#heavy-duty metal fabrication

[metalmanautoltd]

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[metalmanauto]

Reliable Heavy-Duty Metal Fabrication for Trucks | OEM Parts Supplier

We provide reliable heavy-duty metal fabrication services for trucks and other heavy vehicles at Metalman Auto Ltd. As an OEM parts supplier, we ensure that every component meets industry standards for strength, durability, and performance.

[santechsheetmetal]

How to install Cantilever Racks in your garage?

It’s crucial to carefully adhere to the manufacturer’s instructions and suggestions while installing custom-made heavy-duty racking systems in your facility. Before installing, abide by all safety regulations and read the instruction booklet carefully. Most importantly, ensure all storage rack installation is done by trained professionals familiar with local safety rules and regulations. To learn more, visit our website today.

[our-trans-punk-experience]

THE BATTLE JACKET MASTERPOST

FINALLY PUNKS IT'S HERE

a battle jacket (also called battle vest, cut-off, punk jacket, patch jacket, and probably other stuff) is a jacket (duh) usually made from denim or leather with DIY additions of patches, studs, flags, painted panels, chains, and other bonuses, used to signify subculture. Punk, metal, and biker scenes all use patch jackets, but I'll only go into specifics about how they're used in the punk scene. Metalheads, I think, almost solely personalise with music/band shit. Bikers use them to signifying which club you're riding with. Punks started using them in the 70s and they've remained a staple of the subculture's style since. They're good for signalling your politics, bands you like, and other information you might want to get across. They also look cool.

HOW TO START

If you're here I assume you wanna learn how to make your own so I'll cut the history lesson short and get on to the practicals.

1: first you're going to want to get a plain jacket, probably denim or leather, but you could get a canvas jacket if you're nervous and new to the scene because it's way easier to stitch canvas, so you could experiment with that as you're building confidence. The jacket should be at least a bit oversized because with all the stitching and painting or whatever you'll be doing, you could run into fit issues with a very form fitting jacket. also, this jacket might frequently be worn over other jackets or layers so that will help with that too

2: start making choices. namely whether you want to keep the sleeves. obviously you can remove or reattatch the sleeves later but I think making that big mod first is a good starting point to help you feel like it's a work in progress. so if you're going to chop the sleeves I say do it now

3: brainstorm. I know, I know, coming up with your own ideas is hard, but this is your own totally literally unique piece, so think about what sorta look you want

4: you don't have to brainstorm alone though. search tumblr or pinterest for punk jackets, punk patches, punk clothes ect for inspiration. you might get a good idea for an individual patch, or for a broader layout

PATCHES

1: the big deal. this is what will make your jacket into a battle jacket. there are some unofficial rules/sayings in the scene about what sort of patches you should put on your jacket. some people get dickish sometimes about if you put a non-punk band on your jacket? however i think that is bollocks and you should do whatever you want forever. one saying i do personally mostly stick to is "politics up front, bands on the back" with the idea you stick your politics on your front so you can see the punches coming

2: where do you get the patches? you make them yourself. You can buy ofc but don't get shit off amazon or shein or whatever the fuck. If your fav band or small artist is selling patches go for it though. You will have the most choice if you make your own patches. Do you have scrap fabric (maybe the sleeves of the jacket, which is where i got a lot of my patch material)? Do you have paint and paintbrush? good. you can make a patch

3: how do you do that? well depends on whether you stencil or freehand. stencil means you cut out an outline, of say a band logo, out of card, and use that as a stencil. freehand means you paint whatever tf you like

4: paint?? yes paint. messy as you like. start maybe with simple slogans or symbols often found in the punk scene like "ACAB" or "eat the rich". maybe an anarchy symbol. i also like to paint a layer of mod podge over my designs to waterproof them.

5: great, you've got a patch, what are you going to do with it? sew it onto the jacket. unless ofc you bought an iron-on in step 2, in which case iron that shit on and be careful punks. most likely though, you're sewing it on. a lot of punks use tooth floss to sew on because its cheaper, easier to find, readily waxed and waterproof, and does a better job sewing shit down onto heavy duty material like leather or denim. I use a combined running stitch and whip stitch personally

STUDS n SPIKES

1: all those punks you've seen have metal sticking out their jacket eh? yeah, theres a whole lot of options here. spikes of many different sizes and shapes, which within that can be stitch on, screwback, or have fold down prongs on the back of them

2: where do you put them? probably the front or top of the jacket. you can put them on the back but that might be uncomfortable, or rip up someone's upholstery

3: where do you get them? you can still DIY these by cutting up a metal drinks can [whole other post] but BE CAREFUL. i suggest checking out the internet for these, same buying rules as patches though. no shein. no amazon.

OTHER SHIT??

1: go wild

2: other common additions would be chains, lighter caps, badges, and can tabs

HAVE FUN PLS ASK ME QUESTIONS AND SHARE IF YOU START A BATTLE JACKET

[k1ngpin42]

POV: 𝘼𝙗𝙗𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧r- (mini fic)

Warnings: Dating, public 18+, dominant Abby, fingering

You, Abby, Mel, Manny and Whitney are sitting at a table in the WLF base. You and Abby aren’t allowed to be paired together on patrols anymore after Mel snitched about the time she caught you two fucking while on duty. To be fair, though, the door of the room you two were in had been locked from the outside, it wasn’t your fault Mel didn’t knock. 

Anyway, not being able to see her throughout the day was fucking with you. Images of what you two would do the night and morning before you’d go on patrol, things you two used to do at any available moment on away missions. Against the wall when the other soldiers turned their back, on the floor, against an old car,  on the table where you and the others would plan routes around seraphite camps, one time you even fucked while in a room full of clickers. (It was the most terrifying orgasm you had ever experienced if you’re being honest with yourself. Still amazing though.)

She sits down and the tension is immediate, you’d let her take you right here and now if she asked.

“Hey love, how were your assignments today?” She asks. Fuck. You didn’t know what was up with you today cause you were fucking wet at the site of her.

“What? Oh, yeah, it was alright…” You say, eyes scanning her body. You hear the others talk indistinctly and your gaze immediately drops to her hands.

“Did you really have to invite the game nerd?” You hear Mel whisper. You roll your eyes.

“Whitney’s my friend, Mel, don’t be a dick.” You tell her bluntly, and Whitney looks up at this. Mel looks at her with a guilty expression.

“Whitney I didn’t mean….”

“Oh it’s okay Mel. I can just sit by myself like I usually do.”

“Nonsense, you’re with us.” Manny reassures.

Once this drama clears up, Abby and Mel start telling the others stories about their mission today. Various jokes and exaggerations. None of this was relevant to you, though, cause for the love of everything holy, you couldn’t focus.

You watched as she enhanced her story with hand movements, her laugh was a melody in your ears, her voice a chorus. The veins on her hands were still prominent, she must have had to beat up some form of enemy, usually runners. Or maybe she had been lifting something heavy.

A smile smile pressed your lips at the thought of that. The thought of her big arms straining, she would groan slightly before the metal crate behind a door would move and she’d let out another satisfied sigh. Fuck. Those arms, those hands, you needed them inside you, on you, you didn’t care which. 

“He grabs the EMPTY gun and points it at the woman. She’s got a fuckin club or something and he says….well, something in Spanish.” Abby explains to the group who have been intently listening, making you feel slightly bad for zoning out.

“ Estás acabado, cabron. You are finished, asshole.” 

“Haha…nice.” Abby replies, taking a bite of her food. She looks over at you, who is still too focused on the way the vein on her right hand is more prominent than on her left. When she notices this, she smirks. That same cocky fucking smirk when she knows that, once again, she’s read you like a book.

“Hey so, that new training manual you read, what was it again?” She asks you as she slips a hand on your thigh. You’re wearing baggy blue jeans and even with them on you feel heat trickle down your spine.

“Oh the one about long guns? Well…the main premise is about rounds.” She moves her hand so it’s cupping your cunt through the fabric. 

“I-“ You clear your throat. “Each gun has a unique gear that allows the rounds to move more fl-“ Abby cautiously unzips the jeans. “Fluidly.” You explain. She starts teasing your pussy with her index fingers and painting your clit with slick.

“Have you tested it out on a gun? The upgrade?” Abby asks, watching you with an amused expression as she increases the pace.

“Wh-at…oh um, yeah.” You stumble over your words.

“Ah well you can come improve my weapon, do you know how many times this gun has been stepped on? I’m surprised I can put new rounds in at all.” Manny laughs. Your eyelids flutter as she puts her two middle fingers inside you and circles your clit with her thumb. She does all this with her left hand, not even taking her eyes off of the group, she doesn’t have to. 

How does this not make her uncomfortable? How does the fact that our whole friend group will watch you cum work for her in any way?

“Only if you gi-mm~” You stifle your moan with your hand.

“You okay?” Mel asks you. You nod.

“Just tired, I was gonna say, only if you give me a….ah~ a good gun too since he always hogs them all.”

“I do not.” He laughs. 

Fuck, Abby’s hands rubbing you feels fucking insatiable but you need to be alone with her, you can’t stand how embarrassing this feels. You want her to fuck you till you can’t breathe, not tease you in front of people you have to interact with on the regular.

“I might go to bed early.” You say, attempting to push Abbys hands away. She grabs your arm tightly and gives you a warning look.

“Aw don’t be silly, we’ll go when you’re finished.” She pauses. “…Eating.” Abby adds, increasing her pace as well as the pressure on your clit. Fuck, you could scream at how good it feels. You want to scream. 

“Who were you with today baby?” Abby asks. Fuck you could kick her right now. She’s clearly doing this on purpose to hear you make a fool of yourself in front of her your friends. It won’t work, you try to convince yourself.

“Um, I don’t know, it was me, two guys and a girl. The girl was dating one of the guys so me and the other guy did most of the patrolling while they probably, I don’t even know, did each other or something.” You explain, enjoying the feeling of her thick, warm fingers. Fuuuuuuck.

Mel looked guilty again. She always did, maybe this is just her resting face?

“I’m sorry that you and Abby can’t go on patrols anymore.” Mel utters, quietly. You roll your eyes but before you can even think to be annoyed at her, Abby pushes just the right place and you let out a gush of satisfied air.

“Agh~ all good.” You say, keeping your composure fairly well. Abby rewards this by easing up slightly and you instinctively buck your hips forward. 

“Do you prefer hot places or cold?” Abby asked, and at this point you’re forcing your eyes open. 

“What?” You ask, bitterly. Fuck you’re painfully close, you’re so gonna hit her when this is over. 

“Abby…” You whisper to her, her smirk widens, cocky prick.

“Did you say something baby?” You sigh and poke at some of the food on your plate. 

“Hot. I don’t like the cold or the rain, snow’s the only…f….um, exception.” You breathe out. Abby can tell by the look on your face that you’re cumming and she tilts her head, admiring you.

“I prefer the heat too. It’s always hot in Mexico.” Manny says, his voice just a murmer as you see colours through your eyelids. Holy fuck, you’d give anything to let out a loud moan right now. 

“I’m actually pretty tired too, I think we’re gonna turn in early.” Abby explains to the others. Mel nods and Manny looks mildly disappointed, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Have a good night.” Whitney says with a warm smile. You nod and Abby helps pull you up. You bite back a wince at how sensitive it feels to have your legs together and you hurry with Abby out of the hall.

“Abigail fucking Anderson.” You warn, simply. She smiles, kissing you playfully on the cheek.

“Yeah?” She asks. You punch her arm lightly. 

“Do you like making a fool of me? All our friends saw-“

“Did you like it?” She asks, that seductive and almost arrogant smirk still evident on her pretty fucking face. You roll your eyes. She kisses your neck and leans in to your ear.

“I bet you were thinking about it. My hands, my fingers, I was just giving you what you want.” 

“Yeah but…I mean at dinner? That’s just torture.” 

“Aw.” She says with fake sympathy. “Want me to make it up to you?”

°..·°¯°·._.· 🎀 >.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°🎀 >-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hello Hazel!

I'd like to request for a Protection ritual for Il Capitano with lavender, black tourmaline and frankincense please!

Thank you and take care!

Evergreen (the unexpected), Black Tourmaline (safety, shielding), Frankincense (confidence) Il Capitano x gn reader | Protection Ritual warning: listen --- I make no excuses (also am I a Capitano girlie??) -- uhhh, reader gets a head injury, Il Capitano being demanding, reader held in arms and manhandled a bit (this is SFW but somehow inappropriate?)

Your bones rattled as the mitachuri's ax connected with your spear. The impact shoved you through the loose dirt leaving a scratch of determination in its wake.

Using what dwindling strength you had, you shoved back hoping it would be enough power to buy you time to escape. It managed to throw the brute off balance, but not for long.

Pivoting, you twisted and bolted toward a line of sharp rocks. If you could reach them, they might provide enough of a shield to keep you safe. Unfortunately, a reaction of electro and cryo exploded to your right, pitching your world and sending you flying through the billowing grass. Your head slammed into the ground, stars flared in the midday sun.

You coughed, gasped violently, and laid on your back. Everything hurt.

The shadow of the mitachuri blocked out the sun, its massive, looming figure sending a wave of adrenaline through you. Bending to your side, you pawed through the grass in search of your weapon but before you could grab it, the monster snatched your leg and pulled you toward it. You kicked, but it did nothing.

Fear stole your senses and you stared in stilled horror as its weapon barreled toward you. Your vision clouded. All you remembered was a biting wind, crow feathers, and the sound of someone's voice telling you to hold on.

---

Warmth. Inviting, powerful warmth roused you from the black. You tried to move but the pain in your head warned you to be still. Groaning, you turned into the scent of freshly fallen snow.

"You've awakened," someone hummed above you. A crips timber and aged depth. You tried to open your eyes but it was too bright. "Ah, one moment. There, try now."

Haloed light formed around your blurry vision. The scene came back to you in flashes. A flaming ax, a crystalized blade, and the frame of someone you didn't recognize. When your vision adjusted, you found yourself gazing up at a man shrouded by metal and fabric.

"Ouch," was all you managed to get out.

"It's likely you hit your head. Try not to move."

"Head."

"Do not worry. I have things under control."

You twisted your neck and saw a battle raging on in the distance. Close enough that you could hear the cries and bashing weapons. Instinctually you reached for your own.

"Did you lose something?" the man asked, his free arm repositioning above you as if to help. You wanted to respond but your head was heavy, filled with a fog you couldn't clear. It lulled to the side. "Now, now, stay awake." Powerful fingers gripped your chin and turned you so he could look at you. "You cannot sleep now."

"But ... I'm tired," you mumbled, slurred, and winced at the oncoming pain. You wanted to throw up.

"You will stay with me, do you understand?"

You grimaced, lips curling into a frustrated pout. The man groaned and jostled you awake.

"Il Capitano, sir," a new voice sounded beside you, grating, painful. You whimpered and tried to turn away from it but the hand on your chin refused to let you.

"What is it?" Il Capitano asked, his attention on you never wavering.

"The numbers are thinning out, what would you have of us?"

His fingers pressed into the soft of your cheek, the action forced your lips apart. "Assist the people. See they do not come to harm."

"But - sir." Il Capitano snapped his head to the scout and an uncomfortable silence followed. "Yes, yes sir."

You could hear their shuffling feet, displaced dirt and gravel as they ran back toward the fray. You wanted to fight.

It was your duty.

Where was your spear?

"Are you eager to fight with them?"

Heavy, tired eyes looked at the man with a hidden face. In the swirl and distortion, you swore you could see the outline of something beneath. The edges of a jaw, the silhouette of a nose, the curve of lips. In your daze, you lifted your hand toward him but he captured your wrist before your fingers could touch him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, but it didn't really sound like a question. Something in his tone changed. "How strong is your delirium, little one?"

You stretched your fingers and brushed against something warm. The man's grip faltered allowing you to run them along what you assumed was his lips. They moved right toward the corner of his mask but where warmth once was, cold suddenly appeared.

Il Capitano stole your hand and returned it to your chest, but he lingered, his thumb running along the back before fading from your senses.

"Tired," you repeated and fell against him.

"I have not yet given you permission to sleep."

"Give it to me."

The sound of battle roared to life while the stranger known as Il Capitano held you in his arms. You couldn't see his eyes, but you felt their pressure, their intensity. Your head fell back so he grabbed your chin and gave you a light shake. "Tell me your name."

And you did.

He requested and you provided, and when your mind began to recover, your world found itself one Fatui Harbinger larger.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[blood-smiles]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓...𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃

Long ago, it was said that humanity thrived together as a whole in peace and harmony, they all went to the same places and had similar experiences, they shared and traded food and items, the peace was always kept because of laws, the air was pure and the water was clear and tasteless, complete perfection.

But where was that now? It’s the year 2313, it’s been a long time since that chapter was ripped from the ancient book of humanity,

You wrapped a mask around your head, clicking your tongue as your fingers fiddled with the leather buckles of the mask,

After a struggling with the mask for a few seconds you finally succeeded in fastening the item to the back of your cranium,

The thick belt wrapped around your head and behind your ears, the borders of the leather digging into your skin and leaving an aching red imprint on your head,

You steadily got up from your couch, walking over to the deserted shopping cart in the corner, putting your hands around the cart’s bars and lifting it up from the floor, putting it back on its wheels as it used to be,

You rolled the cart around your laboratory, listening for squeaks or strange sounds, when you made sure there wasn’t any problems with the cart you put it aside momentarily,

You ran over to one of your counters as snatched a pair of goggles from the metal surface,

Securing them on your eyes as best you could, your hands grabbed the flimsy fabric of your coat and pulled up the hood, you were all geared up and ready to go.

Your hands gripped the bar of your shopping cart, your eyes scanning the inside of the empty shopping cart, the once silver metal was oxidizing, slowly turning into a murky brown tint,

you pushed your cart through your run down town, waving at acquaintances and kicking little pebbles out of your way,

This is how your everyday life went, around 5 p.m you would get geared up and go into the junk yard to look for unwanted “trash” from Ether,

most of the time what you found wasn’t even trash, maybe a little worn down, but these people were throwing away full shampoo bottles and moisturizers! You wish you had that problem..

Ether was the island above the slums or better know as “the pit”, Ether was known as the place only peasants like you could wish they could end up there, which wasn’t ever going to happen,

Only the richest of the rich or elite are allowed up there, and the people down in the pit were uneducated and poor, having nothing more than a button and a few pieces of clothes to their name,

Truly pitiful, and you were no different, the only thing you had was a run down laboratory your father left behind,

He was supposedly a smart man, one of the first developers of the species known as “Androids” yet none of his work was given credit towards him, which ended him up here, in the pit.

You knew how to repair an android, but coding one was beyond your abilities, you worked as a handyman for a few silver coins, that’s how you went on about life,

You developed your skills as you went, and apparently the only note worthy trait you had was your ability to salvage broken things,

You kicked away some trash with your muddy boots, the rubbish flying far away and into the piles of trash,

“Fuckin’ trash..” you complained under your breath, your heavy duty boots clinging to the sticky mud underneath, making unpleasant squelches in the mud,

The sound of clanking was heard when the piece of trash hit a surface, your ears immediately pricked up,

Whipping your head into the direction of where the trash fell, you immediately let go of your cart and jogged over to a pile of crap,

You stepped onto the unsteady heap of trash, your knee beginning to buckle under your own weight, warning you that you were about to loose your footing,

You fell forward, wind brushing by your ears as you began your descension , sticking your arms out, you braced for the impact,

with a loud clank you landed on top of a scrap of metal, your hands laying on a hard, cool material, you pushed yourself off the object to get a better look on it,

it seemed to hold a humanoid shape, but it by no means looked like one, instead of a face it had a screen, which was pitch black and roughed up, split right through the middle, nothing you couldn't fix.

It didn't have the look of a typical android, it seemed like it was missing its silicone skin, a normal android look closely alike to a human, this one looked more like a robot,

Its body was large, made of a sturdy material, despite having no muscles it did have something alike to it but made of steel, the shine being dulled by the dirt,

your eyes trailed to its chest, which was steel, a shocker. It seemed to have a symbol on its left pectoral in an electric blue tint, while its right one seemed to have a name tag, but the letters were scratched off, what looked deep jagged scratches on its chest, whoever did this either didn't like their name or didn't want anyone to see its real name,

that logo.. That was the logo of the best android engineers in Ether, Its obviously an android, but its strange that they would throw out androids,

your eyes wandered down the android's body to its legs, which were missing, cables poked out of the holes where its legs were supposed to be,

you rand your hand down your face, where were its fucking legs? You couldn't take it home without its legs! You put the Android's upper body on your back, then letting it slip off your back and into your shopping cart with a loud bang,

you began to look around, lifting rubbish with the tip of your shoe, peeking under all surfaces until you saw what seemed to be a foot poking out from a pile of soggy cardboard,

you pulled out the limb with your whole body weight, the sheer height and thickness of that single limb was impressive, the leg stood in height about where your waist was,

you tossed the heavy limb in your shopping cart with the Android, you walked around for about 40 minutes, looking everywhere for the other leg,

just when you were about to give up you tripped over something, looking at what made your hit the ground, you realized it was the leg you were looking for,

your heart beat happily in your chest as you pushed the heavy cart back to your house lab,

you had a dopey grin on your face the whole way home, you couldn't help but have a pep in your step, you were already thinking of how you would name your new Android,

"(Y/n)? O-Oh! It is you! How are you, sweet pea?" You could recognize that voice anywhere, if it wasn't the the village doctor!

You turned around, smiling widely at the man, still in his clad white uniform, hair tie slipping down his long ginger hair, and those characteristic cracked glasses, it was Kairo.

"Heya Kairo! 'm good, jus' pushin this home.'" You waved to him weakly, your calloused hands tired from pushing the cart,

Kairo jogged up to you, stopping only inches away, he brought a hand up to his face, his cheeks adorned with alight dusting of pretty pink,

"I recall asking you to rest, didn't I? You better have a good reason to be wearing yourself out like this.." the ginger scolded, crossing his arms across his chest, his magenta eyes staring you down something alike to a mother’s disappointed gaze,

Kairo was an absolute blessing to have down here in the slums, he was the doctor and used to be a scientist, his knowledge in both fields was greatly appreciated, especially since it seemed the world had it out for you and your physical well being,

he got kicked out of Ether many years ago, you were about 13 when he got dropped in the pit,

He really stirred the pot when he got here, no one even tried getting closer to him due to their reluctance about him and his origins, no one here trusts those who were born in Ether,

Kairo got pushed away, glared at, kicked and even sometimes people spat on him, no one really knows what he did to get him off Ether,

Yet it is still a fact that even if the others have warmed up to him, they still treat him exponentially different from the other habitants of the slums,

you were the first and only one to extend your hand out to him in times of need, you gave him a safe haven when he needed it most, and just for that fact he has sworn to always be with you, through thick and thin, he will protect you and put you back together time and time again, just how you loved him, he will love you back tenfold.

your smile turned bashful, wiping your sweaty hands on your shirt you started trying to recount the events of today,

"..So then I decided to take him home to repair him back up! He's in pretty good shape, I jus need ta' wire his legs back on then fix his screen, give him a lil' bath and I will be done with him!"

Kairo looked back at the robot with narrowed eyes, a dark shadow casting over his pale features,

you felt oddly unsettled by his sharp gaze, this side of him was completely unknown to you, and gee was it scary.

"..Where did you find this thing?" He asked—no, demanded, his voice dropping an octave lower, the sharpness of his tone wasn't quite directed at you though, but more at the robot in your cart,

"Uhm, I found him in the Junk yard.." You rasped out, your throat feeling constricted, words barely audible out of the feeling of fear you had, this mood of him was awfully uncharacteristic of him, it really creeped you out,

Kairo seemed to notice your state, the last thing he would want was to make you fear him.. for now, he will let it go.

"I see.." the taller male responded, a tinge of worry in his voice "Well, all I ask of you is to be careful, you don't know where it came from, and personally, I don't want to see you hurt.." He hugged himself, looking off to the side shyly, his gloved hand reaching up to twirl a strand of his cantaloupe colored hair around his finger,

the carefree smile you had earlier started returning as you saw Kairo softening up again, you were glad he wasn't upset at you,

you ran up to him, momentarily leaving your cart and new companion behind to give him some affection,

your arms wrapped around his slender waist as you cuddled his chest, your cheek pressed up right next to his heart,

Kairo's breath hitched, a kaleidoscope of butterflies going off in his guts, the wings of the small insects making contact with his insides, the pleasant feeling didn’t help the flush in his face spreading like a wildfire,

his longer arms wrapped around your neck, hugging you closer to him, he pressed his lips against your forehead gently, intentionally catching a whiff of your hair's scent, ‘my sweet baby.. You really don’t realize what I feel for you, do you?’ His eyes fluttered closed, long eyelashes ghosting over his tired under eyes,

these were the moments with you he could kill for, he would do anything to be this close to you always, skin to skin, heart to heart, and hopefully one day, lips to lips.

The ginger reluctantly let go, crossing his arms once again as he gazed at your retreating form longingly, his mind couldn't help but wander back to that specific Android, dangerous thoughts leaking into his brain continuously like a broken faucet,

"If you do something to her, I will rip your fucking head off.."

But you on the other hand were giddy as fuck, you had already unloaded the android and sat him down on your lab counter,

lifting his left leg up you propped it below the wires hanging off the holes of where his legs were supposed to be in,

you connected the wires carefully, melting them together once again, soon you connected the legs into his hip socket, a loud clicking noise let you know you did the job correctly,

you did the same with his right leg, another loud click reached your ears, you pulled on the legs as best as you could from different angles, and they wouldn't budge, not a single creak or sign of the limbs wanting to detach from the body anymore,

and with that you moved onto the cracked screen of the head of the android,

you somehow managed to seal the cracks and give the mask a polish to leave it looking good as new, you were pretty satisfied with the results,

you scrubbed off the dirt and grime off the metallic protective plates, you scrubbed and scrubbed every single crevice of its body until the robot was spotless and shining under the dim lighting,

he was beautiful.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest, anxiety coursing through your veins, sweat beads ran down your skin, dampening your shirt,

you opened the back of his cranium, cables wrapped in metallic material linking to the back of his head, a blue power button inside all the wires and mother boards inside, green and silver peeking out from inside his head,

you pressed on the button, then stepped back, crossing your fingers that he would come to life, you clasped your hands together in prayer,

buzzing came from the Android, limbs twitching, sparks coming from its joints,

soon, the screen on its "face" lit up, something alike to a smiley face being displayed on the black screen,

it looked down at its hands, closing and opening its fists, kicking its legs, it realized it was alive once more, that it was moving and that it was okay,

you didn’t know how to react, should you be happy? Scared? It was all so conflicting, you wanted to jump out of happiness but at the same time you wanted to run away, cry and vomit.

It turned its head to you, the gentle sound of ticking coming from deep inside his metal plates,

The sound of its metallic feet hitting the murky ground startled you, making you jump violently, you would have jumped out of your skin if it came closer,

It seemed to stop when it saw that you were scared, and so it stopped, it stared at you, not moving an inch from it place,

slowly, it extended its long arm, opening its robotic palm and holding it out to you, (e/c) looked down at its hand, analyzing how his joints popped and twitched,

you were starting to regret taking the massive machine home, Kairo was right, this Android totally had something off about it,

but even as your common sense screamed at you to stay back and run away, it all was drowned out by the overlapping thoughts buzzing in your head,

how much could this thing sell for? It was modified, Obviously, it was crystal clear that these modifications had been done illegally,

you carefully put your smaller hand in his own, you looked up at the screen that was his face warily,

“a-ah..” the android made a noise, was his voice box broken? You tried repairing him as best as you could, but his voice box was something you unfortunately didn’t know how to repair,

he pointed a finger towards you, tilting his head while making more noises,

“ah.. ah?” Was it asking you something? It gently tapped your arm, pointing at you,

oh. It was asking you for your name.

“oh.. You can’t speak, can you?” It shook its head, putting it hand on its throat to emphasize,

“well.. I’m (Y/n), and.. It’s nice to finally meet you..?” You coughed into your fist as you finished, awkwardly shifting from side to side,

an emoticon of sorts appeared on the metallic male’s face visor, it seemed… happy?

“Aaah?” It pointed to itself, looking down at its name tag, only to realize that it had completely scratched off,

it stayed silent before looking up at you, gently guiding your hand to its chest, where it’s name tag once resided,

“..You want a name?” It nodded, pointing to itself once again,

“..I actually was thinkin’ about what to name you.. Welcome to the world, Exo.” You gave it a toothy grin, watching as how the screen visor of his suddenly showed a blue glowing heart,

It took you by surprise when the droid grabbed onto you by under your arm pits, lifting you up to his height,

you watched as how the glowing blue heart on his visor beat like how a heart would, and it only seemed to be getting faster,

it brought you closer to it, holding you like a baby, it rubbed its cheek(?) against yours, the uncomfortable friction of its glass screen making contact with your own,

And that’s when you heard it, a low rumbling sound resounded from its chest, the vibrations melting against your skin,

is he fucking purring..?

“I’m glad— urgh.. you liked your name..” you barely made out, trying to create some space between both of your bodies, however the bot wouldn’t move a centimeter away from you,

after pleading with it, he decided to put you down,

it gently pat your head, before putting its hands on its knees to observe you more closely,

“uh.. Okay, Well.. You can just follow me around, I want to see how good of a job I did at fixing you..” and with that you walked out of your laboratory,

a larger hand grabbed onto your sleeve, you already knew who it was so you didn’t spare him a look,

you let him grab onto your sleeve, the cool feeling of it’s metal fingers making contact with your skin,

Exo didn’t know what to make of things, he was especially surprised when he woke up to a little human greeting him,

he couldn’t see anything, but from the noises and fleeting touches around his body he could tell that someone was trying to fix him up,

and then he could see everything, from the little scars on your skin to the exact shade of your eye color,

his memory board felt empty, he tried to remember, but his mind was a blank slate, it was like trying to squeeze water from a stone, impossible.

but one thing he did know was that he was eternally indebted to this cute human, Exo wanted to assume that this was his creator, but he knew better, his real creator didn’t care about him,

he knew he was thrown off somewhere high, he didn’t know when or from where, but just that action showed him that whoever created him had no care for him,

But.. You took the time to fix him with your caring hands, you didn’t have any obligation whatsoever to even touch him, but you did,

from looking down at his own body he could tell you spent countless hours polishing his body, not even a crevice of his body had a single spot of filth,

his joints were smooth, his movements were swift and elegant, something he never thought he would be able to regain,

you might as well be his owner now, you are so small.. So frail, he looked down at you and he felt this inexplicable feeling of wanting to grab you and cradle you like a human baby,

your smaller form was so comfortable to hold in his arms, he could accommodate his body to your liking,

he understands that his chest isn’t the most comfortable, under the heavy metal plating there is soft layers of silicone that could help with trying to make you more comfy against his body,

he wished nothing more than to communicate with you, to tell you how much he appreciated you and how he wished to serve you in the way you served him,

but the only type of noise that made it out of his mouth (?) was pathetic moans and sighs, that was no way to communicate with you,

He heard the voice of a man earlier, his sensors picked up on his heart rate, it was.. familiar, he knew that rhythm from some where.. but he can’t quite remember from where,

this mysterious man’s heart beat spiked up as soon as you approached him, his breathing turned slower and heavier,

Exo heard you call out to that man, apparently his name was Kairo.. the android repeated his name in his mind, Kairo, Kairo, Kairo.. That was an unusual name..

then he spoke, and his voice hit home, he still had no idea who this man was, but his hate for him tenfolded,

Exo hated how he spoke to you, his voice was so warm and welcoming towards you, pure love and adoration in his tone, he just knew that man wanted to shove his tongue down your throat, repulsive.

but Exo has claimed you long ago, ever since you picked him up and ever so gently put him into your cart he had vowed to be by your side,

‘Kairo’ directed his tone towards him and Exo didn’t like it one bit, his tone was so sharp, the iron-clad Android could feel the intensity of ‘Kairo’ on him, his eyes feeling like they could burn through the thick layers of metal of his body,

Then he felt a warm calloused hand on his shoulder, gently running up and down the ridges of his armor, that touch made him melt into a puddle of goo,

making him forget about the developing grudge against Kairo,

however he knew that wasn’t going to be the last time he would see him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Several days had passed since you had booted Exo’s system up, and it was safe to say that the last days had been nothing but bliss,

it was like he was lying on cloud nine, he started to believe that he had been blessed by some force and sent you down, it was nothing less than euphoria.

You, however had to head into town, and Exo could never dream of making you go alone, never in a millennia would he allow that,

So he decided to accompany you, his large hand clasped around your own, your hand gently grabbing onto his pointer finger,

Exo kept a close eye on you, trying to sense of something was amiss, your heart beat seemed steady, your glucose was normal and your oxygen levels were okay,

he wished he could just carry you so you wouldn’t need to walk, he wouldn’t want to wear down your fragile bones!

but you refused his offer.. you said that you were ‘too old for that’, Exo really didn’t want you to be embarrassed, he decided to let this slide— for now.

his steps were heavy behind you, loud thumps being heard when his mechanical feet hit the ground,

you were pushing your cart through the dust and dirt, while Exo was carrying your backpack and money, who were comically small compared to his large and broad body,

you snickered to yourself as you looked back at him for a split second, he seemed to notice, suddenly his screen lit up, a blue heart blinking on the screen,

“a-ah..” he moaned out, tilting his head close to his right shoulder, you really wished you could understand the damn thing, but it seemed to be able to communicate through moans and exhales,

“Ya know I have zero idea what yer sayin’, right?” You sighed as you looked away, your cart wheels getting jammed on a rock out of nowhere,

it had you clicking your tongue as you bent down to pick the rock out of the old wheels,

the bot bent down to assist you, kneeling right next to you, there to help you if you needed anything,

“(Y/n)! What a coincidence! It has been a bit since we have last spoken, you aren’t running away from me are you?” The familiar voice of a certain admirer rang out from above you,

“hah? ‘Course not, You are my favorite person in this old dinky town..” you gave Kairo a crooked smile, dusting off your pants to face him fully,

his eyes softened, a gentle smile marking his plump lips, sometimes you really forgot how pretty Kairo was,

“..Y-You really think so..?” Aw shit, did you say that out loud? You nodded your head either way, an embarrassed flush warming your cheeks, Kairo put his hands on his face trying to hide the blush heating up his whole face, his hand gently extended out towards you,

Kairo was about to put his hand on your head, however his hand was stopped by a silver encased one, the mechanic fingers tightening around the Ginger’s arm,

“…” a certain chrome plated male stopped Kairo’s arm from going any further,

“..Huh. And who do you think you are?” Kairo retaliated, veins sprawling across his arm and porcelain face, an unnatural look to his other wise doll like appearance,

his glasses slipped down the slope of his nose, showing a pretty little bump on his upturned nose,

his thick brows furrowed, his pretty face twisted into a menacing scowl, his lively magenta eyes losing the shine they had when they met with your (e/c) eyes,

Exo on the other hand didn’t show a sliver of emotion, the screen visor he possessed didn’t show the emoticons he tends to show, instead a pitch black screen was shown,

Expo refused to utter a single sound, which was somehow more menacing than anything, fear instilled deep inside you, slimy tendrils of uncertainty and the urge to run pooling in your intestines,

“ha..haha— How about we calm down?” You suggested as calmly as you could, which was not very good since you were about to piss your pants,

You didn’t notice your hands shaking violently, your fingers and hands being unable to keep still, you were so distracted trying to tone down the situation you forgot about keeping calm yourself,

Both of the men turned to face you, noticing your shaken up state they seemed like they were about to stop,

the duo simultaneously reached out to you, trying to touch you, they seemed to have gotten distracted from their fight, however they were far from over,

“What the fuck do you think you are doing? Can’t you see she is scared? Tsk.. what a disgrace, to think you would care about a human being.. Touch her and I won’t hesitate to pull those cables out of your fucking head.” Kairo threatened, his hand balling into a fist

“…” the bot just stared at him, unresponsive.

This was your chance to book it out of here, a crowd of people were coming your way, you took advantage of their ‘moment’ to get away,

you blended into the streets, luckily you had a few silver coins on you, so you could hang out until Exo came to find you, which he always did,

you could apologize to Kairo later and spend some well deserved time with the ginger, not today though.

shit.. Did they team up to come after you? Because.. they aren’t where they were going when you looked back..

Is it just you or.. Are two people breathing down your neck?

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This was supposed to make part of the Halloween event but it's more cutesy than scary. Ortho, my adorable son, I know he can be scary but like I can't seem to write it well lol

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic yandere, fluff, gn!reader

“Ready or not, here I come!” Ortho’s voice rang out, bright and cheerful, echoing through the vast corridors of the STYX headquarters. You ducked behind an old, heavy curtain, the type of curtain one usually overlook, your pulse quickening as you tried to make yourself as small as possible.

Idia had upgraded Ortho's infrared and heat sensors, telling him to test them. And this was where you came in; playing hide and seek with the young robot so he could test them while Idia watched over you through the cameras and, if he was amused enough, he would tell you where to hide.

The faint whirring of Ortho’s mechanical parts grew louder, signaling his approach. You held your breath, hoping he’d pass by just this once, hoping you’d manage to stay hidden a little longer and win this round. But deep down, you knew it was futile. Ortho always found you. Always.

“Yuu-senpai” His singsong voice drifted closer, now laced with a faint, metallic echo. “Where could you be? Could you be hidden behind theeee couch? Oh, no. Ok. Could you be hidden inside the closeeet? Oh, also no."

You felt a bead of sweat trail down your neck, and as you shifted ever so slightly, the fabric of the curtain rustled. The sound was barely there, but Ortho’s sensors were incredibly sharp.

You knew it was over the moment his voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh, there you are.”

Before you could react, the curtain was pulled aside, and there he stood, glowing eyes locking onto you with a triumphant gleam. “Found you!” He declared, beaming with pride. “You’re getting better, but I’m still the best, aren’t I?”

You chuckled, it was quite humiliating to lose every round to him but his smile and playful attitude were contagious. You offered a hug for yet another victory.

“You’re the best, buddy. You used to play a lot with Idia, didnt you?” Ortho chuckled softly while he rethought your question. Then he nodded.

“Idia os the best older brother one could ask for, he is very smart and funny too." Ortho was so sincere on his praise, his eyes sparkling while he talked about his brother. You resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks - uhh, the metal? - while he held your hands.

"Now, let's go. Even if all the phantoms are trapped, these corridors aren't that safe.” His eyes dimmed just a little, and he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “I’d be so sad if I lost you, you know?”

You squeezed his hand tight. “Sure, sweetie, lead the way.”

His smile returned, bright and innocent, as if all the heaviness had disappeared. "Not to worry, as long as you stay close, I’ll always be able to find you and protect you.” He tightened his grip on your hand just a fraction, leading you back to the main room.

For someone so young as he was, Ortho had a very strong sense of duty, without a doubt because of all games he played with Idia. It was kind of cute to see, yet you didn’t tell him that you were capable of dealing with those Phantoms on your own as you did months ago.

"Can we talk a break when we get to the control room?" You were not fond of continuing losing to him, even if it was adorable his little "yays", plus it's been awhile since you both started playing.

And Ortho nodded. He was just happy you were there spending time with him and his brother.

[metalmanautoltd]

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[calmcoldevening]

A little smut (////) (Slashers x reader)

Tw: well, 18+, blood play, knife play, temperature play, possibly forced to have sex

Michael Myers.

It was a difficult day. A new employee has appeared at your workplace and, as luck would have it, you had to tell everything about his duties. Jake turned out to be a nice guy, he even brought you coffee during lunch, and tried to joke in every possible way. No matter how much you complained about fatigue, the thought that now you will have a person at work with whom you can just talk in a friendly way pleased you.

Opening the front door, you quickly pulled off your shoes. Even if the heel was almost imperceptible due to a more or less low platform, your feet are really tired. Dropping your bag at the doorstep, you relaxed and walked to the laundry room, unbuttoning your shirt. I had to get clean clothes.

"Michael. I'm home," you shout, even though you know he's probably been following you since work.

Pulling off your wet shirt, you were about to unzip the skirt, when your wrists were intercepted by big hands. Looking up in surprise, you met the empty eye sockets of the mask.

"Michael? Something happened?"

The man didn't answer, just tightened his grip on your hands, pressing them against the wall. You were really scared. Heavy breathing came from under the mask.

"Mikey, what's wrong with you?"

The man lifted the edge of the mask so that his mouth and nose were visible. Leaning towards you, he bit your neck. You squealed. Pain pierced your sensitive skin. Leaving a noticeable bite, Michael began to lick it, growling animalistically.

With one palm continuing to hold your hands against the wall, he slid his fingers behind your back and unbuttoned your bra, throwing it aside. Squeezing your chest in his hand, he fell back to your neck, leaving new marks.

You let out a muffled moan. His cold hand contrasted pleasantly with his hot breath. Michael has always been rude to you, but now his actions went beyond the ordinary. You instinctively squeezed your hips, feeling the viscous warmth accumulating in the lower abdomen.

My thoughts got confused when Michael switched to your collarbones. He is well aware of your sensitive spots. The man ran his palm over your stomach, you squeaked. The skin was covered with a swarm of goosebumps.

"M-Michael, s-stop."

Lowering your head down, you noticed a bulge in Myers' jumpsuit. It surprised you a little. You had sex a couple of days ago, and with his superhuman endurance, the next time was supposed to be in a couple of weeks when he returns from his little hunt again. Did something make him angry? You didn't know. At least you won't know until he decides to talk.

Electricity seemed to radiate from his every touch. The current was flowing under your skin, making your blood boil. You began to feel a growing excitement. Tasting every inch of your skin, Michael left red marks. Bruises have already begun to form on your wrists from his brutal grip.

Running his hand lower, Michael dug his fingers into the fabric of the skirt, pulling it down. The lightning made an unpleasant crack. There was a small scratch on your thigh from a metal clasp. You whined.

Sliding his hand into your panties, Myers brought his fingers into your wet entrance. You flexed your hips, squeezing Michael's hand. Your muscles stretched painfully around his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut, chaotic stars appeared on your eyelids. You tried to squeeze out at least a few words, but only a pathetic meow came out when the man began massaging your clitoris with his thumb.

The legs turned to jelly. You let out a strained sigh when Michael's hand stopped holding your wrists and moved to your ass, squeezing your soft flesh for support. You wrapped your arms around the man's neck, digging your nails into the back of his head, trying to remove the tired mask.

"M-Michael. Mmm, p-please."

You bury your nose in the collar of your jumpsuit, trying to catch your breath. Michael, watching your futile attempts to pull off the cold latex, stops. He seems to be thinking about something for just a moment. He loosens his grip on your buttocks, and you take it as permission. Finally freeing the beloved's face from the mask, you throw it on the floor. Looking up at Michael, you catch your eyes on such familiar and dear features. Since the last time, his pale face had been covered with light stubble; brown hair fell in careless waves over his large shoulders; pink lips were compressed into a nervous thin line. While enjoying your beloved face, you meet Michael's sky-blue iris with your eyes. So bright and warm, like a summer sea breeze shining under the persistent, warming rays of the sun. For others, these eyes looked like empty pieces of ice, "the Devil's eyes."

You smile, moving your hand from the neck to Michael's face, gently running your fingers over the prickling hairs on his chin.

Myers looks at you for a couple of seconds before pressing on your sensitive clitoris again. You return to the pool of excitement and a feeling of heaviness in the lower abdomen. Just a moment, allowing you to wait out the accumulated heat, has now only doubled your growing desire.

Rolling your throbbing flesh between his fingers, Michael watched with delight how quickly the emotions on your face changed. You bite your lower lip. Unexpectedly for you, your hips themselves begin to sit on the fingers of a man, directing him to the right points of pleasure.

When you almost reach the edge, just a couple of movements to let you fully enjoy the euphoric feeling of pleasure, Michael removes his fingers. You whine in protest and try to squeeze your hips together, looking for the cherished friction.

Michael brings wet fingers to his mouth and greedily licks. You look at him from under your eyelids covered with resentment when a man pulls you in for a kiss. He crushes your lips roughly and pulls your tongue into his mouth. You feel the salty taste of your arousal mixed with the pleasant taste of his tongue.

He lowers you down and unbuttons his pants, continuing to kiss you insistently. Michael untangles his legs from his clothes and grabs you under the hips with both hands, pressing you against the wall. Your vertebrae slide unpleasantly on a hard surface, and your skin is covered with goosebumps from the cold of the painted walls.

Finally, Myers breaks the kiss, and you whine at the feel of his hot cock at your entrance. He enters only half, but it still brings you tangible discomfort and echoes of pain, despite your walls stretched by his fingers. Michael waits a couple of seconds for you to get used to it. Having coped with the sensations, you wrap your legs around his lower back, interlocking them together. Your fingers are clenching from the rush of autumn cold: it seems that Michael did not close the window, although you were not sure about it before. The man comes out a little, and then fills you with his entire length, starting to slowly hammer into your wet entrance, accelerating the pace. The room was filled with strange, unusual sounds for your tired hearing, mixed with the measured blows of the window frame against the wall.

You moaned, at first in pain, slowly turning into a pleasant pleasure. His cock touched all the sensitive points inside you. Michael smirked to himself, your reaction only increased his desire to mark you. "Mine," he whispers roughly, squeezing the soft muscles of your buttocks. You moan in time with his thrusts. Thoughts got confused, forming a strange black-and-white lump of words stuck somewhere inside your head. The only thing that filled your creation right now was the desire to feel Michael. All, without a trace.

"Mine. Mine" murmur turns into a scream, and the man roughly bites into your neck, biting the place where a bruise from his past actions has already begun to form.

"Y-Yes" you answer when a stream of electricity spreads through your body from his bite.

Michael continues to move for a few more minutes, until finally he digs into your cervix with one rough thrust. He growls, and you feel his cock filling your core with thick seed. A moment, and you are shaken by your own orgasm. As if the heavenly butterflies that had been accumulating in the lower abdomen had flown out, leaving behind seconds of pleasure, an unearthly buzz. You shudder in Michael's arms, feeling incredibly small. You like it. Michael whines low, feeling your walls shrink around his cock, helping the man recover from his orgasm.

"Mine," he whispers, gently kissing your collarbones.

Myers carefully comes out of you, lured by his sperm flowing out of your entrance, and carries you into the bedroom. Gently placing your limp body on the bed, Michael covers you with a blanket, laying down next to you and hugging you tightly to him.

"Mine Y/N."

Vincent Sinclair.

The room was hot. The fire under the container with wax pleasantly heated the air in the room, slightly burning the lungs. You never understood how Vincent could be here, being dressed in overalls and a warm sweater. Although, probably, it was just a precaution. At least you wouldn't want to get burned because of your inexperience.

The man was lying on a couch covered with a dark sheet. His blue eye was watching you curiously. Carefully removing the wax mask from his face, you put it on the table with tools.

"I like your face."

You whisper, gently tracing a massive scar with your palm. Vincent enthusiastically closes his eye, pressing his cheek harder against your soft hand. The keratinized skin scratches your fingers slightly, but this only spurs you on more. Having wound your fingers into the guy's smoldering hair, you bend down, covering his lips with your own. A slight sweet taste touches your tongue when you slide it into the guy's yielding mouth. His nimble tongue tries to compensate for his master's inexperience by playing with you. Crushing his reddened lips like plasticine heated in your hands, you gently bite them with your teeth.

With one hand you wrap Sinclair's hair around your fist, knocking a groan out of Vincent, with the other you slide over his bare chest. His curls are hot and obedient from the moisture covering them. Removing a few strands from the guy's face, you kiss his neck. Gently, gently, you run your fingers over the protruding veins, feeling the rhythm of his pounding heart. The beating fills your ears, as if giving you mute consent, and you smile contentedly, kissing Vincent on the cheek for the last time.

Descending lower, you begin to kiss his jerkily heaving chest. Tracing Sinclair's halos with your fingers, you take them into your mouth, slightly pulling and sucking. Vincent squirms under your actions. An incoherent string of sounds escapes from his throat, more like the plaintive whine of a puppy. Wrapping your fingers around his nipple, you move your free hand to his pants, pressing on the growing erection.

"So fast, baby?"

Vincent shrinks from the pet name. He always liked the melody with which these words poured out of your mouth. He's ready to listen to it forever.

The guy directs his hips up behind your hand. You gently stroke his bulge. Your cheeks are burning like hell, either because of the heat in the room, or because of your own excitement. It becomes more and more difficult to breathe, with each breath you try to take more and more burning air into your lungs.

"Wait a little, honey."

You stop and hear Vincent gasp in protest. He gets up on his elbows, but you gently guide him back. Taking a small guy's working candle from the table, you bring it to the others, already lit. After waiting for the fetish to ignite and a little wax to melt, you hold your hand over Vincent's chest. The red light playfully sways from each of your movements, mesmerizing Sinclair's attention. A slight tilt, and the pale skin of the guy is already reddening from the slowly hardening wax. From the very depths of his throat comes a mixture of hissing and a satisfied moan.

You grin as you watch Vincent's good eye roll up in pleasure. His bitten lips are compressed into a thin, sinuous line. His whole body is trembling in pleasure.

You giggle a little as you swipe at the hardened wax on your chest. Vincent's cheeks are noticeably flushed. He is ashamed that he appears before you in this form, even though he likes it. There are too many contradictions.

"My good, pretty boy."

You gently take his palm in your hand and begin to slowly kiss each finger. Every scar, every bruise, every mole. His fingers linger on your lips, tracing the pinkish skin with his nails. You perceive it as a desire for touch and bend down again to kiss him on the lips.

Pulling away from Sinclair's mouth, you blow out the candle and put it aside. Approaching the lower part of Vincent's body, you carefully take off the guy's pants and underwear, freeing his erection. The guy looks at you in a strange ecstasy, as if waiting for your approval of his body.

"Vincent is very nice."

You whisper and wrap your palm around its length. Slowly rubbing his penis, you enjoy watching Vincent's reaction. The guy throws his head back, frantically digging his hands into the edges of the couch, and sighs softly. You giggle devilishly and rub a drop of pre-ejaculate with your thumb. Seeing Vincent like that, you can't help but grin. Feeling your slow movements, the guy breathes erratically, trembling covers his body, making him moan raggedly.

Already wet, his penis slides well in your hand when you grab a third of the length with your lips. Vincent arches at the feel of the warmth of your mouth. You giggle hollowly, and he shudders even more from the vibration that has squeezed his being. You begin to slowly stick your head on his cock, sucking cheeks.

Vincent shivers and whispers your name fragmentally. You smile as you swallow his cock. Continuing to move your head, you gently touch Sinclair's trembling chin. "Look at me," you babble, and Vincent obeys. He casts a fleeting glance at you and squeals, ending up in your mouth. Vincent closes his eyes, his vision swimming with colorful fireworks of euphoria. The guy's body is cramped with a pleasant cramp and he feels a simultaneous unforgettable pleasure and a strange current subsiding deep in the bottom of his stomach. Moving away from orgasm, Vincent looks at you from under his closed eyelids. Your smiling face now, covered with his release, makes him shrink and at the same time be content with what he saw. Mixed feelings are struggling in him: shame for what he did to you; joy and relief for your affection and care; a strange feeling of satisfaction bubbling in your chest for the fact that your lips and cheeks are covered with his sperm.

"Good boy," you say, erasing the essence of your boyfriend and licking it off your fingers "You are very tasty."

You're walking lazily towards Vincent. He blushes, turning his head in the opposite direction from you, and raises himself on his elbows. "Better than candy," you add, and grabbing Sinclair's chin, you cover the guy's lips with your own.

Thomas Hewitt.

The time is approaching evening. The Texas sun is slowly moving towards the horizon, gradually mixing pure blue with acid orange. The trees swayed steadily in the surprisingly strong wind. The dilapidated barn door with a characteristic thud hits the nearby iron pitchfork and rake. Someday they will certainly fall, leaving noticeable dents on the ground.

You were sitting on the porch watching the sun go down. You've never seen the moon from here, but still you hoped to see it at least once. It's been about six months since you started living in this Texas Hewitt family house. You are used to the daily routine and the manner of communication of all the inhabitants of the estate. Hopelessness or your own desire to stay, you didn't know. The only thing you were sure of was your love for the Texas Killer, little Thomas.

You lazily climb the wooden steps and enter the house, closing the door behind you. Dinner was over a long time ago, the dishes were washed and put away, so now you had nothing to do. You decided to visit Thomas in the basement, who was probably engaged in the last of the morning violators.

Going down the stairs, you jump over a large puddle at the foot of the steps by inertia. The basement smelled of dampness and death slowly filling your shrinking lungs. You notice Thomas hunched over a table with a sewing machine. You can't help but smile sweetly.

Approaching the man from behind, you put your hand in his wet curly hair. That's the gesture you always use to tell Hewitt that it's you and no one else. He visibly relaxes, and his previously tense shoulders go limp. You turn Thomas to face you and see his new mask. Still a fresh human mask.

"Hi, Tommy. Did you miss me?"

The man nods. You're giggling. Running your fingers over the skin, you look at the remaining blood on them, which you immediately rub between them, making a sound like a disgusted groan.

" I'll get a rag."

You leave and return to the basement with a clean white cloth. You begin to slowly drive a napkin over someone else's skin. Thomas is watching you closely. You blush slightly under the attentive gaze of metal eyes. Thomas touches your face with his bloody hand, and you smile.

"Can I take off your mask, Tommy? I need to clean your face."

He seems to hesitate for a moment. After all, you will see his real face, his "progressive ugliness". But he looks into your eyes, so dear and beloved, and does not find that lie and disgust in them, nods. You gently pull off the elastic skin and put it on the table, next to other skin patches. Again, you take a rag and already run it over Tommy's scars. You stop at his lips.

"Can I kiss you, Tommy?"

He always appreciated that you respected his personal space and always asked before touching him in such exceptional places.

Thomas nods. You grab his shoulders with your hands, guiding the man's body, and cover his lips with your own. The taste of copper soaked your profusely saliva, but you did not resist, only deepening the kiss.

Looking away from such desirable lips, you notice a strange twinkle in his curious eyes. Hewitt kisses you again, albeit clumsily, but insistently, and stands up to his full height. You are once again convinced of its large size in absolutely everything. His lips curl in an insidious grin, and a second later his hands pick you up like a feather, carefully pressing you to him. You cling to the man's bloody shirt with your palm. Thomas is carrying you out of the basement. You already knew what to expect, mentally imagining the further development of events.

Hewitt brings you into his, your shared room, closes the door with a latch, which Hoyt kindly made so that during Thomas' absence old Monty could not spy on you, and puts you on the bed.

Thomas stops not far from you and takes off his mostly blood-stained clothes, remaining in only his pants. Then he walks towards you. The springs creak with a nasty creak under the weight of Tommy's body. He carefully removes your big shirt, which you secretly took from his things, and shorts, leaving you in your underwear. Thomas looks at you, looking for the slightest drop of protest in his eyes, but, fortunately, he does not find it. A man gently runs his rough hands over your chest, stomach and thighs, pulling short moans out of you. Pleased with himself, he hooks the edge of your panties and slowly pulls them down. You clench your legs in embarrassment. Thomas settles at your hips, picking them up and laying them on his broad shoulders. You can see how his chest is heaving unevenly.

If earlier it was just hot in the room, now you felt the fire burning and enveloping you both. Your heart beat in anticipation. Thomas briefly admires you and squeezes the outside of your thighs. He looks at the bottom of your stomach and kisses the heated skin. A groan escapes from your chest. Thomas likes the sounds you make, so he leaves more long and sensual kisses on the outside of your thighs, stomach and sides.

Noticing your humidity and how you began to actively fidget in search of liberation, he smiles, after a moment touching your entrance with his face. Hewitt inserts his tongue into your sensitive walls several times, watching your reaction. Continuing his actions, he runs his tongue along your entire slit from top to bottom and back, noticing that your emotions become brighter when he touches the top of your penis. The man touches that place again, watching you enthusiastically bring your eyebrows to the bridge of your nose and bite your lip. Thomas feels a throbbing bulge under his tongue. Having found the reason for your pleasure, he begins to actively lick and suck your clitoris. You squeeze your legs around his head. Thomas, pleased with his actions, begins to work harder with his tongue, accelerating the pace. A few movements, and your body cramps pleasantly. One moment you seem to find yourself in the arms of clouds, soft, fluffy and so inviting, and the next second you hit the ground with force, still in a strange euphoric state. An orgasm will cover you instantly from head to toe, you feel your toes curl up, and your hips begin to frantically lose themselves on Thomas's tongue and face in the hope of waiting out a wonderful feeling.

Thomas straightens up and looks at the mess he's made of you with his tongue alone. Your tear-stained eyes; trembling lips; reddening cheeks, not so much from embarrassment as from the blood that covered them.

You look at Hewitt and smile. his face, shining from your release, shimmers with red-orange fire from the window of your room, his wet hair is wound behind his ears and covered with already dried blood, silver eyes are carefully studying you.

"Thanks. Tommy," you say through heavy breaths.

Thomas gently takes your hand and begins to slowly draw letters on it so that you have time to understand his message.

"Y/N. P.R.E.T.T.Y."

"W.I.T.H. B.L.O.O.D. O.N. H.E.R. F.A.C.E."

Well, ha, I'm horny before the New Year and decided to write this~ And so, happy holidays, sweethearts ;)

[moodymisty]

lowkey been thinking about the concept of Aqulian Shields with a charge that is deeply insecure about the protections given to them: a lowly imperial citizen. how are *they* meant to be important enough to warrant it? they have complete faith in the emperor, of course, but cannot fathom their own importance, do not understand that this is a galaxy where *they* are important.

(i.e. i need a very large man to praise me or i’ll die)

Ok i know requests are closed but like, this has been eating at my brain for days sorry for making you wait. Forgive this being very rough.

Relationships: Valerius Caledon(Aqulian shield oc)/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a lowly sort of seamstress/seamster? for a lord and doesn't understand their value, Low self esteem, Awkward pep talk from a custode

The fabric bolts on the table are scattered about uselessly, some unrolled from their bolts as you prepare to cut.

Getting them had been, an adventure.

You haven't gone that deep into public since Valerius started 'protecting' you. To be nothing one day and then to suddenly have a man covered in gold, one of the Emperor's finest watching your every move, it's overwhelming.

The man you'd gone to in order to buy the fabric you needed had simply let you have them for free, pushing them towards you. You may not have seen his face, but you knew that Valerius behind you had been watching the man's hands intently, when he got close. You're sure he only gave you it all without payment to get you and you Aqulian Shield far away from there.

You wonder how your lord will react when he get news of this upon his return. He'll surely be furious, that one of his random workers was bestowed one of the Emperor's greatest protectors and not himself.

You hold your cold metal scissors in your hands, and nearly get lost in the pattern of the fabric.

"Something is bothering you."

Valerius' voice is stoic and deep, no matter where you are in the room it sounds like he's nearly in your ear. You sigh.

"I just, I don't get it." You hear the thumping sound of him rounding you, until he stands at your front. He blocks a good portion of the window, and looks down on you with the same heavy, thinking expression you're already used to from him.

"Why me? I just, I don't get why you consider me worth protecting," You continue. "I only sew clothes for my lord and his lady, what is there about me that will help the Imperium?"

Valerius comes closer, leaning his spear against the wall for a moment; It is still within reach, just in case. Given you're sitting and his massive height he's forced to kneel in order to come close to eye level with you, but even then you have to look up slightly.

"When that day comes we will find out. Perhaps it might be months or years, but you will accomplish something of great importance. No matter your station." He hesitates for a moment before putting his hand on your knee, the massive gauntlet covering much of your leg.

"I will protect you with all I have until you reach that day, and then my duty is done." You smile and softly laugh.

"I'll miss you when you leave. I've been enjoying your company."

Valerius surprises you, as for the first time since he charged into your life, he gives a small smile.

"None of my charges have ever said that before."

That surprises you; He's amicable company, all things considered. Such as being unable to be rid of him. He's even offered his advice at times, though he's largely quiet. You've learned in those rare moments that his favorite color is clearly red.

"Well, I'm glad to be the first."

Valerius continues to smile, before removing his hand from your leg and rising back to his feet. You let out a breath of air and reach for your fabrics, deciding to get back to work while you feel his presence not far away.

[whumped-by-glitter]

A Quick View of Tallis' Banding System

⚠️CW: Institutionalized Slavery

Just a bit of lore dump since I've gotten a few questions about it.

Here are 3 different classes of slave bands. These are differentiated by different metals. They indicate what the slave is trained for is also (usually) an indication of their master's social class. Slaves are also sometimes referred to “[type] band”.

Gold bands:

the highest “rank” of slave. They are owned by the royal family. They are split into 2 categories- Palace and Personal slaves. Both categories can be used for entertainment, though it’s more common for personal slaves.

Personal slaves are owned by a specific member of the royal family and tend to their every need. They also perform bodyguard duties if necessary. They are distinguished by a jewel embedded on the bale of the O ring on their collar. Their uniform includes a corset vest with solid boning in the back and front. This restricts their movements and provides an extra layer of safety to the royal they serve. It is essentially a cage hidden behind fancy fabric. Personal slaves, sometimes called gem slaves, do have a small amount of authority over other slaves. They are usually the most highly trained/ specifically skilled.

The palace slaves do not have a specific master and instead answer to a servant overseer. They help in the kitchens as well as laundry, housekeeping, and working the stables, among many other important jobs, such as repairs and groundskeeping. They keep the palace functional and running smoothly.

Silver bands:

They are slaves owned by nobles. Silver bands are used for housekeeping, childcare, food service, and protection. However, usually they are just used for entertainment. They are often the least educated of the 3 classes and the most mistreated. The nobles usually see them as disposable and easily replaced.

Brass bands:

The final class of slaves are the brass bands, sometimes called drudge slaves. Owned by commoners, they are the heartbeat of Tallis. Without them the kingdom’s economy would collapse. Ironically, they are generally treated the best out of the three classes. They are usually given days off, and often have their own living quarters. Sometimes entire villages must pool their resources to buy them, so they are rarely mistreated since they can’t be easily replaced. Their masters often get to know them and care about them. They are usually educated in the most basic reading, writing, and math, if at all.

Potential jobs include (but not limited to)-

Miller

Farm hand

Running the shop when their master is away.

Childcare

Laundry

Stable keep

Construction

And many other jobs requiring heavy lifting or are tedious or time consuming.

@whumpsandbumps, @whumperofworlds, @skittles-the-whumpee, @3-2-whump, @wounds-seen-and-unseen

@generic-whumperz, @emptycalories-splitlip, @pigeonwhumps, @i-eat-worlds, @starfields08000

@onlywhump, @snakebites-and-ink, @aloafofbreadwithanxiety, @turvuren, @whumps-and-bumps

@paingoes, @spectral-whumpy-writer, @vampiresprite, @whumping-in-the-dark

I am also creating an 18+ blog to include spicier scenes and content. It'll be the same story, just with add parts. please let me know if you want to be added to that taglist instead or as well.

[channieskies]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕: 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Historical|Au, Fantasy|Au, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty|Au, Angst, Smut (Eventual), NSFW tags are under the cut.

Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel?

Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

Word Count: 2329 [Reading Time: 10 Mins]

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Looking for another chapter? Click here: 🇸‌🇹‌🇴‌🇷‌🇾‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌

Warning: This chapter contains, blood, and violence, minor character death, mentions of death. Reader discretion is advised.

Minho couldn’t seem to put his finger on it, but something about that encounter with the body in the road just didn’t sit right with him. Bandits were never ones to just sit by idly and let an opportunity pass them by and what could have been a bigger opportunity than a fancy carriage that was clearly owned by high born citizens? You sat stiffly at his side, fists balled and tugging at the fabric of your trousers. Minho wasn’t alone in his feelings, you’d felt like you were being watched for miles now; being followed. Training for encounters such as this and actually going through with your training were two totally separate things. Minho got your attention and motioned for you to keep a lookout at your surroundings. Your eyes had been combing through the woods as if your life depended on it, because it very well might, especially if your gut feeling was right. 

The ride was tense as you entered under the canopy of trees that lined the entrance to this side of the forest. You felt even more uneasy as your carriage moved deeper into the darkness of it. Though the trees were leaf and fruitless, it didn’t stop their branches from intertwining with one another as if holding hands. This place was devoid of life, no birds chirped, no wind brushed through the trees. No light seemed to shine here either, the thick crowns of the barren tree stands blocked out almost every speck that tried to poke through its undergrowth. You grabbed the hilt of your sword, keeping it sheathed, but ready just in case. The metal felt heavy in your hands, almost too heavy for you to wield. 

You’d been tasked with the burden of carrying your family on your shoulders, even though you were a woman. Societal norms would have dictated that you stay home and take care of your family; be the high born caregiver you were bred to be. At your age, you should have been looking for a husband, if not married already. But you’d taken on the role that your brother was no longer able to fill as the family's protector and the high sense of moral duty that came with it.  Meaning, you’d have to put on your big girl pants and step up to the plate if you wanted your family to survive this.

You knew the consequences of failure. You knew that if the King was to become aware that  anyone was moving the prince from the frozen Isle of Arcta, that there might very well be retribution. You knew that the king had killed countless of his subjects that he thought were trying to usurp the throne, even the ones who were proven not to be guilty of such. King Seojoon’s mind had turned to madness ever since the death of his first wife; she was the only one able to quell his blood thirsty compulsions . 

Not that his second wife had the will to even try. She thought she was set for life after bringing his daughters into the world. All she needed to do to make sure her life was secure, was to have a boy. But she’d failed to produce. Now more than ever, the kingdom needed its prince to be by his father's side. But bringing the prince from where he had been exiled was a risky move; but with the condition the King was in at the moment, there was no other choice. The kingdom would fall and every eye for the throne would take the opportunity to sit on it. 

Your father had been in correspondence with the woman who had been caring for the prince this past eleven years, Venia.  He knew of the young man like he had been there first hand to watch him grow up. You’d been there to listen to every one of her letters, so in a way, it was like you knew him too. You’d met him once, a very long time ago. You were too young to remember much, but something that stayed with you was the sad look of longing in his eyes. How he gazed from his throne to the children who laughed and played at this event. How, even if he didn’t say it, he wished to be carefree like them. 

Even in recent years with his paintings that your family had received as gifts, you could still feel that sense of longing. You hoped that his longing for a sense of normalcy meant that he would fight for the common people and their right to leading a normal life. One free of tyranny and oppression like most of them were suffering under his father's rule. That's what the vast Kingdom of Volantis needed; a figure of hope and a chance for prosperity.

The forest gave off an eerie feeling. It almost felt like it had popped off the pages of a dark fairytale, one that you and Minho were now the unwilling protagonists of. Every hair on your body stood on edge as you traversed through the gloomy woodland. A twig snapped in the distance, forcing you to jerk your head in its direction. Your heart started to quicken in its pace as the fear started to creep onto your body like the winding vines that hugged the trees. You could make out what looked like a figure in the distance, but you surely didn’t want to stay in the woods and find out if your eyes were deceiving you or not. You kept your eyes in the direction of the sound as you reached to touch Minho. “Quickly. I think I see something.”

The horses moved from a casual trot to that of a gallop. You unsheathed your sword, drawing the blade. Chills went up your spine as multiple sources of maniacal laughter echoed through the forest. Your grip on the hilt tightened as you readied yourself for whatever was coming. The hit was sudden to the left side of your coach, so hard it almost tipped the carriage. That's when you saw it, the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You hoped it was a man, but with how it looked, you were afraid it was one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Dressed in all black, the wispy ends of its tattered clothing floated around it like smoke. His horse was as black as night with a long, loose mane. A beautiful Friesian horse. Normally, you would take the time to admire such a beautiful steed, but the horse was almost as terrifying as its master as it plowed its way towards you with determination.

The face of the hoydenish figure is what terrified you the most. It was skin that covered its face, but it wasn’t its own. It looked like it had been peeled off other people and sewn together to fit whomever or whatever was underneath it. Your body shook with trepidation. Fear taking over and activating your fight or flight. Everything in you, telling you to run and don’t look back. It lunged at you, its horse keeping pace with the pair of yours. You dodged, bumping into Minho, alerting him to what was taking place on your side of the drivers box, even though he was dealing with his own problems on the right. Fear was something he normally didn’t feel since he vowed to never be helpless again, but this unforeseen situation and the proximity of the creature filled him with dread. Not to mention the manned carriage that gave chase that he caught a glimpse of in his peripheral.

He pushed forward, making the horses speed up even more. Once again the creature lunged at you, narrowly missing your throat as the pace of your carriage out maneuvered his lone horse. It’s long talon like nails grabbed at your arm, shredding a small section as its fingers dug into your skin and jaggedly tugged down, successfully pulling half your body out of the box and injuring your arm greatly. You pushed and it pulled, throwing the both of you off balance. You fell forward, your face now dangerously close to the speeding spoke. Minho grabbed the back of your trousers, pulling you back before you met your end at the wheels of your own carriage. You’d unwittingly giving the pursuer time to catch up, his horse now moving toe to toe with your own. He reached for the box. Dirt and blood were caked all over his hands as he gripped the seat irons.

Your fight instincts took over, forcing you to swing your sword at it. It didn’t dodge, nor did it make a sound as your blade sliced into its arm. It moved forward, unphased by your attack. You came face to face with the terrifying creature as it pulled itself up, planting a foot on the futchell of your coach. Determined to not let your fear control you, you fought, but the thing stayed unphased, as if your blows felt like the wind against a mountain. It took each blow as if you weren't causing it any harm at all. It grabbed you, once again trying it’s best to drag you from the box by your neck. You struggled, your free hand clawing at its forearm for your life. It lifted you high, your feet dangled, the tips of your shoes were barely touching the footboard. Your dominant hand gripped your blade and swung wildly at the beast of a man. The flourishes of your sword were erratic, like you were trying to chop wood without knowing how.

With one swift movement of your sword, you swung at its neck. The feeling of the blade slicing through its skin made you sick to your stomach. It stopped a little ways in, your blade stuck. Its grip tightened around your neck, nails digging into your flesh once again. You shrieked, the pain felt as if your neck was burning, like his fingers were on fire as they dug into your skin. You needed to get away, you couldn’t breathe and this was the most pain you’d ever been in. With another wild swing at its neck, it landed in the same spot with scary accuracy. It pushed in even further this time, your blade even closer to its spinal cord. You moved to do it again, yanking your sword out of the abrasion.

You felt the warmth of its blood as it spewed from its wound.  It ceased all movements, mumbled words were the only things you’d heard from it that made you believe it was remotely human. “Death.. To.. Volantians…” Its fingers finally loosened enough for you to stumble back into your coach. Its limp body fell from your carriage, just to be trampled by its own horse. You fell back into your seat, your sword clanking to the floor as it plummeted from your hand. The darkness of the forest was starting to lift, the end of the gloomy path was finally coming to an end. But you now had to live with the darkness of having taken someone's life, just to save your own. Just one more thing adding to the burden of carrying your family on your shoulders.

But you knew that this was only the beginning of your fight. You still had pursuers hot on your trail. The carriage that followed didn’t waste a second on its fallen comrade, choosing instead to speed up, catching up to your coach in no time. “Oh, come on!” You were drained, blood was trickling down your arm and neck and you had bruises everywhere. Minho could sense that you were tired, he also knew you were injured, that spot on your neck was still bleeding. He handed you the reins. “You sure?” Though he hadn’t seen this battle, due to the beast being on your side of the drivers box, you still wanted him to be sure before engaging with the rest of the scoundrels that attacked your carriage.

He nodded. His determined eyes said, “I got this, trust me.” He jumped from the drivers box into their carriage, surprising you. He hated exerting too much extra effort unless it was necessary. You guessed it was necessary. Two men climbed from the back to fight, but Minho was more than capable of handling himself. He'd trained alongside you and your sister growing up and with him being only a few years older than you, that made him the perfect sparring partner, even if most of the time he took it easy on you. A sharp pain went through your arm, the puncture wound felt as if it was throbbing. You reached to touch it and it was hot to the touch. But you didn't have time to dwell on that with the emanate danger you were in. 

Minho made quick work of the thugs in the carriage and jumped back into your coach with a handful of tattered womens clothes. Your eyes widened, they looked familiar. But why? Then it dawned on you, “The person from the road? So they were bandits? I didn’t see a tattoo on the guy I fought. Did yours have any?” He nodded, tossing the clothes out. They quickly caught in the wind and flew in the same direction as the bandits coach as it crashed into a formation of rocks near the river bank. Bandits usually had tattoos to signify which group or town they were from. The ones that killed Minho’s mother were a part of Balarabe the Viper’s crew. They could be found closer to Solaris, the kingdom's main castle town. That was where you would be taking the prince. You still had a few more weeks of travel until your journey would be complete, so you knew this probably wouldn't be the last time you'd run into trouble. And more than likely that trouble would be The Viper.

A.N: Please reblog or leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

[Rewrites, Reposts, and Translations are Prohibited]

[violentkisses999]

only you can convince octavia to have mercy on her opposers.

all night, your lover laid awake, her arms around you securely. no matter when or where, she had always felt the need to protect you.

no barriers of fabrics covered your bodies. octavia's bare chest pressed against your back. her biceps still as tense as they were when she joined you in bed. her thumb kneaded at the pudge of your belly.

you were so soft and sheltered. she couldn't remember the last time she had seen your skin deeply wounded, and she liked it that way. may whatever supreme being above have mercy on the fool who blew at the flame that kept her going, because she wouldn't.

she decided that you weren't fit for war. you thrived the most in front of a computer. you did more for your people when your fingers were racing across keys at the speed of light. on the ark, computer coding was just a class you were good at. it also happened to be the skill that came most in handy on the ground.

octavia didn't know how you did it. you were a hero to so many people that would never even know your name. watching you save more lives than she could take with the click of a few buttons was always so satisfying.

she mindlessly nudged at the nape of your neck with the tip of her nose. your fresh scent fogged her senses in a way that she easily submitted to. she could stay lost in your presence all night, but alas, duty called.

a mission in polis: another ambassador of king roan sticking their nose where it shouldn't be. soon, they won't have any business of their own to mind.

kane suggested that it wasn't in her best interest to go through with it. he told her that the killings would be for nothing once roan knows the truth.

she knew this, but she was burdened with one purpose: to protect. whether it be a grounder or an arkadian, no more of her friends would die. if that meant killing anyone that threatened roan, she's willing to live with their deaths.

with that in mind, she left you lying in bed with a gentle kiss along your hairline. she was careful to not dip the bed as she lifted herself. her sharp eyes tracked the slow rise and fall of your waist to be sure you hadn't awoken.

the pale moonlight was all that assisted her search for her belongings. sneakily, she maneuvered herself into her armor. she was struggling to find her boots. she throws them in the same place every night, how could they just-

"there better be a warm bed for you in polis." octavia's search was cut short by your fried voice. she could've sworn she felt something thud in her neck as she twisted to look at you. you were still in the same position. your back to her. however, the quickened rise and fall of your waist didn't slip past her.

she quickly gathered herself to respond. she was so startled, she asked, "what are you sayi-"

you didn't even let her finish her question before continuing, "if you leave me here tonight, i'm not letting you back in."

to anyone else, you just sounded pissed off and stern. but octavia wasn't just 'anyone else'. she could hear the well hidden sobs and the slight stuffiness in your voice.

you were... crying. her eyes softened and all of a sudden, she wasn't so determined to leave.

the sound of metal clanking with metal could be heard as her jacket fell to the floor. her now free hands flew to encase the hill of your hips, her knee pressing a dip into the mattress as she sat beside you. as if you'd break under pressure, she carefully turned you to lay on your back.

once she saw your face practically soaked in tears, her heart shattered into a million pieces. she ran calloused thumbs over your moonlit tears.

"my baby," she whispered as she lowered her forehead to rest on yours.

your shaking hands clutched the leather of her armor, you drug them over her arms. it seemed as if the sight of her fully clothed was enough to break your resolve, because you broke into heavy sobs right then. your shoulders shook as you whimpered, "please, don't leave."

you were begging her to listen to kane. even though you didn't see eye to eye with the man most of the time, this was one thing that the two of you agreed upon.

listening to you bawling seemed to cease the war in her mind. she swiftly pressed her lips against yours, swallowing your cries. as she pulled away, her nose nudging yours, she eased her palms over the crown of your head, pulling your hair out of your face.

"i'm not going anywhere." her cracked lips welded with yours once again. the sigh you released tickled her face beautifully.

and just like that, she remembered why you were her first priority. how could she forget?

"ai hod yu in."

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