#apparently everyone else was too afraid that he would bite them

[acornered]

I love Virgil!!! I knew vultures were cool but I had no idea how social they could be!

I didn't know either until I started working at the rescue 😊 but I knew Virgil would be my best friend from the moment he pulled the shoelace out of my boot and ate it 😂

Fast forward 5 years and now I cannot start cleaning until I have spent at least 20 minutes preening him and letting him perch on my shoulder.

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Overwhelmed

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Prompt: Reader has bouncing between so many things in her life that is leaving her chronically exhausted. It hasn’t been too much of a problem until one afternoon. The only one that seems to notice is JJ.

Warnings: Near death experience

The blinding sun crinkles your eyes as you drive your way to the Chateau. Sweat beats down your entire body from the day working with your father. He is a construction worker with his own company, and you work with him during the summer for some spending money. Even though he is your father, he still has you doing all the same heavy lifting as anyone else that works for him.

Normally every summer has been fine. You also work at a local gym on Figure 8 almost every day for a few hours. You’d work with your dad in the morning, work at the gym in the afternoon, and hangout or relax with your friends in the evening. 

Though for some reason this summer your dad thinks any free time you have will be with him, unless you’re sleeping of course. You’ve had talks with him, and he always seems to be on the same page. That is until he starts telling you all that he needs help with and how you are going to come and help before and after the gym all week.

Luckily today ended up being a day he didn’t have much for you to do. Instead of wasting another second you made a beeline for your friends before he could change his mind. You love your dad, and the extra cash, but trying to keep up with work and maintaining your social life leaves very little room to just breathe. 

Though you find yourself struggling to try. From the constant buzz of life that has become almost normal, you find yourself getting anxious anytime you are just laying around. Even if you are with your friends. Anytime you aren’t on the boat or helping with the newest endeavor of finding the gold, you feel like you should be doing something.

“Hey it’s my girl!” JJ shouts from the couch on the porch. Beer in hand.

“Hey babe.” You say with a smile after greeting him with a kiss. “Did you guys catch anything on the boat?”

“Not much but we did manage to save some leftovers for you,” your best friend John B offers. “It’s only been sitting out a few minutes.”

Feeling your stomach rumble, you assure him that you are hungry enough to eat it raw. Walking into the kitchen you let your smile faulter. You allow the wandering exhaustion to settle over you for a moment. Holding back the exhaustion is exhausting enough.

You feel the nice warm water wash your hands of drywall dust, paint, and sweat. Heading over to the counter you find your plate and grab a fork before rejoining the boys. Kie apparently has to work tonight since she was out all day with the boys. Though she promised to come back over after her shift at The Wreck.

You take the empty seat next to JJ, and as you do an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. As you dig into your dinner you hope that the guys haven’t noticed. If they ask you if everything is okay, you’re afraid some tears of frustration and tiredness would break through. Instead you focus your attention on the food in front of you and the latest pointless debate between the boys. Before you know it, every last bite on the plate is gone.

“Hey lets go back out on the HSM Pogue!” John B excitedly gets up. “Sun is setting, nice night dip.”

Everyone excitedly agrees and you head into the spare bedroom to slip into your swimsuit. As you pull up your straps, completing your ensemble, there is a knock on the door. Without asking who it is, you tell them to come in. Only one person would want to come in and that is JJ. It is basically his room after all.

Closing the door behind him, JJ takes in the sight of you. The newly defined muscles on your arms and legs from the work with your dad. You can’t complain about the benefit of the job. Though when his eyes meet yours all you can see is concern.

“If you’d rather stay in and relax I’ll stay with you.” JJ offers you. An overwhelming sweep of adoration floods through your senses, but next comes the wave of anxiety. No, I can’t do nothing.

“It’s okay, we can go on the boat.” Your voice upbeat and convincing of the energy you do not contain. “I’m fine.”

Even as the last two words leave your lips, tears form behind your eyes. Thankfully the room is dark, no power on the Cut from the hurricane. Unconvinced, JJ nods and heads back out with the other two. You take two deep breathes as you clear your eyes and slow your now racing heart. With a quick nod at yourself in the mirror, you make your way out to the HSM Pogue.

The sound of the waves hitting against the boat is almost enough to pull you to sleep. That and the warmth of JJ’s arm around your waist. Leaning into him you find your eyes fluttering shut every few minutes. If this wasn’t the first time you’d physically seen everybody in days, you would have just stayed at the Chateau with JJ.

Situating yourself, you lean toward the cooler for a cold beer. Even though you know alcohol is a narcotic it just gives you something to do than think about how tired you are. From the corner of your eye you see JJ analyzing you. Aside from a beer here and there, you aren’t much of a drinker. It isn’t until you send him a smile that he drops his watchful gaze and smiles back.

“This looks like a good spot.” John B insists as he slows the boat to a stop and throws the anchor over.

The four of you jump into the cool water. The sudden alertness gifted by the water sends you through the break into the sky. Though as your body adjusts to its temperature the feeling of exhaustion returns.

JJ wraps his arms around you and peppers your face with kisses. Squealing, you try to pry him away from you but your efforts are futile. Taking your frame in his, JJ manages to throw you a few feet in the direction of Pope. Who of course fakes offence at the unseen attack. Water is thrashed around by each person until a full blown water war breaks out.

Swimming around to the boat, you take deep breathes as you watch the boys continue splashing around. You plan to hide out for a bit before climbing onto the boat and performing a cannon ball that will soak everyone. The splash to end all splashes. Not wanting to spoil the fun yet, you float on your back in the water. 

You close your eyes and feel the cool water soak into your warm skin. The aches and pains from the day’s work unravel from your body. Dark clouds filter behind your eyelids as the sounds around you become more muffled. You know you should get up but you can’t will your body to move. 

The water around you laps farther up your face, and within a few moments you’re completely submerged into the water. Making the mistake to breathe, a burning sensation fills your lungs and your body fights out of its own slumber. But you’ve already breathed in too much water and your body is still too exhausted to propel your body toward the surface. 

**

Looking around JJ realizes that he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a few minutes. He calls out (Y/N)’s name while circling around the boat. Giving up on swimming, JJ climbs up on the boat and surveys around the best he can in the dark.

Panic rises within JJ’s chest and his breathing becomes labored. JJ knew he should have suggested harder that you two stay at the Chateau. He could tell through (Y/N)’s eyes how exhausted she truly is. Just a few nights ago he went to surprise her at home. Crawled in through her window with a big bag of snacks and drinks that will keep her up well into the night. However, the moment JJ wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) was knocked out cold.

With his shaking hands, JJ grabs for a flashlight and shines it on the water. JJ knows he won’t be able to see anything but he can’t think straight. Just before he is ready to radio for help he sees a bubble rise to his right.

Not wasting any time, JJ dives into the water. His eyes spot (Y/N) a few feet down from him, unmoving. A shot of ice cold fear radiates through his body as he fights his limbs to move him toward (Y/N). JJ wraps his arms around her waist and propels his legs to break the surface above.

“HELP!!” JJ screams to John B and Pope. “HELP!!”

The guys hear him and turn to face his panic-stricken face. Realizing that (Y/N) is in JJ’s arms, the guys spring into action. John B gets onto the boat while Pope joins JJ and lifts (Y/N)’s limp body. JJ grabs onto the boat and pulls his body up and is quickly joined by Pope.

“Tell me how to do CPR!” JJ frantically shouts to Pope.

“You think I know?”

“You’re the fucking genius,” JJ lays you flat on your back, “so help me goddammit! I can’t lose her!”

“Okay okay!” Pope presses his fingers against his temple as he thinks about what to do. “Chest compressions! Two sets of 30 and then mouth to mouth. Check for breathing and then start over!”

JJ places his hands over (Y/N)’s chest and begins to press up and down. His actions start off timid, afraid that he will hurt her but feverishly picks up when he sees there is no change. Lowering his mouth to (Y/N)’s, JJ breathes air past her lips and sees her chest rise and fall. JJ can’t believe that only moments ago the last time he was this close the two of you were kissing, and now he is trying to breathe life into her.

I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s my everything. I can’t lose her…

JJ presses up and down (Y/N)’s chest to this mantra. Years ago, his mother left and his father became a raging drunk who is always on someone else’s meds. (Y/N) made him stable, made his life feel stable. Without her, JJ is scared he will end up just like his father. (Y/N) has showed him that there is more to life than the Outer Banks. They always talked about leaving one day, buying a house, running a business, and eventually starting their own family. Right now, all those happy plans are slipping past JJ’s fingertips along with (Y/N).

**

A burning rush of water flows up your throat as a coughing fit surges through your chest. Grabbing on to something nearby, you flip on your side to help expel the contents. Even as all the water leaves your system you keep coughing and feel as though you will never stop.

After what feels like forever, your coughing subsides and you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso. As you take in what happened, you feel your body begin to shake at the realization that you could have died. Tears flood your cheeks and fall against JJ’s bare shoulders. That’s when you register that JJ is shaking as well.

“JJ,” you say as your hand holds the back of his head, “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

JJ doesn’t speak but shakes his head against your skin. His head fits in the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing in your sent. It’s as if he doesn’t believe that you are awake and breathing.

“JJ look at me.” You whisper.

Reluctantly JJ’s eyes meet yours. You see his blood shot eyes and tear-stricken face. JJ leans his forehead against yours as his fingers run through your hair. A pit hits the bottom of your stomach as you think about how worried JJ was and how reckless you were.

“Next time,” JJ takes a deep breath as his voice catches, “can we just stay at the Chateau?”

“Yes, yes.” You sigh in relief.

JJ connects your lips with his. The kiss starts off soft and gentle, but JJ quickly turns it hungry and desperate. It’s as if he needs you instead of air. In this moment you make yourself a promise that you won’t over work yourself from now on. You’ve realized that you aren’t the only one that will become overwhelmed.

[clayvedevs]

ATP Hunger Games Simulator

With relatively little tournaments going on now post-wimbledon, i've decided that the next best thing is to watch the atp top 25 (minus rat) fight to the death in the hunger games. Since that's also not an option, i'm left just simulating what would happen if they were in the hunger games. So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, meet the cast:

And it's lights out and away we go!

Day 1

And already, there are casualties. Local american idiots Ben Shelton and Taylor Fritz team up to fight brit Jack Draper and honorary brit Alex de Minaur. Unfortunately, Ben and Taylor don't make it. Rip american idiots. You found each other in every universe.

As the day goes on, we don't see any more casualties. However, faa is pricked by thorns, which is about the most action so far. Oh and Hubi sparing Lorenzo's life like the gentleman he is. Daniil with explosives, a great combination i'm sure. As night falls, 2 cannon shots can be heard in the distance. Rip Ben Shelton and Taylor Fritz.

Night 1

Some very interesting groups. Not sure why Lorenzo would want to hang out with the guy who just defeated him in a fight, but it's his decision. No more deaths yet. Sebastian Baez is a mood.

Day 2

Novak Djokovic with a spear is something that everyone should be afraid of. But having said that, it is Jack Draper who kills Felix Auger Aliassime, who evidently has not recovered from his earlier thorn prick. Jack - 3, everyone else - 0. A cannon can be heard in the distance. Felix Auger Aliassime, taken from us too soon.

Night 2

Everyone prefers night matches apparently, because all the action is happening at night! Both Chileans fall at the hands of the ruthless Sebastian Korda and the merciless Andrey Rublev respectively. Rip Chile, you had to put clothes on eventually. Alex de Minaur has opted to keep Lorenzo Musetti alive. This is the 2nd time someone could have killed Lore but his puppy dog eyes must have won them over. Will this come back to bite him in the arse? Honestly, i wouldn't need much convincing to snuggle up with Alexander Bublik.

Day 3

Hubi the gentle giant not so gentle, forcing Bublik to kill Karen. If i was Sebastian Korda, i too would question my sanity. I wouldn't even have to be in the hunger games. Alex keeps letting people live, which is nice of him, but what other chance are you gonna get to eliminate the threat that is Novak? Biggest news though, the number 1 seed is out! Yes, Jannik Sinner has been killed at the hands of Sebastian Baez. 4 cannon shots can be heard for the Chileans, Karen and Jannik.

Night 3

Not much to say here, except that Tommy Paul might have an infection, Stefanos is thirdwheeling ruru, and Jack shows mercy for once. Also, i've heard Novak sing in that backhand boys video, and he didn't have the worst vocals.

Day 4

A lot of sanities being questioned. Tommy Paul tried to be too clever and it has backfired on him. Sebastian Korda is the last North American standing. In a repeat of the Dubai semi finals this year, Ugo Humbert has taken down Daniil Medvedev. Is the arena filled with clay? Sebastian Baez seems to be enjoying himself though. And glad to see Andrey try to fix his sleep schedule. 2 cannon shots for Tommy and Daniil.

Night 4

Another night, another Tsitsipas rizz masterclass. First cuddling with Sascha, now holding hands with Jack. In revenge of the Acapulco final, Casper kills Alex. Between this and Daniil, mouse man nation has truly crumbled.

Day 5

It seems like his age is finally catching up with Novak, whose ankle gives out after a chase by the fitter Andrey. After scaring him in Day 4, Holger doesn't finish the job and spares Korda. Maybe he felt bad for the jumpscare? But in a huge twist of events, evidently Bublik hasn't gotten over Hubi forcing him to kill Karen, so he enlists the help of Carlos to get revenge. Poor baby Casper is pricked by thorns. I wonder how he'll fare?

Everyone has failed their mandatory drug test and begins to hallucinate. Sebastian Korda wins the Sebastian Derby, and there goes Latin America's last hope. Both Carlos and Novak die hugging tracker jacker nests. Maybe it's a grand slam winner thing? Also Lorenzo and Holger attempt to run away to wonderland together, but their doomed love story ends there. At least they died together. I know the French eat snails but apparently they also eat scorpions too. And this one is a doozy. A whopping 8 cannon shots can be heard for Alex de Minaur, Hubi Hurkacz, Sebastian Baez, Carlos Alcaraz, Lorenzo Musetti, Holger Rune, Novak Djokovic and Ugo Humbert. At this point, i'm beginning to get scared that Sebastian Korda might actually win this thing.

Night 5

Korda continues his reign of terror, taking out Bublik. Grigor dares to dream, something that he hasn't done in a long time. Probably.

And it's time for the feast!

Oh my! Andrey Rublev has always been a wanted man, but now it seems like he's wanted more than ever, and not in a good way. Grigor doesn't go to the feast. At least he didn't see his lover die.

Day 6

Grigor goes and takes revenge for Andrey's murder, but ultimately decides against going through with it. 2 cannon shots can be heard. Rip Alexander Bublik and Andrey Rublev.

Night 6

Poor Grigor, still haunted by his dead lover. And here's another weird statistic for the atp, tree related deaths - 2. You heard that right ladies and gentlemen. Two people have died from tree related incidents: Jack from falling out of a tree and Sebastian Korda from being stabbed by a tree branch. Ouch. At least his reign of terror is now over.

So, who is still alive?

After flopping on the atp tour for these past months, Casper Ruud, Stefanos Tsitsipas and Grigor Dimitrov suddenly find themselves with a chance at victory. Will it be the iceman Casper Ruud who will find himself winning a title bigger than a 250? Will the balding, bisexual, Bulgarian Grigor Dimitrov win his 2nd title since 2017? Or will Stefanos "daddy issues" Tsitsipas prove that he can win without on-court coaching? Stay tuned to find out.

Day 7

Casper goes back to his Scandi roots and builds a shack worthy of rivaling ikea furniture. 1hbh off and Grigor runs away, knowing he can't shank the ball as well as Stefanos can. 2 shots can be heard for Jack Draper and Sebastian Korda.

Night 7

Stefanos wasn't invited to the cuddle party. The shock of that was too much for him and he passed out. Not fatally though.

Day 8

Stefanos, in awe of Grigor's backhand and slice, knows he cannot compete with him, begs to be killed. Grigor keeps him alive anyway.

Night 8

If this were another genre, it'd be the start of a smutty threesome. But it's the hunger games, so two of these men are gonna be dead come tomorrow.

Day 9

And what's this? Grigor Dimitrov has died from thirst. What a way to go though. And Casper Ruud from district 4, killing off his title contender for king of flopping, has won the hunger games! Congrats king, i hope you win a real title soon.

[redcoralpot]

hiii! not sure if your requests are open, if so then can you do a TWD Daryl x Walker male reader?

Like Reader followed Daryl & the group & always pops out time to time & Daryl goes to hunt but sees him just watching the walkers eating someone & Daryl sees him making an expiration of descust shocking Dayrl cuz Reader is a walker? Have a great day & take care off uself ^^

Dead Man Walking - Daryl Dixon X Male (Walker) Reader

I had a lot in mind for this request, so I decided to break it into multiple parts/chapters!! <33 If this series gets popular enough, I will post an extended version on AO3. If you have any questions on how the reader’s infection works, don’t be afraid to ask politely! Xoxo

The romance with Daryl will most likely start next chapter! 🫠

Warnings: Blood, violence, implied cheating (Shane + Lori)

Word Count: 1.8K

Your life from before the outbreak didn’t matter anymore, though it wasn’t like you remembered very much of it. Humanity’s civilization had crumbled within a few mere hours, and you had seen the worst of it. 

     At first, you wandered the streets of the city with plenty of others in your same predicament. That life was lonely, and your comrades never seemed to be good conversationalists. As bad as that was, you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame them. Your mouth felt uncomfortably dry after having no water and a hanging jaw for days. Days! You should be getting paid for this. 

    That all changed after a man disrupted this slow, daily routine, charging on a horse around the wrong corner. Was this how modern cowboys acted? Seriously, maybe the water deprivation was getting to you after all. 

     The mob went crazy at the sight, a sudden change from the prior leisurely pace, attacking the poor animal. You could do nothing, even as your stomach lurched, and you decided to focus your attention on the man instead. He was brave to a stupid extent, sliding under a tank as ravenous arms reached for him. The rush forced you forward too quickly as you stumbled over a bag, hitting the ground with a smack. 

     Everyone else was uncaring, focused solely on the target. You have never seen them from this perspective before, and here, you could see many more bite marks and unhealed injuries. And God, it stunk. You were surprised that anyone could get caught by these people, they could probably smell them before they could even see them! Especially the cowboy under the tank, there, for his age. Would he live, would he die? If you had a partner, you would bet on death. 

    Fate apparently had different plans for him, as he suddenly popped out of the tank, smacking a nearby infected hard enough to give him room to escape. Damn, you definitely didn’t want to get in his way. He struggled down the sidewalk, shooting to safety in a closed off alleyway. Part of you wanted to curiously follow him, but the smarter end told you to stay. 

       “C’mon!” A voice shouted from the alley, followed by gunshots. 

-

     Your name tag swung as you followed a group of survivors. The man and his savior had joined it after the drama on the street, and you were curious enough to see where they would head next. Apparently, that was a survivor camp, not too far away from the city’s borders. It was here that you learned the man’s name was Rick, and he had family there. It baffled you that he even thought of risking himself like that with a child as young as Carl. 

      His family seemed to think the same, running towards him and shouting in surprise. From your little spot yards away, you wondered if your family ever made it, and if they missed you just as much. 

       “Dad!” Carl shouted, and the man himself dropped to his knees to hug him. Was Rick crying?

        You felt a little guilty for staring at such a vulnerable moment, so you turned your eyes onto the other members. They were a plenty, diverse group, bigger than any camp you’ve witnessed before. There was one other kid among the survivors, a little girl, other than Carl. 

         This observation session was quickly shut down, interrupted by a gruff alert, “Walker!”

         A what? You? 

        Whipping your head towards the noise, you came to face a crossbow pointed at your face. Ah. 

        “I got it.”

        Your slow, dead reflexes tried their best as you dived behind a tree, but they weren’t fast enough. An arrow pierced through your shoulder, knocking you off course, and into a bush. Using this as cover, you scampered back farther from the camp, praying that this day wouldn’t be your last. 

        “Daryl! Just leave it.”

        “I ain’t never seen one smart enough to dodge before.”

         “Exactly, don’t waste your ammo.”

         “Pff, would’a gotten my arrows back anyway.”

        The shock from the shot dulled as your head produced a light feeling, making you abandon any thoughts of getting up. You sat there, frozen, as the voices faded away. Well, one of them had been paying attention after all. 

         You gripped the arrow, ripping it out in a smooth motion, biting down on your shirt. The taste of dirt filled your mouth, and while you’ve done this a number of times, you had never expected to perform it on yourself. Red trickled down your shirt, making the hole even more obvious. This Daryl was a great man, amazing even. If you couldn’t have a bath, or any human interaction, you at least deserved a shirt without stains or holes in it. You didn’t have any spares!

         Should you still follow this group? They’re bound to move soon, mobs will start moving out of the city and out among the borders. It was suicide if you did, but you found you didn’t care all that much. The world had ended, you had no family, and nothing to live for. A little fun before you died wouldn’t hurt anyone, you decided. 

         Your body felt heavy as you pulled yourself into a tree, pressing yourself against the bark and peering through the leaves at the camp. Here, it should be safer. Their threats were all on the ground, only hunting will bring them to look in the trees. 

         The same gruff voice reached your ears, “And you just left him?”

        “We had to, we had no choice.”

       “Yeah, well, I’m goin’ back to find him.”

       A pause, “I’ll go with you, we can form a rescue group.”

        “Fine.”

        “I’d like to get my bag back, too; it has supplies.”

         Through your cover, you could see Rick choosing different survivors to come with, and you couldn’t help but feel relieved that one of the sharpest was among them. Now that he and his crossbow are gone, albeit temporarily, you feel a weight come off of your shoulders. 

        Before you could dwindle in that bliss for long, a second group split off, significantly smaller than the other. Just two people, a man and a woman, one you recognized to be the mother of Carl. You shifted, trying to get a better view. 

        “We can’t do this anymore, Shane,” the woman started, “He’s back now.”

       “Rick doesn’t have to know.”

       “He’s your best friend, and don’t forget the only reason I did this was because everyone thought he was dead!”

      These people were lucky you couldn’t talk.

      “Lori—”

      “No, we’re ending this.”

      Shit. As the woman briskly walked back to the main camp, you could still see Shane hadn’t moved. He grumbled incoherent, resentful sentences, and you felt like a rat. You wanted to scream at Rick about what you just witnessed, snitching the very details of the things his wife and best friend had been doing. 

       None of the survivors seemed keen on hearing you out, though, so their secret was safe, for now.

-

      You woke up with a start, hissing as you accidentally banged your head on the wood behind you. Sitting up, you heard feet shuffling below you. Not just a pair, however, it must’ve been at least ten. Was it happening already? The rescue group must have led them back to the camp and knew they were coming, surely. 

        Yelling rang through the camp, snarling and the snapping of teeth almost overpowering it. You could see the fire, shadows of the survivors dancing around it, the moves quick and fearful. An arrow flew, gunshots rang, and you could smell blood. Daryl was back, with the rescue team following close behind. 

         “What happened here?”

        “Walkers, a whole mob of ‘em,” stated a rather stoutly, panting old man. 

         Rick asked another question, “Is everything alright, was anyone hurt?”

        …

        “A few, uh, Amy and Ed, Carol’s husband.”

       You weren’t familiar with this Amy, but you weren’t fond of Ed. You had caught him trying to hit his wife, a sweet woman, while she was doing the laundry earlier. Really, he deserved this fate, but it must be concerning for Carol. It couldn’t be easy to raise a child alone in this environment. 

       A silence fell over the group, a moment of mourning for their first losses. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the fate of the two victims. You knew what would happen, knew it well, as the final shots of the night sounded. 

        “He was bit,” Daryl growled, and with a click, a gun was pointed at him. 

       “We don’t kill the living.”

       “But you can point a gun at me?”

       “You woulda killed him if I didn’t.”

       “What’re we gonna do with him, then? Let ‘em turn?”

       “We have to leave.”

      “There’s nowhere to go, walkers are everywhere!”

     “I know a place, it’s a facility in Druid Hills. If anywhere has a cure, it’d be in there.”

     Shane made a face, “Are we sure ‘bout this?”

    “It’d be protected, a safe place to stay; we can leave in the morning.”

     His tone made it sound final, and his best friend looked unconvinced. Daryl gave the bitten man a final, bitter eye, stomping off to brood alone. As much as the two of you were different, you had to agree with him. The man would only suffer and die in a more brutal way, after all. Alas, the only thing you could do was watch. 

      You watched as the remaining survivors settled into sleep, you watched as Shane grew more agitated, you watched as they packed their things when the sun rose, and you watched them drive away. 

       A few decided to hang back, to go their own way. Silently, you wished them well with the others, and then you watched them leave too. This is where you deemed it safe, sliding down from the tree to slip back onto the ground. With a stick you snapped off, you started your journey to Druid Hills, the bite mark on your left leg aching.  

      And who knows? Maybe they could fix this pesky infection. 

     The signs were still in good shape, and what a blessing they were. You hobbled on, for two days and nights, not catching up to the people of your interest. Halfway through, a familiar face caught your eye, sitting propped under a tree. He gnashed his teeth, eyeing you, clearly not able to get up to reach you. Sighing, you shook your head as you realized what they did. 

      You raised your stick, finally looking down at him with pity, and drove it through his eye. Blood and body residue dropped off the end as you ripped it back out of the unmoving Jim, and you leaned heavily on it again. No matter how exhausted, you continued on your way, determined to be a normal man again. 

-

End of Chapter One.

[eyra]

winning arguments without crying

Three years ago I liked you and now I think you’re hideous That’s really all it is. Crumbling stone above your sink in a houseshare bathroom that feels like an aeroplane toilet. A corona of snakes that couldn’t be saved by a beautiful tragedy. You have to train them, you see To bite beautifully and in a tragic sort of way A literary way You can’t just wash your red hair and let it dry like that. I would know. Mine are revered and I think people are afraid of them but in a beautiful sort of way.

That’s another story that I’m trying to write and I wish I could block you from the pages like I’ll block you on Instagram.

I think you’re hideous A gradual  and then very sudden descent into a cramping hatred like the way you think hot weather is just fantastic and I think the sun is fucking obnoxious Like you A loudly epic microcosm  A study in how to learn to hate a stranger measured by unprecedented times and a handful of afternoons eating  blue cheese and crackers on London grass waiting for the time to pass If nobody likes you and everybody likes me then does that make me awful too? or does it just mean I’m right

You glittered like a mirror for a morning our sisterly reflections in mourning A summer snapshot from the lens I’m still in charge of Now you’re a black hole or something worse probably an empty shell pretending to be a whole person. Boring boring boring Everything about you is boring I’m bored with how boring I find you This poem is boring. It’s boring to talk about you but I can’t stop none of us can stop we’re all awful. You were a mirror and isn’t that funny considering how much you fucking love looking at yourself now Is this fucking play about us? as long as it’s all focused on you Tell us to knock the f-stop back as far as we can until it’s just The You Show again but you’ll say you hate the lens I’m standing behind. Apparently it’s all so condescending of me but I think you just don’t understand what that word means and what you actually mean is I’m older than you and know how to win arguments? What you actually mean is I can fight without shaking and my face doesn’t turn red when I’m angry? and I’ve always thought that a very lucky trait to have I think I probably got that from my dad although he doesn’t really get angry. I think you should write a poem about what you got from your dad But you’ll never do that even if  it’s the easy pick to the door you say someone else bolted you behind screaming. I unpicked mine when I was twenty and I’ll always shoot if someone slags off my closet And you think you’re the gunmaster here

But that’s a totally separate conversation and I can’t be bothered having it with you so can we just move on because you’re too narrow to get that.

The most caring person in the world until empathy starts unearthing your enemies As if you don’t already have a thousand. And none of it feels important anymore so I’m embarrassed that I even care but it’s not a caring sort of caring. If you’re compelled by right and wrong I’m compelled by love and hate I think that’s my coin and one day soon I’ll stop spending it on you But for now I’m solvent Even if I’m letting you steal from me and your steel city state is richer than my ancient woodland but your vaults are beneath iron girders of fantastic and thanks so much and so it becomes a girlish and quietly-biting sort of coin that burns lips and makes everything taste like copper mine is just a mist and then you accuse me of being non-confrontational when actually I’ve always quite liked confrontation.

It’s something I’m good at

and yet you keep trying and honestly I find that mortifying But you’re a child so I don’t even care. Maybe I should swaddle you but you said you're wise beyond your years so I guess let’s go with that? And if everyone hates you and nobody hates me then maybe you should go back to your mirror and look there instead of at your front-facing camera because that’s mortifying too  and you should’ve gone to university because you would’ve met other mirrors there And at least I know I’m a bitch

I met my mirrors ages ago.

But you run from reflection and choose your front-facing camera instead because it does that thing where it flips the image and you get to pretend that you’re the opposite thing to the thing you actually are and you get to tell yourself that you’re so tiny and the world is the Big Bad pecking at your nest. But you’re the awful thing And everything is backwards And everything is mirrored to you And if I saw myself in you then send me the invoice and finish your email with  thanks so much  for teaching me how to be something else because honestly if I became what you already are I think I’d just die  I can see you rolling your eyes on the playground because someone else was enjoying the swings but in a stupid way and the tarmac was hotter in Germany but that doesn’t make you more interesting. God I wish I could tell you that.

I told you once that sometimes I pretend I’m on Graham Norton when I’m in the car I thought everyone did that but apparently they don’t But that’s fine I think and you didn’t need to laugh about it with your fiancée But she's left you too and I found that funny So let’s call it even.

I dive headfirst into the oil when it comes to you because it feels so hotly delicious  To nestle in the anonymous ranks of whatever armies you think you did nothing to provoke You’ve got spears for crutches but your armour is accountancy note paper With lecture notes too boring to comprehend I don’t think you’re actually interested in investment risk and taxation or fraud analytics Is anyone? It’s just something else to put on your brown sash and on your HER profile. Tell them about how you’re on every battlefield and I’m just softly at home writing a stupid poem about you And if you’re reading this now because you keep tabs on everyone and everything and if you were waiting for me Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you. Because I already don’t remember how old you are but I think you get a notification when I post an Instagram story of myself as a child.

I have a pitchy black well of everything that you don’t have and I throw myself into it and you screw your face up lime-sour when actually I think you’d love to build one for yourself  but you can’t stop looking at your Instagram followers for long enough to work out  How to cast bricks or divine water or whatever else you need to build a well

You don’t even have the land for it yet.

I’d rather write a stupid poem than be your blank piece of paper I’d rather write myself as a villain than play your antagonist  Write me out of your boring story I’m begging you. It’s been a year and you’re still looking up how to spell my name  Between notes about investment management and derivatives And I don’t even know what that means Thank God. God it’s so boring But I’m laughing at the idea of one day forgetting your name.

I can be rotten but I think the thing that saves you from Hell is the welcoming of the rot and if I can be this but also sleep with my friends and love my American cereal and the little squares of sun my mirrorballs cast to my blue walls Then what does it matter I don’t think it matters. But you can’t be told about any of that Because you’re too busy romancing your front-facing camera and  one-hundred-and-thirty-three people in fluorescent ceiling panels who won’t ever clap at a volume that fills you So I’ll leave you waiting for your lean applause And I’ll just be lighter.

I watched a video today of my niece on a ride-on lawnmower Grinning with my dad in the field behind our house and that was me twenty-two years ago. God I love that I can love.

[ilguna]

☼ the lakes (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; you can't help dreaming of running away with your muse.

warnings; swearing, mention of violence, derogatory language, and death threats.

wc; 1.6k

notes; this is a songfic. the lakes by taylor swift.

–

As much as you hate to say this, with how everything is going right now, you can’t keep doing this.

There’s nothing that makes you second guess your choice of staying with Finnick more, than going to the Capitol together to mentor every year. You’ll go as a happy couple, without a single issue between you two, only to come home completely miserable, questioning whether or not it’s the right choice to stay together.

They know exactly what they’re doing each time you arrive. It didn’t bother you in the beginning, because you thought that tough skin never wears, but you were wrong. When they’re clawing at the same spot every year, it’s hard not to get sensitive over the topic, even with Finnick.

They’re hoping that you’re going to finally call it quits, and you’re getting close.

You don’t know how Finnick does it anymore. You get that he’s in the Capitol eye all the time, so he’s got experience when it comes to them fucking with him, but you thought that by now, there would be some urge to bite back and push them away. Especially when he sees how upset you get by their comments.

He likes to tell you that you need to stop worrying, and focus on the relationship more, that it’s easier to ignore them when you don’t care. His go-to question is, “What are they going to do about it?” Recently, you’ve been asking him, “What haven’t they done about it?”

You said you get upset by their comments, which is more than just words on the street, which you’ve gotten as well. They started off innocent enough at the start, where they told you to break up with him, you’re not good for him, they like him better single. And it turned worse, when they realized it wasn’t working.

You’re every vulgar name under the sun, apparently. And they own Finnick, which means that you’re not allowed to have him. If you don’t give him up soon, then your entire family’s going to be killed, while you watch. After that, they’ll kill you too, in front of everyone, where they’ll celebrate and throw a festival in Finnick’s honor.

You have received so many death threats, that you don’t bother to leave the Tribute Center without the Capitol escort or the stylists. You know that you’d be safer in numbers, and you stopped bothering to try and get away from that. 

They have smeared your name across every platform possible, picking out every single one of your insecurities, and ensuring that the magazines and newspapers got to you somehow. So that you’d have to see what the latest rumor there is about you inside of the Capitol.

There’s only so much Finnick can do. He had a conversation with Coriolanus, in hopes that he’d get his people under control. It worked for one summer, by the time you came around the following year, it’s like it was a contract that lasted for a single month. You were back to being afraid.

Finnick can’t stop mentoring, per Snow’s rules, and even though you’ve tried dropping out a couple times now, Finnick won’t let you. He wants you to be there with him, because you’re his partner in crime. You’re the person he wants to work with in the Capitol to bring tributes home. He doesn’t want anyone else.

“Come here, baby.” Finnick murmurs, pulling you into his side. He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t let them do this to you again, please.”

“I can’t do it again, Finnick.” You tell him, “I won’t survive another Capitol trip. We won’t survive another trip.”

“It’s not that bad.” He says, you meet his eyes for a few seconds. He’s got his head tilted, mouth pulled into a frown.

“They threw a drink at me this time.” You emphasize, “During their interviews, I had to sit with wine on my dress. How am I supposed to help them when I can’t even go talk to sponsors without ruining their chance? It’s not fair for them!”

Finnick stares at the gravel wordlessly.

“It’ll be one summer, you can take Mags with you. They love her.” You watch his face.

“What happens when you decide you don’t want to do it the year after that? And so on? I’m going to be left alone to deal with those people.” He shakes his head, “You can’t go there without them hating you, and I get eaten alive every night. I don’t like it either, (Y/n). I’m just asking you to suffer with me.”

“They want me dead.” You stop walking, “That’s my safety, babe.”

“I’m sorry.” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “I really am, (Y/n).”

You gather your hair into your hand before tossing it over your shoulder, “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Where are you going?” 

“To clear my head.” You take a step toward him, he holds your jaw still to kiss you. When he pulls away, he gives you a half-smile before turning and walking away, going to Victor’s Village. You watch him go for a few minutes, before you turn to the left, and head straight for the woods.

It’s overgrown, the bushes and grass reach your knees easily. Your fingers brush over the top of the leaves, pulling them away from their position. When you move on, they spring back into place, bouncing from side to side until it eventually settles.

You like it out here. There are times you wish you grew up somewhere with more trees and less water. You’ve gotten lost here a few times, spending whole days wandering back home. The fences that were put up during the Dark Days are pushed back far, likely anticipating that the trees would get cut down and be replaced by houses or factories.

You’re glad that the forest has gone untouched here.

There’s a vague path stomped into the grass, one that you’ve taken before. You have two spots you like to go to, depending on which is closer and how far you want to go into the woods. Every time you come here, you’re upset in some way, and you unintentionally take your anger out on the flourishing plants that conceal you.

You love Finnick, you really do, but you can’t continue to sacrifice your happiness for him. And you are so genuinely afraid that you won’t be able to continue to be with him, if something doesn’t change, soon. The Capitol might treat him harshly at times, but they also praise the ground he walks on. He has no idea just how much you bottle to keep from upsetting him while you’re there.

If it were up to you, you’d leave and never come back. You’ve got nothing to lose, everything that had mattered to you is gone now. Snow took them from you to punish you for saying no to him. Finnick was the only one of the victors who bothered to check up on you after, because he knew what it was like to be isolated like that. 

Finnick is the only person you have left, without him, you’re nothing. You can’t afford to lose him to the Capitol. 

It’d be so easy for you to come out here and disappear, you’re sure that no one important would notice, like the mayor or the peacekeepers. They hardly care that you show up to the reaping each year, it would be Finnick that they’d be looking for.

There’s got to be some place to hide out here, beyond the fence. The trees are tall and thick, creating a dense forest. The leaves provide shade and shelter from the hovercrafts that fly by. There’s wild plants, and animals that you haven’t seen close up in a long time.

The further you go, the harder it would be to find you. 

It would be just you and Finnick, forever. There would be no Capitol, no one following you around with an opinion, trying to pin you down and pull you apart. Every moment could be yours, without someone coming along and ruining it. You could live longer in peace, than in violence.

Those windermere peaks could be a perfect place to cry without someone turning your tears against you. It could be home, instead of some distant fantasy. And you’ll go, but not without Finnick, holding your hand the entire way there. Your future, so close and so far at the same time.

There, the air is crisp and clears your mind. The shade is cooler, you could sit in it for hours. The grass tickles every inch of skin that it can reach. The sun shines brighter, no clouds there to hide it. The birds sing louder, there are no threats to quiet them anymore.

You could be there for years, no one would come to bother you. You’d stay so long that the wisteria would grow right over your bare feet, locking you to the earth for the rest of your life. 

You could finally be who you are without people telling you that you aren’t good enough for him. There’s no one to judge you, as you and your muse sit beside the lake, where all the lovers went to die before you. And you’d live in a small house, you and your family, where roses sprout out of frozen ground because the love you have to give is insurmountable.

You wish you were somewhere other than here.

[ginger-snap-talkin-nonsense]

just out of curiosity what’s your current d&d character like? My friends and I have been throwing around the idea of a wild west setting for a future campaign and I’m very excited.

Hi! Okay, so I play as Benoit Blanchet-formerly known as Wild Willie (the campaign as it was ended last night and any future campaigns down the road that continue Benoit story will be in the aftermath of the main story)

Wild Willie showed up to the starting point of all the characters as mysteriously as everyone else. 3 feet tall, 8 years old, fast as lightning. Willie is a silly little vampire boy with aspirations to become a world renowned cowboy (or at least his vague idea of what a cowboy is)

This is him in the first half of the campaign:

However, Willie like every other character was keeping secrets, and was worse at keeping them than others because 8 years olds who want to be the center of attention aren’t equipped to be mysterious. So it would soon come out that Willie is not his real name, and that he’s actually a young French boy from upper region of Canada. He doesn’t remember much about his family at this point but does remember coming to Canada in the wake of the French colonizing the area.

Then we got to Kinderfanger’s Circus, where Willie reunited with an old friend…William.

Before Wild Willie was setting across the desert at lightning speed, Benoit was an 8 year old kid in the woods, a little too far from where he should be. And when an 8 foot tall man in the middle of the woods decides he needs more workers in his textile mill that won’t age or need pay, suddenly you’re dealing with enslavement in textile mill with some fresh bite mark on your neck, and only another boy you share a patch of floor with to keep you company for a solid decade or century. You don’t wanna remember which.

But as a vampire you find yourself with a power that proves useful to you, and painful to others. You can run. Faster and farther than anyone else, you can run. And you do. Leaving William behind in a hurried panic one night, and running too far and too fast to make it back to him before the adrenaline of escape wears off.

William, still enslaved at a new business venture for old Kinderfanger makes it apparent what you already felt like but tried to suppress: that he sees you as a coward who left your best friend to rot.

So what can you do? You make it up to him by giving the opportunity to kill the bastard who turned you, him, and dozens of other children just like you two. And when Kinderfanger attempts to corral the children with his silver flute Benoit knocks it out of his hand, and William beats it into his skull into his own hands are charred and unusable from holding the silver.

Benoit attempts to put a hand on his friends shoulder while he stabs away at a corpse, hoping to calm him down and stop his friends hurt. William, out of instinct and pain and hurt, slaps Benoit across the face and continues. They do not speak anymore words to each other. William collapses from the pain and a group of children herald him as their savior and hoist him on their shoulders, carrying him off to freedom. Benoit doesn’t stop this, and continues his journey to save a friend captured by an old foe.

The sting of his friends hit doesn’t disappear. He sting of his words and the weight of everything he has done and been through sit on him. He believes no child could possibly feel this kind of pain.

For the first time in 119 years, Benoit ages. He is 14.

He stays with his friends until they find their old foe. And the corpse of their dear friend. Right before that foe plunges a knife into another, and turns to him.

Years ago he ran, guilty and afraid. Here, his body shakes. He feels an inevitability coming. He turns to another party member-one he could’ve almost called a mother

“I’m sorry.”

Benoit Blanchet has run off again. He knows his friends will be fine somehow. He knows he’s needed elsewhere somehow. It doesn’t stop the guilt.

He runs so fast the sand turns to glass and the world feels still. From Mexico, to Canada, where he finally find him slowed down enough to hit a tree. A familiar face picks him off the ground. With one functioning hand, William embraces Benoit. Benoit shudders, and hugs back. There is love. There is pain. There is closeness. There is a distance. It’s fixable. It’ll take a lot of time. Something they both have plenty of.

They were not the only mill like Kinderfangers. There are others, still stuck. Benoit, William, and a group of scared but free vampire children have a job to do.

Benoit doesn’t know what he is. But it’s not a cowboy. At least, right now. But he’s here with William, and he’s got a lot to do while he figures it out.

Worn and beaten, but ready to defend the children he couldn’t before, this is how he stands now:

[kakusboyfriend]

Kit Karyotype

Aliases: Krait, Nekrom

Age: 36-42

Pronouns: he/they/it/she*

(if I feel like it. please dont use it yourself.)

Species: Anguipera Venenata

Height: 1,75m standing, ~70cm on all fours

Alignment: this specific version is Good!

Media: SMTAS, AEMH, TSSM. Tl;dr Marvel Toons

(f/os are sorted by color too! To make things easier :-])

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Skills:

Necrotic venom

Wall climbing

Teleportation

Camouflage/color changing

Extremely precise scent recognition

Thought projection + suggestion/behavior influence. Not exactly hypnosis or mind control, but a strong suggestion that leaves the mind malleable. He's also not a telepath; his only skill is making you hear His thoughts.

Other:

Mediation/negotiation/bargaining

Medicine and caregiving

Planning

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Relationships

Mac Gargan, Sarah (Gargan?), Curt + Martha Connors: romantic

Rhino, Otto Octavius, Quentin Beck, Flint Marko, Adrian Toomes: platonic

Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne, Ultron, Vision, Whirlwind: Eddie Brock, Shocker: it's complicated/undecided

Peter Parker: truce in SMTAS, allies in TSSM

The Avengers: depends on the narrative. Enemies for now.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Since Kit is the only oc I have for Marvel, he has at least 3 different backstories, and I don't have time to write down each one! This is for TSSM only, because it's what I'm focused on at the time of making this! That one is also a bifurcated road, though; this is the non-villain version of it. We'll get to Electro later, promise 💛

Kit is an amnesiac alien that crash landed somewhere in the New York Bay a year before the series kicked up. With no memory of his origins, abilities, or even name, Kit crawls out of the water to seek help on land a few days later.

However, this only served to get him cornered by police since his odd looks were stirring up trouble. Scared, alone, and afraid for his life in a place he didn't know, he lunges at one of the officers, and bites his arm with strength he didn't know he had.

Everyone, Kit included, watches, horrified, as the cop's arm melts away in less than a minute. It's a disgusting mess, and Kit is even more scared now that he knows there's no way they're letting him out alive. Exhausted and desperate, he can only bring himself to curl up and mentally shout for them to leave him alone.

Surprisingly, this seems to work - every officer surrounding him is stunned, frozen in place. Had Kit been graced with more time or a working memory of his powers, he would have definitely taken advantage of the situation to make sure they didn't remember this traumatizing event. Since he had neither at the time, all he did was run off, hoping he wouldn't be followed.

Nothing of interest happened in the following year. There were rumors about a monstrous fish creature circulating now - they called him 'Krait' apparently, some even jokingly referring to the creature as 'Nekrom' if they knew about what happened that night - but Kit's life wasn't interesting because of it. All he did was try to survive in this noisy, unfamiliar world without, living off of weird hiding places and less than pleasant food sources. He did take to calling himself "Krait", though - it sounded familiar enough, and he didn't have anything else.

Eventually, we jump to the night of "Natural Selection", where Kit's hideout for the day is the Reptile House at the nearby zoo. He witnesses the whole lizard mess, of course - and he watches long enough to see the beast transform back into Curt Connors.

As the commotion ends, Kit is struck with an idea to give himself a lead into learning his identity, since he wasn't getting anything alone - he'd seen Curt in the news before, and, as far as he knew, a geneticist was his best bet at discovering the truth about himself. Better yet, a geneticist that was very much not likely to call the cops now, after everything he'd done.

Kit hangs around the campus in secret from then on - having rediscovered his camouflage and wall climbing abilities in the meantime, he puts them to good use - and waits out for a night where Curt enters the lab alone. One person was easier to convince - besides, however horrible it made Kit feel for doing things this way, Curt's guilt was the only somewhat solid footing he had in this situation, and he was banking on it for his own safety.

The rain is pouring as Curt hurries into the lab because he forgot something, doesn't matter what. Unbeknownst to him, Kit is already in the room, and plans to keep him there until he complies with his terms - he's desperate.

The doors are locked and the lights suddenly go out. Curt isn't really alarmed - not until he notices there's a person in the lab with him. He's ready to fight for his life, if he has to - he was in the military, after all.

But before Kit can say anything, a particularly deafening thunder surrounds them, making the windows shake hard enough that they seemed close to shattering. Kit let's out a loud yelp, and scurries under the nearest table, trembling.

This lessens Curt's apprehension - it's hard to be scared of someone who's afraid of something your son got over his fear of years ago - and he turns the lights back on. Not willing to leave whoever it might be in his lab alone, he approaches the table he saw them hide under - carefully, of course.

And, well. That's how they meet! Kit does end up talking it out with Curt, and they come to an agreement since it's hard to turn down the offer to study something you'd never seen before, even harder if you know they might not be from your planet. Over the months, Curt, Martha and Kit get closer as they work together to figure out Kit's origins, and since Kit has nowhere to go and doesn't know anyone else, he mostly sticks with them one way or another.

Ik this ending is a bit abrupt but I don't wanna keep u here even longer ^^;;

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Notes

Before recovering his memories, Kit is terrible at fighting. His expertise is manipulating people and situations so things go his way.

Because I don't care for making more than 1 Marvel oc, Kit's story is all over the place. Seems to me like his basis of operations is New York no matter what, though. Also, the TSSM one is more interesting to me atm, bc I get to explore a Kit that had the privilege of being treated with kindness and patience.

Kit also knows who Spider Man is, and this makes some things complicated while simplifying others. If Peter wants to, he can get his internship back without exposing his identity, no problem. But he feels insanely uneasy when he bonds with the symbiote, for reasons he can't pin down...

He'll get his memories back, eventually! He's very eager to tell Billy (and everyone else, but he really does love this kid too) everything he knows and all the planets he's been to :)! The truth is that Kit has a little bit more in the works, but I'll wait till I finish the series to write more!

[dreams-of-cerulean]

Well, we’re out of the dining hall at the very least. I’m sorta out of commission for the moment. The process of getting out of the dining ended up breaking the Nihil Bat, and doing that has done a number on my abilities. What's also confirmed is that Lils has one heck of a swinging arm when she wants to, and people should be grateful that she doesn’t have my temperament.  

Anyway to recap what’s going on, that monk Dong He came to a conclusion that the ghost won’t let us out unless all of the rotten food on the dining hall table was eaten: yes, every rotting egg, meat, and vegetable. As if to confirm what he said, an open door manifested at the very end of the hall. A bunch of the crowd rushed over to try and get out, only to find that the door closing shut on them.

Some people tried kicking the door open to no avail. Others tried to use the chairs and lampposts in the room to force it open. I even had a go at it with my bat to no effect. Only thing that somewhat worked was when Lils swung with one of the wooden chairs, but the chair exploded into shrapnel when it collided. The door did have a visible dent, but it quickly healed over which just made everyone else despair.

Finally the police officer Amos shot at the lock twice to no effect, all the while keeping an eye on the other person with a gun Robert. Probably afraid that the guy would shoot him in the back. 

Now the question became who was going to eat the food, and that’s when things turned...interesting. Divided amongst sixty or so people, that would mean everyone would be forced to get two or three bitefuls. It... probably would’ve been survivable in the short term, maybe - I’m not a doctor. In any case, too many people didn’t want to play ball. 

Most of the people complained and absolutely refused to eat it, saying that this is no different from wanting their lives. Some tried to bribe others with money if they got out of here if they ate their share. A lot of excuses were banded about: health conditions, sanitary reasons, too rich to be able to stomach some unhealthiness - get the lesser people to eat it, etc. The people from the gun-totting factions were heavily hinting to make the others eat the bad food. 

As if by unspoken agreement, the gun-totting cop Amos and other gun-totting biker guy Robert pointed their weapons at the people outside their factions and started threatening people to start eating. One of the people objected and started screaming about how the cop should show a good example, and the cop pointed the gun at him, saying “This is for the greater good. I’m the only one who has the power to keep order. All of you have to eat or I’ll have no choice but to shoot you.” 

Screw you and your kryffin power fantasy.

Anyway, what’s bad was that the way we were split up, there was a bit of distance to cover between us at the door and the other people further back in the room. I’m fast, but I can’t outspeed a bullet. And though I can dodge small arms fire, that’s only extremely up close where I could avoid being lined up with the gun barrel. Kinesis is also short-ranged, and they’re probably not stupid enough to let me casually close in on them - they know that the gun in their hands is their only advantage over everyone else. Meanwhile, Sasha could probably shock them all to death, but she’ll probably run afoul of the Taboo unless she kills all the witnesses at the same time. We were both silently analyzing how to fight, but a cooler head prevailed.

Mirielle suggested to everyone in the dining hall that we wanted to try breaking the door one last time, except Lils would be using something a lot more sturdier - my bat. I think the only reason why those two assholes accepted is because it’s win-win for them; either we break down the door or we’re down another weapon if we fail. 

Giving Lils my bat, I used Kinesis to make the bat as sturdy as possible. And then Lils swung... and that’s the last thing I knew for a while. Apparently, having part of the bat pulverized while using my powers on it caused me to faint from the mental feedback. 

From what I was told, Mirielle got our group to run while everyone was still shocked and surprised, not willing to be threatened any longer. Two other people followed us, a Matt and a Rachel, sorta begging Mirielle to let them come along. Which brings us to now. It’s probably been around two hours since we’ve arrived. But this post is getting long, and I need a catnap. So I’ll update later. 

We’re doing fine. 

[depressed-sock]

A curiosity, a wonder, and yet static in existence.

Chapter 3

Part 1 | Part 2 |

The words of the plan are simple. Observe, replicate, and infiltrate. After all, if it can be an elf why can it not also be someone else? The actions in order to achieve that desired result? Much more complicated than it realized.

It pushes against its skin. Tries to shape it in a way that it has not tried before. All it results in is tingles that run across its nerve ending like someone has shot lightning at it. Mira frowns at its fingers. Curling each one so that they crack unpleasantly.

All this effort for what?

For a chance to make a new experience? Or to make a friend happy?

The scout Tahane had gotten onto the rotation headed for the Winter Palace. She had wanted Mira to be there but Mira is not allowed to go.

Well, it is pretty sure it is not allowed to go considering Leliana would not want it anywhere near people. Especially nobles. Apparently, it has an attitude problem because it bit one of the puffed-up snooty ones that insulted one of the other elven agents.

‘Biting is not an acceptable way to show displeasure,’ the ambassador had scolded it. Which is unfortunate because it liked the way the noble screeched in terror at the discovery that they could in fact be hurt. It thinks that the agent also very much enjoyed the results. And isn't that the part that's supposed to count?

Yes. But everyone else is too stupid to understand that.

Except for Tahane and the elf agent. They get it. It should really try to learn that agent's name, it’s polite to know who your co-conspirators are.

Anyway. Can’t go as Mira but it can go as someone else.

“I don’t understand, weren't we talking about sweets?” Cole who was once a spirit of compassion asks. And immediately frowns in displeasure, “I am still a spirit.”

He is no more a spirit than it is.

“But you are a spirit.”

It is not. The same way it is not an elf or Cole is a human. It is a Mira and Cole is a Cole. There is no singular coin to flip, to put either of them on, to define them as spirit or demon or elf or human. Because they are now a pile of coins with many aspects.

To take away a coin is to make them less than what they are now. The same goes for if they just melt the pile into one giant coin. It makes them less to become defined as a singular thing.

Cole scrunches his face, confusion growing with each second of this conversation. “Why coins?"

It sighs leaning against the railing and looking down on all the people who gather below. It does not like the taste of alcohol but it does enjoy the way it changes people. Showing you glimpses of an entirely different being hidden beneath the layers and layers that make them people in the first place.

Playing games together. Gambling together.

It really wants to go gamble. Even though it has no money left.

"Lost coins, lost in thought. No string to secure a connection.” Cole squints his eyes before shaking his head. “Why Varric?"

The dwarf cheats. Its eyes narrow on one of the tables below. On the Qunari who lets out a laugh that rumbles through the wood. Isn't his group of Chargers going as back up to the Winter Palace?

"Yes. Why do you care? Is this about the sweets?" Cole walks up next to it. Leaning slightly to peer over the edge

It nods, “I need to get into the Winter Palace rotation with my friends.”

Cole tilts his head, “Need?”

It frowns and glances back at Cole, “Want.”

Understanding dawns on the not spirit. He lets out a big sigh, “Stop that.” No. The not spirit sighs and shifts to lean against the railing right next to it. “You can't go with the other agents?”

“I am a biting hazard.” Her words, not its.

Cole tilts his head, "Fear clinging to parts of it pushed down deep. Afraid to be seen, afraid to be known. But at the same time, it craves. Its hunger is ravenous." He pauses for a moment. "You should speak to the Iron Bull."

"I don't want to." It makes a face. The Iron Bull would not like it. Too freaky. It understands that. It knows that sometimes it even scares its friends. It does not like that.

"Tall, their presence overpowering and unignorable. A mystery to be solved. But she prefers to think of it as a friend being made. She likes you just the way you are."

It pouts. It knows that. It does! Stop it.

The Cole who was once a spirit ignores Mira. Attention drawn back to gathering below them. "Ask the Inquisitor to let you go then." He whispers before he pushes off the railing and walks away. No magical poof and suddenly gone because Mira's mind is not like the beings of this realm. It can understand the things that happen around it.

Just like Cole would see and hear as each of its fingers cracked and bent and twisted like every bone in its body does as it takes the form of a cat. Fur sprouting from skin until the only thing that people see is the small orange cat that bounds down the steps and out the door.

It is not going anywhere near the Inquisitor. Or any of the other people they drag along.

Especially the Elvhen who keeps looking like he wants to lecture it.

[luminnara]

Omega Depression || Alpha!Kiribaku x Omega!fem!reader

Hi! Can I request an alpha!Kiribaku x omega!fem!reader where she is strong on the outside, but sensitive on the inside. Then, some asshole alpha comes and insults her saying that she isn't worthy of having alphas and other super mean stuff that makes her go to omega depression. After that, she confines and isolates herself in her room, not allowing her alphas to enter. Days pass, she misses school for like a week, and her alphas are tired of waiting, so they bust the door and find their omega deep in omega depression and starving herself, and they're super worried and try to help her get out of it, cause she could die if not. The rest can be little angst with a fluffy happy ending!

Yo I live for alpha kiribaku, not gonna lie

Warnings: angst, mental health stuff, depression, eating disorder/starvation stuff, abo

Requests are open!

You were always happy with your alphas. Bakugou and Kirishima were the loves of your life, you were sure of it. The three of you got along well, and there was nothing you enjoyed more than spending time with your boys. You kept up with them easily, never having trouble when it came to handling Katsuki’s temper or Eijiro’s enthusiasm. They loved protecting you, too, not that you ever really seemed to need it; you were tough as nails, as far as everyone was concerned. 

You weren’t, though, not really. 

“What a useless little omega.”

The words kept repeating in your head, over and over.

“Two alphas? Yeah, right. You don’t even deserve one, not with an uppity attitude like that.”

They kept echoing, no matter what you tried to do. 

“What a stupid bitch. They should just leave your sorry ass. You aren’t worthy of anyone, much less alphas.”

You curled in on yourself. You felt sick to your stomach. How could someone say that about you? How could a shitty alpha go and ruin your mood, and your day, by saying something so awful?

“I am worthy!” You had argued. “And we’re happy together, so just fuck off.”

“Oh yeah? Then why haven’t they claimed you yet?” His lips had pulled over his teeth in a sick grin. “You know they’re just biding their time, waiting for something better to come along. You’re nothing to them.”

The little spat had been earlier that morning. It was rare that you ever went out alone; usually Eijirou or Katsuki or both of them were stuck to you like glue, but this had been one of those instances when you had absolutely insisted you would be fine. After all, you were just running a couple errands. You weren’t even going very far from campus. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?

Well...this, apparently.

You had rejected the advances of an alpha who had been eyeing you for quite some time. He was annoying and his scent always made you recoil, but you would never, not in a million years, have thought that he could hurt you so deeply.

Why were his words even bothering you so much? You knew your boys liked you. They made sure to constantly cover you in their scents, they happily gave up their shirts for you to tuck into your little bed nest, they held your hands and gave you sweet little kisses...

And yet, he was right. They hadn’t claimed you yet. There were no big bite marks on your neck to show the world that you were taken. Why hadn’t it happened yet? You always thought that maybe they were just nervous, and they wanted to wait for the right time. Maybe they wanted to wait until school was over and they were better established as heroes.

Or maybe they were just playing with you, maybe you were nothing more than their favorite toy for the time being. What if they got tired of you? What if they really were planning on kicking you to the curb? Without a bond mark, nobody would even blink if they cast you aside. It would just be a normal break up, nothing for anybody else to even care about or get involved in.

But your heart was already aching at the thought of it.

You huddled up in your nest, ugly sobs wracking your body as you clutched one of Katsuki’s hoodies to your chest. An undershirt of Eijirou’s was nearby, a few plushies that they had given you tucked in amongst the blankets and pillows. The scents of burnt sugar and cinnamon wafted around you, and as comforting as they usually were, they weren’t helping you now. Nothing was.

You heard your phone vibrate, but you didn’t reach for it. You didn’t care. You were too wrapped up in your own thoughts, absolutely trapped in your head now. You were plagued by those same words as they kept repeating, telling you over and over that you were worthless, useless, nothing.

When you finally managed to glance at your phone, you had missed texts from both your alphas. You replied to them with a couple of half hearted “yeah, I’m fine” -s, then finally slithered out of bed to make sure your door was locked. You didn’t want to face them when they came to bother you.

If they came.

You spent the entire day like that. When you were out of tears to cry, you just grew numb. It was the worst you had ever felt, and while some part of you knew, deep down, that you needed your alphas to come help you, you couldn’t stand the idea of them seeing you like this. How had you managed to grow so afraid? You usually told them everything, but now...now you abhorred the thought.

“Oi!” Katsuki’s rough voice came from the other side of your door, his scent wafting in. “Open up!”

You didn’t answer, curling in on yourself even further instead. 

“Omega!” he called angrily. “Stop ignoring me, dammit!”

“Go away!” you managed to squeeze out, your voice sounding weak and strangled. 

He was silent for a moment, his scent changing. It grew more burnt-smelling as his anger mounted, and as it reached your nose, you felt panic and annoyance spiking in your chest. 

“Omega,” he growled, voice low. You heard the doorknob jiggling as he tried to get in, but you had locked the deadbolt, and unless he unleashed his quirk right there in the dorms, there was no way he was entering your room.

“I said go away!” you yelled. 

On the other side of the door, Katsuki was fuming. The beginning sparks of little explosions were popping around his hands, and if Eijirou wasn’t there to hold his arms down at his sides, there was a good chance he would have done some real damage to the hallway. 

“Katsuki, c’mon.” the larger alpha said. “Let’s just leave her alone for a little.”

“Something’s wrong,” Katsuki pulled back as his partner started trying to drag him away. “She stinks.”

“Yeah, she definitely doesn’t smell happy,” Kirishima paused, frowning. “But...we need to give her the space, if she wants it.”

“Fuck that,” his partner spat. 

“Katsuki....” Eijirou sighed. 

Bakugou’s nostrils flared angrily for a moment, red eyes wild as Kirishima grabbed his arm once again. Someone was trying to drag him away from his omega, from his perfect little mate, and if it had been anyone other than Eijirou, he would have done far worse than simply dig his heels into the floor and growl in protest. Kirishima was right, though; if their omega wanted alone time, they couldn’t just barge in without permission. As much as it hurt both boys, as desperate as they were to get to you and make you feel better, they weren’t total animals. They respected you, and prided themselves on being two big, capable alphas who listened to their omega. 

They returned to their own rooms, expecting to at least hear from you within an hour or two. 

Hours turned to days. 

You texted them a few times, listless, half-assed messages that did little to reassure them. You would send a pathetic I’m fine or a It’s okay here and there, only after they had both blown your phone up for a few hours. It was the only reason they hadn’t tried to tear your door off its hinges; they knew you were alive, at least. But by the third day, Katsuki was beside himself, and even Eijirou was getting upset enough to consider using his quirk to get to you. 

You wished that he would. You didn’t want to face them, but at the same time, the fact that they weren’t tearing the building apart to reach you was making you even sadder. Your sad scent was starting to leech out into the rest of the dorms, and by the end of the fifth day, nobody could stop your alphas. 

“Oy!” Bakugou snarled, his fist thudding against your door. “Open up, omega!”

You didn’t answer, too weak and listless to bother. 

“Babe?” Kirishima asked, his voice strained with the effort of not yelling in panic. 

“We know you’re in there,” Katsuki growled. “Quit avoiding us!”

Still, you didn’t answer. 

Then, you could hear some shuffling, and the door was being torn off its hinges by Kirishima. Bakugou stormed in as soon as the path was clear, his red eyes blazing with anger, his hands balled into fists.

“You’d better show your face right fuckin’ now, or I swear I—“

He fell silent at the sight of you. His eyes widened, his nostrils flaring. Your scent was so strong and so incredibly miserable that a wave of nausea passed through him. He hadn’t expected that it would be so pungent in your room, and as he covered his mouth and nose with his hand, he rushed towards you.

“Baby,” he cooed, vaguely aware of Kirishima behind him, “what the fuck is going on?”

You tried to bury yourself in your nest, trying to burrow away from the world, but a big hand caught you around the middle and pulled you back out. Eijirou manhandled you easily, his eyes wide with concern as he sat on the floor and placed you in his lap.

“You haven’t been eating,” he observed, looking at your tired eyes. “Or sleeping.”

Katsuki was beside himself with worry. He was immediately sitting in front of his boyfriend, caging you in between them as he began looking you over. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

You didn’t want to tell them. Your throat was sore from crying, and you felt stupid for being so upset. So, you did the only logical thing you could think of and buried your face in Kirishima’s broad chest, clinging to his shirt weakly.

“Omega, please,” the big redhead pleaded, leaning his head down to scent you. “Tell us.”

You shook your head.

“We know Somethin’ is wrong, so spit it out!” Katsuki barked.

His voice was harsh, but you felt a warm, gentle hand on your back that could only be his. The familiar touch made you sigh, and after a shuddery breath, the dam finally broke.

“Th-there was an alpha,” you whimpered, voice muffled by Kirishima.

“What the fuck did they do?” Katsuki growled, his voice deep and savage. It sent a chill down your spine and you whined, clinging to Eijirou for dear life.

“Cut it out,” Kirishima snapped, snorting at his boyfriend angrily. “You’re making it worse.”

“I just wanna know what happened!” He grumbled, his hand pressing into your back.

You hiccuped as a little sob wracked your body. “A-an alpha I rejected, h-he told me…he told me that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

The low rumble in Kirishima’s chest was like nothing you had ever felt before. It was threatening and powerful, putting Bakugou’s growl a moment ago to shame. His arms tightened around you, the scent gland on his neck slipping over your hair as he tried to cover up your unhappy omega stink.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Kirishima snarled, uncharacteristically angry.

“Hey.” Bakugou slipped a hand around your waist, prying you away from the other alpha slightly. “Look at me.”

You faced him with teary eyes, and when you tried to shy away, he took your chin in his fingers. 

“We fuckin’ love you. Okay? I don’t say it much. Maybe I should say it more. But it’s true, ‘n no stupid, two-bit, shitty-ass alpha knows anything about the three of us.”

He leaned forward, pushing you back up against Kirishima with his head resting on your shoulder. You finally sighed, surrounded by the scents of your alphas, allowing yourself to relax as the dam broke and your crying started all over again. This time, though, it was freeing, and as your alphas rocked back and forth with you, you felt the dread and the anxiety slowly leaving your stomach. 

“Better?” Eijirou asked after a while. 

“A little.” you said, voice muffled by his tear-stained shirt. 

“Good.” Katsuki said gruffly, pulling you up to stand. “Let’s go get some food in you. Point that shitbag out if you see him...I wanna have a few words.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Affair (To Hide the Real Affair)

Read on AO3

Rex, in trying to cover for General Skywalker, accidentally implies to High General Kenobi that he is in an affair with Senator Amidala. He is then asked to continue the ruse, and paid for the lies with very fancy seafood.

My final and VERY belated fic for @rexwalkerweek

August 7th: Umbara || Form VII: Self-Awareness, Risk and Reward, Secrecy

Originally brainstormed on tumblr here and here.

--------------------------------------

It starts with an easy question.

“Captain Rex? Have you seen Anakin?”

Yes. He has. He has also been told to not let General Kenobi what’s going on, at all. Cody’s here, too; this means Rex is being silently judged by his older brother, and not just his superior officer.

“I’m afraid he’s been a little… preoccupied, sir,” Rex says.

“Ah, preoccupied,” General Kenobi repeats, seeming far too amused. Rex reminds himself that he cannot, actually, lie to a Jedi. Not well.

“He’s, uh, on a call.”

“On a call, I see.”

Rex does not conspicuously and awkwardly shift his weight. He kind of wants to.

“With whom?”

“I, uh—” Rex casts about for an answer, “a friend.”

Hells. He had a plan for this, he did, but all the words are gone from his head.

“Do I get to know which friend?” General Kenobi prompts.

“One of mine,” Rex says.

It’s sort of true, but… what? Why did he say that? Even Cody is judging him.

“Ah,” General Kenobi says. The amusement is showing in full force. “I see. Is this friend another clone?”

“No,” Rex says.

“Have I met them?”

Rex shifts awkwardly, and looks away. He definitely doesn’t want to help narrow down the plane of possible friends that much. Cody is watching him with no expression, which Rex knows in this case means that Cody’s laughing at him on the inside.

General Kenobi seems to be enjoying this. Rex feels bullied.

Kenobi, apparently having decided this is a ‘little brothers’ topic, not an official one, keeps going. “What about the topic? Why is Anakin speaking with a friend of yours?”

He panics and grasps and—

“Personal matters,” Rex blurts out. His heart beats like a hummingbird in shame. That was the most suspicious answer possible, and everyone here knows it.

“Ah,” Kenobi says, still clearly biting back laughter. “I see.”

Well, clearly to Rex. He’s not sure if anyone else would know, but Rex has spent way too much time around guys who try their hardest to keep a perfect Sabacc face at all hours to not be able to tell.

“What’s it about, Rex?” Cody asks. “Why’s the General talking to one of your friends on a personal matter?”

Cody has decided it’s a day to make Rex’s life harder. Bastard. Rex thinks it might be time to revisit some classic cadet pranks.

What’s it about, Rex?

“I—” Rex flounders. He casts about, stress rising, and meets General Kenobi’s eyes, “that’s not—I mean—”

“Your loyalty to Anakin is commendable,” General Kenobi says, in that gentle way that’s meant to be comforting but mostly just feels embarrassing as all hells. “But unnecessary. If he’s on the line with Padmé again—”

“It’s not about him!” Rex protests.

Kenobi’s expression is almost pitying. “Captain, I assure you, there will be no consequences for you or Anakin if he’s—”

“Please don’t go in,” Rex begs. “I promise it’s not something you need to—Cody, don’t!”

Cody pauses, hand almost on the doorknob. His head tilts, and Rex may not be able to see his face, but he can guess the expression.

Kenobi looks between them. He focuses on Rex again. “Captain? Are you quite alright?”

No, because now he’s blushing, and it’s stupid.

“Cody’s not allowed in,” he says. “It’s not anyone’s business but—I mean—please don’t go in there.”

They’re both staring at him, now.

“Why am I not allowed in?” Cody asks, almost carefully.

“I’m getting the feeling that he’s trying to say that it’s not my business,” General Kenobi says slowly, “but that it is your business, and he doesn’t want you finding out about.”

“Personal matters,” Cody says, meeting his eyes, “and a friend, but not a brother.”

Rex sweats.

Cody and Kenobi stare at each other for a few long moments, and then Cody turns and asks, “Rex, are you dating someone?”

“Wh—no!” Rex nearly squeaks. “I’m not dating someone. Anyone. I’m not dating anyone.”

“Sounds like denial to me,” Kenobi says. Rex wonders how, considering it’s actually true. “And your love life is certainly none of my business, but that status of it is, arguably, business of Cody’s.”

Kark it all.

“But why does Skywalker get to talk to whoever it is?” Cody wonders aloud. “Especially without you in there to—”

Kenobi smacks a fist into his own palm. “Shovel talk.”

Rex is going to die.

“Shovel talk,” Cody repeats, rolling the idea around. “Skywalker giving Rex’s partner a shovel talk?”

“Or the good captain has found interest in my former padawan despite fraternization rules, and the non-clone friend is now giving Anakin a shovel talk,” Kenobi says. “But I imagine I would have noticed if Anakin was in love with someone new. He’s not particularly subtle.”

“It’s been a fair few months since you’ve seen him in person,” Cody says.

“But I have seen him around Rex in the last few days,” Kenobi points out. “If they were in a relationship, I would have noticed, even if it’s no longer the honeymoon stage.”

Unsaid: because for Skywalker, it is always the honeymoon stage.

“So Rex is dating someone, and Skywalker knows who it is, and they don’t want me to know,” Cody decides. He pins Rex with a gaze like… something. Rex isn’t feeling very metaphorical today. “Are we close?”

No. No, they are not.

Rex doesn’t answer. He does not want to dig this hole any deeper than it’s already been dug.

Cody makes a decision and, before Rex can entirely process it, is opening the door.

“—taking care of him, Ani. I promise.”

Rex presses a hand to his face.

He has failed his General, and somehow he still feels like he needs to be paid for emotional damages. Yeah, he didn’t fulfill the request, but this entire situation is somehow ten times worse for Rex than it is for General Skywalker.

(Continue on AO3)

[twistedisciple]

"You got that right. Lady Veyle and the Divine Dragon are still the only two that our Lord Sombron let live." Griss trailed behind Zephia as they returned to her classroom, matching her invisible prints almost perfectly with his own steps until some forgotten slip of paper distracted him and he broke away to investigate. He ambled leisurely between the chairs until he reached the far end of one table and snatched up the scrap, squinted at the equation scribbled from edge to edge, and then tossed it over his shoulder as he slumped down into the chair that belonged to whoever had left it. He kicked his feet onto the desk and leaned back precariously, arms hanging on either side.

What would it have been like had he gone to school, like everyone else in Elusia? He looked up at Zephia behind her podium, and although he thought such a position, where she could cast her judgement down from on high, suited her, there were too many things between them - the podium, tables, chairs, even books that would just get in the way whenever she needed to mete out well-deserved punishment. Still, he remained there, rocking back and forth for the sheer novelty of the sensation, as he rattled off the requested report like he'd prepared it well in advance, not in the split second after he had recognized the mage dragon across the courtyard.

"Lord Rafal and Lady Nel are the other two. Twins from another version of Elyos. Lord Sombron died there, too, but Lord Rafal succeeded him. Both of 'em look and act more like fell dragons than Lady Veyle ever did, so I've been following 'em around since I got here. But now that you're here, I'll let you be the judge."

Puzzlingly, dread coiled around his throat before he could speak any more, accompanied by the fleeting thought that Zephia would not approve of either of them. But with the fluidity of habit, he bumped his wrist against the leg of the chair and forced the cilice he wore to bite into his skin. The stabbing pain eclipsed all else and released his voice again.

"Lord Rafal's an axe instructor for the Black Eagles. He might look kinda flimsy on the outside, but he nearly broke my jaw." With his other hand, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, grinning and searching Zephia's face for a sign of endorsement. "Lady Nel's quieter, and she's part of some secret house you can't ordinarily find around the monastery. Ashen Wolves or something like that. She's got the decisiveness of someone who isn't afraid to kill if it'll get her what she wants." He decided to leave out that what she wanted was kind of boring most of the time though; that would be for Zephia to determine.

"Oh, but--" Griss sat up suddenly and leaned forward, elbows on the table now. "--both of 'em talk about having this group of knights called the Four Winds. Apparently we got lookalikes in their world."

Welcome Home [Griss & Zephia]

continued from here

[acewithapaintbrush]

Here is my "El Raton Perez" One-shot. For everyone who did not see the post: apparently in Colombia the tooth fairy is a mouse (sometimes a rat!). I saw that, had a desperate need for more cute Bruno and Antonio interaction, and here we are. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's happening. It's really happening. 

Antonio clutches the blanket tight to his chest. The spot in his mouth where his tooth is missing still aches a little, but that pain was pretty much forgotten the moment he heard the little squeaks coming from under his bed. 

When Mirabel had pulled a crying Antonio into her lap and had told him about El Raton Perez, the little boy with one tooth missing had immediately believed her. If there is anything he knows for sure, it's that his favorite prima would never lie to him. 

Mirabel is nice. The nicest! She sometimes teases, but only in a funny way. Not like Camilo, who is also nice and funny, but whose jokes sometimes are only funny for himself. 

Antonio believes Mirabel, he really does, but a rat that takes your tooth home and gives you money in return also kinda sounds too good to be true.

Well, El Raton Perez will probably bring Antonio candy, since money has long since lost its value here in the Encanto. But even better! The old coins Abuela sometimes gives Antonio so he can play with them are nice to look at and they make funny noises when you shake them in your fist, but Antonio usually gets bored of them rather quickly. 

Candy is much better. 

"Some think El Raton Perez is a mouse and some think he's a rat." Mirabel had told him just that afternoon. "I think it's a rat here in Encanto. We have a lot of rats, don't you think?" 

While Antonio had believed her, he'd thought that she may have been… what does his Papi always call it? Bamboozled. Tricked. 

Mira is the best, but she always thinks the best of everyone else as well. If someone had told her a lie about El Raton Perez, she would have believed them. She is not as mature as Antonio, with his four and a half years. That's why he has to look out for her. Like a big boy! 

But she was telling the truth! There is definitely a rat under his bed. 

The room is dark and he is alone in the nursery. Tia Julieta has forced Mira to have a sleepover with Isabela and Luisa to "strengthen their sisterly bonds.". 

Whatever that means, Mira hadn't seemed too happy about it, which is weird. Antonio loves his monthly sleepovers with Camilo. His older brother always declares that they will stay up all night, only to be the first one to fall asleep every time. It's always really funny. 

Antonio has no problems sleeping alone from time to time. Casita always watches over them, so there is nothing to be afraid of. But no matter his initial excitement about El Raton Perez, the scratching and squeaking from under his bed are a bit scary in the dark. 

He wants to see Senor Perez, but at the same time he kinda wishes the rat would hurry up and leave. 

Suddenly there is a weird sound outside his room. Some kind of hissing sound. Antonio bites his lips and pulls the cover higher up so only his eyes peek out. He wonders if he should call out for his Mama, when Casita opens his door a little. 

The hissing, which Antonio now realizes hadn't actually been hissing, but a voice going "psst psst psst" immediately stops. 

"He's in there, Casita?" 

Antonio doesn't recognize the voice, but Casita swings his door a little as if she's nodding. Whoever it is, Casita knows him. Antonio immediately relaxes. Casita loves them a lot. She would never let any harm come to them. 

"Miercoles." The voice mutters. After a short pause, someone creeps into the room. It's a man wearing a ruana with the hood up. Antonio can't see his face, only the mouth, which is pressed into a thin, displeased line. The stranger peeks at Mira's bed and then turns to Antonio's side of the room. The little boy closes his eyes and pretends to sleep. After a few seconds, Antonio can hear the man kneel down on the floor. He reopens his eyes into slits and observes the man pressing his cheek against the floor to peer under Antonio's bed. He looks kinda small and scrawny and Casita still doesn't ring any alarms, so he must be okay. 

Antonio sits up silently and leans over the side of his bed to get a better look. The man doesn't notice. 

"Pssst. Perry." The man whispers. "Bad rat, get out of there! I told you guys a million times that you are not allowed in the kids rooms." 

A big, grey rat shimmies out from under Antonio's bed. The man sits up and the rat jumps on his lap. He is frowning down at it and pokes it in the side. Antonio's curious eyes still go unnoticed. 

"No cheese for you for a week, young man." 

The rat squeaks sadly and Antonio can't take it anymore. 

"Oh, please no! He only wanted my tooth." 

The man almost jumps out of his skin. He scrambles backwards, still sitting on the floor, limbs flying everywhere. It looks so funny and Antonio can't help but giggle when the man bumps into the dresser and hits his head on it with a quiet "Ay!" 

Mama would scold him for laughing, but Mama is not here. 

The man clutches his heart and his breathing sounds ragged. "Dios Mio! Don't do that!" 

"Sorry." 

The hood is still obscuring the face, but Antonio can't help but think that something about the stranger looks familiar. 

"Who are you?" 

The man freezes. Mira always praises him for his instincts and empathy. Antonio thinks that the man looks scared. 

"I… Uhm…"

The rat squeaks again. It had held on to the ruana during the man's mad backwards scramble and is now climbing onto a narrow shoulder. Antonio looks at it, then at the man, then back at the rat. 

"Oh! Are you El Raton Perez's helper?" Mira hadn't said anything about a helper, but who else could the man be? 

"Am I… Huh?" 

"His helper!" Antonio pulls the tooth out from under his pillow and shows it off. "My tooth fell out. El Raton Perez came to get it."

The man slowly stands up. He hunches in on himself and steps closer to Antonio's bed. Maybe Antonio should feel intimidated by a stranger standing over him in the middle of the night, but the man is so careful, so hesitant. He supports the rat very tenderly while he walks and strokes a single finger over its little head. Something about the man makes Antonio trust him immediately. 

"Your first tooth already? Time flies, huh?" He sounds wistful and sad as he stares at the tooth in Antonio's palm. Antonio didn't mean to make him sad. 

But then the man seems to shake himself out of his sad mood and puts his hands on his hips. "But uhm, yeah! Exactly. I'm El Raton Perez's little helper. Good job figuring that out, Antonio." 

The little boy gasps. "You know my name?" 

"Oh well, of course. I.. I am his helper. I need to know our clients." 

"But why does he need a helper?" 

"He is very small. He can't open doors very well on his own. And someone needs to carry the teeth for him." 

"Oh…that makes sense." Antonio holds out his own tooth. "Here!" 

The man holds up his hands and shakes his head. "Oh no, I can't."

"But that's why you are here." 

"I… darn it." He slaps his own forehead. The hood shifts a little and just for a second Antonio can see green, kind eyes, before nervous hands pull it back down again. "I forgot the candy. Sorry." 

Antonio lowers his hand. He is a big boy. He is not gonna cry. "So I get no candy?" 

"I'm sure you will. Later? Probably?" 

He will not cry, he will not cry, he will not cry. 

"Hey hey hey." The man sounds like he is about to cry himself, which makes Antonio feel a bit better about his own childish sniffles. He gingerly sits down on Antonio's bed. For a second it looks like he wants to hug the boy, but then he just hugs himself. "Don't cry, Tonito. You'll get your candy. Just later. How about… how about you hold on to that tooth for now and I… I will tell you a story instead. To tide you over?" 

Antonio perks up immediately. He loves stories. Almost as much as candy. "You will?" 

"Sure kid. A short one, okay?" Perez's helper wrings his hands and looks towards the door. "Casita, you will warn me if someone-" He shoots Antonio a quick look. "You will warn me when it's time to go, right?" 

Casita waves soundlessly with the door. 

"Alright. Lay back, Tonito. There, that's good. Have you ever heard the story of the princess and the frog?" 

***********************************

Antonio falls asleep to the sound of a rumbling voice talking about adventure and love. Perez's helper is a very good storyteller. He makes different voices and he uses El Raton Perez himself to act out some scenes. He even allows Antonio to pet the rat. 

Just before he's completely asleep, Antonio thinks he feels the man pull up the blanket and tuck him in. Just like Mama and Papa always do. 

And then he's gone. 

****************************

The next morning his tooth is gone and in its place is a piece of candy. It's nice, but the story was even better. 

When he tells his Mama and Papa about Perez's helper, the two of them exchange that weird, grown up look they get sometimes, indulgent and amused. They praise his colorful imagination. 

"But my tooth is gone. He must have come back later!" 

And again that weird, amused, look. Like they know something he doesn't. 

He is in a bad mood, because no one will listen to him, until Dolores finds him in the garden and hugs him tight so she can whisper into his ears. 

"Perez's Helper is a secret, hermanito. The adults can't know." 

"You know about him too?" 

"Sure I do. How did you like the story about the princess and the frog? That was always my favorite." 

"I loved it!" Antonio cheers. He grows somber really quick though. "I wanted to hear more. Do you think he will tell me another one when I lose my next tooth?" 

"Who knows." For some reason, Dolores looks towards Tio Bruno's tower, the one Antonio is not allowed near. "If we are lucky, you won't even have to wait that long for a new story."

Antonio is not quite sure what she means, but he hopes she is right. 

He already misses El Raton Perez and his helper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll probably upload this to ao3 next week. Will let you know when that happens

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers With an MC That’s Only Soft for Them

So, cute Headcanons are my kryptonite! Please enjoy, my fluff loving brethren!

Lucifer

We at Stupid Headcanons inc. recommend that MC does not inflate this bastard’s ego further, but if they choose to…

Lucifer, the morning star, a high ranking demon, does not need MC’s affection… that was a lie he C R A V E S it.

This pairing is actually quite complimentary, Lucifer is only soft for MC, MC is only soft for Lucifer, perfectly balanced.

MC shouldn’t expect Lucifer to be too reciprocal to their affections in public until they’re both neck deep into the relationship, but in private, hoo boy.

The “good job!”s, the hugs, the quick pecks on the cheek, all of it just made Lucifer practically melt. He adores all the affection, and it’s all for him.

Finally, someone in this house appreciates him…

“Lucifer, try not to overwork yourself, if you need anything, just ask, okay?” “Thank you, MC.” “Hey MC! I need help, pass me the remote.” “YOU CAN WALK OFF A CLIFF BELPHIE! Love you, Lucifer.”

And to be honest, some of the roasts are funny, but MC, dearest, please dial down the sass near Lord Diavolo.

Mammon

Of course MC’s favourite is the Great Mammon! Heh, who else would it be? Not that he needs this human’s affection or anything!

…screw it, please MC, give him more head pats.

Hand holding, hugs, resting his head on MC’s lap… Mammon’s really living the life.

In public Mammon is constantly trying to get MC to shower him in praise and affection in his own weird tsundere kind of way. It’s good thing MC is always willing to give their demon all the love they have.

It just makes him so happy that all of MC’s affection belongs to him, it makes his greedy little heart sing.

MC’s love and care tragically does not save him from being caught for his shenanigans, but MC, stone cold bitch that they are, will always do something bad to get strung up next to him.

“MC, what’re ya doin’ here?” “Oh you know babe, just hanging around.”

Nothing makes him smile more than when they stick up for him, to MC, he isn’t scummy trash, he’s the great Mammon! Their super amazing guardian! He does what he can to live up to MC’s image of him!

Since Mammon’s super supportive of his human, he’ll always provide reaction sound affects whenever MC delivers a verbal smack down.

Levi

MC likes him? Must be a joke. Who’d like a gross Otaku like him…?

The human exchange student apparently.

They’d listen with a look of pure adoration on their face whenever Levi would ramble about his favourite anime, they’d help him organize his figurines, they’d play video games with him…

Man… MC’s really playing the long con here on this practical joke.

When Levi isn’t drowning in self doubt, he absolutely loves how sweet and gentle MC is around him, a side only he gets to see… *swoon*

A cold mean character that’s only soft for their love interest??? That’s one of Levi’s top five favourite romantic tropes!

Levi’s often taking notes on MC’s snappy remarks so he can sass people while he streams, he’s not too good at it, so he just streams with MC present. His viewership goes up whenever exponentially whenever MC says anything.

“Someone in the chat just said I must be insanely lonely-” “There’s no way in hell you’re lonelier than that guy at night. His bed ranks number one in the top ten loneliest places ever.”

Satan

At first, Satan took more of an analytical interest in MC’s attitude, they’re either suicidally impulsive or very confident in their ability to run from danger if they think they can sass demons and get away unscathed.

Once the two connect and MC goes soft for him, it’s game over. Satan’s weakness is cute things, and nothing is cuter to him than his usually mean MC raining affection and compliments down upon him!

Satan finally has a leg up on Lucifer! The human adores him and isn’t afraid to talk back to that pretentious motherfucker-

MC sits in Satan’s lap and the two read together, they smuggle cats into the house, they lay in bed together plotting the downfall of their enemies… just normal couple things.

Sometimes MC just sits next to him and makes a particularly nasty quip at someone else, then give him a big ol kiss on the cheek.

It just makes him oh so happy…

“Honey, I brought you tea!” “Ah, thank you MC.” “I took it from Lucifer’s private stash of relaxing tea :D” “You really are my soulmate, aren’t you?”

Asmo

Gasp! MC’s so mean! Do it more!

Asmo, sassy god he is, appreciates a good snide remark or twelve, so he’s always got a front row seat to MC’s shennaniganery.

Before the pact, he was back in the peanut gallery with Satan wondering when MC’s words would come back to bite them, but after the pact, nothing’s touching the human. Their sass is completely consequence-less as long as Asmo’s around!

These two are a match made in hell, literally. Asmo and MC get to be so in sync that they manage to make each other’s insults better by working together.

“I’d give you the name of a few surgery places but I don’t think they implant brains into unlucky people like yourself.” “They might be able to implant a better personality though~.”

Asmo’s fully willing to flaunt his relationship in public. Sort of in a “look at us! MC’s only nice to me! Eat shit losers!” kind of way.

It isn’t all vanity and insults, MC always finds a way to make Asmo feel better whenever he’s feeling down. MC makes sure to tell Asmo as often as possible that they love him for more than just his looks, and it makes the Avatar of Lust swoon.

Just as long as MC never turns their razor sharp wit on Asmo, he’s their cheerleader forever.

Beel

Good choice, MC.

Despite his resting bitch face, Beel’s a big softie, everyone knows that, and as the Simpsons said, ‘the strong must protect the sweet’.

Well… MC isn’t as strong as Beel, but they will verbally eviscerate anyone who even dares insinuate anything not nice about their precious gigantic cinnamon roll!

“Listen up bitches! Not you Beel, we’re all glad you’re here.” “^_^” “Y’ALL ARE IN DEEP SHIT.”

Beel loves how affectionate MC is! Doesn’t matter if it’s in public or private, he and MC are almost always at least holding hands.

MC always has emergency snacks on them, they never get upset when Beel eats everything in the house, they just smile and hand over whatever food they have on them and help fix the problem.

Beel is probably one of the only characters who would try and get MC to branch out and be nicer to everyone and not just him. Whether this works depends on MC.

Belphie

Does he deserve this? No. Did he almost start crying when MC began to show him genuine care and affection? Yes. Does he nearly die of laughter every time MC snaps at someone? Yes.

Belphie’s not sure why MC decided that they were going to love him of all demons… but they just… understand him.

They listened patiently and offered a shoulder to cry on, even after he hurt them… their understanding, their compassion, just wow. Belphie really lucked out.

MC lets him nap, fluffs his pillows, reminds him to wash his pillow cases and comforter, gets him sushi, like geez… what a simp… *sniffle*

In return, Belphie offers cuddles. Cuddles and quality time together. For the first time in how many millennia Belphie is going to get off his ass and do something for someone if they ask.

It’s a miracle.

Belphie isn’t one for flaunting a relationship but… he may just let some people know that this super mean human likes him the most by giving his human a quick kiss.

[angryschnauzer]

Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

-

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

-

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

-

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

-

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom. 

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised. 

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

-

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind. 

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.