#bugs demons ghosts NONE OF IT

[vaniloqu3nce]

i need me a partner who will eat all the cream off my oreos because im lactose intolerant and i hate the cream

cookie superiority

[whereserpentswalk]

Like to give your creature a pat on the head. Reblog to get them to come to you. Tag your friends to increase their power. Look under the cut to see what it's like to meet your creature.

The vampire: She first comes to you as a shadow entering your room but takes fleshy form as she comes to the seat of your bed, wearing men's clothes from centuries ago. Though she is not of this world anymore you can tell that she once was human, even if such humanity is long forgotten. Her mouth shifts, from something massive and monstrous, with many fangs and moving parts, to something more humanoid, though still with sharp steel fangs in place of teeth. She sings to you and old forgotten song, of gods only spoken about by humans in taboo whispers, and fleshes you look of her ever-young bright red eyes. You begin to harmonize, your voices meeting as equals, as she begins to rest on your lap, and let herself be pet like a cat. You feel the shape of her body, it's so cold. She begs for your blood in song, and you give it to her as you pet her head, her mouth opens up to its monstrous size again, but she's so loyal and submissive as she drinks from your hand, like a bird eating right out of your palm.

The ghost: The room fills with red, as red and a blood moon, and red as a fresh beating heart. Spirits rise and you see something ancient lash towards you, hir hands like a mantis's claws, hir face like a skull yet featureless save for two dark eyes, hir red body covered in bug like limbs and tentacles and shimming egg cases. Sie turns hir head to look at you and sie rushes at you like a deadly predator but passes through you, eldritch ghostly wires wrapping around hir like chains to pull hir back to you as sie bows, defeated, begging with only a look not to be banished. You're not sure if sie is terrifying, pathetic, or honorable, but as you put your hand out sie seems somewhat honored to be allowed to stand up. You wonder what sie's thinking but you don't think to ask, it's only barely dawned on you that such an inhuman creature has a mind like yours, that sie is sentient, that hir race was much like yours when they were still alive. You just look at each other for a good amount of time, not sure who is more powerful.

The angel: They first come to you in an empty subway station, the ruins on the ground barely keeping you safe from them. Yet they look forlorn, like they would not have the energy to hurt you. Their form is pale and ghostly, white and colorless, the only mark of brightness being the blood that stains their hands, and wings. Chains weight down their slender body, as a veil hides their face. For a small moment they spread their six great wings, showing you their true size and power even in their cursed state. Eye sockets open for you for a brief moment, all over their body, all of them empty. Terrifying as they are none would deny that they are in great pain. You reach your hand out and gently whisper "it's ok" as they slow down and look at you as if they have not seen such sympathy from a creature in a long time. They extend a hand for you to hold, and you grab it, pet it for a slight moment, and you can feel a long dead fire seep through your veins. "It's ok." "It's ok."

The faceless woman: Deep beyond the city limits, where no light shines save for the stars, you see her, spiderwebs and shadows her friends, and faeries and dead gods her masters. She looks like a human at first, tall and long haired, in a ragged suit that covers her flesh. But then you see her head, and where her face could have been there is only a black pick, a hole that no normal human could survive to have. It looks at first like the void is of pure darkness, but inside it you have catch a glimpse of countless teeth like a lamprey's. She seems to laugh though she has no mouth, amused that a human would think to approach her, but you approach her even more, wondering what she even is. She suddenly gets excited as she sees something in your eyes, sees that you won't back down. You offer her some raw meat, a sign of good will, as you put it in her hands, she consumes it by causing it to melt into dust in her hands. She looks at you, as an ally, an accomplice, if she could, she would have smiled.

Paladin: She stands before you, bowing strangely, so submissively, though she's so obviously strong enough to rip you apart. It's strange to think this creature is actually in your room, that she's actually yours, that she was once a human like you. You can see where the plate and chain is fused to her neck, her hands eternally attached to her sword and flintlock, her eyes looking up at you wish a strange sadness. There's blood on her face and hair that will never wash out. As you come closer she seems afraid of you, like you could ruin her in ways that she could never hope to ruin you, despite her power and prowess. You ask if you can pet her head and she nods, you aren't sure yet if she could speak to you if she wanted. When you so gently pet and stroke her face and hair, she seems so happy, so happy to have someone treat her in such a way. You tell her that she's doing well, that she did a good job, it seems like she needed to hear that.

Autumn faerie: He looks down at you from the tome that he walked out of the world around them blackened until he's all that you're able to see. A smiling mask rests on his face, and far more cover his body, the only clothing on his strange body, almost human, almost extremely not human, bright wings sprouting from the flesh of his back. He looks at you, studying you, like he already knows so much about you but now he finally gets to see you. Is he impressed? He at the very least seems as if he's satisfied. He hands you a mask, you don't know how, but it looks like you, not literally, it looks more like an animal then a human, but it looks like your true face, like just as you summoned and bound him with his true name, he gets this from you in his return. You put on the mask, the deal is signed at it rings with pleasure, you'll never be the same again.

Harpy: You first see zir on a fire escape, the lights of the buildings around zir shining like stars against the starless night sky. You can only see zir eyes at first, shining gold against the darkness of zir body. But you call zir into your apartment with a forgotten tongue and watch a ze lands near you, so very alien but so very close. Zir body is marked by feathered wings, and zir form are like a bird's from the waist down, blue and white and gold as if they were painted, you can tell zir body was crafted directly by the gods themselves. You call upon zir with a song long forgotten and wondered what the look in zir eyes means. Though ze is beautiful ze has taken lives, and though ze is humanlike in some regards to zir shape, zir movements are so alien. You let zir carry you, and it feels strangely good to be held, and let zir fly with you, above the city streets, looking down at things most will never see, at birds and clouds flying past you, and at the world below, so many people, and somehow you feel safe with the wind rushing past your hair.

Incubus: You see him, sitting in an empty office building. His humanoid form is slender and short and more pretty than he is handsome, the only reason you think of him as male being his flat chest. You can he's now human from the raven's wings and scorpion's tail on his back, the branching horns and snakes for hair on his head, his sharp teeth and the stars shaped pupils. The clothing he wears is loose and comfortable, as if it was chosen in a state of depression. You expected more confidence when you summoned him. He backs away from you afraid, afraid of what you'll do to him. It looks like monster hunters got to him before you had a chance to, he's lucky to even be alive. You set out some rat's souls for him to eat so he'll trust you more, and you assure him that it's ok, that he's safe. He starts crying a bit as he looks at you, and after he finishes eating you offer to hug him. He lets you and you feel his body be surrounded by your arms. He's afraid but enjoying the affection so much as you assure him again that you won't hurt him.

Golem: They sit by you in abandoned mall, displaying so much power as they move steel pipes to the side to get closer to you. Their strength mired by the way even the smallest rip seems to be something them need to avoid. You look at them, their body so perfectly created, like human sized origami, the letter of life on their head being the only thing that marks their pure white paper body. You ask them to follow you, but they won't follow, a single puddle blocks their path, no obstacle for you, but even a being of their power has weaknesses. You slowly clear it, putting objects you can find over the puddle until finally they can follow you out into the light, still afraid of the sky you hand them an umbrella, just in case...

Undead: You first see him in a dark alleyway that the sun cannot meet him in. You wonder how many dimensions he's been to, how many dimensions he's been from, before he got here. He looks at you with three eyes of different colors. Skin stitched together across him, of different colors and textures and levels of rot, clothing resting on him from several different lives. He chatters, first in one voice asking where he is, where he could be. Then another voice questions you, wondering who you are, why you'd want to see him. Another voice looks at his own face in a piece of shattered glass and screams in terror. For a moment you think he'd attack, you're not sure if the spell would protect you. But he doesn't, he just looks at you for a while, confused perhaps. You ask him if he wants to follow you, and he seems to. Within his storm of countless voices, he decides to ask you, almost with all at once, "who am I." After thinking for a while you decide to answer, "You're you."

Demon: You stand in a closed down amusement part, the sea beside you shining like in the moonlight as he rises out of the water. He's massive; larger than you expected. His body a pale white as he rises out of the newly boiling water, his three heads eat long and sharp toothed like an alligator's, his eyes as red freshly cut meat, seven tattered wings on his back expanding to nearly cover the sky. He laughs, you're not sure how sadistic or how genuine it is considering the unreadable expressions of his reptilian heads. He charges at you with his teeth gnashing and blood pouring out of each of his mouths. But the spell blocks him like a shield made out of the air. As he fails to attack you more, he becomes frustrated, then tired, and rests on a rollercoaster. He seems to respect you knowing you were able to bind him like that, and regardless of if he likes it or not, he's yours now.

Shapeshifter: She slowly walks towards you out from the tunnel, she experiments with forms to see how you react; a small white kitten, a robotic humanoid woman, a long-haired demoness, a woman made out of blue slime. You can tell she's seen a lot of creatures before, that you're not her first master, she's known vampires, and werewolves, and demons in her time. It doesn't seem like many of them have been kind to her. You call to her and bring her closer with your magic. Slowly you watch her, you just wait as she changes her form, getting more experimental with the bodies she's willing to take. You just look at her, letting her be herself, letting her show you her art. Eventually she settles on something that feels like herself, something that she can be comfortable following you home with.

[bogleech]

These are now in my opinion the first five most maximum Halloween Pokemon, if you could only actually use all of these in one game like god intended. See you got the bare essentials of pumpkin, ghost costume, skeleton and bat but the bat is also a scorpion (and on the down-low a buried horror movie reference) so it's more Halloween than any of the other bats and you certainly can't go without some kind of bug creature presence (even if it's not a bug type), while the newly unveiled Dipplin is a seasonal fall junk food that also has worms in it so personally I think that's as mandatory as having a pumpkin. The final spot, if this were a Pokemon team, is up in the air because until they come out with like a witchy psychic spider or a candy corn demonic owl or something there's a lot of equally valid candidates for 6th Halloweenest

You could arguably fold your bat and skeleton presence together into Lunala but then you would still need to find a place for an arthropod and unfortunately none of the Pokemon's spiders have a spooky enough theming yet.

[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 3

Pairing : Winter soldier x reader (post apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : Desperation, starving behavior, references to war, duality of the mind, emotionless man

Word count : 2020

Chapter 1

Bucky MasterList

You stopped breathing, the ghost of an echo bouncing through your ears after he’d yelled at you.

Your eyes snapped from his cutting and cold gaze, further down to the glimmer of his fearsome metal fingers as they closed around the old brass knob on the door. The only opening to the room, the only way out, and you wouldn’t be able to reach it, let alone slip past his solid stonelike frame.

You weren’t ‘calm’ by any means, but he had your attention, and even as you continued to shiver, it was all he really needed.

“Are you hungry?”

You flinched as he spoke; his voice edged only with a lack of patience as it reached out to you with heavy hands to shake you from your reeling thoughts.

You didn’t answer just yet, feeling your pulse thrum along your skin wildly. You just laid there, stunned as you stared at those metal fingers tightening around the knob of the door and trying to ease your own breathing before it made you feel numb.

“I asked if you were hungry.” He was much more stern, and even a little louder this time, watching with equal disinterest as you gasped back and struggled to answer.

“Y-yes… I‘m hungry.”

You spoke weakly, your lips shaking and your eyes welling with a wet dribble of tears. Like a small break in the smallest of bones as you gave in to the absurdity.

Of course you were hungry. You’ve been hungry since you were a screaming infant, just as everyone doomed to a life in the wasteland had been. Food in any amount was a luxury, whether it’s warm meat and grains or smashed bugs you find crawling along the floor by your bedroll.

This promise of food without a single bat of his eye should have felt like a dream come true, but something in your stomach felt heavy before clenching with a sharp cramp. That familiar pang of hunger pains morphing viscerally into obvious fear as your guts knotted together.

This was the only moment in your miserable life that you didn’t crave food, as you were consumed only with dread.

You didn’t want to take anything from this unholy amalgamation of man and metal. It was like cowering beneath the boogeyman, a monster of jagged teeth and twisted limbs that could steal your last shred of innocence, only to find an unreadable being that looked no different from yourself. He didn’t wear enough of his lethality on his skin, leaving you to spiral at the possibilities of what these chains binding you to his lair really meant for your near future.

It was no better than being a rabbit caught in a cage. There is the offer of water and now food, but the danger of your captivity, just as the chain around your leg, was a staunch reminder that none of this would be out of kindness. There is no good reason that you are here—none that could be conceived as all the terrible reasons swarm your aching head.

His expression never seemed to change as he took in every reaction you gave him, seeming to read it like new data to further his own strange purpose. When he was finished searching your jumbled tomes, whether having found his needed information or losing interest, he dragged that door open and disappeared through it before shutting you back inside that room. Only this time, you were alone with the crushing silence he had once held above you.

A silence quickly broken by the hard clack of a lock turning shut in the flimsy wooden barrier this soldier had placed between you two.

He fit the stories from old fantasies of war. An old story long left covered in dust, detailing how both sides ate away at one another until the bones were bare and empty of their marrow. He bore the red star, the mark of a demon of irradiated sands. One head severed from its ranks meant two would splinter out in its place, biting and gnashing its way through the wasteland.

The great hydra was supposed to be dead, a final rest assured long before your own birth. How wrong they all were apparently, and as you recounted those scary fairy tales, your stomach twisted harder and harder.

You tried to steady your breathing, letting it stutter and shake before it finally met an even rhythm.

‘You really did need to calm down’ The traitorous thought was the last fly to buzz through your brain before you let the muscles in your shoulders fall loose to hit the floor.

Your ankle still felt heavy with its new iron cuff, and you struggled back onto your elbows and further onto your feet, the sound of the chain dragging along the wood the only noise left to taunt you.

Your eyes narrow at the brassy knob, a small spark of defiance finally igniting in your chest only to fall short of catching a flame.

You were frustrated at best, hot tears stinging your eyes before spilling out over your dirty cheeks.

‘Why me? For fucks sake, why?”

How were you significant enough to be stolen? Did he pity you, thinking that keeping you would be better for your well-being, like a lost kitten climbing among the rocks he had scooped up?

Why would a monster want to help you? Why would he bother to care for you when he could do what any other villain would do to others who strayed too far from home?

But, this room didn’t look like a pen to keep his livestock. It had a small window at its other end, barred on the outside of the glass for your protection. The bed wasn’t shabby, only worn, and with actual blankets and pillows.

If you were to be kept, you suppose he chose to keep you well.

You turned back to the door, its knob within reach, but you didn’t jump to futilely pull or tear at it. You reach forward, a shriveled shard of hope still tearing at your heavy heart as you slide your fingers around it.

You know it was locked; you heard it happen, but you still clung to the possibility of this being a terribly real nightmare instead. Maybe your mind would let you open the door, but as you twisted the handle, it of course did not budge.

You stood closer, your head falling to your chest as you pressed your fingers to the wood. Your mouth opened with a shaking exhale of an empty scream, and new tears flooded over to wash the rest of your grimy face.

You did not expect the door to push forward on its own, nearly smacking you in the face as it knocked you back. You land on the floor unceremoniously. Still so weak and unsteady, you weren’t even a suitable match for an old door.

The man was back, standing over you with a plate in his human hand. He sighed before setting the platter of promised food on the bed, stepping over you in the process.

He spoke evenly, saying, “I didn’t mean to hit you,” but his voice didn’t carry any ounce of guilt for knocking you back on your ass. Would this have been the first time he’d knocked you down, or was it simply the only time he hadn’t meant to do so?

“Are you alright?” he asked as he leaned over your crumbled form, reaching towards your reddened cheek where the wood had initially smacked you.

You immediately shied away from his touch but didn’t fight to scramble backward.

He leaned away but offered you his less harrowing hand to help you off the floor instead of leaving you to do so by yourself again.

You never answered his last question, but as he didn’t press further, it was possible that he wasn't really interested either way.

He gestured to the plate of food he’d set on the bed and said flatly, “Eat.”

You looked over at the plate still perched on a pile of blankets. A slab of cooked meat, diced cubes of root vegetables, and a mush of something boiled, green, and leafy. It was the best thing you’d ever seen.

Actual meat the size of your hand coupled with real vegetables possibly rich with those vitamins and mineral-things the doctor used to talk about. Whatever it was, it made your tongue wet as you swept it over your cracked lips.

A small part of you still wanted to be cautious, as another balled its fists in frustration from being kept away from a beautiful plate of healthy food.

You opened your mouth, only to choke back on the words with a wet cough. You sputtered again, crying like a sad child for him to witness before finally speaking.

“Are you going to drug me?”

"No,” he answered quickly and with little care.

You watched for any signs of a farce, a twitch of an eyebrow, a quirk of a lip, anything. His eyes held their dull, disinterested blue as he waited for you to make up your mind.

You ventured closer to the plate, pressing a dirty finger against the still hot morsel of meat. It was light in color, like white meat off a rabbit, but you needed to be certain before going past this thin line you had drawn for yourself.

Your lips stuck together as you nearly whispered a squeak of a few words, “Is it people?”

The ‘P’ was sputtered by the drop of collected tears, making the sound more pronounced as it left your lips.

“No”

You looked back at him at the subtle change in his voice. With one word, one syllable, it was oddly unmistakable. He sounded a little offended, and yet he didn’t lift a finger against you.

That last ‘no’ was all you needed before throwing yourself at the plate, scooping at the wet potatoes and greens with your fingers to wipe the tasteless sludge over your tongue in ecstasy.

You tore at the meat with your bare teeth like a hungry dog in a frenzy of unending starvation.

You weren’t human anymore; no longer yourself. It was shameful how you felt. In this moment, as you tore at a lump of fat with your back molar, you wanted this more than ever.

You wanted to be a pet if it meant the promise of this minimal care. You wanted to be kept; you wanted the fresh water and food; damned be the consequences.

You weren’t thinking clearly, not until you licked the last stain of grease and green vegetable smudge off the plate with your desperate little tongue. You hadn’t realized you were panting, gasping at the air, and holding the plate with white knuckles and numb fingers as if he could fly off and never return.

His expression had shifted for only a second. A split moment where his eyes widened a single centimeter before returning to their natural steely state. His shoulders stayed stiff with new concern. It was all a subtle change you had missed during your indulgence.

“Do you want more?” He asked, his voice still tainted with that unspoken concern.

You swear you could nearly feel your heart stop at just hearing those words. You were still desperate, and you nodded frantically.

He reached carefully towards you for the plate, giving you his metal fingers instead of the soft fleshy digits of his other hand. Possibly anticipating being bitten when pulling away the saucer. You let him take it from you, watching as he repeated his earlier actions of leaving and locking you inside the room.

There was a burn of shame somewhere in your stomach, but it was greatly overshadowed by a deep desire for sustenance. And, this man, what should be a monster in your eyes, was unbothered to fulfill such a desire.

You stood in place, not reaching for the door like the captive you are, not waiting on the bed like a puppy missing its master. But, by god, you wanted that fucking food.

Chapter 4

More post apocalyptic AU

Tags : @itsswritten @cjand10 @dear-lolita @took-a-wr0ng-turn @scott-loki-barnes @ihavetwoholesforareason @potatothots @toozmanykids @wintrsoldrluvr @heletsmelovehim

[spoiled-fawn]

Lust by Nature {Part 5}

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Read on ao3

Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader

MDNI: 18+!

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: ~6.5k

Summary: In Mexico with Los Vaqueros!

A/N: I swear I didn't take a break, I just wrote this a billion times and am struggling to make my writing better without a beta writer. I hope ye enjoy!

The constant drone of the plane's engines became white noise after the first hour. It blended into the sound of your breathing by the 10th. Given four days after the medical ward stint, exhaustion still coats your nerves with a steady hum, rivaling the plane’s engines.

Thankful for your government stipend coming back into play, a private plane across the pond was allocated to the team. Besides this, it meant you got to lie down and sleep during the flight to Mexico.

“Sae whit th' heck ur we daein' ower 'ere again?”

Groaning at the man whose lap your head rests on, you slap his knee weakly.

“Soap, be quiet.”

“Sorry, bonnie.”

His warm hand that's been petting you throughout the flight cards through your hair. A soft laugh bleeds through his breath. He’s been careful not to touch your horns after giving him a warning bite to his thigh earlier.

The sergeant had been an angel the past few days, as had Gaz and Ghost. After Deidrick was reported and shipped out in handcuffs, the boys stuck to you like glue in the easy moments. Annoyingly hovering because they had no issue with your protests.

Price and Gaz sit adjacent to you with laptops clicking away. Ghost, sitting opposite of you, spread out like a pampered cat. Something you feel that man deserves to enjoy.

“Tha’s the fifth time you're asking, Soap.” Gaz groans out. Making a noise that you can assume is him stretching out, the lower timber of Price echoes him a moment later.

“Alejandro’s men are having a tiff about selection to bring in a hybrid operator.” Price begins. “And they’ve got an issue with a renegade group. So, they’re having us help with their bug problem and show off Saint.”

“Show off that she’s a little shit most of the time?” Ghosts' deadpan humor never ceases to amaze you. All you manage is a small flip of your middle finger in response, making him laugh again.

“The fact being…” Price begins, voice coming closer to where you lie. “She is an enhancement to our team. Show ‘em how we work and help ‘em outta bit.”

You catch the small frown on his lips as your eyes blink open. The ocean in his eyes seems colder, foggy. A shallow wave of concern emits, forcing you to become conscious of how you’re curled into a ball, searching for warmth in the comfort of Soap’s legs. Goosebumps have been in a constant roll on and off during the flight, the chill on your body never ceasing to crest over you.

“How you feelin?”

“Cold, and like I need a B-12 shot with a Red Bull.” Looking much better than days prior, the dark circles under your eyes were still present. You’d all chalked it up to being subjected to a serious wound, then fighting against restraints whilst wounded, followed immediately by an 18-hour flight.

At least Mexico was going to be warm.

The feeling of a cheap blanket covering you brings some sense of ease as Price gently tucks it around you.

You miss the look Soap gives him when your eyes close.

“We’ll be there soon and can get you an IV if you want.” Is all the Captain offers before he goes back to his seat.

Truthfully it wasn’t even something that would help at this point. You’ve been starved of anything intimate for days you don’t care to count. As dry as the salt flats, your body groans with each crack of your powers. Stiff, split, and rough on each edge that tries to hold itself together.

In this state, your body let a small remnant of human mechanics take over to get you in good health. Eating food felt good, and drinking electrolytes and vitamins made you perk up. Your demon accepted emotions offered in your presence; love and care.

And usually, you would preen in the presence of these, savoring every moment you could. Yet right now, you hated the taste of it on your tongue.

Every ounce of care you received felt embarrassing. Coddled like something so fragile that can’t be protected. It angered you, the sense of superiority you radiated washed out and dragged under sea foam while trying to grasp at the surface. As if the moment you were left with the humans and away from the lab, every force of nature wanted to knock you off the water you walked on.

For now, you were surviving.

Price hadn’t said much after the interrupted kiss on the couch, having to scramble while Laswell mandated him on everything to be done.

The kiss was just that. A kiss.

Something passionate in the moment, but you knew it didn’t hold even a flicker of a flame. There wasn’t time in the dark hours of the night to huddle around the wet wicker that he is. He’s in charge, and his life is sacrificed to do so.

Sure, it would have been easy enough to come in and check on you while practically being babysat by the others. You listened for his familiar gait to approach your room in the late hours of the night.

But it never came.

With Laswell on base, the lack of interaction between her and Price made you feel like a toy soldier. Forgotten and avoided. Like he was embarrassed after it all. It made the attention from the others feel artificial, pitiful of his absence that was painfully obvious in the way you silently pleaded for him.

You had a bit more pep in your step by the time the plane landed.

Stepping into the Chihuahuan desert greets you with an eye-blinding brightness. The warmth is unrivaled as you open up like a sunflower. Looking around the expansive base, did you become coherent to where you are. Oh. This is familiar. Very familiar.

The mountain range peaks in the background of the small town in contrast to the flat land the base is planted onto. The airstrip has an impressive size, yet your plane is the only one showing activity. Like a barricaded wall, your teammates form a barrier around you while walking forward.

“Bienvenido de nuevo, my friends.” The first speaks out. Is that-?

“Good to see you all, again.” The second voice followed immediately after.

No fucking way. Had Price not been blocking your view with his large and toned back, you’d have recognized the voices sooner. You wait, rather forced to, while the men stand in a guarding wall before you.

“¿Dónde está tu demonio?” The men shift to disperse and greet each other with handshakes and half-hugs.

“She’s ‘ere. And don’t call her-” Ghost starts, looking over his shoulder to you while Price stays blocking your view.

“¿Y a quién llamas demonio?”

Ringing out from behind Price, peaking your head out to make your appearance.

Meeting the gazes of Alejandro and Rodolfo.

“They call me Saint, now.” Walking forward with an almost shy smile, you take in their reactions; Alejandro looks as dumbfounded as the day he first met you while Rudy almost cycles through the emotions of grief before blatant excitement settles on his face.

“Santa madre de-” Rudy punches Alejandro’s arm as if to make sure they're not in one of your trances. “You? It’s you?”

Dropping your bags, you meet him in the middle with a small hop into his arms. Peaking an eye open, you watch Alejandro walk with an almost angry swagger to wrap his arms around your back.

“Is this where you went? After how long- ¿Estás bromeando?” He almost shouts against your hair, each of them leaning down to leave a kiss where your horns won’t poke them.

“Are they takin’ the piss?” Gaz whisper-yells behind you, followed by Soap. “Does she speak Spanish?”

The small reunion disperses after a moment. Turning to face your teammates by the sides of the Mexican operators, a dazzling smile on your lips. Something they hadn’t seen before.

“Care to enlighten us how you know each other?” Price's arms crossed, body rocking on his heels. Chin tilted down in almost a parental look while flicking his eyes between the three of you. Your smile falls while taking in his sharpness.

“She came on a test assignment with us, in the forest. Even let us interview her.” Alejandro claps your back, looking down with an affectionate smile. “Was supposed to be for us, but they felt our men were not ready to handle a mujer malvada like her.”

“So when she left, we thought that would be the last of her we’d ever see.” Rudy finishes, moving a hand to pet your hair. “Mira cómo has crecido, princesa.” The low murmur draws a soft smile as he looks you over, almost too intimate with so many eyes watching.

Price shouldn’t feel threatened as threatened as he does.

Getting a move on, you’re led into the base's hallways. Nostalgia rushes over your lungs, almost suffocating from having the tangible feeling. Back when you were less experienced in a trepidatious custody battle.

An empty barracks hallway designated to 141 has three rooms lined up. Soap and Ghost already make their way into one, while Gaz moves to the one next to them. Price watches as you enter yours, staying in the doorway while Rudy enters the room with you.

“Are you not going to sleep with her?” Alejandro’s voice startles the seasoned vet. Watching as Price tries to move away to hide the tips of his ears turning red.

“No- No. It’s not like that.” He shakes it off, saying it for the thousandth time. Setting his bag down opposite where Gaz lays. “She’s her own person. I’m not using her for my entertainment.” There’s so much more he could say to defend himself. Dispel any feelings or even waste a breath trying to justify himself. But he leaves it at that.

He can feel Alejandro watching, hearing the cogs in his brain turning at the lack of an answer. Gaz brushes aside them to join Soap and Ghost.

“She’s different.” Alejandro starts, checking to see your door closed before he moves closer to Price. “She needs you to survive, Capitán. Nothing wrong or in the way of it- Yet you’re not getting your team to its full potential.”

This whole trip should have been a video call. Price’s clothes drop on the bed with heavy thuds, no soft movements but refrains from snapping at his host. Tension glimmers in the silence. Sounds of their breaths cut at your voice through the wall, almost smothered by the boys on the opposite side.

“We’ve been here less than an hour. How are you already giving me pointers on my team?” It’s not meant to be as harsh as it sounds. Alejandro can read between the lines from his position.

“She’s quiet. She’s not happy yet, not to what she should be.” His murmur breaks down the grating air between them. “You need to be careful with how slow your bond is going-” There’s that fucking word again. It pisses him off. It pisses him off more so that Alejandro knows your schematics exceptionally well to dish out advice. “Before something happens to her.”

“An’ what’s going to happen?”

The sound of your door opening as you and Rudy enter the hallway pulls Alejandro’s attention for a moment. Arms crossed while leaning against the wall in a relaxed form, his eyes almost appear softer with a quiet plead behind them.

“Just don’t let it get to that point, cabrón.”

Whatever means Price and the Colonel had drafted up was to show Los Vaqueros how your integration uplifts the team's mission while coinciding with integrating you into society. It sounds like a reentry program, save for the fact that you weren’t a criminal. The obvious added perk that you’ve been shaped into a soldier.

Plus you were fucking hot, so the perfect candidate to be a psyop if needed to sway the Mexican forces.

Tensions were underlaid with the men’s belief that having more than human power in an ordinary fight would soon lead to their dismissal. That, and that there was an underlying bias towards hybrids and creatures even stepping into war.

Having met Alejandro and Rudy previously set you at a higher level than respect. They know your capabilities and knew how to promote you.

You can hear the gym filled with deep voices that speak fast and low. Some women linger in their respective groups, but there was less of them compared to the base in England. The sound of the voices diminishes as you and the team step into the room.

Confidence exuded from Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap as they entered; Finally being able to parade you around in front of strangers made that feeling of being their pet return. Chin held high, your horns pointed towards the sky with a shine that catches the lights. Tail flickering behind you teased the soldiers with glances. The shape of your wings almost seemed like a shadow on your back, so black that it almost absorbed the light if not for the reflection of the soft scaled texture.

They move and flex in time with your breaths, brushing against Ghost as his hand keeps on your lower back to guide you through the door. Some whispers still stand out for those taking in your appearance, some speaking “Demonio” if they remember you.

When your red eyes look up and over the crowd, silence takes over.

“Buenos días, gracias por estar presente.” Alejandro breaks the static with an introduction and reasoning for the meeting- mandatory for the entirety of their base to move in on better resources, opportunities, and allocation of funding. “We welcome our friends back, to bring information on their newest addition.”

His speech moves through the facility definitions on the program; Highlighting the newest strategies for combined arms, and operations other than war, while showcasing how 141 has been integrating you within previously followed operations. A piece of them that solidifies their objective's success.

In the middle of the gym is a kill house. Made of plywood and spray-painted markings to denote entry and exit points, furnished to simulate a residential environment that tests differentiating friendly from hostile. Above is a projector screen, playing feed of the inside walls. It’s not the largest kill house you’ve been in, but tighter situations like this cause more stress and demand quicker reaction times.

In events such as this, where it's kill or be killed, those with a quicker reaction time will always come out on top. When Price steps up to speak, he presents you like a new piece of artillery.

“Saint can empathetically rule out emotions. Being able to sense them without even seeing the person, she can discern the intentions of the individual.” He shifts his weight, looking over the kill house before turning over to you. “The test will showcase her reaction time, and ability to compensate hostile forces while being mindful of civilians- if any, around her.”

Speaking on the heavy stress of why you were chosen for them, Price continues on while you're led to a small armory table by Rudy. His voice similar to telling a story with a moral at the end; Gloating on your interrogation skills and how you could make the information come out in less than a few minutes.

“Her breed is beautiful. Known for her looks, that's one of her greatest advantages. But-” You can hear him move about, getting comfortable in the crowd. “She is much more, than just a piece of art.”

Rudy’s hands check your gear, handing you an ISO and two 30-round mags while he leads you to the doorway.

“Show them what you’re made of, princesa. Eres mortal.” His lips meet your ear, giving a soft kiss that makes your smile grow pointed at the edges, giving a dangerous lick to your teeth. Rudy had learned how to rile you up since the first meeting, even in ways that Alejandro couldn’t.

You let your letting your lips kiss his cheek while smiling. A silent thank you for something sweet to make you feel just a bit more sinister. His hands give your waist a rough squeeze, your body absorbing his arousal as if sucking down water in an oasis.

Price’s voice booms a bit louder as the countdown begins overhead and signals Rudy to step back.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

“The challenge she faces today-”

Seven. Six. Five.

“will be the lack of human opponents.”

Four. Three. Two.

“But instead, virtual targets.”

One.

The buzzer rings out and your boot is already kicking in the door before it can finish. Sharpening your senses, to scan the maze-like layout of the house. The sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears fades in your mind.

As the first apparition appears, your hand moves with lightning speed to draw your weapon. The projected figure seemingly peaks by a bookcase with a weapon trained on you.

“Hostile.” Speaking in a growl from the back of your throat, a single burst rings out, hitting the target square in the chest before it fades away. Moving from the living room to the kitchen, four apparitions pop up from unexpected angles, forcing you to adapt and react in real-time. Going in time with how quickly the projections have them raise their weapons, you shoot bursts into their chest before looking at the figure displayed in a crouched position.

The barrel of your gun guides your eyes to focus, noting it's displaying a child crouched on the floor. “Civilian.” By the time you reach the fifth and final room, you’re met with a hostage situation playing on the bedroom wall.

“No te muevas o dispararé!”

Stilling, your gun stays trained on the man who holds the woman to his chest with a pistol raised to her head. The actor cries, cheesy enough it almost ruins the atmosphere. Before the animation can play out any further, a burst of fire embeds itself into the wall and they both disappear.

Finding your way back out, you dispose of the gear and fix your hair. Making your way back to the sides of your CO’s, the hidden signs of their approval don't dispel how it radiates around them.

But the sting of something sharp catches your heart. Surfing your gaze over your teammates, you catch Price’s eyes.

A sharp, hard-set stare holds you captive. Anger. You can tell from the sharp feeling in the back of your throat and almost as displeasure as pepper spray makes you recoil.

Did you fuck up?

The screen above draws your attention away. A fleeting excuse to turn away from him.

Your analytical statistics are side by side with the footage, showing near-perfect numbers; Two minutes in and out. Your figure, or lack thereof, looks as if a black haze in the kill house. Static borders the edges of you, leaving your eyes almost pitch black in the light amplification of the video.

“Think you look more of a ghost than Ghost does, lass.” Soap’s hushed laugh comforts you.

Trying to brush off whatever is stuck so far up your Captain’s ass, you stay between Ghost and Soap, hiding from Price’s aura that sours your confidence.

“Vaqueros,” Alejandro’s voice cuts the silence after the video ends. “It is time for your challenge.” He moves to the middle of his impromptu stage space where a sparring mat lies with a clear circle in the middle.

“War is changing, and now we have to. Pick a brother to fight and test her. Make it count. ¿Comprendido?”

The resulting answer is louder than you expected for a bunch of men who looked like they may faint at the sight of you.

The man sizes you up. Short wavy hair that looks black. About 6’ in height, medium build. Brown eyes. He’s by far no Gaz or Ghost, a lighter hue that doesn’t hold a depth like theirs. Less inviting.

The first lunge is led with his chest, feet following with the weight in his toes. Heavy in his strikes, you give the man credit and think you’d have been at least hit if he wasn’t a bit fearful. You can taste it.

Not using an increase of speed, you dance your dodges with him. He presses on, each time more intense as he gets used to your presence, your appearance, and nature. Not like you’d bite his hand off, damn. Having enough, you catch his wrist, using the shock of your touch to the advantage before turning and tossing him over your body and to the ground.

A collective sound of “Aye” and low whistles ring in the room, taunting and scrutinizing the operator looking up at you.

“Otra vez.” Masculinity in this culture is a serious thing, you learned a great deal from Alejandro and Rudy. There’s no smile, no laugh, or taunt, to your demeanor. His glare is vicious, but it means good progress for an actual spar.

Resetting, he wastes no time to tackle you.

You let him, wanting him to have his moment and feel a semblance of training. Your body rolls with his, absorbing his momentum while adjusting your limbs to grapple against his hold. Vaguely, he reminds you of a boar. Head-driven while using his size as intimidation, the testosterone that leaks from him is almost enough to make you cough.

It’s when you release a hiss of air from taking the knee to the ribs that you decide the show’s over. Elbowing the arm that holds himself up, locking your legs around his hips, you push him onto his back, growling. “Enough.” Your voice has that ethereal chime, sending shivers down the spines of those looking on with an intent to devour.

Focusing on his eyes, the connection forms a bridge. Golden glowing embers that only you can imagine leading your intentions to coat him with a soft push of influence. He stills beneath you. His grip on your thigh which was previously attempting to push you off becomes soft. Almost petting your muscle before he nods.

“Sí, señorita.”

The men watching start to holler, making enough racket that you have to push your control just a bit harder. Hand trailing over his face before taking his wrists and printing them above your head.

“Very good. Wake up.” As easy as it was to enter his mind, and form around him in a soft embrace, you pull back your influence. The trance leaves him in a breath, becoming aware of the crowd before looking up to find you smiling down on him.

The erection pressing against your ass is immediate. Giving his wrists a small squeeze, you stand from his lap a second later to let your actions speak.

It takes about another ten minutes for the meeting to adjourn. Some of the men had spoken up and even asked questions, and a lesser tension could be felt, compared to the beginning. They’d have much more work to do if it was ever to become a safe environment for whatever creature was chosen, but you had hope for Los Vaqueros.

Alejandro and Price agreed on having downtime before meeting for the second reason of the task force’s visit. With an hour to do nothing, Price decided to walk around on a self-guided tour, wanting to separate himself from the others.

He isn’t one to let curiosity get the best of him, but that became a lie when you joined. Tension in his knuckles begs to be cracked by the force of at least hitting something, pent-up frustration storming.

It was the moment between you and Rudy. He’d seen it.

What seemed like a private moment between you two hadn’t been fully concealed at the entrance point of the kill house. While everyone else had watched the feed of internal cameras, he’d been watching you.

Seeing you instantly melt into Rudy’s affection sparked something far too inappropriate for a man his age. Immature for a Captain. The nagging thoughts of hands coating something that belonged to him, made him want to lay his hands on you in any way. Spar marked as training, or grabbing you by the waist and against his chest.

Maybe you’d ask for a transfer. Fuck, maybe you’d be in bed with Rudy and Alejandro at the end of the night.

He doesn’t understand how you could chase him like a puppy, just to sniff a new bone and run in the opposite direction. Fleeting and impatient where your attention should be on him. You’re on his contract. Not theirs. That can’t possibly be broken and torn up. You’re his and his alone.

“I’m a fucking mess.” He admonished. To whom, he wasn't sure.

The hallways of the base were more intimate and narrow than the ones back home, making an eerie quietness come over him. Minimal sounds echoing, letting Price’s footsteps reverberate quietly on the concrete ground. It's when walking past a small corridor of offices, that the silence breaks.

“-your face, princesa. You’re tired and cold. No nos mientas.” Alejandro’s voice breaks over the hum of electricity in the halls. Straining to hear the vibrato of the conversation, Price follows the sound coming from an office a few yards away

“Tell, him. If he doesn’t know, how is he supposed to fix you?” Rudy’s voice consumes the space in a whisper, absorbing sound as he speaks gently. Price leans against an adjacent wall, the blinds on the door’s window blocking any view of him.

He can see you sitting on the desk with the two men he has loathed far too harshly since the start of the morning, crowding you. You lean into them, the movement of their hands petting you isn’t missed by Price.

The unspoken relationship between the three of you is so blatantly contrasted against you and the 141, that he wants to throw himself out of a window. The ignorant belief you wouldn’t stray from his heel grating in his mind.

Jealousy makes his lungs stutter at the wave of pressure from the sight. It makes him want to have a team bond that makes holding and sharing you in soft moments. It’s what he’s beginning to crave as he watches it happen with them.

Maybe if you weren’t a self-righteous prick it would be different. He tells himself, seething as he watches on.

“I’ll be fine. Just a few more days like this and I’ll be back to normal.” You almost sound defeated with the insistent directing and questioning.

“You know… We could always just-”

Before you can finish the sentence, Rudy’s hand gives a smack to your arm in the form of a reprimand. “No, cariño.”

Alejandro follows the reprimand, capturing your chin in his hand. “We respect the Captain. We’re not going to interfere with what you have together.”

Alright, Price is fractionally less mad at them, his paranoid mind bristling still.

“Yeah, right.” An irritated scoff leaves you, shaking your head from his hold. “Doesn’t want me. Made it known.”

When you hop off the desk to gather yourself, you miss the look between the Colonel and Sergeant Major.

“Price is a good man, princesa.” Alejandro starts, and the words stir you enough to let the disbelief on your face show.

“Why are you-” You cut yourself off, moving to turn on Alejandro. “Look at me. Any man would have fucked me on the first day. You know what's going to happen, if-”

It almost sounds as if you’re going to cry. Has it really been this big of an issue?

“Shh, you’re okay. Estas perfectamente bien.” Through the blinds, Price watches as they bring you back into their embraces. “We believe in you two, just let him come to his senses.” Rudy murmurs against your hair.

“If he doesn’t… Please call us, mi amor.” Alejandro finishes.

You don’t make it more than five minutes before being grabbed and shoved into an empty conference room.

“What the fuck-” A hand covers your mouth as the door locks behind you, flicking on a yellowing overhead light.

“What the fuck was that?” Startling at the intensity of his voice, your eyes dart to the ice-blue ones glaring at you, filled with rage.

“The hell are you talking about?” Your muffled reply makes his hand move from over your mouth and down to your jaw, his body crowding you against the wall.

“Don't you play stupid, girl.” Price’s voice drops lower than you’ve ever heard. Even thicker than when he finishes a cigar. The prickling feeling rolls off of him again, making your throat tighten. There’s another feeling to him. A crash of emotion that makes you want to lower your head and dispel any argument between each other. To please him.

Your silence makes him continue. “That little thing you had with Rodolfo earlier today. That little meeting you just had with them. What the fuck is going on?”

It's suffocating how fast your brain spins to make sense of it all. Trying to remember while the weight of his emotions makes a cyclone crash into you. It’s not fair that his eyes are boring into you, scanning for a lie.

Oh, Christ. That moment with Rudy. It almost feels shameful to know that he had seen it, and watched the intimacy between someone you trust. But the anger at Price for now approaching you like this, like he cared, outweighs everything.

“That wasn’t anything. It wasn’t even a thing.” Hissing back, gaze unmoving from his while puffing yourself up in defense. “It was a small pick me up.”

Price's expression turns dark. For a moment, all you can hear is the light humming above you.

“I saw it. Plain as day, Saint. The whole team did.” You feel the pressure on your body getting firmer. “Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? Seeing you act like a little slut for all to see?”

If it wasn’t for the anger boiling in your veins, you’d be turned on by how degrading he is.

So, you play his game.

“Oh I see.” A silent grin haunts your lips. “You jealous, Price?” Tilting your head up before he reaffirms his hold on your jaw. “Didn’t like how he touched me?”

You can see how close he is to doing something, being on the edge of a tipping point you don’t know of. The anger floods into you, making your own emotions match. The previous submission evaporates into a storm of fury, potent enough that your tail twitches aggressively against the wall.

“You’re really askin’ for it, ain’t cha?” He fumes. Breath fanning across your lips, the heat makes you lick your own. The buckle of his belt presses against your stomach, and you wonder if it’ll leave a mark with how much he pushes onto you. “Say that again, I dare you."

The heated air between you charges something greater than your dream ever did on him, heavier than any touch you’ve felt by his hands. So, you do what he asks.

“Are you jealous, Captain?”

Before you take your next breath, his thumb moves to invade your mouth; Pressing against the backside of your lower teeth, he opens your mouth for you while leaning to speak against your ear.

“You think I don't know what kind of games you’re playing, right? Tha’ I don’t see how you’re acting right now?” The brush of his beard itches your right cheek. And god damn this forsaken man, your panties are already soaked from the feeling.

Your jaw is still trapped in his hold, not allowing you a noise besides the garbled mess of a protest.

“You’re trying to piss me off right now so I punish you, and give you the satisfaction you want eh?”

You’d argue that it didn’t start that way, but now he’s certainly correct. “Keep acting like a child and you’re gonna be treated like one. Demon brat.”

Had it not been for the use of that insult, you could have forgotten that you were mad in the first place. Saliva pools in your mouth, and you can see his eyes dart down at the stand that drops onto your shirt.

You remind him of your fangs with a curl of your upper lips.

Seemingly reigning himself in, he releases his hold but lets his thumb remain on your bottom lip as you swallow.

“You want me to behave?” Inhaling shakily, as if high on a stim, your head tilts back to match his glare. “You gonna keep me on a leash? Make sure I’m by your side so my tail only wags for you?”

Price raises his eyebrow at that and somehow you feel like you’ve just let him win.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" His expression transforms into something more dangerous; A small smile curls on the corner of his mouth. "To be my little demon dog, staying by my feet, always ready to obey. Is that what you're after, Saint?"

Your hands move from the wall to instead find the meat of his hips, digging into his jeans with the tips of your nails. Pressing against him to stand on your tip-toes, the pressure of your hips together makes you bite down a groan, feeling a flicker of his arousal inlet to you.

“I’m not your little bitch.”

“You’re not?” He drawls, looking at you in fake surprise. The hand previously on your shoulder moves to your ass while he presses into you harsher.

"’Cause right now, you’re barking an awful lot with tha’ pretty little mouth of yours." He sneers, his hips grinding against yours forcing a gasp from you.

"And I think that pretty mouth of yours could make some different kinds of noises. Hm?"

At that, your head thuds against the wall. Fisting your hands onto his jeans, you don’t offer a response.

“Tsk. Gone quiet now?” His low laugh saturates your heart, the heat flowing to your core. To your surprise, he encourages your behavior. Lifting you with a hand under your ass with the other on your back, he turns to lay you on the conference table.

His erection grants you friction across your damp panties, good enough to almost sedate you in a drunken haze. When you prominently roll your hips against his straining cock, he groans loud enough to make him turn and bite his shirt.

“Maybe if you used me, I wouldn’t have to go bending over for anyone else.”

“You’re my operator. Your loyalty lies solely with me.” Snarling in a sharp contrast, a choleric look peers into you. “Is that understood?"

The drag of his beard across your cheek comes back, scratching your skin to bring you back from the feeling of his hardened cock rocking against your clit through your clothes. When you can only grunt in response, the hold on your jaw is the only warning before he kisses you.

Tongue diving in to meet your own, he dominates his way in while holding your jaw. Breaths borderline panting, the searing anger turning into a lustful spark, and fuck he tastes so good on your tongue. It almost dulls the meaning behind his words, of his claim and possession that comes to the surface. The feeling of submission comes to you again; Understanding that it's not you empathetically picking up on it, but rather the way your body wants to submit to his domineering energy.

His hand fists into your hair, holding you down as he licks into your mouth. You find your ground in the moment, kissing him back like a cannibal and expecting to see red smeared across each other's lips if he were to pull back.

“Show me you’re mine and I’ll give you what you want.” You can feel him start to leave you, his hold lessening to leave you on the table.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” A broken growl rumbles your chest, eyebrows furrowing as your jaw sets. Reaching out a hand to latch onto his belt, frustration glowing in your eyes.

He scoffs. Actually scoffs as he looks down with a twisted smile.

“Careful sweetheart. Don’t go ordering me around.” He easily shakes off your hand and greedily lets his eyes take in your body underneath him. It's uncomfortably tense as he grips your hip, moving to get off and away without a second thought.

The feeling of your pants tugging makes him stop.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.”

Looking down, you both find you're stuck together; The button of your pants having looped into his belt buckle. It doesn't make any fucking sense whatsoever, but rather keeping his hips tilted against yours with the pull.

“Could be fucking. But not kidding.” You griped, not offering any assistance. Wanting to keep him there for longer, your hips buck up.

“Stop. Moving.” He hisses, adding emphasis as he smacks the top of your thigh. “I'm trying not to bloody rip it.”

“Just take it off.”

The whine comes unabashedly from you, childishly biting your lip as you laugh at him. His fingerwork is clumsy, unable to unhook the button from himself. Huffing, you swat his hands away to take over. “Let me-"

Your fingers fumble between the button seemingly wrapped around his belt buckle, weaving around the metal in a way unknown to either of you. You’d settle for divine intervention.

“How’s it so fucking tight-” His hand holds yours while he tries to pull free again, only to feel you’re still stuck.

“Ye sly. Old. Dog.”

The speed at which Price’s head whips back over his shoulder is almost concerning for a man his age. Had you not also immediately looked to see Soap standing at the door, staring with the proudest shit-eating grin, you’d have noticed the vein pumping in Price’s neck.

“Soap, ‘ave you gone daft? Get. Out.”

You can’t even respond as your jaw drops from the surprise. The man wolfishly snapping his eyes to find yours, and holding it with a tick in his jaw. Fuck, even he's aroused with the imagination of finding you and the Captain fucking. Without validating any part of the story, Soap darts away with the door clicking shut, Price aggressively pulls hard enough that you’re freed- clothing unscathed.

“That’s gonna be spread like wildfire now.” He busies himself with being sure his pants are on correctly and probably hiding any remnants of his hard-on. You let the silence hang while fixing yourself up, wanting to walk out of the room as if you weren't close to being fucked. Trailing your eyes over Price, he doesn't bother looking at you, but the subtle flush on the tips of his ears is there. An expert in hiding his emotions and blending in for whatever the social context calls for.

“Don’t act like that’s not what you want to happen.” Hopping off the table and heading to the door, he crowds you from behind. His warmth makes your hand pause on the door, feeling the draft of his breath skim your shoulder. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, sending an anxious chill down your spine. More and more it feels like you've lost your advantage with him.

“I don’t want an endless fling to become your permanence. To sustain you.” His hand wraps around your front, securing a place on your neck.

“I want to drown in you.”

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 63 - I'll Cry if I Want To

You get drunk. Guess who comes lurking?

On AO3.

Getting shit-faced. That is what wine’s good for.

The night’s real pretty. Y’all are inside the grove, all the goblins’re fucking dead, and the druids ain’t gonna let…let fucking wargs or mean bears in here. So it’s safe. There’s a rock digging into your left ass cheek, and you cannot be fucked to do nothing about it. But you’re safe! So it’s fine.

You take another gulp. People say when you got enough alcohol, you don’t notice then taste no more, but those fuckers’re lying liars who fucking lie, and it still tastes like bitter…bitter piss.

Bitch burns, too.

“Shit is gross,” you say to nobody. “The fuck do people drink this?”

Probably cause it makes you warm. And vaguely floating. Your muscles seem to burn a lot more, but you’re still kinda happy. Not like, sing and flail around the living room happy, but happy enough the last…week? Ish? Whatever. The night is pretty. An owl hoots and squirrels run along branches. Bugs creak and hum and a crow in the trees above lets out a sleepy “crk.”

“Sorry!” you say. Realize you’re shouting. Whisper, “Sorry.”

Crows keep grudges, huh? You heard about that. Should let the little dude to back to sleep.

Probably shouldn’t be out in the woods by yourself?

Whatever.

Another gulp. Your whole face wrinkles.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” says a fucking rat man.

You turn. The woods spin a little, and you gotta blink before the two, pale silhouettes become one bastard man.

“’Sa party,” you say. “Errbody’s drinking.”

Why’s he here? You ain’t been gone long. Right? You’re pretty sure.

“How’s Lae’zel?” you say.

He winces. You’re shouting again.

You pitch your voice back down. “How’s Lae’zel?”

He gives you a look. It slides right on past you. “Jealous, dear?”

Your chest hurts again. Still for no fucking reason. “Pff. No. Just surprised how quick it was.”

For some reason, he pulls back in outrage (yeah! you recognize that one!). “Excuse me?”

“It ain’t nothing bad!” You only flail a little. Almost throw the wine bottle and then have to clutch it to your chest. Next to your soul flask. They clink through your shirt. “Just…y’know. ‘Fficient. You’re very efficient.”

He stands there like he’s trying to parse out what you’re saying. Did the potion wear off again? You gotta study more.

And who the fuck cares. You ain’t out here for him. You ain’t out here for nobody except to get shit-faced.

“Why are you out here alone?” rat bastard man says.

It probably ain’t supposed to be funny. Or maybe it just ain’t funny to him. Or anyone but you. But for you? You don’t drink, you don’t hookup, but you do plonk your ass down and get sloshed off a bottle and a half of wine all by your lonesome.

You want ice cream. You would literally kill a man for ice cream.

“If I didn’t know any better,” the bastard fuck boy says, “I’d say you look like you were trying to drink away your feelings.”

You squint up at him. White hair a silvery halo around his head in the moonlight. Eyes shining like new pennies in the low light. Fucker asks your opinion on who he ought to bang, and then finds you afterwards to…to fucking needle you?

You ain’t never been drunk like this. You flirted with getting mildly buzzed. Got borderline tipsy that once when Ryan fucking Meadows ghosted you and you ugly cried onto Sasha’s only clean work shirt.

None of that really processes, though. You ain’t really up to the whole “processing” thing right now; that barn door is long open and them hogs already sprinted for the hills.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, clicking the “k” at the end extra hard. “Pompous goddamn mess of a…of a man dick.”

He blinks like you just sprouted a beak and began reciting the entire works of Shakespeare in chicken.

And you ain’t done. “I got all the fucking reason to be off my damn ass out here, you shit. I lost my whole fucking family. Again. My whole fucking world. Fucking demons and brainworms and your ass. Maybe I just wanted to get drunk all by myself.”

You feel how dry your mouth is, and chug a few more swallows.

“Tastes like shit,” you say and try to scrape your tongue on your teeth. “Don’t know why anybody drinks it.”

Astarion still stands there. Fucking creepo. He’ll get all huffy and leave; toss you some snide bullshit before he goes. Jackass.

Only he don’t. He…lowers himself down. Not right next to you, but within kicking distance.

You think about doing just that.

“What even is that swill?” he says.

You look at the label. At the swirly-spiky letters all swooping together. Turn to him, with the most deadpan expression you can muster, and say, “What’s up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen, and I never fucking learned how to read.”

It is, hands down, the best joke you ever made in your whole life. You bend over laughing. You cry, laughing. Your bladder twinges and you keep laughing.

But then something happens. And you’re still laughing, and your eyes is watering, but now it hurts. Now you can’t breathe and nobody else is laughing with you cause they don’t get the joke and never will because your world is dead. Not like, actually. But they might as well be.

And like hell you want Astarion to fucking see that. So you shove the bottle at him and turn away like it’s just the giggles. Ain’t nothing to see here. Just a giggly drunk.

No one is ever gonna get your jokes. Ain’t nobody gonna know what “Wednesday my dudes” is. Or the helium balloons. Or the yoga grinch.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck.

Wine sloshes in the bottle. Astarion somehow gives an audible grimace.

“I think you grabbed the worst of them, darling. This is pure vinegar.”

You don’t turn around. You try to shove the goddamn sniffles back in your face. You don’t cry in front of other people. That shit ain’t safe. It’s how everybody knows how weak and stupid you are, and you are not gonna give this jackass that ammunition.

But it keeps coming. The smell of the red dirt after a hard rain. Homemade pecan custard pie. Uncle Randy was gonna take you to the Cherokee Days this fall. You was gonna try to learn basket weaving. The old style.

And you up and disappeared on him. On all of them.

Again.

Only this time, you ain’t coming back. This time, you ain’t gonna find no pink bicycle waiting for you cause you ain’t never gonna come crunching back over that red gravel. Never gonna smell them rich pecan trees, and bitch about Uncle Randy’s nasty cigarettes.

This is what you do, ain’t it? You disappear. You run off. You leave your family. All of your family, even the piece of shit parts over and over and over.

The tears coat your cheeks. You swipe at them furiously.

The wine sloshes again.

“Our gith friend had other plans for the evening,” Astarion says after…you don’t know.

You glance up and the sky spins above you. Fuck, you’re gonna make yourself sick you keep this up.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“That sucks,” you say.

He makes a startled, snorting sound. “There was none of that, actually. And that’s the problem.”

Ah. Ye-awp. That’d do it. That’d be why he’s here with you. His prospect failed, so now he’s come back to you. The easy one.

You sigh and finally lose your fight with gravity and flop onto your side. You wave vaguely over your shoulder.

“Go find one of them tieflings, then,” you say. “They can’t all be paired off.”

You’re tired, actually. Desperately so. The grass is nice and soft, and it’s safe out here, right?

Something shuffles. A rhythmic swish of grass. It’s the change in the air that alerts you. He don’t radiate body heat cause he don’t got none. But he is…surrounded by something a lot like a static field.

You look up to see him on all fours over you, peering down. Not like, over you, over you, it’s just his head. He wears no expression. Just…looks at you.

Have you ever seen him like this before?

“You didn’t seek any playmates of your own,” he says. And who the fuck talks like that?

“I got.” You start to lift your hand to waggle your remaining wine bottle, but your hands is empty. Ah fuck. “I had wine.”

“But you didn’t need to drink by yourself, darling. Both the cleric and the wizard would have gladly followed you out here.”

Well he certainly did.

Still, that blank face. Not, like, shuttered blank. Just…open. Or empty. It’s just his face.

…you should just tell him. All’ve this would be so easy if you just fucking told him. But he dumped you. He’s probably one of them guys who gets real weird when he finds out you’re thirty-five and are the sole provider of your own orgasms.

And it shouldn’t fucking matter.

“Didn’t want to,” you say. And do not elaborate.

Leaving the ball in his court. He fumbles with it. Stares at you like you just tossed him a soggy potato.

You’re kinda curious to see what he does with it.

His eyes narrow. You think he frowns. But it ain’t a pissy frown. It’s a thinking frown. And too late you remember that this bastard clues in on your plans real fast. That he seems to have a decent read on things (that ain’t trying to get into your pants).

Oh fuck.

“You haven’t dabbled with any of our merry band,” he says. Is that thoughtful? He sounds thoughtful. Shit on a goddamn cracker.

Um.

“And you saved me back at that goblin camp,” you say. And give yourself a mental high five, cause if he wants to delve into shit you don’t wanna talk about, take a reverse fucking uno card, jackass!

But he don’t dodge or parry, this time. He fucking leans in. You breathe in some of his own exhale and feel your cheeks begin to warm (through the booze).

“And what if I did?” he says, voice just shy of a whisper.

Oh. You didn’t expect that. Shit. What’s the play here? Uh.

“I’d thank you,” you say.

The sky spins above him. He’s the only steady thing in your vision.

“Is that all?” he says. Y’all are totally sharing lung air now, and his whisper gives you a goddamn ASMR shiver.

Except you’re drunk. And he’s way too close. And the shivers quiver down to your belly. The sky spins faster.

“What if I told you,” Astarion breathes, “that I’ve been thinking about our night together ceaselessly—”

Your stomach lurches.

Oh. That ain’t a shiver or a booze buzz or Astarion. You make some awful gagging sound, wrench up and to the side, and bring up about a bottle and a half of wine.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[caliboron]

I’ve gotta sleep but I finally found motivation to write. Here’s some of the fic I’m working on rn, I’ll keep writing when I wake up

It was a slow day at the office for the four Smiling Friends, but none of them seemed to mind. A comfortable silence had filled the room, aside from the droning hum of the refrigerator. Allan had the door propped open while he bent over and examined it’s contents.

“Alright. Who keeps eating my yogurt? It’s not funny anymore.” Allan let the fridge door slowly close on its own as he gave his coworkers a suspicious glare.

Pim and Glep sat next to each other at the table. They had a Mr.Frog coloring book spread open so they each had a page to color. Crayons were scattered across the table. “Meh.” Glep groaned. He sounded uninterested.

“It’s not me. I wouldn’t do something like that without permission.” Pim stuck out his tongue as he focused on the half-colored page of The Bug before him.

“That’s exactly what a guilty person would say.” Allan squinted at Pim, then his attention turned to Charlie. “What about you?”

Charlie was glued to his phone at the moment. “Huh? What about me?”

“Have you been eating my yogurt?”

“Oh, those were yours?”

“I knew it! Of course they were mine! They had my name on them.”

“They did? I guess I just never noticed.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Charlie.”

“Whatever man, just… Oh, holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think I’ve finally tracked down Jombo. I actually did it.”

“What’s a Jombo?” Allan raised a brow in confusion.

“Oh, it’s um. This guy Charlie met at The Boss’s wedding.” Pim mentioned as he accidentally colored out of the lines. “Aw, shucks.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, I thought he was cool, like fifth smiling friend material cool, but then he ripped me off and ghosted me.”

“How did he rip you off?” Allan crossed his arms as he spoke.

“He sold him a fake knife. Like one of those plastic, retractable gag knives.” Pim propped his head up with his hand, looking over his coloring page and admiring his work.

“And how much did you pay for it?” Allan watched as Charlie worked up the nerve to answer him.

“…Six hundred dollars.” Charlie shamefully admitted.

“Holy crap, why? How did you even… Did you not realize it was made of plastic when you bought it?”

“Look, man, I was drunk off my ass, okay? You don’t have to rub it in all smug-like.”

“Oh, but I love doing that.”

“Yeah, I know you do.”

“Well I knew that you know I do.”

“Whatever! The point is, it doesn’t matter because I’m gonna get my money back. Every last cent.”

“I thought you said he deleted everything and moved to New Jersey?” Pim said as he watched Glep finish his coloring page, patiently waiting to turn the page until he was done.

“He did, but I found him. Every day since we saved the boss from that demon chick, I’ve been googling Jombo and lurking on forums and shit, and I just found someone talking about a pawn shop called ‘Jumbo Jombo’s’ that’s in Red Bank, New Jersey. It’s gotta be him.”

“So you’re gonna go visit him?”

“And demand my money back, yep.”

“What if he says no?”

“Well, I, uh… He probably won’t.”

“How are you going to get there?”

“I mean, I figured you could drive me there in the company car.”

“Ah, gee, I would if I could, Charlie, but I can’t. My license expired last week and I haven’t gotten around to renewing it yet.”

“Damn, that sucks. I can’t drive either, my license is suspended.”

“You don’t have a license.” Allan flatly stated.

“Um, yes, I do. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because it’s not true. I told you earlier; you’re a terrible liar.”

“Dude, I’m not lying.”

“Okay, then show me your license.”

Charlie stuck his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants and pulled them out to reveal they were empty. “It must be in my other pants.”

“Mhm. I’m sure it must be.”

“Get off my case, man.”

“…Glep, can you drive?” Charlie rolled a crayon in Glep’s direction to get his attention.

“Zweeezasaysbhav.” Glep brushed Charlie off.

“Glep‘a not allowed to drive no more. Not after the incident.” Allan explained.

“I’m not gonna waste my time wondering what that means.” Charlie sighed, heavily. “Allan?”

“Yeeees?”

“Could you drive me to New Jersey?”

“I suppose I could drive you with my real license that actually exists. But, what’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you a hundred bucks once I get my money back.”

“Make it two hundred and I’ll consider it.”

“Okay, sure, fine.”

“Are you sure The Boss will let us take the company car for this little endeavor?”

“I think he’s at a nude beach or something. That’s what he said, anyway. He won’t care.”

“Me and Glep can come too, right?” Pim asked, excitedly.

“Nah, somebody’s gotta stay behind in case we get a call to make someone smile. You can handle that on your own, right?”

“Um… I guess so. It shouldn’t be too hard! Right, Glep?”

Glep muttered some gibberish under his breath. He didn’t plan on helping Pim at all.

“Alright, let’s go.” Charlie said as he and Allan headed out the doorway.

Pim ran after them and waved goodbye. “Bye Charlie! Bye Allan! I love you! Byyyye!”

[roskirambles]

Halloween Short film of the Day: Claws for Alarm (1954)

Ah, the Looney Tunes franchise: an absolute goldmine of character interaction material. Between Bugs and Daffy, Sylvester and Tweety, or the Roadrunner and Wile .E Coyote, there's pretty much a guaranteed laugh going in. So what happens when the less iconic but still enjoyable duo of Porky Pig and Sylvester the Cat decide to spend the night during a trip? Unfortunately for poor Sylvester, the place of choosing is ghost town; the delapidated hotel called the Dry Gulch being hardly an inviting place with it's rundown appearance and creepy decor. But worse of all, for some reason, everything seems to want to kill them.

And of course Porky is oblivious to it all to his feline companion's chagrin.

Directed by Chuck Jones, this classic Merry Melodies short is the second entry in the "horror vacation" trilogy (the others being Scaredy Cat and Jumping Jupiter). And what an enjoyable spoof of the haunted hause archetype this is, with fairly imaginative imagery for the time that I have no doubt inspired some actual horror and horror comedies down the line because of how frightening it may be in a context where it's not played to make a nervous wreck out of poor Sylvester. Seriously, those mice behind the attacks look downright demonic in some shots.

There is some language from Porky that has aged like absolute milk regarding mental conditions, and typical for the shorts of this time some gags are a little too morbid for some modern audiences if thought as a children's cartoon. But man, the balance act between the strangely creepy imagery and Sylvester's failures in trying to convince the VERY foolish Porky about it makes it ideal for the season. Then again, the past short had basically the same premise. So...

Halloween Short film of the Day, part 2: Scaredy Cat (1948)

Yep, let's cover the two of them. I went for Claws for alarm first because it's a vivid memory of mine, but it's hard to not compare the two and even agree with many that find this to be the superior one. So let's get into it.

Sylvester and Porky end up in a creepy locale to spend the night. Though in this case, it's their new home: a creepy old mansion, where strange things start to happen when Sylvester spots what looks to be a cult of murderous mice. And as expected, Porky is none the wiser, treating the poor cat as if he was imagining things. At least until he's the one on the chopping block and it's the feline's turn to save the day.

Like I've mentioned already, it's not remotely hard to see how this is often the favorite among the two. Not only is it the original story of Sylvester being, well, a scaredy cat in a dangerous Halloween context, but less of the short has aged poorly and the comedic aspect is front and center (even if some gags once again venture into a truly morbid level of dark comedy). The production values are also higher, with more detailed backgrounds and complex animation, as the UPA inspired artwork of Claws for Alarm, while driving a more intensely creepy atmosphere, also looks quite flat by comparison. And while one has a rather creepy ending, the other is just a funny slapstick punchilne.

Honestly, it's easy to argue rereleases patching the two shorts together into a longer whole had something going, but both are quite an enjoyable ride if a short one.

[tyanis]

Resident Evil male vs female poll stats.

More record keeping for my dumb polls.

Kinda lengthy so stats are under the cut.

Wins: 10

Individual: Carnival Games Master

Team: Beach Volleyball, Shoulder Wars, Roller Derby, Baseball, Ghostbusters, Crop Circle Artists, Flag Football Team, Snowball Fight, Guest House Builders

Final Round Appearances: 22

---

Wins: 18

Individual: Most Annoying Memes, Bingo!

Team: Dodgeball, Best 80s Hair Metal Band, Orange Mocha Frappuccino Gang, Knitting Gang, Basketball Team, Bowling Team, Cheerleading Team, Haunted House Dare, Ghostbusters, Saved Rose from an Alternate Dimension, Soccer Team, Trapped in a Corn Maze, Figure Skating Duo, Hockey Team, Road Trip Survivors, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 30

---

Wins: 17

Individual: DDR, Surfing, Most Fair Rides, Horror Movie Connoisseur, Best Snowboarder

Team: Roller Derby, Safest Hiker, Baseball, Tennis Team, Cheerleading Team, Ghostbusters, Saved Rose from an Alternate Dimension, Neighborhood Vandal, Flag Football Team, Ballet Troupe, Guest House Builders, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 30

---

Wins: 10

Individual: School Napper, Best School Mascot, Ate The Most Fair Food, Ate The Most Halloween Candy

Team: Dodgeball, Basketball Team, Saved Rose from an Alternate Dimension, Soccer Team, Resolution Keepers, Guest House Builders

Final Round Appearances: 20

---

Wins: 9

Individual: None

Team: Shelf Building, Orange Mocha Frappuccino Gang, Baseball, Knitting Gang, Cheerleading Team, Ballet Troupe, Snowball Fight, Best Gifters, Resolution Keepers

Final Round Appearances: 18

---

Wins: 13

Individual: King of the Pies

Team: Dodgeball, Best 80s Hair Metal Band, Best Poets, Basketball Team, Bowling Team, Cheerleading Team, Crosscut Sawing, Soccer Team, Mountaineering Team, Best Gifters, Guest House Builders, Road Trip Survivors

Final Round Appearances: 26

---

Wins: 11

Individual: Monopoly Queen, Log Rolling, Musical Chairs Champion

Team: Roller Derby, Trivia Team, Tennis Team, Crop Circle Artists, Flag Football Team, Escape Room Masters, Ballet Troupe, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 17

---

Wins: 6

Individual: Most Superstitious

Team: Best 80s Hair Metal Band, Best Poets, Soccer Team, Figure Skating Duo, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 17

---

Wins: 23

Individual: Best Singer, Worst Sunburn, Biggest Bookworm, Chess Champion, Best Pumpkin Carver, Best Halloween Host, UNO Agony, Watercolor Artist

Team: Beach Volleyball, Shoulder Wars, Baseball, Trivia Team, Best Poets, Knitting Gang, Halloween Decorating Team, Haunted House Dare, Saved Rose from an Alternate Dimension, Crop Circle Artists, Flag Football Team, Snowball Fight, Best Gifters, Guest House Builders, Road Trip Survivors

Final Round Appearances: 33

---

Wins: 14

Individual: Pyramid Scheme Victim, Saw a Ghost, Turned into a Toad, Summoned a Demon, Halloween Mess Cleanup, Soup Chef, Cold/Flu Spreader

Team: Best Poets, Knitting Gang, Bowling Team, Saved Rose from an Alternate Dimension, Trapped in a Corn Maze, Hockey Team, Best Gifters

Final Round Appearances: 25

---

Wins: 9

Individual: Best Sand Castle, Cutest Cake, Least Votes

Team: Best Poets, Knitting Gang, Cutest Gingerbread House, Ballet Troupe, Snowball Fight, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 13

---

Wins: 4

Individual: None

Team: Cheerleading Team, Soccer Team, Resolution Keepers, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 16

---

Wins: 7

Individual: None

Team: Roller Derby, Safest Hiker, Shelf Building, Baseball, Halloween Decorating Team, Flag Football Team, Escape Room Masters

Final Round Appearances: 13

---

Wins: 9

Individual: Got a Lump of Coal

Team: Dodgeball, Haunted House Dare, Soccer Team, Brunch Brawlers, Hockey Team, Ballet Troupe, Resolution Keepers, Road Trip Survivors

Final Round Appearances: 22

---

Wins: 7

Individual: Best Streamer, Most Bug Bites

Team: Orange Mocha Frappuccino Gang, Knitting Gang, Cheerleading Team, Cutest Gingerbread House, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 20

---

Wins: 8

Individual: Late to School, Trapped in a Mirror Maze, Abducted by Aliens, Got Scammed, Unicorn Believer, Got Tongue Stuck to a Frozen Pole

Team: Soccer Team, Brunch Brawlers

Final Round Appearances: 14

---

Wins: 6

Individual: Followed a Will-O-Wisp, Stumbled into an Alternate Dimension

Team: Baseball, Trivia Team , Halloween Decorating Team, Snowball Fight

Final Round Appearances: 13

---

Wins: 14

Individual: Mechanical Bull Riding, Spookiest Campfire Story, Axe Throwing, Biggest Prankster, Most Questionable Snowman, Crack Fic Writer

Team: Best 80s Hair Metal Band, Haunted House Dare, Soccer Team, Brunch Brawlers, Hockey Team, Mountaineering Team, Guest House Builders, Van Repair Team

Final Round Appearances: 22

---

Wins: 6

Individual: MMO Queen

Team: Baseball, Trivia Team, Halloween Decorating Team, Crop Circle Artists, Resolution Keepers

Final Round Appearances: 10

---

Wins: 8

Individual: Fastest Tent Pitching

Team: Dodgeball, Best 80s Hair Metal Band, Soccer Team, Brunch Brawlers, Hockey Team, Ballet Troupe, Charades Winners

Final Round Appearances: 12

---

Wins: 4

Individual: None

Team: Roller Derby, Baseball, Flag Football Team, Snowball Fight

Final Round Appearances: 8

---

Wins: 6

Individual: None

Team: Basketball Team, Neighborhood Vandal, Soccer Team, Hockey Team, Ballet Troupe, Van Repair Team

Final Round Appearances: 11

---

Wins: 6

Individual: Chainsaw Wood Carving, Also Saw a Ghost

Team: Orange Mocha Frappuccino Gang, Baseball, Saved Rose from an Alternate Dimension, Flag Football Team

Final Round Appearances: 16

---

Wins: 8

Individual: None

Team: Basketball Team, Bowling Team, Crosscut Sawing, Haunted House Dare, Ghostbusters, Soccer Team, Mountaineering Team, Road Trip Survivors

Final Round Appearances: 13

---

Guest Character Stats:

---

Moira

Wins: 0

Individual: None

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 2

---

William

Wins: 2

Individual: Teacher's Pet

Team: Mountaineering Team

Final Round Appearances: 4

---

Excella

Wins: 0

Individual: None

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 3

---

Zoe

Wins: 0

Individual: None

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 1

---

Lucas

Wins: 1

Individual: Scammed Steve

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 1

---

Alexia

Wins: 0

Individual: None

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 2

---

Billy

Wins: 0

Individual: None

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 1

---

Barry

Wins: 1

Individual: Ugliest Sweater

Team: None

Final Round Appearances: 1

---

---

---

---

---

[unorthodoxsavvy]

do you still do those vibe check things?

if so...

@phantom-w0lfbane or @aspenonpawzzz

phantom-w0lfbane

aspenonpawzzz

Ice Cream Flavor:

Chocolate | Vanilla | Strawberry | Mint Chocolate Chip | Cookie Dough | Cookies and Cream | Moose Tracks | Peanut Butter | Cotton Candy | Superman | S’mores | Lavender | Blueberry | Melon | Citrus | Pumpkin

Pokémon Type:

Bug | Grass | Flying | Water | Fire | Ice | Electric | Rock | Ground | Dragon | Ghost | Dark | Fairy | Psychic | Normal | Steel | Poison | Fighting

Pride Flag Stripe:

Pink (sex) | Red (life) | Orange (healing) | Yellow (sunlight) | Green (nature) | Turquoise (magic/art) | Indigo (serenity) | Violet (spirit)

Greek Gods and Goddesses:

Aphrodite | Athena | Artemis | Ares | Apollo | Demeter | Dionysus | Hades | Hera | Hermes | Poseidon | Zeus

Supernatural Entity:

Ghost | Alien | Cryptid | Werewolf | Vampire | Demon | Angel

Cryptid:

Mothman | Bigfoot | Nessie | Jersey Devil | Chupacabra | Fresno Nightcrawler | Flatwoods Monster | Jackalope

DnD Class:

Barbarian | Bard | Cleric | Druid | Fighter | Monk | Paladin | Ranger | Rogue | Sorcerer | Warlock | Wizard

Time of Day:

Dawn | Morning | Noon | Afternoon | Dusk | Night | Midnight | The Witching Hour

Century:

1000s | 1100s | 1200s | 1300s | 1400s | 1500s | 1600s | 1700s | 1800s | 1900s

Decade:

1900s | 1910s | 1920s | 1930s | 1940s | 1950s | 1960s | 1970s | 1980s | 1990s

Month/Day

January | Feburary | March | April | May | June | July | August | Septemeber | October | November | December | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday | Saturday | Sunday

Aesthetic:

Cottagecore | Cabincore | Goblincore | Horrorcore | Scenecore | Trendercore | Kidcore | Lovecore | Fantasycore | Dark Acedemia | Punk | Goth | Webcore | Pastel Kawaii/Pastel Goth | Grunge | Theatrecore | Yellowcore | Honeycore | Vulture Culture | Vaporwave | Naturecore | Adventurecore | None/Other

[skellebonez]

Voices Heard In The Static

The second fic for @lunar-wandering's Monkie Destiny Challenge! I am doing 8 prompts per "week", sometimes using both prompts per day and sometimes just one. This one includes:

Night, Curse, Chaos, Shadow, Enemy, Stars, Ghosts, Bug

This one is actually a horror one shot, nothing super scary but I felt I should note it.

AO3 Link!

MK knew he wasn't imagining things. Someone was in his TV.

He heard them talking to him at night.

At first it wasn't to him, no. At first it was just general odd noises. The hiss of static after it turned itself on. A blip in the white noise. Maybe something that could have passed as some kind of signal coming through.

But MK knew someone was in his TV. They spoke to him last night.

He couldn't make out what they said, of course. It was too soft, too far away. But it was clear enough to him that it was a voice saying something. It had startled him enough that he had turned the TV off.

When he woke up the TV was on.

He didn't remember turning it back on.

It didn't turn back on before he headed down to work.

~

“Have you been sleeping?” Tang asked softly. “You look-”

“Exhausted, I know,” MK said with a yawn. “I have, just. Not a lot.”

MK frowned, making it a point not to look at the TV set up in the corner of the restaurant. It was off, no static in sight or to be heard. But he would SWEAR… he could swear he could hear the softest hint of a whisper.

This had been happening for at least a week now, the noise from the TV, only at night. But now he was wondering if it was starting to escalate. Did he really hear a whisper? Or was it his mind playing tricks on him, making him imagine voices where there were none because of what he had convinced himself he had heard the night before?

He almost managed to convince himself that he had imagined the entire thing before he woke up to his TV being on. In his confusion (and not fear, he was not afraid of noise from a TV) he had summoned his clones and asked them if he was forgetting something. If he had maybe slept walked (a first for him, as he had never done so before). Sometimes he could count on his clones to recall things that he was unable to consciously.

All of them agreed that he had not woken up and turned his TV back on in the night.

That left two options. SOMEONE had come into his room and turned the TV on, which... even if it was something like a prank? He couldn't see it being funny enough to anyone he would know for them to do something as simple as that. Or it had turned itself on.

He could have brushed it off as him maybe rolling over on the remote if he hadn't made sure to leave it on his kitchenette counter the night before... and it was still there when he awoke.

Delivery chiming in after a few seconds of silence to say he could have sworn the voice was saying MK's name did nothing to assuage his confusion and fears.

“I’ll be fine, Mr.Tang, “ Mk said after a few moments of awkward silence, the other man’s concern shining through his expression without anything else needing to be said. “I’ll go to sleep early, ok?”

He could tell that Tang was weary of believing him before he nodded.

“OK, MK. Just. Take care of yourself, OK? The last time you looked this tired things went a little sideways.”

~

MK stared at his TV.

It would eventually turn itself on. He knew it would.

There would eventually be some kind of sound. He knew there would be.

But tonight.

Tonight he would try to hear what that sound was.

What that VOICE was.

WHO that voice was.

He just had to wait.

In the dark.

With only the TV and the stars lighting his room.

He waited five minutes.

Ten.

Thirty.

By the sixty minute mark MK had made himself comfortable on the foot of his bed and was wondering if he actually made the whole thing up in his head due to getting slammed in the face during one too many fight with rogue demons. Or he had dreamed it up on the last night that he got a decent amount of sleep and mistook it for reality. Or, somehow, he was just losing it entirely. Maybe he was just genuinely hearing things that were not there and he needed to talk with the Monkey King about whether or not this was a side effect of his powers or ask Sandy for a referral to a therapist or-

“-K.”

... If it was a hallucination... it was a very convincing one. Then again, they usually were.

But there it was. That same voice he heard last time, the whisper he could have sworn he heard coming from the TV earlier in the day. Low and almost soft enough that if he had something playing on his phone he may have entirely missed it in the static and the noise. But it was THERE.

It was at this moment MK thought that, maybe if this was actually real, it may be best to have one of his clones with him. Safety in numbers and all that, plus they had seemed to have heard the voice as well.

It took him less than a few seconds to summon Delivery, the most calm headed of his main trio who might have actually done something should the moment arise. And the clone said nothing as he was summoned, taking in the heavy atmosphere of MK's bedroom and his memories and knowing that now was not the time to try to crack a joke to lighten the mood.

He did open his mouth to say something, but it was cut short when the voice sounded again. It was louder through the static this time and while neither of them could quite make out who's voice it was they could make out what it was saying.

“MK.”

Delivery had been right, that... that voice was calling out to him specifically.

The two shared a glance, neither wanting to make a sound or even move from their vantage point on the bed.

“L-... u-... t MK.”

That was new.

That was more than one word.

That sent chills up MK and Delivery's spines.

The static seemed to grow more intense for a moment and then darken in that intensity, the noise almost growing louder than what MK thought that his TV speakers could have been physically capable of. There was no way it could have gotten that loud, his

TV wasn't BUILT to get that loud!

MK yelped as he covered his ears, but it hardly seemed to make a dent in the noise that was assaulting him. Couldn't his neighbors or the people outside hear it? He expected someone to be yelling at him to turn it down, Delivery was TRYING to turn the TV down, but no other noise came but the static and for a moment MK genuinely feared that his eardrums would rupture and-

Suddenly there was an icy stab of pain in his head.

And then it stopped.

MK would have thought he'd gone deaf had his and Delivery's breathing not been so loud in his ears, not if the static of the TV hadn't turned back to it's normal volume.

“... Do you think it-” “LET US OUT MK!”

Delivery never  got to finish his sentence- the loudness of the static coming back in full force along with the new sound of screaming. So many screaming voices, screaming his name and demands and pleas and cursing his existence and suddenly they were THERE.

He couldn't even hear his clone's scream as he backpedaled off the bed, eyes locked onto the screen as his head throbbed in pain. They were there, they were all there, slamming their hands one by one against the glass of his television screen as if trying to break out of it, the blue and white of their ghastly forms shining through in detail his cheap screen could never replicate. Mayor and the spiders, they had never saved the spiders had they, never had the chance to and Lady Bone Demon absorbed them all and Mayor shouldn't he still be alive hadn't they set him free? Free, he was free right he had to be free but here he was in his TV face sunken and gaunt as if he had wasted away beside the spiders with their cracked chitin and sunken eyes screaming “NO, NO, DON'T LET HIM OUT HELP US PLEASE MK PLEASE” and SCREAMING screaming that he would get out and find MK and destiny DESTINY WOULD BE FULFILLED AND-

MK didn't realize that Delivery had grabbed him until the TV was smashed into pieces on the ground and he was carrying him out the door, blood dropping from his hands as they continued to cover his ears.

~

Sun Wukong found the Mayor a few days later.

They didn't know exactly what he had tried to do to regain his powers the Lady Bone Demon granted him, but the Monkey King assured him that it was dealt with.

MK decided not to get a new TV.

Just in case.

... but sometimes he could almost swear he heard something through the speakers on his phone, before he thought better of it.

[neverchecking]

My goodness, I have been reading all of your works! You have been keeping us readers well-fed. So let me leave this here. I may have gone a little overboard. My love for Hyrule may have gone a little overboard; I might be a little rabid 🤤🤩.

So quick warning this has yandere Hyrule, slight kidnapping?, baby trapping (no detailed descriptions), reader gets tricked majorly, fairy descriptions and habits, only Hyrule gets a happy ending

—————————————————————

So this has a lot of yandere writing, right? So I’ve been thinking and reading through all of your works and saw the increase interest in Hyrule which got me wondering, since he is so sweet, what would a yandere Hyrule be like? Then it hit me, Hyrule is part fairy/can turn into a fairy and what do human legends say about the Fae? They are possessive. There’s changelings and making deals with fairies and all other lore. The yandere personality actually fits his persona like a glove if his fairy-ness is exaggerated.

That being said, none of the chain really know about his abilities and Fae-like characteristics so they think he is just a gentle boy. BUT oh how wrong they are. It’s a facade, one he wears constantly while scheming how to get reader out of the others grasp. Kinda like hummingbirds, so if you don’t know some hummingbirds fly with such a distinct bug like pattern that other birds (even some competitive hummingbird species don’t associate them with being a bird, but think they are a large bug). He doesn’t register as a threat since reader just thinks he’s cute, and he heals everyone. He’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

He uses his kind and gentle fascade to learn all of their tricks and weakness (Four can split and knows the Minish, Twilight can shift into a wolf, Legend and Koholint, Wind can see dead people, Time and Twilight’s relationship, Time and Navi, Sky being the one to set off the curse, Warriors and Cia’s obsession with him, Wild seeing the ghosts of the previous champions-specifically that Mipha can heal him and Daruk a can shield him)-he is the biggest threat. He does this while getting closer to reader, slowly closer and closer. Maybe he flaunts his fairy-ness drawing her attention again and again, becoming readers confidant when she expresses her discomfort with the rest of the chain. He takes this vulnerability as a sign. That it’s time for him to make his move. He shares with reader that he is part-Fae/turns into one, he also tells her about his blood curse, to help gain her trust.

After comforting her, he manages to arrange (read:manipulate) reader to make a deal with him (cause his fairy powers can help! At least that’s what he tells reader). Reader thinks that since Hyrule hasn’t told the rest of the chain that he has an edge over them and he has a chance to actually help her escape (GIRL you don’t even know what’s coming). That he will help her escape the chain. Reader is kinda naive and does not know that you should never make a deal with a fairy (demon). The deal works out for Hyrule because the deal was specifically worded to “save the reader from the obsession of the chain”. But he can work with this, since if he is the only Link, it doesn’t make up a chain, so he could just separate them from her and keep her as his own and keep the terms of the deal.

Hyrule is not only responsible for healing the injured with his magic, but he also manages all potions since he is the groups healers; he also liberates and convinces the bottled fairies to help him and not the others. So he waits for the perfect moment, the chain go into battle with a group of strong monsters, he and reader are in the sidelines. He incapacitates reader with a sleeping potion (something to keep her out of the chains immediate reach).

After the battle, each of the chain are injured, not seriously, but enough to need healing. Hyrule gives them potions that hurts them. It’s at this moment that Hyrule goes to take out Wild with his lightning spell before he tells the chain they were poisoned (because Mipha revived him from the poison). The others trusted him implicitly and ingested his potions;they now realize he is trying to kill him, they manage to knock him back and search for the bottles fairies only for them to back Hyrule (and his lovely reader). It’s at this point that Hyrule reveals his Fae form to the chain (he has his wings and his eyes look extremely unnerving) and the rest of the chain realize they’ve been tricked. Hyrule goes and picks up the sleeping reader and flys off with them (Hyrule is either regular sized or he shrinks reader) wearing a large smirk, he tells them “Did you expect anything less from a Fae protecting his goddess. She was, is, and will always be mine. You were too stupid to realize it the entire time that she was already mine.”. He leaves the chain struggling with their lives with the sounds of monster reinforcements coming.

Hyrule flys off to a Great Fairy fountain asking for their support, protection, and transport. The Great Fairy manages to transport them to another Hyrule, in case the others survive and try to find him and to protect reader from his blood curse. The move in location will make it hard (essentially impossible) to locate them safely. He doesn’t need any more danger in their lives. In this new Hyrule (kingdom), he locates another Great Fairy fountain and seeks her permission to build a home near the fountain, right outside of it because he intends to have the Great Fairy and all of his sisters watch over her (read: keep tabs on her). Reader still doesn’t realize Hyrule has tricked her yet, and since they are tucked away at the Fairy Fountain, Hyrule became the only person she knows (he never takes her to castle town by telling her that this Hyrule is extremely dangerous and they are safest at the fountain and why would she doubt him, the rest of the Chain said his Hyrule was the most dangerous and inhospitable, he would know best). At the fountain, Hyrule acts normal, since they are surrounded by the Great Fairy and sisters.

Hyrule begins to actively court her, since they only have each other and his sisters. He wants to build a family with her, and presents it as setting down roots. Reader has no one else, and is actively courted. They marry and reader gets pregnant soon after. He is absolutely thrilled and loves her so so so much! He always wanted to have a family, his Hyrule made it too dangerous, but here he could have kids! He reassures her that since they are in another Hyrule, there is no risk of the blood curse, since no one knows of it here, so there is no risk of danger to the babies. Reader would never tell anyone about it either since it places a target on her kids.

It is at this point, when reader wants to go to castle town to get some supplies for their baby that she realizes that Hyrule has tricked her. He offers to go for her, to keep her safe, but she wants to go herself (it can’t be that dangerous! She hasn’t seen anyone else in years!) he loses his composure and tells her no she needs to stay at home and that she will never leave, especially now that they’re expecting. Reader realizes she has effectively trapped herself around Fae that have control over her; she will never be free.

She decides to make the best of her situation (read: all hope of freedom is lost since she has kids and she wants to keep them safe). She stays at the fountain caring for her kids with Hyrule (there is no other adult to talk to). Little does she know that Hyrule also plans to establish their home as a new Great Fairy Fountain where they can live together forever…

Hundreds of years later, there is a legend that there is a Fairy fountain that is especially kind to Hylians. Travelers that venture to the fountain have mysteriously disappeared, never to return to castle town. However, there are sightings of the missing Hylians alongside some winged Hylians? But that’s just a rumor, right?

Turns out Hyrule’s kids take after him and his courting methods. A half-Fae family line has now been established and is flourishing.

Hyrule may not be the strongest fighter amongst the Chain, but he is the most cautious (thanks to his Hyrule), and has always known that those that play the long game tend to win more than the short sighted impetuous opponents. He may have lost hundreds of small battles (regarding readers firsts with the chain) but he has decimated the competition, got the girl and won the war. His legacy is a testament to this.

—————————————————————

Hope this was good! I did my best! I have never written yandere before and have always thought that there is something especially dangerous about a calm and quiet yandere…especially a fairy one🧚.

Also can I be 🍭 anon? Or 🌲?

Peace✌️

🍭anon it is! Welcome to the party! Can I just start off by saying-

HHEEIDNDNIDNSNES THIS WAS SO GOOD? yOU JUST FED ME A FULL COURSE MEAL AND DESERT. i AM LICKING THE CRUMBS OFF THE PLATE.

omg I just-

Hyrule being the secret villain in this all is just so delicious. This is a whole rhjrjrj I just can't get over the planning and the execution because, yeah, Hyrule's fairy side gives him that edge that no one, not even Sage, can have. They can have things that can possibly counteract it, but if they don't know about it, they how can they be expected to know how to defend against it?

And with Hyrule being the group's healer, he is in one of, if not the best, position to take them all out. One by one. Either by letting infection set in or using the injury to weaken the others before finishing them himself.

And who's going to look twice if the potion is just slightly discolored. It's what happens when their left sitting for two long. Their fine. Taking out Wild first, is so smart because realistically? (Using just the OG chain) is the more resilient to everything, especially poisons. You know how much shit he ate when he had no memories?

Hyrule would for sure take Reader to a Great Fairy. their loyalty lies with him more than anyone else. Including other Links.

And when they know he has his heart set on this person, they're locked in. The fairies have no grasp on normal Hylian courting rituals. Just on what Hyrule tells him. And Hyrule spins it. Exactly the way he wants it.

And when their swollen and pregnant and all his? He knows he's won.

And when his kids follow in his footsteps and establish a royal line? One that lerks in the shadows just enough to make their presence known, but not enough that anyone can pinpoint their location. And even if they did?

Who can really stand against the fae and fairy kind anyway?

[unofskylanderspages]

Did you know? In the earliest alpha build of Skylanders: Giants, Darklight Crypt is the only Expansion Level present. It exhibits a few oddities:

Large clusters of small, invincible, neutral Rhu-Barbs are scattered throughout the beginning of the level. In the Normal World, they turn into pots of red flowers, which can be destroyed.

The moving blocks' patterns have already been updated to align with their final Giants version, and the Necropolis's theme has likewise been updated to play during Occulous's boss fight.

Ghost Roaster's Soul Gem remains in its Spyro's Adventure location, but his preview video cannot be played.

The level's Story Scroll appeared as a runic tablet, complete with its full text and voice lines. The "Draklight Crypt" typo was fixed.

A bug causes the screen to rapidly flash black during the first Lock Puzzle dialogue, similar to the flashing effects in early versions of Drill-X's Big Rig. None of the level's Lock Puzzles can actually be completed, preventing the player from advancing by normal means.

The Stump Demons, Chompies, and Chompy Pods appear as in Spyro's Adventure, but they do not attack and cannot be attacked by the Skylanders. In some places, the level's regular enemies are missing, and none of the living Shadow Knights/Shadow Dukes appear.

The Fire Gate's entrance remains identical to the version in Spyro's Adventure. Its rippling heat effect has been added to the game by this point.

The Cowboy Hat and Pirate Doo Rag appear in place of the level's regular hats.

This version of the level includes an area called "Forest Walk," which encompasses the first large block puzzle.

The Flamingo Legendary Treasure still remains in its previous location from Spyro's Adventure.

The Stump Demons at the final battle will walk and roam around, but will not attack the Skylander.

Completing the level brings up the level completion menu from Spyro's Adventure. Due to the addition of extra Treasure Chests in Giant's alpha, this number can potentially rise to 8/3 chests collected.

[neriyon]

WoLs and FFXIV OCs

Hawu'li Puu • Keeper • 23 • he/him • WHM/SMN “Prelude in Violet” • Beloved main blorbo and the Warrior of Light. Cheerful, talkative catboy healer who loves food and the world. Wants to help everyone. Goodhearted but rather naiive. Bad with money. Will try to eat things not meant as food. Separation anxiety, cannot be left alone for too long. Part of a trio of co-WoLs who he met when first leaving Gridania. Gay and poly, usually shipped with various npcs. Server: Lich

Maito Tee • Raen • 19 • she/her • BLM “Of Stranger Shadow” • Oldest alt, originally made to be another WoL. Currently reclassified as a semi-retired Scion (she might be young but she’s way too tired of all this shit). Moody, introverted lizard girl who’s bad at expressing her emotions. Often comes across as rude or angry. Quick to resort to violence (“fire IV your way out of troubles”). Likes fancy desserts and soaking in hot springs. Currently taking time off to relax and spend time with family. Lesbian, not really shipped with anyone rn. Server: none

Yusui Kuura • Raen • 26 • he/him • AST “Finder of False Gods” • Maito’s older half-brother. Smug and provocative lizard with questionable morals who’s favorite way to pass time is to annoy others. Working in Glass Camellia - shop that’s antique store on paper but in reality sells various merc services for clients willing to spend the gil. Likes quality tea, peaches and strong reactions to his provocations. Rarely knows when to stop on time and ends up injured. Insomniac. Bi, possibly demiromantic - only shown romantic interest to his 2 childhood friends. Server: none

N'jinh Tia • Seeker • 27 • he/him • DRG/NIN “Imperial Nuisance” • Selfish, lazy cat who’s main talents are flirting and sweet talking. Prefers getting others to do things for him while napping in a nice spot, surrounded by expensive stuff given as gifts. Can’t swim, hates moogles. Mostly grew up in Garlemald. Worked as an imperial palace servant, sold bunch of secret info over to Eorzeans, got caught and had to run. Bi, no fixed ships currently. Server: Spriggan

Currently being reworked!

Naho Mewrilah • Keeper • 23 • she/her • DNC/BLM “Flamelady” • Selectively mute catgirl who likes dancing and performing. Bright, energetic and very free spirited. Grew up on a pirate ship, is currently travelling the land to see other cultures like her adventurer mother did before her. Great with animals. Scared of bugs. Friends with Maito. Bi, her relationship status is honestly a mystery. Server: Phoenix

Chiluku “Chili” Gharl • Xaela • ??? • he/him • DRK “Shadow of the Other” • Shy, anxious and clumsy max height au ra. Strong enough to carry huge sword around all day, but will accidentally knock over your flowerpot with his tail and then cry while repetedly saying sorry. Born as Kagon. Got kidnapped by garleans as a kid for having echo, devoleped “Sen” (Esteem) as a young adult and managed to fight his way out. Currently working as a bodyguard-for-hire in Glass Camellia. Bi, currently not dating anyone. Server: Moogle

Einn • Rava/Veena mix • ??? • he/him • RPR “Gatekeeper” • Viera who appeared from the forest during the events of Endwalker. Generally polite and princelike, but clearly avoids talking too much about his past. Sometimes gets strong personality shifts based on moon phase - he’ll get more aggressive, before dissapearing into the woods for a few days. During this time he’s known to cause trouble to anyone who dares enter “his” forest. Possibly tempered. Works as a gleaner post-EW. Gay, sometimes shipped with Erenville. Server: Twintania

Momoka “Momo” Komori • Raen(?) • ??? • they/them • SAM/NIN “Lullaby of a Departed Soul” • Mysterious nonbinary auri who pretty much counts as a cryptid. Appears randomly and leaves just as quick. Seems to have no loyalties towards any living being, though them appearing usually means there’s some ghost or demon involved. Part demon themself, often seen with huge white snake called “Emi”. Sexuality and relationship status are a mystery. Server: Twintania

Yulan Castalia • Veena • ??? • he/him • crafter/pictomancer "At Art's Horizon" • Introverted and a bit shy viera lad with a fondness for flowers, mammets and creating things. Mainly working as a goldsmith, but can do most crafting jobs - just don't ask him to cook. Likes to paint. Can't swim. Often hides when forced to talk to unfamiliar people. Temperamental and a bit of a tsundere. Gay, not shipped with anyone yet. Server: Zalera

Firn • Rava • few thousand years • he/him • Sword mage (pld x rdm) "Of Unbreakable Oath" • Cold, knightly viera with demeanor almost as icy as his namesake. Originally hailing from the Sixth, one of the rejoined shards, he is taken in to work with the ascians after the destruction of his home. Generally very aloof towards others, but for some reason seems to attract small animals. Fiercely loyal with a strong sense of personal moral code, he seems to now wander Eorzea in search of the reincarnation of a mysterious past charge, whom he seems to barely even remember. Server: Alpha

Edited 24/1: Added Firn and Yulan and marked N'jinh as under rework.

[unforth]

@sharkfish are you sure you want to know? You're going to hate it.

Okay so last year, @/selpuku, who is an artist for several fandoms I'm in, posted this

on Twitter. They specified in a second comment that they meant primarily Moshang, which is a ship between Shang Qinghua, who is a book author who dies, wakes up in his own book as a baby, and then grows up to adulthood in the book, so who is at least 50 years old probably older, and Mobei Jun, who is a character in the book and a very powerful demon who Shang Qinghua spies for and, well, there's too much to explain succinctly but there's probably a 30 year age difference but Shang Qinghua doesn't realize at all that Mobei Jun is (in canon this is) interested and it takes a while for them to figure it out. The power dynamics are complicated; Shang Qinghua is older and basically created the entire book verse, but in-verse he's fairly weak and Mobei Jun could pretty easily crush him like a bug if he wanted to (but instead, as the pic says, Mobei Jun wants to rail him so bad).

Anyway, so far, so fandomy and normal for fandom.

But then.

Someone Quote-Retweeted it to scream about how "reverse grooming" was not a ship dynamic and it was disgusting and all the usual anti crowd jumped on board. I've got OP for the reverse grooming post and basically all the other involved people blocked so I can't find many receipts now (and finding anything older than a day on Twitter is nearly impossible anyway) but in the replies to the "reverse grooming" post a whole bunch of people went off agreeing and sharing all the examples from danmei especially that they felt reflected this supposed dynamic where a younger person somehow "grooms" an older one into a relationship. They especially went off on Hualian, which is the relationship between Hua Cheng (an 810 year old super powerful ghost) and Xie Lian (an 817 year old super powerful god). Because they met when Xie Lian was 17 and Hua Cheng was 10, they are a ripe target for the dumbest takes ever. Antis split between what's going on here, it's usually either "its pedophilia because Hua Cheng was only a kid when they met" (never mind that they get together literally 800 years later) or "Hua Cheng is an obsessive stalker and his behavior is abusive" (never mind that between about the time when they're 23/16 respectively and 817/810 respectively they literally don't see each other for 800 years). Their actual dynamic is more like fan/celebrity, where Hua Cheng is embarrassed everytime his fannish behavior (note: no not Finnish behavior, autocorrect, lmao) is revealed, and Xie Lian is always super chill about it, and they fall in love, and happy otp feels abound.

So yeah people antis decided that Hualian was the quintessential example of this so-called "reverse grooming" dynamic since Xie Lian was obviously not an abuser but they're positive in their vibes read that the relationship is toxic so therefore one of then MUST be the abuser which means Hua Cheng must be the abuser. and there's also initially an age difference and since antis only have like three insults to hurl at ships they don't like and "pedophilia" obviously didn't apply (since Hua Cheng is younger) and incest didn't apply (since there's zero way they could be related) and grooming didn't apply (since Xie Lian didn't have a hand in raising Hua Cheng, though there are absolutely antis who think the opposite, that Xie Lian is the abuser of the two and is a groomer etc) anyway the point is if none of those is the problem it's time to invent a new term for what happened and that's "reverse grooming" where the younger one "grooms" the older one into a relationship the older one wouldn't have wanted otherwise.

Even quite aside from how utterly unsupportable this is in canon, it's still absolutely batshit. Of course it's possible for younger partners to abuse older partners and even manipulate them into relationships but even considering that, "reverse grooming" is still a batshit way to refer to such a dynamic.

Anyway this exploded on danmei Twitter, and beyond that even, for about a week.

Now you know. You're welcome. And sorry.

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

The things we leave behind: FURY

A postgame Headspace AU set in the ruins of a discarded dream. In part 3 of 6, Aubrey faces her demons. This AU is easily the most indulgent thing I’ll ever write for this fandom, but I just rly needed to see more interaction between Omori and Sunny & sometimes u gotta make ur own food.

Sunny opens his eyes in an empty void. No ceiling. No walls. Just empty white as far as he can see in every direction. The silence is deafening. How did he survive for years on only this? How and why?

(Stupid question. Of course he knows why. This is the only place he could escape himself. The only place where he could still see Mari.)

He sits up. On the other side of the void, Omori is hunched over his old laptop.

“Finally,” Omori huffs, unfolding to his feet. “Can we go?”

Sunny opens his mouth to say something agreeable. His mouth says, “Where’s Mari?”

…Oh. He didn’t mean to say that. But now that he has, he doesn’t want to take it back. He wondered about it the whole night, the last time he was here. Mari wasn’t at any of her picnics. Omori said she was okay, but—what does that even mean? How can she be okay if she isn’t here?

Omori glares. “None of your business.”

“But—”

“Do you love your friends or not?”

Sunny’s questioned a lot of things over the years, but that was never one of them. “Yes.” Obviously.

“Then let’s go.”

###

Pyrefly Forest is a bloodbath.

It was always a ghost town. A horror story still unfolding. Melancholy scales in minor keys, plinking up and down a phantom piano. The silhouettes of dead and dying trees, choked by cobwebs and shrouded in fog. When you looked at them too closely, they almost seemed to move.

But this is different. This isn’t a graveyard. It’s a massacre.

The ground is littered with corpses. Not human corpses, thankfully—it’s crushed bulbs and shredded leaves, not cooling viscera—but vaguely appalling nonetheless. Strangely, the forest has never looked healthier. The leaves on the trees grow thick and glossy. The bark on their trunks shines steely gray.

Sunny squints toward the nearest picnic blanket. Empty. Like all the rest.

“So,” he says, testing the waters. “Mari’s not at the picnics.”

Omori doesn’t answer.

“But you said she’s okay.”

A curt nod.

“Can I see her?”

“No,” Omori says coldly. “Any more stupid questions?”

Yes. Definitely. A lot. But he doesn’t want to push his luck. “...No?”

“Good.”

###

They find Aubrey by the Weeping Willow’s spring, playing whack-a-mole with half the population of Sprout Mole Village. In lieu of her bat, she’s swinging a ludicrously oversized crowbar, a flashy cartoon weapon in a distinctly different artstyle. Maybe she brought it with her?

When she spots Sunny, she throws an arm up in greeting. “Yo, what’s up! You wanna help me smash these weird rats?”

Sunny darts a glance at his alter ego. Omori’s eyes have gone round with wonder. He obviously didn’t expect Aubrey to be so buff. Or so heavily tattooed. Or so… pink.

“She’s pretty cool, huh.”

“Die,” Omori says immediately.

Sunny gives him a knowing look.

Omori counters with a withering glare. “We might need back-up… Wait here. I’ll call Kel.”

“That’s not a good idea.” Whatever’s going on with Headspace-Aubrey, Kel is bound to make it worse. When Omori just stares, Sunny grimaces. “Aubrey’s… easily embarrassed.”

“What? No she isn’t.”

Sunny can’t help laughing. “You might not know her as well as you think.”

“You might not know what you’re talking about.”

“Two Sunny’s, huh?” Aubrey asks cheerfully. Both of them jump. In the time they were arguing, she must’ve closed in. “Cool, cool. So, were you guys gonna help me fight these weird bugs or not?”

Sunny looks to Omori, who rolls his eyes. “Just make her come with us.”

###

As Omori leads them through the fog, Aubrey elbows Sunny. “So… what’s with the sidekick?”

That gets Omori’s attention. He whips around with both hands curled to fists. “I am not his sidekick.”

“Hah! Oh, man. I forgot how much of a brat you were at that age. You remember that time Kel spilled juice on your sketchbook and you made him sit in the corner?”

“...No,” Sunny lies.

“You made him a dunce cap! Oh my god, he wore it for hours. And when he asked if he could take it off you said— You said, Do you think you’ve learned your lesson? And he said—”

Sunny can’t hold back a snort of laughter. “He said no.”

“He totally said no!!! Oh my god, what a fucking moron. Whoops. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t cuss in front of your inner child.”

“I am not—” Omori sputters.

“Aw, c’mon, Sunshine,” she tells him, one-handing her crowbar so she can mess up his hair. If Sunny tried something like that, he’d lose that hand. But apparently Aubrey gets special treatment. “You know I’m just playing. Can you blame me? You were fuckin’ adorable. Like an angry little kitty cat.”

Omori’s face turns red, then white. He glares at Sunny. “Make her stop.”

Sunny shrugs. “I’m not her supervisor.”

“And thank god for that,” Aubrey agrees. “Hey, so where are we going, anyway? Between you and me, I’m pretty sure this isn’t real.”

Sunny’s gone back and forth on that himself. “I don’t know. Omori?”

Omori doesn’t answer.

“Pfff,” Aubrey snorts. “Silent treatment, huh? Now I’m getting all nostalgic.”

Sunny can practically see the steam rising from Omori’s ears. “You should probably stop messing with him,” he tells Aubrey. “He does have a knife.”

“Aw, Sunny. It’s so cute that you think you could get near me with that thing.”

“I’ve done it before,” Sunny sniffs.

“Only ‘cause you took me by surprise. And it was two against one. Totally doesn’t count.”

“Will you two shut up?” Omori hisses over his shoulder. “Or do you want to get eaten?”

Sunny’s eye narrows. As far as he knows, there isn’t anything in Headspace that eats people. Or at least, there didn’t used to be.

Aubrey opens her mouth to argue. But before she can get a word out, a deep, rattling snarl rumbles through the trees. Even with its source far out of sight, Sunny can feel it buzzing in his chest.

Aubrey’s eyebrows go up, and her mouth clacks shut.

###

The further they walk, the louder the growling gets. Sunny walks a little closer to Aubrey. He’s increasingly convinced that he knows who’s making all that noise.

At the Pyrefly Pluto stop, just south of what used to be Sweetheart’s Castle, Omori finally stops. That rattling snarl isn’t in the background anymore. It’s loud enough to shake the ground under their feet. The grass is littered with dead leaves, shaken from their branches by sheer sonic force. The air is thick with the scent of decay, musty and sickly-sweet. The forest is barren. All the trees here are dead.

“Wait here,” Omori mutters, and darts ahead. In an instant, he’s swallowed by the fog.

Aubrey elbows Sunny. “Dude. What’s the deal.”

Oh. “Sorry. We’re—um. You’re… dreaming.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. There’s not usually two of you.”

…Right. “And we have to go—do something. Talk to someone, or… something like that. Like a quest.” As cover stories go, it’s not very inspired. But it is more-or-less true.

“Uh huh,” she says. “But like. Why?”

Ugh. Of course Aubrey wouldn’t just go along with it. She was always going to be harder than Kel. “We just have to.” No, that’s not going to work either. Aubrey doesn't take orders from anyone. “I need you to?” he tries. “As a favor. …Please.”

“Well,” she drawls, smirking a little. “I guess if you need me.”

He rolls his eye at her. “Really it’s Omori. The other one. Oh. And you should probably stop calling him—”

“Shh,” she hisses, stiffening. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“In the trees. It was— I thought I saw something.”

Something. But does that mean— Could she be talking about—

Sunny’s heart leaps. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but he can’t help it. He misses her so much. He whips around, scanning the treeline for a familiar silhouette. Long and dark, with one glaring white eye.

A blur of motion flits between the trees. Lightless, eyeless. Almost formless. Just a shadow among shadows. He only sees it for a moment before it vanishes, lost to the surrounding dark.

When he turns around, it’s looming over Aubrey.

(In Sunny’s memories, the Stranger is just a black-and-gray version of Basil. He wasn’t even scary, really. Just lonely, and sad, and strangely magnetic. Wherever he appeared, Omori couldn’t help but follow.

But Sunny isn’t running Headspace anymore.)

The Stranger’s limbs have lengthened, stretched sapling-long and pencil-thin. When he stands half-hunched, his knuckles scrape the grass. His fingers, hooked like talons, are tipped with jagged claws. His legs don't end in feet, but cloven, pointed hooves. And there’s something hanging from his neck. A loop of slick black rope. It drags behind him like a rat’s tail, heavy and unnervingly greasy.

“You,” the Stranger hisses, close against Aubrey’s ear. His voice is like spider's legs. Like dead leaves over dry bone. “You remind me of sss-s-someone.”

Omori materializes out of the fog with his knife already drawn. “Easy, Stranger,” he says warningly.

Aubrey doesn’t flinch. She might as well be carved from stone.

“You aren’t afraid,” the Stranger cackles. “Eh-hehe-heh-he. You were always-s-sss braver than the ressst of us.”

“Wait.” Aubrey’s eyes widen. “Basil???”

The shadow lets loose a wild laugh. “Ohhh, you are interesting, aren’t you? Mmh… Such an a-a-angrrrry little bunny.” When he stutters, his neck clicks and jerks like bad claymation. “A r-rrrRRRHhrr-rabbit hunting wolves. And now you’ve found them.” He twitches closer, breathing down her neck. “You want me to hurt you, don’t you? I can s-sss-smell it on your ssskin. All the things you think you deserve.”

“Stranger,” Omori says again.

“Eh heh heh. Ohh-h-h, calm down, Omori. I'm not here to break your toys. I was only sssaying hello.”

“We’re looking for Aubrey,” Omori says calmly. In the background, the real Aubrey looks confounded. “She isn’t in her fortress. Do you know where she went?”

“I know where ev~eryone is. The princess-s-ss is out hunting. Rabbitsss,” with a savage grin for Aubrey. “Glutting on blood and sinew and s-s-ssssucking the marrow from their little bones.”

Omori doesn’t back off. “Where?”

“I could take you,” the Stranger whispers. His smile is a knife-wound. It slits his face from ear to tufted ear. “But she won’t s-s-ssee you. She hatesssss us.”

Omori gestures impatiently, like that goes without saying. “Just tell me where to go.”

###

“What the fuck,” Aubrey says succinctly, after the Stranger sends them on their way.

Sunny isn’t listening. He’s too busy trying to catch up to Omori. “The Stranger. He’s not not all messed up. Or—not as much. Not like Kel.”

Omori doesn’t slow down. If anything, he walks even faster.

Sunny lets out a frustrated breath. “Omori.”

“What.”

“Why isn’t he all messed up?”

Omori huffs irritably. “He’s another exception. Obviously. Like Longlegs. And me.”

“And Mari.”

Omori doesn’t answer.

“He didn’t sound different,” Sunny mumbles. He didn’t even act different, really. “But he looked—”

Omori whips around with his teeth bared. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want everyone to stay exactly how you left them? This place isn’t yours anymore, Dreamer. You left. You don’t get a vote.”

Sunny frowns. Does that mean that Mari’s different, too? Is she even still his sister anymore? Or is she just another monster? “Is that what happened to—”

“You don’t get to ask me about Mari.”

“Um,” Aubrey cuts in. When both of them turn to glare, she laughs nervously. “Heh. Uh… Sorry to interrupt, I guess? I just had a question.”

“What,” Sunny says impatiently.

“Uh. I guess basically… What the fuck?”

“Shh,” Omori hisses, grabbing them both and yanking them back into the bushes. “She’s close.”

###

A flurry of rabbits streams past, a river of white fur and terrified eyes. Crow scatter and screech. The trees tremble.

And then they see her.

Captain Kel was swollen to Looney Toons proportions, but at least he was recognizably human. This creature is decidedly not. Sunny can tell, because humans don’t typically grow as tall as a fucking house. And they’re definitely not supposed to be covered with plush, feathery pink fur.

The monster’s eyes are huge and dark, but the light that glitters in its pupils glows an unnerving blood-red. As far as Sunny can tell, it’s not any one animal, just a chaotic jangle of monster parts: rabbit’s haunches and ram’s horns and a colossal crocodile maw of shark’s teeth, all smushed together into the world’s ugliest chimera. It looks like what would happen if you put eight tertiary predators in a blender and set it to puree.

Filmy threads from Aubrey’s old nightdress still cling to the monster’s paws, and the entire front half of its body is spattered red. Its round, lizardlike muzzle is drenched in it. But the ribbon Mari gave her is still pristine, tied in a neat bow around her neck. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

Sunny looks at Omori. Omori nods.

Sunny just stares. Because—what? What is he supposed to do about this? Aubrey might be tough enough to come out on top of nine out of ten bar fights, but even she can’t take down a monster the size of a school bus. It doesn’t even look like her. Except for the bow, maybe. And the eyes.

But when he turns to see how the real Aubrey is doing, her face is gone cold. Her fists are clenched, her jaw set.

“So,” she says darkly, once the monster’s lumbered out of range. “That’s the quest.”

It isn’t a question, but Sunny answers anyway. “Yes.”

“It’s me.”

“...Yes.”

The breath hisses through her teeth. “Right. Sure. Of course it is.”

Omori looks taken aback, but Sunny is barely surprised. Aubrey was always more self-aware than the rest of them. She isn’t like Kel, who’ll only take a good hard look at himself if you take his head in your hands and make him. Aubrey sees to the heart of things. It’s why she was so quick to recognize Stranger, even though it took Sunny years and years.

Besides. Aubrey might be all grown up, but that doesn't mean that she can always see it. It’s all too easy for her to see herself in a monster.

Sunny frowns and tugs on her elbow. “It isn’t really.”

“Hahh?” she demands, twisting around to glare. “Which one is it?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. “It’s just a piece,” he tries. “Not even a big piece.”

Aubrey softens. “Y-Yeah. I know. Sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Okay,” she mutters, and shakes herself off. “Okay. So this is, what? Some kinda vision quest? Hunting my inner demons, or some shit?”

“...Something like that.”

“So why are you here? Fucking, twice, I might add?”

Sunny shrugs.

“‘Cause it seems like it’d be a guilt thing, but—if I’m honest, I feel way worse about Basil. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Hrmm.” Aubrey holds her frown for a moment longer and then rolls up her sleeves. “Well. Whatever, I guess. Fuck it. Let’s go kick my ass.”

For once in his life, Omori looks genuinely moved.

###

They stalk Kaiju Aubrey—(Monster-brey? Monbrey? …He’ll keep working on it)—back to King Crawler’s clearing before regrouping at the picnic.

“So I pretty much just hit her on the head until she dies, right?” Aubrey asks cheerfully.

Omori chokes.

“Not exactly,” Sunny snickers. Ideally, she’d stop before Beastbrey died. (Beastbrey, he thinks. That’s not bad.) “Um. Try not to kill her.”

“You sure? ‘Cause that sounds a lot easier.”

“Pretty sure. Yeah.”

“Suit yourself,” she yawns. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to kill monsters, though.”

“She’s not a monster,” Sunny mumbles.

“Pfft. Right. Good one.”

He frowns at her. “You’re not—”

“Aaaand I think that’s enough with the heart-to-heart, thanks! Can we please just fight?”

###

So, they fight.

Headspace-Aubrey made her lair in King Crawler’s old grotto. The grass is littered with sprout mole husks and rabbit’s bones. But the surrounding forest has never looked healthier. The trees here are violently lush, with glossy leaves and thick strong trunks. The grass grows long and perfectly key lime-green.

At the farthest end of the clearing, Beastbrey is splayed languid, gnawing the bones of her last meal.

The bulk of her body is blunt and barrel-shaped, like a boar’s. But those powerful, tightly coiled haunches would look more at home on a jackrabbit, or a frog. Two colossal silver ram’s horns curl from either side of her head, and her thick coat of fur is run through with slender, translucent spines—like a hedgehog’s, if hedgehogs had spines all over their bodies.

To Sunny’s surprise, there aren’t any claws on her front paws. Instead, each leg ends in a blunt, chitinous protrusion of bone, like the head of a mallet. Or like the monster is wearing very uncomfortable white mittens.

While Omori sifts through his inventory, Sunny sidles up to him. “Omori. I really think I should have a knife.”

“Cool. I guess you should go find one.”

But they both know that Omori has artillery to spare. Sunny frowns. “Are you mad at me?”

“Not everything is always about you,” Omori says coldly.

Since Aubrey showed up already armed, she doesn’t need to borrow a weapon. But Omori does thrust a CHARM at her. It’s one that Sunny doesn’t recognize, a pastel-pink headband adorned with a huge silk gladiolus.

“Aw,” Aubrey snickers, amused but clearly also touched. “For luck?”

“Something like that.”

She slides it on, pinning her bangs back from her face. “So? Is it cute?”

“I don’t know,” Omori mutters.

“Sunshine?”

“Totally,” Sunny says promptly. It suits her, actually. It’s flashier than the pins that Basil wears, but then again, so is Aubrey. “Gets a little lost in your hair. Maybe a different color?”

“It’s not for fashion,” Omori hisses. “Never mind. Let’s just get this over with.”

READ THE REST OF CH 3 HERE: archiveofourown.org/works/45213322/chapters/126779419

OR START FROM THE BEGINNING: archiveofourown.org/works/45213322/chapters/113743957