#Unless he decides you smell REALLY good and decides to give you a taste :')

[chiropterx]

Your POV when Man-Bat is checking you out...

[sorcerous-caress]

Early morning cuddling

[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Lae'zel, Karlach, Minthara]

Part Two

Wyll

The feeling of soft warm breath against your chest is soothing, Wyll's arms are wrapped around your waist with his curled back horns below your neck, safely out of reach.

A quiet squeaking sounds just outside your window, wandering and tapping their beaks gently against the glass, the adoring feathery fans coming to say hello to the prince charming, sleeping in your arms. After all, Wyll has been making a habit of feeding the two mourning doves who made a nest just outside your shared bedroom. It's a good omen, he claims.

But he's sleeping so peacefully in your embrace, it almost feels like a crime to wake him up. Despite how adorable his morning grumpiness can be, sometimes blue blood just never washes off no matter how much Wyll claims he is a humble man of the blade.

The pure cotton sheets and featherly pillows below you say otherwise, but who are you to argue with Wyll-can't sleep unless it's on a 2000 thread count sheets-Ravengard

Calling his name, you cup his face in your hand as he leans into it. Nuzzling into the warmth of your balm as you tell him it's time to wake up. His lips meet the soft skin on inside of your hand and gently give it a small kiss. Mismatched eyes fluttering open with difficulty as he battles through the sleepiness, finally meeting your gaze.

You let him cuddle up to you, the lazy morning weather is really mellowing out your mind and making all the responsibilities awaiting you pale in comparison to staying here on this soft bed, wrapped in your beloved's arms.

Wyll seems to share a similar idea, the hero of frontier happily indulging in the sin of sloth so openly, if only you had a necklace of pearls to clutch right now. Alas, you let this handsome devil lure you back into taking a nap together, ignore the calling of the sun outside your curtains, for the world can await.

♡

Lae'zel

She's awake much before you, only when the sound of running water stirs you awake do you realise the empty spot on the bed besides you.

Lae'zel took her morning training very seriously, slipping away before the sun was up to keep both her body and mind in shape. When the fading stars in the sky are her only companions through her long jogs, a reminder of a home she once knew.

A test of self-will to resist the allure of sleep each morning.

To resist the allure of you on her bed.

Which is why she feels entitled to your touch the second she's finished with her shower, you're the prize she has rightfully earned. Drying off her damp skin as she watches you with keen eyes, noticing the way your eyes linger on each droplet she wipes off of her body.

Finishing drying her hair, Lae'zel finally joins you on the bed after what felt like long hours of torture that realistically only amounted to ten minutes tops.

She smells absolutely divine, her hair is so soft as you run your fingers through it, using it to guide her face closer to yours. Her lips taste just as sweet as her scent, with a hint of toothpaste.

But a kiss is all that you have the stamina for. You can't make it to the second kiss before dozzing off again, mind clouded by the comfort her presence brings. The unspeakable safety you feel in her arms, knowing that she would let nothing in this world ever lay a finger on you.

Even after so many years, she still keeps her sword sharp, just so your fingertips may grow softer each day. Because you at this moment, dozzing off in her arms in the early morning, is what she's fights for everyday.

The two of you stay under the warm blanket, Lae'zel has never felt a greater sense of belonging than in your embrace.

♡

Karlach

Her beloved teddy bear, Clive, is squished between the two of you.

Karlach decided that your arms were at the safest place for the second most treasured thing in her life. Whilst she got to hold you in her own arms, it's a win-win deal.

Wearing very little clothes while sleeping, her engine hums with a soft night-light red glow. Since fixing it, it's become much easier to fall asleep by her side without its blazing light and loud churning, now it's more akin to a glowing amber beneath her skin that you could easily miss in the morning light.

You still grew fond of that hum, the low metallic melody that spelled a promise of a second chance at life to her, to return back what was stolen. Rewind the time and tend to the wounds.

As far as Karlach was concerned, she was living the dream. Sure, fighting had its merits, but nothing could compare to the steady sway of a mundane life. As safe as a baby in a cradle, she relished in every peaceful sleep she was granted by your side.

Her horn was growing in again, the broken one, you noticed that when it started lightly scratching the side of your neck in the early morning. You made a mental note to have a talk with Karlach about changing the sleeping arrangements, after throwing a small celebration for her horn.

Maybe you'll get her a pie from that bakery she likes, it's only a few houses away from where you lived in this small community. And the flower lady did say she got a new batch of sunflowers coming in today, it looks like lady fortune was smiling your way today.

Her strong arms made you feel safe, protected, and loved. Her legs tangled with yours under the cover as she held you tighter.

Peppering small kisses down face, you started with her forhead, just below her horns, and then moved to her closed eyelids, below her eyes, on her cute nose and cheeks.

Finally meeting her lips, just before you could pull away from what was supposed to be a gentle quick smooch, Karlach pushed you on your back and pressed her lips against yours, deepening the kiss and not allowing you the chance to slip away from her hold.

Greedily eating up all of the small noises slipping out of you, her firey eyes met yours as the kiss kept going for a minute before she finally pulled back breathless.

"Damn that's the best way to wake up." She let out with a smug grin, arms roaming your body while her lips meet your neck, a kiss after another.

But they were too light, sleep still clouded her mind as what was supposed to be passionate, neck kissing, turned into a tickling sensation against your neck that made you chuckle.

Karlach seemed a bit embarrassed by her clumsy skills, but she took it in stride and laughed it off, settling for one final taste to your lips before laying on her back and pulling you on top of her. Manhandling you so early in the morning as if you were her personal teddy bear to cuddle up with in whatever position she wished to.

♡

Minthara

It's peaceful, too peaceful for her liking. Not that she ever falls asleep to begin with.

And yet she finds herself following you to bed, joining in this routine nightly as if it was her second nature to do so. Like a guard dog would see you to the front door of your house whenever you were getting ready to go out, waiting at the doorsteps until your arrival.

You don't think she'd appreciate this euphemism if you spoke it out loud, so you keep to yourself, even when you find her waiting for you in front of the house one day when you took a little too late to come home.

With a book in her hand and the reading glasses replacement number forty-six that she will surely misplace or break before the week ends, Minthara retires to her side of the bed next to you.

You'd be lying if you said that her presence didn't help ease your mind, that the sound of pages turning didn't help lull you into dreams. She doesn't meditate during those hours either, prefering to do it for a couple hours during the day when your wide awake.

Maybe it's for safety, why she is so keen on watching over your helpless form. An old habit that came from surviving drow society, making sure no one can ever catch both of you off guard at the same time.

She's in the same place when you wake up, her hair a bit more of a mess with her fingers flipping the book to its final pages, red eyes scanning the writing with care as she takes in the information. They were always in drow language, you wondered what kind did she read? Fiction or nonfiction? Novels or science books? History or biographies?

The only thing you could make out on the pages was the small scribble at the edges of stray pages, where Minthara marked where she last left off with a pen, rather than using the various bookmarks she's been gifted.

The more you focused on the scribble, the more it looked like a tiny spider with way too many legs, but your wife simply refuse to acknowledge that whenever you wondered about it aloud.

Stretching your arms above your head, your back weighted down comfortably on the silk sheets that Minthara insisted on getting. Bright lavender in colour and unbelievably smooth against your skin, like sleeping on top of a cloud.

Seeking attention, you moved closer to her until your head was on her lap, she was sitting with her back leaning against the headboard. Her hand quickly found your neck and softly traced her fingers down your skin, settling on the nape of your neck before giving it a comfortable squeeze to massage your sore muscles.

Her hands felt...heavenly, she always know where to touch you to get the exhumation out. What body points were the most prone to stress, even now her paladin training is still engraned into her soul.

Minthara's touches always held a clear declaration of possessiveness in them, a hunger that may never be sated to own you, body and soul. She embraces you as if you were her lovers in various past lives.

The sound of a pen clicking before a small scribble is added to the edge of the page in front of you is your sign to start the day. Minthara closes the book as her full attention is directed at you, a hungry look in her eyes.

Actual hunger, mind you. You see, princesses never learn how to cook, not to mention drow women nobility, and she has been waiting all night on an empty stomach so this is your sign to prepare breakfast, be it store-bought or homemade, she never makes a fuss.

Although she does make a mean cup of coffee, if you happened to like charcoal as a drink, that is. Drows had to improvise in the underdark with no coffee beans after all. Although what use would an elf have of an energy drink? You're not sure.

♡

[llamagoddessofficial]

Any ideas on the Bad Boys reactions to MC dressing up for a date?

Horror isn't one for dressing up. He feels like putting nice clothes on him is like putting lipstick on a pig. But... he likes when you dress up. He really really likes it; he hovers near you, breathing heavily and intently staring at every detail. You're eye candy to him, and when you dress up you look even more sweet, colours and smells that make him the good kind of dizzy. He could stare for hours. He does stare for hours. He's fighting the urge to bite you - he's also fighting the urge to attack anyone who looks at you too long. This is HIS pretty little human, anyone who gawks is losing their eyes.

Dust is normally such a tough nut to crack reaction-wise. It's always hard to tell what he thinks of things. His reactions are entirely internal, as minute as minute can get; unless you're like Nightmare and can literally read his emotions, it's very hard to know what's going on in his head. That being said. When he sees that you dressed up for a date with him? He blushes very hard. He looks away, flustered, pulling his hood down over his face - for a moment there's a break in the seemingly endless clouds of his mood, and the sky is visible.

Although he acts like he's embarrassed, he really likes when you tease him about blushing. He doesn't always enjoy being so blank, so hard to read it drives away people he deeply cares for. It makes him feel better when you get little victories like that, moments where you 'broke' him; little reminders of how much he really loves you.

Killer, as mentioned in a previous ask, would delight in a partner who dresses up. He has a lot of fun putting together fashionable (slutty) outfits, and if you have something very nice for a date, he's absolutely going to coordinate with you. It's the perfect way to tell the world that you're together. Who needs bite marks? Give him a colour palette, some simple accessories, and half an hour. Everyone will see who you belong to.

Nightmare would love it. He might not say it aloud, but you'll see it in the way his eyelight rakes up and down your body and his voice gets significantly silkier. He sees you dressing up for a date as a high compliment; you thought about your date with him so much you decided to put in that extra effort. He doesn't get many gifts - all this is for him? You shouldn't have...

You'd expect him to want his partner to dress similarly to him. Though he does take great pleasure in you matching his refined tastes, he also just likes seeing you wear things that make you happy. Of course his beloved consort should wear whatever they please. You're his, and that makes you royalty. Royalty do what they like.

[damfangirl08]

Please tell me about a random Linked Universe headcanon you have (Its ok if you dont want to, no pressure)

ooooo i have a fun one! Its kinda multiple ones shoved into one but oh well

The chain's weird relationship with food

Im mostly doing the timeline order because im lazy and unoriginal:

Sky: He can kind of cook but he only ever makes one kind of soup or one singular type of meat in a specific way. I dont think the achademy would let them go off not knowing how to cook. He makes for a good back-up cook and the rest of the chain can be sure he will not put anything weird in it(unless Wild is "helping"). He isnt really that picky, but he doesnt like all foods either. He eats what he is given and likes most of it but i feel like his spice tolerance is shit. They did not have many spicy things on Skyloft. Will not eat Hyrules cooking.

Four: He can cook decently, but he cooks better if he splits, because if not he has to deal with the colors agruing because they dont agree on what type of food is best. There is a 50/50 chance wheter it ends up good or as a weird abomination with too many different types of flavour. Will eat most things but will not eat Hyrules cooking.

Time: He does not care. He can hypothetically cook but half the ingredients end up on the ground or eaten before he can even start. Is not picky at all, this man drinks poes, he will eat Hyrules cooking. And he will not complain at all. He also loves sweet food.

Wind: can make easy fish dishes but he has to have instructions. He is very good at cooking if he can follow step by step directions but he will probably get bored after a couple minutes and start messing with the recipie. He is not that picky and he probably would eat Hyrules cooking, and if there is something in his food he doesn't like he will not tell you because his grandma raised him to be polite.

Twilight: he can cook about as well as Sky, maybe a bit worse. The food he makes is either too bland or too spicy. He will eat a lot of things, including bee larvae, and Hyrules cooking. He probably wont complain either.

Legend: He is actually a really good cook, but he cannot cook over a campfire. Give him a kitchen and he can make amazing food but oveer a campfire? He could probably make something but chances are it would either be burnt or taste like how a campfire smells. He loves baking like his uncle taught him and hes very good at it. I dont get why so many people give him zero spice tolerance but i think Wild would stuff goron spice into something and Legend would just go "This kinda tastes like a subrosian dish" and keep eating. Chances are he would eat a rock roast too. He will eat Hyrules cooking and compare it to food from countries he traveled to. Him and Wild sometimes bond over recipies.

Hyrule: Cannot cook at all ever. Do not let him cook. Ever. He will eat anything. The only reason he hasn't died from food poisoning yet is because he can heal himself. Has probably made a living chuchu out of dinner once.

Warriors: Can make shitty army food that doesnt taste good but is 100% eadible. He could probably make something in a kitchen but he "doesnt have the time" even if he isnt doing anything important. Will not eat Hyrules cooking nor half the things Wild suggests making. Always keeps jerky on him, especially after seeing Hyrule cook.

Wild: amazing cook, however he can and will decide to spontaniously pour goron spice into the food hes cooking. He loves cooking and he is the designated cook for a reason. But the others are often scared he will put something weird into the food because he eats like Hyrule. He will eat Hyrules cooking and he will like it.

Bonus:

Ravio can bake a little bit but he is a lot better at mixing up fun smoothies, milkshakes, or similar things.

None of the Zeldas can cook for very different reasons. Sun can almost cook even if it tastes boring, but the rest? They either suck because the cannot cook at all even if they try(Dot, Dawn), they are used to others cooking for them(Dusk, Athena, Flora) and some dont bother trying to make "good" food because they would rather make "fun" food(Fable, Tetra). Aurora is an outlier who can cook easy meals but usually doesnt cook.

Shadow cant cook.

Malon can cook better than anyone else.

Groose is a great cook.

Linkle is almost as bad as Hyrule.

Myth can bake but cant cook, and Ballad cant do either.

[rogerswifesblog]

If you still take requests for the drabbles:

„I think I want to marry you“ Steve Rogers and reader, fluff please

Hi! Thank you for this request (that was in my inbox for what feels like years😅) but I finally found some more motivation to check out all the requests:) from now on I’ll try to choose a request from my inbox at least once a week to write and post! There’s a lot but I don’t mind if you send new ones. I won’t write it chronological, I’ll just write whatever I’ll be in the mood for:)

My Masterlist

Proposal pie

Warnings: none?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?

You walked into the kitchen, in the hopes it’d be empty since you really wanted to cook something instead of ordering take out. Again.

Since you became an avenger you’ve noticed how little time you had to cook proper meals, especially when you had to go from one mission to another.

But finally you had three days off, unless there’d be a life and world threatening villain terrorizing the city.

After buying some groceries you came back to a mostly empty compound. From what FRIDAY had told you Tony was in the lab, Clint and Nat training and Steve was jogging with Bucky.

You’ve decided on a very simple dish, spaghetti with meatballs, knowing it was Steve’s favorite dish. Even though he hadn’t told you this you had noticed the ungodly amount of orders at the italian restaurant a couple blocks away, always ordering some kinds of pasta.

Maybe he’d like your dish, too, you hoped.

“FRIDAY, please turn on my playlist for good mood”, you said before getting busy with preparing the food, not even noticing when Steve and Bucky walked past the kitchen to their rooms to shower.

“God, it smells good”, Steve whispered to Bucky, peeking into the kitchen and noticing how you stirred the sauce, while still shaking your hips to the beat of the music a little bit. A smile crept onto the soldiers lips, which Bucky definitely noticed but didn’t mention. “It definitely smells good. You should go and ask her if you can have some before the rest of the team smells it”, Bucky said, patting him on the shoulder.

Steve felt himself blush before nodding and slowly walking to the kitchen, clearing his throat loudly to get your attention. But the music was too loud.

“Miss, Captain Rogers is trying to get your attention”, said FRIDAY, turning down the volume of the music, making you stop immediately, “oh god…”, you whispered while slowly turning around to face him.

That was embarrassing. Especially considering your crush on him.

“Hi Steve, how was the run?”, you asked, blushing furiously while also trying to look at least somewhat casual. “It was alright…what…what are you cooking? It smells really good”, he asked, looking past your shoulder to the pan.

A smile crept onto your lips when you saw the appetite growing in his eyes. “It’s spaghetti with meatballs…would you like some? You must be hungry after all the running?”, without waiting for his answer you turned around to give him some of the food on a plate.

When you turned back around he was already sitting at the counter with a big smile on his face. “It smells really tasty”, he chuckled, scratching his slightly damp hair from the sweat. “I hope it’ll taste as good…I have a surprise afterwards, too”, you said while placing the plate in front of him.

After he asked for you to join him too, you sat down in front of him. Then he finally tried the first bite, moaning quietly in pleasure. “Fuck, this is good. Wow”, “it sure has to be to make the captain swear”, you chuckled, eating too.

He ate quickly, without talking much, especially since he had been hungry from all the running. Homemade food definitely tasted better than ordered. It was really good. He hadn’t eaten such a good meal in a while.

When he finished eating (while you still had half of your own portion left), you got up and walked over to the already turned off oven, taking out a pie.

“Wait is that-“ “apple pie. Yeah, you’re all America, aren’t you? With the favorite pie being an apple pie?”, you chuckled while cutting two slices and then bringing them to Steve. A blush had crept onto his face at your comment. “What can i say…I could never refuse apple pie”, he laughed quietly while stabbing his fork into the slice, before wrapping his plump lips around the piece.

He inhaled loudly, closing his eyes. “This is…heaven…”, he mumbled, shaking his head slowly. “Oh my god, I had no idea you were such a good cook and baker…I want this forever.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you listened to his words, “I think I want to marry you”, at which you two blushed furiously and looked up at each other.

“Ask me to dinner first, and then a proposal”, you tried to lighten up the mood, not expecting the coming invite to dinner tonight.

Hi! Thank you for reading!!

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Taglist: @rogersbarber @inlovewithchrisevans

Flood my inbox with HC, Drabble/OS ideas or questions! Just whatever you want to leave there! Anons welcome 😋

[cherry-pop-elf]

Unleashed

Bill Weasley x Reader

You decided to be a good partner and see your boyfriend Bill. You heard he was on vacation from Gringotts, and knew he would be at the beach side house. There was just one problem. The Goblins give him those vacations for more than just keeping his mental health strong. He had one at the end of every month, and the day you arrived was when the moon was out

18+, Dubious Consent ((Not really but respect people who aren’t into that!)) Breeding, Gender Neutral Anatomy Scratching, Biting, blood play, overstimulation uncanny valley, werewolf stuff in general, after care, disabled talk, crying, fluff

Commissions Open

“Oh Billy~!” You sung, as you stepped out of the fire place. You were so excited. Your boyfriend was on vacation, and that meant you could hound him with kisses and cuddles. As a Curse Breaker, he needed to make sure his mental health was strong and in check. Unless the curses consume him. That meant the Goblins made sure he got plenty of vacation days. Even a week off at the end of every month!

“Come on out you big ole dog. I know you are here.” You giggle, as you set your bag on the couch. Now where did your boyfriend go? You would hurry to the porch of the house. Leaning over the railing, and admiring the beautiful view. It was just stunning. The salt air against your skin, the cool water under the stars, oh it was like out of a fairy tale. Made you understand why he loved the beach so much.

“Oh to live here.” You sighed, as you looked to the sky. Admiring the clouds, as they rolled by. As they moved, you furrowed your brow. Was the moon full? You squinted, as you leaned over the railing more. Trying so hard to get a better view. As you did, there would suddenly be a warm presence behind you.

“There’s my Habibi.” You would hear, growled into your ear, as hands would grab at the railing. You were pinned against it, as you saw the clouds shift. The moon was full, and glimmering so vividly. Right against the water, and causing the world to be casted in a nearly blue glow. It’s a full moon, and your boyfriend had you pinned.

“Way to go, dumbass-“ You muttered to yourself. William wasn’t a real werewolf. Given his curse breaking job, he held an almost immunity of sorts. He wasn’t like his uncle Lupin. He didn’t have a proper transformation. He did have little habits, like eating raw meat. Just small things. He did get paranoid though. Always avoiding everyone when the moon was full. Seems like tonight will be a night to test some theories.

“You smell so good-“ He sighed, as he would nuzzle his scared up nose into your neck. His body grinding into yours, as he kept you trapped. You swore his skin seemed paler than normal, from looking at his hands. You did your best to turn your head, and his normally straight hair was in thick waves. As if fur that was dense around him. The way his eyes stared into you. Well, eye.

After his attack from Greyback, he lost a large amount of his face. Leaving his teeth exposed, and missing an eye. One that Uncle Moody replaced with one of his old ones. So the two brown eyes never quite matched. You didn’t find him ugly for having one eye, missing an eye lip, exposed teeth, or even how the scars cut into his hair line. You weren’t there just for his looks. He’s your Bill. Seems tonight you’ll be his trophy.

“You taste so good-“ He added on, as he ran his tongue across your neck. The way his working eye’s pupil was blown out. As if on some kind of drug, and you were the supplier. His body was just burning up so badly, as he held you tightly. That’s when it registered he was naked. You’ve seen such many times before, but now felt so different. Despite being the werewolf, this was still a vulnerable position he was in.

“You in there, Billy?” You asked, but not in fear. He was clearly showing signs you were mated, and he couldn’t infect you from the fact he wasn’t properly turned. You were never in real danger, and you knew this was beyond his control anyhow. You knew this would be something you would deal with. Every time the full moon was close, he always got more primal anyway. You were prepared, and never afraid. Seemed like he could smell your lack of fear, and that had him excited.

“Hm-?” He hardly recognized you were talking at all, as he was just grinding his crotch on your ass. Like the dog in heat that he was. “That answered that-“ You muttered, as you looked around. It was in a private area, sure, but you much rather no risk someone thinking you were being assaulted.

“Come here boy-! Come on-!” You whistled, as you quickly ducked under his arms. Just narrowly slipping out, and leaving him confused on where you went. He was quick to turn around, and watched as you started to take your top off. A means to lure him back into the house. Seemed to work beautifully, as he was quick to hurry back inside. Nearly tackling you down.

“WOAH WOAH-!” Hardly had another thought, before he was tearing your clothes off like paper. Did his nails get longer? You swore you could feel thin lines over your body already. Had a sting, but you knew he wasn’t trying to actually hurt you. It was just caught in the cross fire.

“Oh you are fiesty-“ You admit, as he was just devouring you. His tongue tracing over your chest, and drinking you in. You wondered if he was only acting like this because you were a couple. That because his mate showed up he went feral. You won’t lie, that made you feel really special. That even the wolf in his head was madly in love with you. Had you blushing more then the way his tongue felt so rough on your skin.

“I need you, so badly-“ He was panting already, as he was spreading your legs wide. You covered your mouth, as you looked up to him. You swore he looked like a god. The way the moon was casting around him, like some kind of wisp outline. The way the stars sparkled through his burning hair. Looking like the gods he’s talked about, when he used to live in Egypt. You were falling in love all over again.

“All mine. You are all mine.” He repeated, as his nails dug into your ankles. As if to mark you from head to toe. You were soon feeling the burn in your thighs, as he forced your legs towards you. Maybe taking up yoga with Luna was a smart idea, because wow was this pulling muscles you didn’t even know you had.

“All yours. I’m all yours, big boy.” You nodded, as that made your boyfriend give an eerie sight. With only half his face working, it made all his features so much more strange. How his smile was curled so high, and teeth so sharp. The way his working pupil was staring through you, as drool was dripping out of his exposed teeth. He was starving for you, and it was almost easy to forget there was a human inside of that devilish grin.

“And never forget it, Habibi.” He warned, before you suddenly felt his cock slam inside of you. It burned, and stretched you wide. Your head was spinning, as he was already snapping his hips into yours. Not leaving any room to breathe, as he had to make sure he breed you. If there wasn’t a way to knock you up, he’s gonna try anyway. The wolf in him didn’t care if it was possible or not. He just had to claim.

“Oh William-!” You moaned, as your fingers pulled at the carpet under you. Feeling how your legs were soon resting on his shoulders, as his own hands were tearing at the fur on the ground. Leaving deep lashes, as if the human in him was trying to make sure you weren’t in its war path. Bill was still in there, and you knew he was fighting. Maybe he shouldn’t.

“B-Billy….It’s ok-“ You begin, as you reached a hand up to his face. “I like this….I l-like it a lot.” You smiled, as you swore you saw something flicker in his working eye. Something human again. “Let it happen. Let go. I’ll be ok.” You hushed, as you traced his scars with your thumb. To try and let him finally let go. He’s constantly been holding back. He’s never been allowed to not be ok. He’s the eldest brother. He’s had to much weight on his shoulders. He deserves to let loose.

“Habibi….” His voice trailed, before you forced him to kiss you. To truly let him know you’ll be ok. Time seems to freeze, before he let himself go. He returned the kiss, before his claws were firm on your thighs. Sinking into the flesh, and leaving red lines. You whined, but were quickly cut off by the sharp smack of your hips.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, as he was soon sinking his teeth into your neck. You weren’t dreaming it, his teeth did get sharper. He was truly treating you like a chew toy, and you didn’t mind. Your Billy was always so anxious about hurting you, but now he finally had an excuse to let go. You love his gentle side, but getting frisky is always adored.

“Oh William-“ You moaned his name, as he was fucking you into the floor. You swore he would break through, with how rough he was being. Might break your back, but you didn’t care. You were loving the mixture of pain and pleasure. How he would rub your nerves just right, whenever he bit into you to deep. As if his human half was fighting his wolf half.

“AH-! WILLIAM-!” Your head was thrown back, as you were quick to climax. Your body shaking, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied. How long would it take for him to feel release? You didn’t know. You just knew you were sobbing, as your body was trembling at the next climax already building up.

You didn’t know how many times you came, but it was all becoming a blur. Was just blood, sweat, and tears. And you were loving it. Just nothing but meat to satisfy. The bliss of turning your brain off, and just be nothing but owned by your lover. To be covered in markings, and showing anyone who saw you that you were off the market.

What finally brought you back to reality was the howl. He out right howled. You could feel your insides being pumped so full of his seed. You swore you came again from it. His voice was just echoing, as he had claimed you. Inside, and out. Was such a wonderful warmth. You felt so satisfied with it. Was making you fall asleep so peacefully. All to the nursing licks of your boyfriend.

You swore you hadn’t slept that good in ages. It was a hard sleep. A good long one, that had you feeling refreshed. If not for all the pains and aches in your body. That was what woke you up, compared to the summer sun light. Creeping in through the bedroom curtains. Seemed like someone tried to keep them closed, but it slipped through.

You, slowly, sat up. As you did, you could feel bandages all over you. Along with a sweet smell of flowers on the bedside table. You looked over, and saw that poor Bill was pampering you. Feeling so guilty from last night. Flowers, chocolates, sweets, little things that you enjoyed. Along with a little note.

“Sorry: William”

You chuckled, as you set the note aside. With the covers off, you looked yourself over. Every wound was patched, and you were covered in bruises and hickies. Made you a little giddy, you couldn’t lie. So many people would kill to have a werewolf boyfriend. You felt so smug, and wanted to proudly show them off. But first, William needed to be cared for.

After every full moon, he would suffer extreme muscle fatigue. His bones were literally breaking and re breaking after all. Your muscles don’t feel so good after that. Along with other issues. Chronic pain, exhaustion, and just over all trouble walking. It normally passes after a day or two. Hence why the goblins give him that week break. So he can recover. You even went as far as to pick up books about werewolves, and spoke to Uncle Lupin. You may not feel his pain, but you damn well will try and help.

“Willy-?” You called, as you were safe in a bath robe. There you found him. Barely awake, on the couch. His hair a mangled mess, and his body visibly throbbing. The muscle spasms were kicking in. Kicking in bad. You tsked, as you accioed a comb. Soon you were on the couch with him. Forcing him to sit up, and you would nurse at his hair.

“I-“ But you cut him off. “I already know what you are going to say, Mr. This is a disability. One that I know 100% about when I was going to date you. I knew what I was signing up for. I also could have very well floo my way out, or even attacked you with chains. Since you aren’t a full werewolf. We’ve been over this.” You kissed his cheek, as you would brush through his hair. A means to let him have some mercy.

“I love you. Disability or not. You just need a little extra help, now and again. That’s ok.” You reassured, as you began to braid his hair. That way it didn’t get tangled for a while. “Besides, I had fun.” You tease, as you laid on the couch. Forcing his head on your chest, as his legs would kick from the muscle spasms.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked, as he looked up. That big, beautiful, brown eye. So full of love. “By being you~” You reassured him, as you would rub over his shoulder. He was soon cuddling into you, as you both shared a lazy morning.

Least now you both knew what to do together next full moon. Have a few potions, a med kit, with a bottle of wine. That’s a date night for you two. Unconventional? Yes. Just right for you two? Damn right. He’s a Weasley. You really expected things to be normal? Normals boring anyway.

[missmarveledsblog]

Grumpy cat ( Logan howlett x wade wilson x reader)

summary : adjusting to a new life and trying to recover from the old one logan is withdrawn but the help of google and a special something wade is determined to make it all better .

warnings : swearing , goofy humour really , not proofread ( soz)

@silverflowers14 thank you for the request it had me fucking dying🤣🤣

Starting over was hard  even more so when its’ a completely different timezone , universe and life. Faces lost in his own could he call it world? suddenly  back alive and walking around it was almost mocking him of his own fuck ups , that pain he felt when he saw what remained and now it was like nothing because to them it never happened . then isolation , hatred and venom that followed not so much in this place, mutant and enhanced weren't as disgusting as they were in his timeline . people cheering on the name of a hero he just wasn’t , no matter what he did he was dammed a bad evil man in his mind. It wasn’t always bad  he did have friend now , if he could call them as such . that was new and he kinda liked them even wade wasn’t too bad not that he would admit such a thing out loud  ( “ i knew he liked me “) . 

Yet it was the first time he was spending that dreaded day in this new place, that sick feeling creeping up in his stomach as he watched day by day and that date getting faster and faster  .  the little interactions he was having becoming less and less , shoulders slumping second by second . a deep frown on etched on his face . grunt and huff in response to anyone dared even come close , shutting  down any form of communication before it start . he didn’t deserve their kindness or there love . 

Wade saw it , he observed and took note of the grumpy black cat he had in his home , well that wouldn’t do no sad bitch vibes here . so like the best friend and roommate ( *cough* lover *cough * he was  decided to make thing better but how? 

“ oh google you beautiful bitch and sexy problem solver “ he skipped knowing he would find the stuff to make it happen before the hot-tempered sex symbol that was his new room mate came back from a liquor induced pick me up  . a text to his neighbor y/n left unanswered so he took measure into his own hand got his hands on the good stuff and the ingredients to make betty crocker herself cream her pantaloons . it was masterpiece of sprinkles and icing   ready to be devoured cheer up the grumpiest of cats . he heard the door open and slam almost taking it off the hinges . 

“ woah peanut less of the slamming unless it’s in the bedroom “ he sang skipping to the door . 

“ wade why the fuck are you dressed like a house wife from the fifties ?” 

“ i wanted you to feel more at home and american civil war section was surprising all out ,” he winked twirling to show the skirt of his dress. “ anyways you look more pissed then blind al pmsing and out of cocaine ,we don’t do that sunshine so while you out drinking your old ass off i was here slaving away making something so tasty martha stewart would fall to her knee for ,take a seat kitten and prepare to have you sock fully fucking blown off “ . 

“ i don’t ..” 

“ nope nope none of that you will sit and taste my goodness and you will like it “ he pushed the man toward the table as logan stared down at the “ masterpiece” wondering if it wasn’t too late to head back to his own time  because shit was probably better then whatever the fuck was on the plate before him  . he would give it one thing it smelled ok something he couldn’t place on his finger on but the rest was good . a deep sigh on his face as he sat down watching wade struggling to cut through it . 

“ it’s bit hard is all but all good things are hard right” he strained cutting through finally getting through before smashing the plate underneath. 

“ here come the aeroplane “ he sang. 

“ come near me with that and i’ll cut your fucking hand off” logan growled . 

“ try a little bit “ he whine like perpetuate toddler  ( * gasp* hey you take that back ). 

“ fine lucky i can't fucking die maybe i can “ he grumble throwing a piece into his mouth as the merc with a mouth watched excitedly . 

“ is it good? What note are you getting” he asked jumping around . 

“ this taste how you look” was all logan said before storming off. 

“ might take a while to kick in “ he shrugged .

Trying to wallow when wade wilson was around was impossible task , one thing was he kept getting logan his drinks and food ,take out all smelling of something he just couldn’t place maybe it was some new craze but fuck it once it got him drunk and food in his belly ,   he didn’t care once he was drunk and fed , what he did care about was wade following him around asking him how he felt , it wasn’t totally out of the norm giving the fucker told them all how he felt no matter what he was feeling  but this was more persistent even for him .  He was almost delighted when a knock at the door hopefully someone he could push the  assholes attention to something new . prayers finally answered when he saw y/n standing  there like the savoir he need . 

“ hey logan wade here?” smiling up at the man . 

“ over there go have fun  i’m begging you “ he pushed her over as she could barely get words of protest out of her mouth . 

“ i can’t stay i promised a girls night sorry i didn’t text back touch on my phone is gone but i got the good stuff right here my friend michelle swears by it” she handed over the baggy .

 “ hope it’s better than shit i got , sprinkled it on everything even in his food and still a grumpy bitch” he exclaimed . 

“ so where is he?” she asked excitedly looking around the room . 

“ right there shit are you going blind too,  i knew it was contagious suck it al “ he yelled pointing the the scowling canadian . 

“ please tell me you haven’t been putting this in logans food “ she winced backing up to the front door. 

“ putting what in logans food “ 

“ google said it good for grumpy , depressed or anxiety riddled kitty cats ” wade shrugged. 

“ what is it ? have you been dosing me with drugs?” the man growled claws retracting .

“ see nothing … no sugar plum i would never drug you … wait is catnip a drug ?” he asked as she ran out not wanting to stay when the claws came out too many clothes she still couldn’t get the bloodstains out of  . 

“ STOP THROWING FUCKING CATNIP AT ME AND COME BACK HERE YOU BASTARD “ 

“ I DO IT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU POOKIEBEAR… AHH PINEAPPLE …. FUCK WHAT WAS THE SAFE WORD ” 

“ why is this normal to me “ y/n sighed heading down to her apartment smashing glass and wade shrieks following now muffled as she closed the door.

[fatuismooches]

ITS ALMOST VALENTINES DAAY yippe!!!!

I know Dottore + the segments dont really care for holidays but I like to think Valentines day is one of those exceptions because they KNOW they are going to get spoiled. They all glance at reader (who is oblivious) discreetly as the day approaches.

And when the day arrives they're barely able to focus on their tasks because they can already smell the chocolates from the kitchen. Reader had to lock the door to the kitchen for OBVIOUS reasons.

sidenote: I just had the adorable idea that foxttore will claw/paw at the door like a dog😭 and the pufflings will try to squeeze under the door. Reader probably has to put a rag under the door to stop them.

When reader finally finishes baking and presents it to all the Dottys they are so joyous.... the older ones might be more quiet about their happiness but the younger ones are DEVOURING those sweets.

I like to think Reader also baked some trears for Foxttore and the pufflings... :D

(Sidenote:Reader baked a special batch for Zandy because he's spoiled)

ALSO im glad u like my ramblings 😭 I get very joyous when I see a new dottore post...

- 🐓

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH... Ah you've sealed your fate the moment you decided to spoil them on the first Valentine's Day spent together! You simply can't set the standards so high and then not go through with it, nope, unless you want a bunch of mopey and grumpy segments on this day of love. (You weren't planning on such a thing anyway thankfully. But somehow you don't notice how touchy they are before the day. Specifically the younger ones. The older ones are beyond that. But I guess they think they could possibly butter you up to give them a few more chocolates... Unfortunately, you're still oblivious and just return their kisses tenfold.)

Not only do you lock the door, but you have to threaten to never make them chocolates again if they dare break this rule... well obviously you'd never actually do that but apparently they're not willing to risk that possibility... very, very strange segments. If only they could behave themselves, they could hug you from behind as you baked... Though of course, Zandy is allowed in because he's a good little boy! Sometimes he helps you or he's just there to keep you company! (You have to keep Zandy's special batch in your room and have him sneak over so you two can eat it together in secret... otherwise, the segments would find out and that would not be fun...)

YESSS FOXTTORE AND THE PUFFBALLS TRYING TO BREAK IN... no poor Foxttore would just give up and sit outside the door all huffy and sad... its favorite human has betrayed it!! but the pufflings, they would have infiltrated the kitchen already, they were there hidden inside the cabinets and under the stove the night before. The ones that weren't there yet just squeezed themself through some other crevice... eventually, you just get them all in and Foxttore is very very happy :3 Its fur coat unfortunately may get a bit messy with the chocolate... you will have to give it a bath later. (I can just imagine, you will turn your back for a few seconds, and then you turn back around to see Foxttore guilty with his paw in the bowl of chocolate...)

Reader would definitely customize the boxes of chocolates for the segments... they would make sure to note down the kind of chocolate they prefer, what kind of fillings they like, etc... and the older segments who have a taste for more bitter chocolates too... :D Not to mention the little notecard with to: and from: [name]...

And let's not forget about our dearest Dottie... he would want to taste more chocolates even after they're done, and to do so, he would simply kiss you repeatedly, savoring the lingering taste of the delicious sweetness on your lips. Yes, he's never cared for Valentine's Day, but when it's like this, he supposes it's not all that bad.

[nethhiri]

Siren Charms: Chapter 7

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, blood

Pantyless

Luffy requested that you let Chopper tend your wound before you did anything else. You waited impatiently on the little cot you had woken up in. There were hushed voice outside the door. Yet your ultra-sharp senses could still hear.

A high pitched voice that sounded scared started, "C-can you come in with me? I saw her teeth when I examined her and they're s-so sharp. What if she decides to e-eat me?" 

"Luffy said she won't." Your ears perked up at the second voice, which you recognized as your green snack.

"Please, Zoro."

"If Luffy says she won't, she won't." He sighed. "But I'll be right outside the door, okay?"

There was a sharp knock before Chopper entered the room. Curiously, the doctor was a little deer. You consciously made your teeth and eyes as close to human as possible. People were very unnerved when they saw your yellow irises and slitted pupils. And they were very uneasy if they caught sight of your elongated canines. Your eyebrow quirked up. This was the one that smelled like an animal but also somewhat human, and of devil fruit. His hooves made soft clopping noises as he walked over to stand in front of you.

"Hi, I'm Ch-chopper and I've been taking care of you."

"Hi, Chopper. You're a deer? But you smell human, too?" Your head tilted with curiosity. 

He visibly brightened. "No one ever calls me a deer on the first try." He blushed, "I always get mistaken for a raccoon."

"That's stupid. You're clearly a deer."

He looked closely at your wound before running off to get a salve from the counter. "I smell human because I ate the Human-Human fruit." He handed it to you. "Just keep putting this on it and you'll be fine." 

That explained both smells. "Thank you." You did your best to smile at him without showing too much of your teeth. "I'm not gonna eat you."

Chopper rubbed his antlers. "Oh? You heard that? I'm sorry."

You nodded. "Devil fruit users don't taste good. And animals don't do enough for me." 

Somehow that was not fully reassuring. To him, maybe, but in general, not really. "You're all done here."

You dipped your head and left. As soon as you stepped over the threshold, his smell hit you, the green one, Zoro. You froze. He was leaning near the doorway, seemingly asleep, though his heart rate told you he was still awake. The instincts within you were screaming at you to pounce on him and rip his throat out. Bloodlust creeped in. It was apparent that you needed to feed soon or it would completely overtake you. Every fiber in your body wanted you to pin Zoro down and sink your teeth deep in his flesh. No! You shook your head. It was forbidden. The namegiver assigned you 2 rules: Do not feed from the crew (unless they agree) and do not use The Voice on them. You would not disobey him. 

In your culture, it was your mentor who gave you a name. As soon as you were old enough to form attachments, you were handed over from your parent to a different siren, and they would become your mentor, to teach you how to hunt and survive. They gave you a new name, reflective of your skills or personality, to replace the temporary one given by your parent and when you were deemed ready, they released you to the world. This name giving served to sever any bonds between you and your parent. As for bonds with your mentor, they always treated you coldly enough that they never developed in the first place. You obeyed them without question or you would face harsh consequences. Sirens, though lonesome, were protected this way. They were spread so far and wide, save for the times they gathered to swap offspring, that no single event could wipe them out. 

It wasn't quite the same, but by naming you, Luffy inadvertently sealed your loyalty to him. It didn't sever your bond with your siren identity, yet you felt like this was your pod now. Namegivers were to be respected and obeyed, which is the only reason you could restrain yourself in this moment. You had been conditioned this way. So as much as you wanted to devour the man two feet away from you, you would have to convince him instead to offer himself up to you to get a taste. You pulled yourself from the trance, looking for somewhere to sit alone until you could dispel the hunger. 

Zoro sensed the bloodlust rolling off you. He didn't miss the way your hands balled into fists and how you had to swallow more frequently because of how much you were salivating. He didn't know what you were or what kind of devil fruit you had, but he knew you were dangerous. The trust of the crew, him especially, was not bought cheaply. He watched you shake your head and walk away, seemingly overcoming your animalistic urges. 

You sat near the bow on top of a crate, letting the salty sea air clear your senses. Being upwind, you didn't smell his approach, though you could tell someone was behind you. You turned, letting out a breath. It was the skeleton. No flesh to entice you. 

"Excuse me, Miss. I don't believe we've met. I'm Brook." He held out his hand for you to shake. You shook it, at least you knew some human customs. 

"I'm of the ether. I mean Ether." 

"Nice to meet you Ether of the ether." He paused, getting serious. "Now I have an extremely important question for you. This could make or break our friendship. May I please see your panties?" 

"Oh." You frowned, looking a little sad. Does this mean he wasn't going to be your friend? You didn't wear panties. They would be destroyed every time you formed a tail. "I'm sorry." Brook looked forlorn. "I don't wear any." You lifted the fabric of your skirt enough to see there was a lack of fabric underneath, but your knees were together so there wasn't much else to see.

The skeleton's face lit up. "Oh my. We're going to be best friends, indeed!" 

At about the same time, you could smell blood suddenly. You looked to see a pair of legs in black pants splayed on the ground behind a nearby barrel. You rushed over to investigate, and, more importantly, maybe get a little sample. It was the blond one, passed out with a nosebleed. If the blood is outside the body already it doesn't count as feeding. With your thumb, you wiped the blood from his face and licked it from your hand. If you were allowed to use your voice, you could make him wake up. You leaned over him and slapped his face. "Hey." He opened his eyes, but almost immediately gushed blood again and passed out. Your barely hidden breasts happened to be dangling quite close to him. You swiped that blood away, too, and licked it. You looked around for help, "Your friend is leaking! Someone!" 

The dark haired woman approached, "I can see why." Robin saw how close you were to him and offered you a hand. "Come with me. He'll be fine." 

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's got a brain-eating amoeba and every time it eats, blood leaks from his nose!" The long-nosed one piped up as he came to investigate. 

"Poor thing." You mused. So that was why he was so easy to manipulate. Robin laughed at your comment but didn't elaborate. 

"Brain-eating amoeba called lust maybe," Name muttered under her breath. 

[yukiumisakura25]

A Coffee's Scent

AN: HAPPY BIRTHDAY GEEZIE! I saw your post about your birthday, and I just HAD to write out this Coffee Shop Fic! I could never NOT love Remi and Alistar! And Kanai is so cute with his little halo and hoodies omgfowen! I apologize in advance, I improvised abit on the likes and dislikes, and they might not respond to some conversations like they should, but I gave it my best! I hope you like it and HAPPY B-DAY!

Fandom: @aller-geez and @thekinkyleopard OC’s, none are mine.

CW: It’s messy, description of snot, sneezing, alittle bit of cock, and cussing.

Synopsis: Levi’s working at a coffee shop and Remi drops by to say hello. Too bad Alistar and Kanai do too, and Remi finds Alistar’s drink smells too strong.

“Welcome to Café La Luna, oh! Remi!” Levi beamed as he recognized it was his mate that had entered through the glass door.

“Hey Levi, told you I’d stop by. “He walked up to the counter, a small smirk on his face. It’s been three days since Levi started his part time job as a barista at the corner café shop near their place. After finally learning enough recipes and only breaking two mugs and three plates, the manager told Levi he would be working the morning shift by himself. Remi, being the encouraging and supportive boyfriend he is, decided to come visit his other half and prevent a nervous breakdown.

“I see the shop is still in one piece, that’s a good start.” Remi chuckled lightly. Levi gave a playful pout.

“Hardy Har Har. Are you going to order something, or just tease me the whole time.” He asked rhetorically. Before he could give his smart ass response, Remi was cut off by the door opening again. Levi looked past Remi and smiled again.

“Alistar! Kanai, hey!” Alistar and Kanai walked in, Alistar rocking a skin-tight long sleeve shirt with the words ‘Mommy’s Main Piece’ across his chest, and black skinny jeans. Kanai, in his dark purple hoodie, with the words in neon ‘Too Cute to Tame, Too Crazy to Care’ and light grey pants.

“Oh, what the fuck.” Remi growled under his breath, refusing to turn around. Alistar ‘s eyes lit up as he saw his favorite violent fiend.

“Is that Remi I see? I thought you didn’t leave the house until McDonalds stopped serving breakfast.” Alistar teased, moving closer to the ticking bomb. Remi tightened his fist, and snapped his head to Alister, glaring.

“What the fuck makes you think- no. Don’t answer that.” Remi whipped his head back at Levi, eyes asking for an explanation.

“Oh, I told Alistar about getting a part time job here.”

“And I just HAD to come and support my FRIEND.” Alistar spoke with a smug grin, knowing that he was pushing Remi’s buttons.

“I have also come to try your coffee and experience the ‘vibe’ of the coffee shop. Drae says it is a peaceful place to drink coffee and do work.” Kanai said raising a hand up slightly, reminding them he was still here.

“Speaking of, where is he? I’d figured he would’ve come too.” Levi asked curiously.

“He’s sleeping in, something about not waking him up before eight unless I want poison in my food.” Alistar spoke, amused. Kanai nodded agreeing to the statement.

“Drae is cranky when he wakes up early.” He deadpanned. Alistar scoffed.

“Cranky is an understatement. Anyway, coffee?”

“Of course! Yeah, I can do this. Right. Do you know what you want?” Levi asked, looking at the keypad, in preparation.

“What’s the strongest drink you have?” Alistar moved next to Remi, slightly pushing him out of the way to stand in front of Levi. Remi growled again, glaring hard with intent in his eyes.

“Hey, I was here first!” He spoke with a snarl. Levi looked at the keypad with focus, using his concentration on the menu in front of him.

“Um…a Blonde Roast Brewed Coffee. But the smell and taste are really strong, so I’d suggest some cream and sugar.” Levi said after reading the nutrition facts of the menu.

“Ill take one of those then, no sugar or cream with triple expresso.” Alistar said waving his hand.

“The fuck you will, I’m first!” Remi pushed Alistar out of the way and turned to Levi, taking a breath.

“I’ll just have a caramel latte.”

“Pussy.” Alistar fake coughed.

“Fuck you.” Remi growled, causing Levi to sigh.

“Both of you stop. Now, I’ll make yours first Remi. Kanai, do you know what you want?” Kanai looked in thought.

“I will also have a caramel latte, double caramel and 5 sugars and cream.”

“Okay great, two heart attacks coming up.” Levi took the payment from Remi first, then Alistar for the two drinks.

While they waited for their coffees, Remi did his best to ignore Alistar’s comments, as Kanai looked around the shop.

“Here Remi, I put in extra whip cream for you, free of charge.” Levi winked slyly, knowing he’s going to pay for that later at home. Remi smirked and touched Levi’s hand intentionally when he grabbed his drink.

“Thanks kitten.” His eyes promising another use of whip cream in the near future. Levi turned away, reminding himself he was at work.

“And my coffee?” Alistar asked leaning over the counter, looking bored out of his mind. And a bored Alistar is a dangerous Alistar.

“On it.” Levi quickly went to work on his order, as Alistar was rewarded with a glare from Remi. Levi prepared the beans and put them in the machine, the scent began messing with Remi’s nose. He discreetly sniffed and turned away from the two, sipping his drink as he watched Levi make Alistar’s cup. His nose crinkled as the smell was becoming stronger as the liquid filled the small mug. He used the sleeve of his hoodie to rub at his nose to fight off the irritation.

“You alright there sniffles?” Alistar’s voice cut into Remi’s thoughts, and he glared at the source. Alistar smirked, as if knowing what was irritating the green-eyed man.

“Here you go Alistar. Oh! And yours as well Kanai.” Levi gave them their mugs and the scent became stronger, setting off an itch in Remi’s nose.

“Heh. “Remi squashed his nose with his sleeve, giving Alistar a quick glare before looking away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Little did he know that Alistar caught on quick and would do anything to get what he wants.

And right now, that was to see Remi make a mess of himself.

“Oh, Levi, could you be a dear and please grab me abit of creamer please?” He asked slyly, keeping the steaming mug of black coffee between himself and Remi. Remi glared, his grip on his own mug tightening.

“Of course, here.” Levi grabbed some small creamers.

“Oh, and a few packs of sugar to, please.” He played it smoothly, his eyes never leaving Remi’s face.

“How about you take that slug and get heh- get the fuck heehh- the fuck away- hd’ISChh!” Remi kept his nose in his sleeve, feeling the spot becoming wet.

“And miss this show? Never.” Alistar gleamed.

“Donnie?” Kanai looked at him confused, noticing the creamers by his cup. Alistar never puts anything in his coffee. ‘I like my coffee black, like my soul.’ He recalls him saying.

“Not now Nai, the entertainment has just begun.” Alistar smirks. Remi tried to glare at him through teary eyes.

“F-fuck hhh’ISH’ih! He’IISHH! hehh-hEh’TXSSHEW!” Remi felt the snot coat his sleeve on that last sneeze, the congestion beginning to build up behind his sinuses as he tried to regain dignity and sniff back what he could. Kanai then made an ‘oooh’ face, understanding what his best friend was doing. He nodded and went back to his coffee, taking a seat nearby as the two others stayed by the counter.

“Need a napkin?” Alistar offered, moving much closer to him, a look of mischievous graced his face as he held out a single napkin. Remi snuffled a growl and snatched the napkin from him, burying his nose into it as he turned away.

“D-dambnit Hh’IISHH! Hd’ISCHhh! Huh’GDTS’ue! Heeeh- Hd’ISCHEW!” Remi moved further away from the two as he tried to contain the mess.

“I finally found the sugar packets! Sorry about the wait Al!” Levi ran over to them, holding a small box of newly opened sugar packets.

“That’s quite alright, I was just enjoying the scenery.” He spoke while pointing at Remi, who blew through that napkin, and now into his own hands. Levi frowned and grabbed some more napkins, running out from behind the counter towards Remi.

“Rems, are you okay?” He asked worried, holding the napkins out towards his poor boyfriend’s face. Remi groaned before another “Heh’ISCHhh” blew into what was left of the napkin.

“Kidden.” He snuffed, and Levi took that as his que that Remi was done. He slowly pulled Remi’s hands from his face, seeing the strings of snot connecting from his poor and abused red nose, his glistening wet lips, and the spray that hit the disintegrated napkin what was left in his hands.

“Oh, my poor baby. What set you off?” Levi cooed, taking the napkins and cleaning off Remi’s hands before working on his face gently. He had Remi’s back towards Al and Kanai, so they wouldn’t see him like this.

“The coffee smbell.” Remi looked annoyed. He took another napkin and blew his nose, clearing it of any left-over scent of that vile brew Alistar ordered.

“Really? Well, I guess the scent was pretty strong. Sorry about that.” Levi frowned. Holding a napkin to his nose Remi wrapped his arm around Levi.

“Don’t be, It pbut mbe in the mbood.” He pulled Levi in so he could feel how hard his cock was. Levi’s eyes reddened and he looked round, catching Alistar and Kanai’s eyes. He turned to Kanai with a pleading look. Kanai, taking the hint took Alistar’s shirt sleeve.

“Donnie, if we go right now, I’ll let you tie me to the bed and do whatever you want for 20 minutes. “Kanai haggled. Alistar turned his attention to him with a wide grin.

“Anything?” Kanai nodded and Alistar picked Kanai up over his shoulder and kicked the glass door open, shattering it.

“Well let’s go! Have fun you two!” He called out as he left with a dramatic run.

Well, Levi was probably going to get fired anyway. He grabbed Remi’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss.

“Bathroom. Ndow.” Remi breathed out.

“Yes sir.”

~Plz Don’t Repost To Non-Snzfic Blogs~

[despairforme]

Nnoitra would hear the buzz of the door to his apartment to signal he had a visitor. Which was, of course, Adelha and Wesson. The puppy giving a happy ruff before he zooms into the apartment to do his customary 'smell inspection' of the room. While Adelha sighed to then smile up at Nnoitra with genuine happiness. A box in her hands for her to chuckle. "Hello, Nnoitra. I have something I made for you to munch on. I hope you don't mind that I walked over without texting you first."

Adelha would hand the box to Nnoitra to open for the scent of rum to be a faint indicator of what the box contains. Inside being a special dessert. Chocolate rum balls filling the box for there to also be a little figurine hidden in the corner. That of a silly little gnome with a big pointy hat holding up a giant sunflower. One that would fit perfectly with the house plants Adelha gifted Nnoitra.

The lady looks rather hesitant for a moment before she takes a look around the room. "I'm glad to see that hailstorm the other night didn't ruin your windows. The wind was so loud that Wesson refused to leave the bathtub unless I held him the entire night. Did the hailstorm damage anything at your work?"

// yes Adelha got Nnoitra a birthday treat but nope she is not gonna say anything until he does lol //

NNOITRA'S BIRTHDAY ( 11 / 11 ) .

It was his birthday. Again. How the fuck had a year passed that quickly? It wasn't like he'd set himself any big goals or whatever, but still - it really DID feel like he'd wasted a whole year. A stupid feeling. "Wasted" it? Like it was something to waste in the first place. He was feeling about as gloomy as usual, but he had decided that he wasn't going to spend his birthday trapped in his apartment. He'd go out. He had showered, and even put his hair up. He was scrolling his phone, seeing if there were was anything cool happening around town. A new bar opening or a new restaurant or something like that.

Then his doorbell rang. He arched a brow. He wasn't expecting anyone. He walked over to unlock the door downstairs, and quickly found out that it was Adelha and Wesson. Perhaps not unsurprisingly. Leave it to Adelha to remember his birthday. He felt uplifted by that.

Wesson happily barged in to do his usual tour around the room. If he was looking for left-overs, he'd be disappointed. Nnoitra had carried out all the take-away boxes yesterday.

❝ All good, all good. Can't complain when ya bring me somethin'. ~ ❞ He grinned, eagerly taking the box. Damn, he'd actually get a gift today? SWEET! He didn't hesitate to open it, eager to see what was inside. A sweet scent mixed with the slightest hint of alcohol met him. ❝ These look tasty as hell. ❞ And - he ( of course ) had to try them right away. He popped one in his mouth, and it really was FUCKING DELICIOUS! Why did it taste so damn luxurious? He felt like he was eating some expensive stuff here. He'd hardly even noticed that there was a small figurine in the box. He poked it with a finger to see if it was soft ( and thus edible ) - it wasn't. The box was placed down on the counter. Nnoitra ate treat, chewing happily.

❝ Nah, nothin' got ruined, but I had 'ta make a run 'fer it when I was out. ❞ Of course he'd been on his way to work when the storm had hit. Just his fucking luck.

[skeleton-mischief]

Carmine Serrif

How does it feel to serve under the Queen? To lie, to kill, to O B E Y? SF!Red Sans will not answer, and instead chooses silence.

- Official height is 5'7 because he wears heels

- He/Him

- He is competitive in a passive way

- Likes to drink Tea since he would enjoy a cup with the Queen often

- He is picky about touch, and actively avoids giving it. He's slightly uncomfortable if someone initiates it, and depending on who it is, he'll go out of his way to make sure they don't touch him

- He was competitive with Razz before, and even found him to be annoying before they became friends

- He's close friends with Powder

- He had a horrible relationship with Gaster, and can only dream of him where he can recall good memories before it turns into something....bad

- He was super distant from Rus and yet overprotective in the underground. He didn't want others to truly see how much he cared in fear of others using it against him and his brother

- Won't admit it, but he wants praise and validation

- Will try to be rational before using violence, but will proceed to not hesitate if his opponent pushes him enough

- He feels the need to constantly be independent and he doesn't trust himself or others enough

- Intelligent, cynical, confident, intuitive, well spoken, loyal, clever, dedicated, perfectionist, reserved, serious, over-thinker, stubborn, blunt, and a workaholic

- Does not curse often, but he will when he deems it appropriate

- He is much slower to trust others, even if he secretly craves companionship

- Considers himself selfish while close with others, but he is only softer and more patient with loved ones

- Despite his big talk, it takes awhile for him to actually strike someone physically, since he prefers to de-escalate the situation or use intimidation tactics

- Despite the strange nickname Mutt for his brother, he does not actually mean it in a demeaning manner and only uses it sparingly

- A wonderful strategist, he's wonderful at collecting data on others and he uses this to his advantage. He is not below blackmailing someone

- He is heavily scarred but he is not ashamed of it

- A gentleman, he would never go beyond your comfort level as long as you respect his

- He is adamant with giving advice, but he gives space for you to decide. However, he doesn't listen to his own advice and doesn't know how to help someone with their relationships

- He will berate you, but not to demean you or cause you shame. He does it from a place of care

- He is a smooth talker, so he's great at flustering or disarming others if he needs to. However, despite his constant appearance of seeming to be put together, he's constantly tense and anxious

- Emotions are not his forte, so jealousy is something he deals with. He stews in it until confronted, and even then he struggles to face it

- When he apologizes, it is extremely sincere unless he is faced among other higher ups. He rarely will apologize, and only will do it if he deems someone worthy of it. Otherwise, he can suck up his emotions in the face of authority and pretend to actually apologize

- He appears ruthless to his guardsman, the lieutenant of the Royal Guard

- He hates beating around the bush, he's direct and can appear very blunt

- He does not care for PDA in any sense, since that puts him and his partner in a vulnerable position while somewhere dangerous

- Magic smells of frost and mint, his magic tastes like red raspberries

- Doesn't do it often, but he will cook his brothers favorite meals out of feeling bad or when he sees his brother isn't doing well

- Gets really frustrated if he cries, and is quite loud while trying to hide it

- He hates his dynamic with the Queen. He is loyal to no one but her Queen, and fights for her. He knows she has an interest in him, but in truth he does not care and is only acting. He only cares for his brother, and knows she will excuse his brothers actions as long as he works for her

- He makes chalupas and is a wonderful cook, but he doesn't do it often after being placed with the other skeletons

- Goes clothes shopping with Wine, they're quite close because of this

- He has yellowed bone and red magic due to his LV, stress levels, etc

- A romantic

- He gives handshakes or of formality, but otherwise he won't touch someone else

- He would call his lover love or his lovely

- He's tactful about his decisions, avoiding getting attention at all points because he feels that a lack of attention is safer

- Despite acting like he doesn't care, he actually deeply feels awful that he cannot show his love for those he cares about

- He would rather tear his tongue out than admit that he actually craves companionship

- He sacrificed a lot to get into the Royal Guard in order to keep him and Rus safe, he doesn't realize how badly Rus got affected though with his role in the Royal Guard since he doesn't see him as much as he wants to

- He got his scar over his eye from the Queen, but he pretends to not despise her for it even if he dislikes her

- He confuses acts of service as a way of earning love from someone, and in turn he gets confused when earning gifts. He doesn't ever understand when someone does something for him, let alone gifts. So, if someone shows their love to him, he is left to wonder if they want something in return. Only later on does it become a healthy habit for him to see affection for what it actually is

- He doesn't like to think about what would ever happen if his brother actually hates him, since that's quite literally his only family and the only person he'd kill or die for

- The amount of dust on his hands is hard to count, he doesn't like talking about it though

Closing Notes: He's a character I definitely have rewritten a lot since his origins are written by a proshipper, and that influences stuff a lot. I honestly have fun writing him though, especially with his dynamics with the other Sanses and his brother. Rus is next, so eat up🫡

[fishandships]

Campbell + soup

Universe: Identity V (Time of Reunion/Ashes of Memory) Summary: After getting off to a rocky start, The Prospector learns that he may share some common ground with The Naturalist after all. Word count: 1396 As per usual I end up posting things out of order bc I wrote The Good Parts and am now struggling with the Boring Plot-Base-Building Parts. So I decided to post the Good Part(s) rather than letting them collect dust in my drafts.

—

     The aroma that drifted through the hallways of the Manor was so heavenly that Norton might have thought he was dreaming if he’d managed to get any sleep so far that night. If there was any lingering doubt, the growling of his stomach quickly proved otherwise, and so Norton heaved himself out of bed to wander to the kitchen in hopes of finding the source of the tantalizing smell. 

     To his surprise, he found The Naturalist there, standing over a small pot on the stove. On the counter beside them was an array of herbs and spices as well as a cutting board and knife with the remnants of various vegetables. They turned sharply when they heard him enter. Upon seeing him, the unusually tranquil expression vanished from their features to be replaced with their more typical wariness. “‘Evening,” they said, their tone lukewarm.

     “Didn’t expect to find you here.” He moved closer to try to get a look into the pot. “I didn’t think rich people could cook.”

     A slight coldness crept into their voice as they replied, “…You make a lot of assumptions.”

     “Based on experience,” he retorted, leaning against the counter. 

     His stomach growling loudly destroyed any efforts he had made to appear casual and disinterested. The Naturalist seemed to thaw out slightly. “Well, your timing is good, anyway. It’s almost done. Would you like some?”

     This took him completely by surprise. Why would someone who clearly thought so little of him offer him a meal, especially one they had clearly made for themself? “What’s the catch?” he asked. 

     They looked offended. “Why would there be a catch? I made enough that there’s two servings if I scrape the pot. If you’re here because you’re hungry, you can have some. Unless the reason you were wandering the Manor at two in the morning was to find me and insult me some more.”

     “I might insult you some more after the snack,” he replied. “If the soup is as cold as you are.”

     The Naturalist ignored this. They began peering into various cupboards and eventually produced two bowls. They handed one to him, saying simply, “Help yourself.”

     Again they surprised him by standing aside and letting him take the first serving. It was a rich tomato and cheese soup, the red broken here and there with speckles of green herbs. It burned Norton’s tongue slightly when he drank it, but it tasted so good he ended up draining the bowl in one go despite the sting. He was licking his lips before The Naturalist had finished serving themself. “Well?” they prompted. “Are you going to insult me, or was it to your liking?”

     The soup was filling enough to sate his hunger, and its warmth spread through his body from head to toe. He wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist as he set the bowl aside. “It was good. Really good,” he admitted. 

    The Naturalist hesitated, then asked, “Would you like some more?”

     Norton realized they were offering him their own bowl. Instead of accepting, he retrieved a loaf from the bread box and broke it in half, giving half to them. “Yeah, but I’ll take the pot.”

     He used the bread to wipe up any remaining traces of soup from the bottom of both the pot and his bowl. “You were really hungry,” The Naturalist observed.

     “It’s good soup,” he replied. 

     They looked pleased, and a little softer. The latter, Norton reasoned, was probably due to the dim light from the warm orange glow of the stove. He leaned against the counter and observed them for a moment. They looked up from their food when they realized he was watching them. “What?”

     “I’m trying to figure you out,” he replied. “Frigid one minute, giving out soup the next.”

     The detached air they seemed so good at cultivating returned. “I like sharing the food I make.”

     He narrowed his eyes. “Is that your idea of charity?”

     “No,” they said adamantly. “It’s not like that. I just—…it’s the best way I know to connect with people.”

     “So this is an olive branch?” A bemused smile toyed around his lips.

     “Of sorts.” They sipped at their own bowl. “Just because we’re both competitors doesn’t mean we have to be enemies. To be honest, I hate conflict. And for all we know, it could be a team-based challenge.”

     “I don’t consider you an enemy,” he said after some thought. “At least, not personally.”

     “But you do hate me,” they pointed out.

     He shrugged. “I hate all rich people on principle.”

     The Naturalist sighed and lowered their eyes to their food. “We’re really not as different as you think.”

     Norton set his empty bowl aside with a loud clatter. “Enlighten me, Educated One.”

     “I don’t owe you my life story,” they retorted sharply, but then they seemed to catch themself. “Look, I wouldn’t ever pretend that the hardships I’ve faced are anything compared to yours. But I had to fight to get where I am in life. I know what it’s like to be cold and hungry. To feel hopeless. Why do you think I came here? I didn’t have any other options. I was desperate to find a way to survive. Same as you.”

     Again he found himself surprised by them. “But the way you talk, and your accent, your fancy clothes…What, did you marry up?”

     “No.” This was an outright snarl - it was clear that his question was deeply offensive to them. “I worked to get my education. I scraped and saved to get nicer clothes and I pay attention to how I speak so people don’t look at me and write me off as just some country bumpkin. It’s all an act. If I lose this Game, I go back to nothing and no one. This is my last chance.”

     Norton stared at them, digesting this. It wasn’t just the oven-glow that was causing him to see them in a new light. As they spoke, they could see the same spark of determination and fierce pride in their eyes that he carried in his own chest. It erased any doubt he might have had as to the truth in their claims. After a long pause he said, “Well. If that happens, you could always take up prospecting.”

     They stared at him, indignant confusion written plainly on their features. Their expression reminded him so much of a bewildered cat that he couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “You know, cause it’s worked out so well for me.”

     Grabbing an oven mitt, they whacked his shoulder with it. “Don’t laugh at me,,” they said, but they were smiling. “I’m just tryin’ to relate to you. Like I said, I wouldn’t last a day in your shoes. I just hate people makin’ assumptions about me that aren’t true. Especially people who aughta be comrades.”

     The conscious drop of their affected accent was not lost on him. When they made to whack him a second time, he grabbed their wrist firmly to stop them. “Comrades don’t assault each other.”

      Their face paled as they froze, all mirth gone from their countenance. “…promise?” they asked, their voice suddenly quiet.

     Norton realized he had overstepped. He became keenly aware of the fact that his fingers overlapped around their wrist, so much more slender and slight were they than he. Perhaps that was why they wanted to get on his good side. With his temper and strength, he could see why they would be afraid of him. Abruptly he released them and stepped back. “I’m not promising anything. But I will say this - I don’t want to be enemies.” He offered them a reassuring smile. “Keep the food coming, though, and I might actually start considering friendship.”

     The Naturalist likewise took a step back, but they were visibly less tense now. There was even a little smile tugging at the corner of their lips. “Alright.”

     Having finished cleaning the last drops of soup from the pot and devouring the bread, Norton set his dishes in the sink. “Thanks again for the soup. Good night, Naturalist.”

     “You’re welcome,” they replied as they rolled their sleeves up to start washing dishes. “Good night, Prospector. Sleep well.” 

     There was something different in their voice, a softness that hadn’t been there before. As mundane as their parting sentiment was, he actually believed they meant it. 

[a-table-of-fics]

The Man from Utah, Chapter 7, Draft 1

The cleanup was easy – Liam had found a push broom and worked to shove the bodies of their assailants downhill, and hopefully downwind. The harder task was to find a place for Dan to fit through; these doorways were not expecting someone of his size.

After some debate, though, they decided there’d be enough shelter to protect them even if they had to tear through a wall or two. They could always barricade, after all. As for maintaining his armor, he could take some scrap from that demolished door, and some plating from the electronic lock.

“You good?” Liam asked, looking at the scars across his friend’s face. A couple of them were bloodstained.

“Please, sir Liam,” Dan replied, giving a yellow smile, “I have had worse. This will clear up shortly.”

Liam nodded. It sounded about right, or at least, it might as well be true.

“How about you, Fletcher?”

“Eh, just some bruises, really.”

Fletcher reached into his smock and pulled out a small cylinder. A quick unscrew revealed a white, putty-like substance within. He took some of the stuff and dabbed it over some of his scratches and bruises.

“What’s that? Some kinda new treatment?”

“Nah,” Fletcher admitted. “But it looks better than gauze, doesn’t it?”

Liam didn’t know how to respond to that, so he instead started to shove any loose scrap and junk in front of the exposed hole in the wall. There wasn’t any sign of life around, but Nevada had taught him that any barrier is a good barrier.

There was the smell of burnt rubber and rotten meat all around, but there wasn’t much that could be done there. Even the AAHW had a hard time clearing out scents like that. Still, it would be distracting, and Liam knew it might keep him from sleeping if they chose to do that.

He looked at the grocery bag Fletcher had recovered from the wreck and started rooting through it. Maybe some good-tasting food would help distract from the sickening air. Inside, he saw Finger Salads, Superb Meat Squares, Piconjios, Timetracking Fruit Shortcakes, and even a small supply of Ferdinand’s Canned Unknowns from Kentucky.

It was honestly a hell of a lot more than he expected them to have. Still, he doubted it would be a good meal for one night, let alone a trek out to wherever Fletcher needed to be.

He passed the food around, making sure to keep some Piconjios and a shortcake for himself, at least. Fletcher seemed to prefer the meat squares and shortcakes, while Dan was partial to the salads and the Canned Unknowns with red labels, specifically.

“Y’know,” Fletcher remarked, picking up one of the cans, “I never understood that brand. What’s a ‘Kentucky’?”

“’Tis a mystery for the ages,” Dan shrugged, splitting a can in half with his hands. “But whatever it is, it provides quality sustenance.”

“Kentucky, Kentucky…” Liam mused. “Rings a bell… might be a place like Utah, actually…”

“Utah?” Fletcher asked. “What’s that? Is that the place that gave you those weird lines on your face?”

Liam sighed.

“Yeah, I’m from Utah. Guess the face gives it away, heh. Plus the fact that there, we don’t have weird commands telling us to murder.”

“What are you talking about? We don’t have something telling us to kill, either… It’s just a Nevadean-eat-Nevadean world out there, y’know?”

“It is indeed a dangerous land,” Dan conceded, “but I must agree that there seems to be widespread compulsions to fight.”

“You might want to get that checked,” Fletcher said. “For the rest of us, there’s Zeds everywhere, and you’re gonna have a hard time getting anything with how little there is. Well, unless you really like rocks.”

“And that’s another thing,” Liam pointed out. “Ever since the sky went dark—”

“You can blame Hank for that one, from what I heard.”

“…Sure. Since Hank turned the sun off, I haven’t seen any trees or rivers or anything. I saw a couple of them before, but now… how is anyone still around?”

“Hey, there are still deliveries and vending machines!”

“I know, but… no one seems to know places outside of Nevada. Where are you…?”

Liam sighed.

“Never mind. You’re right; there’s probably someplace….”

“See? It’s not so bad that we lose our supply chains. We just have zombies and psycho killers, is all!”

“And with those words of comfort,” Dan said, removing his helmet, “perhaps it would be wise to rest and plan our next move come the dawn.”

“Yeah,” Liam said, padding his coat over a relatively clean chunk of rock, “what dawn?”

It was a calming few moments as he started to drift off into sleep, blurry red lines blinking in front of his vision. Ever since he had come to Nevada, he had had to get used to that. At this point, he wondered if he could get to sleep without flickering away to dreaming anymore.

Beep!

So much for that; he shot up to see Fletcher with a flip phone, frantically trying to silence it.

“Wait,” Liam asked, “Who’re you calling? Why’d you have to--?”

“Turns out it’s hard to call when being chased by Zeds or bandits, who’da thunk?”

Liam was about to say something else, but was silenced by a raised index finger from Fletcher.

“…Yeah, hello?” Fletcher said. “…Sorry, got held up. Got chased by Zeds and some bandits… Yeah, I still have the briefcase… Yeah, still unopened, just got a couple of bloodstains… Understood. I’ll be waiting at the foot of the plateau. Watch for the truck wreckage.”

With that, he hung up and made his way to the door, taking his hat back onto his head and clutching his briefcase close to his side. The door had slid open when he felt a massive hand on his shoulder.

“Will you need assistance heading down?” Dan asked. “There could still be danger about.”

“No,” replied Fletcher, using his other hand to snatch a rifle from the nearby pile. “I think I’ll manage. Best of luck to you two in renovating this place or whatever you wanted to do.”

“Hey, wait!” Liam called out. “Could you call and ask if your guy can take a couple more?”

Fletcher snorted.

“Come on, do you think ObduraCorp will take a couple of strangers like you for a free ride? I’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know, and letting freeloaders in won’t—”

“How about the Nevadeans that saved your life?” Dan asked, before turning to Liam. “Pardon me: Nevadean and Utan. Surely a display of gratitude could only aid you.”

Fletcher felt a tinge of guilt, not helped by the meaty, metal-encased hand still on his shoulder giving a more immediate sense of dread. Sighing, he lifted his phone again, this time beeping constantly as he sent a message to his ride out of here.

Climbing down wasn’t an issue, especially since they were in no hurry. They found a large rock over by the obliterated truck. The fires still blazed, white flickering against the grey of the barren ground and gleaming against the metal of the truck.

Liam looked from side to side, once again seeing nothing but an empty horizon, although now there was a canyon several miles ahead. Given there was nothing to look at, he looked to Fletcher, whose crossed face didn’t move from his briefcase.

“So,” Liam said, “ObduraCorp, huh? Can’t say I heard of them.”

“Not hard to imagine,” Fletcher scoffed. “The guy who drove straight into bandit territory wouldn’t know about us.”

Liam was about to say something, but stopped, instead shifting his seat and looking at the nondescript ground.

“You’re right,” he said. “I should’ve guessed they were there, with the way Nevada is.”

“We must remain ever vigilant,” Dan said, nodding from behind. “We were able to fend these ne’er-do-wells off, and likely could do so again, but they only need to claim victory once.”

A silence fell over the group. The flames behind them silently made their shadows dance towards the horizon.

“We make armor of all kinds,” Fletcher finally said. “Nothing like Dan’s collection of scrap. Admittedly strong armor, mind you!”

He shrunk a little, hearing the low rumble from Dan.

“A-anyway, we make helmets, bulletproof vests, riot shields, steel-toed boots, you name it!”

Liam’s gaze shifted back to the metal briefcase Fletcher was so protective of.

“So, is that a new product or something?”

“Even if I wanted to tell you,” Fletcher replied, hand once again over the latch, “I couldn’t. I’m not supposed to look into the deliveries.”

“That’s fair,” Liam nodded. “Do you at least have any cool client stories while we wait?”

“Not… really. I’m an accountant.”

Fletcher drummed his fingers for a moment.

“A damn good one, don’t you get it wrong.”

Liam nodded, figuring it’d be best if he didn’t ask why an accountant was playing delivery boy, or how he became such a marksman for that matter. Nevada was already weird enough, and Fletcher was at least getting them further east, hopefully. Looking a gift horse in the mouth would probably be a bad idea.

He wasn’t sure where that expression came from, actually.

He was about to muse on what a “horse” was when he saw a shadow start to loom over him, gliding lazily over the ground. He looked up to see a building, floating over them, with the occasional bloodstain on the wall or hole beneath the ground.

He gawked as Fletcher groaned and Dan reached for his sword.

“I had heard stories of a flying fortress,” Dan said, “but had not believed them.”

“Wha… I hope this is your lift, Fletcher.”

“I should hope not,” Fletcher grumbled, getting up to run closer to the wall. “That thing’s been a distraction ever since I signed up, even before it started crashing down over and over.”

His two companions took the hint, joining him closer to the rocky wall.

“It’s way quieter though,” Fletcher remarked. “Usually blasting rave music everywhere.”

The building soon cleared them entirely, and kept flying into the horizon. Liam took the opportunity to pull a pair of binoculars from his looted pack and try to peer through the windows. It took some focusing, but he gasped once he got a good look through one of the windows.

Past the blood, he could see the slumped bodies of two Nevadeans in agent suits. One of them had the trademark black shades of the AAHW. Well, if the violent death couldn’t stop the party, surely the Agency did. He just hoped no living Agent saw him. Sure, he was bundled under a hat and scarf again, but he still ran away from the AAHW in that disguise.

He’d have more time to worry about that, but a white van had rushed in from the west, making an abrupt stop with only a small screech. The logo on the side read “ObduraCorp” in big, blocky letters, and thick rivets around the framing suggested the vehicle could take some punishment.

The red-tinted window rolled down, revealing a Nevadean with long, wavy hair draped over her shoulders and a bandana over her face.

“Password?” she asked in a haggard voice, pointing a shotgun out of the window.

“Hey, no call for that!” Fletcher protested, putting his hands up. “You know me, Doto!”

“Policy says I can shoot you if you don’t answer, Fletcher!”

“Ugh, fine!” Fletcher sighed, lowering one hand to get the briefcase. “The password is sabaton. Now let us in.”

“Hang on a sec. You said I was picking up a big guy and some ‘equals’ guy. I see the G03-LM, but what do you mean by…”

Liam lowered his scarf and raised his glasses, giving Doto a clear look at his face. He patiently gave her a moment to stare. He was used to that.

However, she didn’t take that long to gawk, instead nodding and turning back to the wheel.

“Yeah, pile in then.”

With a click and a whoosh, the rear door unfolded, allowing the trio to clamber in. There was a bench on one side for Fletcher and Liam to sit, but Dan had to lie down on his side, facing them. Red lights came on as the door shut again, and they could see several metal crates tied below the bench and to the passenger side of the front. An assault rifle was kept with Doto’s shotgun on the dashboard, and they started to slide slightly as the van purred to life. Vests and plated armor were dangling from the ceiling and started to swing.

“Just keep your hands off the merch,” Doto said, glaring into the mirror.  “You’re just getting this favor ‘cause Fletcher says you’re going the same way. Nothing extra unless you’re paying, got it?”

“No problem,” Liam replied.

“We can do well with our own arms,” Dan added. “No need to dishonor you with theft.”

“Just gotta worry about Fletcher, then.” Doto nodded, enjoying her co-worker’s annoyance. “So, where are you two going, then?”

“I’m just trying to get home,” Liam said carefully.

“It is possible there is someone within his domain that can assist with my own,” Dan added.

“He said he was from some place called Ew-Taw,” Fletcher said. “Said it had something to do with how his face is.”

“That was gonna be…”

“Your next question,” Liam finished, “yeah.”

The ride was silent for a few moments. Fletcher kept his briefcase close to his chest, not daring to look at anything or anyone else.

“So,” Liam said, finally. “Fletcher said he was an accountant…”

“…damn good one, too…” Fletcher muttered.

“My question is, what got him delivering something?”

“I… don’t know,” Doto replied. “We have plenty of couriers. Maybe they wanted to give him a shot at being a representative...? No, that can’t be it.”

“And why is that, dear courier?” demanded Fletcher. “C’mon, why couldn’t I be an ObduraCorp rep? Enlighten me.”

“I wonder.”

Liam looked down, digging a soothing canned tea out of his bag. There was no point listening to those two bicker any more, so he just focused on enjoying a relatively safe ride, with no hostiles after him.

“Hope you’re comfortable,” he said, nodding to Dan.

“For now,” Dan admitted, “but worry not; I shall not allow this to become complacency. Should anything happen, I will be ready to protect us. I trust you will be the same way.”

The red lighting that kept them illuminated glinted just under his visor, and Liam could swear he saw numbers just out of the corners of his vision. Something labeled “PPK”, and it said “6”.

He suddenly felt the weight of the gun in his pocket, and swallowed.

“I think we could say that, yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while. Even Doto and Fletcher stopped bickering after a couple minutes. There was nothing but the roar of the engine and the rattle of armor bouncing against armor. Trying to get a view of Nevada through the windshield was hardly an option; it was the same canvas of grey ground and red skies whenever Liam looked up.

A swerve nearly flung Liam and Fletcher straight into Dan’s chest plate.

“The hell was that?!” Fletcher demanded, picking his hat up. “You trying to keep us awake, or did you forget how to drive?”

“Keep your cheap suit on,” Doto snapped, “just didn’t expect that trainwreck.”

“There are no—” Fletcher started to scoff, but stopped.

There was the proof; they could all see the white flames flickering off the burning remains of a train engine, with the occasional scorch mark or bloodstain to accentuate the destruction. The strangest part was there was no track, and the trail the engine had rammed through the earth suggested it had flown in from the other side of the canyon.

Well, at least it put an end to the bickering. Instead, the four started to speculate on what led to such a thing. Doto believed it was an art piece with such conviction that Liam almost believed it, while Fletcher said it must have been some kind of experimental aircraft gone awry.

Liam decided he would keep his opinion to himself; he hardly imagined “fell from the sky with those whales” would go over very well.

“From what everyone has described,” Dan rumbled, “it sounds more like the aftermath of a great battle. I know not the details, nor can I see them, but this engine you speak of was surely the setting for a fight.”

“Yeah,” Fletcher scoffed, “welcome to Nevada.”

At least the ride to the city was more pleasant. Doto and Fletcher jabbed at each other, still, but it was easy enough to keep it short. Dan was able to adjust a little, and at least rest his head on a crate. Liam could swear he could hear a rumble of relief.

“Look alive,” Doto finally said. “Your stop’s coming up.”

“About time,” Fletcher said, wiping his glasses on his smock. “But yeah, glad I got you this time round.”

“Yeah, yeah, now get outta here. I still have a quota, you know.”

The trio clambered out the back, looking at the garage in front of them as Doto started to drive off. Just like everything and everyone else in Nevada, it was grey and battered. The only thing making this building distinct was a sign labeled “Len’s”, the letters flickering orange.

“I suppose this is where we part ways,” Dan said, giving a brief nod. “It was certainly… a pleasure to assist such a marksman as yourself.”

“Hope whatever the deal is goes okay,” Liam hurriedly said, before Fletcher could think about why Dan hesitated to compliment there, “But we should get going while the day’s still young.”

Before he could even turn to leave, however, the door rumbled before rushing up with a slam!

“Are you the ObduraCorp reps?” asked a Nevadean in angular glowing shades. He adjusted his ragged pink coat and matching hat. “You’re late.”

“Yeah,” Fletcher said, taking his hat off. “Sorry ‘bout that, sir. Just got attacked by…”

His voice trailed off as he heard his customer breathe deeply and count to himself. It was a somewhat raspy voice, one gotten from plenty of screams and bellows in the past.

“It’s n-no matter,” he said, orange lenses staring into Fletcher. “So, you people wanted to talk business and had something for me? Do come in!”

The three could hear the mirthless smile, and saw the man shake somewhat.

“Oh, we’re not… er, that is…”

“I am the representative here,” Fletcher interjected, “thank you. These are merely bodyguards, you see.”

He stepped forward, slowing slightly as he saw Len’s own bodyguards – one with a pompadour and an automatic rifle, and the other with a cowboy hat and a hacksaw. They shifted their stances, just in case something was about to start, but it looked to all the world like they were trying to avoid Len’s sneer, too.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Len asked, with practiced calm. “I’m here for a business talk – let’s do it already!”

Fletcher stepped forward, ready to open his briefcase. Liam and Dan exchanged glances, but did not move. Liam was about to turn to leave, but saw another Nevadean with a blue scope wrapped around her face and light pink hair spiking out of her head. Her gun was pointed straight at them, and she motioned for them to follow their charge. Liam gently nodded, walking inside while Dan followed.

“So,” Len said, leaning forward on his seat, “I trust you’ve already seen my proposal. My crew and I could certainly use your services, and I think ObduraCorp could use ours. I hope you found our offer generous.”

“Oh, it certainly was,” Fletcher replied, with equally practiced confidence. “Of course, that’s why I’m here with this. We like to give a more personal response, and we hope it’s appreciated.”

Len hummed as Fletcher put the briefcase on the table, finally unlatching it. He opened it up, taking a glance inside before flinching in shock.

“Er, I beg your pardon, sir, but there must have been some clerical error. I’m going to have to take this back and—”

“Bull!” Len shouted, grabbing the open case from Fletcher and spinning it so he could see. He produced a note which he read aloud: “Thank you for your interest in ObduraCorp. At this time, we are not seeking a defense contract?!”

Len took a long, hissing breath. His subordinates shifted away from him slightly, making sure they were clear of anything they might happen.

“Please accept this premium chest plate for your continued interest… Well, let’s see here…”

He pulled it out, revealing it as a metal square with straps, about the size of a purse. Len looked down at his own plating, a modified manhole cover, and seethed.

“You know,” he said, gently resting the square onto the table, “I’ve taken great personal risk to even get this meeting.

His hands shifted, and he gently tapped the table with the ObduraCorp plating, making a rhythmic fidget.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I figured me and my colleagues could use some assistance.”

Tap tap tap.

“This could have been lucrative for both of us.”

Taptaptaptaptaptap.

“I-I’m… truly sorry,” Fletcher stammered, frantically looking for a way out of this, “I had no idea…”

Slam!

The table collapsed, and Len stumbled forward. He didn’t seem to be looking anywhere in particular, and he was trembling. He slowly raised the chest guard over his head.

“Maybe I can give you people a clue, then!”

Fletcher raised his hands, still trying to find something to say. Len’s cohorts only watched, keeping their weapons ready in case something started. Dan instinctively stepped forward, but his movements were slow and clumsy in this small garage. Len swung.

Clang!

The armor was now embedded into the garage door, leaving a strong dent. Len looked down in shock to find that Liam had tackled the target to the ground, sending his hat and spectacles skittering across the ground. This view was interrupted by a large sheet of scrap metal gently poking against his chest. He looked up to see Dan, clearly willing to push his sword forward if it came to that.

“’Tis bad form to attack the messenger,” he said, evenly.

Len winced, but did not back down.

“Then how about attacking his guards? Get ‘em, boys!”

Len used the sword thrusting forward as a platform, climbing on top faster than Dan could react. He ran across, ending his run with a punch against Dan’s face. His helmet dented, and he reeled backwards into the wall, while Len landed on the ground none the worse.

“You’ve missed out,” he said. “I’ll show all of you why.”

Liam rolled off of Fletcher, getting up just in time to greet the barrel of the pompadour’s gun.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 35400

Wait, why was it giving a timer for this? Was something else coming?

He couldn’t worry about that now; he was too busy falling prone to do so. He just barely missed his face getting blown off in the process. He grabbed at the pompadour’s foot, and pulled. His foe fell over, dropping his rifle.

Liam wasted no effort as Fletcher grabbed his spectacle and hat, running over to pick up the gun and toss it to him. Fletcher instinctively reached his hand up, and caught it.

“Ugh, you messed up my hair!” Pompadour said, pulling a baseball bat off his back. “Oh, what I’ll do to—”

Bang! Bang!

He keeled over, two bullet holes in his back.

“Right,” Fletcher said, adjusting his glasses. “Now where’s Len? I have a few words—"

No time to look around; he had to block a buzzsaw with his rifle. Sparks flew as Fletcher and the cowboy struggled. They shoved back and forth for a moment, Fletcher wincing as the blocked saw got closer to his face.

And then Liam hit the cowboy over the head with a chunk of broken table. The cowboy went down, bleeding profusely.

Fletcher tossed the ruined gun down and looked around. Just in time, he turned to see a battered Dan throwing Len across the room. He landed with a sickening crunch, but this would not deter him. He was quick to leap up, orange leaking from his wounds. He looked at his fallen comrades.

“You’ll be happy to know,” he said, fingers twitching, “my cohorts here will be patched up soon. I can’t say the same for you.”

He pulled out a walkie-talkie and hit a button on the side. Within seconds an alarm started blaring. The double door in the back burst open, revealing more strangely-clad Nevadeans wielding a variety of weapons.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 33604

“Stay your arms,” commanded Dan, lifting his sword. “Allow us to leave and no one else needs to be slain.”

Several of Len’s employees paused in their advance, gawking at Dan. Others, however, simply charged forward, wholly prepared to take Dan on. The rest ran for Liam and Fletcher.

Liam hit a few with the shattered debris, but these were far more formidable people, and they were ready for him. It was all he could do to dodge slashes and make himself difficult to shoot at. Dan sending more bodies flying certainly made the latter far easier.

“To me!” Dan shouted to his allies.

Fletcher grabbed the ruined gun and buzzsaw on his way there, but other than that, neither he nor Liam needed to be told twice. They ducked behind Dan, who swung his sword from side to side, warding off the melee attackers while his armor deflected the incoming gunfire.

“Tell me you have something that can fix a rifle in a hurry,” Fletcher said, eyeing two goons in the back assembling what looked like an RPG. He hoped it wasn’t; it would kill both friend and foe in this kind of space.

Liam finally had a moment to pull out his bag and take a look. While he didn’t have a way to repair the gun, he could replace it. Hopefully a pistol would be enough.

Wordlessly, Fletcher snatched the Magnum and dropped the rifle. He took just a second’s aim before blowing the head off the one holding the bazooka.

“Nice shot,” Liam said, wiping the gore off his hat. “Maybe I could…”

He looked down, spotting a grenade.

“Hit the dirt!”

Fletcher and he were able to get out of the way, but Dan was thrown off-balance, shrapnel flying off his metal boot. The melee thugs pressed the advantage, preparing more grenades while the gunners took aim at the other two.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 32694

Liam looked back and saw the door shaking, trying to open. The chest plate fell out, but the horrible dent it left made it impossible to open the door.

“Can you give some cover fire?” he asked, grabbing the armor.

“Just keep giving me weapons and ammo!” Fletcher replied.

Liam passed the bag in case there was more weaponry there. The straps to the armor he had were frayed, but he figured a shield in his hands would work better anyway. He rushed ahead, blocking strikes and gunfire.

Pow!

A goon with a yellow scope on his face suddenly had it embedded into his skull by Obdura-brand plating before he could open fire on Fletcher. Liam tossed the revolver back before knocking the wind out of a couple more Nevadeans. He tried to ignore the red lettering he was seeing, with a number rising with each hit. His satisfaction wasn’t coming from that, no, not at all. It was just his pride in protecting his friends.

Best not to dwell on that, though. He had to get them all an escape route and focus on making sure his allies had room and resources to fight.

Finally, he made it to the other guy with the RPG, knocking him down before he could attempt to reload it himself. He took the “Spicy Grenade” himself, thankful that it rolled harmlessly rather than detonating, and took a look at the huge launcher. It looked heavy enough for two, but he figured he wouldn’t need super-precise aim for his plan. He wasn’t sure if he was loading the rocket correctly, but the nose was pointing outwards, and it was affixed to the front of the gun, so it looked right at least.

He was about to take aim at the door when Len lifted him up by the throat.

“Oh no,” Len hissed. “You’re not leaving like that.”

He struck Liam in the face before pulling them both further into the facility. He threw Liam behind a vending machine, running back himself before Fletcher could get a bead on him.

“You could have ignored it,” he said, continuing to beat on Liam. “You could have said let me have my moment, and we could have moved on. But you had to make a scene! And now no one’s dying quietly! You know how much I’m going to pay Skinner to get my crew back?!”

Liam managed a swing, which Len effortlessly blocked. But it did give him a moment to swing his torso. He was less experienced in hand-to-hand combat than Len was, but he still had the weight to knock him back a bit.

Finally getting a moment to breathe again, he grasped for something, anything to strike with. His hand wrapped around a loose screwdriver, and he made his move, piercing his attacker’s shoulder.

Len cried out, dropping Liam to check the wound leaking orange. It wasn’t enough to stop him, but from Len’s hissing, it seemed hurt like hell. Liam took the opportunity to make a break for it, stumbling across pieces of vending machine. He still had to blow the door open, and the sooner he could, the better.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 30654

Why was that timer so long?

He jumped over a few corpses, ducking past combatants still in the fray. Miraculously, the rocket launcher was untouched. He rushed for it, jumping past Dan’s battered sword and stopping just short of someone Fletcher drew a bead on.

Frankly, he was surprised their enemies were still going. He was even more surprised he was allowed to reach the launcher again. He didn’t know how long this luck would hold out for, so he couldn’t waste too much time with aiming.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

A couple of Len’s hirelings were reduced to paste, but more importantly, the door was finally gone. In the stunned silence, Liam dashed out alongside his companions.

If only there wasn’t a gunner still out there.

“No one move,” she called out, drawing a fast bead on Fletcher’s forehead, “or your payday gets it!”

Dan and Liam froze, looking back to see Len slowly approaching. He was shaking violently, and even his surviving hirelings were giving him a wide berth as they joined him.

“Enough,” he said, in a voice somewhere between a growl and a cackle.

He stomped over, trembling hands reaching for Fletcher. They soon found their way grasping his head, making him wince and cry in pain.

“I have had it.”

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 30202

“Wait!” Liam shouted, noticing Len’s men taking aim at him as he stepped forward.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I-it’s not him. He’s just the messenger.”

“He insulted me!”

“Be that as it may,” Dan chimed in, “This does not lend you to the best reputation. Surely, you must think of your business, and what future alliances you can forge.”

This, at least, seemed to give Len pause for thought. He turned to look at his damaged garage, and his surviving lackeys.

“I… this is Nevada. They must know that we’re strong, and we won’t be jerked around!”

A few cheers came from his lackeys.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 29403

Damn. Liam wasn’t sure if they’d survive for that long at this rate.

“Maybe so,” he conceded, taking a couple smaller steps forward, “but don’t you worry about making an enemy out of ObduraCorp? You might be strong, but that chest plate alone was crazy!”

“Bit late for tha—ow!” Fletcher muttered, feeling the pressure on his head intensify.

“Let them come, then,” Len replied. “If we can’t have that deal, we can always pry that armor of your corpses.”

Heartier cheers came from everyone else. A few raised their weapons, just to get the point across.

“And if you can’t?” Liam asked, slowly approaching. “They—we could easily overrun you. You needed our help, remember.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Fletcher hissed, reminding Liam of whose melon was on the line.

“Your help?” Len laughed a shrieking song with no rhythm or tune, “Look at you! You high and mighty armorers are outmatched, and outclassed! I’ve taken MAGs on that were more threatening than that G03-LM you’re lugging around!”

More cheers. Liam was getting closer, but he stole a glance at Dan. He had been through a lot, and it certainly showed on his banged-up and torn armor. Yellow teeth glinted from an exposed part of the helmet, and his blade barely covered the exposed smock on his side.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 28801

At least Liam was almost there, and maybe he could do something to save Fletcher.

“Debtor has been located,” boomed a voice behind him. “Proceeding with collection.”

“What the--!?” cried one of Len’s men, before opening fire.

Liam hit the dirt, and Fletcher soon joined him with a grunt. He risked peeking, and past Fletcher, he saw a gargantuan Nevadean with a green lens over one side of their face. A yellow display hung right above their chin, and their hands seemed to be completely encased in blocks of titanium. Their torso was wrapped in massive ribs, like that of a whale. They fit snugly over the shirt they were wearing.

One that said “Mac’s”.

“Oh shit!” Liam cried. “There’s no way it’s been a week!”

“What the--?” Fletcher hollered, dusting his cap off.  “What kind of debt did you take--?”

He looked at Dan, and gawked for a moment before scrambling to find a weapon in the confusion.

“You ditched a MAG maker?!”

“I had every intention of paying them back!”

“If you’re gonna try to pull a fast one, you at least go for a MAG before you do that!”

“Halt your disputes!” Dan commanded, stepping between them and all of their enemies. “We can clarify and reprimand once the battle is won!”

“Right,” Liam nodded, looking into the garage. “We should see what we can get for the fight. Let’s hope our friends can buy us some time, at least.”

Several black-capped hirelings ran out of the doorway, shoving Liam and Fletcher aside to get to the MAG that was pulverizing their colleagues. Immediately, one of the MAG’s metal blocks opened to reveal a controlled claw that snapped the head clean off of one of them, while the other made for a solid shield against much of the gunfire.

“Yeah, I hope so,” Fletcher said, before the two of them ducked into Len’s.

It was unsurprisingly vacant. Amid the corpses, there were still weapons strewn around from that crowded fight, and there was plenty of debris to go around.

Fletcher wasted no time in picking up an assault rifle and running to back Dan up.

“Your idiot’s gonna get torn to pieces out there,” he said. “If you see another turret, get it now!”

Liam took the hint, searching for any security systems. While he was able to kick more guns over to Fletcher, this place was no military facility; it was more of a warehouse. There were crates on top of crates across all of the walls. With his luck, they’d be full of sewing buttons or something.

Still, he opened a crate to be sure. To his surprise, he found it was full of car batteries. No weapons or anything.

His head turned and really took a look at that vending machine. The cover was already off…

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 17100

Dan was taking a beating. Between his struggles to keep the MAG at bay and the mercenaries aiming at his now-exposed points, he felt more blood than air on him after this.

“You can be repossessed after,” the MAG said calmly. “Move so I may settle the debt properly.”

His fists of metal ground against Dan’s sword, sending sparks and shrapnel everywhere.

“I belong,” Dan said, spitting bloody bullets out of his mouth, “to no man.”

“A renegade, then? Oh, won’t that sweeten the pot!”

Dan started to buckle as gunfire continued to hit his side through the gash in his armor. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but if this was where he was going to die, he was going to go out fighting.

He stepped back, letting the MAG stumble for a bit before Dan turned to his other adversaries, charging forward. He was better able to deflect their shots from this angle, and he could swing his sword still. Grace no longer mattered; so long as he still had a wide arc, he’d be able to deal some serious damage.

They were quick to dodge, ducking and weaving around Dan. The less savvy were already taken care of, leaving those who would anticipate a move like this.

They took aim, preparing once again to shoot him, and immediately felt something tugging at their hands. Some of their guns had even pulled themselves out of their hands, flying over to the plating of a vending machine before slamming on there.

Liam left his electromagnet on for another couple of seconds before turning it off. The guns clattered onto the ground before being picked up by Fletcher.

“Ready?” Fletcher asked, taking the guns behind their shield.

Slowly, the two advanced, reactivating their shield. They could hear the clangs of more weapons, and Liam turned off the shield once more as they felt themselves get tugged forward. They confirmed they were closer to Dan, and Liam stepped out tentatively.

“We don’t have much time,” Liam said. “Can we get this on your side?”

Dan nodded, panting as he picked it up. Liam turned it on one last time, and Dan was able to get it to adhere over the gash in his armor. Once again, weapons were flying over there, while bullets bounced against the plating harmlessly.

“You idiots!” Len cried. “We have a common enemy here!”

They turned to see him clinging to the ribs that adorned the MAG. He clawed at the MAG’s chest, and even gave a couple of small wounds before being swatted off, barely tumbling before he sprung up again.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 14900

“You’re disarming all my men, leaving us to deal with your mess here?! Die!”

Len charged forward, only to be shot by Fletcher. The wounds in his chest made him stumble, but he pressed forward as some of the henchmen grabbed Fletcher and Liam from behind. They gave a few swift punches to their faces and torsos, causing them to buckle downward. They were going to continue the beating, but Len’s raised hand and cold glare stopped them.

“Unhand them!” Dan bellowed, but Fletcher had gone from a slow walk to a swift leap in an instant, latching himself onto Dan’s helmet.

Dan struggled, dropping his sword in an effort to grab Len, but he was swift. Len made it a point to kick him in the exposed teeth, making him clutch his mouth instinctively. This gave his attacker ample time to grasp under the helm and pull at a crack. It took only a second for the helm to fall apart around Dan’s head, sliding to the ground in so many loud clatters.

By the time Dan was able to take another swing, Len was gone, making his way over to Liam. He could see that the MAG didn’t care for any of this drama, instead marching towards the group. He could try to take on Len or the oncoming MAG, but not at once.

Wrenching his sword from his magnetized plating, he steeled himself for the giant’s attacks once more. He felt pieces of his helmet as they pelted his side, but ignored them to focus on making strikes against the MAG.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 14541

To say Liam was exhausted at this point would be an understatement. His blurry vision just caught the glowing orange of Len’s shades, and he could see swift swings of metal somewhere behind, vaguely hearing grunts and growls from Dan and the giant.

“For a bodyguard,” Len said, calmly, “You’ve been far more of a menace than your leader. It’s a shame that you didn’t know your place.”

He lifted his hands to either side of Liam’s head, and prepared to twist.

“W-wait!” Liam protested. “Maybe we can—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, as a slam from the MAG’s gauntlet shook the earth, knocking them both off-guard. Liam scrambled back, grabbing a knife and throwing it in Len’s direction. Miraculously, it hit his shoulder, and Liam couldn’t help but cheer at his assailant’s grunts of pain.He lunged forward, swinging wildly at Len in his window of opportunity.

Combo[0NK%O^N]==3

Combo[0NK%O^N]==4

Combo[0NK%O^N]==5

He heard a satisfying snap, and Len collapsed. Maybe this was it, and they could just evade the MAG until whatever was at the end of that Survive thing happened. Maybe they could all run away from the fight, like that time with the AAHW.

And then Len rolled over, leaping up and growling. He lunged at Liam, only to be riddled with bullets from a TerrorNine. Once again, he went down, hissing on the way.

“Courtesy of ObduraCorp,” Fletcher said, tossing the smoking gun aside before picking another up. “Now, let’s get outta here while your G03-LM’s distracting the MAG!”

“You kidding?” Liam asked, searching for a gun himself. “I’m not leaving Dan!”

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 13980

He had no idea why that timer was so insufferably long, but dammit, he lasted this long, and the trio was going to see it through.

“You still owe one thousand,” the MAG said, turning to glare at Liam. “Compounded with the damage to Mac’s property, it will come down to two thousand. Please cease before you have to pay in blood.”

“Not a good time!” Liam shouted as Len’s goons started to join the fray again. “Can you hold off until we’re out of this scrap?!”

“You knew the deadline,” the MAG said calmly, even as he nearly crushed Fletcher with a massive metal hand. “We cannot offer extensions at this time, I’m afraid.”

“It hasn’t been a week!” Liam yelled over his shots at nearby Nevadeans. “It’s been a few hours at most!”

“Have you no sense of time?” Dan grunted, shoving the MAG back. “It has most certainly been a week!”

“A few days since we met,” Fletcher confirmed.

Liam took a moment to look at them incredulously. Between the navigation and this, he had to wonder what the hell was going on with Nevada.

Of course, that thought would have to wait. He still had several goons and a behemoth to contend with, and that ObjectiveState wasn’t ticking any faster. It was only at 5815 ticks.

His disbelief at that leap in time was cut short when he had to hit a knife-wielding Nevadean with a bat. Regardless of how long the timer was, he didn’t need his own cut short.

But the knife was giving him a good idea; ethics aside, it was a chance to buy them all some time. He looked on as Dan’s body twisted towards him, and found a pair of bolt cutters were being carried by his super-magnet, among a mass of weapons and broken armor. Grabbing them quickly, he ducked under another attempted blow and climbed on top of Dan’s back.

“I trust you know what you are doing,” Dan grunted between attacks.

“Not really,” Liam said, preparing to jump, “but it’s worth a shot!”

He jumped, clutching onto one of the MAG’s ribs. Slowly, he dodged efforts to push him off and clambered to the spine. It was wrapped in wires, and Liam was soon able to trace them to the visor.

He couldn’t see the plugs or the black box which presumably led to the payment data, but he could at least sever cords. Being careful to avoid the obvious power cord, he started severing wires. He was quick to pull caps out and cover up the wires before they could shock Mac’s MAG or himself; some habits never died. Soon enough, all that was left was the power.

The visor on the MAG flickered before the light faded entirely. Immediately, he went from flailing to reach Liam to flailing in general.

“That’ll cost you extra!” he exclaimed. “You disconnected my network, but I estimate that will be at least six hundred more on your balance!”

He soon stopped flailing, stepping back as Dan got a good slice on him.

“Of course, we also accept repossession… Of your G03-LM… or your skin!”

He took another swipe, knocking Liam straight off.

“In this case, I can take both!”

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 180

He raised his arms in preparation to pulverize Liam, but before he could even try to slam or try to block an attack from Dan, he heard tires screech over the gunfire. He turned just in time to be slammed by an ObduraCorp van.

A few giant ribs flew every which way as the MAG’s feet dug into the ground. He latched on to keep himself upright, sending rocky ground flying. He tried to punch against the van, but there were very shallow dents at best before the van went into reverse, parking right next to Liam.

“Need a lift?” asked Doto as the doors popped open.

[ask-darling-xoxo]

can you make any nsfw john doe headcannons?

-is definitely a switch

-loves to be touched just as much as he loves touching you, he’s fine with either…though he loves being touched. Makes him feel wanted and loved

-Likes positions where he can see your face, doesn’t give a single fuck if you’re on top of him or on bottom, he’s gotta see your face. He loves seen the expressions on your face as well as the way you look at him

-Can go at any pace you want, he’s just happy to have such an intimate moment with you

-If you want him to go at a fast and rough pace, he most definitely will. He’ll be slamming into you like a dog in heat, humping you erratically to see the way your body jiggles and moves with his movements

-if you want him to go slow and deep, he can. He loves to take his time with you. He’ll drop onto his forearms and really drill into you nice and deep

-LOVES to hear your moans/voice. It’s practically music to his ears and if you try to hide your precious moans? He’s gonna do whatever he can to force your voice out, or possibly coo at you and praise you before sweetly asking “oh love…won’t you let me hear that sweet voice of yours? I need to know how good I’m making you feel…”

-let’s be honest, Doe is a weird and somewhat gross guy….he’s so into licking the sweat off your body. Also loves the raw smell of you that comes with having seggsy time, he gets really mad when you get rid of it but will deal with it.

-Has a breeding kink, he likes to cream pie you and watch as his seed seeps out of your hole before shoving it all back in

-I feel like he’s definitely a thigh guy, he loves to grab at your thighs and kiss them, bite them and have them wrapped around his head

-I know I said he likes to be touched in return but he’s definitely a giver rather than a receiver. He doesn’t mind if you wanna please him but he puts your pleasure above his own. If you want him to eat you out/blow you then so be it

-He has to bite you. He HAS to mark you. It’s just a possessive side of him that comes out when he’s being intimate, a deep urge that calls to him and makes him sink his teeth into your skin to let anyone know that you’re taken. You are his and no one will take you or hurt you.

-has a couple of other kinks he’s into such as blood play, knifeplay, cumplay, breeding kink as I said before, roleplay, and many more that I could name but I think you get the idea. He’s down for anything you want to be honest. If there’s something you don’t like then he will promise to never bring it up unless you do.

-This guy…has a great amount of stamina. He can go many rounds as you want.

-Takes great pride when you moan his name, pull his hair, or if you decide to take knife play up and cut your name into him or make a heart on his skin

-Also loves it when you bite him and leave him hickeys. He wears them proudly and will literally make sure they stay on his skin for a while more than they should

-he’s not particularly too loud but he’s loud enough where you can hear his small pantings, dirty talk (he learns this through the internet…and porn), his small whimpers and whines when your insides tighten around him, and occasionally a loud groan, growl, or moan will escape him. So I guess he’s decently loud

-loves kissing you every chance he gets, your lips are so soft and it’s comforting to him as well as him wanting to show you that he loves you

-if you’re not in the mood to really get penetrated or really get into it, he’s fine doing all the work and LOVES to also eat you out/blow you. It’s very special to him. You could be watching a show while he’s going down on you for his own pleasure or because he’s missed you and needs to taste your sweetness

-gives very good aftercare. Some guys will go straight to sleep without taking care of their s/o but not this guy. You want a nice bath or shower? Doe is on it. He’d help you wash yourself but he’s unable to touch water so he just sits by and waits. While you’re asleep he will also go out to get you food/drinks and will massage your sore muscles and apologize if he was too rough on you.

-overall, he’s a great lover in bed or even as a one night stand…but who could ever just want a one night stand with him? He’s a pleaser and willing to do anything for your pleasure

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#269

“C’mon in. Don’t be embarrassed. When we were talking in the bar, I told you that I’m looking for a service boy and servant, this is what I am talking about. I want to be comfortable throughout my day. I don’t plan on hiding anything due to some social norm, nor do I want to. You’re just going to have to deal with it. You can start to deal by kneeling in front of me, knees spread, with your head bowed….

“Last night you mentioned that when you were discharged from the Navy a couple of weeks ago, that you felt lost with no direction. Hell, you barely have a roof over your head. I took you home to see how well you take my cock. Well, not good. Not surprising considering how thick my cock is. You will need training—lot of it. Starting with, when I place you in a position, keep it. My cock in your ass needs to be at the right angle to give me the most pleasure. You will need to quit fidgeting. Just go with it.

“What impresses me about you is how you naturally fit into the servant role. Keep that mindset up. Clearly that comes from your time in the Navy. If you have been one of those pushy bottoms, —or what do they call them now, power bottoms,—it would not have ended well.

“Like I told you last night, I served 12 years as a captain. I can tell you that the time in service to the country never leaves you. You need to harness that continued willingness to submit to authority. Channel it. Let it serve you here. I will require nothing less. I’ve been looking for a boy that will carry out my orders without question, just like in the Navy.

“Last night you demonstrated that. Is that something you can live with on a permanent basis? You want to service me 24/7?...

“Good! Let’s start off by understanding that I am always in control of every aspect of my life: from my home to my consulting work, to my motorcycles, to my cigars, and to the boys I fuck.

“Inhale deeply. That’s from this cigar I was gifted by a client. It’s supposedly from a private collection of an exclusive maker. It tastes like shit. It’s a good thing we are in the toilet. The smoke has a better smell.

“You are inhaling deeply. That’s good. What do you know about cigars, other than it makes your wang hard when a real man smokes one sitting on the can in front of you?... Figured. You will be required to be educated in every aspect. I need a boy who will manage my collection. I want you to be to the point that you can recommend a smoke based on my mood and what I am doing, like what goes well with an afternoon scotch or what goes well on a bike run or even what cigar goes well with a blumpkin.

“Do you know what a blumpkin is? It’s when a man gets blown while he’s using the toilet. Yeah, move your mouth here. Reach in and pull my cock out. Get to work. I’m going to enjoy whatever I can out of this rather bland cigar.

“I expect a blumpkin every time I sit on the toilet. I want you to get to the point where you believe that my shit don’t stink. I’m not into shit, so don’t worry about that.

“Now, what you are wearing is all you will wear around here. Just a tightly fit T-shirt, cropped just above the pubic line. That’s referred to as ‘shirtcocking,’ that is wearing a shirt that does not hide your exposed pecker and ass. It gives me uncovered access to my toys when I want to. Yes, they do belong to me. I’m not going to put you in a chastity cage. There’s no way I am going to cover up such a beautiful cock, or that perfect ass. I have an at home gym in the basement, you will maintain your physique and ass. Every day, I want to see your ripped lean body filling out that shirt with a plump meaty fuckable ass exposed underneath it. I’m going to get you a script for Cialis, I want you to have a perpetual hard-on, or at least be semi-hard, throughout the day.

“Yes, you will be able to play with yourself, but no cumming without me allowing it. Pretty much the only time that that usually happens when my spent sloppy deflating cock is being cleaned off in your mouth. You still will need permission though, but that’s the best time to ask, pretty much the only time

“Speaking of cleaning, your job is to clean this place spotless. I will break out the white glove from time to time. You will cook. I want this house to run as smooth as if we were both back in the Navy. You will treat me like the officer I am. That includes saluting me. I expect a full sharp salute from you, none of this pansy-assed shit I see out there.

“Oh man, your mouth feels good. You are doing a better job on all fours in front of me than you did last night. Open your throat, I need to take a piss…. Also, I don’t usually announce when I do that. I mean why would a man walk up to a porcelain urinal and announce he’s going to piss in it?... You’ve drank piss before, haven’t you?... I knew it. You will need to fill me in on the details of that. Later.

“Fuck boy. You really are a natural at this. I would never have guessed it from last night. You were a bit drunk. Well you don’t have to worry about that. You will not drink alcohol from this point on, unless it’s in the form of my piss.

“While I am thinking of you in the bar last night, I saw you cruising the bathroom frequently. That’s going to stop. I am in control of you. I’ll decide later if it will be full monogamy from you, or partial with the caveat that I decide who and when. Get this, monogamy to me is not a two way street. I will certainly not be monogamous to you, bring boys home to fuck whenever I feel like. You will not only accept it, but you will welcome it.

“No fucking jealousy. In fact, I want you turned on to me satisfying my pleasure. Your hole should pucker every time you know I am balls deep in another boy’s ass. And after he leaves, I want you to beg to clean his juices off my cock, no matter how nasty.

“Speaking of nasty. You can stop with the blumpkin. You did well with that.

“Lay on your back. I’m ready for the clean-up. Every blumpkin ends with you eating my ass clean. I control the fiber in my diet enough so that I don’t require toilet paper, and wiping is merely a courtesy. So I should be clean. But if not, don’t mention it. Instead put that tongue to good use and clean me up.”