.

“You.” You whisper shakily, squeezing the dough slightly like an anchor. You feel his cheeky, boyish smile against your skin, only for a moment before he replaces that smirk with a nibble.

“Me?” He asked softly, planting his chin over your shoulder to watch as you ‘work’, definitely not to watch the way his calloused hands cup over your tits. The dough between your palms is the only thing keeping you stable right now.

“Yes, you.” It’s a breathy whisper, and although he doesn’t see it - Joel already knows your eyes are drooping when you tip your head back slightly, able to breathe in that perfect scent of him after he’s spent the day working in the sun. The musk that is uniquely Joel, that screams man man man.

“Don’t know what you mean, honey bee.” He hums, his mouth ghosting over your earlobe just as his thumbs circle over where your nipples are unfortunately hidden away from him. He knows exactly what you mean.

“Why don’t you head South and find out then, cowboy?” You tease, expecting a playful slap and pinch of your ass before he wanders off to the shower, but instead, you find his hands, then his whole self sliding down down down until his knees plant themselves on the floor.

“Gonna let me spoil my desert?” He hums, his hands sliding slowly up from your ankles, bringing your skirt with them, until he can see the little cotton-lace panties that are hidden underneath. He bites the soft swell of your right asscheek that the cotton doesn’t cover.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip softly as you arch your back slightly, leaning your weight on the dough, squeezing harder as the soft caress of your thighs leaves you dripping - more so than before.

“You know I’d let you do anything.” You whisper to him, and it’s all he needs before you feel his calloused fingers on your lower back, sinking into your underwear before dragging them down, burying his head under your skirt.

He throws your panties somewhere, with a proper flick of his wrist. You can see them land somewhere in your periphery, the white lace discarded, very Joel-like in the most crude matter possible.

“Joel!-“ you begin to exclaim before his warm tongue parts your slick folds with an obscene sound. Slurping up the wetness he’s found as his calloused hands grip the front of your thighs. Squeezing tightly like it’ll let him get his tongue deeper into your pussy.

You almost want to laugh at what it must look like: his head buried under your long white skirt, like a ghost he probably dressed up as for Halloween. But fortunately for him, you can’t laugh when his mouth has sealed around the hood of your clit, when it’s hot hot hot and wet.

“Oh, Joel-” you moan in a breathless gasp, your head falling back and then forward as his tongue licks the underside of your clit, making you squeeze the poor dough for it’s life.

He groans into your pussy, tongue leaving your clit to lick side to side, sliding down your cunt until it’s breaching your drenched hole. His hands grip your ass-cheeks tightly, eating at you like it’s his last meal.

He pushes two of those thick fingers inside you, instantly curling forward so deliciously you think you might die. You lose your voice, moaning hoarsely as you clench around the intrusion. He starts moving his hand faster, paired with the suckling of his hot mouth on your clit, you’re not going to last much longer.

“Give it t’me baby- let me have it.” He whispers against you, and it’s his words that do it, as well as that final crook of his fingers that hit you right where you need him. You’re cumming with an intensity only he can give you. He slurps up all the wetness he can until you’re whining at him that it's ‘too much, too much’ and he stands. Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before kissing you deeply. Guiding his tongue into your mouth just as he had done your pussy.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, and your chest blooms, blinking up at him as he looks into your eyes with a calm tenderness like you’re exactly what he always dreamed of - like he lay awake at night as a little boy getting giddy at the thought that one day you might be real, and now you are, more importantly: you’re his, and he’s yours.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, kissing him once more before he’s once again lifting your hands from the dough, which now looks positively mixed from your absent-minded squeezing.

“‘M gonna go shower, baby.” He says softly, stepping back from you just as you turn to look at him.

“You’re gonna deny a woman her fun?” You ask with a raise of your eyebrow, looking down as he re-adjusts his jeans. His hands glancing at your ass before smirking at something you don’t see yet.

“You’ll get your fun later, baby.” He says with an amused smile, before he’s turning and heading upstairs. You sigh and look around the kitchen, laughing brightly as you see your panties dangling on the hook by the back door, how he flung them so far, you’ll never know.

There’s a knock at the door at 5pm sharp, and Joel bounds down the stairs before walking to the door, the creak of it sweet before the sounds of ‘hello!’ and ‘how’s it going, old man?’ ring through the house. You move away from the kitchen to great Dina and Ellie as they walk in, JJ already cooing excitedly in Joel’s arms as he hugs Dina, then Ellie from the side. Smiling widely at the little boy.

“Hey Els, Dina.” You say softly as Ellie gives you a tight squeeze, her mullet brushed neatly, most likely done by Dina. The Ellie you know would let her hair stick in every direction like the wild child she is and always will be.

“Smells good.” Ellie says softly, a hand on the small of Dina’s back before she’s walking to the kitchen to inspect what you’ve made. You see Ollie - JJ’s favorite toy elephant that Ellie won in the Jackson Fair at 19 - hanging out of her back pocket. You smile at the similarities between Joel and Ellie, clear that he raised her in subtle ways. The most obvious being her recent taking for boots, jeans and flannels. She goes over to Joel and JJ after that, crouching behind Joel who’s sat on the carpet by his battle scene, giving him a bear hug from behind.

The afternoon is spent chatting away with Dina, Ellie occasionally chiming in, yet all three of you mainly watch Joel and JJ playing on the living room rug. Your home is filled with the delighted laughter of a child. Ellie joins in soon too, taking on the role of the toy dinosaurs which makes JJ shriek with laughter as they attack Joel’s stuffed bear, then Joel himself.

Everything is warm.

You all eat together. Roasted Venison with salad and bread, cinnamon rolls later that JJ tries to devour whole while sitting on Joel’s lap - similarly to Ellie who sneaks an extra two with Joel in the kitchen when they think their respective partners aren’t looking.

They stay in the small cottage outside which Joel made sure was perfect before their arrival. JJ and Dina fast asleep as you, Ellie and Joel find place on the couch watching some cheesy action movie that Ellie picked. Just like old times when she was a young teenager. She still leans against Joel’s shoulder all the same. Both of his girls in his arms as lights flash across the screen. You glance up at his face once, and smile when seeing he looks as happy as can be.

He deserves this, he deserves to be happy. Even if he might not believe it, you do, and you’ll let hell freeze over before you stop trying to make him happy.

Ellie bids you goodnight before going to curl up in bed with Dina and JJ. Similarly to the way Joel follows up the stairs behind you as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Smirking at the twinkle in his eye you see as you pull out his favorite night dress of yours

You’ve just finished up in the bathroom when you walk back into your shared bedroom. Joel shucking off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. You admire his broad back in the low light of the bedroom. The shadows dusting along his muscles like rivers.

You float up behind him this time, your nose pressed to the line down his back, hands wrapped around his stomach.

“I want one.” You whisper into the quiet night, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. He turns to face you - you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Want what, darlin’?” He whispers softly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek as he breaths softly. You can hear his heart beating, in sync with yours.

“A baby.” You whisper, and it’s so silent, so quiet. His eyes glimmer and brighten, his breath bated as he looks down at you.

“You want that with me, sweet girl?” He whispers, his voice suddenly hoarse and thick.

“More than anything.”

He kisses you deeply, his hand burying at the hair on the back of your head. Cupping the bowl of your skull so tenderly you can feel his love for you pulse through your veins. Your arms wrap rest on his broad shoulders.

“Me too, baby. Me too.” He whispers, and emotion wraps around your throat, as you can tell it does his when you see the shine in his sweet eyes.

You fall to the bed together, his boxers discarded as he makes quick work of your night gown. Kissing along your breasts until you’re driven so positively crazy you need him to soothe it with his mouth.

Your hand wraps around his shaft and you gaze into his eyes as they flutter slightly at the sensation of your fingers, his own meet you there, guiding him inside you until you both gasp softly at the sensation. He lets his hips push in all the way moments after. Your walls grip around him, the thick, hot - length of him, pushing its way through you until he fits into the space he’s made for himself within you. The noise of your wetness clenching around his girth as he holds himself over you on his strong forearms is nothing short of one of Joel’s favorite erotic sound.

“I love you, I love you so damn much.” He whispers, his large - paw like hand cupping your skull as he grinds his pelvis against your pulsing clit, listening to the soft shk shk shk as his cock twitches inside you, pushing up against that spot inside you that turns you stupid.

“I love you too.” You whimper, barely able to think past the way your eyes are rolling. He hasn’t even thrusted yet. You don’t catch the way he’s gazing down at you, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like you own every part of his heart and soul, like you might as well be living and breathing within his ribcage : as if you’re the sole thing causing that glow he seems to have.

He starts moving, slow, deep slaps of his hips against yours. Holding you against him as you arch your back slightly, making sure he digs against that spot that drives you wild.

Your fingers dig red lines down his broad back. His head falling forward as he groans so deep and roughly you think you might die from being overly aroused. This man does things to you that you can’t even explain with words, your cries of pleasure seem to communicate it well enough though. Everything is hot and wet and sticky as he whispers into your ear.

“You’re gon’ be such a good mama- fuck darlin’ - take it, yeah-“ he groans into your ear, and your whole body shivers. You clench tighter around him, making him gasp slightly as his hand finds your clit. “Got me achin’ f’you all day baby-“ he whines - whines - into your ear, the soft skin of his balls drags against the curve of your ass, just like his tip dragging through your walls, taking you higher and higher until you can’t even hear the noises you’re making.

He rubs your clit harder, round and round on that pulsing nub until you open your eyes and see his disheveled face. Skin flushed, hair a mess, and his gaze fluttering as he moves his hips against you- his big strong body shining with sweat.

You’re done for.

You dig your heel into the soft flesh of his ass, pulling him closer and locking your legs around him, trapping him deep inside of you.

“Please cum inside me-“ you whimper, gazing into his eyes as he fights with all his might to make sure you cum first, his hand doesn’t let up on your clit, and you clench. “Please let me have it-“

His groan breaks into a soft whine as he drops onto his forearms, face right in front of yours, his nose bumping into your own. You can feel his harsh breaths against your swollen lips.

When you feel him start to fill you up on a slamming thrust, you cum with him, clenching tighter every time you feel one of his thick, sticky ropes shoot inside you while his cock twitches wildly inside you - his moans even sweeter than the sensation.

“Oh god, I love you-“ he whimpers, his moan cracking as you push him impossibly closer with your heel, his hands gripping the sheets next to your head for dear life. He kisses you messily, tiredly as you both lie there - sweaty and catching your breaths.

“I love you.” You whisper back to him, your hand running through his messy hair as you litter kisses along his damp forehead. He nuzzles into you like a big bear still inside you as he softens.

“You need somethin’?” He asks once he’s found his thoughts again, sitting up slightly before you pull him back down with an ‘oof ’.

“Just you.” You whisper back sleepily, your eyes closing shut as you bask in the feeling and love he gives you. You feel a soft kiss to your jaw. His hand splaying over your tummy.

“You got me, baby. Always.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading ! ♡ please lmk if you enjoyed it and reblog if you did ◡̈

[0-animelover-0]

Accidental Insanity

(Cicero x Assassin!Reader)

A/N: I did this in the really early hours (around 1-2am) so I'm sorry if it seems kooky at some points.

The sun hung low in the sky. Pretty purples, oranges and yellows covered the sky. Inside a hidden sanctuary lived an organization of highly trained assassins. The people you called your ‘family’. You were currently sitting in your private room. The cream colored candles on your desk burned with a soft glow, the wax slowly sliding down the sides from how many times you used them. Dipping a quill in the inkwell, you started writing on the paper again. The sound of mumbling and light laughter caught your attention. You knew who the voice belonged to, Cicero. The deranged man who was accepted into the organization by your boss and ‘sister’, Astrid.

An older voice spoke up, the person sounded annoyed. “Will someone shut up the clown!” You sighed and set your quill down before standing up and making your way to the main area. There, you saw Cicero tapping his lips with his pointer finger, like he was thinking.

When he saw you, his eyes lit up and he happily skipped to you. “Happy to see Y/n! Yes yes indeed!” If he had a tail you swore it would be wagging. “Are you done with your writings?” You nodded with a friendly smile. Cicero basically bounced on his heels in excitement.

The old man Festus Krex walked to you both, his famous sour expression showing on his face. “Y/n, are you just going to talk or actually work?” Cicero’s eyes darkened and a look of pure hatred appeared across his face.

He unsheathed his dagger from his side and pointed it at Festus Krex. “You dare speak to my Mistress in such a way?” His voice spoke with intent to kill.

The shock on Festus Krex’s face only showed for a second before it turned into irritation, his teeth gritting together. “Like you have the nerve to wield that steel to my throat.” Cicero’s actions spoke for him as he lunged forward and placed the steel dagger to Festus Krex’s throat. The smile spreading across Cicero’s face could creep out even an Orc warrior. Other members who saw the scene either put down or ignored what they were doing and ran to them.

Astrid was the first to get to them. “Cicero, stop this madness!” Her voice sounded rushed and slightly panicked.

Cicero’s eyes never left Festus Krex with that grin still plastered on his face. “He disrespected the Listener, now he faces the punishment.”

“Cicero…” Your voice was soft but stern. After what felt like an eternity, he finally lowered his weapon from the old man’s throat.

“Do you not have any sense? You could have actually hurt him, you fool.” Astrid’s husband, Arnbjorn, pushed the jester to the ground causing his clothes to become dirty. Cicero’s dagger sliced his own hand during the impact.

You noticed this and glared at the man, helping Cicero up. “Do you? Maybe he shouldn't have acted like he did but at least he has more brains than you, mutt.” Before anyone could speak, you led Cicero away from the group of armed assassins. He didn’t protest but why would he? He trusts you more than anyone. You brought him to your chambers, making him sit down on the bed.

He watched as you went to and fro looking for stuff. “What are you gathering dear Listener?” His voice seemed less cheery than before.

“Looking for stuff to clean that hand.” you replied. Cicero raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why help him? Nobody does so why are you? Why now? He didn’t notice you as you came closer to him, lifting his chin to look into his eyes. “Are you alright? You look spaced out.” 

Cicero came back to reality and smiled big. “Oh yes, yes! Cicero is glad you’re the one helping him!” You observed his face, knowing there was something gnawing at him. You took his chin between your fingers and made him fully look at you. The beat of his heart pounded faster and he could feel heat rise to his cheeks. He was so confused about what this feeling was.

“Are you sure? You're red as a tomato. Feeling sick at all?” you asked Cicero. Cicero shook his head, not trusting his voice. You took his jester's hat off him and placed it to the side. His red hair cascaded to his shoulders, some strands getting in his face. “Maybe that will make your temperature less hot.” You took his injured hand and put ointment on the cut gently. You then wrapped his hand with bandage wrappings and when you were finished, you kissed his palm. “There, all better.”

Cicero cleared his throat and smiled. “Oh, so polite and friendly! Yes, Cicero thanks your kindness!

 You put the wooden bowl down which contained the ointment. “Don’t thank me. I’m just showing genuine care.”

He tilted his head to the side, authentic confusion in his eyes. “But, no one else does!” You cupped his cheeks, your eyes softening as you looked at him. ‘Oh no, there's that feeling again!’ Cicero thought to himself. He looked back up at you and into your eyes that he very much adored.

“If you need me, you know where to find me. Alright?” Your voice spoke like velvet. He nodded and watched as you smiled and walked away, leaving him to ponder. Ever since then, Cicero followed you wherever you went. Either just walking across the room or traveling to a city, he was there. You did not mind his company that much. His jokes and boisterous personality made the trips more entertaining.

* * *

Your heart still hastily beats from the battle you just witnessed. You made sure to check if anyone followed you from the fort and dismounted your horse. You stood outside the sanctuary with your black horse, gently stroking its mane and whispering praises to the proud creature. You walked to the door past the hanging moss from overhead. The first thing that you heard was Astrid's voice, yelling with anger. “Astrid! What is causing you such distress?”

 “Cicero has crossed the line this time! He went nuts and stabbed Veezara! I want you to find him and kill him. And make it slow…” Your heart plummeted to your stomach. Astrid’s words replayed in your head. You turned your head to look at Veezara who was sitting down and clutching his side. “Yes, Sister…”

* * *

You rode to the old sanctuary on your horse through the cold wind and blistering snow. With each step the horse’s hooves made, a crunch could be heard. Red liquid was all you saw when you got to the stone door. Pushing it open and making your way through the old structure, you followed the blood droplets leading you further in. Then you saw him, Cicero. He was pacing back and forth, rambling to himself. Your eyes softened slightly but you put your feelings aside and went to him.

“Cicero is sorry…He didn’t mean to!” It seemed the panic was still in his eyes.

“Yes I know.” You carefully stepped closer. When he’s in this state you know to be slow and cautious with everything you say or do. Cicero laughed, the sound of it made your skin crawl. Before you knew it, tears were escaping his eyes like waterfalls. His psychotic laughter rang through both of your ears as you watched him. “Let’s–” You didn’t finish your sentence when Cicero suddenly came at you, his fingers wrapping around his dagger. Your instincts kicked in and you drew your weapon. 

Cicero’s body fell limp in your arms as the steel sword plunged into his stomach. The musty room you were in felt almost suffocating as you sat on the cold floor. Your hands couldn’t stop shaking as the bloody sword you held finally fell to the floor with a clang. The images of the day ran through your mind like a slideshow. Your breaths became jagged as you looked at the pool of blood that had formed under his corpse. His body still layed there, his head facing away from you. Sure you had killed many times before but this time, it was different. 

“I just wanted to save him…” You kept whispering these words over and over again. His once beating heart now could barely be felt or heard. You felt like crying as you placed your hands over your mouth. You never knew why his crazy personality interested you but it did. You slowly pulled yourself up onto your legs that threatened to go out. You took the items off his dead body and left without looking back.

* * *

Everytime you turned you could have sworn he was there. You opened the door that led to the place you called home. Astrid looked up from the blade she was holding and smiled at you. “I suppose Cicero is dead?”

You nodded, refusing to look her in the eyes. “Yes, now if you don’t need me I'll be out for a while.” Before Astrid could answer, You walked away with your hood up which concealed the tears that tried to break out. You hopped onto your horse that you kept tied up outside and instantly made him go into a fast trot.

Soft whispers and tsk sounds made your ears perk and a chill to run through your spine. The horse's movements slowed to a near stop and your eyes racked over your surroundings. All you heard was the wind but then you heard it.

Cicero watched you as he sat on a nearby cliff, a sorrowful look on his face. “My my, tears don’t look good on you…”

Your eyes widened and then your eyes landed on him. “Cicero…no it–it can’t be…”

“Hello, My Treasure…”

[skullsnbruises]

may you write some nage!tubbo with t!Ranboo noms with some fearplay and teasing in it plz, love your art btw! ^^

-crystal

I know allium duo is Ranboo and Tommy,, but the opportunity was there between him and Tubbo soo . Also thank you for the request! I don’t see these two enough (despite them being such a common duo???) and it was fun to write something quick. Hope you enjoy as well!

Ao3 link

Taglist @brick-a-doodle-do @poprockpanda

Off the Path

(1252 words)

“Okay, what do you do when you’re lost in the woods…?”

Wherever they turned was just… trees. He’d probably long since lost the path, and by the sky turning a vibrant orange, it looked like it was going to be useless finding his way back.

The sun was setting, and Ranboo was screwed.

“I can’t stay where I am,” they thought of the age-old advice, “Nobody knows I’m out here…”

Ranboo peered around, all the stupid greenery looked the exact same. Nothing pointed them to a logical exit. They felt frozen with anxiety.

“Do I just pick a direction??”

He gulped hard, staring in the face of his fears.

They sighed, and decided yes, he would just pick a direction and start walking. The forest couldn’t be that big that he wouldn’t at least find something soon. Right?

And so Ranboo took a few steps, worried about pushing through bushes and getting pricked by thorns. He cursed themself out for getting so distracted earlier. If he hadn’t strayed off his hike, if they weren’t so caught up picking up those pretty purple flowers…

Though, the alliums did look pretty.

They sighed. He tried to keep his hopes up that they’d find the path, or the edge of the forest, or anything at all very soon.

And then Ranboo stumbled upon something, to say the least.

Their foot caught on a root, and they tripped, falling face first into the ground. He spit out the dirt and wiped furiously at his face, blinking rapidly. When their eyes cried out all the dust, through the teary watery vision, Ranboo could see an opening.

Not a clearing in the woods, but the opening to a cave.

There were a few hills about, some significantly taller than others, but very few cliff sides or visible rock. This cave proved to be interesting, at the very least somewhere to check out- or worst case forbid- sleep in for the night.

Ranboo watched the sky as it was now settling into a gorgeous dark shade of blue and purples. It was practically nighttime now.

Not wanting to be caught with wolves in the pitch black, Ranboo chose the cave over the possible dangers of the forest.

He traced along the cave walls as he walked through, and it went farther back then he would’ve expected. It wasn’t small either, instead of closing up quickly and shrinking to meet his height, the roof stayed relatively equal, trailing all the way back until they reached an open area. Studying the rocky room, Ranboo had to stop and question if this cave was even natural. The walls were obviously scratched, and some areas looked like rock was forced out of the way. Maybe it was a den… but what on earth was so big that it needed so much…

Space?

Ranboo’s eyes met another set of piercing yellow slits.

A figure began to slowly wiggle upwards, growing impossibly above them, showing off a tall… person?

“Hello there…” the giant figure spoke out slowly, “who are you, and why the hell are you in my den?”

Out of the shadow, a forked tongue flicked out, and the figure came closer, revealing itself to be that of a naga.

Ranboo’s mouth fell agape, “N-n-naga?!”

The enormous mythical being laughed boomingly, “Hah! Have you never seen one before?”

He was completely paralyzed, fear shooting his nerves and forcing them to stand still, shoes digging into the ground and hands clenched into clammy fists. They felt weak and nauseous.

“What’s wrong? Scared?” The naga held a mocking tone as it slithered closer. There was a deafening thump, as its tail thud behind Ranboo, effectively trapping him inside the cave.

“P-please don’t hurt me!” Is all their choked throat could manage out.

“Hurt you!” The snake beamed, “Oh, you’re fun, I can tell already. My name is Tubbo. And you are…” Tubbo reached out a clawed hand.

“R-Ranboo…” They squeaked, grabbing Tubbo’s finger with his sweaty hand, and gave the most pathetic excuse of a handshake ever.

“It’s funny how scared you are.”

The human shrank back, “I- are you going to kill me?”

Tubbo’s eyes lowered, considering, “Well. It would be fun to mess around first.”

Ranboo felt tears spill over his cheeks. They were going to die, never see their friends or family again, all because he wanted to pick some stupid flowers and got lost.

“Awe, don’t look so sad,” Tubbo’s hands came horrifyingly close for someone who just threatened to kill him.

“P-please,” Ranboo tensed, holding back sobs, “don’t-“

Tubbo slumped down, and his tail shifted around. The small circle Ranboo was confined to shrank more, closing in as Tubbo readied to take their life.

A sob wracked through his fragile body, causing Ranboo to collapse to his knees, crying and pleading and begging. Anything to bargain for their life. The naga stared through them as Ranboo searched his person, trying desperately for anything to convince him.

“P-please, I- don’t-“ their hand settled on the pocket to their jacket, and he weakly pulled the alliums out. With a shaky limb, he lifted the flowers up to the naga, “W- Please- spare me-“

Tubbo’s breath hitched, and his face was dumbfounded, “Flowers??” His hands fell to his sides and all he could do was scrunch his eyebrows in confusion, looking between the offering and the human’s face.

Ranboo shrugged weakly, “Don’t kill me…”

“Holy shit-“ Tubbo burst into laughter, “this is pathetic, okay- whatever- fine.”

Ranboo’s eyes widened, and their body stilled nervously.

“You’re so annoying, whatever. I won’t kill you,” Tubbo rolled his eyes playfully, “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a human do, and for that, and making me laugh, whatever. You can stay alive.”

Ranboo let out a deep breath they weren’t aware they were holding, “T-thank you!”

Just before he was about to move, the naga had him scooped into his palms, and Ranboo was lifted into the air defenseless. They let out a yell as their body was dangled above the monster. Tubbo grinned, giant fangs on display as Ranboo kicked and flailed.

“Wait- you said!-“

Tubbo snickered lowly, “I said I won’t kill you, but I still want to mess with you.”

And with his dark admission, Tubbo began to lower Ranboo’s shaking body to his open mouth. The human let out a cry again, pleading once more uselessly.

Tubbo wrapped his forked tongue around the human’s body, pulling Ranboo into his maw. He swished the crying person around, pressing his body to the roof of Tubbo’s mouth. The naga gave a hard swallow, and Ranboo sobbed as they were forced down his gullet, sliding along the muscle down, down, down…

Tubbo scoffed, “Stop crying, Ranboo. I’ll let you out when it’s morning. You’re nowhere near the nearest human town, so I’ll help you when I’m done hunting, okay?”

The human was trapped inside the naga’s organ, saliva dripping off his wet body. Ranboo shivered, blinking through the disgusting wetness, “W-what?”

“You’re safe,” Tubbo’s voice explained, muffled, “I’ll deal with you later, okay?”

“O-okay…?” Ranboo tried to sit, crossing their legs as they shifted uncomfortably. If they didn’t start digesting in the next minute, they might just believe the snake. He hushed, staring at the organ walls surrounding him. At least it was warm, and somewhere to stay until morning.

Tubbo sighed, already exhausted. He looked to the ground, picking up an allium and placing it behind his pointed ear before he left his den.

[rinwellisathing]

It's A Thankless Job: Part 13

Wyll turned the key in the lock to his apartment door and walked in whistling happily. A good work out and a hot latte made most mornings just a touch better. In one hand, he balanced a coffee holder, in one space his usual caramel latte, in another was a chai latte for Jaina, and finally a chilled, blended, beautiful abomination of red, yellow, and orange topped with whipped cream and sugar for Karlach. “Oh, looks like you forgot to bring one for me. So rude, Wyll.” An unpleasant voice chastised from the living room. Fuck. Wyll raised his eyes to see Scratch and Nibbles on one side of the room, far from the couch, both with their ears flattened and fur raised, on high alert. Jaina sat in the battered old blue recliner her father had given the family, arms folded across her chest and glaring daggers towards the couch. Karlach stood behind Jaina, looking ready to stop her if she made a move, but glaring in the same direction as her. There on the couch was a haughty looking woman in a fine dark blue suit with a black jacket draped over her shoulders. Four long horns jutted from her head between strands of smooth red hair. Her lips curled into a nasty smirk. “Wyll, you little stinker. Forget to tell me you were trying your hand at politics, did you?” She taunted. “Gods dammit, Mizora. What are you doing in my apartment?” Wyll groaned, a look of abject disgust crossing his face. “Hmph! Your whole little family was just as unwelcoming. You know, your little fish wife there tried to hit me. Naughty naughty, you know what happens when we don't listen...” Mizora grinned, eyes focused on Wyll's horns and then his tail. “Well, he's here now so you can stop fucking with us and let us in on why you're our uninvited guest today.” Karlach spat. “Gods, only you could ruin a perfectly good frozen blend.” She grimmaced, but still gave Wyll a nod of thanks as he crossed the room to hand her her drink.

Mizora cleared her throat and shook out her shoulders. “Right! So, according to our contract, Clause D. Paragraph 5: Should the undersigned acquire political office, they must use their newly obtained power to undertake the appropriate level of tasks for their patron....You see what I'm getting at...”

Wyll grimaced, looking away. He felt his fists clench and unclench at his sides as he considered. He didn't think of this possibility when he'd agreed to run for mayor, he hadn't imagined Mizora might find a way to insert herself into this. And of course, he knew, he really should have. Why wouldn't she, the way she insisted on ruining every aspect of his life she possibly could. He was vaguely aware of Karlach gently pressing Jaina back down into the chair as the smaller tiefling tried to make a move towards the Cambion. Everything around him seemed to fade into the background, though, as the gravity of his situation hit him. For all the lives he'd saved, Mizora could force him to ruin or take even more. There had to be a way out. Mizora sighed and rolled her eyes at Wyll's lack of response. “Well, I can see you're very busy...I'll be on my way...Just remember this discussion, hmm?” She got to her feet and made her way slowly towards the door. “Oh, and Wyll? Next time I come, you may want to lock up your pets so they don't cause trouble.” Her eyes shifted to Jaina and Karlach with a sneer as she walked out the door, shutting it loudly behind her. “You should've let me case that bitch in a nice big ice cube.” Jaina frowned. “Oh believe me, I'd have enjoyed that.” Karlach sighed. “But if we hurt her, she hurts Wyll. You know that as well as I do...” She eyed the horns atop Wyll's head. “WE didn't hurt Mizora. Wyll refused to do her dirty work, that's how that happened. She's a vindictive, self-important load of garbage. None of us did anything wrong.” Jaina shot back, looking at the ground. “I know, but there's the implication.” Karlach's face twisted with a look of guilt. “I don't wanna be responsible for anything else happening to him...” “You're not responsible to begin with, I made the choice I knew was the right one.” Wyll interjected. “Both of you, please trust me to continue to do that....I really do appreciate the desire to stand up for me, but we need to be clever about this..” He crossed to the couch and sat down. “Well...I guess with any contract, a legal professional is a good place to start...I think last time I took Scratch for his shots, Dr. Silverbough mentioned in passing that one of his partners studied law....” Jaina tilted her head in consideration. “We could start there.”

“Alright. Nibbles has a checkup over the weekend, I'll talk to him about it then.” Wyll agreed. “There's also that guy with the ads around town, those 1-800-HOPE ads, you know?” Karlach offered. “I mean, odds are he's an ambulance chaser with basically zero credentials, but you never know. He certainly LOOKS shady enough to be the platonic ideal of a lawyer.”

“We can't rule anything out.” Jaina agreed.

“Let's start with Dr. Silverbough's friend, though, if it's all the same to you two.” Wyll decided.

----- “I haven't practiced law in years, how exactly am I supposed to help your friends with a contract, no, more than that, a contract they can't even show me?” Astarion scoffed incredulously as he sat across from Halsin at the small table in the upstairs dwelling's kitchen, looking over the message on Halsin's phone. “I think at this point they're just looking for advice, my heart.” Halsin replied, shaking his head. “It's a sad situation, indeed.” He had heard the story of Wyll's pact before. The young man was fairly open about it and during some of their longer visits (Owlbear cubs ate so many things they shouldn't, after all), Wyll had gotten to talking about the day he decided to become a fire fighter. “Yes, well, sob stories aside, what exactly do they expect me to do about it? Seduce this woman into releasing him from the contract? Because that's about it at this point.” The vampire rolled his eyes in exasperation, his voice dripping with sarcasm. It stung a little, being approached for a skill he'd worked so hard for but could no longer use. Halsin lowered his head, guilt in his eyes. He hated seeing his lover like this. He wondered if he shouldn't have asked to begin with at this point. He gently reached out and placed his hand over Astarion's. “I'm sorry I put this on you. Truly, I thought it might help to be able to use that knowledge again...”

Astarion looked away, eyes cast downward, ears slightly lowered. “No, it's my fault...I know what I'm good for and it was foolish to ever pretend there was something else.”

Halsin approached him slowly, gently cupping his chin in his hands and tilting his head up before leaning down to press a kiss onto the vampire's lips, tender and gentle. He realized his error quickly, however, when those red eyes widened and Astarion shoved him back quickly, scrambling to his feet. “Don't. Touch me.” He snapped. “Not when I'm like this. I've told you before...” He was shaking a little. “I...I'm sorry.” Halsin stepped back, hands up apologetically. “I should go....I'm sorry I couldn't be more help.” Astarion refused to meet his gaze, voice cold and bitter as he grabbed his jacket from the chair and made his way out the door before Halsin could protest, leaving the druid alone. Halsin looked at the ground, shoulders heaving with a sigh. He knew he shouldn't have done it. Astarion had told him before. He chastised himself mentally for failing to resist that impulse.

---- “Oh shit, guys! This is that lame commercial I was talking about! Come here!” Nocturne shouted through a mouthful of chips. She was laying across Shadowheart's lap on their couch. Rolan was frantically re-organizing their absolutely chaotic bookshelf, Sentry was off in a fairly uncluttered corner with a visor around his head playing some VR dance game Shadowheart liked. Sentry removed the visor and walked over, flinging himself onto a beat up second hand chaise lounger and looking at the TV, Rolan deigned to briefly turn his head from his self-imposed task, as the TV showed an elegant man in an overpriced blue suit sitting at a piano. “Hell, Hell, Hell knows the laws

Hell, Hell, refer to the clause, Marriage flawed? Prepare to be awed. Pick up your phone, for now we're taking your calls” Shadowheart and Nocturne burst out laughing. Rolan visibly cringed, rolling his eyes and returning to his sorting. Sentry chuckled at first, until he got a better look at the guy at the piano. His heart rate quickened, breathing becoming heavy. He felt his head spinning again and his mind was back there, swirling with alcohol and whatever else had been in his drink, his body aching and bleeding. 'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck' Was all that was going through his mind as he tried to center himself, to catch his breath before his friends noticed. “Hey, you okay man? I mean, the jingle was bad, but I didn't think it would literally kill anyone.” Nocturne asked, sitting up and looking over to Sentry, her expression becoming one of concern.

Sentry stared blankly for a moment and then shook his head, forcing a laugh. “Oh, yeah, no, it was ghastly. Straight up made me feel like I was gonna puke, that's all.” He grinned. “Well try not to do it on the floor, gods know this place needs enough attention without a literal puddle of vomit.” Rolan snorted from the book shelf, but as he looked briefly to Sentry, concern crossed his face, recognition. Nocturne nuzzled into Shadowheart's lap as the elf kissed her between the horns and picked up the remote, beginning to flip through the various lackluster streaming services for a good horror movie, leaning back on the couch. Rolan furrowed his brow as he slid another book into its correct spot and then walked slowly over to where Sentry stood, sort of just turning the headset over in his hands absently.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyebrow raised as he looked Sentry over. “Uh...yeah, just didn't really 100% that last song before Nocturne wanted to show us that stupid commercial. Y'know, can't be slipping like that. Next thing you know, my kid sister will be passing me by.” Sentry grinned, rolling his shoulders. “Gods, when I was her age, Gary smoked me at DDR pretty regularly, I'll never live it down if I'm worse at games than my big brother AND my little sister.” “You've got a thousand yard stare over missing a beat in a dance game?” Rolan confirmed, folding his arms across his chest. “In the same way I used to 'fall down' on the way here after work?” Sentry winced. “Oh...oof...Fair...very fair.” He folded his arms across his chest and lowered his head. “Um...let's give them some privacy and get some air?” “Alright, I should probably get back to the shop anyway...Cal never was particularly careful about organization, so I shudder to think how stock duty is going.” Rolan nodded in agreement. The two men grabbed their coats and said their goodbyes to the girls, who barely looked up from their horror movie, only really managing a quick 'bye guys' and a wave. The city was a bit chilly tonight, but no less crowded and bustling than it ever was. “So remember I went to that fancy fundraising gala with my new boyfriend a while back?” Sentry began with an awkward sigh, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head lowered.

“How could I forget? I think you wore the suit he sent you all day and you kept telling us how expensive it was....which is weird for you, in all honesty.” Rolan replied, taking out a cigarette and snapping his fingers, a little flame spouting from the tip of his index finger, which he raised to the cigarette to light it. “Anyway, continue.”

“That guy in that commercial was there. One minute I was talking to him, major prick by the way, very creepy vibes,” Sentry stopped walking, gripping his own upper arms and squeezing tight. “and the next I was starting to feel dizzy and I was in a completely different place...” He inhaled sharply, eyes widening and then closing tightly as he forced himself to control his breathing, fingers tapping nervously. “Then, the creepiest, trippiest thing...he was standing there watching himself fuck me...” Rolan winced and shook his head. “I'm....I'm sorry, Sentry.” He looked his friend over, considering putting a hand on his shoulder, but thinking better of it, he knew he didn't want to be touched when he thought of what he went through, so it made sense the same could be true for Sentry. He took another drag from his cigarette and then tossed it down, stomping it out. “Look, you helped me when I needed it, so if there's anything I can do...” Sentry thought a moment. “Got anything about dealing with Cambions in that book collection you've got?” Rolan paused a moment and considered, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah I think I do...Come by any time, I'll pull some things and we can look through them together.”

After he parted ways with Rolan, Sentry made his way to the park. This late at night, most of the animals were either winding down to go to sleep or out hunting for dinner, the sounds of the animals who made it their home by day giving way to the evening crowd. Sentry debated going straight to Halsin's home to take him up on their conversation from the previous day, but after being so vulnerable, he felt off, wrong. He needed to feel powerful again and the familiar pulse of his urge in his veins was pounding within him. He slipped off into the trees to begin a hunt of his own. A young tiefling woman was jogging on the trail, headphones in, dark hair pulled back out of her face. He felt a sensation like nails on a chalkboard or an abrupt record scratch, the urge screaming in his head to take the easy target, but he pushed it down, digging his nails into his skin. Easy prey wasn't satisfying. He knew there was a bigger prize lurking somewhere, there always was. Slipping into the shadows, Sentry stalked the tree line and behind the bushes. He had the intense feeling someone else was watching the jogger, someone who would be so much more satisfying to kill. His senses were heightened in this state, like stalking cat. His bright eyes saw almost clearly even in the dark of the woods at night. His nose picked up a scent on the wind and he followed it. There, behind the bushes just a few feet away, a figure dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants, an average looking human man. Sentry crouched not far from him, still unseen, ready to pounce. As the jogger passed, singing softly to herself, ('She has such a nice voice...' Sentry thought briefly) the human stepped out of the bushes, knife drawn, the girl turned and cried out, eyes widening. Sentry was quicker, though, his fingers wrapped around the human's neck, sharp black nails digging in and carving a messy chunk as he yanked him back. The woman staggered back in terror as Sentry pulled the man to the ground, his throat to ruined to even scream. The knife and the soaked rag that had been in his hand fell to the dusty trail and the woman's eyes fell to them and then looked to Sentry, his own hood pulled low over his face. “You should be running.” Sentry growled as he pinned the squirming human beneath him and sank his teeth into his spurting neck.

The young woman didn't need to be told twice and she darted away down the path. Sentry distracted the bloodlust that told him to go after her by tearing out a portion of the human's throat with his teeth and beginning to claw his chest, tearing his hoodie to ribbons and leaving long gouges in the skin beneath. “My, aren't we having a good time, my putrid princeling.” Fel's voice cooed from behind Sentry. “I couldn't help but notice, however, that tonight's kill lacked your usual creativity. I do caution you about letting the urge go for too long. It's been two days since you saw a client! My poor old heart would weep if you stopped creating, dear boy, so please, do try to keep your kills prolific and plentiful!” The imp began to fuss over Sentry, toweling off his hands and face before helping him to his feet and producing a plastic bag with a fresh set of clothes, handing them to the young man. “You know, I worry spending time with that druid you were going to see is...perhaps contributing to your lowered kill count lately...If he continues to be a problem, perhaps you could see your way to making him a solution instead?”

[i-cant-stop-fandoming-help]

DRA/SDRA2 Warrior Cats AU: Chapter One

its here finally lol.

-

"'Berry, we ran into a thunderclan patrol asking to see you and Oakleaf," Memorysplash's voice caught the small medicine cat off guard as she re-organized her herbs, "they sounded a bit out of it? By that I mean they were desperate."

Her father stepped into the light cast by the den entrance and shook his brown pelt free of leaves, old moss, and stray cobwebs. "Thunderclan? They're asking for help again?"

Waterberry rose to her paws and tapped her father's shoulder. "They haven't asked for help in moons because of their pride, Oakleaf... I don't know if you've forgotten, but ever since Icestar became leader, they've been more prideful then ever."

"Icestar...? oh, Iceclaw became leader? What happened to Smokestar?" His light brown eyes turned to hers, clouded with confusion and age, "I had no idea she had been on her last life, Waterpaw..."

Her heart dropped at that and she got a few pawsteps ahead, towards the entrance, and blocked his path. "Oakleaf, she's been dead for five moons. I've been a fully fledged medicine cat for ten. I'm Waterberry now. Don't you remember giving me my name...?"

Memorysplash had left by now, which Waterberry felt bad about, but her father's memory was becoming worse by the day, and that was more important in her mind.

Oakleaf jerked his head back in shock and moved back onto his haunches. "What? No, no... You should still be Waterpaw... I... You're only 6 moons old! You just got apprenticed! I haven't trained you in anything yet..."

"Dad, if I was 6 moons old, I would be a lot smaller than I am now...," She let out a shaky breath, "I'm 26 moons old now, Oakleaf. And... And maybe I should handle the thunderclan patrol today... you need a bit more rest, you're beginning to worry me."

The brown tabby frowned in dismay but slowly backed away from the entrance. "If you're sure you can handle it..."

Waterberry dipped her head calmly in response before turning and scampering out of the den, and soon, out of camp. The patrol was led by a large dark gray tom, whom she quickly recognized as Coalboulder. He was a half a moon older than her and, despite being from different clans, they practically completed their apprenticeships together.

On his right was a cream-colored she-cat with medium-length fur, an orange muzzle, and blue eyes- Hayshot. She was younger than the two of them by two moons, but she had a fierce temper that could scare a badger into hiding. Thankfully, she was playful most of the time. On his left was a small tom with light yellow fur, orange ear tips, orange paws, and heavy blue eyes. She had not seen this cat before, but he did look similar to Hayshot-- family, perhaps?

Coalboulder rushed forward when he met her eyes, his large paws stumbling over the river's pebbles so he could lunge and get to her. The small she-cat stumbled back and fluffed out her pelt in alarm, but he did not lunge to hurt her.

"Waterberry!," he gasped desperately, "Do-- Do you have any spare coltsfoot? Frostlight is out, and Honeypaw desperately needs it, and-- and--"

Hayshot leaped from rock to rock as a way to cross the water un-dampened. "Coalboulder, calm down. Waterberry, his sister... ah... Honeypaw, is sick again, and she's been having struggle breathing. Icestar has refused to set out herb patrols, and Frostlight has had no time to go out looking."

The scottish fold sighed and nodded in understanding. "Yes, I should have some. I'll wrap some up into a bundle for you-- you'll have to be careful when walking it back to camp, it could get damaged."

Hayshot dipped her head in understanding and Coalboulder dropped to his stomach to grovel his thanks. The small tom whom had accompanied them tried to hop on over, although he slipped and nearly went splash into the rushing waves. Thankfully for him, Hayshot turned around in time to grab him by the scruff and yank him over.

Waterberry waved her tail in temporary farewell and shot back to camp, allowing her paw pads to be scraped and bruised by the rough stones underfoot, all so she could get what she needed and give it to the patrol in time.

When she returned, Suncloud and Birdstorm were sharing tongues with the patrol-- laughing, making jokes, playfully bopping each other... It was nice to see that clans could get along, even not at a gathering.

Coalboulder, once again, noticed her first, but the small tom got to her before the large warrior could. "I'll take those!" his voice was fierce and determined, just like hayshots, but also carried something akin to worry.

Gently, Waterberry placed the bundle of coltsfoot on the ground and watched with caution as the other gingerly picked it up.

"Ryepaw, remember, you have to be careful! Don't fall flat on your face again!" Hayshot called over teasingly, causing the apprentice to fluff up and spin. Due to the herbs he was carrying, he was unable to say anything, so instead he stomped up a storm.

A few heartbeats later, both clans said their farewells, and Waterberry returned to camp with a clear mind... Until she saw an injured Sparrowpaw.

-

Character guide:

Waterberry - Kanata Memorysplash - Sora Oakleaf - Hikaru Ando Suncloud - Emma Coalboulder - Kakeru Hayshot - Kiyoka Ryepaw - Ryutaro Icestar - juu kinjo Smokestar, birdstorm, and sparrowpaw are all ocs of mine.

[importantchaosgiver]

Help From An Unlikely Beast

Okay, I know this is rather random, but bear with. I know I haven't updated The Light of Days in ages, but please trust the process. P S. This is a Shockwave x Oc. My Oc is a neutral Wolfcon in the war and was left on Cybertron. GIFs aren't mine.

******

It had been quiet for too long. The entire planet had been cold and dead for eons. Not that the temperature was any different than last time. But, to see all of the rubble, rust and destruction from battles long since past seemed to give the planet a whole new meaning of dark and dilapidated. Everywhere was a ghost town. Quiet, destroyed and rusting away. Just a canvas of rust oranges and browns, dull grey silver and the sky seemingly in a constant state of gloom. And yet, some on the planet still lived. Hidden away, forgotten.

It was one such creature like this that trotted through an abandoned battlefield, scouting around, using it's olfactory sensors to detect any Energon. What exactly was it? Well, it was a rather large wolf. A metal one of course. It's metal were dark shades of purple with the occasional golden stripe going through it. The wolf's eyes were a bright yellow and scanned for the old battlefield for anything. Not there wasn't much already. But, you never know. So, the wolf sniffed around, trying to find anything it could use or mend. That's when it caught a scent of something different. Energon, certainly, but it was different. It could smell pain and confusion. If you wonder what those smell like, don't bother asking. The wolf (now interested) began climbing the mounds of scrap metal, trying to find the scent. As it got closer, it heard grunts and groans of pain. Whatever it was, it was alive. The wolf hurried up until it's trot had turned into a jog. Passing a mountain of scrap, it saw something partially buried and laid on top of a scrap heap. Being the curious wolf it was, it drew closer to investigate. That's when she saw what it was. It was another Cybertronian. Not a Wolfcon, but a Cybertronian. Nothing too special. But this one was intriguing. It only had one optic and that was smashed. It was blind. By the frame, the wolf assumed it was a mech.

The wolf sniffed around, but halted when it saw a mark. The mark of a Decepticon. The wolf was tempted to snarl, but should it hold a grudge? After all, it was on neither side. Seeing how helpless the mech was, the wolf decided to pitch in. Gripping the mech's gun arm between it's sharp denta, the mech knew then he wasn't alone and tried to bat whatever was attacking him back. The wolf growled, making him stop.

"Who is there?" he asked. His tone was stoic, almost unfeeling. But the wolf could smell slightly fear. The wolf growled softly, nudging it's head into the mech's servo. "Are you helping me?" the mech queried. The wolf yipped as if saying yes. "What do I do?" he queried. The wolf wiggled his servo to rest on it's muzzle and nudged it's snout at his stabilisers. Getting the idea, he got up. Slowly, the wolf began walking. The mech understood. It was going to show him to somewhere. Although, where too, he didn't know. He was sceptical. Whatever this thing was, it could be leading him to an Autobot outpost. But something about this particular creature intrigued him. The wolf went slowly as to not let the mech fall behind and his servo fall off it. A few hours passed and the wolf reached it's desired destination. It opened a door and lead the mech inside. He heard the door his shut behind him, his antenna on the side's of his helm twitching a little. Was this a trap?

The wolf guided the mech to the side of it's little base and jumped onto him, it's paws either on his shoulder-plating, prompting him to sit down. He did cautiously and realised he was right on top of a berth. Before he knew anything, he was knocked out by the wolf's tail. How courteous.

When the mech woke up, he realised something straight away. He could...... see? He saw the dimly lit ceiling above him. How? He was rendered blind?! "Good to see you are still alive," a female voice said. The mech shot up and looked to his side. He wasn't expecting what he saw. It was femme with wolf-like tail and ears, purple and golden paint, sharp grey servos and yellow optics. She stood with both hands on her hip-plating. His gun arm charged up and aimed at her carefully. "Now, is that any way to say thank you?" she chastised. "For what?" the mech asked. "For helping you. If I hadn't found you in that sea of scrap, you'd be a fine addition yourself. You're lucky. Now, please put that away," she said, raising an optic-ridge. The mech thought, but seeing as the femme posed no threat, he did as requested. "Thank you. Now, what's your name?" she asked. "Shockwave," the mech said.

"Decepticon too. Well, now you can leave me alone to my eternal solitude," she said. "It would be illogical to not ask for your designation," Shockwave said. The femme looked back at him. She rolled her optics. "I'm going to scout. You better be gone when I get back," she growled, transforming into her wolf mode. But Shockwave wasn't giving up easily and followed her outside. "It is illogical for you to not answer," he said, walking alongside her. She said nothing and clambered up a bunch of scrap. However, Shockwave was a curious and determined mech. After making sure it was safe, he began climbing up the mountain of metal. "You really don't know when to give up, do you," the femme said, transforming into her bipendial form to speak. "It is logical for an answer," Shockwave said. "Ugh, logic this. Logic that. You're illogical. Don't you ever quit it?" she growled. "No," Shockwave said bluntly as he reached the top of the pile.

"You're stubborn, I'll give you that. Fine, I'm Steelclaw," she said, walking down the pile towards the old battlefield she found Shockwave in. "Your designation is familiar," he said, still following her. Steelclaw scoffed. "I wouldn't expect you to know me. It wouldn't fit in with," Steelclaw said, eyeing him up and down as he halted his steps. "Your area of expertise," she finished, continuing to walk. "Do you have a brother known as Steeljaw?" Shockwave asked all of a sudden. Steelclaw froze in her stride. "What did you just say?" she asked quietly, slowly turning on her heels. "Steeljaw is a Wolfcon. It would seem logical, due to your similar designations, you are in someway related," Shockwave said. "Are you saying, my spark-brother...... is a Decepticon?" Steelclaw asked, her tone low and dangerous. Shockwave noticed her body language. Her servos were clenched, her denta were bared and her ears were flat against her helm. She was not happy.......

[forthedancingandthethriving]

(I d e a s.)

TW: Blood, injury, and death

○●○

"Shit-!"

Tama let's out a muffled cry as she's dropped to the muddy ground. The cloth around her muzzle is stained with both blood and now mud too.

She wriggles in her binds the best she can to sit upright. Mud and rainwater cling to her fur as she squints, head throbbing and vision blurry.

It had all happened so fast. Some random Cats had broken into her room, grabbed her, and ran.

Tama didn't know whether to be annoyed or upset, considering this was becoming a slow recurring theme. Cats were taking her a lot more often now. Word was slowly getting out she was from the long forgotten Aire Village, and they were known for their strange affinity for magic. Among.. other things.

"Found you." The voice of Dolion hisses. There's two pairs of footsteps.

"I'm going to make you wish that it was Valiant who found you first."

"W-Wait? Cozbi?! Is that-?!"

Tama squeezed her eyes shut, and it felt as though someone was covering her ears.

Do not open your eyes, kit. The wind whispers to her. Do not open them.

She doesn't. She doesn't open her eyes to see Dolion cut down the kidnapper's body. She doesn't hear how he snarls.

She does, however, feel as she's picked up.

The paws move from her ears, and Arthur whispers, "you can open your eyes, Tama."

Tama doesm. Arthur is smiling down at her, his cream-colored fur gently catching the light. He presses his nose to her forehead. "You aren't hurt, right?"

She shakes her head before pointing to the cloth around her muzzle. He blinks in surprised before carefully cutting it off. With a soft hum of a spell, the cuts and bruises on her were gone too.

"What happened to the other bad guys?" Tama asks softly.

Arthur doesn't look down at the blood mixing with the mud. "They're all taken care of. Do you know why they took you?"

"They said something about getting paid.." She remarks softly.

He nods. "Sleep. We'll be back at the castle soon."

The kit nods and rests her head on his chest, closing her eyes. He watches her closing, before the Flamepoint cat turns his head.

His ears lower a bit, seeing Dolion standing over the one body and the few others he had cut down when the first dropped Tama. The brown and white Ragamuffin cat's grip on his sword was trembling.

"They knew your old name." Arthur spoke softly.

"Someone back in Devos employed them." Dolion finishes his thought, turning his head.

Silence hangs for a moment before Dolion kneels down, plucking an emble off of one of the kidnappers. He frowns.

"What.. is this?"

Arthur approaches and his ears pin back.

The emblem seemed to be golden, but it was far too yellow and orange. Carved into it was something clearly.. not a cat. It’s muzzle was too long, and it maw was wide open. It was standing on four legs, fur bristled.

".. terrifying." Arthur whispers, tail bristling.

Dolion pockets it before sheathing the sword he held. "Lets get going. Valiant's going to what to know what happened."

"Do you think she'll be upset?" Arthur frowns as the two begins to walk. "That we just killed them?"

"No." Dolion answers matter of factly. "You know she won't."

He nods softly, and his tail gently wraps around Dolion's. He smiles as his partner's does the same.

○●○

He kneeled before the queen, wrists bound behind his back. Commander Valiant held the tip of her sword to his neck, but her face was conflicted. Arthur stood by the queen's throne as Queen Melody looked down with a slight frown.

"You were desprate." The queen of Luminos finally spoke. "You wouldn't have taken King Umbra's bounty if you weren't."

It was silent before he spoke. ".. You're right. We're all desprate." He laughed coarsely. "I thought that, 'hey, here's a chance to get out of this hellhole'."

He hung his head more. "And, even if I fail, I'll die. I won't have to stay there anymore."

Valiant's eyes had softened the smallest bit. "Who did you work for?" The commander still demanded.

".. the group has no name." He admitted. "But, sometimes, we go by the Teeth in the Dark. It's what the Cats in Devos call us."

".. what is your name?"

"Cozbi."

Queen Melody frowned. "If Arthur hadn't stopped you from putting that poison in my tea, would you have still done it?" An unknown emotion crossed her eyes. "Or.. would you have drank it yourself?"

The silence hung in the air. His answer was apparent.

"Valiant, step away from him."

The commander nodded, and she took those steps back. The heels of the queen clacked as she descended the stairs. Soon, she kneeled in front of her would-be murderer.

Gently, she cupped his face to make him look at her. Gently, she brushed a finger over his fur.

"Be one of my retainers," she offered, "and I will offer you protection from Umbra. This incident will never be spoken of. I'll make it seem like you disappeared." Queen Melody smiled gently. "You'll be safe here."

His throat had felt so dry, that day.

And yet the tears had fallen when he said yes.

○●○

Cozbi. "A liar, sliding away."

Dolion. “to deceive,” “to lure craftily,” “to use deceit��� or “to lie.”

To outsiders, the name seemed almost identical. But not to Dolion. This new name was not only his way to atone, but to till do what he did best. Lie, to keep himself safe. But now, it extended to those he cared about.

Entering the palace, he merely smiles as Nimbus and Ambrosia rush up, with the Songbird taking the now sleeping kit from Arthur's arms.

"They're getting bold." Queen Melody remarks as she approaches. From behind, the familiar sound of metal clanking as Commander Valiant approaches is also heard. "This is the first time they did a kidnapping."

"That, and someone from Devos did it." Dolion narrows his eyes.

"Devos?" Nimbus's fur bristles. "How do you know?"

"Their accents, and.. this." He takes the emblem out of his pocket. From the way it was made, it was clearly from Devos. There craftsmanship was undeniable.

But the animal..

"That's some sort of canine." Nimbus frowns.

"Canine? Like those strange animals SMG8 sometimes has?" Valiant tilts her head

The Avatar nods. "Sort of, yeah. But it's really hard to tell what this one is.."

"Regardless, I'll bring this up with King Damien next time I see him." Melody sighs. "I thought the cats of Devos were happy under his rule! By Bliss, I'm going to get gray furs at this rate.."

Dolion frowns as he looks at the emblem.

He didn't know why.. but he had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be the last time they'd see this symbol.

[porcelain-clown]

The Kraven Problem

Penelope Parquette, aka the Araignée du Cirque, [the circus spider] is sent on a mission to retrieve a Kraven anomaly with Miguel O'Hara, her close friend and confidant. But when the anomaly bears a striking resemblance to the same Kraven who destroyed her old life, Penelope is thrown for a loop. A loop that is made worse when Kraven starts trying to flirt with her.

also on ao3! user nyxtryx 🫶🏻

trigger warning for death, fire animals dying, etc. this is super evil backstory for my spidersona.. have fun!

i'll update as i write, no promises lmaO

“A Kraven anomaly? Vous plaisantez j'espère?” [are you kidding me?] Penelope exclaimed as she thwipped alongside Miguel, shooting him an exasperated look. 

“Relax. Should be a pretty quick in-and-out.” Miguel grumbled, dismissively waving his hand before the pair settled behind a pile of rubble in Central Park, watching carefully as the Kraven anomaly rambled to nobody in particular about the state of the world with a thick transatlantic accent. He pulled a small, toothed comb out from seemingly nowhere, slicking back his Danny Zuko-esque hair with a flourish. 

“LYLA, what do we need to know?” Miguel spoke quietly, as to not disturb the prowling, large man. LYLA, chipper as ever, popped up, her glitching yellow screens displaying scrolling data about this Kraven. 

“Shouldn’t be any trouble, guys. He’s not even a successful villain in his own universe. Just web him up and toss him through a portal!” LYLA chirped, pushing her pink sunglasses up her nose with one hand as she used the other to swipe past multiple displays of video footage, showing Kraven sitting in the back of many, many cop cars. LYLA vanished, leaving Penelope and Miguel, crouched behind the rubble, to analyze and attack together. 

“You alright, clownie?” Miguel tilted his head, flicking at Penelope’s shoulder affectionately. She bristled slightly at the nickname, but seemed distracted, her overpainted clown makeup doing nothing to hide the anxiety in her eyes as she kept them trained on Kraven, refusing to look away. 

“Ce bâtard… looks just like him…” [that bastard] Penelope muttered under her breath. Miguel nodded slowly, realizing. 

[earth-0254. paris, france. many, many years ago.] 

“Ma précieuse araignée, nous devons partir! Les… animaux sont arrivés.” [my precious spider, we must go. the animals have arrived.] Guinevere, her long blonde hair, typically woven into the tightest, most perfect ballerina bun, now loose around her shoulders, falling across Penelope’s face as she sat up groggily in her sleeping quarters. The scent of smoke quickly filled her nose. She turned to the dreaded sight of the far lip of her tent curling into orange flame. 

“Guinevere? Est-ce que les chevaux sont en sécurité ? Où est Monsieur Jamesion?” [guinevere? are the horses safe? where is mr. jamesion?] Penelope blinked rapidly, her movements becoming increasingly frantic as she threw herself up and out of her nightclothes. 

“Je dois vérifier les chevaux. Monsieur Jamieson est avec le reste de notre troupe. Il n'y a que vous et moi qui sommes partis rassembler les animaux.” [i have to check on the horses. mr. jamieson is with the rest of our troupe. it's just you and me who are left to round up the animals.] Guinevere spoke, her crisp blue eyes darting around frantically. The tail end of her sentence was muffled, as the pair covered their mouths with the sleeves of their dresses to combat the growing plumes of smoke. 

As Penelope and Guinevere darted out from beneath their tent, they caught a glimpse of their attackers. There were 6 men, all but one wearing various taxidermied animals as masks. They were tall and menacing, each one covered in various furs, holding torches and laughing at the way the red and white striped fabric curled and went up in flames. The unmasked one turned, his eyes cutting into Penelope’s soul as he held eye contact with her for a searingly painful moment, which was ended by Guinevere sharply pulling Penelope’s arm. 

“Bouge-le, ma précieuse araignée. Nous n'avons pas longtemps.” [move it, my precious spider. we don't have long.] The intensity of Guinevere’s gaze caught Penelope off guard. She nodded, quickly trotting along. She almost swore she saw Guinevere dart a dirty look back to the sight of the men burning their tent, the unmasked man keeping his eyes on the two until they vanished from his sight. 

When Penelope and Guinevere approached the animal tent, they were too late. The left side of the tent was collapsing in on itself, thick plumes of black smoke and fireworks of angry red sparks rising as the fabric folded and wilted. Guinevere, who danced ballet on the backs of the horses, let out a strange, anguished cry. She threw herself towards the burning tent, opening a flap before Penelope could stop her. The pain-filled wails of the animals bled out from behind the tent flap, as did the horrific smell of them burning. Penelope gagged, the sight overwhelmingly grotesque. She threw her arms out, ripping Guinevere away from the tent, the flap settling back into place.

“Vous ne pouvez pas les sauvegarder. Il faut rejoindre les autres, c'est bien trop tard pour les animaux!” [you cannot save them. we have to join the others, it's far too late for the animals!] Penelope screamed over the howls of the burning animals, fighting to pull Guinevere back from the tent, desperately grabbing at her arms. Guinevere fought back, ripping herself out of Penelope’s grasp so sharply that the two tumbled onto the grass. Guinevere was faster, throwing herself up from where she lay, tangled with Penelope. 

Before Penelope could blink, Guinevere was gone, vanished behind the flap of the smoking, collapsing tent. Penelope’s heart lurched, a twisting feeling getting more intense in her stomach. She let out a strangled scream, tripping over her own feet as she stumbled beneath the tent flap.

The smell of smoke was suffocating, filling Penelope’s eyes with hot tears as she attempted to filter the smoke with her sleeve again, to no avail. She spotted Guinevere in the distance, untying one of her horses from his post, tears streaming down her face as she tried desperately to calm the braying, kicking animal down. 

“Guinevere!” Penelope cried out, her voice getting whipped away by the sounds the animals were making, the smoke filling her throat even faster. She choked for a moment before her spider senses activated and she turned quickly, dodging a blow from the unmasked man who had tried to sneak up behind her. 

Penelope dodged another blow. She gasped for air as she thwipped away from him, unable to tear her eyes away from his daunting figure, the smoke making any intense movement unbearably difficult. 

“Que veux-tu?” [what do you want?] Penelope cried out to the man. He grinned, showing off sharpened teeth. More animal than man, a predator. Penelope thought. 

“Je suis Kraven, le chasseur. vous connaissez ma troupe... les Chasseurs Voyageurs. mon maître de piste bien-aimé nous a demandé d'éliminer votre pathétique petite troupe. Moins il y a de concurrence sur le marché, mieux c'est.” [i am kraven, the hunter. you know my troop... the traveling huntsmen. my beloved ringmaster has asked us to eliminate your pathetic little troop. the less competition there is in the market, the better.] He shrugged at his last few statements, a smug movement that flared Penelope’s anger. With a cry, she threw herself towards him, landing a small barrage of punches, bruising his face only slightly before he quickly overpowered her, throwing her to the ground with one arm. She glowered up at him, his smug face smirking down as she rolled to desperately get away from the assault of harsh kicks and stomps he began aiming at her head. 

From her position on the ground, Penelope twisted her neck to see Gunievere, finally able to get her horse to calm down enough to untie, narrowly avoiding a flaming piece of tarp that came crashing down in front of the horse’s legs. Penelope screamed her name out again, her voice dying at the end of her throat from the smoke. Quickly, she jumped up, fighting Kraven with a refreshed purpose. She finally managed to get him on the ground, immobilizing him with her webs. 

But she was too late. Guinevere whirled in circles, searching for a way out, completely overwhelmed by the heat, the smoke, and the sound of her beloved animals screaming in excruciating pain. In her distracted, distressed state, her shoulder harshly caught a load-bearing wooden beam. Penelope ran over, seemingly in slow motion, as she watched the flaming beam splinter and collapse, a burst of red sparks and woodchips flurrying as the beam split, the flames growing larger as the beam sliced down onto Guinevere’s head. She collapsed with a shriek, the untied horse spooking and galloping off into the night. 

Penelope fell back, the flames from the beam catching quickly to the grass, spreading rapidly towards her. She turned, dashing out of the tent, too shocked to cry. Flashes of the pale blue crinoline that made up Gunievere’s tutu swirled in Penelope’s mind, her perfect posture as she grinned a row of pearls and turned on one extended, strong leg while a large horse galloped beneath her now a thing of the past, faded away and burned. 

[snowfox8382love]

A story while y’all wait?

Hello everyone, I’m kind of busy helping with spring cleaning, we only have a week before we can’t do it anymore so here is a story I made a while back for those who are bored and want something to read.

!!DISCLAIMER!!

(this is a rather sad story involving Dooley dealing with the mermaid’s curse. It involves blood, cursing, and sexual tension.  A warning has been advised.)

  Late night swim.

Dooley's eyes slowly opened to reveal a breathtaking view of the sea. The salty scent of the ocean filled his nose, and he felt the warmth of the setting sun on his skin. He took in his surroundings and noticed the yellow and orange sand beneath him, with footprints leading out ahead of him. The ocean stretched out before him, its vastness and beauty captivating him. As the sun set over the horizon, the sky transformed into a canvas of pink and purple hues, creating a stunning view of the serene scene before him. Despite the beauty that surrounded him, Dooley couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. Was he lost? How did he end up here? These questions raced through his mind. Before he heard it, McQueen's voice echoed further off in the distance.

"Dooley! Come on!" McQueen shouted, waving his arms to Dooley, a small smile on his face.

Dooley's heart beat slowly as he saw him, tears grew in his eyes. Was it him? Was it really him, or was this a sick joke? Dooley didn't care as he ran, faster and faster. Yet the further McQueen seemed to become. But he wasn't moving his legs, nor was he running to Dooley as well. His eyes soon glanced back to the sea, as he saw it.

The waves...seemed to be getting larger, and were they changing in color? They were, they were becoming red...a deep shade of red. A red Dooley knew, his heart raced as he looked back at McQueen, his expression not changing, from his warm cozy smile, and eyes that felt like they stared right through him. The waves getting closer and closer to McQueen's feet, Dooley opened his mouth to scream, yet nothing came out. He stopped trying, running faster and faster, finally seeming like he was getting closer to pull him away from the ocean's grip.

McQueen looked out at the sea, and so did Dooley, to see the large waves above both of them as he could hear McQueen speak.

"Dooley, I'm sorry. I know we talked about growing old together...but this is where my story ends...please take care of yourself."

Dooley quickly looked back to him as the wave consumed McQueen whole, he screamed with all his heart before the wave did the same to him.

The water felt warm as it covered his body, he held his breath, but the pressure felt like cars balancing on his chest and back, his arms numb and weak. His eyes closed tightly, as he could smell the salt from the ocean mixed with a metallic scent peeking through. Before he felt it, his eyes opened widely as he saw him. The curse that had ruined both of their lives. The curse that broke McQueen's mind and body.

Dooley looked at McQueen above him, his tail wrapped around his body, squeezing his chest more and more, his eyes looked empty and void of any color or light, just darkness. The fins on the sides of his head vibrated as he leaned in closer to Dooley's face. His lips were inches away from his, Dooley wanted to pull away, but it was like he had no control over his body. McQueen's hands were on Dooley's arms, his claws digging deeper into his soft skin, the blood danced in the water around them making the ocean darker...and darker. Yet nothing seemed as dark as the eyes that stared at him.

It soon became too much to hold as he opened his mouth to see the bubbles covering his face, as the darkness faded away, but not the pressure nor the pain in his arms from the claws that pierced his skin. When the bubbles were gone, he could see a ceiling, with lighting he had only seen in one place. McQueen's old bedroom...If it was like how Dooley remembered it, he slowly turned his head to the right seeing him. McQueen in his white tank top, the blankets covering the rest of his body, as he clings to his arm while reading a book. McQueen soon glanced his gaze up to him before saying softly and worried.

"Bad dream? Do you need me to fall asleep with you again?" His voice was soft and warm, comforting and calm.

Dooley didn't know if it was real or not, only staring at him, too afraid to blink or breathe. He didn't want this to be a lie as well. His eyes were normal, and his heart froze at just the sight of them. Dooley's hand was placed on McQueen's cheek, feeling how warm and soft his cheek was. Leaning his head against McQueen's breathing heavily before muttering under his breath.

"Please don't be a lie, not again. Please don't be." His voice was weak and shaky.

McQueen didn't say anything, placing his hand on Dooley's, intertwining his fingers with his. Time felt slow, soon McQueen closed his eyes, breathing slowly, as Dooley followed his breathing pattern. He refused to close his eyes, if this was still a dream, he didn't want it to end. He didn't want to wake up to the empty apartment, with McQueen stuck in that form...To open his phone and see the text messages from people he knew telling him to give up. To let him go, to hear them call him sick for even keeping McQueen away from the sea.

It felt like hours had passed, Dooley's eyes felt heavy, and McQueen gently pressed his lips against Dooley's, a soft color of pink covered his cheeks. Soon McQueen pulled himself closer, his other hand leading Dooley's free hand to McQueen's waist. Dooley didn't feel it, his mind was only focused on the kiss, his lips...they felt cold and a little wet. McQueen soon pulled away from the kiss, his breath heavy and warm.

"I missed you, Dooley." His voice was soft and rough, Dooley could feel his face covered in a hot pink blush.

McQueen pressed his body against Dooley, kissing him again, his hand that was leading up his hand softly hovering up his arm. Soon stopped at his shoulder, gripping tightly, his kiss trailing off his lips to his neck. Dooley couldn't help but moan under his breath. It was hard to keep his eyes open, soon his arm pulled in closer, laying his head on McQueen's shoulder.

"McQueen, I missed you too, please don't leave me again." His voice was rough and hot to McQueen's shoulder, as he heard the water run.

"But Dooley, don't you remember? You already left me behind." McQueen's voice was hollow and cold.

Dooley froze at his words. He shivered as he pulled away from McQueen and looked back into his eyes. When he saw them, he bolted away from him, falling off the edge of the bed. Fear covered him, looking back up at McQueen.

"Are you going to leave me behind again, Dooley?" His empty voice said while laughter followed behind it.

As Dooley saw them again, the eyes of the empty void filled him with fear and anger. Why couldn't he leave him alone? Was it not enough that he already stole away his best friend and partner, but now he couldn’t have one normal night of sleep?

McQueen slithered off the bed, the sheets sliding right off to reveal the shark's tail where his legs should have been. McQueen tries to close the distance between them, saying in a low voice, "Are you leaving me behind again, Patrick? What, you're not strong enough to save me at all?"

Dooley shouted back, tears in his eyes, fear and anger his only shield. "STOP IT, NO, SHUT UP!"

McQueen kept getting closer, and Dooley could see his sharp teeth glow in the dim room. The sound of the teeth clicking grew as he said in a weak sad voice.

"Patrick, you're breaking my heart, why are you yelling at me..." His need to get closer stopped, his breathing slowly getting heavier as it started to sound like a growl, growing in pain.

McQueen's body looked like wax melting, as his eyes slowly gazed back at him, his large shark teeth barely closed to see the big puff of heated breath come through. Before Dooley could tell what McQueen wanted, he saw his hand reach high above his head, screaming in an ear-piercing shout.

"I SHOULD BE YELLING AT YOU!?" His hand rushed to slash at Dooley, missing and hitting the floor next to his leg, as he started again, shouting even more!

"I HAVE BEEN STUCK LIKE THIS FOR HALF A YEAR!? HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE MADE ANY PROGRESS-"

McQueen struck his hand inches away from Dooley's eye before he shot out of bed, seeing the room he knew. The dark gray room, his bed in the corner. Dooley breathed heavily, looking around in fear. "Was it real?" he kept repeating over and over. Soon noticing the bedroom door slightly open, he sighed as he looked down to see the cursed mermaid-formed McQueen cling to him, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Dooley slowly picks up McQueen and takes him back to the tank in the bathroom. His emotions felt frozen, as he slowly and safely placed him in the tank, ignoring his chirps and clicks as he closed the door behind him.

Dooley slowly slid his back down the door as all the emotions finally hit him, his hands rushing to his face crying softly in the hope no one would hear.

[loveisafire-warriors]

Chapter One

Ao3 counterpart

POV: RUSTY

Rusty sighed as he quietly went out the cat flap, feeling the stone under his paw pads and then the grass in his fur as he walked in the backyard. The sound of crickets chirping made his fur relax back onto his pelt, tail held high as he jumped onto the fence.

Turning at the sound of a cat heaving themselves up onto the fence of the house next to him, and by the smell of kibble and human, it was Smudge. “Hey, Smudge.”

“Heya Rusty!” Smudge moved to sit next to him, and Rusty flicked his tail happily as the black and white tuxie spoke with a chuckle of mirth in his voice. “Are you looking out at the forest again?”

“Yeah… wondering what’s in there, you know?” Rusty didn’t expect Smudge to agree with him, and was proven right as the other tom stuck out his tongue and made a noise. “Bleh, probably mean wildcats. Grumpalump told me that they’d rip our pelts off if we went in there, so best not to risk it.”

“Grumpalump is suuuuuper old though.. Maybe he’s gone senile.” The orange tom joked, snickering as he was gently shoved by his friend. “Harrumph! Being so mean, Rusty. A cruel cruel cat.”

Snorting, Rusty gently flexed his claws into the wood, tail lashing as he stared out into the woods. Wildcats… A whole group of them? He wondered what their lives were like without a human to feed them or care for them, how did they stay healthy? What were their names? Were they nice? He so badly wanted to know.

“...Please don’t tell me you’re thinking what I think you are, Rusty.” Smudge spoke, fear for his friend lacing his words, and Rusty’s ears drooped. “Just for a look!”

“A look might get you killed! Do you want to die?!”

“I don’t want to die, Smudge.” He mumbled, ears flicking backwards as he stared into the forest once more. An uncomfortable silence washed over them, and Rusty thought about what he could see, become friends with, maybe even hunt. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave Smudge or his human or anything, he just wanted to take a peak.

As long as he went back to his human with any injury, he’d be fine. The vet would fix him up. 

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He tried to comfort, “and if I’m hurt, my human will get me to the vet to fix me up!”

Smudge sighed and eventually nodded, looking at him with fear still in his eyes. “Promise you’ll be back?”

Rusty nodded back to him, gently licking his shoulder and nuzzling against him.

“I promise.”

“Alright but… be careful, Rusty. Princess and Big Mama would kill me if you weren't back home safe…” Smudge muttered, nuzzling against him in return.

Princess, Rusty’s sister, had always been protective, and Big Mama was a mother to every cat in the neighborhood, so he wasn’t surprised at Smudge’s reasoning. A warm feeling engulfed his chest as he thought about their worry for him.

Jumping down from the fence, Rusty began to creep towards the forest, tail held high and wiggling in excitement. The bushes gently pushed against his fur as he walked, staring up in awe of the giant trees and their canopy. He could hear a bird, was it a bird, chirping nearby, and he shifted into a makeshift crouch in order to try and catch it. Looking for the thing, he muttered quietly to himself. “Not there… not there…”

Though, as he spotted the blue and white frame of the animal, creeping slowly forward, there was suddenly a body barreling into him. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed on the floor on his back, staring up at the yellow, curious eyes staring down at him. 

The tabby tom was grey, and very fluffy, looking quite young despite his huge size.

Rusty leaned backward and kicked the tabby in the face, scrambling away with his fur puffed out.

Maybe Smudge was right…

[kpforpresident]

Since we're talking angst, 3. Bonus points if you mix it with 28 😈

3- goodbye, 28- a lie

Well, as we all know, I’m a hoe for bonus points. I twisted this one a lil, hope you’ll still love me :) 

//

The muted beeping of the monitor quietly provided the background noise to the sterile white room, the heavy sting of antiseptic making Lexa’s nose tingle and her eyes burn. Muted voices hovered outside of the room, fading quietly into the stilted somber mood that hung around them heavily. On a shiny metal pole beside the table, a heavy bag of Lactated Ringer’s slouched, the drip drip drip of fluids wending their way slowly through the clear plastic tubing. 

Lexa stifled a small, sad, sigh as she once again wiped her teary eyes on her sweater sleeve, squeezing Clarke’s hand tighter to try and provide some semblance of comfort. 

A sob broke out of Clarke at the motion, tears pouring from her as she turned to Lexa, a sad little hiccup following. 

“I’m, I’m, so sorry, Lexa,” she cried, her huge wet eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Lexa slung an arm around her, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline as she struggled to breathe through the massive hole that had been punched in her chest a few hours ago. She had been crying since Lexa had sprinted home from work upon receiving the unexpected afternoon call, picking up during a lull in her caseload to hear a completely hysterical Clarke on the other end of the line, sobbing repeated I’m so sorry on a loop. Panicked, Lexa had tried to wring an answer out of her girlfriend as gently, urgently, as possible. 

“F-fish got out through the f-front d-d-door when I was taking in groceries,” the high pitched voice had said on the other end of the phone that Lexa gripped in white-tipped fingers, the panic making Clarke sound almost unrecognizable. “Lexa, someone hit him in their car, they didn’t even stop, we are headed to the vet now, but please please come-” 

Lexa had already hung up as she was bolting out the door of her law firm, throwing some excuse at her fellow associate as she ran out into the street to fetch the first cab she could. 

She had owned Fish since before she had met Clarke, a high school graduation gift from her sister and her father. She had cried so hard she almost choked when they presented the wriggly, good-smelling bundle to her the night of her ceremony. The eight pound golden lab had licked every inch of her salt-coated face that he could reach as his tail wagged madly. 

Lexa had named him after the aquatic animal, much to Anya’s dismay. She refused to hear Lexa’s logic that he did look like a goldfish with his orange-yellow coat that shimmered in the light. Fish had squirmed in joy, and that was that. 

At seven years old, he had been slowing down recently, their routine Brooklyn morning pre-work jogs more leisurely walks. But Fish had been there with Lexa when she had moved to New York alone, had been the velvety ears that she had petted nervously before picking Clarke up on their first date, had pranced happily with her in her postage-stamp sized kitchen when Lexa ran home, victorious after she had first kissed Clarke in Central Park. He had moved with them into her new apartment, as much a fixture of their lives together as anything could be. Clarke had loved him almost as long as Lexa had. 

Lexa had selfishly, secretly hoped that he would be in their wedding someday, decked out in a bowtie, tail wagging so hard that the flowers bowed in his wake. 

Lexa furiously swiped away another stream of tears as she sank to her knees in front of her boy, sedated from the cocktail of drugs the vet had pumped into them to buy them time to say goodbye. 

“Hi, baby,” she croaked softly, burying her shaking hands in his blood-matted fur. The vet hadn’t offered any treatment options when Lexa had burst into the room to see Clarke sitting with her face buried in his fur, shoulders shaking. Dr. Lisa had bowed out with a sad smile on her face, telling them they could take as much time as they needed, they would keep Fish calm and pain-free for as long as they needed. They had draped a white sheet over his lower half, gently telling Lexa it was best if she didn’t see the extent of the damage. Lexa had trembled as she nodded quietly, hands clasped in front of her. 

Lexa wanted to scream that she simply needed more time, that this wasn’t meant to be how they said goodbye. She had pictured it in a far-off, fuzzy sort of way, when he was old, gray spattering his sweet face. A picnic in his favorite park, as many hamburgers as she could convince Clarke to let her give him. A sunlit patch in their living room as they said goodbye. 

Not in a sterile, white vet room, Clarke crying quietly beside her. Lexa tried to stifle another sob as Fish’s tail wagged weakly, whites of his eyes rolling as he tried to follow Lexa’s voice. 

“It’s ok, baby,” she soothed, nodding at the vet tech that had popped her head through the door, clear syringe in her hand. “It’s going to be ok, everything is going to be fine.” 

Clarke pressed against her side, quiet as she dropped her head to Lexa’s shoulder, sniffing quietly.  The vet tech came in and quickly, gently, cleaned the hub of his IV port, pressing the liquid through. She pulled out the IV after fluidly, wrapping a blue stretch wrap around his left paw. Lexa pressed one last kiss to Fish’s now-peaceful face, now shaking uncontrollably. 

“Bye, my sweet boy,” she whispered, trailing her hand along his ribcage as his breathing slowed, and then stopped. 

Clarke and Lexa sat in that little room for close to an hour, crying and talking about their favorite memories of Fish, an occasional watery laugh breaking through on a recount of some of his naughtier antics. Eventually, Lexa stood, offering a hand to Clarke, who slipped her cold fingers into Lexa’s. 

They shared a sweet, sad kiss as they slipped out the door, pausing again for a moment as Lexa tucked his collar into her pocket. 

Lexa pressed one more kiss to Clarke’s quivering lips as they turned to trudge home, snow now falling thickly through the air. She slung an arm around Clarke’s shoulders, tugging in a bitterly cold breath as tiny snowflakes dappled her flushed cheeks. 

“It’s ok, love. It wasn’t your fault.”

[milf-harrington]

Hi hi!! Pls tell my abt ur modern sk8/atla crossover i rlly wanna know the gaang's S personas it all sounds so interesting ^_^ <33

okay so i dont have much of a plot for it yet other than like, the gaang are kind of friendly rivals to the sk8 characters, especially the younger ones - they kind of stick to their own beefs and stuff but after the whole Ad*m (censoring for the mutuals) they're like "actually it'd be kinda fun to see what these guys are made of" so they start challenging reki and langa and miya to beefs (and then eventually shadow and cherry and joe) and then like slowly they all become friends at S and reki and sokka both start being nerds over skateboards and designs and stuff and the adults start adopting the gaang like they adopted Their Skater Kids

and now! the S Persona's!

Katara/Painted Lady: she keeps her hair braided on both sides w blue string and has her face painted like the painted lady but this time with dark blue. her board is shaped a little like a surfboard (she's a surfer outside of S) and has waves painted along the bottom, she also specialises in skating in the rain and takes inspiration from surfing for her skating tricks Keeps a water pistol strapped to her thigh that she sprays in peoples faces to get them to stack it (the first time she skates against Shadow she takes great joy in spraying him in the face before he gets a chance to sabotage her, and she gets the added bonus of making his makeup run so he couldnt see - safe to say he was devastated about being taken down by a 14 year old)

Aang/Avatar: wears a beanie w an arrow on it and a big mustard-yellow hoodie + orange cargo shorts, his board has a cartoon of a sky bison on it (kinda like langa's yeti??) and he’s named it appa; he keeps a light blue scarf wrapped around his lower face to cover it; he specialises in air time and showy tricks but he’s also really good at adapting too and copying his opponents skating styles

Toph/Blind Bandit: wears a blindfold and skates barefoot bc she fears nothing, she never uses jumps or rail slides but she somehow always knows where every dip and turn is and she’s never distracted by how scary something looks bc she goes entirely by feel; she does have an interesting habit of scraping her board just right to send dirt flying under the other persons wheels to make it wobbly

Suki/Warrior: wears a gladiator styled skirt and shin/arm guards + dark tights, wears her kyoshi face paint and keeps her hair tied back w tassels & uses her fans like moths use their wings, to confuse and alarm her opponents. she has a similar skating style to joe but with a purposefully feminine air to it + her board has a painting of the unagi on it w green wheels. she’s also really good at skating backwards. she also has white tape wrapped around the front of her board, and when people lose to her she gives them bright red lipstick to put on and they have to kiss the front of her board - it started off as just a joke between the gaang when they first started at S and she couldn't think of any stakes but now it’s just commonplace (and a way to fight back against toxic masculinity)

Sokka/Wolf: wears a bandana around his lower face and dark eye makeup + a backwards cap (or maybe a beanie, i also dunno if he has his hair down or up) also wears a cropped hoodie bc i said so. kinda like cherry, he calculates the angles and speed and shit while he’s skating, he doesn’t rely on tricks or sabotage but he’s creative like langa. His board is also bright blue like langa’s lmao but it's got a boomerang spray painted on the grip tape on the tail

Zuko/Blue Spirit: nasty as fuck skater, will straight up kick you off your board if he feels like it, he’s mostly at S for the adrenaline so he likes taking risks and just being unnecessarily dramatic about things - he THRIVES in the factory part of the tracks. Keeps his hair tied back and wears a face mask w the blue spirit face on it + a cap. His board has dragons dancing on it and the wheels are blue and orange.

[red-moon-shine]

operation redesing 1

finally i finished this...

with some luck the information is still readeable and i hope it is,but if its hard to read,just zoom into the image.

but asuming and knowing my horrendus hand writing dosen't let you read i will traduce what is writen.

still i cant promise something better as my english sometimes fails since is not my born language.

<<<

Loading data...

Personal status

name: mis

age: 22 irken years old

species:geneticaly mutated irken

gender: male

height: 6'3 feet|1,95 cm

weight: not confirmated|lower than average

category: defective

actual profesion: archivator|mail man

actual rank: supervisor of defective quarantine station delta

Militar status

>retired

>ex-elite

>used to be an assassin|spy|pilot

Familiar status

-explorer ikarus|mother| <deceased>

-scientist viridis|father| <alive-working>

-elite soldier take|brother| <alive-in service>

Fisical health status

blood: usual reddish fuchsia,but due to an blood transmision illness is slowly turning to a sky blue tone.

scars: over the 78% of his body,including an enter one in the back and the out one in his chest.

missing limbs: none

another problem:

>half blinded,almost lost his right eye in a figth with an elite

>half deaf,the explosion of a plasma grenade burned his left antenna and blow his left side inner ear due to proximity

>has some problems breathing and regularly coughs,in bad cases coughing out blood

>suffers bad fisical pains he usually reassures with strong pain killers

>insomnia and sleep deprivation

>sometimes will ramdomly faint or fall asleep out of nowere whithout knowing why

>will trow up his own blood at least once in the day in consequense of the illness he has

>has a very bad dust alergy

PAK status

>broken and malfunctioning

>refuses to fix it afther a long while with it in that state

>either way PAK tecnicians refused to rapair it since he is an defctive,and with that statement he dosen't have the privilage of them rapairing it

Mental health status

>has an severe non treated ptsd he somehow hides

>has an mild dissociative amnesia over certain events of his live

>conpulsive obsession disorder

-usually centered on cleaning and having things in order

>has an very severe case of DID |dissociative identity disorder| with 3 registered identitis

-Eco

|sensitive,nervous 24-7,calm and shy

|cries or gets scared easily

|passionate historian,knows a lot of idioms some even forgotten

|to tell apart the right eye will turn to an very dark blue and the pupil will turn into an water drop form,while the left one shift into a bright green.

-Sai

|inpulsive,prideful,strong headed and aggressive

|has a very short pacience and gets angry very easily

|fight maniac,likes to pick up fights to find an 'worthy oponent' and usually or more likely always wins

|to tell apart the right eye turns into an bright red with some sort of diana kind of form as the pupil,while the left one turns to an indigo kind of color

-Kira

|unpredictable,misterious,bromist and problematic

|sociopath kind of behaviour,has no self preservation

|insane medic,knows almost everything on the medic field but usually does very unethical things just for his entertainment

|to tell apart the right eye turns into an fuchsia kind of color with an X as a pupil,while the left eye turns into an sort of minty-green color

Phobias

>slight scopophobia

>slight claustrophobia

>mild thalassophobia

>mild hafephobia

>bad arachnophobia

>Strong cathisophobia

Extra information

-can and will sleep in the most weird and awkard places or poses ever,even hang upside down from celing is a way to sleep for him

-loves animals especialy felines,canines and reptiles,has a pet called honey wich is an slimy kind o cat-ferret creture made of an yellow orange goo

-can be considered a good baby sitter for smeets since he dosen't mind them

-it's an absolute workaholic and caffeine adict,prefers working for hours than relax and drink 30 cups of coffe before sleep

-his horns and tail tip are in reality stings as well his fangs wich can be detached afther biting,theyhave an strong paralisys poison that is not lethal unless the person attacked is alergic

-his usually calm and cold but sometimes can be inpulsive or a bromist trickster depending on the situacion

-tends to show cat or bee kind of traits,like purrings or feline conducts like hitting porpusly something at the corner of a table,make unconcius buzz like sound during some sentence or eat flowers

-knows how to cook but is usually doing something else and dosen't have the time or money for ingredients,he also loves eating having no preference in food

-can lift up to 8 times his weight being able to pick up the tallests on his arms,is also incredibly fast both runing or fliying,especially while fliying

<<<

also curious thing i got inpired by this kind of bee for this redesing

they are australian blue bees also known as amegilla cingulata :D

[celestial-fucking-weeb]

NAGĀ!SERO

Hey y’all! This is a part of the Citrus Server Hybrid!AU Collab! The masterlist is HERE, please please please go check everyone’s pieces out!

A/N: I am fully aware that this is all over the place, ya girl is off her meds and will edit later. Please don’t tell me it sucks, I already know and I hate it, too.

SERO HANTA X F!READER

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, smut, double penetration, aphrodisiac, interspecies miscommunication, size kink, breeding kink, mating, idk tell me if i missed anything

You had always heard stories about creatures in the forest; ones that eat humans, ones kidnap children, ones that would hurt you if you ever ran off by yourself. You didn’t believe them… Or maybe you did, but either way, the creatures could never be as scary as the life you already lived.

You had been taken prisoner when your coastal village was raided by pirates. Your clan’s viking warriors were off on a journey, leaving all of you oh so vulnerable with depleted numbers. They were going to kill you, like they did most of the others, but the pirate setting fire to everything in his path halted when he found you trembling under the rubble.

“Tomura, come see the new toy I found. Don’t you wanna keep her?”

“You sadistic bastard, how you get off to them crying like that never fails to make me sick. I don’t care what you do with her, Dabi, but I’m not cleaning up after you this time.”

They hauled you back to their ship, stripped you of everything and chained you in the hull. People came in and out, always different but always vile. You never spoke, you knew they wanted your screams. Overhaul, the captain, was the worst. You never knew when he was coming, and once he was there, you wondered what he wanted from you at all. Chained up, never touching you with anything but knives and his boots, not looking for your reactions… You wondered if he’d even notice if you stopped breathing. You dissociated for most of it, choosing instead to safeguard your mind, plan an escape.

About a year later, you found an opportunity in the carelessness of one of your captors. You docked someplace warm, someplace humid, maybe tropical? Toga had left your chains too loose after your last “date”, and had tossed the keys just a bit too close. As soon as she left, you had slipped your wrists out of the restraints, strained for the keys, and unlocked the shackles around your ankles. Not taking a moment to revel in the surreal feeling of being unchained, you listened until the heavy footsteps above you all faded into nothing, leaving the ship and most importantly: leaving you alone.

You ran. You ran so steadily, somehow comforted by the sounds of destruction getting further and further away. You found yourself blindly sprinting into a forest that looked nothing like your own, so damp and bright and warm. You kept running until you heard shuffling behind you, causing you to find the first thick vine hanging in your vicinity and clung to it as you climbed. Looking back, you see a simple boar grazing the forest floor. Sighing in relief, you relaxed a bit too soon, as the vine you had wrapped yourself around began to move.

Before you could react, you were wrapped up tightly in bands of muscle and brought towards the head of the- wait…- man? You had heard of nagā before, but the ones from your village’s stories were never described as so… tan, muscular, handsome. He didn’t look all that mean from the waist up, just the black, orange, and yellow scales trailing down his massive, strong tail seemed intimidating. He looked confused, concerned even, by your nakedness and panic stricken silence. Forked tongue flicking out to taste the air, smelling the blood and the abuse on your skin, seeing your quickly defeated body give up, and your mind resign itself to the comfort that at least you died free of your captors.

“Are you… okay?” The giant snake rumbles, human hand reaching towards your face and recoiling when you flinch.

You haven't spoken in months, your silence having been a security blanket, and you’re not ready to give that up. You do nothing, just look into his eyes and search for any sort of indication as to what he’s going to do. He loosens his grip a bit, just enough to slip down from his tree and head towards his hide- an old cave covered in ivy, moss, and little orange blossoms. He brings you in, and places you down on the ground before turning away to rummage through his things. He brings out water and bandages, along with some kind of salve that looks like a mixture of plants. You don’t reach for the water when he sets it near you, so he resorts to using the tip of his tail to bring it to your lips while his hands are busy tending to your wounds and gently rubbing the salve over your poorly healed scars. He offers you food, very confused when you don't seem to know what to do with the forest rodent he’s brought you, and decides on fruits he’s found. You don’t seem to want to do anything, not even going to sunbathe even though you’re obviously shivering.

THAT’S IT!!! SHE’S COLD! He thinks to himself, before wrapping his tail around you once more and bringing you outside to the rock where he typically warms himself. He gently places you down, uncoils you from his grasp, and gives you enough space to move as you please. You blink a few times, slowly realizing you’re free. He helped you? For no reason? He doesn’t know you…

“H-Hi… Thank… Thank you.” You mutter, looking away and blushing.

Cute… He thinks. “YOU TALK!!! What’s your name? I’m Sero, but you can call me Hanta! I was worried about you! Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?”

The line of questioning makes your head spin, and you try your best to answer before looking down and realizing you never found clothes. Blushing once again, you meekly gesture to your body and ask, “C-Clothes. I need clothes.” Hanta looks confused, but retreats to the cave and returns, bringing you a large piece of cloth that somewhat resembles a hemp blanket. It smells like oranges and spice, and you unconsciously snuggle into its comfort. Sero notices your calmed reaction to his scent and approaches you, gingerly grasps your ankle and picks up your leg, never having been so close to a human, and explores the strange angles your appendages bend.

“What are you doing?” You seem embarrassed, despite the number of people who've touched you before. This is too familiar, too intimate, almost too gentle.

“Tiny… Humans are… Small…”

You let him bend your limbs and play with your squish, strangely calm and trusting in his presence. He seems so enthralled by your body and how you move, so intrigued. That is, until he makes his way to massaging your plush thighs, causing a rush of arousal you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He prys opens your legs to continue his ministrations, not knowing the smell of your lust would have him flicking his tongue out and his eyes turning to hyper-focused slits. He suddenly releases your legs, slithers around your back, and presses against you. He taps the top of your head with his chin and waits for your response. Not knowing what this means, but wanting him to continue his exploration, you lean back into him and whine quietly.

You have no idea what you’ve started.

Hanta leans down, pressing sweet kisses down the column of your throat and leaving scathing bites in all the right places. Aphrodisiac venom coursing through your veins, you don’t even register his muscular arms wrapping around your body and lifting you, carrying you back into his cave and up into his hammock. He wraps his strong tail completely around your torso and takes his time kissing and groping your soft body, mumbling “mate, mate, mate” into your heated flesh. He finally makes his way down to your mound, prying your thighs apart and diving straight in before you could question his reverent gaze.

“HANTAAA~” You practically screamed as his long tongue slipped between your folds, running along your clit and down to your clenching hole, his saliva increasing the heat coursing through your core. “M-More, please… More~”

“More, what?” He smirks against your heat. “Say it. Tell me I’m your mate and I’ll make sure you’re fucked dumb, yeah? My pretty little mate.”

You stutter for a moment, getting more desperate the longer his fingers drag along your wetness. “Mate… Please! I need you… I’m yours!”

“Good mate~” His tongue wriggles back into your cunt, and his fingers slowly move further down to stretch your tight ass, making you squeal in surprise. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, all thoughts abandoning your mind as you ride out your high on his face and fingers.

“Are you ready, little one?” He growls lowly, lining up two long, thick cocks with each hole. Your eyes widen in surprise, head clearing for a moment after your climax.

“T-two?! Wait wait wait, I’ve never… I can’t! Two?!”

“Oh, little mate, but you can and you will!” He punctuates his statement by spitting down onto your cunt, thick venom slipping down to your tight rim. You moan and grind against his cocks, aphrodisiac leading your body into a blissed out state of submission. “Gonna fill you up so good. I promise you’ll be so full, feel so good, little mate. Trust me?”

“Y-yes! Wanna be full, want my mate!” You beg and plead for him to push into you, hips bucking against him, trying to get him to satiate the burning want he’d created. It isn’t until you thread your fingers through his hair and wrap your legs around his waist that he thrusts into you completely.

“That’s it, wrap around me like that. So tight, so warm… Fuuuck!~” Sero pants, chest pressed tightly to yours and face tucked into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking deep marks over your pulse point.

You’ve never felt so full, your body strangely welcoming the pleasurable stretch of your holes, pulling him deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your belly with every roll of his powerful hips. Your whimpers and tears only seem to spur him on, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your body.

“S-Shit, keep squeezing around me like that. Come on, little one, I know you have one more for me. Cum with me, I wanna feel you cum one more time. Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so good. Come on, pretty mate- fuck- cum for me~” He reaches down and pinches your overstimulated clit between two fingers and bites down on your neck one last time, sending you over the edge with a cry of “breed me, breed me, breed me!” and nails digging into his back.

“Mine! My mate, pretty little mate. Breed mate, all mine!! Gonna- gonna… Ah~” Hanta’s words steadily fell from his lips as he released deep inside your holes, belly bulging from the sheer amount of seed he spilled into you.

Utterly exhausted and dreamily floating off, you cling to him. Sero wraps you up in his tail and lays back into his hammock, keeping you as close as he can. When you snuggle into him, he whispers little praises into your hairline, a constant stream of “so good, pretty mate, all mine, i love you, so perfect, did so well, took me so well, such a good mate”.

The next day, you wake up surrounded by soft cloth, feathers, fruits, fluffy furs, a dozen shiny objects and pretty dried flowers. You sit up, looking around frantically for your mate before your eyes settle on a sheepish-looking Sero, wiggling nervously around the cave.

“Um… Do you… like it? I made it for you… I just- please tell me you like it!” He shrinks himself a bit, arm coming up to palm the back of his neck.

“Oh, is this a… nest? It’s- It’s very nice. Thank you, Hanta!” You smile softly at him, curling up into your nest and reaching out for him.

“MATE!!! I’m so happy you like it, I was so nervous!!! My mate. You can stay here all the time, so I can protect you, forever! My pretty little mate.~” He climbs into the nest and coils himself around you, content to guard you.

Maybe this time, being kept isn’t so bad.

[crescentblossom66]

A hat in time writing prompts: Prompt 17: Ache

Sometimes he wondered what was wrong with him. He had everything that he always wanted. He owned half of a movie studio, destroyed the competition every year at the Annual Bird Movie Awards. The people loved his movies and he enjoyed making them, then how could it be that sometimes this wave of anxiety and sadness just came over him, especially when he was alone with his thoughts.

The yellow owl jolted back to reality, staring at the string of words that he had written absentmindedly. 'They jumped onto the train, jumping onto the train, leapt onto the tr-'. He growled, why couldn't he focus? Why wasn't he able to come up with something good?

He decided that maybe he just needed some fresh air, on rare occasions when he had the time, he actually enjoyed a nice stroll outside on the dusty trail that led further into the desert. As he took the elevator up to the ground floor, the ear-deafening music from his rival's set reached his ears. On the best of days it was annoying, but now was near maddening, it soured his mood even more. It was already quite late when he started writing, and they were still playing music up there. The Conductor reached for his old pocket watch, 11:23pm, those peck necks really didn't know when to quit, did they?

His thoughts trailed off again, the loud ruckus reminding him of the sheer volume in his house when he returned after a long day at work many years ago. Now it was just...empty. He shook his head to clear his mind of the bitter sweet memory and tried to focus back on finding the plot line for his next movie. The elevator arrived and he exited, dragging himself through the dark, silent sets that were so full of live just earlier today, but now were completely abandoned. He was kind of happy about that though, if the express owls saw him like this, they'd lose all respect for him no doubt.

“No, no, don't worry about it, it was my pleasure!” A cheery pleasant voice reached his ears right before he was about to open the door to the lobby. He had heard that voice before, but where?

He slowly pushed the large double doors open and watched a female cat in chef's clothes wave at the penguins on the set of his rival with one paw, in the other she had a plate of freshly-baked cookies. Her left ear twitched and she turned toward the black-clad bird, who turned his head away as soon as her bright yellow eyes fixed on him.

“Oh hello, sorry I didn't notice you there.” She gave him a big smile, that somehow dispelled some of the oppressive aura that threatened to crush him before. The normally quite vocal bird couldn't find any words to say, his mind drew a blank for some reason, he was quite thankful when she continued to speak.

“Where are my manners, I'm Cooking Cat.-” She started to walk closer to the owl, who out of reflex crossed his arms defensively, the orange cat however didn't seem to pay any attention and only came closer, stretching her paw out for him to shake, “-You must be the Conductor, Hat Kid and Bow Kid told me a lot about you. You share the studio with DJ Grooves, right?” For a moment he blankly stared at her outstretched paw before he actually grabbed it.

Internally he scolded himself for somehow being unable to talk at all, she was just being friendly and he had no issue with her. Why the peck did his vocal cords decide to not operate now of all times!

“Aye, lass, that's me.” What kind of lousy response was that!? He was the BEST director on the whole damn planet, and now she'd think that he was nothing more than a bumbling idiot!

Her expression shifted, she looked at him more closely, which caused him to stiffen and his feathers to rise up a little. “Are you okay? You look a bit tired.” Maybe she was right, he probably was to tired for interacting with others, it was almost midnight after all.

“Jus' a wee bit exhausted, don't worry yerself.” She thought a bit for a moment, her tail flicking left and right slowly as she did.

“Here, take a cookie, there nice and fresh.” The cat offered him the plate and he took one with slight hesitation.

“Thank ye.” At least he didn't forget his manners this time.

“I would like to chat some more, but I have to get back to Hat Kid's space ship, they'll worry if I stay away for too long.”

“Sure, have a good night, Cooking Cat.”

“You too, Conductor, you can call me Cookie, I like that nickname.” With that she smiled one last time, turned around and left the yellow owl standing in the dark.

The owl when remembered that he still had the cookie she gave him, he took a bite and found that it was absolutely delicious.

He wondered if he would see her again. Well, maybe he could ask Hat Kid the next time she visits the studio.

[amethystpath-writes]

A Lesson Learned

(NOT A PROMPT)

Hello :) Could you write a piece where the extremely flirtatious villain notices that the hero isn’t taking care of themselves and tries to get them to and promises not to do anything (capture them, etc), but (surprise!) then they do? Haha sorry if it’s a bit specific, adore your writing!

******

“Why, doll,” Villain cooed from behind the bench which Hero sat upon. The bench was old, wood in the process of rotting. Speaking of rot- Villain rounded the park bench, coming face to face with that once-handsome, now-perished face. “Don’t you just look like you sprang from Hell? Yeesh.”

Hero shrugged, not even caring that Villain was here to taunt him yet again- to pick at him with compliments. Usually, anyways. Now, she was insulting him. Did he really look that out of it? Hero felt like it, so it shouldn’t have been so surprising to him. “Don’t feel great- get out of here.”

“And do what? I’d miss the grumble in your voice too much. Come now, my dear, tell me what has that pretty hair of yours so tangled.” Villain’s hand grazed the locks atop Hero’s head, fingers skimming his scalp. She hummed her delight. “How pretty,” Villain whispered into Hero’s ear. “Even if it is greasy.”

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this.”

Good God, what is that stench? Villain could gag- not could; Villain did gag on the smell. “When was the last time you showered, sugar?” Hero certainly didn’t smell like sugar, but it was in Villain’s nature to shoot a flirt at him anyways.

“Don’t know. Would you get your hand out of my hair?”

“You don’t know?” Villain sighed, dropping her hand and rounding the bench until she came to the front, facing Hero and his abnormally large eye sacks. “Oh, darling…” you have jellyfish beneath your eyes. “You should take better care of yourself. I could help you, you know?”

Hero’s eyes grew as wide as they could with eyelids made of lead. “Help me do what? Bathe?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind helping you do that- think of how close we would be, my sweet doll.” She sat beside the broken-beyond-repair hero, dragging a fingertip along his dirtied pants. Villain sighed, slightly bored of this game of chess. Her flirtations were slipping away like a wet bar of soap. What an ironic comparison.

Villain said, “What I meant is this; I’ll give your handsomeness a break- or your ugliness, rather. You need to regain your looks, hence the break.”

Ignoring the insult, Hero said, dead-panned, “And I’m supposed to believe you.” A soft tut.

“Have I given you any reason not to? On this pretty night?”

“Beyond the not-so-subtle insults,” Hero thought aloud, and finished with, “I guess not.”

With a scoff, Villain said, “I wouldn’t call those insults. I could have said much worse- and anyways, you know I’m a tease. I feel even more concerned that you’ve forgotten such a vital detail about me. More reason to leave you alone. Right, my love?”

“I still don’t know if I believe you.”

“Why would it matter what I did or didn’t do when you don’t even care to look after yourself?”

She makes a good point. Still… “What would you do then?” Hero didn’t particularly care to have this conversation right now, but- well, he was a hero. Even if he were too exhausted to take care of himself, it was still his responsibility to protect the people. Just because Villain was saying she’d leave Hero alone didn’t mean she’d leave the citizens alone.

“What would I do? Sulk, mostly. I’d miss your pretty little face while I sat alone on my couch.”

“Right. Because I always sit on a couch with you.”

“There’s a taste of that precious fire. You’re beautiful when you’re sarcastic- and healthy.”

Hero sighed. It didn’t matter what he said, did it? He could tell Villain she looked like a horse’s rear-end mixed with a jackal’s paw and she’d continue sticking around. “You said you’d give me a break.” Of course, Hero still didn’t believe Villain’s words. It was her one and only nature to torment him with pointless compliments- and harmful insults apparently.

As if I didn’t already know I look like crap. I’m tired; that’s all. No motivation to do anything but sit on the park bench. He didn’t even feel like getting up to stretch his legs, despite knowing it needed to be done. Hero would rather deal with the aches of standing than to be forced into using so much energy while sitting. How draining it was- standing up from his position now. That’s why he stayed put, even with Villain’s hand circling in his hair once again.

This time, the hand in Hero’s hair was actually soothing. The tender scrape of Villain’s nails against his scalp. The gentle pull through the hair as her fingers caught on tangles, though the larger knots were a tad painful. Hero hummed his delight at the two former feelings, finding himself leaning into the arm which offered such relief.

On a regular day, one not so adorned with absent motivation and sourness, Hero would have slapped Villain’s hand away- would have told her to go find a dog in the park to pet. Naturally, he would have regretted saying it, thinking that Villain might claw its eyes out instead of petting it. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t do something that serious, but she might have stepped on a puppy’s tail, making it screech- if only to horrify the owner.

“Isn’t this a nice break, sugar?” Villain asked, but, of course, there was more to it than this scalp massage. When Hero fell asleep, with his head on Villain’s shoulder, she would give herself a break- not him.

******

Eyes still closed from having just woken up, Hero pulled his shoulder back against the hard- hard? I thought I was in- His eyes cracked open.

White ceiling. Or, mostly white, at least. There was some water damage that Hero could see even through his blurry and freshly woken eyes. The yellow and orange stains did not belong on his ceiling.

He shifted slightly, body still stiff, but he wasn’t willing to stretch yet- just in case there was…a certain someone…paying attention. Damn Villain, Hero thought, because who else’s home could he be in if it weren’t his own?

It was with this thought in mind that Hero sat up. No use in lounging around. Better off to find a way out before Villain-

“Nice to see those starlit eyes of yours.”

Great. Turning his head, he saw Villain casually sprawled across a couch.

Well, one thing was for certain; Hero had the motivation to get up and run again. At least he could thank Villain for something, even if it were simply the desire to escape.

Sitting up, slowly and stiffly, Hero said, “A break. You were supposed to give me a break. It’s what you said, what you told me you’d do. You would give me a break to take care of myself and you would sulk.”

He could almost imagine Villain’s voice answering with an easy lull, ‘I didn’t say what the break would entail, love.’ Love. Darling. Doll. My dear. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting.

“I gave you a break. Two of them, if we’re being technical. The massage and the shelter. Actually,” Villain smiled at him from her couch cushion, eyes closing just slightly as her cheeks gathered higher and higher. “I might call it liberation- instead of a break. Infinite freedom versus periods of mass depression and showerless nights.”

Hero felt his jaw tick. “What are you talking about?” he asked, voice low- just the way Villain liked.

He wasn’t helping his case any, now, was he? Being all cutesy. It only allowed Villain to enjoy this whole situation more.

“You wake up in your stalker’s home and don’t even think to check your body for modifications? What a pity you are sometimes,” Villain giggled. She meant it as a compliment; it was her way of calling the hero cute and favourable.

Stalker. Well, Villain might as well have been considered as such. She showed up just about everywhere Hero was, only to hold hostages for no other reason than to have control over someone, to hear the fear in their high whines- and to see the fear glistening low in their eyes. Villain was wicked, and she was wicked always in Hero’s presence. Stalker- maybe that’s what the news would start calling her if they, or Hero, ever managed to stop Villain.

Villain grew impatient with Hero’s procrastination of observation. “Explore yourself, won’t you?”

And Hero did now. He looked down his arms, torso, legs, anything that was in his perspective, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, except- “Do not tell me you actually washed me.” His arms were speck and dead-skin cleaned.

“A wet rag against your arms and legs, nothing else.”

Hero simply took her word for it, trying not to imagine how he’d feel if she were lying. How horrendous.

Then what is it? Nothing- absolutely nothing- was irregular, so why was Villain going on about…Hero’s fingers skimmed something along his neck- one of the few things he couldn’t see with his own eyes.

No…no. Not just along his neck. There was something inside of Hero’s neck. “What did you do to me?” His voice came out as a horrifyingly quiet whisper, one that squeaked in the back of his throat.

“You wouldn’t take care of yourself, Hero. I had to step in.”

“I don’t- no. No. Whatever you’re doing, you- you need to- I need to go home. I need you to stay away from me and I need- I need-” Oh no. Was he hyperventilating? He couldn’t- God, he couldn’t breathe. Hero was panicking, scratching at his neck, at the irregular shaped lumps. Get out. Get. Out. Getout. Getout. Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.

A gasp sounded in the room as Hero’s head hit the ground, trying to dodge the zap that occurred at the front of his throat, right where he was scratching so madly.

“Well, I guess that’s a lesson learned rather quickly. Darling, you didn’t even know what those were, and yet you were trying to rip them out. It might have killed you.”

“Uhah.”

Villain quirked her head to the side. “Didn’t get that, sorry. Must have fried your vocal cords- better that than you build up a bunch of infectious bacteria.” Truth be told, the zap wasn’t so bad that it would permanently damage Hero- only give him little tics and make him fret.

“You’ll be so very happy that I took that rag over your skin- otherwise you’d have woken up to your own stench while I was injecting the little stun rods. That would have been difficult,” Villain laughed, legs extending until they laid on the arm of the couch.

“Now,” Villain piped, “there is an outfit laid out in the bathroom- down this hall here”- she pointed- “and second door to the right. Get a shower, bath, whatever you want, and get dressed. I have plans and I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Swerving her legs over the arm- despite having just put them there- Villain planted her feet on the ground and placed her elbows near her knees, leaning forward, all amount of humour aside. “I’m the only one who gets to torment you, you hear me? Not even you have my permission to do harm to yourself or otherwise slack in personal healthcare. If you are in any kind of bad condition, it will be because I allowed it. M’kay?”

She stood, walked several paces to where Hero still sat on the floor and patted his cheek. “I’m making myself food before we leave and while you take a shower. Don’t disappoint me by trying to escape, my dove. You’re in my cage now.” Villain gave Hero a tap on the head as she pulled a remote control out of her pocket with her other hand. For extra measure, she held one of the buttons for three seconds, sending Hero onto his back once again, writhing on the floor- though avoiding scratching his neck.

A lesson learned indeed.

“Believe it or not, I do intend to be kind to you. I just wanted to show you what happens if you decide you’re not worth taking care of again.”

One last click of the button and she was gone, leaving a panting hero behind in the dust.